Chapter II: Part 2

Their food, sufficiently disgusting in itself, is rendered still more so by their manner of eating. It consists almost exclusively of fish, of which the whale is the chief favourite, and its blubber an especial dainty. This is sometimes cooked upon red-hot stones, but more commonly eaten raw. The skins of the sea-otters form their principal wealth, and are a substitute for money; these they barter with the ships which trade with them, to the prejudice of the Russian Company, for muskets, powder, and lead. No Kalush is without one musket at least, of which he perfectly understands the use. The richer a Kalush is, the more powerful he becomes; he has a multitude of wives who bring him a numerous family, and he purchases male and female slaves who must labour and fish for him, and strengthen his force when engaged in warfare. These slaves are prisoners of war, and their descendants; the master's power over them is unlimited, and he even puts them to death without scruple. When the master dies, two of his slaves are murdered on his grave, that he may not want attendance in the other world; these are chosen long before the event occurs, but meet the destiny that awaits them, very philosophically. The continual wars which the different races carry on against each other, with a ferocious cruelty uncommon even among savages, may account for the scanty population of this district; the fire-arms with which, to their own misfortune, they have been furnished by the American ships, have contributed to render their combats more bloody, and consequently to cause renewed and increased irritation. Bows and arrows were formerly their only weapons; now, besides their muskets, they have daggers, and knives half a yard long; they never attack their enemies openly, but fall suddenly upon them in moments of the utmost fancied security. The hope of booty, or of taking a prisoner, is a sufficient motive for one of these treacherous attacks, in which they practise the greatest barbarities; hence the Kalushes, even in time of peace, are always on their guard. They establish their temporary abodes on spots in some measure fortified by nature, and commanding an extensive view on all sides. During the night, the watch is confided to women, who, assembled round a fire outside the hut, amuse themselves by recounting the warlike deeds of their husbands and sons.

Domestic occupations, even the most laborious, are also left to females; the men employing themselves only in hunting, and building their canoes. The slaves are required to assist the women, who often treat them in a most merciless manner. The females take an active part in the wars; they not only stimulate the valour of the men, but even support them in the battle.

Besides the desire of booty, the most frequent occasion of warfare is revenge. One murder can only be atoned by another; but it is indifferent whether the murderer or one of his relations fall,--the custom merely requires a man for a man; should the murdered person be a female, a female is required in return. A case which would appear inconceivable has actually occurred,--that one of these most disgusting creatures has occasioned a struggle similar to that of Troy for the fair Helen, and an advantageous peace has been obtained by the cession of one of these monsters. The Kalush, who would probably look coldly on our most lovely females, finds his filthy countrywomen, with their lip-troughs, so charming, that they often awaken in him the most vehement passion. In proof of this, I remember an occurrence which took place during our residence in Sitka, among a horde of Kalushes who had encamped in the vicinity of the fortress. A girl had four lovers, whose jealousy produced the most violent quarrels: after fighting a long time without any result, they determined to end the strife by murdering the object of their love, and the resolution was immediately executed with their lances. The whole horde assembled round the funeral pile, and chanted a song, a part of which was interpreted by one of our countrymen, who had been long resident here. "Thou wast too beautiful--thou couldst not live--men looked on thee, and madness fired their hearts!"

Savage as this action was, another exceeded it in ferocity. A father, irritated by the cries of his child, an infant in the cradle, snatched it up, and threw it into a vessel full of boiling whale-oil. These examples are sufficient to characterise this hateful people, who appear to be in every respect the very refuse of human nature.

Their weddings are celebrated merely by a feast given to the relatives of the bride. The dead are burned, and their ashes preserved in small wooden boxes, in buildings appropriated to that purpose. They have a confused notion of immortality, and this is the only trace of religion which appears amongst them. They have neither priests, idols, nor any description of worship, but they place great faith in witchcraft; and the sorcerers, who are also their physicians, are held in high estimation, though more feared than loved. These sorcerers profess to heal the sick by conjurations of the Wicked Spirit; they are, however, acquainted with the medicinal properties of many herbs, but carefully conceal their knowledge as a profitable mystery.

We often received visits on board from chiefs of the Kalushes, generally with their whole family and attendants, who came to examine the ship, receive presents, and eat their fill, expressing their gratitude for these civilities by attempting to entertain us with their horrid national dance. Before coming on board, they usually rowed several times round the ship, howling a song to the following effect: "We come to you as friends, and have really no evil intention. Our fathers lived in strife with you, but let peace be between us. Receive us with hospitality, and expect the same from us." This song was accompanied by a sort of tambourine, which did not improve its harmony. They would not climb the ship's side till we had several times repeated our invitation, as it is not their custom to accept the first offer of hospitality, probably from a feeling of distrust. On these visits, the Kalushes were more than usually particular in the decoration of their persons. Their faces were so thickly smeared with stripes of red, black, and white paint, that their natural colour could not be known. Their bodies were painted with black stripes, and their hair covered with a quantity of white down and feathers, which were scattered around with every motion of their heads. Ermine-skins are also frequently fastened into the hair. A wolf or bear-skin, or a blanket, tied round the neck, covers their bodies, and they use an eagle's wing or tail as a fan. Their feet are always bare.

