What I Saw in California
by Edwin Bryant · English · Gutenberg #13002 · 443,448 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: What I Saw in California
Author: Edwin Bryant
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Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT I SAW IN CALIFORNIA ***
WHAT I SAW IN CALIFORNIA
A Description of Its Soil, Climate, Productions, and Gold Mines;
with the Best Routes and Latest Information for Intending Emigrants.
By
EDWIN BRYANT
Late Alcade of San Francisco.
To which is annexed, an Appendix
Containing official documents and letters authenticating the accounts
of the quantities of gold found, with its actual value ascertained by
chemical assay.
Also late communications containing accounts of the highest interest
and importance from the gold districts.
With a Map.
1849
"All which I saw, and part of which I was."
--_Dryden_.
CHAPTER I.
Geographical sketch of California
Its political and social institutions
Colorado River
Valley and river of San Joaquin
Former government
Presidios
Missions
Ports and commerce.
For the general information of the reader, it will be proper to give a
brief geographical sketch of California, and some account of its
political and social institutions, as they have heretofore existed.
The district of country known geographically as Upper California is
bounded on the north by Oregon, the forty-second degree of north
latitude being the boundary line between the two territories; on the
east by the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra de los Mimbres, a
continuation of the same range; on the south by Sonora and Old or Lower
California, and on the west by the Pacific Ocean. Its extent from north
to south is about 700 miles, and from east to west from 600 to 800
miles, with an area of about 400,000 square miles. A small portion only
of this extensive territory is fertile or inhabitable by civilized man,
and this portion consists chiefly in the strip of country along the
Pacific Ocean, about 700 miles in length, and from 100 to 150 in
breadth, bounded on the east by the Sierra Nevada, and on the west by
the Pacific. In speaking of Upper California this strip of country is
what is generally referred to.
The largest river of Upper California is the Colorado or Red, which has
a course of about 1000 miles, and empties into the Gulf of California
in latitude about 32 degrees north. But little is known of the region
through which this stream flows. The report of trappers, however, is
that the river is _canoned_ between high mountains and precipices a
large portion of its course, and that its banks and the country
generally through which it flows are arid, sandy, and barren. Green and
Grand Rivers are its principal upper tributaries, both of which rise in
the Rocky Mountains, and within the territories of the United States.
The Gila is its lowest and largest branch, emptying into the Colorado,
just above its mouth. Sevier and Virgin Rivers are also tributaries of
the Colorado. Mary's River rises near latitude 42 degrees north, and
has a course of about 400 miles, when its waters sink in the sands of
the desert. This river is not laid down on any map which I have seen.
The Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers have each a course of from 300 to
400 miles, the first flowing from the north and the last from the
south, and both emptying into the Bay of St. Francisco at the same
point. They water the large and fertile valley lying between the Sierra
Nevada and the coast range of mountains. I subjoin a description of the
valley and river San Joaquin, from the pen of a gentleman (Dr. Marsh)
who has explored the river from its source to its mouth.
"This noble valley is the first undoubtedly in California, and one of
the most magnificent in the world. It is about 500 miles long, with
an-average width of about fifty miles. It is bounded on the east by the
great Snowy Mountains, and on the west by the low range, which in many
places dwindles into insignificant hills, and has its northern terminus
at the Strait of Carquines, on the Bay of San Francisco, and its
southern near the Colorado River.
"The river of San Joaquin flows through the middle of the valley for
about half of its extent, and thence diverges towards the eastern
mountain, in which it has its source. About sixty miles further south
is the northern end of the Buena Vista Lake, which is about one hundred
miles long, and from ten to twenty wide. Still farther south, and near
the western side of the valley, is another and much smaller lake.
"The great lake receives about a dozen tributaries on its eastern side,
which all rise in the great range of the Snowy Mountains. Some of these
streams flow through broad and fertile valleys within the mountain's
range, and, from thence emerging, irrigate the plains of the great
valley for the distance of twenty or thirty miles. The largest of these
rivers is called by the Spanish inhabitants the river Reyes, and falls
into the lake near its northern end; it is a well-timbered stream, and
flows through a country of great fertility and beauty. The tributaries
of the San Joaquin are all on the east side.
"On ascending the stream we first meet with the Stanislaus, a clear
rapid mountain stream, some forty or fifty yards wide, with a
considerable depth of water in its lower portion. The Mormons have
commenced a settlement, called New Hope, and built some two or three
houses near the mouth.
"There are considerable bodies of fertile land along the river, and the
higher plains afford good pasturage.
"Ten miles higher up is the river of the Tawalomes; it is about the
size of the Stanislaus, which it greatly resembles, except that the
soil is somewhat better, and that it particularly abounds with salmon.
"Some thirty miles farther comes in the Merced, much the largest of the
tributaries of the San Joaquin. The lands along and between the
tributaries of the San Joaquin and the lake of Buena Vista form a fine
pastoral region, with a good proportion of arable land, and a very
inviting field for emigration. The whole of this region has been but
imperfectly explored; enough, however, is known to make it certain that
it is one of the most desirable regions on the continent.
"In the valleys of the rivers which come down from the great Snowy
Mountains are vast bodies of pine, and red-wood, or cedar timber, and
the streams afford water power to any desirable amount.
"The whole country east of the San Joaquin, and the water communication
which connects it with the lakes, is considered, by the best judges, to
be particularly adapted to the culture of the vine, which must
necessarily become one of the principal agricultural resources of
California."
The Salinas River empties into the Pacific, about twelve miles above
Monterey. Bear River empties into the Great Salt Lake. The other
streams of California are all small. In addition to the Great Salt Lake
and the Utah Lake there are numerous small lakes in the Sierra Nevada.
The San Joaquin is connected with Tule Lake, or Lake Buena Vista, a
sheet of water about eighty miles in length and fifteen in breadth. A
lake, not laid down in any map, and known as the _Laguna_ among the
Californians, is situated about sixty miles north of the Bay of San
Francisco. It is between forty and sixty miles in length. The valleys
in its vicinity are highly fertile, and romantically beautiful. In the
vicinity of this lake there is a mountain of pure sulphur. There are
also soda springs, and a great variety of other mineral waters, and
minerals.
The principal mountains west of the eastern boundary of California (the
Rocky Mountains) are the Bear River, Wahsatch, Utah, the Sierra Nevada,
and the Coast range. The Wahsatch Mountains form the eastern rim of the
"great interior basin." There are numerous ranges in this desert basin,
all of which run north and south, and are separated from each other by
spacious and barren valleys and plains. The Sierra Nevada range is of
greater elevation than the Rocky Mountains. The summits of the most
elevated peaks are covered with perpetual snow. This and the coast
range run nearly parallel with the shore of the Pacific. The first is
from 100 to 200 miles from the Pacific, and the last from forty to
sixty miles. The valley between them is the most fertile portion of
California.
Upper California was discovered in 1548, by Cabrillo, a Spanish
navigator. In 1578, the northern portion of it was visited by Sir
Francis Drake, who called it New Albion. It was first colonized by the
Spaniards, in 1768, and formed a province of Mexico until after the
revolution in that country. There have been numerous revolutions and
civil wars in California within the last twenty years; but up to the
conquest of the country by the United States in 1846, Mexican authority
has generally been exercised over it.
The following description of the political and social condition of
Upper California in 1822 is extracted and translated from a Spanish
writer of that date. I have thought that the extract would not be
uninteresting:--
"_Government_.--Upper California, on account of its small population,
not being able to become a state of the great Mexican republic, takes
the character of territory, the government of which is under the charge
of a commandant-general, who exercises the charge of a superior
political chief, whose attributes depend entirely upon the president of
the republic and the general congress. But, to amplify the legislation
of its centre, it has a deputation made up of seven vocals, the half of
these individuals being removed every two years. The superior political
chief presides at their sessions. The inhabitants of the territory are
divided amongst the presidios, missions, and towns.
"_Presidios_.--The necessity of protecting the apostolic predication
was the obligatory reason for forming the presidios, which were
established according to circumstances. That of San Diego was the
first; Santa Barbara, Monterey, and San Francisco were built
afterwards. The form of all of them is nearly the same, and this is a
square, containing about two hundred yards in each front, formed of a
weak wall made of mud-bricks. Its height may be four yards in the
interior of the square, and built on to the same wall. In its entire
circumference are a chapel, storehouses, and houses for the commandant,
officers, and troops, having at the entrance of the presidio quarters
for a _corps-de-garde_.
"These buildings in the presidios, at the first idea, appear to have
been sufficient, the only object having been for a defence against a
surprise from the gentiles, or wild Indians in the immediate vicinity.
But this cause having ceased, I believe they ought to be demolished, as
they are daily threatening a complete ruin, and, from the very limited
spaces of habitation, must be very incommodious to those who inhabit
them. As to the exterior of the presidios, several private individuals
have built some very decent houses, and, having evinced great emulation
in this branch of business, I have no doubt but in a short time we
shall see very considerable towns in California.
"At the distance of one, or at the most two miles from the presidio,
and near to the anchoring-ground, is a fort, which has a few pieces of
artillery of small calibre. The situation of most of them is very
advantageous for the defence of the port, though the form of the walls,
esplanades, and other imperfections which may be seen, make them very
insignificant.
"The battalion of each presidio is made up of eighty or more horse
soldiers, called _cuera_; besides these, it has a number of auxiliary
troops and a detachment of artillery. The commandant of each presidio
is the captain of its respective company, and besides the intervention,
military and political, he has charge of all things relating to the
marine department.
"_Missions_.--The missions contained in the territory are twenty-one.
They were built at different epochs: that of San Diego, being the
first, was built in 1769; its distance from the presidio of the same
name is two leagues. The rest were built successively, according to
circumstances and necessity. The last one was founded in the year 1822,
under the name of San Francisco Dolores, and is the most northern of
all.
"The edifices in some of those missions are more extensive than in
others, but in form they are all nearly equal. They are all fabricated
of mud-bricks, and the divisions are according to necessity. In all of
them may be found commodious habitations for the ministers, storehouses
to keep their goods in, proportional granaries, offices for
soap-makers, weavers, blacksmiths, and large parterres, and horse and
cattle pens, independent apartments for Indian youths of each sex, and
all such offices as were necessary at the time of its institution.
Contiguous to and communicating with the former is a church, forming a
part of the edifices of each mission; they are all very proportionable,
and are adorned with profusion.
"The Indians reside about two hundred yards distant from the
above-mentioned edifice. This place is called the rancheria. Most of
the missions are made up of very reduced quarters, built with
mud-bricks, forming streets, while in others the Indians have been
allowed to follow their primitive customs; their dwellings being a sort
of huts, in a conical shape, which at the most do not exceed four yards
in diameter, and the top of the cone may be elevated three yards. They
are built of rough sticks, covered with bulrushes or grass, in such a
manner as to completely protect the inhabitants from all the
inclemencies of the weather. In my opinion, these rancherias are the
most adequate to the natural uncleanliness of the Indians, as the
families often renew them, burning the old ones, and immediately
building others with the greatest facility. Opposite the rancherias,
and near to the mission, is to be found a small garrison, with
proportionate rooms, for a corporal and five soldiers with their
families. This small garrison is quite sufficient to prevent any
attempt of the Indians from taking effect, there having been some
examples made, which causes the Indians to respect this small force.
One of these pickets in a mission has a double object; besides keeping
the Indians in subjection, they run post with a monthly correspondence,
or with any extraordinaries that may be necessary for government.
"All the missions in this California are under the charge of religious
men of the order of San Francisco. At the present time their number is
twenty-seven, most of them of an advanced age. Each mission has one of
these fathers for its administrator, and he holds absolute authority.
The tilling of the ground, the gathering of the harvest, the
slaughtering of cattle, the weaving, and everything that concerns the
mission, is under the direction of the fathers, without any other
person interfering in any way whatever, so that, if any one mission has
the good fortune to be superintended by an industrious and discreet
padre, the Indians disfrute in abundance all the real necessaries of
life; at the same time the nakedness and misery of any one mission are
a palpable proof of the inactivity of its director. The missions extend
their possessions from one extremity of the territory to the other, and
have made the limits of one mission from those of another. Though they
do not require all this land for their agriculture and the maintenance
of their stock, they have appropriated the whole; always strongly
opposing any individual who may wish to settle himself or his family on
any piece of land between them. But it is to be hoped that the new
system of illustration, and the necessity of augmenting private
properly, and the people of reason, will cause the government to take
such adequate measures as will conciliate the interests of all. Amongst
all the missions there are from twenty-one to twenty-two thousand
Catholic Indians; but each mission has not an equal or a proportionate
part in its congregation. Some have three or four thousand, whilst
others have scarcely four hundred; and at this difference may be
computed the riches of the missions in proportion. Besides the number
of Indians already spoken of, each mission has a considerable number of
gentiles, who live chiefly on farms annexed to the missions. The number
of these is undetermined.
"The Indians are naturally filthy and careless, and their understanding
is very limited. In the small arts they are not deficient in ideas of
imitation but they never will be inventors. Their true character is
that of being revengeful and timid, consequently they are very much
addicted to treachery. They have no knowledge of benefits received, and
ingratitude is common amongst them. The education they receive in their
infancy is not the proper one to develope their reason, and, if it
were, I do not believe them capable of any good impression. All these
Indians, whether from the continual use of the sweat-house, or from
their filthiness, or the little ventilation in their habitations, are
weak and unvigorous; spasms and rheumatics, to which they are so much
subject, are the consequences of their customs. But what most injures
them, and prevents propagation, is the venereal disease, which most of
them have very strongly, clearly proving that their humours are
analogous to receiving the impressions of this contagion. From this
reason may be deduced the enormous differences between the births and
deaths, which, without doubt, is one-tenth per year in favour of the
latter; but the missionaries do all in their power to prevent this,
with respect to the catechumens situated near them.
"The general productions of the missions are, the breed of the larger
class of cattle, and sheep, horses, wheat, maize or Indian corn, beans,
peas, and other vegetables; though the productions of the missions
situated more to the southward are more extensive, these producing the
grape and olive in abundance. Of all these articles of production, the
most lucrative is the large cattle, their hides and tallow affording an
active commerce with foreign vessels on this coast. This being the only
means the inhabitants, missionaries, or private individuals have of
supplying their actual necessities, for this reason they give this
branch all the impulse they possibly can, and on it generally place all
their attention.
"It is now six years since they began to gather in hides and tallow for
commerce. Formerly they merely took care of as many or as much as they
required for their own private use, and the rest was thrown away as
useless; but at this time the actual number of hides sold annually on
board of foreign vessels amounts to thirty or forty thousand, and about
the same amount of arrobas (twenty-five pounds) of tallow; and, in
pursuing their present method, there is no doubt but in three or four
years the amount of the exportation of each of these articles will be
doubled. Flax, linen, wine, olive-oil, grain, and other agricultural
productions, would be very extensive if there were stimulants to excite
industry; but, this not being the case, there is just grain enough sown
and reaped for the consumption of the inhabitants in the territory.
"The towns contained in this district are three; the most populous
being that of Angeles, which has about twelve hundred souls; that of
St. Joseph's of Guadaloupe may contain six hundred, and the village of
Branciforte two hundred; they are all formed imperfectly and without
order, each person having built his own house on the spot he thought
most convenient for himself. The first of these pueblos is governed by
its corresponding body of magistrates, composed of an alcalde or judge,
four regidores or municipal officers, a syndic, and secretary; the
second, of an alcalde, two regidores, a syndic, and secretary; and the
third, on account of the smallness of its population, is subject to the
commandancia of Monterey.
"The inhabitants of the towns are white, and, to distinguish them from
the Indians, are vulgarly called _people of reason_. The number of
these contained in the territory may be nearly five thousand. These
families are divided amongst the pueblos and presidios. They are nearly
all the descendants of a small number of individuals who came from the
Mexican country, some as settlers, others in the service of the army,
and accompanied by their wives. In the limited space of little more
than fifty years the present generation has been formed.
"The whites are in general robust, healthy, and well made. Some of them
are occupied in breeding and raising cattle, and cultivating small
quantities of wheat and beans; but for want of sufficient land, for
which they cannot obtain a rightful ownership, their labours are very
limited. Others dedicate themselves to the service of arms. All the
presidial companies are composed of the natives of the country, but the
most of them are entirely indolent, it being very rare for any
individual to strive to augment his fortune. Dancing, horse-riding, and
gambling occupy all their time. The arts are entirely unknown, and I am
doubtful if there is one individual who exercises any trade; very few
who understand the first rudiments of letters, and the other sciences
are unknown amongst them.
"The fecundity of the _people of reason_ is extreme. It is very rare to
find a married couple with less than five or six children, while there
are hundreds who have from twelve to fifteen. Very few of them die in
their youth, and in reaching the age of puberty are sure to see their
grand-children. The age of eighty and one hundred has always been
common in this climate; most infirmities are unknown here, and the
freshness and robustness of the people show the beneficial influence of
the climate; the women in particular have always the roses stamped on
their cheeks. This beautiful species is without doubt the most active
and laborious, all their vigilance in duties of the house, the
cleanliness of their children, and attention to their husbands,
dedicating all their leisure moments to some kind of occupation that
may be useful towards their maintenance. Their clothing is always clean
and decent, nakedness being entirely unknown in either sex.
"_Ports and Commerce_.--There are four ports, principal bays, in this
territory, which take the names of the corresponding presidios. The
best guarded is that of San Diego. That of San Francisco has many
advantages. Santa Barbara is but middling in the best part of the
season; at other times always bad. Besides the above-mentioned places,
vessels sometimes anchor at Santa Cruz, San Luis Obispo, El Refugio,
San Pedro, and San Juan, that they may obtain the productions of the
missions nearest these last-mentioned places; but from an order sent by
the minister of war, and circulated by the commandante-general, we are
given to understand that no foreign vessel is permitted to anchor at
any of these places, Monterey only excepted, notwithstanding the
commandante-general has allowed the first three principal ports to
remain open provisionally. Were it not so, there would undoubtedly be
an end to all commerce with California, as I will quickly show.
"The only motive that induces foreign vessels to visit this coast is
for the hides and tallow which they barter for in the territory. It is
well known, that at any of these parts there is no possibility of
realizing any money, for here it does not circulate. The goods imported
by foreign vessels are intended to facilitate the purchase of the
aforesaid articles, well knowing that the missions have no interest in
money, but rather such goods as are necessary for the Indians, so that
several persons who have brought goods to sell for nothing but money
have not been able to sell them. It will appear very extraordinary that
money should not be appreciated in a country where its value is so well
known; but the reason may be easily perceived by attending to the
circumstances of the territory.
"The quantity of hides gathered yearly is about thirty or forty
thousand; and the arrobas of tallow, with very little difference, will
be about the same. Averaging the price of each article at two dollars,
we shall see that the intrinsic value in annual circulation in
California is 140,000 dollars. This sum, divided between twenty-one
missions, will give each one 6666 dollars. Supposing the only
production of the country converted into money, with what would the
Indians be clothed, and by what means would they be able to cover a
thousand other necessaries? Money is useful in amplifying speculations;
but in California, as yet, there are no speculations, and it
productions are barely sufficient for the absolute necessary
consumption. The same comparison may be made with respect to private
individuals, who are able to gather a few hides and a few arrobas of
tallow, these being in small quantities."
CHAPTER II.
Leave New Helvetia for San Francisco
Cosçumne River
Mickélemes River
Ford of the San Joaquin
Extensive plain
Tule marshes
Large droves of wild horses and elk
Arrive at Dr. Marsh's
Vineyard
Californian grape
Californian wine
Aguardiénte
Mormon settlements on the San Joaquin
Californian beef
Cattle
Grasses of California
Horses
Breakfast
Leave Dr. Marsh's
Arrive at Mr. Livermore's
Comforts of his dwelling
Large herds of cattle
Sheep
Swine
Californian senora
Slaughtering of a bullock
Fossil oyster-shells
Skeleton of a whale on a high mountain
Arrive at mission of San José
Ruinous and desolate appearance of the mission
Pedlars
Landlady
Filth
Gardens of the mission
Fruit orchards
Empty warehouses and workshops
Foul lodgings.
