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• 00 - Preface

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  PREFACE TO A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA THE SPANISH PERIOD BY CHARLES EDWARD CHAPMAN A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA THE SPANISH PERIOD BY CHARLES EDWARD CHAPMAN

  PREFACE This is the third volume of the writer, which is the direct result of his enjoyment during two years of a Native Sons of the Golden West traveling fellowship, which enabled him to make researches in Spain. The writer's first thought, therefore, in publishing this volume, is to express his gratitude to the patriotic Californian order which has made it possible.

  The other two works by the writer on the history of California were directed primarily to the history profession. One, The Founding of Spanish California, was an intensively documented monograph, and the other, Catalogue of Materials in the Arquivo General de Indias, is a technical manuscript guide. These two he is endeavoring in the present work to bring to their logical conclusion, the ultimate aim indeed of all historical scholarship, by publishing what he hopes may

  be accepted as an authoritative popular history. Since it is intended for the general public, this volume omits much of the professional paraphernalia and does not hesitate to give space to interesting incident. As to its authoritativeness, it is at any rate the product of 13 years' investigation of Spanish Californian history involving the use of thousands of hitherto unknown manuscripts, as well as important printed materials not previously

  digested or assimilated. Two outstanding reasons exist for the publication of this volume. In the first place, it presents a vast amount of new material, some portions of which have never before appeared in print, while others were not known or not utilized by the general historians of the state. Secondly, an attempt is made to place the history of California in its proper perspective in relation to that of North America as a whole. Previous works have given a purely

  local narrative. This volume aims to show that California history is important as well as interesting. That the Great Anza Expedition of 1775 to 1776 and the Yuma Massacre of 1781 demand inclusion in any comprehensive history of the United States. That California, while it indeed has a romantic history to tell, has also a great deal more than that to contribute to the cherished traditions of the American people. The writer first planned this volume

  seven years ago in conjunction with Dr. Robert G. Cleland, whose point of view with respect to the American period of California history is precisely analogous to that expressed above about the era of Spanish rule. Since 1914, Dr. Cleland and the writer have been in constant communication, but otherwise working independently, with a view to producing between them an authoritative popular history of California. Where the two works overlap in the first half

  of the 19th century, certain portions have been left for detailed treatment by Dr. Cleland while others are taken up here. This it is possible to do without a rough break in the narrative, since the aim here for that period is merely to finish the local annals of Spanish California carried through to the end of the Mexican rule. Dr. Cleland, on the other hand, tells the story of those events which pushed irresistibly toward the ultimate acquisition

  of California by the United States. Dr. Cleland's volume is about to go to press, as this work comes from the publisher. Bancroft's works in the writer's own monograph, The Founding of Spanish California, have been drawn upon freely, and in less degree so also the great general histories of Hitler and Eldridge. Since these or some of them have been used in most of the chapters, it has seemed unnecessary to cite them. Other strikingly important items are

  mentioned at the end of each chapter. The following chapters have previously been published in substantially the same form, 1, 5, 6, 7, and 9 in the Grizzly Bear magazine, 4 and 8 in Sunset, 10, 11 and the appendix in the Southwestern Historical Quarterly, and 14 and 24 in the Catholic Historical Review. Due thanks are given here for permission to use them in the present work. Some explanation may be made of methods adopted in

  the mechanical construction of the volume. Frequent excerpts are inserted from the narratives of eyewitnesses, as well as occasional well-formulated statements from later writings. Two maps have been prepared to cover place names in the text. The Spanish family names are employed according to the name of the father, and spelled, when possible, as the individuals themselves spell them. In this connection it may be pointed out that in Spanish nomenclature,

  the mother's family name is often retained and written after the father's. Thus, in the case of Rodriguez Cabrillo, Rodriguez is the father's family name, and Cabrillo is the mother's. Furthermore, there are more than a score of names, Rodriguez, Garcia, Lopez, etc., which are of about as frequent usage in Spanish as Smith is in English. On this account, many Spaniards use their two family names,

  or, occasionally, that of the mother alone, if it is of the uncommon variety, to distinguish themselves from the many others of their kind. Buccarelli has been adopted in spelling the name of the great viceroy who figures so prominently in this volume. To be sure, as he wrote it, it was Buccarelli, wherefore that form was employed by the writer in a previous work. It is true, however, that I and Y were almost interchangeable

  18th-century Spanish, and that the name was invariably spelled Buccarelli in contemporary printed documents, including those emanating from the viceroy himself. Since, also, the word has been given that form in various Mexican monuments, it has seemed best to interpret the final letter as an I. This, indeed, accords with the present Spanish usage in writing this name. Accents are used in proper names according to modern Spanish practice, except in the case of

  certain place names that appear very frequently in English, thus Santa Barbara, Sonora, with the accent and Santa Barbara, California, without. There are possibly some inconsistencies in applying the rule, thus Santa Ines and Purisima Concepcion retain their accents while they are dropped in all other California place names, and Panama and Peru are accented while Mexico is not. New Spain appears in translation, but other regions below the Rio Grande retain their Spanish form.

  A notable instance of this is Baja California, frequently called Lower California in the United States. The correct Spanish name is employed, the better to distinguish it from Alta California, the region now embraced by the state of California. To many persons other than those already referred to, the writer is deeply indebted, notably to his fellow haunters of the Bancroft Library, Professor Herbert E. Bolton and Professor Herbert I. Priestley, each of whom indeed has provided much

  of the new material set forth in this book, and to Dr. Robert G. Cleland, author of The Companion History. Not least deserving of thanks are the writer's pupils of the past seven years. All unconsciously, perhaps, they have stimulated him by their interest, or lack of it, to transform lectures into what he now ventures to set forth in a printed volume. Charles E. Chapman, Berkeley, California, November 4, 1921.

  End of preface.

• 01 - The Effect of Geography upon California History

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  CHAPTER I. THE EFFECTS OF GEOGRAPHY UPON CALIFORNIA HISTORY The land, California, was not always as it is today. Numerous evidences, such as seashells found on mountains, make it clear that, many thousands of years ago, it was under water. It seems to have been a tropical land. Remains of gigantic, prehistoric animals, which could only have lived in such a clime, have recently been found in the celebrated Lake of Tar at the

  Hancock or La Brea Ranch, near Los Angeles. Doubtless, too, the land had a very different shape from what it now has. And indeed, many writers have held that San Francisco Bay is of comparatively recent formation. Their argument is based on the fact that no white man seems to have seen the bay prior to its discovery by the Portela expedition of 1769, although the rest of the coast had been fairly well known for over 200 years. In particular, the English

  navigator Francis Drake had made a stop of about a month a few miles north of where the bay now is most assuredly located, and appears not to have learned of its existence, even though he made a journey inland. Since nobody saw the bay, and since it was such a remarkable bay that it was at least an odd chance that it alone should have remained undiscovered, and since, above all, California is known to have suffered earthquakes in the past, why therefore, say these writers,

  the bay did not exist, but was produced by an earthquake at some time between 1759 and 1769. It may be remarked that this theory has been advanced most prominently since the California earthquake of 1906. Furthermore, it is easy to account for the failure of navigators to see the bay. The winding character of that body of water, and the position of Angel Island in the direct line of the Golden Gate or entrance to the bay, make it difficult of recognition from the sea,

  to say nothing of the fogs which so frequently hide that coast from view. Finally, there is no necessary reason why Drake's journey inland, the length of which is not indicated in his account, should have taken him to a place where he could have seen the bay if it existed. Present-day automobilists will not fail to remember that there are some not inconsiderable hills between Drake's landing place in San Francisco and, besides, vast areas of forest.

  But if the Great Western Port owes its existence to an earthquake, what an extraordinary cataclysm it must have been. How tiny a tremble, in comparison, was that other event of 1906. And what a beneficent stroke of nature for California and the Pacific Coast. Footnote. Whether or not the Bay of San Francisco was produced by an earthquake, there was at least a tradition among the Indians to the effect that the bay did not

  formerly exist. In describing a trip that he made north of the bay in 1819, Father President Mariano Pallares said that the body of water was, in ancient times, according to the tradition of the old men, an oak forest with no other water than that of a river which was passed on foot. In proof of this tradition, they say that there are still found trunks and roots of oaks in the port and in the strait. In footnote. All of these matters are of

  little, if any, concern, however, as affecting the history of California. And so, too, the possibility, sometimes referred to, that a new continent may be expected to rise up in the Pacific, making the Golden State an inland country many thousands of years hence. For the purposes of history, the geography of California may be considered in the light of what it now is. Numerous mountain chains course through the state, running generally north and south and

  separated from one another by narrow valleys, except for the one long and broad valley which is the most striking characteristic of central California. The coasts are rough and high, offering few good ports, and indeed only one first rank, natural port. Communications by land with the outside world were difficult, for where unusually high mountain ranges did not intervene, there occurred the vast desert spaces in the south. Thus, California, with its best port hidden,

  remained for centuries in a state of isolation from the rest of the world. Even after the white man came, there was little in California in its natural state upon which he could live. The fruits for which the state is now so famous did not exist formerly, and there were no fields of grain or herds of domestic animals. The land was inhabited by Indians, but of so wretched a type that they were unable to produce anything suited to the needs of white men, or even to serve

  acceptably as laborers. Manufactured articles of the kind that white men used were, of course, entirely lacking. Little wonder, then, that Gaspar de Portola, commander of the Spanish expedition of 1769, should say that if the Russians wanted California, he would let them have it. In his mind, such a gift seemed a meat punishment for the sins of their aggressive imperialism. Economically backward as California undoubtedly was, it is hardly necessary to say that she had

  abundant natural resources, such as fertile soil, rich grasslands, and belts of timber, plentiful water from the mountain snows, a variety of metals including, most important of all from the standpoint of history, an extraordinary wealth in gold. And not least of all, California had an exceptionally agreeable climate. If the white man could contrive to get there, found permanent settlements, and establish communications with the outside world, the future would take care of itself.

  Granted California's economic potentialities, the most important geographical fact bearing upon her history was the location of the land with respect to the rest of the world. If California could have been placed in western or central Europe, it would undoubtedly have been one of the most populous lands of the earth. But California was, in fact, very far from the centers of white civilization, indeed almost the farthest distant point of the earth, when we consider the

  routes which necessarily had to be followed before men could reach the Pacific shores of North America. Furthermore, there were difficulties in getting there and staying, besides which the much better known hardships of the pilgrims of Plymouth Rock pale into insignificance. To reach California from Europe, a sea voyage was necessary. Although it might be broken by a journey on land, the shortest route by sea, whether along the coast of Asia or of North America, was by way of the North Pole,

  but this way was impracticable, in fact. A long voyage around South America, or a much longer voyage around Africa and beyond Asia, might take one directly by sea from Europe to California. Land routes necessitated the journey across North America or Asia. The difficulties of the sea routes to California, even for such comparatively short stretches as the voyage from western New Spain or Mexico, were due primarily to the length of the voyage. Down to the close

  of the 18th century, ships were small and frail. Boats of 500 tons were considered large, while transoceanic voyages were not infrequently made by ships of 50. Compared with such monsters as the 27,000 ton steamers on which travelers of recent years have crossed the Pacific, it would be seen at once that the vessels of the past had their limitations, accentuated, too, by a lack of the advanced notions about shipbuilding

  which obtain in the world today. Nautical science had not yet gone far along other lines, either. Men did not know how to calculate longitude except by a system called dead reckoning, which reduced itself to guessing, and instruments were so imperfect that the latitudes found were rarely correct. The calculations for the California coast were usually over a hundred miles too high. Furthermore, the Pacific Ocean was not well known. Few charts existed, and none were accurate.

  Rocks, shoals, currents, coasts, and winds too frequently appeared where least expected, with the result that shipwreck was one of the ordinary perils of a voyage. Only a sailor can appreciate the terror of uncharted seas. To this was added the terrific storms of the ill-named Pacific. Pacific, indeed, it often is in the far south where Magellan entered it,

  but assuredly he would have given another name, perhaps the exact opposite. Could he have experienced the gales of the north? In the words of the Italian traveller Germeli Carreri, who made the voyage from Manila to Alcapulco in 1697 to 1698, the Spaniards and other geographers have given this the name of the Pacific Sea, but it does not suit with its tempestuous and dreadful notion, for which it ought rather to be

  called the Restless. Particularly, it was difficult for vessels beating up the coast, since they had to buffet against the ocean current as well as encounter the winds. Those who at the present time had made the voyage between San Francisco and Los Angeles appreciate the difference between going down and coming up. Other and yet more terrible factors combined to make the voyage to such a

  distant land as California little better than a sentence of death. Possibly worst of all was the dread disease of the scurvy. This disease, resulting from a lack of fresh fruits and vegetables, baffled medical science down to the close of the 18th century. Other ills there were in greater proportion than now, but the deaths from scurvy alone in a voyage from Europe into the Pacific might range from 40 to 75 percent. Casualties were not infrequently

  quite as great for the short voyage from New Spain to California. It is no wonder that men were sometimes driven on board ship at the point of a bayonet and compelled to go there. To be sure, there were usually many others who were willing to go because of the enormous wealth which, in some mysterious way, they hoped to acquire. Once arrived in California, the troubles of the would-be settler were only just begun. There was nothing in the land that could provide a regular

  food supply, wherefore he must bring with him all that he was going to consume. If the voyage had been long, the chances were that there would be little more than enough remaining for the return. It was impossible to stay unless there might be a sure resort for more, and this inevitably necessitated a base of supplies reasonably near at hand. Moreover, there was nothing easily obtainable in California that could serve as an article of exchange. Cortes and Pizarro had found

  vast quantities of ready-made wealth in Mexico and Peru, but there was nothing of the sort in California. Thus, colonies could be maintained only at great expense, and governments were poor and disinclined to spend money except for a definitely recognizable return. Not until the late 18th century did European countries display a willingness to finance explorations and colonization for scientific objects, and even then there was usually the ulterior motive of

  imperialistic design. Yet, for strategic reasons, Spain endeavored during more than two centuries to occupy the Californias from Cape San Lucas to the north, and after her extraordinary efforts had, at length, achieved success, she at her own expense supported the colonies of the northern coast, which otherwise must have failed. Those who would make the journey to California by land encountered difficulties which, until the close of the 18th century, were perhaps greater than

  those of the voyage by sea. There were the same problems of the immense distance to be traversed, including lack of information, scurvy, insufficient supplies, and the lack of an article of exchange, just as in the case of the routes by sea. In addition, there were hostile intervening peoples to be considered. A small party might conceivably have carried supplies enough to cross what is now the United States, but would almost certainly have succumbed to the

  Indians. A large party might defeat the Indians, but could not carry sufficient food. Thus faced by the dilemma of a violent death or starvation, it is no wonder that the Atlantic Coast pioneers did not reach the Pacific until the frontier of settlement had been pushed many hundreds of miles to the west. Furthermore, there were the actual geographic difficulties of great mountain chains, wide deserts, and undeveloped lands, making the discovery of a practicable route a problem in

  itself of no mean proportions. A study of the factors just referred to makes it clear that, under normal conditions, California could be occupied and held only through development of an advancing base of supplies, that is, through the settlement of intervening lands, until a point were reached near enough to assure the settlers of readily accessible relief for their necessities. Such a development was bound to be slow, requiring centuries for its completion,

  unless peculiar or extraordinary circumstances should arise to make nations or individuals desirous of overcoming the great obstacles in the way. Strategic reasons impelled Spain to hasten her northward colonization to include California. An even more rapid settlement would surely have occurred if California's vast wealth in precious metals had become known, for that would have given an exceptionally alluring economic reason for individual effort. The history of California,

  down to 1848, therefore, reduces itself to this. Those nations which approached by land would, in normal course, have the best opportunity of getting a foothold because of the advantage of an advancing base of supplies. The first-comer would not necessarily retain the land, for if it proved desirable it might eventually be taken over by a stronger power. California was eminently desirable, for it contained wealth in gold and a good port on the Pacific as original inducements,

  with eventual possibilities of a greater and varied character. The United States had the best opportunity under normal conditions, for she was geographically better located than her rivals for a solid advance from base to base by land, even better than Spain and her successor Mexico, who held the province by a thin and precarious line of communications, besides which Mexico was so weak that she could not have retained the land in any event.

  The history of California proved to be, therefore, an interesting race between the development of the United States and the discovery of California's gold. Had the discovery come many years earlier than it did, some other great power might have acquired California and the entire Pacific coast, or it might have become a Hispanic-American republic, thus delaying or perhaps altogether preventing the opportunity of the United States to obtain frontage on the western ocean.

  Most of the great peoples of the earth advanced by sea or land toward the Californias. Chronologically considered, they were the Indians who were on the ground at the dawn of California history, the Chinese, Spaniards, English, Japanese, Dutch, Russians, Portuguese, French, and Americans. The prize fell eventually to the powers which came by land. Thus the peoples of Spain, England, France, and Russia began approaches which in the hands of their successors Mexico, the United States,

  England, and Canada, and the United States again in Alaska, resulted in the acquisition of all the old Californias, stretching from Cape San Lucas indefinitely northward to the end of the North America. The achievements of each one of these peoples will be taken up, or at least alluded to, but the major share of attention belongs properly to the Spaniards, who discovered and settled California, and to the Americans who developed it into the great state of the American Union,

  which it undoubtedly is today. End of chapter one.

• 02 - The Indians

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  CHAPTER II. THE INDIANS. First of all the historic peoples to acquire California were the Indians. It is therefore pertinent to ask why it is that California is no longer an Indian country in any sense of the term.

  The answers will be made in course of many of the succeeding chapters, but it will become clear from this that the Indian could not hope to compete with the civilized races, though he might have rendered their occupation of California more difficult than in fact he did. Anthropologists frequently attempt to classify primitive peoples according to different standards

  which they apply. To the lay mind, these classifications are helpful, even though they are almost invariably denounced by anthropologists themselves other than the authors of the particular classifications. Perhaps the most generally accepted mode of describing primitive man of prehistoric times is accorded to the implements he used.

  Thus there lived the Paleolithic or Old Stone Age man, who used rough stone implements, followed by the Neolithic, New Stone Age man, who improved his implements by polishing them. Then came ages of bronze and iron until historic times were reached when man first began to write down records. Various paleothnologists have dared to estimate the length of time man existed in each of

  the ages. One of them, Mortellet, gives 222,000 years of life to Paleolithic man and 10,000 for the Neolithic, bronze, and iron ages together. The date for the beginning of recorded history is quite definite. That occurred less than 7,000 years ago.

  That date is also taken to mark the beginning of a grade of culture which we call civilization. The above suffices, however, if at all, only for man in his most advanced stage at any time. Many people lag far behind the foremost. It therefore has seemed necessary to apply some test whereby backward races may be recognized and differentiated from one another and from civilized peoples.

  One of the most useful of the classifications employed, if also one of the most impossible of applications in a given case, and therefore one of the most criticized by expert authority, is that which distinguishes between three grades of savagery and three of barbarism through which primitive peoples are said to pass before they arrive at a state of civilization. According to this characterization, savage man is a wanderer.

  In the lower, or arboreal, stage he lives in trees and eats fruits and nuts. This is the time when he first differentiates himself from other animals through his acquisition of articulate speech. The vanguard of mankind may have reached this stage anywhere from about 160,000 to 60,000 BC. Learning how to fish and control fire, man passes into the middle, or fishing, stage.

  This may have occurred between 60,000 and 20,000 BC for the leaders of humankind. Then man discovered how to make and use the bow and arrow, and passed into higher savagery or the hunting stage. This may have lasted from about 20,000 BC to about 10,000 BC for those who reached it first. With the invention of pottery, and therefore the very great multiplication and improvement

  of his utensils, man passes into a state of barbarism and tends to give up his wanderings and to lead a settled life. In the lower age of barbarism comes the domestication of animals, followed by the beginnings of agriculture, at which point the middle grade of barbarism is reached. Both of these states first appeared in the Neolithic Age.

  With the use of metals, originally in the Bronze and Iron Ages, particularly with the smelting of iron ore, and with the development of manufacturers of a rude character, man advances into upper barbarism, from which he emerges into civilization when he begins to write down records. As already observed, no hard and fast line between groups, according to the above classification,

  can be drawn in fact. A given people will often exhibit the traits of various groups. Furthermore, inferior peoples imitate the external forms of civilization in a very short space of time, when they come in contact with civilized man, but they can hardly be said to advance at one jump out of a savagery and barbarism.

  After all, however, all that is necessary for the layman to know is that the primitive man, however learned he may be in his own lore, when measured by the standards of civilization, seems to have the mind of a child. Primitive Californians ranged from a state of upper savagery to that of lower barbarism in the case of the Indians of the Santa Barbara Channel, who were by far the most advanced.

  The average in the region taken over eventually by the Spaniards was about that of upper savagery or some 15,000 years behind the white man in general culture. There are many controversies about their origin and racial affinities, which need not be entered into at great length here. It is generally agreed that they and other Indians of this hemisphere came either from

  Asia or the Pacific Islands, whether by way of Alaska, the long sea route, very likely against their will driven by storms, or even across some prehistoric Pacific continent. This has not been definitely determined. The number of tribes in California without close racial affinities seems to have been very great.

  According to Krober, the leading authority on the subject, there were as many as 21 linguistic families, not to mention the much greater number of dialects. One of the most interesting contentions is that California Indians show evidences of relationship with the Aztecs. Can the great Aztec migration into Mexico have passed by way of California?

  If so, it would seem that some of the least desirable elements were left behind. As the Spaniards found them, the California Indians were not nomadic. Often they were somewhat unsettled in habitation, but always within a very limited territory. The groups in which they lived were hardly tribal. Indeed, they depended on language and topography more than upon any political or social organization.

  The small village was the most common unit. Of first-rate importance, historically, is the number of Indians who dwelt in California. Not many years ago, it was taught in the schools of this country that there were only some 250,000 Indians in all of what is now the United States at the time of the discovery of America.

  With a more intensive study of far western history, there has come about a considerable multiplication to this figure. There is one estimate for California alone which reaches as high as 700,000. This number seems far too great. Krober's estimate of 133,000 quite likely approximates the fact.

  Figures for the region occupied by Spain after 1769 are very confusing since only the records of the missions, which were far from containing all the Indians in the conquered country, even approach completeness. It would seem not unreasonable to say that there may have been some 70,000 Indians between San Francisco and San Diego or adjacent thereto.

  These figures become significant in the light of the scant number of Spaniards in California. In the entire Spanish period, the population of California was never much higher than 3,000, and for more than two decades it was less than 1,000. Indeed, in the crucial years of the early settlement, Spain held some 400 miles of territory in the face of a patent, if not very strenuously manifested Indian hostility, notably in the

  South, with from less than 100 to about 200 men more than 1,000 miles from effective reinforcement. It was this fact that made the whole history of California tremble in the balance. Success crowned Spain's efforts, wherefor unthinking posterity has assumed that the task was easy. It will be one of the purposes of this volume to show forth the Spanish achievement in truer

  perspective and to indicate its overwhelming importance as affecting the later acquisition of the province by the United States. Against a determined and competent Indian people, Spain would have found it impossible to prevail. Fortunately, the Californians showed neither the one attribute nor the other.

  This will appear from a general survey of their manner of life. Though there were many differences from group to group, there was a general underlying uniformity which applied to most of them. It will therefore suffice here to describe them as a whole, making such differentiation in specific customs as may seem necessary.

  Judged by standards prevailing among civilized peoples, the habits of the Californians were, to say the least, gross and somewhat in need of expurgation in the telling. Krober sums them up as follows. Quote, ethnologically, California may be said to be characterized by the absence of agriculture and of pottery, by the total absence of totemism or gentile organization, by an unusually simple

  and loose social organization in which wealth plays, for a somewhat primitive and an American group, a rather important part, by the very rude development of all arts except basketry, by the lack of art of realism, by a slight development of fetishism and by the conspicuous lack of the symbolism and ritualism so highly developed by most of the American Indians, by the marked prevalence of religious restrictions connected with birth, death, sexual matters

  and similar phases of life, by the predominance among ceremonials of mourning and initiation rites, and by a considerable development of true conceptions of creation and mythology. These characteristics hold true in some degree almost throughout the entire state, but in nearly every case they are most marked in the large central region, the inhabitants of which may be justly regarded as the most typical of Californians. Hand in hand with

  these ethnological characteristics go the temperamental ones of an unwarlike nature and a lack of intensity and pride which are such strongly marked qualities of the American Indians as a whole. This may be illustrated by a discussion of some of their more obvious customs. Dress had little to do with style or morality, as those words are now understood, but depended

  more especially on climate. In summer the men wore a loincloth or nothing. There was no such thing as a sense of shame. The women wore an apron or skirt reaching from the waist to the knees, made usually of tulig grass. Skins of animals gave additional warmth in winter. Style entered in, to some extent. Ornaments of bone, shell or wood were worn in the ears or hair or around the necks or wrists. Women beautified themselves by tattooing

  their faces, necks and breasts. And the men were not free from this bit of vanity. The latter often painted their bodies grotesquely, hardly from a sense of humor, but rather to frighten evil spirits and enemies away, or perhaps also from motives of style. Homes were simple in the extreme. The typical wigwam, made in conical shape of poles and banked with earth, with an opening in the top for smoke to go out and air to come in,

  and with a slit in the side for an entrance, was the most commonly used. In summer the Indians of central and southern California, who were somewhat more backward than those of the north, often found sufficient shelter under a bush or in a tree. This does not apply to the Indians of the Santa Barbara Channel, however. They had well-fashioned huts of thatch. Those who hold that food is the mainspring of human activities will not be loath to admit

  that the diet of the Californians left much to be desired. They ate very little meat, because they lacked domestic animals and were so beastly lazy, especially in central and southern California, that they were poor hunters. Nevertheless, they were far from being vegetarians. On the contrary, they ate nearly everything that teeth could bite which came their way. Coyotes, crows, lizards, rats, mice, frogs, and not merely the hind legs, skunks and snakes

  were eaten by many groups. And when a dead whale drifted ashore, it provided occasion for rejoicing, because of the meat it supplied. Grasshoppers were something of a delicacy. They were eaten in various forms, dried, mashed, or roasted. Many of the Indians caught fish, but many others, even those who dwelt along the coast, confined themselves to taking salmon and lamprey eels in the rivers. Bear meat and the flesh of other large game were

  rarely eaten, not that the Indians objected to the taste, but because they believed that such dangerous creatures must be possessed of a demon, and to eat the meat would mean swallowing the demon. The rough delicacies thus far named were not, however, the principal food supply of the Californians. Otherwise, there would have been no Californians left to greet the white man. The Indians lived chiefly on foods that grew wild. Of these,

  acorns were easily the most important item. They were ground to a flour and cooked to make bread. Many wars were fought in primitive California over the possession of acorn groves. Next after acorns came seeds, especially of grasses and herbs. Roots and berries were also used. The soil was left untilled, for to the natives the land seemed bountiful enough as it was. In a word, then, the Californians ate little more than that which came easily

  to hand without effort. It is hardly necessary to observe that a country with no better food supply than that just described would be little better than a barren desert to the white man coming from afar to make settlements. Occupations were simple and kind. In time of peace the man busied himself in doing nothing chiefly. Occasionally he would hunt or fish, but much more often not. The women did all the real work. They gathered the acorns, seeds

  and other food, did all of the drudgery about the domestic hearth, and made clothing and such other simple articles of manufacture as the Indians required. Worthy of special notice were the waterproof baskets, stone cooking vessels, and awls of bone that they fashioned. The northern and southern Californians had canoes and rafts, but those of the central regions, despite their aquatic opportunities, seemed to be little, if at all, acquainted

  with this valuable adjunct of primitive life. Nothing but tully rafts graced the waters of San Francisco Bay. It was in war that the men found their true occupation. Their military customs are particularly deserving of notice because of their bearing eventually upon the Indians' prospects of retaining the country against the white man. Attention has already been directed to the considerable number of the Californian Indians. Furthermore, they

  seemed to have been far from cowardly. If not exactly brave, they at least showed courage in meeting death. Nevertheless, the Californians must be rated very poor warriors. They had no idea of organization or discipline, and their weapons were nothing more elaborate than bows and arrows and clubs. Worst of all was their apathy in the presence of foreign invasion. They rarely resisted, and never effectually. Battles among themselves were

  not productive of much bloodshed. As soon as somebody was killed or badly wounded, the fight was wont to stop. Yet, weak as they were, the Californians needed only to persevere, just as the much less numerous Yumas did in 1781, to have wiped out the settlements Spain founded after 1769. Some of their other practices in warfare may also be noted. It was customary to cut off the heads, hands and feet of a dead enemy

  to save as trophies. Scalping was rare except among the Southern Indians. The gustatory habits of the Californians did not ordinarily extend to cannibalism, but a bit of every brave enemy who had died in battle might be eaten, not because of the meat he provided, but rather in order to get his courage. Prisoners of war were almost always put to death and not enslaved. There was little or no warfare of the migratory conquering type, for the

  Californians had found their several abiding places and were satisfied with them. There was some economic wars, such as those arising from disputes over acorn groves or from the erection of a weir by a down river tribe to prevent salmon from going upstream, and occasionally there were deliberate campaigns for plunder. Religion was also a cause for war. The medicine men or priests of one tribe would sometimes proclaim that those of another were practicing

  sorcery and magic to the detriment of the former. War was a natural consequence. A curious ceremonial often attended the Californian wars. Not infrequently the time and place of battle would be arranged beforehand by heralds. The personal habits of the Californians were, to say the least, filthy. Their houses and they themselves were covered with vermin, which on occasion they would catch and eat. Food for the winter was often gathered in

  milder seasons and kept around the inner walls of their simple houses. As dried fish was sometimes an important article of the winter food supply, it may well be imagined that the odors of the home were none too inviting. Over some of their other private customs, it is perhaps best to draw a veil. It is not surprising that many diseases followed in the wake of the filthy habits of the Californians.

  To these were added a number of ailments, caused, they believed, by evil spirits. Imaginary ills, many would characterize them, though often the sickness must have been real if indeed of supernatural attribution. To effect a cure, a barking doctor would be first called in to diagnose the disease. He would bark until the spirits revealed the locality of the sickness, and then perhaps would suck the affected part, pretending to cure it.

  Or he might call in an herb doctor to administer treatment. Sometimes an air-proof underground room called the Temescal, an institution of many uses, was resorted to by the sick man for a cure. The idea was that in the hot, and be it said murky, air of the Temescal, often called a sweat-house, in which a fire was built, he could get up a free perspiration. After which, he was supposed to rush outside and jump into cold water. In parts of Central

  and Southern California, the dead were cremated. Their ashes were mixed with grease to form a paste, which was painted upon the face in the sign of mourning. This was retained in honor of the dead until the wind and weather wore it away. Then mourning ceased. Relations of Indians with one another, even within the same tribe, were marked by little that approximated the present-day meaning of economic and political institutions. Yet,

  a kind of money existed. White shells were most used as money, but obsidian and the skins of animals were also employed as a circulating medium. The tribal chiefs were usually hereditary, but in Northern California the richest wielded the scepter, such as it was. Other than that they were leaders in war, the chiefs had no real power beyond that of their personal influence. Payment was mainly a matter for the individual family, and there the man was indeed the

  lord and master. Nevertheless, there were tribal laws which were rigidly enforced. These dealt principally with murder and adultery. Usually, murder might be compounded for by a monetary payment, and in the case of a man this was true also for the crime of adultery. But for the woman there might be a horrible death. The rigors of the law concerning adultery were due rather to a sense of economic injury, since the wife was the most prized possession

  of the husband, rather than to any feeling of moral repulsion over the act itself. Sexual incontinence among the unmarried was hardly an offense at all. The Southern Californians alone were not polygamists. The marriage ceremony was simple or lacking altogether. There were no intermediaries, except relatives, and no promises made. In the North it was purely an economic transaction, just as the purchase of a valuable skin would

  have been. Everywhere it was the usual practice for men to buy their wives. In the North the social standing of the woman depended on the amount she cost. If she were bought on the partial payment plan, she was not considered fully married until all of the debt was paid. Naturally, the girl had no lawful right to refuse the man to whom her parents sold her. Naturally, too, divorce at the will of the man existed, if he were willing to separate

  himself from so valuable and expensive a piece of property. It is at least interesting as an evidence of the primitive mentality of the Californian Indians that men were wont to affect the pains of childbearing in the belief that by this procedure they lightened the labors of the woman. Slavery was not unknown, but was rare and never hereditary. With plenty of women to do such little work as they required, there was hardly a need for slaves. The institution

  served rather as punishment for debt and as a penalty for illegitimate birth. The keynote to a broad understanding of the Indian mind lies surely in the study of his religion. It is impossible to give a detailed statement here, but it may suffice to say that there were gods, demons and spirits and omens and portents everywhere and at all times. The rustling of leaves in the forest had something in it of the supernatural to the Indian, and

  so, too, the shooting stars of the heavens and thousands of other little happenings as well. Naturally, the profession of the sorcerer, soothsayer and astrologer fared well among the Indians. Particularly this was so because religion was quite apart from ideals of righteousness and good conduct. Rather, it would seem, it was a necessary evil, something to be guarded against rather than to embrace, for the gods were vengeful when they were not downright

  wicked. He was perhaps the greater hero who could successfully deceive the gods than he who blindly served them. Yet certain of the Californians had a hazy notion of a supreme being and of a future life in which those who had performed the appropriate religious services would get every material want satisfied. Once death came, however, it was necessary for the departed soul to race with the demons in order to get to heaven, and unless his

  relatives performed certain ceremonies to frighten the demons away or give the soul a good start, it would assuredly lose. In times of peace, too, a regard for individual and tribal safety necessitated the keeping of lodge fires. The Temescal, to which none but the men were admitted, was often used for this and other rites, but the fire was retained there only in the cold months. The natives rarely traveled, due in large measure

  no doubt to the chains of religion which bound up their lives with a particular locality. Amusements too, such as they were, grew out of a religion. The Temescal was something of a clubroom for the men, as well as a religious temple. Dancing and feasting at different seasons were also in the nature of a religious ceremonial. The dancing was accompanied by chants, and the men alone took part. Formal amusements, as such, did not exist, unless

  gambling is to be so considered. The Californians were indeed inveterate gamblers. It can be seen that no civilized state might be expected to develop among the barbarous Californians. The only question was, how long could they postpone the inevitable conquest of the land by a capable people? They had the advantage of distance from civilized lands, intervening geographical difficulties, and considerable numbers among themselves. Yet they did not

  delay white settlement and conquest for a single day, once the white men had overcome the obstacles of nature. This is, indeed, an evidence of their insufficiency. But it was also far more than civilization had a right to expect. That the Spaniards were so successful in coping with them is more a tribute to the Spaniards than conclusive proof of utter Indian incapacity. Footnote. The subject of the California Indians has recently been

  treated exhaustively and authoritatively by Alfred L. Kroeber, whose manuscript is in the hands of the Smithsonian Institution awaiting publication as this volume goes to press. Among the numerous writings of Professor Kroeber already in print, the two following are of special interest to the general reader. 1. Indians of California, Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 30, Part 1, A-M, Handbook of American Indians

  North of Mexico, Washington, 1907, 190. 2. Types of Indian Culture in California, University of California, Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, Berkeley, 1904, Volume 2, Number 3. End of Chapter 2.

• 03 - The Chinese along the Pacific Coast in Ancient Times

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  3. THE CHINESE ALONG THE PACIFIC COAST IN ANCIENT TIMES In the past, present, and future, the peoples of the Far East have been, are, and will continue to be a factor of great importance in the life of the American Pacific coast. Few persons today are aware of this relationship in the distant past.

  Yet it seems clear that the Chinese had some sort of opportunity to acquire a footing on this coast at least a thousand years before the discovery of America by Columbus. And in the early modern period, Japan was once very near to endangering Spain's hold on her Pacific colonies. If it had happened that the Chinese had followed up their opening and populated the land, in

  all probability the Pacific coast, perhaps all of the Americas, never would have been white. European races might indeed have made conquests, but the examples of India, Egypt, and China herself today are eloquent evidence to the effect that a people whose numbers run into the millions are fairly secure in their hold upon a land, however dominated they may be

  politically and economically. For instance, India, which began to be conquered by European peoples some 400 years ago, is reputed to have only about 100,000 whites in a population of 315 million, or one in over 3,000. To return to the relations of California and the Far East, the Oriental question has, since

  1849, been mainly one of immigration, while trade with China and Japan has for some time been an important element in the economic growth of the Pacific states. Whatever attitude one takes with regard to those countries, few or none will deny their affecting California and the other states along the Pacific in the future. China is said to contain one-fourth of the world's entire population, 413 million, and

  Japan is a country of over 50 millions. Moreover, both peoples have undoubted physical strength and virility, such that they are able to endure hard labor and privation in almost any climb, and both have an intellectual capacity which already enables them to cope with a white man. The Japanese have shown ability in warfare, and there is no reason to expect that the

  Chinese cannot also become effective. From these facts, some have argued the imminence of a yellow peril striking at us perhaps through the weakly guarded back door of Hispanic America, if not directly at our gates. However that may be, few will deny that our relations with such great, numerous, and powerful people are bound to be very important in the future, almost certainly more so than they

  have been in the past. A history of California that did not give some attention, therefore, to our neighbors across the sea would most assuredly be lacking in perspective. There are numerous evidences that Chinese or other Orientals visited this coast many centuries before Europeans came.

  No such difficulties in getting here were encountered by them as the white man had to face. Indeed, the difficulty was often one of keeping from coming in view of the storms and currents that drove them on. If one looks at a map showing the Pacific as it really is, and not as the false Mercator

  projection maps, which have for so long dominated and deceived us, would make it appear, he will see that it is possible to go in an almost direct line from China to California without ever being far from land. As the accompanying cut shows, the route lies by way of Japan and the Kuril Islands to Kamchatka, and thence by way of the Komondorsky and Aleutian Islands to Alaska and California.

  Between the farthest east of the Komondorsky Islands and the farthest west of the Aleutian Group, there is a stretch of about 200 miles of sea. At no other place along the route are lands so much as 100 miles apart. Furthermore, there is a powerful and warm ocean current called the Black Stream, or Japanese current, which takes this very course, breaking to the west again after it has left

  California to return to Asia by way of the Hawaiian Islands. As it leaves Japan and passes the Kuril Islands, this current has a velocity of from 75 to 100 miles a day. There is said to be an authentic record of some 60 Oriental craft which were driven across the Pacific in the 18th and 19th centuries.

  Furthermore, Indian traditions are full of stories about the coming of ships out of the west. In 1774, when the great Spanish explorer Juan Batista de Anza was at Carmelo, he saw a strange wreck of a type of construction which none of the Spaniards there had ever seen, no doubt an Oriental boat.

  In 1815, Captain Alexander Adams of the Brig Forester came upon a Japanese junk off Santa Barbara. It was drifting before the waves, rudderless and without a mast. Captain Adams went on board and found 14 dead in the hold and three survivors. The boat had started on a voyage from Osaka to Yeto, or Tokyo, both in Japan, and had

  been out 17 months. Once arrived on this coast, it was of course possible for the Oriental boats to return along the southern courses of the current, but the few who were still alive, ignorant of the root of the stream, may well have preferred not to venture again on such a terrible voyage. There is much general evidence that the Chinese must have reached the western shores of the

  Americas and produced an effect on the life of the inhabitants. It is said that there are among the Indians many traditions of recognizably Chinese origin and also linguistic affinities, notably so in the Puget Sound country. Many of the customs of the most advanced Indian peoples of the American continents, the Aztecs, Mayas and Incas, show a marked similarity to those of the Chinese.

  Some of the Indian hieroglyphics were like those the Chinese employ. There were noteworthy resemblances in religious practices, such institutions and beliefs as the transmigration of souls, the highly developed monastic system in Mexico, religious festivals, household gods, the use of incense and chantings, of charms and amulets, cremation, the preservation of ashes and urns, and the idea that an eclipse was produced by a celestial dragon devouring

  the sun, were common to both China and the Americas. There were many similarities in architecture. A notable instance was that of the rope-like bridges in Peru made of twisted willow branches, almost exactly like the twisted bamboo bridges of certain parts of China. Many other customs of the two lands were peculiarly alike, political, marital and industrial.

  In China, the emperor used to plow a furrow annually with a yellow plow. This ceremony is said to be nearly 4,000 years old. In Peru, the same ceremony was performed by the Inca monarch, but there the plow was of gold. As are these evidences, they cannot be accorded too much weight, for it is customary for those

  peoples who have not achieved the fullness of civilization to develop quite independently from one another on markedly similar lines. Even the ceremony of the plow has been found in other lands. There are actual remains, however, to prove a likelihood, and almost a certainty, of Chinese appearances on our Pacific coast in the very distant past.

  In the course of excavations, ancient Chinese implements and coins have been found. Notable instances of this have occurred in the Pacific Northwest. A Chinese bronze fan with ancient Chinese characters was found at Victoria, British Columbia. And at a place called Cassiar in the same province, some brass coins were unearthed,

  said to be over 3,000 years old. The one thing lacking to prove Chinese visits to this coast has been that of incontrovertible literary evidence. According to the New York Tribune of September 10, 1890, the Reverend Dr. Sha, a missionary in China, claimed to have discovered a manuscript at Sinigang Fu, China, proving that a regular

  trade existed between China and California in the first century of the Christian era. This assertion seems never to have been verified. Definite literary evidence does exist, however, showing that as early as the 5th century, the Chinese knew of a land called Fuxing, which many writers have identified with the Pacific coast of North America.

  The story is found in volume 231 of the Great Chinese Encyclopedia, and not only there but in many other Chinese works of recognized authority, and it has long been known to Chinese scholars. In other words, the account itself is authentic, whatever the truth may be concerning the facts it relates.

  The facts stated in the Chinese Encyclopedia are substantially as follows. In 499 A.D., a Buddhist priest named Huishan came to China from the kingdom of Fuxing. He told the route he had taken from China to that country, giving directions followed and distances traveled, and told about the peoples encountered on the way. Fuxing he described in detail.

  He wound up his account by saying that in 458, five mendicant Buddhist priests from Kabul, in Afghanistan, went there, introduced Buddhism and the monastic system, and reformed the manners and customs of the country. The remarkable feature about this story is that it corresponds so nearly with the facts about the Pacific coast as we now know them.

  There were some inconsistencies, however. Some of the translations make Huishan say that the natives had horses, carts, and grapes, things which are usually regarded as not having existed in the Americas. Very few travelers, who have seen a land for the first time, however, without the advantage of other travelers' accounts to correct their own faults in perspective, have been

  accurate in all the details of their story. Herodotus told of a land in which the air was filled with feathers, and he had heard of another, but doubted the truth of the story, where men slept for six months at a time. Naturally, to peoples who rarely or never saw a snowstorm, and who had never heard of

  an arctic winter, Herodotus long seemed to be the father of liars. To date, nobody doubts any longer that Herodotus was truthful, and essentially accurate, about the peoples he described. Similarly, it is perfectly clear that Marco Polo was in China in the thirteenth century, and that his tale of travels was founded on fact.

  The value of his account is but little lessened when he tells of a bird, the rock and the Arabian nights, so large and strong that it could seize an elephant and lift it in the air, or of oxen as large as elephants, of men with tails and of dogs the size of asses, and so on, ad infinitum. Indeed, what more remarkable yarns were spun than those of the Spanish conquerors of the

  New World, of which more later, in their expeditions along our own Pacific coast. Furthermore, Huishan was not a Chinese, and had to talk through an interpreter. What more natural than that these things with which the Chinese were not familiar should be interpreted in terms of things they knew. It may be added, too, that Huishan's account, in its present form, is the result of many

  ages of successive copyings. Not only have words have more than fourteen centuries in which somewhat to change their meaning, but also that crimes of copyists are too frequent in all ages to permit of any doubt in the minds of those who have used documentary materials as to the likelihood of error.

  Indeed, some have preferred to believe that the word translated as grapes was intended for tomatoes. When all is said and done, however, every other bit of evidence is in favor of the authenticity of the voyage to Fuxang. The only remaining doubt is the location of Fuxang.

  Huishan's description of the route traveled, and the distances, would make Fuxang lie about in California or Mexico. The only other possibility that has ever been discussed is whether it might have been Japan. This, however, was impossible. There are authentic records of Chinese knowledge of Japan at least as early as 57 A.D., and

  hardly any of Huishan's description of Fuxang would have applied to Japan. The distance from China was many thousand miles too short. Fuxang was said to be about 5,000 miles east or southeast of Great Han, which he described as about 3,000 miles northeast of Japan. This in itself is almost clear proof that he could not have referred to Japan.

  Furthermore, there is no tree in Japan at all resembling the wonderful Fuxang tree of Huishan's account. And finally, Buddhism was not introduced into Japan until 552 A.D. It is clear, then, either that Fuxang was in America, presumably in Mexico, or else that the story was a lie.

  The evidence that it was true is almost overwhelming. In the first place, Huishan succeeded in inspiring all whom he met with confidence in his story. The story itself bears internal evidences of truthfulness, including its freedom from the marvelous or unnatural. Huishan had with him a large quantity of so-called silk and a strange mirror, the description

  of which corresponds respectively to the vegetable fiber of the century plant and the obsidian mirrors of the Aztecs and their predecessors. Most important of all, he gave an accurate description of the peoples of the Aleutian Islands and Alaska, and especially of life and conditions in what could only have been Mexico.

  In his recital about Fuxang, Huishan said, That region has many Fuxang trees, and it is from these trees that the country derives its name. The leaves of the Fuxang resemble the tung tree, and the first sprouts are like those of the bamboo.

  The people of the country eat them, and the fruit, which is like a parent form, but of reddish color. The bark is spun into thread, from which they make cloth for wearing apparel. They also manufacture a finer fabric from it, and make paper from the bark of the Fuxang tree.

  Mexico means the land of the century plant, just as Fuxang was named for the Fuxang tree. In no other country in the world is there a plant put to such uses as those described by Huishan but the maguey, or century plant, of Mexico. The sprouts of the century plant do resemble those of the bamboo, and the people do eat them.

  The plant does furnish a rough sort of thread from which a kind of hempen cloth is made, and also a fine variety resembling linen. Furthermore, paper is made from the century plant, but from the fiber and not the bark. The prickly pear of Mexico is usually reddish and edible, though indeed it does not grow on the century plant.

  Huishan might have added yet other attributes of the century plant, notably its provision of intoxicating liquor, but it seems quite improbable that he should have hit upon such a clearly recognizable description of a wonderful plant which was utterly unknown in Asia unless he had, in fact, seen it. The country contains no iron, said Huishan, but it produces copper.

  Gold and silver are not valued, and trade is conducted without duties and levies and without fixed prices. Mernor existed in Mexico, but was unknown to the natives, while copper was indeed abundant. Trade was carried on by means of barter, without a circulating medium, while gold and silver were used principally for ornaments.

  They have no citadels or walled cities, no soldiers or military appliances, and they do not wage war in that kingdom, said Huishan. This accords with the view of writers about the pre-Aztec peoples of Mexico, for the warlike Nahuatl tribes, among whom the Aztecs were numbered, did not arrive until the 13th century. They have a species of writing, said Huishan.

  It is generally recognized that the Mexicans had a highly developed pictographic writing which contained the germ of a phonetic writing. Long description was given by Huishan of the methods of punishment for crime, including such features as covering an offender with ashes and leaving him to die. This, and other practices referred to, survived in Mexico down to the time of the Spanish

  conquest. Similarly, the marriage customs were in part described, with a mention of unique features in a statement that the marriage ceremony resembled that of China. Even here, too, the estimate was remarkably true to the facts with regard to Mexico. Finally, the story of Huishan agrees strangely with the Mexican legend of the Pais Quetzalcoatl,

  who came from across the seas and introduced many religious practices into the country. The likenesses of the old Mexican religion to early Buddhism are many and striking. There is a record of a high priest of Mixteca who was called Tezaca, or the Man of Saca. It is at least a curious parallel that Buda himself was called Sakyamuni, or the Man Hermit of Sakyá.

  The root Zaca, Sakyá, it may be noticed, occurs frequently in Mexican place names, for example, Zacatula, Zacatecas. Much more evidence might be given, but it is perhaps already sufficiently clear that Huishan had indeed visited Mexico. Furthermore, the five Buddhist missionaries must surely have passed along the coast of

  California on their way to Mexico. They or others like them did indeed introduce a new religion, including the institution of a monastic system, and they reformed the manners and customs of Mexico, perhaps also Peru. But the people of the New World remained of the same race and in much the same state of

  backwardness as before, for only stray individuals came from the Far East, and not any more or less civilized mass. The question arises why such an enlightened and numerous people as the Chinese did not take over this Pacific coast land of which they had heard, when because of its relatively slight population and lack of advancement, it might have seemed easy to do so.

  The history of China would undoubtedly provide a satisfactory answer. Attention may be called to two interesting facts of that history which might have acted as a deterrent. One of them was the long survival of feudalism in Chinese life, involving the separate rule and separate ambitions of different princes.

  China was unable, therefore, to develop as a strong unitary government, and such loosely formed empires as China was do not ordinarily engage in overseas undertaking. There is too much trouble at home. The second factor was the binding conservatism of Chinese tradition, which goes thousands of years farther back than that of any other great living people.

  In the time of Confucius, 551 to 479 BC, the Chinese were unquestionably many centuries ahead of their contemporaries in Western Europe, but by the 5th century AD the day had already come when they were too contented with the greatness of their past and stratification had set in. Confucius himself formulated the moral ideas of the Chinese in a way that satisfied them,

  and they proceeded more and more, thenceforth, to turn inward upon themselves. Instead of pursuing natural science and observation, they devoted themselves to memorizing ancient books, for in them, they thought, the problems of life had been solved. Such a state of mind was not calculated to produce a transpacific conquest. It is well to remember, however, that for all of their advantages, the acquisition of

  a foothold on the North American Pacific coast would have been a slow and difficult process, involving the necessity for advancing bases of supply. China was far away, and the route to California was over the water. But as already pointed out, the sea route they would have used was an extraordinarily favorable one, and China had almost unlimited time.

  The Russians went all the way from European Russia to California in less than 300 years. From a point much nearer at hand, and with as good an opportunity to go by land, China had a thousand-year chance. But the peril never passed the bounds of potentiality. Footnote.

  The principal basis for this chapter is vining Edward Pason, an inglorious Columbus, or evidence that Huishan and a party of Buddhist monks from Afghanistan discovered America in the 5th century AD. New York, 1885. End of chapter 3.

• 04 - The Japanese Opportunity in the Pacific in the Early Modern Period

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  4. The Japanese Opportunity in the Pacific in the Early Modern Period If the Chinese had something of an opportunity in ancient times to acquire a foothold in California and along the Pacific coast, the Japanese had a still better opening, all things in the early 17th century. Japan was at that time relatively as powerful with respect to the rest of the world as she is today, and would have had very little opposition in encompassing

  any designs for an extension of her commercial and political influence. Spain alone stood in the way from the side of the Americas, and Spain was already a declining power with more enemies in Europe than she was able to cope with. Furthermore, under the great Shogun Ieyasu, Japan looked clearly toward the east, and made persistent, though fruitless, endeavors to follow a policy of peaceful penetration in Mexico through the medium of trade. Those

  who today believe they'd describe a yellow peril might indeed have had occasion for alarm had they lived three centuries ago. Fortunately for the future of the United States, however, a strange chance intervened to turn Japan aside from her projects and to close the door of opportunity for more than 200 years. By that time, the United States had come into the most important part of her heritage along the Pacific, and the danger was reduced to

  less discernible proportions. From the standpoint of chronology, the Spaniards come next after the Chinese, but it seemed best to deal here, once and for all, with a Japanese opportunity. The early history of Japan is a maze of mythical obscurity, and it was not until the 5th century that the records which have come down to us can be termed authentic. The middle of the 6th century, however, is a better point of

  the history of Japan, for it was then in 552 that Buddhism was introduced, and with it an advance in culture which brought Japan, for the first time, to the plane of what we call civilization. Little need be said here of the next thousand years of Japanese history. It was at the close of the 12th century that the shogunate was established, to endure for nearly seven centuries. This institution was of the same character

  as that of the mayors of the palace in early French history, whereby the monarchs were reduced to the position of mere roi-fans, or do-nothing kings, with only nominal sovereignty. The Japanese shoguns had the function of providing for the defense and tranquility of the empire, and were given the entire military resources of the state in order to achieve these ends. Thus, the emperors tended more and more to withdraw from active political life, and to

  be looked upon as gods. Meanwhile, feudalism, in all its evils, with military lords more or less dominant on their own estates, was the keynote of national life. The Second World War was almost incessant. It is particularly to be noted that the period from 1333 to 1603 was one of constant strife. During this medieval era of Japan, too, the Buddhist priesthood became enormously wealthy and powerful, and got wholly out of sympathy

  with a mass of the people. Japan was still in a chaotic state when trade relations with the European people were established for the first time. This was with the Portuguese, who visited Japan in 1542, after which date their ships regularly appeared at Japanese ports, introducing, among other things, firearms and a knowledge of how to use them. In 1549, the great Jesuit missionary, St. Francis Javier, came in a Portuguese ship to plant the first

  seeds of the Christian faith in that country. He could not have arrived at a more propitious time, for the people were in a spirit of revolt against Buddhism. Other Jesuits followed. In a few years, the number of their converts reached the hundreds of thousands. Attention may here be called to other events tending to produce an awakening of Japan to the greatness of her opportunity in the Pacific. In 1565, the Spaniards had made a beginning

  of the conquest of the Philippines, and a few years later established themselves at Manila. Whence, a ship sailed each year past Japan and on to Acapulco and Mexico. In 1580, Philip II of Spain became King of Portugal. Although he agreed to keep the dominions of the two crowns separate, this brought the Portuguese East Indies and Portuguese activities in Japan under a measure of Spanish control. Meanwhile, the Dutch had broken away from

  the government of Philip II, and chose to direct their attacks primarily against his Portuguese dominions. In 1600, a Dutch ship appeared in Japan. On this boat, as pilot, was a certain Will Adams, probably the first Englishman to set foot in Japan. Many tales are told about this man. He became a favorite of the Shogun, and was heaped with wealth, honors, and wives, though by his own account he was a virtual prisoner

  in the island kingdom, and longed to return to his family in Europe. This romance loses some of its flavor when we learn that Will Adams was, on one occasion, sent to the Philippines and returned to his Japanese wives. Nevertheless, he was an important figure. To the Japanese, he was able to teach something of the arts of navigation and shipbuilding. To his Dutch friends, he was a useful helper, being in part responsible for the grant to

  them of trading privileges, as a result of which Dutch ships came regularly to Japan from 1609 onward. It may be mentioned, too, that English ships engaged in commerce with Japan from 1613 to 1623. At the opening of the 17th century, the Japanese were indeed a people to reckon with in the affairs of the Pacific. In social organization and material achievements, they were not far

  behind the Europe of their day. For example, they had schools with courses in ethics, law, history, and mathematics, and were in the habit of accumulating libraries. Feudalism still existed, but had only recently been stamped out in Europe. They knew how to use ordinary firearms and cannon, and were capable of warfare on a large scale. Indeed, the Japanese were distinctly a military people. Under the great Shogun Hideyoshi, from 1582 to 1598,

  later called the Napoleon of Japan, an army of nearly 200,000 made an invasion of Korea, while many thousand more were held in the islands in reserve. Many other large armies were utilized in this period for campaigns in Japan. The ability to handle these large forces must needs have been great. Furthermore, the Japanese were a race of sailors. Fishing has always been one of the leading

  industries of the Japanese people. They were also engaging in trade with lands as far away as India, and had established colonies in Luzon, Cochinchina, Cambodia, and Siam. Against this powerful people, Spain could oppose little more than a corporal's guard of fighting men. The total Spanish population of the Philippines was only a few hundred, and the soldiers of the entire empire of Spain and America did not number far into the thousands, not more

  than enough to combat the hostile Indians along the borders. Following the route of the current across the North Pacific, it should not have been difficult for the Japanese to establish advancing bases along the islands and mainland coasts until they reached California. Incidentally, all Australasia and Oceania presented to them a wide-open opportunity. It becomes pertinent, then, to trace the workings of two opposite

  factors, that which urged the Japanese on in their attitude favoring Trans-Pacific relations, and that which induced them to give up this idea and to shut themselves in in their island empire away from communication with the outside world. Hideyoshi was an imperialist, and though he turned his attention more particularly toward Korea, he did not neglect to consider the possibilities of Japanese expansion to European

  possessions in the Pacific. In 1592, he sent an embassy to the Philippines to demand the subjection of those islands to his rule. Nothing came of this, and it was not until after Hideyoshi's death in 1598 that further steps were taken. Hideyoshi was succeeded by Aiyayasu, although he did not take the title of Shogun until 1603, who was for several years engaged in consolidating his power in Japan. Nevertheless,

  in the year 1598, when he came into actual authority, he intimated very strongly to a Spanish friar that he would be glad to have the ships from the Philippines stop in Japan on their way to Mexico and engage in trade with the Japanese. In 1599, he sent an envoy to Manila to press his request. When the Spanish governor of the Philippines did not embrace the offer, due, as Aiyayasu thought, to the depredations of Japanese pirates, the Shogun

  seized and executed two hundred of the buccaneers, and then sent a second envoy to Manila. This man arrived in 1602, bearing the Shogun's message. "'Nothing would satisfy my desires,' wrote Hideyasu, so much as to see merchant vessels establishing frequent communication between my country and New Spain." He referred also to the advantages Spanish vessels would have in being able to take shelter in Japanese

  ports and to his wish to see Japanese vessels making voyages between the Coanto and New Spain. In the same year, a Franciscan friar came from Japan to urge acquiescence in Aiyayasu's proposals, on the ground that it would make the Japanese government more willing than they had recently shown themselves to be to accept Christian teaching in Japan. This factor, coupled with several others, induced the governor to petition the royal authorities in Spain

  for permission to establish the trade. Several voyages between the Philippines and Japan were made in the next few years, but nothing was done about opening trade relations between Japan and New Spain, though Aiyayasu continued to desire it. Will Adams was sent to Manila in 1608 and made arrangements whereby the annual ship from Manila should touch at a Japanese port, but it was not to take Japanese goods to New Spain. In 1609, however, Governor

  Vivero, who was proceeding to Mexico after having completed his term of office in the Philippines, was wrecked off the coast of Japan and obliged to remain in that country until the following year. He was well treated by Aiyayasu, who again spoke of his desire for the trade with New Spain. When the Franciscans joined their voices to that of Aiyayasu, for they were alarmed lest the favor that was being shown to the Protestant Dutch might

  operate to check Catholic missionary endeavour, Vivero was convinced. So, in 1610, when he set sail from Japan, he was accompanied by 23 Japanese merchants and an envoy from Aiyayasu to the King of Spain. When Vivero reached Mexico, he found that an expedition was just about to sail toward Japan in search of two mysterious islands, said to be rich in gold and silver. Wherefore, they came to be known by the names Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata.

  Footnote number one. It is usually stated that they had been first visited by a Portuguese navigator, but a remark in Gameli Carreri's account of his travels around the world identifies them with the Solomon Islands. These islands were discovered in 1567 by Alvaro Mendana de Naíra, who headed another expedition in 1595 with a view to taking possession of this group. This time, the islands were not found, and for two centuries they remained

  one of the mysteries of the Pacific. What more natural than that they should have traveled, like so many other things the Spaniards expected to find farther north? Gameli calls the commander Alvaro de Vendosa and gives 1596 as the date, but actually goes on to describe the voyage of Mendana in 1595. Into footnote one. These islands were sought more as a wave station at which the ships from the Philippines might stop than for the wealth they might contain.

  The Spanish authorities believed this course would be safer than to utilize a Japanese port. The commander of the expedition of 1611 in search of Rico de Oro and Rica de Plata was a man who has become widely known in the annals of California, for it was none other than Sebastián Vizcayino who had made a famous voyage to Monterrey in the years 1602 to 1603. Footnote two. The relation of Vizcayino to the Californias is discussed in chapter 11.

  In footnote. It was now decided that Vizcayino should first visit Japan in order to thank Aiyasu for the kindness he had shown Vivero and to take back the Japanese merchants. He was also to seek permission to make a survey of Japanese ports on the ground that the Spaniards wished to know the best ports in which to take shelter in case of a storm. However good a navigator Vizcayino may have been, the event proved that he was hardly qualified for an

  ambassadorial task. He embittered the Japanese merchants on board his ship by threatening to hang some of them unless they refrained from quarreling with his sailors. The message that these merchants gave to Aiyasu about their mission to Mexico was also not calculated to please that ruler. They reported that the Spaniards had thanked them but had gone on to say, Our countries are far apart and navigation is difficult. Pray do not come again.

  Nevertheless, Vizcayino was received at the courts of both the Shogun and the Emperor but gave offense by refusing to conform to Japanese court etiquette and by making it plain that he considered his king, or even the viceroy of New Spain, whom he in fact represented, as superior to the highest authorities in Japan. He was given permission, however, to make a survey of the Japanese ports, which he accordingly did. Soon afterward, in 1612,

  he left Japan in order to search for Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata. Arrived at the place where they were indicated on the map, he searched three weeks without finding them, which is not to be wondered at since they were not there. Forced back by storms, Vizcayino returned to Japan, but this time did not get the cordial reception which had previously been granted him. Many things conduced to this end. Vizcayino had concealed the primary

  object of his voyage, which was the discovery of the two rich islands. This became known to the Japanese authorities through Will Adams and the Dutch, who also informed them that it was unwise to have allowed the Spaniards to survey the Japanese ports, as undoubtedly this was done by them with ulterior motives in view. It was the Spanish way, they said, to send missionaries to stir up rebellion, and then troops, to effect a conquest. Ayayasu

  was displeased, but seems not to have been alarmed. Vizcayino, too, had been guilty of inconsistencies in discussing the objects of his mission. On one occasion he maligned the Dutch, and said that the principal business about which he had come to Japan was to find out whether the Japanese intended to be friends with the Dutch, for if that people were allowed to enter Japan, the King of Spain would not consent to have his own subjects trade there.

  It was well known, too, that he represented only the viceroy of New Spain instead of the King, as he had made pretense of doing. Nevertheless, Ayayasu continued to request the Spaniards to consent to the trade with Mexico, though the petitions were presented by other hands than Vizcayino's. The latter, meanwhile, had procured another ship since his own had become unseaworthy, and departed on this in 1613. He records that he was virtually no

  more than a passenger on this vessel, which belonged to a powerful Japanese lord, and he seems to have left it at the first port in New Spain, though the ship went on to Acapulco, arriving there early in 1614. The Spanish government had for a time been disposed to permit the trade between Japan and Mexico, and in 1612 the Council of the Indies formally gave advice to that effect to the King. Immediately there was a chorus

  of objections. The Portuguese of Macao feared that it would ruin their trade. The Jesuits felt that it might result in giving over Japan to the Franciscans from Manila, and the Manila merchants, who were profiting by the trade between the Philippines and Japan, were inclined to believe that they would be injured by the competition of Mexico. These elements were able to carry the day. The Japanese trade with Manila was saved, but that with

  Mexico never got fairly under way. More might have been accomplished, but for the death of Aayasu in 1616. His successors found reason to distrust the Spaniards, with the result that in 1624 all communications with them were discontinued. The prime cause for this cessation of commercial relations was the same as that which a few years later caused Japan to close her doors to Europeans and shut herself in. This was the aversion of

  the Japanese government to Christianity. The early successes of the Portuguese Jesuit in Japan have already been alluded to. Much of their good fortune was due to the support of the warrior Nobunaga, 1573 to 1582, who made use of Christianity to overthrow the then much more powerful and more feared Buddhist priesthood. Hideyoshi, 1582 to 1598, seemed at first to favor the new religion, but in 1587 he executed a sudden about-face and ordered

  the expulsion of the Jesuits from Japan, alleging that they had preached things contrary to the law and had even had the audacity to destroy temples devoted to other religions. Back of this there seems to have been a suspicion that the Jesuits aimed at an ultimate foreign conquest. It was noticed that they were very successful in their attempts to convert certain of the powerful nobles, and some thought that this was done with a viewed promoting civil

  war, into which a foreign government could wedge itself for the sake of achieving its own ends. The Jesuits succeeded in evading this decree, and nothing serious occurred for another ten years. Meanwhile, several Spanish Franciscans from the Philippines came to Japan in 1593 as an embassy to the Shogun, but really with the intention of preaching their religion despite the fact that a papal bull of 1585 had granted the Japanese field

  to the Jesuits. The Franciscans established themselves in Kyoto, and very soon there were evidences of a dissension between them and the Jesuits. Affairs came to a head in 1596. A richly-laden Manila galleon, the San Felipe, under Captain Landacho, was lured into a Japanese port in that year by a Japanese noble, forced upon the beach, and was then claimed by the wily Japanese on the ground that all stranded vessels and their cargoes were the property

  of the authorities on whose shores they had been driven. Landacho endeavored to recover his ship and its precious freight, but was unable to do so since Hideyoshi himself was sharing in the loot. Unable to accomplish anything by soft words, Landacho at length tried threats, dwelling upon the power of the mighty Spanish king, and proof of which he produced a map of the world to show his vast domains. Asked how it was that so many

  countries had come to acknowledge the sway of one man, Landacho replied, Our kings begin by sending missionaries into the countries they wish to conquer. These induce the people to embrace our religion, and when they have made considerable progress, troops are sent to combine with the new Christians. Then our kings have not much trouble in accomplishing the rest. This speech made a very different impression

  from the one the imprudent captain expected. Hideyoshi decided that the time had come to strike at this faith, which at the least seemed likely to produce civil war from which Japan was just on the point of emerging after two centuries of conflict. The result was the first edict of persecution, in 1597, directed against the Spanish Franciscans and their Japanese converts. Twenty-six of them were mutilated and crucified. The Jesuits had not

  been excluded from the terms of the decree, but were protected by their powerful friends, although the order of 1587 was renewed for their expulsion from the country. The death of Hideyoshi in 1598 halted the persecutions. As already mentioned, Ayayasu was eager for Spanish trade, and was therefore ready to tolerate Christian teaching, though without approval. Thus the Jesuits and Franciscans renewed their labors, the latter having in

  1600 secured a veto of the exclusive Jesuit right to the field. Later Augustinian and Dominican fathers also came. Many incidents occurred which tended to revive the former Japanese suspicions. Vizcaino, for example, was unwise enough to remark that his master, the King of Spain, had no desire for trade with Japan. What he really wanted was the extension of the Catholic faith. Ayayasu's views were just the opposite. He wrote to

  the Viceroy of New Spain in 1612, urging an interchange of merchandise, but of Christianity he said, I am persuaded it would not suit us, adding that it would be best to put an end to the preaching of your doctrine on our soil. The persistent quarrels of the Franciscans and the Jesuits, the unfortunate manner in which Vizcaino conducted his mission, and the interpretation placed upon his acts by Wil Adams the Dutch, the reports Ayayasu got

  about Christianity from emissaries he sent to Europe, and the discovery of treason in the ranks of Christian Japanese nobles in his own personal following, at length caused Ayayasu to uproot the foreign religion. There were persecutions and deportations in 1612, 1613, and especially in 1614, though none of the missionaries were put to death. Yet the missionaries evaded deportations, or else made their way back after they had been sent

  out of the country. Hiritada, 1616-1632, the successor of Ayayasu, carried the persecutions to greater extremes, and the missionaries now began to be tortured and executed, as also were Japanese converts, while the Spanish trade was sacrificed as a necessary measure to ensure riddance of Christianity. The death of Hiritada brought no pause in the persecutions, for his son and successor, Ayamitsu, was of the same mind. It is said that from the time

  of the first persecutions, down to 1635, no fewer than 280,000 Japanese were punished for accepting Christianity. In 1636 the Japanese went a step further, and took the fatal action which ended their opportunity for expansion in the Pacific. By the Edict of 1636, Japanese Christians were ordered to apostatize, and Japanese subjects were forbidden to visit Christian lands. To make this latter provision effective, it was ordered that henceforth

  no large ships were to be built in Japan, thus rendering it difficult for the Japanese to leave the country. Furthermore, the death penalty was imposed upon any Japanese subject who should do so. In case he ever returned, no excuse was taken, and it is said that even those who had been driven from the islands by storm were executed. The Portuguese and Dutch were allowed, under great restrictions, to continue their trade, but otherwise a policy

  of non-intercourse with the outside world was to be followed. This measure produced the great Christian revolt of Shimabara of 1637 to 1638, but the government put it down and massacred the survivors. As the Portuguese were suspected of complicity in the revolt, they were forbidden to set foot in Japan again. When the Portuguese of Macau sent an embassy in 1640 to ask for a renewal of their trading privileges, the Japanese governor burned their ship, put the

  four ambassadors and fifty-seven of their attendants to death, and gave the following message to the few who were permitted to live and return to Macau. Inform the inhabitants of Macau that the Japanese wish to receive from them neither gold nor silver nor any kinds of presents or merchandise. In a word, absolutely nothing that comes from them. You are witnesses that I have caused even the clothing of those who were executed yesterday to be burned. Let

  them do the same with respect to us if they find occasion to do so. We consent to it without difficulty. Let them think of us no more, just as if we were no longer in the world. While the sun warms the earth, let no Christian be so bold as to come to Japan, and let them all know that if King Philip of Spain himself, or the very God of the Christians, or even the great Buddha shall contravene this prohibition, he will pay for it with his head.

  Thus did the wide-awake Japan of Hideyoshi and Ayayasu pass into a profound sleep under their successors, a sleep which endured until Commodore Perry entered the Bay of Tokyo in 1853 and induced the Japanese, much against their will, to reopen the country. Thus did Christianity, in a left-handed manner, render a service to those white races which now hold lands around the Pacific. Because of their disapproval of Christianity, the Japanese deprived themselves of an opportunity to be the

  dominant power in the Pacific, perhaps also in its train a world power beyond anything that a Japanese at the present day would even dream about. Possibly they would not have availed themselves of their chance, but who can deny that they most certainly had it? And one of the readiest lands to hand was the old Californias reaching from Cape San Lucas to Alaska, unoccupied in most of its extent until the close of the 18th century, inviting in its potentialities and lying

  along the island-studded route of the Japanese current. Footnote 3. The following works were used in the preparation of this chapter. 1. Ken and George, How Japan Lost Her Chance in the Pacific, in the Outlook for June 27th, 1914. 2. Murakami, Naojirō, Japan's Early Attempts to Establish Commercial Relations with Mexico, in the Pacific Ocean in History, New York, 1917. 3. Murdoch, James, with collaboration of Aizō Yamagata,

  A History of Japan during the Century of Early Foreign Intercourse, 1542-1651, Kobe, Japan, 1903. 4. Nuttall, Zealia, the earliest historical relations between Mexico and Japan, in University of California, Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, Berkeley, 1904. End of footnote 3. End of chapter 4.

• 05 - Cortés and California

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  V. Cortés and California. By far the most important of the peoples, other than the Americans, who intervened in California history, were the Spaniards. They first found the land for the white man, and endeavoured through centuries to occupy it, succeeding at length in doing so.

  Once arrived, they stamped California forever with romantic interest, and played a vital part as affecting the ultimate destiny of the province. First in the list of names of those Spaniards whose achievements directly influenced the course of California history was the great conquistador, or conqueror, Hernando Cortés. Following the discovery of America by Columbus in 1492, the Spaniards had made settlements

  in the West Indies and, a little later, in Panama. Some of their navigators had sailed along the Atlantic coast of the land we now call Mexico, and one of them had applied to it the name Nueva España, or New Spain. In 1519, Cortés landed at Veracruz with a tiny Spanish army, and after two years affected what we usually term the Conquest of Mexico.

  This amounted to little more than the reduction of Mexico City and the route thereto from Veracruz. It was in 1521, with the definitive occupation of Mexico City, that the real conquest of New Spain or Mexico began. Mexico City became the principal base from which expeditions were sent out in all directions.

  The narrow belt ranging south to Panama was soon subjected. There remained the ever-widening spaces to the north. Along one of the lines of the northern advance was California, or the Californias as the Spaniards often called it. This included far more than the Alta California of later days which corresponded to the present

  American state of California. As already pointed out, the Californias began at Cape San Lucas at the tip of Baja California Peninsula and ran indefinitely northward. It was towards this elongated California, or Californias, that the Spaniards for many years directed their attention.

  After native resistance had been overcome at Mexico City in 1521, the Spaniards pushed westward and by 1522 had already reached the Pacific coast in the province of Michoacán, where Cortes formed a settlement at Zacatula. In three years he fought his way across a continent, a continent which it took the Anglo-Sax and successors of John Cabot three centuries to traverse.

  To be sure, the cases were by no means parallel in their difficulties, but it helps one to understand the tremendous energy and force which the Spaniards brought to their conquests when these are compared to the much slower advance of their English rivals. Cortes at this time enjoyed a power which many a so-called absolute monarch might have envied.

  He was governor, captain general, and chief justice of New Spain, and besides had full authority to make conquests as he pleased. He was indeed subject to the King of Spain, but this control was somewhat shadowy, since he did not need to get preliminary royal assent to any measures he might take. In the days he had, and these were for several years the principal check on his effective

  action, arrived at Zacatula, Cortes prepared to make explorations of the unknown coasts to the north. To appreciate the objects he had in mind, it will first be necessary to consider contemporary ideas of the New World. In the time of Columbus, and for years afterward, many people believed that the voyages of 1492

  had discovered merely a new route to the already known lands of eastern Asia. What we now call the West Indies were dimly identified with the islands of Japan, and the nearby mainland was held to be Asia. Two centuries before, an Italian named Marco Polo had crossed Asia to China, where he lived for a number of years and was highly regarded, so much so that the Chinese eventually made

  him a god. Footnote number one. His statue was the only bearded deity in the temple of Tso Tsing, popularly known as the Temple of the Five Hundred Gods at Canton, China. This temple recently burned down.

  Into footnote. At length, he returned to Europe and wrote an account of the far eastern world. Among other matters, he told of the reputedly wealthy island of Sipongo, Japan, and of a straight to the south of China, whence men could proceed to India and in that way back to Europe.

  Marco Polo's account was confirmed in its essentials by other travelers, for example by the Englishman Mandeville, who crossed Asia early in the 14th century. It was logical to suppose that Columbus had come upon these distant lands which Europeans had long known, and indeed, one only has to look at the map to see that the eastern coasts of Asia and North America roughly correspond.

  Naturally, there began at once a search for the strait which should lead to the riches of India. Men looked for it at Panama, where indeed the land narrows, and the ocean was soon found on the other side, but the strait eluded them. When they sought it in the south, they found that South America was of continental proportions.

  It was generally known that there were large islands south of the straits between China and India, but the existence of a continent was unsuspected. South America was therefore styled the New World, while North America did not share in this appellation until much later. The discovery of the Strait of Magellan in 1520 did not satisfy the demand for the traditionally

  known waterway. According to the information supplied by Marco Polo, that was much farther north. Central America was soon traversed, but no strait was found. Men then began to believe that North America might be a southeastward projection from Asia, of which there was also early evidence based on the actual fact of the peninsula of Kamchatka.

  To be sure, nobody had any idea of the vastness of its size, but North America was for a long time not regarded as unusually large. It would be recalled, too, that this idea persisted among the English colonists of the seventeenth century, as witnessed there, under the circumstances, string-like grants from sea to sea.

  After Magellan's long voyage across the Pacific had demonstrated that Asia was far away, North America was far away from Asia, and North America was far away from Asia, and after Magellan's long voyage across the Pacific had demonstrated that Asia was far away, men gradually began to realize that North America was a hitherto unknown continent. Yet, such is the strength of an idea once people become possessed of it.

  A belief in some of the geographical notions which depended on their earlier conception of North America as Asia was still maintained, although there was no longer any necessary reason for doing so. The most persistent of all these ideas was the belief in the existence of a strait. Since it was certainly not in the South, then, obviously, people thought, it must be in the

  North, always just a little farther than the last explorer had gone. People were tremendously interested in finding the shortest route to the rich lands of Asia and the Indies, but there were many remarkable things besides that which they hoped and even expected to come upon. Life in Europe in the Middle Ages had been comparatively stagnant and circumscribed when

  there began to occur a series of remarkable happenings which broadened men's horizons and fired their imaginations. In the 12th and 13th centuries, men left their homes in Western Europe to take part in the Crusades. Trade, wealth, and city life developed.

  Inventions like printing, gunpowder, and the compass offered incalculably great opportunities for diversification of existing conditions, and the Renaissance brought with it not only a revival of ancient learning, but also a receptivity of minds such as the world had not known since the Periclean Age. Then came the discovery of America, which, even while it was still considered to be Asia,

  afforded an extraordinary stimulus to European imaginations, and this was accentuated after Cortes and Pizarro revealed by their spectacular conquests that the new world was well stocked with riches. Men talked of the wonderful things about which the ancients had written, and of those which Marco Polo and other travelers had seen.

  Meanwhile, the 15th and 16th century novel of chivalry had caught and fixed this expectant credulity in the popular mind. Men began to believe that the fantastic adventures of the wandering knights, who single-handedly performed the most extraordinary feats of valor and met with such marvelous experiences, might almost be duplicated in real life.

  Europe was far from having cast off its medieval cloak, however, in the pursuit of things that were new. It was still in the grip of tradition and the sanction of old belief. What they sought in the new world was not so much that which was new, but rather those old but nonetheless wonderful things about which their ancient and medieval masters had

  taught them. It was no wonder that the Spaniards expected to find rich cities to plunder, especially after their conquests in Mexico and Peru had given them concrete proofs of their existence. These lands, however, were as nothing in their wealth to the others they hoped to find. Men had known of the seven cities before they had ever heard of America.

  And now these mysterious municipalities located themselves at large in the new world, until at length they were pinned down to the wretched Moquee pueblos of New Mexico. There also developed the story of Quivira, that great and strange kingdom which so many had heard of, or even claimed to have seen, but which nobody in fact ever found. If Ponce de Leon sought a fountain of youth, it was not that he was a simpleton, but because

  men had believed in such thing for centuries, and now that so many ancient marvels had been revealed, why not also a fountain of youth? Great masses, or even mountains of gold, islands of pearls, and rivers of pitch were quite in the normal course of expectation, and Potosí and other rich minds eventually provided them with a first name.

  From time immemorial, too, there had been stories of Amazon Islands, where nobody dwelt but women. And not less sanctioned by authority was the story of the Gilded Man, whose kingdom was so rich that his people painted him with gold in the morning and washed him off at night. Then there was the terrestrial Paradise, which had found a place on ancient maps, and was

  looked for in America by the Spaniards of the early sixteenth century. In fine, those things which people now would consider supernatural marvels were quite the expected thing among the half-medieval, half-modern conquerors who set foot in the two Americas some four centuries ago. Cortes, like the other men of his day, had all of these ideas in mind.

  He was eager to ascertain the truth with regard to the geography of North America, not from any desire for the advancement of science and knowledge, but because he wished to improve his material fortunes. In particular, he desired to find the mysterious and elusive strait, in the hope that it might prove to be the shortest route from Europe to the wealth of the Far East.

  His letters also tell of Amazon Islands, mounds of gold, and populous cities just a few days journey farther on. Finally, he hoped to acquire new kingdoms for his sovereign, and fresh honors as well as wealth for himself. Yet, it was ten years before Cortes was able to send out his first expedition to the North.

  Many things detained him. He had to set up a new government, reward his companions with grants of land and Indian serfs, build a superb capital at Mexico City, suppress native revolts, and extend its conquests to meet those of the Spaniards pressing north from Panama. And not least of all, he had to encounter the determined hostility of his many and powerful

  personal enemies. He was accused of aiming at independence, and a royal audencia, or body of men whose principal function was to act as a high court of justice, vested also with other functions of the civil power, was established as a check on his authority. Cortes himself went to Spain in 1528 to plead his case in person, returning triumphant in 1530.

  Meanwhile, Cortes had not been idle along the Pacific coast. With the founding of a Spanish port at Zacatula in 1522, he had started to build four ships. Work was unavoidably very slow, however. Aside from the difficulty of maintaining the settlement itself, it was necessary to bring everything but timber to the place.

  There was not so much as a nail in all-new Spain, and there were no skilled workmen and no well-developed methods of transportation to take the many essential things to Zacatula where they were wanted. When matters were progressing somewhat, there was a fire which burned the warehouse, and a fresh start had to be made.

  Nevertheless, after four years' time, his ships were ready in 1526 for the long planned voyage. And orders came to send them across the Pacific to the Maluccas, where a Spanish fleet was reported to be in need of relief. Accordingly, in 1527, Cortes's fleet was dispatched to the far southwest, and the northwest

  voyage was postponed. Cortes's facilities had now so greatly improved that he had five more ships well on the way to completion in 1528 at the time he left for Spain. Thereupon the hostile Audencia caused the work to be stopped, and the hulks were left to decay.

  Nothing daunted, Cortes started to build four more in 1532. His enemies trumped up charges against him with a view to checking his project, but a new Audencia temporarily sided with him, and the boats were soon gotten ready. Cortes's first expedition was composed of two ships and their crews, under the command of Diego Hurtado de Mendoza.

  This was regarded as a preliminary to a later and greater expedition. Hurtado was merely to seek information and not to make any conquests. He was to sail along the coast, except when passing Nueva Galicia, which was ruled by Cortes's great enemy Guzman, who had only recently conquered it. In 1532, Hurtado started up the coast.

  Starting with difficulties he put into shore within Guzman's realm, but that individual forbade him to take on water and supplies or even to make repairs. Going to sea again, Hurtado found himself confronted by a mutiny of his sailors, some of whom transferred to the other ship with a view to returning. That ship was wrecked in the Bay of Banderas in Tepec, and all but two or three of the

  men were killed by the Indians, while Guzman seized the wreckage. Meanwhile, Hurtado sailed on, and some say that neither he nor his ship was ever heard of again. According to others, he and all his men were killed by the Indians at the River Fuerte in Sinaloa.

  This story was reported by the Indians. Decidedly, the voyage had been a failure. Not only were no marvelous things discovered, but also the expedition had been at total loss. Cortes was not discouraged, however, and blamed his misfortune to Guzman's treatment of

  Hurtado. At least, he had acquired more accurate knowledge of the difficulties to be encountered and information about the coasts. Furthermore, the expedition had discovered the Tres Marias Islands, not far beyond which was the beginning of the Californias.

  In 1533-1534 came the second sea expedition under the auspices of Cortes in his endeavors to pierce the mysteries of the north. Diego Becerra was in command, while Hernando de Grijalva had charge of the second of the two ships. The latter almost at once parted company with Becerra's ship, presumably under the stress

  of bad weather, and never again rejoined it. It is possible that he wished to gain riches and glory on his own account through the discovery of the marvelous things Cortes had in mind, rather than receive his relatively slight portion as a result of Becerra's achievements. The example of Cortes, who had invaded New Spain against the orders of the governor of

  Cuba, his superior officer, was frequently followed by the adventurous leaders of the 16th century. The discovery of the since-called Riviera-Gegedo Islands, some three hundred miles due south from Baja California, was the principal result of his voyage. Meanwhile, Becerra, who is described as an arbitrary and disagreeable man, was put to

  death by his crew, and the first pilot, Fortun Jimenez, who had been privy to the murder, now took command. Jimenez proceeded with the voyage and came at length to obey in what he believed to be an island. Here he and his men landed, but presently were set upon by the Indians, who killed Jimenez

  and twenty others. The few who escaped made their way back to Nueva Galicia. There Guzman again showed his hands, seizing the boat with a view to making explorations himself. Jimenez had in fact entered the Bay of La Paz in Baja California, being the first white

  man, so far as is known, ever to have set foot in the Californias. The records are so obscure, however, that it is not certain whether he was there late in 1533 or early in 1534. Though this expedition had ended in almost as great a disaster as that of 1532, it did contribute something towards Spanish projects of northwestward advance.

  Jimenez's men brought back reports about the existence of at least one marvel in the newly discovered land. They told of the wealth of the region in pearls, perhaps even brought some with them since the story accorded with the facts. Here then was one of the islands of pearls which the Spaniards had expected to find,

  and here was a definite and clearly recognizable incentive for a fresh voyage. Cortes was now more eager than ever for the project. He sought to restrain Guzman from making a voyage, and procured a decree of the Audencia requiring Guzman to return the stolen ship. But that body also forbade Cortes to make an expedition.

  Cortes protested that this decision was against his right to make conquests as he chose. When the Audencia did not yield, he resolved to go anyway and to lead the expedition himself. The moment that this announcement got abroad, volunteers began to pour in. Such was Cortes' reputation as a conqueror and a finder of loot. Soon Cortes had more men than he could use, and in the spring of 1535 set sail with three

  vessels. On May 3rd he entered the Bay of La Paz, and named that and the island as he believed the land to be, Santa Cruz, the day on the religious calendar that he had made his appearance there. Cortes at once began to establish a settlement, but he was already face to face with the difficulties white men always have in maintaining themselves in an undeveloped land.

  Supplies were short, so two of the ships were twice sent back for more and for the rest of Cortes' volunteers, many of whom he had been obliged to leave behind. On the second of these voyages, one of the vessels was wrecked and the crew and the colonists returned to Mexico. Cortes and Grijalva now took the remaining two vessels and went to get more supplies.

  On the return to Baja California they encountered yet another of the problems which was for centuries to be an important factor in the history of the Californias. The severe storms, which are so frequent in the Gulf of California, were such at this time that Grijalva was unable to get back at all while Cortes, whose pilot was killed as a result of a fall, was obliged to take the wheel himself in order to make his way

  across the Gulf. Upon his arrival at La Paz he found that twenty-three men had died of starvation. The colony could not be maintained with the one vessel Cortes now had, and the land itself was unable to provide the needs of white men. So Cortes returned to New Spain to see whether he might procure relief.

  Clearly he seems to have given up the idea and perhaps, toward the end of 1536, sent ships to take away the surviving colonists. Clearly the result had been disappointing, though in the light of the conditions as they were, failure was almost inevitable. Cortes might possibly have given up his efforts at this point, but for the happening in 1536

  of a spectacular event. Cortes' enemy Guzmán had been deprived of his post, but Cortes' powers were now also greatly restricted as a result of the appointment of a viceroy of New Spain. Mendoza, the first viceroy, had reached Mexico City in 1535, and henceforth was Cortes' principal rival in the northward conquests.

  The spectacular event referred to was the arrival at Culiacán, Sinaloa, then the farthest north of the Spanish settlements along the Pacific coast, of Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca. Núñez, or Cabeza de Vaca, as he is more often called, had been a member of the ill-fated Narvaez expedition, which had landed in Florida in 1528 and had gone utterly to pieces.

  Núñez made his way westward, and he became a slave of the Indians on an island off the coast of Texas. Eventually he escaped, and wandered across the continent until at length he reached Culiacán. His story would in any event have created great interest, but it became especially significant when he told of the great kingdom of Quivira and the seven cities of Cibola not far beyond

  where he had passed. He himself had not seen them, but he had heard many tales about them. This story gave an extraordinary stimulus to Spanish exploration, especially since it corresponded so exactly with what the Spaniards had long expected to find in the north. As soon as the viceroy was able to get a respite from other pressing affairs, he prepared to

  take advantage of this information. In 1539 he sent Marcos de Niza, a Franciscan friar, to investigate the truth of Núñez's tale. Friar Marcos, accompanied by the negro Estebanico, who had made the same journey with Núñez, and by some Indians, crossed Sonora and Arizona to the vicinity of the Moqui pueblos of New

  Mexico. There, indeed, he saw Cibola, but from a distance, for the Indians had been hostile, and had killed Estebanico. But Cibola, to Friar Marcos' eyes, seemed something very different from what it actually was.

  To him it looked larger than Mexico City, though reputed to be the smallest city of the famous seven. The actual poverty of this Moqui town caused men of a later day to regard Friar Marcos as a liar, or at least as a victim of a wild imagination. The writing of the latter may be true, but surely his report was what many another might

  have made in that credulous age. At any rate, his story caused a tremendous stir in all of New Spain. The viceroy at once got ready the famous expeditions, of which more later, that penetrated to New Mexico and Kansas, one branch of which was the sea expedition of Hernando de Alarcon in 1540 up the Gulf of California.

  It is now time to return to Cortes. Cortes' hopes were revived, if indeed he had ever given them up, by the stories of Núñez, and when he learned that the viceroy was sending out Friar Marcos to get information, he protested vigorously, asserting his own rights to make the conquests in the north. Characteristically, however, he did not wait for a decision upon his claims, but resolved

  to be beforehand in the discoveries. So in July 1539 he sent out three vessels of respectively 120, 35, and 20 tons under the command of Francisco de Ulloa. The smallest ship was soon wrecked, but the others went up the coast to the head of the Gulf and were the first to discover that Santa Cruz, or Baja California, was not an island

  but a peninsula. Returning down the Gulf, Ulloa rounded the peninsula and started up the western coast. He seems to have entered Magdalena Bay and to have gone on to Cerros Island in 28 degrees latitude, at or near which he made a stay of three months. Several attempts were made to go farther north, but the best Ulloa could do was reach a point

  in about 29 degrees, which became known to contemporary mapmakers as the Cabo del Ingaño, or Cape Disappointment. In April 1540 one of the ships was sent back to report, and made the return in safety. Ulloa himself and the 35 ton vessel remained to carry on the expedition, and what became of him is not known.

  No doubt he and his ship, with all on board, were one of the many sacrifices, by wreck or other disaster, in the attempts of the Spaniards to reach the land of gold farther north. Cortes had now contributed greatly to the movements which were to bring about the eventual occupation of the Californias, though his efforts had been a losing venture for himself.

  Furthermore, he had been stripped of much of the authority he had originally possessed, wherefore he sailed to Spain in 1540 to seek redress. This ended Cortes's activities not only in the Californias, but also in New Spain, for he never returned. In 1547 he died.

  Thus passed the first of the great Spanish explorers who endeavored to make their way to the Californias and to penetrate the mysteries of the north. End of chapter 5

• 06 - Origin and Application of the Name California

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  Chapter 6 of A History of California, the Spanish Period. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 6 Origin and Application of the Name California. The excerpt, in Old French, from the Chanson de Rolland, was recorded by Saugne. One of the most prized possessions of present-day Californians is the beautiful and beloved name

  of the state, a name which has a lure that has carried its fame perhaps farther than that of any other state in the Union. During two years' travel in Europe, the writer found that California was generally known, but that few of the other American states could be called by name. In footnote.

  Yet the origin and application of the name were for a long time something of a mystery, and neither one nor the other is fully clear yet. California was not named for a member of the royal family in the homeland of the conquerors, as happened in the case of Virginia for Elizabeth the Virgin Queen, or Carolina for King Charles II, Maryland, Georgia, Louisiana.

  Unlike Massachusetts, Connecticut, Texas, and others too, it was not an Indian word named for an Indian tribe. This being recognized, people for many years, centuries after the name was first applied, indulged in guesses as to both the origin and application for which the evidence seemed to have disappeared.

  Those conjectures are now mere historical curiosities, illustrations in the extreme of the propensity of men to imagine the missing link in a chain of evidence. But as one hears these theories advanced by some even to the present day, it may be worthwhile to notice them. Most frequent among them has been the suggestion of a derivation from two Latin words, calida

  fornax, or hot furnace. Baja California might well have seemed to Cortez and his men as hot as a furnace, it is said, or the name might also have occurred to them in connection with the Indian temescal or sweat-house underground. Similarly, the Catalan word californo, hot oven, has been brought forward.

  Californo, lime and furnace, or lime kilb, provides another guess, though cal is Spanish and forno is Catalan. It is doubtful whether the Indians of Baja California had houses made of mortar in early times, thus making use of lime kilbs, though later they came to have them. Another view was that it sprang from colofon, resin, on the ground that the Spaniards might

  have called out that word when they saw the resinous pine trees and decided to apply it as a name, perhaps as colofonia, gradually corrupting it to California. Another writer suggested cala fornax, based on the Spanish word for cove and the Latin for vault, in that there is an arch under a rock in the bay or cove at one place where Cortes and his men landed in Baja California.

  These are a few theories out of many, all of which were barren guesses, unsustained by a shred of evidence. It may be said that it was not the habit of Spanish explorers to assign Latin names or to mix Spanish with Latin or with Catalan in such a matter. A more likely suggestion was that the Spaniards might have misunderstood some Indian word

  and applied it as a name, but this was a mere guess. To Edward Everett Hale, distinguished divine and man of letters, is due the clearing away of the greater part of the cobwebs surrounding the origin of the name. In 1862 he chanced upon an old Spanish novel entitled Las Cercas de Esplandian, or The Deeds of Esplandian, and found that it referred to a strange and romantic island, California.

  He at once jumped to the conclusion that this must have been the source whence the discoverers procured the name. Other men, before his time, knew of the California of the Cercas, for example, the celebrated historian of Spanish literature, George Ticknor, who refers to the word in a volume that he published in 1849.

  But neither he nor anybody else seems to have thought of its connection with the American state of the same name. Or if they did so, they do not seem to have recorded their impressions. The Cercas de Esplandian was one of those fantastic novels of chivalry which so accurately represented and in turn influenced the minds of Europeans in the period of transition from

  medieval to modern times. It was a sequel to one of the earliest and undoubtedly the greatest of these books, the Amadis de Gaula, the Amadis of Gaul, of the Portuguese Vasco de Lobeira. The Amadis was written at about the opening of the 15th century, or late in the 14th. Lobeira, the author, died in 1403.

  The book had a most extraordinary vogue, being indeed one of the most popular works of all time. It was translated into every important European tongue, and the mighty and heroic Amadis of the novel became almost a household god. It is said that it was unsafe to refer slightingly to Amadis, for some excited admirer might

  take upon himself to avenge this hero of romance. The novel became even more popular, perhaps, after the invention of printing, since its distribution was, of course, very greatly facilitated. Between 1492 and 1504, García Ordóñez de Montalvo completed a translation of the work into Spanish, in four volumes, and attached to it a fifth, written by himself, the Cérigas

  de Esplandión. The original date of publication is not clear, but a copy of the year 1508 exists in the British Museum, and there is a reference to an edition of 1498. There were a number of reissues, for example, in 1519, 1521, 1525, and 1526, years contemporaneous with Cortés's early activities in New Spain.

  In accord with the literary practices of his day, Ordóñez de Montalvo pretended that he was merely translating from the Greek a manuscript of the Gran Maestro Elizabeth, who saw and took part in what he relates. The story hinges on a supposed siege of Constantinople, when all the forces of paganism launched an attack against the emperor and his Christian allies in the city.

  In the midst of the siege, the pagans received unexpected succor from Queen Calafia of the islands California. Here is the story as it appears in the Cérigas. I wish that you should now know of a matter so very strange that neither in writings nor from the memory of people is it possible to discover how, on the following day, the city

  was on the point of being lost, and how, in that moment of peril, it was saved. Know ye that at the right hand of the Indies there is an island named California, very close to that part of the terrestrial paradise which was inhabited by black women, without a single man among them, and that they lived in the manner of Amazons. They were robust a body, with strong and passionate hearts and great virtues.

  The island itself is one of the wildest in the world on account of the bold and craggy rocks. Their weapons were all made of gold. The island everywhere abounds with gold and precious stones, and upon it no other metal was found.

  They lived in caves well excavated. They had many ships with which they sailed to other coasts to make forays, and the men whom they took as prisoners they killed. In this island, named California, there are many griffins. In no other part of the world can they be found.

  And there ruled over that island of California a queen of majestic proportions, more beautiful than all the others, and in the very vigor of her womanhood. She was desirous of accomplishing great deeds. She was valiant and courageous, and ardent with a brave heart, and had ambitions to execute nobler actions than had been performed by any other ruler."

  The upshot was that Calafia, the queen of the island, resolved to lead her women to the war against the Christians. She was excused for this decision on the ground that she did not understand what Christians were. Therefore, she and her best warriors set out in their ships, taking with them five hundred

  griffins which were in the habit of being fed upon the men captured in battle. Arrived at Constantinople, she found the pagan cause was going badly, so she sought permission to make the attack alone with her forces on the following day, adding that the pagans would then see a battle the strangest ever seen and never before dreamed of. The next day the dusky Californians advanced to the fray, and at the proper moment let

  loose the griffins. Thereupon there was great carnage among the Christians, many of whom were seized and eaten by these birds, while others were carried into the air and allowed to fall, being dashed to pieces. The arrows of the Christians and blows of swords and lances were not sufficient to wound

  these thick-feathered tough-bodied creatures of the air. Then Calafia called on the exulting pagans to charge and complete the victory. But here disaster befell for the griffins, quote, not knowing friend from foe seized the Turks in the same manner that they had seized the Christians, and soaring high in the air with them, let them drop to earth, and thus killed every one of them, unquote.

  This turned victory into defeat, and when this was seen by Queen Calafia, she was sad in a grand manner. The griffins were called off, and Calafia and her Amazons made a vigorous attack. Although the Queen performed prodigies of valor, she was unable to take the city. Thereupon Calafia joined with Bradiaro, the Sultan of Fukuya, in a challenge to the old

  hero Amadis de Gaula and to his son Esplandian, great emulator of his father's deeds. A handsome black maiden was sent to the Christian camp and was courteously received. Amadis accepted the challenge and agreed that Calafia and the Sultan might name the weapons. But the envoy had something more than this message to bring back. She declared that all the Christian leaders were very beautiful to look upon, but that

  none of them compared in this respect with the noble Esplandian. Calafia now displayed some very human traits. She yearned to see and talk with Esplandian, and therefore decided to pay a visit herself to the Christian headquarters. All night she puzzled over the momentous question of whether she should go in military attire

  or simply as a woman. The woman entered one and she prepared to array herself in a way to make an impression. Not only did she dress herself in rich robes covered with gold and precious stones, but she also rode a steed which was truly more marvelous than had ever been seen and was calculated to attract notice anywhere.

  Arrived at her destination, she too fell a victim to the charms of the beauteous Esplandian, but maintained sufficient recollection of her purported errand to arrange the terms of the combat. Esplandian did not return her admiration, for he already had a sweetheart in the person of the emperor's daughter, Leonorina, and he was well content.