When on such occasions they had seen all they wished of the ship, except the cabins, (for these I would not suffer them to enter, on account of the abominable stench left behind by the rancid oil and blubber, which they used as perfumes,) they assembled upon deck to dance. The women did not dance, but assisted as musicians. Their song, accompanied by the dull music of the tambourine, consisted of a few hollow and unconnected tones, sent forth at intervals to keep time with the stamping of their feet. The men made the most extraordinary motions with their arms and bodies, varying them by high leaps into the air, while showers of feathers fell from their heads. Every dancer retained his own place, but turning continually round and round, gave the spectators an opportunity of admiring him on all sides. One only stood a little apart; he was particularly decorated with ermine-skins and feathers, and beat time for the dancing with a staff ornamented with the teeth of the sea-otter. He appeared to be the director of all the movements.

At every pause we offered tobacco-leaves to the dancers and musical ladies: both sexes eagerly seized the favourite refreshment, and crammed their mouths with it, then recommencing the music and dancing with renewed alacrity. When at length downright exhaustion put an end to the spectacle, the Kalushes were entertained with a favourite mess of rice boiled with treacle. They lay down round the wooden dishes, and helped themselves greedily with their dirty hands. During the meal, the women were much inconvenienced by their lip-troughs; the weight of the rice made them hang over the whole chin, and the mouth could not contain all that was intended for it.

During one of these repasts, the Kalushes were much terrified by a young bear which we had brought from Kamtschatka: breaking loose from his chain, he sprang over their heads, and seizing on the wooden vessel that contained the rice, carried it off in triumph. At parting we always gave them a dram of brandy, which they are very fond of, and can drink in considerable quantities without injury.

That no vice may be wanting to complete their characters, the Kalushes are great gamblers. Their common game is played with little wooden sticks painted of various colours, and called by several names, such as, crab, whale, duck, &c., which are mingled promiscuously together, and placed in heaps covered with moss; the players being then required to tell in which heap the crab, the whale, &c. lies. They lose at this game all their possessions, and even their wives and children, who then become the property of the winner.

During the whole of our residence at Sitka, we maintained peace with the Kalushes, which may be entirely attributed to the moderation and intrepidity of our sailors.

Opposite our frigate, on the shore, the ship's cooper had settled under a tent, almost all our casks being in want of repair; and I allowed him three armed sailors as assistants and protectors against the Kalushes.

One day ten of these savages armed with long knives came into the tent; having sat for some time contemplating the work, they became very troublesome, and, on being forbidden to pass the bounds previously prescribed, drew their knives and attacked the cooper, who would have been severely wounded had he not by good fortune parried a dangerous thrust. The three sailors now sprang forward with their loaded muskets; but as they had received the strictest injunctions not to shed blood, except in the most extreme necessity, they contented themselves with standing before the Kalushes and keeping them off with their bayonets. The savages at first continued to threaten the sailors, but on finding they were not to be intimidated, thought proper to retire to the forest. Had a skirmish really ensued, the consequences might have been serious. The Kalushes would all have united against us, and by rushing upon us from their hiding-places, whenever we left the protection of the ship or the fortress, might have done us much mischief. For this reason, Captain Murawieff, the governor of the settlement, had always exerted himself to the utmost to prevent any disputes. By his judicious regulations, he had acquired great influence over the natives, and had effected considerable improvement in their behaviour. In every respect, indeed, the administration of this excellent man has been such as to promote the true welfare of the colonies; and if the plans laid down by him for the future be adhered to, the trade of the Company will be materially benefited, and new sources of profit opened to them.

I have already mentioned that no people in the world surpass the citizens of the United States in the boldness, activity, and perseverance of their mercantile speculations. This observation was confirmed by an instance we met with here.

On the 16th of April 1825, a two-masted ship ran into this harbour from Boston. It had performed the voyage by Cape Horn in a hundred and sixty-six days, without having put into any intermediate port. Captain Blanchard, proprietor both of the ship, and of the whole cargo, had, upon the strength of a mere report, expended his whole capital upon certain articles of which he had heard that New Archangel was in need; and now, at the close of his immense voyage, found with dismay that not only was the colony well provided for the present, but that a ship was also daily expected from St. Petersburg laden with every thing it could desire. As, however, his offers were very reasonable, the ship and cargo were subsequently purchased of him for twenty-one thousand skins of sea-cats, (not otters) with the stipulation on his part, that he, his crew, and his skins, should be transported to the Sandwich Islands, whence he hoped to procure a passage for Canton, and there to dispose of his merchandise to advantage. These skins are usually sold in China for two Spanish dollars each.

On the arrival of Captain Blanchard's ship in port, the whole crew, he himself not excepted, were in a state of intoxication; and it appeared to be mere good luck that they had escaped the dangers of so many rocks and shallows; but the North Americans are such clever sailors, that even when drunk they are capable of managing a ship. It is also probable, that these had lived more soberly during the voyage, and had been tempted by the joy of completing it, to extraordinary indulgence. On my visit to the ship, I could not help remarking the great economy of all its arrangements: no such thing, for instance, as a looking-glass was to be seen, except the one kept for measuring the angle of the sextant, and that, small as it was, assisted the whole crew in the operation of shaving.