_September 13th_.--We commenced to-day our journey from New Helvetia to
San Francisco. Our party consisted, including myself, of Colonel
Russell, Dr. McKee of Monterey, Mr. Pickett, a traveller in the
country, recently from Oregon, and an Indian servant, who had been
furnished us by Captain Sutter. Starting about 3 o'clock P.M., we
travelled in a south course over a flat plain until sunset, and
encamped near a small lake on the rancho of Mr. Murphy, near the
Cosçumne River, a tributary of the Sacramento, which heads near the
foot of the Sierra Nevada. The stream is small, but the bottom-lands
are extensive and rich. Mr. Murphy has been settled in California about
two years, and, with his wife and several children, has resided at this
place sixteen months, during which time he has erected a comfortable
dwelling-house, and other necessary buildings and conveniences. His
wheat crop was abundant this year; and he presented us with as much
milk and fresh butter as we desired. The grass on the upland plain over
which we have travelled is brown and crisp from the annual drought. In
the low bottom it is still green. Distance 18 miles.
_September 14_.--We crossed the Cosçumne River about a mile from our
camp, and travelled over a level plain covered with luxuriant grass,
and timbered with the evergreen oak, until three o'clock, when we
crossed the Mickélemes River, another tributary of the Sacramento, and
encamped on its southern bank in a beautiful grove of live oaks. The
Mickélemes, where we crossed it, is considerably larger than the
Cosçumnes. The soil of the bottom appears to be very rich, and produces
the finest qualities of grasses. The grass on the upland is also
abundant, but at this time it is brown and dead. We passed through
large tracts of wild oats during the day; the stalks are generally from
three to five feet in length.
Our Indian servant, or vaquero, feigned sickness this morning, and we
discharged him. As soon as he obtained his discharge, he was entirely
relieved from the excruciating agonies under which he had affected to
be suffering for several hours. Eating his breakfast, and mounting his
horse, he galloped off in the direction of the fort. We overtook this
afternoon an English sailor, named Jack, who was travelling towards
Monterey; and we employed him as cook and hostler for the remainder of
the journey.
A variety of autumnal flowers, generally of a brilliant yellow, are in
bloom along the beautiful and romantic bunks of the rivulet. Distance
25 miles.
_September 15_.--Our horses were frightened last night by bears, and
this morning, with the exception of those which were picketed, had
strayed so far that we did not recover them until ten o'clock. Our
route has continued over a flat plain, generally covered with luxuriant
grass, wild oats, and a variety of sparkling flowers. The soil is
composed of a rich argillaceous loam. Large tracts of the land are
evidently subject to annual inundations. About noon we reached a small
lake surrounded by _tule_. There being no trail for our guidance, we
experienced some difficulty in shaping our course so as to strike the
San Joaquin River at the usual fording place. Our man Jack, by some
neglect or mistake of his own, lost sight of us, and we were compelled
to proceed without him. This afternoon we saw several large droves of
antelope and deer. Game of all kinds appears to be very abundant in
this rich valley. Passing through large tracts of _tule_, we reached
the San Joaquin River at dark, and encamped on the eastern bank. Here
we immediately made large fires, and discharged pistols as signals to
our man Jack, but he did not come into camp. Distance 35 miles.
_September 16_.--Jack came into camp while we were breakfasting,
leading his tired horse. He had bivouacked on the plain, and, fearful
that his horse would break loose if he tied him, he held the animal by
the bridle all night.
The ford of the San Joaquin is about forty or fifty miles from its
mouth. At this season the water is at its lowest stage. The stream at
the ford is probably one hundred yards in breadth, and our animals
crossed it without much difficulty, the water reaching about midway of
their bodies. Oak and small willows are the principal growth of wood
skirting the river. Soon after we crossed the San Joaquin this morning
we met two men, couriers, bearing despatches from Commodore Stockton,
the governor and commander-in-chief in California, to Sutter's Fort.
Entering upon the broad plain, we passed, in about three miles, a small
lake, the water of which was so much impregnated with alkali as to be
undrinkable. The grass is brown and crisp, but the seed upon it is
evidence that it had fully matured before the drought affected it. The
plain is furrowed with numerous deep trails, made by the droves of wild
horses, elk, deer, and antelope, which roam over and graze upon it. The
hunting sportsman can here enjoy his favourite pleasure to its fullest
extent.
Having determined to deviate from our direct course, in order to visit
the rancho of Dr. Marsh, we parted from Messrs. McKee and Pickett about
noon. We passed during the afternoon several _tule_ marshes, with which
the plain of the San Joaquin is dotted. At a distance, the tule of
these marshes presents the appearance of immense fields of ripened
corn. The marshes are now nearly dry, and to shorten our journey we
crossed several of them without difficulty. A month earlier, this would
not have been practicable. I have but little doubt that these marshes
would make fine rice plantations, and perhaps, if properly drained,
they might produce the sugar-cane.
While pursuing our journey we frequently saw large droves of wild
horses and elk grazing quietly upon the plain. No spectacle of moving
life can present a more animated and beautiful appearance than a herd
of wild horses. They were divided into droves of some one or two
hundred. When they noticed us, attracted by curiosity to discover what
we were, they would start and run almost with the fleetness of the wind
in the direction towards us. But, arriving within a distance of two
hundred yards, they would suddenly halt, and after bowing their necks
into graceful curves, and looking steadily at us a few moments, with
loud snortings they would wheel about and bound away with the same
lightning speed. These evolutions they would repeat several times,
until, having satisfied their curiosity, they would bid us a final
adieu, and disappear behind the undulations of the plain.
The herds of elk were much more numerous. Some of them numbered at
least two thousand, and with their immense antlers presented, when
running, a very singular and picturesque appearance. We approached some
of these herds within fifty yards before they took the alarm. Beef in
California is so abundant, and of so fine a quality, that game is but
little hunted, and not much prized, hence the elk, deer, and even
antelope are comparatively very tame, and rarely run from the
traveller, unless he rides very near them. Some of these elk are as
large as a medium-sized Mexican mule.
We arrived at the rancho of Dr. Marsh about 5 o'clock P.M., greatly
fatigued with the day's ride. The residence of Dr. M. is romantically
situated, near the foot of one of the most elevated mountains in the
range separating the valley of the San Joaquin from the plain
surrounding the Bay of San Francisco. It is called "Mount Diablo," and
may be seen in clear weather a great distance. The dwelling of Dr. M.
is a small one-story house, rudely constructed of adobes, and divided
into two or three apartments. The flooring is of earth, like the walls.
A table or two, and some benches and a bed, are all the furniture it
contains. Such are the privations to which those who settle in new
countries must submit. Dr. M. is a native of New England, a graduate of
Harvard University, and a gentleman of fine natural abilities and
extensive scientific and literary acquirements. He emigrated to
California some seven or eight years since, after having travelled
through most of the Mexican States. He speaks the Spanish language
fluently and correctly, and his accurate knowledge of Mexican
institutions, laws, and customs was fully displayed in his conversation
in regard to them. He obtained the grant of land upon which he now
resides, some ten or twelve miles square, four or fire years ago; and
although he has been constantly harassed by the wild Indians, who have
several times stolen all his horses, and sometimes numbers of his
cattle, he has succeeded in permanently establishing himself. The
present number of cattle on his rancho is about two thousand, and the
increase of the present year he estimates at five hundred.
I noticed near the house a vegetable garden, with the usual variety of
vegetables. In another inclosure was the commencement of an extensive
vineyard, the fruit of which (now ripe) exceeds in delicacy of flavour
any grapes which I have ever tasted. This grape is not indigenous, but
was introduced by _the padres_, when they first established themselves
in the country. The soil and climate of California have probably
improved it. Many of the clusters are eight and ten inches in length,
and weigh several pounds. The fruit is of medium size, and in colour a
dark purple. The rind is very thin, and when broken the pulp dissolves
in the mouth immediately. Although Dr. M. has just commenced his
vineyard, he has made several casks of wine this year, which is now in
a stale of fermentation. I tasted here, for the first time,
_aguardiénte_, or brandy distilled from the Californian grape. Its
flavour is not unpleasant, and age, I do not doubt, would render it
equal to the brandies of France. Large quantities of wine and
_aguardiénte_ are made from the extensive vineyards farther south. Dr.
M. informed me that his lands had produced a hundredfold of wheat
without irrigation. This yield seems almost incredible; but, if we can
believe the statements of men of unimpeached veracity, there have been
numerous instances of reproduction of wheat in California equalling and
even exceeding this.
Some time in July, a vessel arrived at San Francisco from New York,
which had been chartered and freighted principally by a party of Mormon
emigrants, numbering between two and three hundred, women and children
included. These Mormons are about making a settlement for agricultural
purposes on the San Joaquin River, above the rancho of Dr. Marsh. Two
of the women and one of the men are now here, waiting for the return of
the main party, which has gone up the river to explore and select a
suitable site for the settlement. The women are young, neatly dressed,
and one of them may be called good-looking. Captain Gant, formerly of
the U.S. Army, in very bad health, is also residing here. He has
crossed the Rocky Mountains eight times, and, in various trapping
excursions, has explored nearly every river between the settlements of
the United States and the Pacific Ocean.
The house of Dr. Marsh being fully occupied, we made our beds in a
shed, a short distance from it. Suspended from one of the poles forming
the frame of this shed was a portion of the carcass of a recently
slaughtered beef. The meat was very fat, the muscular portions of it
presenting that marbled appearance, produced by a mixture of the fat
and lean, so agreeable to the sight and palate of the epicure. The
horned cattle of California, which I have thus far seen, are the
largest and the handsomest in shape which I ever saw. There is
certainly no breed in the United States equalling them in size. They,
as well as the horses, subsist entirely on the indigenous grasses, at
all seasons of the year; and such are the nutritious qualities of the
herbage, that the former are always in condition for slaughtering, and
the latter have as much flesh upon them as is desirable, unless (which
is often the case) they are kept up at hard work and denied the
privilege of eating, or are broken down by hard riding. The varieties
of grass are very numerous, and nearly all of them are heavily seeded
when ripe, and are equal, if not superior, as food for animals, to corn
and oats. The horses are not as large as the breeds of the United
States, but in point of symmetrical proportions and in capacity for
endurance they are fully equal to our best breeds. The distance we have
travelled to-day I estimate at thirty-five miles.
_September 17_.--The temperature of the mornings is most agreeable, and
every other phenomenon accompanying it is correspondingly delightful to
the senses. Our breakfast consisted of warm bread, made of unbolted
flour, stewed beef, seasoned with _chile colorado_, a species of red
pepper, and _frijoles_, a dark-coloured bean, with coffee. After
breakfast I walked with Dr. Marsh to the summit of a conical hill,
about a mile distant from his house, from which the view of the plain
on the north, south, and east, and the more broken and mountainous
country on the west, is very extensive and picturesque. The hills and
the plain are ornamented with the evergreen oak, sometimes in clumps or
groves, at others standing solitary. On the summits, and in the gorges
of the mountains, the cedar, pine, and fir display their tall
symmetrical shapes; and the San Joaquin, at a distance of about ten
miles, is belted by a dense forest of oak, sycamore, and smaller timber
and shrubbery. The herds of cattle are scattered over the plain,--some
of them grazing upon the brown but nutritious grass; others sheltering
themselves from the sun under the wide-spreading branches of the oaks.
The _tout ensemble_ of the landscape is charming.
Leaving Dr. Marsh's about three o'clock P.M., we travelled fifteen
miles, over a rolling and well-watered country, covered generally with
wild oats, and arrived at the residence of Mr. Robert Livermore just
before dark. We were most kindly and hospitably received, and
entertained by Mr. L. and his interesting family. After our mules and
baggage had been cared for, we were introduced to the principal room in
the house, which consisted of a number of small adobe buildings,
erected apparently at different times, and connected together. Here we
found chairs, and, for the first time in California, saw a side-board
set out with glass tumblers and chinaware. A decanter of _aguardiénte_,
a bowl of loaf sugar, and a pitcher of cold water from the spring, were
set before us, and, being duly honoured, had a most reviving influence
upon our spirits as well as our corporeal energies. Suspended from the
walls of the room were numerous coarse engravings, highly coloured with
green, blue, and crimson paints, representing the Virgin Mary, and many
of the saints. These engravings are held in great veneration by the
devout Catholics of this country. In the corners of the room were two
comfortable-looking beds, with clean white sheets and pillow-cases, a
sight with which my eyes have not been greeted for many months.
The table was soon set out, and covered with a linen cloth of snowy
whiteness, upon which were placed dishes of stewed beef, seasoned with
_chile Colorado, frijoles_, and a plentiful supply of _tortillas_, with
an excellent cup of tea, to the merits of which we did ample justice.
Never were men blessed with better appetites than we are at the present
time.
Mr. Livermore has been a resident of California nearly thirty years,
and, having married into one of the wealthy families of the country, is
the proprietor of some of the best lands for tillage and grazing. An
_arroyo_, or small rivulet fed by springs, runs through his rancho, in
such a course that, if expedient, he could, without much expense,
irrigate one or two thousand acres. Irrigation in this part of
California, however, seems to be entirely unnecessary for the
production of wheat or any of the small grains. To produce maize,
potatoes, and garden vegetables, irrigation is indispensable. Mr.
Livermore has on his rancho about 3500 head of cattle. His horses,
during the late disturbances, have nearly all been driven off or stolen
by the Indians. I saw in his corral a flock of sheep numbering several
hundred. They are of good size, and the mutton is said to be of an
excellent quality, but the wool is coarse. It is, however, well adapted
to the only manufacture of wool that is carried on in the
country,--coarse blankets and _serápes_. But little attention is paid
to hogs here, although the breeds are as fine as I have ever seen
elsewhere. Beef being so abundant, and of a quality so superior, pork
is not prized by the native Californians.
The Senora L. is the first Hispano-American lady I have seen since
arriving in the country. She was dressed in a white cambric robe,
loosely banded round the waist, and without ornament of any kind,
except several rings on her small delicate fingers. Her complexion is
that of a dark brunette, but lighter and more clear than the skin of
most Californian women. The dark lustrous eye, the long black and
glossy hair, the natural ease, grace, and vivacity of manners and
conversation, characteristic of Spanish ladies, were fully displayed by
her from the moment of our introduction. The children, especially two
or three little _senoritas_, were very beautiful, and manifested a
remarkable degree of sprightliness and intelligence. One of them
presented me with a small basket wrought from a species of tough grass,
and ornamented with the plumage of birds of a variety of brilliant
colours. It was a beautiful specimen of Indian ingenuity.
Retiring to bed about ten o'clock, I enjoyed, the first time for four
months, the luxury of clean sheets, with a mattress and a soft pillow.
My enjoyment, however, was not unmixed with regret, for I noticed that
several members of the family, to accommodate us with lodgings in the
house, slept in the piazza outside. To have objected to sleeping in the
house, however, would have been considered discourteous and offensive.
_September 18_.--Early this morning a bullock was brought up and
slaughtered in front of the house. The process of slaughtering a beef
is as follows: a _vaquero_, mounted on a trained horse, and provided
with a lasso, proceeds to the place where the herd is grazing.
Selecting an animal, he soon secures it by throwing the noose of the
lasso over the horns, and fastening the other end around the pommel of
the saddle. During the first struggles of the animal for liberty, which
usually are very violent, the vaquero sits firmly in his seat, and
keeps his horse in such a position that the fury and strength of the
beast are wasted without producing any other result than his own
exhaustion. The animal, soon ascertaining that he cannot release
himself from the rope, submits to be pulled along to the place of
execution. Arriving here, the vaquero winds the lasso round the legs of
the doomed beast, and throws him to the ground, where he lies perfectly
helpless and motionless. Dismounting from his horse, he then takes from
his leggin the butcher-knife that he always carries with him, and
sticks the animal in the throat. He soon bleeds to death, when, in an
incredibly short space of time for such a performance, the carcass is
flayed and quartered, and the meat is either roasting before the fire
or simmering in the stew-pan. The _lassoing_ and slaughter of a bullock
is one of the most exciting sports of the Californians; and the daring
horsemanship and dexterous use of the lariat usually displayed on these
occasions are worthy of admiration. I could not but notice the
Golgotha-like aspect of the grounds surrounding the house. The bones of
cattle were thickly strewn in all directions, showing a terrible
slaughter of the four-footed tribe and a prodigious consumption of
flesh.
A _carretada_ of fossil oyster--shells was shown to me by Mr.
Livermore, which had been hauled for the purpose of being manufactured
into lime. Some of these shells were eight inches in length, and of
corresponding breadth and thickness. They were dug from a hill two or
three miles distant, which is composed almost entirely of this fossil.
Several bones belonging to the skeleton of a whale, discovered by Mr.
L. on the summit of one of the highest elevations in the vicinity of
his residence, were shown to me. The skeleton when discovered was
nearly perfect and entirely exposed, and its elevation above the level
of the sea between one and two thousand feet. How the huge aquatic
monster, of which this skeleton is the remains, managed to make his dry
bed on the summit of an elevated mountain, more experienced geologists
than myself will hereafter determine. I have an opinion on the subject,
however; but it is so contrary in some respects to the received
geological theories, that I will not now hazard it.
Leaving Mr. Livermore's about nine o'clock A.M., we travelled three or
four miles over a level plain, upon which immense herds of cattle were
grazing. When we approached, they fled from us with as much alarm as
herds of deer and elk. From this plain we entered a hilly country,
covered to the summits of the elevations with wild oats and tufts or
hunches of a species of grass, which remains green through the whole
season. Cattle were scattered through these hills, and more sumptuous
grazing they could not desire. Small streams of water, fed by springs,
flow through the hollows and ravines, which, as well as the hill-sides,
are timbered with the evergreen oak and a variety of smaller trees.
About two o'clock, P.M., we crossed an _arroyo_ which runs through a
narrow gorge of the hills, and struck an artificial wagon-road,
excavated and embanked so as to afford a passage for wheeled vehicles
along the steep hill-side. A little farther on we crossed a very rudely
constructed bridge. These are the first signs of road-making I have
seen in the country. Emerging from the hills, the southern arm of the
Bay of San Francisco came in view, separated from us by a broad and
fertile plain, some ten or twelve miles in width, sloping gradually
down to the shore of the bay, and watered by several small creeks and
estuaries.
We soon entered through a narrow street the mission of San José, or St.
Joseph. Passing the squares of one-story adobe buildings once inhabited
by thousands of busy Indians, but now deserted, roofless, and crumbling
into ruins, we reached the plaza in front of the church, and the
massive two-story edifices occupied by the _padres_ during the
flourishing epoch of the establishment. These were in good repair; but
the doors and windows, with the exception of one, were closed, and
nothing of moving life was visible except a donkey or two, standing
near a fountain which gushed its waters into a capacious stone trough.
Dismounting from our mules, we entered the open door, and here we found
two Frenchmen dressed in sailor costume, with a quantity of coarse
shirts, pantaloons, stockings, and other small articles, together with
_aguardiénte_, which they designed retailing to such of the natives in
the vicinity as chose to become their customers. They were itinerant
merchants, or pedlars, and had opened their wares here for a day or two
only, or so long as they could find purchasers.
Having determined to remain here the residue of the day and the night,
we inquired of the Frenchmen if there was any family in the place that
could furnish us with food. They directed us to a house on the opposite
side of the plaza, to which we immediately repaired. The senora, a
dark-skinned and rather shrivelled and filthy specimen of the fair sex,
but with a black, sparkling, and intelligent eye, met us at the door of
the miserable hovel, and invited us in. In one corner of this wretched
and foul abode was a pile of raw hides, and in another a heap of wheat.
The only furniture it contained were two small benches, or stools, one
of which, being higher than the other, appeared to have been
constructed for a table. We informed the senora that we were
travellers, and wished refreshment and lodgings for the night. "_Esta
bueno, senores, esta bueno_," was her reply; and she immediately left
us, and, opening the door of the kitchen, commenced the preparation of
our dinner. The interior of the kitchen, of which I had a good view
through the door, was more revolting in its filthiness than the room in
which we were seated. In a short time, so industrious was our hostess,
our dinner, consisting of two plates of jerked beef, stewed, and
seasoned with _chile colorado_, a plate of _tortillas_, and a bowl of
coffee, was set out upon the most elevated stool. There were no knives,
forks, or spoons, on the table. Our amiable landlady apologized for
this deficiency of table-furniture, saying that she was "_muy pobre_"
(very poor), and possessed none of these table implements. "Fingers
were made before forks," and in our recent travels we had learned to
use them as substitutes, so that we found no difficulty in conveying
the meat from the plates to our mouths.
Belonging to the mission are two gardens, inclosed by high adobe walls.
After dinner we visited one of these. The area of the inclosure
contains fifteen or twenty acres of ground, the whole of which was
planted with fruit trees and grape-vines. There are about six hundred
pear trees, and a large number of apple and peach trees, all bearing
fruit in great abundance and in full perfection. The quality of the
pears is excellent, but the apples and peaches are indifferent. The
grapes have been gathered, as I suppose, for I saw none upon the vines,
which appeared healthy and vigorous. The gardens are irrigated with
very little trouble, from large springs which flow from the hills a
short distance above them. Numerous aqueducts, formerly conveying and
distributing water over an extensive tract of land surrounding the
mission, are still visible, but as the land is not now cultivated, they
at present contain no water.
