A New Voyage Round the World, in the years 1823, 24, 25, and 26, Vol. 2

by Otto von Kotzebue

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.

Indispensable business now summoned me to the establishment of the Russian-American Company called Ross, which lies about eighty miles north of St. Francisco. I had for some time been desirous of performing the journey by land, but the difficulties had appeared insurmountable. Without the assistance of the commandant, it certainly could not have been accomplished; I was therefore glad to avail myself of his friendly disposition towards me to make the attempt. We required a number of horses and a military escort; the latter to serve us at once as guides, and as a protection against the savages. Both these requests were immediately granted; and Don Estudillo himself offered to command our escort.

My companions on this journey were Dr. Eschscholz, Mr. Hoffman, two of my officers, two sailors, Don Estudillo, and four dragoons, making altogether a party of twelve. On the evening previous to the day for our departure, Estudillo came to the ship with his four dragoons, the latter well armed, and accoutred in a panoply of leather. He himself, in the old Spanish costume, with a heavy sword, still heavier spurs, a dagger and pistols in his belt, and a staff in his hand, was a good personification of an adventurer of the olden time. He assured us that we could not be too cautious, since we should pass through a part of the country inhabited by "los Indianos bravos:" we therefore also made a plentiful provision of arms, and were ready, as soon as the first beams of morning glimmered on the tops of the mountains, to set forward in our barcasse for the mission of St. Gabriel, lying on the northern shore of the bay, whence our land journey was to commence.

The weather was beautiful, the wind perfectly still, and the air enchantingly mild. An Indian named Marco, whom Estudillo had brought with him, served us as pilot; for the Spaniards here, incapable, either through indolence or ignorance, of discharging that office, always employ an experienced Indian at the helm.

Don Estudillo, although advanced in life, was a very cheerful companion, and one of the most enlightened Spaniards I have met with in California. He piqued himself a little on his literary acquirements, and mentioned having read three books besides Don Quixote and Gil Blas, whilst, as he assured me in confidence, the rest of his countrymen here had hardly ever seen any other book than the Bible. Marco had grown grey in the mission: on account of his usefulness, he had been in many respects better treated than most of the Indians: he spoke Spanish with tolerable fluency; and when Estudillo endeavoured to exercise his wit upon him, often embarrassed him not a little by his repartees. This Marco affords a proof that, under favourable circumstances, the minds even of the Indians of California are susceptible of improvement; but these examples are rare in the missions.

Don Estudillo spoke with much freedom of the affairs of California, where he had resided thirty years: like most of his comrades, he was no friend to the clergy. He accused them of consulting only their own interest, and of employing their proselytes as a means of laying up wealth for themselves, with which, when acquired, they return to Spain. He described to us their method of conversion. The monks, he said, send dragoons into the mountains to catch the free heathens, that they may convert them into Christian slaves. For this species of chase, the huntsman is provided with a strong leathern noose fastened to his saddle, long enough to throw to a great distance, and acquires such dexterity in the practice as seldom to miss his aim. As soon as he perceives a troop of Indians, he throws his noose over one of them before he has time to defend himself, then setting spurs to his horse, rides back to the mission with his prisoner, and is fortunate if he bring him there alive. I can myself bear witness to the skill and boldness of the dragoons, in the management of their horses, and in the use of the noose, with which two or three of them in conjunction will catch even bears and wild bulls; a single man is sufficient to capture an Indian.

Estudillo declared that no Indian ever presents himself voluntarily at the missions, but that they are all either hunted in the manner above described, or tricked out of their liberty by some artifice of the monks. For this purpose, some few in every mission are extremely well treated, as for instance our pilot Marco. These are from time to time sent into distant parts of the country to exert their eloquence on their countrymen, and entice them to the missions. Once there, they are immediately baptized, and they then become for ever the property of the monks.

To my observation, that affairs would now probably assume a different aspect, as the arbitrary dominion of the clergy, and the dependence of the military upon them were equally terminated, Estudillo replied, that California might certainly become a powerful state,—that she was abundantly provided by nature with all that was requisite to her political aggrandizement, but that she needed a man of ability in her councils. "Don Louis Arguello," said he, "is not the man to re-invigorate our radically disordered finances, to introduce a wholesome subordination, without which no government can flourish, and to establish a constitution upon which our future tranquillity and improvement may be founded. Our soldiers are all of one mind; whoever pays them the arrears due from the Spanish government is their master; he purchases them, and to him they belong. Induced by a knowledge of this disposition, Mexico has entered into negotiations with us; and the question whether California shall exist as an independent state, or place herself under the protection of another power, has been particularly discussed at the late congress at Monterey, and is still undecided."

I confess I could not help speculating upon the benefit this country would derive from becoming a province of our powerful empire, and how useful it would prove to Russia. An inexhaustible granary for Kamtschatka, Ochotsk, and all the settlements of the American Company; these regions, so often afflicted with a scarcity of corn, would derive new life from a close connection with California.