On the 30th of July, the ship Helena, belonging to the Company, arrived in New Archangel from Petersburg, bringing an ample provision of necessaries for the colony. To us this ship was particularly welcome, as the bearer of permission to leave our station and return to Russia. We immediately set to work to get our vessel in sailing order; and the 11th of August was the long wished-for day, when, favoured by a fresh north wind, we bade adieu to New Archangel, where we had passed five months and a-half surrounded by a people calculated only to inspire aversion, and without relief to the wearisomeness of our mode of life, except in the society of Captain Murawieff and the few Russian inhabitants of the fortress.

I determined to return to Kronstadt by the Chinese Sea and the Cape of Good Hope. But having no intention of following Captain Blanchard's example, in wearing out my crew by a voyage of unreasonable length without any relaxation, I appointed Manilla, in the Philippine island of Luçon, for their resting-place, after having made another attempt to find the Ralik chain of islands.

The medium of the astronomical observations made during these five months, gave, as the geographical longitude of New Archangel, 135° 33' 18", and the latitude as 57° 2' 57"; the declination of the needle as 27° 30' east. According to this, the promontory of Mount Edgecumbe is in the longitude 136° 1' 49"; consequently about 20' more westerly than appears on Vancouver's map.

We found a similar difference between our observation of St. Francisco and his; I therefore believe that his whole survey of the north-west coast of America represents it more easterly than it really is. Our longitudes have the greater claim to confidence, as they were the results of repeated observations on land, while his were merely taken on shipboard _en passant_.

The medium of our observations at New Archangel upon the difference in high tides at the new and full moon, gave thirty minutes for the time, and sixteen feet for the greatest difference in the height of the water.

CALIFORNIA,

AND THE RUSSIAN SETTLEMENT OF

ROSS.

CALIFORNIA, AND THE RUSSIAN SETTLEMENT OF ROSS.

I have already mentioned, in the foregoing chapter, that I was allowed to pass the winter of 1824 in California and the Sandwich Islands. Captain Lasaref also, whom I relieved on the station, proposed to run into St. Francisco on the coast of California, on his return, in order there to lay in fresh provisions for his passage round Cape Horn. He first awaited, however, the arrival of the post from St. Petersburg, which passes between these distant points of our far-spreading monarchy only once in the year, arriving in the spring at Ochotsk by the way of Siberia, and reaching New Archangel in the autumn by sea.

It was on the 10th of September 1824, that after having made the necessary preparations for our subsequent residence in New Archangel, and having properly equipped the ship, we again put to sea, and a brisk north wind soon carried us in a southerly direction towards the fertile peninsula of California. Our voyage was safe, and varied by no remarkable occurrence, except that under forty degrees of latitude we were indulged with the spectacle of a most extraordinary struggle between two opposing winds.

After a few days' pretty fresh breezes from the south, clouds suddenly appeared in the north, and, by the motion of the water, we perceived that an equally strong wind was rising in that direction. The waves from the opposite regions foamed and raged against each other like hostile forces; but between them lay a path some fathoms broad, and stretching from east to west to an immeasurable length, which appeared perfectly neutral ground, and enjoyed all the repose of the most profound peace, not a single breath troubling the glassy smoothness of its surface. After a time, victory declared for Boreas, and he drove the smooth strip towards our vessel, which had hitherto been sailing in the territory of the south wind. We presently entered the calm region; and while we had not a puff to swell our sails, the wind raged with undiminished fury on both sides. This strange spectacle lasted for about a quarter of an hour; when the north wind, which had been continually advancing, reached us, and carried us quickly forward towards the point of our destination.

On the 25th of September we found ourselves, by observations, in the neighbourhood of the promontory called by the Spaniards "the King," not far from the bay of St. Francisco; but a thick fog, which at this season always reigns over the coast of California, veiled the wished-for land till the 27th. At ten o'clock in the morning of this day, at a distance of only three miles, we doubled his rocky majesty, a high bold hill terminating towards the sea in a steep wall of black rock, and having nothing at all regal in its appearance,--and perceived in his neighbourhood a very strong surf, occasioned by two contrary and violent currents raging, with the vain fury of insurrection, against the tranquillity of his immoveable throne.

The channel leading into the beautiful basin of St. Francisco is only half gun-shot wide, and commanded by a fortress situated on its left bank, on a high rock, named after St. Joachim. We could distinguish the republican flag, the waving signal, that even this most northern colony of Spain no longer acknowledges the authority of the mother country; we also remarked a few cavalry and a crowd of people who were watching our swiftly sailing vessel with the most eager attention. As we drew nearer, a sentinel grasped with both hands a long speaking trumpet, and enquired our nation and from whence we came. This sharp interrogatory, the sight of the cannon pointed upon our track, and the military, few indeed, but ready for battle, might have induced an opinion that the fortress had power to refuse entrance even to a ship of war, had we not been acquainted with the true state of affairs. St. Joachim, on his rocky throne, is truly a very peaceable and well-disposed saint; no one of his cannon is in condition to fire a single shot, and his troops are cautious of venturing into actual conflict: he fights with words only. I would not therefore refuse to his fortress the courtesy of a salute, but was much astonished at not finding my guns returned. An ambassador from shore soon solved the mystery, by coming to beg so much powder as would serve to answer my civility with becoming respect.