The mission buildings cover fifty acres of ground, perhaps more, and
are all constructed of adobes with tile roofs. Those houses or barracks
which were occupied by the Indian families are built in compact
squares, one story in height. They are generally partitioned into two
rooms, one fronting on the street, the other upon a court or corral in
the rear. The main buildings of the mission are two stories in height,
with wide corridors in front and rear. The walls are massive, and, if
protected from the winter rains, will stand for ages. But if exposed to
the storms by the decay of the projecting roofs, or by leaks in the
main roof, they will soon crumble, or sink into shapeless heaps of mud.
I passed through extensive warehouses and immense rooms, once occupied
for the manufacture of woollen blankets and other articles, with the
rude machinery still standing in them, but unemployed. Filth and
desolation have taken the place of cleanliness and busy life. The
granary was very capacious, and its dimensions were an evidence of the
exuberant fertility of the soil, when properly cultivated under the
superintendence of the _padres_. The calaboose is a miserable dark room
of two apartments, one with a small loop-hole in the wall, the other a
dungeon without light or ventilation. The stocks, and several other
inventions for the punishment of offenders, are still standing in this
prison. I requested permission to examine the interior of the church,
but it was locked up, and no person in the mission was in possession of
the key. Its length I should suppose is from one hundred to one hundred
and twenty feet, and its breadth between thirty and forty, with small
exterior pretensions to architectural ornament or symmetry of
proportions.
Returning from our rambles about the mission, we found that our
landlady had been reinforced by an elderly woman, whom she introduced
as "_mi madre_," and two or three Indian _muchachas_, or girls, clad in
a costume not differing much from that of our mother Eve. The latter
were obese in their figures, and the mingled perspiration and filth
standing upon their skins were any thing but agreeable to the eye. The
two senoras, with these handmaids near them, were sitting in front of
the house, busily engaged in executing some needlework.
Supper being prepared and discussed, our landlady informed us that she
had a husband, who was absent, but would return in the course of the
night, and, if he found strange men in the house, he would be much
offended with her. She had therefore directed her _muchachas_ to sweep
out one of the deserted and half-ruined rooms on the opposite square,
to which we could remove our baggage, and in which we could lodge
during the night; and as soon as the necessary preparations were made,
we retired to our dismal apartment. The "compound of villanous smells"
which saluted our nostrils when we entered our dormitory for the night
augured unfavourably for repose. The place had evidently been the abode
of horses, cattle, pigs, and foul vermin of every description. But with
the aid of a dark-coloured tallow-candle, which gave just light enough
to display the murkiness and filth surrounding us, we spread our beds
in the cleanest places, and laid down to rest. Distance travelled, 18
miles.
CHAPTER III.
Armies of fleas
Leave the mission
Clover
Wild mustard
A carreta
Family travelling
Arrive at Pueblo de San José
Capt. Fisher
Description of the Pueblo
The embarcadero
Beautiful and fertile valley of the Pueblo
Absence of architectural taste in California
Town squirrels
Fruit garden
Grapes
Tropical fruits
Gaming rooms
Contrast between California and American gamesters
Leave San José
Beautiful avenue
Mission of Santa Clara
Rich but neglected lands
Effects of a bad government
A senora on the road-side
Kindness of Californian women
Fast riding
Cruel treatment of horses
Arrive at the mission of San Francisco
A poor but hospitable family
Arrive at the town of San Francisco
W.A. Leidesdorff, Esq., American vice-consul
First view of the bay of San Francisco
Muchachos and Muchachas
Capt. Montgomery
U.S. sloop-of-war, Portsmouth
Town of San Francisco; its situation, appearance, population
Commerce of California
Extortion of the government and traders.
_September 19_.--Several Californians came into the mission during the
night or early this morning; among them the husband of our hostess, who
was very kind and cordial in his greetings.
While our man Jack was saddling and packing the mules, they gathered
around us to the number of a dozen or more, and were desirous of
trading their horses for articles of clothing; articles which many of
them appeared to stand greatly in need of, but which we had not to part
from. Their pertinacity exceeded the bounds of civility, as I thought;
but I was not in a good humour, for the fleas, bugs, and other vermin,
which infested our miserable lodgings, had caused me a sleepless night,
by goring my body until the blood oozed from the skin in countless
places. These ruinous missions are prolific generators, and the
nurseries of vermin of all kinds, as the hapless traveller who tarries
in them a few hours will learn to his sorrow. When these bloodthirsty
assailants once make a lodgment in the clothing or bedding of the
unfortunate victim of their attacks, such are their courage and
perseverance, that they never capitulate. "Blood or death" is their
motto;--the war against them, to be successful, must be a war of
extermination.
Poor as our hostess was, she nevertheless was reluctant to receive any
compensation for her hospitality. We, however, insisted upon her
receiving a dollar from each of us (_dos pesos_), which she finally
accepted; and after shaking us cordially by the hand she bade us an
affectionate _adios_, and we proceeded on our journey.
From the Mission of San José to the Pueblo of San José, the distance is
fifteen miles, for the most part over a level and highly fertile plain,
producing a variety of indigenous grasses, among which I noticed
several species of clover and mustard, large tracts of which we rode
through, the stalks varying from six to ten feet in height. The plain
is watered by several _arroyos_, skirted with timber, generally the
evergreen oak.
We met this morning a Californian _carreta_, or travelling-cart,
freighted with women and children, bound on a pleasure excursion. The
_carreta_ is the rudest specimen of the wheeled vehicle I have seen.
The wheels are transverse sections of a log, and are usually about
2-1/2 feet in diameter, and varying in thickness from the centre to the
rim. These wheels are coupled together by an axletree, into which a
tongue is inserted. On the axletree and tongue rests a frame,
constructed of square pieces of timber, six or eight feet in length,
and four or five in breadth, into which are inserted a number of stakes
about, four feet in length. This frame-work being covered and floored
with raw hides, the carriage is complete. The _carreta_ which we met
was drawn by two yokes of oxen, driven by an Indian vaquero, mounted on
a horse. In the rear were two _caballeros_, riding fine spirited
horses, with gaudy trappings. They were dressed in steeple-crowned
glazed _sombreros, serapes_ of fiery colours, velvet (cotton)
_calzoneros_, white cambric _calzoncillos_, and leggins and shoes of
undressed leather. Their spurs were of immense size.
The party halted as soon as we met them, the men touching their heavy
_sombreros_, and uttering the usual salutation of the morning, "_Buenos
dios, senores_," and shaking hands with us very cordially. The same
salutation was repeated by all the senoras and senoritas in the
_carreta_. In dress and personal appearance the women of this party
were much inferior to the men. Their skins were dark, sallow, and
shrivelled; and their costume, a loose gown and _reboso_, were made of
very common materials. The children, however, were all handsome, with
sparkling eyes and ruddy complexions. Women and children were seated,
_à la Turque_, on the bottom of the _carreta_, there being no raised
seats in the vehicle.
We arrived at the Pueblo do San José about twelve o'clock. There being
no hotels in California, we were much at a loss where to apply for
refreshments and lodgings for the night. Soon, however, we were met by
Captain Fisher, a native of Massachusetts, but a resident of this
country for twenty years or more, who invited us to his house. We were
most civilly received by Senora F., who, although she did not speak
English, seemed to understand it very well. She is a native of the
southern Pacific coast of Mexico, and a lady of fine manners and
personal appearance. Her oldest daughter, about thirteen years of age,
is very beautiful. An excellent dinner was soon set out, with a variety
of the native wines of California and other liquors. We could not have
felt ourselves more happy and more at home, even at our own firesides
and in the midst of our own families.
The Pueblo de San José is a village containing some six or eight
hundred inhabitants. It is situated in what is called the "Pueblo
Valley," about fifteen miles south of the southern shore of the Bay of
San Francisco. Through a navigable creek, vessels of considerable
burden can approach the town within a distance of five or six miles.
The _embarcadero_, or landing, I think, is six miles from the Pueblo.
The fertile plain between this and the town, at certain seasons of the
year, is sometimes inundated. The "Pueblo Valley," which is eighty or
one hundred miles in length, varying from ten to twenty in breadth, is
well watered by the Rio Santa Clara and numerous _arroyos_, and is one
of the most fertile and picturesque plains in California. For pastoral
charms, fertility of soil, variety of productions, and delicious
voluptuousness of climate and scenery, it cannot be surpassed. This
valley, if properly cultivated, would alone produce breadstuffs enough
to supply millions of population. The buildings of the Pueblo, with few
exceptions, are constructed of adobes, and none of them have even the
smallest pretensions to architectural taste or beauty. The church,
which is situated near the centre of the town, exteriorly resembles a
huge Dutch barn. The streets are irregular, every man having erected
his house in a position most convenient to him. Aqueducts convey water
from the Santa Clara River to all parts of the town. In the main plaza
hundreds, perhaps thousands, of squirrels, whose abodes are under
ground, have their residences. They are of a brownish colour, and about
the size of our common gray squirrel. Emerging from their subterraneous
abodes, they skip and leap about over the plaza without the least
concern, no one molesting them.
The population of the place is composed chiefly of native Californian
land-proprietors. Their ranchos are in the valley, but their residences
and gardens are in the town. We visited this afternoon the garden of
Senor Don Antonio Sugnol. He received us with much politeness, and
conducted us through his garden. Apples, pears, peaches, figs, oranges,
and grapes, with other fruits which I do not now recollect, were
growing and ripening. The grape-vines were bowed to the ground with the
luxuriance arid weight of the yield; and more delicious fruit I never
tasted. From the garden we crossed over to a flouring-mill recently
erected by a son-in-law of Don Antonio, a Frenchman by birth. The mill
is a creditable enterprise to the proprietor, and he will coin money
from its operations.
The Pueblo de San José is one of the oldest settlements in Alta
California. Captain Fisher pointed out to me a house built of adobes,
which has been standing between 80 and 90 years, and no house in the
place appeared to be more substantial or in better repair. A garrison,
composed of marines from the United States' ships, and volunteers
enlisted from the American settlers in the country, is now stationed
here. The post is under the command of Purser Watmough, of the United
States sloop-of-war Portsmouth, commanded by Captain Montgomery. During
the evening I visited several public places (bar-rooms), where I saw
men and women engaged promiscuously at the game of _monte_. Gambling is
a universal vice in California. All classes and both sexes participate
in its excitements to some extent. The games, however, while I was
present, were conducted with great propriety and decorum so far as the
native Californians were concerned. The loud swearing and other
turbulent demonstrations generally proceeded from the unsuccessful
foreigners. I could not but observe the contrast between the two races
in this respect. The one bore their losses with stoical composure and
indifference; the other announced each unsuccessful bet with profane
imprecations and maledictions. Excitement prompted the hazards of the
former, avarice the latter.
_September 20_.--The morning was cloudy and cool; but the clouds broke
away about nine o'clock, and the sun shone from a vapourless sky, as
usual. We met, at the Pueblo, Mr. Grove Cook, a native of Gerrard
county, Ky., but for many years a resident of California. He is the
proprietor of a rancho in the vicinity. We determined to leave our
mules in charge of Mr. Cook's vaquero, and proceed to San Francisco on
hired horses. The distance from the Pueblo de San José to San Francisco
is called sixty miles. The time occupied in performing the journey, on
Californian horses at Californian speed, is generally six or seven
hours. Procuring horses for the journey, and leaving our baggage, with
the exception of a change of clothing, we left the Pueblo about eleven
o'clock A.M.
The mission of Santa Clara is situated about two and a half miles from
the town. A broad _alameda_, shaded by stately trees (elms and
willows), planted by the _padres_, extends nearly the entire distance,
forming a most beautiful drive or walk for equestrians or pedestrians.
The motive of the _padres_ in planting this avenue was to afford the
devout senoras and senoritas a shade from the sun, when walking from
the Pueblo to the church at the mission to attend mass. A few minutes
over the smooth level road, at the rapid speed of our fresh Californian
horses, brought us to the mission, where we halted to make our
observations. This mission is not so extensive in its buildings as that
of San José, but the houses are generally in better repair. They are
constructed of adobes; the church was open, and, entering the interior,
I found the walls hung with coarse paintings and engravings of the
saints, etc., etc. The chancel decorated with numerous images, and
symbolical ornaments used by the priests in their worship. Gold-paper,
and tinsel, in barbaric taste, are plastered without stint upon nearly
every object that meets the eye, so that, when on festive occasions the
church is lighted, it must present a very glittering appearance.
The rich lands surrounding the mission are entirely neglected. I did
not notice a foot of ground under cultivation, except the garden
inclosure, which contained a variety of fruits and plants of the
temperate and tropical climates. From want of care these are fast
decaying. Some excellent pears were furnished us by Mrs. Bennett, an
American lady, of Amazonian proportions, who, with her family of sons,
has taken up her residence in one of the buildings of the mission. The
picture of decay and ruin presented by this once flourishing
establishment, surrounded by a country so fertile and scenery so
enchanting, is a most melancholy spectacle to the passing traveller,
and speaks a language of loud condemnation against the government.
Proceeding on our journey, we travelled fifteen miles over a flat
plain, timbered with groves and parks of evergreen oaks, and covered
with a great variety of grasses, wild oats, and mustard. So rank is the
growth of mustard in many places, that it is with difficulty that a
horse can penetrate through it. Numerous birds flitted from tree to
tree, making the groves musical with their harmonious notes. The
black-tailed deer bounded frequently across our path, and the lurking
and stealthy _coyotes_ were continually in view. We halted at a small
cabin, with a _corral_ near it, in order to breathe our horses, and
refresh ourselves. Captain Fisher had kindly filled a small sack with
bread, cheese, roasted beef, and a small jug of excellent schiedam.
Entering the cabin, the interior of which was cleanly, we found a
solitary woman, young, neatly dressed, and displaying many personal
charms. With the characteristic ease and grace of a Spanish woman, she
gave the usual salutation for the hour of the day, "_Buenas tardes,
senores caballeros_;" to which we responded by a suitable salutation.
We requested of our hostess some water, which she furnished us
immediately, in an earthen bowl. Opening our sack of provisions, we
spread them upon the table, and invited the senora to partake of them
with us, which invitation she accepted without the slightest
hesitation, and with much good-nature, vivacity, and even thankfulness
for our politeness. There are no women in the world for whose manners
nature has done so much, and for whom art and education, in this
respect, have done so little, as these Hispano-American females on the
coast of the Pacific. In their deportment towards strangers they are
queens, when, in costume, they are peasants. None of them, according to
our tastes, can be called beautiful; but what they want in complexion
and regularity of feature is fully supplied by their kindliness, the
soul and sympathy which beam from their dark eyes, and their grace and
warmth of manners and expression.
While enjoying the _pic-nic_ with our agreeable hostess, a _caballada_
was driven into the _corral_ by two _vaqueros_, and two gentlemen soon
after came into the house. They were Messrs. Lightson and Murphy, from
the Pueblo, bound for San Francisco, and had stopped to change their
horses. We immediately made ready to accompany them, and were soon on
the road again, travelling at racehorse speed; these gentlemen having
furnished us with a change of horses, in order that we might be able to
keep up with them.
To account for the fast travelling in California on horseback, it is
necessary to explain the mode by which it is accomplished. A gentleman
who starts upon a journey of one hundred miles, and wishes to perform
the trip in a day, will take with him ten fresh horses and a _vaquero_.
The eight loose horses are placed under the charge of the _vaquero_,
and are driven in front, at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour,
according to the speed that is required for the journey. At the end of
twenty miles, the horses which have been rode are discharged and turned
into the _caballada_, and horses which have not been rode, but driven
along without weight, are saddled and mounted and rode at the same
speed, and so on to the end of the journey. If a horse gives out from
inability to proceed at this gait, he is left on the road. The owner's
brand is on him, and, if of any value, he can be recovered without
difficulty. But in California no one thinks of stopping on the road, on
account of the loss of a horse, or his inability to travel at the rate
of ten or twelve miles an hour. Horseflesh is cheap, and the animal
must go as long as he can, and when he cannot travel longer he is left,
and another horse is substituted.
Twenty-five miles, at a rapid gait over a level and fertile plain,
brought us to the rancho of Don Francisco Sanchez, where we halted to
change horses. Breathing our animals a short time, we resumed our
journey, and reached the mission of San Francisco Dolores, three miles
from the town of San Francisco, just after sunset. Between the mission
and the town the road is very sandy, and we determined to remain here
for the night, _corraling_ the loose animals, and picketing those we
rode. It was some time, however, before we could find a house to lodge
in. The foreign occupants of the mission buildings, to whom we applied
for accommodations for the night, gave us no satisfaction. After
several applications, we were at last accommodated by an old and very
poor Californian Spaniard, who inhabited a small house in one of the
ruinous squares, formerly occupied by the operative Indians. All that he
had (and it was but little) was at our disposal. A more miserable
supper I never sat down to; but the spirit of genuine hospitality in
which it was given imparted to the poor viands a flavour that rendered
the entertainment almost sumptuous--in my imagination. A cup of water
cheerfully given to the weary and thirsty traveller, by him who has no
more to part with, is worth a cask of wine grudgingly bestowed by the
stingy or the ostentatious churl. Notwithstanding we preferred sleeping
on our own blankets, these poor people would not suffer us to do it,
but spread their own pallets on the earth floor of their miserable hut,
and insisted so strongly upon our occupying them, that we could not
refuse.
_September 21_.--We rose at daylight. The morning was clear, and our
horses were shivering with the cold. The mission of San Francisco is
situated at the northern terminus of the fertile plain over which we
travelled yesterday, and at the foot, on the eastern side, of the coast
range of mountains. These mountains are of considerable elevation. The
shore of the Bay of San Francisco is about two miles distant from the
mission. An _arroyo_ waters the mission lands, and empties into the
bay. The church of the mission, and the main buildings contiguous, are
in tolerable repair. In the latter, several Mormon families, which
arrived in the ship Brooklyn from New York, are quartered. As in the
other missions I have passed through, the Indian quarters are crumbling
into shapeless heaps of mud.
Our aged host, notwithstanding he is a pious Catholic, and considers us
as heretics and heathens, gave us his benediction in a very impressive
manner when we were about to start. Mounting our horses at sunrise, we
travelled three miles over low ridges of sand-hills, with sufficient
soil, however, to produce a thick growth of scrubby evergreen oak, and
brambles of hawthorn, wild currant and gooseberry bushes, rose bushes,
briers, etc. We reached the residence of Wm. A. Leidesdorff, Esq., late
American vice-consul at San Francisco, when the sun was about an hour
high. The morning was calm and beautiful. Not a ripple disturbed the
placid and glassy surface of the magnificent bay and harbour, upon
which rested at anchor thirty large vessels, consisting of whalemen,
merchantmen, and the U.S. sloop-of-war Portsmouth, Captain Montgomery.
Besides these, there were numerous small craft, giving to the harbour a
commercial air, of which some of the large cities on the Atlantic coast
would feel vain. The bay, from the town of San Francisco due east, is
about twelve miles in breadth. An elevated range of hills bounds the
view on the opposite side. These slope gradually down, and between them
and the shore there is a broad and fertile plain, which is called the
_Contra Costa_. There are several small islands in the bay, but they do
not present a fertile appearance to the eye.
We were received with every mark of respectful attention and cordial
hospitality by Mr. Leidesdorff. Mr. L. is a native of Denmark; was for
some years a resident of the United States; but subsequently the
captain of a merchant vessel, and has been established at this place as
a merchant some five or six years. The house in which he resides, now
under the process of completion, is the largest private building in the
town. Being shown to a well-furnished room, we changed our
travel-soiled clothing for a more civilized costume, by which time
breakfast was announced, and we were ushered into a large dining-hall.
In the centre stood a table, upon which was spread a substantial
breakfast of stewed and fried beef, fried onions, and potatoes, bread,
butter, and coffee. Our appetites were very sharp, and we did full
justice to the merits of the fare before us. The servants waiting upon
the table were an Indian _muchachito_ and _muchachita_, about ten or
twelve years of age. They had not been long from their wild
_rancherias_, and knew but little of civilized life. Our host, however,
who speaks, I believe, nearly every living language, whether of
Christian, barbarian, or savage nations, seemed determined to impress
upon their dull intellects the forms and customs of civilization. He
scolded them with great vivacity, sometimes in their own tongue,
sometimes in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Danish, German, and English,
in accordance with the language in which he was thinking at the moment.