The sun rose in full magnificence from behind the mountain, at the moment when, emerging from between the islands which divide the northern from the southern half of the bay, an extensive mirror of water opened upon our view. The mission of St. Gabriel, the first stage of our journey, formed a distinguished object in the background of the prospect, sloping up the sides of the hills, the intervening flat land lying so low that it was not yet within our horizon. We had also a distant view towards the north-west of another newly founded mission, that of St. Francisco Salona, the only one situated on the northern shore of the bay except St. Gabriel.

The country at this side of the bay, chiefly characterised by gently swelling hills, the park-like grouping of the trees, and the lively verdure of the meadows, is as agreeable to the eye as that of the southern coast. The water is pure and wholesome, which that at the Presidio is not; we therefore laid in our ship's store here.

The whole Bay of St. Francisco, in which thousands of ships might lie at anchor, is formed by nature for an excellent harbour; but the little creeks about the north-west coast, now lying to our left, and which I have since frequently visited, are especially advantageous for repairs, being so deep that the largest vessels can lie conveniently close to the land; and an abundance of the finest wood for ship-building, even for the tallest masts, is found in the immediate neighbourhood. The whole of the northern part of the bay, which does not properly belong to California, but is assigned by geographers to New Albion, has hitherto remained unvisited by voyagers, and little known even to the Spaniards residing in the country. Two large navigable rivers, which I afterwards surveyed, empty themselves into it, one from the north, the other from the east. The land is extremely fruitful, and the climate is perhaps the finest and most healthy in the world. It has hitherto been the fate of these regions, like that of modest merit or humble virtue, to remain unnoticed; but posterity will do them justice; towns and cities will hereafter flourish where all is now desert; the waters, over which scarcely a solitary boat is yet seen to glide, will reflect the flags of all nations; and a happy, prosperous people receiving with thankfulness what prodigal Nature bestows for their use, will disperse her treasures over every part of the world.

A fresh and favourable wind brought us, without much delay from the opposing ebb-tide, to the northern shore. We left the common embouchure of its two principal rivers, distinguished by the steepness of their banks to the right, and rowing up the narrow channel which has formed itself through the marsh land, reached our landing-place just as the sun's disk touched the blue summits of the mountains in the west.

We were still distant a good nautical mile from the mission of St. Gabriel, which peeped from amongst the foliage of its ancient oaks. Many horses belonging to the mission were grazing on a beautiful meadow by the water-side, in perfect harmony with a herd of small deer, which are very numerous in this country. Our dragoons, who had no inclination for a long walk, took their lassos in hand, and soon caught us as many horses as we wanted. We had brought our saddles with us, and a delightful gallop across the plain carried us to St. Gabriel, where we were received in a very hospitable manner by the only monk in residence.

The locality of this mission, founded in 1816, is still better chosen than that of the celebrated Santa Clara. A mountain shelters it from the injurious north-wind; but the same mountain serves also as a hiding-place and bulwark for the Indianos bravos, who have already once succeeded in burning the buildings of the mission, and still keep the monks continually on the watch against similar depredations. In fact, St. Gabriel has quite the appearance of an outpost for the defence of the other missions.

The garrison, six men strong, is always ready for service on the slightest alarm. Having been driven from my bed at night by the vermin, I saw two sentinels, fully armed, keeping guard towards the mountain, each of them beside a large fire; every two minutes they rang a bell which was hung between two pillars, and were regularly answered by the howling of the little wolf I have before spoken of, as often lurking in the vicinity of the missions. That there is not much to fear from other enemies, is sufficiently proved by the small number of soldiers kept, and the total neglect of all regular means of defence. The courage of these bravos seems indeed principally to consist in unwillingness to be caught, in flying with all speed to their hiding-places when pursued, and in setting fire to any property of the missions when they can find an opportunity of doing so unobserved. We saw here several of these heroes working patiently enough with irons on their feet, and in no way distinguishable in manners or appearance from their brethren of St. Francisco or Santa Clara.

With the first rays of the sun we mounted our horses, and having passed the valley of St. Gabriel, and the hill which bounds it, our guide led us in a north-westerly direction further into the interior. The fine, light, and fertile soil we rode upon was thickly covered with rich herbage, and the luxuriant trees stood in groups as picturesque as if they had been disposed by the hand of taste. We met with numerous herds of small stags, so fearless, that they suffered us to ride fairly into the midst of them, but then indeed darted away with the swiftness of an arrow. We sometimes also, but less frequently, saw another species of stag, as large as a horse, with branching antlers; these generally graze on hills, from whence they can see round them on all sides, and appear much more cautious than the small ones. The Indians, however, have their contrivances to take them. They fasten a pair of the stag's antlers on their heads, and cover their bodies with his skin; then crawling on all-fours among the high grass, they imitate the movements of the creature while grazing; the herd, mistaking them for their fellows, suffer them to approach without suspicion, and are not aware of the treachery till the arrows of the disguised foes have thinned their number.