As soon as we had dropped anchor, the whole of the military left the fortress without a garrison, to mingle with the assemblage of curious gazers on the shore, where the apparition of our ship seemed to excite as much astonishment as in the South Sea Islands. I now sent Lieutenant Pfeifer ashore, to notify our arrival in due form to the commandant, and to request his assistance in furnishing our vessel with fresh provisions. The commandant himself, Don Martinez Ignatio, lieutenant of cavalry, had been summoned to the capital Monterey, to attend Congress, and was absent; his deputy, the second lieutenant, Don Joseph Sanchez, received my envoy with much cordiality, and referred in a very flattering manner to my former visit to this port, in the ship Rurik. Don Sanchez was at that time a brave subaltern; but had since, under republican colours, risen in the service. He promised to lend us every assistance in his power, and proved his friendly intentions by an immediate present of fruits, vegetables, and fresh meats.

As our accounts of California are few and defective, a rapid glance at the history and constitution of this unknown but beautiful country, richly endowed by Nature with all that an industrious population could require to furnish the comforts and enjoyments of life, but hitherto sadly neglected under Spanish mis-government, will probably not be unwelcome to the readers who have accompanied me thus far: I will therefore, on its behalf, defer, for a short space, the account of our residence here.

The narrow peninsula on the north-west coast of America, beginning at St. Diego's Point, under thirty-two degrees of latitude, and ending with the promontory of St. Lucas, under twenty-two degrees, was first exclusively called California; but the Spaniards extended this appellation to their more recent discoveries on this coast towards the north; since which, the peninsula has been named Old, and the more northern coast to the Bay of St. Francisco, in thirty-seven degrees latitude, New California; from thence begins the so-called New Albion.

Mexico did not suffice to the ambition of its restless conqueror Cortez. To extend still farther the dominion of Spain, he directed the building of large vessels on the western coast of Mexico; and thus, in the year 1534, was California first seen by Spanish navigators, and in 1537 visited by Francisco de Ulloa. When information of the new discoveries reached the Spanish government, they resolved, contrary to their proceedings in the cases of Mexico and Peru, to gain peaceable possession of the new country by converting the inhabitants to the Christian religion, and declared that this pious object was all they had in view.

Only a small military force was, in fact, dispatched with a body of Jesuits, who established a settlement and began the trade of conversion. Disinterested as this rather expensive expedition appeared, its secret motive might probably be found in the fear that any other nation should establish itself in the neighbourhood of Mexico and the Spanish gold-mines.

The Jesuits came and made converts. These were followed by the Dominicans, who still have settlements, called here missions, in Old California; and subsequently by the Franciscans, who have established themselves in the New. They all convert away at a great rate,--we shall soon find how.

The first missions were seated on the coast of Old California, for the convenience of communication by sea with Mexico, and because the country was favourable to agriculture. The military who accompanied the monks, selected for their residence a situation from whence they could overlook several missions, and be always ready for their defence. These military posts are here called Presidios.

As it was not possible to make the savage natives comprehend the doctrines of Christianity, their inculcation was out of the question; and all that these religionists thought necessary to be done with this simple, timid race, scarcely superior to the animals by whom they were surrounded, was to introduce the Catholic worship, or, more properly, the dominion of the monks, by force of arms. The missions multiplied rapidly. In New California, where we now were, the first of these, that of St. Diego, was established in 1769; now there are twenty-one in this country. Twenty-five thousand baptized Indians belong at present to these missions, and a military force of five hundred dragoons is found sufficient to keep them in obedience, to prevent their escape, or, if they should elude the vigilance of their guards, to bring them from the midst of their numerous tribes, improving the favourable opportunity of making new converts by the power of the sword.

The fate of these so called Christian Indians is not preferable even to that of negro slaves. Abandoned to the despotism of tyrannical monks, Heaven itself offers no refuge from their sufferings; for their spiritual masters stand as porters at the gate, and refuse entrance to whom they please. These unfortunate beings pass their lives in prayer, and in toiling for the monks, without possessing any property of their own. Thrice a day they are driven to church, to hear a mass in the Latin language; the rest of their time is employed in labouring in the fields and gardens with coarse, clumsy implements, and in the evening they are locked up in over-crowded barracks, which, unboarded, and without windows or beds, rather resemble cows' stalls than habitations for men. A coarse woollen shirt which they make themselves, and then receive as a present from the missionaries, constitutes their only clothing. Such is the happiness which the Catholic religion has brought to the uncultivated Indian; and this is the Paradise which he must not presume to undervalue by attempting a return to freedom in the society of his unconverted countrymen, under penalty of imprisonment in fetters.

The large tract of arable land which these pious shepherds of souls have appropriated to themselves, and which is cultivated by their flocks, is for the most part sown with wheat and pulse. The harvest is laid up in store; and what is not necessary for immediate consumption is shipped for Mexico, and there either exchanged for articles required by the missions, or sold for hard piastres to fill the coffers of the monks.