  In due time the double duel took place. Esplandian betwixt looks at his beloved fiancée, who viewed the affair from a convenient tower, and attention to the fight overcame Radiaro. Meanwhile, Calafia was raining blows on Amadis, but he caught them on his shield or avoided them altogether.

  Amadis was too much of a gentleman to draw his sword against a lady, but he did not disdain to take a broken piece of her own lance and deal her such blows that he knocked her senseless. Presently the queen got up and protested against his trying to conquer her with a club. The battle was resumed and once more did Amadis do telling execution with his lance, and once more Calafia was stunned.

  By this time the Christian hero had contrived to strip the queen of her shield and helmet, and she had also dropped her sword. So Calafia was constrained to yield. There is more to the story, but the rest is of less interest. Calafia became a prisoner of the Christians and was given to Leonorina.

  Thus, she saw much of that lady's fiancée and fell desperately in love with him. Not, however, until he had already married Leonorina did she make him aware of the fact, and then she declared herself to him. Esplandian was now generous in the extreme. He could not marry her himself, so he gave her to his cousin, Talanque, while another

  cousin married Calafia's sister. The marriages took place in Christian form. Calafia and all her Amazons became Christians, the pagans were defeated, and the now pious Calafia gave her island of California, with all its gold and precious stones, to the Christians. And thus did California cease to be a land of Amazons only.

  Several matters in this account are worthy of comment. Much of the story represents the oft-reiterated recording of ancient traditions. The Amazons, Griffons, and the Terrestrial Paradise are of most ancient lineage. The last named was the Garden of Eden of the Old Testament, which medieval and early modern Europeans believed to be definitely and recognizably located on the map.

  Many such things were sought by the early Spanish explorers in the Americas, and it seems probable that the accounts of Columbus are what occasioned the insertion of the tale about Calafia and the Californias in the Syragus. In a report of 1493 about his first voyage, Columbus told of an island on the way to the Indies where women alone lived, being visited occasionally by men from other parts.

  These women were warlike, making use of the bow and arrow. It is hardly necessary to add that Columbus did not see the women, he had merely heard of them. Again, in 1498, when Columbus was sailing along the coast of Venezuela, still laboring under the delusion that he was in Asiatic waters, he believed that he was very near

  the Terrestrial Paradise, and so reported. Other men of the same time told similar stories. The fact that the Calafia tale is not an intrinsic part of the Syragus, but merely thrust in as an extra, renders it all the more likely that the author was influenced by the accounts of Columbus' voyage, which had fired men's imagination with what seemed to be a rediscovery

  of islands and peoples that Europeans had long known traditionally. Incidentally, it may be remarked that even the Griffins were located eventually in America. In 1647, one Basalius published a work in which a description of the western coast of North America was given. In that somewhat terrifying region there were many wild animals, including Griffins, and

  this is not a fable but the truth. Thus did the Griffins return to their homeland of the Syragus, in California. One thing more. It can at least hardly fail to attract attention that the beautiful Calafia and her charming maidens were of suspiciously African descent.

  It would seem that the color line was not very rigidly drawn some four centuries ago, for the author everywhere refers to the lovely Californians in terms of the highest approval, and does not disdain to marry them, in the end, to white princes of the royal blood. The sequel, provided by Ordonez de Montalvo, was by no means the only one to the adventures of Amadis.

  In all, there were fourteen volumes in the series. Calafia and the Californians reappear in Book 7 entitled Lisuarte de Grecia y Perión de Gaula. In that volume, the Siege of Constantinople still rages, but this time Calafia fights on the side of the Christians.

  There were a number of editions of this book, at least one of which appeared as early as 1514. There is hardly room for a doubt that Cortes and his men were familiar with the story of the island California. All Europe had nearly gone mad over the romances of chivalry, and the Spaniards in particular

  were looking for the same wonderful experiences in the Americas as the wandering knights were wont to have in the realm of fancy. There are references in the work by Bernal Díaz, one of the historians of the conquest of New Spain, to incidents of the Amadis de Gaula. For example, in telling of the towns that he and the other soldiers of Cortes saw, he

  said, We were amazed and said it was like the enchantments they tell of in the legend of Amadis. Also, one of the soldiers was nicknamed Agrayas because he was supposed to resemble a character of that name in Amadis de Gaula. Since Cisergas, the Esplandian, was attached to the Amadis, it could hardly have escaped

  notice, besides which it was popular on its own account, though much inferior to Lobaira's work. It is interesting to note Cervantes's opinion of it in the Don Quixote. When the curate and the barber were overhauling the library of Don Quixote in order to destroy the books which had so shaken their friend's mind, they came across the Amadis and the

  Esplandian. The former was saved as the best of its kind, but the latter was the first to go to the bonfire. Verily, said the curate, the goodness of the father shall not avail the son. Granted that the name was suggested to the discoverers of the Californias from the romance

  of the Cergas de Esplandian, the question arises, where did Ordonez de Montalvo get it? There have been many guesses on this point, similar to those formerly made about the origin of the word in the minds of the conquerors. One of these is that the author derived it from the Greek ὀλος or ὀλί and ὀρνος,

  the two together meaning beautiful bird for the griffins. Another surmises a derivation from the Arabic word caliphate, meaning province. In Spanish it is said, this might have become calafón for a large province due to the presence of the argumentative ὀν, from which it would be but a step to California or California. To be sure, Ordonez de Montalvo might have invented the name, and if he did, it would

  be profitless to guess just how it might have occurred to him. But there is a strong reason for believing that he followed a literary precedent in his use of the word. The chanson de Roland, the famous epic poem of the French, believed to have been composed late in the 11th century or possibly later, there occur the following lines.

  This may be translated roughly as follows, Quote, Dead is my nephew who conquered so many lands, And now the Saxons rebel against me, And the Hungarians, Bulgarians, and many others, The Romans, the Pulane, And those of Palermo, Sicily, And those of Africa, And those of Califerna.

  It is to be noted that here is a catalogue of enemy nations in a list which begins with those in the north and works to the south and east. The learned commentators on the chanson have never been able to explain the califerna, but gave their opinion that it stands probably for the caliph's domain. There can be no question but that a learned man like Ordonez de Montalvo was familiar

  with the chanson de Roland, especially since it was cognate to the material that he himself employed. Certainly, the cycle of tales about the Knights of the Round Table at the court of King Arthur was very well known to Ordonez and the other romancers, for the heroes of those stories appear frequently in the novels of chivalry. The appearance of califerna in this list of peoples and lands, of which several were certainly

  not Christian, might well have caught Ordonez's attention when he himself was making a similar catalogue of the nations. California is a perfectly natural Spanish form for califerna, especially since E and O have not infrequently changed from one to the other in the history of Spanish words. This derivation of the word California can perhaps never be proved, but it is too plausible

  and it may be added too interesting to be overlooked. Thus does the name California become linked with one of the greatest poems in history, and the date of its origin is placed four centuries earlier. One wonders, indeed, if there might not have been some long-past Muslim realm, so-called, at least by the peoples of Europe, carrying the name far back to the great days of Baghdad

  and Damascus. The story of the application of the name to the Californias may someday be revealed in the archives of Spain, but it is at present shrouded in more mystery than is the origin of the word. In Cortes's so-called Fourth Letter to the King, dated October 15, 1524, he has a paragraph

  about an expedition by one of his lieutenants in which there is the following story, quote, He likewise brought me in account to the chiefs of the province of Seguitan, who affirm that there is an island inhabited only by women without any men, and that at given times men from the mainland visit them. If they conceive, they keep the female children to which they give birth, but the males they

  throw away. This island is ten days' journey from the province, and many of them went thither and saw it, and told me also that it is very rich in pearls and gold." Six years later, Cortes's great enemy Guzmán, who was in the midst of his conquest of Nueva Galicia, made virtually the same report.

  A portion of his letter to the King of Spain, dated July 8, 1530, reads, according to the translation in the Pilgrimist of Senual Purchase, as follows, quote, From thence, Astatlan, ten days' further I shall go to find the Amazons, which some say dwell in the sea, some in an arm of the sea, and that they are rich and accounted of the people for goddesses and whiter than the other women.

  They use bows, arrows, and targets, have many in great towns. At a certain time they admit them, i.e. the men, to accompany them, which bring up the males as these females issue, end quote. These documents show that the Spaniards were expecting to find just such an island as the California of romance.

  When Fortun Jiménez, on behalf of Cortes, reached Baja California in 1533 to 1534, he believed it to be an island. But he also found many other islands in the vicinity, and most important of all, found pearls. Jiménez must have applied names to the lands he found, but the disaster which befell his

  expedition precluded the saving of any records of the voyage. When Cortes himself landed at La Paz in Baja California, he named the site and also the bay Santa Cruz. Clearly, if he knew the name applied by Jiménez, he did not retain it. Furthermore, he would not have been inclined to honor the names given by Jiménez, for

  that worthy had murdered Becerra, Cortes's own kinsman and the leader he had designated for the voyage. It is said, too, that Cortes never himself employed the name California in reference to the land which had been discovered under his auspices. Many writers who dealt with Cortes's expedition of 1535, for example Gomorrah, Bernal Díaz,

  and Herrera, referred to the land as California. But their works were published a number of years after the name had become definitely fixed. A map of 1541 purporting to illustrate Cortes's activities in the Pacific has the word California on it, but this is believed to have been added late in the 18th century by Archbishop of

  Mexico Lorenzana, who was getting out an edition of Cortes's letters. On the Olloa expedition of 1539 to 1540, diaries were kept by Pedro de Palencia and Francisco Preciado. The diary of the former in the original Spanish is extant, but that of Preciado is at present known only in translation.

  The name California does not appear in Palencia's diary, but in the Italian version of Preciado's, presented in the works of Giovanni Ramusio between 1550 and 1556, it occurs three times. One of these entries reads, We found ourselves 54 leagues distant from California. Much the same statement appears in Palencia, but the place is called Santa Cruz, thus identifying

  California with a place where Jimenez and Cortes had landed. It has been argued that Ramusio, whose translation appeared after the name had been definitely applied, might have taken liberties with Preciado's original, just as Richard Hacklute later took liberties with the account in Ramusio. This is of course a possibility, but it cannot be asserted with confidence any more than

  the probability of its being an accurate rendering can be. In 1542, the name definitely appears in the Spanish journal of Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, the first European navigator to reach the coast of Alta California. It is mentioned casually as of a name already well known. There is no direct evidence associating the name California with Ordóñez's romance,

  but the circumstantial evidence is so strong that the connection has been generally accepted since Edward Everett Hale first advanced the idea. Granted that the story in the sagas accounted for the name, the further question arises, who applied it and when? In the opinion of the writer, the name was applied by Jimenez on the occasion of his

  discovery of the peninsula in 1533-1534. The failure of Cortes to use the name, owing to his attitude toward the murderer of his husband, has already been explained. This would also make clear why those in his immediate service would avoid the name for fear of the displeasure of the old conquistador, and especially does it account for the probable

  differences on this point in the Palencia and Preciado diaries. Palencia was the personal representative of Cortes on a yaw's voyage, an official diarist, addressing his journal to Cortes. He would therefore be more likely to employ Santa Cruz than the prescribed word California. Preciado's position on the yaw voyage is not clear, but it would seem that he was not

  in the same official category as Palencia. Furthermore, he left the ship before the end of the voyage. The inference is a natural one that he would have been more free than Palencia to use the name current among the men. O Preciado's diary identifies California with the bay and port of La Paz.

  There are many indications that the name was applied originally to many islands which were called collectively the Californias. Thus, Richard Hacklute, though of course many years after the discovery, in commenting on certain portions of the story of Marcos de Niza, speaks of a great island and thirty small islands which seem to be the new islands of California, rich in pearls, and again of

  great pearls and much gold in the isles of California, which are thirty-four in number. It would seem, therefore, that the term Californias, which for centuries was much more current than the use of the word in the singular, was intended for the numerous and actually existing Pearl Islands of the Gulf, one of which might contain the long-sought Amazons, though nobody had seen them.

  In later years the word was retained as a normal plural for the eventual two Californias, Alta and Baja. There is one other theory concerning the application of the name which is advanced by such high authority and yet is so contrary to the spirit of Spanish nomenclature that it cannot be passed over in silence.

  Bancroft and Miss Putnam suggest that the name might have been applied in derision because it was so unlike the Californias of romance. Bancroft suggests that this might have been given in 1536 by the colonists who were abandoning the peninsula, while Miss Putnam postpones the naming until the voyage of Alarcon in 1540.

  Miss Putnam points out that Alarcon was disposed to belittle the achievements of Cortes because Alarcon was then in the service of Cortes' rival, the viceroy. According to Miss Putnam, Alarcon, or one of his followers, might have said, There is the wonderful island the Marquis sought, there, as the Rome answers, California. And the name stuck.

  It seems so real to Miss Putnam that she can almost hear the sneer at the end of the Ia, despite the fact that Alarcon sailed up the gulf and back again on the mainland coast and not along Baja California, wherefore he at no time came within sight of those parts of the peninsula reached by Cortes. In any event, the application of the name California, because the land seemed so unlike

  the California of the Sergas, was both inconsistent with Spanish usage and with the facts as they believed them to be. If the point of view taken in this chapter is correct, the name was applied before the Spaniards had any clear knowledge of the country, and thus represented their beliefs and hopes rather than disappointment.

  Indeed, it was not for many years after the voyages of Ulloa and Alarcon that the desolate character of the peninsula became known. In the second place, it is certain not only that the Spaniards had high hopes about the wealth of California's, hopes which seemed confirmed when the pearls were found there, but also that they were not disappointed.

  As Mrs. Sanchez has said, they were not looking for green trees in babbling brooks, but for the yellow gold, and none knew better than they that the precious metal was more often found in such bare desolate lands than in any other. Thousands of documents. The writer himself has seen hundreds attest the truth of this statement as concerns Spanish

  ideas about the wealth of the Californias, even at the peninsula. This view was held continuously by the Spaniards down to the close of the 18th century. And even when they did not find riches, they always expected to come upon them a little farther on. Finally, the Spaniards never seemed to have employed the style of mockery suggested in

  giving place names. Instead, the practice of characterizing a place by a name which implies the very opposite is of a piece with a certain kind of latter-day American humor and totally foreign to Spanish habits. On the contrary, the Spaniards very frequently expressed their real views in their names,

  with complete directness, for example in such terms as the tiresome hills, Cape Deceit, Valley of Hunger, and Valley of Get Out If You Can. Indeed, says Mrs. Sanchez, referring to the conjecture that the name was applied in derision, quote, not a single fact or argument has yet been advanced in support of such a humiliating theory, and there is little doubt that our noble state received its charming name not

  in mockery, but rather in hopeful anticipation, almost in the spirit of prophecy of the riches and wonders to be found there, unquote. And indeed, California, in one part of its vast extension, was eventually to prove itself, both literally and metaphorically, as the land of gold. Footnote 2.

  The following works, in addition to the general histories, were used in the preparation of this chapter. 1. Chapman Charles Edward, New Light on the Origin of the Name California, Los Angeles, March 1916, in Grizzly Bear Magazine.

  2. Davidson George, The Origin and Meaning of the Name California, San Francisco, 1910, in Geographical Society of the Pacific Transactions and Proceedings. 3. Putnam, Ruth, with collaboration of Herbert Ingram Priestley, California, The Name, Berkeley,

  California, 1917, in University of California, Publications and History. 4. Sanchez Nellie van de Grift, The Name of Our Beloved California, Was it Given in Derision? Los Angeles, April 1916, in Grizzly Bear Magazine. 5.

  Sanchez Nellie van de Grift, Spanish and Indian Place Names of California, San Francisco, 1914. End of footnote. End of chapter 6.

• 07 - The Northern Mystery and the Discovery of Alta California

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  CHAPTER VII. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. CHAPTER VII. THE NORTHERN MYSTERY AND THE DISCOVERY OF ALTA CALIFORNIA. A little farther north, there was the location of those things which, according to present-day conceptions, were so mysterious and wonderful, though to the Spaniards the mystery was mainly in that their exact location continued to escape them. Still, the searches in the north that were

  most productive of romancing were with a view to the discovery of something not at all marvelous in itself, and which in fact existed, though to be sure in a less agreeable form than was to be desired, a waterway around or through the continent of North America. Some indication has already been given about the origin of the theory of the strait, and of the attempts to find it at Panama, and then ever and ever more to northward. As early as 1541, Francisco Vázquez de Coronado had carried

  the strait at least as far north as Kansas, and in 1543 Bartolomé Ferrelo sailed along the Pacific coast to about the present northern boundary of California, while swarms of European navigators from many countries ranged up and down the Atlantic coast. But it must be remembered that there were scores of others who said that they had been yet farther, even to the strait itself, for almost that far, and there was hardly a man but knew, or had heard of, somebody who had been

  through the strait. The Indians, too, from a spirit of childlike exaggeration, or because the white men did not clearly understand them, or indeed because their own information was rather vague, repeatedly confirmed conjectures as to its existence. Inevitably, the strait was surrounded with a glamour which introduced wealthy kingdoms and rich cities along its banks, all the wonderful things that men had expected to find elsewhere. Thus it was that fiction

  became fact in its influence upon actual explorations. But for this influence, says Bancroft, it may almost be doubted that Spanish occupation at the end of the 17th or even the 18th century would have extended above Colima on the Pacific and Penocho on the Atlantic side. Since men did not clearly know what was real and what was not, they went farther and farther afield to penetrate the northern mystery, and in particular to discover the secret of the strait.

  The search for the strait on the Atlantic side, from Darien to Hudson Bay, does not need to be told here. Eventually it narrowed down to seeking of the northwest passage. The names of Hudson, Baffin, Davis, and James have been perpetuated on the map as a result of their search for the elusive strait. Meanwhile, a ceaseless campaign of discovery was being undertaken from the Pacific side, but here the seekers were almost all of them in the Spanish service, and the waterway became

  known as the Strait of Añon. It is to be borne in mind, too, that the idea of the existence of a practicable way of communication between the two oceans was not given up until the last decade of the 18th century, after 300 years of effort. Over a century later, a boat did sail by way of the northwest passage, or strait of Añon, around North America from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Roald Amundsen was a skipper, and his little craft, the guilloa, now rests high and dry on the

  Cliffhout's beach by San Francisco, with its prowl looking out to sea. The governing authorities of Spain would have preferred to believe that there was no strait, since its existence would be to that country's disadvantage, furnishing a route to rival nations or to free-booters whence they might attack the rich kingdoms of New Spain. But if there were such a strait, Spain wished to be the first to find it, so as to fortify it and prohibit its use by others. For three centuries,

  the fear of foreign attack by way of the strait, or by way of some unknown great river connected possibly with the Great Lakes, was one of the leading factors in inducing Spain to make preventative conquests in the north, and especially this was true as affecting the Spanish advance toward and into the Californias. The story of the search for the strait of Añon is one of the most fascinating tales in the annals of the New World. One way to trace it is through the medium of

  cartography, which is one of the most enlightening sources for an understanding of European notions in general about the Americas. Some idea has already been given of the progress of geographical thought. Of the early theories based on the belief that North America was Asia, and that the strait was in the vicinity of Panama, followed by the conjecture that North America was a southeastward projection from Asia, but with a continuance of belief in the possibility of the strait.

  As time went on, the idea of the strait returned with new intensity. This was in part due to actual discoveries, such as those of the great inlets of the Atlantic coast, in part to the false or exaggerated stories that were told, and in part to a survival of old ideas. An example of the last named influence was the persistence of the legend of Atlantis, the island continent which the ancients said had disappeared beneath the sea. With a gradual elimination of the North America as Asia idea,

  men wondered whether they might not have found a long lost continent, and if that were the case, there had to be a strait or passage around it since Atlantis was an island. All of these changes in belief found record in the maps. For example, the earliest known map of America, that made by Juan de la Cosa in 1500, indicated the possibility of a strait in Central America, though with due regard to the reputed position of what we now call the Strait of Malacca,

  he placed it below the equator. Rouch's map of 1508 had South America as the New World, widely separated by sea, though indicated as uncertain, from the West Indies and Asia, which was in the position that North America actually occupies. Scherner, in 1520, had a small North America called Cuba, a strait in Central America, and a channel separating it on the west from the nearby island of Japan. In 1530 addition of the works of Ptolemy, a Greek

  geographer of the second century, North America was larger, was included as part of the New World, and had no strait, but did not extend far to the north, leaving a passage around it. Japan and Asia were only a few miles to the west. Orontius Fine, in 1531, reverted to the original idea that North America was Asia, and South America a south-eastward extension from it, with no strait except the one discovered by Magellan. The Minster map of 1545 is similar

  to the above-named map of 1530, but North America extended farther north, and was separated by a strait from Asia and a gigantic Iceland of about the same size as North America, and these two in turn were separated from each other by a strait. The first map, showing North America approximately as it is, was issued by Ramusio in 1556. About the only strange feature was the appearance of the mythical Cuvira in Alta California. Blanks were left for the regions beyond which actual discoveries

  had been made. Homem, in 1558, had a narrow North America running from southwest to northeast, paralleling the line of the Atlantic coast. Homem had a number of straits, the most prominent of which was by way of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The great Ortelius, in 1574, issued a map which, like that of Ramusio, was substantially correct, showing the strait past the kingdom of Anean at about the point where Bering Strait, in fact, enters the Arctic Ocean. Wild geography was by

  no means dead, however. For example, Locke's map of 1582 showed an open sea above North America, which extended to about 45 degrees in the extreme northwest and to about 63 degrees in the northeast, at which point the strait appeared. Incidentally, the kingdom of Cuvira again found lodging in Alta California. Even to the close of the 18th century, there was a strange mixture of the real with the fabulous. De la Isle's map of 1752 was substantially accurate as far north as Cape Mendocino,

  but just above that, there was a great inland reaching western sea, and beyond that, at about 50 degrees, a strait went through to Hudson Bay. In 1778, the American traveler, Jonathan Carver, indicated a river which had its sources near those of the Missouri and emptied into the Pacific. And as late as 1782, there was the Hanvier map showing an enormous sea of the west with communication by rivers with the waterways of the east. Incidentally, these maps

  showed where mermaids were to be found and Amazon Islands and other strange things. Footnote one. For a proper understanding of this subject, one needs to study the maps. See Bancroft Hubert Howe, History of the Northwest Coast, San Francisco 1886. Of still greater importance for the investigator is the Ruth Putnam collection of maps in the Bancroft Library of the University of California. In footnote. The records are also teeming with memorials about the strait.

  There is one account by Menéndez de Aviles, the Spanish conqueror of Florida. According to Menéndez, he met a man in 1554 who said he went through the strait from the Atlantic to the Pacific on a French vessel. The vessel was wrecked on the return voyage and the narrator of the story alone escaped. A certain Fernández de Ladrillero made a sworn statement that he had been on a voyage many years before that got near the strait on the Northwest Coast, but storms and

  damage to the ships had forced a return. He also knew an Englishman who had entered the strait while fishing for cod. Undoubtedly, Fernández told the truth as he saw it. It would seem that he was on the Ulloa voyage and that the Englishman had entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Drake, who was in Alta California in 1579, was believed by many Spaniards to have returned to England through the strait, and their view was confirmed several years later by a foreign pilot named Morena

  who told his story to a governor of New Mexico. Morena said that Drake had put him ashore in the vicinity of the strait while he was sick. Recovering his health, he had then wandered about for four years and, at length, came to an arm of the sea dividing New Mexico from a great western land. This body of water extended northward, he believed, to the strait, and its banks had many large settlements, including a nation of white people. This sounded similar

  to the great western river of which Espejo had heard during his expedition of 1581 to 1583, for that, too, was rumored to have rich towns on its banks. But Espejo's river was real, the Colorado, and the rich towns were the Pueblos of the Moquis, which to Espejo's Indian informants seemed remarkably wealthy. When John Smith was captured by the Indians in 1607, on the occasion when Pocahontas intervened to save him, he was exploring the Chicahome

  River for a passage to the Pacific. Father Marquette heard in 1673 that from .5 or 6 days up the Missouri there was a stream which went to the Gulf of California, and he hoped to make the discovery. One of the most remarkable stories was that of Diego de Peñalosa, an ex-governor of New Mexico. He said that in 1662 he made an expedition far to the northeast of Santa Fe, and came to the city of Quivira. After marching for two leagues through part of Quivira,

  Peñalosa sent out an exploring party which was unable to get to the end of the city. The natives said that there were other provinces further on, which were so rich that even their ordinary dishes were made of gold and silver. Moreover, this land was along the sea where ships might reach it easily. Three voyages stand out from the rest as the most important among those that were never made, the so-called fictitious or apocryphal voyages of Juan de Fuca, Maldonado,

  and Fonte. In 1596 Fuca told the Englishman Locke that he had been in command of a Spanish voyage of 1592 up the Pacific coast in search of the strait. He had found the strait beyond 47 degrees and sailed through it, after which he returned to Acapulco. The Maldonado voyage was supposed to have been made in 1588, but the story was first told in 1609. According to Maldonado, he had entered the strait off the coast of Labrador, coming out in the polar sea and then passing

  through another strait in 60 degrees into the Pacific Ocean. Fonte, as supposed to have made his voyage in 1640, though both Fonte and the story were invented in 1708. Fonte made his voyage from the Pacific side and entered a river at 53 degrees. Eventually he met a Boston ship coming from Massachusetts, and this proved the existence of the strait. These reputed voyages are entirely discredited now, but they had a tremendous influence on explorations. The Spaniards,

  under whose auspices they were supposed to have been made, never believed in these voyages, for their records contained nothing about them, but the French and the English did credit them, down to the close of the 18th century. They thought the Spaniards had discovered the strait, and wished themselves to share in its advantages. It is often said that the Spaniards lost interest in the northern mystery, but there is a continuous documentary record, at least as late as 1776,

  showing that they gave attention to the strait, or river of the west, and persisted in their search, in fear that the English or French had already discovered such a passage, or that they might be on the point of doing so. Indeed, one of the primary objects of an official Spanish voyage of 1791 was to settle, once and for all, the question of the strait. Incidentally, the fame of at least one fictitious voyager, Juan de Fuca, has been recognized by posterity in the

  application of his name to the strait that enters Puget Sound, and also to a cigar. It is probable that the mountain peaks of Alta California may have been seen by some of the early Spanish expeditions to the Colorado, which thus may have a certain claim for the discovery of the land. Ulloa went to the head of the Gulf of California in 1539. In 1540, Hernando de Alarcon duplicated this achievement, and ascended the Colorado for a number of miles in small boats. In the same year,

  Mil Cordillas, in command of a branch of the Vasquez de Coronado expedition, marched overland to the Colorado, with a view to cooperating with Alarcon. Both of these men, it would seem, did not get as far north as the Gila, wherefore it is likely that they did not actually reach Alta California soil. The direct cause of the first expedition which is known to have set foot in Alta California was the search for the strait of Añon. Beyond Ulloa's farthest north, there

  remained an untried course, which the viceroy Mendoza resolved to exploit, in the hope that he would find the much-desired strait, and thus provide an all-Spanish direct route from Spain to the East Indies. In command was a certain Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, a Portuguese by birth and a skilled mariner. The chief pilot and eventual leader of the expedition, after the commander's death, was Bartolomé Ferraro, described as a native of the Levant. On June 27, 1542, Rodriguez,

  or as he has always though improperly been called, Cabrillo, set sail from Navidad on the west coast of New Spain, with his own and another ship under his command. The vessels were smaller than any of our coasting schooners, wrote George Davidson. They were poorly built and very badly outfitted. Their anchors and ironwork were carried by men from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific. They were manned by conscripts and natives, were badly provisioned,

  and had the crews subject to that deadly scourge of the sea, scurvy. Arrived at the mouth of the Gulf of California, that body of water was found to be in its all-too-customary state, and it took four days to cross over. Thereafter, Rodriguez proceeded leisurely up the western coast of the peninsula, stopping frequently. While at San Quentin, a little above the 30th parallel, he was informed by the Indians that there were white men farther

  east. On four other occasions at San Diego, Catalina Islands, San Pedro, and Ventura, the Indians told the same story. It is probable that the word had been passed on from tribe to tribe of the Vasquez de Coronado expedition or its offshoots toward the Colorado. At last, on Thursday, September 28, 1542, after three months of voyaging, Rodriguez and his men discovered a port closed and very good which they named San Miguel. They were in fact at San Diego,

  and had achieved for themselves the glory of discovering Alta California, all unwittingly, for to them it was the same land as before. That same day they entered the port and went ashore. The Indians were greatly terrified and in the night fired arrows at some of the Spaniards who were fishing, wounding three of them. It appears that their fear was inspired by accounts they had received of the Spaniards in the east, who had been reported as killing many natives.

  But here, as elsewhere, Rodriguez made gifts to the Indians and gave them no occasion for terror or resentment. After a stay of six days at San Diego, the fleet put out to sea again, and took four days to reach Catalina Island, where Rodriguez arrived on October 7. Next day, he stopped at San Pedro, proceeding on the following day to Santa Monica. On the 10th, the fleet reached Ventura, where the Indians came out to meet them in large canoes,

  each of which held 12 or 13 men. For the fifth time, the Spaniards were told of men like themselves to the east, and heard also that there was a great river, which may have kindled hopes respecting the chief object of their voyage. Friday the 13th had no terrors for them, for on that day, they resumed the voyage going up the Santa Barbara Channel and anchoring on successive days at Rincon, Carpinteria, for five miles west of Point Goleta, Refugio, ten miles farther on,

  Gaviota Pass, and Point Concepcion, which they reached on October 18th, this being the farthest north than any landing was made. Here they encountered a strong northwest wind. They stood out to sea to southward, and soon made port at Cuellars Harbor at the island of San Miguel. Rodriguez remained here for a week, in the course of which he had a fall, breaking his arm near the shoulder. Nevertheless, he gave orders to continue the voyage. For a month now, from October 25th to

  November 23rd, the expedition encountered storms. Rodriguez and his men seemed to have rounded Point Concepcion, and at one time tried, quote, to approach the mainland in search of a large river which they had heard was on the other side of Cape Galera, or Point Concepcion, and because on the land there were signs of rivers. But they found none. Neither did they anchor here, because the coast was very bold, unquote. Forced back by the storm, they returned to the Gaviota Pass anchorage

  for a stay of five days. Putting out again on November 6th, they took several days to reach and get around the point, but were then driven to sea by a storm and did not make land again for eight days. So great was the swell of the ocean that it was terrifying to see, says the chronicler of the voyage who was on the flagship, adding later that those on the other ship had experienced greater labor and risk than those of the captain's ship, since it was a small vessel and had no deck.

  For four days, the two ships lost sight of each other. On the 14th, those on the flagship sighted land at Northwest Cape in 38 degrees 31 minutes near Fort Ross, having passed without seeing them, such important parts of the coast as the Bay of Monterey, the Golden Gate, and the Bay of San Francisco and Drake's Bay. The storm which had driven them north shifted to another quarter and compelled them to run south. On the 16th, they discovered Drake's Bay, but were unable to go ashore,

  though they remained in that vicinity until November 18th. It was on the last named day they came nearest to discovering the Bay of San Francisco, which they seem to have passed. The entry in the journal for that day is as follows. When sailing along near the land, it seems as if the mountains would fall upon the ships. They are covered with snow to the summit, and they name them the Sierras Navadas, snowy mountains.

  At the beginning of them, a cape is formed which projects into the sea, in which they name Cape Nieve, Cape Snow. The two places named were regarded by Davidson as the Santa Cruz Mountains and Black Mountain, but, since few riders have been able to agree as to the precise route of the voyage, one wonders if the storm-tossed navigators might actually have seen the Golden Gate, mistaking one headland at its entrance for a point running into

  the sea. At any rate, the vessels seem to have followed the coast this day and not to have been troubled by fog. Several days later, on November 23rd, they entered Cuyler's Harbor again, glad, no doubt, of the opportunity that port afforded them for a respite from their experiences. They had found no shelter at all in their voyage beyond Point Conception, the journalist records, for the coast was bold and rugged and they had met with strong winds and a heavy sea.

  The weather was now so continuously bad that a stay of nearly three months was made on the islands of the Santa Barbara Channel, mostly at San Miguel. On January 3rd, 1543, while they were still at this island, Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo died as a direct result to the broken arm he had suffered there several months before. Undoubtedly, the exposure to which he had been subjected in the difficult voyage of November had been more than he could stand. Courageous to the end, he charged his men

  with his dying words to carry on the voyage and explore as much as possible of that coast. In every way it would seem this man, the earliest of Alta California's heroes, is worthy of the respect of posterity. Martín Fernández Navarrete, a distinguished Spanish historian, has this to say of Rodriguez's achievement, quote, Those who know the coast which Rodriguez Cabrillo discovered and explored, the kind of vessels in which he undertook the expedition, the rigorous season

  during which he pursued his voyage in those intemperate climbs, and the state of the science of navigation at that period, cannot help admiring a courage and intrepidity which, though common among seafaring Spaniards at that time, cannot be appreciated in our day when the navigator is fairly dazzled by the assistance furnished him through the wonderful progress of the arts and sciences, rendering his operations easier and supplying him with advantages which, as they were

  lacking to the early discoverers, make their courage and perseverance as portentous as their discoveries, end quote. If it was difficult in Fernández's day to appreciate the problems that confronted the navigators of Rodriguez's time, how much more lacking in a conception of the dangers they had to face must people of this day be, for the Fernández account was published in 1802 when nautical science was much less advanced than it has since become. In honor of their dead

  commander, his companions changed the name of the island where he died from Posesión, which they had called it before, to the island of Juan Rodríguez. Neither the name nor the full mead of that pilot's glory has, however, been preserved to him. Bartolomé Ferrello now took command and on February 18th, after some preliminary cruisings of little moment, resumed the voyage. Going out to sea, before a rounding point conception, he did not approach the coast until

  he had reached Northwest Cape, at Rodriguez's farthest north. Proceeding under great difficulties, with but little opportunity to view the coast, Ferrello is believed to have passed beyond what is now the northern boundary of California to about opposite the Rogue River in Oregon, in latitude 42 degrees 30 minutes. The account of the voyage that day, March 1, 1543, makes it perfectly clear why Ferrello then turned back. Quote, They ran this night, February 28th, to the

  west-northwest, with great difficulty and on Thursday, March 1st, in the morning, the wind shifted to the southwest with great fury, the seas coming from many directions, causing them great fatigue in breaking over the ships, and as they had no decks, if God had not suckered them, they could not have escaped. Not being able to lay to, they were forced to scud northeast toward the land, and now, thinking themselves lost, they commended themselves to Our Lady of Guadalupe

  and made their vows. Thus they ran until three o'clock in the afternoon, with great fear and travail, because they concluded that they were about to be lost, for they saw many signs that the land was nearby, both birds and very green trees which came from some rivers, although, because the weather was very dark and cloudy, the land was invisible. At this hour, the mother of God suckered them by the grace of her son, for a very heavy rainstorm came up from the north,

  which drove them south with foresails lowered all night and until sunset the next day, and as there was a high sea from the south, it broke every time over the prowl and swept over them as over a rock. The wind shifted to the northwest and to the north-northwest with a great fury, forcing them to scud to the southeast and the east-southeast until Saturday, the 3rd of March, with a sea so high that they became crazed, and if God and his blessed mother had not miraculously saved them,

  they could not have escaped. With respect to food, they also suffered hardship, because they had nothing but damaged biscuit." Yet the diarist records that they believe there was a very large river in the vicinity of their farthest north. They did not wholly forget their quest for the passage through the continent, though the storm did not permit them to stop for a search.

  Meanwhile, their troubles were not over. On March 4th, the flagship lost sight of the consort, and when days mounted into weeks without news of her, she was believed to have been lost. Arrived at the island of Juan Rodriguez on March 5th, Farello was unable to enter the port, so terrible was the storm, but soon found shelter behind Santa Cruz Island.

  Going southward now, Farello stopped at Ventura, Catalina Island, and San Diego in Alta California, making futile inquiries for the lost ship. He does not seem to have been so careful to please the Indians as Rodriguez had been, for there is no further mention of the giving of presents, and at Ventura, Farello secured four Indians, and at San Diego secured two boys to take to New Spain as interpreters. On March 17th, he left San Diego, and went successively to the bay of

  Todos Santos, San Quentin, and Cerros Island in Baja California. On March 26th, while they were at that island, the consort came out of the sea to the great rejoicing of all. It had been missing for three weeks, as told in the journal, quote, They thought they would be lost, but the sailors promised Our Lady to make a pilgrimage to her church naked, and she saved them, end quote. Supplies were now too low to permit their resuming the exploration, so they returned

  to the port of origin, Navidad, arriving there on April 14th, 1543. How many returned of those who had in the first place set out from there, the journal did not say. The Rodriguez-Farello expedition had not discovered the strait, nor any wealthy kingdom of Cavira, wherefore in some senses it had been a failure. It had, however, made known some 800 miles more of coast and its trend northwestward toward Asia. The strait had therefore been very appreciably pushed to the north

  and farther away from New Spain. This might well have been considered a satisfactory achievement by the Viceroy Mendoza. To Californians, however, it is enough that Rodriguez and Farello have given them a noble tradition, a discovery of Alta California under conditions requiring a courage and tenacity that seemed to have been almost superhuman. Footnote. The principal item used, together with the general histories, in the preparation of this chapter was

  the following. Spanish Exploration in the Southwest, 1542 to 1706. Translated and edited by Herbert Eugene Bolton, New York, 1916, in Original Narratives of Early American History series. End of chapter seven.

• 08 - The Manila Galleon

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  VIII. The Manila Galleon. In the same year that Juan Rodriguez was ordered to the north on the voyage that resulted in the discovery of Alta California, the Viceroy Mendoza sent via Loos with a fleet across the Pacific to the San Lazaro Islands, where Magellan and other Spanish navigators had touched before. Arrived at these islands in 1542, Villalobos rechristened them Filipinas

  in honor of the Prince of Asturias, the later Philip II of Spain. Thus did the Philippines, as we call them, acquire their name. These islands, many thousand miles across the sea, were destined to be, during some two centuries, more closely attached to the history of Alta California than almost any other land on earth. This was due to the sailings of the Manila Galleon, which for 250 years went annually down the coast on its long voyage from Manila

  in the Philippines to Acapulco in New Spain. The history of this service dates from the year 1565. Magellan, Loeasa, Saavedra, Grijalva, and Villalobos had previously headed expeditions which crossed the Pacific from east to west, but no ship had yet succeeded in the attempt to make a return voyage. In 1559, Philip II gave orders that a fleet should be sent to effect a conquest of the Philippines, and to find a sailing route across the Pacific

  from Asia to the Americas. He also commanded a certain Father Andres de Urdaneta to accompany the expeditions, ostensibly as chaplain, but really in order to have full charge of the sailing. Strange as it may seem that he gave such a post to a man of the religious profession, the science of navigation was perhaps much more within Urdaneta's ken than the tenets of his faith. Born in 1498, he had for many years been a sailor of experience, had voyaged

  around the world, and was better acquainted with the Pacific waters than any of the king's subjects. Late in life he had taken religious vows, but he was too valuable a sailor to be spared. Four ships, ranging in size from 500 to 40 tons, and about 400 men were gathered together for the voyage, and instructions were given. Go to the Philippines and the adjacent islands, discover the return route to New Spain with all possible speed, and

  bring back spices and other valuable commodities. Thus ran the instructions. Furthermore, a portion of this meager force, under Miguel Gomez de la Gaspi, was ordered to effect the conquest of a group of islands containing millions of natives. The start was made from Navidad in New Spain on November 21, 1564. Urdaneta ran south to about 10 degrees north of the equator, and then sailed due west to Guam, over which today

  the American flag is raised. On February 13, 1565, the expedition reached the Philippines after a voyage of less than three months, in quicker time than Juan Rodriguez had taken to go from the same port of Navidad to San Diego in Alta California. Indeed, the route westward across the Pacific offered comparatively few problems to the navigator. An establishment was made on the island of Cebu, whence the Spaniards proceeded to the

  west to the group. It was from Cebu that Urdaneta started back, and indeed it was not until 1571 that the Philippine galleons sailed from Manila, for it was in that year that the conquest reached the site which thenceforth served as the capital and metropolis of Spain's trans-Pacific possessions. The currents and seasonal storms would not permit a return along the route whence they had come. So Urdaneta, who left Cebu on June 1, 1565, on his 500-ton

  ship, went north to about 39 degrees 30 minutes, and then crossed over, reaching Baja California coast in about 27 degrees 12 minutes. On October 8, he arrived at Acapulco, after a voyage of 129 days, in the course of which 16 men had died. He was somewhat chagrined, no doubt, to find that another ship of his original fleet had preceded him across the Pacific. This was the 40-ton tender commanded by one Ariano. Nine days out from Navidad on the

  westward voyage, Ariano had deserted, eager to find rich islands for his own advantage. On one occasion in the Philippines, where he too went, he was nearly discovered by Urdaneta's fleet. Only the small size of his ship saved him, for from the top of his mast he was able to see the ships of Urdaneta just above the horizon. Ariano had started the return voyage on April 22. He ran most of the time between 40 degrees and 43 degrees, and is said to

  have reached the American shore about at Cape Mendocino, being possibly the discoverer of that point. On August 9, he came to anchor at Navidad, having thus completed the eastward voyage two months earlier and in 20 days less time than Urdaneta. Nevertheless, Urdaneta got the credit. As commander of the expedition and sponsor for the ideas which the deserter Ariano followed, Urdaneta was clearly entitled to the honor.

  In 1566, the first trading voyage of the Galleon was made, but the account reads more like a romance of Treasure Island than it does of a commercial venture. One morguera preached mutiny among the men and got a majority of them to turn pirate. The plan was to get rich quickly in Chinese waters and then return to Europe for a life of ease and plenty. The men rose and murdered their officers, but morguera himself was soon put to death, and

  another succeeded to the command. At one of the Caroline Islands, the majority disembarked to make it a suitable piratical base, leaving only a few men on board. Two of them, however, were the chaplain and the master's mate, who had not sympathized with the plot. They persuaded the others to help them get up the anchor and sail away, and 28 would-be pirates were left marooned on the island.

  In the early years of the Trans-Pacific trade, two or three ships crossed the ocean annually, but they were very small. Down to 1571, they ranged from 40 to 80 tons. Later, only one ship of 500 tons or more made the yearly voyage, though the law restricted their size to 300 tons for a number of years, afterward raising the limit to 500. The Galleons seem to have been a picturesque craft. According to one writer, the Galleons

  were, quote, huge, round-stemmed, clumsy vessels with bulwarks three or four feet thick and built up at stem and stern like a castle, end quote. Footnote. Drake's vice admiral defined them as ships with a keel three times its width in the middle and with a depth in the hold of two-fifths of the width. In other words, in a ratio of 15, 5, and 2. End footnote. It was both merchant ship and war vessel, though the armament would not now seem very

  terrifying. Ordinarily, there were three small cannon, four catapults to hurl stones with, and some 50 muskets. Down to 1593, there was little interference with the trade of the Galleon, whose goods were sold at a remarkable profit in both New Spain and Peru. Gradually, the merchants of Seville, who enjoyed a favored position in the trade with Spain's colonies, gained an impression that the commerce of the Manila ship was cutting into their profits,

  and in 1593 succeeded in introducing a policy of restriction of the trade. According to them, the sale of Chinese silks had ruined the silk industry in Spain, and pre-19th century economic views never for a moment considered the welfare of the colonies if it clashed with the interests of the homeland. In addition to fixing the tonnage of the ships, and the limitation of the number to one a year, many other obstructive measures were taken. Only citizens of Manila could

  own or ship goods. The value at Manila was limited to $250,000, with the right of sale at Acapulco for $500,000. The trade was restricted to New Spain, and the merchants of Peru were excluded. The Philippines were forbidden to trade with China, where silks were made. At times, even the carrying of silk on the galleon was forbidden, and, because it was regarded as bad economics to let species get out of the country, the amount of silver that could

  be taken on the westward voyage was reduced to small proportions. In practice, every one of these restrictions was evaded, but there were periods of spasmodic enforcement of the law, and the evasion was only such as could be effected through the medium of a single ship. Thus, the Philippines were held so much in check that they never became as truly Spanish as the other dominions of the empire. Probably, too, the limitation of the trade, thus reducing

  the demand for a port of refuge on the north Pacific coast, prevented an earlier occupation of Alta California, a matter of great consequence in the light of the sequel. After 1734, some of the restrictions were removed, but the galleon remained an annual ship. The westward cargo of the galleon was light and of slight consequence, consisting mainly of small quantities of silver and articles of luxury. The eastward cargo, on the contrary, was remarkable alike in variety

  and in value. The boat was a veritable treasure house as it left Manila for the voyage to Acapulco. Footnote. The following is a list of the number of products from the different lands of the Far East. China, 135. The Philippines, 39. India, 17. Siam, 7. Japan, 7. Borneo, 6. Macau, 6. Goa, 5. Java, 4, including edible bird's nests. The Moluccas, 4, including the much-valued spices. Persia, 4. Ceylon, 3. Sulu Archipelago, 2. And Cambodia, 1. Gum. From

  America and Europe came a total of 44 different things. In footnote. By far, the most important source of this cargo was China, which also furnished the most prized item, silk. Lands as far away as India and Persia contributed something to the store of the galleon. Chinese junks brought over the goods, and their cargos were bought wholesale for the merchants of Manila. Usually a year's credit was granted, and the Philippine government gave its bond

  as security. The goods were distributed to residents of the Philippines according as they held boletas, or tickets, for space on the galleon. Many of the boleta holders were in fact operating on behalf of merchants in New Spain, despite the provisions of the law to the contrary. The cargos went as a whole, all profits and losses being shared according to the number of boletas. Though papal bulls had been secured forbidding religious associations

  to engage in trade, this order was evaded in the Philippines as elsewhere, and the trustees of the Pius Fund made themselves a veritable banking society. The operations of this institution helped to give some idea of the enormous profits of the trade. For example, a man with $10,000 could procure a loan of $40,000, thus getting $50,000 worth of space on the galleon. A successful voyage would, however, bring him in from $100,000 to $200,000, giving a fine return on his investment

  after paying his debt. Meanwhile, he would be paying interest at the rate of perhaps If the ship was lost, he could borrow another $50,000 without additional security, and if the second voyage were a success, he would still be able to repay his loans and have a profit of at least 100%. It is no wonder that the zeal for trade not infrequently outran due precaution. The galleon was often short of armament in order to make room for a few

  more bales of silk, and it was nearly always overladen. Consequently, there were many wrecks. At best, the voyage was extremely dangerous. Not only did the merchants of Manila or their principals in New Spain engage in trade, but also every man aboard ship had a financial stake in the voyage. Thus, salaries ranged from $4,125 for the commander, or general, as he was called, down to $25 for a deckhand. But the commander might make as much as $40,000

  from a single trip, and the other officers would profit to the extent of $20,000 or $30,000, while the lowliest sailor would multiply his wage earnings many times over. Though every voyage meant imminent risk of death, men faced wreck or scurvy, exposure or capture, and paid a good figure for the privilege of a position on the galleon. Arrived at Acapulco, the cargo was inspected and officially valued at its $500,000 limit, though it might reach

  many thousands beyond that. The duties were collected and a great fair was held. This was exceeded in size by the fairs of Veracruz and Jalapa, but the profits at Acapulco were richer. The law allowed a profit of 100 percent, but usually the actual gains may have reached from 150 to 200 percent. The profit on silk was as high as 400 percent. An interesting phase of the history of the galleon was the passenger service. Missionaries

  were sent over from New Spain and returned to that kingdom when relieved from duty. Their life aboard ship was not always happy, for the officers of the galleon reflected a feeling which many in the Philippines had that soldiers and merchants were more needed there than missionaries. Then, too, on the return voyage they occupied valuable space which otherwise might serve for cargo. Troops to guard the ship and to supply the needs of the Philippine

  garrison were also carried. The service in the Philippines was so distasteful, however, that ingenious methods were often resorted to to get volunteers. Making capital out of the universal vice of gambling in New Spain, recruiting officers would go about playing five dollars against demands enlistment, and sooner or later they would get their man. Philippine government officials traveled on the galleon, and stowaways were often found

  on the voyage from the Philippines, but rarely if ever to there. Passengers proper consisted mainly of Mexican and at times Peruvian merchants. A paternalistic law required them to take their wives, lest they commit bigamy or else promise to return home within a stipulated time. Since bachelors could only take 150 dollars in private property with them, while married men might take 300 dollars worth, there was a certain financial advantage in

  being accompanied by one's helpmeet, though it is doubtful if the limitation was very strictly enforced. The fare seems often to have been a private venture of the officers, who took the passage money for themselves and provided for the maintenance of the passengers out of their own stock of supplies. There was a great difference in the nature of the voyage itself by the westward and eastward routes. The westward voyage was comparatively

  easy, requiring from two to three months, according to the amount of delay necessitated by threading through the difficult Philippines group itself. Having found a satisfactory route, the Spaniards followed it steadily for 250 years. Passing through a veritable ocean of islands, the Hawaiian among others, they did not sight land until they reached the Carolines or the Ladrones, and never discovered the other groups along the way.

  The eastward voyage was one of the most perilous that the world knew. In the voyage of 1697-1698, Gimelli Carreri, an Italian traveler, was a passenger from Manila to Acapulco, and, fortunately for posterity, wrote a full account of his journey across the Pacific. According to the translation in Churchill's Collections of Voyages and Travels, this is what the experienced globetrotter had to say.

  The voyage from the Philippine Islands to America may be called the longest and most dreadful of any in the world, as well because of the vast ocean to be crossed being almost one half of the Terraqueous globe, and with wind always ahead, and for the terrible tempest that happened there, one upon the back of another, and for the desperate diseases that seize people in seven or eight months lying at sea, sometimes near the line, sometimes

  cold, sometimes temperate, and sometimes hot, which is enough to destroy a man of steel much more flesh and blood, which at sea had but indifferent food. In the first place, a departure from Manila had to be made before the end of June, for a later sailing meant that they would be caught in the terrific typhoons which occurred shortly afterwards. Getting out of the Philippine Islands was one of the most dangerous tasks,

  and it often took as much as six weeks to do that alone. Between the Ladrones and northern Japan, incessant storms were encountered, and not a few vessels were wrecked. If they went ashore in Japan, they were in danger of being plundered. It was largely on this account that the Spaniards were for a while so eager to find two imaginary islands, which they called Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata, as a way station in which to refit without

  being under the necessity of touching in Japan. Turning eastward, they ran with the Japan current along the 40th parallel, though at times they got as far north as 47 degrees, until they saw signs indicating that they were approaching the North American coast. Then they turned gradually toward the south. Sometimes they sighted the coast as far north as Cape Mendocino, while at others Baja California was the first land they saw. Usually, however,

  they first approached the shore in the vicinity of Monterey. As they neared the coast, there was a time of great hazards on account of the bad weather, cold, fog, and the variety of currents. The voyage of Gameli Carreri took 204 days and five hours, or almost seven months about the usual time. For over five months of this time, the galleon was on the high seas without making a single stop or coming to anchor. Naturally, there were many

  unpleasant incidents aside from the dangers of the storms in such a long voyage. It may be presumed that seasickness gave some the same sort of a disagreeable sensation that it does to many today. Furthermore, there was no opportunity to promenade, as on a present-day ocean liner. Space was far too valuable to be wasted on any such luxury. Indeed, there was often not enough room below decks to sleep. Cramped quarters rarely improved dispositions,

  and the Manila galleon witnessed its share of quarreling. On one occasion, said Gameli, quote, the pilot's mate had some words with a passenger he carried over on his own account, who, complaining that his table was too poor, the other struck him on the face and then run after him with a knife, end quote. For punishment, both men were obliged to stand some hours in the Bilboas, but there is no record of any further protest by this particular passenger. Gameli

  confided to his journal, however, his own distaste for the food and for the hardships of the voyage in general, quote. The poor people stowed in the cabins of the galleon bound toward the land of promise of New Spain, endure no less hardships than the children of Israel did when they first went from Egypt toward Palestine. There is hunger, thirst, sickness, and death. I may further say they endure all the plagues God sent upon Pharaoh to soften his hard heart,

  for if he was infected with leprosy, the galleon is never clear of a universal raging illness, and the galleon is never clear of a universal raging itch, as in addition to all other miseries. If the air then was filled with gnats, the ship swarms with the little vermin the Spaniards call gargoyles, bred in the biscuit, so swift that they in short time not only run over cabins, beds, and

  the very dishes the men eat on, but insensibly fasten upon the body. Instead of the locusts, there are several other sorts of vermin of sundry colors that suck the blood. Abundance of flies fall into the dishes of broth, in which there also swim worms of several sorts. In short, if Moses miraculously converted his rod into a serpent, aboard the galleon a piece of flesh, without any miracle, is converted into wood and in the shape of a serpent.

  I had a good share in these misfortunes for the boatswain, with whom I had agreed for my diet, as he had fouls for his table the first days, so when we were out at sea he made me fast after the Armenian manner, having banished from his table all wine, oil, and vinegar, dressing his fish with fair water and salt. Upon flesh days he gave me tasajos fritos, that is, steaks of beef or buffalo dried in the sun or wind, which are so hard that it is impossible to eat them

  without they are first well beaten like stockfish. Nor is there any digesting them without the help of a purge. At dinner another piece of that same sticky flesh was boiled without any other sauce but its own hardness in fair water. At last he deprived me of the satisfaction of gnawing a good biscuit, because he would spend no more of his own, but laid the king's allowance on the table. In every mouthful whereof there went down abundance of maggots and gargoyles chewed and

  bruised. On fish days the common diet was old rank fish boiled in fair water and salt. At noon we had mongols, something like kidney beans, in which there were so many maggots that they swam at the top of the broth, and the quantity was so great that besides the loathing they caused I doubted whether the dinner was fish or flesh. This bitter fare was sweetened after dinner with a little water and sugar, yet the allowance was but a small coco shellful, which rather increased

  than quinched rot. Providence relieved us for a month with sharks and catchereth us the semen caught, which either boiled or broiled were some comfort. Yet he is to be pitied who has another at the table, for the tediousness of the voyage is the cause of all these hardships. Tis certain that they take this upon them, lay out thousands of pieces of eight in making the necessary provision of flesh, fowl, fish, biscuit, rice, sweet meats, chocolate, and other things,

  and the quantity is so great that during the whole voyage they never fail of sweet meats at table and chocolate twice a day, of which last the sailors and grummets make as great a consumption as the richest. Yet at last the tediousness of the voyage makes an end of all, and the more, because in short time all the provisions grew not except the sweet meats and chocolate, which are the only comfort of passengers." This statement was not overdrawn. The food was bad,

  primarily because of the tediousness or length of the voyage, but there was also scant variety, and vegetables and fruits were little or not at all in evidence. The water, too, was not always good. Sometimes it ran low, for only enough was carried to last until the next expected rain, so as to yield more space for cargo. For the same reason, the water barrels were often hung in the rigging at the mercy of wind and storm, wherefore it was likely to get salt.

  Under all these circumstances, the galleons soon became a floating hospital, with the men in various stages of sickness from the scurvy and kindred ills. The death rate was incredibly high. As the galleon neared the California coast, one after another would give in to the disease and be cast overboard when he died. There were some amenities, however. Now and then they danced, for Spanish dances can be danced in one place without the need of a

  smooth floor. Hence this interfered in no way with the cargo. Frequently there were impromptu plays and charades, and always they gambled. Cockfights furnished a great medium for gambling in the early stages of the voyage, and at such times there were chicken dinners. The men caught sharks and cacheretas while a vessel was in full flight, by hanging out a rag flying fish for them to jump at. When they had their fill of eating these monsters to the sea, they would have cruel sport

  with them. Thus says Gameli, quote, One great one was thrown into the sea again with a board tied to his tail, and it was pleasant to see him swim about without being able to dive down. Two others were tied together by the tails, one of them being first blinded and then being cast into the sea, the blind one opposed to the other that would have drawn him down, thinking himself taken. As soon as the señales, or signs of land, were noticed as they approached the California coast,

  the sailors held a mock trial in which they brought humorous charges against the officers and passengers. All were sentenced to death, but were permitted to buy themselves off with money, sweetmeats, wine, or the like. According to Gameli, quote, He who did not pay immediately, or give good security, was laid on with a rope's end at the least sign given by the President Tarpaulin. I was told a passenger was once killed aboard a galleon by keel-hauling him, end quote.

  At length the galleon pulled into Acapulco, where it anchored under the fort, and, at least in the case of the voyage, which has so often been referred to in the present account, made fast to the shore by means of a rope which was tied around a tree. After 1734, with a gradual removal of restrictions on commerce, the importance of the galleon diminished. Foreign ships began to trade at Manila, though until 1789 this was against the law. In 1763, direct trade between Spain

  and the Philippines around the Cape of Good Hope was instituted. In 1785, the Philippine Company was established, and was granted the privilege of trading with Manila from Spain and of carrying goods directly between the Philippines and South America. The islands gained as a result, but not so the galleon. Finally, the merchants of Manila themselves asked for the abolition of the galleon service, and for permission in its place for private-owned ships, as well as those of the

  Company, to trade with Spain or the colonies. The request was granted, and in 1815, after a quarter of a thousand years, the sailings of the galleon were abandoned. The relation of California to the galleon is almost as long a story as is that of the galleon itself. Many allusions will hereafter be made, but the gist of the tale may be given here. Except for a few outstanding voyages, the only ships which visited Alta California prior to 1769 were those from Manila, and they came every

  year. Yet, precise information of their voyages is lacking. Indeed, after Urdaneta, only Gali in 1584, Rodriguez-Sermeno in 1595, and Gimeli Carreri in 1697, have left any known records of visits to Alta California shores. Footnote. The Gali and Rodriguez-Sermeno voyages will be taken up in Chapter 10. Gimeli first came to land at Catalina Island. In footnote. A work of navigation by González Cabrera Bueno, published in 1734, gives a fairly accurate description of the coast,

  except for the emission of San Francisco Bay, and tells how the galleon usually sighted the region of Monterrey. The Vizcaino expedition of 1602-1603, of which more later, had one of its principal causes, the discovery of a port which could serve as a suitable way station for the galleon. And this matter was agitated for the next 150 years, being one of the important motives for an advance of the Spanish conquest to Monterrey. In 1734, the galleon stopped in Baja

  California, and thereafter did so occasionally at other times. In 1775, orders were given that the galleon must stop at Monterrey, under penalty of a fine on the commander, but it would seem that it rarely did so. In any event, it was forbidden to trade in Alta California. However little documentary evidence of actual voyages down the coast may ever be found, the importance of the galleon in promoting Spanish conquest toward Alta California demands emphasis. A way station was

  desired, not merely to allow men to recover their health and repair the ship, but also to send word of their coming, and to receive it in turn of the presence of pirates or foreign enemies in those seas, if any there were. For, at least in the seventeenth century, this was one of the grave, but altogether two customary perils of the last stages of the voyage. Footnote. The principal materials used in the preparation of this chapter were the following. One, Carreri

  Giovanni Francisco Gameli, a voyage around the world by Dr. John Francis Camilli Carreri, translated from the original Italian, in a collection of voyages and travels, edited by Arn Sean and John Churchill, London, 1752. Two, Schertz William Lytle, a study in the beginnings of Trans-Pacific Trade, Berkeley, California, 1912. Manuscript, PhD thesis, in the Library of the University of California. End of footnote. End of chapter eight.

  End of chapter eight.

• 09 - Drake and New Albion

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  9. Drake and New Albion Californians have long known of and been interested in the visit to their shores in 1579 of the world-famous navigator Drake, afterwards Sir Francis Drake. Neither they nor others, however, have been wont to realize the full significance of this event from the English standpoint on the one hand or the Spanish on the other. In truth,

  here was the first New England in North America, not alone in the name Nova or New Albion which Drake applied, but also in the deliberate intent then and thereafter to create a great English empire in the Americas around the nucleus of Drake's California discoveries. The plan failed to mature, but the achievements of Drake and later of his fellow countryman Thomas Cavendish stimulated the Spaniards to great efforts which materially furthered their program of an advance up the

  Pacific Coast and into the Californias. The story finds a logical place in the great world events of the 16th century which can only be alluded to briefly here. Spain and England, even when not at war, were bitterly hostile to each other during most of that century, and especially so in the reign of Queen Elizabeth of England, 1558 to 1603. Spain was the great power of Europe and the world, the uncompromising champion of Catholicism in an age of violent religious differences,

  and the sole occupant of the treasure house of the Americas. England, though rising to a position of greatness, was scarcely to be considered as equal in strength to Spain. It was Protestant and anti-Catholic and was particularly displeased with Spain's pretensions not only to the sovereignty, but also to the exclusive trade of the New World. Thus, English mariners with the secret or even the open backing of the royal authorities made voyages to the Americas to smuggle goods into Spanish

  colonies or capture Spanish ships and plunder their towns. There was what amounted to a perpetual warfare, though in Europe the two peoples were for the first 30 years of Elizabeth's reign outwardly at peace. Greatest of the earlier sailors of this period was John Hawkins, under whom Drake received his training. In 1568, the fleet of John Hawkins came to grief in the port of Veracruz when it was attacked by the Spaniards in contravention of what the survivors

  claimed was their plighted word. On this occasion, Drake indeed escaped capture, but lost some 7,000 ducats, all that he possessed, which he had embarked in Hawkins' venture. Filled with hate for the enemy, whom he regarded as having treacherously deprived him of his fortune, Drake swore an oath to be revenged. Never was an oath more faithfully and completely kept. During the remainder of his life, he collected the debt many times over and was a veritable

  scourge of Spain. In 1573, he made an inland journey nearly across the Isthmus of Panama with a view to capturing the Spanish treasure coming that way from Peru. Reaching the Continental Divide, he climbed a tree and saw before him, for the first time, the waters of the Pacific. As he told his old comrade, John Oxenham, he besought Almighty God of his goodness to give him life and leave to sail once in an English ship in that sea.

  This wish developed into the proportions of a vow, for from that time forward, Drake was resolved to find a way to accomplish his desire. Five years later, the chance came. Meanwhile, in 1575, Oxenham had crossed Panama and built a pinnace which sailed in the Pacific, thus depriving Drake of the glory of being the first Englishman to navigate those seas. But Oxenham's party was captured by the Spaniards.

  It was in the years 1577 to 1580 that Drake made his famous voyage around the world, stopping in California in 1579 on the way. One of the moot points about this voyage has been the question whether Drake had the formal authorization of a sovereign for the undertaking or whether he was to be considered a pirate. No instructions of the royal government are extant, but there is such an overwhelming array of circumstantial evidence that there can no longer be a reasonable doubt

  but that he went forth in the royal service. Though Spain and England were not formally at war, the English queen had many scores against Spain which she was only too ready to pay off, if opportunity should offer. To mention but a single thing, there were the constant plots against her life, and the queen well knew that Philip II of Spain was cognizant of them, if not indeed the directing hand. She therefore resolved to pay Spain back in her own coin

  by dealing a series of underhanded blows whereby she could get satisfaction and at the same time profit for the crown. The Earl of Essex recommended Drake to her as a man well fitted to serve her against Spain, and Drake was granted an interview with the queen. Elizabeth seemed desirous of some sort of descent upon the Spanish peninsula itself, but Drake told her majesty of the small good that was to be done in Spain, but the only way was to annoy him

  by his Indies. It would seem that Drake then proposed that he should make a voyage into the Pacific to plunder and destroy Spanish ships and cities there, thus to annoy the king of Spain, and to take possession for his queen of all lands not occupied already by a Christian prince. Then, if possible, he was to return to England by way of the strait through North America, if he could find it, or otherwise by sailing around the world. The evidence for this is not

  direct, but Drake often stated that he had sailed by the queen's commission. According to the testimony of a Portuguese pilot whom he took prisoner and later released, he told all those whom he captured that he came in the service of his sovereign the queen, whose instructions he carried and obeyed, and that he had come more for another purpose than that of taking ships. Furthermore, his ship was fitted out in a way to make an impression beyond anything

  that was required of an ordinary buccaneering adventure, for, neither did he admit to make provision also for ornament or delight, carrying to this purpose with him expert musicians, rich furniture, all the vessels for his table, yea, many belonging even to the cookroom being of pure silver, and diverse shows of all sorts of curious workmanship, whereby the civility and magnificence of his native country might, amongst the nations whithersoever he should come, be the

  more admired." Elizabeth herself seems to have given him some of the dainties and perfumed waters with which he was supplied. In keeping with all this magnificence, Drake had gorgeous uniforms, observed almost royal state on his ship, and was attended by a number of gentlemen of the best families in England. These matters have a bearing on the plans that occasioned and also grew out of Drake's visit to California. In November 1577, Drake left England at the head of a fleet of five

  ships. The largest was the Pelican, a vessel of only a hundred tons subsequently renamed the Golden Hind when Drake reached the Pacific. In all five ships there was a total of a hundred and sixty-four men. Of the early hardships he encountered, and of his experiences in South and Central America, there is little need here to tell. He entered the Pacific in September 1578. Sailing northward, with only his flagship left to him, he attacked Spanish towns and ships until he had a treasure

  that filled the vessel to its capacity. Proceeding to New Spain, he stopped at Huatulco in Oaxaca. Harry put ashore the last of the prisoners he had taken, except for three negroes, and procured supplies. He had sufficiently worried King Philip, but the principal business of the voyage remained to perform. He wished now to find suitable lands for British colonies and the way of escape from the Spaniards through the strait, and the fewer witnesses he had with him the better. Leaving

  Huatulco on April 16, 1579, Drake went well out to sea and headed toward the unknown waters of the north. There is a dispute as to the farthest north Drake reached, a dispute which was of international significance down to the Oregon Treaty of 1846 between Great Britain and the United States. The British claim was based largely on their contention that Drake had discovered the coast above 42 degrees, the present northern boundary of California, to 48 degrees.

  The international dispute, having long since been settled, it has been possible to investigate the matter objectively, and the consensus of opinion has been in favor of 42 degrees. George Davidson, who knew the Pacific coast as well as any man that ever lived, held at Drake, stopped between 42 and 43 degrees, at Chetco Cove, 42 degrees, three minutes, just over the California line in present-day Oregon. He was, therefore, the probable discoverer

  of that state, for it is unlikely that Forello saw the coast so far north. It is true that the claim for the higher latitude was based on accounts of those who made the voyage, together with their comments on the extraordinary cold they experienced and the snow they saw in the mountains. But these very accounts are inconsistent in themselves, and the remarks about the cold were applied equally to what we all recognize as the California coast and to the supposedly more northern climates.

  Thus, John Drake, a cousin of the commander, who was on the golden hind, had this to say in 1854 when questioned by Spanish officials of the Rio de la Plata. They sailed out at sea until they reached 48 degrees north. Captain Francis gave the land that is situated at 48 degrees the name of New England. They were there a month and a half, taking in water and wood and repairing their ship. In 1587, the same John Drake made the following declaration before the Inquisition of Lima.

  Then they left Huatulco and sailed until they reached 44 degrees, when the wind changed and he, Drake, the commander, went to the Californias, where he discovered land in 48 degrees. There he landed and built huts and remained for a month and a half. Another account, presumably by a sailor on the voyage, made 48 degrees the farthest north and spoke of landing in 44 degrees. The chaplain of the golden hind, Francis Fletcher, whose narrative is the principal

  account of the voyage that has survived, said that they were in 42 degrees on June 3rd. Two days later, the contrary winds forced them to shore, where they cast anchor in a bad bay, which Davidson identifies as Chetko Cove. This was their farthest north and, according to Fletcher, they were in 48 degrees. Thus, in two days, against contrary winds and the Japan current, they must have sailed over 400 miles. If that rate had been maintained since leaving Huatulco,

  they would have gone 10,000 miles. It would seem, therefore, that the latitudes given were all too high. Richard Hacklute, the immortal collector of all narratives on voyages and a contemporary of Drake, gave 42 degrees as the northerly limit, changing in the later date to 43 degrees. Davidson's views, already referred to, may be accepted for the present as most likely to have represented the truth. Footnote. The most extravagant view is that taken recently by Mrs. Nuttall.

  According to her, quote, Drake ventured so far north that even he dared go no further, and was forced to turn back on account of the intense cold and ice he encountered. Earning, however, the credit, accorded to him by contemporary poets, notably by the Spaniard Lope de Vega, of having sighted the north as well as the south pole. In the absence of Mrs. Nuttall's proofs, it is impossible as yet to accept her conclusions. Into footnote. Incidentally, it was to Drake's interest to state

  the latitude as high as he could, not only for the glory that would accrue to him as the discoverer, but also, and perhaps more especially, to excuse his failure to continue the search for the straight. According to the testimony of the Portuguese pilot, whom he put ashore at Watulco, Drake had told him that he was under orders to go as far north as 66 degrees before abandoning the attempt to discover the straight. Chaplain Fletcher, whom Drake once described as

  ye falsest knave that liveth, seems to have justified his commander's reflections on his veracity in his comments about the cold off the California coast. According to Fletcher, quote, the very ropes of our ship were stiff, and the rain which fell was an unnatural congealed and frozen substance. Though seamen lack not good stomachs, yet it seemed a question to many amongst us whether their hands should feed their mouths or rather keep themselves within their cupboards

  from the pinching cold which did benumb them. Our meat, as soon as it was removed from the fire, would presently in a manner be frozen up. Every hill, whereof we saw many but none very high, though it were in June, and the sun in its nearest approach unto them being covered with snow. Referring to their disagreeable position in the Bad Bay, Chetko Cove, Fletcher says, quote, we were not without some danger by reason of the many extreme gusts and flaws that beat upon us,

  which, if they ceased and were still at any time, immediately upon their intermission there followed most vile, thick, and stinking fogs, end quote. One might indeed have wondered if they had not touched the Arctic zone, were it not that the chaplain used the same extreme language in describing the cold at Drake's Landing Place in 38 degrees, clearly within Alta California. Suffice to say that the natives, the birds, and the very land itself shivered with the cold,

  and there is more about thick mists and most stinking fogs and the nipping cold of a California in June and July. It is, of course, clear to Californians how these statements came to be made. The fogs of the summer along the northern coast do indeed seem cold to one who has not acclimated. Many a man from the east of the United States will shiver through his first summer, but rarely afterward. It may well have seemed worse to Drake and his men, who had for a long

  time been in the tropics. John Drake says nothing of the cold and gives no hint that they had reached a far northern climb. At any rate, Drake turned south soon after he first sighted land, being forced back by the contrary winds according to Fletcher. Perhaps the principal reason for his return, or at least for his failure to resume the northward voyage, was that the coast ran so continuously to the northwest that he and his men began to believe that North America was

  joined to Asia or very near it, and therefore there was scant probability of a straight. So the ship went south along the California coast, and as Fletcher puts it, quote, In 38 degrees 31 minutes we fell within a convenient and fit harbor, and on June 17th came to anchor therein, where we continued till the 23rd day of July following, end quote. It is now generally agreed that this was Drake's Bay, but for a long time many held at the stop

  was made in San Francisco Bay a little further south, while others contended in favor of Bodega Bay a few miles to the north. The Spaniards always said that Drake stopped in the Bay of San Francisco, but this was the only possible argument for that port, as the description of Drake's stopping place in no way tallied with that of San Francisco Bay. When it developed that the Bay of San Francisco was for nearly two centuries the Spanish name for Drake's Bay, while the Bay now

  so called was unknown to them, the argument for San Francisco Bay was dropped. Bodega Bay is not a convenient and fit harbor, for it is open to the westerly winds, and no ship like Drake's could have stayed there 36 days. Drake's Bay is small, but it might have been deemed a good port, and besides, it has the white banks and cliffs which lie toward the sea referred to in the description given by Fletcher. On the day following their arrival they were harangued three times by an

  Indian in a canoe who made a great show of reverence and submission. The Indians, in general, seemed to be in a state of wonderment about the ship, which was the first, so far as is known, that had ever stopped there, though Ferrello's expedition and, no doubt, a number of the galleons had in previous years passed within sight of the shore. Three days later Drake moved his ship farther in that he might repair a leak, and he landed his men but took the precaution of making

  a rough fort for their protection and set up tents to sleep in. The Indians, however, were very submissive and showed plainly that they looked upon Drake and his men as gods, despite the attempts of the latter to persuade them that they were not. The Englishmen, on their part, were interested in the customs of the Indians, their wigwam homes, their dress or lack of it, and the rude presence that they brought. During two days the Indians stayed away, but then they came with a great

  concourse from neighboring towns and with gifts, or, as they seemed to Drake's men, sacrifices upon this persuasion that we were gods. Quote, When they came to the top of the hill, at the bottom, whereof we had built our fort, they made a stand, where one, appointed as their chief speaker, worried both us as hearers and himself too with a long and tedious oration. Delivered with strange and violent gestures, his voice being extended to the uttermost strength of nature, and his words

  following so thick on one on the neck of another that he could hardly fetch his breath again. As soon as he had concluded, all the rest, with a reverent bowing of their bodies and a dreaming matter and long producing of the same, cried, oh, thereby giving their consents that all was very true which he had spoken, and that they had uttered their mind by his mouth unto us. Which done, the men laying down their bows upon the hill, and leaving their women and children behind them,

  came down with their presence, in such sort as if they had appeared before a god indeed, thinking themselves happy that they might have access unto our general, but much more happy when they saw that he would receive at their hands those things which they so willingly had presented. No doubt they thought themselves nearest unto God when they sat or stood next to him. In the meantime, the women, as if they had been desperate, used unnatural violence against

  themselves, crying and shrieking piteously, tearing their flesh with their nails from their cheeks in a monstrous manner, the blood streaming down along their breasts, besides despoiling the upper parts of their bodies of those single coverings they formerly had, and holding their hands above their heads that they might not rescue their breasts from harm, they would with fury cast themselves upon the ground, never respecting whether it were clean or soft, but dashed themselves in

  this manner on hard stones, knobby hillocks, stalks of wood and prickling bushes or whatever else lay in their way, iterating the same course again and again. Yea, women great with childs some nine or ten times each, and others holding out till fifteen or sixteen times, till their strengths failed them. They exercised this cruelty against themselves. A thing more grievous for us to see or suffer could we have helped it, than trouble to them as it seemed to do it. This bloody sacrifice against

  our wills, being thus performed, our General, with his company in the presence of those strangers, fell to prayers, and by signs and lifting up our eyes and hands to heaven, signified unto them that the God whom we did serve and whom they ought to worship was above. Beseeching God, if it were his good pleasure, to open by some means their blinded eyes, that they might in due time be called to the knowledge of him, the true and ever-living God, and of Jesus Christ, whom he had sent, the

  salutation of the Gentiles. In the time of which prayers, singing of songs, and the reading of certain chapters of the Bible, they sat very attentively. And, observing the end at every pause, with one voice still cried, Hoah! greatly rejoicing in our exercises. Yea, they took such pleasure in our singing of psalms, that whenever they resorted to us, their first request was commonly this, and ah, by which they entreated that we should sing. Our General, having now bestowed

  upon them diverse things at their departure, they restored them all again, none carrying with him anything of whatsoever he had received, thinking themselves sufficiently enriched and happy that they had found so free access to see us." Three days later, the Heel, or as Drake's men understood it, the king of all that country, came to visit them. On this occasion, there were a number of long, unintelligible speeches, and religious songs and dances by the Indians, after which,

  as Fletcher asserts, they offered Drake the scepter and the crown, even the Heel joining in, quote, making signs that they would resign unto him their right entitled in the whole land, and become his vassals in themselves and their posterities. Wherefore, in the name and to the use of her most excellent majesty, he took the scepter, crown, and dignity of the said country unto his hand, unquote. The ceremony was described at great

  length, and was relied upon by the English government nearly three centuries later in part substantiation of its claim to the northwest coast. It is now generally held that the Indians, who had not the faintest conception of the meaning of sovereignty, were going through the ceremony of the peace pipe, admitting Drake to membership in the tribe. After this was over, the common sort, both of men and women, leaving the king and his guard about him with our general,

  dispersed themselves among our people, taking a diligent view or survey of every man, and finding such as pleased their fancies, which commonly were the youngest of us, they presently enclosing them about, offered their sacrifices unto them, crying out with lamentable shrieks and moans, weeping and scratching and tearing their very flesh off their faces with their nails. Neither were it the women alone which did this, but even old men, roaring and crying out,

  were as violent as the women were, end quote. In the course of the long stay at this port, Drake and some of his company made an inland journey, but whether for several days or only for a few hours, the record does not say. They found it to be, quote, far different from the shore, a goodly country and fruitful soil, stored with many blessings fit for the use of man, end quote. Among other things, they saw very large and fat deer by thousands and a multitude

  of strange kind of conies. They seem not to have set eyes upon San Francisco Bay, for there is no reference to such a body of water in the records of their sojourn. Drake called the country Nova Albion, induced to this course by the white banks and cliffs which lie toward the sea, but more particularly it may be imagined, quote, that it might have some affinity, even in name also, with our own country, England, which was sometimes so-called, end quote. Drake also took

  good care to set up a monument claiming title to that kingdom for Queen Elizabeth and her successors. At length the time for departure was at hand, and when the Indians perceived that the Englishmen were going, they were filled with grief and renewed their sacrifices. They made signs indicating that they hoped to be remembered and wished that the Englishmen would return some day. As the golden hind went out of the port, July 23, 1579, they lighted beacon fires on the hills.

  The next day, Drake was at the Falarone Islands, unaware how near he was to that great port of the west. Here is the narrative of that day, quote. Not far without this harbor, Drake's Bay, did lie certain islands, we called them the islands of St. James, having on them plentiful and a great store of seals and birds, with one of which we fell July 24th, whereon we found such provision as might competently serve our turn for a while. We departed again the next day following, viz July 25th.

  Drake's further adventures may be rapidly passed over. He steered across the Pacific, and for 68 days was out of sight of the land. At length he reached the Philippines and the Moluccas, and then sailed on around the Cape of Good Hope to England. On one occasion, an event happened which is at once illustrative of Drake's luck and of the perils of the sea. While under full sail in an open sea at night, the golden hind ran aground and stuck fast. Yet all around, when soundings were

  taken, they could not find bottom. When day came, it proved that the ship had run upon a shelving bit of rock, possibly the peak of a prehistoric mountain. They had come upon it at high tide, and now that the tide had fallen, their chance of getting off seemed worse than ever. The ship fell over on its side, and then, when death was all but upon them, the keel was loosed and the vessel rolled off into deep water. On September 26th, 1580, with one ship out of the

  five that he had started with, and about 50 men out of an original 164, Drake sailed into Plymouth, England. He had taken two years and nearly ten months for the voyage, in the course of which he had circumnavigated the globe. The golden hind was the second ship which had achieved this distinction, and Drake was the first individual who had made the entire voyage as commander of his ship. These, then, are the facts concerning Drake's visit to California. But the story does not end

  here. As has already been intimated, Drake and the Queen seem definitely to have planned the establishment of a colonial empire in the Americas in rivalry to that of Spain. Drake believed that, in New Albion, he had found a satisfactory nucleus for the attempt, thinking, though of course mistakenly, that, quote, the Spaniards never had any dealing or so much as set afoot in this country, the utmost of their discoveries reaching only to many degrees southward of this place.

  His treatment of the Indians, too, seems to have been founded on a deliberate intention of attracting them to English rule and the Protestant faith, in contrast to the virtual enslavement which the Spaniards and Portuguese had subjected the natives. Drake dreamed of an English New Spain or Peru in California, and surely the equivalent was there, holding that, quote, there is no part of the earth here to be taken up wherein there is not some special likelihood of gold or silver, end quote.

  Queen Elizabeth herself joined him in this speculation, and a project was drawn up in exact imitation of the practices of Spain. This document, which was headed, quote, a project of a corporation of such a self-venture into such dominions and countries situate beyond the equinoctial line, unquote, merits insertion here. It reads as follows, quote, in premise that it may please her majesty to grant like privileges as have been granted by herself and her progenitors unto her

  subjects trading into the dominions of the emperor of Russia. Item, that in consideration of the late notable discovery made by Francis Drake of such dominions as are situated beyond the said equinoctial line, it may please her majesty that he may, during his natural life, supply the place of the governor of the said company. And in consideration of his great travail and hazard of his person in the said discovery, to have, during his said life, a tenth part of the profits

  of such commodities as shall be brought into this realm from the parts above remembered. Item, that there shall be reserved unto her majesty a fifth part of the profit of such mines of gold and silver as shall be found in these countries that are hereafter to be discovered and are not lawfully possessed by any other Christian prince. Item, that it may please her majesty to erect a house of contrates with such orders as were granted by the king of Spain.

  Thus, Drake was to be the governor of the new company, or at least to appoint that officer, and was to receive a large share of the profits, while Elizabeth was to get the royal fifth and to establish an English casa de construcción or house of trade. The seat of the company's activities was referred to only as beyond the equinoctial line, but there can be no doubt from other evidence that California was to be the head and center of the plan. This becomes more clear

  in light of a 16th century French map of Drake's voyage inscribed as seen and corrected by Drake himself. In this map, the crown and arms of the Queen of England were placed on the islands south of the Strait of Magellan and on California. The name Nova Albio appears, but it runs nearly halfway across the continent. Most significant of all is a boundary line, beginning at the head of the Gulf of California and running east through what is now the United

  States to a point in the Gulf of Mexico where the peninsula of Florida breaks off to the south. Below this line is the caption Nova Hispani, or New Spain. A small section on the South Atlantic coast, beginning in northeastern Florida, is marked off as Nova France, or New France, in deference to the French Huguenot colonies of the middle and later 16th century. All the rest, including the narrow wedge of the Florida peninsula between New France and New Spain,

  was apparently to be part of Drake's New England or Albion, proceeding not out of Plymouth Rock or Boston Harbor, but from the faraway western port at Drake's Bay. The project was something more than a wild dream. According to the testimony of one of Drake's prisoners, captured by him while off the northwestern coast of South America and released the next day, the English navigator had said, quote, that if God spared his life, he would return here from his country within two years

  with six or seven galleons, end quote. Steps were taken immediately after Drake's return to England to make good this assertion. In January 1581, the Spanish ambassador to England wrote that Queen Elizabeth had agreed that Drake was to start with 10 ships for the Maloccas, he understood, and that six more were to go to Brazil and join Drake later in the Pacific. Political complications in Europe, however, especially the danger of a conflict with Spain,

  caused the plan to be abandoned. Another expedition was organized, presumably to go to the Maloccas, but it was fitted out with the elements necessary to the founding of a colony and was ordered to find a northern route to New Albion. The sequel, as told by Mrs. Nuttall, was as follows, quote, by some intrigue, the command was finally given to Edward Fenton, whom Drake and his men suspected of having dealings with the Spanish ambassador.

  It certainly came to pass that orders were disregarded. The fleet was taken to the coast of Brazil where it was met and attacked by Spanish ships. Suspecting treachery, John Drake and a small party separated themselves from the expedition, which was then abandoned. Thus, the attempt to colonize New Albion and establish trade relations with the East Indies was frustrated, end quote. Drake's first visit to California was, therefore, his last,

  and it was two centuries more before his countrymen again appeared off that coast. His achievement, however, was not without result, though Spain originally and the United States ultimately were to profit by it instead of England. As will be pointed out in the next chapter, he stimulated the Spaniards to efforts which were later to bear fruit in the occupation of the Californias precisely against such a peril as Drake's plan represented.

  It is therefore fitting, not only in honor of the English navigator's great feat in itself, but also in testimony of the importance of his work as affecting the future of California, that a stone cross should have been raised to his memory on one of the hills of San Francisco overlooking the Golden Gate and San Francisco Bay. The literature on Drake's voyage in the Pacific is of vast proportions,

  but though much contemporary material has been discovered, many of the facts concerning this celebrated expedition are still veiled in mystery. This is due mainly to the disappearance of Drake's own journal and the necessity for reliance upon inconclusive evidences. Particularly noteworthy among the works employed in preparing this chapter are the following. The author was a nephew of the Admiral. The remarks cited to Fletcher in this chapter are from this volume.

  In Hacklute Society Works, second series, volume 34. End of footnote. End of chapter 9.

• 10 - Gali and Rodríguez Cermenho

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  CHAPTER X. GALI AND RODRIGUEZ SERRAMENO Drake's voyage to the Pacific awakens Spain to a realization of the danger she ran of losing large portions of her empire. Never before had she encountered competition along the western shores of the Americas, and her only thought there had been to extend her dominion in the direction of lands that promised quick returns and wealth. To be sure, Rodriguez

  Cabrillo and other leaders had sought the mysterious northern strait in order to forestall foreign occupation. But the principal idea during most of the first century after the discovery of America had been that of remunerative conquest rather than defense. The expedition of Drake may fairly be said to have caused a change in Spanish colonial policy and the introduction of a new spirit which was to be the dominant note for another

  200 years. Henceforth, Spain indeed sought rich lands, though more and more inclined to insist on proof before undergoing the expensive conquest. But fear of foreign danger began to take the principal place in her calculations for an extension of the sphere under her control. Expansion in order to ensure the safety of her already occupied dominions, the policy of what may be termed aggressive-defensive, became the key note in Spain's activities

  along her colonial borders. No region that she then possessed was so valuable to her as the kingdom of New Spain, and none of the mainland colonies was so exposed to European attack. Spain learned, thus early in her career, that the Californias, extending down through 800 miles of peninsula to Cape San Lucas, constituted a grave danger if they should fall into the hands of an enemy, for they lay conveniently near a great part of the

  west coast of New Spain. It was natural, therefore, that she should wish to occupy the Californias, even though the effort should occasion considerable expense and though the expected riches should not develop. Footnote. It is to be regretted that no very thorough survey of the period embraced by this chapter and the three which follow it has yet been made from the standpoint of governmental materials, wherefore clear proofs of official intention are not always

  at hand. The events themselves are fairly well known, though even they come mainly through the reports of one element, the religious, but their setting in the larger sphere of Spanish imperial design has still to be treated authoritatively by the historian. In footnote. Allusion has already been made to the reports of the Spanish ambassador in England about Drake's project for a second voyage to the Pacific. What action the Spanish government

  took has not yet been revealed, but it is clear that the viceroys of this period displayed an unusually great interest in the Californias, with a view to making Spanish establishments there. This interest was heightened by rumors that Drake had discovered the strait and sailed through it. Indeed, the story of the pilot Morena, already referred to in chapter 7, was current in New Spain for many years, being advanced at least as late as 1626. On top

  of all this came a report from Francisco de Galli, commander of the Manila Galleon in 1584, that he had encountered evidences of the strait in his voyage of that year. According to the account of this voyage by Fernandez de Navarrete, footnote, in 1802, in his introduction to the narrative of the voyage of the sutil and mexicana, which went north in 1792 to prove once and for all the truth or falsity of the reports about that strait, in footnote.

  Galli sailed 300 leagues east and northeast of Japan, quote, and found open sea with currents from the north and northwest which were not diverted by the wind, whatever its violence or direction, until, having sailed 700 leagues, he reached the coast of New Spain, where he no longer observed the currents or the depths of sea previously met with. This gave Galli the idea that the strait between Tartary, or northern Asia, and New Spain was in the

  region of the currents. He also encountered on all his 700-league voyage a great number of whales, tunifish, albacore, and bonitos, which are fish usually found in channels where there are currents. These circumstances confirmed him the more in his belief that the much talked of strait was in that vicinity, end quote. On this occasion, too, Galli passed along the Alta California coast. The narrative of

  the voyage, as translated in Bancroft, after telling what had happened in the earlier stages of its sailing, went on to say that, quote, Being by the same course upon the coast of New Spain under 37 degrees 30 minutes, we passed by a very high and fair land with many trees, wholly without snow, and four leagues from the land you find thereabouts many drifts of roots, leaves of trees, reeds, and other leaves like fig leaves, the like whereof we

  found in great abundance in the country of Japan, which they eat. And some of those that we found I cause to be sodden with flesh, and, being sodden, they eat like coal-warts. There, likewise, we found great store of seals, whereby it is to be presumed, and certainly to be believed, that there are many rivers, bays, and havens along by those coasts to the haven of Acapulco. From thence we ran southeast, southeast and by south, and southeast and by east, as we

  found the wind, to the point called Cabo de San Lucas, which is the beginning of the land of California on the northwest side, lying under 22 degrees, being 500 leagues distant from Cape Mendocino." This account is an interesting indication that other Spanish ships had passed along Alta California coast as far north as Cape Mendocino between the time of Ferrello in 1543 and Galli in 1584, though no record has yet come down to us. Ferrello did not apply the name in

  1543, and yet it is mentioned casually in 1584 by Galli, who did not see it on his voyage, and who refers to it as one would to a place long since known and named. Of more immediate consequence, however, is the interest that the viceroy of New Spain displayed in Galli's story. Galli himself was a man of more than ordinary attainments, and therefore his views were regarded as worthy of credence. The archbishop viceroy, Pedro de Moya, said of him,

  "...that he was the best trained and most distinguished man in Mexico, and that in regard to cosmography and the art of navigation, he could compete with the most select minds of Spain." Galli was asked about the advisability of establishing a settlement in some California port, which might serve both as a way station for the galleon and as a base for obtaining further information of northern lands. There can be little doubt, too, that the

  element of foreign danger, of which Drake's voyage had been a forcible reminder, was influential in the viceroy's plans. Moya wrote to the king, strongly urging the need of discovering and occupying a port on the Alta California coast, and intimated that he was about to send Galli again to the Philippines, with orders to explore and make maps of the coasts of Japan, the islands of the Armenian, as the islands later styled Rico de Oro and Rico de Plata were sometimes called,

  and the Californias. It seems probable that the voyage was not made as no evidence of it has come to light. At any rate, Moya's successor, the Marqués de Villa Monrique, was clearly out of sympathy with the project. In May 1585, five months before he reached New Spain to take over the government of the viceroyalty, Villa Monrique expressed his opinion that, though no settlements had been made in the Californias, the ships from the Philippines had not suffered any inconvenience

  for the lack of them. He seems not to have considered the matter from the standpoint of foreign danger. Upon his arrival in New Spain, it is likely that the plan was dropped. If the new viceroy felt that there was no reason for anxiety over foreign incursions into the Pacific, he was soon rudely disillusioned. In 1586, Thomas Cavendish had set sail from England with three ships of respectively 120, 60, and 40 tons, and with 123 men. Entering the Pacific in 1587,

  he sailed north, ravaging the coasts of Peru and New Spain and capturing many ships. Learning that the galleon was soon expected, the richest prize of all, he betook himself with his two remaining ships to the Bay of San Bernabé at Cape San Lucas in the Californias. On November 4, 1587, the galleon of that year, the Santa Ana, a 700-ton ship laden with rich silks and other cargo, besides 122,000 pesos in gold, hove into sight. Cavendish gave battle and after a desperate fight,

  took the prize. He thereupon transferred to his own ships what he wanted of her cargo, burned the galleon, and set sail for England. With one of his ships, he got across the Pacific and eventually around the world to England. The survivors of the Santa Ana found that enough remained of the hulk for them to make their way in it to Acapulco. Now, more than ever, it seemed clear that something must be done about occupying the Californias, for it was there that

  the foreign ships had the best opportunity to lie in wait for the galleon, which was such an important element in the economic life of New Spain. More than likely, the achievements of Drake and Cavendish would serve as an alluring inducement to others. The worst of it was that a mere handful of men seemed capable of upsetting Spain's security in the Pacific. Steps were taken, therefore, to discover a northern port along the California coast

  where the galleon might receive notice whether the seas were clear and perhaps the escort of a well-armed vessel. In 1591, Luis de Velasco, who had succeeded via Manrique as viceroy in 1590, wrote to the king that it was necessary to discover and survey the ports of the Californias if the Philippine ships were to be adequately protected. Orders were therefore sent from Spain in 1593 for such a survey to be made in the course of a voyage of the galleon.

  The difficulty was to find the money, since a careful exploration would entail considerable additional expense. It was arranged, however, with the consent of the government in Spain that a private individual should supply the funds, in return for which he was to receive concessions enabling him to make a profit on his venture. Accordingly, in 1594, Sebastián Rodríguez Sermeynjo, a Portuguese, was selected to command the Manila ship.

  The mother's name, Sermeynjo, by which he is more often called, is usually written in the Spanish form as Sermeno. Sermeno and Sermeno are also of occasional use. According to Velasco, he was, quote, a man of experience in his calling, one who can be depended upon, and who has means of his own, end quote. Apparently, he was well acquainted with the galleon route, for he seems to have been pilot of the ill-fated

  Santa Anya when Cavanish took it. Rodríguez was given permission to ship a number of tons of cloth at Manila on the galleon, thus receiving the benefit of the space and freight money. The wisdom of the decision to know and perhaps occupy the Californias seemed clear when news came to New Spain, late in 1594, that Richard Hawkins in an English ship had broken into the Pacific some time before and ravaged the South American coast, though he was captured by the

  Spaniards in the month of June, not far from Panama. On July 5, 1595, Rodríguez Sermeynjo left Manila in the San Agustín for the voyage to the Californias and Acapulco, and, on November 4, first sighted the coast in about 42 degrees according to his own account, but in fact farther south, probably a little north of Eureka, above 41 degrees. He now proceeded along the coast, taking soundings and looking for a suitable port except at night when he deemed it wise to run to

  sea. On the 5th, he passed Cape Mendocino. That day and night he experienced a terrific storm, which left the San Agustín in such bad shape that several of the officers petitioned him to veer away from the coast and head at once for Acapulco, giving up the plan for the discoveries. Rodríguez would not hear of it, however, and turned the vessel toward the shore. About noon of the same day, the sailors at the masthead caught sight of Drake's Bay behind Point

  Reyes, whereupon the ship was steered in that direction and came to anchor in the bay. Rodríguez named this port the Bay of San Francisco, although he and his men also called it Bahía Grande, or Great Bay. The narrative of Rodríguez's sojourn at Drake's Bay from November 6 to December 8 compares an interest with that of Drake, and indeed much more precise information was given about the country for some three or four leagues into the interior

  from the place where the Spaniards landed. The Indians were almost equally as friendly as in the time of Drake, and the country impressed the various witnesses who expressed themselves about it as very much like Castile. The Spanish accounts also tell of the great number of deer, which seemed to them of unusually large size, and partridges, probably the conies of Drake's narrative that they saw. Rodríguez's long stay was occasioned by his plan to explore the shore

  in a smaller vessel which he built there, leaving the galleon to keep farther off the coast in the safer waters of the deep sea. In the light of what happened, it was fortunate that he had decided upon this course, for on November 30, the Saint Augustine was driven on shore and wrecked. Only two men seemed to have met death, but most of the cargo and all of the provisions were lost. It would be interesting to have more details of this disaster, but the narratives of the voyage

  which have thus far been found are singularly recitant on this score. The launch or open sailboat which they were building was nearly completed, so they were saved a delay in their departure which otherwise would have cost them their lives. It was pressingly urgent, however, that they should procure supplies, for there were seventy mouths to feed. Rodríguez therefore made two expeditions inland and obtained provisions from the Indians, mostly acorns which, though bitter to the taste,

  kept them from starving. On one occasion, Rodríguez went to a village to recover some timbers which the natives had procured from the wreck of the ship. The Indians showed fight, sending a shower of arrows against the Spaniards which wounded one man. Then they fled, and Rodríguez and his men plundered the village, getting a great booty in acorns. Later the Indians repented and made a gift of further supplies. On December 8th, 1595, Rodríguez left Drake's Bay on the

  San Buenaventura, the launch he had constructed. Seventy men and a store of clothes and stuffs he saved from the galleon, to use in barter with the Indians, were crowded into the tiny ship. He headed south for some small barren islands, the Falarones, that he had seen before, and, quote, passed near the said barren islands on the land side about a league or more from shore, end quote. Footnote. In his report of April 24th, 1596, Rodríguez puts it this way.