Towards noon the heat became so oppressive, that we were obliged to halt on the summit of a hill: we reposed under the shade of some thick and spreading oaks, while our horses grazed and our meal was preparing. During our rest, we caught a glimpse of a troop of Indians skulking behind some bushes at a distance; our dragoons immediately seized their arms, but the savages disappeared without attempting to approach us. In a few hours we proceeded on our journey, through a country, which presenting no remarkable object to direct our course, excited my astonishment at the local memory of our guide, who had traversed it but once before. Two great shaggy white wolves, hunting a herd of small deer, fled in terror on our appearance, and we had the gratification of saving the pretty animals for this time. In several places we saw little cylindrically-shaped huts of underwood, which appeared to have been recently quitted by Indians, and sometimes we even found the still glimmering embers of a fire; it is therefore probable that the savages were often close to us when we were not aware of it; but they always took care to conceal themselves from the much dreaded dragoons and their lassos.

In the evening we reached a little mountain brook, which, after winding through a ravine, falls into the sea at Port Romanzow, or Bodega. It was already dark, and though but ten miles distance from Ross, we were obliged to pass the chill and foggy night not very agreeably on this spot. In the morning we forded the shallow stream, and as we proceeded, found in the bold, wild features of the scene a striking difference from the smiling valleys through which we had travelled on the preceding day. The nearer we drew to the coast, the more abrupt became the precipices and the higher the rocks, which were overgrown with larch even to their peaked summits.

We wound round the bases of some hills, and having with much fatigue climbed other very steep ascents, reached towards noon a considerable height, which rewarded us with a magnificent prospect. Amongst the remarkable objects before us, the ocean stretched to the west, with the harbour of Romanzow, which unfortunately will only afford admission to small vessels; the Russian settlement here, can therefore never be as prosperous as it might have been, had circumstances permitted its establishment on the bay of St. Francisco. To the east, extending far inland, lay a valley, called by the Indians the Valley of the White Men. There is a tradition among them, that a ship was once wrecked on this coast; that the white men chose this valley for their residence, and lived there in great harmony with the Indians. What afterwards became of them is not recorded. On the north-east was a high mountain thickly covered with fir trees, from amongst which rose dark columns of smoke, giving evidence of Indian habitations. Our soldiers said that it was the abode of a chief and his tribe, whose valour had won the respect of the Spaniards; that they were of a distinct class from the common race of Indians; had fixed their dwellings on this mountain on account of its supposed inaccessibility; were distinguished for their courage, and preferred death to the dominion of the Missionaries, into whose power no one of them has ever yet been entrapped. Is it not possible that they may owe their superiority to having mingled their race with that of the shipwrecked whites?

Our road now lay sometimes across hills and meadows, and sometimes along the sands so near the ocean that we were sprinkled by its spray. We passed Port Romanzow, and soon after forded the bed of another shallow river to which the Russians have given the name of Slavianka. Farther inland it is said to be deeper, and even navigable for ships; its banks are extremely fertile, but peopled by numerous warlike hordes. It flows hither from the north-east; and the Russians have proceeded up it a distance of a hundred wersts, or about sixty-seven English miles.

The region we now passed through was of a very romantic though wild character; and the luxuriant growth of the grass proved that the soil was rich. From the summit of a high hill, we at length, to our great joy, perceived beneath us the fortress of Ross, to which we descended by a tolerably convenient road. We spurred our tired horses, and excited no small astonishment as we passed through the gate at a gallop. M. Von Schmidt, the governor of the establishment, received us in the kindest manner, fired some guns to greet our arrival on Russian-American ground, and conducted us into his commodious and orderly mansion, built in the European fashion with thick beams.

The settlement of Ross, situated on the sea-shore, in latitude 38° 33', and on an insignificant stream, was founded in the year 1812, with the free consent of the natives, who were very useful in furnishing materials for the buildings and even in their erection.

The intention in forming this settlement was to pursue the chase of the sea-otter on the coast of California, where the animal was then numerous, as it had become extremely scarce in the more northern establishments. The Spaniards who did not hunt them, willingly took a small compensation for their acquiescence in the views of the Russians; and the sea-otter, though at present scarce even here, is more frequently caught along the Californian coast, southward from Ross, than in any other quarter. The fortress is a quadrangle, palisaded with tall, thick beams, and defended by two towers which mount fifteen cannons. The garrison consisted, on my arrival, of a hundred and thirty men, of whom a small number only were Russians, the rest Aleutians.