In this way were the missionaries, and the military who depended upon them, living quietly enough in California, when the other Spanish colonies threw off their allegiance to the mother country. The insurrection having spread as far as Mexico, they were invited by the new governments, under advantageous conditions, to make common cause with them, but they remained true to their King; nor was their fidelity shaken by the total neglect of the Spaniards, who for many years appeared to have forgotten their very existence, and had not even troubled themselves to make the ordinary remittances for the pay of the military, or the support of the monks. Still their loyalty remained unshaken; they implicitly obeyed even that command of the King which closed their ports against all foreign vessels; and as the republicans were considered as foreigners, and no ships arrived from Spain, the missions, as well as the Presidios, soon began to suffer the greatest scarcity of many necessaries which the country did not produce. The soldiery, even to the commander himself, were in rags, without pay, and deriving a mendicant subsistence from the monks. The want which pressed most heavily on the latter was that of the implements of agriculture and other labour; having, with true Spanish indolence, forborne any attempt to manufacture them in the country. The very source of all their acquisitions was thus threatened with extinction; yet still they adhered to their King, with a fidelity truly honourable had it been more disinterested:--but what could they expect from a change of government, except the limitations of their hitherto unbounded power?

In the discontent of the soldiers, however, smouldered a spark, dangerous to the power of the monks, which was suddenly blown into a flame by a circumstance that occurred a few years before our arrival.

The only pleasure for which the baptized Indians had ever been indebted to the monks was the possession of such baubles as our sailors use in traffic with the South Sea islanders. These things of course could no longer be obtained, and their loss was regarded by the new Christians as a heavy misfortune. Their despair at length broke out into insurrection: they burst their prisons, and attacked the dwellings of the monks, but retired before the fire of musketry. The military, with very little loss on their side, defeated great numbers of the natives, and brought them again into their previous subjection.

A new light dawned on the minds of the dragoons. What would have become of the monks without their valiant support? Elated by victory, and disregarding all the protestations of the ghostly fathers, whose feebleness and helplessness were now apparent, they declared themselves the first class in the country, and independent of Spain, which for so many years had abandoned them to their fate.

Similar causes produced similar effects in Old California, and each country now forms a separate republic.

Spain might with ease have retained these fertile provinces under allegiance. Had their fidelity received the smallest encouragement, it would probably never have been shaken; and California would have proved a most convenient support for the claims of the mother country on the revolutionized colonies, especially on Mexico, formerly the fertile source of Spanish wealth. The Philippines have not rebelled, and these rich islands could have afforded all the assistance the missions required. The neglect of California by Spain would almost seem to have been appointed by Providence, that the prosperity of the new States might suffer no interruption.

One immediate result of the independence of this colony is the opening of her ports to all nations, and the consequent impetus given to commerce. The North American States have been the first to make use of the privilege.

The exports of California now consist of corn, ox-hides, tallow, and the costly skins of the sea-otter. Some speculators have attempted a trade with China, but hitherto without success. A richly laden ship was entrusted to a North American captain for this purpose, who disposed of the cargo in China; but found it more convenient to retain both the money and ship for his own use, than to return to the owners.

The government of New California was on our present visit administered by Don Louis Arguello, the same young man with whom I became acquainted on my voyage in the Rurik, when he was commandant of the Presidio of St. Francisco. He resided at this time in Monterey, and employed himself in devising systems of government which should bring the heterogeneous ingredients of the new republic, dragoons, monks, and Indians, into order and unity.

May the destiny of the latter be ameliorated by the change! No Constitution has yet been established here; and Arguello's power, or perhaps ability, was inadequate to introducing that which he had proposed. Many changes are still necessary in the Californias before they can become the happy and flourishing countries for which Nature intended them.

On the morning after our arrival, I visited old Sanchez in the Presidio. He received me with unfeigned cordiality, and related to me many things which had taken place since my visit in the Rurik eight years ago. Don Louis, he said, had become a great man, and he himself a lieutenant, which here imports a considerable rank. Nevertheless, he disapproved of all the proceedings, and felt assured that no good could accrue from them. He would rather, he said, be a petty Spanish subject, than a republican officer of state.

The Presidio was in the same state in which I found it eight years before; and, except the republican flag, no trace of the important changes which had taken place was perceptible. Every thing was going on in the old, easy, careless way.

Sanchez at once promised to provide the ship daily with fresh meat, but advised me to send a boat to the mission of Santa Clara for a supply of vegetables, which were there to be had in superfluity. The Presidio had, with a negligence which would be inconceivable in any other country, omitted to cultivate even sufficient for their own consumption.

As I had not visited the mission of Santa Clara during my first visit to California, I now determined to proceed thither on the following day, in the long-boat. Sanchez provided a good pilot, and sent a courier overland to announce my arrival at the mission.

The bay of St. Francisco is full ninety miles in circuit: it is divided by islands into two pretty equally sized basins, a northern and a southern. On the banks of the southern, which takes an easterly direction, lie the three missions, St. Francisco, Santa Clara, and St. José. Of the northern half of the bay I will speak hereafter.