It seemed to me that the little fat Indians were more confused than
enlightened by his emphatic instructions. At the table, besides
ourselves and host, was Lieutenant W.A. Bartlett, of the U.S.
sloop-of-war Portsmouth, now acting as Alcalde of the town and district
of San Francisco.
The Portsmouth, Commander Montgomery, is the only United States vessel
of war now lying in the harbour. She is regarded as the finest vessel
of her class belonging to our navy. By invitation of Lieutenant
Bartlett, I went on board of her between ten and eleven o'clock. The
crew and officers were assembled on deck to attend Divine service. They
were all dressed with great neatness, and seemed to listen with deep
attention to the Episcopal service and a sermon, which were read by
Commander Montgomery, who is a member of the church.
In the afternoon I walked to the summit of one of the elevated hills in
the vicinity of the town, from which I had a view of the entrance to
the bay of San Francisco and of the Pacific Ocean. A thick fog hung
over the ocean outside of the bay. The deep roar of the eternally
restless waves, as they broke one after another upon the beach, or
dashed against the rock-bound shore, could be heard with great
distinctness, although some five or six miles distant. The entrance
from the ocean into the bay is about a mile and half in breadth. The
waters of the bay appear to have forced a passage through the elevated
ridge of hills next to the shore of the Pacific. These rise abruptly on
either side of the entrance. The water at the entrance and inside is of
sufficient depth to admit the largest ship that was ever constructed;
and so completely land-locked and protected from the winds is the
harbour, that vessels can ride at anchor in perfect safety in all kinds
of weather. The capacity of the harbour is sufficient for the
accommodation of all the navies of the world.
The town of San Francisco is situated on the south side of the
entrance, fronting on the bay, and about six miles from the ocean. The
flow and ebb of the tide are sufficient to bring a vessel to the
anchorage in front of the town and carry it outside, without the aid of
wind, or even against an unfavourable wind. A more approachable
harbour, or one of greater security, is unknown to navigators. The
permanent population of the town is at this time between one and two
hundred,[1] and is composed almost exclusively of foreigners. There are
but two or three native Californian families in the place. The
transient population, and at present it is quite numerous, consists of
the garrison of marines stationed here, and the officers and crews
attached to the merchant and whale ships lying in the harbour. The
houses, with a few exceptions, are small adobes and frames, constructed
without regard to architectural taste, convenience, or comfort. Very
few of them have either chimneys or fire-places. The inhabitants
contrive to live the year round without fires, except for cooking. The
position of San Francisco for commerce is, without doubt, superior to
any other port on the Pacific coast of North America. The country
contiguous and contributory to it cannot be surpassed in fertility,
healthfulness of climate, and beauty of scenery. It is capable of
producing whatever is necessary to the sustenance of man, and many of
the luxuries of tropical climates, not taking into the account the
mineral wealth of the surrounding hills and mountains, which there is
reason to believe is very great. This place is, doubtless, destined to
become one of the largest and most opulent commercial cities in the
world, and under American authority it will rise with astonishing
rapidity. The principal merchants now established here are Messrs.
Leidesdorff, Grimes and Davis, and Frank Ward, a young gentleman
recently from New York. These houses carry on an extensive and
profitable commerce with the interior, the Sandwich Islands, Oregon,
and the southern coast of the Pacific. The produce of Oregon for
exportation is flour, lumber, salmon, and cheese; of the Sandwich
Islands, sugar, coffee, and preserved tropical fruits.
California, until recently, has had no commerce, in the broad
signification of the term. A few commercial houses of Boston and New
York have monopolized all the trade on this coast for a number of
years. These houses have sent out ships freighted with cargoes of dry
goods and a variety of _knick-knacks_ saleable in the country. The
ships are fitted up for the retail sale of these articles, and trade
from port to port, vending their wares on board to the rancheros at
prices that would be astonishing at home. For instance, the price of
common brown cotton cloth is one dollar per yard, and other articles in
this and even greater proportion of advance upon home prices. They
receive in payment for their wares, hides and tallow. The price of a
dry hide is ordinarily one dollar and fifty cents. The price of tallow
I do not know. When the ship has disposed of her cargo, she is loaded
with hides, and returns to Boston, where the hides bring about four or
five dollars, according to the fluctuations of the market. Immense
fortunes have been made by this trade; and between the government of
Mexico and the traders on the coast California has been literally
_skinned_, annually, for the last thirty years. Of natural wealth the
population of California possess a superabundance, and are immensely
rich; still, such have been the extortionate prices that they have been
compelled to pay for their commonest artificial luxuries and
wearing-apparel, that generally they are but indifferently provided
with the ordinary necessaries of civilized life. For a suit of clothes,
which in New York or Boston would cost seventy-five dollars, the
Californian has been compelled to pay five times that sum in hides at
one dollar and fifty cents; so that a _caballero_, to clothe himself
genteelly, has been obliged, as often as he renewed his dress, to
sacrifice about two hundred of the cattle on his rancho. No people,
whether males or females, are more fond of display; no people have paid
more dearly to gratify this vanity; and yet no civilized people I have
seen are so deficient in what they most covet.
[1] This was in September, 1846. In June, 1847, when I left San
Francisco, on my return to the United States, the population had
increased to about twelve hundred, and houses were rising in all
directions.
CHAPTER IV.
Climate of San Francisco
Periodical winds
Dine on board the Portsmouth
A supper party on shore
Arrival of Commodore Stockton at San Francisco
Rumours of rebellion from the south
Californian court
Trial by jury
Fandango
Californian belles
American pioneers of the Pacific
Reception of Commodore Stockton
Sitca
Captain Fremont leaves San Francisco for the south
Offer our services as volunteers.
From the 21st of September to the 13th of October I remained at San
Francisco. The weather during this period was uniformly clear. The
climate of San Francisco is peculiar and local, from its position.
During the summer and autumnal months, the wind on this coast blows
from the west and northwest, directly from the ocean. The mornings here
are usually calm and pleasantly warm. About twelve o'clock M., the wind
blows strong from the ocean, through the entrance of the bay, rendering
the temperature cool enough for woollen clothing in midsummer. About
sunset the wind dies away, and the evenings and nights are comparatively
calm. In the winter months the wind blows in soft and gentle breezes
from the south-east, and the temperature is agreeable, the thermometer
rarely sinking below 50 deg. When the winds blow from the ocean, it
never rains; when they blow from the land, as they do during the winter
and spring months, the weather is showery, and resembles that of the
month of May in the same latitude on the Atlantic coast. The coolness
of the climate and briskness of the air above described are confined to
particular positions on the coast, and the description in this respect
is not applicable to the interior of the country, nor even to other
localities immediately on the coast.
On the 21st, by invitation of Captain Montgomery, I dined on board of
the sloop-of-war Portsmouth. The party, including myself, consisted of
Colonel Russell, Mr. Jacob, Lieutenant Bartlett, and a son of Captain
M. There are few if any officers in our navy more highly and
universally esteemed, for their moral qualities and professional
merits, than Captain M. He is a sincere Christian, a brave officer, and
an accomplished gentleman. Under the orders of Commodore Sloat, he
first raised the American flag in San Francisco. We spent the afternoon
most agreeably, and the refined hospitality, courteous manners, and
intelligent and interesting conversation of our host made us regret the
rapidly fleeting moments. The wines on the table were the produce of
the vine of California, and, having attained age, were of an excellent
quality in substance and flavour.
I attended a supper-party given this evening by Mr. Frank Ward. The
party was composed of citizens of the town, and officers of the navy
and the merchant and whale ships in the harbour. In such a company as
was here assembled, it was very difficult for me to realize that I was
many thousand miles from, home, in a strange and foreign country. All
the faces about me were American, and there was nothing in scene or
sentiment to remind the guests of their remoteness from their native
shores. Indeed, it seems to be a settled opinion, that California is
henceforth to compose a part of the United States, and every American
who is now here considers himself as treading upon his own soil, as
much as if he were in one of the old thirteen revolutionary states.
Song, sentiment, story, and wit heightened the enjoyments of the
excellent entertainment of our host, and the jovial party did not
separate until a late hour of the night. The guests, as may be
supposed, were composed chiefly of gentlemen who had, from their
pursuits, travelled over most of the world--had seen developments of
human character under every variety of circumstance, and observed
society, civilized, barbarous, and savage, in all its phases. Their
conversation, therefore, when around the convivial board, possessed an
unhackneyed freshness and raciness highly entertaining and instructive.
On the 27th of September, the U.S. frigate Congress, Captain
Livingston, bearing the broad pennant of Commodore Stockton, and the
U.S. frigate Savannah, Captain Mervine, anchored in the harbour, having
sailed from Monterey a day or two previously. The arrival of these
large men-of-war produced an increase of the bustle in the small town.
Blue coats and bright buttons (the naval uniform) became the prevailing
costume at the billiard-rooms and other public places, and the plain
dress of a private citizen might be regarded as a badge of distinction.
On the 1st of October a courier arrived from the south with
intelligence that the Californians at Los Angeles had organized a force
and rebelled against the authority of the Americans--that they had also
captured an American merchant-vessel lying at San Pedro, the port of
the city of Angels, about thirty miles distant, and robbed it of a
quantity of merchandise and specie. Whether this latter report was or
was not true, I do not know--the former was correct. The frigate
Savannah sailed for Los Angeles immediately.
Among those American naval officers whose agreeable acquaintance I made
at San Francisco, was Mr. James F. Schenck, first-lieutenant of the
frigate Congress, brother of the distinguished member of congress from
Ohio of that name,--a native of Dayton, Ohio,--a gentleman of
intelligence, keen wit, and a most accomplished officer. The officers
of our navy are our representatives in foreign countries, and they are
generally such representatives as their constituents have reason to
feel proud of. Their chivalry, patriotism, gentlemanlike deportment,
and professional skill cannot be too much admired and applauded by
their countrymen. I shall ever feel grateful to the naval officers of
the Pacific squadron for their numerous civilities during my sojourn on
the Pacific coast.
Among the novelties presented while at San Francisco was a trial by
jury--the second tribunal of this kind which had been organized in
California. The trial look place before Judge Bartlett, and the
litigants were two Mormons. Counsel was employed on both sides. Some of
the forms of American judicial proceedings were observed, and many of
the legal technicalities and nice flaws, so often urged in common-law
courts, were here argued by the learned counsel of the parties, with a
vehemence of language and gesticulation with which I thought the legal
learning and acumen displayed did not correspond. The proceedings were
a mixture, made up of common law, equity, and a sprinkling of military
despotism--which last ingredient the court was compelled to employ,
when entangled in the intricate meshes woven by the counsel for the
litigants, in order to extricate itself. The jury, after the case was
referred to them, were what is called "hung;" they could not agree, and
the matters in issue, therefore, remained exactly where they were
before the proceedings were commenced.
I attended one evening a _fandango_ given by Mr. Ridley, an English
gentleman, whose wife is a Californian lady. Several of the senoras and
senoritas from the ranchos of the vicinity were present. The
Californian ladies dance with much ease and grace. The waltz appears to
be a favourite with them. Smoking is not prohibited in these
assemblies, nor is it confined to the gentlemen. The _cigarita_ is
freely used by the senoras and senoritas, and they puff it with much
gusto while threading the mazes of the cotillion or swinging in the
waltz.
I had the pleasure of being introduced, at the residence of Mr.
Leidesdorff, to two young ladies, sisters and belles in Alta
California. They are members of an old and numerous family on the
Contra Costa. Their names are singular indeed, for, if I heard them
correctly, one of them was called Donna Maria Jesus, and the other
Donna Maria Conception. They were interesting and graceful young
ladies, with regular features, symmetrical figures, and their dark eyes
flashed with all the intelligence and passion characteristic of Spanish
women.
Among the gentlemen with whom I met soon after my arrival at San
Francisco, and whoso acquaintance I afterwards cultivated, were Mr. E.
Grimes and Mr. N. Spear, both natives of Massachusetts, but residents
of this coast and of the Pacific Islands, for many years. They may be
called the patriarchs of American pioneers on the Pacific. After
forming an acquaintance with Mr. G., if any one were to say to me that
"Old Grimes is dead, that good old man,"
I should not hesitate to contradict him with emphasis; for he is still
living, and possesses all the charities and virtues which can adorn
human nature, with some of the eccentricities of his name-sake in the
song. By leading a life of peril and adventure on the Pacific Ocean for
fifty years he has accumulated a large fortune, and is a man now
proverbial for his integrity, candour, and charities. Both of these
gentlemen have been largely engaged in the local commerce of the
Pacific. Mr. S., some twenty-five or thirty years ago, colonized one of
the Cannibal Islands, and remained upon it with the colony for nearly
two years. The attempt to introduce agriculture into the island was a
failure, and the enterprise was afterwards abandoned.
On the evening of the third of October, it having been announced that
Commodore Stockton would land on the fifth, a public meeting of the
citizens was called by the alcalde, for the purpose of adopting
suitable arrangements for his reception, in his civic capacity as
governor. The meeting was convened in the _plaza_ (Portsmouth Square).
Colonel Russell was appointed chairman, and on motion of E. Bryant a
committee was appointed to make all necessary and suitable arrangements
for the reception of his excellency, Governor Stockton. The following
account of this pageant I extract from the "California" newspaper of
October 24th, 1846.
"Agreeable to public notice, a large number of the citizens of San
Francisco and vicinity assembled in Portsmouth Square for the purpose
of meeting his excellency Robert F. Stockton, to welcome his arrival,
and offer him the hospitalities of the city. At ten o'clock, a
procession was formed, led by the Chief Marshal of the day, supported
on either hand by two aids, followed by an excellent band of music--a
military escort, under command of Captain J. Zeilen, U.S.M.C.--Captain
John B. Montgomery and suite--Magistracy of the District, and the
Orator of the day--Foreign Consuls--Captain John Paty, Senior Captain
of the Hawanian Navy--Lieutenant-Commanding Ruducoff, Russian Navy, and
Lieutenant-Commanding Bonnett, French Navy. The procession was closed
by the Committee of Arrangements, captains of ships in port, and a long
line of citizens.
"General Mariano Guadaloupe Valléjo, with several others who had held
office under the late government, took their appropriate place in the
line.
"The procession moved in fine style down Portsmouth Street to the
landing, and formed a line in Water Street. The Governor-General landed
from his barge, and was met on the wharf by Captain John B. Montgomery,
U.S.N., Judge W.A. Bartlett, and Marshal of the day (Frank Ward), who
conducted him to the front of the line, and presented him to the
procession, through the orator of the day, Colonel Russell, who
addressed the commodore."
When the governor and commander-in-chief had closed his reply, the
procession moved through the principal streets, and halted in front of
Captain Leidesdorff's residence, where the governor and suite entered,
and was presented to a number of ladies, who welcomed him to the shores
of California. After which a large portion of the procession
accompanied the governor, on horseback, to the mission of San Francisco
Dolores, several miles in the country, and returned to an excellent
collation prepared by the committee of arrangements, at the house of
Captain Leidesdorff. After the cloth was removed, the usual number of
regular toasts, prepared by the committee of arrangements, and numerous
volunteer sentiments by the members of the company, were drunk with
many demonstrations of enthusiasm, and several speeches were made. In
response to a complimentary toast, Commodore Stockton made an eloquent
address of an hour's length. The toasts given in English were
translated into Spanish, and those given in Spanish were translated
into English. A ball in honour of the occasion was given by the
committee of arrangements in the evening, which was attended by all the
ladies, native and foreign, in the town and vicinity, the naval
officers attached to the three ships of war, and the captains of the
merchant vessels lying in the harbour. So seductive were the
festivities of the day and the pleasures of the dance, that they were
not closed until a late hour of the night, or rather until an early
hour in the morning.
Among the numerous vessels of many nations at anchor in the harbour is
a Russian brig from Sitca, the central port of the Russian-American Fur
Company, on the northwestern coast of this continent. She is commanded
by Lieutenant Ruducoff of the Russian navy, and is here to be freighted
with wheat to supply that settlement with breadstuff. Sitca is situated
in a high northern latitude, and has a population of some four or five
thousand inhabitants. A large portion of these, I conjecture, are
christianized natives or Indians. Many of the crew of this vessel are
the aborigines of the country to which she belongs, and from which she
last sailed. I noticed, however, from an inscription, that the brig was
built at Newburyport, Massachusetts, showing that the autocrat of all
the Russias is tributary, to some extent, to the free Yankees of New
England for his naval equipment. On the 11th of October, by invitation
of Lieutenant Ruducoff, in company of Mr. Jacob and Captain
Leidesdorff, I dined on board this vessel. The Russian customs are in
some respects peculiar. Soon after we reached the vessel and were shown
into the cabin, a lunch was served up. This consisted of a variety of
dried and smoked fish, pickled fish-roe, and other hyperborean pickles,
the nature of which, whether animal or vegetable, I could not
determine. Various wines and liquors accompanied this lunch, the
discussion of which lasted until an Indian servant, a native of the
north-pole, or thereabouts, announced dinner. We were then shown into a
handsomely furnished dining-cabin, where the table was spread. The
dinner consisted of several courses, some of which were peculiarly
Russian or Sitcan, and I regret that my culinary knowledge is not equal
to the task of describing them, for the benefit of epicures of a more
southern region than the place of their invention. They were certainly
very delightful to the palate. The afternoon glided away most
agreeably.
On the 12th of October, Captain Fremont, with a number of volunteers
destined for the south, to co-operate with Commodore Stockton in the
suppression of the reported rebellion at Los Angeles, arrived at San
Francisco from the Sacramento. I had previously offered my services,
and Mr. Jacob had done the same, to Commodore Stockton, as volunteers
in this expedition, if they were necessary or desirable. They were now
repeated. Although travellers in the country, we were American
citizens, and we felt under obligation to assist in defending the flag
of our country wherever it had been planted by proper authority. At
this time we were given to understand that a larger force than was
already organised was not considered necessary for the expedition.
CHAPTER V.
Leave San Francisco for Sonoma
Sonoma creek
"Bear men."
Islands in the bay
Liberality of "Uncle Sam" to sailors
Sonoma
Beautiful country
General Valléjo
Senora Valléjo
Thomas O. Larkin, U.S. Consul
Signs of rain
The seasons in California
More warlike rumours from the south
Mission of San Rafael
An Irish ranchero
Sausolito
Return to San Francisco
Meet Lippincott
Discomfort of Californian houses.
_October 13_.--This morning the United States frigate Congress,
Commodore Stockton, and the merchant-ship Sterling, employed to
transport the volunteers under the command of Captain Fremont (one
hundred and eighty in number), sailed for the south. The destination of
these vessels was understood to be San Pedro or San Diego. While those
vessels were leaving the harbour, accompanied by Mr. Jacob, I took
passage for Sonoma in a cutter belonging to the sloop-of-war
Portsmouth. Sonoma is situated on the northern side of the Bay of San
Francisco, about 15 miles from the shore, and about 45 miles from the
town of San Francisco. Sonoma creek is navigable for vessels of
considerable burden to within four miles of the town.
Among the passengers in the boat were Mr. Ide, who acted so conspicuous
a part in what is called the "Bear Revolution," and Messrs. Nash and
Grigsby, who were likewise prominent in this movement. The boat was
manned by six sailors and a cockswain. We passed Yerba Buena, Bird, and
several other small islands in the bay. Some of these are white, as if
covered with snow, from the deposit upon them of bird-manure. Tens of
thousands of wild geese, ducks, gulls, and other water-fowls, were
perched upon them, or sporting in the waters of the bay, making a
prodigious cackling and clatter with their voices and wings. By the aid
of oars and sails we reached the mouth of Sonoma creek about 9 o'clock
at night, where we landed and encamped on the low marsh which borders
the bay on this side. The marshes contiguous to the Bay of San
Francisco are extensive, and with little trouble I believe they could
be reclaimed and transformed into valuable and productive rice
plantations. Having made our supper on raw salt pork and bread
generously furnished by the sailors, as soon as we landed, we spread
our blankets on the damp and rank vegetation and slept soundly until
morning.