  I passed near the said barren islands and near the land about a league away more or less, end quote. Yet he saw nothing of San Francisco Bay. On the 10th he passed Monterey Bay, which he called the Bay of San Pedro. In the afternoon of the 12th, the San Buenaventura came upon a village along the Santa Barbara Channel. The men called to the natives on shore that they were Christianos, Christians, whereby one native caught up the cry, shouting in a loud voice, Christianos, Christianos,

  Christianos, and straight away came out to them on a raft. Rodríguez gave him a woolen blanket and some taffeta. Soon a number of other Indians came. The Spaniards made signs that they were hungry, wherefore the Indians returned to shore and brought back some bitter acorns and a kind of acorn mush. This they offered in exchange for some of the goods in the San Buenaventura store. Indeed, said Rodríguez, quote, this people seems to be somewhat avaricious,

  for after we had given them pieces of taffeta and satin and woolen blankets, they asked for more, end quote. Thus early were the Santa Barbara Indians displaying those qualities, which in later years caused the Spaniards to call them the Chinamen of California, because of their fondness for driving a good bargain. In course of the conversation with them, such as it was, for neither party understood the language

  of the other, some of the Indians said, Mexico, Mexico, it would be interesting to know whether their knowledge of that land had come down to them from the Rodríguez-Cabrillo-Farelo voyage of more than 50 years before, or from some overland communication, or indeed from some other crew of seamen whose visit to California is as yet unknown. Meanwhile, Rodríguez had been making careful surveys of the coast, in accordance with his instructions. The sailors and passengers were

  now sick and weak from lack of food, for they had been subsisting on acorns only. So on the 13th, they joined in asking Rodríguez to desist from making further discoveries and to sail with all possible speed for a land where they might procure food. But Rodríguez put them off with fair words and continued to run the coast in search of information. If the account is true, he must indeed have been a brave man of commanding personality to hold out against starving men

  in an age of violence. At any rate, he proceeded in ensuing days to make his observations as before. To satisfy their hunger, the Spaniards killed a dog they had with them, cooked him, and ate him, even to the very skin. This was on the 13th. On the 14th, they passed near Catalina Island, where two Indians came aboard and gave them ten or twelve fish and a seal. Rodríguez made them a present of some silk and woolen blankets, intimating to them, as best he could, that they

  should bring more food in exchange for these goods. The Indians went away and returned again, but brought nothing to eat. Nevertheless, the Spaniards were able this day to catch about 30 fish, all of which they ate. From there, they sailed to San Clemente Island, which they reached that night. Going toward the mainland again, on the 15th, they came to Point Loma and the San Diego Bay, which had been named, apparently on some previous voyage, the Bay of Pescadores, or

  fishermen. They did not stop, however, making a two-day run down the coast. On the 17th, they came to a large island, probably the one known today as San Martín Island, in 30 degrees, 29 minutes, near the Baja California coast. Footnote. Rodríguez described this island as running from northwest to southeast, eight or nine leagues long by four wide, and in 31 degrees, 15 minutes, at its northwestern point. The island seemed to have been known to Rodríguez before,

  and is referred to by him as San Agustín. The Spaniards now had neither food nor drink, so a party was landed to see what they could find. They brought back some bread, which the Indians of that place had cooked, made out of a root resembling the sweet potato, but this made the Spaniards sick when they ate it. Driven from the southern part of the island by a strong wind, they went to the northern end for shelter. Here they made a discovery which very probably saved

  their lives. As Rodríguez puts it, quote, We went on shore and found many wild onions and prickly pear trees, and likewise God willed that we should find a dead fish among the rocks, with two mortal wounds, and it was so large that the seventy of us sustained ourselves on it for more than a week, and if it had not been so large, we would have perished there of hunger. There was still no water, but here too the miracle occurred. God was pleased to send a wind that

  night which caused them to leave their anchorage and run down the island more than four leagues, where they entered a small but safe bay. There they found a stream of good water which descended from the mountains of the island. It was two days more before the wind died down sufficiently for them to return to the northern end. There they picked up some thirty companions who had been left there to roast the big fish and guard it. On December 22nd, having taken on board plenty

  of water and the remainder of the big fish, Rodríguez set sail in search of Seros Island. The sailors and passengers with him were now so sick and weak, some of them at the point of death, that Rodríguez acceded to their requests that he should no longer stop to make observations of the coast, which from this point on was quite well known to Spanish navigators anyway. So he hastened on as fast as possible, and on January 7th, 1596, came to anchor in the port

  of Navidad, New Spain. Here most of the men, Rodríguez among them, disembarked in order to restore their shattered health. The launch was dispatched under Juan de Morgana, one of Rodríguez's officers, with a crew of ten men to Acapulco, where it arrived on January 31st. Rodríguez made his way to Mexico City, at which place, on April 24th, 1596, he penned his official report. Unfortunately for the reputation of this mariner, there was an

  aftermath to the voyage. To the merchants of New Spain, and to a certain extent to the authorities, the outstanding fact was the loss of the Saint Augustine and its cargo, and proceedings were instituted to determine who was at fault. The officers endeavored to inculpate one another, and, furthermore, when Rodríguez and two others were questioned by the Viceroy about the discoveries along the Alta California coast, they did not agree in all particulars.

  In a letter to the King, dated April 19th, 1596, the Viceroy, the Conde de Monterrey, who had succeeded Velasco in 1595, expressed himself as follows, quote, To me there seems to be convincing proof, resting on clear inference, that some of the principal bays, where with greater reason it might be expected harbors would be found, they crossed from point to point and by night, while others they entered but a little way.

  For all this a strong incentive must have existed because of the hunger and illness they say they experienced, which would cause them to hasten on their voyage. Thus, I take it, as to this exploration the intention of Your Majesty had not been carried into effect. It is the general opinion that this enterprise should not be attempted on the return voyage from the islands and with a laden ship, but from this coast, and by constantly following along it, end quote.

  Thus did Rodriguez Sermeno fail of the glory to which he was entitled, and he was saved from oblivion only through the notoriety of having lost his ship. Yet, those who have read his report will recognize that he gave a very good description of the Alta California coast. It is almost always possible to tell just where he was from the account he gave, and this is something that cannot be said for some of the other more famous navigators. His voyage did have a real importance, however.

  As indicated in the Conde de Monterrey's letter cited above, the opinion became general that it would be better to explore the Californias by a voyage direct from New Spain, in boats of light drought, instead of relying upon the galleon for this purpose. This new idea was very soon to be acted upon. Footnote. For the Rodriguez-Sermeno voyage, transcripts in the Bancroft Library from the following documents of the Archivo General de Indias of Seville, Spain were used.

  1. 1595, November 30th, December 9th, Drakes Bay, Pedro de Lugo. Copy. Transcript 15 pages longhand, Legajo 58 312. Testimony taken by the notary, Lugo of Rodriguez, and others about the land at Drakes Bay and for three or four leagues inland. Dated, in Mexico, 1596. 2. 1596, January Navidad, Pedro de Lugo. Sworn testimony of Rodriguez before the notary,

  Lugo of his discoveries in the Californias from the first day that he sighted the coast until his arrival at Cerro's Island. Original. Transcript 16 pages typed. Legajo 58 312. 3. 1596, April 24th, Mexico, Sebastián Rodriguez-Sermeno. Original. Transcript 21 pages longhand, Legajo 58 316. These three documents tell much the same story, but they are not identical. Taken with other

  materials in the Bancroft Library, they should one day be the basis for a substantial thesis. Except for a brief and somewhat mistaken note in Richmond, they have never been utilized before. In addition, the documents and documentos cited in items 1 and 2 in the bibliographical note to the next chapter were used. End of footnote. End of chapter 10. End of chapter 10.

• 11 - Sebastián Vizcaíno

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  11. Sebastián Vizcayino Even before Rodríguez Sermeno had reached the end of his fateful voyage, there had appeared at Mexico City a rival for the glory and profit of making discoveries in the Californias, a man well acquainted with the galleon route, and indeed a shipmate of Rodríguez on the Santa Ana. This was a certain Sebastián Vizcayino, who, from being a moderately successful merchant,

  desired to convert himself into a conqueror and a general or commander of a fleet, the same Vizcayino who in later years headed the embassy to Japan, which has already been discussed. By his own account, he lost a great deal of treasure and commodities when Cavendish took the Santa Ana, but he made the round-trip to Manila again, reaching New Spain in 1590 with a profit of 2,500 ducats on an investment of 200.

  In a letter to his father, dated June 20, 1590, translated and published in The Principle Navigations, Voyages, Traffics, and Discoveries of the English Nation, edited by Richard Hacklute, Everyman Edition, Volume 7, London and New York, 1907. In company with several others, Vizcayino worked out a plan, which he hoped might prove an even richer windfall than that of the trade on the galleon. He and his associates approached

  the viceroy for a license to engage in pearl fishing in the Californias, in return for which they agreed to furnish the government with information about that country. In 1594, the viceroy, Luis de Velasco, made a contract with them, but execution was delayed as a result of a quarrel between members of the company. The matter was brought before the courts, which ordered Vizcayino and his companions to begin the voyage within three months'

  time. Matters were at this point when the Conde de Monterrey reached Mexico. Believing that a policy of leniency would best serve the royal interests, he amended the degree of the court and granted the company a concession to enter the Californias and reduce them, by peaceful means, to subjection to the crown. For this, the conquerors were to have the usual vast privileges and exemptions granted to the pacifiers and settlers of new provinces.

  Accordingly, Vizcayino, who had succeeded to the headship in the enterprise, had begun to raise recruits for the expedition when it was brought to the Conde de Monterrey's attention that the original contract, under which Vizcayino was acting, had reference only to the pearl fishery and not at all to the entry and pacification of the land. This gave Monterrey an opportunity to consider whether it was desirable to grant the concession

  he had promised. On this point, he wrote to the king on February 29, 1596, as follows, Quote, I found that a reconsideration was necessary. For, it seemed to me, with regard to the person, Vizcayino, his quality and capital are not sufficient in connection with an enterprise which may come to be of such vast importance, and one requiring greater backing and a method of proceeding other than what is now thought and deemed sufficient.

  For, even looking at the matter from the utilitarian point of view, although he make the journey at his own cost and without any expense to your majesty, it seems to be of little moment whether he goes for gain and in order not to lose the chance of good fortune, but of great importance the hazarding of not only the repute which would be lost among these nations of Indians if the natives of that country should repel this man and his people.

  But this is the principal thing involved, that of the conscience and authority of the royal person of your majesty. It appeared to me to be risking much if an expedition which cannot lawfully be one of direct conquest, but one of preaching the gospel and pacification, and of bringing the people into subjection to the crown, were entrusted to a man as leader in chief whose position is obscure and who has not even in less degree the resolution

  and capacity necessary for so great an enterprise." Despite his somewhat unfavorable opinion of Vizcayino, the viceroy decided, however, after taking counsel with the highest authorities in Mexico, that it would be contrary to justice not to let the expedition take place. As he put it, in the letter above referred to, quote, And because I have deemed it meet for the service of our lord and that of your majesty,

  inasmuch as it was necessary to go on with the affair since it had been begun, and as this man, Vizcayino, does not possess notorious defects which can rightfully excuse your majesty from aiding and fomenting his undertaking, in order that the persons he has enlisted and intends to put on board ship, and who in number and condition make a reasonably good showing, may esteem and respect him. I have done all that lay in my power to show

  him honor while here, and to clothe him with authority and view with a greater danger I foresee and fear on his account, though I would not say it to him, which is some lack of respect and an over-bold bearing on the part of the soldiers whom he takes with him, so that in this way they may come to disobey his orders, all this giving rise to great disorder." Vizcayino at least displayed energy, and in March 1596 his expedition got

  underway for the Californias. Three ships with a large number of men made up his force. As an indication of his intention to make a settlement, it is to be noted that he carried four Franciscans to convert the natives and reduce them to missions, some of the soldiers' wives, and a number of horses. In his voyage up the coast from Acapulco, he lost fifty men by desertion, and one of the friars, because of illness, left the expedition. Crossing

  to the lower end of Baja California, he came at length, apparently about the middle of August, to the site which Jimenez and Cortez had visited before him, and because the Indians received him so peacefully, he gave it the name which ever since it has retained, La Paz, or Peace. The winter storms of the Gulf of California, which had already begun, were such that he could proceed no farther with his flagship, so it was decided to establish

  a colony there while Vizcayino himself should push on in the two smaller vessels to explore the northern shores of the Gulf. Accordingly, Vizcayino started north on October 3. He encountered terrific storms, but weathered them, and at length came to a place where the Indians invited the Spaniards to come ashore. So, Vizcayino landed forty-five men. All went well until a Spanish soldier, quote, inconsiderately struck one of the Indians in the breast with

  a butt of his arquebus, end quote. In consequence, there was a fight in which some of the Indians were killed. As a boatload of Spaniards were returning to their ship, the Indians shot arrows at them from the shore. One man was hit in the nose, and this resulted in a commotion which led to the upsetting of the boat. Dressed as they were in heavy leather and armor, nineteen were drowned and only five escaped by swimming. In course of time, this event became magnified

  in the telling until it reached the proportions of a very pretty legend. The story was told that a certain Don Lope, a page of the viceroy, besought the hand of Doña Elvira. The latter at length promised to marry him, provided he could replace a certain magnificent pearl she had lost. Consequently, Don Lope joined Vizcayino's expedition. Going on the voyage up the gulf, he was one of the men who landed at the place where the battle with the Indians

  was fought, and was indeed the one who caused it. He saw the identical pearl which would suit Doña Elvira, and he seized it from the very lips of a chieftain's daughter. This not only brought on the battle, but also the enforced abandonment of the province. But Don Lope was well content, for he had won his bride, and then she confessed that she had not lost any pearl at all. Vizcayino put back to La Paz where he found that the colony

  was not maintaining itself too successfully. According to Franciscan writings, the Indians liked the friars, but objected to the soldiers, who paid scant attention to native customs and too much to native women. Furthermore, all were discouraged by the storms, which prevented their fishing for pearls, numerous indications of which had been found, and the food supply was running short. As the country was unsuited to provide for their wants, Vizcayino

  gave orders for the return to New Spain. On October 28, the colony was abandoned after an existence of about two months, and two of the ships sailed for New Spain. Vizcayino, the third ship with forty of his best men, made another effort, however, to explore the northern shores of the Gulf. Again he encountered heavy storms, and this time they were so severe that the rudder irons broke. Therefore, he and his men made the best of their way back

  to New Spain, God in pity conducting us, as he himself put it. Arrived in Mexico, he was eager to make a fresh expedition. They had failed, he said, merely because the voyage had been made at the wrong season. At a different time of the year, they might have avoided the storms, but this they could not have known before. He was full of praise for the Californias, though his own experience of them gave little

  warrant for his encomiums. There were innumerable Indians eager to receive the Gospel. The land was twice as large as New Spain, and in a better situation as concerned distance from the equator. Pearls were abundant and of excellent quality. The waters were richer in fish than any other known sea. There were great resources and salt deposits, and twenty days to the northwest there were, quote, towns of people wearing clothes and who have golden

  ornaments in the ears and nose, and they have silver, many cloaks of cotton, maize and provisions, and fowls of the country and of Castile, end quote. In case he should be allowed to make another expedition, he wished that the lands for the Indians upon them be granted to him and to his men, footnote. That is, an encomienda, as it was called, a familiar institution of Spanish colonial machinery, end footnote, and that they all be made nobles

  in one of the lower grades of nobility, caballeros, hijos d'algo, besides receiving grant of other assistance and favors. The Council of the Indies had already ordered in May 1596 that somebody other than Vizcaino be chosen to effect the conquest, intending this measure to apply to the expedition on which, in fact, he had already departed. But the Conde de Monterey was now more favorably disposed toward Vizcaino. He wrote of him that, quote,

  In addition to possessing a practical knowledge of the South Sea, Pacific Ocean, and being a man of even disposition, upright and of good intentions, he is of medium yet sufficient ability, although I had feared it was otherwise, for governing his people. And this is coupled with energy enough to make himself respected by them, end quote. As for the voyage, quote, The unfortunate ending was not due to incapacity on the part of Vizcaino, who, on the contrary,

  gave evidence of some ability and greater spirit than could have been expected from a mere trader engaged in the enterprise of this kind, end quote. The viceroy was not deceived by Vizcaino's glowing descriptions, but was inclined to believe, as indeed the circumstances warranted, that the pearl fisheries might prove rich. He therefore recommended that Vizcaino be assisted out of royal funds to make another expedition, but, quote, for

  the purpose merely of ascertaining definitely what there is there, in order that complete assurance be had concerning the value of the pearl fishery, and that greater light may be thrown on what relates to the defense and security of these realms and the ships which make the China voyage, end quote. Alluding to the voyage of Rodriguez Ceremeno in the wreck of the San Agustín, he said that people were now convinced that the proper way to

  explore the northern coasts of the Californias was not by a voyage from Manila in the heavily laden galleons, but by going direct from New Spain in boats of light drop. This exploration, he thought, should be conducted on one and the same enterprise with discoveries in the Gulf of California. The Council of the Indies, under the date of September 27, 1599, endorsed the viceroy's plan in the main, requesting that action be taken with all possible speed.

  They put great emphasis on the character of the men to be enlisted for the expedition, wishing to take precautions against arousing the hostility of the Indians, but ordered the explorations in the Gulf and those along Alta California coasts to be undertaken separately. Yet, the expedition was held back until 1602. One of the prime causes for delay was a fresh entry of foreign ships into the Pacific, wherefore it became necessary to seek them out with

  all forces Spain could command. This time it was the Dutch who caused the trouble. In 1598, two Dutch fleets left Europe and sailed through the Strait of Magellan into the Pacific, respectively in 1599 and 1600. One of these fleets, originally under Jacob Mahou and later under Simon de Cordes, did not in fact go very far north before making its way across the Pacific, but the other, under Oliver van Noort, made several captures off the west

  coast of South America and reached the region of the equator before turning west. Notices of these voyages early reached New Spain and rumors of foreign ships came in from all directions. Passengers on the San Jeronimo, the Manila Galleon, which reached Acapulco early in 1599, declared that they had seen four ships near Cerro Silent off the western coast of Baja California. But the Comte de Monterrey reported, no doubt with correctness, that more likely

  they mistook the clouds for ships. With the actual captures made by van Noort in 1600, Spanish fears were redoubled. One man, who had been a prisoner of van Noort's ship, declared that the Dutch had accounts of the voyage of Cavendish in their possession and that they planned, like him, to catch the Manila Galleon off Cape San Lucas. A Spanish fleet was therefore sent north from Peru under Juan de Velasca to look for van Noort, and

  in September 1600 it spent some days scouring the Baja California coast from La Paz to beyond Cape San Lucas. Finding no enemies, the Spaniards began to doubt their existence in those seas. As one of the captains, Hernando de Lugones, said, There is news of the enemy everywhere, but they are like phantoms which appear many places, whereas we find them in none. The immediate danger having in fact disappeared,

  preparations for the Vizcayino expedition could now be resumed. On March 18, 1602, formal instructions for the voyage were issued. These were set forth in great detail, but amounted substantially to what had been decided upon in 1597 and 1599 by the Viceroy and the Council of Indies. Vizcayino was ordered to make a thorough exploration of the coast from Cape San Lucas to Cape Mendocino, employing two ships of moderate size and a launch which could get near the coast

  for close-up observations. On no account was he to go inside the Gulf, unless perhaps in passing on the return journey. Indeed, in an earlier communication, dated March 2, 1602, the Viceroy informed him that he would incur the penalty of death if he disobeyed this particular. If weather permitted, he might continue his exploration beyond Cape Mendocino to Cape Blanco, but if the coast had a westward trend from Cape Mendocino, he was to go a hundred leagues only

  and not more. Footnote. It is interesting to note that the Spaniards already had some idea of the coast as far north as Cape Blanco, doubtless through voyages of the Manila Galleon. In footnote. Footnote. Emphasizing the fact that this was a voyage for exploration of the coast only, the Viceroy said that Vizcayino was not to stop for a thorough examination of any great bay he might find, beyond observing the entrance thereto and discovering shelter for shipping.

  In view of the interest in the Strait of Añan, this indeed manifested a desire to discover only so much as might surely be possible, rather than the pursuit of wild schemes. Furthermore, he was to make no settlements and was to take great pains to avoid conflicts with the Indians. No expense had been spared in providing for this expedition. The crews, about 200 men and all, were carefully selected, most of them being enlisted in Mexico City as both

  sailors and soldiers. There were three ships of better than usual quality. The San Diego, the flagship under which Vizcayino sailed as general of the expedition, the Santo Tomas under the Admiral Toribio Gómez de Cordovañ, a sailor of long experience in European service, and the launch, or frigate, Tres Reyes under Sebastián Meléndez, succeeded later by Martín de Aguilar. In addition, there was a longboat, but that was left behind at the lower end of Baja

  California, though picked up again on the return journey. An expert mapmaker was taken along in the person of Jerónimo Martínez de Palacios, who in fact performed his tasks most meritoriously. Footnote. The name Martínez appears in some documents as Martín. A series of maps, presumably by Martínez and beautifully done in colors, are to be found at the Arquivo General de Indias, Legajo 6437. Exact reproductions now exist in the Bancroft Library. In footnote.

  Several other officers and special counselors of the general went along, besides three Carmelite friars. One of the last named was a certain Father Antonio de la Ascensión, a former pilot, and also something of a cosmographer. His account of the voyage was, for many years, the best known of the original sources, though his diary is not now extant. Incidentally, the general was accompanied by his son. Provisions for 11 months were carried. On May 5, 1602, the expedition

  left Acapulco. Making his way up the coast, Vizcayuno crossed over to Cape San Lucas, requiring several days for the voyage, on account of the winds encountered. The voyage from the Bay of San Bernabé, near the Cape, in which he had cast anchor on June 11, to San Diego, may be passed quickly in review. It proved to be one of extreme difficulty, for headwinds were met with all the way. For example, the general was three times blown back

  to the port of San Bernabé before he could round the peninsula to northwestward, and one ship was obliged to return a fourth time. Some days, not a league was made, and tacking back and forth was always necessary. Frequently, the ships were separated, but managed to find one another again. One of the worst difficulties was in keeping up the water supply off the sterile west coast of the peninsula. It was not very fresh and it was green, said Vizcayuno of one standing pool of water,

  but the bottles we carried were filled with it. Always, however, a supply would be found, though absolute want often threatened. Nevertheless, careful explorations of the coast were made, and names were applied without much regard to those given by earlier voyagers. After a voyage of over four months from San Bernabé, from which he had succeeded in departing on July 5, Vizcayuno passed the line of what was later to become Alta California.

  Sunday, the tenth of the month, he said, we arrived at a port which must be the best to be found in all the South Sea, Pacific Ocean, protected on all sides and having good anchorage. Two days later, on November 12, the day of St. James, or San Diego, a mass was celebrated and the name San Diego, which it still bears, was given to the port, thus doing honor not only to the saint, but also to the general's flagship. Here, a stay of ten days was made to repair the

  ships and give crews a chance to recover from sickness. Leaving San Diego on November 20, Vizcayuno sighted Catalina Island on the 24th, the day of St. Catherine, or Santa Catalina, wherefor he gave it the name it has since retained, though he did not come to anchor there until the 27th. While there, an incident occurred that is worth mentioning. After relating a visit Vizcayuno made to the interior of the island, where he saw an Indian idol and, quote, placed the name

  of Jesus on the head of the demon, telling the Indians that it was good and from heaven, but that the idol was the devil, end quote. The diary of the voyage goes on to say, quote, the general returned to the pueblo and an Indian woman brought him two pieces of figured China silk in fragments, telling him that they had got them from people like ourselves who had Negroes, that they had come on the ship which was driven by a strong wind to the coast and wrecked,

  and that it was farther on. The general endeavored to take two or three Indians with him, that they might tell him where the ship had been lost, promising to give them clothes. The Indians consented and went with him to the captain's ship. But as we were weighing anchor preparatory to leaving, the Indians said they wished to go ahead in their canoe and that they did not wish to go aboard the ship, fearing that we would abduct them. And the general,

  in order not to excite them, said, very well, end quote. Apparently, this cayuno thought that some nearby wreck of an unknown ship was referred to. But the reader of the Rodriguez-Sermeno account will at once recognize the reference was to this visit there seven years before and that the San Augustine far to the north in Drake's Bay was the wrecked ship indicated. Going up to Santa Barbara Channel, so named by them, this cayuno and his men were harangued by an intelligent old

  chief who, quote, made himself so well understood by signs that he lacked nothing but ability to speak our language, end quote. He had come out in a boat to persuade them to stop this village and, quote, such were the efforts of this Indian to get us to go to it that as a greater inducement he said he would give to each one of us ten women, end quote. But as the wind was then behind them for the first time since leaving Acapulco and as winter was coming on, the Spaniards decided to

  continue on their course. Rounding point conception, which they so named, they sighted Santa Lucia Mountain, to which they also gave the name it still retains. Coming to a large bay, this cayuno sent the lodge ahead to explore it for a port, for this country was the most important of the exploration for the purposes of his majesty, because it was at this point that the Manila galleon would be most desirous of finding suitable anchorage. This was on December 15th.

  The report to the commander of the launch was favorable, and on the next day the fleet entered the bay to procure water and restore the sick, of whom there were many. They were now in Monterey Bay, which they so named in honor of the viceroy. Nearby, too, they discovered the Carmelo River and named it. The so-called discovery of the Bay of Monterey, so-called because Rodriguez Sermeno had seen this bay almost seven years to the day before Vizcayino did, was the capital event of

  the expedition. According to Vizcayino, We found ourselves to be in the best port that could be desired, for besides being sheltered from all the winds, it has many pines for masts and yards, and live oaks and white oaks, and water in great quantity, all near the shore. In his letters, too, he praised the port, In addition to being so well situated and point of latitude for that which his majesty intends to do

  for the protection and security of ships coming from the Philippines, the harbor is very secure against all winds. The land is thickly peopled by Indians and is very fertile in its climate and the quality of soil resembling castile." Footnote, Vizcayino to the King, Monterey, December 28, 1602. End footnote. And again, quote, It is all that can be desired for the commodiousness, and is a station for ships making a

  voyage to the Philippines, sailing whence they make a landfall on this coast. The port is sheltered from all winds, and if, after putting to sea, a storm be encountered, they, the Philippine ships, need not as formerly run for Japan where so many have been cast away and so much property lost." In these statements, Vizcayino was borne out by Cencion, who called it a fine port, and went on to say, quote, This is where the ships coming from the Philippines to New Spain

  come to reconnoiter. It is a good harbor, well sheltered, and supplied with water, wood, and good timber, end quote. The curious feature about these reports, and much more might be added to them, including references to the vast wealth and gold and silver that the Indians said was to be found in the interior, is that nearly all they had to say was true save for the yard about the excellence of Monterey as a sheltered port, but it was precisely

  this departure from strict accuracy that had the most effect. The legend of the port of Monterey became one of the moving factors for a century and a half in Spanish expansion to the northwest. At Monterey, the crews were landed, and a council was held to determine what the expedition should do. Owing to the unexpectedly long time required for the voyage thus far, more than seven months, the supplies were becoming exhausted. Some 45 or more of the men were sick with the scurvy,

  and several had died, 16 according to one account. It was decided that Admiral Gomez and the Santo Tomas should return at once to New Spain, taking with him those who were sickest, and also the reports of the voyage. On December 29th, therefore, Gomez started back and eventually made port, with a loss of 25 of the 34 men he had on board. The other two ships left for the north on January 3rd, 1603. On the 5th, they parted company in a storm and did not again see each other during

  the rest of the voyage. That same day, Vizcaino came to anchor outside the harbor at Drake's Bay, but was driven away the next morning by an offshore wind. Several of Vizcaino's men had been at Drake's Bay before, on the San Agustín, notably Francisco de Bolognas, the chief pilot of the San Diego, who recognized the bay as the place where Rodriguez had stopped. On the 12th, Vizcaino at last reached Cape Mendocino. Once, in accord with his instructions,

  he was at liberty to turn back. But the storms drove him somewhat farther to the north until January 21st, when he was able to start the return journey. Meanwhile, the intense cold and sickness of the men, of whom at one time, quote, there were only two sailors who could climb to the main top sail, unquote, had combined with the storms to produce great hardship. Quote, the pitching was so violent that it threw both sick and well from their beds and the general from his.

  He struck upon some boxes and broke his ribs with a heavy blow, end quote. The return voyage, however, was comparatively simple from the standpoint of the winds, for now they helped the ship along its course, whereas before they had been a constant hindrance. But the men were so sick with the scurvy and the provisions literally so rotten that it was a race with death. Yet some explorations of the coast were made to supplement what they had done on

  the northward voyage, but they did not dare to stop, lest they should be unable to get the anchor up again. Giving up the originally projected exploration of the Gulf of California, the general decided, quote, as the sick were dying of hunger because they could not eat what was on board the ship on account of their sore mouths, unquote, to run to the nearest point on the mainland. Coming to Mazatlán on February 18th, Vizcaino and the five men, who alone on the ship were

  able to walk, went ashore to look for help, quote. Without knowing the way, he traveled 13 leagues inland through the mountains and rugged places for the Pueblo of Mazatlán, unquote, but lost his way. Fortunately, he chanced upon a pack train and it was thus enabled to get help to his comrades. With rest and proper food, the men soon got well and took up the voyage to Acapulco, which they reached on March 21st. Meanwhile, the Tres Reyes had been driven north to Cape Blanco.

  By that time, Martín de Aguilar, the commander, and Antonio Flores, the pilot, had died, whereupon the boat swing, Esteban López, turned the boat around and sailed for New Spain, reaching Navidad on February 26th, 1603. Two men, besides the two officers, had died. The narrative of this voyage, as told by presumably ignorant boat swing, gave rise to one of the most fruitful of the Strait of Añon stories. Six leagues above Point Reyes, he said, they came upon

  a very, very great river from the southeast, evidently Tomales Bay. Farther north, quote, in 41 degrees, near Cape Mendocino, they found a very great bay into which there entered a mighty river from the northern shore. It runs with such strong current that, although they were a day struggling against it with the wind behind them, they could not enter it more than two leagues, end quote. Through what seems to have been a mistake of the Franciscan historian Torquemada,

  this was stated as in 43 degrees, the limit of the voyage, but the boat swing said it was near Cape Mendocino and at another place in its count intimated that it was below it. This agreed with the charts of the voyage, which entered Aguilar's River in 41 degrees and Cape Mendocino in 41 degrees 30 minutes. In course of time, this river became an almost transcontinental stream, or at least a great western sea in the imagination of the map makers. There seems to be nothing in the place

  indicated to correspond even remotely to the description. It is a temptation, however, to believe that the boat swing, relying upon memory, was confused in that humble bay which is near Cape Mendocino, though north of it, was the famous great bay discovered by Aguilar. In all events, both the San Diego and the Tres Reyes missed the real great bay with a powerful river, for they did not get sight of the Bay of San Francisco either coming or going.

  The voyage of this Cayeno had been a distinct success. Despite the great difficulties he had encountered, including the loss of from 42 to 48 men according to different estimates made, he had carried out to the full and thoroughly the orders of the Viceroy, though it had not been possible, owing to the storms and the sickness of the men, to explore the coasts above Monterrey so carefully as he had up to that point. Fortunately for his fame as a discoverer,

  two things occurred. The reports of his voyage became widely known and soon were embodied in printed works, and since the voyage was not followed up, the legend of Monterrey, to say nothing of Aguilar's river, was allowed to stand. The Conde de Monterrey now had nothing but words of praise for the erstwhile mere trader and appointed him to the lucrative post of commander of the next galleon bound for Manila. Suitable rewards were also given to others who had taken

  part in the expedition. It now becomes pertinent to inquire why the plan for the occupation of Monterrey, or at least its utilization as a port of refuge for the galleon, was given up. In 1603, shortly after Vizcaino's return, the Conde de Monterrey was succeeded as Viceroy by the Marqués de Montes Claros, who not only threw cold water on the plans of his predecessor, but also acted in a manner displaying either spite or else a desire for graft.

  In a letter to the king, dated October 28, 1605, he objected to the former Viceroy's having appointed Vizcaino as the commander of the galleon sailing from Acapulco in 1604, six months after Montes Claros himself should be in office. He had countermanded the order and made Vizcaino alcalde mayor, chief justice and mayor of Tehuantepec, which he stated was fully as much as he deserved. Later he claimed that Vizcaino had tried to bribe him to make him commander of the

  galleon, wherefore he dismissed him from the service. The fate of Martinez, the expert cartographer, was even worse. The Conde de Monterrey had given him a rich appointment on the galleon. Not only did Montes Claros deprive him of this, but also caused charges to be brought against him for forgery, and Martinez was condemned and hanged. These measures produced a distinctly unfavorable impression at court, and there were several royal decrees of 1606 whose combined

  purport was the following. Vizcaino was to be made general of the galleon leaving from Acapulco in 1607, and was to make a thorough survey of Monterrey on the return voyage, with a view to founding a settlement there. Upon his arrival in New Spain, he was to be given a number of colonists of the best type to take to Monterrey. These men were to be offered such inducements as might seem to be necessary, presumably lands with the Indians in bondage, and a considerable sum of money out of

  the royal treasury was to be provided for the enterprise. Montes Claros now found a new way to evade the issue. The galleon of 1607 had sailed before the king's orders came, he wrote in May 23, 1607, and Vizcaino himself had gone to Spain. It was true that there ought to be a port of refuge for the galleon, but it should be nearer Japan, for it was from the Philippines to just beyond Japan that the worst storms were encountered. When the galleon reached the Californias, the voyage

  was nearly over, for it required only 25 to 30 days to run down the coast to Acapulco, with a favoring wind, too, to help the ship on its way. The best thing to do would be to find the two islands, called Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata in 34 to 35 degrees, somewhere far to the west of Monterey. This revived an old story of uncertain origin. At some time in 1584 to 1585, when Pedro de Moya was viceroy, a letter was addressed to him by a certain Father Andrés de Aguirre. Aguirre said

  that he was with Urdaneta in 1565, when that sailor friar established the Manila galleon service, and that Urdaneta showed him a copy of a document about certain rich islands in the Pacific. Strange as was the account of Father Aguirre, it is worth inserting, for it was this tale, used by Montesgaros, that changed the course of California history. As Aguirre remembered it, the gist of the story was as follows. A Portuguese ship sailed from Malacca for

  the islands of Japan and at the city of Canton took aboard Chinese goods. Arriving within sight of Japan, she encountered a storm coming from the west, so severe that it was impossible to fetch those islands and she ran before it under very little sail for eight days, the weather being very thick and no land having been seen. On the ninth day, the storm was spent and the weather cleared, and they made two large islands. They reached one of these at a good port, well peopled,

  there being a great city surrounded by a good stone wall. There were many large and medium-sized vessels in port. Immediately on their entering the harbor, they're flocked to the ship a great number of persons, well dressed and cared for and manifesting much affection for the people of the ship. The lord of that island and city, learning that they were merchants, sent to the captain of the ship to say that he and those of his people he might select should come ashore without any fear

  that they would do them harm. On the contrary, he assured them, they should be received well, and he requested that they should bring with them the manifest of the goods the ship brought, for they would take them and trade for them to their content. The captain communicated this to his people, and it was resolved that the notary of the ship should be sent ashore with a manifest and two merchants, one a Portuguese and the other an Armenian,

  residents of Malacca. The lord of the land received them in his house, which was large and well built, and treated them with affection, making them presents, they understanding one another by signs. The land was very rich in silver and other things, silk and clothing. The notary and the Portuguese merchant returned to the ship in order to land merchandise and store it in a building which was assigned to them for that purpose, while the Armenian remained with the lord of the land and

  was treated very hospitably. The merchandise having been taken ashore, and a vast number of persons coming to purchase it, bringing a great quantity of silver, it came to pass that in some 30 days they sold all the goods making great gains so that all became very rich, and they loaded the ship with silver. During the time that they were on the island, they learned that the lord was suzerain of another island also, which was within sight four leagues away, and of others which were

  near to these all being rich in silver and very populous. The people is white and well formed, well cared for, and clothed in silk and fine clothing of cotton. An affectionate and very affable people. The language differs from that of Chinese as well as that of the Japanese, and is readily learned, for in less than 40 days that the Portuguese passed on the island, they were able to converse with the natives. These islands abound in the means of maintaining

  life well. Rice, which is the bread they use, fowls like ours in great number, tame ducks and many hogs, goats, buffaloes and deer, and wild boars in great abundance, various birds and game and fishes, many and good, and a great plenty of many kinds of fruit. The climate of the land is very good and healthy. These islands are in from 35 to 40 degrees. The difference in longitude between them and Japan cannot be arrived at because they had run before the gale and the

  weather was very thick and obscure. They ran from Japan to the eastward, and having disposed of their merchandise, they returned to Malacca. They named these islands out of regard for the Armenian merchant who was greatly respected by the people of the ship Isles of the Armenian. These were the islands which, as Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata, Montes claros now proposed to find. Shortly afterward, August 4, 1607, he brought his guns to bear on the project for a settlement at

  Monterey. This time he used a plea which rarely failed, whatever the angle from which it was introduced, that of foreign danger. The greatest strength of the royal dominions in the Pacific was that the difficulty the king's enemies had in getting there or in remaining after they arrived. It was on that account that they had been so desirous of finding a strait above Cape Mendocino. To settle Monterey, therefore, would endanger the Spanish empire, for it might serve as a port

  where enemies as well as Spaniards could refit and procure supplies. And he had already pointed out that Monterey was not necessary for the galleon. Well, in addition, it was too far away from New Spain to be armed against impending dangers. The ideas of Montes claros bore fruit. The council of the indies gave up the plan for a colony at Monterey and diverted the funds to a wild goose chase for the two mysterious islands. The story of Vizcaino's voyage of 1611 to 1612 was a

  Vizcaino's voyage of 1611 to 1613 to Japan and of his fruitless search for the two islands has already been told. Meanwhile, Alta California was saved for over 150 years in the blissful obscurity it needed if the English colonists who were just making their first successful settlements along the Atlantic coast were ever to have their opportunity to acquire the golden area on the Pacific. Out of it all, Vizcaino retained his fame as the discoverer of the wonderful port of

  Monterey, though neither was he the discoverer nor was the port wonderful. But he lost his chance to become the California portola, as Ascension perhaps, it's Sarah. Yet, despite his over enthusiastic exaggeration, he had played the part of a thorough going man. Footnote. Such a vast body of materials on Vizcaino has been uncovered in recent years that the career of this important figure in California history ought to be made the subject of a doctoral thesis.

  Several transcripts in the Bancroft Library from the documents in the Arquivo General de Indias of Seville, Spain have been used in the preparation of this chapter, though the following items were more particularly relied upon. One. Documents from the Sutro Collection, originally in Spanish and translated and edited by George Butler Griffin, in Historical Society of Southern California, Publications Volume 2, Part 1, Los Angeles 1891. 15 of the 19 documents range in date from 1584

  to 1603. Five of them were made use of in the preceding chapter and the other ten here. Two. Documentos referentes al recosamiento de las costas de las Californias desde el Cabo de San Lucas al de Menacino, edited by Francisco Carrasco y Guiso Sola, Madrid 1882. This contains 44 documents ranging in date from 1584 to 1609. Many of the more important appear in item one above. Some of the others were also used. Three. Spanish Exploration in the Southwest,

  1542 to 1706, translated and edited by Herbert Eugene Bolton, New York, 1916, in Original Narratives of Early American History series. This contains a translation into English of a diary attributed to Vizcaino of the 1602-1603 voyage and of the relation written in 1620 by Father Asuncion, a member of the same expedition. Four. Torquemada Juan de Primera, Segunda, Tercera Parte de los 21 Libros Rituales de Monarquía Indiana, Volume 1, Madrid 1793.

  This account is the one that has, heretofore, been almost the only source for material about Vizcaino. It has some facts not appearing elsewhere. End of footnote. End of chapter 11.

• 12 - The Overland Advance to the California Border, 1521-1687

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  CHAPTER XII. THE OVERLAND ADVANCE TO THE CALIFORNIA BORDER, 1521-1687. The general factors governing early California history insofar as they bear upon European approaches by sea have now been set forth in such detail that it is possible to condense the material of this kind for the period elapsing between the end of Vizcayino's efforts

  and the Portola expedition of 1769. The difficulties of getting a foothold through expeditions by sea have been illustrated by the experiences of Cortes, Rodriguez Cabrillo, Drake, Rodrigo Sarameno, Vizcayino, and others. It is time, therefore, that more attention be paid to the problems of overland conquest toward the Californias as they involve the principal element of success in the project of occupying the Californias, that of an advancing base of supplies.

  As has already been pointed out, the definitive occupation of Mexico City by Cortes in 1521 marked the establishment of a base of operations, whence the Spaniards were to proceed to the effective conquest of New Spain. The region between Mexico City and Panama was soon taken over. For both points served as bases, and the Indians were comparatively unwarlike. Distances were not great, and the continent was

  narrow and therefore easily overrun, though here as elsewhere the infiltration of Spanish civilization as distinguished from mere dominance of the military and the religious was a long and time requiring process. To the north, the problems were infinitely greater. The land widened, and geographical barriers became more serious. The area was greater than the resources of Spain could hope to reduce. The Indians were less nearly civilized and more difficult to overcome.

  And the competition of the English, French, and Russians made itself more manifest. For a number of years, after 1521, Spain showed small concern over the greatness of her task. She made conquests in the New World for the ready-made wealth she found there, and no distance was too great for her intrepid adventurers to go, if only there were a prospect of riches. This was the age, therefore, of the aggressive,

  aggressive, of conquests for the sake of what they would yield. From the time of Drake in 1579, however, Spain began to show the caution and conservatism of the property owner. The adventurers had in the main settled down. They now had vast estates with Indians and servitude upon them, that is, encomiendas, and they procured financial returns by the slower means of mining, stock-raising, agriculture, and commerce,

  rather than by plunder. These men wanted security, and the government, which profited in the same ratio that they did, wanted it also. Off on the frontiers were men of the old stamp, the conquistadores, or conquerors, but they were held in leash, lest they endanger the settled wealth of the already subjected territories. Now and then, they were allowed to go ahead in pursuit of some definite and reasonably safe advantage, or to ward off a threatened peril. The long period

  of the aggressive defensive had begun, of occasional conquests, that is, the better to ensure what Spain already possessed. Northward expansion from Mexico City may be said to have followed three principal lines, north-westward to Sonora and the Californias, up the central plateau through Nueva Vizcaya, about coextancy with the present-day states of Durango and Chihuahua, to New Mexico, and, similarly, but branching off to run through Coahuila into Texas.

  A fourth line, basing in early days on Tampico and later on Mexico City and Queretaro, ran to Nuevo León and Nuevo Santander, or Tamulipas, and slightly into Texas. This was hardly so important as the others. It was the first of these routes that concerned itself more particularly with the history of California. But yet, all four were closely related. So much so that the events along the eastern lines of advance had a vital connection with that which

  led to the Californias. All went ahead at relatively the same rate of progress, except the much shorter fourth movement. Military and exploring expeditions made side trips that crossed different lines of advance. All were related by the problem of Indian warfare, especially against the Apaches, who were wont to appear in all sections, often going from one to another according as resistance to their raids was strong or weak. All were threatened by foreign

  aggressions from the northeast, for the Colorado River of the west was believed to be the route making the western provinces almost as accessible to the French or English as those in the east. Some or all of the regions on the four lines of advance were at different times under the same political rule, or served as a field for the same body religious, or were part of the same diocese. Finally, all of these regions had much the same internal problems,

  political, economic, and social, and all were under the viceroy or, in the latest period, under the commandant general of the frontier provinces. Before proceeding to a consideration of northwestward advance, it is worthwhile to give an idea of the sweep of the other lines of conquest. Naturally, the line of advance through Nueva Vizcaya to New Mexico was most closely related, because nearest, to the movement

  through Sonora. The same Indian wars often affected both. The Jesuits were in western Nueva Vizcaya as well as in Sinaloa and Sonora until 1767. Sinaloa and Sonora were included in the government of Nueva Vizcaya until 1734, and formed part of the same diocese under the bishop of Durango until 1779, when a bishopric was created for Sinaloa, Sonora, and the Californias. The first great name in the history of Nueva Vizcaya is that of Francisco de Ibarra, who set

  up a government there in the middle of the 16th century. By the end of that century, the line of settlement had reached southern Chihuahua. Next, there was a gap beyond which lay New Mexico, settled by Oñate Expedition of 1598. By the close of the 17th century, the line of settlement had approached or reached the Rio Grande. For example, the Presidios of Pasaje, Gayo, Conchos, Llanos, and Casas Grandes were already in existence. In the 18th century, there were

  many changes in Presidial sites, the general movement being to suppress the more southerly Presidios and establish new ones toward the Rio Grande. Similarly, the missions advanced, and the region behind them was gradually yielded over to the secular clergy. In 1767, according to statistics compiled by Bishop Tamarón, Nueva Vizcaya had a Christian population of 120,000, divided evenly between Chihuahua and Durango, its northern and southern

  divisions. But while Durango had 46,000 civilized people, there were but 23,000 in Chihuahua. Footnote. The term civilized people is used for what Spaniards called gente de razón, including those of white or mixed blood or even Negroes. In fine, all but the Indians were included. In footnote. Meanwhile, New Mexico had enjoyed great prosperity until 1680, when all was destroyed by an Indian revolt and the land was not reconquered until over a decade

  later. By the end of the 18th century, there may have been 20,000 civilized people in the province and 10,000 Christian Indians. Along the Coahuila line, Aras and Saltillo in southern Coahuila were occupied by the end of the 16th century, although these two settlements were under the government of Nueva Vizcaya until 1785. Coahuila never enjoyed striking prosperity. By the close of the 17th century, Monclova was the most northerly presidio, while the missions had

  passed on to the Rio Grande. Early in the 18th century, the presidios reached that river. The total Christian population of Coahuila in 1780 was about 8,000, of whom 2,000 were Indians. The addition of Saltillo and Aras in 1785 doubled the population. The most interesting portion of this line was the Texas extremity. In the 16th century, there were voyages along the coast and overland incursions from New Mexico and even from Florida, but no settlements. Between 1685

  and 1688, La Salle made a disastrous attempt to found a French colony on Matagora Bay. This incident, joined to tales of fabulous wealth in the land of the Tejas in eastern Texas, induced the Spaniards to send an expedition in 1689 under Governor León of Coahuila, which in the next few years led to the establishing of missions east of the Trinity. These failed, but on the renewal of French activities, this time from the Mobile District,

  several missions and a presidio were founded in eastern Texas in 1716. In 1718, establishments were made at San Antonio, and the Texas boundary was moved westward from the Trinity River to the San Antonio on the borders of Coahuila. In 1721, a presidio was placed near the coast at Espiritu Santo, and the eastern settlements, which had been destroyed by the French, were reestablished and strengthened. Between 1745 and 1763, several new posts were founded, notably in northern Texas,

  but the northernmost of these, on the San Gabriel and Sansaba Rivers, were soon abandoned. By the cession of Louisiana to Spain in 1762, the French peril, the dominating note in Texas history up to that time, was removed, and the eastern settlements were given up. In a few years, however, many of the Spanish settlers returned to eastern Texas. In 1782, there were only 2,600 civilized people in Texas and 460 Christian Indians. The beginnings of Nuevo León date

  from its colonization by Carabajal late in the 16th century. Nothing else occurred that need be noted here until 1748, when Escondón, coming from Querétaro, achieved an almost bloodless conquest of Nuevo Santander. His work was remarkable for the number of settlements formed by him, rendering the conquest as thorough as it had been quick and peaceful. Unruly Indians were soon conquered or went elsewhere, and this part of the frontier enjoyed

  unusual prosperity. The first great conqueror, after Cortes, along the line leading northwestward to Primaría Alta, as the region beyond the Altar River was called, and the Californias, was Nuno de Guzmán. In 1529, he set out from Mexico City with an army of 500 Spaniards and perhaps 10,000 native allies, and by 1531 had passed through Jalisco to Sinaloa, reducing the country along his line of march. At one stroke, over half the territory between

  Mexico City and Alta California had been traversed and made known to the Spaniards, and much of it remained definitively conquered. In 1540 came the great expedition of Vasquez de Coronado in search of the seven cities in the kingdom of Quivira, induced by the already mentioned wanderings of Alvar, Núñez, Cabeza de Vaca, and the journey of exploration by Marcos de Niza. Vasquez led an army through Sonora to New Mexico, and from there to Kansas, returning to

  New Spain in 1542. It was as a part of this expedition that Melcord Diaz marched through Sonora to the Colorado River. Indeed, he crossed that river and thereby entered the Californias, though several miles below the Alta California line, it would seem. Failing to find the party of Alarcon, which had come about to the same point by sea, the Diaz expedition returned. Great overland expeditions to the northwest, aside from the journeys of individuals,

  now ceased for over two centuries, though they continued periodically along the northward lines of advance to the east. One of these expeditions, that of Oñate, who conquered New Mexico in 1598, had ramifications which took it to the Colorado River. This occurred in 1604-1605, when Oñate marched westward along Bill Williams Fork to the Colorado, and descended the latter to its mouth, after which he returned to New Mexico. With the expedition of Oñate to the mouth

  of the Colorado, the age of the Conquistadores along the northwestward line of advance may be said to have closed. Cortes, Guzmán, Vasquez, and Oñate had led expeditions which made a permanent conquest of large areas and developed a preliminary knowledge of nearly the whole field subsequently occupied, though Oñate's principal achievements were more directly in line with the advance through Nueva Vizcaya to New Mexico. These men were followed, perhaps in the wake of other

  expeditions of lesser note, or sometimes preceding them, by soldiers, missionaries, and civilians, all of Spanish blood in part at least. The majority of the civilians were miners, though a number were also engaged in stock raising and other pursuits characteristic of frontier life. This was a second phase of the conquest. Eventually, in a portion of the field, there came a third phase, when settled orderly government appeared, the military and the religious

  moved on, the secular clergy replaced the regular, and civilians entered in greater numbers and engaged in a greater variety of occupations than before. This was the final stage, when the particular region ceased to partake of the attributes of a frontier province. In all three stages, the Spanish elements were a very small minority, but provided the ruling class. The mass of the people was, from first to last, Indian. Some of the Indians resisted the Spaniards and

  were driven away or killed, but usually they submitted to their conquerors and, though strictly ruled and virtually enslaved, were permitted to remain. It is pertinent at this point to inquire into the precise services rendered by the three great Spanish elements in the conquest, the military, the religious, and the civilians. Of the three, perhaps the most vitally essential element was the military, for without its aid, neither of the other elements could proceed very far, even though

  the two latter contributed most to the eventual pacification and subtle development of a region. The number of soldiers was always small, but their presence in the first and second stages of conquest was a scenic one known of the Spanish occupation. Their expeditions into the unoccupied territory, whether for punitive objects or for purposes of exploration, were the most important preliminaries of the conquest. Even in the frequent journeys of missionaries into the interior,

  soldiers were usually taken along as a more or less indispensable escort. Once occupation of a region had taken place, a presidial force of forty or fifty men was a sufficient garrison for a wide area, so superior were they in fighting equipment and military methods to the natives, however brave the Indians might be. A mission guard of from one to five or six soldiers also served to keep hundreds of mission Indians, or even a thousand in check, while without this

  military support the missions could not be sustained. To a certain extent, too, the military contributed to the economic development through the great presidial stock farms, but these were in no small degree more a hindrance than a help. Indian trouble, too, often became an asset of the presidial capitalist, who might thereby rid himself of the competition of civilian rivals while utilizing the troops to protect his own stock. Second only to the military, as an agency

  in the subjection of the Indians, and much more prominent as a constructive social and economic factor, were the religious and the missionary orders. Franciscans, Dominicans, and Jesuits were the orders which had a share in northwestward advance in the conversion of the Californians, but for nearly two centuries the Jesuits were by far the most important. Neither the missionary orders nor the secular arm of the Church acted on their own initiative, for the Church in the

  Americas was almost as completely subordinate to the King of Spain as the military were. By the institution known as the Patronato Real, or the Royal Patronage, the King had received from the papacy the entire secular administration of the Church in the American colonies. It was the King, or his subdelegates, who appointed Church dignitaries and lesser functionaries from archbishop down to priest or friar, made provisions for their salaries, built their churches, approved or ordered

  their policies, and paid the score. The missionary was a direct royal agent. Not a mission could be founded or a missionary go to the frontier without the assent to the royal authorities, and indeed the religious were sometimes thrust into an enterprise, as, for example, the occupation of Alta California, of which more later, against their pronounced objections. Usually, however, missionary zeal outran the royal will for their employment, for missionaries and missions involved

  expenditures and the government was none too lavish with its funds unless it could see a likelihood of advantageous returns. Naturally, the Patronato Real did not include a right to intervene in the realm of the spiritual, but there was little else which the popes reserved. The missionaries accompanied the troops in the first two stages of the conquest. They went with them on their military expeditions or even preceded them into new territory on

  journeys of exploration, though, as already stated, they were usually attended by a small escort of soldiers. The principal functions of the religious, however, came in the second stage of the conquest through the institution of the mission. The mission system employed by the Spaniards was much the same in all their dominions, in Alta California, at a later time, as elsewhere, being subject to the same laws and the same body of officials. The principal objects,

  as stated by the laws, were to convert the natives and lift them out of their savagery and barbarism to a state of civilization. These were indeed the primary objects of the missionaries themselves, but they were secondary to other factors in the attention of the royal government. The mission was an effective support of the troops in keeping the Indians of a particular region in subjection, and in this way contributed, through the security it gave, to the protection of

  the royal domain from other Indians and from foreigners beyond the frontier. Thus, it assisted in actual conquests and much more cheaply than the soldiers necessary to take their place would have cost. Ultimately, too, the Indians would become a source of profit to the crowd, for those who had submitted to Spanish authority were required by law to pay an annual tribute, though this was remitted for the Indians still in missions. A mission was founded through a process of

  voluntary conversion by gathering the Indians of a community or limited region into a reduction, reducción, or mission village. No Spaniards, other than the missionaries, the mission guard, and an occasional civilian official could stop at the mission or reside there. Persuasion, usually through the accompaniment of gifts of food, clothing, and tobacco, or trinkets, which appealed to the childlike fancy of the natives,

  was generally employed to induce acceptance by the Indians of the mission idea. Once they entered the mission, however, there was no legal escape for them until such time as the royal government should give them their release, and emancipation meant taxation in the shape of the annual tribute. The salaries of missionaries and a certain initial sum were provided at state expense, besides military protection, but the mission was supposed to

  procure all else that it needed by means of its own industry or through the gifts of pious individuals. Usually there were two religious at a mission and a corporal at the head of four or five soldiers, but at times a single missionary and fewer troops were employed. Beyond the limits of the mission proper, but within a day or two's journey at the farthest, there were Pueblos de Vecita, villages of visit, or Vecitas, where the missionaries went

  occasionally to perform religious services. In the Vecitas there was a representative, the missionary, and the person of the Indian master of doctrine. But in other respects, the Vecita Indians retained their liberty. On the other hand, they did not share in economic benefits, such as a receipt of tobacco, food, and clothing, to the same extent as the Indians of the mission. Except for a certain amount of independence on

  the part of the military escort, which, however, was in most respect under the orders of the religious, the missionaries were like absolute monarchs in their narrow realm. Subject only to their superiors in the religious and political hierarchy, they were the spiritual and political and even economic masters of the mission. In theory, the mission belonged to the Indians who owned it in common, but it was administered under the direction of the missionaries, whose

  word was law. The Indians, indeed, elected their own petty political officers, but the missionaries, in fact, decided for whom they should vote. There could be no question but that the missionaries were devoted to the welfare of the Indian, but it seemed to them necessary, if his soul were to be saved and his intelligence quickened, that his body should first be enslaved. The spiritual training of the Indians resolved itself into learning the catechism and the vocabulary or outward forms and

  ceremonies of religious services. It was hardly possible for his undeveloped mind to grasp the philosophical tenets of the Christian faith. Services were frequently held, perhaps two masses a day on weekdays and more on Sundays, at all of which attendance was compulsory. The Indian was also required to work. The men tended flocks or engaged in agriculture, while the women and children were taught weaving and spinning. Indeed, there was an extraordinary variety of tasks

  performed, for the missions were intended to be economically self-sustaining. Not infrequently, they produced a surplus which might be applied to assist more backward missions. Discipline was strict and severe. Native officials inflicted whippings or other penalties upon the recalcitrant by order of the missionaries, but the more serious offenses were turned over for punishment to the corporal of the guard. Unaccustomed either to working or to submission to discipline,

  the Indians often endeavored to run away, but they were pursued and brought back. To lessen the opportunity of escape, walls were constructed around the mission, and the Indians were locked up at night. All in all, the institution of the Spanish mission was one of the most interesting examples of benevolent despotism that human history records. By law, a mission was supposed to endure for a period of not longer than 10 years,

  but in practice the term was much longer, even a century or more. In fact, the end of mission rule depended more upon civilian colonization of a region than upon the instruction afforded in the mission. When a region had filled up with whites sufficiently to be safe for the crown, the mission might be dispensed with. The objects of the missionaries, benevolent though they were, were foredoomed to failure, for the Indians were rarely capable of absorbing civilization

  in any real sense of the term. Indeed, the close of mission rule usually saw the Indian revert to his former state if he were not killed off by the white men. The missions at least prolonged the lives of many of the Indians. Its real importance, however, was as an agency of Spanish conquest. In this respect, its effects were permanent. Footnote. The best presentation of the mission system in brief scope ever written is that of Herbert E. Bolton, the mission as a frontier

  institution in the Spanish-American colonies in American Historical Review 23. In footnote. The civilian whites, including as white all elements of the gente de razón, began to make themselves felt in the second stage of the conquest, and no conquest was complete until they had taken it over in the third stage as the controlling element. The history of their activities, while a given region was still in a frontier state, has never been adequately presented

  or even much studied. Most that we know of them has been derived from the works of the religious, who were primarily concerned with their own achievements and not interested in the civilian element except as they found occasion to pronounce against them. Footnote. Much information should result from a perusal of official correspondence, which is available in stupendous quantity in the archives of Spain and Spanish America. The best materials, however, such as the letters and

  business records of private individuals have probably, nearly all of them, disappeared in footnote. Unquestionably, the most important of the civilians along the north-westward line of conquest were the miners. Indeed, the route of the conquerors followed that of the mineral wealth and precious metals. These men generally did the work by means of Indian labor in a state of virtual slavery. Traders, stock raisers, and farmers came in to some extent, but the two latter were at a

  disadvantage, for they had to meet the competition of procedural and mission ranches. As already stated, the civilians took entire possession when it became time for the military and the religious to move on. With a civilian element should be included the secular church, with its hierarchy of officialdom ranging from the archbishop or bishop down to the curate or priest. The secular church entered a region only in the third stage of conquest, and sometimes rather

  late at that. When this arm of the church arrived, it was time for the soldier, missionary, and civilian pioneer to depart. Indeed, the friars were often obliged to serve as curates after the mission had disappeared before the secular church came on the scene. The crucial stage, the conquest then, was the second, and this was the period when the greatest variety of widely differing elements came into play. These elements, to be sure, were controlled by the same fountainhead, the king,

  acting through his council of the indies and the viceroy, but they were rarely able to work together in entire harmony. In particular, the military and the civilians were constantly disputing with the religious. Questions of jurisdiction and relative authority were always to the fore as between the military and the religious. Political rule was invariably given in the charge of the former, but in some respects, the missionaries were not subject to them. The civilians were opposed to

  the religious on economic grounds. The missionaries had been first on the scene and had therefore had the first pick of the lands. The civilians wanted the mission lands and the Indian labor upon them. Arguments frequently turned on other matters than those which were, in fact, uppermost in the minds of the parties to the conflict. The civilians, for example, accused the religious of ill-treating the Indians and of retaining the missions much longer than was necessary. As for the Indians,

  who were, after all, a person's most vitally concerned, the restraints and punishments of the mission were indeed irksome to them, wherefore many, with their minds on the objectionable thing nearest at hand, supplied evidence to the civilians. Perhaps the majority realized, however, that their lot under civilian control would be far worse, and it is no doubt true that a great many were devoted to the missionaries and content with mission life to which in the course

  of time they became accustomed. It is to be borne in mind that the general conditions of what has been termed here the second stage of the Spanish conquests applied in the case of Alta California under Spain and Mexico, just as it did to Nueva Galicia, the name of Guzmán's conquests, and Sinaloa and Sonora in the period under review. Coming now to the details, the age of the conquistadores along the northwestward line was quickly over, and the work of conquest in its

  second and third phases came steadily to the fore. Guzmán founded the settlement as far north as Culiacán, Sinaloa in 1531. By 1550, an audencia for the government of Nueva Galicia was established, but this was located for a time at Compostela, but soon afterward moved to Guadalajara. López de Velasca, writing between 1571 and 1574, said there were as many as 1500 Spaniards in Nueva Galicia, which at that time included most of New Spain north of Mexico City. There were 31 or 32

  settlements, of which 15 or 16 were mining camps, Guadalajara was the largest town with a Spanish population of 150. The only settlement in what later became Sinaloa was Culiacán, with about 30 Spaniards. There were no Spaniards in Sonora. An increase in the population of Sinaloa came in 1596, when the Presidio of San Felipe de Sinaloa, the first in that province, was established, with a garrison of 25 men. Meanwhile, the Franciscans, Dominicans and Jesuits had been

  making converts, so that the region south of Sinaloa had become Christian, nominally at least, by the end of the 16th century, and, after some feudal revolts, it was definitely reduced to the Spanish crown. The erection of a bishopric in Michoacán in 1537 may be regarded as a first step in the third phase of the conquest. So, despite the scant white population of Nueva Galicia, that part of it, lying south of Sinaloa,

  was fast losing the characteristics of a frontier province. Up to 1591, not many conversions had been made in Sinaloa. But in that year, the Jesuits reached there, and the real work began. Father Zabata's report of 1678 shows that by that time, Sinaloa had been thoroughly reduced. The province had been Christianized, and had a white population of 600. In addition, there were many more of part Spanish blood. At San Felipe de Sinaloa alone,

  there were 1200 of Spanish or mixed blood. These missionaries and civilians were supported by two procedios, Fuerte de Montes claros having been added in 1610. The occupation of Sinaloa did not begin until early in the 17th century, with the successful military campaigns of Diego Martinez Juaraide paving the way. The Jesuits took charge of the mission work and made rapid progress. By 1678, there were 28 missions in Sinaloa, serving 22 villages with a combined population

  of about 40,000. There were, perhaps, 500 people of Spanish or part Spanish blood. A large proportion of them engaged in mining. Thus, by the end of the 17th century, Sinaloa had attained to the comparative freedom from frontier characteristics that the region to the south of it had reached 100 years before. The latter was now definitely off the frontier. Sonora, however, was in the midst of the second stage of conquest, and had such problems in the

  shape of hostile Indians that its early emergence into a settled state could not be expected. Indeed, events were to prove that it was much more than a century behind Sinaloa in this respect. By the close of the 17th century, the conquest had been carried almost to the limits of modern Sonora by way of the Sonora Valley. This route led the Spaniards somewhat inland, leaving a large stretch of coast to the south and west as yet unoccupied. In this district were the Seri Indians

  destined to cause trouble during the greater part of the 18th century. Northeast of the Sonora Valley was a little-known region whence was to come an even more terrible enemy, the savage Apaches. Due to the hostility of these two peoples, Sonora was fated to remain a frontier province. Until near the close of the 17th century, another district of Sonora, offering less difficulties than the other two, though by no means an easy field for conquest, lay open.

  This was the region between the Altair and the Gila rivers, known as Primaria Alta, beyond which, to the northwest, was Alta California. In 1687, Father Eusebio Quinoa the Jesuit order crossed the Altair river and founded the mission of Dolores. This marked the first step in the last stage of the conquest toward the Californias, but the difficulties in the way of this further advance were perhaps greater than any which had

  yet been faced. End of chapter 12

• 13 - Sea Approaches from New Spain to California, 1615-1697

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  CHAPTER XIII. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. CHAPTER XIII. SEA APPROACHES FROM NEW SPAIN TO CALIFORNIA, 1615-1697. While the Spaniards were slowly but surely advancing toward Alta California by the overland route, which led through Sonora, they did not give up their efforts to reach that much desired land by the sea. The recommendations of Montesclaros against the settlement there

  were not permanently influential, especially after Vizcaino's failure to find Rica de Oro and Rica de Plata as a substitute. Nevertheless, his stand in the matter had come at a crucial stage in imperial history, since Spain was not so well able for 150 years to carry out the plans of Vizcaino and the Conde de Monterrey as she had been at the time when Montesclaros nipped their projects in the bud. Spain, in the 17th century, was a declining power without resources

  for extensive colonization, unless she would have been willing to sacrifice other aims which seemed to her much more important. She therefore endeavored to achieve her objects along the lines of the sea approach to Californias through reliance on private initiative. The failure of this policy to bring about any great result has led historians generally to say that Spain lost interest in the Californias in the 17th century and that the proposed occupation of Monterrey was not revived

  for a century and a half. This attitude fails to take into account the almost overwhelming difficulties of the approach by sea and is in direct contradiction to a more than voluminous array of evidence, very little of which has ever been utilized. Some of these materials will be used here for the first time to show that the desire for an occupation of California was continuous. Not only were there memorials of friars, navigators, and traders, especially the

  pearl-seekers, and plans of government officials, but there was also an unending flow of royal decrees on this matter. Furthermore, there were many voyages to Baja California and attempts to form settlements there, about which very little is known, though ample materials are available for study. With his return from Japan in 1613 to 1614, Vizcaino disappears from view, though there is an unauthenticated reference to him as commander of Spanish troops which were stationed at Zalaguá

  in 1615 to resist an expected landing of Dutch enemies. The ideas of Vizcaino lived on, however, and especially his original idea about the occupation of Baja California. He was succeeded as the principal figure in relation to the Californias by a certain pearl-fishing company, at the head of which stood Tomás and later Nicolás Cardona, uncle and nephew. Misled by the I or we in the Cardona documents, historians have heretofore believed that the

  Cardonas themselves commanded on some of the expeditions of their ships. In fact, it is doubtful if either of them ever crossed the Atlantic, and certainly neither one went on voyages to the Californias. They used the first person as one might for a great company of which he was the head. All documents by them thus far discovered emanate from Spain. In 1611, Tomás de Cardona procured from the royal government a monopoly of the pearl-fishing

  rights in the New World, in return for which he bound himself to make explorations of little-known lands and to let his ships serve for naval purposes when needed. In addition, the king was to get the usual royal fifth on all pearls secured. A certain Basilio was placed in command of the Cardona fleet, and in 1613-1614 he cruised among the islands of the West Indies. In search of new fields, he and his men gave up their ships and crossed New Spain to the Pacific,

  where they arrived in 1614. There, Basilio died, Juan de Aturbe succeeded to his position, and in 1615 had three ships ready at Acapulco for a voyage in Pacific waters. Ever since Jiménez reached Baja California in 1533 and 1534, the Californias had been famed for their pearls. It will be remembered, too, that the original object of the Vizcaino Company had been to fish for them. To the Cardona Company under Aturbe, however, was reserved the

  first recorded opportunity to make an organized search for the pearls of the Gulf of California. On March 21, 1615, Aturbe's fleet set sail from Acapulco, carrying many Negro divers and a number of soldiers. Crossing to the lower end of Baja California, Aturbe went up the coast of the Gulf, landing frequently. At the place where Vizcaino was attacked in 1596, Aturbe's men were also set upon by the Indians, but the Spaniards introduced something new in California warfare

  to win the day. Two mastiffs were loosed upon the Indians, and the latter, who were unacquainted with a strange beast, took flight. Crossing to Florida as they turned the mainland to the east, in what they reported as 30 degrees, but more likely 28 degrees, they sailed to the head of the Gulf, which they reached, as they said, in 34 degrees, though the Gulf ends a little short of 32 degrees. Lack of precision in a memorial of 1617 by Nicolás de Cardona would make it appear,

  if there were not other documents from which to check up with the actual facts, that Aturbe visited Alta California. Cardona said that his fleet went por la costa de afuera, by the outside coast of the Californias to 34 degrees, the latitude of Santa Monica, near Los Angeles. What he meant was that his ships went up the outside coast of the Gulf. Crossing back to Baja California, they encountered severe storms. They were now running short of food,

  wherefore they decided to put for a port to New Spain. Two of the boats got to Mazatlán, but the third was captured by the Dutch navigator Spielberg. In 1616 Aturbe made a voyage to the Gulf with two ships, getting to 30 degrees, he reported, but being obligated to return as a result of the northwest winds and lack of food. One of his ships was captured by a foreign vessel, but the flagship got back to New Spain. It was at once ordered to sea again to warn the

  Manila galleon of the presence of enemies. This it did, returning safely again to port. Three important facts came out of the Aturbe voyages. First of these was the finding of wealth and pearls. The reports of the company tended to minimize that in dealing with the first voyage, with an eye, no doubt, to the size of the Royal Fifth and to magnifying their achievements as the basis for further favors. But Spielberg got a number of pearls from a boat he captured,

  and it is almost certain the flagship carried a much greater quantity. At any rate, it was admitted by the company that the second voyage had prospered well. A rich cargo of pearls was obtained, one of them was worth 4500 pesos. The wealth of the Californias in this respect was no longer a part of the northern mystery. The second noteworthy factor was that of the presence of foreign enemies. These deep-voiced foreigners, when not called

  pirates by the Spaniards, were referred to as pichilingües, doubtless from pecho meaning chest and lingua meaning language or tongue, to a Spaniard whose words are formed more by the tongue in the front of the mouth and by the throat, the guttural-voiced northerners, especially the Dutch, might well have seemed to be speaking from out of their chests. At least, this might have seemed a fitting way to express a certain disapproval of the speech of their enemies.

  For something like half a century after Spielberg's arrival in 1615, they were a veritable pest to the Spaniards. Little is known of the pichilingües in the Pacific, aside from the meager accounts which have thus far emanated from Spanish sources. There seems to be no definite record, for example, of the pirate who took one of Aturbi's ships in 1616. Most, if not all, of these enemy sailors were probably Dutch. One inevitable result

  to their activities was that the Spanish government should wish to bring about an occupation of the Californias, if only for the greater security of the galleon. A third result to these voyages, of great importance as affecting the projects concerning the Californias during more than a century, was a resumption of the belief that the Californias were an island and not a peninsula. When Aturbi got to the head of the Gulf in 1615,

  he at first thought, indeed, that this was a Gulf. But on crossing to Baja California, he believed he saw a strait, and so reported. One wonders if the floods of the Colorado had anything to do with his opinion. Accounts of this voyage were brought to the attention of the authorities in Spain and Mexico, and the idea was accepted. A contributing influence, no doubt, were the century-old rumors of a great and mysterious island. Despite the discoveries of

  Ulloa and Alacón in the Gulf, such reports had persistently appeared. Until recently, it was believed that the revival of the island theory was an offshoot of Oñate's expedition in 1604-1605 from New Mexico to the mouth of the Colorado. In a memorial of 1620, Father Ascension said, with reference to the Gulf of California, Up to the present time, people have understood that it was an inlet or great bay of the sea there,

  and not running continuous sea as in fact it is. This was supplemented in 1626 by a statement of Zarate Salmarón, the historian of New Mexico, who in dealing with Oñate's expedition had this to say, as the Indians stated, that the Gulf of California is not closed, but is an arm of the sea. It now appears that there was no such statement in the manuscript of Father Francisco de Escobar on which Zarate drew. The stories Escobar heard did indeed relate to an island,

  possibly Catalina Island, five days' journey to the west, but there was no intimation that the Californias were meant. Furthermore, Oñate's party descended the Colorado to the Gulf, and there is no inkling in the record that they believed it to be anything other than the Gulf. For a translation of Escobar's report, see Father Escobar's Relation of the Oñate Expedition to California, translated and edited by Herbert E. Bolton in Catholic

  Historical Review, Volume 5, Washington, April 1919. There can be no doubt that Ascension was referring to the recent Iturbi voyages and not to Oñate. Historians have been confused because they knew little or nothing about Iturbi. In consequence, it was more logical for the government to give its attention to sea approaches to the Californias rather than seek to get to Monterrey by land. Not until 1746 was the island idea definitively dispelled.

  The subsequent operations of the Cardona Company are not yet clearly known, though the memorials of Nicolás de Cardona and his protests against infringement on the monopoly of pearl fishing that he claimed would reach as late as 1643. In certain of his memorials of 1634, he referred to the services rendered by his company during twenty years, and sought not only a renewal of the pearl fishing monopoly, but also a right to make settlements in the

  Californias. A royal decree of the same year ordered that all possible attention be given to the propagation of the faith in the Californias, especially where it did not involve the government in any expense, but through the willingness of private individuals to take it upon themselves. Early in the next year, another royal decree forwarded some of the Cardona memorials to Mexico and urged the viceroy to seek for more information about the Californias.

  Precisely what happened, however, either before this date or after it, has yet to be made known, although there are abundant materials awaiting the investigator. Indeed, the period from 1616 to 1627 is at present almost a blank as concerns the activities in the Californias, though there are occasional indications that voyages were made, possibly in secret so as to void payment of the royal duties on pearls, or else in the case of

  unauthorized voyages, to keep the matter from coming to the attention of the pearl fisheries monopolists. In 1627, Martín de la Zama, a son-in-law of Iscaína, procured a license for a voyage to the Californias with pearl fishing rights attached. La Zama went to San Blas to build a ship, but it would appear that the mosquitoes of that unhelpful port were too much for him, and he gave up the enterprise. Meanwhile, a certain Captain Antonio Bastán

  had gone from Mexico to Spain to apply for a license to make conquests in the Californias at his own cost. This occasioned a royal decree of 1628, directed to the viceroy, asking reports about the best way of making further discoveries in the Californias, and if it were advisable to make them. In the course of the years 1629 to 1632, 15 memorials were accumulated, including three from Ascension, and one each from Juan de Aturbe, Martín de la Zama, Esteban Carbonell de

  Valenzuela, and others who are at present less well known. With one exception, all were in favor of an expedition. The only exception was the cosmographer Enrique Martinez, who said that the Californias were of no value except for pearls, and he doubted their wealth in that particular. The government favored the prevailing view, for a license was granted to Francisco de Otega. He obtained the typical 17th century contract, authorizing him to make the voyage and giving

  him permission to seek for pearls, in return for which he was to bear all the expense and was to procure information about the Californias, besides paying the customary duties on the pearls he should find. On March 20th, 1632, several months earlier than some of the memorials growing out of the royal decrees of 1628, Otega set sail for the Californias, with the pilot Esteban Carbonell as his second-in-command. The lower end of the peninsula was reached on May 4th, and the

  expedition proceeded up the gulf on the western side to 27 degrees. In July, the return voyage was made. Many pearls had been found. Carbonell was sent to sea again forthwith, for the pichilinguis were along the coast, and it was necessary to warn the galleon. The galleon was warned, and Carbonell returned. In 1633-1634, a more ambitious expedition was made, and the founding of a colony was attempted. Sailing from New Spain on September 8th,

  1633, Otega reached La Paz on October 7th. A colony was founded there, which was temporarily successful. The Indians proved docile, and many conversions were made, largely as a result of gifts of food, always one of the most persuasive spiritual arguments with the natives. In course of time, it appears that supplies got low, and it was necessary to abandon the colony. Meanwhile, many pearls had been found, and some information acquired about the country.

  In 1636, Otega made his third voyage to the Californias, leaving a port in Sinaloa on January 11th. He and his men were wrecked near the southern end of the peninsula, but escaped on a fragment of the vessel. They made a boat and got to La Paz, where they were well received by the Indians, who wanted them to stay. The little party of Spaniards went on to the mainland, however, coming to port on May 15th.

  Despite their misfortunes, they were able to report that they had found many pearl beds. In the years 1636 to 1637, Otega's pilot, Carbonell, became the central figure in a sensational case that aroused interest in both Mexico and Spain. An individual named Vergara had procured a license for a voyage, but transferred his rights to Carbonell. Carbonell had been in New Spain for many years and had long been prominent in connections with activities in

  the Pacific. In a document dated July 9th, 1620, Nicolás de Cardona promised Carbonell 500 pesos if he would go to Tehuantepec and refit a ship, which the former proposed to use for discoveries in the Californias. It developed, however, that he was a Frenchman and that he had secretly built a ship on the River Santiago near San Blas. Some of his crew were said to be French Canadians, who had reported that a transcontinental strait surely existed.

  It was believed that Carbonell planned to seek the strait and sail through it to France, opening a way for the French to threaten the Spanish possessions in the Pacific. Hundreds of memorials or depositions were gathered in the trial in this case, but it is not yet possible to tell how it came out. Very likely, Carbonell had nothing more in mind when he built a ship than the making of an unlicensed pearl voyage. The profound interest, not to say excitement, which the case caused,

  is one of the almost innumerable evidences that Spain could always be stirred up by threatened foreign incursions in the Californias. These were recognized as an entering wedge into her rich dominions of New Spain. The fact that no great expedition followed the Carbonell case may for the present be regarded as some evidence that the French pilot was acquitted of the principal charges against him. Footnote. The above information is based on the charges against Carbonell,

  one document out of hundreds in the file. Yet, as an example of the present inadequacy of our information about this period, it is worth pointing out how this clears up and supplants the statement made in Bancroft. According to Bancroft, Carbonell got a license in an underhanded way, unspecified, and made a voyage in 1636, returning to Mexico in disgrace. His partner, Vergara, also got a license and transferred it to a French company, that is all. The information

  provided in the charges against Carbonell was supplied by the writer to Mr. Rudolf J. Taussig, who used it in his The American Inter-Oceanic Canal, An Historical Sketch of the Canal Idea, In the Pacific Ocean and History, New York, 1917. In footnote. Meanwhile, another individual had gradually been coming to the fore. In 1635, Pedro Porter Casanate, in association with Juan Botelo, asked for a license to make a voyage to the Californias

  at his own expense, offering also to provide accurate charts of that land. The license was given in 1636, whereupon Ortega complained that it infringed rights previously given to the previously granted to him. As a result, both licenses were revoked. Porter had already spent a vast sum of money on the enterprise and betook himself to Spain for redress. His case received favorable attention, and at length, in 1640, he procured the desired royal license, which also

  gave him a monopoly of the right to sail the Gulf of California. He was detained in Spain on other service, however, and it was not until 1643 that he started upon his return. With him went a number of families of prospective settlers, while others were picked up in Vara Cruz. A boat on the Pacific was chartered, and Porter commenced building two others. Just then came the familiar news about the Pechilingües. At any rate, they had made their appearance in Chile, and it was expected that

  they would sail north, with a view to capture of the galleon. Porter's vessel was the only one at hand, so it was sent out to give the usual warning. In January 1644, this ship, under Alonso González Barriga, put to sea. Eighteen days were required before González could cover the narrow but difficult stretch between the mainland and the peninsula. Meanwhile, he had missed the galleon, which, however, got safely to Acapulco, but he went on for five days up the west coast of Baja

  California. The storms soon proved to be too much for his vessel, and he turned back for New Spain, making port in a four-day run. He had seen a number of Indians who had received him with demonstrations of friendship, and he had also not neglected the opportunity to procure some pearls. Shortly afterward, in April 1644, Porter received a setback from which he never recovered. A fire broke out, and his ships and warehouses were burned. He had by this time wasted a fortune

  in the enterprise, but the royal government came to his assistance. He was placed in command of a post in Sinaloa, just across from the Californias, and the Viceroy was ordered to help him. The order had to be repeated, however, before the Viceroy would take action, and it was not until 1648 that Porter was ready for another voyage. In that year, two ships were sent out to explore sites for a colony, but they returned without having found any that were suitable. They went

  to sea again to warn the galleon, for the Pichilinguas were reported in the vicinity. In 1650, Porter disappears from the record. A royal order of that year requires the Viceroy to assist him, unless there were serious objections. But the authorities wanted an explanation of Porter's delays, making the observation that his license was not unlimited in time. It seems likely that the Viceroy recommended against any further dealings with Porter.

  One wonders whether the latter had sincerely endeavored to fulfill his contract. For fifteen years he had devoted himself to this project, and, so far as the evidence goes, had made but two rather unsatisfactory voyages. It is at least probable that his ships crossed the Gulf on other occasions without reporting the fact, thus avoiding the obligations imposed in the contract. Graft was a prevalent vice in New Spain, and it would have been easier and cheaper to bribe

  royal officers than to live up to the terms of the license and pay the royal fees. After Porter's voyage of 1648, there is, at present, a hiatus in the records, until Bernardo Bernal de Pinedero steps forward in 1664 as the principal figure in California exploration. Pinedero had procured the usual type of contract, with emphasis on the importance of making a settlement in California. In 1664 he sent out two ships. Completely disregarding his

  contract obligations, Pinedero confined his efforts to a search for pearls and procured a rich cargo. Precise information of this voyage got out, for the Spaniards quarreled over the division of the spoil. Furthermore, Pinedero had treated the natives cruelly, compelling them to serve as divers, whereby many of them were drowned for lack of breath, and, of course, he had made no settlement. The viceroy authorized him to make another voyage,

  but the audiencia of Guadalajara temporarily prevented him from doing so. Pinedero was therefore delayed until 1667, when he seems to have sent out two ships. Nothing definite is yet known of this voyage, and it may have been the same as reputed two-ship voyage of 1668 under the command of one Lusinea. Lusinea stated that the Californias were barren and returned without making a settlement. It was asserted that his real object was to find pearls.

  Pinedero continued to have rites of discovery, or to seek them, until 1678. In 1672, the Council of the Indies ordered the viceroy to investigate and report fully on one of his petitions, insisting that the project of settling the Californias should be carried out. If Pinedero was not the proper person, then another was to be found, or, if necessary, it was to be undertaken at royal expense. This shows that the government was beginning to realize that conquest and

  settlement by private initiative could no longer be counted upon. The Día del Conquistador or Adelanto was gone, and henceforth it was the state which would have to pay the bills. Considerable file of papers accumulated growing out of the order of 1672. The authorities in New Spain decided against Pinedero on various grounds, including that of his past irregularities, but the Council of the Indies in 1674 sustained him. The decree added that the viceroy should

  regard discoveries in the Californias as important even if they offered no advantages other than as a field for spiritual conquest, doubtless with the strategic importance of the peninsula in mind. Whether Pinedero made another voyage, however, is at present unknown. Discoveries and settlements in the Californias on private initiative had failed. The contracts had been mere shields behind which the individuals engaged, whether openly or secretly, in the pearl

  fisheries, without making serious efforts to achieve what was uppermost in the royal mind. Convinced of this fact, the government, which all along had desired the occupation as a defensive measure, resolved to provide the funds itself. A new type of contract was drawn up, therefore, in 1678 and approved in 1679, whereby Isidrio Atondo y Antion was to found a colony and the government was to bear most of the expense. It was not until 1683 that everything was ready.

  The expedition was to consist of three ships and about a hundred men, including three Jesuits. One of the Jesuits was Eusebio Francisco Quino, whose lifelong interest in the Californias was aroused as a result of this expedition. Starting in January 1683, Atondo spent two months without being able to cross the Gulf to the peninsula. Making a fresh attempt, he got over in four days and reached La Paz on the 1st of April. The natives were not as well disposed as in other

  years. The selfishness and cruelty of the pearlfishers had alienated them. At length, some of them were won over through liberal gifts of food, though certain tribes, notably the Guayacuri, remained hostile and it proved necessary to kill a number of them in battle. But the experience of Cortes, Vizcaino, and Ortego was soon repeated. Supplies got scarce and on July 14th La Paz was abandoned. The expedition returned to Sinaloa.

  Atondo was soon back in the peninsula, however. In October 1683, he founded another colony at a site which he named San Bruno, about fifty miles north of La Paz on the Bay of San Juan. The attempt was indeed an earnest one. No such careful preparations to ensure permanence had ever been made, at least not since the time of Cortes, and the greatest success thus far experienced was attained. Not only were there settlers and a stock of provisions, but also certain other

  elements without which a colony that would endure was impossible. Atondo had brought over some domestic animals, goats, horses, and mules, and a beginning was made in the cultivation of the soil. The natives were friendly, and the religious proceeded to ply them with Christian doctrine to the accompaniment of pozole, or porridge. A mission was established to which the Indians submitted. Occasionally they would desert, following punishments inflicted upon some of

  their number, but as Bancroft puts it, they always returned to prayers and pozole. Typical of frontier settlements, too, were the quarrels of the Jesuits and Atondo over their relative authority. For two years the little colony held up its head. During this time Atondo made explorations into the interior and found the land rough and sterile. He reported that there were no mines, the water was poor, the climate was unhelpful, and the natives wretched, though

  peaceful. Once he sent a ship north to look for a better site, while he himself took another vessel and went to look for pearls, but neither voyage was a success. The matter was now put before the Viceroy whether the colony should not be abandoned. He replied that the San Bruno settlement should be retained, if possible, until a better site was found. Provisions failed, however, and late in 1685 the whole force crossed over to Sinaloa. A familiar turn was given to this unfortunate

  ending of the expedition when news came that the Pichelengües were once more threatening. Atondo went to sea and warned the galleon, returning to Acapulco in December 1685. The government had expended 225,400 pesos on the Atondo expedition, which was looked upon, in that day, as an enormous sum, especially in view of the depleted state of the royal treasury. It was resolved to go ahead with the project, however. At about this time, in 1685 or 1686,

  probably the latter, Lusania asked for a right to renew the attempt which he had made nearly 20 years before, but the government supported Atondo, who wished to try it again. An order for the payment of 30,000 pesos to Atondo was given, but an Indian revolt in the wave of Escaia caused the diversion of the funds, and Atondo did not get another opportunity. The closing years of the century were not a propitious time for further governmental

  expenditures. Spain and Europe was then engaged in a life-and-death struggle with the powerful Louis XIV of France, and could not afford such an expensive luxury as an attempt to settle the Californias. It was perhaps on this account that she consented to one more experiment of the now discredited private initiative method of occupation. In 1694, a certain Francisco de Itamara, a former companion of Atondo, made a voyage at his own expense and paid a visit to San Bruno.

  The natives had not forgotten the taste of pozole and were clamorous for conversion. It can hardly have occasioned surprise that Itamara accomplished nothing, for it was now recognized that the founding of settlements would require such a heavy and financially unprofitable outlay that it would inevitably be a state undertaking unless some hitherto untried method should be employed. Meanwhile, it is probable that, as indeed throughout the 17th

  century, the unrecorded, or at least as yet unknown, voyages of unlicensed pearl fishers went on. Private gain and an effective conquest of the Californias were, in the face of the extraordinary difficulties, altogether incompatible. Footnote. The activities of Spain with respect to the Californias in the 17th century ought to be made the subject of a number of doctoral theses. For unpublished materials in great quantity are available and the theme is worthy of treatment.

  Among the more obvious topics are the Iturbí, Ortega, Porter and Pinadero voyages, the Carbinell case, and the Atondo expedition to say nothing of pichilingües, unlicensed pearl fishers, and institutional subjects. The writer's catalogue, though it does not pretend to be exhaustive for the 17th century, contains indications, nevertheless, of an enormous quantity of hitherto unused materials. Particularly is this true of the great bound files of papers

  known as testimonials, which are so closely written that each of their pages is at least the equivalent of an average-sized page of print. The file of papers mentioned in this chapter, headed by the decree of 1628 and containing 15 memorials, is one such testimonial. This, however, though it is 157 pages long, is one of the smaller testimonials. Among the others are the following, 1617, about the operations of the Cardona Company, 61 pages,

  1633 and 1636, concerning Ortega's discoveries, 271 and 310 pages, respectively, 1636 and 1637, three testimonials about the Carbinell case of 400, 754 and 735 pages, 1665, 1666 and 1674 to 1676, with reference to Pinadero of 13, 20 and 79 pages. In other legajos of the Arquio General de Indias, there are vast quantities of materials on autundo, though not indicated in the catalogue. In addition, there are a number of separate

  memorials and royal decrees manifesting the Spanish interest in the Californias in the 17th century, many of which are listed in the catalogue.

• 14 - The Jesuits in Baja California, 1697-1768

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  CHAPTER XIV. The Jesuits in Baja California, 1697-1768. The occupation of either of the Californias by the sea route, rather than by following the line of overland progress to the junction of the Gila and Colorado rivers, thence branching out southward to the peninsula and northwestward to Monterey, represented a departure from the normal course, necessitating extraordinary efforts for a successful achievement.

  Yet both regions were settled and maintained as an overseas venture, and one of them, Baja California, served in some degree as a preliminary base for the acquisition of the other. Credit for the occupation of Baja California belongs jointly to the Jesuits and the Spanish government, which cooperated to bring it about, and especially to maintain the initial gains made at their own expense by the Jesuits. The Jesuits, however, are entitled to principal

  recognition as the active agents of the Crown, who succeeded in an enterprise which for nearly two centuries had had an almost unbroken record of failure. The disappointment of the government over the outcome of the Otondo Colony in 1685 disposed it for the moment against incurring further expense in the Californias, but it was almost immediately reminded of the desirability of Spanish occupation by the appearance of the

  pichilingües. In this case, the deep-voiced foreigners were English freebooters under Swan and Townley, who came up the coast in 1685 to 1686 in search of the Manila Galleon. Swan tried to reach Cape San Lucas, but failed on account of the age-long difficulty of the contrary winds. He therefore turned about and made for the East Indies. The Galleon was not taken, but the government was again roused to action. It was believed, however,

  that a new method of conquest should be tried, and therefore in 1686 an offer of 40,000 pesos a year was made to the Jesuits to undertake it. Since the conversion of the Indians, rather than wealth and pearls or the development of rich lands was their primary aim, it was hoped that they might succeed where others had not been able to do so. The royal government might indeed have commanded the Jesuits to do this work, but in the nature of things

  it was essential to have their free consent. Thus, when the Jesuits declined on grounds of their wretchedness of the land and the small number of Indians, the government did not press the matter. The suggestion was soon to bear fruit, however. It was after the Jesuit refusal that the government made the already-mentioned plan to finance Atondo again, a project which came to naught. The revival of the idea of a Jesuit conquest was due to two religious

  of that order, Fathers Eusebio Francisco Quino and Juan Maria Salvatierra. As a member of the Atondo expedition, Father Quino had developed an enthusiasm for Jesuit penetration into the Californias. This became one of the abiding aims of his life. Upon his return from the San Bruno colony, he had been sent to Sonora, where, in 1687, he had crossed the Altar River to found a mission at Dolores in Primaria Alta. It was there that he met Salvatierra,

  who had been sent out by the Jesuit order as a visitator or inspector of the missions in that region. Quino imbued Salvatierra with his own enthusiasm, and the latter put himself at the head of a movement for a Jesuit occupation of Baja California. The time was unusually un propitious, for Spain was then prostrate before France in a great war which was not yet finished but was virtually decided. Not only the government, but also the higher Jesuit

  officials opposed the plan. But in 1696, help came from the fountainhead of Jesuit power. In that year, Father Santayla, general of the order, was in Mexico City. He favored the project. It was therefore not hard to procure a license from the government, which had so long desired the achievement of this very aim, but the Proviso was attached to its consent that the Jesuits must find the funds. Early in 1697, Salvatierra was empowered

  to raise them, if he could, by private subscription. Salvatierra was assisted in his project by Father Juan de Ugarte, a member of the Jesuit College of Mexico City. And it was this individual who now began his important services on behalf of the Californias by suggesting the establishment of the Pious Fund for the Californias. This institution, described hereafter in this chapter, provided for the collection of funds from Pious individuals and for their employment

  in the founding and maintenance of missions. The royal license to the Jesuits, dated February 5, 1697, called for the occupation of the Californias by the Jesuits at their own expense, assisted by the Pious Fund. The most striking feature of the contract was the provision that the entire enterprise was to be under Jesuit control. Not only were they to have charge of spiritual interests, but they were also to hire and command the soldiers and

  such other officials or helpers as they might need. This was something new in California history, though it had been tried elsewhere in Spanish dominions, notably in Paraguay, with success. The one check on Jesuit authority was the requirement that the conquest should be made in the name of the king and subject to the orders of the viceroy or other higher representatives of the crown. Salvatierra met with many discouragements in getting his

  expedition under way. He found that insufficient provisions had been supplied. Then Fathers Quino and Piccolo, whom he had intended to take with him, did not appear at the rendezvous. Quino was detained permanently in Primaria Alta, but Piccolo eventually joined Salvatierra, though not until after the latter had reached Baja California. Though affairs were not in such a state as he could have wished, Salvatierra resolved to go anyway, so he gathered together his army of six

  men and started. The voyage was made in two small craft which endeavored to cross from the Sinaloa coast to the peninsula. Salvatierra's boat got across the gulf in a single day, sailing on October 10, 1697 and arriving on the 11th. The other boat was caught in a storm and did not reach its destination until November 15, over a month later. On October 18, after a weak search, Salvatierra picked out a site about a third of the way up the peninsula which Captain Romero had

  said he had visited two years before, on a voyage of which otherwise there is no record. Unless Romero was in fact referring to the Itamara voyage of 1694. At this place, to which the name Loreto was given, was now established the first permanent European settlement of the Californias. A fort was constructed with the provisions as bulwarks and a tiny swivel gun was mounted. There were many natives in the vicinity and they helped in the work of preparing the camp,

  receiving gifts of porridge and maize. Salvatierra was a very busy man in the early days of the colony. He was priest, officer, sentry, governor of the province, and cook for the army rolled into one. Yet he found time to study the native tongue and to conduct religious services from the first. The Indians were invited to attend and they were given an extra allotment of porridge when they did. Trouble soon developed, however, on the part of the unconverted. They wanted as

  much porridge as the converts received and furthermore began to steal things about the camp. Their dissatisfaction at length reached such proportions that on the 1st of November they issued demands for porridge. For several days the Spaniards thought it best to accede to them, as the second ship had not arrived and their forces were hopelessly insufficient. Meanwhile, they became exhausted with watching for it was evident that the Indians, emboldened by their

  success, planned to rush the camp. At last, on November 12th, the attack came. The Spaniards felt that it was time to use the swivel gun. They did so and one famous shot was fired, but the result was very different from what they could have hoped. The gun burst and killed two Spaniards, while the Indians received no harm. Seeing what had taken place, the Indians charged. All seemed over now, but the Spaniards prepared to sell their lives dearly. They fired their

  muskets point blank at the Indians, several of whom were killed. Thereupon a new light dawned on the Indians and they came to a sudden, unanimous and simultaneous decision to run the other way. The battle was over. The next day the Indians sued for peace. Two days later, on the 15th, the second boat, the one which had left Sinaloa at the same time as Salvatieras, reached Loreto, and on the 23rd the first boat, which had been sent back to New Spain,

  came in, bringing Father Piccolo. Success now seemed likely. All the Indians appeared to want conversion and manifestly desired porridge, but Salvatieras insisted upon more instruction and greater proofs of their sincerity. The conquerors were now eighteen in number, two religious, seven soldiers, five sailors, and four Christian Indians from the mainland, a force that was large enough to cope with the Indians of the neighborhood,

  numerous as they were. Salvatieras' rectorship, or presidency, of the Baja California missions, carrying with it the government of the province, lasted until his death in 1717. The events of these twenty years are typical of frontier life and are representative also of the course of affairs in the later period of Jesuit rule. The first five years were a particularly crucial period, for the entire weight of responsibility fell upon Salvatieras and

  his co-workers without more aid from the king than the royal goodwill. The pious one did especially effective service in these years, with the result that the number of soldiers was increased, supplies made adequate and regular in shipment, and more buildings erected. In 1699 the mission of San Javier was founded, south of Loreto at a fertile site, and Father Piccolo went there as missionary. In the early years the Indians were occasionally hostile,

  being stirred to resistance by their native priests or medicine men, whose profession was, of course, frowned on by the Jesuits. But the fiery Captain Tortolero proved himself to be a Californian, mild-standish, and was able to keep the Indians in hand. They displayed no enthusiasm for conversion, however. On Palm Sunday of 1698 Salvatiera planned to represent a dinner of twelve apostles, with Indians filling in the role of the apostles, but only two Indians put in an appearance.

  There were also the inevitable quarrels of religious and military, especially between Salvatiera and Tortolero's successor Mendoza, though in this case the Jesuits clearly had the authority. Mendoza wanted to employ more summary methods against the Indians, and also to use the soldiers in fishing for pearls. Despite the risk involved, Salvatiera did not hesitate to settle the matter by discharging eighteen of his thirty soldiers. The most serious difficulty arose over

  the inadequacy of the Pius Fund for the needs of the colony, and furthermore the amount of the gifts to the funds fell away due to the inimical reports of the disappointed soldiery and the pearl fishers. It is to be noted that obscure seekers of pearls were a constant factor in the history of the province. The Jesuits complained against them because they forced the Indians to die for pearls, and consequently the religious would not sell them provisions. The government,

  however, encouraged the pearl fishers and by a degree of 1703 waved the old idea of the monopoly. The effective occupation of the Californias, by whatever means it might be brought about, was what the government wanted. When it became evident that the Jesuits could not sustain themselves without royal aid, the king and his counselors came to the rescue. Philip V himself attended a session of the Council of the Indies in 1702, at which it was decided to grant a subsidy

  of 6,000 pesos a year and two additional missionaries, naturally at royal expense. Shortly afterward, an additional 7,000 pesos, 30 soldiers, and religious paraphernalia were added by the king, and in later years the annual royal subsidy reached as high as 30,000 pesos, thus providing for the soldiers, sailors, and missionaries. With this aid, the Pius Fund was able to furnish the rest. It is to be noted that there was almost no financial return on the royal

  investment and that expensive wars in Europe were all along taxing the treasury to its uttermost. Yet the Spanish government, though occasionally behind hand in its payments, made what was, for the times, a generous allowance to maintain and extend the conquests in the Californias, primarily because of their strategic importance with reference to the rich kingdom of New Spain. Another important factor of a permanent variety was the difficulty of communications with the

  mainland. Many instances of delays and wreck occasioned by the storms of the Gulf of California have already been noted. In Salvatierra's time, about one ship a year was lost by wreck. Salvatierra became convinced that it would be much better to develop a supply route by way of Sonora, and in 1701 visited Kino in Primaria Alta to discuss the matter. As a result, plans were made for joint expeditions from Sonora, Baja California, to see whether there were a practicable

  trail. It was impossible to do this by boat as the number of wrecks left the Jesuits with an insufficient fleet of vessels and the contrary winds were too difficult a factor to overcome readily. Explorations were made by land to the end of Jesuit rule but never quite reached the Colorado from the side of Baja California or the settled part of the peninsula from the side of Sonora. It is important, however, that the need for such a route was recognized. Baja California

  was in fact at the extremity of an overland advance occupied as a result of special circumstances before the intervening spaces. The greatest of the Baja California Jesuits undoubtedly was Father Salvatierra, but second only to him stood Father Juan de Ugarte. It was Ugarte who organized the work of the Pius Fund, but he was not content with the task of administering that institution. He wanted to be an active toiler in the field, so in 1701 he came to Loreto. Father Piccolo had

  just been driven away from San Javier by the Indians, but Ugarte went there to restore the mission. Moreover, relying on his great strength, for he was a giant in stature, he sent back the soldiers who had gone there with him. He reestablished the mission and as the site was fertile, put the Indians to work at agriculture. The experiment, which had not previously been tried, was a success and in course of time, San Javier was able to produce a surplus for use at the other missions.

  Ugarte was a man who radiated enthusiasm and he was able to succeed where others would have failed. Patient as a rule, he could also exhibit a picturesque wrath. On one occasion he took an Indian by the hair and swung him around his head, and on another seized by the hair two Indians who were fighting and dashed them to the ground. His bountiful courage was particularly useful in 1701, the year of his arrival. Provisions got so low that even Salvatierra was ready to abandon the province.