On the morning of the 28th of September, the Barcasse was ready, and equipped with every thing necessary for our little voyage. Favoured both by wind and tide, we sailed eastward past many charming islands and promontories, to the mission of Santa Clara, which lay at a distance of five-and-twenty miles, in a straight line from the ship. The country presented on all sides a picture of beauty and fertility: the shores are of a moderate elevation, and covered with a brilliant verdure; the hills, towards the interior, swell gently into an amphitheatre, and the background is formed by high thick woods. Groves of oaks are scattered upon the slopes, separated by lovely meadows, and forming more graceful and picturesque groups than I have ever seen as the produce of art. With very little trouble, the most luxuriant harvests might be reaped from this soil; but a happy and industrious population has not yet been established here, to profit from the prodigality of Nature. The death-like stillness of these beautiful fields is broken only by the wild animals which inhabit them; and as far as the eye can reach, it perceives no trace of human existence; not even a canoe is to be seen upon the surrounding waters, which are navigable for large vessels, and boast many excellent harbours;--the large white pelican with the bag under his bill, is the only gainer by the abundance of fish they produce. During the centuries of Spanish supremacy in California, even the exertion of procuring a net has been deemed too great. How abundantly and happily might thousands of families subsist here! and how advantageously might the emigrants to Brazil have preferred this spot for colonization! There, they have to struggle with many difficulties, are often oppressed by the government, and always suffer under a scorching sun. Here, they would have found the climate of the South of Germany, and a luxuriant soil, that would have yielded an ample recompense for the slightest pains bestowed upon it.

After a few hours' sail, we came to a deep creek opening to the right, and on its shores we perceived the mission of St. Francisco rising among wooded hills. The tide by this time had ebbed, the wind had died away, and we proceeded slowly by the aid of oars: this induced us, after rowing about fifteen miles, to land, at noon, on a pleasant little island. We made a blazing fire; and as every sailor understands something of cookery, a dinner was soon dressed, which eaten in the open air in beautiful weather, under the shade of spreading oaks, appeared excellent.

While the sailors were reposing, we examined the island. Its northern shore was tolerably high, and rose almost perpendicularly from the sea. Its soil, as that of all the country about the bay of St. Francisco, consists, under the upper mould, of a variegated slate; probably the foot of man had never before trodden it. But a short time since, no boat was to be found in the neighbourhood, and now each mission possesses only one large barge in which the reverend Fathers pass up and down the rivers that discharge themselves into the northern half of the bay, to seek among the Indians who are occasionally seen on their banks, for proselytes to recruit the ranks of their laborious subjects. The only canoes of the Indians are made of plaited reeds, in which they sit up to their hips in water. That no one has yet attempted to build even the simplest canoe in a country which produces a super-abundance of the finest wood for the purpose, is a striking proof of the indolence of the Spaniards, and the stupidity of the Indians.

Our island was surrounded by wild ducks and other sea-fowl; the white-headed eagle hovered too over the oaks, and seemed to be pursuing a very small species of hare, and a pretty partridge, of which there are great numbers.

We enjoyed for a few hours the recreation of the land, so welcome to sailors, and then continued our voyage with a favourable wind.

The sun was near the horizon when we approached the eastern shore of the bay. Here the water is no longer of sufficient depth to admit large vessels, and the face of the country assumes a different character. The mountains retire to a greater distance; extensive plains slope from the hills towards the water's edge, where they become mere swamps, intersected however by a variety of natural channels, by means of which, boats may run some distance inland. It was already growing dark as we entered these channels, where, even during daylight, the assistance of a good pilot is requisite to thread the intricacies of a navigation among thick reeds that grow to such a height in the marshes on both sides, as to exclude from view every object but the sky. Our sailors plied their oars vigorously; the channels became gradually narrower, and the banks drier; at length we heard human voices behind the reeds, and at midnight we reached the landing-place. A large fire had been lighted. Two dragoons and a few half-naked Indians, sent from the mission, were waiting our arrival, with saddle-horses intended for our use. As the mission was at the distance of a good hour's ride, the night was dark, and I was not inclined to trouble the repose of the monks, I determined to await the dawn of morning. Our small tents were presently pitched, several fires lighted, and the cooks set to work.

After our tedious row, (for, owing to the zigzag course we had been compelled to steer, we had passed over a distance of at least forty miles,) the camping out, in a beautiful night, was quite delightful. Although it was now the latter end of September, the air was as mild as with us during the warmest summer nights. Round our little encampment we heard an incessant barking, as of young dogs, proceeding from a species of wolf, which abounds throughout California; it is not larger than the fox; but is so daring and dexterous, that it makes no scruple of entering human habitations in the night, and rarely fails to appropriate whatever happens to suit it. This we ourselves experienced; for our provision of meat had not been sufficiently secured, and we found nothing in the morning but a gnawed and empty bag.

The rising sun announced the approach of a fine day, and gave us a view of the extensive plains which formed the surrounding country. The missionaries cultivated wheat upon them, which had been already harvested, and large flocks of cattle, horses, and sheep, were seen pasturing among the stubble. The mission of Santa Clara possesses fourteen thousand head of cattle, one thousand horses, and ten thousand sheep. The greater part of these animals being left to roam undisturbed about the woods, they multiply with amazing rapidity.