_October 14_.--Wind and tide being favourable, at daylight we proceeded
up the serpentine creek, which winds through a flat and fertile plain,
sometimes marshy, at others more elevated and dry, to the
_embarcadero_, ten or twelve miles from the bay. We landed here between
nine and ten o'clock, A.M. All the passengers, except ourselves,
proceeded immediately to the town. By them we sent for a cart to
transport our saddles, bridles, blankets, and other baggage, which we
had brought with us. While some of the sailors were preparing
breakfast, others, with their muskets, shot wild geese, with which the
plain was covered. An excellent breakfast was prepared in a short time
by our sailor companions, of which we partook with them. No benevolent
old gentleman provides more bountifully for his servants than "Uncle
Sam." These sailors, from the regular rations served out to them from
their ship, gave an excellent breakfast, of bread, butter, coffee, tea,
fresh beefsteaks, fried salt pork, cheese, pickles, and a variety of
other delicacies, to which we had been unaccustomed for several months,
and which cannot be obtained at present in this country. They all said
that their rations were more than ample in quantity, and excellent in
quality, and that no government was so generous in supplying its
sailors as the government of the United States. They appeared to be
happy, and contented with their condition and service, and animated
with a patriotic pride for the honour of their country, and the flag
under which they sailed. The open frankness and honest patriotism of
these single-hearted and weather-beaten tars gave a spice and flavour
to our entertainment which I shall not soon forget.
From the _embarcadero_ we walked, under the influence of the rays of an
almost broiling sun, four miles to the town of Sonoma. The plain, which
lies between the landing and Sonoma, is timbered sparsely with
evergreen oaks. The luxuriant grass is now brown and crisp. The hills
surrounding this beautiful valley or plain are gentle, sloping, highly
picturesque, and covered to their tops with wild oats. Reaching Sonoma,
we procured lodgings in a large and half-finished adobe house, erected
by Don Salvador Valléjo, but now occupied by Mr. Griffith, an American
emigrant, originally from North Carolina. Sonoma is one of the old
mission establishments of California; but there is now scarcely a
mission building standing, most of them having fallen into shapeless
masses of mud; and a few years will prostrate the roofless walls which
are now standing. The principal houses in the place are the residences
of Gen. Don Mariano Guadaloupe Valléjo; his brother-in-law, Mr. J.P.
Leese, an American; and his brother, Don Salvador Valléjo. The quartel,
a barn-like adobe house, faces the public square. The town presents a
most dull and ruinous appearance; but the country surrounding it is
exuberantly fertile, and romantically picturesque, and Sonoma, under
American authority, and with an American population, will very soon
become a secondary commercial point, and a delightful residence. Most
of the buildings are erected around a _plaza_, about two hundred yards
square. The only ornaments in this square are numerous skulls and
dislocated skeletons of slaughtered beeves, with which hideous remains
the ground is strewn. Cold and warm springs gush from the hills near
the town, and supply, at all seasons, a sufficiency of water to
irrigate any required extent of ground on the plain below. I noticed
outside of the square several groves of peach and other fruit trees,
and vineyards, which were planted here by the _padres_; but the walls
and fences that once surrounded them are now fallen, or have been
consumed for fuel; and they are exposed to the _mercies_ of the immense
herds of cattle which roam over and graze upon the plain.
_October 15_.--I do not like to trouble the reader with a frequent
reference to the myriads of fleas and other vermin which infest the
rancherias and old mission establishments in California; but, if any
sinning soul ever suffered the punishments of purgatory before leaving
its tenement of clay, those torments were endured by myself last night.
When I rose from my blankets this morning, after a sleepless night, I
do not think there was an inch square of my body that did not exhibit
the inflammation consequent upon a puncture by a flea, or some other
equally rabid and poisonous insect. Small-pox, erysipelas, measles, and
scarlet-fever combined, could not have imparted to my skin a more
inflamed and sanguineous appearance. The multitudes of these insects,
however, have been generated by Indian filthiness. They do not disturb
the inmates of those _casas_ where cleanliness prevails.
Having letters of introduction to General Valléjo and Mr. Leese, I
delivered them this morning. General Valléjo is a native Californian,
and a gentleman of intelligence and taste far superior to most of his
countrymen. The interior of his house presented a different appearance
from any house occupied by native Californians which I have entered
since I have been in the country. Every apartment, even the main
entrance-hall and corridors, were scrupulously clean, and presented an
air of comfort which I have not elsewhere seen in California. The
parlour was furnished with handsome chairs, sofas, mirrors, and tables,
of mahogany framework, and a fine piano, the first I have seen in the
country. Several paintings and some superior engravings ornamented the
walls. Senora Valléjo is a lady of charming personal appearance, and
possesses in the highest degree that natural grace, ease, and warmth of
manner which render Spanish ladies so attractive and fascinating to the
stranger. The children, some five or six in number, were all beautiful
and interesting. General V. is, I believe, strongly desirous that the
United States shall retain and annex California. He is thoroughly
disgusted with Mexican sway, which is fast sending his country
backwards, instead of forwards, in the scale of civilization, and for
years he has been desirous of the change which has now taken place.
In the afternoon we visited the house of Mr. Leese, which is also
furnished in American style. Mr. L. is the proprietor of a vineyard in
the vicinity of the town, and we were regaled upon grapes as luscious,
I dare say, as the forbidden fruit that provoked the first
transgression. Nothing of the fruit kind can exceed the delicious
richness and flavour, of the California grape.
This evening Thomas O. Larkin, Esq., late United States Consul for
California, arrived here, having left San Francisco on the same morning
that we did, travelling by land. Mr. L. resides in Monterey, but I had
the pleasure of an introduction to him at San Francisco several days
previously to my leaving that place. Mr. L. is a native of Boston, and
has been a resident in California for about fifteen years, during which
time he has amassed a large fortune, and from the changes now taking
place he is rapidly increasing it. He will probably be the first
American millionnaire of California.
_October 17_.--The last two mornings have been cloudy and cool. The
rainy season, it is thought by the weather-wise in this climate, will
set in earlier this year than usual. The periodical rains ordinarily
commence about the middle of November. It is now a month earlier, and
the meteorological phenomena portend "falling weather." The rains
during the winter, in California, are not continuous, as is generally
supposed. It sometimes rains during an entire day, without cessation,
but most generally the weather is showery, with intervals of bright
sunshine and a delightful temperature. The first rains of the year fall
usually in November, and the last about the middle of May. As soon as
the ground becomes moistened, the grass, and other hardy vegetation,
springs up, and by the middle of December the landscape is arrayed in a
robe of fresh verdure. The grasses grow through the entire winter, and
most of them mature by the first of May. The season for sowing wheat
commences as soon as the ground is sufficiently softened by moisture to
admit of ploughing, and continues until March or April.
We had made preparations this morning to visit a rancho, belonging to
General Valléjo, in company with the general and Mr. Larkin. This
rancho contains about eleven leagues of land, bordering upon a portion
of the Bay of San Francisco, twenty-five or thirty miles distant from
Sonoma. Just as we were about mounting our horses, however, a courier
arrived from San Francisco with despatches from Captain Montgomery,
addressed to Lieutenant Revere, the military commandant at this post,
giving such intelligence in regard to the insurrection at the south,
that we determined to return to San Francisco forthwith. Procuring
horses, and accompanied by Mr. Larkin, we left Sonoma about two o'clock
in the afternoon, riding at the usual California speed. After leaving
Sonoma plain we crossed a ridge of hills, and entered the fertile and
picturesque valley of Petaluma creek, which empties into the bay.
General Valléjo has an extensive rancho in this valley, upon which he
has recently erected, at great expense, a very large house.
Architecture, however, in this country is in its infancy. The money
expended in erecting this house, which presents to the eye no tasteful
architectural attractions, would, in the United States, have raised a
palace of symmetrical proportions, and adorned it with every requisite
ornament. Large herds of cattle were grazing in this valley.
From Petaluma valley we crossed a high rolling country, and reached the
mission of San Rafael (forty-five miles) between seven and eight
o'clock in the evening. San Rafael is situated two or three miles from
the shore of the bay, and commands an extensive view of the bay and its
islands. The mission buildings are generally in the same ruinous
condition I have before described. We put up at the house of a Mr.
Murphy, a scholastic Irish bachelor, who has been a resident of
California for a number of years. His _casa_, when we arrived, was
closed, and it was with some difficulty that we could gain admission.
When, however, the occupant of the house had ascertained, from one of
the loopholes of the building, who we were, the doors were soon
unbarred and we were admitted, but not without many sallies of Irish
wit, sometimes good-natured, and sometimes keenly caustic and ironical.
We found a table spread with cold mutton and cold beef upon it. A cup
of coffee was soon prepared by the Indian muchachos and muchachas, and
our host brought out some scheidam and _aguardiénte_. A draught or two
of these liquids seemed to correct the acidity of his humour, and he
entertained us with his jokes and conversation several hours.
_October 18_.--From San Rafael to Sausolito, opposite San Francisco on
the north side of the entrance to the bay, it is five leagues (fifteen
miles), generally over elevated hills and through deep hollows, the
ascents and descents being frequently steep and laborious to our
animals. Starting at half-past seven o'clock, we reached the residence
of Captain Richardson, the proprietor of Sausolito, about nine o'clock
in the morning. In travelling this distance we passed some temporary
houses, erected by American emigrants on the mission lands, and the
rancho of Mrs. Reed, a widow. We immediately hired a whale-boat from
one of the ships, lying here, at two dollars for each passenger, and
between ten and eleven o'clock we landed in San Francisco.
I met, soon after my arrival, Mr. Lippincott, heretofore mentioned, who
accompanied us a portion of the distance over the mountains; and Mr.
Hastings, who, with Mr. Hudspeth, conducted a party of the emigrants
from fort Bridger by the new route, _via_ the south end of the Salt
Lake, to Mary's River. From Mr. Lippincott I learned the particulars of
an engagement between a party of the emigrants (Captain West's company)
and the Indians on Mary's River, which resulted, as has before been
stated, in the death of Mr. Sallee and a dangerous arrow wound to Mr.
L. He had now, however, recovered from the effects of the wound. The
emigrants, who accompanied Messrs. Hastings and Hudspeth, or followed
their trail, had all reached the valley of the Sacramento without any
material loss or disaster.
I remained at San Francisco from the 18th to the 22d of October. The
weather during this time was sufficiently cool to render fires
necessary to comfort in the houses; but fireplaces or stoves are
luxuries which but few of the San Franciscans have any knowledge of,
except in their kitchens. This deficiency, however, will soon be
remedied. American settlers here will not build houses without
chimneys. They would as soon plan a house without a door, or with the
entrance upon its roof, in imitation of the architecture of the Pueblo
Indians of New Mexico.
CHAPTER VI.
Boat trip up the bay and the Sacramento to New Helvetia
An appeal to the alcalde
Kanackas
Straits of San Pueblo and Pedro
Straits of Carquinez
Town of Francisca
Feather-beds furnished by nature
Mouth of the Sacramento
Islands
Delaware Tom
A man who has forgotten his mother tongue
Salmon of the Sacramento
Indian fishermen
Arrive at New Helvetia.
_October 22_.--Having determined to make a trip to Nueva Helvetia by
water, for the purpose of examining more particularly the upper portion
of the bay and the Sacramento river, in conjunction with Mr. Larkin, we
chartered a small open sail-boat for the excursion. The charter, to
avoid disputes, was regularly drawn and signed, with all conditions
specified. The price to be paid for a certain number of passengers was
thirty-two dollars, and demurrage at the rate of twenty-five cents per
hour for all delays ordered by the charter-party, on the trip upwards
to Nueva Helvetia. The boat was to be ready at the most convenient
landing at seven o'clock this morning, but when I called at the place
appointed, with our baggage, the boat was not there. In an hour or two
the skipper was found, but refused to comply with his contract. We
immediately laid our grievance before the alcalde, who, after reading
the papers and hearing the statements on both sides, ordered the
skipper to perform what he had agreed to perform, to which decision he
reluctantly assented. In order to facilitate matters, I paid the costs
of the action myself, although the successful litigant in the suit.
We left San Francisco about two o'clock P.M., and, crossing the mouth
of the bay, boarded a Mexican schooner, a prize captured by the U.S.
sloop-of-war Cyane, Captain Dupont, which had entered the bay this
morning and anchored in front of Sausolito. The prize is commanded by
Lieutenant Renshaw, a gallant officer of our navy. Our object in
boarding the schooner was to learn the latest news, but she did not
bring much. We met on board the schooner Lieutenant Hunter of the
Portsmouth, a chivalrous officer, and Lieutenant Ruducoff, commanding
the Russian brig previously mentioned, whose vessel, preparatory to
sailing, was taking in water at Sausolito. Accepting of his pressing
invitation, we visited the brig, and took a parting glass of wine with
her gallant and gentlemanly commander.
About five o'clock P.M., we proceeded on our voyage. At eight o'clock a
dense fog hung over the bay, and, the ebb-tide being adverse to our
progress, we were compelled to find a landing for our small and frail
craft. This was not an easy matter, in the almost impenetrable
darkness. As good-luck would have it, however, after we had groped
about for some time, a light was discovered by our skipper. He rowed
the boat towards it, but grounded. Hauling off, he made another attempt
with better success, reaching within hailing distance of the shore. The
light proceeded from a camp-fire of three Kanacka (Sandwich island)
runaway sailors. As soon as they ascertained who we were and what we
wanted, they stripped themselves naked, and, wading through the mud and
water to the boat, took us on their shoulders, and carried us high and
dry to the land. The boat, being thus lightened of her burden, was
rowed farther up, and landed.
The natives of the Sandwich islands (Kanackas, as they are called) are,
without doubt, the most expert watermen in the world. Their
performances in swimming and diving are so extraordinary, that they may
almost be considered amphibious in their natures and instincts. Water
appears to be as much their natural element as the land. They have
straight black hair, good features, and an amiable and intelligent
expression of countenance. Their complexion resembles that of a bright
mulatto; and, in symmetrical proportions and muscular developments,
they will advantageously compare with any race of men I have seen. The
crews of many of the whale and merchant ships on this coast are partly
composed of Kanackas, and they are justly esteemed as most valuable
sailors.
_October 23_.--The damp raw weather, auguring the near approach of the
autumnal rains, continues. A drizzling mist fell on us during the
night, and the clouds were not dissipated when we resumed our voyage
this morning. Passing through the straits of San Pablo and San Pedro,
we entered a division of the bay called the bay of San Pablo. Wind and
tide being in our favour, we crossed this sheet of water, and
afterwards entered and passed through the Straits of _Carquinez_. At
these straits the waters of the bay are compressed within the breadth
of a mile, for the distance of about two leagues. On the southern side
the shore is hilly, and _canoned_ in some places. The northern shore is
gentle, the hills and table-land sloping gradually down to the water.
We landed at the bend of the Straits of _Carquinez_, and spent several
hours in examining the country and soundings on the northern side.
There is no timber here. The soil is covered with a growth of grass and
white oats. The bend of the Straits of Carquinez, on the northern side,
has been thought to be a favourable position for a commercial town. It
has some advantages and some disadvantages, which it would be tedious
for me now to detail.
[Subsequently to this my first visit here, a town of extensive
dimensions has been laid off by Gen. Valléjo and Mr. Semple, the
proprietors, under the name of "Francisca." It fronts for two or three
miles on the "_Soeson_," the upper division of the Bay of San
Francisco, and the Straits of Carquinez. A ferry has also been
established, which crosses regularly from shore to shore, conveying
travellers over the bay. I crossed, myself and horses, here in June,
1847, when on my return to the United States. Lots had then been
offered to settlers on favourable conditions, and preparations, I
understand, were making for the erection of a number of houses.]
About sunset we resumed our voyage. The Wind having lulled, we
attempted to stem the adverse tide by the use of oars, but the ebb of
the tide was stronger than the propelling force of our oars. Soon, in
spite of all our exertions, we found ourselves drifting rapidly
backwards, and, after two or three hours of hard labour in the dark, we
were at last so fortunate as to effect a landing in a cove on the
southern side of the straits, having retrograded several miles. In the
cove there is a small sandy beach, upon which the waves have drifted,
and deposited a large quantity of oat-straw, and feathers shed by the
millions of water-fowls which sport upon the bay. On this downy deposit
furnished by nature we spread our blankets, and slept soundly.
_October 24_.--We proceeded on our voyage at daylight, coasting along
the southern shore of the _Soeson_. About nine o'clock we landed on a
marshy plain, and cooked breakfast. A range of mountains bounds this
plain, the base of which is several miles from the shore of the bay.
These mountains, although of considerable elevation, exhibit signs of
fertility to their summits. On the plain, numerous herds of wild cattle
were grazing. About two o'clock, P.M., we entered the mouth of the
Sacramento. The Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers empty into the Bay of
San Francisco at the same point, about sixty miles from the Pacific,
and by numerous mouths or _sloughs_ as they are here called. These
sloughs wind through an immense timbered swamp, and constitute a
terraqueous labyrinth of such intricacy, that unskilful and
inexperienced navigators have been lost for many days in it, and some,
I have been told, have perished, never finding their way out. A range
of low sloping hills approach the Sacramento a short distance above its
mouth, on the left-hand side as you ascend, and run parallel with the
stream several miles. The banks of the river, and several large islands
which we passed during the day, are timbered with sycamore, oak, and a
variety of smaller trees and shrubbery. Numerous grape-vines, climbing
over the trees, and loaded down with a small and very acid fruit, give
to the forest a tangled appearance. The islands of the Sacramento are
all low, and subject to overflow in the spring of the year. The soil of
the river bottom, including the islands, is covered with rank
vegetation, a certain evidence of its fertility. The water, at this
season, is perfectly limpid, and, although the tide ebbs and flows more
than a hundred miles above the mouth of the river, it is fresh and
sweet. The channel of the Sacramento is remarkably free from snags and
other obstructions to navigation. A more beautiful and placid stream of
water I never saw.
At twelve o'clock at night, the ebb-tide being so strong that we found
ourselves drifting backwards, with some difficulty we effected a
landing on one of the islands, clearing a way through the tangled brush
and vines with our hatchets and knives. Lighting a fire, we bivouacked
until daylight.
_October 25_.--Continuing our voyage, we landed, about nine o'clock,
A.M., at an Indian _rancheria_, situated on the bank of the river. An
old Indian, his wife, and two or three children, were all the present
occupants of this _rancheria_. The woman was the most miserable and
emaciated object I ever beheld. She was probably a victim of the
"sweat-house." Surrounding the _rancheria_ were two or three acres of
ground, planted with maize, beans, and melons. Purchasing a quantity of
water and musk-melons, we re-embarked and pursued our voyage. As we
ascended the stream, the banks became more elevated, the country on
both sides opening into vast savannas, dotted occasionally with parks
of evergreen oak.
The tide turning against us again about eleven or twelve o'clock, we
landed at an encampment of Walla-Walla Indians, a portion of the party
previously referred to, and reported to have visited California for
hostile purposes. Among them was a Delaware Indian, known as "Delaware
Tom," who speaks English as fluently as any Anglo-Saxon, and is a most
gallant and honourable Indian. Several of the party, a majority of whom
were women and children, were sick with chills and fever. The men were
engaged in hunting and jerking deer and elk meat. Throwing our hooks,
baited with fresh meat, into the river, we soon drew out small fish
enough for dinner.
The specimens of Walla-Wallas at this encampment are far superior to
the Indians of California in features, figure, and intelligence. Their
complexion is much lighter, and their features more regular,
expressive, and pleasing. Men and women were clothed in dressed skins.
The men were armed with rifles.
At sunset we put our little craft in motion again, and at one o'clock
at night landed near the cabin of a German emigrant named Schwartz, six
miles below the _embarcadero_ of New Helvetia. The cabin is about
twenty feet in length by twelve in breadth, constructed of a light rude
frame, shingled with _tule_. After gaining admission, we found a fire
blazing in the centre of the dwelling on the earth-floor, and suspended
over us were as many salmon, taken from the Sacramento, as could be
placed in position to imbibe the preservative qualities of the smoke.
Our host, Mr. Schwartz, is one of those eccentric human phenomena
rarely met with, who, wandering from their own nation into foreign
countries, forget their own language without acquiring any other. He
speaks a tongue (language it cannot be called) peculiar to himself, and
scarcely intelligible. It is a mixture, in about equal parts, of
German, English, French, Spanish, and _rancheria_ Indian, a compounded
polyglot or lingual _pi_--each syllable of a word sometimes being
derived from a different language. Stretching ourselves on the benches
surrounding the fire, so as to avoid the drippings from the pendent
salmon, we slept until morning.
_October 26_.--Mr. Schwartz provided us with a breakfast of fried
salmon and some fresh milk. Coffee, sugar, and bread we brought with
us, so that we enjoyed a luxurious repast.