The Spaniards lived at first on the best terms with the new settlers, and provided them with oxen, cows, horses, and sheep; but when in process of time they began to remark that, notwithstanding the inferiority of soil and climate, the Russian establishment became more flourishing than theirs, envy, and apprehension of future danger, took possession of their minds: they then required that the settlement should be abandoned,—asserted that their rights of dominion extended northward quite to the Icy Sea, and threatened to support their claims by force of arms.

The founder and then commander of the fortress of Ross, a man of penetration, and one not easily frightened, gave a very decided answer. He had, he said, at the command of his superiors, settled in this region, which had not previously been in the possession of any other power, and over which, consequently, none had a right but the natives; that these latter had freely consented to his occupation of the land, and therefore that he would yield to no such unfounded pretension as that now advanced by the Spaniards, but should be always ready to resist force by force.

Perceiving that the Russians would not comply with their absurd requisitions, and considering that they were likely to be worsted in an appeal to arms, the Spaniards quietly gave up all further thought of hostilities, and entered again into friendly communications with our people; since which the greatest unity has subsisted between the two nations. The Spaniards often find Ross very serviceable to them. For instance, there is no such thing as a smith in all California; consequently the making and repairing of all manner of iron implements here is a great accommodation to them, and affords lucrative employment to the Russians. The dragoons who accompanied us, had brought a number of old gunlocks to be repaired.

In order that the Russians might not extend their dominion to the northern shore of the Bay of St. Francisco, the Spaniards immediately founded the missions of St. Gabriel and St. Francisco Salona. It is a great pity that we were not beforehand with them. The advantages of possessing this beautiful bay are incalculable, especially as we have no harbour but the bad one of Bodega or Port Romanzow.

The inhabitants of Ross live in the greatest concord with the Indians, who repair, in considerable numbers, to the fortress, and work as day-labourers, for wages. At night they usually remain outside the palisades. They willingly give their daughters in marriage to Russians and Aleutians; and from these unions ties of relationship have arisen which strengthen the good understanding between them. The inhabitants of Ross have often penetrated singly far into the interior, when engaged in the pursuit of deer or other game, and have passed whole nights among different Indian tribes, without ever having experienced any inconvenience. This the Spaniards dare not venture upon. The more striking the contrast between the two nations in their treatment of the savages, the more ardently must every friend to humanity rejoice on entering the Russian territory.

The Greek Church does not make converts by force. Free from fanaticism, she preaches only toleration and love. She does not even admit of persuasion, but trusts wholly to conviction for proselytes, who, when once they enter her communion, will always find her a loving mother. How different has been the conduct both of Catholic priests and Protestant missionaries!

The climate at Ross is mild. Reaumur's thermometer seldom falls to the freezing point; yet gardens cannot flourish, on account of the frequent fogs. Some wersts farther inland, beyond the injurious influence of the fog, plants of the warmest climates prosper surprisingly. Cucumbers of fifty pounds' weight, gourds of sixty-five, and other fruits in proportion, are produced in them. Potatoes yield a hundred or two hundred fold, and, as they will produce two crops in a year, are an effectual security against famine. The fortress is surrounded by wheat and barley fields, which, on account of the fogs, are less productive than those of Santa Clara, but which still supply sufficient corn for the inhabitants of Ross. The Aleutians find their abode here so agreeable, that although very unwilling to leave their islands, they are seldom inclined to return to them.

The Spaniards should take a lesson in husbandry from M. Von Schmidt, who has brought it to an admirable degree of perfection. Implements, equal to the best we have in Europe, are made here under his direction. Our Spanish companions were struck with admiration at what he had done; but what astonished them most, was the effect of a windmill; they had never before seen a machine so ingenious, and so well adapted to its purpose.

Ross is blest with an abundance of the finest wood for building. The sea provides it with the most delicious fish, the land with an inexhaustible quantity of the best kinds of game; and, notwithstanding the want of a good harbour, the northern settlements might easily find in this a plentiful magazine for the supply of all their wants. Two ships had already run in here from Stapel.

The Indians of Ross are so much like those of the missions, that they may well be supposed to belong to the same race, however different their language. They appear indeed by no means so stupid, and are much more cheerful and contented than at the missions, where a deep melancholy always clouds their faces, and their eyes are constantly fixed upon the ground; but this difference is only the natural result of the different treatment they experience. They have no permanent residence, but wander about naked, and, when not employed by the Russians as day-labourers, follow no occupation but the chase. They are not difficult in the choice of their food, but consume the most disgusting things, not excepting all kinds of worms and insects, with good appetite, only avoiding poisonous snakes. For the winter they lay up a provision of acorns and wild rye: the latter grows here very abundantly. When it is ripe, they burn the straw away from it, and thus roast the corn, which is then raked together, mixed with acorns, and eaten without any farther preparation. The Indians here have invented several games of chance: they are passionately fond of gaming, and often play away every thing they possess. Should the blessing of civilization ever be extended to the rude inhabitants of these regions, the merit will be due to the Russian settlements, certainly not to the Spanish missions.