  Ugarte opposed and said that he would stay, whatever the others might do. All stayed, therefore. Very soon they were reduced to eating roots, but a ship came in time to save them. Naturally, upon the death of Salvatierra, Ugarte was appointed to succeed him and he ruled until 1730 when he died at the age of 70 years. His term of office was one of great munificence to the Pius Fund, with the result that more missions were founded and the establishments

  generally placed on a secure basis. Ugarte resolved to solve the riddle of the Gulf, if Gulf it were. First, it was necessary to build a ship, for those which plied between the mainland and Loreto had proved unequal to the northward voyage. Scouring the land, he found a grove of timber in an almost inaccessible ravine. The builder said that it was not suitable for a ship, but Ugarte cut it anyway and hauled it for a hundred miles over mountain ranges to a mission

  on the coast. The ship was built, and named appropriately the Triunfo de la Cruz or Triumph of the Cross. In this boat, the venerable rector, then 61 years of age, made a voyage up the Gulf in 1721, taking an Englishman, a certain William Stafford, called Guillermo Estrafort in the Spanish, as a pilot. Ugarte proved that the sheet of water upon which he sailed was a Gulf. Yet, so persistent were the old ideas that the voyage had to be repeated by Father Consag

  in 1746. Then, at length, the legend of California's insularity was overthrown forever. A serious Indian revolt broke out in 1734. The Indians of the Cape San Lucas region had always been unruly, and particularly objected to the Jesuit efforts to deprive them of their institution of polygamy. There were only three Jesuits and six soldiers in the south when the rebellion began. And two of the former and four of the latter, together with many Indian converts, were killed.

  In 1735, when a boat from the Manila Galleon put in at Cape San Lucas, 13 Spaniards were massacred. The news of these events spread through the peninsula, and the Indians of the north seemed on the point of rising, where for all missions, save that of Loreto, were temporarily abandoned in 1735. Sixty hard-fighting Yak Indians were brought over from Sonora, and they saved the situation for a time. Later in the year, Governor Huidoboro of Sonora came to the peninsula,

  and decisively defeated the Indians of the south. As a result, the revolt in the north died before it had fairly broken out, and that of the south lost force. Though the Indians of that quarter continued to drive off cattle and to commit other depredations for some 10 years more. Abandonment of the province had been averted, however. In 1768, the Jesuits were deprived of their position in the peninsula. Before relating how this came about, it is well at

  this point to summarize their achievements in Baja California. As a recent work puts it, quote, during their 70 years sojourn in the lower, or Baja California, the Jesuits had charted the east coast and explored the east and west coasts of the peninsula and the islands adjacent thereto. They had explored the interior to the 31st parallel of north latitude, about 100 miles south of the present international boundary, in a manner that has never been excelled. They had

  brought about the institution of the Pius Fund. They had founded 23, including the chapel of Jesus de Monte, mission establishments, of which 14 had proven successful. Footnote. Two of the 14 were abandoned by the successors of the Jesuits. In footnote. They had erected structures of stone and beautified them. They had formulated a system of mission life, never thereafter surpassed. They had not only instructed the Indians in religious matters,

  but had taught them many useful arts. They had made a network of open trails, connecting the missions with each other and with Loreto. They had taken scientific and geographical notes concerning the country and prepared ethnological reports on the native races. They had cultivated and planted the arable lands and inaugurated a system of irrigation. Considering the abundance of level land, the water, and tens of thousands of Indians about them,

  the establishment by the Franciscans, at a later time, of 21 missions in Upper or Alka California during the 54 years preceding the passage of the Secularization Act is no circumstance to the peninsular work of the Jesuits. Finally, the Jesuits of California were men of high education, many of them of gentle birth. Of their labors in the peninsula, it has been said with truth that, remote as was the land and small the nation, there are few chapters in the history of the world on

  which the mind can turn with so sincere an admiration. In quote. Footnote. North. Arthur Walbridge. The Mother of California. San Francisco and New York. 1908. In footnote. Aside from the mission Presidio at Loreto, in the other missions there were a few settlements in Baja California where Spaniards lived. The Jesuits always resisted the entry of any whites other than themselves and their mission guards. They even opposed, with success, several royal

  projects for the founding of Presidios on the west coast. Their idea, here, as in Paraguay, was that the conversion and civilization of the native was the prime reason for their presence and that these aims would best be attained if the selfish interests of white settlers were not allowed to complicate the situation. There was a sprinkling of miners, however, in the south and, as already noted, the pearl fishers continued to visit the coasts.

  It remains to deal, in somewhat more detail, with the Pius Fund. The Pius Fund of the Californias, founded by Salvatierra and Ugarte in 1697, came to be, eventually, one of the principal supports of the missions of both Baja and Alta California. The royal treasury never provided enough for the needs of the missions, which could not have been sustained without a much larger governmental grant, if it had not been for the assistance of the Pius Fund.

  For the first few years, indeed, the Pius Fund was the sole reliance of the Jesuits. At the outset, the method of handling was for the donors to pay over the interest merely, on sums that they had given but retained in their possession. Thus, a grant of 10,000 pesos, which was usually regarded as the capital required for the support of one mission, entailed payment of 500 pesos per year as interest

  to the Jesuit administrator in Mexico City. One donor went bankrupt, however, and from the year 1716, the funds were paid over in entirety and reinvested, usually in ranches. The greatest benefactor was the Marqués de Villapuente. In addition to providing sums for the founding of a number of missions, he gave several hundred thousand acres of land in Tamalipas, with all the flocks and buildings upon them. A certain Josefa Paola de Arguelles

  gave nearly 200,000 pesos, and a member of the great Borja or Borja family, Maria de Borja Duquesa de Gandia gave 62,000. The fund reached a total of from 500,000 to 1 million pesos and produced at a rate of about 5%. A Jesuit procurator managed the estates and bought and shipped goods to the missionaries in the peninsula. After the expulsion of the Jesuits had been decided upon in 1767, the Pius Fund was taken

  over by the government, but was managed as a separate financial institution with a view to carrying out the objects of the original donors. It was, henceforth, applied to both Californias. Occasionally, too, funds were devoted to other than purely religious objects, as in the case of the expeditions of 1769 and 1775-76 to Alta California, both of which were provided for, in part, out of the Pius Fund. In 1836, the Mexican government, which had succeeded Spain

  in exercise of sovereignty over the Californias, passed a law that the funds should be applied toward the expenses of a bishopric of the Californias, which, with papal assent, it was proposed to establish. Thus, the religious were deprived of any further utilization of the fund. In 1842, the Mexican government reassumed control, but announced that it would employ the proceeds to promote the civilization and conversion of the savages. Later in the same year,

  the separate estates of the Pius Fund were sold and the monies obtained were incorporated in the Mexican treasury, but the government made formal acknowledgement of an indebtedness for religious objects in the Californias to the extent of 6% a year on the amount it had received. When the United States took over Alta California in 1848, Mexico ceased to make further payments on behalf of that territory, and for many years, they lapsed. In 1868, a commission met to adjust

  claims between the United States and Mexico, and while it was still in session, the Catholic authorities of California put in a claim in 1870 for a portion of the income of the Pius Fund, so much as would normally have been Alta California's share. The United States entered the claim, but as no agreement with Mexico could be reached, the matter was submitted to an umpire in the person of Sir Edward Thornton. This gentleman rendered a decision in 1875 calling

  for payment by Mexico of 6% annually on one-half the value of the fund on the theory that Alta and Baja California were equally entitled. His decision covered the 21-year period from 1848 to 1869 and required payment by Mexico of $904,070.99 or $43,050.99 a year. Mexico paid but announced that any future claim for arrears would be inadmissible, a contention with which the United States did not agree. In 1891, the United States put in a claim

  for the arrears since 1869, but Mexico declined to honor the claim. In 1902, however, the two countries consented to a submission of the case to the Arbitral Tribunal of The Hague, the first case ever acted upon by that body. The court gave a unanimous decision that Mexico should pay the accrued interest, which by that time amounted to $1,420,682.67, and also that Mexico should forever pay over the sum of $43,050.99 each year on the 2nd of February.

  The money is payable to the United States, which of course recognizes its obligations to give the full amount to the Catholic Church in California. Mexico has again fallen in arrears, and the matter of the Pius Fund has taken its place as one of the perennial unpaid claims of this country against Mexico. As for the share due to Baja California, Mexico has long since ceased to make payments. Thus, strangely does the course of history take its way.

  Who could have foreseen such a varied career for that heritage from the missionary zeal of Salvatierra and Ugarte, the Pius Fund of the Californias? In 1767, the Spanish government issued a decree expelling the Jesuits from all their dominions. The causes for this action had scarcely anything to do with Jesuit activities in Baja California, though there, as elsewhere, charges were filed against them. It was merely part of a worldwide movement in Catholic countries

  against the Jesuits, growing largely out of a fear that the Jesuits were planning a great revolution against the absolute monarchs of Europe. Portugal and France had already expelled the Jesuits, and Naples followed the lead of these countries, and Spain in 1767. Indeed, the pope was induced to suppress the Jesuit order in 1773, though it was later restored. It is therefore futile to go into the question of the justice of this decision as affecting the Jesuits of Baja

  California, as the complaints of their detractors, which were in great part false or very greatly exaggerated, had no real bearing on the case. In Baja California, as in all other Spanish domains, great secrecy was observed in carrying out the decree, and no hint of what was coming was given. In September 1767, Captain Gaspar de Portala, a native of Catalonia, arrived in the province with a commission as governor. He called the Jesuits together, and on February 3,

  1768, they were sent out of the peninsula. The Indians, it seems, made great manifestations of grief, and well they might, for their future in other hands was to be less happy than it had been under Salvatierra and his successors. The Franciscans of the College of San Fernando in Mexico City had been offered the California field in June 1767 and had accepted, but it was not until April 1768 that their first missionaries actually arrived in the peninsula. Footnote,

  the College of San Fernando was not a college, as that word is ordinarily understood in this country. It was one of several Franciscan institutions, such as the colleges of Queretaro, Jalisco, and Zacatecas, which served primarily as an administrative center for missionary work and as a home for missionaries without employment or for those who had retired from actual service. The College of San Fernando, which was destined to supply all the missionaries of Alta California

  in the Spanish era and most of those in the Mexican, was founded in 1734, in footnote. Meanwhile, the missions had been turned over to military commissioners who gave very little thought to the Indians and very much to a search for the vast treasure that the Jesuits were reputed to have accumulated. As a result, the missions were nearly ruined and the Indians were left in sad straits while little or no treasure was found. At the head of the Franciscans, who arrived in the

  spring of 1768, was Junipero Serra, the appointee of the college as president of the missions, then in his 55th year. The conditions under which he took up his presidency were very different from those of the Jesuit era. Not only was the government of the province forever removed from mission control, but also the temporalities of the missions, that is, the flocks, crops, and economic resources in general, were left in the hands of the military commissioners.

  Only the church properties and spiritual authority were to be in charge of the Franciscans. The military men had proved to be self-seeking or else incompetent so that the missions seemed doomed to fail. Not having food or clothing to give the Indians, the missionaries could not attract the unconverted or even hold the former proteges of the Jesuits. Later, in 1768, José de Galvez, the citador or royal inspector of all New Spain, arrived in the peninsula and one of his first

  reforms was to give back the temporalities to missionary control. With this, the new regime in the Californians, that of the typical frontier province, may fairly be said to have been installed. End of chapter 14

• 15 - Progress of the Idea of Overland Advance to the Californias, 1697-1765

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  15. Progress of the Idea of Overland Advance to the Californias, 1687-1765. The establishment of the Jesuit missions in Baja California was in conformity with government projects, but was far from being as thorough going and extensive a settlement as the authorities could have wished. The basis of their desires, the strategic importance of the Californias with reference to New Spain, has already been alluded to several times. But, in the face of the

  difficulties in the way of occupying the land, the impelling causes and the motive agencies of conquest had to be very strong in order to achieve the wishful result. It is well, at this point, to get these factors clearly in mind before proceeding with the detail as to the governmental plans and activities. The mere lust or vainglory of conquest in itself, without the inducement of profits, had never appealed to the Spaniards and the Americas. Conquests involved expenditures,

  and the government had no funds for expeditions that promised no clearly recognizable advantage. The Northern mystery still lived in the 18th century in the minds of many individuals, at least in its milder forms of wealth and precious metals, kingdoms of Caviarra and Straits of Añon, though fountains of youth in Amazon Islands were no longer urged seriously. But the government was utterly unmoved by these tales, or at any rate declined to open the royal

  purse in order to investigate them. A definite discovery of wealth in precious metals might indeed cause it to assume the expense of a conquest, but the evidences of discovery had to be convincing before it would start. Mere wealth and natural resources of the kind that would require time and capital to develop did not interest a state. Precious metal would yield immediate returns through the exaction of the royal fifth, or through the sale of quicksilver,

  which was a royal monopoly, for extracting gold or silver from the oars. But Spain had other uses for her long-term capital than its employment in a distant frontier province of the Empire. There was one perennial cause for conquest, the fear lest some other European power might occupy lands that would threaten those already possessed by Spain. That is, the element of foreign danger, which had made its appearance as a factor in Spanish imperial councils when Drake's

  visit to the Pacific coast had inaugurated the area of the aggressive defensive in California affairs. In this matter, Spain was unceasingly distrustful and her fear was constant. Indeed, skepticism was thrown to the winds where foreign aggressions were concerned, and mere unauthenticated reports were sufficient to produce expensive efforts from which no financial profit was expected to be derived. Hardly a year passed without some governmental project on this account,

  but the advances between 1687 and 1769, except for the Jesuit activities in Baja California, were more in the way of improving the eventual line of communications than in taking over new territories. All of this was essential work. If the details are not dwelt upon here, it is not because the founding of a presidio or the suppression of an Indian war in Sonora was a matter of no importance. What might have happened if incontrovertible evidence of foreign aggression

  in the Californias had been received is a question, but no such proofs were obtained in this period. Suspicion there was, always. Down to 1761, it was directed primarily against the French, but the English were at all times suspected, and the fear of Russian encroachments began to be a factor from about the middle of the 18th century. In any event, the government had to have fit instruments to carry out its policies of defensive conquest. The relative importance of

  the military, the religious, and the civilian settler as agencies of conquest has already been discussed, but it should be emphasized that the conversion of Indians to Christianity is to be regarded distinctly as an agency rather than the cause of conquest. On this point, Father Engelhardt says, quote, The kings, indeed, desired the conversion of the Indians to Christianity, and frequently declared this to be the chief aim of the conquest. Nevertheless, the object for

  which alone expenses were incurred was political, end quote. And again, quote, The man who presumed to guide the destinies of Spain cared not for the success of religion or the welfare of its ministers, except insofar as both could be used to promote political schemes, end quote. Anybody who has made an extensive study of the documents of the period will recognize that these statements are essentially true. Unquestionably, the conversion of the Indians was the principal object to the missionaries,

  but with a government, it was merely a means to an end. If funds were provided for missions, it was because some political advantage was expected, or an order that some danger to the state might be averted. As an agency of conquest, however, the work of the religious, as already indicated, was very important. One other important agency of conquest had to combine with these elements, which were permanently in the field, if a striking advance were to be made toward and

  into the Californias, especially in the absence of definite information of a foreign invasion to act as an exceptional spurred conquest. The difficulties to be overcome, geographical barriers, the insufficient funds which the government was willing to apply, the hindrances of graft and administrative cumbersomeness, the numerous Indians to be encountered, and the competition of Europeans were so great that only a leader of extraordinary energy and ability could push ahead

  of the normal march of conquest. Salvatierra and Ugarte demonstrated the necessary qualities in Baja California, but no other great leader appeared until the arrival of Jose de Galvez in 1765. There were many, however, who paved the way for later conquests by their explorations of little known lands, or by their propaganda in favor of an advance. Three factors should be considered then in dealing with the Spanish approach to Alta California. Projects for an advance, including

  the activities of individuals and the plans of the government, the obstacles in the way of an advance, and the normal march of conquest by the land route through Sonora. The initial impulse for the Spanish advance over the last stretch of land that separated New Spain from Californias was given by Father Eusebio Francisco Quino of the Jesuit order. In 1687, when he established the Mission Dolores on one of the upper branches of the Sonora River, he took the first step toward

  bringing Primaria Alta within the frontier and extending the Spanish occupation to its Pacific coast objectives of Baja California and Monterrey. His major interest, aside from the immediate problems connected with his missionary labors in Primaria Alta, was the discovery and development of a supply route to Baja California. As a member of the Otondo colony of 1683 to 1685, as already stated, he had acquired an interest in the peninsula, which thereafter he never ceased to

  have. He, it was, who inspired Salvatierra to make the attempt which had resulted in the Jesuit occupation of Baja California in 1697. After exploring the Gila and Colorado valleys, Quino became interested in the northern lands as well, hoping to reach Monterrey. He trusted that the Manila Galleon might be ordered to stop there and send goods overland to Sonora, and he grew to believe that a settlement should be founded on the Colorado River

  to serve as a base for operations against the Apaches and Mochis to the east and northeast, and for the conquest of the Californias on the one hand and the lands intervening between Sonora and New Mexico on the other. These ideas constituted, in effect, the program of Spanish northwestward conquest for the next hundred years. The partial fulfillment of this plan by the Anza expeditions of 1775 to 1776 from Sonora to Monterrey was to have tremendous consequences

  to the eventual advantage of California and the United States, just as the failure of the Colorado Gila settlements in 1781 was to have equally important and, as it turned out, equally fortunate results. Quino is therefore one of the headlights in the list of those men who contributed to the founding of Spanish California. Not only did he possess these ideas himself, but he also disseminated them in his voluminous writings, including correspondence, memorials, and a volume

  recounting his experiences. In the quarter of a century following his appearance in Primaria Alta, Quino and his companions pushed the frontier of mission work and the exploration of the Gila and the lower Colorado. By 1695, Quino had established a chain of missions up and down the valley of the altar. His repeated journeys of exploration took him, among other places, to the borders of the Californias and enabled him to help clear up the geographical puzzles about those lands.

  Quino had come to America in the belief that California was a peninsula, but, under the influence of current teachings, had accepted the idea that it was an island. During his last journey to the Gila, however, he had been given some blue shells, such as he had seen on the western coast of Baja California and nowhere else. He now reasoned that California must, after all, be a peninsula, and that it might be possible to find a land route over which to

  send supplies to Salvatierra's struggling missions. To test this view was the principal object of his later explorations. In 1700 he, for the first time, descended the Gila to its junction with the Colorado. In the following year, accompanied by Salvatierra, he tried to reach the head of the Gulf by going up the coast from Senoita. Failing in this, he went to the Gila junction, descended the Colorado nearly to its mouth, and crossed over on a raft. In 1702 he again descended the Colorado,

  this time reaching the Gulf. He had now proved, to his own satisfaction at least, that California was a peninsula. Meanwhile Quino and his brother friars had pushed the missionary frontier to the Gila. In 1700 he founded the mission of San Javier del Bac, and within the next two years those of Tumacacori and Guevalli, all in the Santa Cruz Valley and within modern Arizona. Quino's exploring tours were also itinerant missions, and in the course of them he baptized

  and taught in numerous villages up and down the Gila and Colorado and throughout Primaria Alta. Quino had blazed the trail. The record of the next half century, after the completion of his own labors in 1711, amounts to accumulation of achievements along the lines that he had already laid down. Fathers Agustín Campos, Juan de Ugarte, Ignacio Keller, Jacobo Settlemeyer, and Fernando Consag of the Jesuit order carried on explorations in the Colorado Gila country and in the Gulf of

  California. The most important result of their work was the definite proof, obtained by Ugarte and Consag, that there was no strait separating the Californias from the mainland. Development of overland routes for further settlements and the carrying of supplies was therefore possible. Noteworthy, too, were the problems in imaginary geography arising from Settlemeyer's journey of 1744, when he ascended the Colorado to Bill Williams Fork. Fears arose lest the French,

  and after 1763 the English, might be near the sources of the Colorado. Settlemeyer had also heard that there was a certain Rio Amarillo a little further on, beyond where he had gone, and that it flowed westward out of the Colorado. People wondered whether this might be the Carmelo, which emptied near Monterrey, a tiny stream which Vizcaino had exaggerated the proportions of a mighty river. The proximity of the French or of the English, and the water courses by which

  they might advance against New Spain, were used henceforth as leading arguments for an occupation of the Colorado Gila country and Monterrey. The names of those who fell heir to Quino's ideas are legion. The Jesuits José de Ortega in 1754, Andrés Burel in 1757, and Francisco Javier Alegre in 1767, published books in which were set forth similar arguments to those that Quino had made. The same things came out in the memorials of Campos, Settlemeyer, Escobar, head of the

  Jesuits in New Spain, Pedro Altamirano, head of the order in Spain, and Juan Antonio Baltasar, also of the Jesuit order, and of other individuals such as Captain Juan Bautista de Anza, father of the Anza who headed the expeditions of 1774 and 1775-76 to Alta California, Bishop Benito Crespo of Puebla, a certain José de Mesa, Captain Fernando Sanchez, and another military officer named Pedro de la Baquera.

  Royal officials in Mexico City and Spain were distinctly interested. Nearly every viceroy and the fiscalis of the Audencia of Mexico and the Council of the Indies gave these projects their serious consideration, and so also did Spanish ministers of state such as Cardinal Albarone, Fernando Triviño, and the Marqués de Ensenada, and Julian de Arriaga. Footnote. The Fiscales were individuals attached to the Audencias and the Councils

  whom matters were referred to for an opinion. They were lawyers, but their advice was not confined to the legal affairs. In practice, during the 18th century, they were among the most important individuals in the Spanish administrative system, whether in Spain or in the colonies. As a general rule, the opinions of the Fiscales were followed verbatim. Particularly was this true of the Fiscales of the Council of the Indies. In footnote. King Philip V was so much

  interested that he attended meetings of the Council of the Indies in which these matters were discussed. Among the outstanding memorialists of the other government officials were José Gallardo, Visitador and Senora in 1748 to 1749, and the Marqués de Altamira, an official of the Audencia of Mexico. It should be stated that very few of these individuals recognized that they were following in Quino's footsteps, but the fact that so many of them reached virtually the same

  conclusions, though independently, proves how important the matter of an advance to the Californias by way of the Gila and Colorado was regarded. It will not be possible to give in detail the views of these men, but a reference to some of their recommendations may well be made. The entire period under consideration was filled with royal decrees evincing interest in the extension of conquests in the Californias and in the occupation of the Colorado and Gila

  basins. Especially notable was one of January 29, 1760, for which Alberoni, then dominant in Spanish politics, is said to have been responsible. Although it is likely that he was influenced by the memorials of Quino, whose ideas appear in the decree. The decree itself was like many another, asking information as to the progress of conversions in the Californias, referring to the great importance of promoting spiritual conquests there, and ordering the Viceroy

  to fulfill the decree of July 26, 1708, requiring him to take steps in the matter. At the same time, orders were given to promote the advancement of the Sonora missions, and verbal instructions were issued to the Viceroy to explore the Pacific coasts and to found colonies and procedios there. In addition to these colonies, Alberoni planned, quote, in like manner to advance the Spanish domain with the new settlements in the vast unknown

  territories to the north of Sonora from the Gila and Colorado rivers onward, end quote. The last name settlements might send their products to the new colonies on the coast, and receive in exchange what they needed, he argued. These regions were not to rely on New Spain and Europe for trade, but were to develop commerce with the Philippines. Alberoni was not left in peace to work out his ideas, and a few years later, after a stormy

  career in power, he found himself in exile from Spain. The Viceroy called a junta, however, to act upon the decree of 1716, and all but one member approved a plan to found at least one colony on the west coast of the Californias. Footnote. The Junta de Guerra y Real Hacienda of the Viceroyalty was one of the most important institutions in Spanish colonial administration. Its consent was necessary for the expenditure of royal funds, and it was often called upon to

  deliberate whether a given project should be ordered or not. It was, however, very human in its workings, in that a viceroy could override the law and dominate or even dispense with the junta, if he so desired. The number of members varied, but it was usually about ten or twelve. Most of them held administrative posts connected with financial affairs, and were in the capacity of the subordinates of the viceroy. Ordinarily, the viceroy welcomed the councils of the junta,

  and followed them, just as, on other matters, he accepted the suggestions of the fiscal. Special juntas of experts in a given matter were also called from time to time, but these bodies were purely consultative. In footnote. The member in opposition was a Jesuit, and his views, supported by others of his order, were allowed to prevail. The Jesuits feared that the new colonies would prove a detriment to the work of conversion,

  then being carried on by them in Baja California. The next capital moment along the line of the overland advance came as a result of a most extraordinary incident. In 1736, a remarkable silver mine was discovered at or near a place called Arizonac, or Arizona, just south of the border of the present-day state of Arizona. The more usual name for the mine at that time was bolas de plata, balls of silver, or planchas de

  plata, nuggets of silver, because the precious metal was found in balls or nuggets of almost pure silver. These were on or near the surface, and were of immense size, some of them weighing a ton or more. Accounts differed, but there were several stating that the largest nugget weighed 3,500 pounds. One of the reputed finders, Fermin, spoke of a 4,000 pound nugget and said that there were many of about 500 pounds. There was an immediate rush of miners to that spot. Captain

  Anza of Fronteras interfered with them, claiming that the bolas belonged properly to the king. According to the law, one-fifth of the silver accrued to the king if the discovery were a mine, but if it were a hidden treasure, the king was entitled to all. Anza claimed that if it were not a hidden treasure, it was at least a criadero, or growing place of silver, and therefore belonged to the national treasury. The viceroy reversed Anza's decision, but the royal decree of 1741

  sustained the Fronteras captain. It is doubtful whether Anza could have held back the miners if the mines had proved to be extensive, and it is said that his interference was not very effective anyway, the greater part of the wealth going to the discoverers. Anza himself stated that he had difficulty in saving any for the king. Although the region was rich in mineral wealth of the ordinary type, the bolas seemed to have been but a superficial deposit, and nothing is heard of them

  after 1741. Nevertheless, the bolas incident did lead to an official consideration of northwestward conquest by way of the Colorado and Gila rivers. The bolas de plata were a definitely proved item of wealth, which was infinitely more important than, for example, a fabled mountain of gold. Where so much silver had been found, there was good reason to expect that more existed. It was this incident that gave rise to the memorials of Anza, Bishop Crespo, and Mesa recommending an

  extension of the Spanish conquest. Writing to the viceroy on January 14, 1737, about the discovery of the bolas, Anza said, quote, The discovery of these balls of silver, most excellent sir, an unprecedented wealth under the circumstances and right at the limits of Christian conquest, has come so like a bolt from the blue that many learned, zealous, and prudent men deem it a sign from the ever-merciful God, author of all things, that we should push farther into

  the interior. Though indeed the quantity of wealth discovered is not overwhelming in amount, it is, in such form that it is, strong evidence that greater riches may be found by which the reduction of souls may be brought about, just as has happened elsewhere in both Americas. I am aware of the fact that many projects which were proposed in entire earnestness in former years have not been successful on account of the difficulties experienced in practice

  in various provinces and in different cases, and much money has been expended. But in order that there shall be a beginning, and here my project begins, of a discovery up to the Colorado River and some leagues beyond, it need not cost much. The funds can be procured, perhaps, from pious individuals, and I shall contribute horses, cattle, mules, and small articles as gifts for the Indians. This project is, in my opinion, the best way to bring about what shall in the future seem

  desirable, and as the inhabitants of the Colorado Gila country are industrious, it is to be presumed that it will not be difficult to reduce them. It would be otherwise if they lived by hunting with a bow and arrow and upon the wild fruits and roots, for it would then be almost impossible to conquer them, as I know from experience." Anza also quoted a number of reports of early explorers and reviewed the evidence for belief in the wealth of the North. The vast ruin on the Gila,

  known as the Casa Grande, and an even greater one in Chihuahua, built, he thought, by Aztec kings in the course of their migration southward, were mentioned by him in support of this belief. Indians of the Gila had told Jesuit visitors of the existence of quicksilver in the North. Anza had something to say, too, of the island California, of the strait through the continent, and of the seven cities, Gran Teguayo and Cavira, and, as usual, as already indicated,

  the vast number of Indians awaiting conversion was adduced as an argument for an expedition. Favorable action was taken on Anza's proposal in 1737-1738, both in Mexico City and in Spain, but before matters had reached the stage of an expedition, the Fronteras captain lost his life in 1739 in a battle with the Apaches. It was in any event, too early for the execution of this plan, who the limited resources Spain would have been willing

  to apply. The situation in Sonora was not yet favorable for an advance unless the government were ready to make an extraordinary effort, or unless a man of exceptional ability should appear on the scene to make slender means serve great ends. Important action was taken, however, though not precisely what Anza had proposed. The government's hand in Sonora was strengthened through the founding of two procedios, and the day of land communications with Alpa California

  was advanced in just the ratio that contributed to the peace of regions along the line of march thereto from New Spain. Meanwhile, the government never lost sight of the project of occupying the Californias through the means of Spanish settlements as well as by strengthening the Jesuit missions. George Anson, commander of an English naval vessel, had contributed to this attitude on the part of Spain, for he had appeared off the west coast of New Spain in 1742

  and had subsequently captured the Galleon in the Philippines. This period was also one of great activity on the part of the French. At least the Spanish government was much worried lest they should push their conquests to the headwaters of the Colorado and down that river to the Gulf of California. The discussions eventually came to revolve about five memorials drawn up in 1751 by Fernando Sanchez, a captain of Cuirassiers in Sinaloa and Sonora, four of them

  combined in one document and addressed to the king, and the fifth directed to Ohunta which had been called in Mexico City. The first three aimed at the internal development of Sinaloa and Sonora as the necessary prerequisite to an advance of the frontiers. Sanchez recommended the secularization of the missions in Sinaloa and southern Sonora, the removal of unruly elements, undesirable whites, and some of the malcontent tribes such as the Seres, Pimas, and Apaches, especially the last

  named, from the province, and a better provision for agricultural and mineral development. Footnote. The secularization of the missions meant the removal from missionary rule and the succession of the secular clergy to spiritual authority. The Indians were emancipated from economic control and given the lands of the missions. In theory, it indicated that the conversion and civilization of the native were reasonably complete. In fact, it meant that the

  region in question had ceased to have the characteristics of a frontier province. The fourth memorial, looking toward conquests in the region of the Colorado and Gila, contained the matter of chief interest to Sanchez, who devoted the letter with which he remitted the four representations to a summary mainly of the fourth. In this letter he said, Sir, France is secretly taking great strides to extend her settlements to the frontiers of ours,

  encircling us from our borders on the east until now she finds herself along that of the north in the vicinity of New Mexico, and she has only to turn slightly to the west to come upon the South Sea, the Pacific Ocean, where the Carmelo River empties. It is very important to your crown to resolve upon the founding of strong settlements in the regions of the Colorado and Gila. When this is done, it will serve three ends. One, to prevent the French conquest from ever penetrating to the

  South Sea. Second, the great advantage it will be as a base of operations for our conquests along those nations of Indians in the regions of the Colorado and the Gila. And third, so that we, vassals of your majesty, shall occupy Alta California, the richest and most abundant land that this vast kingdom contains. In this way, it will follow that within a few years, it will be necessary to place a viceroy in San Juan, Sonora, or the royal mining camp and city

  of Chihuahua, whose jurisdiction shall comprise the governments of Sonora, New Mexico, Nueva Vizcaya, and the conquests of the Colorado River. According to this arrangement, the troops in those parts will be governed by quick and more efficacious measures to the advantage of your royal service, and in course of time, many other favorable considerations will accrue. The matter in brackets was supplied from the original of the memorial,

  which combines the four representations of the king in a document of 114 pages. In the memorial proper, Sanchez referred to a westward branch of the Colorado, which might prove to be the Carmelo, thus furnishing the French with an easy route to Monterrey. In the document that he directed to the Junta, Sanchez urged an expedition to explore a route to the sea at the point where the Carmelo emptied, though the Colorado River

  settlements should first be made secure. And he added that an establishment on the Carmelo would be useful both for the Manila galleon and as a check against foreign enemies, particularly the French. The French were very near the mother range of the American mountains, and if they ascended that, they would find the Pacific before them. The Spanish government now displayed more interest than ever before. Jose de Goyeneche, fiscal of the Council of the Indies, said of

  the Sanchez proposals that they seemed to him to be, quote, so important, especially that of the prompt conquest and settlement on the Colorado River, because of the grave damage that may be occasioned to the kingdom of New Spain and its provinces by any post advantage that may advance the French nation, that it will be fitting to charge the Viceroy to devote his primary attention to the conquest and settlement which Don Fernando Sanchez proposes, inasmuch as by the conquest and

  dislodgement of the Serri, Tiburon, Carrizo, and Salenero Indians, the way to the Colorado and Gila Rivers has become free, end quote. The Indians referred to were all resident in Sonora, and it had recently been reported that Governor Ortiz, that is Diego Ortiz Parria, often referred to as Parria, had overwhelmed them in 1750. In fact, Ortiz's conquests had far from removed the fangs of these enemies. The Council of the Indies adopted the view of Goyeneche and proceeded to discuss the

  advantages of occupying Monterrey, if only to forestall the French. Meanwhile, the same interest was being shown in Mexico City. One new note appears in a voluminous memorial of 1751 by the Marqués de Altamira. He pointed out, correctly, that the problems of occupying the Colorado Gila country could not be separated from those of the frontier as a whole. From the Californias to Texas, the conditions of which he reviewed. This, to be sure, was not the

  first time that Spaniards had grasped the unity of the frontier as a result of the widespread Indian wars. It was this idea that had caused the government to send out Pedro de Rivera in the years 1724 to 1728 to inspect the procedios of the whole northern frontier. Altamira's service lay in pointing out that this problem affected projects of conquest to the northwest, as well as that of directly defending what Spain already possessed. The bulk of his memorial, however, was devoted

  to the proposed conquest by way of the Colorado and Gila. He favored the founding of settlements there as a nucleus for an advance to the Californias and, in time, to New Mexico. Matters seemed ripe for the extraordinary effort which could have overcome the hindrances to conquest when a revolt to the Pimas of Primaria Alta in 1751 cooled Spanish ardor. On hearing of this, the fiscal of the council recommended, in 1752, that action on Sánchez's proposal should be

  postponed until Sonora were restored to peace, and such was the decision of the council. Several additional procedios were established in Sonora, however. Furthermore, Sánchez had formulated a plan which, with the addition of the suggestion contained in Altamira's memorial, became the program of the government during the next thirty years, though Sánchez's ideas, and the credit therefore, were taken over by José de Galves. But Sánchez, in turn, had merely fitted Quinoz's

  program to the new circumstances of his own times. After 1752, the authorities gave their principal attention during the next twenty years to the question of establishing good order in Sonora. But the plans for north-westward advance were at no time given up. Between 1753 and 1761, the spur of the French conquest toward New Mexico and the Pacific coast was more active than ever. In 1757, Father Andrés Buriel published anonymously the three-volume Noticia de la California,

  which has usually been ascribed to Father Miguel Venegas. In addition to the old ideas of the Jesuits as to the necessity of developing the land route to Baja California around the head of the Gulf, Buriel stated more clearly than any other writer ever has why Baja California, the most disagreeable barren and wretched country in the world, should have been a matter of so much concern to the Spanish crown and the Jesuits. It was because of its location, said Buriel,

  that the conquest of California had long been preferred to that of any other American country. If the peninsula were unoccupied, the whole western coast of New Spain, quote, from Acapulco to the Colorado River would be unsafe, especially if some European power should erect colonies, forts, and presidios on the coast of the Californias, unquote. This consideration led him to desire that the Spanish missions of Sonora and the Californias

  should be connected with those of New Mexico and extended beyond the Gila and Colorado to San Diego, Monterrey, and even the reputed Aguilar's River in Alta California. Almost as important in its effects as Buriel's suggestions in themselves was the notice which the work attracted in European countries. It was almost at once translated into the leading tongues of Western Europe, and the English translator showed a smug appreciation of the great strategic advantages

  England would enjoy if his countrymen might discover the Northwest Passage and establish themselves in Alta California, a land of, quote, a pleasant climate and fruitful soil from which they, the English, may with certainty command the most valuable branches of commerce that have been hitherto discovered, unquote. With the signing of the two treaties of 1761 and 1762, known jointly as the Family Compact, the peril from the French disappeared as France and Spain then leagueed

  themselves together in opposition to England. Danger from the English almost immediately succeeded to the same or even greater place in Spanish councils, for in 1763 England added the vast American possessions of France to her already large colonial domain. England was also a far more threatening enemy by sea than France had been. Nevertheless, it was natural to expect that less attention would be paid to an advance of the Spanish conquest toward Alta California than in

  former years. Spain's crushing defeat in the war of 1762 to 1763 against England and her preparations for a renewal of the contest took about all in the way of funds that Spain could get together. Furthermore, it had by this time been proved that Sonora was not in a sufficiently settled state to permit of a normal and reasonably easy advance. So once again Spain confined her efforts for a while to strengthening her garrisons in that rich but restless province along the

  northwestern border of the Kingdom of New Spain. It remains to give brief consideration to those factors on which the permanence of the settlements eventually founded in Alta California was in fact to depend. The obstacles, or more particularly the hostile Indians that stood in the way of an establishment of communications between Sonora and Alta California, and the internal development of Sinaloa and Sonora, which were, in time, to provide the more northwesterly province

  with a sinews of continuous existence. Indian wars were a continual factor tending to retard the development of the frontier provinces and thereby to check the Spanish north-westward advance. The Apaches began their raids into Sonora before the close of the 17th century, though northern Nueva Vizcaya, modern Chihuahua to the east, was their principal object of attack. In 1695, there was a serious revolt of the Pimas of Primera Alta, and in 1699 the wars

  with the Seres in the region between the Yaqui and Sonora rivers commenced. It would be profitless to recite the many wars of the next half century or more. Hardly a year passed without at least one military campaign, and frequently there were serious outbreaks. At every crucial moment in plans for north-westward advance, the Indians by the revolts were sure to provide the authorities with unanswerable arguments as to the untimeliness of the projects. In 1737,

  when Anza of Fronteras made his suggestion of an expedition to the Gila and Colorado, the Pimas of the coast revolted and took refuge in the Serra Prieto, an almost impregnable mountain stronghold in the vicinity of Guaymas. Anza subdued them, but soon had to turn about to meet the Apaches, losing his life in the battle against them in 1739. In 1740-1741, the Mayos and Yaquis in the south rose against the mission system, to which they had for many years been reduced.

  Indian wars in Sonora were even more prominent in the period of the Sanchez representations. Governor Ortiz had to undertake a campaign against the Seres in 1750. Alluding to this, in a letter of 1751, the Viceroy referred to the Seres and their neighbors as the disturbing factor which for over a century had proved a hindrance to further exploration of the Gila and Colorado rivers and to the establishment of communications between the Californias and the

  mainland. Another letter of the same year made mention of northeastern Sonora as one of the regions where the Apaches were wont to commit their depredations. Then came the Pima revolt of 1751, which caused the shelving of Sanchez's projects. All of the missions, villages, mining caps, and ranches in the northwest were destroyed, and two missionaries and perhaps a hundred other whites lost their lives. Troops were rushed to the scene, and the rebellion was crushed in 1752,

  but it was twenty years before prosperity returned to Primaria Alta. The Seres had risen again in 1751, and from that time until 1771 they were almost constantly at war with the Spaniards, taking refuge when hard pressed in the Cerro Prieto. Apache warfare was equally continuous and annoying. Indeed, for the frontier provinces as a whole it was far worse, for it ranged from Sonora to Texas. One of the best descriptions of Apache warfare was provided

  by Pedro de la Baquera, who probably in 1760 or 1761 petitioned the king for a right to make explorations in the vicinity of Arizoldac and for the command of a presidio in that region. This petition he accompanied by three memorials which make it manifest that he was a direct heir of Sánchez's ideas, but as no action seems to have been taken upon them they need not be discussed, except as they bear upon the Apaches. The memorial about the Apaches, which shows a keen

  knowledge of frontier conditions and accounting for the failure to conquer these Indians, has been summarized in a recent work as follows. The Apaches, when attacked, habitually retired to the mountains which were inaccessible to the presidial troops. This was due not merely to the fact that the latter were cavalrymen, but to the nature of the soldiers themselves. Most of them were mulatos of very low character,

  without ambition, and unconquerably unwilling to travel on foot, as was necessary in a mountain attack. Moreover, their weapons carried for so short a distance that the Apaches were want to get just out of range and to make open jest of the Spaniards. Furthermore, some presidial captains were more interested in making a personal profit out of their troops, arising from the fact that part of the latter's wages was paid in effects, than they were in subjecting the enemy, nor did

  the various captains work in harmony when on campaigns. Continuance of the Apaches and Apacheria was in the highest degree prejudicial. Not only were they a hindrance to conquests toward the Colorado and in the direct route between Sonora and New Mexico, but also they endangered regions already held by Spain, leading subjected Indians, either from fear or from natural inclination, to abandon missions and villages and, whether in alliance with the Apaches or by

  themselves, to commit the same kind of atrocities as the Apaches did. La Baquera recommended that 200 mountain fusiliers of Spanish blood be recruited in Spain, equipped, among other things, with guns of long range and dispatched to New Spain for service against the Apaches. These men, under a disinterested leader, would quickly subject the Apaches and might then be given lands in that region. Being of a higher stamp than the procedural soldiers,

  they would be eager to develop the lands and would be a permanent source of strength to that country. In fine, expeditions against the Apaches accomplished little, as the Indians could never be brought to a general engagement. Often the Apaches took advantage of the expeditions against them to raid the country about the procedios, thus deprived of its usual guard. It is impossible to estimate the damages suffered in Sonora, writes Burial, especially since the

  death of the brave Captain Onza in villages, settlements, farms, roads, pastures, woods and mines, many of which have been abandoned on that account, although very rich. Even the mission Indians could no longer be controlled and the Jesuits feared to discipline them, lest it should provoke a revolt. The Jesuits had very greatly lost influence since the Pima Revolt of 1751, though this was in a large measure a reflection of the world campaign being waged against them,

  and their conflicts with the military and the settlers had now reached the proportions of a serious problem in itself, affecting the good order of Sonora. The missions themselves showed the effects, for a few converts were obtained after 1751. The old and the infirm and the women and children resided at the missions, but the able-bodied men rarely came in unless impelled by hunger or by fear of the Apaches. They remained in the mountains or aided the

  stirring up trouble. Meanwhile, demands of the white settlers for secularization of the missions became more insistent, and by 1755, 22 missions of Sinaloa had been taken away from the Jesuits and placed under the authority of the Bishop of Durango. A review of the internal conditions of Sinaloa and Sonora shows that at no time were the affairs in such a state as to warrant an extension of the frontiers unless a more than ordinary effort were to be made. Nevertheless,

  there was much progress. By 1763, Sinaloa had undergone adjustment to white rule and could no longer be considered a frontier province. Much the same thing could be said for southern Sonora and part of the Sonora River Valley. The advances to the northwest did not need to be stayed on account of these regions. Northwestern Sonora and the Primaria Alta, though rich in mineral wealth, were far from being adjusted to an orderly state. Either governmental effort or else an unusual

  impulse to settlement, such as rich discoveries and precious metals, was needed there. The same thing was true of the coast regions where the Ceres and other malcontents live, but there the problem was in a measure more serious, as wealth in gold and silver did not exist, wherefore there was no great lure to attract white colonists. Indeed, as already stated, the line of conquest in the northwest had always followed that of mineral wealth.

  It would seem, therefore, that the situation in Sonora was not hopelessly bad if only the government would exert itself to conquer the Ceres and repulse the Apaches. But this it did not do at this time. Consequently, the authorities were frequently memorialized as to the best methods of saving the province, and many of the writers showed a great deal of pessimism and despondency. Footnote. Internal conditions of Sinaloa and Sonora are well illustrated by

  the statistics of population obtained by Bishop Tamaron while on the diocesan tour from 1759 to 1763. At that time, there were in the two provinces 32,000 of Spanish or mixed blood, and 31,000 Indians professing Christianity, of whom 25,000 lived in missions. There were 50 missions, most of them in Sonora. The number of unconverted Indians was very large, but no estimate of them was made. The greater part of the white population lived in Sinaloa.

  White settlements were the rule there, the exception being a few Indian villages along the coast where there was not the inducement of mineral wealth to draw the Spanish settler. There were some considerable towns in Sinaloa. San Felipe de Sinaloa had a white population of 3,500, Fuerte, otherwise San Juan de Montes Claros, 1886, Rosario, 2459, San Sebastián, 2,500, Culiacán, 2,216, and Mazatlán, 966. These places had nearly half the total white

  population of the two provinces. Secularization of the missions had taken place in most of Sinaloa, although the Jesuits were more numerous than the secular clergy, but they usually served as parish priests, the mission system prevailing but little. Much of this change came as a result of the Sanchez memorials, having occurred prior to Tamarón's visit. There were probably not many unconverted Indians in Sinaloa, or if they were, they caused no trouble. In Astamuri, as that part

  of the Sonora below the Yaqui was then called, conditions were almost as good as in Sinaloa. Alamos had a population of 3,400 of white or mixed race, Bayorca, 1,004, Río Chico, 1,400, Trinidad de Plata, 715, and Soyopa or San Antonio de la Huerta, 300. All of these were mining towns. Farther north, in the mountain districts near the Sonora Valley, there were a number of mining towns at considerable distances from a presidio, such as Arevichi,

  Sahuaripa, Nakori, and Arrispe. In northeastern Sonora, where the Apaches were wont to make raids, most of the white population was grouped around presidios there and nearby in Nueva Vizcaya. There being 484 at Fronteras. Near the coast, where the Seres and their allies were numerous, and precious metals not plentiful, there were no whites. The case with Primeria Alta was a little better, due to the existence of gold and silver. There were eight missions, Suamca, Guelavi,

  Bac, Zarique, Tubutama, Atí, Caborca, and San Ignacio, and three presidios, Terranate, Tubay, and Altar. Subsidiary to these were a number of lesser settlements. In the Mission districts, there were 4,223 Indians and 348 whites, the latter being at the mining camps of Guelavi, Santa Barbara, Buena Vista, Arazonac, and Santa Anya. At the presidios, there were no Indians, but there were 1,117 whites, including garrisons of 50 men at

  each presidio. All of the white settlements of Primeria Alta were within easy reach of the presidios, without which they could not have existed. Nevertheless, incontrovertible evidence is at hand that if conditions in Sonora were lacking in stability, it was because the government would not go to the expense, or rather reduce its profits, in order to apply a remedy. The principal financial institution of the government

  in its dealings with the frontier provinces was the Real Caja Royal Treasury of Guadalajara. A study of its operations over the period from 1743 to 1781 shows that it sent 86 percent of its receipts to the parent Caja Real in Mexico, or occasionally small sums to others. Of this amount, from half to a third was subsequently returned to provide for the expense of the frontier provinces. The rest, from 40 to 60 percent of the total, was either sent to Spain or at any rate used

  elsewhere than in the provinces of origin. Sonora, to be sure, was not responsible for any great share of this profit. But if a larger portion of the total might have been applied in that province, it would not have been very difficult to overcome the obstacles that were withholding the northwestward advance. The reason for Spain's policy is not hard to find. During these years, she was straining every nerve to cope with European problems, and especially to defend herself from

  the imperialism of England. Thus, many other objects which were desirable in themselves had to be sacrificed, and the extension of her frontier beyond the Gila and Colorado to Alta California was one of them. Spain's choice, then, was only one more of the myriad of factors tending to hold back the occupation of the rich northern province and to delay its populist development. And all this played into the hands of the as-yet unborn United States.

  End of chapter 15

• 16 - José de Gálvez

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  CHAPTER XVI. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. CHAPTER XVI. JOSÉ DE GALVÉS. The coming of José de Galvés as Vecitador General of New Spain marks a turning point in the history of north-westward advance. In him had appeared the long-needed, forceful,

  man who was able to overcome obstacles in the way of conquest and extend the frontiers to the north. Footnote. The Vecitador, or visitor, was one of the most typical of Spanish administrative agencies. The Vecita, or visit, is defined by Joaquín Escriche, a leading authority on Spanish law, as follows. The act of jurisdiction through which some superior informs himself of the proceedings

  of ministers of lower rank, or of subjects, or of the state of affairs in the districts of his jurisdiction, going in person to investigate or sending some other to do it in his name. The official making the Vecita was called a Vecitador, or, if engaged in a Vecita of major importance, a Vecitador General. The Vecita was frequently employed in the Spanish colonies in military, civil, and religious affairs, and for purposes

  both great and small. No two Vecitas were exactly alike, for every one depended on the particular circumstances which the Vecita was designed to meet. Nevertheless, all proceeded on much the same lines, and the Vecitador ordinarily superseded all other powers and authority within the jurisdiction of his Vecita. To be sure, the primary aims of his Vecita were financial, with a view to increasing the revenues of the Crown, and this caused him to give the

  larger share of his attention to the already well-settled parts of the viceroyalty. But at no time during the six years of his stay, 1765 to 1771, did he fail to show a most extraordinary interest in the problems having to do with the advance to the Californias, and some two years of his time, from 1768 to 1770, were devoted mainly to those questions. True, even in these matters he was probably interested chiefly in the possibilities from

  the standpoint of revenues, believing that the wealth of the frontier provinces and the Californias could be developed, to the advantage of the royal income, if peace might be established and an extension of the frontiers obtained. Perhaps there was just a shade of something quixotic in his occupation of Alta California in 1769. But if so, his tilting at windmills justified itself in the light of history, for the name of José de Galvez would almost have

  passed out of memory in the Americas, had it not been for the expeditions he sent out to take possession of San Diego and Monterrey. Who was this man who now appeared as an outstanding figure in the affairs of the Californias? José de Galvez was an Andalusian Spaniard, possessing many of the lively traits of his native province, together with an energy and ability which had enabled him to rise from obscurity to a position

  of power and influence. He was born on January 2nd, 1720, at the village of Macharraviaya, near Velez Malaga, on the southern coast of Spain. His family was noble and of ancient lineage, being of the rank Ejos Dalgo or Hidalgo. But that meant little in a land where the nobility of this grade was numbered by the hundreds of thousands. If there were others of lower degree and poorer to the verge of poverty, the Galvez family was at least not

  well endowed with worldly goods, and José and his brothers were simple country boys, without opportunities for education and advancement, eking out a living through tending the paternal flocks. When José was only eleven or twelve years old, he had the good fortune to attract the attention of the Bishop of Malaga, who took him to Malaga to educate him for the priesthood.

  It was this that gave Galvez his start in life. With the aid of his clerical sponsors, he at length became enrolled as a student in the University of Salamanca, where he began the study of law, eschewing the holy calling for which his first patron had wished to educate him. From the university he went to Madrid to practice law. For many years he was inconspicuous, but eventually opportunity again knocked at his door, apparently as a result of his finding a new

  and powerful patron. His second wife was a Frenchwoman, and through her Galvez became acquainted with the most eminent Frenchman in Madrid. His own knowledge of the French tongue and his grace and facility of expression helped him to retain the friendships he had made, and it was thus that he became the legal counselor of a secretary in the French embassy. Utilizing his opportunities in this capacity, he attracted the notice of the Spanish minister

  of state, the Marqués de la Grimaldi, who employed him as one of his secretaries. It was in 1765, when Galvez was in his 45th year, that the great chance of his life came to him. A visitation of New Spain for the purpose of increasing the revenues from that kingdom had been determined upon, but there was some difficulty in finding a suitable individual to do the work. Several appointments were considered or even made, but with the death

  of the most recent appointee in 1764, the post was still unfilled. It was then that the name of Galvez was brought forward, and on February 20th, 1765, he was named Vecitador General of New Spain. In the month of July of the same year, he reached Veracruz, and soon afterward took up the work of his visitation. With his manifold activities in the general affairs of the viceroyalty, such as his visitation at Veracruz and Acapulco, his institution of the tobacco monopoly,

  his expedition to Guanajuato, and the expulsion of the Jesuits, this volume has no concern. At the outset, he was handicapped by the opposition of the viceroy Cruías, but the latter was superseded in 1766 by the French-descended marquise Francisco de Croix, with whom Galvez was able to work in entire harmony. Indeed, they were the best of friends, and it was Galvez, rather than Croix, who must be considered the virtual ruler of New Spain during

  Croix's incumbency, 1766 to 1771. Of special concern, then, is the character of this very human individual to whom the Californians owe so much. Enough has already been said about his ability. This had to combine, however, with certain other traits ordinarily regarded as weaknesses, in order to produce the expeditions to Alta California, just as, in later years, the same traits served to diminish the value of his work from the standpoint of his own times.

  Galvez had risen from nothing, partly through currying favor, and had developed an insatiable personal ambition and a kind of egotism, which, if it did not express itself in his ordinary daily speech, was always at hand for the purposes of feathering his own nest. He was also capable of malignant vindictiveness against those who opposed him or belittled his achievements. On the other hand, he was amiable in personality and, in some respects, generous to a fault. His

  concern for the advancement of his own relatives, townsmen, and personal friends, if indeed it evidenced a certain kindliness and gratitude, was, nevertheless, of the worst sort of nepotism, and not altogether dissociated from what would, at the present time, be termed graft. It seems likely that Galvez's desire to win personal distinction entered into his plans for conquests in the Californias. He knew from Buriel's noticia of the importance of such

  conquests, and he also knew that no other region offered him a better opportunity. Therefore, he bent his energies to the accomplishment of this task using methods that savored distinctly of indirection, some instances of which will be given in the course of this in the next chapter, as well as those which were less open to objection. His enterprise was blessed with success, and but for the serious illness of the Vecitador, it would have been an

  even more striking achievement than it turned out to be. The expeditions of 1769 made use of the sea route from the mainland to Baja California, and from there, in two divisions, by sea again and up the peninsula, to Alta California. Nobody, more than Galvez, knew that this was a departure from the normal line of advance by the overland route through Sonora, but the Vecitador felt sure of his own measures in Sonora would soon link up the Alta California extremity with that province.

  Almost from the moment of his arrival in New Spain, Galvez began to give attention to the problems of the far northwest. Largely through his instrumentality, plans were made in the fall of 1765 for an expedition to Sonora to suppress the Indian insurrectionaries there. At his own request, Galvez was entrusted with the task of obtaining money to finance the expedition, for there was nothing in the royal treasury that the government was willing to devote for this purpose.

  The funds were to be raised by voluntary subscriptions, troops were to be enlisted, and ships were to be built on the Pacific coast to carry the Spanish forces to Sonora. Once the Indians were defeated, the ground was to be held by the founding of a number of settlements, the human material for which was to be drawn from the hopelessly poor or undesirable elements of the cities. Galvez's quarrel with Cruias delayed fulfillment of these plans, but after Croix's

  arrival in 1766, they were again taken up. The king, meanwhile, had given a reluctant consent, for he did not share in Galvez's belief in the efficacy of a formal expedition, or of the particular kind of colonists it was proposed to send. Nevertheless, a force of 350 men was recruited and placed under the command of Colonel Domingo Elizondo, who might also count on enough more Spanish soldiers and Indian auxiliaries in Sonora

  to swell his numbers to more than a thousand. In April 1767, Elizondo and his men left Mexico City for Tepec, where they were to be quartered until the boats could be gotten ready to take them to Sonora. Not until March 1768 did they at length disembark at Guaymas, ready to begin the campaign. That the expedition was undertaken at all had been due to Galvez, for there were few who shared his enthusiasm. The visitador, however, had left no stone unturned to gain his

  ins. A letter by him to Governor Juan Pineda of Sonora in the fall of 1766 shows the trickery he was willing to employ, even to deceive his good friend Croy. After giving some inexpensive flattery to Pineda, Galvez went on to tell of the opposition of his enemies to the project of the Sonora expedition, and of the need for some counterbalancing arguments to influence the new viceroy's decision. Continuing, Galvez said, quote, From this information, which I give you

  informally and confidentially, you will infer how necessary it is that you impress upon his excellency at once the indispensable need of the expedition, and inform him that it is not impossible to conquer the Indians once and for all by force, if the plan is adopted of sending thither veteran troops. You may add anything else which will remove the fear or hesitation which perverse envious persons desire to instill into his excellency's mind through sheer malignity.

  The Marquis de Croy, I repeat to you, esteems my discourse above that of all others, but as he observes that I am of another profession, not military, and as he knows that I have not been in that country, he may lack confidence in the success of the expedition to which he sees me with the greatest ardor committed. Hence, it is fitting that you, in your report to him, express yourself as forcefully as you did for the purpose of arousing enthusiasm in me, a golela, a mere

  lawyer. In this case, this will be the easier to do, as his instincts are all military. End quote. No doubt Pineda complied with this virtual order. Galviz's character was such that it might have gone hard with him if he had not, for the Vesitador did not easily forgive those who opposed him. At any rate, Croy supported the expedition more readily than Galviz had anticipated, and the project was given full and fair trial. Footnote. During his expedition of 1767 to 18

  Guanajuato, Galviz punished the inhabitants of that region with a ruthless hand for the rebellion they had engaged in. But even in this case, he did not neglect to employ his usual methods of indirection and self-exculpation. It is said that he would pray long hours and would ask the Virgin what to do with the rebels. At length, he would lift his hand for a pen to write down the judgment of the Virgin, and the sentence was one of death. History records few more extreme instances of

  shifting the burden from one's own shoulders than this. In footnote. The suppression of Indian warfare in Sonora was only an incident in the vast program of the Vesitador, who intended to go to Sonora himself to put his ideas into execution as soon as Elizondo should have triumphed in the military campaign. The keynote of his plans was his proposed establishment of a new government independent to the viceroyalty of New Spain to embrace the frontier provinces of Nueva

  Vizcaya, Sonora, Sinaloa, and the Californias. Similar plans had frequently been suggested in earlier years, on the ground that the viceroy of Mexico City was too far away to give these distant regions their proper share of attention. The direct ancestors of Galvez's plan were the Sanchez recommendations of 1751, and a proposal of 1760 for a viceroyalty made up of the provinces within the jurisdiction of the Audencia of Guadalajara. The Galvez projects were embodied

  in four important documents of the year 1768. The Vesitador maneuvered so as to make it appear that he was agreeing to suggestions made by others, or at least merely sharing in the origination of ideas of which it happened that he heartily approved. In fact, he was the prime mover in all of these matters, as is clearly set forth in the correspondence of the viceroy. In the case of the Junta of February 25th, which granted wide powers to Galvez, the Vesitador made

  a showing of modesty by refraining from casting a vote. But his secretary tells us that he had, in fact, dominated the Junta and had dictated its decision three days before it met. The first of the four great documents was the recommendation of the Vesitador on January 15th for the establishment of a system of intendancies in New Spain designed to increase the profits of the crown. This aimed at the collection of internal revenues by officials called intendants,

  of whom there were to be eleven. Three of these were to be in the new frontier government in Durango, Sonora, and the Californias. The inclusion of the Californias is the noteworthy feature of the plan, for that territory had figured heretofore only as a drain on the royal estate. Galvez intended that it should be more thoroughly occupied and developed. On January 21st, a Junta was called to decide who should head the expedition to the frontier provinces, and it is not surprising

  that Galvez was selected, since he had so determined. He was to wait until the troops had restored peace, and was then to reorganize the government and establish colonies. Two days later, the Galvez plan, signed also by Croy, for a new government of the frontier provinces, was ready. As already stated, the Galvez plan provided for a government of the provinces of Nueva Vizcaya, Sinaloa, Sonora, and the Californias, apart from the Viceroyalty.

  It was to be called a commandancy general, ruled by a commandant general, who was to be a Viceroy in all but the social distinction which went with the latter title. It was expected that the plan would restore peace to the frontier, and that then, in a few years, those vast provinces, which were described as undoubtedly richer in mineral products than any that had been discovered in North America, might equal or even surpass those of New Spain. Great emphasis was

  placed upon the preventative importance of the plan, as against the dangers of foreign attack. Attention was called to the opportunity and the keen desire of European powers to establish themselves at Monterey, or elsewhere along the coast of the Californias, and the government was reminded of the efforts the French and English had made during two centuries to find a passage to the Pacific from their colonies on the Atlantic. Now that England had taken the colonies of France,

  said Galvez, she would not rest until she had pushed forward her discoveries to the Lake of the Woods, whence a great river flowed westward. If this river should prove to be the Colorado, or should reach the Pacific, then the English were already near New Mexico and not far from the Pacific. Reports had also been published in recent years, continued Galvez, showing that the Russians were encroaching upon the California coasts, and since Anson's voyage, the English and

  the Dutch had been acquiring information about Spain's ports in the Pacific, especially those of the Californias. Any one of these three peoples might easily plant a colony in Monterey, a port with excellent facilities for a settlement. Thus, Spain's possessions in the Pacific might be invaded and exploited as those of the Atlantic, from Virginia to Georgia, had been. Monterey ought to be occupied by Spain at once through the dispatch of a sea expedition.

  Later, the Comandante General should extend its frontiers in that direction and set up colonies and other ports. The capital of the Comandante General should not be in Durango, as the plan of 1760 had proposed, because that was too far from Sonora and farther still from the Californias. The capital ought to be on the Sonora frontier at or near the Gila. While it was being established, the government should set up at Caborca, the nearest settlement to the Californias,

  or at the junction of the Gila and Colorado rivers. The emphasis on conquering the Californias, it is to be noted, was one of the principal factors in the Galvez plan. Clearly, too, the Vecitador intended to make Sonora the province upon which the new conquest should depend, though as a temporary expedient, a sea expedition was to occupy Monterey. On February 25, a junta was again called to authorize the plans Galvez had made for his

  visit to the frontier. Among the provisions of the decision of the junta, which confirmed verbatim all that Galvez had asked, were the following. Galvez was to act not only in his capacity of Vecitador, but also with the authority of the Viceroy. He was to found a number of frontier settlements with armed colonists. Among these was to be the future capital of the Comandante General on the Sonora frontier, midway between the Californias and Nueva Vizcaya, and free commerce

  between Sonora and the Californias was to be permitted. Every one of these important documents received the sanction of the king. The Comandante General was not actually established until 1776, and the system of intendancies was postponed until 1786, but they formed the basis of Spanish action from the time of their enactment onward. The Comandante General would very likely have been put into effect in 1769 or 1770 if affairs in Sonora had gone to the Vecitador's liking,

  and if he had maintained his health during his visit there. In the meantime, however, he had planned to wait before going to Sonora until El Asondo's expedition should have triumphed over the Indians. Not understanding the difficulties of frontier warfare, he expected victory would be quickly obtained, and he left Mexico City on April 9, 1768, intending to make his way to the frontier, and taking with him a number of persons who were to settle there. Before going to Sonora,

  he proposed to found a department at the port of San Blas, and pay a visit to Baja California. These activities proved, in fact, to be preliminary to the great expeditions to Alta California of 1769, which merit separate treatment. Footnote. The principal authority for the material in this chapter is Priestley Herbert Ingram, José de Galvez, Visitor General of New Spain, 1765 to 1771. Berkeley, California, 1916. In University of California, Publications in History,

  Volume 5. End of footnote. End of chapter 16.

• 17 - The Spanish Occupation of Alta California

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  CHAPTER XVII. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. CHAPTER XVII. THE SPANISH OCCUPATION OF ALTA CALIFORNIA. When Galvez set out from Mexico City on April 9, 1768, his immediate object was that of founding the Department of San Blas.

  On January 11, 1768, Viceroy Croy, at Galvez's suggestion, had issued an instruction for the establishment of a settlement at San Blas, stating that it was deemed indispensable after Sonora and the rest of the frontier should have been pacified to found a port for the advantage of boats employed on similar expeditions or in commerce with Sonora, and also for the preservation and advancement of the Californias.

  In other words, San Blas was to be the base of supplies in New Spain for the region of the proposed Comandante General. It seems highly probable that Galvez himself was already planning, as one phase of this project, an immediate occupation of Monterrey and Alta California, based on the port of San Blas.

  Since this bears directly on the causes of the expeditions of 1769, the evidence is worth The devious routes by which the visitador was accustomed to proceed to his real aims should be borne in mind in considering this matter. It is usually stated that the Spanish court at Madrid received reports about Russian aggression in the Pacific Northwest and sent orders to meet them by the occupation of Alta California,

  wherefore the expeditions of 1769 were made. This view contains only a smattering of the truth. It is evident from Galvez's correspondence of 1768 that he and Croy had discussed the advisability of an immediate expedition to Monterrey long before any word came from Spain about the Russian activities.

  In December 1767, Galvez is reported by one of his secretaries to have been ardently at work on plans for a department at San Blas, and already to have charged a certain Manuel Rivera with the duty of establishing a port there. All this a month before Croy's instruction. The prominent place of Alta California in the plan for the new Commendancy General has

  already been alluded to, and one of the projects of that plan called for an immediate dispatch of vessels to occupy and colonize Monterrey. This is only one of many evidences of the direction of Galvez's interest toward the northern port. He had come to New Spain at a time when a number of works calling attention to the desires

  of other powers to gain a footing in the Californias were being published in Europe, and the Vecitador seems to have been acquainted with this literature. On April 22nd, 1768, Galvez reached Guadalajara, remaining in that city until May 4th. In referring to his stay in Guadalajara, the Audencia said that he had spoken of his plans for exploring the Californias.

  It was not until May 5th, after he had left that city, that Galvez received the mail from Croy telling of Russian explorations in the Americas. Footnote. Galvez's relations with the Audencia of Guadalajara furnish another interesting instance of the methods of this strange man.

  The report of the Audencia to the King, dated May 18th, 1768, was most laudatory of the Vecitador and his projects of government and conquest in the Northwest. Looking underneath the surface, one finds the following illuminating facts bearing upon the preparation of this report. Immediately after Galvez's own departure from Guadalajara, one of his secretaries appeared

  before the Audencia and asked that body to write to the King, approving all of Galvez's measures and especially congratulating the royal government on the fact that Galvez himself had been chosen to execute them. The Audencia did as requested, but one of the members of that body, Ramon González Vicera, had been opposed to this action.

  He accordingly wrote to the King, reporting what had happened and stating that he had signed his own name to the document of May 18th under protest. There is no direct evidence that Galvez had suggested the action of a secretary. The Vecitador was too crafty for that. But it is of record that González was made to feel Galvez's disapproval.

  He was soon suspended from his position on the charge that he had needlessly absented himself from meetings of the Audencia. In footnote, the Spanish minister to Russia had written to the royal government in Madrid late in 1767 that the Russian Empress was preparing expeditions for fresh attempts to establish communications between eastern Siberia and the Pacific coasts of the Americas.

  On January 23rd, 1768, the Marqués de Grimaldi, the Spanish minister of state, wrote to the viceroy about the rumors of Russian activities, saying that news had been received that the Russians had actually made a landing in North America, though at what degree of latitude it was not known, and had had a battle with the Indians in which they had suffered a loss of 300 Russian dead.

  After remarking that the Russians might be endeavoring to extend their commerce to those coasts, Grimaldi went on as follows, quote, The king has ordered me to inform your excellency of all that has just been set forth, so that you may make it known to the man appointed governor of California, giving him instructions about the vigilance and care that he ought to exercise in order to observe such attempts as the Russians may make there, frustrating

  them if possible, and giving notice of everything promptly to your excellency, so that you may report it to his majesty, end quote. This letter, it will be observed, did not order an expedition to Monterey, but it was sufficient to give an active man all the authority that he needed, especially if it is true that he had already determined to make such an expedition.

  Troy's letter of April 20th to Galvez is not at hand, but at a later date, in his instruction of 1771 to his successor, he had the following to say of this letter, quote, I thought that invasion would be made by the Russians by way of the famous port of Monterey, and transmitted the order of the court to the vicetador, bidding him to make an expedition by sea toward the threatened port.

  The vicetador, bethinking himself of the difficulties of a maritime expedition and being desirous of exploring the province, sent two expeditions, one by sea and the other by land, end quote. From this, it appears that Croy was far from ordering the occupation of Alta California, which Galvez in fact carried out.

  Perhaps because he himself intended to do very much more than the instructions called for, Galvez reserved the answer to Croy for more than two weeks. In the meantime, he reached San Blas on May 13th, and on the 16th called Ahunta to discuss the expeditions to Monterey. Not until May 20th did he write to Croy of his plans.

  The letter follows, quote, In fulfillment of his majesty's order, communicated to you on January 23rd by the Marquess de Grimaldi, concerning repeated attempts which the Russians have made to open communication with North America, and in consequence also of what you commanded in your letter of April 30th, enclosing a copy of the above-mentioned order, and recalling to mind the many conversations and reflections which we have previously had concerning the

  supreme importance and utility of taking possession of the port of Monterey, and establishing a presidio there, I am obeying your order to take such measures as I deem fitting for reaching that place by land or sea. As you leave to me discretion for the fulfillment of this order, it has seemed to me both fitting and necessary that I should inform you from here of the resolution which it was thought

  proper to take in this weighty matter." End quote. Thus cleverly did Galvez associate Croy with the enterprise. Before Croy could have had time to reply to him, the visitador embarked on May 24th for Baja California.

  In any event, the Viceroy was heartily in favor of the project, and so too was the government in Madrid, as soon as it was apprised of the matter. It remains to say that the Department of San Blas, from its very inception, served primarily as a supply depot for the Californias, and its relations to Sonora were by comparison rather slight.

  Doubtless Galvez had intended from the first that it should turn out that way. The Russian emergency was merely an incident in the long chain of foreign aggressions, real or imaginary, which had for nearly two centuries been the principle and the continuing cause of Spanish frontier advance, and the reported encroachments on this occasion were not more dangerous than those of other times.

  The true cause for the occupation of Alta California, which soon followed in 1769, was the permanent, not the immediate, foreign danger, together with the appearance of a man who, for all his faults, was endowed with the energy and administrative capacity that the enterprise required. The story of Galvez's activities in Baja California may be quickly reviewed or passed

  over in silence. Leaving San Blas on May 24th, 1768, he was driven back and forth by storms, and it was not until July 5th, 40 days later, that he was able to set foot in the peninsula. Thus, again, were the difficulties of the short voyage across the Gulf demonstrated. For nearly ten months thereafter, he remained in Baja California, reorganizing the government

  in the missions and preparing the expeditions to San Diego and Monterey. He had expected to find vast stores of wealth in the peninsula, for he shared the general belief of the times that the Jesuits had tried to conceal its resources in gold, silver, and pearls. No doubt, he soon disabused himself of this belief, for, now that the pearl fields had

  failed to yield so richly as in the past, there was very little ready-made or easily acquired wealth to be had in Baja California. Indeed, the settlements were in a wretched state. The military commissaries who succeeded the Jesuits had mismanaged the mission estates, epidemics had swept away hundreds of Indians, there was a revolt of the Indians in the south,

  and all in all, there was a situation of dire economic distress. It is said that the total population of the peninsula had sunk to fewer than 8,000 souls. Nevertheless, Galvez was not discouraged. If he said little henceforth about the wealth of Baja California, he many times emphasized the strategic importance of both that territory and Alta California.

  His experience must have confirmed him all the more in his original belief, however, that Sonora was the true center from which all the lines of advance to the northwest should radiate. The peninsula was not and could not be made to become a suitable storehouse for the advantage of Alta California.

  Indeed, Galvez had only visited Baja California, so he said at a later time, in order to occupy himself pending the advancement or the conclusion of the campaign in Sonora. As for the expeditions to Alta California, he threw himself into them with all possible vigor, drawing also upon the leading officials in Baja California to take part in them. Gaspar de Portola, governor of the province, was slated for the command, and Father Junípero

  Serra, who had only recently arrived to take over the former Jesuit missions, was appointed president of the new missions to be founded in Alta California. Indeed, Father Serra was named without any prior inquiry as to whether the post would be acceptable and without any chance to refuse. The whole plan met with his enthusiastic approval, however, though his superiors of the College

  of San Fernando vigorously opposed it, yielding only because they could not do otherwise. Though Portola and Serra ably seconded the visitador in his efforts, it is to Galvez, who had conceived the idea of the expeditions in the first place, that the chief credit is due for organizing them and starting them on their way. Arrangements were made for two expeditions by land and two by sea.

  Boats for the latter were procured by taking over the San Carlos and the San Antonio, otherwise Principe, which had been built to facilitate transport for the Sonora War. Livestock, provisions, and needed utensils were levied upon the missions of the peninsula. Indeed, all that they could spare, and in some cases more than that, was taken. To increase the military forces, orders were sent to Colonel Elizondo and Sonora, bidding

  him detach a company of 25 Catalan soldiers for service in Alta California. In November 1768, these men reached the peninsula, under the command of Lieutenant Pedro Fagas, later to become one of the greatest of the Spanish governors of Alta California. The San Carlos reached La Paz in December, but it had been so badly beaten by storms that it was already in a leaky condition.

  It was necessary to unload and careen the boat, and then to load it again. Galvez superintended these tasks in person, and often gave a hand in the actual labor of lading, thus greatly inspiriting the men. On January 9, 1769, the tiny little craft, for it was a ship of but 200 tons berthin, at last set sail.

  In all, there were 62 men aboard, including Vicente Villa, the commander, Fagas and his Catalans, and the engineer and diarist Miguel Constanzo. Among the others were two blacksmiths and a baker for the proposed settlements. Also, a quantity of church ornaments, agricultural tools, provisions, and seeds were carried. Galvez, on the Concepcion, accompanied the San Carlos as far as Cape San Lucas.

  There he saw the San Carlos double the Cape and strike for the north. Galvez now gave his attention to the San Antonio. Upon its arrival at Cape San Lucas on January 25, it was thought best to unload it and careen it, just as had been done in the case of the San Carlos. Not until February 15 did the San Antonio get underway.

  In addition to crew and cargo, some blacksmiths and carpenters were taken along. Juan Perez, a native of Majorca and a former master of the Manila Galleon, was in command. He was now to be, for several years, the principal maritime figure in the annals of Alta California. The total number of those on board has not been recorded. Turning to the land expeditions, Galvez sent out a first detachment under Captain Fernando

  de Rivera y Moncada, who had been in Baja California for more than a decade and was later to become a governor of the northern province. With him went 25 soldiers, three militeers, and 42 Christian Indians, who it was believed might prove useful both as interpreters and as assistants in converting the natives of the north, besides performing the drudgery of the expedition.

  Father Juan Crespi, a native of Majorca, intimate friend of Sarah, and one of the more notable of the Franciscans in Alta California in ensuing years, was also with Rivera. Gathering nearly 400 domestic animals from the missions as he went along, besides implements and provisions, Rivera made his way to Santa Maria de Los Angeles, then the most northerly mission.

  Finding insufficient pasture for his animals, he moved on to Velicata, situated in 30 degrees, about 150 miles due south of San Diego. From this point, he started for Alta California on March 24th. Meanwhile, the second land expedition under Governor Portala had departed from Loreto on March 9th, as eventually made up, his party included Father Serra, Sergeant Jose Francisco

  de Ortega, nine or ten soldiers, two servants of Portala and Serra, and 44 Baja California natives. Serra made the journey under difficulties, being troubled with an ulcer in his foot and leg, but he declined to be left behind. On May 14th, they founded the mission of San Fernando de Velicata, having reached that

  place the same day. On the 15th, Portala set out over Rivera's route to San Diego. One further expedition was sent, beyond the four originally planned. This went out on the San Jose, which had been built especially for voyages to the northwest coast.

  Nevertheless, like its predecessors, it had to be overhauled and repaired when it reached the peninsula in February. In May, the San Jose carried the Vecitador across to Sonora, whence it returned to Loreto and sailed for San Diego on June 16th. According to one account, the ship was never heard from again.

  According to another, it was so badly damaged by storms that it returned to San Blas for repairs, at length it departed for the north from Cape San Lucas in May 1770. In either case, the boat was lost with all on board. How many there were remains unknown. A volume of fascinating narrative might well be written about the experiences of the Argonauts

  of 1769. Here, unfortunately, it is impossible to give way to this very natural desire. The San Antonio, though it had started more than a month later than the San Carlos, was the first to reach San Diego, dropping anchor at that port on April 11th, after a voyage of 55 days.

  All on board, except the two friars, were sick or disabled, but no lives had been lost. Eighteen days later, the San Carlos arrived on April 29th. For a voyage which a modern steamer would make in several days, the San Carlos had taken no fewer than 110 days. Everybody on board was sick, and 24 of the crew, all but two of them, had died of the scurvy.

  On May 14th, Rivera's party got in. He had required 51 days and a march of some 400 miles to come from Villicata. Some of the Indians had died and a number of others had deserted. Occasionally, the natives along the route had shown a disposition to resist or annoy the party, but the noise of gunpowder provided a quick remedy for this source of trouble.

  The lack of water and a feed for the animals was a much more serious difficulty. Portola's march almost duplicated Rivera's, but on the whole was easier, since he was not burdened with the care of so many domestic animals. On the 1st of July, his party reached San Diego, having been on the road 48 days from Villicata.

  Portola says some of the Indians had died, but no other lives were lost. Only 12 of his 44 Indians reached San Diego, however. The rest had died or deserted. Thus were the expeditions reunited at San Diego, but many of the individuals who had started from Baja California were no longer included.

  Counting the men on the ill-fated San Jose, perhaps something fewer than 300 men had made up the original expeditions, about half of whom reached Alta California. A fourth of all who started had lost their lives. This was the toll to the perils of land and sea. The situation at San Diego was one which might have discouraged a less stout-hearted soldier

  than Governor Portola. Many were sick. Indeed, of those who had come by sea, hardly any were well. This might have been faced with more equanimity were it not that provisions were running low. Nevertheless, as one historian has put it,

  of discharging it." It was therefore decided that the San Antonio should return for supplies and to report the success thus far attained. Only eight sailors of the 28 who had made the northward voyage on that ship were able to go to sea.

  With this scant crew, Perez left for the south on July 9. It was also arranged that the San Carlos should sail for Monterey as soon as there should be enough sailors in health to man it. Portola himself was to go overland through an utterly unknown country to Monterey. On July 14 he started, accompanied by Costanzo, Fagas, and six of his Catalan soldiers who

  alone of the 25 were able to march, Captain Rivera and Sergeant Ortega with 26 soldiers, others Crespi and Gomez, seven muleteers, 15 Baja California Indians, and two servants of Portola and Rivera, or a company of 63 in all. The account of their long and terrible march, and indeed of all the experiences of the expeditions, is well set forth in a brief narrative by Portola.

  This was written several years later in September 1773 by the hand of Juan Manuel de Viniega, a former secretary of Galvez, who set it down as a statement of Portola in a conversation with an unnamed friend, presumably Viniega. Quote, While I was passing, my friend, through the missions established by the Jesuits to that

  one on the frontier named Santa Maria, we experienced no hardships worth mentioning. Neither I nor my companions, for in addition to the fact that we took from the Presidio vegetables and delicacies in exchange for the lamentations of the settlers, we were fortunate enough to be able to sleep under roofs and make the march with some comfort. In consideration of the great deserts into which I was going, and of the Russian hunger

  with which I foresaw we were going to contend, I was obliged to seize everything I saw as I passed through these poor missions, leaving them, to my keen regret, as scantily provided for as I knew the three southern ones had been left in consequence of the orders given by the Visita d'Or for dispatching the packet boats San Carlos and San Antonio to the port of Monterey.

  Thus equipped, I began my march to the bay named San Diego, in company with thirty soldiers of the Presidio and many Indian auxiliaries. But friend, in a few days we saw with extreme regret that our food was gone, with no source of supplies unless we should turn back. As a result, some of the Indians died and the rest of them deserted from natural necessity.

  So I was left alone with the curiosers. Without stopping the march we went on lamenting, now to the mountains to kill geese and rabbits, now to the beach for clams and small fish, and then in search of water, which we did not find for three or four days, the animals going twice that long without drinking, as we ourselves did sometimes.

  Overcoming these and other innumerable hardships, natural results of such unhappy fortune, we arrived at the port of San Diego, the spot at which the expeditionaries by land and by sea were to meet in accordance with the instructions of the visita d'or in a row, to recount to one another the great events which had happened to us and the discoveries incident to our journeys.

  The members of the sea expedition limited their account to the statement that the San Carlos had been 110 days and her consort 59 days in sailing 150 leagues, because the headwinds from the north and northwest are lords of those coasts throughout the year. Being attacked by scurvy, 34 persons died on the two vessels, and they saw nothing on their voyage save some islands so bare and terrible that they could not look at them

  without horror. In the face of these unfavorable reports, and of the similar one which we gave to them, I called a council of the officers and it was resolved by them that the packet boat San Antonio should return to the port of San Blas for provisions and men. Then, leaving the San Carlos and San Diego with two men and the missionary, the sick

  being placed under a hut of poles which I had erected, I gathered the small portion of food which had not been spoiled in the ships and went on by land to Monterey with that small company of persons, or rather say skeletons, who had been spared by scurvy, hunger, and thirst. We reached Monterey after struggling 38 days against the greatest hardships and difficulties,

  for aside from the fact that there was in all that ungracious country through which we passed after leaving the frontier, no object to greet either the hand or the eye save rocks, brushwood, and rugged mountains covered with snow, we were also without food and did not know where we were. For although the signs whereby we were to recognize the port were the same as those

  set down by General Sebastiano Viscaino and his log, the fact is that, without being able to guess the reason, we were all under hallucination and no one dared assert openly that the port was indeed Monterey. In this confusion and distress, friend, not under compulsion from the Russians, but from keen hunger which was wearing us out, we decided to return to San Diego for the purpose of

  recuperating our strength by means of the provisions which we judged would soon arrive there on the San Antonio. In order that we might not die meanwhile, I ordered that at the end of each day's One of the weak old mules which carried our baggage and ourselves should be killed. The flesh we roasted or half-fried in a fire made in a hole in the ground.

  The mule being thus prepared, without a grain of salt or other seasoning, for we had none, we shut our eyes and fell too on that scaly mule, what misery, like hungry lions. We ate twelve in as many days, obtaining from them perforce all our sustenance and all our appetite, all our delectation. At last we entered San Diego, smelling frightfully of mules.

  The Reverend Father President said to me, as he welcomed me, You come from Rome without having seen the Pope, alluding to the fact that we had not found the port of Monterey. We remained at San Diego nine months, waiting on the San Antonio, subsisting for that long period on geese and the fish and other food which the Indians brought us in exchange for clothing.

  Some of the soldiers were left with barely enough clothing to cover their backs, having given up the rest to avoid perishing from want. We planted a small quantity of corn in the best soil, but although it grew well, the birds ate the best of it while it was yet soft, leaving us all disappointed and bereft of the hope we had cherished of eating the grain which our own hands had sown.

  After nine months, our troubles were somewhat lessened by the arrival of the packet boat San Antonio. For, although nearly the entire crew had died of scurvy, we got very particular consolation out of the corn, flour, and rice which it brought. The captain of the vessel represented to me the impossibility of continuing his voyage

  on account of the loss of man and the bad condition of his vessel. But he nevertheless set sail with provisions for Monterey, leaving at San Diego what was necessary for the missionary and the eight soldiers who remained as an escort. With the sixteen remaining fusiliers and presidial soldiers, I began the second journey to the Saat 4 Monterey, on this occasion determining without mistake that we had found the port

  which Sebastián Vizcaino drew in detail in his log, we set up our camp, the San Antonio dropping anchor eight days later. I was not ignorant of the fact that the King of Spain had, for centuries, been owner and legitimate lord of those lands, but friend, as Article 8 of the Instructions of the Facitador General gave me to understand to the contrary, I repeated the formalities of taking legal

  possession which were therein ordered. In fulfillment of other orders, I proceeded to erect a fort to occupy and defend the port from the atrocities of the Russians who were about to invade us as was to be inferred from the terms of the instructions. Indeed, owing to the indefatigable zeal of the engineer Don Miguel Costanzo, we completed

  within 30 days the royal fortress which was built of poles and earth. It was equipped with some small cannon and manned with 20 men, including the missionary for whom we built a house as well out of the same material as the port. The mission received the glorious name of our August Sovereign, and the other two missions situated at moderate distances were called San Fernando and San Buenaventura.

  Being desirous of complying with all of the orders of the Facitador General, I went also to reconnoiter the port of San Francisco, 60 leagues distance. I did not linger there, nor did I see anything worthy of description there save only a labyrinth of bays and channels which inundate the territory. Having returned to Monterrey, I soon embarked for San Blas, on the coast of New Spain, where,

  Happily, I shortly arrived, for on the return voyage one travels as fast as Sancho Panza would have liked. You must be weary, friend, of listening to all the plagues which I encountered on my journey, but believe me also when I say that the unhappy Spaniards whom I left in those new settlements are at present enduring the same discomforts.

  I reported them all to the Viceroy and the Facitador General in official and confidential letters. Without reserve, I explained to them that it was impossible to send aid to Monterrey by sea, and still more so by land, unless it was proposed to sacrifice thousands of men and huge sums of money.

  Proofs of this fact are in the story of the packet boat San Jose, which, having left San Blas three years ago to carry out its provisions, has not yet appeared, nor has any newsman had of her, doubtless because all of her crew were attacked with scurvy, and no one was left to steer the ship away from disaster. I make into my conversation, finally, by replying to the questions which you asked at the beginning.

  The natives of California are so gentle that we never had to defend ourselves. The minds of gold and silver and other rich products foretold to us in advance advices we never saw nor found, as our first care was to hunt for meat to keep from starving. Even if Monterrey is at last fairly well fortified, and California should, through any extravagant desire, be coveted by the Russians, there are still many other ports which, being undefended

  by troops or fortifications, could not oppose them, and where they may freely establish themselves if they desire. Farewell, friend, your affectionate Portala." It only remains to comment upon and elaborate certain portions of this story, passing over some of the minor details in which it varied a little from the facts.

  Portala and his men reached the mouth of the Salinas River on the Bay of Monterrey on September 30th, 1769. They were in some doubt as to whether they might already have passed the wonderful port described by Viscaino, and, besides, provisions were scarce and seventeen men were unfit for active duty.

  Nevertheless, said Constanzo, All the officers voted unanimously that the journey be continued, as this was the only course that remained, for we hoped to find, through the grace of God, the much-desired port of Monterrey and in it the pack at San Jose, which might relieve our needs. And if God willed it that in the search for Monterrey we should all perish, we would have

  performed our duty towards God and man, cooperating to the death for the success of the undertaking upon which we have been sent. Here surely was no weakness. It was at this time, therefore, and not later, as one might have inferred from Portala's narrative, that the journey up the San Francisco Peninsula was made.

  On October 31st, they saw the Gulf of Falarones to the northwest, and noting some white cliffs and an opening between them into what in fact is Bolinas Bay, believed that they were looking upon Drake's Bay, called by them the Bay of San Francisco. The next day, Sergeant Ortega, who all along had commanded the scouts in the vanguard, was sent out with orders to reach Drake's Bay if possible.

  Almost certainly Ortega and his men on this day, November 1st, 1769, reached the Golden Gate and saw part of the Great Bay of San Francisco, as it was eventually called within. Later, Ortega was sent up the eastern shore of the bay and may have reached Alameda Creek. In the light of past dreams of Añon, it is at first thought surprising that the discovery was received with so little enthusiasm.

  Indeed, it occasioned bitter disappointment. Two things must be remembered, however. The men were sick and starving, and they had been sent out not to find the Strait of Añon, but the port of Monterey. This clearly was not Monterey.

  Indeed, it might be Drake's Bay, in which case, as all now agreed, they had passed the port discovered by this Cayeno. They were dispirited, too, because the hope on which they had sustained themselves, that they would find the San Jose, was now gone, for there were no signs of that vessel. Portolá was particularly unimpressed.

  After Ortega and his men had made known the vast reaches of the Great Bay, Portolá was able to write in his diary that they had found nothing. And to the soldierly Portolá this was a literal truth, for they had seen nothing of the thing which he had been ordered to find, the port of Monterey. On November 11th, therefore, the return march was begun.

  More than ten weeks later, on January 24th, 1770, they approached San Diego, wondering if they would find anything left of the settlement there. That day they staggered into camp, rejoiced that their comrades were still alive. Some had died of scurvy, however, and not one of them had escaped having the disease. Furthermore, the Indians had been troublesome, and on August 15th had rushed the camp.

  It had been necessary to kill several of them. Worst of all, the San Jose had not put in appearance at all, and the San Antonio had not yet returned. The situation as regards supplies was therefore serious. Any man in Portolá's place would have felt justified in abandoning Alta California at

  this point. But this gallant officer thought only of his orders. He had been required to occupy the Northern Territory and meant to hold it until the last moment compatible with the safety of his forces. It was resolved to send Rivera back to the peninsula for supplies in order to make it

  possible to hold this port longer, according to Portolá. As he did, said Constanzo, writing at a later time, lest he should incur such discredit as would result from his abandonment of San Diego. The situation was a little less than desperate, however, and the fortunate appearance of the San Antonio on March 23rd may very well have averted an early abandonment.

  A legend has sprung up, having its origin in Paulo's Vida, published in 1787, that Portolá would have abandoned Alta California but for the pleadings of Sara. Eventually, it is said, Portolá set a date beyond which he would not remain. The day before this ultimate date, the San Antonio was sighted, though it did not get into port until four days later.

  This story is unsupported by a shred of contemporary evidence. The facts are reviewed in Chapman, The Founding of Spanish California, 98-101. One further fact should be noted. Rivera was sent to Baja California for supplies so that Portolá and his men might continue to hold this port, San Diego, longer.

  Rivera departed on February 10th. It had taken Portolá 48 days merely to come with a light party from Velicata to San Diego. How was Rivera to go far to the south of Velicata, gather supplies, and return to San Diego with a heavy mule train in 38 days? It seems likely that Paulo's story was an unmerited slander on Portolá, told with a

  view to the exaltation of Sara. As for Rivera, he got back to San Diego in July with 80 mule loads of provisions and a small herd of cattle. Under the circumstances, this was making good time, all that could have been expected. The arrival of the San Antonio changed the face of matters.

  Portolá now decided to go north again in search of Monterrey. The San Antonio was dispatched to the north on April 16th, and Portolá started by land the next day. The governor was the first to arrive. On May 24th, he came to the rendezvous agreed upon in Monterrey Bay, satisfied now that

  this, after all, was the so-called Good Port discovered by Vizcaino. Perez came in a week later with the San Antonio. On June 3rd, 1770, the Presidio and Mission of Monterrey were formally inaugurated. Portolá's task was now done. He had been ordered to return to New Spain as soon as the beginning of the settlements

  had been made, turning over command to Faugus. Accordingly, on July 9th, Portolá, accompanied by Constancio, sailed with Perez on the San Antonio, landing at San Blas on the 1st of August. Shortly afterwards, he was promoted to a lieutenant colonelcy, and in 1776 was made colonel and governor of Puebla, New Spain.

  Taking possession of his government in 1777, he remained at that post until 1784, when he was succeeded by Jacobo de Hogarte and ordered to return to Spain. Then, in his 61st year, Portolá passes off the scene so far as present records go. Perez and Constancio had hastened to Mexico City from San Blas with Portolá's despatches. Arriving there on August 10th, 1770, they brought news of the success of Galvez's enterprise.

  For a year and a half, little, if anything, had been heard from it, and the reports which now came in must have been particularly agreeable in the light of Galvez's unsatisfactory record, as matters turned out, in Sonora. Bells were rung, flags displayed, and a special high mass was celebrated. Alta California had been occupied, and the fame of Galvez was secure.

  In addition to the standard authorities and the already cited works of priestly and Chapman, the translations of original narratives and diaries in the first two volumes of the publications of the Academy of Pacific Coast History are worthy of special mention among the materials for this chapter. End of footnote, end of chapter 17.

• 18 - The Pacification of Sonora

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  CHAPTER XVIII. THE PACIFICATION OF SONORA. The strategic center in Galvez's plans, even for the settlements in Alta California, was the province of Sonora, near the frontiers of which the future capital of the Comandante General was designed to be placed.

  That province had been reduced to sad straits as a result of nearly 20 years of continuous war. The population had seriously declined. For example, Primaria Alta, which had had 1,315 civilized inhabitants in 1763, fell away to 178 in 1769.

  Even southern Sonora had been affected. Prior to the Pima Revolt of 1751, there had been 57 settled ranches in the Ostomuri district. Two decades later, there were only four. In the rest of Sonora, over 40 mining settlements had been deserted, and but two out of a prior number of 125 ranches still had white inhabitants.

  The presence of the Jesuits in the province had not served to check disorder after the suppression of the Pima Revolt. Indeed, the constant bickerings between them and the other white elements only increased the evil of the times, especially since the missionaries had now lost all control over the Indians.

  It was therefore an advantage to the province when they were supplanted by the Franciscans of the colleges of Queretaro and Jalisco. The expulsion of the Jesuits in 1767 took place without warning in Sonora, as elsewhere, with the result that it was not until 1768 that their successors arrived. The Queretarin friars took over Primaria, and the Jaliscans received the rest of Sonora,

  while Sinaloa was put in charge of the secular clergy. Henceforth, the religious were to exercise only spiritual jurisdiction. The friars were not satisfied with this arrangement, but at any rate, whether due to the change or not, there was a cessation, for a while, of revolts by Christianized Indians. It remained to deal with the hostile tribes of the unconverted, and to introduce the settlers

  who should maintain permanent peace. Galvez had entertained the highest hopes of the outcome of Elizondo's campaign. That officer and his army of more than a thousand men were expected in short time to pacify Sonora and then pass on to Nueva Vizcaya to deal with the Apaches. In other words, a successful military campaign was to be the indispensable preliminary to

  the inauguration of Galvez's project of the Comandante General. Julian de Arriaga, the enlightened Secretary of the Indies in Spain, and the King were among those who were not sanguine at the success of Galvez's plan, and the event proved that they were right. Footnote.

  Julian de Arriaga, Secretary of the Indies from 1750 or 1751 to 1776, is one of the figures in the background of California history who has yet to receive the attention that is due his achievements. Spain's great 18th century spurt in the northwestward conquest came during his rule, and the decline followed immediately upon his death in 1776.

  In footnote. Elizondo reached Guaymas on March 10, 1768, and soon afterward made an attack on the Indian enemies, Ceres and Pimas, in that vicinity. The latter fled to the mountain fastnesses of the Cerro Prieto, where it was impossible to pursue them, though a ten-day search was made.

  In June, the Spaniards attacked the Cerro Prieto from three sides, but the Indians eluded them. The same thing happened when another attempt was made in October, and then again in November. Several orders of November and December called for a cessation of these expensive campaigns and for the use of conciliatory methods, but Croix and Galvez were too deeply committed

  to draw back and found an excuse to allow the war to go on. The Spaniards were nothing if not persistent, for they assaulted the Cerro Prieto for a fifth time in February, but without result. After a year's campaign, virtually nothing had been accomplished. As late as February, 1769, while he was still in Baja California, Galvez was giving orders

  for a war of extermination against the rebellious Indians. But by the time of his arrival in Sonora in May, he had learned of the royal orders and decided to try the effects of an offer of amnesty. A period of forty days from May 8th was given in which the Indians might surrender, and it was intimated that they would suffer dire consequences after that date if they neglected

  the opportunity. The forty days passed, but few Indians accepted the edict. Then ten more days were added, and later another twenty-five, but the Indians remained hostile. Galvez had, meanwhile, been attending with more or less success to some of the minor projects in preparation for the Comandante General.

  What he might have done if he had retained his health can only be conjectured. It is more than likely that he would have found a way to overcome obstacles just as he had in sending out the Alta California expeditions, and would have brought about an advance to the Gila and Colorado rivers and the establishment of communications with Monterey.

  If that is so, it is well for the ultimate possessor of California, the United States, that Galvez fell desperately ill. Early in June he began to develop fever and chills, and he was not wholly well again until after he had left the frontier. Before he was at his worst, however, he directed several other attacks against the Indians,

  one of them in October being another fruitless assault on the Cerro Prieto. This was Galvez's last effort as a general in the field, for he now became incapacitated through ill health. Galvez's first serious illness occurred in August. Believing that he was about to die, he wrote to Croy on the 22nd, reiterating his feelings

  of personal friendship for the Viceroy, and commending his subordinate officers to the latter's attention. Yet, the greater part of his letter concerned the expeditions to Alta California. It is at least interesting that what Galvez expected to be his dying request was a plea to Croy to protect the new establishments of San Diego and Monterey.

  He soon recovered, but periodically broke down, and at last, in the middle of October, his mind gave way altogether. From that time, until the end of the following March, he was rarely in sound mental condition. His faithful secretaries, Arguello, Armona, Azonza, Belaña, and Vinegra, tried to conceal the nature of his disease, but it was noised abroad in spite of them.

  Temporarily, too, the affairs of Sonora received a setback, for nobody but Galvez had authority to execute certain decisions, and he was no longer able to do so. In this emergency, three of the secretaries, Arguello, Azonza, and Vinegra, felt it incumbent upon them to inform the Viceroy that Galvez had met with civil death. There can be no doubt that they were acting for the best interests of the service in doing

  this, and that they were personally devoted to the vicetador. Thus, in contemporary letters to one another, there are the most sincere expressions of sorrow over the condition of their dearly beloved father and illustrious chief, who seem to have lost that which in other times had caused wonder in all who had consulted him, or, in the somewhat plainer words of Armona, is beautiful reason.