I now ordered the horses to be saddled, and we set off for the mission, the buildings and woods of which bounded the view over these prodigious corn-fields. Our way lay through the stubble, amongst flocks of wild geese, ducks, and snipes, so tame that we might have killed great numbers with our sticks. These are all birds of passage, spending the winter here, and the summer farther north. We fired a few shots among the geese, and brought down about a dozen: they differ but little in size from our domestic goose, and some of them are quite white. A ride of an hour and a half brought us to Santa Clara, where the monks received us in the most friendly manner, and exerted themselves most hospitably, to make our visit agreeable.

The mission, which was founded in the year 1777, is situated beside a stream of the most pure and delicious water, in a large and extremely fertile plain. The buildings of Santa Clara, overshadowed by thick groves of oaks, and surrounded by gardens which, though carelessly cultivated, produce an abundance of vegetables, the finest grapes, and fruits of all kinds, are in the same style as at all the other missions. They consist of a large stone church, a spacious dwelling-house for the monks, a large magazine for the preservation of corn, and the Rancherios, or barracks, for the Indians, of which mention has already been made. These are divided into long rows of houses, or rather stalls, where each family is allowed a space scarcely large enough to enable them to lie down to repose. We were struck by the appearance of a large quadrangular building, which having no windows on the outside, and only one carefully secured door, resembled a prison for state-criminals. It proved to be the residence appropriated by the monks, the severe guardians of chastity, to the young unmarried Indian women, whom they keep under their particular superintendence, making their time useful to the community by spinning, weaving, and similar occupations. These dungeons are opened two or three times a-day, but only to allow the prisoners to pass to and from the church. I have occasionally seen the poor girls rushing out eagerly to breathe the fresh air, and driven immediately into the church like a flock of sheep, by an old ragged Spaniard armed with a stick. After mass, they are in the same manner hurried back to their prisons. Yet, notwithstanding all the care of the ghostly fathers, the feet of some of these uninviting fair ones were cumbered with bars of iron, the penal consequence, as I was informed, of detected transgression. Only on their marriage are these cloistered virgins allowed to issue from their confinement and associate with their own people in the barracks.

Three times a-day a bell summons the Indians to their meals, which are prepared in large kettles, and served out in portions to each family. They are seldom allowed meat; their ordinary, and not very wholesome food, consisting of wheaten flour, maize, peas and beans, mixed together, and boiled to a thick soup.

The mission of Santa Clara contains fifteen hundred male Indians, of whom about one-half are married. All these men are governed by three monks, and guarded by four soldiers and a subaltern officer. Since this force is found sufficient, it follows either that the Indians of the mission are happier than their free countrymen, or that, no way superior to the domestic animals, they are chained by their instincts to the place where their food is provided. The first supposition can hardly be well founded. Hard labour every day, Sundays only excepted, when labour is superseded by prayer; corporal chastisement, imprisonment, and fetters on the slightest demonstration of disobedience; unwholesome nourishment, miserable lodging, deprivation of all property, and of all the enjoyments of life:--these are not boons which diffuse content. Many indeed of these unfortunate victims prove, by their attempts to escape, that their submission is involuntary; but the soldiers, as I have before observed, generally hunt them from their place of refuge, and bring them back to undergo the severe punishment their transgression has incurred. To the most stupid apathy, then, must the patience of these Indians be ascribed; and in this, their distinguishing characteristic, they exceed every race of men I have ever known, not excepting the degraded natives of Terra del Fuego, or Van Diemen's Land.

The Christian religion, or what the monks are pleased to call by that name, has given no beneficial spur to their minds. How indeed could it act upon their confined understandings, when their teachers were almost wholly deficient in the necessary means of communicating knowledge,--an acquaintance with their language? I have since had opportunities of observing the free Indians, who appear less stupid, and in many respects more civilized, than the proselytes of the _gente rationale_, as the Spaniards here call themselves; and I am convinced that the system of instruction and discipline adopted by the monks, has certainly tended to degrade even these step-children of Nature. If to raise them to the rank of intellectual beings had been really the object in view, rather than making them the mock professors of a religion they are incapable of understanding, they should have been taught the arts of agriculture and architecture, and the method of breeding cattle; they should have been made proprietors of the land they cultivated, and should have freely enjoyed its produce. Had this been done, _los barbaros_ might soon have stood on a level with the _gente rationale_.

There are in California many different races of Indians, whose languages vary so much from each other, as sometimes to have scarcely any resemblance; in the single mission of Santa Clara more than twenty languages are spoken. These races are all alike ugly, stupid, dirty, and disgusting: they are of a middle size, weak, and of a blackish colour; they have flat faces, thick lips, broad negro-noses, scarcely any foreheads, and black, coarse, straight hair. The powers of their mind lie yet profoundly dormant; and La Pérouse does not perhaps exaggerate when he affirms, that if any one among them can be made to comprehend that twice two make four, he may pass, in comparison with his countrymen, for a Descartes or a Newton. To most of them, this important arithmetical proposition would certainly be perfectly incomprehensible.