After a stay of two days, we took leave of the estimable M. Von Schmidt, and returned by the same way that we came, without meeting with any remarkable occurrence. Professor Eschscholtz remained at Ross, in order to prosecute some botanical researches, intending to rejoin us by means of an Aleutian baidar, several of which were shortly to proceed to St. Francisco in search of otters. This promised chase was a gratifying circumstance to me, as I had it in contemplation to examine several of the rivers that fall into the Bay of St. Francisco, for which purpose the small Aleutian vessels would probably prove extremely serviceable. The north-west wind is prevalent here during summer, and rain is unknown in that season: it was now, however, the latter end of October, and southerly gales began to blow, accompanied by frequent showers; we had therefore to wait some time for the baidars and Professor Eschscholtz. Meanwhile, to our great surprise, a boat with six oars, one day, entered the bay from the open sea, and lay to beside our ship. It belonged to an English whaler, which had been tacking about for some days, and was prevented by the contrary wind from getting into the bay. The greater part of his crew being sick of the scurvy, the captain at length resolved on sending his boat ashore, in hopes of being able to get some fresh provisions for his patients. I immediately furnished the boat with an ample supply both of fresh meat and vegetables, and having completed its little cargo, it proceeded again to sea forthwith. The next day the whaler succeeded in getting into the bay, and came to anchor close alongside. It was evident, from their manner of working the vessel, that she had but few hands on board capable of labour. The captain, who shortly afterwards visited me, was himself suffering severely, and his mates were all confined to their beds; seven months the vessel had been at sea off the Japanese coast, holding no communication with the shore; and this without having succeeded in the capture of a single whale, though numbers of them had been seen on the coast. The scurvy with which the crew was afflicted, was mainly attributable to unwholesome food, selected on a principle of unpardonable economy, and to the want of cleanliness; a vice not usual among the English, but which, during so long an absence from land, is scarcely to be avoided; not the slightest symptom of this fearful malady, formerly so fatal to seamen, manifested itself on board my vessel throughout the whole course of our tedious voyage.

The captain informed me that a number of whalers frequented the Japanese coast, and often obtained rich cargoes in a short period: the principal disadvantages with which they had to contend were violent storms, and a strict prohibition against landing. The Japanese, as is well known, refuse to have any foreign intercourse except with the Chinese and Dutch, and treat all other nations as if they carried contagion with them; hoping thus to preserve their ancient manners unchanged. During my first voyage with Admiral Krusenstern, I spent seven months in Japan, and may venture to assert, that whoever has an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the people, cannot but respect them for the high degree of intellectual development to which they have attained, through their own efforts, unassisted by foreign influence. Their total isolation is probably owing to the timid policy of a despotic government, anxious to prevent the introduction of ideas that might possibly exercise a hostile influence upon the existing institutions.

A whaler that had exceeded his appointed stay on the coast, had completely exhausted his stock of water and provisions. In this distress, although fully aware of the severe prohibition, the captain resolved to pay a visit to the Emperor in his capital, and accordingly, without ceremony, sailed into the Bay of Jeddo, where he cast anchor within gun-shot of the city. The hubbub among the inhabitants, who had never seen an European vessel before, may be imagined. The shore immediately swarmed with soldiers, and armed boats surrounded the ship. From these martial preparations, the crew apprehended that it was intended to make them pay for their temerity with their lives; but their fears proved unfounded. As soon as the Japanese had taken the necessary precautions to prevent the vessel either from leaving the spot where she had first anchored, or from sending a boat on shore, a handsome barge came alongside, from which two Bonjoses, dressed in silk, and each armed with two sabres, stepped on board: they were accompanied by an interpreter who spoke a little broken Dutch. They saluted the captain politely, inquiring the object of his visit, and whether he was not aware that the coast of Japan was not accessible under pain of death? The captain acknowledged himself aware of the prohibition, but stated that the emergency of the case had left him no choice: the Bonjoses thereupon searched the vessel, and having satisfied themselves that she was really destitute of provisions and water, they took leave of the captain with the same civility they had shown him on their arrival. A multitude of boats with persons of both sexes now issued from the city, to feast their eyes upon the novel spectacle, but they were not allowed to approach within the circle marked by the watch-boats. The same day, the interpreter returned, bringing water and every species of provisions, sufficient for several weeks, declaring that the Emperor furnished every thing gratuitously, as the government would deem it a disgrace to accept payment from those whom distress had driven to their shore; but as the captain's necessities were now provided for, he was ordered immediately to put to sea, and to inform his countrymen, that except in cases of the most urgent necessity, they were not permitted to approach the Japanese coast under pain of death; nor was it at all just to carry on a fishery on their coast, without the permission of the Emperor. The interpreter had brought a number of people with him, who assisted in shipping the provisions and water: the captain was then immediately obliged to weigh anchor, and the Japanese boats towed the vessel out to sea, after she had been scarcely twelve hours in the bay. On taking leave, the captain wished to make a present to the interpreter, but he hastened out of the vessel in alarm, declaring that his acceptance of the smallest trifle would cost him his head. Europeans are not so scrupulous.