  Nevertheless, when the vicetador was restored to health, he turned vindictively upon his former devoted friends and companions, to whose care he undoubtedly owed his life, because they had reported his illness to the viceroy, who had in turn mentioned it in his correspondence with the court. The three secretaries were deprived of their employment and thrown into prison, where they

  visited by another of the vicetador's secretaries, who demanded that they retract their statements about Galvez's loss of reason. For several years, they were made thus unjustly to suffer. It is perhaps poetic justice that Galvez's ungenerous act should have rebounded upon himself, for in their endeavors to clear themselves, the secretaries furnished indisputable proofs

  of Galvez's malady. One of the secretaries, Ozanza, made his formal entry as viceroy thirty years later, in the very town where Galvez had imprisoned him. While the vicetador was bereft of reason, he exhibited a most extraordinary megalomania. This appears from the account of Vinegra, who supplied it in response to commands of

  the higher authorities, quote, saying nothing, as he put it, about those incidents that may offend the ears and that are not needed to prove the nature of his misfortune, unquote. Referring to Galvez's first burst of insanity in October 1769, Vinegra says, quote, On this day, with all clearness, he displayed the solemn upsetting of his understanding, calling to Sergeant Major Don Matias de Armona at two o'clock in the morning to tell him that

  Don Francisco de Assis, St. Francis, had just brought him some papers by which he had learned of the ignorance of the officers in the war that was being waged against the Indian enemies. As for the Indians, he was going to destroy them in three days, for merely by bringing six hundred apes from Guatemala, dressing them as soldiers, and making them run around the Cerro Prieto, he would easily cause the enemies within a distance of many leagues

  to flee. After this ridiculous sally, he came out of his room and went to the barracks where there were nearly a thousand men. He shook hands with them and asked them to be his comrades and friends, inviting them to share in the treasure of the expedition, and in fact, he gave a verbal order at the

  treasury to give every soldier as much money as he should ask for. And this was done, in some cases, when it was found necessary to suspend this measure immediately, for the house of the treasurer had transformed itself into that of a grand jubilee, jubileo plenissimo. We went to dinner, and in the space of two hours, he said two thousand mad things in

  the presence of many officers of rank and their dependents. Among other things, he said that if anyone should make comment upon his measures, he would put his head at the feet and burn it on a pyre, without accepting Colonel Don Domingo Elizondo, who was present, from this preposterous design. He asserted that our Lord the King had already ordered the removal from the Guía de Forasteros

  Guide for Strangers, the entry about the Supreme Council of the Cámara Chamber of the Indies. Putting this clause in place of all that respectable body. Council and Cámara of the Indies, the Vecitador General of New Spain." On another occasion, says Viniegra, quote, he called himself and held himself to be the King of Prussia, Charles XII of Sweden, the protector of the House of Bourbon, a counselor

  of state, deputy of the Admiral of Spain, an immortal, and, though it seemed impossible, Saint Joseph, the Venerable Palafox, and, what is more than all, the Eternal Father and an infinity of other persons with whose character at every moment he invested himself, wishing to perform the functions corresponding to them, even to the celebrating of the final judgment by means of the Divine Word, end quote.

  Among other things that Viniegra details, we find Galvez making a caste, Mestizo, Governor of Sonora, and investing him with the staff of office. He made Teodoro de Croix, nephew of the Marqués de Croix, viceroy of New Spain, and Armona, Commandant General of the New Comandancy. He wrote reams of orders and decrees, according to the solicitations of anybody who asked

  for them. He ordered heads cut off, including that of the viceroy. He planned a canal from Mexico City to Guaymas for ships of deep drop. He gave decorations, titles of nobility, bishoprics, and even empires with a lavish hand. He set fire to his room and burned his clothing, and then appeared naked in the window to preach

  to the Indians, assuring them that he was the Emperor Montezuma, and that the Christian faith contained only two articles, Belief in Our Lady of Guadalupe and in Montezuma. And he wrote numerous papers, one of which he signed in his own hand, quote, Jose de Galvez, insane for this unhappy world, pray God for him that he may be happy in the next, unquote.

  It is small wonder that the projects of the vicitador were not greatly furthered by his own presence in Sonora. Indeed, many things were delayed or left undone, for, sane or crazy, Galvez was still vicitador and deputy of the viceroy, and his signed documents were a difficult factor for his subordinates to get around.

  Toward the end of March, Galvez was able to leave Sonora for Mexico. He went by way of Chihuahua, which he reached on March 30, 1770, and got to Mexico City late in May or early in June. Meanwhile, events were occurring on the frontier which in fact tended toward doing away with the obstacles to an advance to the Gila and Colorado and beyond them to Monterrey.

  One of these was the inspection of the frontier presidios by the Marqués de Rubí. The Spanish authorities had frequently in the past shown that they understood the necessity of dealing with the frontier as a whole, as witnessed the already cited memorial of the Marqués de Altamira in 1751, for warfare in one province inevitably involved the others. The secretary of the Indies, Julian de Arriaga, seems to have reached this conclusion when

  he sent Rubí to the frontier to inspect the entire system of the presidios. Rubí was commissioned in 1765 and took up his work in January 1766. In the next two years, he traversed the frontier from Texas to Sonora, even visiting the New Mexico salient. In his report of April 10, 1768, he recommended the forming of a line of 17 presidios from

  Sonora to Texas. At the same time, seven other presidios and two provincial companies then in existence were to be dropped. This became a governmental program during the next eight years, arousing great hopes for a forthcoming pacification of the frontier.

  Though these hopes were destined to be vain, they encouraged the authorities to take action looking toward the long-delayed northwestward conquests. Furthermore, much real work was accomplished after 1771 to establish the system recommended by Rubí. The number of presidios on the line was cut down to fifteen, but certain others off the

  line, including two in southern Sonora, though it was intended to dispense with them as soon as possible, were to be retained, at least temporarily. By an appointment of December 4, 1772, Hugo O'Connor became commandant inspector of the frontier provinces to establish the line. Subject only to the viceroy, he ruled there during the next four years and did creditable

  work in reducing the ills from which those provinces suffered. Following Galvez's incapacity from illness in October 1769, Elezondo again took charge of the campaign in Sonora. He at once instituted methods that were to serve the purpose to much better effect than the general attacks had done.

  Dividing his troops into small detachments, he caused them to wage an incessant guerrilla warfare against the Indians so that they had no time to search for food or gain sufficient rest. By gifts and cajolery, too, other groups were persuaded to lay down their arms. All had submitted by May 1771.

  At last the war, for the time being, was over. The original plan for a descent upon Nueva Vizcaya was abandoned, and in the fall of 1771, Elezondo and most of his men returned to Mexico. One obstacle to the advance to the Gila and Colorado now seems to have been diminished, if not removed.

  Coincident with the termination of the military campaign, an event occurred which served better than bullets to make for peace. While pursuing a band of Indians in 1771, a detachment of Elezondo's army discovered the rich gold plasters of Cieneguilla near Altar. Vast quantities of gold were found near the surface.

  There was an immediate rush to the scene, and within a few months of the discovery over 2,000 men had reached there. Unlike the Arizonac mine of other days, Cieneguilla continued to yield richly for a decade, and other mines in the neighborhood were worked to the end of the century and later. At about the same time, mines were discovered in other parts of Sonora.

  Huerta, on the Yaqui River, was particularly rich. Between 1772 and 1776, it was the most flourishing place in the province. Indeed, the revenues of Cieneguilla and Huerta at this time were sufficient between them to support the entire province. Even the Indian-infested Primaria district had been able to yield a profit of 77,277

  pesos in 1770, before the discovery of the Cieneguilla mines. The value of the peso in cash was 50 cents. The purchasing power, however, was surely double that much as measured by present-day standards at the very least, in footnote. The troubles of Sonora as regard Indian wars, especially on the part of the Apaches, were

  not at an end, but from this time forth there was a sufficiently great civilized population to ward off actual dangers, if not the fear of them. Meanwhile, important action had been taken directly affecting the discovery of a route from Sonora to Monterrey. The Franciscans were eager to make a good showing in Primaria Alta, to which they had

  succeeded in 1768, following the expulsion of the Jesuits. Therefore, there was a renewal of northward explorations and of projects for converting the Indians of the Gila and even those as far away as Moqui. Preeminent among the Caratarian friars of Primaria Alta was a man whose achievements should be written large in history of exploration, Fr. Francisco Garces.

  Although the principal object in his journeys of exploration was the saving of souls, for in him an apostolic zeal burned with an ardor comparable with that of his great predecessors in the Franciscan order. His results were of vast importance from the standpoint of plans for frontier advance. Garces took up his ministry in San Javier del Bac in June 1768.

  In August he started on the first of his tours of exploration, going through Papagueria, in the extreme northwest of Sonora, to the Gila. In 1769 he seems to have made an unimportant tour as chaplain. In 1770 he went forth again, between October 19th and November 2, from Bac to and along the Gila.

  On this journey he traveled among the Pimas of the Gila and the Opas, both of whom gave him a friendly reception. He reported that the Pimas were particularly worthy and were clamorous for the missionaries that he had promised when he visited them in 1768. They were far from being a savage people, had good fields of wheat and maize, and knew

  of God. The Opas were a much ruder, if equally kindly, people. This exploration added fresh evidence of the accessibility of Alta California from Sonora, for the Pimas were much excited over accounts of people seen in the west the previous year. These they described in such a way that Garces realized they were referring to the soldiers

  of the 1769 expeditions to Alta California. A much more important journey was made by Garces from August to October 1771, and the information that he gained had great influence on the opinion of the Junta which eventually recommended Anza's first expedition. This journey, too, more than any other, helped to determine the route of the subsequent expeditions.

  The details of the diary as to Garces' route might well have been very confusing to the Junta due to the fact that Garces mistook the Colorado for the Gila. In reality, he went through Papagueria to the Gila, reaching it just above its junction with the Colorado, whether he was desirous of going. He went on past the junction of the rivers, without realizing he had done so, and then

  traveled west and south along the Colorado, thinking he was on the Gila and would in that way reach the junction. He crossed the Colorado, believing that he was crossing the Gila, and came upon a vast lagoon which he took to be the Colorado. He returned to the Colorado and ascended almost to the junction again, without realizing how

  near he was to the place that he sought. Thence he returned through Papagueria. During his wanderings, he visited and named many of the villages west of the Colorado, and reached the very canyon by which Anza's expedition was to make its way through the mountains.

  He had also journeyed west to the Gila mountains in Papagueria, being the first known explorer to take that route, along which he later guided Anza. Of the obstacles impeding in advance in 1752, all but the Apaches and the disorders of the eastern provinces seemed now to have been cleared away. The Apaches, indeed, threatened the best of the routes to the northwest, from Tubac to

  the Gila and down that river to the Colorado, but it was hoped that a new line of Presidios would soon take care of them. There were minor uprisings in Sonora, too, after the end of Elizondo's campaign, but though at times in the next decade the situation seemed very bad, it never again got out of hand.

  If a desire for northwestward conquest still remained and if capable leaders could be found, this seemed to be the moment when the much-planned forward movement should take place. The desire for an advance had long existed, and now that Alta California had been occupied in a precarious and unsubstantial way, it was imperative that an overland route should be found.

  Fortunately, too, the right sort of leaders were at hand. One of them was the already mentioned pioneer explorer, Father Garces. Another was the captain of the Presidio of Tubac, Juan Bautista de Anza, under whose command the route to Monterrey was to be discovered and utilized. In the background, there was a third figure, greater than either, greater even than the

  Vecitador and certainly a more noble character. This was the man who, in 1771, succeeded Croy as viceroy, Antonio Maria Buccarelli y Erzúa. In Buccarelli, the struggling province in the far northwest was to find the greatest hero who has ever appeared in the field of California history, Footnote.

  This chapter is based principally on the already cited works of Priestley and Chapman. Here is the footnote, end of chapter 18.

• 19 - The Precarious Footing of the Early Settlements in Alta California

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  19. The Precarious Footing of the Early Settlements in Alta-California The most vital period in the history of Alta-California was that which embraced the years 1773-1776, when Buccarelli, the great viceroy, was taking those measures which put the struggling colonies of the north permanently on their feet. Next in importance after these came the periods from 1769-1773 and 1776-1781. It is the purpose of this chapter to deal with the earliest

  of these three periods, or more particularly with the events of the years 1770-1773. Not so much in order to chronicle local happenings as to provide a setting for the activities of the viceroy, who between 1773 and 1776 was to take the steps which saved the enterprise begun by Galvez. As already stated, Pedro Faguez succeeded to the authority of Portala in Alta-California following the latter's departure in July 1770. Strictly speaking,

  neither one had a right to be called governor while the expeditions were in Alta-California. Don Gaspar had been succeeded in 1769 by Matias de Armona so that he could give his undivided attention to the conquest in the north. On Armona's departure from Baja California in 1770, Felipe Berry, arriving in 1771, became governor and he was succeeded in 1774 by Felipe de Neve, who took possession in 1775. These men had little more influence in the

  north, however, than, for example, the governors of Sonora. It would be absurd to include Armona, Berry, and Neve, prior to his actual rule in the new establishments, in the list of Alta-California governors and yet omit Portala 1769-1770, Faguez 1770-1774, and Rivera 1774-1777. To all intents and purposes, the last three named were governors, reporting directly to the viceroy and depending on their theoretical superior at Loreto, only in the most shadowy way.

  They are, therefore, referred to as governors in the present work. In 1777, the titular ruler of the two Californias took up his residence in Monterey. Some difficulties arose in Alta-California at the outset, due to the fact that Faguez's powers were not precisely defined. Father Serra, president of the missions, insisted that Faguez had nothing to do with the activities of the friars, save for a restricted authority over the five or six soldiers constituting the guard of each mission. In other

  words, he contended that Faguez was in the position of a procedural commander and nothing more. Faguez, on the other hand, held that he had succeeded to the powers which had actually been exercised by Portala, and, in particular, that he should have something to say about the time and place for founding new missions. He was responsible for the defense and provisioning in the missions, and, as his means were limited, felt that any step which affected his duties in

  these respects must have his sanction. As neither Faguez nor Serra was of a yielding disposition, there soon developed a lack of harmony between them, which, by 1772, assumed the proportions of a break. A further difficulty arose, though less serious than the other, as a result of Rivera's jealousy of Faguez. When Rivera returned from the peninsula in July 1770, he was not pleased to hear that Portala had turned over his authority to Faguez instead of to him. Though he had been

  ordered to march to Monterrey, he remained at San Diego. Early in 1772 he returned to New Spain. Thus, the struggling province had to suffer from a want of whole-hearted cooperation. The difficulty was felt less in Alta California, where both Faguez and Serra were sincerely doing the best they could than it was in Mexico City, where decisions had to be made on the basis of conflicting reports. Meanwhile, Faguez had his way in Alta California. A much more vital problem

  was that of the defense of the province, which was inextricably involved with its spiritual conquest. Throughout a territory some 400 miles or more in extent, from San Diego to Monterrey, there were in 1770 only 43 soldiers. Three years later, this number had increased to 61. Over against this insignificant force, there was an incalculable number of Indians reaching far into the thousands. Moreover, they were not at all kindly disposed to the

  Spanish occupation. Indeed, thousands of them were distinctly opposed to it, and only submitted because of their wholesome respect for Spanish weapons. There were several conflicts in these early years. Some took place between Villicata and San Diego on the route up the peninsula, and in 1770 there had been an affair at San Diego. Another fight occurred at San Gabriel in 1771, shortly after the founding of a mission there.

  The immediate cause of the last named outbreak illustrates the difficulties arising from the presence of the soldiery, even though nothing could have been accomplished without them. The soldiers, who were rough, illiterate half-breeds, none of whom had brought a wife to Alta, California, aimed too frequently at an undue familiarity with Indian women. Occasionally they would pretend to go hunting, but it was not the beasts of the field but rather

  the native women they sought. These sometimes they would lasso as a preliminary step in a not-too-gentle wooing. Some such thing took place at San Gabriel, where the wife of the chieftain suffered. The angry husband shot an arrow at the guilty soldier, who stopped it with his shield. In the fracas which followed, the Indian chief was killed. His head was cut off by the Spaniards and set up on a pole as a warning to the Indians of the neighborhood.

  Despite the failure of justice represented by this event, it is said that the chief's own son was the first to present himself for baptism at the mission. In few of the missionary conquests attempted by the Spaniards in the New World were they for so long a time unsuccessful in winning converts as in Alta, California. The first year passed at San Diego without a single baptism. Indeed, there is no clear record of any before 1771. The mission of

  San Carlos Borromeo at Mataray, which was dedicated on June 3, 1770, witnessed its first baptism on December 26. A year later, the mission was moved a few miles south to Carmelo, but not for several years did it meet with much success. San Antonio and San Gabriel, founded in 1771, and San Luis Obispo, dating from 1772, encountered almost identical experiences. The Indians in the vicinity of the northern missions were less hostile than those of the

  south. Indeed, they were at times friendly, but the Spaniards had very little in the way of material gifts in these early years with which to attract them. As for spiritual arguments, these made no impression whatsoever. The father superior of the College of San Fernando in Mexico, Rafael Verger, correctly represented the situation in various of his memorials of 1771. The missions of Alta, California, hardly merited the name of mission he held. He had objected

  to their being founded by the missionaries of his college, but had been compelled to assent because Galvez desired it. He freely predicted that the missions would fail. Galvez would get the credit for having founded them, but the blame for their failure would be cast upon the Fernandine friars. Verger was somewhat nettled at the enthusiasm of Father Serra, expressing himself to the effect that it was necessary to moderate somewhat his ardent zeal.

  Late in the year 1771, Verger began at length to believe that success in Alta, California was possible, but pointed out that it was not safe to count too strongly on the docility of the Indians, for a sudden revolt could bring everything down in ruin. At the end of 1773, in the fifth year of the occupation, the state of the missions was still unsatisfactory, as will appear from the accompanying table. These slender results in such a populous field seem even more

  insignificant when analyzed. Total baptisms, 491. Total living, 462. Total marriages, 62. Most of the converts thus far were children, so it was not possible to count on the Indian men to protect and further the work of the missionaries. The 62 marriages probably represented the total number of adult converts, which meant that an average of five or six a year at a mission had been obtained, though the three southern missions in fact had few or no adult neophytes. The situation

  was well illustrated by the case of the mission of San Luis Obispo. The Indians there were very numerous and were friendly to the Spaniards, but not a single adult convert had been obtained. The friars ascribed this to the abundance of food which the natives were able to procure, wherefor the Spaniards found it difficult to attract them to the mission. The principal causes of the backwardness of the missions were the same as those which affected the whole province.

  Lack of sufficient provisions, goods and effects, domestic animals, soldiers, and above all, lack of an adequate supply route from New Spain. The Spaniards in Alta California occupied a position resembling that of the Robinson Caruso of literature. They were set down in a land that was rich in potentialities, but lacking in the immediate requirements of civilized life. The problem of success, however, was distinctly an immediate matter, for the least upset in

  supplying the province might result in undoing all that had been accomplished, despite the brilliant prospects of a somewhat distant future. Naturally, the matter of food supply was vital to success. The dire straits of the expeditionaries at San Diego in 1769 to 1770 have already been chronicled. A similar situation developed in 1772. The supply ships were late in coming, and when they did reach San Diego, it was found impossible to get them to Monterrey,

  no doubt because there were not enough sailors left alive or free of the scurvy to man them. Meanwhile, the missionaries in their desire to attract the Indians had been more liberal with gifts of food than the stock of supplies warranted. As a result, famine appeared for the second time in the history of the province. Serious disaster was averted by Governor Fagas, who engaged in the most celebrated bear hunt in the history of Alta

  California. For several days he hunted in the neighborhood of what is now San Luis Obispo, and supplied the northern settlements with meat which kept them alive until a pack train could be sent up from San Diego. This incident was influential in the selection of San Luis Obispo as a site for the mission which was established there shortly afterward in that same year. San Luis Obispo had proved its ability to provide food in an emergency, and the Indians

  were grateful for the killing of the bears. The question arises, why didn't the Spaniards raise crops and thus avert the danger of starvation? The answer is that they did the best they could. Such seed as they could get they planted, but it was a rare chance when they got back anything more than their seed. They were not acquainted with farming and knew nothing of the actual possibilities or needs of the soil in this new land. At the end of 1773, San Gabriel was the

  only place in the province which even so much as gave promise of an eventual agricultural wealth. The growth of rich crops was one of those factors which inevitably belonged to the future. In the matter of manufactured articles, Alta California was of course all together dependent on outside help for everything from a plow or a smithy's forge down to a piece of ribbon or a nail. Indeed, for many things that were all but vital to its existence, the province had to look beyond

  Mexico to Spain. For example, Serra reported in 1773 that the only forge and only smith in Alta California were at Monterrey, and in any event there was very little iron to work with. He also asked for two carpenters, one for the north and the other for the south. The need for domestic animals was twofold, to serve as food and as beasts of burden. About 500 had been taken from Baja California at the outset. A number had died on the march

  north from the peninsula, but enough remained to furnish Alta California with an element which it needed in order to survive and also give some hope for an eventual increase. The situation in these early years was at all times critical, however. This was due not only to the insufficient numbers of the animals, but also to the lack of animals for breeding purposes. Except for the milk that they gave, the animals were little used for food, as they were too

  precious to be killed. But the colonists were almost often wholly dependent upon milk to keep themselves alive. Nevertheless, the need for pack animals received great emphasis. To mention only one important use of this character, a great many animals were required to carry a year's supplies from San Diego or Monterrey to the three inland missions. Minor difficulties encountered were the theft of horses and cattle by Spanish deserters, and the fondness of the unconverted Indians for

  meat, an appetite which they were wont to indulge at the expense of the Spanish flocks. By the close of the year 1773, what with cows, sheep, goats, pigs, asses, mares, colts, horses, and mules, there were only 616 animals at the five missions, and probably not very many besides in the keeping of the procedural garrisons of San Diego and Monterrey. The situation was one which demanded remedy. The soldiers, on account of their bad conduct

  with the native women, were in a measure a handicap to mission work. But none more insistently than the friars themselves recognized the necessity for their presence. The still more important element for the future of the province was, if it could be obtained, that of permanent settlers. The total Spanish population in 1773 was made up of 61 soldiers, 11 friars, and an occasional mechanic temporarily in the province in the service of the government. There were no white

  laborers, no doctors, and most important of all, no women. Six soldiers had married native women, but the rest were without wives or else had left them in New Spain. Furthermore, the soldiers longed to escape this irksome service in a land which was so totally lacking in the things they enjoyed, and they frequently deserted. Invariably, however, they returned to camp, for death awaited them away from the supplies

  which came each year to San Diego and Monterrey. The founding of missions was delayed because there were not soldiers enough to guard them. Thus, San Buenaventura, at present-day Ventura, which the Spaniards had hoped to establish among the first, was postponed until 1782. Similarly, San Francisco and Santa Clara were delayed until 1776 and 1777. The founding of the two last-name missions was most insistently desired by the friars,

  the governor and the viceroy during these years, but Fagas deemed it unwise to attempt it with the scant forces under his command. In November 1770, on his own initiative, he had tried to reach the old port of San Francisco, Drake's Bay, behind Point Reyes by going around the Great Estuary, as he termed it, of what is today the Bay of San Francisco. He may have reached a point in the Berkeley Hills just north of the present university campus. Since his scouts reported that

  the estuary seemed to extend for an indefinite distance, Fagas turned his back because of his anxiety for the camp, the cultivation of the land, and the raising of the stock. In March 1772, he made a more ambitious attempt, accompanied by Father Crespi, twelve soldiers, a muleteer, and an Indian. He had orders to explore the port of San Francisco and establish a mission there, so as to secure that port from foreign occupation.

  Going up the eastern shore of the Bay region, Fagas and his men came at length to the San Joaquin River, and also saw the Sacramento from a point of vantage. Having reached the vicinity of Antioch, they felt obliged to give up their appointed task, for they lacked boats with which to cross the rivers, and did not have enough supplies for such a long journey as now appeared necessary. So they cut through the mountains by way of the San Ramon, Amador, and Sunol valleys,

  and found their way back to Monterey. No further attempt was made for some time to reach the port which Drake and Rodriguez-Sermeno had visited, but attention gradually directed itself toward the infinitely superior estuary of San Francisco, which was soon to appropriate an exclusive ride to the name formerly enjoyed by the more northerly port. In any event, the mission had to wait. The backward state of the Alta California settlements would not have been so serious

  if there had been an adequate supply route to the province. The direct sea route from San Blas continued to be as difficult as before. Thus, the San Antonio in 1771 required 68 days for the voyage to San Diego, and there were few aboard ship who escaped the scurvy. The problems in connection with the supply ships will be taken up more fully in a later chapter. For the present, it may suffice to say that the ships were too small and frail, and the perils of the sea too

  great for families of colonists or herds of domestic animals to be set out in them. Indeed, such a plan seems never so much as to have been considered. The short voyage across the stormy gulf to Baja California was only slightly less difficult. Writing in August 1771, Father Verger said that five boats had already been lost that year in attempting to reach the peninsula. A sixth left San Blas on February 2nd and did not reach Loreto until August 23rd,

  having meanwhile been blown nearly to Panama. Baja California was, if anything, less able than ever to supply the provisions needed in Alta California. The peninsula had not recovered from the material setback it suffered at the time the Jesuits were expelled, and, besides, it had already been stripped of more than it could well afford to make a beginning of the settlements in Alta California. Moreover, aside from the problem of the voyage across the gulf, Baja California was

  not even suitable as a route to San Diego and Monterey. This was most clearly set forth by Father Serra in 1773. On being informed that a suggestion had been made to do away with the supply ships and make use of mule trains to carry provisions and effects up the peninsula to Alta California, he pointed out that it would take 1,500 mules and 100 muleteers and it would be impossible for such a number of animals to find food and drink on the desolate route to San Diego.

  There were not enough mules in both Californias for this project, even if it had been possible. For three years, attempts had been made to supply the grave deficiency in this type of animal by shipping a number from the mainland provinces of New Spain, but these endeavors had met with no success. The situation in Alta California, therefore, was bad with hardly a single relieving feature. As late as February 1773, Buccarelli wrote to Arriaga that he might expect an early

  abandonment of the province. This eventuality most certainly would have developed if it had not been for the activities of the viceroy himself. Indeed, it was just at the moment when his pessimism was at its greatest that his measures for the northern province began to have effect. Obviously, the only escape for Alta California lay in the discovery of a better route over which the elements of permanence, families of settlers and domestic animals,

  might come. Those acquainted with the problems of Alta California began more and more to point this out. Father Virger said that the only alternative to sending agricultural and pastoral laborers to Alta California would be to transport provisions from Sonora, and he recommended that steps be taken to increase the number of pack animals in the new establishments so that they might be utilized for that purpose. Furthermore, he consented very easily to a surrender of the Baja

  California missions field to the Dominicans, provided the Franciscans of San Fernando should be accorded the right to develop a route from Sonora. Sara, Balu and others held virtually the same views, though some, Sara included, for a time favored the idea of a route from New Mexico. The engineer, Costanzo, who had been in Alta California with Portala, explained more clearly than anybody else the various factors in Alta California's problem of a supply route,

  alluding to the insufficiency of the direct sea route and the route up the peninsula, and pointing out that the settlers and supplies which Alta California needed might well be sent from Sonora. Much the same views were expressed by Jose de Areche, Fiscal of the Audencia of Mexico. The project of a supply route from Sonora appealed to him, also because it might lessen the burden of expense which the government was undergoing on behalf of Alta California.

  The matter of expense was indeed one which attracted the attention of the royal government. From January 1768 to the end of 1773, over five hundred and seventy thousand pesos had been expended on behalf of the Californias and San Blas, of which Alta California had accounted for more than 250,000. The salt mines of San Blas earned 25,000 pesos a year, which was the sole return on the government's investment.

  Thus, there had been a net expenditure of 75,000 pesos a year. But this was not all. In addition, there was the cost of the goods sent from Mexico City, the contributions of the Pius Fund, and the application of the resources confiscated from the Jesuit missions of the peninsula, the figures for which are not at hand. This manifests the strategic importance attached by Spain to her possession of the Californias,

  for that country was not accustomed to spend money on unprofitable projects. On this very account, however, the government would have welcomed a means of escape from at least a part of its heavy expenditures. Therefore, the higher officials of the vice royalty turned hopefully to the idea of a new route to save Alta California from foreign occupation. End of chapter 19

• 20 - The Russian and English Agressions in the Pacific Northwest

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  20. Russian and English Aggressions in the Pacific Northwest The danger of encroachments by foreign powers has been given prominent notice in preceding chapters as a principal cause of the Spanish northwestward advance since the adoption late in the sixteenth century of the policy of the aggressive defensive. In the period from 1769 to 1781, when the future of the Californias was in fact being decided, and especially in the vital

  years 1773 to 1776, this factor under the guiding hand of the great Viceroy Buccarelli was the real mainspring of Spanish action, though from the standpoint of the permanent foreign danger, rather than from that of a particular emergency. It is especially interesting to approach the subject of foreign conquests from different points of view, so as to bring out the importance of this factor the more clearly by providing a better perspective. As has already been pointed out,

  the Russians and the English were by no means the only foreign peoples who threatened Spain's domination of the Pacific coast. The Indians and the Chinese had their opportunity before Spain appeared upon the scene. The Japanese were at one time a potential peril, and the Portuguese and Dutch voyagers occasionally gave Spain concern. The French for many years were the most dangerous enemy of all, but with their disappearance from North America in 1763, as a result of their defeat

  in the Seven Years War, they were no longer a menace. The people of the United States were eventually to become the most powerful outstanding element, but their chance did not appear until the 19th century. In the time of Buccarelli, there were only two peoples whom Spain had seriously to consider. These were the Russians and the English. In a review of Spanish foreign policy as a whole during the reign of Charles III, 1759 to 1788, and particularly in those years which were of

  most interest from the point of view of California history, it will be found that Spain was primarily concerned over the possibilities of a war with England. Russia, though a dangerous opponent in the Pacific, gave Spain hardly any cause for worry in Europe. There were troubles with Portugal and Morocco, but their importance lay in the relation which England bore to the situation, especially in the case of Portugal, whose aggressive activities in South America received English backing until

  1776. Then the American Revolution produced a diversion in favor of Spain. To oppose England, the so-called family compact between the Bourbon crowns of France and Spain was brought into being. In 1762, therefore, Spain entered the war which for several years France had been waging against England. Having gone down to defeat in 1763, the Bourbon powers thereafter endeavored to strengthen themselves for a renewal of the combat, which, it was generally agreed, would

  inevitably eventuate. In 1770 to 1771, and several times between 1773 and the close of 1776, Spain was ready to fight, but France each time drew back. Late in 1775, however, a change in Spain's attitude began to be perceptible, which became marked after 1776. This was due, primarily, it would seem, to the American Revolution, which engendered a belief that Spain's participation in the war against England would be fatal, whatever the outcome. Victory, which would also mean

  independence for England's colonies, would result in the appearance of a dangerous neighbor in America and in the eventual loss, perhaps, of Spain's colonial empire. Defeat would subject Spain to a like fate at the hands of England. Spain, therefore, hesitated to enter the war, though, in 1779, she did so. These were the principal ideas in the diplomatic history of the period. As affecting the Americas, the danger point in a war with England was the West Indies

  and the neighboring coasts of the mainland. Whatever anxiety there was for Pacific ports concerned South America, and after 1773 even that region does not seem to have been important enough to have found a prominent place in diplomatic correspondence. As for foreign aggressions in the Pacific Northwest, they were then regarded as of such comparatively slight importance that they have not attracted the attention of even the most voluminous writers

  on the history of Spain for that period. Indeed, the danger of a war with England inevitably lessened Spain's fears concerning the Californias, for England's forces could be counted upon to concentrate in the Atlantic for any serious attack. Thus, it may be said that Russian aggressions in the Pacific Northwest occupied a place of no importance in the general scheme of Spanish foreign policy, and English aggressions were more important, if at all,

  only because England was regarded as a consistent opponent in all quarters of the globe. In other words, Spanish activities in the Californias were on virtually an independent footing. They depended on Spain's surmises concerning foreign encroachments of the North Pacific itself, without reference, or at most only very slightly related, to the state of affairs in Europe. Before dealing, in successive chapters, with Buccarelli's measures against the possibility

  of foreign conquests in the Californias, it seems worthwhile to trace the actual progress of the Russians and English in their endeavors to reach the Pacific coast, in order to estimate what the danger really was. The Russian approach was largely in the hands of the Cossacks, the underlying causes being their yearning for new homes where they might enjoy personal freedom and the commercial stimulus of the fur trade. The first step was

  taken in the reign of Ivan IV, 1533-1584, when the outlaw Yermak led a band of Cossacks across the Ural Mountains in 1578 and conquered a Tartar kingdom on the Aub River. Thenceforth, the Cossacks made rapid strides across the continent. Ten men could conquer a kingdom, whether due to the superiority of their weapons or to other causes does not matter here. The Wolsk, Tomsk, Yeniseysk, Irkutsk, Yakutsk, and finally Okhotsk on the Pacific,

  successively became centers of their activity and supply stations for the next point to the East. In 50 years, they had advanced to Yakutsk over halfway, and 11 more years suffice to reach Okhotsk, where an establishment was made in 1639. From Yakutsk, they went southward up the Lena River to Lake Baikal, where silver mines were found, but here their rush was checked, the Manchu Tartars being too powerful for them. In 1646, they entered the land of the Chukchi's

  in the extreme northwestern part of Asia, and were rewarded by rich finds of mammoth ivory. The Chukchi's, however, were not pleasant neighbors, and were able to maintain their independence of Russia to the close of the 18th century. By 1706, Kamchatka, the last Siberian land to be taken, had been overrun. Arrived at the Pacific, the conquerors wondered what lay beyond. There were evidences of a great land not far to the east, strange trees

  drifted ashore, the swell of the ocean was not great, and the Chukchi's told stories of a rich eastern continent. And well may it have seemed rich to them, when the comparatively agreeable west coast of Alaska is contrasted with the bleak and stormy Siberian shore. The Russian government became interested in the American Siberia as early as 1710, and attempts were made to reach it by way of the Arctic Ocean along the north coast of Siberia,

  and surveys were made of the Kuril Islands. This, it may be noted, was during the reign of Peter the Great, 1682 to 1725. Peter also planned expeditions which were to proceed from Kamchatka to see whether America and Asia joined, and to make discoveries along Pacific shores from Japan to the American continent. It fell to the lot of Vitus Bering, a Dane, to execute the major part of his commands, and to the reigns of his successors to see them carried out. The Bering

  party had first to make the overland journey across Siberia, which it started to do in 1725. Arrived at the Pacific, Bering left Okhotsk in 1727, and in the following year sailed through Bering Strait. He then returned to St. Petersburg, or Petrograd, where he recommended further voyages to discover trade routes to America and Japan, and to explore the northern coast of Siberia. Plans were made on a large scale, and the expeditions were authorized in 1734,

  but it was six years before they got underway. Bering commanded one ship and Alexei Chirikov the other, but the two at length became separated. On July 15, 1741, Chirikov discovered the American coast just above 55 degrees. He then sailed northwest and west, past the Aleutian Islands, and after much suffering reached Kamchatka in October 1741. Chirikov made another voyage in 1742, but did not reach America. Bering, meanwhile, had sighted the American mainland above 58 degrees

  on July 16, 1741. The return voyage was one of terrible hardship. The voyagers were obliged to winter on Bering Island, where their commander died, and their survivors did not get back to Kamchatka until August 1742. Incidentally, they brought back some furs of the sea otter, and this it was which proved the impulse for a fresh series of Russian voyages. Between 1743 and 1767, a number of voyages by private individuals were made as far as the

  Aleutian Islands in search of furs. The year 1764 marked the beginning of a new period of imperial interest, when plans were made which resulted in the Khronitsyn and Leveshev expedition. Secret instructions were given, but the object seems to have been to verify the reports already received from the fur traders, and to obtain as much further information as possible. The Khronitsyn Leveshev voyage took place during the years 1766 to 1769. The expeditionaries encountered great

  hardships and got no farther than the Aleutian Islands, not reaching the mainland. Leveshev at length got back to St. Petersburg in 1771. Special notice should be taken of this voyage as the principal one under imperial direction in the period of most interest here. This expedition may have been the foundation for the exaggerated reports from St. Petersburg, which were transmitted to Bukareli and influenced his course of action.

  At about the same time, a number of books were published concerning Russian activities in the Pacific. Private expeditions continued, however, and it is impossible to say how much they entered into the rumors heard by the Spanish ambassadors. These voyages seem to have reached no farther than the Aleutian Islands. Not until 1783 did the Russians make a direct attempt to extend their fur trading operations to the Alaska mainland, for the sea otter was disappearing from the Aleutian

  Islands. An expedition was made under Potap Zhaykov, but it was a failure. In the same year, Grigor Shelikov organized a company to make a fur trading settlement, and this was established in 1784 on the island of Kadiak, the first Russian settlement to North America. 15 years later, in 1799, Sitka was founded on the Alaska mainland, and by 1812, Russian settlement was carried as far south as the Thalerone Islands, just out from the Golden Gate. Clearly, Spain had cause to fear the

  Russian approach. English approaches to the Pacific coast were along a number of lines, but may be reduced roughly to two, from the Atlantic coast westward, in the most part overland, but in some degree by sea, as represented by the attempts to find the northwest passage, and the direct approach by sea in the Pacific itself around South America, or eastward from Southern Asia, and even across the Isthmus of Panama. The former was the earlier and more

  formidable movement, but the latter was the first to arrive, and the one which in fact gave more trouble to Spain down to the close of the 18th century. English entry of the Pacific, by way of the Isthmus of Panama, passed through two principal phases. The first came in the latter half of the 16th century, during the reign of Elizabeth, when English sailors plundered Spanish towns and ships, although their countries were nominally at peace. Drake and Hawkins are the typical names.

  The second phase came in the 17th century, when men engaged in it tended to evolve from a shadowy British allegiance into unqualified pirates. Sir Henry Morgan is the outstanding figure of this period. Just at the close of the century also came the unsuccessful attempt to found a Scotch colony at Darien. This marks the end of the English activity along this line of approach to the Pacific. Another line of advance, to which little space need be given because it did not in fact get near

  the Americas, is the British advance around Africa to Southern Asia. This may be said to have begun with the chartering of the British East Indian Company in 1600, the English government granting to that company rights of trade from the Cape of Good Hope to the Strait of Magellan. A voyage to the East Indies was made in the very next year, and in little more than a decade the company had already established a post in India. As early as 1637, English ships had appeared on the coast of

  China, and for the next century and a half they carried on an intermittent trade there. Spain had little to fear from England in this period, from the direction of the East Indies, because of the English conflicts in India with the Portuguese, Dutch, and French, especially with the last named. Once the English overcame this opposition, however, they loomed up as a danger to the Spanish colonies. The capture of Manila in 1762 by an English expedition from India

  was a significant indication of the reality of this danger. The Croix-Galvis Plan of January 1768 referred to the possibility of English and Dutch voyages from the East Indies to the Californias. Not until the last 15 years of the 18th century was this fear realized, but then numerous English ships made voyages from China to Nutca and the coasts of the far northwest. The pioneer of English voyagers around South America to the Pacific coast was Francis Drake,

  who made a brief stay in Alta California in 1579. His voyage showed how weak was Spain's control of the Pacific. It was never forgotten by the Spaniards, who likewise realized how much they had to fear from the presence of an enemy ship. A fresh lesson was not long in coming. In 1587, 1588, Thomas Cavendish repeated Drake's voyage, capturing a rich Manila galleon near Cape San Lucas in 1588. The 17th century was the age of buccaneers, whether virtual or real,

  and some of them seemed to have rounded South America. One expedition, with a semblance of governmental authority, left Virginia in 1683, turned South America, and, joining with buccaneers who had crossed the Isthmus of Panama, engaged in operations against the Spaniards in the years 1684 to 1686. Cook, Eaton, Davis, Harris, Swan, Wafer, Cowley, Townley, Dampierre, and the Frenchman, Groignet, were among the leaders of this enterprise. Swan and Townley got as far north as Mazatlan.

  The first four decades of the 18th century were marked by English voyages in which commercial objects were most largely to the fore, the promoters getting clearance papers from the government. Once in the Pacific, these voyagers acted much as had their predecessors the buccaneers, plundering the Spaniards. The voyages were different in that the government required records to be kept, many of which were published, and in the general endeavor to advance knowledge

  about the Pacific coasts, men of science often accompanied the expeditions. The first of this series of voyages was headed by Dampierre, who left England in 1699 with a fleet of five ships. The expedition subsequently split up into four separate voyages, owing to the inability of different officers and men to agree with Dampierre. Dampierre got as far north as the coast of New Spain in 1704-1705, before pursuing his voyage around the world. Clipperton and Funnel got back

  to England by a similar voyage. The expedition had been a financial failure, but some Bristol merchants were persuaded to make another venture. The new expedition set sail in 1708 under the command of Woods Rogers. Three years later, it got back to England with an immense profit, largely the result of having captured the Manila Galleon off Cape San Lucas in 1709. After this encounter, Woods Rogers took the usual route around the world. Many companies now sprang

  up, but they were unable to equal the success of Woods Rogers. The Shellvac-Clipperton voyages along the coast of New Spain in 1721 were the most noteworthy. The English voyages, even when unprofitable to their backers, cost the Spaniards enormous losses, both in property taken or destroyed and in precautionary measures. They also increased England's knowledge of the Pacific and its shores. Spain's sense of danger may well have been enhanced by the vast literature about these voyages

  and the popular interest in them in England. A new era began with the outbreak of war between England and Spain in 1739. The departure was marked by the fitting out of an expedition at government expense, a formal naval enterprise under the command of George Anson. Anson took the customary route around the world in the years 1740 to 1744, in the course of which he cruised the western shores of New Spain. Failing to encounter the Manila Galleon, he crossed to the

  Philippine islands and took one there. Although he did not make a profit and lost most of his men, he had caused an immense expense and a great loss to Spain. Furthermore, among the papers taken in the captured Galleon were those which reveal the Spanish secrets of the Pacific. There were sailing directions for South American coast and the Trans-Pacific routes, with charts showing islands, shoals, landmarks, harbors, and the like. The Pacific was no longer a closed sea.

  After the Seven Years' War, a new type of voyage began. The semi-paradical voyages of the past were no longer in accord with public morals, nor was there the excuse of war. Voyages for scientific objects and discovery began therefore to be set out, with instructions not to interfere with the ships or territory of European peoples with whom England was at peace. The impetus came from France, who, having lost her colonies by the Peace of 1763, was eager to replace them by new discoveries.

  The English quickly followed the French lead by the Voyage of Byron, 1764 to 1766, and Wallace and Carteret in 1766 to 1769. These voyagers went around the world by way of South America and the South Pacific. Then came the most important voyage of all, and especially interesting here, as they fall within the period of principal interest in this work, the Three Voyages of Captain James Cook. The first voyage occupied the years 1768 to 1771. One object was to observe the

  transit of Venus, the island of Tahiti being selected as a place at which to do it. Cook followed the path of Byron, Wallace, and Carteret. After the observation had been taken at Tahiti, he proceeded westward and made extensive explorations in New Zealand and Australia. Upon his return to England, he was commissioned to go again to the South Pacific to determine whether a great southern continent existed there, about which speculation had been rife for two

  centuries. The expedition took place in 1772 to 1775, and the myth of the southern continent was exploded. Perhaps a more important fact here is that in all his voyage he lost but four men, and only one by sickness. This was the result of special preparations by Cook. Before his time, it was usually the case that from 40 to 75% of the crew were lost. Cook's methods were published and were followed by later voyagers. It meant that the terror of the seas had been banished,

  and in a very great degree made Spain's retention of power in the Pacific so much the less secure. Cook's third voyage left England in the year 1776, and, as will be pointed out in a later chapter, caused the Spanish government no little anxiety. One of its objects was to attack another long-standing myth, that of a practical water passage through or around North America. Cook was commissioned to approach this problem from the Pacific side. He was also to get information to

  the coast, and was secretly instructed to take possession for England of all lands not hitherto discovered or visited by Europeans. En route, he discovered the Hawaiian islands in 1778, a group destined to occupy an important place in later voyages of the 18th century. He reached the North American coast in about 44 degrees, and proceeded northward. Some furs were picked up from the natives for mere trifles, and were later disposed of in China at such good

  prices as to open the eyes of the merchants to the possibilities of the fur trade. The result was a swarm of European vessels, particularly English ships on the northwest coasts in the last 15 years of the century. To return to Cook, he continued northward and passed through the Bering Strait, but was obliged by the ice to turn back. While wintering in the Hawaiian islands in 1779, he was killed in an affray with the natives. The expedition proceeded under the command of Captain

  Clerk. Clerk also passed through the Bering Strait, but he too was forced back by the ice, and soon afterward made his way around the world to England. To sum up, it is clear that English exploration in the Pacific was gathering momentum. Each new discovery and each advance in the science of navigation or other form of knowledge brought the Spanish Empire of the Pacific just so much nearer a fall. To this must be added not

  only the activities of the Russians, but also the voyages of the French, Dutch, and Portuguese. Furthermore, there were foes attacking from the Atlantic side, stripping Spain bit by bit of her colonies, and expanding into the unoccupied lands that brought them nearer to the Pacific coast. A little reflection will enable one to appreciate the vastness of the problem which Spain had to face. One other factor remains to be considered, that of the English advance across the North

  American continent. The westward progress of what was to become the United States had reached the Mississippi by 1776, but the American movement did not represent a threatening element as regards Spain's possessions in the Pacific until after the purchase of Louisiana in 1803. Until then, the political and geographical barriers were too great for the United States to be a danger. The Spanish government did contemplate the possibility of Americans crossing

  the Mississippi and encroaching on New Spain, but not on the Pacific Northwest. Events in Canada, however, and particularly the activities of the Hudson's Bay Company, did indeed threaten the far-flung coast of the Californias, and the peril was recognized by Spain. One must think back to the voyages of the Cabots, followed by a procession of English mariners seeking the Northwest Passage, Frobisher, Davis, Hudson, Baffin, James, and others, if he is to get this subject

  in a proper focus. France, however, was the first to get a foothold in Canada, and soon afterward, her colonists began to realize profits in the fur trade. Two Frenchmen, Goseillers and Radisson, paved the way for England's sharing in this trade. Dissatisfied with the rewards accorded them by the French, they temporarily entered the service of some Englishmen who were interested in exploiting the fur trade of Hudson Bay, and in 1668 started English fur trading operations in

  that region. The venture was a success, and led to the chartering of the Hudson's Bay Company in 1670. The company was granted a monopoly, and the proprietorship was civil and criminal jurisdiction of all Hudson Bay lands not actually possessed by a Christian prince. Down to the Treaty of Utrecht, the company was in almost continual war with the French, who did not recognize its rights to the territory. The Treaty of 1713, however, gave to England all

  lands embraced by the waters emptying into Hudson Bay and Strait. The region acquired was not definitely known, but at all events the attacks of the French now ceased. The trade in furs was very profitable. Perhaps for this reason, the company decided to let well enough alone, and adopted a policy of secrecy and restrictions. All but the servants of the company were kept away from the territory, and the founding of settlements, and even the

  making of discoveries, were discouraged. The discovery of a strait communicating with the Pacific had been one of the charter objects of the company, yet it was charged with opposing a search until forced to make the attempt. Likewise, agriculture and mining were not encouraged. As a result, after a century of existence, the company had in 1770 but seven posts, all close to the Hudson Bay, with a total population of about 200 men, all company servants.

  This exclusive policy had not passed without criticism. The most notable critic was a certain Arthur Dobbs, who devoted a large part of his life to attacking the company because of its failure to find the Northwest Passage. Several expeditions were made under the auspices, respectively, of the company in self-defense against Dobbs' charges, the government, and a private concern, the last name being financed by popular subscription. This activity took place,

  for the most part, between 1737 and 1747. Parliament manifested interest by offering £20,000 as a reward to the discoverer of the passage, but it was not found. It is noteworthy that in the last of these expeditions, one of the boats was named California, and the forming of a settlement in the Californias was contemplated, if the strait should be found, to serve as a base for a vast Pacific trade. Failing to find a passage, Dobbs now sought a charter for a new

  corporation, charging the Hudson's Bay Company with failure to extend its settlements to the interior. The case came up in 1749, and Dobbs' petition was denied. The matter is of no small importance. A new company would undoubtedly have stimulated exploration, and might have resulted in much earlier penetration by a British enterprise to the Pacific coast, with consequences that stir the imagination. From another standpoint, the Dobbs controversy is important. It attained a

  considerable publicity, and a number of books were written. These came to the notice of Spain, and were a cause of forebodings on her part. Twenty years later, the company at last awakened to the desirability of interior exploration. The great name is that of Samuel Hearn. Hearn's first journey came in the year 1769. He was sent out by the company to obtain information of the interior. In particular, he was to reach a certain river said to abound in copper ore and

  fur-bearing animals. This journey was a failure, and in another of 1770, he again failed to reach the River of Copper. In December of the same year, he started a third time, and on this occasion was successful, reaching the river since called the Copper Mine in July 1771, and descending it to its mouth in the Arctic Ocean. Not until June 1772 did he get back to the company's post on Hudson Bay. The Hearn explorations were followed by a new policy on the part of the company,

  which began thenceforth to push its trading operations inland. Not much progress had been made, however, by the close of the year 1776, which marks the end of the period of principal interests dealt with here. That the Spanish government might well have been alarmed is proved by the remarkable westward progress of the company and its rivals in the last quarter of the 18th century. An important competitor had sprung up in the Scottish merchants of Montreal,

  themselves the successors of the French since the Seven Years' War. Before that war had ended, they were already pushing into the region of the Great Lakes, and not long afterward penetrated as far as the Saskatchewan River. Gradually they drew together, and in the winter of 1783 to 1784, the Northwest Company was formed, an organization which was to accomplish vast results in the way of exploration. These companies were yet another powerful force in

  motion against the tottering Spanish Empire. In 1793, Alexander Mackenzie, a member of the Northwest Company, reached the Pacific in what is now British Columbia. Later the Hudson's Bay Company acquired the rights of the Northwest Company, and by 1828 was already operating in Alta California, while in 1841 an agency was established at San Francisco. Truly this line of approach represented a veritable danger to Spain and the Northwest, far greater than

  that of the Russians because of its greater resources in the way of an advancing base of supply. The gravest danger of all was that English advance which, by the Declaration of Independence, became American in 1776. It may be assumed that the outstanding details are known, and it need not be dwelt upon further than to say that it was slow moving and late to arrive, but had behind it the greatest force and momentum of all, in addition to a shorter and better route

  than those of the Russians and the English. All things being equal, the people from the Atlantic seaboard of the United States would be the first to reach the Pacific in sufficient strength to possess the Californias. As matters turned out, the equality of opportunity was not sufficiently disturbed to deprive the United States of the Pacific coast, but the drama of California history lies in the almost countless eventualities which tended to keep affairs in normal course to

  the advantage of the United States. When all these elements of foreign danger are rolled into one, it appears that Spain's fears, considerable as they were, were not only not groundless, but indeed far under the mark. A Spanish statesman who would have said in 1776, Let us devote ten times as much to the Californias as we have ever done before, or let us abandon them, would have been regarded, at the very least, as extravagant in his views.

  But he would have been not far from right.

• 21 - Antonio Bucareli

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  Chapter 21. A History of California, the Spanish Period. Chapter 21. Antonio Buccarelli. On September 23, 1771, the vice regal term of Marqués de Croix came to an end, and Buccarelli succeeded to his post. One needs only to glance at the full name and titles of the new viceroy to realize that he was a man of more than ordinary distinction.

  The following is the signature that appears in some of his most formal documents. The Knight Commander of the Order of Malta, Brother Don Antonio Maria Buccarelli e Ursua, Inestrosa Lazo de la Vega, Villacis y Cordova, Knight, Grand Cross, and Commander of the Vault of Toro in the Order of St. John, Gentleman of the Chamber of His Majesty with Right of Entrance, Lieutenant General of the

  Royal Armies, Viceroy, Governor, and Captain General of the Kingdom of New Spain, President of its Royal Audencia, Superintendent General of the Royal Estate in the Branch of Tobacco, Judge-Conservator of the latter, President of its Junta, and Subdelegate General of the Rent of the Males in the same Kingdom. Ordinarily, however, the viceroy signed with only a portion of his family name, and frequently was satisfied with no more than plain Buccarelli. According to

  Bancroft, he, quote, was a native of Seville and related to the most noble families of Spain and Italy, being, on his paternal side, a descendant from a very distinguished family of Florence, which boasted among its connections three popes, six cardinals, and other high officers of the state and church. And, on the maternal, the Ursuas were related to several ducal families. The knight entered the military service of his country as a cadet, and rose by gallantry and

  honorable service to be Lieutenant General. He had distinguished himself in several campaigns in Italy and Spain, in engineering work, and as the Inspector General of Cavalry. Lastly, he was called to be Governor and Captain General of Cuba, where he again rendered valuable services to the Crown, which were rewarded with a promotion to the viceroyalty of New Spain. Nor was this the only reward. He was not only permitted to grant offices to twelve of his

  friends and attachés, a privilege that had been withheld for some years from his predecessors, but was given, by royal order of January 22nd, 1777, an increase of $20,000 a year above what had been the viceroy's salary, making it $80,000 as a mark of special favor. Numerous instances, besides those just mentioned, prove the esteem in which he was held, both for his abilities and for his characteristics as an honorable man.

  On one occasion, the merchants loaned him $2,500,000 with no security except his word. At his death, the King ordered that there should be no residencia or examination into his conduct while in office. Of course, said Vancroft, unprecedented in the history of royal representation. Mexican historians do not ordinarily speak well of their Spanish governors. Nevertheless, Manuel Rivera has this to say.

  The period during which Signor Buccarelli ruled was an uninterrupted sequence of peace for New Spain. It seemed as if Providence wished to reward the virtues of the viceroy by scattering upon his subjects everything that contributed to their well-being. He was one of those men whose memory will never be erased from the hearts of Mexicans. His administration is a clear example of what this land was able to be when a man of integrity and intelligence resolutely undertook the difficult

  task of developing its elements of wealth. In fine, for ability and high character, Buccarelli stands out as one of the greatest men in the history of New Spain. Far from being a narrow bureaucrat, he was capable of a broad point of view which grasped both the patent and the underlying problems of the entire viceroyalty. A well-developed sense of perspective was one of his most marked traits, enabling him to see matters as they were, but not checking him from

  taking measures to circumvent possible ills which to him did not appear greatly threatening. His letters show him to have been simple, straightforward, unselfish, clear-thinking, and sincerely religious, without a shadow of conceit or pretense, and even without great personal ambition except to perform his duty to the full. Finally, he was keenly interested in the problems that he encountered and was an indefatigable worker, and these characteristics,

  joined to the rest, make it clear why he achieved such success in the face of difficulties that would have proved insuperable to a less capable ruler. The extraordinary activities of Buccarelli are all the more surprising when it is realized that he had not desired his promotion to the viceroyalty but would have preferred to return to Spain. Even after he entered upon his new duties, he never ceased to hope that he might be succeeded, especially if the new appointee might be his

  intimate personal friend, General Alejandro O'Reilly, who wanted the post. Fate decreed that neither of the two men should have his wish, and Buccarelli died in harness in 1779. No doubt, Buccarelli's desire to have affairs in the best possible shape for his friend O'Reilly entered into his zeal for the achievement of his ends. But the viceroy seems, anyway, to have been one of those rare individuals who can throw themselves wholeheartedly into an

  enterprise merely out of a sense of duty without a thought of self. With Buccarelli's conduct of the affairs of the viceroyalty, other than as they related to California's, this volume has no concern. It is true, however, that nothing interested him more than the precariously held province in the far northwest. It was not until 1773 that this interest began to show forth most keenly. Indeed, unable to get accurate accounts of conditions in Alta California,

  and aware of the stupendous difficulties in the way of its retention, he reported in February 1773, as already stated, that an early abandonment of the province might be expected. But it was just about at that time that his measures began to take effect, and in the next three years, 1773 to 1776, while the Californias remained under his direct rule, he engaged in a series of activities which were remarkable alike for their range and for their success. The underlying basis of

  Buccarelli's measures with respect to the Californias was his desire to check even the possibility of foreign encroachments on the domains of New Spain. The first intimation of European aggressions came early in 1773, when it was rumored that an Englishman named Bings was undertaking a voyage to the North Pole with a view to reaching the Californias, if possible. About the middle of the same year, reports of Russian activities in the Pacific Northwest

  reached Buccarelli. These had emanated, late in 1772, from the Spanish ambassador to Russia, and were of an alarmist variety. But it was characteristic of the Viceroy that he did not become excited, though he acted much more expeditiously and effectively than the most terrified believer in these views might have done. Referring to these reports in a letter of July 27, 1773, to Arriaga, he expressed some doubt whether the Russians had actually reached North

  America, and alluded to the difficulties they would have in establishing themselves, but gave his opinion that precautionary measures ought to be taken. I deem it well that any establishment of the Russians in this continent, or of any other foreign power, ought to be guarded against, he said. Not that the king needs any extension of territory, when there is much more in his own dominions than can be settled in centuries,

  but rather to avoid the consequences which would follow from having other neighbors than the Indians. Thus did Buccarelli, like scores of men before his time as well as after, foreshadow the Monroe Doctrine, pronounced in 1823 by one of the peoples whom the original Annunciators had intended to check. Continuing, Buccarelli said, As for the Russians, it may be possible, though it will be difficult, for them to establish

  themselves, but there is no doubt that it will be prejudicial to the dominions of the king if they succeed. Reason persuades us that it will be less difficult for the king to prevent it than for the Russians to undertake it, though at much cost to the treasury. This seems also to have represented the views of the Minister-General in Spain, as appears from Arriaga's letter of January 24, 1774, to Buccarelli.

  As for the Russian discoveries, he said, to me they are still a very remote object of attention, and the present time seems much too early for them to be a cause for alarm. But as the preparations against them may serve many other purposes, especially in that they conduce to the missionary work and the extension of the gospel, the more land we gain by discoveries, I am very well satisfied with all that has been done, for in this manner, by sea and land,

  we may proceed with our conquests in one place after another. Here was imperialism under a religious cloak, but nothing like fear. As for the English, Buccarelli expressed the prevailing opinion in a letter of September 28, 1774, to Arriaga, referring to the possibility of the English having extended their conquests westward to the Pacific from Hudson Bay. He said,

  This seems to me a very distant prospect which does not at the present time impose new cares upon us. Indeed, it has the same appearances of invention as a pretended passage from that bay to our South Sea, the Pacific Ocean, of which public accounts have spoken so much." Clearly, therefore, the Spaniards did not look upon this period as one of particular emergency any more than they had in 1768 to 1769. But on the long-standing ground of foreign danger,

  in fulfillment of the Spanish Monroe Doctrine, a remarkable series of activities were set in motion by the viceroy, with results which were the dominating element in the future of Alta California and much else of the Pacific coast. Chronologically considered, the outstanding events in the achievement of his policies were the following. He procured the formation of a reglamento, instrument of government, for the Californias and San Blas in July 1773,

  supplementing it by his instructions of the following month to Rivera. In September, he authorized Captain Anza to open a land route to Alta California, as a result of which a successful expedition was made in 1774. In November 1773, he ordered Colonel Augustine Creme to explore the Isthmus of Tehuantepec in search of a route for the transportation of artillery from the Atlantic to the Pacific. And in the next two months,

  this exploration was undertaken with success. In December 1773, the dispatch of Juan Perez on a voyage of exploration to the far northwest was formally decided upon, and during most of the next year, Perez engaged upon the voyage. Early in 1774, Rivera was sent to Alta California by way of the peninsula with a small party of colonists. On Perez's return on November 1774, after a voyage of only moderate success, Bucureli at once determined upon a fresh series of voyages.

  As a result, Eseta and Bodega were dispatched to the northwest coast in 1775, and the Yala passed through the Golden Gate and thoroughly explored San Francisco Bay. Meanwhile, in November 1774, Bucureli had authorized Anza to take a great body of colonists and herds of domestic animals to Alta California along the route that Anza had recently discovered. This expedition, second only to the discovery of gold in 1848 in its positive consequences

  upon California history, took place in 1775-1776. As one of its important incidents, it brought about the founding of San Francisco in 1776, and through all these years the Viceroy was most energetic in providing for the supply and development of the Californias and of the Department of San Blas on which they so greatly depended. His plan and the preliminary steps for their accomplishments reached much further. He wished to bring about the discovery of new routes

  connecting New Mexico with Alta California and Sonora. This was in part achieved by Father Garces in 1776, before Bucureli had given the formal order for an exploration. He was also about to establish settlements on the Gila and Colorado rivers, more particularly at the junction of the two in order to secure the land route to Alta California when a change of government occurred late in 1776 which took the frontier provinces out of his jurisdiction. The total result of his work

  was to place Alta California on a permanent basis and ensure it from foreign seizure until such time as an overland advance from the Atlantic coast of upper North America should reach the Pacific. Given three years more time, he would almost certainly have brought about a populist development of Alta California by use of the Sonora route. The inevitable result would have been the discovery of gold and a rush of colonists to the province. The chances are, however, that the influx would

  have resembled that at Ciengüela in 1771 rather than the predominantly Anglo-American colonization of 1848 to 1849. In that case, California would today have been, most likely, a Spanish-American republic, though the probability of its passing under the English flag was not small and there was a remote chance that it might have become a Russian province. In fine, then, Bucureli saved Alta California temporarily for Spain and ultimately for the United States and was only prevented from

  making an eventual gift of the province to Spanish America or perhaps England by an occurrence, fortunately for the present possessors, over which he had no control. The events which brought about these great consequences are too important to be passed over summarily. Having already outlined them, however, it will be possible in the next several chapters to abandon chronology and treat the subject according to the different lines of

  endeavor by which Bucureli aspired to reach a single end, the defense of the Californias against the possibility of foreign encroachment, which, it must be borne in mind, was at all times the main spring of the Viceroy's action, though other reasons were prominently set forth by others and even by himself. Thus, such a harmless document as the instruction to Rivera in 1773, year and after considered, was produced by the reports of English and Russian aggressions,

  and the Anza expeditions were ordered for the same purpose, though hardly a word to that effect appears in the discussion of Junta's call to consider them. The official communications directed by Bucureli to Arriaga and his private correspondence with O'Reilly repeatedly affirmed this idea, however. Furthermore, nothing in the affairs of the Viceroyalty interested him so much or got so large a share of his attention as the problems of the Californias and the route thereto from Sonora.

  As he put it on one occasion, it seems as if this has been my only attention in this command. It is appropriate to treat, first, of his activities directly against the possibility of foreign danger, leaving for later discussions of those measures which contributed indirectly to the same end by strengthening Alta California against the likelihood of abandonment. If an attack by foreign powers had to be met, the new settlements would require cannon with

  which to defend themselves. The problem of transportation across New Spain was so difficult that it had been the practice to rely upon shipments from Manila for use along the Pacific coast of North America. Wishing to avoid the delays incident to the long voyage across the Pacific, Bucureli sent Colonel Crommet to the Isthmus of Tehuantepec to see if a good route existed. A tradition had long been current to the effect that Cortes had used that route for the

  transportation of artillery, and there were also some cannon at Vera Cruz on the Atlantic, which had been cast in Manila. Late in December 1773 and early in January 1774, Crommet made his exploration and reported that he had found an excellent route. Indeed, by making use of the rivers, he said it would even be feasible to build a canal from sea to sea. Pleased with this initial success, Bucureli wrote to Arriaga that it might be well to employ this

  route for the supply of the Californias. No such use seems to have been made of Crommet's discovery, but it is interesting to note that in recent times the Isthmus of Tehuantepec has been one of the principal trade routes connecting California with the Atlantic ports of the United States. Of much more actual importance was the Perez voyage of 1774. Since the founding of Alta California, Juan Perez had been by far the most notable maritime figure in the life of the province,

  and when he now signified his desire to make a voyage to the far northwest, Bucureli eagerly availed himself of his services. The essential features of instructions, which were dated December 24, 1773, were the following. He was to put to sea in the Santiago and it David to reach 60 degrees north latitude. Turning southward, he was then to make a thorough exploration of the coast, landing as often as possible and taking possession. And he was to

  avoid communication with foreign ships or foreign settlements, but was in other ways to procure such information of them as he could. On January 24, 1774, Perez left Zamblas and after stops at San Diego and Monterrey, departed from the latter on June 11. He got to about 55 degrees, thus forging the first link in the later claim of the United States in succession to Spain of 54-40-year fight. But on account of bad weather, he was unable to land or even make good observations of the coast.

  Furthermore, he found no Russian settlements and no clear proof either that they did not exist. On July 22, he turned south, and on November 3, after a long stop at Monterrey, reached the port of Zamblas. He had indeed procured some information, and Bucarelli was satisfied that he had achieved as much as could have been expected. But preparations were at once begun for a fresh voyage of discovery. The voyage now projected was to be one of the most thorough

  going of any the Spaniards had ever set out. Bruno de Haceta, on the Santiago, was to be in command, while Perez was to be his pilot and second in authority. The 36-foot craft Sonora, under Juan Manuel de Ayala, was to serve as consort of the Santiago. These two vessels carried much the same instructions as those given to Perez a year before, but 65 degrees was now set as the northerly point which they should endeavor to reach before turning south. At the same time,

  the San Carlos, under Miguel Monrique, was to make a thorough survey of San Francisco Bay, the former so-called estuary, which had now become definitely recognized by the name previously applied to the smaller port to the north. I regard the occupation of this port as indispensable, wrote Bucarelli, in discussing his plans for Monrique's voyage. Yet another ship, the San Antonio, under Fernando Quiroz, was to go to Alta California with the other three,

  but was to proceed only as far as San Diego, with supplies for the southern missions. The San Antonio did, in fact, not leave port until five days after the rest of the fleet, but the other three set sail from San Blas on March 16, 1775. The voyage had not proceeded far when the commander of the San Carlos became insane, and it was necessary to send him ashore. This occasioned a shifting of commanders. Ayala was placed on board the San Carlos,

  while Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Cuadra took charge of the Sonora. The Santiago and Sonora went on to the far northwest without stopping in Alta California. On July 30, they became separated and did not come together again until they met at Monterey in the fall. Eseta got to about 49 degrees, usually sailing near the shore and anchoring often. In the course of his exploration, he discovered the mouth of the Columbia River,

  thus antedating the American sailor Robert Gray, long reputed to be the discoverer, by 17 years. Sickness of his crew had linked the force to Eseta to turn back, and by August 29 he was already at Monterey. Bodega, who was destined to attain the greatest reputation of the Spanish navigators along the northwest coast, accomplished even more. He went to nearly 58 degrees with the tiny Sonora, made a thorough survey from the limit formerly reached by Perez, and landed twice

  to take possession. Scurvy, in the low state of his provisions, finally caused him to make for Monterey, but he continued to explore the coast as best he could until on October 7 he rejoined as chief at the Alta California capital. On November 1, the last two ships departed in company for San Blas, arriving there on November 20. On the second day out from Monterey, Juan Perez died. No man of his time knew the coast of the California so well as he,

  and none had worked more faithfully and unassumingly for the good of the new establishments. The voyages of Eseta and Bodega had been an unqualified success. In addition to their exploration and acts of possession, they had found no foreign ships or settlements, and could feel reasonably certain that those coasts were safe from aggression so far as they had seen them. More important, perhaps, in its ultimate results, was the voyage of Ayala to San

  Francisco Bay. At the same moment that he was making his way up the coast from San Blas to Monterey, the Lexington farmers in far-off Massachusetts were firing the shot that was heard around the world. Ayala may well have failed to hear that shot, but he was made painfully aware of another. The insane Manrique had left loaded pistols about his cabin, and one of these was accidentally exploded, wounding Ayala. On this account, Ayala was obliged

  to conduct much of his subsequent explorations of San Francisco Bay through his subordinates, José Cañizares and Juan Bautista Aguirre. But Ayala himself remained with the ship to the end of the voyage. Stopping long enough at Monterey to build a launch by hollowing out the trunk of a redwood tree, Ayala set sail again on July 27th. Eight days later, on August 4th, he arrived off the entrance to San Francisco Bay. Early the next day, he sent Cañizares inside with a launch

  to look for an anchorage, but when Cañizares did not return during all that day, for the currents and tides of the Golden Gate had proved too strong, Ayala resolved to attempt an entrance himself. During the evening of the 5th of August, therefore, the little son Carlos successfully passed through the strait into the famous Port of the West and anchored near the present North Beach. Cañizares and Ayala between them had thus

  attained to the honor of making the first recorded entrance into San Francisco Bay by way of the Golden Gate. For the next 44 days, Ayala and his men remained in the bay, making a thorough exploration of every part of it, even as far as the mouth of the San Joaquin River, taking soundings and naming geographical points. Two of their names have survived, though in slightly different form. The great island just inside the strait, in a sheltered nook of which the San Carlos itself

  remained during most of their stay, while the launch was used for explorations, was called Our Lady of the Angels, Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles, and the name remains in the present Angel Island. Another island was called by them the Island of the Pelagans, Isla de los Alcatrases, and the name appears today in Alcatraz Island. Curiously enough, however, this name has jumped over several miles of water, for it was applied by the Spaniards to Yerbauea, vulgarly called

  Goat Island, instead of to the islet which now bears the name. Rivera had been ordered to cooperate with Ayala in erecting buildings for the settlers who were about to be sent from Sonora, but the indolent, procrastinating governor never left Monterrey, and this part of the viceroy's plan was not now accomplished. But a vast deal of information had been acquired. On September 18th, Ayala left the bay, having failed to get out in a previous attempt on

  September 7th, and the following day he anchored at Monterrey, whence, not long afterward, he departed for San Blas. Ayala reported to Bucarelli that the bay of San Francisco was the best that he had seen in those seas from Cape Horn North, and added that it was not one port but many with a single entrance. Giving a summary view of his impressions, he described the bay as follows, quote, The said bay is a good port, not only because of

  the fine proportions which it offers to the site, but also because there is no scarcity of good water, wood, and stone for ballast. Its climate, though cold, is entirely helpful, and is free of the annoying daily fogs experienced at Monterrey. To all these advantages must be added the best of all, which is that the heathen Indians of the port are so faithful in their friendship, and so docile in their disposition, that I was greatly pleased to receive them on board, end quote.

  San Franciscans today would, no doubt, like to believe that what Ayala said about the fogs was true for all seasons and all years. The great voyages of 1775 closed, for a time, the activities directly against foreign encroachments. On the Pérez, Haceta, and Bodega voyages alone, Spain had spent more than 50,000 pesos, then considered an enormous sum, especially by a government which was not in the habit of applying its resources to quixotic

  schemes. It seemed at the time that Spain had assured herself that the danger was not very pressing. Just at the moment when James Cook was about to sail from England on a voyage that was to bring home the reality of Spain's traditional fears. Bucureli, however, was by no means inclined to give up his measures, for on the ground of the long-standing and eventual peril he understood that would be best to carry on the aggressive defensive in order to place Spain in a strong position

  against the time when the storm should break. Meanwhile, he had, all along, at least since early in 1773, been devoting his attention to matters indirectly conducive to the same end. It is now time to review some of those activities. End of chapter 21.

• 22 - Bucareli's Attention to the Local Problems of the Californias

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  CHAPTER XXII. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. CHAPTER XXII. BUCARELI'S ATTENTION TO THE LOCAL PROBLEMS OF THE CALIFORNIA'S. Nothing is more characteristic of Bucarelli's services to Alta California than his attention to the purely local problems of the province, though in these, as in other matters, he was

  influenced primarily by his desire to ward off an eventual foreign danger. His activities centered around two principal ideas, that of averting an abandonment of Alta California through watchful care over the remission of supplies by sea and over the affairs of the Department of San Blas, and constructive measures for the government and development of the northern province. As already pointed out, the climate and natural

  resources of Alta California were not sufficient in themselves to keep civilized men alive, however well the Indians were able to subsist. Everything had to come from Mexico or from Spain. Even food had to be sent, for the colonists could not depend upon acorns and chance supplies of bear meat, and agricultural products and domestic animals were not yet raised in sufficient quantities to provide for the needs of the new establishments. In practice, all of these

  things, provisions, goods and effects, were shipped to San Diego and Monterey from the port of San Blas, off the west coast of New Spain. Founded by Galvez in 1768, San Blas was to be the principal medium between Alta California and the outside world during most of the Spanish period. The development of an overland route to Alta California was necessary, for the elements of permanence, settlers and domestic animals, could not be forwarded in the

  storm-tossed, scurvy-stricken, cockle-shelled boats which Spain employed along the Pacific Coast. But the sending of supply ships was an equally vital necessity without which the province would soon have been abandoned. Alta California had been saved by a narrow margin in 1770, when the dutiful Portolaw held out against starvation until relief came. In 1772, Fagas had averted failure by a successful bear hunt. The greatest peril of all,

  perhaps, came in 1774, when Alta California was in the midst of the worst famine it had ever experienced. This time, the hero of the occasion was none other than the viceroy Buccarelli, who saved the situation by his good judgment and his attention to the supply ships. By his good judgment, for, in spite of reports from the pilots of the supply ships, the commissary of San Blas, governors Barry and Fagas, and Father Verger, who his father superior of the College

  of San Fernando was in receipt of communications from the missionaries, to the effect that Alta California was well supplied with provisions, he resolved to play the game safely and sent off an extra ship. And, by his attention to the supply ships, in that, at this time and thereafter, he saw to it that the provisions were good and that the boats got off on time, despite the difficulties, presently to be mentioned, in maintaining the department of San Blas.

  Meanwhile, there had been an all-around scarcity in Alta California, lasting from the summer of 1773 to the spring of 1774, during which time the Spaniards of the Presidios and missions lived principally on milk, and none too much of that, for there were few animals to supply it. Herbs were sought to eke out the colonists' scanty fare. The lack was equally great in manufactured articles of civilized life, though it was perhaps less pressing than the need for food.

  Writing in June 1774, Rivera reported a lack of essential articles at the Presidios. Some of the soldiers had a gun but no sword, some a sword but no gun, and some had neither one nor the other. Munitions were also scarce. Furthermore, there was a need for soap and, this surely was important, for tobacco. Utter famine was subverted, and relief in other respects extended when Perez put in at San Diego on March 13, 1774, in the Santiago. Perez, however, was in the midst of

  his voyage of exploration to the northwest coast and needed great stores of supplies for himself. It had not been intended that he should leave anything for the southern colonies, though he had planned to provide for Monterrey and the north. The south was to receive supplies which had for this one time been landed in Baja California, but the old problems of the peninsula route, notably the lack of pack animals,

  had prevented Governor Berry from forwarding them. Because of his anxiety over the Perez voyage, Bucarelli had decided to send out a second ship. Wholly on his own initiative, he arranged for a voyage of the San Antonio, and it was the arrival of this vessel, not long after Perez and the Santiago, that put the province out of danger. San Diego was relieved in March 1774. The other southern missions had to wait a while until the

  provisions could be taken to them by mule train, and those of the north held out yet longer until the relief ships got to Monterrey. Having had one narrow escape from failure, Bucarelli never again allowed Alta California to incur such risk. It is now time to point out that the affairs of the Department of San Blas, on which both Californias depended, were no slight problem in themselves, but just as he had meanwhile attacked questions of the internal conditions of Sonora and Baja

  California because of their bearing on the settlements in Alta California, so too Bucarelli turned intently and efficiently to the situation at San Blas. The port itself at San Blas was inadequate, and shortly after its founding it began to show signs of filling in. Several times, ships ran aground within the port. Soundings were taken of nearby ports, and numerous suggestions were made to locate the department at Acapulco or elsewhere,

  but the change was never made. Furthermore, the site was more than usually unhealthful. Not only did this affect the men, but also food supplies could not be stored at San Blas, for they would spoil. It was necessary, therefore, to make careful calculations so that provisions would arrive only shortly before a ship was about to depart for the north. A more serious difficulty arose from the lack of sufficient shipping to carry on the duties of the

  department, such as the sending of supplies to Alta and Baja California and engaging in explorations of the northwest coast. Naturally, this problem tended to become harder to solve as Alta California developed, for more and more provisions, goods, and effects were needed than formerly. This difficulty may be illustrated by the state of affairs in 1776 after Anza's colonists had reached Alta California and therefore greatly increased its population. Writing to Arriaga in

  August, Buccarelli explained that there were then five boats employed by the department, of which four were absent on provisioned voyages, two having gone to the northern province and two to the peninsula. Meanwhile, orders had come from Spain to use one ship to carry Jose de Areche, at that time Fiscal of the Audencia of Mexico, to Peru, where he was to serve as visitador, and also to employ two ships for a fresh series of explorations in the northwest

  to begin in December 1777. Yet the two ships bound for Alta California had not been able to carry all that was needed. It was almost essential that the only remaining ship at San Blas should also go north, but the orders were imperative to send Areche to Peru at once. On this occasion, Buccarelli was aided by good luck. A stray merchant ship happened to put in at Acapulco, an unusual occurrence in those days of trade prohibition. It was at once pressed into service

  for Areche's use and the Santiago at San Blas was freed for the supply voyage. There still remained the question of northwestward exploration, which was impossible of execution without more ships. Buccarelli solved this on his own initiative without waiting for authority from Spain. He ordered the postponement of the exploring voyages for a year, on the grounds that it was much more important to ensure supplying the Californias lest Spain lose what she already had.

  He sent Bodega to Peru with Areche to procure a ship there, and he himself took steps to have another built at San Blas. Thus was the emergency taken care of. It should be noted that this is presented only as an illustration of the kinds of problems that confronted the Viceroy almost every year. One may wonder why it was that boats in sufficient number and of adequate size were not built at San Blas. The answer to such a query goes to the root of Buccarelli's principal

  difficulties in the maintenance of the department. In the first place, he at all times had to manage with scant funds. So much has already been said on this phase of Spanish colonial policy that there is no need to dilate upon it here. Even aside from this factor, the Viceroy was at his wit's end to procure both the manufactured articles and the men required for shipbuilding and the other tasks of the department. This may be illustrated by the events of 1775 to 1777.

  Late in the year 1775, there arose a need at San Blas for certain tools, iron, canvas, tackle, and artillery. The backward state of New Spain can be understood when it is said that these things had to be procured elsewhere. It was necessary to send to Spain for the tools and iron, but it was hoped that the other effects might be picked up in Havana. Orders were given immediately for both requests to be supplied. The affair was handled with all possible speed in Spain,

  with the result that the tools and iron reached San Blas about a year after the request. At best, therefore, the Viceroy had to know the needs of the department for a year ahead. This was only at best, as becomes clear by a review of the attempts to procure the materials in Havana. Buccarelli's original request was made on August 27, 1775, and this he followed up repeatedly with other petitions. The canvas, tackle, and artillery got clogged up in Spanish

  administration in spite of all that Buccarelli could do. It proved impossible to get them at Havana, and the authorities in Spain hesitated before the great expense of shipping them from Europe. Finally, in April 1777, after nearly two years of fruitless endeavor, Buccarelli wrote to the Viceroy of Peru to see if they could be supplied from there. Presumably, he got them, though the evidence has not yet come to light. But if he did, it was only after many more months.

  At least equally difficult was the problem of getting the men that the department required. Soldiers were needed, not on account of the Indians, but to suppress disorderly sailors. Sailors in port, after a long voyage, are traditionally inclined to be refractory, but this was not the sole or perhaps the principal reason why the soldiers had to be on hand. The sailors objected chiefly to being sailors at all, especially for the death-dealing Alta

  California voyages. They knew well that their prospects of escaping the scurvy were slight, and the chances of death if they contracted the dread disease were very great. It was therefore necessary almost to drive them aboard ship. Thus it was that soldiers had to be obtained, and governmental authorization was necessary as they involved expenditures. Similarly, the men needed for other purposes had to be authorized by the Spanish government.

  Thus, in 1775, when there was no surgeon or chaplain at San Blas, Buccarelli had to get a permit in order to supply them. Early in 1776, Buccarelli asked for a number of pilots, carpenters and caulkers for the department. The men were sent from time to time, but through death or other causes, the posts were rarely filled. In November 1776, Buccarelli asked for a shipbuilder, who of course had to be procured in Spain. One man was appointed, but managed to avoid the

  disagreeable duty. Finally, another was selected in November 1777, and over his objection, on the ground that he was leaving his family destitute, was forced on board ship and obliged to go. Presumably, he arrived at San Blas at some time in the spring or summer of 1778, and his ship was built there in that year, which took part in the voyages of exploration of 1779. It would be seen, therefore, that the difficulties of supplying the Californias were very great.

  Yet the Viceroy was able to manage it, despite the long and, so far as he was concerned, unavoidable delays in connection with the department's demands. Yet, at the same time that he was attending to such other maritime affairs as the voyages of exploration along the northwest coast, he was also able both to sustain and to some extent develop the Californias, especially the new establishments in the north. From the time of his arrival in the

  Viceroyalty, Buccarelli gave a great share of his attention to the local affairs of San Blas, first with the idea of retaining what Spain already possessed, and later with a view to their development. The earliest problem was that of an adjustment of internal affairs. The first great step was taken in 1772, when two Californias were divided, for missionary purposes, between the Franciscans of San Fernando and the Dominicans. Ever since 1768, the Viceroyalty was able to

  gain entry to the peninsula, but had been prevented from doing so by the opposition of Galvez. By 1772, however, the Franciscans themselves made no objection. So the division was made, the boundary being placed a few miles farther south than the present international line. It is worthy of note that the Franciscans consented because they had learned to appreciate the scant utility of Baja California, whether as a mission field or as an aid to the much more

  valuable country farther north. As regards the matter of a route, they hoped to profit by an establishment of communications with Sonora, which they realized would be of far more use to them than the connection with the peninsula. The division of the Californias was only one of a number of preliminary measures looking toward the forming of a reglamento, or instrument of government, for the Californias assemblas. A great step ahead was taken with the

  arrival of Fr. Serra in Mexico in February 1773. This was the occasion when he came from Alta, California, with the object of procuring the removal of Governor Fagas and the adoption of regulations which he believed essential to the continuance of missionary work in the northern province. Though the substitution of Rivera for Fagas, due to Serra's request, was an unwise step, there can be no doubt that the father president rendered a great service to Alta, California,

  during the several months that he remained in the capital. He came to Mexico at a time when Bucarelli was all at sea over the affairs of the Californias. Serra was just the man he needed for the information that he required, and it is to the credit of both Fr. Junipero and of the viceroy that they used their opportunities for conferring to the full. One result was that Bucarelli was able to proceed with more confidence to the forming of a reglamento. The first California code was the

  Reglamento Provisional of 1773. This was drawn up by Juan Jose de Esteveste, whose name is often applied to it, who had gained much of the knowledge upon which he based his reglamento throughout having been several years the purchasing agent in Mexico City for the two Californias. The reglamento, in its final form, had little of what would ordinarily be expected in an instrument of government. It was composed of three documents. The recommendations of Esteveste, dated May 19th,

  1773. The supplementary opinion of Ahunta of July 8th, making some modifications. And Bucarelli's decree of July 23rd, adopting the suggestions of Esteveste with the changes proposed by the Ahunta. The body of the whole instrument was the Esteveste document, the terminology of which suggested and argued in favor of certain courses of action, but did not order them. These, of course, became commands by virtue of Bucarelli's decree. Naturally, there were many paragraphs of a temporary nature,

  and on the other hand, much that actually applied to the government of Californias was either taken for granted on the basis of Spain's general colonial policy, or else depended upon earlier isolated orders of the governors and the father president. The Esteveste Reglamento opened with an estimate of the annual expenditure required for the maintenance of the two Californias and the department of San Blas, all three of which regions were to be, in a measure, subject to the

  same jurisdiction. The plans for Alta California called for an establishment of 82 soldiers, four carpenters, four blacksmiths, four muleteers, and two warehouse keepers, without counting the missionaries who were provided for out of the Pius Fund. This would necessitate a governmental expenditure of about 39,000 pesos a year, but it would amount really to about 16,000 as it was proposed to charge goods to the soldiers at an advance of 150 percent over the price in Mexico

  City, the extra amount being considered a proper allowance for freight. Goods for Baja California would be charged at 100 percent increase, but nothing extra was to be collected in the case of San Blas. The total annual expenditure chargeable to the royal treasury for all three regions was estimated at nearly 93,000 pesos. The salt mines of San Blas were expected to yield 25,000 pesos a year, and it was proposed to take 10,000 from the Pius Fund, but the remainder, nearly 58,000

  pesos, was to be paid by the government. Thus, clearly did Spain demonstrate her belief in the importance of the non-revenue producing Californias. Following the preliminary estimate came the Echevete Reglamento Proper in 17 numbered paragraphs. The most notable provision was that which aimed to encourage immigration to Alta California. Anybody who wished to go there was to be taken from San Blas free of charge, have free rations for five years, and be paid

  the wages of a sailor for two years. Once arrived in Alta California, his services were to be utilized for raising crops. You can well be imagined what a stampede there would be to come to California if such terms were offered today. But it helps to give perspective on the actual situation when it is realized that this generous measure, aside from its indication of the government's desires, was without effect. The colonization of Alta California was to require a distinct effort

  on the part of the Viceroy, but he was to provide it. One further paragraph may be noted. Strict provision was made for keeping accounts and giving information to the Viceroy. Buccarelli did not intend to be at a loss again on that score. Most noteworthy of the amendments by the Junta was one that the Paes Fund should be asked to contribute 10,000 pesos for the year 1774 alone. It was brought out that the institution was already expending nearly 15,000 pesos for the regularly

  established needs of the missionaries, besides extra sums for irregularly occurring eventualities. The Reglemento of 1773 should be taken in connection with the Viceroy's instruction to Rivera, the newly appointed governor of Alta California. These instructions, dated August 17, 1773, were largely an expansion of the terms of the Reglemento, a copy of which, including the amendments of the Junta, was attached. In addition, Buccarelli showed that he understood the scant

  prospects of volunteer colonization when he called upon Rivera to recruit some soldier settlers with their families to take to Alta California. Several paragraphs also were devoted to the precautions to be employed against the entry of foreign ships. Great emphasis was placed upon the maintenance of harmony with the religious and upon the care to be used in the selection of mission sites. Rivera was reminded that they might one day become great cities, a noteworthy statement

  not only because of its prophetic vision, but also because of the fact that Buccarelli actually contemplated such a development. Rivera was particularly charged to take steps to found a mission at San Francisco, which, henceforth, became one of the principal objectives of Buccarelli's policies. This because of the well-recognized importance of the port. The relations of Rivera with the governor of the Californias, then resident in the peninsula,

  were clearly defined. Rivera was to report to his superior at Loreto, but the latter was to have no power to change his measures. Thus was the virtual separation of the two Californias declared. Buccarelli reaped the inevitable reward of his appointment of Rivera to succeed Fagas, and he freely admitted his mistake when it became apparent. Rivera neglected to fulfill the Viceroy's instructions about the planting of crops and the all-around development of Alta California.

  It was therefore with great satisfaction that Buccarelli received the news in 1776 that, henceforth, the governor of the Californias was to reside in Monterrey and the lieutenant governor in Loreto. This meant an exchange to Rivera for the able and energetic Felipe de Neve, from whom Buccarelli, with good reason, expected better things. On Christmas Day 1776, Buccarelli issued his formal instruction to Neve. These instructions,

  in 27 paragraphs, were the last in the series of great documents by which Buccarelli provided for the internal management of the Californias, and together with a Reglamento of 1773, the instructions to Rivera, and a later Reglamento drawn up by Neve himself, were the foundation upon which Alta California was governed to the end of the Spanish period. From time to time there were other orders inconsistent with those just named,

  but none had equal influence. Among the more important of the orders given to Neve were those requiring him to take steps with a view to the founding of settlements in Alta California. He was called upon to establish two missions along the Santa Barbara Channel, two between San Diego and San Gabriel, a second mission at San Francisco, the eventual Santa Clara, and another between that and Monterrey. Great attention was paid to the economic development

  of the province. Neve was specifically charged to heed the instructions of that character which Rivera had failed to put into effect. Spanish settlers were to be given grants of land and encouraged to take up agriculture, for which purpose Buccarelli had shipped a quantity of plow shares and other utensils of husbandry. Various paragraphs displayed the viceroy's solicitude for the settlement at San Francisco, of which to him, more than to anybody else, the beginnings were due.

  Among other things, it may be noted that he was sending a surgeon, a carpenter, and a smith to that port from Mexico City and a mason from San Blas. The instructions to Neve were the basis for the only development occurring in Alta California for many years after 1776, for Neve's great work was in fulfillment of these commands rather than in obedience to any new orders from Teodoro de Croix. This document also marked about

  the last act of the viceroy of direct aid to Alta California, for the management of that province passed out of his hands with the establishment of the commandancy general. Fortunately, however, the supply ships were still left to Buccarelli to handle, and this task he performed ably, as also that of another set of voyages to the northwest coast, to the day of his death in 1779. End of chapter 22

• 23 - Juan Bautista de Anza

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  23. Juan Batista de Anza As already pointed out, at the close of Chapter 18, matters were ripe by the end of the year 1771 for considering the project of opening a land route from Sonora to Alta California. In March 1772, when Bucarelli learned of the discoveries made by Garcés during his journey of exploration of the previous year, he asked Governor Mateo Sastre of Sonora whether he

  thought it might be possible to reach Monterrey by land. Before he had time to carry his inquiries further, he received a petition from the captain of Tubac, Juan Batista de Anza, asking for the viceroy's consent to make such an expedition himself. The author of this petition was one of the most remarkable men who ever appeared on the field of California history, and it is, therefore, worthwhile to pause and take

  account of his early career and his personality. Juan Batista de Anza, like his father and grandfather before him, was a member of the presidial aristocracy of the frontier provinces of New Spain. His grandfather had served 30 years at Llanos as lieutenant and captain, and his father 20 years with the same rank at Fontares, acting also as temporary governor of Sonora at one time. In the latter capacity, he had merited and won general approval, especially

  by breaking up an Indian conspiracy in 1737. In that year, an Indian named Aracivi claimed to be a herald of Montezuma, saying that the former Aztec monarch had come back to life to restore the Mexican empire. Anza's father hanged Aracivi and several of his followers, which ended the revolt. His connection with the Bolas de Plata incident and his death at the hands of the Apaches have already been referred to. The Anza who now makes his bow

  at Fontares in 1735 and entered the service in 1753, taking part thenceforth, as he put it in 1770, in continuous warfare against the Apaches, Seres, Pimas, and Cebu Papas. For the first two years, he was a volunteer at Fontares, serving at his own expense. On July 1, 1755, he became a lieutenant. He is mentioned as taking part in a campaign under Captain Gabriel de Vildosola against the Apaches in 1758. On February 19, 1760,

  he was promoted to the captaincy of the Presidio of Dubac, but owing to the death of Viceroy the appointment was not confirmed. There are references to a campaign by him in 1760 against the Seres and to another of 1766 against the Apaches. One of his principal achievements was the subjecting of the Papagos, a tribe of over 3,000 Indians, on which occasion he killed their chief with his own hand. He had made many campaigns in southern Sonora against

  the Seres and others of the Cerro Prieto, and, according to Rubí, he was the one who contributed most to reducing the Suakis. In the military operations of Elizondo, Anza was a conspicuous figure. In 1770, he petitioned that the full rank of Presidio Captain be accorded him, mentioning some of the salient features of his record, and stating that he had twice been wounded in the service and had participated in fourteen general engagements

  besides a number of lesser ones. Though his petition was endorsed by Juan de Pineda and Domingo Elizondo, his immediate chiefs, and by the Viceroy Cruy, it was not at that time granted. There is an overwhelming array of evidence to the effect that this young man, who had already proved himself a great Indian fighter, was also an officer of unblemished character and unusual abilities. Simple and self-contained in manner and speech, generous

  of spirit, dignified in bearing, he exemplified on his intimately personal side the delightful qualities of the Spanish Cavalier. As an officer, he was kind and just to his men, and prompt and energetic in action. Strong-bodied and courageous, he was also cool-headed, resourceful, self-reliant, and tactful, but above all was a man of initiative and enterprise. Among those who voiced their approval of Captain Anza was the Marquess de Rubi, who recorded

  his opinions at some length in 1767. After recounting Anza's service, Rubi says that, quote, By reason of his activity, valor, zeal, and intelligence, and notable unselfishness, he is an all-around good officer, worthy of being distinguished by His Majesty in remuneration for his services and as a stimulus to others." More directly to the point were Rubi's remarks in praise of Anza as a result of the former's inspection of Tubac. Not only Anza's accounts,

  but also the declarations of the soldiers showed that he had never done anything prejudicial to his troops, but, on the contrary, had always treated them liberally. He had actually reduced prices for them, displaying a generosity which, according to Rubi, was very rare in the frontier provinces. Because of Anza's just administration, many people had come to live at Tubac. To the great advantage of all that section, said Rubi, a fact which might in the future permit

  of transferring the Presidio to a more advanced point, affording greater opportunity for discoveries and for reducing the Apaches. Footnote. At some time before 1763, Anza married the sister of José Manuel Díaz de Carpio, Chaplain of Tubac. No further record of his family life has yet been discovered. In footnote. The discovery of a practicable route to Alta California seems from early boyhood to have been a life ambition with Anza. Spurred on

  by the tradition of his father's proposals, he and another officer planned an expedition to the Colorado in 1756, when Anza was 21. The governor of Sonora at first looked with favor on the project, but subsequently changed his mind. When Galvez came to the province in 1769, Anza asked permission to make an expedition, at his own expense, to cooperate with Portolá whom the Vecitador had just dispatched to the north from Baja California.

  Galvez was impressed by Anza's idea, and meant to have it carried into effect, but was obliged to withhold his consent for the time being, due mainly to the superior pressure of the Seri Wars. Before he could take action, his health failed. Even after his return to Mexico City, he and Croix seemed to have considered the plan, but both of them left the country too early to put it into execution. As soon as it became clear that the Vecitador

  had departed from New Spain without authorizing an expedition, Anza addressed himself to Bucarelli, who had only recently become viceroy. His letter, dated May 2nd, 1772, concerned itself mainly with the numerous evidences for a belief in the existence of a feasible route from Sonora to Monterrey, referring, among other things, to the reports about Portolá and his men, which had come to Garcés and himself from the Indians of the Gila and Colorado.

  He asked permission to make his long-projected expedition of discovery, taking Garcés and twenty or twenty-five of his own presidial soldiers with him. Knowing full well that he could expect suitable reward if successful, he offered to pay the entire costs of the expedition, save only the wages of his men and the salary of Garcés. Bucarelli sought the opinions of various men, including the engineer Costanzo and the fiscal

  Ariichi. These two men, whose recommendations concerning the development of a supply route from Sonora have already been quoted, were strongly in favor of Anza's project. Nevertheless, a junta, which met on October 17th, 1772, was not ready to authorize an expedition. In particular, it desired such further information as Garcés and Governor Sastry could give. Bucarelli acquiesced, and again the matter was postponed. In due time, the desired reports

  were obtained. Garcés enthusiastically backed up Anza's project. Sastry, who had written independently before he had heard of Anza's proposal in favor of a somewhat similar plan, was inclined to throw cold water on the idea as now set forth by the captain of Dubac. Doubtless, no little jealousy was at the basis of his reply. Meanwhile, as already recorded, Father Serra had reached Mexico City in February 1773,

  and it was only natural that Bucarelli should turn to him for advice. Serra's replies, though the viceroy did not see fit to present them to the junta, are worthy of record, for they must have reinforced Bucarelli's own decision. His reports were mainly valuable in pointing out the need for a route to Alta California by land, and especially in that he clearly demonstrated the inadequacy of the Baja California route.

  As for the Anza proposal itself, he had little to say, but believed it would be well worth undertaking. There was yet another factor of undoubted weight with the viceroy, perhaps the greatest of all, and it too was not presented for consideration of the junta. This was the influence of the long-standing fear of foreign danger. At length, a junta was again called, and on September 9, 1773, delivered itself of a resolution

  favoring an expedition on much the same terms as Anza had proposed. Anza was to be empowered to select twenty volunteer soldiers for the journey, and to take Father Garces and another religious with him, meeting all the expenses of the march himself. He was to exercise the greatest care to make friends with Indians he should meet, for it was appreciated that their cooperation would be necessary if the fullest results from the discovery of a route were to be attained.

  He was not to establish any settlement, but was to go direct to Monterrey and back. Four days later, on the 13th, Bucarelli issued a decree putting the resolution of the junta into effect. Theoretically, the assent of the king was still necessary, and it was obtained under date of March 9, 1774. On that day, Anza was already well on the march to Alta California, and by the time the royal pronouncement was received in Mexico, he must have been nearing

  Sonora on his return. Anza wasted no time in making ready for the expedition, though he met with many discouraging setbacks, such as Apache raids in the vicinity of Tubac, and, not least of all, the jealous opposition of some of his fellow officers of the frontier. Meanwhile, his hopes for success were rendered almost certain when he learned that an Indian had just made his way from San Gabriel in Alta California to Altar Sonora. This Indian,

  Sebastián Tarabal by name, had gone to the northern province originally from Baja California, and had been placed at San Gabriel. At length he ran away, hoping to reach the Colorado River and thence go to his old home in the peninsula. His wife and brother, who accompanied him, died of thirst in the Colorado desert, but Tarabal managed to get through, coming to Altar in December 1773. Clearly, therefore, some sort of route existed.

  Tarabal was added to Anza's party in the belief that his services as a guide might be of value. He attached himself to Father Garces and accompanied that intrepid explorer in all his wanderings during the next seven years. On January 8, 1774, Anza set out from Tubac. With him were Father Garces, Father Juan Díaz, 20 volunteers from Miss Presidio, an Alta California soldier named Juan Valdez, Tarabal, a Pima interpreter, and eight other

  Indians, five militeers, two servants of Anza, and a carpenter. 34 at all. 35 packed loads of provisions, 65 head of cattle driven along for food, and 140 horses made up the material equipment at the expedition. The story of the march is told by Bolton in the following terms. Turning southwest, Anza crossed the divide and descended the Altar River through the Pima missions to Altar. Obtaining horseshoe iron, a few fresh horses, some ill-fed mules, stacks of bones,

  he called them, and provisions, on January 22 he made his final start from Caborga, the last Spanish settlement between Sonora and Mission San Gabriel at Los Angeles. To the Gila Colorado Junction, home of the Yumas, the trail, though difficult, had been made familiar by Quino and Garces. On his approach to the junction, Anza heard the discouraging news that a part of the Yumas were hostile and were planning to massacre his party. But the rumors proved unfounded, for the Spaniards

  were warmly welcomed by Chief Balma and a throng of nearly naked Indians. Crossing the Colorado and descending its right bank a few leagues, at Santa Olaya Lake, the expedition neared the edge of the great waste of sand dunes called the Colorado Desert. Here began the real test of Anza's medal. As they neared enemy territory, the Kojak guides misled the Spaniards and then deserted. On the 15th of February, with the Indian Tarabal now guiding, Anza reached the terrible dunes where

  the shifting sands had completely obliterated the trails. Before night, the pack males were so used up that Anza decided that their burdens must be lightened, and he proposed to send half the packs back to Palma's village with part of the soldiers and one friar. Garces subjected and Anza yielded. Encountering now a great mountain of sand which the tired mules could not even attempt, Anza turned south, toward a hill near which Garces thought was the large village of San

  Hocome, which he had visited three years before. But no village could be found. Both Garces and Tarabal were now completely lost in the sea of sand dunes. The animals were played out. Part of the horses had been made ill by eating a noxious herb. There was no near prospect for either water or pasturage. In short, there was nothing for Anza to do but to retreat to Santa Olaya. Even this was most difficult, and before it was accomplished, several horses and mules had died.