In their wild state, all these Indians lead a wandering life. It is only recently that they have begun to build huts of underwood, which they burn whenever they remove from the spot. The chase is their sole occupation and means of subsistence. Hence their skill in shooting with arrows has cost many Spanish lives. They lie in wait at night, in the forests and mountains, watching for game.

Agriculture, as I have before observed, is the copious source of revenue to the monks, and they farm on an extensive scale. The yearly crop of wheat at Santa Clara alone, produces three thousand fanegos, about six hundred and twenty English quarters, or three thousand four hundred Berlin bushels; and from the extraordinary fertility of the soil, the harvest, on an average, is forty-fold, notwithstanding the roughness of their mode of cultivation. The field is first broken up with a very clumsy plough, then sown, and a second ploughing completes the work. Under the hard clods of earth thus left undisturbed, a great part of the seed perishes of course. How unexampled would be the harvest, if assisted by the capital and industry of an European farmer!

The monks themselves confess that they are not good agriculturists; but they are content with their harvests. Their carelessness is however unpardonable, in having never yet erected a mill. There is not one in all California; and the poor Indians are obliged to grind their corn by manual labour between two large, flat stones.

From the mission we took half an hour's walk to a _Pueblo_. This word signifies, in California, a village, inhabited by married invalids, disbanded soldiers from the Presidio, and their progeny. This Pueblo lies in a beautiful spot. The houses are pleasant, built of stone, and stand in the midst of orchards, and hedges of vines bearing luxuriant clusters of the richest grapes. The inhabitants came out to meet us, and with much courteousness, blended with the ceremonious politeness of the Spaniards, invited us to enter their simple but cleanly dwellings. All their countenances bespoke health and contentment, and they have good cause to rejoice in their lot. Unburthened by taxes of any kind, and in possession of as much land as they choose to cultivate, they live free from care on the rich produce of their fields and herds.

The population of these Pueblos is every year on the increase; while, on the contrary, the numbers of the Indians dependent on the missions are continually decreasing. The mortality amongst the latter is so great, that the establishments could not continue, if their spiritual conductors did not constantly procure fresh recruits from amongst the free Indians, to fill the thinning ranks of their labourers.

In Old California, many of the missions have gone to decay on account of the total extermination of the savages. The north still affords an abundant supply to New California; but if the missionaries do not economize the lives of their men more than they have hitherto done, this source also will in time be exhausted. Meanwhile the Pueblos will continue to multiply, and will become the origins of a new and improved population.

After passing three days with the monks of Santa Clara, who at least possess the virtue of hospitality, we set out on our return with a provision of fruit and vegetables, purchased for very fair prices. They were carried to the place of embarkation on heavy and very badly constructed cars drawn by oxen: the wheels were made of thick planks nailed together, without any regard to mechanical science either in their form or poizing; and the machine slowly advanced with a difficult jolting motion very prejudicial to our fine melons, peaches, grapes, and figs, and to the magnificent apples, which have no equals in Europe. On reaching our Barcasse, we found all in readiness to receive ourselves and cargo. The sailors had been much disturbed in the night by the wolves.

The ebb-tide favoured our navigation, and soon brought us within sight of an arm of the sea, stretching eastward, at the extremity of which the mission of St. José was built in the year 1797, on a very fertile spot. It is already one of the richest in California, and a Pueblo has arisen in its neighbourhood; the only Pueblo on the Bay of St. Francisco, except that near Santa Clara. Between St. José and Santa Clara a road has lately been made which may be traversed on horseback in about two hours.

Soon after our return to the ship, a monk was observed riding along the shore in company with a dragoon, and making signs with his large hat, that he wished to come on board. We sent the boat for him, and a little, thin, lively, and loquacious Spaniard introduced himself as the Padre Thomas of the mission of St. Francisco, and offered, for a good remuneration, to furnish us daily with fresh provisions, besides two bottles of milk. He boasted not a little of being the only man in the whole Bay of St. Francisco who had succeeded, after overcoming many difficulties and obstacles, in obtaining milk from cows, of which he had a numerous herd. As the Presidio could not supply our wants, and the mission of Santa Clara lay too far off, we were very willing to accede to Padre Thomas's wish; and he left us with an invitation to visit him the following noon.

Accordingly, several of my officers and myself rode the next day to the mission of St. Francisco, which I have described in the account of my former voyage, and which has remained pretty much in the same state ever since. The jovial Father Thomas was now the only monk in the mission, and, consequently, at its head; he entertained us in a very friendly manner, and with considerable expense.

The repast consisted of a great number of dishes, strongly seasoned with garlic and pepper, and plenty of very tolerable wine of the Padre's own vintage; it was animated by music, partly the performance of some little naked Indian boys, upon bad fiddles, and partly of the venerable father himself on a barrel organ which stood near him. The fruits for the dessert were procured from the mission of Santa Clara, as the mists from the sea prevent their ripening at St. Francisco.

Some guns from the Presidio, fired with the powder that remained after returning our salute, one morning announced the arrival of Don Ignatio Martinez, the commandant, who, after the breaking up of the congress at Monterey, had returned to his post. With him came also the commandant of the Presidio St. Diego, Don José Maria Estudillo, whom I had before known. They visited me, accompanied by Sanchez, dined with me on board, and were so well entertained, that they did not take leave of us till late at night.