Soon after this, another whaler, knowing nothing about the affair in Jeddo, sent a boat ashore, a hundred miles farther south, to a little village on the coast, to try and purchase some fresh provisions. The sailors, on landing, were immediately seized and imprisoned, and their boat placed under arrest. The ship, having waited a long time in vain for the return of her boat, was at length driven by a violent storm to a distance from the coast. The prisoners were well treated; their prison was commodious, and their food excellent. In fourteen days, sentence was pronounced on them, probably at Jeddo, and proved less mild than might have been expected in Japan:—they were ordered to be replaced in their boat, and immediately sent to sea without any provisions, let the weather be what it might. After wandering on the trackless ocean for eight-and-forty hours, they had the good fortune to meet with a whaler, which took them in. These examples may serve as a warning to all navigators who may be desirous of effecting a landing in Japan.

The Californian winter being now fairly set in, we had much rain and frequent storms. On the 9th of October the south-west wind blew with the violence of the West-Indian tornado, rooted up the strongest trees, tore off the roofs of the houses, and occasioned great devastation in the cultivated lands. One of our thickest cables broke; and if the second had given way, we would have been driven on the rocky shore of the channel which unites the bay with the sea, where a powerful current struggling with the tempest produced a frightful surf. Fortunately, the extreme violence of the storm lasted only a few hours, but in that short time it caused a destructive inundation: the water spread so rapidly over the low lands, that our people had scarcely time to secure the tent, with the astronomical apparatus. On comparing the time of day at St. Petersburg and St. Francisco, by means of the difference of longitude, it appears that the tremendous inundation at the former city took place not only on the same day, but even began in the same hour as that in California. Several hundred miles westward, on the Sandwich Islands, the wind raged with similar fury at the same time, as it did also still farther off, upon the Philippine Islands, where it was accompanied by an earthquake. So violent was the storm in the Bay of Manilla, (usually so safe a harbour,) that a French corvette, at anchor there, under the command of Captain Bougainville, a son of the celebrated navigator, was entirely dismasted, as we afterwards heard, on the Sandwich Islands, and at Manilla itself. This hurricane, therefore, raged at the same time over the greatest part of the northern hemisphere; the causes which produced it may possibly have originated beyond our atmosphere.

Finding that our anchorage would not be secure during the winter, if we should be exposed to storms of this kind, we took advantage of the fine weather on the following day, to sail some miles farther eastward, into a little bay surrounded by a romantic landscape, where Vancouver formerly lay, and which is perfectly safe at all seasons: the Spaniards have named this bay Herba buena, after a sweet-smelling herb which grows on its shores.

The arrival of Dr. Eschscholtz and the baidars from Ross was still delayed, and I really began to fear that some misfortune had befallen them in the tempest: my joy therefore was extreme, when at last, on the 12th of October, the baidars, twenty in number, entered the harbour undamaged, and we received our friend again safe and well. The little flotilla had indeed left Ross before the commencement of the hurricane, but had fortunately escaped any injury from it, by taking refuge at a place called Cap de los Reges, till its fury was expended; but the voyagers had been obliged to bivouack on the naked rock, without shelter from the weather, and with very scanty provisions. Dr. Eschscholtz, however, not in the slightest degree disheartened by the difficulties he had undergone, was quite ready to join the voyage I had meditated for the examination of the adjacent rivers.

All our preparations were now completed; we again took on board our pilot Marco, and a soldier from the Presidio, who offered to accompany us. On the 18th of November the weather was favourable, and we set out with a barcasse and a shallop, both well manned and provided with every necessary, in company with the Aleutian flotilla. At first we took the same course I have before described, towards the mission of St. Gabriel; cutting through the waters of the southern basin, and working our way between the islands into the northern portion of the bay; then adopting an easterly course, so that St. Gabriel remained at a considerable distance to the left in the north-east. We reached towards noon, at a distance of thirty miles from our ship, the common mouth of the two before-mentioned rivers, which here fall into the bay.