  But after 75 miles of wandering, at the cost of six days, Santa Olaya was again reached. Anza now changed his plans. Instead of attempting to cross the dunes, he would turn southwest and go around them. Since it had proved impossible to continue with all his train, he left part of his men in baggage with Palma. Even this step was hazardous, for Palma's friendship had not yet been fully tested. With the rest of his men, the strongest of horses, the ten best mules,

  and provisions for a month, on March 2nd Anza set forth again. Six days of hard riding took him to Good Springs and pasturage near the foot of the Sierra Nevadas. Garces and Tarabal both recognized the locality. The success of the enterprise was now assured, and the event was celebrated. Four more days northward and two north westward took them to a pass in the Sierra Nevada mountains called San Carlos. Here, the site was cheered by a view which repaid all the

  hardships of the journey. There were green plains, snow-capped peaks, live oaks, and rivulets which ran west to find their output in the Philippine Ocean, as Anza called it. In spite of frequent rain and snow, the descent was relatively easy, and at sundown, March 22nd, they reached the mission San Gabriel, after a march of 700 miles from Tubac. Their arrival was hailed by the four surprised missionaries and the small guard with the ringing of the church bells. Anza had found

  a way from Sonora to the sea. Continuing to Monterey and returning over his former route, he reached Tubac on May 26th. It is but natural, perhaps, that, as the discoverer, Anza should describe the route with undue enthusiasm. It was a good route, he said, entirely practicable for the sending of supplies. The Indians were weak in a military way, and the Yumas alone were numerous. Father Dues's report supplied a needed corrective in pointing out that the friendship of the Yumas

  could not be relied upon unless settlements were established among them at an early date. And without their aid, he said, the route could not be utilized at all, except by large forces. The Franciscans in Alta California were delighted over the discovery. As Father Palu put it, various kinds of domestic animals could now be sent from Sonora, and if that were done, the permanence of the new province would be assured.

  Buccarelli was also greatly pleased. He felt that the Anza route was better than the one up the peninsula, though the use of supply ships would still be necessary. He was especially gratified by the cordiality of the Yumas, for he understood the importance of their cooperation, and he was pleased, too, with the way Anza had conducted himself with them, and indeed during the whole period of the expedition.

  At his recommendation, Anza was promoted to a lieutenant colonelcy, and each of his men was granted extra pay for life. And, in very truth, if achievements are to be measured by the results, they were richly deserving of reward, for out of their discovery flowed consequences which decided the course of Alta California history. you

• 24 - The Founding of San Francisco

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  CHAPTER XXIV. THE FOUNDING OF SAN FRANCISCO. Anza's successful march of 1774 was the signal for action on Buccarelli's part to utilize the newly discovered route to the Fall. Before he had an opportunity to do so, however, he set on foot numerous other measures to

  strengthen Alta California within itself and also against the possibility of foreign attack. These plans culminated in his projected occupation of the Port of San Francisco and the two rivers, now called Sacramento and San Joaquin, which for many years the Spaniards termed by the single name of the River of San Francisco. Not only did Buccarelli wish to keep these important strategic points from falling into

  enemy hands, but he thought of using them also as a base for further Northwest conquests. The local situation in Alta California, between Anza's departure from that province in the spring of 1774 and his return at the close of 1775, presented the same features as those already described for the period immediately preceding. Commitments of the Indians, an increase in domestic animals and crops, proceeded at the

  normal rate but were by no means great enough to relieve the needs of the province. A start toward white settlement was indeed made, but it was on too small a scale to change the state of affairs materially. In other words, the province lacked precisely those things which it was designed to furnish by use of the Anza route.

  The beginnings in real colonization just alluded to were provided in connection with the dispatch of Rivera to Monterrey to succeed Fagas as governor. Rivera got together fifty-one persons in Sinaloa, of all ages and both sexes, possibly half a dozen or more families besides a few unmarried men. Crossing to Baja California, he found difficulty in supplying his small expedition, and therefore

  went on ahead himself to Alta California in order to send back provisions. An interesting proof of the inadequacy of the peninsula as a source of supply for the northern province. Rivera had been ordered to cooperate with Anza, but when he got to Monterrey in May 1774, the Sinaloa captain was already nearing his presidio on the return journey.

  On September 26, 1774, the families that Rivera had left behind in Baja California reached San Diego. Thus did the first real settlers come to Alta California, since for the first time white women set foot in the province. Though their whiteness of skin was undoubtedly tinged with Indian red, they were suitable

  wise for a limited number of soldiery, and by their children were able to contribute yet more to the permanence of the colony. As already mentioned, Buccarelli repeatedly gave orders for the exploration and occupation of San Francisco. But it was not until November 1774, when some of the newly arrived colonists got to Monterrey,

  that Rivera felt strong enough in forces to obey the viceroy's commands. Between November 23 and December 13, he made a somewhat perfunctory expedition to the Golden Gate, returning with a perfectly good excuse that the season was too far advanced to do anything toward an eventual settlement owing to the winter rains. In the summer of 1775, Ayala made his thorough exploration of San Francisco Bay.

  Haceta had also been instructed to enter the port on his voyage down from the north, but missed it in the fog. In September 1775, he led a small party overland from Monterrey. Having complied with a letter of this instruction, he at once returned. Nothing had been done, therefore, to pick out a site for settlement, erect buildings,

  or found the two proposed missions. But thanks to Ayala, there was no longer any doubt about the value of the port itself. Meanwhile, preparations were being made under the guidance of a man who could get things done, the intrepid commander of Tubac. Several months after returning to Tubac from his first expedition, Onza made his way to

  Mexico City to report to the viceroy in person. During November and December 1774, he consulted with Buccarelli and plans were drawn up and adopted for a second expedition on a large scale designed to meet the needs of Alta California, especially to put the province on a sound and permanent basis and safeguard it from the danger of foreign attack.

  Onza was to take with him 30 married soldiers and their families, besides 10 more soldiers as his personal escort to Alta California and back. Domestic animals of the kind most needed in the province, notably those for breeding purposes and beasts of burden, were to be driven along. The crowning event of the expedition was to be the founding of two missions at San Francisco,

  for which the married soldiers were to serve as a guard. It was almost a year before Onza's preparations were complete. Meanwhile, Buccarelli was busy with a number of related projects, such as the voyages of 1775 to the northwest coast and the internal problems of the frontier provinces and the two Californias.

  There is no question, however, but that he regarded Onza's expedition as the most important measure of all, as indeed it was. Onza recruited most of his colonists from families submerged in poverty in Sinaloa. Gathering his company at Orfacitas, he proceeded to Tubac, where on October 23, 1775, the whole force got underway.

  The roster of the expedition as it left Tubac is worth quoting. Lieutenant Colonel Onza, one. Fathers Font, Garces, and Exarch, three. The purveyor Mariano Vidal, one. Lieutenant Jose Joaquin Moraga, one.

  Sergeant Juan Pablo Grijalva, one. Veteran soldiers from the Presidios of Sonora, eight. Recruits, twenty. Recruits from Tubac, Onza's escort, ten. Wives of the soldiers, twenty-nine.

  Persons of both sexes belonging to the families of the said thirty soldiers and four other families of colonists, one hundred thirty-six. Muleteers, twenty. Herders of beef cattle, three. Servants of the fathers, four.

  Indian interpreters, three. Total, two hundred forty. Of the thirty soldiers who intended to remain in Alta California, Lieutenant Moraga was the only one unaccompanied by his wife. Onza's care of this mixed assemblage made his expedition one of the most remarkable

  in the annals of exploration. Starting with a party of two hundred forty, he faced the hardships and dangers of the march with such wisdom and courage that he arrived in Alta California with two hundred and forty-four. Footnote.

  Nine persons remained at the Colorado Gila Junction after crossing to the Alta California side. End footnote. No fewer than eight children were born in the course of the expedition, three of them prior to the arrival at Tubac.

  The day of the departure from Tubac, one mother died in childbirth. The only loss of the whole journey. For even the babes and arms survived both the desert and the mountain snows. When one thinks of the scores that lost their lives in the days of forty-nine over these same trails, Onza's skill as a frontiersman stands revealed.

  Furthermore, over a thousand animals were included in the expedition. The loss among these was considerable, but enough of them lived to supply Alta California's long pressing want. A very heavy equipment was taken along, all of it, even the ribbons in the women's hair being provided at government expense.

  Onza had warned the viceroy that it would be necessary not only to do this, but also to pay the men in clothing and outfit instead of cash, since they were habitual gamblers. Of such seemingly unpromising materials were the men who, certainly without their knowledge, were about to play a part in one of the most important acts on the stage of American history. The prices of their outfits are enough to make one sigh for the good old days.

  Petticoats, relatively, were expensive. They cost about $1.50 or 12 reales each, footnote. The real, of which there were eight to a peso, is ordinarily reckoned at six and a quarter cents. Since, however, it has seemed best in this volume to calculate the peso as equivalent

  to a dollar, the real should be counted as 12.5 cents, in footnote. Women's shoes were 75 cents, six reales, and so too women's hats. Each woman got six yards of ribbon at 12 cents a yard. Boys' hats were only 50 cents, four reales a piece, but the girls' hats were the cheapest of all.

  The girls were supposed to require nothing more than the hair of their heads. And so it went. For men, women, and children, clothing of every sort and kind, arms, riding horses, and rations were provided, and all at what now seems to have been an astonishingly low cost.

  One undemocratic note is to be observed. The fare of the 30 families was the plainest, and its estimated cost for the entire expedition amounted to only $1,957. On the other hand, Anza and Fr. Faunt were to have such edibles as beans, sausage, biscuit, fine chocolate, a barrel

  of wine, cheese, pepper, saffron, cloves, cinnamon, oil, and vinegar at a cost of $2,232.50. More than the expense for the 30 families. Anza protested against this allotment when it was proposed, but it may be imagined that his objections were somewhat perfunctory, for the arrangement was entirely in accord with the ideas of the day.

  Footnote. A translation of the document listing the equipment of the expedition is given in Chapman, The Founding of Spanish California, 461-466. In footnote. Reaching the Santa Cruz River to the Gila, Anza went down that stream to its junction

  with the Colorado. This route was much better than the one he had taken through Papagueria in 1774, but though there was plenty of water, fodder was scarce. After a march of 37 days he reached the junction, having been delayed en route by sickness of the expeditionaries, especially on occasions when children were born, for as he put it,

  it was not possible for the mother to ride on horseback for four or five days thereafter. A serious problem presented itself on his arrival at the junction toward the end of November 1775. Anza found that the Colorado had deepened at the place where he crossed in 1774, so that now it was impossible to get over, even though it was the season when the river was

  low. It was also impracticable to use rafts, for the Yumas would have to swim with them in order to guide them, and the water was then too cold. At any rate, not more than one raft a day could be handled, and there was danger that it might be upset.

  The Yumas knew of no other ford. There promised to be a long delay, but Anza himself made a morning search, and found a place where the river divided into three shallow branches. It was necessary to clear away through the thickets, however, for it was impossible to get by them on horseback.

  This done, Anza got his entire expedition across after a wait of but a single day. The stay among the Yumas, who were as demonstratively friendly as they had been the year before, was signalized by a famous gift to Chief Palma which Buccarelli had sent to him in the name of the King. This Indian's devotion to the Spaniards was suitably rewarded, at least in the eyes of

  his tribesmen, when he received a sleeveless cloak of blue cloth lined with gold, a jacket and trousers of chamois skin, two shirts, and a cap with a coat of arms like that of the Spanish dragoons. Palma was greatly pleased, and reiterated the request that he had made in 1774 for the sending of Spanish missionaries.

  Garcés and Exarch remained among the Yumas, but their object was an extended exploration of that vicinity rather than the immediate conversion of the Indians. The three interpreters and four servants of the original roster stayed with them. After a stop of a few days, Anza again went forward, leaving a nearby camp at Santa Olaya on December 9th.

  Profiting by his former experience, he crossed the Colorado desert with comparative ease. He split his forces into three divisions, with orders to march on different days, so that the water holes might have time to refill. The third division, under Moraga, alone met with hardships out of the ordinary. They encountered intense cold.

  Moraga himself suffered severe pains in the head and ears, from which he later became totally deaf. Ahead of them lay the mountains, full of snow to such a degree, said Anza, that we would not have believed so much could be gathered together. To the people of the warm Southland it was indeed a terrifying prospect.

  On December 19th the dread ascent began. For the next eight days, until they had passed the summit and started down the other side, the march was most difficult and depressing. It rained or snowed almost continually, and the weather was extremely cold. One of the women chose this period to be delivered of a child, but after only one day

  of rest the expedition pushed on, though slowly. On the 26th they felt an earthquake shock which lasted four minutes. It was on the next day, however, that they went over the summit of the pass and hope revived as the climate and country grew more and more delightful. Without special incident they now hurried on to San Gabriel, which they reached on January

  4th, 1776. Without knowing it, Anza and his party had very nearly encountered a danger at least as great as any they had actually experienced, a danger which also threatened the very existence of the Spanish settlements in Alta California. The Indians of the San Diego district had always shown a disposition to be unfriendly

  to the Spaniards, though they had early learned to have a wholesome respect for Spanish weapons. When at length the missionaries began to be successful in their efforts, the unconverted Indians in the neighborhood, for there were eleven villages which had steadily resisted Christianity, took alarm. They felt that their native customs were doomed unless they could either annihilate or expel

  the dread invader. Their runners communicated these views to their many kinsmen across the southern end of the province, urging a concerted uprising. Messengers came even to the Yumas, for the San Diego Indians and the many tribes eastward of the Colorado were all members of the same great Yuman family.

  While some promised support and others were sympathetic, the Yumas would not rise against the Spaniards due to the good treatment they had received at the hands of Anza. The reputation Anza had acquired among the Yumas was probably all that saved him from being attacked on his march to San Gabriel. To the childlike savage, the Spaniards of Anza's following were very different from

  those who had settled permanently in Alta California. As he neared San Gabriel, however, Anza had noticed some evidences of native unfriendliness. Meanwhile, the unconverted Indians of San Diego, in collusion with mission converts, had gone ahead with their plans, and at last arranged for a simultaneous attack on the mission in Presidio, which were several miles apart, for the night of November 4, 1775.

  What with missionaries and soldiery, there were twenty-two Spaniards in all, eleven at each place, but four of those at the Presidio were sick, and two others were in the stocks. All were blissfully unaware of the danger, and it seems that no guards were placed. Shortly after midnight, the Spaniards at the mission were aroused by the yells of hundreds of Indians who had already set the building on fire.

  As the little party tried to escape, they were greeted by clouds of arrows. Father Luis Jaime was seized and dragged away, then beaten to death. Later, his body was found, horribly mutilated and pierced by eighteen arrows. The other men took refuge in an adobe storehouse, defending themselves desperately. Not one of them escaped wounds, but they did such execution with their weapons, especially

  one among their number with a suspiciously Irish-sounding name, Corporal Roca, that at daybreak the Indians withdrew. Father Jaime and one other had been killed, and a third man died of his wounds several days later. Fortunately, the plan to attack the Presidio had miscarried, and the men there must have

  slept peacefully through the night, for they were unaware of the conflict which had raged so bitterly only a few miles away. The first they knew of it was when the wounded heroes of the mission fight came the next morning to the Presidio. The Indians hesitated to attack again, and thereby lost their chance of success.

  Soon Ortega came in with a few soldiers whom he had taken with him to found the new mission at San Juan Capistrano. The founding of that mission was postponed, and Ortega's men remained at San Diego. The situation would still have been serious, but for the arrival of Anza from Sonora. Rivera had only seventy men of his own in the province, and these were scattered among

  five missions and two Presidios over a range of more than four hundred miles. The governor hurried south from Monterrey, and had good reason to be glad upon his arrival at San Gabriel when he learned that Anza's expedition was approaching that mission. Anza's orders called for him to proceed to San Francisco without delay and found the settlements, but he recognized that the San Diego revolt was a superior emergency.

  Not only did he lend Rivera twenty of his veterans, but even went the length of waving his superior rank and consenting to accompany Rivera to San Diego and assist him all he could. On January 7, 1776, therefore, the two commanders left San Gabriel with a little force of thirty-five men, not knowing what they might have to encounter.

  It seemed to them not unlikely that San Diego had been wiped out and the garrison massacred, and that they themselves would have to confront thousands of hostile natives. Fortunately, Ortega had been able to tide over the crisis, and their arrival on January 11th definitely saved the situation. At about the same time, two Spanish ships came in from San Blas, and not long afterward,

  Bucureli sent twenty-five more soldiers to Alta California. By this time, the Indians believed that the Spaniards were coming almost from the skies to punish them, and they became afraid. There was no longer any thought of revolt. Indeed, the position of the Spaniards was strengthened by the failure of the San Diego

  outbreak, for the Indians felt from this time forth that it was impossible to throw out their conquerors. The authorities were generally grieved that Onza's arrival had turned the scale. Providential, Bucureli called it, just as if he had come from heaven. Men of that day knew, too, how grave had been the danger.

  Latter-day historians have been altogether too prone to regard the hostility to the Spaniards on the part of the Californian Indians as a matter of small consequence, since no disaster, in fact, ever happened. Its real import appears, however, in the light of such events as the Yuma massacre of 1781, to be taken up in a later chapter.

  As compared with the Yuma uprising, that of the San Diego Indians had much fewer difficulties to encounter. The Yumas were a small tribe of about 2,000, and were close to the Spanish frontier where it was possible to assemble hundreds of soldiers at short notice. On the other hand, the San Diego plot involved untold thousands of Indians being virtually

  a national uprising, and owing to the distance from New Spain and the extreme difficulty of maintaining communications, a victory for the Indians would have ended Spanish settlement in Alta California, and the eventual loser would have been the United States. It soon became apparent that there was no further immediate danger at San Diego, wherefore Onza was eager to carry out the viceroy's orders, which had been given both to him and

  to Rivera, for the founding of settlements at San Francisco. The delatory governor could not be moved, so, after a wait of a month, Onza resolved to proceed without him. Leaving twelve of his troopers with Rivera, he departed for San Gabriel. There he was obliged to dispatch Moraga with ten soldiers in pursuit of five deserting

  militeers who had run away with some of the best horses of the expedition. Onza then set out with a number of the families up the coast, and after a march of nearly three weeks through driving rains, reached Monterrey on March 10th. Moraga, who had successfully apprehended the deserters, came up later with the remainder of the families and their equipment.

  While he was at Monterrey, Onza became very sick, and nothing the doctor could do seemed able to relieve his pain. At length, Onza determined to apply some remedy of his own, and this proved to be helpful, but he was far from well when he announced that he would wait no longer and would go at once to explore the site of San Francisco.

  Taking only a few men with him, and leaving the families at Monterrey, he set out for San Francisco on March 23rd. Upon arrival, he made a thorough going survey, finding water, firewood, and timber, and marking out the places for the later establishments. For a presidio, he picked a site with the Spaniards called the Cantil Blanco, or White

  Cliff, near where Fort Scott now stands. He selected a place for the mission along a little rivulet, which he named Dolores, throes of childbirth of the Virgin Mary. So called because that was the name of the day he visited it in the religious calendar March 29th.

  This was the origin of the name which eventually superseded the one the Spaniards first applied to designate the mission. Though rarely given to enthusiastic comment, Onza had now seen enough of San Francisco to speak of it in the famous port in terms of warmest praise. Fr.

  Font was even more expressive of delight. "'The Port of San Francisco is a marvel of nature,' he said, and may be called the Port of Ports." Onza had also been instructed to explore the river of San Francisco beyond the point reached by Fagas in 1772.

  Accordingly, he marched around the lower end of the bay, and proceeded up the eastern shore to the junction of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, and southward up the latter to a considerable distance beyond the place Fagas had visited. From a hill, he clearly discerned that the two rivers had widely separate courses, but was unable to determine the secrets of the great valley which they traversed.

  Indeed, Font later recorded his belief that for the most part the valley was a great lake studded with islands. Instead of following the route by which he had come, Onza plunged boldly into the hills and emerged near the present Gilroy Hot Springs, once he made an easy march to Monterey, arriving there on April 8th.

  The time had now come for Onza's departure. He had fulfilled the orders of the Viceroy insofar as he could without the cooperation of Rivera, though for the lack of it he had not been able to establish the settlements at San Francisco. Indeed, prior to Onza's exploration of that port, Rivera had sent orders for the colonists

  to erect houses for themselves at Monterey, and to abandon the projected foundations at San Francisco for that reason. Onza was disappointed, but felt that he could not undertake the work by himself, since Rivera, after all, was governor of the province. So he decided to take his leave.

  On April 14th he departed from Monterey to the accompaniment of the tears and lamentations of the settlers who had learned to revere and love him in the course of their long march from Sonora. The next day Onza received a letter from Rivera, whose party was then approaching Onza's on the way up from San Diego.

  In this missive, Rivera answered a much earlier letter from Onza and announced abruptly that he would not join him in making the establishments at San Francisco. The messenger told Onza that Rivera was in an evil temper and would not even look at a letter which Onza had just sent to him. A little later the two parties met.

  Both leaders saluted, and then, without a word, Rivera put spurs to his horse and rode on. Not long afterward, Rivera sent word to Onza that he was returning and asked him to wait for him at San Luis Obispo, so that they might have a conference over the various matters which had been entrusted to them.

  Onza consented and waited. Two days later he received word from Rivera postponing the interview until they should reach San Gabriel. Even the patience of a saint might well have been exhausted by this time, yet Onza agreed to communicate with Rivera, but insisted that it should be in writing.

  Accordingly, during two days at San Gabriel they wrote letters back and forth. Afterward, Onza and his escort started back over the trail to Sonora. Crossing the Colorado, the great explorer looked upon Alta California for the last time. Though he did not even suspect it himself, his work, under the guidance of the great was to have an enduring importance beyond anything that had ever happened in the history

  of the Californias. Something yet remained to be accomplished, however, and it fell to the lot of Onza's capable lieutenant, Jose Joaquin Moraga, to do it. With the departure of Onza, Rivera suddenly changed his mind about setting up the establishments at San Francisco, spurred on no doubt by the further peremptory orders of the viceroy received

  it about that time. He therefore sent word from San Diego, whither he had gone, for Moraga to proceed to San Francisco and erect a fort. Moraga got together his families of soldier settlers, and, accompanied by Fathers Palu and Cambon, marched to San Francisco, arriving on June 27th.

  Only a few days later there occurred, on the opposite coast of North America, the first of July in United States history, when national independence was proclaimed. At the same time, Moraga and his men, quietly preparing their habitations, were taking an all-important step in the eventual acquisition of the Pacific coast by the descendants of the embattled farmers of the thirteen Atlantic colonies.

  On September 17th, the Presidio was formally dedicated, and October 9th there was another solemn function, signalizing the founding of the mission of San Francisco de Asis. In January 1777, the second mission was established, this time at Santa Clara, near the present city of San Jose. Thus had the great port been occupied, and the vitally needed settlers, with their equally

  needed herds of domestic animals, were now in Alta California to stay. For the first time, it was possible to say that the province had been placed on a permanent basis. There was no longer any likelihood that it would be abandoned and left open to another power.

  Two men had contributed more than any others to bring this about. One of them was the gallant ex-captain of Duboc. As the successful leader of the first party of settlers to the coast, says a recent historian, Anza's position is unique. Only a man of splendid ability and courage and sublime self-confidence could have sustained

  the fainting hearts of the timid women and children, encouraged them to endure the privations of the desert, or to face the terrors they thought they saw in the snow-covered summits of the San Jacinto mountains, and the still greater terrors their fancies pictured in the far northern country to which they were going. We may find here and there a figure among the half-forgotten heroes who led their straggling

  immigrants across the plains and through the mountains after 1842 that deserves to rank with him, but we shall look in vain for any in the Spanish history of the coast, unless we turn back to that of Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo with his broken arm, holding his scurvy-stricken sailors to the work of examining the wintry coast southward from Cape Mendocino to his grave in Santa Barbara Islands, and with his latest breath admonishing his successor not

  to give up the work. Yet back of Anza was that other great figure, Antonio Buccarelli. The Anza expeditions had formed only the most important links in the chain of the viceroy's plans. He contemplated yet other action which would have developed Alta California still further and might have saved it for Hispanic America, though not for Spain, as surely as his achievements down

  to 1776 had prevented its eventual conquest by England. Fortunately for the United States, his hand was removed from the control of frontier affairs late in 1776, just when he was ready to go ahead. Thus, the year 1776 marked the culminating point in the Spanish conquest of Alta California. It remains to explain just why the opportunity created by Buccarelli was lost.

  End of chapter 24

• 25 - The Commandancy General of the Frontier Provinces

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  CHAPTER XXV. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. CHAPTER XXV. THE COMMANDANCI GENERAL OF THE FRONTIER PROVENCES. By 1776 the northwest coasts had been explored, all to California placed on a permanent, though not very strong, basis by the success of Anza's second expedition and the founding of San Francisco. The Colorado Gila region had become well-known, Sinaloa had achieved a well-settled

  state, and Sonora seemed likely soon to do so. In that year, too, expeditions of Father Garces and of Fathers Dominguez and Vélez de Escalante had contributed, negatively at least, to the solution of Spain's problems in the northwest conquest. Garces had accompanied Anza to the junction of the Colorado and Gila, where he was to prepare the Yumas and other Indians in neighboring districts for the coming of missionaries and subjection to the Spanish

  ground. The first project of this indefatigable explorer was to visit the Indian tribes of the lower Colorado. This he did, descending the river to its mouth. Returning to the junction, he soon started north, up the Colorado, accompanied, as usual, by the Indian Tarabal. It then occurred to him that he might possibly find a better route to Monterey than the one across the Colorado desert. But, being unable to procure guides, he struck off instead toward

  San Gabriel. Going along the Mojave River and through the Cajon Pass, he was the first white man to traverse the route now followed by the Santa Fe Railroad. He remained at San Gabriel from March 24th to April 9th, 1776, when he made a fresh attempt to reach Monterey by an interior route. Proceeding through Tejon Pass to the vicinity of Bakersfield, he went on nearly to Tulare Lake. Here he turned back, and made for the Colorado at the point where

  he had left it, going probably through Tehachapi Pass. Once again, he was blazing the trail for the Santa Fe, but he did not stop at the Colorado. Instead, he resolved to attempt another of his favorite projects, to reach Moki from the west. By July 2nd, this tireless explorer had accomplished his object. As others had reached Moki from the New Mexico side, this proved the existence of a route from Santa Fe to Monterey. Clearly, however, the

  route was too long and difficult to compete in usefulness with the one Anza had discovered. Retracing his steps, Garces reached his mission of Bak on September 17th. At about the same time, Francisco Dominguez and Silvestre Vélez de Escalante, two Franciscans of New Mexico, headed a party which went northwest from Santa Fe in the hope of finding the much-desired better route to Monterey. Leaving on July 29th, 1776, they at length reached northern

  Utah, whence they turned northwest. Finding no indication of a route, or no tradition of one among the natives, they returned to Santa Fe, arriving on January 2nd, 1777. Unquestionably, therefore, the Spanish line of effort lay along the Anza route, and centered strategically at the junction of the two great rivers, though some hopes were still entertained that a good route might be found from Santa Fe. The route from Sonora to the Alta California

  coast had its share of geographical difficulties, including the Colorado desert, but Anza had amply proved that they were not insurmountable. By far, the most serious obstacle was the Colorado River, the passage of which was inextricably interwoven with what was, after all, the principal consideration in Spanish journeying between Sonora and Alta California, the relations of the Spaniards with the Yumas. Anza's search for a ford in 1775 has already been related.

  The problem of the Colorado was even better illustrated by the incidents occurring at the time of his return in 1776. This time he got to the river in June, when the Colorado was high and swift. Though he now had but ten soldiers with him, with few effects, it took him two full days and parts of two others to get across, despite the fact that he had rafts at his disposal and the assistance of several hundred expert Yuma swimmers. Commenting

  upon this, Anza wrote in his official diary, quote, On another occasion I have said that if the peoples who dwell along this great river are attached to us, we shall affect its passage without excessive labor, and that if they are not, it will be almost impossible to do so, end quote. Thus Anza, if indeed he continued to overestimate the constancy of Yuma friendship, made it perfectly clear that a good disposition of the Yumas toward

  the Spaniards was a prerequisite to any effective use of the route. Buccarelli grasped this fact and probably understood the Indian situation better than Anza himself. There was a need for haste before the ardor of the Yuma should cool. In season and out, Father Garcés had been recommending the establishment of presidios and missions not only at the junction of the Colorado and Gila, but also at various other sites along the Gila. In March 1775, in conjunction

  with Father Diaz, he prepared a long memorial in favor of this plan, pointing out that it could be put into effect at slight cost through a judicious shifting of procedural forces. Among the advantages, in addition to the temporal and spiritual conquest of the Gila country, were the prospects afforded of providing an effective defense on the Sonora frontier against the Apaches, protecting the Anza route to Monterrey, and developing a base for the discovery

  of new routes to both Alta California and New Mexico. Hugo O'Connor, commandant inspector and virtual ruler under Buccarelli of the entire frontier, favored the project and recommended the adoption of Garcés's suggestion to suppress the presidios of Jorcasitas and Buenavista in southern Sonora, where at the time there was little to do, and transfer them to the Gila in Colorado. Other leading officials gave similar opinions, and Buccarelli himself was impressed

  by the plan. He therefore procured authority from Spain to go ahead with it at the proper season, but meanwhile awaited the outcome of the second Anza expedition. Upon his return from Alta California in 1776, Anza proceeded to Mexico City, taking with him Salvador Palma and several other Yuma chieftains. During their stay at the capital, many attentions and honors were heaped upon these savages from the north, and they in turn begged earnestly for the

  establishment of missions among them. This was the time, if any, to strike. The imperative necessity was well expressed by Father Garcés. I am of the opinion, he said, that if the matter of missions on the Gila and Colorado is allowed to cool, there is a danger that all will be lost, and that the Yuma's may be the first to enter a league. Buccarelli was prepared to act at once, for he held the same views, and expressed himself to that effect on various occasions. Just at the vital

  moment his hand was withstayed, for late in 1776 the new government of the frontier provinces was created, apart from the viceroyalty, and independent of his control. In January 1776, Julian de Arriaga died, and his place as Minister General of the Indies was shortly afterward granted to José de Galvez, now become the Marqués de Senora. Galvez set about at once to erect the commandancy general of the frontier provinces which he himself had planned in 1768. The entire

  frontier, including the salience of the Californias, New Mexico, and Texas, was comprised in the new government, which was to be independent of the viceroy. As might have been expected of Galvez, the whole document establishing this change displayed marked interest in the Californias, of the strategic importance of which the minister general was fully aware. Indeed, a continuance of the north-westward advance was almost the basic idea of the document.

  The capital was to be at Arispe Senora, because that post lay midway between Nueva Vizcaya and the Californias, though far to the west of the geographical center of the new commandancy. The preservation, development, and advancement of Alta California were specifically alluded to as important in the service of God and the King. Wherefore, the commandant general was ordered to visit that province as soon as possible and to secure its line of communications with Senora.

  Orders were also given to send more settlers and cattle there, and anything else that might be needed to aid in its development and protection. It is worthy of comment that the Pacific province alone received extended notice in the royal decree. Whole paragraphs dealt with Alta California, while not a line referred exclusively to Nueva Vizcaya and the provinces of the east. Furthermore, in later decrees, Galvez repeatedly ordered the commandant general to give his

  attention to the Californias. Of such a tenor was his letter on March 6, 1779, in which he said, His majesty orders me to reiterate to your excellency the charge that you view those establishments, the Californias, but more particularly Alta California, with a preference and attention which their importance merits. Since San Blas lay well within the viceroyalty, Galvez called upon Bucarelli to continue his handling of the supply ships,

  for the minister general realized that their services to the Californias could not yet be dispensed with. The decree just described was dated August 22, 1776, but it was not until the following January that it was possible to put it into effect. The plan itself was commendable and in line with the needs of the situation, but it necessarily meant the postponement of action which Bucarelli was about to take, since he no longer had jurisdiction. All would have been well if

  Galvez had made a wise selection for the post of commandant general. He chose to appoint one of his own satellites, who neither at the time nor thereafter grasped the importance of the movement which Galvez himself had started and Bucarelli carried on. The full effect of their efforts was to be lost through the mistakes of Galvez's appointee. Teodoro de Croix, the first commandant general, was a nephew of the Marquès de Croix, the former viceroy. He had been employed by

  Galvez during the latter's residence in New Spain, and seems to have displayed some ability in his capacity as a subordinate carrying out specific orders. His competence was to show forth in somewhat similar fashion in his management of the frontier. The affairs of Texas, which province he visited in person at the outset of his administration, he took care of with considerable skill. In later life, too, he seems to have been a moderately successful viceroy of Peru at a time

  when there were few grave problems to solve. Nevertheless, there seems to be little, if any, reason to modify the following characterization made of him in a recent work. Serious-minded and industrious he certainly was, as is attested by the many voluminous, well-ordered reports that he made on the state of the frontier provinces, and also by the very tone of his letters. As a first assistant to somebody else,

  or even as ruler in a realm where there were no serious difficulties to encounter, he would have been a marked success. But as a leader in the frontier provinces of New Spain, he lacked the broad vision to compass the whole range of his duties. While working hard to settle one problem, he was apt to let the others take care of themselves, or try to have somebody else handle them, certainly as regards matters affecting north-westward advance. In fine,

  Croy was a hard-working, painstaking, well-meaning, but rather stupid man. Far from observing Galvez's commands to visit Sonora and Alta California as soon as he could, Croy devoted himself to other things. Reaching Mexico City in January 1777, he remained there until August, getting information about his new government and forming his plans. As might have been expected from a man of his caliber,

  he felt it incumbent upon him to devise something which would differentiate his policies from those of Hugo O'Connor and the viceroy. The former prepared a long report for Croy in 245 paragraphs, giving an account of his own work as commandant inspector since his appointment in 1771, and making a number of general recommendations. In particular, he urged that the procedios of Jorcasitas and Buena Vista be transferred to the Colorado and Gila rivers, as Bucarelli had

  ordered, and that the route to Alta California be kept open. He also made suggestions about fighting the Apaches which showed his own understanding of the unity of the frontier. Croy paid small heed to this advice. With the removal of a strong guiding hand from frontier affairs, Indian uprisings began to occur in Sonora during Croy's long residence in Mexico City, though they were by no means more serious character than O'Connor and Bucarelli had

  been wont to cope with successfully. Croy at once cast into discard the plan looking forward toward securing the Northwest conquest. The removal of the two procedios to the Gila and Colorado rivers was abandoned, entailing also a postponement in establishing the missions for which the Yuma's were clamoring. Anza, who had been appointed governor of New Mexico with a view to the explorations of new routes to Monterrey, was detained by Croy and sent to

  Sonora to suppress the Ceres. Furthermore, Croy made impossible demands on Bucarelli for two thousand troops, and failing that, for the means with which to raise a thousand. His own tendency to dodge responsibility appears in one of his letters to Galvis, in which he said that he certainly was not going to Sonora until he could have soldiers enough to overcome the evils from which that province was suffering.

  Yet, he said, he regarded the affairs of Sonora as his most important consideration, but precisely on that account he was going to Coahuila and Texas first. His explanation that this would permit his remaining in Sonora, once he arrived there, sounds rather lame in the light of his harrowing description of the existing situation. Not only did Bucarelli have no authority to grant Croy such reinforcements as he asked for,

  but it was incomprehensible that the commandant general should have expected them. The total number of troops in the frontier provinces was only about two thousand, and the addition of even a few hundreds would have been a matter for debate by the authorities in Spain, owing to the increase in expense it would involve. Bucarelli did give Croy two companies of cavalry, but declined to grant him any more. Croy therefore complained to Galvis, but the

  minister general inevitably sustained the viceroy. When Croy should obtain personal knowledge of the state of the frontier provinces, Galvis wrote to him, the king would determine how many soldiers were necessary. The implied rebuke struck home, and the question of reinforcements was dropped. In August 1777, Croy at length left Mexico City. Going by way of Queretaro and Durango, he proceeded to Cojila and Texas. By March 1778, he had recrossed the Rio Grande and reached

  Chihuahua and Nueva Vizcaya. There, or in that vicinity, he remained for more than a year and a half. Not until November 1779 did he reach Sonora, and he never visited the Californias, or even the region of the Gila and the Colorado. Not only had he failed to carry out Galvis's orders, but he had also become absorbed in the affairs of the northeastern frontier, which alone he knew, giving attention to the west so far as it bore upon the problem of Apache wars,

  but not much otherwise. Meanwhile, what of Sonora, the Californias, and the security of the Anza route? Sonora itself had suffered little, if at all, from Croy's neglect. Anza reached Orcasitas in May 1777, and handled the situation with his customary energy and ability. He found the Ceres in Rebellion, and several other tribes on the verge of revolt. He put down the Ceres, and then the others decided to keep the peace.

  Apache incursion still took place, but he had not been expected to overcome that perennial evil. It is worthy of note, in the light of Croy's later bad treatment of Anza, that the Commandant General referred to Anza's work in terms of the highest praise. In March 1778, the internal difficulties of Sonora were sufficiently well in hand so that Anza was able to join Croy at Chihuahua, once he proceeded to his government in New Mexico.

  Arrived in New Mexico, he inflicted a decisive defeat on the Comanches, the most troublesome Indians of that province. In this battle, which occurred in 1779, the Comanche Chieftain was killed. He was given no opportunity, however, to carry on the discoveries toward Alta California, which Bucarelli had intended he should make. The Californias suffered irreparable harm through Croy's failure to make use of the Anza route,

  but in other respects the local situation was well handled, in spite of Croy's neglect. As already mentioned, Bucarelli had given orders, late in 1776, providing for the needs of Alta California. Fortunately, too, there was a man on the ground who was able to carry out the Viceroy's plans and to act on his own initiative when occasioned called. This was Felipe de Neve, greatest of the Spanish governors of Alta California. As he came to the province from Baja

  California, he was able to inspect most of the territory under his command on his way to Monterey, which he reached in February 1777. He soon made a trip to San Francisco, and thus, at the outset, acquired personal information of the whole range of his government. Having satisfied himself as to the needs of the province, he lost no time in communicating his views to Bucarelli, for he had not yet heard of the establishment of the commandancy general.

  Prior to Neve's arrival, the mission of San Juan Capistrano had been founded, November 1776, and that of Santa Clara in January 1777. Neve proposed the addition of three more missions along the Santa Barbara Channel, together with a presidio. He also wished to form civilian settlements, Pueblos, on the Santa Ana, San Gabriel, and Guadalupe Rivers, and to increase the forces at San Diego, Monterey, and San Francisco. For these purposes,

  he wanted fifty-seven fully equipped soldiers, who should be recruited in Sinaloa, and should bring their families with them, and sixty families of laborers, including artisans of various kinds. He also went into detail as to the equipment these recruits should have, and the number and kinds of domestic animals to be procured in Sonora, that it would be desirable to send with them. Upon receipt of Neve's suggestion, together with letters from Rivera

  and Serra, Bucarelli sent the correspondents to Croy. Croy was at that time preparing to leave Mexico City for the north, and so returned the file to Bucarelli with a request that he attend to the matter. This called forth a noteworthy reply from the Viceroy, dated August 27, 1777. It was not in the power of either Croy or himself, he reminded the former, to change royal orders at will. Hence, since the Californias were in Croy's jurisdiction,

  he was sending back the papers. He went on, however, to give Croy information about the Californias, and tell him what he himself would do if still in charge. Neve's suggestion should be adopted, even though they involved additional troops and more expense, for these matters, in Bucarelli's opinion, should take precedence of others in Croy's jurisdiction. There should be additional missions, too, in both Californias and along the Colorado and Gila rivers, so that

  there might be no gaps in the chain of communication with Sonora. Thus did Bucarelli reiterate the opinions he had long held about the importance of the Californias and the Anza route. Had a matter lain within his jurisdiction, he would, almost certainly, already have taken the action which he now recommended to Croy. But under the circumstances, he was powerless to do anything. His zeal for the royal service and his magnanimity were also most creditably displayed in the advice

  that he gave, and in the courteous manner that he offered it. Unwilling to take immediate action on Bucarelli's suggestions, Croy referred the matter to three Sonora officers, and then hide himself off to Texas. Not until September 1778 did he get around to consider Neve's proposals again. In a letter to Galvez about the matter, he was petulant and lacking in sympathy with the subject. He complained of Bucarelli's refusal to handle the Californias for him, but did not account

  for his own failure to adopt the suggestions of the viceroy. Anyway, he said, the more he read about the Californias, the greater was his own confusion of mind with respect to their affairs. Nevertheless, he had decided to approve Neve's projects, but he would wait until he got to Sonora before attending to them. So here was another matter that Croy had put off. But Felipe de Neve was not a man to do nothing while awaiting official authorization.

  So far as his resources would permit, he proceeded to put into effect the measures he deemed important. Croy's one merit in the management of the Californias lay in the fact that he approved of anything that the governor actually got done. In November 1777, Neve founded a settlement on the Guadalupe. Acting on his own initiative, without any mandate from Croy, he took 15 families from Monterrey and San Francisco and made a beginning of the pueblo which has since developed

  into the city of San Jose. He also started in to prepare a new reglamento for the Californias, basing his action on an order issued to Bucarelli several years before by Julian de Arriaga. In a long report to Croy, Neve pointed out that Alta California soldiers were in fact receiving only 40% of the salary theoretically allotted them. Furthermore, they were being paid wholly in clothing, effects, and provisions at an advance to allow for costs of carriage of 150%

  beyond the prices charged in Mexico City. Thus, they were getting some 16% of what their full salary would have purchased in the capital of the viceroyalty. The situation was rendered yet worse because the execution of the existing reglamento was even more defective than the law itself. Naturally, service in the province was not popular. Indeed, it was asking a great deal of these men merely to live in this far distant locality, away from the activities to which they

  had become accustomed in the regions from which they had come. Neve urged that his troops be given the same pay as the soldiers of other frontier provinces and that some of it be in cash. Under those circumstances, he believed, the men would be contented and others would be induced to come. Neve's memorial, making these and indeed many other suggestions, crossed a letter from Croy asking him to draw up a reglamento. The governor therefore prepared the famous document,

  which is usually called by his name, completing it on June 1, 1779. In this, he embodied the provisions of his earlier memorial to Croy, and in his remitting letter announced, characteristically, that he was putting his reglamento immediately into effect, subject to such later changes as Croy might make. The Neve instrument was eventually approved and was henceforth employed, together with the earlier documents already mentioned, as the administrative basis for the

  government of the province during the remainder of the Spanish era. Meanwhile, Bucarelli's influence had not been entirely removed from the Californias and San Blas. In 1776, prior to the establishment of the commandancy general and before Bucarelli seems to have known that it was contemplated, news came from Spain of English preparations to send out Captain James Cook on the third of his now well-known voyages to the Pacific. According to Spanish information, he was planning to visit

  the Californias with a view to opening up trade relations, and was intent also on the discovery of a sea route between the Atlantic and the Pacific by what the English called the Northwest Passage, making an attempt for the first time, so far as the English were concerned, to accomplish this aim by sailing from west to east. The Viceroy was ordered to take such precautions as might cause Cook to fail. Bucarelli's reply, dated June 26, 1776,

  is one of the most important documents in the history of Spain's efforts along the Northwest Coast. It is also almost identical in spirit with his already mentioned letter of July 1773, notably in its lack of alarm, if also in its readiness, nevertheless, to take appropriate action. The remarkable activities of the Viceroy against possible foreign danger since 1773 have already been indicated. In all probability, he would have displayed a like energy and

  resourcefulness to forestall this new peril. Almost surely he would have strengthened the Californias by developing the land route thereto, but under the circumstances he had no authority to do so. By special enactment of the decree providing for the Comandante General, the management of the supply ships had been left within the jurisdiction of the Viceroy. This difficult problem Bucarelli continued to handle with success during the remainder of his

  term. He was also ordered to take charge of a fresh series of voyages to the Northwest Coast. Overcoming such handicaps as those already mentioned in dealing with the affairs of San Blas, he equipped two ships which set sail from San Blas in February 1779. Ignacio Artiega and Juan de la Bodega, in command of these vessels, made a careful exploration of the Alaska coast and found neither Russians nor Englishmen, though there was in fact a Russian settlement

  on Cadillac Island which they barely missed. Upon their return, a royal order was issued in 1780, calling for a discontinuance of such voyages. Meanwhile, the great Viceroy, Antonio Bucarelli, had answered the last call. On October 9, 1779, after fourteen years of service to the colonies, he died, still in harness and far away from his beloved Spain, to which for many years he had wished in vain to return. To the end, his career had been one of solid achievement with respect to

  those matters that had been left in his charge. For the Californias, he had been unable to do much after 1776, but he had already accomplished enough to entitle himself to lasting remembrance on the part of the Californians. He had saved Alta California from abandonment, and in so doing, quite unknown to himself to be sure, he had preserved that province and the Pacific coast for the ultimate occupation of the United States. The inevitable further result of his policies,

  if he had been empowered to carry them out to the full, would have been to keep Alta California, at least, for the peoples of Hispanic race. Thus it is that if he helped the United States at, very likely, the expense of England, he was in no wise at fault before his own people for the failure to add yet another great area to the future domination of the Republican Hispanic America. Mexicans remember Bucureli, not indeed for his exploits in connection with Alta California,

  but for his high character and his achievements affecting regions now within the area of the Southern Republic. An important thoroughfare in the Mexican capital bears his name. A far greater consequence is the fact that he was buried in the Sacred Church of Guadalupe, where he has a tablet commemorating his work. This place is to Mexicans, all that Mecca is to Mohammedans, or Jerusalem to Christians in general. As many as 100,000 pilgrims have been

  known to visit it on a single day. In this great shrine, which associates itself with Mexican nationalism, with the Indians who resisted Cortez and the Patriots who at length won independence, the grave of Bucureli is the sole reminder of Spanish domination. Truly, the memory of Bucureli will never be erased from the heart of Mexicans. Thus, as one of the greatest and best of the viceroys found a worthy resting place.

  And to Californians, the Church of Guadalupe should have a new significance. End of chapter 25

• 26 - The Yuma Massacre

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  CHAPTER XXVI. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. CHAPTER XXVI. THE YUMMA MASSACRE. Teodoro de Croix's neglect to go ahead with the project for establishing settlements on the Gila and Colorado, which Buccarelli had planned, is not to be ascribed to indolence. First of all, it was due to an imperfect understanding of the situation, wherefore he was more impressed

  by another plan of his own devising. He felt that it would be quite a feather in his cap if he could bring an end to the Indian Wars, and in particular, reduce the Apaches. Therefore, he proposed to inaugurate a general campaign, making use of friendly Indians as well as all available Spanish soldiery in the achievement of his ends. In the light of this grandiose scheme, the smaller undertakings, which Buccarelli had favored, were either lost sight of by the

  commandant general or else reduced to insignificant proportions. Croix's policy was to be yet another instance of the old, old story of the man who is dazzled by the brilliancy of his own conceptions, but who misses essential details and leaves behind him a record of failure. As early as July 1777, Croix dropped the plan for settlements along two rivers and decided instead merely to send Garcés and another religious to the Yumas. That, he believed, would be enough for the time being,

  since Chief Palma and the Yuma fighting men would have to join in Croix's general campaign against the Apaches. Furthermore, he felt that it would be a waste of money to found missions along the Gila, since the warriors would be absent and the old men, women, and children, who alone would remain during the course of the war, would be little inclined to conversion. No precise date was set when Garcés should found the proposed mission among the Yumas. Indeed,

  it was several years before Croix got around to give the matter a modicum of his attention. When at length he did interest himself, he seemed to be more concerned with making a record for economy than with the security of the settlements themselves. Meanwhile, Croix failed to grasp the significance of a principle which he himself had subscribed to when it was expressed to him by Father Juan Morphy, one of his principal advisors. In making an argument against such undertakings as

  the Dominguez-Velez de Escalante expedition, Morphy had pointed out that missionaries were accustomed to tell the Indians of the wealth of the king and to make offers of Spanish friendship. The Indians could not comprehend the descriptions of Spanish cities, since they had never seen any, and when nothing came of the promised gifts and friendship, they were apt to bethink themselves of these ragged, half-starved missionaries who had told them of these tales, and serious

  consequences were likely to occur. Neither Croix nor Morphy seems to have applied this generalization to the case of the Yumas, though it exactly fitted the facts. The Yumas could not understand the long delay in sending them missionaries. To their simple, childlike minds, the introduction of Christianity meant gifts of trinkets and tobacco, such as they had received from Anza, and they were at first disappointed and later resentful when the expected

  boon did not come. Chief Palma, the Spaniard's friend, began to lose influence among them, and repeatedly requested the authorities in Sonora to hasten the plans for the missions. In 1778, he himself went twice to the Presidio of Altar to urge the matter. It was as a result of Palma's solicitations that Croix, who had not yet reached Sonora, decided at length in 1779 to act. In February, he issued orders for Garcés and another missionary

  to go to the junction and establish a mission among the Yumas. Garcés requested a military escort of at least twelve soldiers who should be married men and should take along their wives, thus reducing the likelihood of trouble with the Yumas through the rough attentions which otherwise the soldiers would pay to the Indian women. Garcés also emphasized the importance of providing a liberal quantity of gifts for the Yumas, of non-interference with their lands and crops, and of sending a

  number of well-supplied and well-equipped permanent settlers. The governor of Sonora acceded in principle to most of Garcés' requests, but would not permit the soldiers' wives to go lest the Indian men covet them, and he left it to Croix to decide about the settlers. Moreover, he in any event had scant funds at his disposal even for the small party which was to accompany Garcés at the outset. Croix presently changed his mind and sent orders to hold back

  the expedition. Before they were received in Sonora, however, Garcés had already departed. In May, the sum of 2,000 pesos had been advanced to Father Juan Diaz, who had been selected to accompany Garcés. With a purchase of presents for the Indians, mules, and certain necessary equipment, this fund was soon exhausted. In August, the two friars and their little army of twelve men started, intending to go by way of papageria to the junction. The rainfall that year had been so

  slight that the route proved unusually difficult. Garcés decided, therefore, to take two soldiers and push on, leaving the rest of his force at Sanoita. In due time he reached the junction, but arrived with his provisions very nearly exhausted and without the supply of gifts for the chiefs, which was almost a prerequisite for the establishment of friendly relations. As it was the season for planting, the humas were much scattered, so that in any event he could not

  proceed with the establishment of the mission. In letters of September 2nd to Governor Corbalán and to Croix, he pointed out his wretched plight and asked for a grant of 300 pesos to be devoted principally to gifts for the Indians, such as beads, shoes, and cloth. This was a second this was essential to success. Funds were also absolutely required for the building of houses and payment of interpreters. A month later, on October 2nd,

  Bias came up with the rest of the soldiers. By this time Garcés had gained a clear understanding of the difficulties of his situation. The humas did indeed want to be converted, but it was only because they believed it meant all manner of presents for them from the Spaniards. Other tribes in the vicinity were equally clamorous for that type of material Christianity and were not a little jealous of the preference shown to the humas. To bring the humas in truth

  under the dominion of the church was going to be a much harder task than it had seemed in the days of the Ansa expedition. Garcés now realized, too, that Chief Palma had no real authority over the humas. He was only one of the many chiefs and neither he nor any of the others had any power except insofar as the Indians wished to obey them. To add to Garcés' difficulties, he found that the humas were eager to go to war with their neighbors. It required all the arts of persuasion

  in the gift of Chief Palma to keep them from doing so. The conflict was avoided, but the desire for it remained. Garcés now felt that it would be impossible to maintain the Spanish settlement as it was then. Writing to Croix in November, he urged that a second mission be founded and more settlers sent. He also pointed out the need for establishments among other tribes so that the Spaniards at the junction might have recourse to them in case of danger.

  In particular, he favored the founding of missions along the Gila, supported by a strong military escort to ward off the Apaches, since the Gila route was much better than the one through Papagueria. With the addition of more troops, carefully selected from the standpoint of good character and the grant of some further financial aid, all would turn out well as the land itself was suitable for grazing and agriculture. Garcés's situation at the junction grew

  steadily worse. Corbulán refused him the 300 pesos he had asked for, without which Garcés was unable to make a decent pretense of effective missionary work. Garcés and Díaz agreed, therefore, that the latter should go to Sonora and explain in person to the Commandant General the critical condition of the settlement. Yet the spirit of Garcés was as strong as ever. In a letter of December 27th to Croy, he rejoiced that the decision to suspend the Colorado Gila

  establishment had not reached Sonora in time. The greater part of the next year was to pass before the aid which Garcés had requested was to reach the junction. How the intrepid friar and his small body of soldiery held on is a mystery, but hold on, they did. Garcés was certainly not going to risk the failure of a project to which he had devoted the best years of his life. Father Díaz reached Arispe in February 1780 and presented his petitions

  to Croy, who had by this time established his residence there. In the course of a month, they reached an agreement as to what should be done. Indeed, Croy accepted the plan which Díaz proposed in substantially the form that the latter presented it. O'Connor and Buccarelli had wished to transfer the procedios of Orcasitas and Buenavista to the Gila and Colorado, but Croy felt that they could not be dispensed with at their existing locations. Instead of building two new

  procedios, he adopted Díaz's suggestion for a much cheaper type of establishment, and boasted to Galvez of the greater economy of his plan as compared with that of Buccarelli. Two settlements were to be founded at the junction, each of which was to combine the features of mission, procedio, and civilian town in one. One settlement was to have 11 soldiers and the other 10, while four religious and 32 civilians, including artisans and interpreters,

  were to be evenly divided between the two. Married soldiers were to be selected, and it was agreed that their wives should accompany them. Croy had intended that the temporalities or material wealth of the missions should be administered by the commandant, but Díaz objected, holding that they provided a fund which was essential to the success of missionary work. Díaz urged, however, that a special grant of 200 pesos a year should be made to the friars,

  asserting that that would be even better than their retention of the temporalities. Croy readily consented, and the provision for the 200 peso grant formed part of the decree of March 7, 1780, which ordered the Díaz plan, just described, to be put into effect. Furthermore, Croy wrote to Galvez that he intended also to secure the Gila route by founding a procedio at the junction of the Gila and San Pedro. The resounding failure, which was to be the fate

  of the settlements at the junction, has been ascribed to Croy because of the so-called mongrel type of establishment that he founded, something that was not mission, procedio, or pueblo, but a conglomerate of all, and because he took away from the friars the management of the temporalities. It is fitting to observe that there is an element of unfairness in these charges. It would seem that Croy's action, as of the time that he took it, was

  altogether appropriate. He did little more than approve the recommendations of Father Díaz, who had long been an adherent of Garcés's views, and was thoroughly competent to represent him. Indeed, it could not have been foreseen at the time that the settlements would fail. Contrary to what has so often been written, it was not the first time that similar establishments had been made in the Spanish colonies, and the expedient had been reasonably successful.

  If the wrong basis for imputing the Yuma disaster to Croy has been taken, he nevertheless deserves overwhelmingly to be held to account. The real criticisms that should be applied to him are that his delay in facing the problem had resulted in the loss of the moment when the Yumas were most kindly disposed, and that by his failure to understand the situation when once he had undertaken the

  establishments, as witnesses often express pride in the economies of his plan, he not only did not ward off impending evil, but rather promoted it. Nowhere is Croy's failure to grasp the idea of the north-westward advance more clearly shown forth than in the three monumental memorials which he prepared, dated as of the years 1780, 1781, and 1782, though the last was, in fact, ready before news came to the commandant general

  of the Yuma massacre in 1781. Footnote. These memorials, as seen by the writer, contained respectively 248, 856, and 1,000 pages. In all, the keynote was the war against the Apaches. Sonora received considerable space, but more especially with reference to the Apaches in the northeast, and to a lesser extent on account of the Ceres. Each of these documents was intensely local in its point of view. There was not a word in them about the larger projects which had engaged

  the attention of Galvez and Bucarelli. Not a word about foreign aggressions along the Pacific coast at a time, too, when they had become a fact. The Californias were not even discussed in two of them, and received a meager and purely local attention in the other. On the very eve of the Yuma massacre, Croy was still priding himself on the savings he was affecting by not placing a presidio at the junction of the rivers. In fine, if these documents, which are extraordinarily valuable

  to the historian for the affairs of the frontier provinces, if they are a tribute to Croy's painstaking thoroughness on the one hand, they are indisputable proofs of his exceeding narrowness of vision on the other. Meanwhile, the two colonies on the Colorado had been founded in the fall of 1780 on the Alta California side of the river. One of them, Purísima Concepción, was set up near the junction, while the other, San Pedro y San Pablo de Baicuñer, was a little farther down.

  Trouble with the Yumas began almost at once. The enthusiasm which the natives had felt for the transient, gift-bearing Spaniards of Ansas Day had long since left them. In addition, the Spaniards who now came among them to live were not slow in proving that they were not entitled to any halo. For example, they paid small heed to the rights of the Yumas in allotting lands, and their cattle ruined the native crops. When the provisions of the settlers became exhausted,

  the Yumas demanded exorbitant prices to supply them with more, which in turn enraged the Spaniards. The Yuma chiefs now began to plot in secret against the colonists. Even Chief Palma, who had for so long been a staunch friend of the Spaniards and owed much of his exalted prestige to their support, had last cast in his lot against them. In June 1781, the long-sought recruits for Alta California arrived from Sonora. There were forty families of them,

  in charge of Captain Rivera with an escort of some eleven or twelve soldiers. Here was to be enacted the last act in the life of the ex-governor of Alta California. True to type, he appears to have been more or less incompetent to the end. He had not been at all liberal with gifts, though it is not clear whether the fault was Rivera's in not presenting them if he had them, or in Croix's in not supplying them in the first place. And his cattle destroyed

  the mesquite plants of the Yumas, thus fanning the flame of their discontent. The Yumas contained themselves until the forty families had departed, bound for the Alta California coast, then the chiefs decided to act. Rivera and his escort had, meanwhile, recrossed the Colorado and encamped there, in order to strengthen their animals before proceeding on their way. They were still there, when at last the long pent-up wrath of the Yumas broke in full force against the Spaniards.

  On July 17, at about the same hour, the two settlements on the West Bank were attacked in overwhelming force and destroyed. The two friars at Baicuñer, one of whom was Father Díaz, and most of the men, were put to death. The same thing occurred at Purísima Concepción, though Fathers Garcés and Berenice were temporarily spared, only to meet the same fate as the others on the second day thereafter. The women and children at both places were held

  as captives. Rivera and his men, meanwhile, were just across the river, unaware, it would seem, of the dramatic happenings which were taking place almost before their very eyes. On the day after the destruction of the settlements on the West Bank, the Yumas fell upon the forces of Rivera and killed them to the last man. One cannot help wondering whether Rivera had taken proper precautions. At one stroke, more than 30 Spanish soldiers and four friars had been massacred,

  a disaster of almost unprecedented proportions in the history of Spain's conquest of the northern frontier. In the light of the tremendous consequences of the Yuma massacre, that event itself and the immediate aftermath pale into insignificance. Punitive campaigns were planned and several expeditions were made during 1781 and 1782. The survivors were ransomed but not much else was accomplished. The saddest part of the whole affair was the blight which was put upon the career of

  the great explorer Juan Bautista de Anza, whom Croy made the scapegoat, though he himself was alone to blame. Ever since Croy's arrival in New Spain, he had not tired of singing the praises of Anza. Anza in Sonora, Anza in Croy's Councils at Chihuahua, Anza as Governor of New Mexico, always and under all circumstances he had received, as indeed he had merited, the Commandant General's praise. His great victory over Cuerno Verde, the Comanche Chief,

  has already been mentioned. He had not, however, made the projected exploration toward Monterrey. Indeed, Croy was not greatly in sympathy with the idea. He had, nevertheless, kept his hand in as an explorer by an attempt in 1780 to find a direct route between New Mexico and Sonora, though he had emerged opposite Llanos and Nueva Vizcaya instead of at the place he had intended. Now Croy suddenly discovered that Anza was not the man he had claimed him to be. Indeed,

  he insisted that Garces and Anza had grossly exaggerated the facts in praising the humas in their lands. Since Garces had met his death in the massacre, Croy presently ceased to attack him and confined his maledictions to Anza. The injustice of Croy's charges is apparent. Anza had stated that the route discovered by him would be impracticable if the humas were hostile or even unfriendly, owing to the difficulty of crossing the Colorado in times of flood.

  Garces had repeatedly urged the founding of a presidio at the junction of the rivers, and so had Anza. One of Croy's long memorials quotes Anza to that effect. Buccarelli, O'Connor, and Galvez himself had advised Croy to take immediate action toward securing the Alta California route. Croy alone was blameworthy because he had delayed too long, but he was not man enough to admit it. In January 1783, Croy called the junta of the leading officers then

  in Sonora to decide what action should be taken concerning the settlements at the junction. At this meeting appeared Felipe de Neve, who had just come from Alta California by way of the Anza route. Like Anza, he too was in fact nearing the end of his career, but though he was to die at the height of his reputation, he tarnished his fame before the bar of history by joining in the campaign against Anza. He condemned the Colorado country, saying it was a region of salt marshes

  and sand with slight rainfall and scant pasture, and this of a territory which now includes the Imperial Valley, one of the richest agricultural sections in the world. Neve, though fairly correct from a superficial standpoint, certainly erred in vision. The prevailing opinion of the junta was that the settlements at the junction served no useful purpose, since it would always be possible to use the route to Alta California if some 30 soldiers were sent along. As it would

  cause a heavy expenditure to restore the settlements, it was held best to abandon the idea. With this decision, made by Croy and his advisors on January 3rd, 1783, the Yuma disaster, which might otherwise have been a local event of small consequence, took its place in history as a factor of far-reaching importance. For the land route to Alta California had been, and was to remain, closed. Before discussing it further, it is well to turn again to Anza, whose career henceforth was an unbroken

  record of undeserved misfortunes. Hugo O'Connor, who had quarreled with Croy from the moment of the latter's arrival as Commandant General, had prophesied the Yuma disaster at about the time when, in fact, it had already happened. When he heard of this, Croy made haste once more to exculpate himself. If Anza had not misrepresented the country, he said, he himself would never have given orders for its occupation, and the massacre would therefore not have occurred. Even if true,

  which it wasn't, this statement is in itself a condemnation of Croy and his failure to understand the problems of the Anza route. Croy was not long to remain on the scene, however. Late in 1783, he was promoted to be Viceroy of Peru. Felipe de Neve now became the Commandant General, and from the first displayed a venomous temper against Anza that is hard to account for, unless as the peevishness of an old campaigner broken in health. It was the custom for Spanish

  officers to draw up an annual service sheet, which at the same time gave an indication of their entire career. Neve ordered Anza to omit styling himself the discoverer of the route to Alta California, on the ground that that honor belonged to the Indian Tarabal. He also commanded him not to lay claim to the victory over Cuernaverde, asserting that the credit really belonged to Azuela, Anza's subordinate in that fight. Furthermore, he quarreled with Anza over

  his handling of New Mexican affairs, and asked Galvez for his removal, stating that he was incompetent. Very likely, Croy was largely responsible for Neve's attitude. It is not probable that Neve ever read Anza's reports and diaries, which in fact represented the Colorado country with substantial correctness. Rather, he listened to the embittered Croy, eager to clear himself from blame and crying to the four winds of heaven that Anza had misrepresented the situation

  to him. If Anza and Neve had been personally acquainted, the latter might better have judged his man. But the evidence of their annual service reports would tend to show that they had never met. Through all this misfortune, Anza's conduct was exemplary. As a subordinate, he was not in a position to resent Neve's insults. He met them, though, with a becoming dignity and a clearness of explanation that would have convinced anyone who was not predisposed to an opposite view.

  Felipe de Neve, who deserves to be remembered as Alta California's greatest Spanish governor, and not as a crabbed commandant general, soon passed away. At length, one of Anza's old companions, Chacobo de Ugarte, became commandant general and dared to come to Anza's defense. He wrote to Galvez in 1786 that Neve's opinion of Anza's government of New Mexico had been founded on the incorrect reports of the latter's opponents, and that Anza had in fact merited praise

  rather than removal. This was a courageous letter under the circumstances. Croy's failure had been a defeat for the former Besitador, whose vindictive spleen has already been set forth. Indeed, he had long since appointed a new governor of New Mexico, without in any way providing for Anza, who still remained in New Mexico awaiting the arrival of his successor. Anza, meanwhile, petitioned for the governorship of a province in the Viceroyalty, where he might pass the

  remainder of his days in freedom from hardships. Ugarte warmly espoused this petition, and José Antonio Rangel, who had once been temporary commandant general, and then occupied one of the highest positions in the northern provinces, wrote across the document itself that he, too, endorsed it. Yet again, in 1787, Ugarte wrote to Galvez on behalf of Anza, this time urging that he be made governor of Texas. The evidence is not yet complete as to the result of Ugarte's efforts,

  but it is probable that nothing came of them. Certainly Anza did not become governor of Texas, and no record has come to light showing him in possession of any other post. He seems to have remained in New Mexico until 1788, when at length his successor arrived. Thereupon Anza disappears from view. Thus did one of Alta California's most intrepid heroes pass into undeserved obscurity. The Yuma Massacre did not undo the work of Bucarelli, though it prevented

  it from coming to its fullest fruition. The great Viceroy had saved the Spanish establishments in the north from failure, thus keeping that territory temporarily in the hands of Spain and checking the designs of the English and Russians, more particularly the former, for getting a foothold on the Pacific coast. Croy's negligence in handling the situation, which was primarily responsible for the Colorado disaster, brought the great forward movement in the growth of Alta

  California to a standstill, thus making it inevitable that neither Spain nor Spanish America should retain the province in the north and that it should one day pass into the keeping of the United States. The American people, if most surely they will admire the character and deeds of the great man who would have prevented their ultimate expansion to the Pacific coast, may well feel glad that the favoritism of Galvez brought forward Teodoro de Croy. Judged by results alone, Croy

  should be regarded as an American hero of the First Water. End of chapter 26

• 27 - The Aftermath

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  CHAPTER XXVII. THE AFTERMATH. It turned out that the events of July 17 and 18, 1781, settled the question of the development of Alta California under Spain, leaving the province to its own feeble efforts. The story may first be told how Spain came to accept this verdict.

  Thereafter, it will be possible to go back to the narrative of local events. The principal impulse for the Spanish advance had sprung from a fear of foreign encroachments. Indeed, the prospect of danger in the far northwest had been greater than the fact, but that had been enough to stir Galvez and Bucarelli to action. Since then, the actual peril was to be greater than ever before, yet Spain's efforts were

  in the inverse ratio, growing correspondingly less. It has already been pointed out that a fresh voyage to the north was made by Arteaga and Bodega in 1779, after which orders were received to discontinue these voyages in the future. This soon caused the Spaniards once more to take cognizance of the northwest coast. When Captain James Cook picked up a cargo of furs there in 1778, a new force came to

  the fore to affect the situation. Henceforth, there was an economic reason for foreign visits. An English captain named Ahana was the first to follow up this phase of Cook's discoveries. Coming from China, he reached North America in 1785 and recrossed the Pacific with a shipload of furs.

  In the next three years, a host of Englishmen followed Ahana's lead. Mears, Tipping, Lowry, Guise, Strange, Portlock, Dixon, Barclay, Duncan, Colnett, and Douglas, these were the leaders in these voyages. Some of them came more than once. It was in 1788, too, that John Kendrick and Robert Gray, two American commanders, came

  to the Pacific Northwest after a voyage of nearly a year from Boston by way of Cape Horn. Theirs was the first of a long series of voyages which were to make the Boston Ships, as the American vessels were called, famous in the annals of Alta California and the Pacific Coast. In 1786, a famous French voyage of exploration under the command of the Comte de la Perreau

  passed down the coast to Alta California. La Perreau informed the Spanish authorities that the Russians had several establishments in the far Northwest. It was this report that stirred the Spaniards to renewed activity, with advantages superior to those of any other power, especially because, for nearby base of supplies, Spain, almost

  alone of the European and American peoples with interests in the Pacific, did not participate in the fur trade. The Intendant of the Philippines, Sirico González Carvajal, having heard of Hanna's voyage, recommended that the Spaniards should engage in the traffic, but the powerful Philippine company threw cold water on González's scheme and killed it.

  The reports of La Perreau were too definite to be disregarded, however. So, in 1788, the Princesa and San Carlos, under Esteban José Martínez and Gonzalo López de Haro, were sent to the North. This time the Russians were found. Martínez and López de Haro reported that they seemed bent on pushing as far south as

  Newtka Sound, off the west coast of what is now called Vancouver Island. Information was also received that the English had pretensions to that port. Consequently, Martínez was sent out again in 1789. He found some English vessels at Newtka and seized them and their officers and crews. When the news reached England, public opinion was so inflamed that the British government

  threatened war. Spain at first stood her ground and appealed to France under the terms of the Family Compact. The Great Revolution was already in full swing in France and the government was in the hands of the National Assembly. This body acknowledged its obligations under the Family Compact, but imposed conditions

  to joining with Spain against England that the Spanish authorities felt themselves unable to accept. As Spain could not hope to defeat England without French help, there was nothing to do but yield, as she had done 20 years before to the English demands. A treaty was signed in 1790 by which Spain agreed to the right of the English to trade

  and even make settlements north of the Spanish establishments in Alta California. English ships were also given permission to enter Spanish ports along the coast, though not to engage in commerce. This treaty was supplemented by later conventions of the next few years, the virtual effect of which was to leave the region north of San Francisco Bay open to whichever country

  should settle it first. The year 1790, when Spain suffered defeat in the Newtka Sound controversy, may be taken as one of the great dates in the history of Spanish colonization. It marks the beginning of what may be termed the Defensive Defensive, a defensive of a self-conscious waiting kind, the inevitable outcome of which was defeat and disintegration.

  The new state of mind was well represented in a famous memorial of the Conde de Revilla Galledo, viceroy of New Spain from 1789 to 1794, and son of the former viceroy of the same name. Revilla Galledo prepared a voluminous report on the history of the Department of San Blas and the Californians, including the far northwest, since 1769.

  The keynote of the document was the vast expense involved in the northern conquests. He praised Bucarelli for what he had accomplished, noting especially that he had been able to achieve a great deal despite lack of sufficient funds. Nevertheless, Revilla Galledo believed that henceforth all costly enterprises of conquest should be looked on at least with skepticism, and probably with disapproval.

  From now on there ought to be an end of such projects as compel us to incur heavy expenses, even if they may be recommended with the most positive assurances of advantageous results, for it is always understood that these results are to be in the future, whereas the expenditures have to come out in cash from a treasury that is full of urgent matters requiring attention and that is constantly covering itself with considerable debts.

  Once its funds and those of the moneylenders are exhausted, the project cannot be sustained. Their advantages will disappear, the return of the sums expended will be difficult, and perhaps it may be necessary to add still greater outlays, with the almost self-evident risk of their being yet more fruitless. In the course of 25 years, many millions of dollars have been consumed in founding and maintaining the new establishments of Alta California,

  in repeated explorations of its northern coasts, in works at the department of San Blas, and in the occupation of the port of Nutca. But if we engage in yet other, more distant and venturesome enterprises, there will be no funds left with which to sustain those that we have already taken upon ourselves. Thus did the viceroy announce himself as in favor of retaining what Spain already had, but as opposed to following the policy in the future which had in former years

  brought about the occupation of Alta California. With a complacency that would have been strange indeed 20 years before, he remarked that the Russians had settlements reaching southward almost to Nutca, but Spain had too few troops and ships of war and too scant funds to dislodge them. He did show some anxiety over the English, being especially afraid lest they try to gain a foothold near the Spanish colonies with the object of engaging in illicit trade. It might be well,

  he thought, to occupy Bodega Bay a little north of San Francisco and possibly the mouth of the Columbia. He was opposed, however, to extending the Spanish dominion to the northern coasts and favored ceding Nutca to the English. The Spanish occupation of such distant localities could only lead to foreign complications and would most certainly cause heavy expense. Clearly, the Spanish Empire was on the defensive. Indeed, it did not even go so far as Revilla

  Gaguero had recommended. A weak attempt was made to occupy Bodega Bay. It failed and the project was permanently postponed. Nothing else of any consequence as against the English and Russian peril seemed even to have been tried. The spirit of the Spanish Empire had changed, but there were a number of contributing factors affecting the development of Alta California besides that of the dominant importance given to the need for economy, though they were of about the same order

  when not even less powerful as in the days of the Spanish advance. The Indians of Sonora continued to be troublesome, especially the Saris. The Apaches, however, soon ceased to be the perennial thorn in the flesh they had always been. Between 1786 and 1797, peace was made with different groups of Apaches. The Spanish government promised to give them various articles that they could not make themselves, even powder and guns, though of inferior quality. Secretly, also,

  the authorities planned to ply them with liquor so as to demoralize them and to encourage them to make war on one another, hoping that in this way they might become exterminated. At an annual cost from 18,000 to 30,000 pesos, the peace was maintained nearly to the end of the Spanish rule. Another factor tending to check the use of the land route from Sonora, on which any appreciable growth of Alta California necessarily depended, was that of the rapid changes in jurisdiction of

  the various governments of the frontier. The commandancy general did not remain as a single unit for the entire frontier. At times, there were two commandancies, and once there were three. Occasionally, too, the viceroy's power was restored. After 1793, the Californias remained under the viceroy and Sonora under some one or the other of the commandancies until the downfall of the Spanish government in America. This may help to account for the opposition of

  later commandant generals to the reopening of the Anza route. It meant the making of an effort for the sake of regions beyond their frontiers and a divided authority over any route that might be opened. It must also have tended to make local concerns seem of more account to them than the possibility of foreign danger. Thus was Alta California compelled to depend upon the inadequate services of the department of San Blas, supplemented by illicit trade with foreigners.

  In one respect, the Anza route had already done its work. The province had reached a substantial footing as regards the number and kinds of domestic animals it had. Agriculture, too, though of little variety, developed sufficiently to supply the scant needs of the settlers. The principal lacks were in manufactured articles, which had to be procured elsewhere and, most of all, in population. A few straggling colonists crossed over to Baja California from

  Sinaloa in later years and came north to Alta California, but the great majority of the inhabitants were descendants of those who had come between 1769 and 1781. Prolific as they were in raising families, the Spanish Californians could not, by this means, build up a population large enough to expand into the interior where the gold awaited them. Indeed, with the exception of Branciforte, Santa Cruz, not a single civil or military establishment was founded after Felipe

  de Neve left the province. The total number of whites, mestizos, and mulattoes in 1790 was about 970, and in 1800, about 1200. Since most of the men were soldiers, the population was economically unproductive. The government quota for the army called for 205 men. Indian labor, mostly at the missions, furnished the larger part of what the province supplied. In 1793, the Christian population of the two Californias was estimated at 12,666.

  If the development of Alta California had been greatly desired, Sonora was more and more capable of supplying the sinews of advancement. Despite its frequently recurring internal difficulties and the expense of the procedural posts, the province was able to yield a profit to the government even at a time when the salary of the commandant general was charged against Sonora alone instead of being apportioned over the entire frontier. Furthermore, it grew steadily

  in number of inhabitants. In 1781, Sinaloa and Sonora combined had a Christian population of 87,644, in 1793 of 93,396, and in 1803 of 121,400. The greater number was to be found in Sonora. For example, in 1781, Sonora had 52,228, or about 60 percent. Several proposals were made to reopen the Anza route. For a time they were frowned upon, and in 1786 the Viceroy went so far as to prohibit such a measure. Possibly because of the

  improvement in relations with the Apaches, there was a revival of interest soon afterward. In 1787, Pedro Fagas, who had again become governor of Alta California in 1782 after Neve's departure, suggested a comprehensive plan for the betterment of conditions in Alta California. His proposals were three in number. That four new missions should be erected, that carpenters, smiths, masons, and other artisans be sent to Alta California to instruct the Indians,

  and that a presidio be established at Santa Olaya on the west bank of the Colorado below the Gila Junction, with connecting posts at Sanoita in northwest Sonora, and in the Valley of the San Felipe in Baja California, but along the Anza route. The first two proposals were viewed favorably, and in the course of a few years were acted upon. The third met with varying response, but the consensus of opinion was against it, a view in which Revia Gaguero concurred when

  it linked the matter came before him for decision. The question of the land route was raised again of the land route was raised again in 1792, and in 1796 Diego Borica and Jose Joaquin de Arriaga, respectively the governors of Alta and Baja California, made suggestions independently of one another without object in view. It is not necessary to follow the correspondence in detail, but it may be well to cite the memorial of the year 1801 in which Pedro de Nava, then

  commandant general, set forth his opinions. The advantages of reopening the Colorado route, according to him, were two, the possibility of giving aid to the Californias in case of a foreign invasion, and the benefits of reciprocal trade between the Californias and New Mexico. As for the first, the route was known to exist and could at any time be utilized if a considerable force were sent along, but there was no need to keep it open unless a foreign attack should

  actually occur. As for the second, neither of the two provinces was far enough advanced to require any new outlets for trade. The opinions of Nava prevailed. When the question came up in 1804, the matter of the route was decided in the negative. It is to be noted that the plans for developing Alta California by means of the route had received scant attention, virtually none from Nava. Then why use the route any longer? As Nava had said,

  it was there in case of need. Other proposals were made during the remainder of Spanish rule and, indeed, in the Mexican period. But nothing came of them. Fear of foreign aggressions in the Californias certainly continued with ever-increasing justification, but the day of action had passed. The closing decades of Spanish rule in Alta California and the quarter century of Mexican rule form one of those periods which is the delight of the poet and romancer.

  Life was less stirring than in other days, but on the whole was more agreeable. For 12 years of teeming activity from 1769 to 1781, the province had played a great part in history. For the next 65 years, the Alta Californians were to witness but one positive factor of supreme historical importance, the coming of the people who were to supplant them, the influx of the Americans, who were to find the gold and make California what it is today.

  Much went on in preliminary fashion with a bearing on the ultimate American conquest before the province was finally taken over, but that story belongs rather to the history of American California than to an account of the dying days of Spain and the troubled era of Mexican control. All else that remains of Alta California history in this period is the local narrative, much of it picturesque, indeed, but a great deal of it only petty,

  and yet, though they could not have dreamed it, the Alta Californians were fulfilling the role which Bucarelli had cast for them, a role of deep significance and fraught with moment. Few as they were, imperfect as were their standards of civilized life, they were on the ground, and that in itself was enough to keep Alta California safe from foreign occupation with its mineral wealth undiscovered. They compelled the Englishmen and the Russian to make the center

  of their settlements farther north, within the immediate range of the profitable fur trade, instead of locating in Alta California as each of them wished to do. In this way, the Alta Californians virtually saved the intervening coast of Oregon and Washington. They were the scenic while known of the American occupation. Americans may rejoice that they were there, and that people of other nationalities may feel glad or sorry, according as their sympathies direct

  them, but in the light of events as they occurred, who can say that the Alta Californians did not play an important part in the history of North America? Injustice, not anybody. End of chapter 27

• 28 - Junípero Serra

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  28. Unípero Serra Best known of the names in Alta California history, even at the present time, is that of Unípero Serra, first father president of the Franciscan missions. Only a few years Scarcely one in a hundred had heard of Buccarelli, and not many more could have identified Galvez. Portolat had some slight vogue, but the much more important Anza, Garcés, and Neve were

  obscurely recalled or completely forgotten. Though Serra was but one among a number who deserved well a posterity, it was largely due to his fame that not only his own achievements, but those of his companions as well have at length been made known to the Californians of today. Unípero Serra stands out as one of the greatest figures of his time in Alta California. He came to the province with the first expedition of occupation, and shared, therefore, with

  Portolat in the glamour of a conquest. He devoted himself unselfishly to the regeneration of a savage people, a task which makes a human appeal, and, as a result, men of all faiths have been able to unite in glorifying him as a successful missionary. But these facts would not have distinguished him from Portolat on the one hand, or Father Lasuean on the other. Much more important as affecting his fame was the publication of a biography prepared by his lifelong friend,

  ardent admirer and co-worker Francisco Palu. Palu's volume was written to prove the great work of Father Serra. It seems probable, as has been asserted, that the author hoped it might help to procure the beatification of his revered brother Franciscan. In accord with the extravagant style of the period, the book displayed a tendency to colourful writing, and was replete with miraculous happenings. Yet it was also a history of Alta California,

  grouped around the life of Serra. Published shortly after Serra's death, it remained for nearly a century almost the only history of the early days that had ever appeared. Naturally, therefore, Father Serra has walked through many thousands of pages of print, with the advantage, too, of having his tale presented under the most favourable circumstances. Is it any wonder, then, that there sprang up a veritable Sierra legend?

  There was the Serra of Miracles, recited by Palu, the reputed Saving of the Colony in 1770, and even a hazy notion that he had planned and led the expeditions at that time, after which, as many believed, he became ruler of the province. He was clothed with all the blandly benign attributes which people believe ordinarily that a saint should have, a garment which ill-fitted the strenuous and hard-fighting friar. When all is said and done, however, the venerable

  Junipero comes out far better in the light of the facts than have the heroes of other historic legends. He himself loses nothing when the test is applied. His glory is dimmed, if at all, only in that it is necessary to give a mead of praise to others. His legendary fame attracted Californians to the story of their past. Thus, there developed that remarkable interest in local history which has long been a characteristic of the citizens of the Golden State, and which

  led, inevitably, to an investigation of the record. Bucarelli, Galvez, Anza, Garcés, Neve, Lausuan, and even Portolat may well render thanks to Serra, as should he, in turn, to Palu. Thus, too, it is poetically correct to say that Serra should be the hero of fiction and of the mission play, for he stands as the symbol in the minds of Californians of the days when their state belonged to Spain. The real Serra was indeed a remarkable man. Already at an advanced age when

  he came to Alta California, he nevertheless possessed the traits which were most needed in the pioneer. He was an enthusiastic, battling, almost quarrelsome, fearless, keen-witted, fervently devout, unselfish, single-minded missionary. He subordinated everything, and himself most of all, to the demands of his evangelical task as he understood it. Withal, his administration as Father President was so sound, and his grasp of the needs of the

  province so clear, that he was able to exercise a greater authority than would ordinarily have been permitted. Though he fought with local governors, he won the confidence of Bucarelli, who preferred his judgment to that of either Fagas or Rivera. Thus, he was able in a measure to attain his ends in the face of gubernatorial opposition, and so, too, he must be given credit for much that was done because it was at his advice that many projects were undertaken.

  Father Serra was born on November 24, 1713, of humble parents in the village of Petra on the island of Mallorca, one of the Balearic islands to the east of Spain. 200 years later, in 1913, a monument was raised to Father Serra in the principal square of his native town. The writer was present as a delegate of the State and University of California. Baptized Miguel Jose, he took the name Junipero on entering the Franciscan Order. This he did

  at the early age of 16 years. In due time, he became a doctor of theology and an able preacher. In 1749, now nearly 36, he turned up at Cadiz as one of a number of missionaries who were about to embark for New Spain. Just prior to his departure, he wrote a letter to his brother Franciscan and relative, Francisco Serra, giving ample testimony of his love for family, and even more so of his religious fervor. A portion of the letter follows,

  Friend of my heart, I lack words to tell you how much sorrow I feel in leaving you, and please repeat the same thing to my family who, I have no doubt, must also feel grief at seeing me leave. I would like to impress upon them the great joy I feel. I intend to pledge myself to go there and never return. The vocation of the apostolic preacher, especially under the present circumstances, is the best which one could desire to go into.

  His life may be long or brief, but if he knows how to compare its length with eternity, he will see clearly that, in any event, it could not be more than an instant. Such is the will of God, and I shall render him the little assistance I can. If he does not wish us to be together in life, he will unite us in immortal glory. Tell them that I am very sorry not to be with them as I was before, to comfort them. But they ought to have in mind also that

  the principal thing must be held first, and that is the will of God. For nothing else but the love of God would I have left them. Thus did he renounce home and country to consecrate himself irrevocably to his task. The voyage to New Spain was described by Palu, who also made it, in a brief and somewhat colorless account. Serra himself wrote about it, most vividly, and at great length to Francisco Serra. Owing to shortage of fresh water, they were obliged to make

  port at the city of Puerto Rico, San Juan, where they remained fifteen days. Here the religious were most active in holding services for the inhabitants. With the humility, customary in the language of friars of that time, Serra, who had just recounted the wonderful preaching of others, somewhat naively proclaimed his own failure as follows. When I preached, not a sigh was heard, although I preached on fervent subjects, and in a loud voice. But Palu insists,

  no doubt with correctness, that Serra's preaching was a distinct success. After going on the rocks in a first attempt to get clear from the island port, the vessel soon afterward made the open sea. Nearing Vera Cruz, it ran into a violent storm, which all but wrecked it. According to Serra, it was probably due to Santa Barbara, whom the religious had selected as their patron saint to save them, that the danger was averted.

  On December 10th, therefore, after more than three months out of Cadiz, since August 29th, he landed at Vera Cruz. Looking back over the voyage, he displayed that pride in his own sea legs that many another in all ages has shown. Quote, I have had nothing at all to matter with me. Indeed, I am the only one of all the religious, both Franciscans and Dominicans, 27 and 7 respectively, and the servants of both groups as well, who was not seasick.

  While the rest were almost dead, I never so much as realized that I was at sea, and that is the real truth. Unquote. It is reassuring to note, too, that Serra was enough of a human being to evince an interest in matters of food and drink, as appears at several points in the letter just cited. Soon after their arrival in New Spain, Serra and Palu were sent to the Sierra Gorda missions

  in modern Tamalipas in northeastern Mexico, where the former was father president from 1750 to 1759, residing with Palu at the mission of Santiago de Jaupan. In 1758, orders came for Serra to undertake the more dangerous mission among the Indians of northern Texas, the Spanish efforts to obtain a foothold there centered about the region of Sansaba, but the settlements had never been prosperous. Before Serra had a chance to enter this new field, there occurred the

  massacre of 1758 which wiped out that post. Not knowing that this would operate to prevent his going, Serra wrote a stirring account of the massacre to his nephew Miguel and Petra, telling especially of the miracles which had followed the martyrdom of Father Jose Santa Esteban. Nowhere in the letter was there the slightest intimation of his being afraid to go there. Rather, it seems probable, as Palu states, that he earnestly desired this dangerous service.

  All that Serra himself said in the letter just cited was the following. Quote, In place of my happy beloved friend, the holy mandate is now sending there this miserable sinner, who is your uncle, together with Father Fray Francisco Palu. I recognize my uselessness and incompetence for so great an undertaking, but God is able, even through the agency of nothing itself, to achieve works which redound to his glory. End quote. Footnote. The members of Serra's

  branch of the Franciscan order frequently, almost habitually, styled themselves individually as nothing itself. End footnote. The death of the viceroy in New Spain caused a postponement of the project to reestablish the mission, and shortly afterward, the plan was given up. But for this change, California would in all probability never have had Serra as Father President of the missions, and Texas might today be proclaiming him as one of her early heroes.

  From 1759 to 1767, Serra spent much of the time at the Franciscan College of San Fernando in Mexico City. He also traveled about as a commissioner of the Inquisition. In 1768, he became Father President of the Fernandine Missions of Baja California, once he went to Alta California with the expeditions of 1769. From then until his death in 1784, he was Father President of the Missions in the Northern Province.

  Nine missions were founded during his presidency. Not only in religious matters, but also in every other phase of Alta California affairs, he played an important part. Possibly his greatest individual service was that which he performed in connection with his visit of 1773 to Mexico City. It was then that he gave Buccarelli the information and advice which enabled the latter for the first time to get

  a clear understanding of the situation in Alta California. Just prior to his return, Serra wrote a letter to his nephew telling what he had done during the past five years. In none of the letters of his private correspondence that have thus far come to light, is the missionary order of Father Junipero more clearly and unaffectedly set forth. Already nearly 60 years old, he seemed impatient of anything that had no direct relation to his

  spiritual task. He had definitely left family and native land behind. He spoke of the possibility of further letters from him in such a way as to imply that he might not write again. And indeed, no further Serra letters have been found in the files at Petra. Even his remembrances to Mallorcan friends were coupled with a desire for their prayers that he might become a better missionary. Among other things, he told how his journey to Mexico had broken his health,

  with the result that he had nearly died while at Guadalajara before reaching the capital. After a few days they ordered the last sacraments to be administered to me, and I was in great danger. When the continuous fever broke in detergent, I went on my way and arrived at the city of Queretaro once again so weak that they also ordered the last sacraments to be administered. Soon, however, I got better, and at last reached this Holy College of San

  Fernando. For a long time, I was very weak and without appetite. But now, blessed be God, I am completely restored to health." Not less interesting in this connection is a letter written in August 1773 by Father Pablo Font of the College of San Fernando to a brother friar in Catalonia. The Father President, Junípero Serra, is a religious of the Observant order, a man of very venerable age, formerly a professor at the University of Palma,

  who during twenty-four years since he has been a missionary of this college, has never spared himself in toiling for the conversion of the faithful and the unfaithful. Footnote. Observant is one of the names of the Minerite branch of the Franciscan friars. Notwithstanding his many and laborious years, he has the qualities of a lion which surrenders only to fever, neither the habitual indispositions from which he suffers, especially in the chest

  and in difficulty of breathing, nor the wounds in his feet and legs have been able to detain him a moment from his apostolic tasks. He has astonished us during his recent sojourn, for although very sick, he never failed, day or night, to take part in the choir, much less when he had fever. We have seen him apparently dead only to be immediately revived. If, now and then, he attended to the needs of bodily health at the infirmary,

  it was only because he was ordered to go there. Sometimes, in his journeys among the faithful and the unfaithful, he has become so ill on account of his wounds and other infirmities that it was necessary to carry him on a stretcher. But he did not wish to stop to cure his half-dead body, and soon he would be restored to health through the influence of divine providence alone. In very truth, on account of these things, and because of the austerity of his life, his humility,

  charity, and other virtues, he is worthy to be counted among the imitators of the apostles. And now he is returning, as if it were nothing, to Monterey, a distance of a thousand leagues by sea and land, to visit those missions and rejoice them by his presence and by the measures which he has procured, and to preside over them and found other missions until he shall die. May God grant him many years of life. Much more could I say of this holy man. He has,

  at various times, been elected Father Superior, but he was never confirmed, either on account of his absence, or because the prelates thought it was wiser not to withdraw such an extraordinary man from his apostolic tasks. It was in the spirit reflected in these letters that Father Sarah performed his work as Father President. Very much of a human being, though he was, the man nevertheless was subordinate at all times to the religious. To tell what Sarah did in Alta

  California would necessitate touching on every phase of affairs in the province during his life. It is more important, perhaps, to direct attention to the nature of his authority, so as to make clear what he himself could and could not do. The clue to an accurate estimate is in an understanding of the already discussed institution of the Real Patronato. Footnote. See Chapter 12 in which the whole question of the mission is taken up.

  In footnote. From this, it will appear that the Father Presidents in Alta California were as much subject to the King and Viceroy as the various Presidial Captain, save only in the spiritual attributes of their profession. In earlier times, mission presidents were occasionally granted a much wider authority. That was true of the Jesuits in Baja California prior to their expulsion. There, the Jesuit rectors were indeed responsible under the Viceroy for all that was done,

  for they headed the military and political establishment as well as the religious. In Alta California, Father Sarah and his successors had religious authority only, while the military and political resided in the Governor. The Father President and the Governor were to a certain extent independent of each other, but both were subject to the Viceroy of New Spain or to the Commandant General of the Frontier

  Provinces during part of the time after 1776. Save for the higher authority of the political rulers of New Spain and the Father Superior of San Fernando, who was himself a subordinate in a measure of the Viceroy, the Father President held absolute power over the missionaries of his flock, and they in turn exercised an almost absolute control over their individual missions, as already pointed out. The semi-independence of the mission guard,

  almost the only authority outstanding from the friars, was a fruitful source of quarrels with the Governors. The latter tended to emphasize its freedom from mission jurisdiction, while the missionaries held that it should be altogether subordinate to their wishes. The Father President was not empowered to take action on his own responsibility, but was permitted to make recommendations directly to the Viceroy, instead of through the office of the Governor.

  In fine, therefore, a dual power was established in Alta California. When the two elements clashed, the Governor usually had the advantage, for he commanded the troops of the province, and as a military man might expect to get a more sympathetic hearing from the Viceroy or Commandant General, who in most cases was a soldier too. But the friars, as a result of their intellectual attainments and the unselfishness of their pretensions, were often able to gain their

  objects. Furthermore, they were the only element in the province with economic resources at their command, for the missions produced almost all that was raised in Alta California during the Spanish period. The Father Presidents are therefore entitled to be considered, with the Governors, as one of the two ruling elements in the province. From this, it is clear that Sarah had no such opportunity as that vouchsafed Salvatierra in Baja California. The latter must be considered

  as the Conqueror and Governor of Baja California, while Sarah was never the dominant figure in Alta California. Indeed, the absolutist kings of Spain had just previously banished the Jesuits because they were frightened by the power to which that order had attained, and any attempted restoration of the Jesuit system was distinctly frowned upon. Sarah, no doubt, would have preferred a position such as the Jesuits had enjoyed, because then he could have pursued his work of

  Christianization untrammeled. Both Galvez and Bucarelli had insisted, too, that the propagation of the faith was the primary task of the Spaniards in Alta California, and if they thought this more from the standpoint of its utility to the Empire, Sarah understood it literally as affecting the Kingdom of God. It was on this account that he quarreled almost incessantly with the Governors, claiming that they were not advancing the interests of the mission establishments

  and that they were endeavoring unduly to exercise authority over the friars. On the other hand, the Governors felt that theirs would be an empty government if it did not include a perfectly definite authority over the missions for whose defense they were responsible and to which they furnished soldiers. Clashes were therefore inevitable, and it was only a question of temperaments how far they should be carried. Beyond a doubt, Sarah had far more friction with

  the Governors than did his successor, Father Lassouine, but this was not wholly due to their differences in disposition. The problems were newer in Sarah's day, the state of the province less secure, and the men with whom he had to deal, especially Philippa de Neve, were perhaps somewhat less amenable to argument than were the Governors of a later day. At any rate, Sarah was usually able to gain his point, and knew how to seize on some of the petty annoyances put

  upon him by the Governors to help his case in more important affairs. He was able to procure the dismissal of Fagas and the appointment of Rivera in his place, but the new man proved more of a thorn in his flesh than the old. Largely with the view to sustaining Sarah's position in his quarrels with Rivera, Buccarelli caused the latter to be transferred and put Philippa de Neve in command. Philippa de Neve was an able Governor, but one cannot help feeling that judgment should be

  given in favor of Sarah in most of the disputes that they had. Indeed, the Governor not infrequently displayed that vindictive spirit which at a later time, already discussed, characterized his relations with Anza. A first issue arose between them over the question whether double rations for five years should be granted to the friars at three new missions, as had been the custom formerly, in accord with provisions made in the Este Veste Reglamento. Neve held that the

  law applied only to the first five missions of Alta California. In this instance, the Governor scored and was eventually sustained. A little while later, Neve questioned Sarah's authority to administer the right of confirmation to Christian converts. This power had been granted to Sarah, but Neve pointed out that it had never been sanctioned by the Commandant General Teodoro de Croix. It was found eventually that Sarah's right had been formally approved before the

  separate jurisdiction of the frontier provinces was established. Thus, Sarah won, but not until he had suffered an annoying delay of nearly two years. The most serious conflict arose over Neve's provision for the missions in the Reglamento of which he was the author. He contemplated the founding of a chain of missions, some 15 or 20 leagues inland, but these were to be a new type of establishment. A church and a residence for the friar in charge were to be built, but no animals

  or implements of husbandry provided. Indeed, the governmental and economic phases of mission life were to be abandoned, and the task of the friar was to be limited to the religious instruction. One friar at a mission instead of the customary two was deemed to be enough, and furthermore, it was intended that the number at the older missions should eventually be reduced to one. These provisions became law when the Neve Reglamento was approved by the highest authority,

  but the Franciscans, both in Alta California and at the college in Mexico, unceasingly opposed putting the law into effect. Sara refused to found new missions on that basis, and the father superior of the college declined to send any additional friars to Alta California. Of course, they could have been compelled to take action, but they were not. Perhaps it was fortunate for them that Neve did not long remain in Alta California after his Reglamento went into effect. At any rate,

  the matter never came to a head, though it remained a dread possibility even into the presidency of Father La Sueyne. And so at length, after a career which had touched the affairs of the province at every point, the venerable Father Presidents was attacked by what proved to be his last illness. Already past seventy, and enfeebled by hardship and the self-imposed rigors of an austere Christian life, he knew that his time to die had come. He sent for Father Palu to be present,

  and with the utmost resignation prepared himself for the event. He insisted on going about his religious tasks as usual, and the very day before his death, walked a distance of about a hundred yards in order to receive the Holy Communion in church. On the 28th of August, 1784, he passed away, and the next day was buried in the church at the Carmel Mission near the remains of his former companion in religion, Father Juan Crespi. The news of his death was received with great sorrow

  by his brethren in Mexico. Immediately thereafter, the Father Superior of San Fernando penned the following letter to the observant order in Mallorca. Quote, The news of the death of our beloved fellow countryman, Father Juniper O. Serra, occurring at the Mission of San Carlos, has just reached us from our missions of Monterey, of which he was President. Footnote. This is an instance of the use of Monterey for all of Alta California. In footnote. Like just and pious men before his time,

  he died under such circumstances that all those around him not only shed tears, but were also of the opinion that his happy soul went straight to heaven to enjoy the reward of his thirty-four years of great and ceaseless labors performed for our beloved Jesus, whom he ever kept in mind as undergoing untold suffering for our redemption. Such was the kindness which he always showed these poor Indians, that he amazed not only people in general, but also persons of high standing,

  all saying that he was a saint and that his ways were those of an apostle. This pious view of him was held from the time he arrived in the kingdom and has continued to be held without any interruption whatsoever. End quote. Thus died Juniper O. Serra, the most famous of the missionaries of Alta California. Footnote. This chapter is based principally on documents translated and edited by Charles S. Mitrani and the writer, and published under the title, New Light on Father Serra,

  in Grizzly Bear Magazine, Los Angeles, March May 1917. End footnote. End of chapter 28.