Near the house was a shed containing some forty or fifty barrels of
pickled salmon, but the fish, from their having been badly put up, were
spoiled. Mr. Schwartz attempted to explain the particular causes of
this, but I could not understand him. The salmon are taken with seines
dragged across the channel of the river by Indians in canoes. On the
bank of the river the Indians were eating their breakfast, which
consisted of a large fresh salmon, roasted in the ashes or embers, and
a kettle of _atole_, made of acorn-meal. The salmon was four or five
feet in length, and, when taken out of the fire and cut open, presented
a most tempting appearance. The Indians were all nearly naked, and most
of them, having been wading in the water at daylight to set their
seines, were shivering with the cold whilst greedily devouring their
morning meal.
We reached the _embarcadero_ of New Helvetia about eleven o'clock,
A.M., and, finding there a wagon, we placed our baggage in it, and
walked to the fort, about two and a half miles.
CHAPTER VII.
Disastrous news from the south
Return of Colonel Fremont to Monterey
Call for volunteers
Volunteer our services
Leave New Helvetia
Swimming the Sacramento
First fall of rain
Beautiful and romantic valley
Precipitous mountains
Deserted house
Arable land of California
Fattening qualities of the acorn
Lost in the Coast Mountains
Strange Indians
Indian women gathering grass-seed for bread
Indian guide
Laguna
Rough dialogue
Hunters' camp
"Old Greenwood"
Grisly bear meat
Greenwood's account of himself
His opinion of the Indians and Spaniards
Retrace our steps
Severe storm
Nappa valley
Arrive at Sonoma
More rain
Arrive at San Francisco
Return to New Helvetia.
I remained at the fort from the 27th to the 30th of October. On the
28th, Mr. Reed, whom I have before mentioned as belonging to the rear
emigrating party, arrived here. He left his party on Mary's River, and
in company with one man crossed the desert and the mountains. He was
several days without provisions, and, when he arrived at Johnson's, was
so much emaciated and exhausted by fatigue and famine, that he could
scarcely walk. His object was to procure provisions immediately, and to
transport them with pack-mules over the mountains for the relief of the
suffering emigrants behind. He had lost all of his cattle, and had been
compelled to _cache_ two of his wagons and most of his property.
Captain Sutter generously furnished the requisite quantity of mules and
horses, with Indian vaqueros, and jerked meat and flour. This is the
second expedition for the relief of the emigrants he has fitted out
since our arrival in the country. Ex-governor Boggs and family reached
Sutter's Fort to-day.
On the evening of the 28th, a courier arrived with letters from Colonel
Fremont, now at Monterey. The substance of the intelligence received by
the courier was, that a large force of Californians (varying, according
to different reports, from five to fifteen hundred strong) had met the
marines and sailors, four hundred strong, under the command of Captain
Mervine, of the U.S. frigate Savannah, who had landed at San Pedro for
the purpose of marching to Los Angeles, and had driven Captain Mervine
and his force back to the ship, with the loss, in killed, of six men.
That the towns of Angeles and Santa Barbara had been taken by the
insurgents, and the American garrisons there had either been captured
or had made their escape by retreating. What had become of them was
unknown.[2] Colonel Fremont, who I before mentioned had sailed with a
party of one hundred and eighty volunteers from San Francisco to San
Pedro, or San Diego, for the purpose of co-operating with Commodore
Stockton, after having been some time at sea, had put into Monterey and
landed his men, and his purpose now was to increase his force and mount
them, and to proceed by land for Los Angeles.
[2] The garrison under Captain Gillespie, at Los Angeles, capitulated.
The garrison at Santa Barbara, under Lieutenant Talbot, marched
out in defiance of the enemy, and after suffering many hardships
arrived in safety at Monterey.
On the receipt of this intelligence, I immediately drew up a paper,
which was signed by myself, Messrs Reed, Jacob, Lippincott, and
Grayson, offering our services as volunteers, and our exertions to
raise a force of emigrants and Indians which would be a sufficient
reinforcement to Colonel Fremont. This paper was addressed to Mr. Kern,
the commandant of Fort Sacramento, and required his sanction. The next
morning (29th) he accepted of our proposal, and the labour of raising
the volunteers and of procuring the necessary clothing and supplies for
them and the Indians was apportioned.
It commenced raining on the night of the twenty-eighth, and the rain
fell heavily and steadily until twelve o'clock, P.M., on the
twenty-ninth. This is the first fall of rain since March last. About
one o'clock, P.M., the clouds cleared away and the weather and
temperature were delightful.
About twelve o'clock, on the 30th, accompanied by Mr. Grayson, I left
New Helvetia. We crossed the Sacramento at the _embarcadero_, swimming
our horses, and passing ourselves over in a small canoe. The method of
swimming horses over so broad a stream as the Sacramento is as follows.
A light canoe or "dug-out" is manned by three persons, one at the bow
one at the stern and one in the centre; those at the bow and stern have
paddles, and propel and steer the craft. The man in the centre holds
the horses one on each side, keeping their heads out of water. When the
horses are first forced into the deep water, they struggle
prodigiously, and sometimes upset the canoe; but, when the canoe gets
fairly under way, they cease their resistance, but snort loudly at
every breath to clear their mouths and nostrils of the water.
Proceeding ten miles over a level plain, we overtook a company of
emigrants bound for Nappa valley, and encamped with them for the night
on Puta creek, a tributary of the Sacramento. Five of the seven or
eight men belonging to the company enrolled their names as volunteers.
The grass on the western side of the Sacramento is very rank and of an
excellent quality.
It commenced raining about two o'clock on the morning of the 31st, and
continued to rain and mist all day. We crossed from Puta to Cache
creek, reaching the residence of Mr. Gordon (25 miles) about three
o'clock P.M. Here we enrolled several additional emigrants in our list
of volunteers, and then travelled fifteen miles up the creek to a small
log-house, occupied temporarily by some of the younger members of the
family of Mr. Gordon, who emigrated from Jackson county, Mo., this
year, and by Mrs. Grayson. Here we remained during the night, glad to
find a shelter and a fire, for we were drenched to our skins.
On the morning of the 1st of November the sun shone out warm and
pleasant. The birds were singing, chattering, and flitting from tree to
tree, through the romantic and picturesque valley where we had slept
during the night. The scenery and its adjuncts were so charming and
enticing that I recommenced my travels with reluctance. No scenery can
be more beautiful than that of the small valleys of California.
Ascending the range of elevated mountains which border the Cache creek,
we had a most extensive view of the broad plain of the Sacramento,
stretching with islands and bells of limber far away to the south as
the eye could penetrate. The gorges and summits of these mountains are
timbered with largo pines, firs, and cedars, with a smaller growth of
magnolias, manzanitas, hawthorns, etc., etc. Travelling several miles
over a level plateau, we descended into a beautiful valley, richly
carpeted with grass and timbered with evergreen oak. Proceeding across
this three or four miles, we rose another range of mountains, and,
travelling a league along the summit ridge, we descended through a
crevice in a sleep rocky precipice, just sufficient in breadth to admit
the passage of our animals. Our horses were frequently compelled to
slide or leap down nearly perpendicular rocks or stairs, until we
finally, just after sunset, reached the bottom of the mountain, and
found ourselves in another level and most fertile and picturesque
valley.
We knew that in this valley, of considerable extent, there was a house
known as "Barnett's," where we expected to find quarters for the night.
There were numerous trails of cattle, horses, deer, and other wild
animals, crossing each other in every direction through the live
oak-timber. We followed on the largest of the cattle trails until it
became so blind that we could not see it. Taking another, we did the
same, and the result was the same; another and another with no better
success. We then shouted so loud that our voices were echoed and
re-echoed by the surrounding mountains, hoping, if there were any
inhabitants in the valley, that they would respond to us. There was no
response--all was silent when the sound of our voices died away in the
gorges and ravines; and at ten o'clock at night we encamped under the
wide-spreading branches of an oak, having travelled about 40 miles.
Striking a fire and heaping upon it a large quantity of wood, which
blazed brightly, displaying the Gothic shapes of the surrounding oaks,
we picketed our animals, spread our blankets, and slept soundly.
It rained several hours during the night, and in the morning a dense
fog filled the valley. Saddling our animals, we searched along the foot
of the next range of mountains for a trail, but could find none.
Returning to our camp, we proceeded up the valley, and struck a trail,
by following which two miles, we came to the house (Barnett's). The
door was ajar, and entering the dwelling we found it tenantless. The
hearth was cold, and the ashes in the jambs of the large fire-place
were baked. In the corners of the building there were some frames, upon
which beds had been once spread. The house evidently had been abandoned
by its former occupants for some time. The prolific mothers of several
families of the swinish species, with their squealing progenies,
gathered around us, in full expectation, doubtless, of the dispensation
of an extra ration, which we had not to give. Having eaten nothing but
a crust of bread for 24 hours, the inclination of our appetites was
strong to draw upon them for a ration; but for old acquaintance' sake,
and because they were the foreshadowing of the "manifest destiny," they
were permitted to pass without molestation. There were two or three
small inclosures near the house, where corn and wheat had been planted
and harvested this year; but none of the product of the harvest could
be found in the empty house, or on the place. Dismounting from our
horses at a limpid spring-branch near the house, we slaked our thirst,
and made our hydropathical breakfast from its cool and delicious water.
Although the trail of the valley did not run in our course, still,
under the expectation that it would soon take another direction, we
followed it, passing over a fertile soil, sufficiently timbered and
watered by several small streams. The quantity of arable land in
California, I believe, is much greater than has generally been supposed
from the accounts of the country given by travellers who have visited
only the parts on the Pacific, and some few of the missions. Most of
the mountain valleys between the Sierra Nevada and the coast are
exuberantly fertile, and finely watered, and will produce crops of all
kinds, while the hills are covered with oats and grass of the most
nutritious qualities, for the sustenance of cattle, horses, and hogs.
The acorns which fall from the oaks are, of themselves, a rich annual
product for the fattening of hogs; and during the period of transition
(four or five weeks after the rains commence falling) from the dry
grass to the fresh growth, horses, mules, and even horned cattle mostly
subsist and fatten upon these large and oleaginous nuts.
We left the valley in a warm and genial sunshine, about 11 o'clock, and
commenced ascending another high mountain, timbered as those I have
previously described. When we reached the summit, we were enveloped in
clouds, and the rain was falling copiously, and a wintry blast drove
the cold element to our skins. Crossing this mountain three or four
miles, we descended its sleep sides, and entered another beautiful and
romantic hollow, divided as it were into various apartments by short
ranges of low conical hills, covered to their summits with grass and
wild oats. The grass and other vegetation on the level bottom are very
rank, indicating a soil of the most prolific qualities. In winding
through this valley, we met four Indians on foot, armed with long bows,
and arrows of corresponding weight and length, weapons that I have not
previously seen among the Indians. Their complexions were lighter than
those of the _rancheria_ Indians of California. They evidently belonged
to some more northern tribe. We stopped them to make inquiries, but
they seemed to know nothing of the country, nor could we learn from
them from whence they came or where they were going. They were clothed
in dressed skins, and two of them were highly rouged.
Ascending and descending gradually over some low hills, we entered
another circular valley, through which flows a stream, the waters of
which, judging from its channel, at certain seasons are broad and deep.
The ground, from the rains that have recently fallen and are now
falling, is very soft, and we had difficulty in urging our tired
animals across this valley. We soon discovered fresh cattle signs, and
afterwards a large herd grazing near the stream. Farther on, we saw
five old and miserably emaciated Indian women, gathering grass-seed for
bread. This process is performed with two baskets, one shaped like a
round shield, and the other having a basin and handle. With the shield
the lop of the grass is brushed, and the seed by the motion is thrown
into the deep basket held in the other hand. The five women appeared at
a distance like so many mowers cutting down the grass of a meadow.
These women could give us no satisfaction in response to inquiries, but
pointed over the river indicating that we should there find the _casa_
and _rancheria_. They then continued their work with as much zeal and
industry as if their lives were dependent upon the proceeds of their
labour, and I suppose they were.
Crossing the river, we struck a trail which led us to the _casa_ and
_rancheria_, about two miles distant. The _casa_ was a small adobe
building, about twelve feet square, and was locked up. Finding that
admission was not to be gained here, we hailed at the _rancheria_, and
presently some dozen squalid and naked men, women, and children, made
their appearance. We inquired for the _mayor domo_, or overseer. The
chief speaker signified that he was absent, and that he did not expect
hint to return until several suns rose and set. We then signified we
were hungry, and very soon a loaf made of pulverized acorns, mingled
with wild fruit of some kind, was brought to us with a basket of water.
These Indians manufacture small baskets which are impervious to water,
and they are used as basins to drink from, and for other purposes.
I knew that we had been travelling out of our course all day, and it
was now three o'clock, P.M. Rain and mist had succeeded each other, and
the sun was hidden from us by dark and threatening masses of clouds. We
had no compass with us, and could not determine the course to Nappa
Valley or Sonoma. Believing that the Indian would have some knowledge
of the latter place, we made him comprehend that we wished to go there,
and inquired the route. He pointed in a direction which he signified
would take us to Sonoma. We pointed in another course, which it seemed
to us was the right one. But he persisted in asserting that he was
right. After some further talk, for the shirt on my back he promised to
guide us, and, placing a ragged skin on one of our horses, he mounted
the animal and led the way over the next range of hills. The rain soon
poured down so hard upon the poor fellow's bare skin, that he begged
permission to return, to which we would not consent; but, out of
compassion to him, I took off my over-coat, with which he covered his
swarthy hide, and seemed highly delighted with the shelter from the
pitiless storm it afforded him, or with the supposition that I intended
to present it to him.
Crossing several elevated and rocky hills, just before sunset, we had a
view of a large timbered valley and a sheet of water, the extent of
which we could not compass with the eye, on account of the thickness of
the atmosphere. When we came in sight of the water, the Indian uttered
various exclamations of pleasure; and, although I had felt but little
faith in him as a pilot from the first, I began now to think that we
were approaching the Bay of San Francisco. Descending into the valley,
we travelled along a small stream two or three miles, and were
continuing on in the twilight, when we heard the tinkling of a cow-bell
on the opposite side of the stream. Certain, from this sound, that
there must be an encampment near, I halted and hallooed at the top of
my voice. The halloo called forth a similar response, with an
interrogation in English, "Who the d----l are you--Spaniards or
Americans?" "Americans." "Show yourselves, then, d----n you, and let us
see the colour of your hide," was the answer.
"Tell us where we can cross the stream, and you shall soon see us," was
our reply.
"Ride back and follow the sound of my voice, and be d----d to you, and
you can cross the stream with a deer's jump."
Accordingly, following the sound of the voice of this rough colloquist,
who shouted repeatedly, we rode back in the dark several hundred yards,
and, plunging into the stream, the channel of which was deep, we gained
the other side, where we found three men standing ready to receive us.
We soon discovered them to be a party of professional hunters, or
trappers, at the head of which was Mr. Greenwood, a famed mountaineer,
commonly known as "Old Greenwood." They invited us to their camp,
situated across a small opening in the timber about half a mile
distant. Having unsaddled our tired animals and turned them loose to
graze for the night, we placed our baggage under the cover of a small
tent, and, taking our seats by the huge camp fire, made known as far as
was expedient our business. We soon ascertained that we had ridden the
entire day (about 40 miles) directly out of our course to Nappa Valley
and Sonoma, and that the Indian's information was all wrong. We were
now near the shore of a large lake, called the _Laguna_ by
Californians, some fifty or sixty miles in length, which lake is
situated about sixty or seventy miles north of the Bay of San
Francisco; consequently, to-morrow we shall be compelled to retrace our
steps and find the trail that leads from Harriett's house to Nappa,
which escaped us this morning. We received such directions, however,
from Mr. Greenwood, that we could not fail to find it.
We found in the camp, much to our gratification after a long fast, an
abundance of fat grisly bear-meat and the most delicious and tender
deer-meat. The camp looked like a butcher's stall. The pot filled with
bear-flesh was boiled again and again, and the choice pieces of the
tender venison were roasting, and disappearing with singular rapidity
for a long time. Bread there was none of course. Such a delicacy is
unknown to the mountain trappers, nor is it much desired by them.
The hunting party consisted of Mr. Greenwood, Mr. Turner, Mr. Adams,
and three sons of Mr. G., one grown, and the other two boys 10 or 12
years of age, half-bred Indians, the mother being a Crow. One of these
boys is named "Governor Boggs," after ex-governor Boggs of Missouri, an
old friend of the father. Mr. Greenwood, or "Old Greenwood," as he is
familiarly called, according to his own statement, is 83 years of age,
and has been a mountain trapper between 40 and 50 years. He lived among
the Crow Indians, where he married his wife, between thirty and forty
years. He is about six feet in height, raw-boned and spare in flesh,
but muscular, and, notwithstanding his old age, walks with all the
erectness and elasticity of youth. His dress was of tanned buckskin,
and from its appearance one would suppose its antiquity to be nearly
equal to the age of its wearer. It had probably never been off his body
since he first put it on. "I am," said he, "an old man--eighty-three
years--it is a long time to live;--eighty-three years last--. I have
seen all the Injun varmints of the Rocky Mountains,--have fout
them--lived with them. I have many children--I don't know how many,
they are scattered; but my wife was a Crow. The Crows are a brave
nation,--the bravest of all the Injuns; they fight like the white man;
they don't kill you in the dark like the Black-foot varmint, and then
take your scalp and run, the cowardly reptiles. Eighty-three years
last----; and yet old Greenwood could handle the rifle as well as the
best on 'em, but for this infernal humour in my eyes, caught three
years ago in bringing the emigrators over the _de_-sart." (A circle of
scarlet surrounded his weeping eyeballs.) "I can't see jist now as well
as I did fifty years ago, but I can always bring the game or the
slinking and skulking Injun. I have jist come over the mountains from
Sweetwater with the emigrators as pilot, living upon bacon, bread,
milk, and sich like mushy stuff. It don't agree with me; it never will
agree with a man of my age, eighty-three last ----; that is a long time
to live. I thought I would take a small hunt to get a little exercise
for my old bones, and some good fresh meat. The grisly bear, fat deer,
and poultry and fish--them are such things as a man should eat. I came
up here, where I knew there was plenty. I was here twenty years ago,
before any white man see this lake and the rich land about it. It's
filled with big fish. That's beer-springs here, better than them in the
Rocky Mountains; thar's a mountain of solid brimstone, and thar's mines
of gold and silver, all of which I know'd many years ago, and I can
show them to you if you will go with me in the morning. These
black-skinned Spaniards have rebelled again. Wall, they can make a
fuss, d--m 'em, and have revolutions every year, but they can't fight.
It's no use to go after 'em, unless when you ketch 'em you kill 'em.
They won't stand an' fight like men, an' when they can't fight longer
give up; but the skared varmints run away and then make another fuss,
d--m 'em." Such was the discourse of our host.
The camp consisted of two small tents, which had probably been obtained
from the emigrants. They were pitched so as to face each other, and
between them there was a large pile of blazing logs. On the trees
surrounding the camp were stretched the skins of various animals which
had been killed in the hunt; some preserved for their hides, others for
the fur. Bear-meat and venison enough for a winter's supply were
hanging from the limbs. The swearing of Turner, a man of immense frame
and muscular power, during our evening's conversation, was almost
terrific. I had heard mountain swearing before, but his went far beyond
all former examples. He could do all the swearing for our army in
Mexico, and then have a surplus.
The next morning (Nov. 3rd), after partaking of a hearty breakfast, and
suspending from our saddles a sufficient supply of venison and
bear-meat for two days' journey, we started back on our own trail. We
left our miserable Indian pilot at his _rancheria_. I gave him the
shirt from my back, out of compassion for his sufferings--he well
deserved a _dressing_ of another kind. It rained all day, and, when we
reached Barnett's (the empty house) after four o'clock, P.M., the black
masses of clouds which hung over the valley portended a storm so
furious, that we thought it prudent to take shelter under a roof for
the night. Securing our animals in one of the inclosures, we encamped
in the deserted dwelling. The storm soon commenced, and raged and
roared with a fierceness and strength rarely witnessed. The hogs and
pigs came squealing about the door for admission; and the cattle and
horses in the valley, terrified by the violence of elemental battle,
ran backwards and forwards, bellowing and snorting. In comfortable
quarters, we roasted and enjoyed our bear-meat and venison, and left
the wind, rain, lightning, and thunder to play their pranks as best
suited them, which they did all night.
On the morning of the fourth, we found the trail described to us by Mr.