The breadth of this embouchure is a mile and a half, and the banks on both sides are high, steep, and little wooded. It is crossed by a shallow, not above two or three feet deep; but on its east side the channel will admit ships of a middling size fully laden. The current was so strong against us, that it was with much exertion our rowers accomplished crossing the shallow. We landed on the left bank in order to determine the geographical position of the mouth, and found the latitude 38° 2' 4", and the longitude 122° 4'. After finishing this task, I ascended the highest hillock on the shore, which consisted of strata of slate and quartz, to admire the beauty of the prospect. On the south lay the enviable and important Bay of St. Francisco with its many islands and creeks; to the north flowed the broad beautiful river formed by the junction of the two, sometimes winding between high, steep rocks, sometimes gliding among smiling meadows, where numerous herds of deer were grazing. In every direction the landscape was charming and luxuriant. Our Aleutians here straggled about in their little baidars, and pursued the game with which land and water were stocked: they had never seen it in such plenty; and being passionately fond of the chase, they fired away without ceasing, and even brought down some of the game with a javelin. The Aleutians are as much at home in their little leathern canoes, as our Cossacks on horseback. They follow their prey with the greatest rapidity in all directions, and it seldom escapes them. White and grey pelicans about twice the size of our geese were here in great numbers. An Aleutian followed a flock of these birds, and killed one of them with his javelin; the rest of the flock took this so ill, that they attacked the murderer and beat him severely with their wings, before other baidars could come to his assistance. The frequent appearance of the pelican on this river, proves that it abounds in fish; a remark that our pilot Marco confirmed; and we ourselves saw many large fish leap to the surface of the water.

When the sailors had rested some hours, we continued our voyage up the stream; but it was ebb-tide, and both currents united allowed us to make but little progress. We landed therefore at six o'clock, after working only a few miles, and pitched our tents for the night in a pretty meadow. The river flowing as before, from the north, was here a mile broad, and deep enough for the largest ships.

On the following morning we broke up our camp at break of day, and, favoured by wind and tide, sailed swiftly forward in a direction almost due north. The aspect of the river now frequently changed: its breadth varied from one to two and three miles. We often came into large reaches many miles in circumference, and surrounded by magnificent scenery. We sailed past pretty hilly islands adorned with lofty spreading trees, and every where found a sufficient depth of water to admit the largest ships. The steep banks sometimes opened to delightful plains, where the deer were grazing under the shadow of luxuriant oaks. The voyage was in fact, even at this time of year, a most agreeable excursion.

When we had proceeded eighteen miles from our night camp, and twenty-three from the river's mouth, we reached the confluence of the two streams. One flows from the east, and the other from the north. The Spaniards call the first Pescadores; farther inland it receives two other rivers, which, according to our pilot, are equally broad and deep as itself: the missionaries have given them the names of St. Joachim, and Jesus Maria. Some way up these rivers, whose banks are said to have been uncommonly fertile and thickly peopled, the pious fathers have journeyed to convert the Indians and procure labourers for the missions. Now that a part of the natives have yielded to conversion, and others have fled farther into the interior to escape it, no human being is to be found in the tract of land which we were surveying; no trace remains of a numerous race called Korekines, by whom it was once inhabited. Since the river Pescadores was already known, I chose the other, which flows from the north, and is called Sacramento. Towards noon, after we had ascended it some miles, a violent contrary wind forced us ashore; latitude 38° 22'.

The wind increasing every moment in strength, we were obliged to give up for this day all thoughts of making farther progress; and resolving to pass the night here, pitched our tents in a pleasant meadow on the west side of the river. I then climbed a hill, to enjoy a more extensive prospect; and observed that the country to the west swelled into hills of a moderate height, besprinkled with trees growing singly. In the east and south-east the horizon was bounded by icy mountains, the Sierra Nevada, part of the immense chain which divides America from north to south: they appeared to be covered more than half-way down with ice and snow. The distance of these mountains from my present station could not be less than forty miles. Between them and the river the country is low, flat, thickly wooded, and crossed by an infinite number of streams, which divide the whole of it into islands. We had not yet met a single Indian; but the columns of smoke which rose from this abundantly irrigated tract of land, showed that they had taken refuge where the dragoons and their lassos could not follow to convert them.

It seems certain that the river Pescadores, as well as those of St. Joachim and Jesus Maria, which fall into it, take their rise in the icy mountains, since they flow from the east, and pass through the low lands, where they receive a multitude of smaller streams. On the contrary, the river Sacramento flowing from the north, from quite another region, has its source, according to the Indians of the mission, in a great lake. I myself conjecture, that the Slavianka, which falls into the sea near Ross, is an arm of it.

The many rivers flowing through this fruitful country will be of the greatest use to future settlers. The low ground is exactly adapted to the cultivation of rice; and the higher, from the extraordinary strength of the soil, would yield the finest wheat-harvests. The vine might be cultivated here to great advantage. All along the banks of the river grapes grow wild, in as much profusion as the rankest weeds: the clusters were large; and the grapes, though small, very sweet, and agreeably flavoured. We often ate them in considerable quantities, and sustained no inconvenience from them. The Indians also eat them very voraciously.