• 29 - Fermín Francisco de Lasuén

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  CHAPTER XXIX. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. CHAPTER XXIX. FERMIN FRANCISCO DE LA SUEÑE. Undying fame is not wholly the result of merit. Rarely have the strange pranks of history been better illustrated than in the extraordinary reputation enjoyed by Junipero Serra and the

  almost complete oblivion into which is passed the name of Fermin Francisco de la Sueñe, a worthy rival of his illustrious predecessor in solid achievement. Both men were able and deserving of the recognition of posterity, but Serra had two advantages which gained for him the lasting glory which it now seems impossible la Sueñe will ever have. Serra was the first father president and shares therefore in the glamour of the conquest.

  Of far greater import, however, he was so fortunate as to have a biographer, Father Pallou. Theodore Roosevelt once said, quote, We could better afford to lose every Greek inscription that has ever been found than the chapter in which Thucydides tells of the Athenian failure before Syracuse, unquote. In a similar vein, the historian Bury wrote, quote, The early portion of Greek history, which corresponds to the seventh and sixth centuries BC,

  is inevitably distorted and placed in a false perspective through the strange limitations of our knowledge. The wrong, unfortunately, cannot be righted by a recognition of it. End quote. So, too, Serra will remain famous, justly so, because of Pallou, while la Sueñe cannot hope for the renown to which he is entitled. Even though some later-day historian may yet piece together documentary evidence enough

  for a biography of this great Franciscan, something should be done, however, to rescue la Sueñe from obscurity, and it is hoped that this chapter may serve in a measure toward that end. For lack of a Pallou, we know little of the early life of la Sueñe. He was a native of Victoria in the Basque province of Alava, a worthy representative of the race to which the upbuilding of the Spanish colonies was so greatly due. The year of his birth is unknown,

  but it was probably about 1720. Eventually, he was admitted to the Franciscan order and turned up in Mexico as a member of the famous College of San Fernando. He saw service as a missionary in the Sierra Gorda in the region between the present-day states of Tamulipas and Querétaro, but left there in 1767 to join the Fernandinos under Father Serra, when the latter took over the missions of the Californias in succession to the Jesuits. By far, the most important of the missions in

  the peninsula at the time, and with the exception of the presently-to-be-founded Vela Cata, the most northerly among them, was that of San Francisco de Borja. It is a tribute to Father la Sueñe that he was directed to take charge of this mission. The task which confronted him was very difficult. On the departure of the Jesuits, military commissaries had been placed in charge of the missions, and they had spent more time searching for the supposed hidden wealth of

  the Jesuits than in promoting the welfare of the missions. As a result, the missions had fallen away. They were still further impoverished by being drawn upon for supplies for the expeditions of 1769 to Alta California. Naturally, the distant post of Borja was among the last to receive aid for its rehabilitation. The condition of affairs there and the good sense of Father la Sueñe are both illustrated by certain correspondence between him and Galvez. At the time, the

  latter was in the peninsula, the letters bearing date between September 1768 and February 1769. Galvez had published an edict against gambling, and directed la Sueñe to see that it was observed at the mission. Galvez also suggested the advisability of giving tobacco to the Indians to gain their goodwill. La Sueñe replied that he would comply with Galvez's directions, but as a matter of fact, the vice of gambling did not exist at Borja, and the Indians used tobacco

  only as snuff, and for that but sparingly. The real need at Borja was not reform or tobacco, but food and clothing, for my children are most numerous and hungry and naked. In five months, from May to October 1768, that he had been in charge of the mission, he had not received a grain of aid from anywhere. The letter impressed Galvez, but in a most extraordinary way. He wrote to la Sueñe that he proposed to relieve his necessities

  by deporting many of his neophytes to the better supplied missions of the South. It is somewhat strange that the experienced Father Serra should have endorsed this plan, which failed to take into account the extreme conservatism of the Indian in clinging to his native surroundings, however mean they might be. Galvez went on to say that two boats were to be dispatched north at once to get the Indian families designated by la Sueñe for the southern

  missions. La Sueñe was wholly opposed to this arrangement, but his answer to Galvez's letter was a model for tact. Instead of making a stormy protest, he pointed out that the plan, though very just and necessary, was at this time exposed to many difficulties and more or less impossible of execution. The Indians of his mission were still untamed and new in Christianity, wherefor it would be very difficult to make them comprehend the great utility which would come to

  them from the change and the favorable advantages which you offer them. When one of the boats arrived to take away some of the Indians, la Sueñe informed the captain that he would wait further orders from Galvez before embarking them. The correspondence closed with a letter from Galvez recognizing the correctness of Father la Sueñe's stand and approving his suspension of the sending of the Indians from Borja. No connected account can yet be given of la Sueñe's five-year term

  as the missionary of San Francisco de Borja, although some more or less fragmentary records are at hand. La Sueñe's problem, as indeed was that of the other Baja California missionaries, was not so much to build up his mission as to keep it from going to pieces. This he did in the face of discouraging circumstances. In 1771, he was able to report that, so far as was known, there was not a single pagan left in the whole district. Notwithstanding a scarcity of water

  and cultivable land, Father la Sueñe had planted vineyards, fig and pomegranate trees, and some cotton. The cotton was used at the mission in the manufacture of shawls for the Indians, and blankets were made of wool. In May 1773, when the Dominicans succeeded to the Franciscan missions of the peninsula, statistics show that there were at Borja 1,000 persons, 648 cattle, 387 horses and mules, 2,343 sheep, and 1,003 goats. The importance of the mission stands

  forth the more clearly when it appears that there were but 4,268 persons and 14,716 domestic animals in all 14 missions of Baja California. Thus, San Francisco de Borja, though by no means a favored spot, had under its control nearly a fourth of the Indians in the missions and more than a fourth of the domestic animals. A still more eloquent commentary on the services of Father la Sueñe at San Francisco de Borja might be made if it were possible to go into the intimate details

  of his private life. During five years, he was the sole missionary at that mission. Commenting on la Sueñe's expressed wish for a second missionary there, Bancroft says, We can, in some degree, imagine the desolate loneliness of a padre's life at a frontier mission. But the reality must have been far worse than anything our fancy can picture.

  These friars were mostly educated, in many cases learned men, not used to, nor needing the bustle of city life, but wanting, as they did, their daily food, intelligent companionship. They were not alone in the strict sense of the word, for there were enough people around them. But what were these people? Ignorant, lazy, dirty, sulky, treacherous, half-tamed savages, with whom no decent man could have anything in common. Even the almost hopeless task of

  saving their miserable souls must have required a martyr for its performance. But there were material discomforts as well. Writing from Alta, California in April 1774, nearly a year after his departure from the peninsula, la Sueñe begged to be relieved from the great hardship he was undergoing for lack of wearing apparel, which had already reached the point of indecency. His clothes, he said, had been in continuous use for more than five years.

  He had mended them until they no longer admitted of it, and moreover had exhausted his materials for sewing. Referring somewhat humorously in another letter to his need for clothing, la Sueñe said that it was perhaps on that account that the Indians cared for him so much on the principle that like attracts like, for he resembled them much in scantiness of wardrobe. When the Baja California missions were turned over to the Dominicans,

  eight of the Fernandillos, presumably the most capable among them, were directed to proceed to Alta, California. La Sueñe was one of the friars ordered to the northern province. The missionaries left the peninsula in charge of Father Palu, who for several years had served as president of the Baja California missions. They were escorted by a military force under Sergeant Jose de Ortega. The party reached San Francisco de Borja on June 22, 1773,

  and left there the next day, thus bringing la Sueñe's long ministry at that mission to an end. En route north, they made the first attempt that ever was made to run the boundary between the two Californias. The line of vision had been agreed upon in Mexico in May 1772. In accord with that decision, Palu and his party raised a cross on August 19, 1773, to mark the boundary between the Dominicans and the Fernandillos. The line was some five leagues north of the Arroyo of San Juan

  Bautista and 15 south of San Diego, a number of miles below the present boundary. Eleven days later, the party reached San Diego in Alta, California. It is not surprising that la Sueñe was assigned to the mission at San Gabriel. This had been founded in 1771 and gave promise of being the best site of all the missions from the standpoint of pastoral and agricultural possibilities. Hopes had not yet been realized, however, due in a measure to trouble with the

  Indians caused by the improper conduct of Spanish soldiers. La Sueñe was the right man to bring prosperity to San Gabriel. He set out for his mission at once and took up his duties there in September 1773. The time was the least propitious possible, for the great eight months famine which all but caused the abandonment of Alta, California, was then at its height. Supplies from New Spain reached San Diego on March 13, 1774, but it was not until some time later that San Gabriel was

  relieved. Meanwhile, the first Anza expedition reached San Gabriel on March 22. This made matters worse for a while since Anza too lacked supplies, but it meant an increased importance for San Gabriel, which henceforth was the first settlement in the province reached by those taking the overland route from Sonora. Father la Sueñe, already past middle life, had wished to retire to the College of San Fernando instead of coming to Alta, California, but on being informed that he

  could not be spared, resigned himself to remaining in the province. He was destined never to leave, serving continuously in Alta, California, for 30 years. Little more need be said of his stay at San Gabriel. By the close of 1774, it was already the most prosperous of the missions. Furthermore, the troubles with the Indians had been overcome. A more serious task was now at hand. The march between San Diego and San Gabriel had always been difficult, owing to the treacherous

  character of the Indians. Fathers la Sueñe and Gregorio Amurrio were designated, in August 1775, to found a mission between these two to be called San Juan Capistrano. La Sueñe, who was in Monterey at the time, made the long journey to San Diego and then turned back with Ortega, now a lieutenant, to make explorations for a site. In October, La Sueñe formally inaugurated the mission. Father Amurrio soon arrived and prospects seemed excellent, for the natives were well disposed,

  but after only a few days there came news of the great Indian uprising of 1775 at San Diego. Ortega was therefore obliged to leave for San Diego and advised the two friars to give up the mission. This seemed the part of good sense, so the mission bells were buried and the place was abandoned. Not long afterward, however, it was reoccupied. As already recounted, the San Diego Revolt of 1775 was the most serious attempt the Indians of Alta

  California ever made to throw the Spaniards out of the province. It failed, but because of the underlying seriousness of the situation, and especially because the Indians of San Diego had always been troublesome, the presence at the mission of the most able friars in the province was imperative to supplement the work of the soldiers of the procedural establishment nearby. Father La Sueñe was therefore called upon to remain at San Diego.

  For a year after La Sueñe's arrival at San Diego, there were troubles in connection with the late revolt, troubles between the friars and Governor Rivera, rather than with the Indians. The former wished to follow a policy of conciliation, as opposed to the more stringent, long-continued measures of repression undertaken by the governor. These incidents may be passed over with a remark that the friars were eventually sustained by the Viceroy of New Spain. Father La Sueñe remained

  at San Diego during the rest of Serra's presidency and the brief rule of Father Palau. Meanwhile, affairs at San Diego progressed smoothly. The earlier hostile attitude of the Indians did not again manifest itself. Palau's succession to the presidency of the missions was understood to be temporary, for he had already asked permission to retire to the College of San Fernando. Permission was granted, and probably in September 1785, Palau departed from Mexico,

  where in the following year he became Father Superior of the College. The appointment of La Sueñe as President of the Missions was dated February 6th, 1785, but it was not received in Alta California until September, when his long period of service at San Diego came officially to an end. A detailed account of the achievements of La Sueñe as Father President would involve giving a history of the province during the 18 years of his term. For the purposes of this chapter,

  it seems better to select some phases of its work and character for treatment. One of the principal objects of the Fernandinos, and of Father Serra and La Sueñe in particular, was the founding of missions whereby more souls might be saved and Alta California placed on a sounder material basis. Of the 21 Fernandino missions, nine each were founded during the presidencies of Serra and La Sueñe. Serra had long wished to establish a number of missions in the

  populous region bordering the Santa Barbara Channel, and authority for doing so was early received from New Spain. It was not until 1782, however, that the first of those missions, that of San Buenaventura, was founded, the last of Serra's nine. One of the earliest acts of La Sueñe's regime was to add two more. The Father President himself, now in his 66th year, went to the Presidio of Santa Barbara, founded in 1782, and superintended the founding of a mission nearby.

  On December 4th, 1786, this mission, Santa Barbara, at the present day the most famous of all the 21, was formally dedicated. A year later, on December 8th, 1787, La Sueñe in person inaugurated the mission of Purisima Concepcion, at a point previously selected by Governor Fagas, thus completing the channel missions, although actual work at the new establishment did not begin until 1788. Next, steps were taken to found two missions between San Carlos de Bonterey

  and Santa Clara, but clear authorization, therefore, was not received until July 1791. La Sueñe acted with customary prominence. Both sites had already been explored, but La Sueñe decided to see them himself. He found that of Santa Cruz all that had been claimed for it, and dedicated the mission there on August 28th, 1791. The sites chosen for the other mission, Soledad, were not approved by La Sueñe, who himself selected the spot for the founding.

  On October 9th, La Sueñe was on hand to raise the cross at Soledad. The governors and the friars had long wished for additional missions somewhat farther inland, though west of the coast range, with the idea of reducing all the Indians of the coast districts between San Diego and San Francisco. Besides giving more converge to the faith, this would remove the last vestige of Indian peril in the region under Spanish control.

  Governor Borica, 1794-1800, was particularly active in cooperating with Father La Sueñe to achieve this end. The year 1795 was largely taken up with careful explorations for mission sites, and in the following year the Viceroy authorized the founding of the five missions asked for. By May 1797, everything was ready. Then followed the most remarkable era of mission founding in the history of the province. Serra in 1771 and La Sueñe in 1791 had established two

  missions in a single year. Now, La Sueñe, from June to September, established no fewer than four, following in June 1798 by the erection of a fifth. At the inauguration of all these missions, Father La Sueñe presided in person, dedicating San Jose on June 11, 1797, San Juan Bautista on June 24, San Miguel on July 25, San Fernando Rey on September 8, and San Luis Rey on June 13 of the following year.

  San Jose was a number of miles north of the Pueblo, which gave the name to the present-day city of San Jose. In so doing, Father La Sueñe had to traverse the whole occupied sphere of the province, some 500 miles or more in length, enduring hardships which can scarcely be appreciated in this day and age of luxurious travel. Verily, for a man in his 77th or 78th year, Father La Sueñe might have been pardoned for feeling a high degree of self-satisfaction over

  his achievement, though there is no evidence to the effect that he did. Yet, Father La Sueñe rendered perhaps even more distinguished service as an administrator than as a founder of missions. Not only must the new missions be placed upon a durable footing, but the old ones also had to be maintained. A right to administer the sacrament of confirmation had been granted to Serra for ten years. This ceased with his death in 1784, at which time he had confirmed 5,309 persons.

  La Sueñe was the only other Father President to receive this right. It was granted for ten years in 1785, but was not forwarded until 1790. In the five-year period remaining to him, he confirmed about 9,000 persons. He also exercised other powers which ordinarily would have been in the hands of the secular clergy. Since there were no other priests in Alta California, the missionaries had

  administered the sacraments and performed various religious services for the Spanish population, though this was not a part of their regular duties. In 1796, the Bishop of Sonora, unasked, conferred on La Sueñe the titles of vicario forano and vicario castrensa, whereby he was authorized to administer the customary sacraments other than that of confirmation to the civilian and military elements respectively. At the same time, he was made U.S. ecclesiastical,

  or ecclesiastical judge, for such cases as might ordinarily be tried in a church court. All of these powers he was allowed to delegate to his subordinates, which La Sueñe accordingly proceeded to do. In 1795, too, La Sueñe was appointed commissary of the Inquisition of Mexico. As such, he had occasion to publish a few edicts forwarded to him from Mexico, and once confiscated and forwarded to the capital four copies of a forbidden game

  called El Eusebio. These new duties added considerably to La Sueñe's responsibilities, for by his own account the Spanish settlers were careless about the observance of certain precepts of the church, such as those of annual confession and receiving communion at Easter. Yet the old father president was far from being overwhelmed by his labors. In 1797, after he had just completed the founding of the four missions established in that year,

  Governor Borica, who regarded the achievement as extraordinary, complimented him and observed that he must have renewed his youthful vigor by bathing in the holy waters of another Jordan. There is another side to Father La Sueñe's administration deserving of comment in this connection. Whenever there was anything important to be done, he went himself to attend to it. His official headquarters were at San Carlos of Monterrey, but his tours were so frequent

  that he was rarely there for any length of time. It was during La Sueñe's rule, too, that a forward step was taken in the economic growth of the missions. In addition to the normal development in agriculture and stock raising, as well as in the number of Indians living at the missions, the Neophytes received instruction in the trades of the artisan beyond anything that they had had before. The friars had already taught their words all they knew, but desired to perfect them in

  their employments and to make the missions independent of the supply ships from New Spain as much as possible. Acting probably at La Sueñe's suggestion, Governor Fagas wrote to the viceroy in 1787, asking that carpenters, smiths, masons, and other artisans be sent to Alta California to instruct the Indians. About 20 were sent, at royal expense, mostly between 1792 and 1795 on four- or five-year contracts. A few remained permanently in the province, but most

  returned later to New Spain. Much of the economic advance of the missions may be attributed to their coming. One wonders, too, how much of the improvement in mission architecture was due to the building or reconstruction affected by them. Certainly the missions of the earliest days were rude edifices, while those of the period of Father La Sueñe have been almost solely responsible for the mission style which is such a characteristic note in the present-day architecture of California.

  It is necessary to deal with one other phase of La Sueñe's rule, that of his relations with the governors and procedural commanders of the province. Disputes between the religious and the military were a chronic feature of Spanish colonial administration everywhere. Neither element can justly be charged with fault for this situation. It was inherent in the dual system of government employed, where powers were either too loosely defined or else too specifically stated

  in some instances which did not fit actual circumstances. Unless both elements were disposed to get along, quarrels were sure to result, and even when they wished to avoid trouble, differences very often occurred. La Sueñe was fortunate in that the governors with whom he had to deal, Fagas, Romeo, Arriaga, Borica, and Alberni, were reasonable men eager to have affairs run smoothly when possible. Fagas was hot-tempered, but warm-hearted and incapable of

  harboring a grievance against anybody. He had had many quarrels with Sara, but his long experience as governor and La Sueñe's tactfulness enabled the two men to get over some rough spots in their relations. Borica and La Sueñe were devoted friends, but even they could not avoid disputes. One great source of trouble was the provision recommended by Governor Neve in 1779 that in the new missions about to be erected along the Santa Barbara Channel, and in others

  projected farther inland, the friars should exercise merely spiritual jurisdiction, allowing the natives to live in their own towns and make their living in their own way, and at the same time reducing the number of missionaries at a mission from two to one. La Sueñe himself wrote to the father superior at San Fernando protesting against the change. With reference to a plan to form the missions into custodias under secular control, subject to the newly appointed

  bishop of Sonora, La Sueñe expressed himself in conformity, since it had the sanction of the church. It might also serve as a means for me to depart from this government and this work. As a man, La Sueñe never desired to stay in the Californias. As a religious, he accepted, with resignation, the duty imposed upon him. As for the Neva plan, wrote La Sueñe, that if it was to be put into effect without recourse to the Council of the Indies,

  quote, I would, without delay and with a clear conscience, do all I could to seize any opportunity which might present itself to retire to the college. This measure, in my private opinion, without setting myself up against the views of others, though they may applaud it, has little of the religious in it and is reprehensibly full of zeal to save money for the royal treasury. In fine, he said, after stating the more difficult task of the missionaries,

  this new system would consign a religious to a life that was more than tiresome, to sickness without assistance, to death without sacraments. I cannot believe that his Catholic Majesty likes it, wishes, or will permit that a poor friar suffer such pitiful and grievous desolation, or that he will agree to this unbearable lack of a priest in one's greatest distress, when the friars, in order to serve the king, have deprived themselves of the very delightful company

  of so many people. Or do I think that he will see them left without the help of anyone, when they themselves are being sacrificed for the sake of all. For me, the solitude of this occupation is a cruel and terrible enemy which has struck me heavily, like a blow. I escape from it, thank God, after evident risk of dying on account of it, and now that I see it shadow again, even from afar, I am full of trembling at the mere prospect of having to return to the struggle.

  For it is possible that this misfortune, which I fear worse than death, may fall to my lot. Therefore, if this measure is not revoked, I again declare my positive and supreme repugnance to this religious task, and ask consistently that I be relieved, relying on the rights granted by our Franciscan law. I would beg, and I do beg, leave to go to my province in the order, or to attach myself to any other whatsoever in the world, for all the evils of any character,

  save that of sin, seem less to me than that of being alone in this ministry." It will be noticed that Lausuean's protest was very far from being an act of rebellion. The law of his order gave him rights in the matter, and he implied that he would obey if the Council of the Indies or the King should sustain the measure. The horror with which he recalled his service as the sole missionary at Borja, and a lurking fear of insanity if he should be required

  to perform a similar task again, seemed to underlie his resistance to the plan. And what wonder that he should have felt that way. As for the change itself, it was not actually put into effect, but the question was raised at the outset of Lausuean's presidency with respect to the two missions proposed to be founded along the Santa Barbara Channel. The Neve Reglemento had never been revoked, except that the plan for but a single missionary had probably been overruled.

  Even this variation from the original law was not certainly known in Alta California. It was now directed that the new missions should conform to the Neve arrangement. On the other hand, Lausuean received orders from the Father Superior of San Fernando not to found them except upon the old basis. Here then was a situation that had been created neither by Fagas nor by Lausuean, yet between them they handled it so that it has left but a scant trace on the

  local records of Alta California. Lausuean had his way without quarreling, and it was tacitly agreed that the mission should be founded in the way that he wished. Meanwhile, a controversy had been started prior to Lausuean's installation in office between Fagas and Palu. This was brought to a head by charges against the Fernandinos made by Fagas in September 1785. It is not necessary here to go into the charges which were somewhat trivial, but it may be said that Lausuean, upon

  whom it devolved to draw up an answer, refuted them in a dignified and convincing manner which virtually settled the dispute. In his report, which he was directing to the Commandant General of the Frontier Provinces, he reverted to the single missionary plan, quote, I shall not hesitate to give information conducive to that end, if they order me to do so or ask my advice, to the effect that I am utterly opposed, particularly on my own account, as much as it is

  possible to be opposed to the project of being alone in a mission. I shall offer myself for any kind of suffering and to die in these parts as soon as God may order it, but I am certain that there will never be a man who can convince me that I must subject myself to that solitude in this ministry. It seems that this plan has either been abolished or silently passed over, on which account I say no more, but I shall do so whenever the occasion demands it, end quote.

  The dispute between Lausuean and Fagas came for solution before the highest authorities of the Spanish government, occupying a measure of their attention for a number of years. At length, it was decided in 1793 to drop the matter. Through Lausuean's skillful management, it had died a natural death in Alpa, California. Thus, we find Fagas in his general report of 1787 about the missions speaking in the highest terms of the missionaries and nowhere saying anything derogatory

  of them. One paragraph of this document, though it does not refer directly to Father Lausuean, is worth quoting, quote, If we are to be just to all the Fernandinos as we ought to be, we must confess that the rapid, gratifying, and interesting progress, both spiritual and temporal, which we fortunately are able to see and enjoy in this vast new country, is the glorious effect of the apostolic zeal, activity, and indefatigable ardor of their religious, end quote. It would

  have been difficult for the average individual to speak in this generous matter unless he were on good terms with those to whom he was referring. Lausuean must have persuaded Fagas to bury the hatchet. A number of differences arose even in the time of Governor Borica. When the Spanish pueblo of Branciforte, modern Santa Cruz, was founded in 1797 near the mission of Santa Cruz, Lausuean and the other Fernandinos protested. The viceroy sustained Borica, however, and Lausuean had the

  good sense not to insist upon his point of view. Questions arose also over the instruction of mission Indians by the artisans sent from Mexico, the use of these Indians in pursuit of others who had run away, and the election of Indian alcaldes at the missions. These matters were arranged without undue friction so that the letter of the law was complied with, but the missionaries were allowed to carry on their affairs much as they had before. Such points of contention as these came

  to the fore now and then, to the end of Lausuean's rule, and indeed thereafter, for they were inseparable from the system of government employed. One of Lausuean's last acts was to assist in defeating an attempt to revive Neve's mission plan. In 1802 he prepared a report opposing the project. The viceroy accepted his conclusions, and the change in the mission system did not take place. It may fairly be said, however, that Lausuean was able both to maintain harmony with the military

  and to have his own way in the management of the missions. All his contemporaries spoke highly, even enthusiastically, of him. There can be no doubt that his lovable traits as a man contributed appreciably to his success as an administrator. The sweetness and nobility of his character are attested by foreigners and Spaniards alike, whose comments are all the more worthy of credence in that they wrote under circumstances which did not require them to sit down other than what they

  really felt. The great French navigator, Laperoux, visited Monterey in September 1786. In his description of the province, he inclined to disapprove of the mission system, but spoke warmly of the wise and pious conduct of the missionaries. Of the father president, he says, Father Fermin de Lausuean, president of the missions of New California, is one of the most worthy of esteem and respect of all the men I have ever met. His sweetness of temper, his benevolence,

  and his love for the Indians are beyond expression. This tribute is the more striking in that Laperoux was in Alta California at the time when the quarrel between Fagas and Lausuean, which began the latter's presidency, was at its height. Laperoux mentions this as follows, The missionaries, who are so pious, so worthy of respect, are already in open quarrel with a governor, who for his part seems to me to be a loyal soldier." Thus, Laperoux, who here and

  elsewhere evinced his liking for Fagas, was not to be blinded to the merits of the friars, and was able to give the enthusiastic praise of Lausuean quoted above. Perhaps even more remarkable is the tribute given by the English navigator George Vancouver, referring to his first meeting with Lausuean on the occasion of a visit to the mission of San Carlos in December 1792. Vancouver says,

  Our reception at the mission could not fail to convince us of the joy and satisfaction we communicated to the worthy and reverent fathers, who in turn made the most hospitable offers of every refreshment their homely abode afforded. On our arrival at the entrance to the mission, the bells were rung, and the Reverend Fermin Francisco de Lausuean, father president of the missionaries of the Order of San Francisco and New Albion, together with the fathers of this

  mission, came out to meet us and conduct us to the principal residence of the father president. This personage was about 72 years of age, whose gentle manners, united to a most venerable and placid countenance, indicated that tranquilized state of mind that fitted him in an eminent degree for presiding over so benevolent an institution. So impressed was he by the father president that in November 1793 he gave his name not once but twice to the points at the extremities

  of the Bay of San Pedro near Los Angeles. These names, Point Fermin and Point Lausuean, are still retained on modern maps. The following month, while at San Diego, Vancouver met Lausuean, who had just reached that port during one of his journeys to visit the missions in his charge. Vancouver had been prevented from sailing by unfavorable winds, but, he said, I did not regret the detention, as it afforded us the pleasure of a visit from our very highly

  esteemed and venerable friend, the father president of the missionaries." Lausuean wished to send to San Juan Capistrano for supplies to add abundantly to our stock of refreshments, and Vancouver, who expressed himself as not less thankful for these offices of kindness as convinced of the sincerity with which they were made, stated that he had great difficulty to prevail on the father president to desist from sending

  to St. Juan's for the supplies he had proposed. Finally, Vancouver writes, The enjoyment of the society of this worthy character was of short duration. It, however, afforded me the satisfaction of personally acknowledging the obligations we were under for the friendly services that had been conferred upon us by the missionaries under his immediate direction in government. Being perfectly assured that, however well

  disposed the several individuals might have been to have shown us the kind attention we had received, the cordial interest with which the father president had, on all occasions, so warmly espoused our interests, must have been of no small importance to our comfort. This consideration, in addition to the esteem I had conceived for his character, induced me to solicit his acceptance of a handsome barreled organ,

  which, notwithstanding the vicissitudes of climate, was still in complete order and repair. This was received with great pleasure and abundant thanks, and was to be appropriated to the use and ornament of the new church at the presidency of the missions at San Carlos." These statements from an Englishman who was quite as British in his conservatism as the average of his race, in an age when Englishmen felt an antipathy towards Spain and Spaniards on both national

  and religious grounds, are the strongest possible evidence of the charm of La Suena's manner and the beauty of his character. Alejandro Malaspina, commander of a Spanish voyage of discovery by the ships Descubierta and Atravida, was at Monterey in September 1791. He refers to La Suena in connection with various interpretations about the reported loss of two boats by the La Perru expedition.

  Among those who could with most judgment and knowledge make some interpretations, Fray Matias de La Suena of the Order of St. Francis, President of the Missions of New California, without doubt deserved the first place. He was a man who in Christian lore, mean and conduct was truly apostolic, and his good manners and learning were unusual. This religious had with good reason merited the esteem and friendship of both French commanders

  and the majority of their subordinates." If further proof were needed of the zeal as missionary of this great Franciscan, it may be said that he served all the years of his presidency without pay. Salaries were granted only to the two missionaries stationed regularly at each mission. The supernumerary missionaries were without stipend, and, strange to say, the father presidents were reckoned in this category.

  As La Suena put it, he lived upon the alms of his Franciscan brethren. This self-sacrifice is not so surprising in itself, for many others were equally without financial reward, but it was particularly hard for Father La Suena, who had a poor sister named Clara, about whose welfare he was anxious, for he feared that he must die without having been able to provide for her. And so at length this man, who had done a life-work after most others

  would have chosen to retire, was himself ready to pass off the scene. Old man that he was, about 83, he had retained his faculties and rendered effective service to the very end. After an illness that confined him to his bed for twelve days, he died at Mission San Carlos on June 26, 1803, and was buried there the next day. In estimating the greatness of La Suena's work, one is naturally inclined to compare him with his renowned predecessor, Junípero Serra.

  Bancroft rates La Suena ahead of Serra. It is perhaps unnecessary to choose between them, but surely La Suena worthily filled the post of the great Junípero. As a mission founder, he achieved as much, indeed it might be argued that he did more, for he is credited with having inaugurated one of those established during Serra's presidency, while he personally dedicated all of the nine erected in his own term.

  He traveled fully as much as Father Serra from mission to mission, and perhaps more. He baptized a far greater number of Indians. He built up the missions economically and architecturally. He was far more successful than Serra in maintaining harmonious relations with the military. In zeal as a Christian and missionary, he equalled, though he could not surpass, Father Junípero. And yet, it is perhaps true that the task of Father Serra in a virgin

  field was the more difficult, and therefore entitled to the greater praise for its successful fulfillment. One wonders, however, if La Suena might not have done equally well if the chance had fallen to him. And furthermore, if La Suena had had a palu to write his biography, might he not have fared nearly as well with posterity? Be that as it may, one may well sympathize with the splendid tribute paid to him by Bancroft, omitting all in it that compares La Suena to Serra.

  In him were united the qualities that make up the model or ideal padre. In person he was small and compact, and expression vivacious in manners always agreeable though dignified. He was a frank, kind-hearted old man who made friends of all he met. Distinguished visitors of French and English as well as of Spanish blood were impressed in like manner with his sweetness of disposition and quiet force of character. His relations with the college, with the government, and with his

  band of missionary workers were always harmonious, often in somewhat trying circumstances, though no one of the Franciscans had a more clearly defined opinion than he. None of them had a firmer will or were readier on occasion to express their views. His management of the mission interests for eighteen years afforded abundant evidence of his untiring zeal and of his ability as a man of business. His writings prepossessed the reader in favor of the author by their

  comparative conciseness of style. Of his fervent piety there are abundant proofs, and his piety and humility were of an agreeable type, unobtrusive and blended with common sense. Padre Fermin, as he was everywhere known, to a remarkable degree for his time and environment, based his hopes of future reward on purity of life, kindness and courtesy to all, and a zealous performance of duty as a man, a Christian, and a Franciscan.

  This from a writer not always in sympathy with the friars should be a measure of the regard in which posterity should hold the memory of the great and lovable California missionary, Fermin Francisco de la Sueyne. Footnote. This chapter is based principally on contemporary evidences, both printed works and original manuscripts in the Bancroft Library. In footnote. End of chapter 28

• 30 - Spanish Californian Institutions

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  CHAPTER XXX. A HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA, THE SPANISH PERIOD. THIS LIBERBUCKS RECORDING IS IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN. CHAPTER XXX. SPANISH-CALIFORNIAN INSTITUTIONS. By far the most numerous element in Spanish California were the Indians. Within the settled area their numbers were never very great, though outstripping that of their Spanish

  masters. In 1806 there were 20,355 Indians at the missions, the highest figure ever attained in the Spanish era. Under Mexico there were 21,066 in 1824, which was the record year for the whole period of the Franciscan missions. Outside the missions there were always very many more. As already set forth, there may have been about 133,000 in what is now the state as a whole, and 70,000 in or near the Concord area. The missions included only the

  Indians of given localities, though it is true that they were situated on the best lands and in the most populous centers. Even in the vicinity of the missions there were some unconverted groups, however. Over the hills of the Coast Range, in the valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, north of San Francisco Bay, and in the Sierra Nevadas of the south, there were untold thousands whom the mission system never reached. From the runaway mission

  Indians, who each year crossed the range, the nearer of them kept informed of the alien rule, and in the last two decades of the Spanish regime they had the usually unpleasant experience of visits by military expeditions. Otherwise, except that they represented a potential danger, which however was not taken very seriously, they were as if in a world apart from the narrow strip of coast which was all there was of the Spanish California. Yet, because

  no appalling disaster ever happened, one must not forget that the possibility was always present. Two or three thousand Yuma's had shown in 1781 what the Indians could do if only they would make the effort, and the San Diego conspiracy of a few years before had narrowly missed success. The Indians of the mission area alone could at any time have overwhelmed the paltry two to four hundred soldiers of the Spanish garrison if they had

  been willing to follow the example of their brethren of the Colorado. The presence of the Indians was as necessary, however, as it was dangerous, for they were the chief economic sustain of the province. Not only at the missions, but also in the settlements of the whites, the Indians performed most of the labor. The soldiers, indeed, were required to do some work, but the usual methods were to contract for a number of mission Indians

  or else pick them up from the unconverted tribes through bargaining with the chiefs. The people of reason, gente de razón, or civilized element, who for convenience may be called whites, were in fact of varying shades of color. The officers and missionaries were for the most part of pure white blood, but the great majority of the rest were mestizos, part white and part Indian. In the Los Angeles district, there were some mulatos. The amount

  of what is commonly called blue blood was also distinctly limited. Not a few of the Spanish Californians were ex-convicts. Indeed, some of them were at the time under sentence, being required to live in Alta California as a penalty for their crimes. Some others were foundlings from the streets of Mexico. Unpromising material as so many of them were, they yet fulfilled a great purpose in history, and the descendants from even the meanest

  of them have good cause to feel pride in their ancestry. The principal white element were the military, composed at first of almost the entire adult population except for the missionaries. In course of time, there came to be a group of retired veterans at the presidios and ranches, and a body of civilians in the pueblos who were indeed subject to call for military service but were not enrolled in the permanent garrison.

  A few small traders and vagabond sailors drifted in, especially in the second decade of the 19th century when foreigners began to come. The following estimates have been made of the total white population in the Spanish era. These figures, when analyzed, show an even smaller advance in human resources than at first sight they seem to represent. The numbers for 1780 were made up mainly of men. The women and children of

  the 1774 Rivera and 1776 Anza expeditions, and such children had since been born in the province, were the only others. The figures for 1790 include the settlers who escaped the Yuma Massacre of 1781. Upon these three expeditions, the human foundations of Alta California were laid. All accounts agree as to the extraordinary fecundity of the Spanish Californians, though the death rate must also have been shockingly great.

  At all events, it would seem that the population of 1820 could hardly have represented more than 500 men, or about the same number that were there some 40 years before. There were four types of settlements in which men of Spanish blood were to be found. Missions, procedios, civilian towns, or pueblos, and ranches. Today, one hears most of the missions, in part because of the writings of the friars, especially Palu, who left behind them ample

  records of their toil, but more particularly due to the fact that the mission ruins are the most obvious, most noteworthy, and most famous tangible remains of the Spanish era. Because the missions were also the principal constructive factor in the reduction of the Indians to Spanish rule, granted that the military were in a negative way still more essential for the retention of the province, they merit first place in any discussion of Spanish California

  institutions. Both in theory and in practice, the missions of Alta California resembled almost exactly those established elsewhere in the Americas by the Spaniards. The generalization already given in chapters 12 and 28 is therefore applicable to them. It may be noted that the Indians of Alta California were so backward that the absolute sway of the missionaries over them was, if anything, more pronounced than in many other mission fields. As elsewhere, the Indians

  were not compelled to accept Christianity, but once in the mission system, they could not leave it. They were required to give up their savage type of life and made to work at agriculture, stock raising, and menial tasks. During La Sueyne's presidency, they began to be taught certain forms of rough manufacturing and carpentry. In everything, their time was planned for and not by them. Acts of disobedience were punished by whippings or imprisonment. In the period of Serra and La Sueyne,

  when both missionary zeal and the peril of Indian uprisings were greater, the evidence would seem to indicate that the treatment was more kindly than afterward. For example, it was in later years that the practice became general for the missionaries to furnish Indian labor for work outside the missions. Even as early as 1786, La Perru, the French navigator, compared the missions to the Negro slave plantations of his own countrymen in Santo Domingo. He did indeed, in all sincerity,

  praise the missionaries, but said that they were enslaving the Indians in this life to save them in the next. He himself saw men and women in stocks or in irons, and also spoke of whippings. The missions of Alta California were the richest institutions in the province. They and their visitas possessed the best lands, and were almost entirely alone in cultivating the soil. Footnote. Best known of the visitas is Fala, often regarded mistakenly as having been one of the

  missions. In footnote, their flocks were easily the largest, wherefore they were in the best position to carry on the hide and tallow trade, which was the principal economic support of the province after 1810. Following the impulse given during the rule of Fr. La Sueyne, the missions attained to considerable importance in rude manufacturers, being without other competitors in the field. The Indians worked up the blankets and coarse fabrics of which they themselves made

  use. They tanned hides and made shoes in certain parts of saddles. The year 1798 was marked by the first appearance of homemade soap, a mission product like the rest. Coarse pottery was made at the missions, and flour mills were operated. When foreign traders came seeking hides and tallow, or perhaps a store of grain, they got the largest quantities and best quality at the missions, and paid for them with cloths of superior texture, fine wines and liquors, and other civilized

  articles, and even the best quality of the goods. The mission was the first of its kind, and other civilized articles such as could not be made in Alta California. This trade was against the law of both government and church, but the statutes were almost, if not quite, a dead letter. Indeed, the trade was necessary to the existence of the province, for some of the foreign goods were essential to a decent standard of living. And besides,

  the silks, satins, and laces, to say nothing of the cognac and champagne, made life infinitely more delightful. In this connection, it may be mentioned that the Alta California friars did not hold to the provision of the law forbidding them to permit white men, other than friars in the military guard, to stop at the mission overnight. Guests were in fact received, and often most lavishly entertained. It is obvious from the foregoing that the missionaries of Alta California

  were something more than teachers of religion. The wide powers of their administration made them virtual owners and managers of a vast economic plant. They were farmers, cattlemen, manufacturers, traders, and in a sense bankers and incapable, as well as preachers. In various of these capacities, they were also great employers of labor. Footnote. The question as to what becomes of the funds which the missionaries received is too much matter of controversy to permit of a categorical statement.

  It can hardly be doubted, however, that they were devoted to what, in the opinion of the missionaries, was most conducive to the accomplishments of the primary objects of the mission. The friars are reputed to have lived rather well themselves and to have displayed a generous hospitality to guests, but few would object to their enjoyment of these somewhat mild compensations for an otherwise unpleasant lot. Assertions have been made that they sent their

  surplus funds to the general treasury of their order, thus diverting them from the Indians. These assertions have, however, been vigorously denied. In the footnote. Passing over the matter of the relations of the missionaries with other Spanish elements in the province, as already discussed in chapters 12 and 28, one may ask the question whether the missions were successful. Considered narrowly from the standpoint of their primary objects,

  they were not. Indeed, they were fordoomed to failure. It is true that they did make Christians of many Indians, but the feeble intellects of the natives were utterly unable to penetrate the deeper meanings of the new religion. Theirs was always a rote Christianity and could not by any possibility have become more. The friars also taught the Indians a civilized mode of life, but this too, like the Catholic faith, did not and could not sink in. In later

  years, when the guiding hand of the missionary was withdrawn, most of the Indians either reverted to savagery or else reported to a drunken and bestial type of civilization. It is perhaps true that the mission system did prolong the life of the Indian tribes at the coast, but even so, the efforts in this direction were without permanent result. It has been estimated that in all California today, there are not more than some 15,000 Indians, and this includes the

  descendants of the far more numerous tribesmen who lived beyond the pale of the missions. The work of the Franciscans in Alta California was humanitarian in laudable degree, but its ultimate effect upon the Indians was nil. And yet, if one may judge institutions by their contributions to history, quite apart from the intentions which were the basis for their direction in their own day, it is impossible to regard the missions as anything but a great

  success. Possibly its greatest historical service in Alta California was the help it rendered in holding the province for the civilized world and more particularly for Spain and, as it proved, the United States. Even the kindliness which lay at the root of the institution was not wasted. It is the foundation upon which men of a later day have reared the structure of California history. It is the cornerstone of California art, literature, and sentiment.

  Less romantic than the missions in contemplation, the Presidios were, notwithstanding, at least negatively, the backbone of the province and the scene of happier associations than fell to the light of the institutions over which the friars presided. If the missionaries were an important agency in the scheme of Spanish conquest, the military were a scenic one known of the system. Without them, any extension as Spanish realms was impossible. In Alta California,

  they were few in number and inadequately equipped, but they were able to check the thousands of Indians in the province. They were also the principal element in the prevention of a foreign occupation which would have been disastrous for the aspirations of the ultimate possessors of Alta California. Some idea has already been given of the difficulties of foreign invaders would have had in conquering this distant part of the world unless they should

  have come in force. The mere presence of a garrison was, however, enough to prevent such an invasion, not through fear of failure in the attack, but through dislike of stirring up complications with Spain, which would have been the inevitable result. Thus, the Russians who might have conquered the province held back from so doing because of the friendly relations existing between their government and the court of Madrid. Even the English, who were desirous of gaining a

  foothold in Alta California, were not willing to provoke a war to secure their ends, and on the several occasions when war occurred, affairs in the North Pacific were of minor import since England found herself confronted at her very doors not only by Spain but also by France and other enemies. Reverting again to the services of the military within the province, they were an essential part to the missions themselves. Not a mission was founded without soldiers, and none

  existed without them. Usually, a corporal and five or six soldiers were assigned to each mission to protect the friars from their charges and to render other services. The procedios were the social and political centers of Alta California. In addition to the soldiers at the garrison, their families were also present. Later, others came and veritable towns sprang up. Recognizing this, the Spanish authorities established a formal pueblo or town government for the procedural

  establishments by a law of the year 1791. This went into effect in 1794. Monterrey, as the capital and residence of the governor, was the most important procedural town. It was the principal resort of provincial society, the place to which the rancher made his way and to which foreign navigators and traders paid their visits, though the latter indeed were well acquainted with the whole coast, especially with San Francisco. Life at the procedios was characterized first of all

  by attention to military affairs, but there was a much more agreeable side. Life was one continuous round of hospitality and social amenities tempered with vigorous outdoor sport. There were no hotels in California. Every door was open and food, lodging, and a fresh horse and money even were free to the guest, whether friend or stranger. No white man had to concern himself greatly with work and even school books were a thing apart. Music, games, dancing, and sprightly conversation,

  these were the occupations of the time. These constituted education. Also, men and women were much in the open. All were expert horsemen, could throw a lasso and shoot unerringly even the women, accomplishments which fitted their type of life and made hunting a general pastime. When foreign ships came, there were balls and the gayest of festivals, nor were these visits the only occasion for that type of entertainment."

  This paragraph, though written with respect to the province in general, is particularly applicable to the Presidial towns. There were, however, prominent vices. The Californians shared in the almost universal Hispanic-American proclivity for gambling. They drank heavily of very nearly raw liquor as well as of fine wines when they could get them. And they did not resist the temptations afforded by the proximity of the women of a subject race.

  On the other hand, there was a plenitude of romantic love-making among themselves in all earnest this, followed usually by an early marriage and the rearing of a large family. Economically, the procedures depended for many years on the Sambla ships. The need for supplies of food through this medium grew less and less until it disappeared, but goods and effects were always required. With the outbreak of the Spanish-American

  Wars of Independence in 1810, the supply ships ceased to come for a number of years and never again resumed irregular traffic. Then it was that the missions enabled the Presidios to get the things which formerly had been provided by the government. Foreign vessels supplied the goods, which were paid for with mission products. The Presidial commanders gave drafts on the Spanish treasury to the missionaries, and the drafts were never honored.

  Indian slavery, stock raising, agriculture, and illicit trade existed at the Presidios, but much less in proportion than in the other types of settlement, though commerce with foreign ships was, to a great extent, carried on at certain Presidial posts under the eyes of the soldiery. In fine, the Presidios were the principal centers in a world apart, a happy utopia from about 1782 to 1810. Even in those years, many things were always lacking. The garrison at San Francisco

  once had to borrow powder from a Russian ship in order that it might fire a salute. After 1810, however, the misery of the soldiers and the families must have outweighed the advantages of their comparative freedom from care. For ten years, they received no pay, and their lot was wretched indeed. Throughout the Spanish period, there was some communication with New Spain by way of the peninsula of Baja California, but this route was suitable only

  for carrying mail and for the infrequent comings of individual settlers. The Sambla ships and foreign vessels remained the principal connecting links with the outside world. Far less important than either Mission or Presidio were the Pueblos, or civilian towns. There were three of them, San Jose and Los Angeles, founded by Governor Neve, respectively, in 1771 and 1781, and Razaforte, founded by Governor Boracay in 1797. The last named was of such scant importance

  that its identity was eventually lost in that of the Mission, Santa Cruz, the name of which has been taken for the city now covering the sites of the former Mission and Pueblo. The inhabitants were of poorer quality than those of the Presidio towns and were of mongrel racial types. The original settlers of Los Angeles, for example, had far more Indian and Negro blood than white, though all were part Spanish. Not one of them could read or write. By all accounts, they were a

  dissolute, immoral, lazy gambling lot. Between 1792 and 1795, the Pueblos received an increase in population through the sending of a number of artisans from Mexico. These artisans were also criminals. Present-day Californians need not feel in the least surprised or shocked by these details. No pioneer country in real life is ever very lovely, especially if the inhabitants are unwilling settlers. Nor should the modest character of certain of the Spanish Californians

  lessen one's pride in the greatness of their services. The case of Australia is in many respects a parallel. Some of the most capable men in Australia today are said to be descendants of criminals who were members of the penal colony at Botany Bay about a century ago. Many of the English settlers of the West Indies and what are now the southern states of this country were quite as poor timber as the Spanish Californians. In the early years following

  their establishment, the Pueblos were maintained at state expense and the settlers even received the pay and rations of soldiers. Later, they were required to subsist by their own efforts through the products of their stock raising and agriculture. In times of need, they were to serve as militia. As usually happens in the healthful atmosphere of the frontier, there gradually evolved the decent element and this was perhaps the first time that they or their families had

  had an opportunity. They were always looked down upon, however, by the upper class society of Monterey and the other Presidial towns. It was not until 1817 that the first beam of educational light penetrated the murky depths of Pueblo ignorance. In that year, a school was opened in Los Angeles. In the following year, San Jose's first school was established. Life in general resembled that of the Presidial towns, but was on a much lower social plane.

  Least important of the types of settlements in Spanish days were the private ranches, but they should not be left out in any account of the pre-American beginnings of the Golden State. Of the some 600 so-called Spanish land grants, the overwhelming majority dated from the Mexican era. The Spanish government was unfavorable to the institution, preferring that the settlers should live in communities the better to ensure defense and the preservation of order. Some 20 such grants

  were made in the Spanish period, however, usually to retired Presidial officers. The law provided that grants were to be not more than three square leagues, about 12 square miles, and they were not to infringe upon the lands of Missions, Pueblos, or Indian towns. One of the most famous of these grants was that given to Luis Peralta in 1820. Little did the Spanish soldier who received it realize how his estates would appear at the end of a century. Today, there are hundreds of thousands

  of people upon them, for the thriving cities of Alameda, Oakland, and Berkeley have been carved out of the old Peralta holdings. On them, too, are the grounds of one of the largest educational plants in the United States, the University of California. The laws were not always carried out to the letter in awarding grants, especially those affecting boundaries. Vast as were their estates, the ranchers wanted more. In the Mexican period, they were indeed given larger areas, receiving as

  much as 11 square leagues, about 38 square miles. What they wanted most of all was the particularly good land and the control of the missionaries. Naturally, the missionaries resented the ranchers encroachments, and there was a never-ending quarrel between them. On his ranch, the owner was like a little king with many Indian dependents. The sole economic basis of the ranch was stock. Of agriculture, there was none. After 1828, when the Mexican government granted freedom of trade, the ranchers

  became wealthy from their sales of hides and tallow to the foreign ships. On the rare occasions when the visitors or wayfarers stopped at a ranch, the owner entertained bountifully. His home and everything in it were at the disposal of his guests. It was even the custom to leave money in the guest chamber, which the visitor was expected to take if he needed it, thus delicately obviating the necessity of a verbal request for help. When the guest left, he could count on receiving a

  horse to carry him along his way. Except for occasional trips to Monterey or some other town, this was all that there was of social amenities in the life of the rancher. The political system of Alta California was that of an absolutism. The fundamental documents were the already discussed Echeveste Reglamento of 1773, the Instructions to Rivera 1773 and Neve 1776, and especially the Neve Reglamento of 1779, which ruled in the province for more than 40 years.

  The governor was the military and political head, uniting all the functions of government in his own person, executive, legislative, and judicial. According to the changes of jurisdiction, he was subject either to the viceroy or the commandant general in military and political affairs, but to the audencia of Guadalajara in judicial matters. Owing to the greatness in distance and time separating him from the viceroyalty,

  he was in fact a veritable dictator. A strong viceroy like Buccarelli could impose his will upon him, but otherwise there was very slight control by the authorities in New Spain, though their right to it was absolute. Subject to the governor, the captains of the procedios exercised in their own district the same type of authority that the governor did in the province, with the reservation of a right of appeal to the governor in certain cases.

  With a like appeal to the governor, the corporals at the missions had authority over their men and criminal jurisdiction over the Indians. They frequently clashed with the missionaries as to the dividing line where the power of the corporals ceased and that of the missionaries began. The pueblos, in theory, had a measure of independence which they did not possess in fact. Just as the medieval Spanish kings established their authority in towns throughout their agents,

  the corregadores, so did the governors set up theirs in Alta California by placing comisionados, commissioners, of their own appointment in the pueblos. They were supposed to represent the governor and to administer justice. In practice, their word was law save only in the case of an appeal to the governor. With the consent of the comisionado, or at least in such matters as he did not oppose, certain local officials might act. These were the alcaldes,

  a kind of mayor and petty justice combined, though in Spanish California the comisionado more often exercised the judicial power, and the regadores, or members of the town council. The missionaries had the power of the father of a family over the Indians at the mission, amounting to economic ownership of the Indians and extensive civil authority exercised with the aid of Indian alcaldes, whom they virtually selected, though in theory the Indians themselves elected

  them. The governor had superior rights in criminal jurisdiction, military affairs, and matters of general policy, but otherwise was not supposed to intervene. Within the sphere of his powers, the father president was absolute, subject, however, to the College of San Fernando in Mexico. The individual missionaries had a similar power, subject to their father president at their missions. So much has already been said of the social and economic factors in the life of

  Alta California that a bare summary will suffice here. With respect to the former, it should be pointed out that there was never anything approaching a democratic, dead level in the society of the province, such as was the case in the western territories of the United States. There were very marked social differences, based on rank, usually military, and blood, and very distinctly there was a Spanish-Californian aristocracy, most or all of

  whose members lived in the Presidial towns or on the ranches. As affecting the blood of the inhabitants, it is to be noted that Alta California became a veritable haven for foreign white sailors, who came for short intervals, or toward the end of the Spanish period, but more particularly in later years, to reside permanently in the province. In part, due to their advent, the Indian and Negro blood of the Mestizos tended gradually to disappear.

  The economic basis of Alta California was, for many years, that of government aid. A little help from Baja California was received at the outset. Afterwards, there was nothing from that quarter. The short period in which the Anzarute was used enabled the province to procure indispensable assistance, and down to 1810, the San Blas ships came regularly. Stock raising and agriculture at the missions early began to help in the problem of subsistence.

  Later, the same occupations developed at the pueblos, though in less degree than at the missions, and a stock raising industry came into being at the ranches. The sale of hides and tallow and food supplies to foreign ships was the foundation for a beginning of commerce, which made up for the eventual failure of the San Blas boats. Through these foreign vessels, Alta California first came in contact with luxuries,

  as well as with other more essential articles of manufacture. The intellectual attainments of the Spanish Californians do not call for protracted description. Education, when it existed at all, was made up of little more than instruction in the catechism and reading and writing. A large proportion of the Spanish-blooded population was wholly unlettered. There were no regular schools. By fits and starts, the various settlements would hire

  or dispense with a teacher who assuredly could not have pretended to be a master at his trade. The Californians had little idea of events or conditions in the world outside. The United States was habitually referred to as Boston, since the American vessels were almost invariably Boston ships. In the art of conversation, dancing, and the playing of simple musical instruments, especially the guitar, they were indeed accomplished. These things they drank

  in with their mother's milk as part of their heritage from Spain. This, then, was that out of the world, Alta California, unconscious of its destiny and of the really important part it was playing. These, then, were the principal institutions in which Morse Stevens has called, that Spanish background against which is now reared one of the proudest and most self-conscious states of the United States of America.

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• 31 - The Romantic Period, 1782-1810

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  CHAPTER XXXI. THE ROMANTIC PERIOD. 1782-1810. If there is any period of California history with respect to which one has a right to relegate matters of great import to a secondary place and to deal primarily with the affairs of the moment, that embraced by the years 1782 to 1810 may very well be selected. Before that time, the problems of making and conserving the Spanish establishments and of bare existence

  were too absorbing to permit of anything else outstripping them in the eyes of the inhabitants themselves or in the writings of posterity. After 1810, internal difficulties multiplied, and notable events took place which demand attention because of their effect on the ultimate destiny of the province, wherefore pleasant gossip takes its usual place in the background. Even in the years of the Romantic period, there were happenings of note. This was the

  time of the Nutca affair, when the long Spanish advance was stopped. This was the era of the awakening of foreign interest, when the English, Russians, and Americans had their earliest contacts with Alta California. And these were the years when, within the province, the questions of subsistence and of settled life were resolved. Yet all of these matters were either the tag-ins of what had gone before, or else the mere beginnings of greater affairs to come, and

  they may be treated more appropriately at the same time with events of earlier or later periods. By 1782, the last group of settlers who had come by the Anza route had established themselves in their new homes. In that year, too, the fiery but lovable Catalan Pedro Fagas arrived to begin his second term of office as governor of the province. In 1810 came the outbreak

  of the Spanish-American Wars of Independence, which brought about a cessation of the voyage of the San Blas boats. It is the function of this chapter to record some of the occurrences in the intervening years, which seemed interesting at the time to the Spanish Californians themselves. Governor Fagas, some years before, had married Eulalia de Caís, a Catalan lady of quality who was even more of a firebrand than was the good Dom Pedro himself. When Fagas went

  to Alta California for the second time, Doña Eulalia and her son Pedro remained behind. Fagas very much wanted them to be with him, and wrote a number of letters which have a particularly modern sound in their demonstration of the meager reach of his marital authority. For example, he wrote to Captain Jose Antonio de Romeo in Sonora to use his influence to induce Doña Eulalia to come. Evidently, he despaired of his own powers of persuasion.

  Doña Eulalia at first refused, but both Neve and Romeo joined forces to assure her that Alta California was not wholly barbarous, wherefore she consented to join her husband As far as Loreto, she was escorted by Captain Joaquín Cañete. There, in May 1782, she was met by Fagas. Between July 1782 and January 1783, Doña Eulalia made the long journey to Monterey. The whole trip was something in the nature of a royal progress, for there was

  a succession of receptions in her honor given by the missionaries, soldiers, settlers, and even the Indians. Indeed, her coming was a great event. Not only was she the wife of the governor, but she was also the first lady of rank and social standings who had ever visited the province. However, Doña Eulalia may have enjoyed the attention showered upon her, she was shocked by conditions as she found them. In particular, she was distressed by the number of

  naked Indians that she saw. Thereupon, she began impulsively to give away both her own clothes and those of Don Pedro, until a ladder pointed out to her that she could not replenish their wardrobe. There were no shops in Alta California. That checked Doña Eulalia's reckless generosity, though it is true that she continued to deserve a reputation for charity. She managed to endure Alta California until after the birth of her daughter on August 3, 1784.

  Then she announced that she had had enough, and straight away there was trouble. Unable to persuade Don Pedro to allow her to pack herself and her children off to New Spain, Doña Eulalia resorted to coercive measures against her legal lord and master. She exiled him from her apartments, and during three months made him keep his distance, hardly so much as communicating with him. Finding that Fagas did not respond to absent treatment, Doña Eulalia became suspicious and at

  length convinced, though without justifiable grounds, that Fagas was paying altogether too much attention to a servant girl whom he had picked up among the Indians of the Colorado. Thereupon she broke silence with Fagas and accused him of infidelity and a torrent of words. Moreover, she rushed into the street and told everybody vowing that she would get a divorce. The friars tried to reconcile her and said that they found no grounds for a divorce.

  She responded that she would go to the Infierno Hill before she would go again to Fagas. The friars ordered her to stay home in seclusion for a while and to do no more talking. The above incident took place in February 1785. It came at a time when Fagas was obliged by gubernatorial duty to make a trip to the south. He therefore asked Father Noriega to take care of Doña Eulalia at Mission San Carlos during his absence. Father Noriega consented and sent for

  Doña Eulalia, but she refused to go, locking herself and her babies in her room. Then the much-tried Dom Pedro showed his temper. He broke down the door and when his gentle helpmeet still refused to go to the mission, threatened to tie her up and take her. So Doña Eulalia went. She made the friars pay for her humiliation. During her stay at the mission, they could not manage her at all. She put on display some of her outbreaks in the church itself to the great

  scandal of all who witnessed them. Indeed, the friars became so much out of patience with her that at one time they threatened to flog her and put her in chains. They did not yield to the impulse, however. At length, after a quarrel of about a year, Fagas and his wife were reconciled in September 1785. The governor had desired it all along, for he was in fact devoted to Doña Eulalia. The latter became satisfied that her charges against Fagas were unfounded and consented

  to return to him. From this time forth there is no further evidence of untoward incidents between them, but it is likely under the circumstances that they occurred, for Doña Eulalia did not give up her attempts to get away from Alta California. In the very next month, after their reconciliation, she wrote a petition to the Audencia of Guadalajara asking for Fagas's removal on the alleged ground of his ill health. Fagas did not know of the petition until after it had

  been sent. He then made every effort to head it off and was successful. The documents do not say what happened in the meantime at the gubernatorial residence. Doña Eulalia seems finally to have won the fight. Early in 1790, Fagas himself asked to be relieved. His petition was granted and José Antonio de Romeo was appointed in his place. In the fall of 1790, as soon as the news reached Monterrey, Eulalia and her children took the San Blas boat and left the province. Fagas had been

  told that he need not await the coming of the successor, but he stayed on for another year until October or November 1791. He probably joined his family in Mexico City and is supposed to have died in 1796. Pedro Fagas was a man of no inconsiderable ability and even intellectual capacity. His reports merit more study than they have yet received. Not only are they full of information about the province, but many are also well organized and well written. He had many

  amiable and appealing qualities. He was brave, energetic and dashing and was also conscientious. He was exceedingly fond of children. They could count on him for sweets, which he carried about with him in his pockets for their delectation. He was indeed hot-tempered, who can blame him, but his exhibitions of temper served only to bring out by contrast the essential generosity and kindliness of his nature. Furthermore, he was devoted to Alta California and not eager to get

  away as his predecessors had been. This love for the province had one of its manifestations in the interest he took in his estate at Monterey. He had an orchard of some 600 fruit trees, beside shrubs and grape vines, and was proud of it. Altogether, Californians should remember Pedro Fagas as one of the best governors of the Spanish era. Much has already been said about Alta California's problems concerning the food supply and domestic animals. Prices current in

  Fagas time helped show that these difficulties had been pretty well solved. Counting the peso is equivalent to the dollar, but remembering the very great difference between the value of money then and now, some figures may be given for the purposes of illustration. Horses cost from three to nine dollars, but saddles were more expensive, twelve to sixteen dollars. Sheep brought 75 cents to two dollars. Mules were worth from fourteen to twenty dollars. They served as beasts of burden,

  which were always less numerous and more in demand than other animals, and therefore more costly. The price of meat may well make any modern housekeeper sigh. One could get a dozen quail for 25 cents. Jerk beef was worth three cents a pound, and fresh beef only a penny. Eggs, however, were high at 24 cents a dozen. One of the most interesting, as well as most important features of the closing years of the 18th century was the coming of foreign ships to Alta California.

  Down to 1786, none but Spanish vessels had visited the province, but in that year, a famous French voyager, the already mentioned Comté de la Peru, put in at Monterey and made the beginnings of Spanish California's communication with the outside world. La Peru had been sent out by the French government on a voyage of exploration and scientific discovery around the world, but he was also to be on the lookout for lands which might eventually become French colonies.

  He was instructed to find out the condition, force, and aim of the Spanish settlements in the Californians, note at what degree of latitude the fur trade began, and report on the facilities there might be for French establishments north of Monterey. Leaving France in August 1785, La Peru followed Cook's route around South America to the Hawaiian islands and the northwest coast, which he touched on July 4, 1786, at 58 degrees 37 minutes. Proceeding down the coast,

  he reached Monterey on September 14, 1786, staying only until the 24th. He met with a most generous reception on the part of the Governor Fagas, Father President La Sueyne, and others. The Spanish settlers at first refused to take pay for the supplies he procured from them. At length, they consented, but would not take much. There were entertainments to the limit of the province's capability. One can well imagine that Doña Eulalia must have been at

  her best on these occasions. La Peru and his companions made good use of their 10-day stay by getting an adequate idea of conditions in the province. Indeed, their description has been characterized as one of the most remarkable ever made for its accuracy, comprehensiveness, and kindly fairness. There was much in it of scientific character about geography, climate, resources, and Indians. The military and political functions and the mission system

  were also covered. They looked forward to a great future for Alta California, but felt that progress would be slow under Spanish rule. The fur trade was the only immediate economic prospect, they said, and gave their further opinion that it would be a century or perhaps two centuries before Alta California would attract the attention of maritime powers. They could not foresee the discovery of gold, which was to hasten the development of the Pacific

  Coast. Leaving Alta California, La Peru crossed over to China. In 1788, he was in New Zealand. This was the last that was ever heard of him. Undoubtedly, his ship and all on board were lost in one of the many unrecorded disasters of maritime history. Fortunately for posterity, he had just previously forwarded his journal to France. In 1788, the first American ships appeared on the coast of the Californias,

  though far north of the settled part in Alta California. These were the Columbia and Lady Washington, commanded respectively by Captains James Kendrick and Robert Gray, the first American navigators to sail in the waters of the Pacific. Their principal interest in the present account is the attitude of the Spanish authorities toward them. In May 1789, acting on advices from New Spain, Governor Fagas wrote to José Darío Aguayo, commander of the Presidio of San Francisco,

  warning him that a boat called the Columbia, which is said to belong to General Washington, had entered the Pacific with a companionship in order to make discoveries and inspect the existing Russian settlements. Aguayo was ordered to capture these vessels if they should come to San Francisco. This document is the earliest reference to the United States that has thus far been found in the annals of Alta California. From this time forward, mention of the United

  States was more frequent. As already stated, the term Boston usually served for the entire country on the opposite coast of the continent. For example, an Indian from Newtka who was baptized at Soledad in May 1793 was described as the son of an Indian killed by Captain Gray of the ship Lady Washington, belonging to the Congress of Boston. As for Kendrick and Gray, they avoided the dire fate that may have been in store for them by failing to make port in Alta California.

  Gray is believed to have first reached coast off the northern part of what is now the state of California. This he did on August 2nd, 1788. Thence he proceeded northward to Newtka, where presently he was joined by Kendrick in the Columbia. In the next year, Gray transferred to the Columbia, took her to China where he picked up a cargo of tea, and went on around the world, arriving in Boston in 1790, this being the first time that a ship flying the American flag had

  ever encircled the globe. It was not long afterward that an American did come to Alta California. He was a member of the famous Spanish voyage of discovery of the descubierta and atrevida under the command of Alejandro Malaspina. Malaspina had left Spain in 1789 with the object of making scientific explorations in various lands of the Pacific. After a considerable stay in South America, he struck from the northwest coast of the northern

  continent, which he reached above 60 degrees. Here his principal object was to decide, once and for all, whether the much-talked Strait of Añon in fact existed. He therefore made careful surveys of the coast all the way down to Monterey, which he reached on September 13th, 1791. In his ship's company was a certain John Grohm, Ram Groom, who is described as having come originally from Boston. He had shipped at Cadiz as a gunner. This man, the first American to

  reach Alta California, came there to stay. He was landed at Monterey and buried on the day of Malaspina's arrival. As for Malaspina, he departed from Alta California capital on the 25th of September. It was only a few weeks after this event that Romeo took over from Phagas, the government of the province. Nothing of special interest occurred during Romeo's brief rule. The new governor was in poor health. In 1792 he died and Jose Joaquin de Arriaga, at the time

  governor of Baja California, became acting governor of the northern province, a post which he held for two years. Arriaga, who was again to be governor in full proprietorship at a later time, from 1802 to 1814, deserves at least passing notice as a respectable figure in California history. He was a native of the Basque province of Guipúscuá in Spain, but had served for many years in the New World. He was honest, of excellent character in private life, and a devout Christian.

  In that he knew how to obey orders to the letter and execute them, he was efficient. But there was nothing of initiative or originality about him. He was severely criticized by the English navigator George Vancouver, but rarely by others. In all, he was not a great governor, but was a worthy one. It was during the earlier administration of Arriaga that the three visits of Vancouver to Alta California were made.

  The Newtka Controversy of 1789 to 1794 brought many vessels, mostly Spanish, to Alta California. Footnote. During these five years, the Spanish government maintained a post at Newtka, the farthest north that the Spanish settlements in the old Californias ever reached. In footnote. On November 14, 1792, Vancouver, who had come down the coast from Newtka, entered San Francisco Bay on his ship the Discovery, the first vessel other than those

  of the Spaniards which had ever put in at that port. A few days later, a second English ship, the Cheatham, under William Broughton, entered the bay, ere Menengil do Sal was, for the moment, in command at San Francisco. He gave the visiting sailors a most cordial reception, and furnished them with supplies for which he would take no pay, though he did accept, on behalf of the Presidio admission, certain implements and ornaments, and a hogshead each

  of wine and rum. During Vancouver's stay of twelve days, there were many entertainments. On one occasion, too, the English commander was permitted to go down the peninsula to the mission at Santa Clara. Leaving San Francisco on November 26, Vancouver entered the Bay of Monterey on the 27th. There he found another of his own fleet, the Daedalus, and various Spanish ships under Bodega. Jose Dario Arguello was temporarily in charge, in the absence of Governor

  Arriaga, and he provided entertainment for his visitors on the greatest scale that Alta California had yet known. During the some fifty days of Vancouver's stay, there was a never-ending show of hospitality, both at the Presidio and at the mission. As the English vessels prepared to depart, they were again furnished with supplies free of charge. Among other things, the Daedalus received a cargo of cattle which it took to Australia. These were to be the first animals of that type

  in the Great Island continent. On January 15, 1793, both the English ships and the Spanish sailed away. Arriaga had been in Baja California during the period of Vancouver's visit. When he heard of the cordial reception which had been extended to the English navigator and his companions, he was greatly displeased, especially because of the trip to Santa Clara which Sal had permitted Vancouver to make. The laws stipulated certain precautions against the

  entry of foreign ships, and against their discovering the real weakness of the Spanish establishments. As a temporary governor, Arriaga wished to take as little positive action as possible, and merely hold the province, as it were, for the official who would soon succeed him. The courtesies to Vancouver, he feared, might call down a reprimand upon himself. He therefore issued orders that they were not to be repeated in the future.

  Foreign vessels could be furnished with supplies, but that was all. In the spring of 1793, Vancouver returned from the Hawaiian Islands and spent several months exploring the coasts of New Albion, as with Britannic persistence he insisted on calling the Californias, with a view to perpetuating the name applied by Drake. At length he turned south, and on October 19th entered the San Francisco Bay, eagerly looking forward to more pleasures

  like those he had experienced the year before. His expectations were doomed to meet with a rude shock. He himself was treated courteously, but his men were not allowed to land, and he was asked about the object and length of his stay. Incensed at this treatment, Vancouver requested an explanation, and it was informed that it was done at Governor Arriaga's orders. After a stay of five days, Vancouver left San Francisco. On November 1st he was at

  Monterey. This time his stay did not drag on into weeks and months. It lasted just four days. The San Francisco reception was repeated, possibly with a little more strictness, since Arriaga himself was then at Monterey. In his anger at the Spanish governor, Vancouver has represented the situation as worse than it was. In fact, he was allowed to buy supplies on credit, land his men for exercise daytimes, though at a stipulated place,

  procure wooden water and take astronomical observations. On November 10th, Vancouver reached Santa Barbara, where Felipe de Goicoecho was in command. The same sorts of restrictions were met with, but the Spanish official chose to interpret them more liberally. Indeed, Vancouver was received so much more cordially than he'd expected that he remained there eight days, and spoke of his stay at Santa Barbara in glowing terms. Going south,

  he stopped the day at Ventura, and then sailed on to San Diego, which he reached on November 27th. Here again, Arriaga's regulations were applied in a generous spirit. After a visit of 12 days, Vancouver set sail on December 9th for the Hawaiian Islands. In 1794, coming from Newtka, Vancouver paid his third and last visit to Alta California. This time, he did not have to encounter the literal-minded Arriaga. Reaching Monterey on

  November 6th, he found his old friend Jose Dario Arguello in command. On the 9th or the 11th, Diego Borica, the new governor, arrived. Many courtesies were extended by these officers, and things were made so pleasant for Vancouver that he remained for nearly a month until December 2nd. Then, having taken on board a stock of provisions, he set sail for England by way of Cape Horn, exploring the coasts of South America as he went. In other days, these activities,

  as well as his earlier presence along the upper California's coast, would have been the signal for a series of Spanish voyages and conquests in avoidance of the English peril. That time had passed, however, and Vancouver's visits take their place merely in the group of interesting but unimportant incidents in the history of the province. Vancouver, like La Peru, was much impressed by the natural advantages of Alta California, but criticized the Spaniards

  for their failure to make due use of their surroundings, marvelling at the weakness of their establishments. Alta California's greatest need, he said, was the stimulus of commerce, so as to create new wants and new industries and give new value to lands and produce. With the exception of the Santa Barbara Indians, he characterized the natives as the most miserable race he had ever seen. For the friars, who had always received him well, he had nothing but

  words of enthusiastic praise. Other Spaniards, too, impressed him favorably as individuals, save only Arriaga, upon whom he fairly emptied the vials of his wrath. Diego Borica, who had taken over the government at the time of Vancouver's last visit, was one of the most attractive figures of Spanish days, and should rank next after Neve and Fagas among the best governors of that period.

  Like his immediate predecessor, he was a Basque, but from the province of Alava. After a long military career in New Spain, he had risen to the rank of lieutenant colonel at the time of his appointment to Alta California. Later, he received a colonelcy. Borica was a most jovial character. His letters, even in his official correspondence, are teeming with wit and good humor. He seems also to have been a convivial diner. Vancouver, Puget,

  one of Vancouver's officers, Alava, and Fidalgo, Spanish naval officers, were all good fellows, he once declared, but no better than he before a dozen of Rhine wine port or Madeira. With characteristic optimism, too, he took delight in his surroundings, which many of his predecessors had been far from appreciating. To live much and without care, he once wrote, come to Monterey. Within a few weeks of his arrival, he penned the following

  glowing description. Quote, This is a great country, climate healthful between cold and temperate, good bread, excellent meat, tolerable fish, and bone humor, which is worth all the rest. Plenty to eat, but the most astounding is the general fecundity both of the rationals and irrationals. The climate is so good that all are getting to look like Englishmen. Footnote. That is, fairer in features than was usual in Spanish America. In footnote. This is the most

  peaceful and quiet country in the world. One lives better here than in the most cultured court of Europe. In quote. Footnote. From the translation in Bancroft. This is in fact made up of excerpts from several letters. In footnote. Unfortunately, no very thorough going study has yet been made of Borica's career. The student who approaches it will most certainly find it replete with human interest. During Borica's term, which lasted from 1794 to 1800, a number

  of foreign ships visited the province. After Vancouver, there came the English ship Phoenix in 1795, commanded by Thomas Moore. The Phoenix stopped at Santa Barbara only. In 1796, William Broughton, coming from Newtka in the Discovery, touched at Monterey. In that same year, the first United States vessel ever to anchor in Alta California ports put in appearance. This was the naval vessel Otter of six guns and 26 men, commanded by Ebenezer Doerr. The Otter was at

  Monterey from October 29th to November 6th, where it took on a supply of wooden water. Doerr asked permission to put ashore some English sailors, a request that Borica was of course obliged to refuse. Doerr left them anyway, ten men and women, who were in fact convicts from Botany Bay. In the light of the courtesies which he had extended, Borica quite naturally regarded this act as dishonorable. He put the men to work and later sent the whole group to New Spain.

  In 1799, Captain James Rowan and the Eliza stopped at San Francisco, and in 1800, Captain Charles Winship of the Betsy put in at San Diego. Both ships were American. A number of other foreign vessels passed up and down the coast but did not make port. Meanwhile, the Spanish vessels from San Blas and Manila came in or went by as usual. Borica's administration was one of general progress rather than of outstanding events. All ranks of society received aid and

  encouragement. This was the era of La Suez's greatest activity as father president, rendered possible by the harmonious and friendly relations between him and the governor. In this period, the social life of Monterey was in one of its most interesting stages. Not only did the governor contribute to make it so, but so also did his wife, a wealthy woman, and daughter, both of whom were popular. When his term expired, he sailed from San Diego for

  New Spain in January 1800. Going to Durango, he died there on July 19th of the same year. Pedro de Alberni, commander of the Catalan Company, succeeded the governorship on the departure of Borica. Nothing of note seems to have happened during his brief rule. Alberni himself seems to have been a popular governor. He died at Monterey in 1802. Ariaga now came into power for the second time and remained in command until his death at Soledad

  Mission in 1814. Almost at the outset, on June 26th, 1803, the old father president, Fermin Francisco de la Suez, passed away. In the next year came the final separation of Alta and Baja California. Other events of Ariaga's term may in the main be treated elsewhere, with a mere mention here of their general character. From this time forward, great numbers of foreign vessels visited the province. Fur traders, whalers, seekers of hides and tallow, practically all

  of them engaged, to a greater or less extent, in contraband trade. Eventually, most of these ships came to be American, owing to the diversion affected by the Napoleonic Wars in Europe, which, fortunately for the Americas, call forth the entire efforts and resources of the great overseas colonizing powers. Spanish explorations beyond the coast range became more or less frequent to the accompaniment now and then of battles with the Indians. The Russians appeared

  along the Alta California coast and in 1812 founded settlements north of San Francisco Bay. Considerably farther north, the English were making slow progress across the continent in an advance which was not long afterward to bring the Hudson's Bay Company within the boundaries of Alta California itself. And in 1810 came the beginning of the already mentioned Spanish-American Wars of Independence. The activities of the Russians in Alta California

  are much more important as affecting the eventual American occupation than as concerns the purely local narrative of Spanish and Mexican days. Wherefore, it may more properly be left for treatment to the historian of American California. There is one incident, however, which belongs to Spain and contemporary romance. This is the story of the courtship of Razanov, the Russian, and Concepcion Arguello. Something has already been said about the advance of the

  Russians across Siberia and of their voyages to Alaskan waters, culminating in the founding of Sitka in 1799. In Alaska, they experienced in even greater degree than had the Spaniards in Alta California the difficulties attending settlement in a new and distant land. They found furs in abundance, but lacked food supplies and could not themselves produce them in the quality and amount required. This explains the Russian voyages to Alta California. That province

  was the nearest point from which they could obtain the food on which their very lives depended. Early in the century, the Russians in the frozen north began to hear tales of sunny California from English and American traders. In 1805, Nikolai Petrovich Razanov, imperial inspector and plenipotentiary of the Russian-American company, reached Sitka charged with the duty of investigating and improving the Russian colonies. He came to Sitka at a time of great

  distress and famine at that settlement, reminding one of the early days in Alta California. One of the two Russian supply ships had been wrecked, and the other for that year did not come. There was very little food on hand and no way to get more. People began to eat eagles, crows, devil fish, and almost anything that teeth could bite. And, as a result, scurvy and death made their appearance. To add to their misery, the colonists were in the midst of a season of

  cold rains. Luckily for them, the American ship Juno under Captain Wolff put in at Sitka. Razanov bought both the ship and the entire cargo. The relief was substantial, but was only temporary. Razanov, therefore, decided to take the Juno and go to Alta California in search of supplies. Accompanied by the surgeon and naturalist, Dr. Georg Heinrich von Langsdorff, Razanov left Sitka on March 8, 1806. Nearly all of the crew had scurvy, and the voyage was a race with death.

  On April 5, the Juno approached the entrance to San Francisco Bay. This was an anxious moment. Would the Spaniards try to stop them? But Razanov was desperate and resolved to pass the port at any risk. The story goes that the Spanish guard called out, What ship is that? Russian, answered Razanov. Let go your anchor, came the orders from the shore. Yes, sir, yes, sir, Razanov replied, but kept the ship going until it was well inside the harbor

  and out of range. There he was safe, for there was not so much as a rowboat within the bay. The entry into the bay of San Francisco was against Spanish law, as Razanov knew well. Naturally, therefore, he felt considerable apprehension over the success of his mission. He had to get supplies. But in the light of his disregard of the challenge from the fort, would the Spaniards furnish them? It would not do, either, to make known how weak were the Russian settlements.

  Spain and Russia were not at that time so friendly as they became after Napoleon's invasion of the Spanish peninsula in 1808, and the existence of Russian Alaska might be endangered if the Spaniards knew what an easy prey it would be. Finding that no boats came out to the Juno, Razanov at length sent Langsdorf and Lieutenant Davidoff offshore. They were met by Louis Arguello in temporary command at San Francisco in the absence of Jose Dario, his father. With Arguello was Father

  Francisco Uriah of the mission. It is said that Langsdorf and Uriah carried on the conversation in Latin since none of the four knew both Spanish and Russian. This would seem to cast some doubt on the tale about Razanov's manner of passing the fort when he entered the bay. At any rate, the Russians were well received. It happened that orders had arrived telling of a Russian voyage of discovery around the world and calling upon the authorities in Alta California to treat the foreign

  navigators with courtesy if they should come to the province. Arguello had at first believed that the Juno might be one of the ships in question, so he entertained Razanov and his officers at the Arguello home. There, Razanov explained that the ships of which Arguello had been informed had returned to Russia. Wishing to make an impression, he announced that he himself was the ruler of the Russian possessions in North America, and said that he had come to Alta California to consult the

  governor about mutual interests. He was silent concerning his real object. To procure supplies to keep the Russians in the north from starving, Leste might compromise his chances of getting a cargo. He did not mention his urgent need and did not ask to buy provisions, but he did make gifts to all who might help his cause, not merely to win their favor, but also to advertise the goods aboard the Juno. This policy met with initial success. The friars of various missions offered

  to barter food for some of the effects he had, if Governor Ariaga's consent could be obtained. The news of Razanov's arrival having reached Monterey, the governor himself came up to San Francisco. Both Razanov and Ariaga could talk French, so negotiations now proceeded more easily. There followed a battle of wits between the two men in which the Spaniard must be admitted to have carried off the honors. He succeeded in drawing out of Razanov that he wanted food supplies,

  but the Russian claimed that he desired them only as samples to see if they were adapted to Alaska, and also urged the advantages of a mutual trade. Stickler, for the letter of the law that he was, Ariaga was about to refuse his consent to the proposed exchange, saying that he could not take a violation of the statutes on his conscience. It was at this moment that there intervened a powerful factor to save the day for Razanov. This new element was none other than a comely young

  woman, daughter of the commander of San Francisco, Concepcion Arguell. The story is told by Razanov's companion, Langsdorff. He draws a contrast between Alaska with its starvation and other hardships and its hideous squads, and Alta California where life ran the gamut of contentment in the abundance of things that were pleasurable and the happy indolence of the inhabitants. Here there was plenty to eat and drink, tobacco to smoke,

  much writing by day and unlimited sleep at all hours. Here were fair women the joy of the dance and the much indulged in gentle art of making love. Naturally, the mind of Razanov was disposed to be impressed, and all the more so when he beheld Concepcion Arguell, the acknowledged beauty among the young women of the province. Razanov was indeed captivated by the lovely Concepcion, but there is a blot on the escutcheon of his famous romance. It was inextricably interwoven

  with Razanov's game of diplomacy to get food. According to the English version of Langsdorff's account, quote, the bright eyes of Dona Concepcion had made a deep impression upon his heart, and he conceived that an actual union with the daughter of the commandant at San Francisco would be a vast step gained toward promoting the political objects he had so much at heart. He had therefore nearly come to a resolution to sacrifice himself by this marriage to the welfare,

  as he hoped, of the two countries of Spain and Russia, end quote. If Razanov's love was somewhat self-contained, it would seem from this that it was, nevertheless, sincere. If he meant to use it to obtain his diplomatic ends, he also intended to carry on the courtship to its culmination in marriage. As for Concepcion, there was no doubt at all about her attitude, she was only sixteen, and she was not satisfied with the narrow bounds of her life in faraway

  Alta California. Razanov made famous and rapid progress, both in love and, it would seem, in Spanish, spurred on by the delightful incentive of a bewitching young woman to talk to. Wiley suitor that he was, he recounted the glories of the court at St. Petersburg, stories that lost nothing in the telling. It was not long before he realized that he had this particular phase of this campaign well under control, as he tells it, quote,

  I am perceptibly created in her and in patience to hear something serious from me on the subject, end quote. At the psychological moment he became duly serious and was quickly accepted. Thereupon he faced the next hurdle, that of the family and the friars, who interposed objections on the ground that Razanov was of a different religious faith and that in any event he would carry Concepcion away from them to Russia. Eventually the consent of the parents and the

  religious was accorded, provided that permission for the marriage might be obtained from the pope. So much for the courtship in itself. Meanwhile, it had all along been serving Razanov's more mundane purposes. Concepcion was in a position to know what her father and the governor were saying about his trading prospects and she passed the information along to Razanov. Once betrothed, Razanov became virtual master in the Arguello home. From this time, he said,

  I manage the sport as my interest required. Now, Razanov had a valuable aid in his efforts to win the consent of Ariyaga to the exchange of goods. Not only did he and the friars redouble their urgings, but also Concepcion and Jose Dario Arguello, her father, Ariyaga's best friend, pleaded with the governor. Before such an attack, Ariyaga's conscience yielded. He gave his permission for this once, but would not agree to any trading in future unless with the authorization

  of his superiors. The Juno was quickly laden and with but little further delay, Razanov set sail on May 21st for Alaska. The whole affair of the courtship of Razanov and Concepcion Arguello occupied little more than six weeks, but the real beauty of the tale is in the aftermath, as so alluringly set forth in the famous poem of Bret Hart. Razanov took his cargo to Alaska and afforded great relief to the hard-pressed colony. Sometime afterward he crossed over to

  Kamchatka. In September 1806 he left Akhosk on the long journey across Siberia to European Russia. At Yakutsk he was taken sick, but resumed travel before he had fully recovered. On March 1st, 1807, at Krasnoyarsk he died. Razanov's constancy, therefore, was never tested. There is no evidence as to how he felt toward Concepcion after he had left Alta California. But, as for the little Spanish Californian lady, she was faithfulness itself. For years she waited

  for her lover's return, or at least for some word from him, but none ever came. Suitors she might have had in plenty, but she wanted but the one. At length she took the robes of a nun and devoted herself to a life of charity. When her father became governor of Baja California, she went there too for several years, probably from 1815 to 1819. For a while she was back in Alta California and went then to Guadalajara. In 1829, now 38 years of age, she returned to Alta

  California and thereafter remained, living for the most part with the De La Guerra family of Santa Barbara. Not until 1842, 36 years after Razanov's departure, did she at last get word of the way in which he died. Sir George Simpson of the Hudson's Bay Company is said to have informed her. Bret Hart tells the story in the following lines. 40 years on wall and bastion swept the hollow idle breeze since the Russian eagle fluttered from the California seas. 40 years on wall and

  bastion rotted slow but sure decay and St. George's cross was lifted in the port of Monterey. And the citadel was lighted and the hall was gaily dressed, all to honor Sir George Simpson, famous traveler and guest. Far and near the people gathered to the costly banquet set and exchanged congratulations with the English baronet. Till the formal speeches ended and amidst the laugh and whine, someone spoke of Concha's lover, heedless of the warning sign. Quickly then,

  cried Sir George Simpson, speak no ill of him, I pray. He is dead. He died, poor fellow, 40 years ago this day. Died while speeding home to Russia, falling from a fractious horse. Left a sweetheart, too, they tell me. Married, I suppose, of course. Lives she yet? A death-like silence fell on banquet, guests in hall, and a trembling fixture rising fixed the awestruck gauge of all. Two black eyes and darkened orbits gleamed beneath the nun's white hood. Black surge hid the wasted

  figure, bowed and stricken where it stood. Lives she yet? Sir George repeated. All were hushed as Concha drew closer yet her nun's attire. Signor, pardon, she died, too. In 1857, at the convent of St. Catherine, Benicia, Concepcion Arguello died. Her life had been famous not only for its romance, but also for its kindliness and charities, so that she was venerated by all. Thus passed away the most cherished figure in the romance of Alta California history.

  End of chapter 31.

• 32 - Inland Explorations and Indian Wars, 1804-1823

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  32. Inland Explorations and Indian Wars, 1804-1823 Why was it that Spanish Californians did not discover gold? They had an opportunity of nearly 80 years' duration to find it, and thus ward off acquisition of all to California by the United States. The question is therefore not without importance, and it is also interesting in that it involves a story of their many expeditions into the interior where the gold

  lay. Thus, it is possible to link up many towns of the state with Spanish traditions which otherwise they might not possess, except vicariously through the experiences of their neighbors on the coast. Closely connected with the subject of inland exploration is that of Indian warfare, which had its center at times in the mission areas as well as in the non-Christian districts of the Great Interior Valley.

  The Spanish Californians had never gone in from the coast to make settlements. Soledad was the farthest inland in the province, and that was only some 30 miles from the sea. Anza and Garces had crossed the desert in the south, and the latter had once gone north across the mountains, almost to Lake Tulare. Fagas and Anza had ascended the San Joaquin River for short distances, and in 1776 Jose Joaquin Moraga crossed it and went on a day's

  journey farther on. Prior to the close of the 18th century, at least one Spanish expedition was made to Bodega Bay. There were also pursuits of runaway mission Indians just over the hills and into the valley, and certain vague explorations of the Tulare. A report of Lieutenant Hermen and Guildo Sal, in 1796, mentions streams which have been identified as the west, middle, and east channels of the San Joaquin, and the Moca Lumna, as also the lakes of the Moca

  Lumna-Consumnes Basin. It seems that an expedition had just previously been made in the year 1795. Speaking generally, it may be said, however, that the interior was very little known down to the close of the 18th century. Many had seen the great river valleys from the summits of the western hills, but few had traversed them, even for short distances. It was during the second administration of Governor Arriaga that active exploration of

  the interior began. Father Juan Martín of San Miguel was one of the pioneers. He later asserted that he had often tried to persuade Arriaga to establish a mission in the Tulares, claiming that 4,000 Indians might thereby be saved. But the governor was committed to foundations along the rivers, meaning probably the San Joaquin and its affluence. In response to native requests, Father Martín resolved to visit the swamp country himself. So in

  1804, without license from anyone, he journeyed east into what is now Kern County and reached the native village on Lake Tulare. He was desirous of taking some Indian children back with him to instruct them at the mission, but was prevented when a native chieftain made a show of resistance. Without accomplishing anything of note, Father Martín returned to San Miguel. In January 1805, Father Pedro de la Cueva of Mission San Jose went with three

  soldiers and several mission Indians to visit some sick converts at a native village in the hills, 10 or 15 miles to the east. The little party was attacked by Indians. Four of the men, including one of the soldiers, met death, and all of the horses were killed. The rest escaped, but all were wounded. A Spanish force of 35 men under Sergeant Luis Peralta was at once dispatched against the Indians and succeeded in killing 11 of their number and capturing 30 more, mostly women.

  In February, Peralta made another raid, but found that all desire for fighting had died out among the Indians. Some of the chieftains from the villages as far away as the San Joaquin came to the Spanish settlements in order to disclaim participation in the recent outbreak. It may have been in connection with this affair that another expedition was sent into the valley in 1805. Whatever it was and whoever commanded it, it seems to have explored a river to which the

  name Río de los Reyes was applied. In translated form, this has survived as Kings River, whence also comes the name Kings County. It is probable that this expedition was commanded by Gabriel Moraga, who was to win Laurels as the greatest pathfinder and Indian fighter of his day. It is certain, at any rate, that at some time prior to the series of expeditions sent out in 1806, he had visited and named the San Joaquin. That river had indeed been known for many years,

  but as the Río de San Francisco. Governor Arriaga turned his attention to the valley camp-tree in earnest in 1806. The Indian problem had become annoying, if not serious. Runaways from the missions had sought both liberty and the profitable accompaniments of mission cattle and, especially, horses. They had also learned the use of firearms. Coming in contact with the Indians of the valley, they communicated to them their knowledge of Spanish ways and their appetite

  for horse flesh, thus enhancing the danger. Viewed from another angle, the interior, with its many tribes, promised a rich field for missionary endeavor. Thus, the search for mission sites, which might serve as a means of defense as well as for the purpose of conversions, became a principal objective in the governor's plans. In 1806, at least four expeditions were made. The first of these seems to have gone out from San

  Francisco in April, but no account of its discoveries has survived. The second was undertaken by a party of twenty-two soldiers, one friar, and three interpreters, under the command of Alferez, Colour Sergeant Jose Joaquin Mayatorreina. No clear record of the expedition is extant. Mayatorreina left San Diego on June 20th and was out until July 14th. He seems to have gone inland to the north from San Luis Rey. Beyond the fact that he captured two fugitive

  mission Indians, there is slight indication of either his route or his achievements. Somewhat more information is at hand about an expedition which left Santa Barbara on July 19th for the Tularis. Although not certain, it is probable that Lieutenant Francisco Ruiz was in command. Father Jose Maria Zalvidea went along as diarist. The route, in terms of modern place names, seems to have been as follows. Footnote. Modern place names are used for all of the expeditions

  covered in this chapter. In footnote. Going by way of Santa Inez, Jonata, Zaca, and the Siskwok, and Cuyama the rivers, the party broke into Kern County and came to Buena Vista Lake, which seems to have been united then with Kern Lake. Proceeding possibly by way of Tecuya, they passed Uvas Creek and reached their farthest north about the site of Bakersfield, making camp on the Kern River. Turning south, they came on the fourth day to a place where, years before, the Indians had killed

  two soldiers, an allusion to an otherwise unknown expedition. Going through Tejom Pass, they turned east from Castaic and went well into San Bernardino County, returning eventually by way of Antelope Valley, Cajon Pass, and Lytle Creek, near San Bernardino, to San Gabriel, which they reached on August 14. Everywhere, the Indians had been friendly, but the lands were described generally as arid and alkaline. Characterizations such as this, which was repeated by most of the later

  expeditions entering that territory, were of no small importance in that they discouraged projected settlement to the valley. It is more than probable that they played their part in avoiding such attempts at colonization as would have brought on the discovery of gold. The most important expedition of the year was headed by Alferez Gabriel Moraga. There were 25 men in this party, one of whom was Father Pedro Muñoz, the chaplain and diarist. Starting from San Juan Batista on

  September 21, the Moraga party entered the Tule Plain, probably by way of San Luis Creek and Merced County. Crossing the San Joaquin, they came to a slough which they named Maraposas, on account of the great number of butterflies, maraposas, that they saw. Short the final S, this name survives both for the slough and creek, and for the county, east of Moraga's march, through which it flows. Going north and northwest, they discovered and named the Merced River, and successively

  passed the Tuolumne, Stanislaus, Calaveras, and Mokolumne rivers. The Indian village of Tuolumna, visited by them, is perhaps the origin of the modern name in the Tuolumne River and county, although it was located on the Stanislaus. Turning south and southeast, the party eventually reached the San Joaquin, where it flows southwest, forming the boundary between Madera and Fresno counties. Here they were told that soldiers from the east of the Sierra Nevada mountains had come there

  twenty years before, and had fought a battle with the Indians. Three days later, when Moraga reached Kings River, the same story was repeated by the Indians. Possibly some not otherwise known and perhaps disastrous expedition had formerly been made by Spaniards from New Mexico. Ascending Kings River, Moraga and his men turned south into Tulare County, passing near or through modern Visalia, and went on to the Kern River. In this region, they seemed to have explored to

  the east as far as the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Going south again, they rode through Tahome Pass to San Fernando, where they arrived on November 3rd. Moraga confirmed previous reports as to mission sites and Indians. Munoz's account mentioned the Merced River as the best location they had found, and spoke favorably of Kings River, though a presidio would be required. Aside from them, there were few promising sites. Some of the Indians had been timid,

  running away from the Spaniards, but the rest had been friendly. Summing up the four expeditions in his biennial report of March 1807, Father President Esteban Tapiz stated that they had visited 24 native villages with a total population of 5,300 Indians. Mission sites were few, and in any event, a presidio would be necessary, he said, because of the remoteness of that section and the great number of Indians who dwelt beyond the regions lately explored.

  In the next few years, there were probably a number of expeditions of which nothing definite is at present known. For example, there is an obscure reference to an expedition of Luis Aguello, some 70 or 80 leagues up the Sacramento in the same year as that of the four expeditions just described. The next that is authentic, however, came in 1808, when Gabriel Moraga made his third expedition to the rivers of the north. Whether his journey of 1806 was the first or

  second, and whether his probable visit of 1805 to the Tlaris in the south should be counted as one of those to the rivers of the north, cannot as yet be asserted. At any rate, whatever Moraga may have done before, his journey of 1808 was one of the most remarkable of those times. The object of the expedition was to explore the river country opposite the northern Spanish settlements for mission sites. Leaving Mission San Jose on September 25th with 11 men, Moraga made

  his way to the valley and forded the San Joaquin just south of the point where it is joined by the Calaveras near Stockton. He then ascended the Calaveras in its entire length from San Joaquin to the source in the Sierras without finding a suitable mission site. Presently, he crossed to the Moca Lumina river to the north and explored that too through all its length, with like results. Going north, he came to the Consumnes and went up that as he had done in the

  case of the Calaveras and the Moca Lumina before it. Proceeding yet farther north, he struck the American River, apparently just south of the Calaveras. He then made his way to the apparently just below Auburn. In a distance of four leagues, he reached the place where it emerged from the mountains. On October 9th, the expedition camped on the Lower Feather River, remarking its width and its overflow plain. To this, they gave the name Sacramento, employing it also henceforth

  for the Great River which it in fact joins farther down. In this connection, it may be remarked that at some point where the Sacramento and the Feather come together, it is the latter which makes a straight course north and south with the Lower Sacramento, whereas the Upper Sacramento flows in at that point from the west. Moraga crossed the Feather River, presumably below Nicholas, and went north-northwest seven leagues to a mountain range in the middle of the valley,

  the Marysville Buttes. Turning west, he came to the Upper Sacramento, which he called the Jesus Maria, a name it long retained for that part of its course. He went north along the eastern bank about ten leagues. It would seem, therefore, that he got about to Butte City or perhaps opposite Glen in Glen County. To the west, he described the border of trees marking the presence of a river, no doubt Stoney Creek. Next day, the 12th, he turned east and on the 13th crossed Feather River,

  eclipsed Sacramento, in Butte County, certainly not far from Oroville. Going now through Yuba County, he came at length to the American. In this part of his account, there is a break which makes it impossible to say whether he traversed Nevada County, but it is quite probable that he did so. Considerably farther south, several days later, he made his customary upriver explorations of both the Tuolumne and the Merced. Crossing the San Joaquin at the mouth of the Merced, he went north

  at Pescadero on Union Island and thence to Mission San Jose, which he reached on October 23rd. In addition to having passed through the already well-known regions of Merced, Stanislaus, and San Joaquin Counties, Moraga had visited and perhaps discovered Calaveras, Amador, El Dorado, Placer, Sutter, Calusa, Glen, Butte, Yuba, and Tuolumne Counties, and maybe also Nevada County. Great as was the achievement of this Columbus of the near Sierras,

  the expedition seems to have been a failure in that it had discovered no suitable mission sites. Perhaps, on that account, Moraga's journey was soon forgotten, escaping even the attention of the all-gathering Hubert Hal Bancroft. But recent research has brought it to light. In October 1809, a party of 15 soldiers from the Monterey district under Sergeant Miguel Espinosa is believed to have made an expedition, but the record is lacking. The following year, 1810,

  was a busy one for the indefatigable Gabriel Moraga. He began with a military campaign in May. There was an unconverted tribe in the vicinity of Suezon, north of Suezon Bay, that had been committing depredations against the Christian settlement, killing mission Indians. So, Moraga was sent with 17 men to attack them. Crossing Carcanez Strait, Moraga engaged 120 natives. Eighteen were captured, but were set at liberty since they were already in a dying condition from

  their wounds. The rest took refuge in three huts. All and two of the huts were killed, and those in the third burned to death rather than surrender when the hut was set on fire. For this action, which was regarded as a most brilliant affair at the time, Moraga was promoted to a brevet lieutenancy. In November of that same year, there was some Indian trouble in the vicinity of San Gabriel, and Moraga was ordered south. His reputation had preceded him, and the situation

  was soon well in hand. Meanwhile, he had made several explorations of the interior. The first was from August 15th to August 28th. With a party of 16 soldiers, Father José Villadere and four Christian Indians, Moraga sent out from Santa Clara and went by way of the Arroyo de las Nusas, a name which has survived as Walnut Creek, into the Contra Costa country. Passing Carcanez Strait, in the mouths of the Sacramento and San Joaquín, he presently marched south up the west shore of

  the latter. At some point in Versed County, he turned west along San Luis Creek and went through a pass in the mountains to San Juan Batista. Word came that the Russians were at or near Bodega. So, in September, Moraga was sent in that direction to reconnoitre. At the mouth of Tomales Bay, he met three American deer hunters and went with them to their barracks and frigate at Bodega. Going north, he came to Santa Rosa Creek and the Russian River.