Greenwood, and, crossing a ridge of mountains, descended into the
valley of Nappa creek, which empties into the Bay of San Francisco just
below the Straits of Carquinez. This is a most beautiful and fertile
valley, and is already occupied by several American settlers. Among the
first who established themselves here is Mr. Yount, who soon after
erected a flouring-mill and saw-mill. These have been in operation
several years. Before reaching Mr. Yount's settlement we passed a
saw-mill more recently erected, by Dr. Bale. There seems to be an
abundance of pine and red-wood (a species of fir), in the _canadas_. No
lumber can be superior for building purposes than that sawed from the
red-wood. The trees are of immense size, straight, free from knots and
twists, and the wood is soft, and easily cut with plane and saw.
Arriving at the residence of Dr. Bale, in Nappa Valley, we were
hospitably entertained by him with a late breakfast of coffee, boiled
eggs, steaks, and _tortillas_, served up in American style. Leaving
Nappa, after travelling down it some ten or twelve miles, we crossed
another range of hills or mountains, and reached Sonoma after dark, our
clothing thoroughly drenched with the rain, which, with intermissions,
had fallen the whole day. I put up at the same quarters as when here
before. The house was covered with a dilapidated thatch, and the rain
dripped through it, not leaving a dry spot on the floor of the room
where we slept. But there was an advantage in this--the inundation of
water had completely discomfited the army of fleas that infested the
building when we were here before.
It rained incessantly on the fifth. Col. Russell arrived at Sonoma
early in the morning, having arrived from San Francisco last night.
Procuring a boat belonging to Messrs. Howard and Mellus, lying at the
_embarcadero_, I left for San Francisco, but, owing to the storm and
contrary winds, did not arrive there until the morning of the seventh,
being two nights and a day in the creek, and _churning_ on the bay.
Purchasing a quantity of clothing, and other supplies for volunteers, I
sailed early on the morning of the eighth for New Helvetia, in a boat
belonging to the sloop-of-war Portsmouth, manned by U.S. sailors, under
the command of Midshipman Byres, a native of Maysville, Ky. We encamped
that night at the head of "Soeson," having sailed about fifty miles in
a severe storm of wind and rain. The waves frequently dashed entirely
over our little craft. The rain continued during the ninth, and we
encamped at night about the mouth of the Sacramento. On the night of
the tenth we encamped at "Meritt's camp," the rain still falling, and
the river rising rapidly, rendering navigation up-stream impossible,
except with the aid of the tide. On the night of the eleventh we
encamped fifteen miles below New Helvetia, still raining. On the
morning of the twelfth the clouds cleared away, and the sun burst out
warm and spring-like. After having been exposed to the rain for ten or
twelve days, without having the clothing upon me once dry, the sight of
the sun, and the influence of his beams, were cheering and most
agreeable. We arrived at New Helvetia about twelve o'clock.
CHAPTER VIII.
Leave New Helvetia
Pleasant weather
Meet Indian volunteers
Tule boats
Engagement between a party of Americans and Californians
Death of Capt. Burroughs and Capt. Foster
Capture of Thomas O. Larkin
Reconnaissance
San Juan Bautista
Neglect of the dead
Large herds of Cattle
Join Col. Fremont.
On my arrival at New Helvetia, I found there Mr. Jacob. Mr. Reed had
not yet returned from the mountains. Nothing had been heard from Mr.
Lippincott, or Mr. Grayson, since I left the latter at Sonoma. An
authorized agent of Col. Fremont had arrived at the fort the day that I
left it, with power to take the _caballada_ of public horses, and to
enroll volunteers for the expedition to the south. He had left two or
three days before my arrival, taking with him all the horses and
trappings suitable for service, and all the men who had previously
_rendezvoused_ at the fort, numbering about sixty, as I understood. At
my request messengers were sent by Mr. Kern, commandant of the fort,
and by Captain Sutter, to the Indian chiefs on the San Joaquin River
and its tributaries, to meet me at the most convenient points on the
trail, with such warriors of their tribes as chose to volunteer as
soldiers of the United States, and perform military service during the
campaign. I believed that they would be useful as scouts and spies. On
the 14th and 15th eight men (emigrants who had just arrived in the
country, and had been enrolled at Johnson's settlement by Messrs. Reed
and Jacob) arrived at the fort; and on the morning of the 16th, with
these, we started to join Colonel Fremont, supposed to be at Monterey;
and we encamped at night on the Cosçumne River.
The weather is now pleasant. We are occasionally drenched with a shower
of rain, after which the sun shines warm and bright; the fresh grass is
springing up, and the birds sing and chatter in the groves and thickets
as we pass through them. I rode forward, on the morning of the 17th, to
the Mickelemes River (twenty-five miles from the Cosçumne), where I met
Antonio, an Indian chief, with twelve warriors, who had assembled hero
for the purpose of joining us. The names of the warriors were as
follows;--Santiago, Masua, Kiubu, Tocoso, Nonelo, Michael, Weala,
Arkell, Nicolas, Heel, Kasheano, Estephen. Our party coming up in the
afternoon, we encamped here for the day, in order to give the Indians
time to make further preparations for the march. On the 18th we met, at
the ford of the San Joaquin River, another party of eighteen Indians,
including their chiefs. Their names were--José Jesus, Filipe,
Ray-mundo, and Carlos, chiefs; Huligario, Bonefasio, Francisco,
Nicolas, Pablo, Feliciano, San Antonio, Polinario, Manuel, Graviano,
Salinordio, Romero, and Merikeeldo, warriors. The chiefs and some of
the warriors of these parties were partially clothed, but most of them
were naked, except a small garment around the loins. They were armed
with bows and arrows. We encamped with our sable companions on the east
bank of the San Joaquin.
The next morning (Nov. 19), the river being too high to ford, we
constructed, by the aid of the Indians, tule-boats, upon which our
baggage was ferried over the stream. The tule-boat consists of bundles
of tule firmly hound together with willow withes. When completed, in
shape it is not unlike a small keel-boat. The buoyancy of one of these
craft is surprising. Six men, as many as could sit upon the deck, were
passed over, in the largest of our three boats, at a time. The boats
were towed backwards and forwards by Indian swimmers--one at the bow,
and one at the stern as steersman, and two on each side as propellers.
The poor fellows, when they came out of the cold water, trembled as if
attacked with an ague. We encamped near the house of Mr. Livermore
(previously described), where, after considerable difficulty, I
obtained sufficient beef for supper, Mr. L. being absent. Most of the
Indians did not get into camp until a late hour of the night, and some
of them not until morning. They complained very much of sore feet, and
wanted horses to ride, which I promised them as soon as they reached
the Pueblo de San José.
About ten o'clock on the morning of the 20th, we slaughtered a beef in
the hills between Mr. Livermore's and the mission of San José; and,
leaving the hungry party to regale themselves upon it and then follow
on, I proceeded immediately to the Pueblo de San José to make further
arrangements, reaching that place just after sunset. On the 21st I
procured clothing for the Indians, which, when they arrived with Mr.
Jacob in the afternoon, was distributed among them.
On my arrival at the Pueblo, I found the American population there much
excited by intelligence just received of the capture on the 15th,
between Monterey and the mission of San Juan, of Thos. O. Larkin, Esq.,
late U.S. Consul in California, by a party of Californians, and of an
engagement between the same Californians and a party of Americans
escorting a _caballada_ of 400 horses to Colonel Fremont's camp in
Monterey. In this affair three Americans were killed, viz.: Capt.
Burroughs, Capt. Foster, and Mr. Eames, late of St. Louis, Mo. The
mission of San Juan lies on the road between the Pueblo de San José and
Monterey, about fifty miles from the former place, and thirty from the
latter. The skirmish took place ten miles south of San Juan, near the
Monterey road. I extract the following account of this affair from a
journal of his captivity published by Mr. Larkin:--
"On the 10th of November, from information received of the sickness of
my family in San Francisco, where they had gone to escape the expected
revolutionary troubles in Monterey, and from letters from Captain
Montgomery requesting my presence respecting some stores for the
Portsmouth, I, with one servant, left Monterey for San Francisco,
knowing that for one month no Californian forces had been within 100
miles of us. That night I put up at the house of Don Joaquin Gomez,
sending my servant to San Juan, six miles beyond, to request Mr. J.
Thompson to wait for me, as he was on the road for San Francisco. About
midnight I was aroused from my bed by the noise made by ten
Californians (unshaved and unwashed for months, being in the mountains)
rushing into my chamber with guns, swords, pistols, and torches in
their hands. I needed but a moment to be fully awake and know my exact
situation; the first cry was, 'Como estamos, Senor Consul.' 'Vamos,
Senor Larkin.' At my bedside were several letters that I had re-read
before going to bed. On dressing myself, while my captors were saddling
my horse, I assorted these letters, and put them into different
pockets. After taking my own time to dress and arrange my valise, we
started, and rode to a camp of seventy or eighty men on the banks of
the Monterey River; there each officer and principal person passed the
time of night with me, and a remark or two. The commandante took me on
one side, and informed me that his people demanded that I should write
to San Juan, to the American captain of volunteers, saying that I had
left Monterey to visit the distressed families of the river, and
request or demand that twenty men should meet me before daylight, that
I could station them, before my return to town, in a manner to protect
these families. The natives, he said, were determined on the act being
accomplished. I at first endeavoured to reason with him on the infamy
and the impossibility of the deed, but to no avail; he said my life
depended on the letter; that he was willing, nay, anxious to preserve
my life as an old acquaintance, but could not control his people in
this affair. From argument I came to a refusal; he advised, urged, and
demanded. At this period an officer called out * * * * (Come here,
those who are named.) I then said, 'In this manner you may act and
threaten night by night; my life on such condition is of no value or
pleasure to me. I am by accident your prisoner--make the most of
me--write, I will not; shoot as you see fit, and I am done talking on
the subject.' I left him, and went to the camp fire. For a half-hour or
more there was some commotion around me, when all disturbance subsided.
"At daylight we started, with a flag flying and a drum beating, and
travelled eight or ten miles, when we camped in a low valley or hollow.
There they caught with the lasso three or four head of cattle belonging
to the nearest rancho, and breakfasted. The whole day their outriders
rode in every direction, on the look-out, to see if the American
company left the mission of San Juan, or Lieutenant-Colonel Fremont
left Monterey; they also rode to all the neighbouring ranches, and
forced the rancheros to join them. At one o'clock, they began their
march with one hundred and thirty men (and two or three hundred extra
horses); they marched in four single files, occupying four positions,
myself under charge of an officer and five or six men in the centre.
Their plan of operation for the night was, to rush into San Juan ten or
fifteen men, who were to retreat, under the expectation that the
Americans would follow them, in which case the whole party outside was
to cut them off. I was to be retained in the centre of the party. Ten
miles south of the mission, they encountered eight or ten Americans, a
part of whom retreated into a low ground covered with oaks, the others
returned to the house of Senor Gomez, to alarm their companions. For
over one hour the hundred and thirty Californians surrounded the six or
eight Americans, occasionally giving and receiving shots. During this
period, I was several times requested, then commanded, to go among the
oaks and bring out my countrymen, and offer them their lives on giving
up their rifles and persons. I at last offered to go and call them out,
on condition that they should return to San Juan or go to Monterey,
with their arms; this being refused, I told the commandante to go in
and bring them out himself. While they were consulting how this could
be done, fifty Americans came down on them, which caused an action of
about twenty or thirty minutes. Thirty or forty of the natives leaving
the field at the first fire, they remained drawn off by fives and tens
until the Americans had the field to themselves. Both parties remained
within a mile of each other until dark. Our countrymen lost Captain
Burroughs of St. Louis, Missouri, Captain Foster, and two others, with
two or three wounded. The Californians lost two of their countrymen,
and José Garcia, of Val., Chili, with seven wounded."
The following additional particulars I extract from the "Californian"
newspaper of November 21, 1846, published at Monterey: "Burroughs and
Foster were killed at the first onset. The Americans fired, and then
charged on the enemy with their empty rifles, and ran them off.
However, they still kept rallying, and firing now and then a musket at
the Americans until about eleven o'clock at night, when one of the
Walla-Walla Indians offered his services to come into Monterey and give
Colonel Fremont notice of what was passing. Soon after he started he
was pursued by a party of the enemy. The foremost in pursuit drove a
lance at the Indian, who, trying to parry it, received the lance
through his hand; he immediately, with his other hand, seized his
tomahawk, and struck his opponent, splitting his head from the crown to
the mouth. By this time the others had come up, and, with the most
extraordinary dexterity and bravery, the Indian vanquished two more,
and the rest ran away. He rode on towards this town as far as his horse
was able to carry him, and then left his horse and saddle, and came in
on foot. He arrived here about eight o'clock on Tuesday morning,
December 17th."
The Americans engaged in this affair were principally the volunteer
emigrants just arrived in the country, and who had left New Helvetia a
few days in advance of me.
Colonel Fremont marched from Monterey as soon as he heard of this
skirmish, in pursuit of the Californians, but did not meet with them.
He then encamped at the mission of San Juan, waiting there the arrival
of the remaining volunteers from above.
Leaving the Pueblo on the afternoon of the 25th, in conjunction with a
small force commanded by Captain Weber, we made an excursion into the
hills, near a rancho owned by Captain W., where were herded some two or
three hundred public horses. It had been rumoured that a party of
Californians were hovering about here, intending to capture and drive
off these horses. The next day (November 26th), without having met any
hostile force, driving these horses before us, we encamped at Mr.
Murphy's rancho. Mr. Murphy is the father of a large and respectable
family, who emigrated to this country some three or four years since
from, the United States, being originally from Canada. His daughter,
Miss Helen, who did the honours of the rude cabin, in manners,
conversation, and personal charms, would grace any drawing-room. On the
28th, we proceeded down the Pueblo valley, passing Gilroy's rancho, and
reaching the mission of San Juan just before dark. The hills and
valleys are becoming verdant with fresh grass and wild oats, the latter
being, in places, two or three inches high. So tender is it, however,
that it affords but little nourishment to our horses.
The mission of San Juan Bautista has been one of the most extensive of
these establishments. The principal buildings are more durably
constructed than those of other missions I have visited, and they are
in better condition. Square bricks are used in paving the corridors and
the ground floors. During the twilight, I strayed accidentally through
a half-opened gate into a cemetery, inclosed by a high wall in the rear
of the church. The spectacle was ghastly enough. The exhumed skeletons
of those who had been deposited here lay thickly strewn around, showing
but little respect for the sanctity of the grave, or the rights of the
dead from the living. The cool damp night-breeze sighed and moaned
through the shrubbery and ruinous arches and corridors, planted and
reared by those whose neglected bones were now exposed to the rude
insults of man and beast. I could not but imagine that the voices of
complaining spirits mingled with these dismal and mournful tones; and
plucking a cluster of roses, the fragrance of which was delicious, I
left the spot, to drive away the sadness and melancholy produced by the
scene.
The valley contiguous to the mission is extensive, well watered by a
large _arroyo_, and highly fertile. The gardens and other lands for
tillage are inclosed by willow hedges. Elevated hills, or mountains,
bound this valley on the east and west. Large herds of cattle were
scattered over the valley, greedily cropping the fresh green herbage,
which now carpets mountain and plain.
Colonel Fremont marched from San Juan this morning, and encamped, as we
learned on our arrival, ten miles south. Proceeding up the _arroyo_ on
the 29th, we reached the camp of Colonel F. about noon. I immediately
reported, and delivered over to him the men and horses under my charge.
The men were afterwards organized into a separate corps, of which Mr.
R.T. Jacob, my travelling companion, was appointed the captain by
Colonel Fremont.
CHAPTER IX.
California battalion
Their appearance and costume
List of the officers
Commence our march to Los Angeles
Appearance of the country in the vicinity of San Juan
Slaughter of beeves
Astonishing consumption of beef by the men
Beautiful morning
Ice
Salinas river and valley
Californian prisoners
Horses giving out from fatigue
Mission of San Miguel
Sheep
Mutton
March on foot
More prisoners taken
Death of Mr. Stanley
An execution
Dark night
Capture of the mission of San Luis Obispo
Orderly conduct and good deportment of the California battalion.
_November 30_.--The battalion of mounted riflemen, under the command of
Lieutenant-Colonel Fremont, numbers, rank and file, including Indians,
and servants, 428. With the exception of the exploring party, which
left the United States with Colonel F., they are composed of volunteers
from the American settlers, and the emigrants who have arrived in the
country within a few weeks. The latter have generally furnished their
own ammunition and other equipments for the expedition. Most of these
are practised riflemen, men of undoubted courage, and capable of
bearing any fatigue and privations endurable by veteran troops. The
Indians are composed of a party of Walla-Wallas from Oregon, and a
party of native Californians. Attached to the battalion are two pieces
of artillery, under the command of Lieutenant McLane, of the navy. In
the appearance of our small army there is presented but little of "the
pomp and circumstance of glorious war." There are no plumes nodding
over brazen helmets, nor coats of broadcloth spangled with lace and
buttons. A broad-brimmed low-crowned hat, a shirt of blue flannel, or
buckskin, with pantaloons and mocassins of the same, all generally much
the worse for wear, and smeared with mud and dust, make up the costume
of the party, officers as well as men. A leathern girdle surrounds the
waist, from which are suspended a bowie and a hunter's knife, and
sometimes a brace of pistols. These, with the rifle and
holster-pistols, are the arms carried by officers and privates. A
single bugle (and a sorry one it is) composes the band. Many an embryo
Napoleon, in his own conceit, whose martial spirit has been excited to
flaming intensity of heat by the peacock-plumage and gaudy trappings of
our militia companies, when marching through the streets to the sound
of drum, fife, and brass band, if he could have looked upon us, and
then consulted the state of the military thermometer within him, would
probably have discovered that the mercury of his heroism had fallen
several degrees below zero. He might even have desired that we should
not come
"Between the wind and his nobility."
War, stripped of its pageantry, possesses but few of the attractions
with which poetry and painting have embellished it. The following is a
list of the officers composing the California Battalion:--Lieut.-colonel
J.G. Fremont, commanding; A.H. Gillespie, major; P.B. Reading,
paymaster; H. King, commissary; J.R. Snyder, quartermaster, since
appointed a land-surveyor by Colonel Mason; Wm. H. Russell, ordnance
officer; T. Talbot, lieutenant and adjutant; J.J. Myers, sergeant-major,
appointed lieutenant in January, 1847.
_Company A_.--Richard Owens, captain; Wm. N. Loker, 1st lieutenant,
appointed adjutant, Feb. 10th, 1847; B.M. Hudspeth, 2d lieutenant,
appointed captain, Feb. 1847, Wm. Findlay, 2d lieutenant, appointed
captain, Feb. 1847.
_Company B_.--Henry Ford, captain; Andrew Copeland, 1st lieutenant.
_Company C_.--Granville P. Swift, captain; Wm. Baldridge, 1st
lieutenant; Wm. Hartgrove, 2d do.
_Company D_.--John Sears, captain; Wm. Bradshaw, 1st lieutenant.
_Company E_.--John Grigsby, captain; Archibald Jesse, 1st lieutenant.
_Company F_.--L.W. Hastings, captain (author of a work on California);
Wornbough, 1st lieutenant; J.M. Hudspeth, 2d do.
_Company G_.--Thompson, captain; Davis 1st lieutenant; Rock, 2d do.
_Company H_.--R.T. Jacobs, captain; Edwin Bryant, 1st lieutenant
(afterwards alcalde at San Francisco); Geo. M. Lippincott, 2d do., of
New York.
_Artillery Company_.--Louis McLane, captain (afterwards major); John.
K. Wilson, 1st lieutenant, appointed captain in January, 1847; Wm.
Blackburn, 2d do. (now alcalde of Santa Cruz).
_Officers on detached Service and doing Duty at the South_.--S. Hensley,
captain; S. Gibson, do. (lanced through the body at San Pascual);
Miguel Pedrorena, do., Spaniard (appointed by Stockton); Stgo.
Arguello, do., Californian (appointed by do.); Bell, do. (appointed
by do.), old resident of California (Los Angeles); H. Rhenshaw, 1st
lieutenant, (appointed by do.); A. Godey, do. (appointed by do.); Jas.
Barton, do. (appointed by do.); L. Arguello, do., Californian
(appointed by do.).
After a march of six or eight hours, up the valley of the _arroyo_,
through a heavy rain, and mud so deep that several of our horses gave
out from exhaustion, we encamped in a circular bottom, near a deserted
adobe house. A _caballada_, of some 500 or 600 loose horses and mules
is driven along with us, but many of them are miserable sore-backed
skeletons, having been exhausted with hard usage and bad fare during
the summer campaign. Besides these, we have a large number of
pack-mules, upon which all our baggage and provisions are transported.