The chase furnished us with ample and profitable amusement. An abundance of deer, large and small, are to be met with all over the country, and geese, ducks, and cranes, on the banks of the rivers. There was such a superfluity of game, that even those among us who had never been sportsmen before, when once they took the gun in their hands, became as eager as the rest. The sailors chased the deer very successfully.

When it grew dark, we kindled a large fire, that our hunters, some of whom had lost their way, might recover the camp. In the night we were much disturbed by bears, which pursued the deer quite close to our tents; and by the clear moonlight we plainly saw a stag spring into the river to escape the bear; the latter, however, jumped after him, and both swam down the stream till they were out of sight.

At sunrise, as the wind had fallen a little, we continued our voyage. On the shore we met with a small rattlesnake, which might have been a dangerous neighbour. It was, however, his destiny to become our prize, and enrich the collection of Dr. Eschscholtz. The river now took a north-westerly direction. Its breadth was from two hundred and fifty to three hundred fathoms, independently of numerous branches on the east side, flowing between various small islands. The country on the west bank was of a moderate height; that on the east was low. The power of the current impeded our progress, though our rowers exerted all their strength. As the sun advanced towards the meridian, the north wind also rose again; so that with our utmost efforts we could advance but little, and at noon we were obliged to lay-to again, having proceeded only ten miles the whole day. The latitude on the western shore, where we now landed, was 38° 27', and the longitude 122° 10'.

Here we had reached what proved the termination of our little voyage. The unfavourable state of the weather would not allow of our making any farther progress; and our pilot assured us that at this season the quantity of rain that falls, so much swells the river and strengthens the currents, as to make it impossible to contend with the continually increasing force of the stream. We were therefore compelled to abandon the farther prosecution of these inquiries to some future traveller, whose fate shall lead him hither in summer time, when these obstacles do not exist.

The neighbourhood of our landing-place seemed to have been recently the abode of some Indians. We found a stake driven into the earth, to which a bunch of feathers was attached for a weather-cock; in several places fire had been kindled, as some burning embers still attested. There were also two Indian canoes made of reeds. The pilot gave me the names of two tribes who had formerly dwelt in this region, and probably still wandered in its vicinity—the Tschupukanes, and Hulpunes. We could now see the smoke of their fires rising from the marshy islands, the higher parts of which they inhabit.

The majestic chain of mountains of the Sierra Nevada looked most beautiful from this spot. The whole eastern horizon was bounded by these masses of ice, and before them the low land lay spread out like a verdant sea. From the Bay of St. Francisco, the Sierra Nevada are nowhere visible; but they first come in sight after having passed the point where the Pescadores and the Sacramento unite.

The day was again passed in sport, and we shot many stags, the meat of which proved extremely good. During the night we were again disturbed by the little wolves so common here: they stole some pieces of our venison. Early the next morning we prepared for our return, and soon quitted these lovely and fertile plains, where many thousand families might live in plenty and comfort, but which now, from their utter loneliness, leave a mournful impression on the mind, increased by the reflection that the native Indians have been nearly exterminated. During our return voyage, we were very diligent in taking soundings, and found the water in the middle of the river always as much as from fifteen to seventeen and twenty fathoms; but at its mouth not more than four or five fathoms deep.

On the 23rd of November we again reached our vessel, laden with venison for the whole crew. Captain Lasaref had arrived during our absence with his frigate; having struggled with storms almost the whole way from New Archangel to St. Francisco. With the intention of sending letters home by him, I had waited for his arrival to leave California. Our vessel was therefore now immediately prepared for sailing, our camp on shore broken up, and all the instruments brought on board. During the last night our people passed on land, they killed a polecat which had slunk into the tent. This animal, of the size and form of an ordinary cat, has so abominable a smell, that its vicinity is insupportable. Dogs, when they sometimes attack and bite these creatures, cannot relieve themselves from the stench, but continue to rub their noses so violently against the ground as they run, that they leave a stream of blood on their track. Polecats may be considered in the brute creation what the Kalushes are among men.

On the morning of the 25th of November, as soon as the tide ebbed, we towed out of the Bay of St. Francisco with a north-west wind, which here regularly brings fine weather. The sea was still so much agitated by the recent south-west storms, that it rolled large billows into the channel which unites it with the bay. Our vessel being dashed against these breakers by the force of the current from the channel, would no longer obey the helm, and we narrowly escaped being cast against a rock. I would therefore recommend others of my profession only to sail out of this bay when the water in the channel is tranquil, which usually happens after the wind has blown for several days from the north-west.

According to repeated observations, we found the latitude of the Presidio of St. Francisco to be 37° 48' 33", and the longitude 122° 22' 30". The declination of the needle was 16° east.

The medium of our observations in the bay gave us the time for high water, at the new and full moon, 11 hours and 20 minutes.

The greatest difference in the height of the water was seven feet. The rivers which fall into the bay have a great influence on the times of ebb and flow, so that the ebb lasts eight hours, and the flood only four.

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THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

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