  Thence, he returned to San Francisco by way of Sonoma, where later the mission San Francisco Solano was established. In October, Moraga was sent to the valley again to look for mission sites as usual and to capture runaway mission Indians. With 23 soldiers, 50 armed Indians and Father Villadere, he left Mission San José on October 19th and struck east to Pescadero. Next day, he captured 81 natives, 51 of whom were women, whom presently he released. Crossing to the right

  bank of the San Joaquín, he ranged the country watered by the Stanisla, Tuolumne and Merced without any further success in capturing runaways. On October 27th, he reached Santa Clara. Neither on this expedition nor that of August had he found satisfactory mission sites. Indeed, the previously much-praised Merced County was now characterized as unsuitable. Something new in exploration marked the year 1811. This was a visit to the river country by boat

  in October, the first attempt in this fashion since the days of Ayala a generation before. Sergeant José Antonio Sánchez was in command. The party proceeded by way of Angel Island past the well-known Point San Pablo and Point San Pedro, noting Petaluma Creek and San Pablo Bay. Presently, they went by an island, later called Yegoa, a name which has survived as Mare Island. Going through Suezon Bay, they ascended the west branch of the San Joaquín.

  Later, they entered the main channel and, at the point where the southern Pacific now has its crossing west of Stockton, the east channel. Returning to the mouth of the San Joaquín, they went a little way up to Sacramento, making the first recorded navigation of that stream. Going through Nurse Slough and Montezuma Creek, they came out about a league east of Suezon, and then ascended Suezon Creek as far as modern Eulatus.

  Hence, they returned to San Francisco. One site on the lower Sacramento was named by them as a possibility for a mission foundation. By this time, there had come a change in the direction of Alta California affairs that was to affect the whole Indian problem, including the matter of interior exploration. Priestley has described it as follows, During this epoch, the revolutionary movement in Mexico was having its far-away and indirect

  effect on the life of the California missions. The friars no longer were sent north to replace the aged or retired missionaries. Money could not be sent, nor were reports returned to the College of San Fernando. Generally, California missions and political government alike suffered from neglect in Mexico, for neither the Spanish government nor the revolutionists had power enough to be efficient in the far distant north. Hence, it is not strange that the numerous expeditions

  made in search of mission sites bore no fruit in foundations, especially as any such expansion would have required not only friars, but procedural forces and expenditures as well. Meantime, there had been a change for the worse in the attitude of the Indians and whites toward each other. The points of contact had become more numerous and friction consequently greater. Because the constructive Indian policy dominated by strategic expansion of the

  Presidio mission system was impracticable, it was logical that the white man should attempt to hold the natism check by the comparatively weak method of punitive expeditions." Moraga's campaigns at Suasun and San Gabriel in 1810 were part of the new policy. A conscious plan of mission expansion was now superseded by the hitherto incidental factor of pursuing runaways, recovering stolen animals, and punishing the Indians who had committed the

  robberies. In November 1811, there was trouble again at San Gabriel. At one time, it was reported that 800 Umas or Mojaves had approached the post with the intention of destroying it and the other neighboring missions. Reinforcements were sent and no attack was made. The coming of the Russians to Alta California in 1812 directed attention to the North Bay country. From 1812 to 1814, Gabriel Moraga made three trips to the Russian settlements of Bodega and Fort Ross,

  thus becoming well acquainted with the trails and valleys of Marin and Sonoma counties. There seems to have been no important expedition to the great Central Valley in 1812, but one of October 1813 is of some interest. This was commanded by Sergeant Francisco Soto, who 37 years before had attained to distinction as the first child of the conquering race to be born at San Francisco. With a hundred Indians from Mission San Jose and 12 soldiers who came from

  San Francisco in a boat, Soto fought a battle on some unnamed river, presumably the San Joaquin. It is said that the Indian enemies numbered a thousand men, of whom many were killed, while the Spaniards won the victory with the loss of but one mission Indian. In October 1814, a fresh search for a mission site in the Tularis was made. The commander of the expedition was a sergeant, Juan Ortega, whose name does not appear. The account comes from Father

  Juan Cabot, who was a member of the party. They went from San Miguel to Lake Tulari, near which point they got into some difficulties when they attempted to serve as peacemakers between two warring tribes. In a battle with one of them, the Spaniards lost two horses and the Indians one old woman. Peace was restored and the party went on to the vicinity of Visalia. On their return, they crossed Kings River and made their way to San Miguel by a more

  northerly route than that by which they had come. The arrival of Governor Salah in 1815 was marked by the so-called Great Expedition of that year into the Tularis to recapture runaways. It seems that simultaneous expeditions were made from different points. Authentic accounts of two of them have survived. Sergeant Juan Ortega, with Father Cabot and 30 soldiers, was in command of the party which went out from San Miguel. Leaving there on November 4th,

  he proceeded to the valley where he made a night march to avoid being seen by the Indians. On the next night, at Kings River, he tried to capture two fishermen, but they escaped and gave the alarm, wherefore no renegades were caught. Proceeding to the Cahuilla River region in the vicinity of Visalia, he continued his unavailing search for runaways, finding that the natives were in great fear of his party as a result of stories told by escaped mission

  Indians from Soledad. On the 15th, Ortega joined Sergeant Pico's party. Sergeant Jose Dolores Pico, with Father Jaime Escudo and a body of soldiers, had left San Juan Batista on November 3rd. On the 8th, at some point in the general vicinity of the junction of the San Joaquin and Kings Rivers, he fell upon an Indian village and captured 66 Indians, of whom 50 seemed to have been Christians. After affecting a junction in the upper reaches of Kings

  River with Sergeant Ortega, Pico marched with his now enlarged party to the San Joaquin. On one occasion, 250 horses were seen, most of them recently killed. A large band of animals was recovered, however, and sent back to the missions. While at Mariposa Slough, the Spaniards were misled by the Indians, who thus enabled a number of renegades to escape. On November 29th, Pico reached San Juan Batista with 10, 6 soldiers and only 9 prisoners. Governor Salab boasted that

  the great expedition had been a pronounced success, but Father Tapas was probably correct in characterizing the results as unsatisfactory. In May 1816, an expedition for religious purposes was made by Father Luis Martinez, who was accompanied by a body of soldiers. Martinez left San Luis Obispo for the Tularis, carrying on operations in the vicinity of Buena Vista Lake. He reported that the natives were so unreasonable as to prefer their existing unhappy condition to

  the benefits they might derive away from their homes at the missions. He did succeed in buying one boy in exchange for beads, blankets, and meat. On one occasion, when the inhabitants of a village had fled at the approach of his party, messengers were sent to bid them return, but the messengers were received with darts and cries of kill the coast people. In revenge, therefore, the native village was burned. No suitable site for a mission was found, yet the biennial report of Father

  President Mariano Pallares, 1815-1822, for 1815-1816 again urged the founding of missions and a presidio in the valley, naming the Visalia district as the best location. Two years later he repeated his recommendation, but the time had passed when any such project was likely to receive favorable action, fortunately perhaps for the Atlantic Coast Republic to the east. For a number of years interest in the Great River region had lagged. This now revived,

  and between May 13th and May 26th, 1817, an expedition was made by boat from San Francisco. Luis Arguello, then a lieutenant, was in command. Fathers Narciso Duran and Ramon Abea were members of the party. In their voyage up to Sacramento it is possible to identify various of the channels they followed and some of the places where they stopped. At one time they took refuge from a terrific wind behind Montezuma Hills near Rio Vista. Below Clarksburg they got a view of the

  Sierra Nevada Mountains. Going on it would seem that they passed what is now Sacramento being very probably the discoverers of that site, and got nearly as far north as the mouth of the Feather River. At any rate they got within sight of the Marysville Buttes which were said to be 10 leagues farther on. Coming downstream they turned off at Brennan Island and followed a branch to the southeast some 11 or 12 leagues. Returning to the Sacramento they proceeded home, mentioning by name the dunes

  between Antioch and Black Diamond, still called Los Medanos, the dunes. At different times on this expedition the Indians told them of other white people beyond the Sierras. On December 14th of that year an establishment was made at San Rafael which blossomed forth to all intents and purposes as a mission, though it was rated merely as a branch of San Francisco. The site was probably recommended by Gabriel Moraga who had passed that way several times since 1810.

  Father Luis Gil was elected to take charge and went there accompanied by several other friars, including Father Vicente Sarria who conducted the dedication ceremonies. Perhaps the most interesting fact connected with the founding was the reason which lay behind it. Contemporary Spanish documents point out that the Indians of San Francisco were dying at an alarming rate and it was believed that San Rafael would be a more healthful site. Viewed locally there can be

  little doubt that this was the principal factor. Among other causes assigned one at least deserves comment that it was in opposition to the Russians of Fort Ross. This has been asserted by Russian writers and most certainly in earlier years in the era of the aggressive defensive it would have occurred to the higher Spanish authorities as a motive for settlement. To be sure a mission could hardly serve as a military bulwark but it could substantiate a claimed territory or minimize the

  value of a foreign allegation of sovereignty. Some evidence to this effect appears in the account of Father Payeras of a visit by Luis Arguello, Father Gil and himself to that section late in May 1819. Passing through San Rafael in an investigation for a mission site they went to attractive land back at Point San Pedro which Payeras called Gallinas, a name which still appears on the maps. Climbing the highest hill to the east they looked out on Petaluma Plain on the one hand

  and the Great River and Mountain Range to the east on the other. Only a few white men had crossed the Sierras, Payeras said. There had been some wanderers who had gone from village to village selling their clothing for food and making their way to San Jose. One wonders who they were. Referring to the region settled by the Russians, Payeras suggested that it might be brought into communication with the bay if a procedio were put at a known favorable location, three leagues from

  Point Bodega, and if missions were established at Petaluma and Suezon. Evidently, as Priestley points out, his mind was dwelling on the presence of the Russians and this motive for missionary activity in that section must be added to that of the health of the neophytes in San Francisco. At about this same time an event took place at the San Buenaventura mission which was to bring on a new series of interior expeditions. Indians from the Colorado had developed a practice of coming

  to the southern missions and small parties to trade. One such party of 22 Mojaves reached San Buenaventura on May 29, 1819. They were not cordially received by the mission soldiers. Indeed, they were required to remain in the guardhouse pending their departure next day. On the 30th, while all were at church save a sentry in the Mojaves, a disturbance arose at the guardhouse. A general fight ensued in which 10 Mojaves, two Spanish soldiers, and one mission

  Indian were killed, and several Mojaves captured, though they subsequently escaped. The alarm was spread throughout the province as it was feared that the Colorado River tribes would seek revenge. Reinforcements were sent to San Gabriel, which was particularly exposed to attack, and sentries were posted in the mountains to the east. Meanwhile, runaway mission Indians and tribesmen of the Great Valley were causing the coast

  settlements more than usual annoyance, especially by thefts of horses, which by this time the Indians had learned to ride. Therefore, Governor Sala resolved upon another campaign on a large scale to settle these various issues. Of the three expeditions organized, the first to get underway was that of Sergeant Sanchez. Early in October, with 25 men, Sanchez proceeded from San Francisco by way of San Jose to the lower San Joaquin Valley. At or near modern Stockton, he had a great battle

  with the Moca Lumnus, in which the enemy lost 27 killed, 20 wounded, and 16 prisoners, besides 49 horses, which Sanchez recovered. One mission Indian was killed, and five soldiers were wounded. For this achievement, Sanchez was advanced to the rank of Brevet Alferez in the following year. Among the private soldiers in Sanchez's party was Jose Maria Amador, son of Sergeant Pedro Amador, a grizzled old veteran who came to California in 1769, whose name is preserved in modern Amador

  County. The second expedition to start was that of Lieutenant Jose Maria Estudio with a force of about 40 men. Leaving Monterrey on October 17th, Estudio marched by way of Soledad and San Miguel into the talares of Kern County. He found that everywhere the Indians seemed to be aware of the Spanish expeditions. News of his own foray had been sent on from Soledad. He himself was able to get information of the other expeditions. Estudio's precise route is hard to follow,

  but he reached the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas in Kern County, in the same region that Moraga had explored in 1806. Going north to the Visalia district of Talare County, he turned west, crossed Kings River, went on down that river in the San Joaquin, and then turned west to San Juan Batista, which he reached on November 13th, arriving at Monterrey three days later. The expedition had not been a great success from the standpoint of capturing runaways, recovering animals,

  or indeed from any standpoint whatever. Estudio recommended that further examination should be made of the Visalia, Kings River, and San Joaquin country before any conquest should be attempted. In any event, he said, a procedio with a force of 115 men would be necessary. A mission alone would not suffice. The third and greatest expedition of the year was commanded, as might have been expected, by the veteran Gabriel Moraga, now a lieutenant. This was not only to capture

  fugitives, but also to punish the Mojaves for the San Buenaventura affair. The force included 55 soldiers, four of whom were artillery men with a small cannon, besides a great number of mission Indians and native allies. Father Joaquin Pascual served as chaplain and diarist. Moraga left San Gabriel on November 22nd, following the line of the present Santa Fe Railway through Cajon Pass into the Mojave Desert. The route through the desert cannot well be identified, but presumably

  a direct course for the Mojave villages was taken. The distance recorded as having been traveled should have brought the expeditionaries to the present eastern boundary of California, or just short of it. It would seem, therefore, either that they stopped when already not far from the Colorado River, or else if their direction were slightly north of east, that they got at, near, or over the Nevada line. It is at least interesting to think of

  Gabriel Moraga as the possible discoverer of Nevada. One place, near their farthest east, was alluded to as having been visited by him three years earlier, a reference to an expedition not otherwise known. With respect to the objects of the foray, however, the expedition was a failure, the only known blemish on the record of Gabriel Moraga. Lack of grass and water weakened the horses and mules to such an extent that they could go no further. So Moraga turned back and

  was at San Gabriel again on December 14th. This was the last known campaign of a man whose exploits are altogether too inadequately recorded in the history of California. Moraga Valley and Moraga Road in the East Bay region do indeed recall the name, but not to the extent that this intrepid explorer deserves. It is fitting to take leave of him with some further account of his career. As a boy he came to Alta California with the second Anza expedition and lived at San Francisco

  where his father, Jose Joaquin Moraga, was first commandant. He enlisted as a private in 1784 and rose successively to the ranks of corporal in 1788, sergeant 1800, alferes in 1806, brevet lieutenant 1811, and lieutenant in 1818. From about 1818 he began to seek retirement on grounds of old age and chronic rheumatism, but his petitions seem not to have been granted. His service sheet of 1820 records that he had taken part in 46 expeditions against the Indians, vastly more than the few

  to which the historians as yet have knowledge. Three years later, on June 15, 1823, he died at Santa Barbara and was buried in the graveyard at the mission. He was described by a contemporary as a tall, well-built man of dark complexion, brave, gentlemanly, and the best Californian soldier of his time. Bancroft incorrectly refers to him as a literate, for there are not a few Moraga documents written as well as the average of his day, but goes on to say that he was honest, moral, kind-hearted,

  popular, and a very energetic and successful officer. Shirley Gabrielle Moraga, known discoverer of many interior regions, probable discoverer of yet more, worthy man and meritorious soldier, deserves well to be remembered as one of the most exemplary figures in the history of Alta, California. One last exploration from mission sites was made in 1821. By this time, the issue of secularization of the missions had become prominent in Alta, California, being an outgrowth from legislation

  of the Spanish Cortes in 1813 that all missions established 10 years should be secularized and the missionaries should move on to new conversions. Animated possibly by this prospect, Father Payeres made a search for new sites. Accompanied by Father Jose Sanchez, who kept the diary, he left San Diego on September 10th. Going northeast by way of El Cajon, he came to Santa Isabel in the center of San Diego County. After making explorations for leagues around,

  the two friars went north by way of Pala, Temecula, and San Jacinto to the San Bernardino. Turning west, they made their way to San Gabriel, where they arrived toward the end of September. They had found three sites which they deemed suitable for a mission. Taki, near Santa Isabel, and Pala in San Diego County, and a point on Lytle Creek, north of San Bernardino. It is also interesting to note that at San Jacinto and San Bernardino, there were ranches

  respectively of San Luis Rey and San Gabriel missions, and that there were over 400 Christian Indians in the valley between San Bernardino and San Gabriel. Something like old ideas were revived to bring about the last and possibly the greatest of the expeditions into the interior under Spanish rule. Rumors were current to the effect that a party of Englishmen or Americans had established themselves within 40 or 50 leagues to the north of San Francisco.

  Spurred on by the possibility of foreign danger, Sola decided upon an expedition to get information and expel the intruders if necessary. Luis Arguell, famous not only as the brother of Doña Concepcion and as a later governor of Alta California, but also as an explorer, with a record of achievements second only to that of Gabriel Moraga, was chosen to take command. Including officers, there were 59 soldiers in his party, besides

  Father Blas Ordaz as chaplain and diarist John Gilroy, of whom later, as English interpreter, and a number of mission Indians. Leaving San Francisco on October 18th, Arguello and his men crossed Garcanas Strait and then started north. Crossing Solano and Yolo Counties, they came to the Sacramento River at a point above Grimes and Colusa County. Here they were informed that men, like themselves, had been in that neighborhood. Proceeding in the main, up the right bank of the

  Sacramento, they crossed Glen and Tahama counties, possibly to Cottonwood Creek, which forms the boundary between Tahama and Chasta counties. It appears that Gilroy had been in this vicinity before, for Father Ordaz records what he had formerly seen from the heights nearby. It would seem that they now crossed the lower end of Trinity County to the Eel River, though it cannot be stated whether they reached it in Humboldt, Trinity, or Mendocino County.

  At any rate, they turned south, presumably up the Valley of the Eel. At one place, they learned that four horsemen of unknown nationality had recently passed by, and one native had some blue cloth from Bodega. Riding through Mendocino County from north to south, they caught sight of the coast, and two days later were at the Russian River, perhaps a little above Cloverdale. Crossing a mountain, they came to an Indian village near Santa Rosa. Going on through San Rafael, they at

  length reached San Francisco on November 15th. Thus ended Arguello's expedition to the Columbia, as it was long popularly called, possibly because the foreigners they sought were supposed to have come from the Columbia River region. No foreigners had been found, but there had been some minor skirmishes with Indians, though most of the natives had not been hostile. This was the last of the expeditions under Spanish rule. But allusion may be made here to one other of 1823, which led to

  the founding of San Francisco Solano Mission at Sonoma. Like San Rafael, the new mission, which proved to be the last, was an expansion of San Francisco, with some hint also of providing an outpost against the Russians. A Californian deputy, Francisco Castro, accompanied by Alfredo José Sanchez, with 19 men and Father José Altamira, made the preliminary exploration. They left San Francisco on June 25th, went in a launch to San Rafael, and then arranged the plane

  from Petaluma to Sonoma, Napa, and Suezon. They were in doubt between Petaluma and Sonoma for a mission site, but at length decided for the latter, planning also to have cattle ranches at Petaluma and Napa. On July 4th, a cross was set up at Sonoma, after which they began their return and two days later were in San Francisco. On August 25th, Father Altamira was back at Sonoma and its activity as a mission started. Expeditions into the interior did not end with a change of flag in

  1822 from Spanish to Mexican, but they were of less importance than formerly, being largely for the purpose of recovering stolen animals and punishing the Indians for their depredations. The idea of an inland mission was never again entertained by the Franciscans, though there were a number of suggestions on the part of the secular authorities for such establishments, at Santa Rosa, along the Kern, San Joaquin, Kings, and Chowchilla Rivers,

  and in a chain of missions from Santa Rosa to Humboldt, Maine, largely as an anti-Russian enterprise. On the whole, however, political troubles within the settled area of the white population were much more engrossing than interior exploration. Thus, the goal remained undiscovered. At length, John A. Sutter founded his settlement at Sacramento. American colonists trickled through the passes in the mountains and established themselves in the Great Valley, and then came

  the revelation which transformed a one-time Hispanic land into a great American state. This chapter is based almost wholly on an as-yet unpublished manuscript of Professor Herbert Ingram Priestley. End of chapter 32.

• 33 - Era of the Wars of Independence, 1810-1822

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  33. Era of the Wars of Independence, 1810-1822. Alta California was one of the few regions now part of the United States which had an active share in the Spanish-American Wars of Independence. Alta California's military participation was limited to one brief naval attack of some insurgent ships, but even this is not without historical interest.

  It will be a surprise to many to know that the flag of Argentina, or Buenos Aires as it was then more commonly called, was once raised at Monterrey. For a moment it was at least possible that Alta California might free itself from its political connection with Spain and become one of the many independent republics of Hispanic America.

  Fortunately, for the present occupants of the territory, Alta California was loyal to the mother country. In the main, the people of the province were ignorant of the reach and importance of the series of wars which were being fought throughout the Americas. They received but little news and were constantly under the impression that the revolts were

  nearly over. They never doubted that the king would win. Down to 1818 they themselves were not called upon to take part in the struggle, but from the very first they suffered on account of it. After 1810 the supply ships ceased coming for a number of years and never again resumed

  their former annual schedule. The salaries of both missionaries and soldieries stopped with them. This occasioned a changed basis in the life of the settlements, which was to foster the movement that eventually brought about the American occupation. Illicit trade took the place that the Sambla ships had previously filled as the corner

  stone in the edifice of provincial economy. Much of this, indeed, was with the expressed assent of superior authority, especially in the case of more or less frequent vessels from Peru, which brought various effects in exchange for tallow. But there was also a considerable trade with Russian and American boats and with a Russian

  colony at Fort Ross. Alta California gave food supplies in exchange for manufactured articles. For the purposes of this trade, the missions were best off by far as they had the largest crops and flocks. The pueblos and a few of the ranch owners possessed something, but the procedios had

  practically nothing to sell, at the same time that the soldiers were without pay. In this emergency, the wealth of the missions was utilized to save the province. Levees of tallow and food products were made on them in exchange for drafts on the Spanish treasury. This gave the military something they might use in trade with the foreign ships.

  The missionaries, on the whole, gave freely. They indeed had a great stake in the success of the king, since victory for the Mexican revolutionaries meant an end to the missions, and they stood in absolute need of the soldiers. At times, however, they were grudging in their offerings, granting only so much as was barely necessary.

  Since they, too, were without their usual stipend from the king's coffers, it is not surprising that they did not relish this additional drain on their resources. As for the drafts on the Spanish treasury, well, they were never honored. The soldiers at the procedios were very bitter against the missionaries, however. When their own families were in rags, they remarked the comparative plenty of the missions.

  In this period, therefore, there was a beginning of that agitation which was to end a few years later in the secularization of the missions. In addition to the Russian and American contacts with the province and the activities of the Spaniards in Indian warfare and interior exploration, there was little of note that occurred prior to the Year of the Insurgents in 1818.

  In 1812, there was a terrific earthquake which destroyed San Juan Capistrano Mission to the accompaniment of a loss of some forty lives. In 1814, Governor Arriaga died, and Jose Dario Arguello succeeded him temporarily. Arguello was a native Carretero, New Spain, who had worked his way up from the ranks in the army to the governorship of a province.

  He came to Alta California with the Rivera Expedition of 1781, being attached, luckily for himself, to that part of the command which went on ahead from the Yuma Junction. He was much the same type of man and ruler as Arriaga, but was, if anything, more pious and also very popular. His greatest distinction, perhaps, is that he was the father of Concepcion Arguello,

  as also of Luis, famed explorer and first governor in the Mexican era. Jose Dario Arguello left the province in 1815 to become governor of Baja California, a post that he held, without pay, until 1822. He then went to Guadalajara, where he died in poverty. In 1815 came the last of the Spanish governors, Pablo Vicente de Solá.

  Solá was of a wealthy family and very much of an aristocrat. Like two of his predecessors, he was a Basque, coming from the province of the sky of Spain, thus giving Alta California a representative from each of the three Basque provinces in the list of its early governors. His arrival was the occasion for the greatest series of festivities that had ever taken

  place in the province. There were processions galore, the firing of cannon, religious services, speeches, and a military review. A special feature was his reception by twenty of the most beautiful girls of Alta California, all dressed in white.

  There was a great feast, at which delicacies from every part of the province were served, game and other meats of various kinds, olives, oranges, pastries, and wine. During the day, there were exhibitions of skillful horsemanship and a fight between a bull and a bear. At night, of course, there was a grand ball.

  Solá, as governor, did not measure up to the splendor of this event. He might have fared very well in an era of fewer problems. But he came to the province when it was in the midst of difficulties with foreign elements and hard times in internal affairs. As matters were, he was a peevish, ill-tempered, despotic, complaining, self-praising, shallow

  sort of person, and a poor governor. The year 1818 was the only time in Alta California history, prior to the coming of the Americans, that an external foe ever attacked the province, despite many years of apprehension in earlier days over a possible foreign danger. The campaign of that year is interesting not only in itself, but also because it was connected

  with an important phase of the Spanish-American Wars of Independence. The people of the United States were enthusiastically in favor of the struggling Spanish colonies. Despite the neutrality of the government, many Americans gave practical help to the insurgents in their battle for liberty. In particular, they rendered great service as privateersmen, preying upon Spanish commerce

  and making the seas unsafe for Spanish operations except under cover of a strong convoy. Many of these American ships were little better than out-and-out pirate craft, even when they in fact took out letters of mark from some patriot government. But it cannot in justice be denied that they were an important element in the eventual success of the Spanish-Americans.

  Baltimore was the chief port in which these vessels were fitted out, despite the sincere efforts of the United States government to break up the practice, so that the term Baltimore ship became synonymous with pirate craft or pirate, according to the point of view. These vessels would make their way south to Buenos Aires, perhaps carrying a cargo of munitions and once there would receive commissions as privateers.

  It was one such American vessel, though whether or not from Baltimore is not yet known, that took the lead in the attack of 1818. The commander of the expedition was a certain Hippolyte de Bouchard, a Frenchman, who had previously been serving in the Buenos Aires Navy as Sergeant Major. He was a man of strong and determined will and a fiery temper, and was a strict disciplinarian

  as an officer. In charge of a second ship with him at that time of his arrival in Alta California was an Englishman named Peter Corny, whose journal is thus far the principal source of information from the insurgent side for the events of the campaign. As he did not join the expedition until it reached the Hawaiian islands, the specific

  events prior to that point are somewhat obscure. It seems that, in May 1818, a ship called the Santa Rosa, flying the patriot flag, touched at the Hawaiian islands. The captain showed a suspicious readiness to sell the vessel to King Kamehameha, wherefor the island monarch ordered an investigation.

  The Santa Rosa had a valuable cargo of dry goods, of which it was quite evident that it was in unlawful possession. So Kamehameha seized the ship and confined the crew. It was ascertained upon examination that the Santa Rosa, alias Checa, alias Baca, alias Liberty, originally an American ship, had been fitted out in the Rio de la Plata as

  a privateer, whence it had sailed for the Pacific to cruise against Spanish commerce. It had captured a number of Spanish vessels, destroyed various towns, and in fact become the terror of the coast. Meanwhile, a number of mutinies had taken place, with accompanying changes in captains. It is likely that the Santa Rosa was more pirate than patriot.

  At any rate, in September 1818, a much larger ship, the frigate Argentina under Captain Bouchard, came to the Hawaiian islands with orders to capture and reclaim the Santa Rosa wherever she may be found. Consequently, Bouchard demanded possession of the vessel and crew from Kamehameha, a demand that was immediately complied with.

  It was at this time that Bouchard met Corny, and induced him to join his expedition as commander of the Santa Rosa. Right in October, the two vessels left the Hawaiian islands bound for Alta California. The Santa Rosa had a motley crew of a hundred men. Thirty of them were Canacas, and the rest were divided among Americans, Spaniards, Spanish

  Americans, Portuguese, Negros, Philippine Islanders, Meleys, and a few Englishmen. The officers seemed, for the most part, to have been Americans. On the Argentina there were two hundred and sixty-six men, of whom fifty were Canacas, and the rest mixed crew, like that of the Santa Rosa. The ships are said, though not by Corny, to have carried, respectively, twenty-six and

  thirty-eight guns. Meanwhile, the Spanish Californians had been warned. In 1816, they learned that a fleet of patriot vessels had blockaded Callao, and were informed that they might soon come north. During the next two years, the province was kept in a state of suspense.

  At one time, in 1816, it was reported that the Buenos Aires privateers, under William Brown, were threatening the entire coast, as far north as the Californias. During that same year, a strange craft was sighted, heading for Monterey. The alarm was given, but the vessel proved to be a small schooner. The captain disclaimed hostile intentions, declaring that he had sailed from China for

  the Hawaiian islands with a cargo of merchandise. The next day, when it took its leave, the ship was carefully watched until it disappeared from view. The Spanish Californians were never certain of its identity, and later were convinced that it was a spy of the insurgents.

  In 1817, an English vessel which stopped at Monterey received the same suspicious scrutiny. The excited state of mind of the provincial authorities is reflected in the later, though obviously inaccurate, account of this visit given by an Alta California chronicler. In 1817, he says, a large ship, really that of Bouchard, anchored at Monterey, claiming to be an English man-of-war engaged in scientific exploration.

  According to this writer, Bouchard himself was in command. Gradually, the fear of an insurgent attack subsided, and the inhabitants began to acquire a sense of security. This feeling was rudely disturbed early in October 1818, and that month, the American ship Clarion, under Captain Henry Giselaar, put in at Santa Barbara.

  Giselaar told Jose de la Guerra, commander at that post, that two vessels were fitting out in the Hawaiian islands for an attack on Alta California. Immediate preparations for defense were undertaken. Articles of value were boxed and sent to the missions of the interior. Similarly, livestock was driven inland, and the women and children were ordered to be

  ready to leave at a moment's notice. Soldiers and provisions were gathered at the procedios, and sentinels were posted along the coast. There followed a long, nerve-wracking wait of more than a month. At length, the enemy ships were sighted.

  According to some accounts, they were first seen near San Francisco, though they did not try to enter that port. Off Santa Cruz, a landing was attempted, but was prevented by a violent storm, and the vessels proceeded south. It was on November 20th that a sentinel at Point Pinos, near Monterrey, reported the

  approach of the two ships. The total force of the place, forty men in all, was assembled. The principal shore defenses of eight guns were in command of Sergeant Manuel Gomez, who was said to be the uncle of an officer on one of Beauchard's ships, a certain Luciano Gomez.

  A new battery of three guns was improvised on the beach, and placed in charge of Corporal Jose Vallejo. That same night, the Santa Rosa came in, and anchored in the port. As Corny puts it, quote, "'Being well acquainted with the bay, I ran in and came to at midnight under the fort.

  The Spaniards hailed me frequently to send a boat on shore, which I declined,' end quote. The next day there was a battle, the accounts of which are in a state of confusion. It is said that the Santa Rosa opened fire, though it would seem that the insurgent leaders first parlayed with Solá. They asked him for supplies, which he declined to furnish.

  Beauchard sent off six boats from the Argentina after the conflict had begun. While they were advancing, Corporal Vallejo opened up with the guns of the improvised battery, which alone of the Monterrey defenses was unknown to the enemy. Taken by surprise, Beauchard ordered the boats to return. The Spanish Californians say that Corny lowered the flag of the Santa Rosa in token of surrender,

  after first having sent off six boats with most of the crew to the other ship. Believing it to be a trick, Governor Solá directed Vallejo to continue firing, but Gomez ordered him to stop. It is said that Vallejo, who figures as the hero of this fight, declined to obey Gomez, demanding him to be in league with the enemy.

  Gomez then commanded the soldiers of the fort to open fire upon the battery, but in great indignation they refused. Corny makes no mention of the reputed surrender. At any rate, the Santa Rosa was not in fact captured. Meanwhile, the second officer of that vessel, Joseph Chapman, an American, came ashore with

  two sailors. All three were taken prisoners by the Spaniards. The second phase of the battle opened with an advance of Beauchard and the Argentina. Beauchard sent a flag of truce ashore with a formal demand for the surrender of Alta California, to which Solá claims to have made the grand eloquent reply that he would

  not take any such course while there was a man alive in the province. When nothing came of the parlaying, Beauchard landed a considerable force, four hundred men according to the Spaniards, or more than the total on both ships, near Port Pinos. Alferez, José Estrada, with a small troop was sent to oppose them, but seeing that he was greatly outnumbered he ordered a retreat to Monterey.

  According to Corny, the Spaniards mounted their horses and fled, following a charge in which the Canacas, armed with pikes, took the lead. There followed a brief encounter at Monterey, whereby this time Solá had a force of eighty men. Solá deemed it prudent to retreat, and did so in safety, carrying with him some munitions

  in the archives of the province. He stopped at Rancho del Rey, an estate on the site of present-day Salinas. Here he was joined a little later by reinforcements from San Francisco and San Jose. Thereupon two hundred Spaniards and a large number of Indians set out for Monterey, but got there to find the town in flames and the ships disappearing below the horizon.

  Arrived at the Presidio they picked up two prisoners who claimed they had deserted. Meanwhile Beauchard and his men had been in Monterey about a week. According to Bancroft he departed on the night of November 26, 27. Corny says it was December 1 when they left, in footnote. They had buried their dead, cared for the wounded, and made repairs on the ships, especially

  the much-damaged Santa Rosa. The town itself was sacked. Corny tells the story as follows. Quote, It was well stocked with provisions and goods of every description which we commenced sending on board the Argentina.

  The Sandwich Islanders, who were quite naked when they landed, were soon dressed in the Spanish fashion, and all the sailors were employed in searching houses for money and breaking and ruining everything. Few buildings in the town escaped burning, and even the orchards and gardens were destroyed. The Spanish Californians were wont to ascribe this ruthless pillaging to Luciano Gomez,

  one of the two villains in this provincial drama. As for the other, his uncle Manuel Gomez, it is said that Salah's officers wanted to have him tried for treason, but the governor retained confidence in him and was able to point out that Gomez's house had been hit by a ball from the insurgents' guns. Bouchard next touched at Refugio, the home of the Ortegas, between Point Conception

  and Santa Barbara. Possibly he was lured by the reputed wealth of the Ortegas, who were said to have made a considerable fortune out of smuggling. That same day, Sergeant Carlos Antonio Carrillo came up from Santa Barbara with thirty men. Lying in ambush, he succeeded in lassoing three of Bouchard's following, one of whom

  was Lieutenant William Taylor of Boston. This so enraged Bouchard that he ordered the village to be set on fire. Meanwhile, the ranch had been plundered and some of the cattle killed. Thereafter, Bouchard embarked his men and Carrillo retired to Santa Barbara. The ships continued south, made a landing at Santa Cruz Island for wood and water, and

  on December 6th cast anchor at Santa Barbara. Among the many romantic tales that grew out of the Bouchard invasion, there is one concerning a stratagem that Jose de la Guerra employed to deceive the enemy. Believing himself to be vastly outnumbered, it is said that he kept marching his tiny forces around a small hill so that Bouchard might count them several times over and believe

  them to be much greater than they were. Whether or not this in fact took place, the insurgent seemed not in the least to have been frightened. Corny's account reads, quote, We fired a gun and hoisted the colors with a flag of truce, and sent a boat on shore

  to say that if they would give up our men, we would spare the town. After some parlaying, an exchange of prisoners was agreed upon. At Monterey, Bouchard had captured a drunken and worthless character named Molina. This man he gave up for the three whom Carrillo had taken. Solá afterward reprimanded de la Guerra for having any dealings with pirates, and even

  blamed him for not attacking Bouchard. Despite the fact that he himself with much superior forces to those of de la Guerra had seen fit to retire from Monterey to Rancho del Rey and remain there while the capital was being destroyed. As for Molina, he must have regretted his exchange, for Solá sentenced him to a hundred

  lashes and six years on the chain gang. Bouchard seems to have been at Santa Barbara several days before resuming the voyage south. There was considerable alarm at San Buenaventura lest he should land there. The mission was abandoned and the people went into the interior for twenty-four days. Father José Senyan of San Buenaventura afterward described Bouchard's men as made up of, quote,

  heretics, excommunicated persons, heathen, and a few moors, unquote. This remark may be taken as symptomatic of the excitement of the times. Bouchard, however, did not stop at San Buenaventura, but went on to San Juan Capistrano. It was on December 14th that the insurgent vessels appeared before San Juan Capistrano. Corny tells the story as follows, quote, The Commodore sent his boat on shore to say if

  they would give us the immediate supply of provisions, we would spare their town. To which they replied that we might land if we pleased and they would give us an immediate supply of powder and shot. The Commodore was very much incensed at this answer and assembled all the officers to know what was best to be done.

  It was therefore agreed to land and give it up to be pillaged and sacked. We found the town well stocked with everything but money and destroyed much wine and spirits and all the private property. Next morning we punished about twenty men for getting drunk, end quote. The Spanish officer who returned the brave but somewhat impolitic answer to Bouchard

  above referred to was Alferez Santiago Arguello. He had come up from San Diego with thirty men to aid the small force at the mission. They were unable to oppose any resistance to Bouchard, however. On the next day, the fifteenth, considerable reinforcements from Santa Barbara and Los Angeles arrived under the command of José de la Guerra.

  Smarting under Solaz's reproof, de la Guerra was very eager to fight. So he sent a challenge to Bouchard to land and have a battle. But the insurgent commander chose instead to sail away, leaving behind four of his men who had deserted, including two of the three who had previously been captured at Refugio. San Diego now prepared itself for the enemy.

  The women and children had previously been sent inland to Pala, and the soldiers were ready, but Bouchard sailed by without stopping. Late in January 1819, his vessels were sighted near San Blas. There is a tale to the effect that he attacked a Spanish cruiser, mistaking it for a treasure ship, which he had allowed to pass the day before, in a belief that it was the cruiser.

  He is said to have escaped, however, with the loss of a few men and some damage to his ship. Corny does not mention this fight, though he does speak of their cruising off San Blas at the time in search of Manila ships. Riding down the coast, they reached Valparaiso, Chile, on July 9.

  There the record stops, for it was at that port that Corny parted company with the Bouchard ships. Presumably, they went on to the east coast. At any rate, when Corny applied for his pay and prize money, Bouchard told him he would get nothing unless he continued his services until they reached Buenos Aires.

  When the Spanish Californians were convinced that Bouchard had gone, they began work to restore the buildings that he had destroyed. At Monterey, for example, the missions were called upon to furnish the necessary Indian labor and were also required to make contributions of various stores to replace those which had been lost.

  Not until April 1819 were affairs in such a state as to permit the return of the women and children from Soledad. At Santa Cruz, in San Juan Capistrano, there were sharp controversies springing out of the campaign. In the course of the transfer of valuables from the former place to one of the inland

  missions, some casks of wine and aguardiente were reported to have been spilled. According to all the evidence, it was at about the same time that the work of removal became ragged and various articles disappeared. The friars raised a hue and cry, and it proved that the settlers of Branciforte and the Indians of the mission had stolen a number of small things, most of which were presently recovered.

  Prior to the San Juan Capistrano affair, the friars and others of the mission had abandoned the place and gone into the interior. Upon their return, they accused Santiago Arguello of having neglected the mission, and in particular of having wasted their wine and brandy. As concrete evidence, they were able to point to two of the mission Indians who had indeed

  partaken not wisely but too well. One of them had drunk himself to death, and the other had become insane. With the aid of José de la Guerra, always a favor to the friars, Arguello was able to clear himself. But the most interesting thing about the Bouchard expedition is the motive that lay behind it.

  Despite the fact that there was always much evidence to the effect that it was a distinct effort on behalf of the Spanish-American Revolutionary cause, there has heretofore been a tendency to emphasize the more or less piratical nature of the enterprise. Corny's journal makes it certain that the primary object of Bouchard was to attack the Spanish ports of that coast in order to strike a blow at the King of Spain.

  The undertaking, therefore, was legitimate in every way. In the light of this fact, the testimony of prisoners and deserters taken by the Spanish Californians is interesting. They claim to have been on ships captured by the Santa Rosa or the Argentina, and to have been pressed into service against their will.

  They were a unit, however, in declaring that the expedition was a blow aimed by the insurgent leaders against the Spanish government. It is to be remembered that the Revolutionary cause had only begun to recover from its lowest ebb at about the time Bouchard must have been sent forth on his voyage. Prior to San Martín's march across the Andes to Chile in 1817, the region of the Rio de

  La Plata alone remained unconquered by the Spaniards. By 1818, Chile had been retaken by the Patriots, and the war in Venezuela and Colombia had been revived, but New Spain, Central America, the West Indies, and the entire middle reaches of the Pacific coast of South America, forming the Viceroyalty of Peru, were in Spanish hands. This adds point to the remarks ascribed to one of the prisoners taken by the Spanish

  Californians at Monterrey. After referring to the defeats of the Revolutionary leaders, particularly in New Spain, he went on to say, quote, In order to stimulate the hearts of the Patriots, they had thought it necessary to bring into the liberal cause the inhabitants of California, who, on account of their distance from the capital of the Viceroy, offered a safe exile to the persecuted

  and could serve as a rallying point for the expeditions destined to help the Patriots, end quote. One wonders what might have happened if the Spanish Californians had made common cause with Bouchard instead of resisting him. More than likely, a Spanish-American republic would then and there have been formed.

  One may also ask why Bouchard did not persevere in his effort. The answer is simple. Without a base of supplies near at hand, he could not hope to conquer and hold the province with his small forces in the face of opposition. If the inhabitants had been eager to embrace the Patriot cause, he might have adopted a

  different course of action. But finding them loyal to the King, his sole desire was to strike a blow on behalf of the Patriots. It is to be noted that his only serious military effort was against Monterey, the capital. Among other events worthy of record in the Revolutionary era is the arrival of the first

  permanent non-Spanish white settlers. In 1814 came John Gilroy, a youth of twenty. His real name was Cameron, but he had decided to change it in order to hide his identity he decided to seek a career on the ocean wave and ran away to sea. Born in Scotland, he had lived most of his life in England.

  He is described as a good-natured, grog-loving, improvident sailor. Acquiring a ranch on the side of the town, which now bears his name, he lost that and the rest of his property at the time of the American conquest. In 1869 he died. Next after Gilroy, probably in 1814 or 1815, came an Irishman named John Milligan, who

  for some unknown reason assumed the name Mulligan. He is said to have taught weaving to the Indians at the missions. In 1834 he died due in large measure, no doubt, to his overindulgence and hard drink. In 1816 the first American to remain in the province arrived, not counting the defunct Grome.

  This was Thomas W. Doak, reputedly of Boston, a young man of 29 who came on the ship Albatross. He passed most of his life in or near Monterey and Santa Cruz. After 1847 he disappears from the record. Another American named Daniel Call landed at Santa Barbara later in 1816 from the ship Atala.

  He was 17 years old at the time. Beyond the fact that he was a carpenter, very little is known about him. The most famous foreign resident of the Spanish period, often mistakenly called the first American, was Joseph Chapman, about 30 years old at the time of his arrival. He was one of several of Bouchard's men who remained in Alta California thenceforth.

  Chapman was of New England extraction. His career immediately prior to his arrival is somewhat obscure. He claimed to have been pressed into the service of Bouchard and the Hawaiian Islands, but it is highly probable that he had previously shared in the more or less illicit prize money picked up by the much named Santa Rosa.

  In Alta California he became a famous character and a general favorite. He was a typical handyman and jack of all trades. He built several grist mills, planted a vineyard of some 4,000 vines at Los Angeles, built a schooner, served as a surgeon, and did odd jobs at the missions and elsewhere, for there seemed to be nothing he could not make or repair.

  Furthermore, he married one of the numerous daughters of the wealthy and aristocratic Ortega family and became the father of five children. He resided, for the most part, at Los Angeles and Santa Barbara, and died probably in 1848 or 1849. In addition to the five already mentioned, at least eight other foreigners are known

  to have come to Alta California before the close of the year 1818. After Bouchard's departure, the province drifted rapidly toward the separation from Spain which it had so insistently opposed before. In the absence of the king, who was a prisoner in Napoleon's hands, the Spanish Cortes of 1812 had overthrown the previously existing absolutist system and had drawn up a constitution

  proclaiming a liberal monarchy in the name of Ferdinand VII. That monarch cast aside the constitution of 1812 upon his restoration in 1814, but was forced to accept it again in 1820. The constitution was published in New Spain in May 1820 and in Alta California in October. The law required that all should take the oath to the new government, and this was probably

  done out of loyalty to the king, whose name was signed to the order. The friars did not like it, but for that matter, neither did Ferdinand. This was the first step in Alta California toward an independence which was not at all desired. During 1821, events moved rapidly in New Spain.

  Under the leadership of Agustín Iturbide, independence was proclaimed and won, and the name New Spain disappeared with the victory to be supplanted by that of Mexico. The news of Iturbide's victory did not reach Alta California until January 1822. At first, the Alta Californians were unable to believe that it was more than a passing moment, but late in March they were called upon to take action.

  At that time, they got word that Iturbide meant to summon Ferdinand VII or some other Spanish bourbon to be ruler of the Mexican Empire, but the latter was henceforth to be independent of Spain. The people of Alta California were required to swear allegiance to the new government, and were invited to send a deputy to the Mexican Congress.

  This looked serious, so the governor called together a special junta of nine officers and one friar. This body decided to recognize the regency of Iturbide and declared Alta California dependent on the Mexican Empire only. On April 11, 1822, Spanish rule in Alta California may be said to have come to an end.

  On that day, the oath was taken at Monterey, and this was followed by religious services cheering the firing of guns, music, and illuminations. On later days, the inhabitants of other settlements duly took the oath and celebrated the independence which even yet they were not sure that they desired. There was no evidence, however, that there was so much as a single protest.

  No doubt the people were stunned by the, to them, inconceivable happening of the overthrow of Spanish power. It remained to elect the deputy to the Mexican Congress. Elections were held during that same month of April for electors, of whom there was to be one for each of the four procedural districts and one for Los Angeles.

  The five electors met at Monterey in May and named Salah as Alta California's deputy. It may be wondered how such a vociferous royalist as Salah could be willing to take office in an unrecognized government, since Spain had by no means consented to the new turn of affairs. But a great and most discernible change had come over the erstwhile arch-loyalist governor. In his latter days in the province, he was wont to rejoice in independence as loudly

  as he had previously berated it. He remained in office as governor, however, until a successor could be chosen. In November 1822 was held the first gubernatorial election in the history of Alta California. It was expected that Jose de la Guerra would win. He was senior captain and had the backing of Salah, most other officers, and the friars.

  But he was a native of Spain, wherefor an agent of Mexico, then in the province, worked hard to compass his defeat. So when the vote was counted, it proved that Luis Arguello of San Francisco had won. That same month, Salah left Alta California for Mexico. The new regime was now solidly installed.

  Spanish California existed no more. The movement which had begun exactly 300 years before, when Cortes planted his settlement at Zacatula, had passed irrevocably into other than Spanish hands. This chapter is based principally on Jones Francis Carey, California in the Spanish-American Wars of Independence, the Bouchard Invasion.

  Berkeley, California, 1921. Manuscript, Master of Arts thesis, in the Library of the University of California, in footnote. End of chapter 33.

• 34 - Under Mexican Governors, 1822-1835

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  CHAPTER XXXIV. UNDER MEXICAN GOVERNORS 1822-1835. Strictly speaking, there was no Mexican period of California history. During a quarter of a century the sovereignty of the Southern Republic was more or less continuously acknowledged, but the actual intervention of Mexico in the affairs of its distance province consisted in little more than sending of governors and a few score of degraded soldiery. These years

  were therefore more prominently marked by other influences. By far the most important among them was the coming of the Americans. The tide had set in some time before, but now it reached the full, wherefore it is best that the detailed account of this epoch should be left to the historian of American California. The great era of Spanish achievement had passed. All that remains to do in this volume, therefore, is to bring the story to an end with a recital

  of the local events which occupied the attention of the descendants of the conquerors until the last blow was struck for the change to a new regime. The key note of the era, from a provincial standpoint, was to be found in its turbulence. There was much revolutionary unrest, based largely on personal and sectional rivalries. Men fought or intrigued for office and the chance to administer the scant resources of the treasury. South fought North, challenging

  its traditional predominance. All, however, were united in a greater or lesser dissatisfaction over the neglect of their affairs by the Mexican government, a factor which manifested itself in more than one political upheaval. In other words, Alta California was experiencing the same type of growing pains that other Spanish American lands, from Texas to Cape Horn, had suffered in the years immediately following independence from Spain. Left to

  itself, the province would, very probably, have evolved into a respectable independent republic, or two republics, like those in the temperate zone of South America. These years also saw the downfall of the missions, which for so long a time had been the most important institution in Alta California. Twelve men filled the gubernatorial chair in this period. They were Luis Arguello, 1822 to 1825, Jose Maria Echeandia, 1825 to 1831,

  Manuel Victoria, 1831 to 1832, Pío Pico, 1832, for 20 days only, Echeandia again from 1832 to 1833, but in the South only, Agustín Zamarrano, 1832 to 1833, in the North only, Jose Figueroa, 1833 to 1835, Jose Castro, 1835 to 1836, Nicolás Gutierrez, 1836 for four months only, Mariano Chico, 1836 for three months only, Gutierrez again, 1836 for three months, Juan Batista Alvarado, 1836 to 1842, Manuel Mico Torrena, 1842 to 1845, Pico again, 1845 to 1846,

  and Jose Maria Flores, 1846 to 1847. Pico, Castro, Alvarado from 1838 and Pico again were civil governors only. During their incumbency the military power was held respectively by Echeandia, who was the de facto, if not the de jure ruler, Gutierrez, who soon became governor, Mariano Guadalupe Viejo, 1838 to 1842, and Castro, the former civil governor, who served as comandantes. They were virtually co-governors.

  Outwardly, the period of Luis Arguello's rule was less stirring than many which had gone before, or any of those to come. The change from the Mexican regency to the empire was formally accepted in 1823, followed a few months later by an oath of allegiance to the newly established republic. In 1825 the people of the province quite as easily swore to support the Mexican constitution which had just been submitted to them. No doubt they would have subscribed

  with like facility to any other governmental change. This is indicative rather of the hazy character of the Mexican connection than of fickle inconstancy on the part of the Californians. In truth, it mattered little to them what Mexico was. Far more important was the opening of the province to foreign trade and the coming of men like William Hartnell and Abel Stearns, who settled permanently in the province and became the founders of important Anglo-Californian

  families which have been prominent in the life of the Golden State ever since. No doubt the greatest local excitement during Arguello's administration was produced by the Indian revolt of 1824. In February of that year there were almost simultaneous uprisings at the Santa Ines, Burisma Concepcion, and Santa Barbara missions. The precise causes are a matter of controversy, but it is probably true that hatred of the mission Indians for the soldiery was a prominent factor.

  The outbreak started at Santa Ines when one of the soldiers flogged an Indian. Thereupon the Indians sought revenge and surprised the soldiery by appearing well armed. A brisk battle followed, in which it seems, however, that nobody was killed, although the mission buildings were set on fire. Next day a detachment of troops arrived from Santa Barbara and the Indians yielded. On the same day, as the Santa Ines disturbance, there was also a revolt at Burisma Concepcion

  and a somewhat more strenuous battle. The Indians attacked the soldiers and next morning compelled them to surrender. Seven Indians and four white men, two of them guests at the mission, had been killed. The surviving soldiers were allowed to depart and the Indians remained in control of the mission for nearly a month. When the news reached Santa Barbara, the Indians there became greatly excited and proceeded to take over the mission for themselves, including the guns of the soldiery.

  Thereupon Captain De La Guerra assembled a force at the Presidio and marched to attack the mission. A battle of several hours duration followed, during which two Indians were killed and a number on both sides wounded. Presently, most of the Indians took to the hills and the victorious soldiery sacked the Indian homes, killing a few more of their erstwhile opponents in the process. It was not long afterward that word reached Monterey. Governor Arguello at once

  dispatched Lieutenant Jose Mariano Estrada with an enormous army, as things went in Alta California, of a hundred men. Estrada at length reached Purisima Concepcion, where the victorious mission Indians of that place were still entrenched, armed with muskets and two small cannon. They did not know how to use their strength, however, and Estrada's four-pounder did such execution among them that they decided to flee. They were cut off and compelled to surrender.

  Sixteen Indians had been killed and many more wounded. Three of the attacking force were wounded, one of them mortally. Several more battles were fought in this campaign, but these took place across the mountains in the Tulares, where their three successive expeditions followed the fugitives from Santa Barbara. Eventually, peace was made, and most of the Indians returned to the mission. In November 1825, Lieutenant Colonel Echiendia arrived from Mexico to become governor of the

  province. He has been described as, quote, a tall, thin, juiceless man, possessing but little enterprise or force of character, and much concerned about the effect of California climate on his not-too-robust health, end quote. The new governor was to be largely responsible for many of the troubles which Alta California suffered in the ensuing years. One of them he started right away when he fixed his residence at San Diego instead of going to Monterrey,

  thus making a beginning of the conflict between North and South, which was to continue for the rest of the era. He had been appointed governor of Baja California as well, and asserted that he could take care of the two provinces much better from San Diego than from the capital in the North. It was generally recognized, however, that he feared the climate of Monterrey would prove too rigorous for him. Of Echiendia's ill-advised handling of the missions, more will be said

  presently. Meanwhile, he got into difficulties with the soldiers, who had for years been obliged to get on without pay, and who became more and more disgruntled when Echiendia, who was indeed at wit's ends for funds, did nothing to help them. The soldiers at Monterrey revolted in 1828, but were persuaded to resume their duties. In November 1829, however, they decided to revolt in earnest. The principal officers at that post were seized, and a certain rancher named Joaquin

  Solis, ex-soldier and more recently ex-convict, was installed in command. A proclamation was drawn up reciting their grievances against Echiendia and announcing their intention of setting up a new governor. Various foreigners in Monterrey contributed funds for the enterprise, and the garrison of San Francisco declared for the revolt. After the first flush of excitement, the rebellion lost its grip. The criminal record of the leader

  was a grave handicap. To save the situation, Solis resolved upon a campaign in the South. At first all was bright. The mission fathers, influenced no doubt by their dislike of Echiendia, received him graciously on the way. The garrison at Santa Barbara got one of his proclamations and rose in his favor. And then again the tide turned. The soldiers of Santa Barbara were persuaded to resume their allegiance. Echiendia presently reached that post, and a little later

  Solis and his army appeared from the North. The battle of Santa Barbara, which followed, was indeed of several days' duration, but in the main it was a war of words. Solis fired the last gun in the shape of a proclamation announcing that he and his men were ready to fight and never would surrender until they got their pay, shortly after which he beat a retreat. Echiendia's batteries in the shape of promises to forgive those who would come over to his side had meanwhile wrought great

  execution in Solis's ranks through desertion. Echiendia advanced to Monterey, captured Solis and other ringleaders, and shipped them off to Mexico. Thus ended the first revolt of the Californians against constituted Mexican authority. The government, and the South as against the North, had proved victorious in a bloodless war. Echiendia found that the climate of Monterey was endurable after all, and remained there for a year. Indeed, when the newly appointed governor,

  Lieutenant Colonel Victoria, asked him to come to San Diego to surrender his office, Echiendia nevertheless stayed on at Monterey and would not even go to Santa Barbara where he was next requested to appear. So Victoria came north to Monterey and was installed in office in January 1831, and now that he was already in Monterey made that place his capital. Thus Monterey came into its own again, and indirectly through the agency of the man who had formerly deprived it

  of its proud position. Footnote. Echiendia all but robbed California of its name in 1827. He persuaded the Deputacion to change it to Montezuma, a coat of arms who was planned to consist of an Indian with plume, bow and quiver in the act of crossing a strait, all within an oval, having on the outside an olive and an oak, in memory of the first peopling of the Americas, which according to the most common opinion was by the strait to Vanean.

  The act required the approval of the Mexican government, which it never received, and so it came to naught. In footnote. Victoria was primarily a soldier, out of sympathy with the republican institutions and a firm believer in military methods and civil administration. He began a campaign against evildoers, which was somewhat too rigorous. Sentences of death and execution followed in rapid succession. This was well enough,

  but when the governor showed a disposition also to run roughshod over political opponents, the spark of revolution was kindled. The missionaries, whose cause he had defended, were soon almost alone in supporting him. The revolt broke out in the South, late in 1831, being fostered by men like Jose Antonio Carrillo, Juan Bandini, Pio Pico, and Abel Stearns, an American who had come to California in 1829. These were among the most prominent people in

  that section. Leadership in the enterprise was offered to Echidandia, who had returned to San Diego after the expiration of his term of office. He accepted, and operations began with the capture of San Diego and Los Angeles, which were taken by the rebels without a battle. Meanwhile, Governor Victoria with some 30 disciplined soldiers had hurried South. The insurgents under Captain Pablo Portilla of San Diego numbered perhaps as many as 150,

  but most of them were untrained. The two armies met just a few miles from Los Angeles near Cahuenga Pass. The battle which followed did not result in great loss of life, but was perhaps as spectacular as any that was ever fought in the province. It began when Victoria, despising his opponents, advanced alone and called on Portilla and his regulars to come over to his side. He then directed his own men to fire a volley, presumably in order to frighten the enemy's raw

  recruits without hurting them. The southern soldiery replied with a few shots, and then started to run away, whereupon Victoria and Captain Romualdo Pacheco, followed by one or two others, rode forward to pursue them. Up to this time nobody had been hit, but the governor had made a miscalculation which was to cost him dear. In the opposing army, where several individuals have must have been desirous of emulating the achievements of the Knights of Old in the days

  when battles were entrusted to champions of the warring forces in single combat. Such a person, it seems, was Jose Maria Avila. Sword in hand, he made a thundering charge against Pacheco, who, for his part, rode to meet him with lance ready for action. Their horses passed, but Avila checked his steed, drew a pistol, and shot Pacheco, killing him instantly. Looking for more worlds to conquer, he threw himself upon Victoria.

  Other horsemen on both sides joined in the conflict. In the ensuing melee, Avila was unhorsed and killed, Victoria received several lance wounds, and at least one other was wounded. Unauthenticated popular versions of the battle have it that Avila himself wounded Victoria, and that it was the governor who killed the fire-eating Avila. The battle was over, and Victoria remained in possession of the field. Virtually, however,

  the impetuous Avila had turned the scale in favor of the Californians. Victoria wounded, saw matters in a different light than Victoria's sound and body would have viewed them. Instead of capturing Los Angeles and quelling the revolt, he betook himself to bed at San Gabriel, and from there informed Echidandía that he was not only willing, but even desirous that he be sent to Mexico, promising to return no more. His offer was accepted, and several weeks later he

  took his departure. With their experience of the militarist Victoria fresh in mind, the Californians resolved to separate the civil from the military functions of government. The Diputacion, as the provincial legislature was called, elected Pio Pico's civil governor, Efe Politico, in January 1832. Less than three weeks later, however, he was obliged to resign, primarily on account of Echidandía's failure to support him. It now seems that Echidandía had a

  clear field, but unexpected opposition developed in the north. The foreigners of British and American extraction had been inclined to favor Victoria in the late controversy because he, at least, stood for good order. Californian revolutions might not cause much loss of life, but they were bad for business, and that was what the foreign colony was interested in, most of all. To them, it seemed that the disputes of Pico and Echidandía portended

  a continuance of disorder. They, therefore, joined readily in a movement to set up Agustín Zamorano, former gubernatorial secretary to Echidandía in Victoria. Under leadership of William Hartnell, a foreign company was formed to defend Monterrey from attack. The Hispanic population of the north was equally well disposed to Zamorano, influenced possibly by Echidandía's evident intention of remaining at San Diego instead of coming to Monterrey. Zamorano was

  therefore acknowledged as temporary governor until such time as the Mexican authorities should appoint a successor to the deposed Victoria. One of the earliest measures of Zamorano's government was to send an armed force south under Lieutenant Juan María Ibarra to defend Santa Barbara against an attack by Echidandía. Ibarra pushed on until he reached Los Angeles. Then came rumors that Echidandía was about to attack him. As the story went, the Mission Indians, who, as is presently to

  be explained, were devoted partisans of Echidandía, were flocking to his standard. Ibarra decided, therefore, to retreat. On his way, he found a veritable enemy in his rear in the shape of a score of armed convicts. These were captured and sent to Monterrey. The war now actively entered into the proclamation stage. The pen proved mightier than the sword, and in May both sides agreed to call it a draw. An arrangement was made whereby Zamorano and Echidandía should each remain

  in power until a governor from Mexico arrived. It is interesting to note that Zamorano's sphere of control was to extend as far south as San Fernando, while San Gabriel was the limit of Echidandía's sway. In January 1833, the new governor from Mexico arrived. He was José Figuroa, assuredly one of the greatest figures in the history of Alta California. A Brevet Brigadier General, he had also been governor of Sonora and Sinaloa for six years, and had interested

  himself in the reopening of the Anzarute to the Pacific coast. Wars with the Yaquis and the Apaches had kept him from putting his plan into effect, but he had made himself fully aware of the importance of the northern province and the desirability of developing its resources. Ill health led him to seek retirement almost from the moment of his arrival, and brought about his death some two years and a half later. Yet he was to accomplish more than any governor of the province ever had,

  with a possible exception of never. One of Figuroa's first acts had to do with the grant of an amnesty to all who had been concerned in the late revolt. This announcement he caused to be published in a circular dated January 16, 1833, the first printing in the history of the province. He then applied himself with more than usual success to internal administration. If he had confined himself merely to that, he would undoubtedly have been regarded as one of

  the great governors, but he aspired to something more. He had been instructed to explore the regions north of the Bay of San Francisco and found settlements to defend that country against the Russians of Fort Ross and the English along the Columbia. Unlike some of his predecessors who had received similar commands, Figuroa at once took action and chose Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo as his instrument. Vallejo was at the time an alferes at San Francisco. Son of Ignacio Vallejo,

  who came with Rivera in 1774, and brother of Jose Vallejo, who had distinguished himself in the Bouchard affair, he himself had won honors in several Indian campaigns and in provincial politics, though only 25 years old. Figuroa sent him north of the Bay to explore for a presidial site. Vallejo made a trip to Bodega and Fort Ross in April 1833, and in the fall established a colony of ten settlers at Petaluma, and a smaller colony at Santa Rosa. In May of the

  following year, Figuroa learned that his petition to retire had been acted upon favorably, and that his successor, Jose Maria Hier, was coming to Alt California with a great body of colonists. In August, therefore, Figuroa himself inspected the North Bay country in order to make some preparations for the expected colonists. He went as far as Fort Ross. On his return, however, he received a message which gave him pause in his plans. Ever since the change of flag from Spain to

  Mexico, the Mexican government had encouraged colonization of Alt California. A law of 1824 made liberal provision for intending settlers. Not content with this, the authorities resorted to other means which occasioned no little resentment. They began to use Alt California as a penal colony. Seventeen convicts arrived in 1825, including the already mentioned Joaquin Solis. Within another year, more than a hundred others had been sent, and in 1830 a shipload of eighty

  arrived. In 1833, a new project was set on foot in Mexico by Jose Maria Padres. Padres had been in Alt California for a time where he had conceived a plan for the spoilation of the missions under the guise of secular administration of the temporalities. He won support from many who hoped to share in the proceeds. Exiled by Victoria in 1831, he built up a project of colonization around the same idea of utilizing the mission wealth. In Jose Maria Hyar, he found the man he needed to back his projects,

  and the two together procured the support of the national government. Hyar was to be civil governor and director of colonization, and a subordinate post was provided for Padres. The government offered allowances in pay, implements, seed, and domestic animals to all who would go. Wherefore, Hyar and Padres got together about 120 colonists of better than usual quality, and left San Blas in July 1834 in two ships. Footnote. One of the colonists was Jose Maria

  Covarrubias, later a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1849, and the first four legislatures of the state. End quote. At about that same time, there was a change in government in Mexico. The new president was distrustful of the Hyar-Padres project. Too late to stop the expedition, he resolved to send a messenger over the Anza route, directing Figueroa not to turn over the government to Hyar, whose commission he had revoked. The emissary, Rafael Amador by name,

  made a phenomenal overland journey from Mexico to Monterrey in from 40 to 48 days, traveling mostly alone, barely escaping death at the hands of the Indians of the Colorado, and nearly perishing from thirst in the desert. Naturally, Figueroa's attitude toward the coming settlers underwent a change. Hyar, with one of his ships, had already put in at San Diego on September 1st. From there, he proceeded by land to Monterrey, telling the mission Indians,

  as he went along, that he had come to free them. Padres, with the other vessel, reached Monterrey on September 25th. Several members of the Deputacion had formerly been prominent supporters of Padres' secularization plan, but now they turned against him upon learning that he had promised many of his colonists the same profitable employment as mission administrators, which, several years before, he had promised them. They therefore voted that Figueroa should continue to

  be the governor, and should make such provisions for the colonists as he might see fit. Hyar tried argument and bribery in order to induce Figueroa to give him the administration of the missions, but without avail. It was eventually decided to send the colonists north of the bay, and the missions were called upon to supply them with food until the settlers could raise crops of their own. They might have starved, however, if it had not been for Mariano Vallejo, who caused

  them to be transferred to the Sonoma Valley and furnished with provisions during the winter. In the end, the colonists dispersed, though most of them remained in the North Bay District. Hyar and Padres were presently accused of having been implicated in a minor outbreak at Los Angeles in March 1835, and were sent back to Mexico. Relieved of their embarrassing presence, Figueroa went actively ahead with measures for colonization during the few remaining months of

  his life. He made a number of land grants to individual settlers, as indeed he had done before. While in Los Angeles, he met William Antonio Richardson, an Englishman born, who, as a youth of 22, had reached Alta California in 1822 as mate of a British ship, which he deserted. Figueroa induced Richardson to accept an appointment as captain of the port of San Francisco. Richardson went there and put up the first building in San Francisco other than those at

  the less conveniently located Presidio and Mission. Around this house, as a nucleus, a settlement called Yerbawana sprang up, where the shipping and business interests of the Bay region centered, eventually to become the principal district of the city of San Francisco. By Figueroa's order, too, a town was founded at Sonoma, then so named, in 1835 by Vallejo, near the mission San Francisco Solano. Figueroa is most often remembered in connection with the

  secularization of the missions. It will be recalled that in theory the Spanish missions were limited to a period of 10 years, after which they were to be converted into civilian towns and the missionaries were to move on to a new field. Nothing like that had ever been attempted in Alta California, and rarely, if ever elsewhere. In 1813, the Spanish Cortes passed a law calling for the immediate secularization of all missions which had existed as such for 10 years or more.

  This law was not published in Alta California until 1821, but nothing was done to carry it into effect. Indeed, there were no priests to replace the friars. The missions at that time were perhaps at or near their greatest period of prosperity. The number of Indians under mission control was still very large, and the mission properties were easily the greater part of the wealth of the province. For 10 years, they had been the principal support to the military

  establishment, but that expense could be written off as a dead loss without seriously impairing their financial position. Nevertheless, the missions were already doomed of their own weight, irrespective of any legislation that might be passed. For years, deaths at the mission had outrun births, and the growing deficiency could not be supplied by conversions of the non-Christian tribes, since these either were not present at all in the mission area, or else in very scant

  number. Inevitably, the same fate was in store for the Californian Indians that has been the lot of other backward peoples in the presence of white civilization. Under the most favorable circumstances, the end might have been postponed longer than it was, but more could hardly have been expected. Pressure began to be put upon the missions from the outset of Mexican rule. Taxes were imposed. The friars protested, but paid. Nothing of importance happened, however,

  until after the arrival of Echidandía. This governor, if anybody other than the Mexican authorities, and not Figueroa, is the one who should be charged with precipitating the downfall of the missions, although it was in the administration of the latter that the decisive step was taken. Cognizant of the fact that Mexican sentiment strongly favored secularization, Echidandía resolved upon a policy to bring his own government into accord with the prevailing view.

  In 1826, therefore, he issued an order that married Indians to the missions south of Monterey were to be allowed to leave the missions, provided they had been Christians for 15 years or from infancy, and were esteemed capable of supporting themselves. This preliminary measure had scant effect. Indeed, there were few Indians who could have maintained themselves in a civilized manner. In 1827, the Mexican law called for the expulsion of all friars from the Republic,

  but this, too, was virtually a dead letter in Alta California. Of far more importance was a provincial law of 1830 prepared by Echidandía in response to urgings from Mexico and promulgated with the approval of a national government. This provided for gradual secularization of the missions. The mere announcement of the law was enough to occasion a great change. There was a more or less general feeling of opposition to the

  friars. The rank and file of the soldiery, still unpaid, often in rags, and depended upon the missions for the little they had, looked with envy or indignation at the comparative opulence of the friars and their native wards. Others were eager to enhance their private fortune by spoilation of the missions, or else felt aggrieved by the objections of the friars to grants of land they had received, which the missionaries claimed infringed upon their holdings.

  Few were possessed of a religious ardor which might have arranged them on the side of the friars, or they had grown up without priests, except at such intervals as the Franciscans came in from the missions to act in the capacity of curates. Not a few pointed out that mission servitude accorded ill with republican ideas. Of more account was the attitude of the mission Indians. They understood that Etchandia was about to give them freedom, but freedom to them meant

  cessation from work, the end of punishments, a right to do as they pleased, and a permanent food supply from an unending mission store. They listened readily to those who told them that the friars were robbing them of their lands, or treating them with undue cruelty, as well as to those who painted the prospective freedom in brightest colors. Personal attachment to the missionaries held many to their tasks, but it was increasingly difficult to get the others to do

  anything at all. Etchandia made matters worse by appointing agents on his own initiative to manage the mission estates on behalf of the emancipated Indians. At the time Figueroa came to Alt California, the immediate overthrow of the missions seems not to have been contemplated. Indeed, he was accompanied by ten friars sent out to supply rapidly growing vacancies. These friars were Franciscans, but not from the College of San Fernando, which was no longer able to

  provide missionaries. They and their leader, Francisco Garcia Diego, were from the College of Zacatecas. Figueroa had been instructed to proceed with gradual secularization, but to restore the missions to the position they held before Etchandia's unauthorized acts. A few months after his arrival, Figueroa started south on a mission tour. He found that Etchandia had caused mischief beyond repair. Mission discipline along former lines was utterly gone.

  On the other hand, he saw enough to convince himself that immediate secularization would be unwise, since the Indians were incapable of managing their own affairs. Indeed, the institution of private property, especially in land, had little meaning to them. Something had to be done, however, so he issued an order for the emancipation of such Indians as were best fitted for liberty. Lands, implements, seed, and animals were to be allotted to them,

  though in other respects they were to remain for the time being subject to the civil and religious authorities. Yet, of the 59 heads of families at San Diego deemed worthy of this prospect, only two cared to make the trial. Well, 10 out of 108 accepted at San Luis Rey. Surely a most disappointing showing. Figueroa was now in substantial agreement with Garcia and Duran, the two father presidents, that secularization was inadvisable unless upon

  a gradual basis, and wrote to Mexico in protest against any legislation to hasten the process. He also opposed granting any of the mission lands to intending colonists, holding that they should be reserved for the Indians alone. And yet, Figueroa was called upon to execute the most drastic measure of secularization that had thus far been enacted.

  In August 1833, the Mexican government declared itself unequivocally for secularization. A supplemental act of November associated colonization, with a Padre's E.R. project in mind, with secularization, and proposed to make use of the Pius Fund to assist in the plan. Another law of April 1834 insisted that secularization should go into effect within four months. Figueroa had of necessity to execute these laws, but did what he could to save something out of

  the wreck. He even stretched the law by providing for gradual secularization, though somewhat more hastened than formerly, instead of completing it in four months. The following were the principal provisions of his decree dated August 9, 1834. A beginning was to be made with ten of the missions only. Roughly speaking, half of the mission properties were to be distributed among the Indians. The rest were to be put in charge of secular administrators for the support of the

  religious establishment and other objects for the public good. The Indians were required to perform indispensable community work and could not legally sell their lands or chattels. Cattle were not to be killed in large numbers, except as should be necessary for purposes of maintenance. For several years, an indiscriminate slaughter of mission cattle had been going on, thousands being killed for their hides only. These were added to the mission store, but it has been

  denied that the friars authorized the killings. On the contrary, it is asserted that they tried, without success, to prevent them. In footnote. Finally, in the absence of curates, the friars were to remain at the missions in charge of religious instruction. This legislation was not perfect, but was perhaps as good as could be expected under the circumstances. The proof that it accomplished something is that the missions remained in existence for more than a decade,

  and almost to the very end were still able to provide the greater part of the provincial revenues. Unfortunately, Figueroa did not live long enough to supervise the execution of his decree, and it was precisely the execution of the decree, and not the decree itself, which was responsible for such harm as resulted. As one writer says, He was not the author of secularization. He did not even approve it. He foresaw the disaster that

  must follow if the law of August 1833 were enforced as he was required to enforce it, and he did what he could, and as much as any man could have done, to confine the mischief within the narrowest limits." Administrators were appointed for 10 of the missions in 1834, for 6 more in 1835, and for the other 5 in 1836. After the death of Figueroa, Alta California suffered for several years from internal convulsions.

  During all this time the administrators were left to their own devices. Many of them enriched both themselves and their friends. Still others were merely incompetent, and a few, perhaps, were both honest and capable. The distributions of property to the Indians were made as each administrator saw fit. The worst feature of the system, however, was the behavior of the Indians. Relieved from mission discipline, they refused to work. Despite the provisions of

  the law, they sold their properties, especially domestic animals, for anything they would bring. When their own stock of supplies was gone, some hired themselves out in a state of virtual slavery to such families as could employ them. Others joined the non-Christian tribesmen in horse-stealing and life in a state of barbarism, and still others sank to the uttermost depths of degradation. The missions and the mission system were dead. And yet the corpse lived on. Some Indians,

  indeed, had returned to the secularized missions. With the re-establishment of peace, an earnest attempt was made to remedy affairs. Early in 1839, Governor Alvarado appointed William Hartnell, a man of high character and notable attainments, the citador of the missions with authority to correct abuses that had sprung up. Hartnell made a tour of the missions and found that they had greatly deteriorated. At his suggestion, he himself was made superintendent

  of the entire system, and the administrators became mere clerical subordinates held to strict accountability. When he endeavored to put the new regulation into effect in 1840, however, he met with so much opposition on the part of certain administrators that he resigned. Thus ended the most promising effort of the times at restoration of the missions. It was in 1840, too, that the former Zacatecan father president, Garcia Diego, was invested with

  the authority of a bishop of the two Californias. He was empowered to use the Pius Fund to establish a cathedral and a college for the education of priests. It seemed now that the long-delayed delivery to the secular clergy of the religious side of the mission work might be made when, presto, a new government in Mexico refused to turn over the Pius Fund to Bishop Garcia and diverted it into the Mexican treasury. In 1843, the missions seemed at length to be exhausted.

  In hopes of making them yield more profitably, Governor Michael Torrena restored them to the friars. But the corpse was now indeed too dead to be resuscitated. So, in 1844, in order to raise funds for general defense in view of the possibility of war between the United States and Mexico, Michael Torrena authorized the sale or rental of the missions. In the next two years, all but Santa Barbara passed into private hands, though the titles of purchasers were subsequently

  invalidated by the United States government. At the time of the transfer, but little was left. In February 1844, Father Duran reported that San Miguel and San Luis Obispo were virtually abandoned. Burisma Concepcion had about 200 Indians, as against 1,522 in 1804. Santa Barbara had 287, compared with 1,892 in 1803, and the other southern missions were in an utterly hopeless condition. On June 1, 1846, Narciso Duran, who had resided in Alta California 40 years and had been father

  president most of the time since 1825—1825 to 1827, 1831 to 1838, and 1844 to 1846—died in his 70th year. He has been called the last and perhaps the ablest of the Franciscan prelates, but as the outstanding figure in the decline, he must of necessity yield place to the more fortunate Serra and La Sueyne. However that may be, his death is taken as marking the end of the missions. No successor was appointed, for none was needed.

• 35 - Waiting for Old Gloriy, 1835-1847

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  35. Waiting for Old Glory, 1835-1847 After Figueroa's death, Alta California entered upon a checkered career of no definite tendency, unless it were that the province was driving rapidly toward a fresh change of flag. Home rule, restoration of Mexican governors, and home rule again followed in rapid succession. Internal dissension marked the periods of home rule,

  while the United Front was presented against the Mexican governors. Meanwhile, infiltration of American settlers was constantly going on. That was the decisive factor. No fewer than four men, one of them for two terms, held the office of governor in 1836. José Castro had succeeded Figueroa in 1835, but some of the southern leaders objected to him.

  One of them, José Antonio Carrillo, as provincial deputy in the Mexican Congress, had procured an act making Los Angeles the capital. The Diputación declined to go to Los Angeles and recognized Castro. He resigned on January 2, 1836, in favor of Lieutenant Colonel Gutiérrez, who had all along been accepted as a military commandant, the jefe militar.

  In April, Colonel Mariano Chico arrived from Mexico as the new governor, and in May took over the office. Chico lasted three months, during which time he made himself the most hated ruler the province ever had. He began by announcing the New Mexican Centralist Constitution, replacing the Federalist document of 1824,

  and this was accepted as easily as all previous governmental changes had been. This was about the only action he took that did not stir up opposition. The climax came when he appeared in the place of honor at a public function, accompanied by his mistress, whom he endeavored to pass off as his niece, and by a woman under arrest at the time for adultery.

  The uproar over this incident was so great that Chico took refuge on board ship, and on July 31 sailed from Monterrey to Mexico. Gutiérrez resumed power, but was unable to check the dissatisfaction of the Californians. As a centralist, he was unpopular, not because of any real objection to that political idea, but because Chico had espoused it.

  The Californians felt that it was time they should have a governor of their own choosing. A quarrel with Gutiérrez gave Juan Batista Alvarado an opportunity to put himself at the head of a revolution. Alvarado was only 27, but was already a leading figure in the province, endowed, perhaps, with greater political capacity than any man of those times. Much better informed than most Californians, as a result of his readings when a mere stripling in Solaz Library,

  he became secretary of the Diputacion at 17 years of age, and in 1836 was a full-fledged deputy in that body and a Custom House official. Following his dispute with Gutiérrez over questions of provincial revenue, Alvarado left Monterrey and went to Sonoma. There he tried to persuade his uncle, Mariano Vallejo, to join him in a revolt against Gutiérrez and centralism,

  but Vallejo was lukewarm. Arrived at San José on his return, he found three of his fellow deputies, Antonio Buelna, José Castro, and José Antonio de la Guerra, son of the already mentioned Captain de la Guerra, who enthusiastically subscribed to his plan. A party of 13 men was formed to march on Monterrey.

  On the way, other Californians joined them until they numbered about 75, and presently they were reinforced by a terror-inspiring band of Mexicans, Indians, and Americans under Isaac Graham, a celebrated American trapper and marksman who had set up a distillery in the Pajaro Valley. The army now proceeded to Monterrey. Late on November 3rd, Alvarado quietly took possession of various strategic points of Monterrey,

  and on the 4th, the battle began. Alvarado made his forces seem larger than they were by marching them in the open from one place to another and causing them to return unseen, perhaps to repeat the open march again. Then he ordered his men to start firing. Only a single ball could be found that would fit any of the cannon,

  but with this they hit the governor's house. That ended the battle. Gutiérrez surrendered and was put aboard a ship bound for Mexico. Alvarado had won, but now he had the much more difficult task of consolidating the many divergent elements under his own authority. Virtually dominated by him, the Diputación declared the independence of the province on November 7th, 1836,

  under the name of the Free and Sovereign State of Alta California, with a qualification to the effect that it was to endure until Mexico returned to the Federalist Constitution of 1824. Alvarado became governor and Monterrey was recognized as the capital while the Diputación took itself to the new title of Constituent Congress. It soon developed that Los Angeles was not in favor of independence.

  So, in January 1837, Alvarado tried the persuasive argument of a quick march south. A much threatened resistance did not develop and he entered Los Angeles on the 23rd. The southern metropolis now discovered that it had no objection whatsoever to Alvarado. Indeed, it announced itself as equally opposed to Centralism and Mexican governors, though doubtful of the wisdom of independence.

  Alvarado agreed to hold elections for a new legislative body which should review the proceedings of the self-styled Constituent Congress. Thereupon, Los Angeles most gracefully submitted. The elections were held and the new body confirmed the main features of the laws made by the old, except that it substituted a petition to Mexico to restore Federalism

  and let Alta California govern itself for the previous Declaration of Independence. The lull following the agreement with Los Angeles was but temporary. With the coming of spring, young men's fancies both north and south turned lightly to thoughts of revolution. The opposition in the south was the more formidable. Former governors Alvarado headed a movement at San Diego ostensibly for restoration of Mexican rule.

  Los Angeles fell into line and presently the now familiar scene of sectional differences reached the crucial stage. Northern troops were at Rincón Pass near San Buenaventura and southern troops at San Fernando. Battle was imminent when suddenly all was changed by a factor as strange, if not so spectacular, as the famous Avila Charge against Governor Victoria. Captain Andrés Castellero, who had left Alta California with Gutierrez,

  now returned with a new centralist constitution of 1836. Since it represented opposition to Alvarado, the hitherto supposedly Federalist South adopted it with enthusiasm. Early in July, Castellero passed over to Alvarado's lines and Alvarado also accepted it. Nothing could show more clearly than this that political ideals in Alta California

  were little more than catchphrases behind which individuals fought for power. The Californians were merely in the stage of boss rule which characterized other Spanish-American lands of that day. Alvarado's action was due, no doubt, to his own precarious hold on the governorship. Even in Monterrey there had recently been a temporarily successful uprising against him. By swearing allegiance to the Mexican constitution,

  he was unable to retain power as acting governor and got Castellero's promise to urge his formal appointment by the authorities in Mexico. The South was not satisfied, but now had no plausible issues, so the revolution died a-burning. The old regime was restored and with it the Diputacion returned as successor to the Constituent Congress. The South was not long in finding an issue with which to combat Alvarado and the North.

  José Antonio Carrillo came back from Mexico in October 1837 with the information that his brother, Carlos Antonio, had been appointed governor. Nothing in Alvarado's career illustrates his political cleverness better than his handling of this situation. He knew that Castellero could not have reached Mexico by the time of Carrillo's appointment and had well-grounded beliefs that there was something questionable about the Carrillo case anyway.

  So he played for time, depending on Castellero to arrange matters eventually in Mexico, and feeling certain that the Mexican government, occupied as it was with more pressing affairs, would recognize the claimant in Alta California with the firmest grip. So while the Carrillos fulminated, issuing demands and threatening him with death, Alvarado proposed conferences or sought other means to postpone the issue.

  By March 1838, he had some intimations that his cause had triumphed and resolved to further it by striking at the Carrillos. The Southern troops were leisurely besieging Santa Barbara, which had refused to submit to them. Alvarado sent Castro south to attack them. Joining the garrison of Santa Barbara, Castro got together a force of about a hundred men

  and advanced against the enemy, reported to number 110. The battle was fought at San Buenaventura. Castro seized Rinconpas and bombarded the Southern troops with cannon shot on March 27th and 28th. During this time, one of Castro's men was killed, just how it cannot be stated, while there is no record that any of the enemy were hit.

  The Carrillo army seems to have decided that the battle had gone far enough and slipped away under cover of darkness. Castro pursued and captured 70 of them. It was the 1st of April when the triumphant Northern captain entered Los Angeles. But the Carrillos were not yet ready to admit defeat.

  A new army was raised at San Diego, wherefor Alvarado himself marched south. At a point south of San Juan Capistrano, called Las Flores, the two armies met, but hardly clashed. The battle, as Bancroft says, "...was for the most part one of tongue and pen, though a cannon was fired once or twice, doing no harm." Alvarado was more than a match for Carlos Carrillo in diplomacy,

  persuading him to disband his troops as a preliminary to further discussion. This virtually ended opposition to Alvarado. Los Angeles recognized him as governor, though San Diego for some time remained hostile. Not until August 1838 did Alvarado learn definitely that Castillero had been successful, and not until November did he receive formal notification of his appointment.

  Castillero was rewarded presently by an election to the Mexican Congress. Alta California now settled down to a few years of much-needed freedom from internal disorder. Battles of the past few years had indeed caused little bloodshed, but the lack of security of life-limit property had been very real. One has only to read the original narratives of men like Alfred Robinson, an American merchant in California,

  to realize that there was no element of comic opera to them in the Civil Wars of the 30s. Alvarado turned his attention after 1838 to many problems of administration which had, for several years, been allowed to drag along as they would. Among other matters was that of dealing with the Indians. Along the entire frontier they had become more than usually bold.

  On one occasion they abducted a rancher's two daughters. On another they drove off 1,200 animals from San Luis Obispo. Many battles were fought, especially by Vallejo, who was the most successful campaigner of the times. The administration of the missions, the reorganization of the government, which had recently been reunited to Baja California and made a full-fledged department of the Mexican Republic,

  the consideration of the laws of trade and custom regulations, and the repair of the military establishment were more or less actively taken up. In these matters, Alvarado did not meet with such striking success as in the factional strife of the preceding years, though it is doubtful that anybody else could have done better. He was charged, indeed, that from about 1839 he concerned himself rather more with convivial pleasures than with the affairs of state.

  Meanwhile, a formidable rival appeared on the scene and the person of his uncle, Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo. Vallejo had been appointed military governor or comandante at the same time that the civil authority was formally bestowed upon Alvarado by the Mexican government. For years, Vallejo had been not only an efficient soldier, but also a capable businessman and virtual ruler of the North Bay District,

  undoubtedly the best-managed section of Alta California. Vallejo did not propose to place second fiddle to Alvarado in military affairs and started in on his own initiative to exact the same discipline at other posts that he had long maintained in the North. He also tendered gratuitous advice to Alvarado on such other matters as foreign trade, revenue, and administration of the missions, and on this last-named subject he might indeed make valuable suggestions

  since he had supervised the missions in his vicinity with greater success than had been met with anywhere else. It was not long before a pronounced coolness developed between the two. The trouble also seemed likely to break out in the South under José Antonio Carrillo or Pío Pico, the latter of whom had deeply resented the refusal of Alvarado's government to set up Los Angeles as the capital. In addition, there were rumors of plotting on the part of the less desirable foreigners

  who made a rendezvous of Graham's Bar and boasted that England or the United States would soon get Alta California. These incidents decided the political-minded Alvarado to make a spectacular play. In April 1840, Alvarado caused Graham and a number of others of his following to be arrested, and four days later they would put aboard ship 39 and all and sent to Mexico. Yet other precautions were taken against the alleged foreign peril,

  and glowing proclamations were published telling how Alvarado had saved the country. Thus did the governor ward off threatened internal strife, a strife which was more apt to have arisen among his Spanish Californian opponents than from Graham and his men. As for Graham, Ian about half his companions were allowed to return in the following year. Both that year and the next, foreigners arrived in ever-increasing numbers,

  but Alvarado did not again take action. Friction between himself and Vallejo developed to such a point, however, that the Mexican government resolved to reunite the civil and military power in one person. To avoid offending either Alvarado or Vallejo, it was necessary to relieve both of their authority and to send out a governor from Mexico,

  though the two Spanish Californians received a notable promotion in military rank. On December 31, 1842, their rule came to an end. Both continued to be prominent in California affairs, Vallejo especially, and both lived many years after the change of flag, and indeed to a green old age. The new governor, General Manuel Michael Torrena, was a genial gentleman

  who was in many ways deserving of better fortune than fate accorded him as ruler of the Californias, though he was a man of no great strength. Remembering that Texas had been lost to the Republic as a result of the coming of American settlers, the Mexican authorities were particularly desirous of checking this potential danger. They therefore made an unusual effort to provide Michael Torrena with an army.

  But such an army, the majority were liberated convicts, and the regulars that were provided, officers and all, were the worst elements in the commands from which they were obtained. The term Cholos, which the Californians applied to them, is indicative of the low character of these defenders of the country. Alfred Robinson, who was at San Diego when Michael Torrena and his Cholos arrived on August 25, 1842,

  has this to say of the soldiery. They presented a state of wretchedness and misery unequaled. Not one individual among them possessed a jacket or pantaloons. Naked and like the savage Indians, they concealed their nudity with dirty, miserable blankets. The females were not much better off, for the scantiness of their mean apparel was too apparent for modest observers.

  They appeared like convicts, and indeed the greater part of them had been charged with a crime either of murder or theft. And these were the soldiers sent to subdue this happy country. Michael Torrena, who managed indeed to provide his men with uniforms, remained at San Diego for several weeks. By day he kept them busy drilling, but at night they roamed far and wide, stealing whatever they could lay hands upon. It was with pleasure that San Diego saw them depart.

  Los Angeles and Santa Barbara soon learned that a most astonishing thing had occurred. On October 19, 1842, Monterey had been required to surrender to an American fleet under Commodore Thomas Jones. In the double belief that war between the United States and Mexico had been declared, and that England was desirous of picking up Alta California for herself, Jones had made a hurried voyage from Peru and had indeed taken possession of Monterey.

  Michael Torrena, then at San Fernando, issued a fiery proclamation announcing his impatience to fly at the dastardly invader, but decided that for the present he could fly better from a point further south. So he returned to Los Angeles. Meanwhile, convinced of his mistake, Jones had hauled down the American flag on the 21st and restored the status quo. Michael Torrena remained at Los Angeles until July 1843, receiving formal delivery, by proxy, of Alvarado's government while still at that place.

  The citizens of Los Angeles saw him go with mingled joy and regret. Joy over the departure of the Cholos, but regret because it meant loss of the prestige what they so greatly desired of being the seat of government. Monterey rejoiced, but soon realized that their armed protectors were the worst pests they had ever been obliged to endure. Michael Torrena could not check the depredations of his Cholos, but frequently made good their thefts out of his own pocket. The crimes of his soldiers were but one of Michael Torrena's many difficulties.

  Alvarado had left the treasury with exactly 25 cents in it. Provincial revenues, always too scant to serve provincial needs, were now more heavily strained than ever if only to sustain the Cholo army. The governor did what he could to obtain sufficient funds, but without conspicuous success. With respect to the Americans, now rapidly pouring through the mountain passes, he did nothing. Indeed, with the forces at his command, he could hardly have expelled those already in the province or prevented those who sought to come.

  So, he took the opposite course, and received them with kindness and, often, humane attentions. The Indians of the interior were not less active than before, and Pio Pico again raised the issue of making Los Angeles the capital, and was incensed at the governor when he vetoed the plan. Talk of revolution once more became current, despite the personal popularity of Michael Torrena himself. As summed up by one writer, quote,

  The Californians, or some of the most influential among them, began to regret the union of the civil with the military power and to be dissatisfied with the rule of a foreigner. They did not dislike Michael Torrena himself. On the contrary, he had won their regard by his agreeable manners, his generosity in making them whole, and perhaps more than whole when his cholos despoiled them, and perhaps also by his indolence which so closely resembled their own. He had quite won the favor of the friars by restoring the missions to their care, and by marrying the mistress he had brought with him from Mexico.

  He had established better schools in the pueblos and principal settlements than had ever been known before in California, and he had helped the bishop to establish an ecclesiastical seminary at Santa Ines. In fact, no foreign governor since Borica had done so much to win the favor of his people, end quote. The revolution at length broke out in November 1844. After several weeks of maneuvering between Salinas and Santa Clara, an agreement was reached in December,

  according to which Michael Torrena was to send his cholos back to Mexico within three months. It soon afterward became apparent that the governor had no intention of fulfilling the treaty, but on the contrary was getting ready to deliver his opponents a knockout blow. Among others, he enlisted a number of foreigners, mostly Americans, under John A. Sutter, whose establishment at New Helvetia, or modern Sacramento, had, since its founding in 1839,

  become the principal rendezvous of the immigrants by the overland trails. Isaac Graham also joined Michael Torrena with a contingent of sharpshooters. Alvarado and Castro, who were among the leaders of the opposition, hastened south, gathering adherents as they went. Arrived before Los Angeles, they attacked the garrison and captured the city in a battle,

  January 20th, 1845, in which several men were killed or wounded. They made much of the fact that Michael Torrena's army consisted largely of foreigners, procuring enlistments to their own forces as a result of the patriotic ardor this aroused. Meanwhile, they too recruited a foreign company. On February 20 and 21, 1845, the Battle of Cahuenga Pass was fought,

  at Alamos, west of the pass, on the 20th, and at the Verdugo Ranch on the other side, on the 21st. The forces engaged were larger than usual. It is said that the Californians had no fewer than 400 men. They also had two cannon, as against Michael Torrena's three. On both sides, there were a number of foreigners, in great part Americans,

  but some of them were prominent among them in each camp, where it worked pointing out how this was none of their quarrel. So the foreigners in each army did little, if anything, but watch the fight. The engagement on the 20th was mainly an artillery duel, with nobody taking any chances of getting hit.

  It is said that one horse on the patriot side had his head shot off, and perhaps another was killed, while Michael Torrena's casualties were limited to the wounding of one mule. On the 21st, neither man nor animal fell. And then Michael Torrena capitulated.

  Indeed, his cause was hopeless, now that the foreign riflemen would not aid him. He agreed to leave Alta California, taking his Cholos with him, and late in March he did so. With his departure, the last real vestige of Mexican rule was gone, though a shadowy allegiance was retained some few months longer.

  A divided local authority was now restored with Pio Pico as civil governor and José Castro military commandant. Immediately, the lack of harmony between North and South revived. Pico, earliest in a long line of Los Angeles boosters, removed the capital to the southern metropolis,

  while Castro and the provincial treasurer and Customs officials remained at Monterey. Even in his own section, Pico was beset with troubles, including a plotted uprising by that stormy petrol of Alta Californian politics, José Antonio Carrillo. The plot was discovered, and Carrillo was forced to add yet another exile

  to several in his career which had gone before. Differences of opinion between Pico and Castro were early in evidence. The most serious question was that of a division of the provincial revenues. Debts were pressing and salaries were either unpaid or being scaled down, a situation which had become chronic, but needs were greater than ever.

  Pico was in a position to command legislation favoring the civil branch as opposed to the military, but Castro and his friends were in control of the funds. Affairs were shaping themselves for a fresh civil war when there came a burst from the blue that gave a new turn to the situation.

  The news concerned a long predicted uprising of foreigners under the leadership in the present instance of John C. Fremont, an officer of the United States Army. Events now moved rapidly. In the celebrated Bear Flag Revolt of 1846,

  Fremont and his companions announced the establishment of an independent California republic. Meanwhile, war between the United States and Mexico had broken out in the spring of that same year, and the campaign for an American-controlled independent California

  was transformed into a conquest by the United States. The story belongs to the historian of American California. Here, it need only be said that the Spanish Californians struck a gallant blow before they succumbed to the inevitable. Acknowledging the rule of Jose Maria Flores,

  they prepared to resist the invasion of General Stephen W. Kearney, who late in 1846 entered the province by way of the Anza Route, turning off towards San Diego. On December 6th came the decisive clash between the respective heirs of Spanish and Anglo-Saxon civilization

  at San Pasqual, a few miles below Escondido. Kearney remained in possession of the field, but only after suffering a loss of 21 killed and 16 wounded. The honors of the day may well be accorded to the Spanish Californians, who, skillfully commanded by Andrés Pico,

  got off without loss of life, though a few of them were wounded. There were indeed several more skirmishes between the opposing forces, but the local authorities soon realized that resistance was hopeless. On January 13, 1847, a peace was agreed upon in Alta California, and with the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo

  between the United States and Mexico on February 2, 1848, the passing of the old Spanish province under the American flag was formally acknowledged. What seemed almost like destiny, with not a little assistance from the goddess of chance,

  had now been fulfilled. The work of Galvez and Bucarelli, worthily carried on by the Spanish Californians, had reached its logical conclusion.