Distance 10 miles.
We did not move on the 1st and 2d of December. There being no cattle in
the vicinity of our camp, a party was sent back to the mission, on the
morning of the 1st, who in the afternoon returned, driving before them
about 100 head, most of them in good condition. After a sufficient
number were slaughtered to supply the camp with meat for the day, the
remainder were confined in a _corral_ prepared for the purpose, to be
driven along with us, and slaughtered from day to day. The rain has
continued, with short intermissions, since we commenced our march on
the 30th of November. The ground has become saturated with water, and
the small branches are swollen into large streams. Notwithstanding
these discomforts, the men are in good spirits, and enjoy themselves in
singing, telling stories, and playing _monte_.
_December 3_.--The rain ceased falling about 8 o'clock this morning;
and, the clouds breaking away, the sun cheered us once more with his
pleasant beams. The battalion was formed into a hollow square, and, the
order of the day being read, we resumed our march. Our progress,
through the deep mud, was very slow. The horses were constantly giving
out, and many were left behind. The young and tender grass upon which
they feed affords but little nourishment, and hard labour soon exhausts
them. We encamped on a low bluff, near the _arroyo_, timbered with
evergreen oak. Distance 8 miles.
_December 4_.--I was ordered with a small party in advance this
morning. Proceeding up the valley a few miles, we left it, crossing
several steep hills sparsely timbered with oak, from which we descended
into another small valley, down which we continued to the point of its
termination, near some narrow and difficult mountain gorges. In
exploring the gorges, we discovered the trail of a party of
Californians, which had passed south several days before us, and found
a horse which they had left in their march. This, doubtless, was a
portion of the party which captured Mr. Larkin, and had the engagement
between Monterey and St. Juan, on the 17th ult. The main body coming
up, we encamped at three o'clock. The old grass around our camp is
abundant; but having been so much washed by the rains, and consequently
exhausted of its nutritious qualities, the animals refused to eat it.
The country over which we have travelled to-day, and as far as I can
see, is mountainous and broken, little of it being adapted to other
agricultural purposes than grazing.
Thirteen beeves are slaughtered every afternoon for the consumption of
the battalion. These beeves are generally of good size, and in fair
condition. Other provisions being entirely exhausted, beef constitutes
the only subsistence for the men, and most of the officers. Under these
circumstances, the consumption of beef is astonishing. I do not know
that I shall be believed when I state a fact, derived from observation
and calculation, that the average consumption per man of fresh beef is
at least ten pounds per day. Many of them, I believe, consume much
more, and some of them less. Nor does this quantity appear to be
injurious to health, or fully to satisfy the appetite. I have seen some
of the men roast their meat and devour it by the fire from the hour of
encamping until late bed-time. They would then sleep until one or two
o'clock in the morning, when, the cravings of hunger being greater than
the desire for repose, the same occupation would be resumed, and
continued until the order was given to march. The Californian beef is
generally fat, juicy, and tender, and surpasses in flavour any which I
ever tasted elsewhere. Distance 10 miles.
_December 5_.--I rose before daylight. The moon shone brightly. The
temperature was cold. The vapour in the atmosphere had congealed and
fallen upon the ground in feathery flakes, covering it with a white
semi-transparent veil, or crystal sheen, sparkling in the moonbeams.
The smoke from the numerous camp-fires soon began to curl languidly up
in graceful wreaths, settling upon the mountain summits. The scene was
one for the pencil and brush of the artist; but, when the envious sun
rose, he soon stripped Madam Earth of her gauzy holiday morning-gown,
and exposed her every-day petticoat of mud.
Our march to-day has been one of great difficulty, through a deep
brushy mountain gorge, through which it was almost impossible to force
the field-pieces. In one place they were lowered with ropes down a
steep and nearly perpendicular precipice of great height and depth. We
encamped about three o'clock, P.M., in a small valley. Many of the
horses gave out on the march, and were left behind by the men, who came
straggling into camp until a late hour of the evening, bringing their
saddles and baggage upon their shoulders. I noticed, while crossing an
elevated ridge of hills, flakes of snow flying in the air, but melting
before they reached the ground. The small spring-branch on which we
encamped empties into the Salinas River. The country surrounding us is
elevated and broken, and the soil sandy, with but little timber or
grass upon it. Distance 12 miles.
_December 6_.--Morning clear and cool. Crossed an undulating country,
destitute of timber and water, and encamped in a circular valley
surrounded by elevated hills, through which flows a small tributary of
the Salinas. The summits of the mountains in sight are covered with
snow, but the temperature in the valleys is pleasant. Distance 15
miles.
_December 7_.--Ice, the first I have seen since entering California,
formed in the branch, of the thickness of window-glass. We reached the
valley of the Salinas about eleven o'clock A.M., and encamped for the
day. The river Salinas (laid down in some maps as Rio San Buenaventura)
rises in the mountains to the south, and has a course of some sixty or
eighty miles, emptying into the Pacific about twelve miles north of
Monterey. The valley, as it approaches the ocean, is broad and fertile,
and there are many fine ranchos upon it. But, higher up, the stream
becomes dry in the summer, and the soil of the valley is arid and
sandy. The width of the stream at this point is about thirty yards. Its
banks are skirted by narrow belts of small timber. A range of elevated
mountains rises between this valley and the coast. A court-martial was
held to-day, for the trial of sundry offenders. Distance 8 miles.
_December 8_.--Morning cool, clear, and pleasant. Two Californians were
arrested by the rear-guard near a deserted rancho, and brought into
camp. One of them turned out to be a person known to be friendly to the
Americans. There has been but little variation in the soil or scenery.
But few attempts appear to have been made to settle this portion of
California. The thefts and hostilities of the Tular Indians are said to
be one of the causes preventing its settlement. Distance 15 miles.
_December 9_.--The mornings are cool, but the middle of the day is too
warm to ride comfortably with our coats on. Our march has been
fatiguing and difficult, through several brushy ravines and over steep
and elevated hills. Many horses gave out as usual, and were left, from
inability to travel. Our _caballada_ is diminishing rapidly. Distance
10 miles.
_December 10_.--Our march has been on the main beaten trail, dry and
hard, and over a comparatively level country. We passed the mission of
San Miguel about three o'clock, and encamped in a grove of large oak
timber, three or four miles south of it. This mission is situated on
the upper waters of the Salinas, in an extensive plain. Under the
administration of the _padres_ it was a wealthy establishment, and
manufactures of various kinds were carried on. They raised immense
numbers of sheep, the fleeces of which were manufactured by the Indians
into blankets and coarse cloths. Their granaries were filled with an
abundance of maize and frijoles, and their store-rooms with other
necessaries of life, from the ranchos belonging to the mission lands in
the vicinity. Now all the buildings, except the church and the
principal range of houses contiguous, have fallen into ruins, and an
Englishman, his wife, and one small child, with two or three Indian
servants, are the sole inhabitants. The church is the largest I have
seen in the country, and its interior is in good repair, although it
has not probably been used for the purpose of public worship for many
years. The Englishman professes to have purchased the mission and all
the lands belonging to it for 300 dollars.
Our stock of cattle being exhausted, we feasted on Californian mutton,
sheep being more abundant than cattle at this mission. The wool, I
noticed, was coarse, but the mutton was of an excellent quality. The
country over which we have travelled to-day shows the marks of long
drought previous to the recent rains. The soil is sandy and gravelly,
and the dead vegetation upon it is thin and stunted. About eighty of
our horses are reported to have given out and been left behind.
Distance 20 miles.
_December 12_.--To relieve our horses, which are constantly giving out
from exhaustion, the grass being insufficient for their sustenance
while performing labour, the entire battalion, officers and men, were
ordered to march on foot, turning their horses, with the saddles and
bridles upon them, into the general _caballada_, to be driven along by
the horse-guard. The day has been drizzly, cold, and disagreeable. The
country has a barren and naked appearance; but this, I believe, is
attributable to the extreme drought that has prevailed in this region
for one or two years past. We encamped near the rancho of a friendly
Californian--the man who was taken prisoner the other day and set at
large. An Indian, said to be the servant of Tortoria Pico, was captured
here by the advance party. A letter was found upon him, but the
contents of which I never learned. This being the first foot-march,
there were, of course, many galled and blistered feet in the battalion.
My servant obtained, with some difficulty, from the Indians at the
rancho, a pint-cup of _pinole_, or parched corn-meal, and a quart or
two of wheat, which, being boiled, furnished some variety in our viands
at supper, fresh beef having been our only subsistence since the
commencement of the march from San Juan. Distance 12 miles.
_December 13_.--A rainy disagreeable morning. Mr. Stanley, one of the
volunteers, and one of the gentlemen who so kindly supplied us with
provisions on Mary's River, died last night. He has been suffering from
an attack of typhoid fever since the commencement of our march, and
unable most of the time to sit upon his horse. He was buried this
morning in a small circular opening in the timber near our camp. The
battalion was formed in a hollow square surrounding the grave which had
been excavated for the final resting-place of our deceased friend and
comrade. There was neither bier, nor coffin, nor pall--
"Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note."
The cold earth was heaped upon his mortal remains in silent solemnity,
and the ashes of a braver or a better man will never repose in the
lonely hills of California.
After the funeral the battalion was marched a short distance to witness
another scene, not more mournful, but more harrowing than the last. The
Indian captured at the rancho yesterday was condemned to die. He was
brought from his place of confinement and tied to a tree. Here he stood
some fifteen or twenty minutes, until the Indians from a neighbouring
_rancheria_ could be brought to witness the execution. A file of
soldiers were then ordered to fire upon him. He fell upon his knees,
and remained in that position several minutes without uttering a groan,
and then sank upon the earth. No human being could have met his fate
with more composure, or with stronger manifestations of courage. It was
a scene such as I desire never to witness again.
A cold rain fell upon us during the entire day's march. We encamped at
four o'clock, P.M.; but the rain poured down in such torrents that it
was impossible to light our camp-fires and keep them burning. This
continued nearly the whole night, and I have rarely passed a night more
uncomfortably. A scouting party brought in two additional prisoners
this evening. Another returned, and reported the capture of a number of
horses, and the destruction of a rancho by fire. Distance 12 miles.
_December 14_.--The battalion commenced its march on foot and in a
heavy rain. The mud is very deep, and we have been compelled to wade
several streams of considerable depth, being swollen by the recent
rains. At one o'clock a halt was ordered, and beef slaughtered and
cooked for dinner. The march was resumed late in the afternoon, and the
plain surrounding the mission of San Luis Obispo was reached in the
pitch darkness of the night, a family in the _canada_ having been taken
prisoners by the advance party to prevent them from giving the alarm.
The battalion was so disposed as to surround the mission and take
prisoners all contained within it. The place was entered in great
confusion, on account of the darkness, about nine o'clock. There was no
military force at the mission, and the few inhabitants were greatly
alarmed, as may well be supposed, by this sudden invasion. They made no
resistance, and were all taken prisoners except one or two, who managed
to escape and fled in great terror, no one knew where or how. It being
ascertained that Tortoria Pico, a man who has figured conspicuously in
most of the Californian revolutions, was in the neighbourhood, a party
was despatched immediately to the place, and he was brought in a
prisoner. The night was rainy and boisterous, and the soldiers were
quartered to the best advantage in the miserable mud houses, and no
acts of violence or outrage of any kind were committed.
The men composing the Californian battalion, as I have before stated,
have been drawn from many sources, and are roughly clad, and
weather-beaten in their exterior appearance; but I feel it but justice
here to state my belief, that no military party ever passed through an
enemy's country and observed the same strict regard for the rights of
its population. I never heard of an outrage, or even a trespass being
committed by one of the American volunteers during our entire march.
Every American appeared to understand perfectly the duty which he owed
to himself and others in this respect, and the deportment of the
battalion might be cited as a model for imitation. Distance 18 miles.
CHAPTER X.
Tremendous rain
Mission of San Luis Obispo
Gardens
Various fruits
Farm
Cactus tuna
Calinche
Pumpkins
Trial of Tortoria Pico
Procession of women
Pico's pardon
Leave San Luis
Surf of the Pacific
Captain Dana
Tempestuous night
Mission of St. Ynes
Effects of drought
Horses exhausted
St. Ynes Mountain
View of the plain of Santa Barbara and the Pacific
A wretched Christmas-day
Descent of St. Ynes Mountain
Terrible storm
Frightful destruction of horses
Dark night
What we are fighting for
Arrive at Santa Barbara
Town deserted.
_December 15_.--The rain fell in cataracts the entire day. The small
streams which flow from the mountains through, and water the valley of,
San Luis Obispo, are swollen by the deluge of water from the clouds
into foaming unfordable torrents. In order not to trespass upon the
population at the mission, in their miserable abodes of mud, the church
was opened, and a large number of the soldiers were quartered in it. A
guard, however, was set day and night, over the chancel and all other
property contained in the building, to prevent its being injured or
disturbed. The decorations of the church are much the same as I have
before described. The edifice is large, and the interior in good
repair. The floor is paved with square bricks. I noticed a common
hand-organ in the church, which played the airs we usually hear from
organ-grinders in the street.
Besides the main large buildings connected with the church, there are
standing, and partially occupied, several small squares of adobe
houses, belonging to this mission. The heaps of mud, and crumbling
walls outside of these, are evidence that the place was once of much
greater extent, and probably one of the most opulent and prosperous
establishments of the kind in the country. The lands surrounding the
mission are finely situated for cultivation and irrigation if
necessary. There are several large gardens, inclosed by high and
substantial walls, which now contain a great variety of fruit-trees and
shrubbery. I noticed the orange, fig, palm, olive, and grape. There are
also large inclosures hedged in by the prickly-pear (cactus), which
grows to an enormous size, and makes an impervious barrier against man
or beast. The stalks of some of these plants are of the thickness of a
man's body, and grow to the height of fifteen feet. A juicy fruit is
produced by the prickly-pear, named _tuna_, from which a beverage is
sometimes made, called _calinche_. It has a pleasant flavour, as has
also the fruit, which, when ripe, is blood-red. A small quantity of
pounded wheat was found here, which, being purchased, was served out to
the troops, about a pound to the man. Frijoles and pumpkins were also
obtained, delicacies of no common order.
_December 16_.--A court-martial was convened this morning for the trial
of Pico, the principal prisoner, on the charge, I understood, of the
forfeiture of his parole which had been taken on a former occasion. The
sentence of the court was, that he should be shot or hung, I do not
know which. A rumour is current among the population here, that there
has been an engagement between a party of Americans and Californians,
near Los Angeles, in which the former were defeated with the loss of
thirty men killed.
_December 17_.--Cool, with a hazy sky. While standing in one of the
corridors this morning, a procession of females passed by me, headed by
a lady of fine appearance and dressed with remarkable taste and
neatness, compared with those who followed her. Their _rebosos_
concealed the faces of most of them, except the leader, whose beautiful
features, dare say, she thought (and justly) required no concealment.
They proceeded to the quarters of Colonel Fremont, and their object, I
understood, was to petition for the reprieve or pardon of Pico, who had
been condemned to death by the court-martial yesterday, and whose
execution was expected to take place this morning. Their intercession
was successful, as no execution took place, and in a short time all the
prisoners were discharged, and the order to saddle up and march given.
We resumed our march at ten o'clock, and encamped just before sunset in
a small but picturesque and fertile valley timbered with oak, so near
the coast that the roar of the surf breaking against the shore could be
heard distinctly. Distance seven miles.
_December 18_.--Clear, with a delightful temperature. Before the sun
rose the grass was covered with a white frost. The day throughout has
been calm and beautiful. A march of four miles brought us to the shore
of a small indentation in the coast of the Pacific, where vessels can
anchor, and boats can land when the wind is not too fresh. The surf is
now rolling and foaming with prodigious energy--breaking upon the beach
in long lines one behind the other, and striking the shore like
cataracts. The hills and plains are verdant with a carpet of fresh
grass, and the scattered live-oaks on all sides, appearing like
orchards of fruit-trees, give to the country an old and cultivated
aspect. The mountains bench away on our left, the low hills rising in
gentle conical forms, beyond which are the more elevated and
precipitous peaks covered with snow. We encamped about three o'clock
near the rancho of Captain Dana, in a large and handsome valley well
watered by an _arroyo_.
Captain Dana is a native of Massachusetts, and has resided in this
country about thirty years. He is known and esteemed throughout
California for his intelligence and private virtues, and his unbounded
generosity and hospitality. I purchased here a few loaves of wheat
bread, and distributed them among the men belonging to our company as
far as they would go, a luxury which they have not indulged in since
the commencement of the march. Distance 15 miles.
_December 19_.--The night was cold and tempestuous, with a slight fall
of rain. The clouds broke away after sunrise, and the day became warm
and pleasant. We continued our march up the valley, and encamped near
its head. The table-land and hills are generally gravelly, but appear
to be productive of fine grass. The soil of the bottom is of the
richest and most productive composition. We crossed in the course of
the day a wide flat plain, upon which were grazing large herds of
brood-mares (_manadas_) and cattle. In the distance they resembled
large armies approaching us. The peaks of the elevated mountains in
sight are covered with snow. A large number of horses gave out,
strayed, and were left behind to-day, estimated at one hundred. The men
came into camp bringing their saddles on their backs, and some of them
arriving late in the evening. Distance 18 miles.
_December 20_.--Parties were sent back this morning to gather up horses
and baggage left on the march yesterday, and it was one o'clock before
the rear-guard, waiting for the return of those, left camp. The main
body made a short march and encamped early, in a small hollow near the
rancho of Mr. Faxon, through which flows an _arroyo_, the surrounding
hills being timbered with evergreen oaks. The men amused themselves
during the afternoon in target-shooting. Many of the battalion are fine
marksmen with the rifle, and the average of shots could not easily be
surpassed. The camp spread over an undulating surface of half a mile in
diameter, and at night, when the fires were lighted, illuminating the
grove, with its drapery of drooping Spanish moss, it presented a most
picturesque appearance. Distance 3 miles.
_December 21_.--Clear and pleasant. A foot march was ordered, with the
exception of the horse and baggage guard. We marched several miles
through a winding hollow, passing a deserted rancho, and ascending with
much labour a steep ridge of hills, descending which we entered a
handsome valley, and encamped upon a small stream about four miles from
the mission of St. Ynes. The banks of the _arroyo_ are strewn with dead
and prostrate timber, the trees, large and small, having been
overthrown by tornados. The plain has suffered, like much of the
country we have passed through, by a long-continued drought, but the
composition of the soil is such as indicates fertility, and from the
effects of the late rains the grass is springing up with great
luxuriance, from places which before were entirely denuded of
vegetation. A party was sent from camp to inspect the mission, but
returned without making any important discoveries. Our horses are so
weak that many of them are unable to carry their saddles, and were left
on the road as usual. A man had his leg broken on the march to-day, by
the kick of a mule. He was sent back to the rancho of Mr. Faxon.
Distance 15 miles.
_December 22_.--Clear and pleasant. Being of the party which performed
rear-guard duty to-day, with orders to bring in all stragglers, we did
not leave camp until several hours after the main body had left. The
horses of the _caballada_ and the pack-animals were continually giving
out and refusing to proceed. Parties of men, exhausted, lay down upon
the ground, and it was with much urging, and sometimes with peremptory
commands only, that they could be prevailed upon to proceed. The
country bears the same marks of drought heretofore described, but fresh
vegetation is now springing up and appears vigorous. A large
horse-trail loading into one of the _canadas_ of the mountains on our
left was discovered by the scouts, and a party was dispatched to trace
it. We passed one deserted rancho, and reached camp between nine and
ten o'clock at night, having forced in all the men and most of the
horses and pack-mules. Distance 15 miles.
_December 23_.--Rain fell steadily and heavily the entire day. A small
party of men was in advance. Discovering in a brushy valley two Indians
armed with bows and arrows, they were taken prisoners. Learning from
them that there was a _caballada_ of horses secreted in one of the
_canadas_, they continued on about ten miles, and found about
twenty-five fresh fat horses, belonging to a Californian now among the
insurgents below. They were taken and delivered at the camp near the
eastern base of the St. Ynes Mountain. Passed this morning a rancho
inhabited by a foreigner, an Englishman.
_December 24_.--Cloudy and cool, with an occasional sprinkling rain.
Our route to-day lay directly over the St. Ynes Mountain, by an
elevated and most difficult pass. The height of this mountain is
several thousand feet. We reached the summit about twelve o'clock, and,
our company composing the advance-guard, we encamped about a mile and a
half in advance of the main body of the battalion, at a point which
overlooks the beautiful plain
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