Miguel slowly spelled off the detested Yankee name, Jedediah S. Smith, from a slip of cartridge paper in his bolsa. Glory be to the name of Smith!
"Where THAT one Yankee found a way, more will come, but we will meet and fight them. This is our OWN land by the right of discovery. The good King Philip II. of Spain rightfully claimed this (from his orders to Viceroy Monterey in 1596). We get our town name here in his honor. We will fight the English, and these accursed Yankees. They have no right to be here. This is our home," cried fiery Miguel, as he pledged the hospitable Governor. He passed out into the dreaming, starry night. As he listened to the waves softly breaking on the sandy beach, he thought fondly of Juanita Castro. He fumbled over the countersign as the sentinel presented his old flint-lock musket.
Both Governor and Captain sought the repose of their Spartan pillows. The Captain forgot, in his zeal for Spanish dominion, that daring Sir Francis Drake, in days even then out of the memory of man, piloted the "Golden Hind" into Drake's Bay. He landed near San Francisco in 1578, and remained till the early months of 1579. Under the warrant of "good Queen Bess" he landed, and set up a pillar bearing a "fair metal plate" with a picture of that antiquated but regal coquette. He nailed on the pillar a "fair struck silver five-pence," saluting the same with discharge of culverins, much hearty English cheer and nautical jollity. The land was English—by proscription.
Sir Francis, gallant and courtly, was, like many travellers, as skilful at drawing the long bow as in wielding the rapier. He was not believed at home.
Notwithstanding, he tarried months and visited the inland Indians, bringing home many objects of interest, announcing "much gold and silver," his voyage was vain. His real discovery was deemed of no practical value. The robust Indians swarmed in thousands, living by the watersides in huts, wearing deerskin cloaks and garments of rushes. Hunters and fishers were they. They entertained the freebooter, and like him have long since mouldered to ashes. Along the Pacific Coast great mounds of shells, marking their tribal seaside feasts, are now frequently unearthed. Their humble history is shadowed by the passing centuries. They are only a memory, a shadow on Time's stream. Good Queen Bess sleeps in the stately fane of Westminster. Sir Francis's sword is rusted. The "brazen plate" recording that date and year is of a legendary existence only. "Drake's Bay" alone keeps green the memory of the daring cruiser. Even in one century the Spanish, Russian, Mexican, and American flags successively floated over the unfrequented cliffs of California. Two hundred years before, the English ensign kissed the air in pride, unchallenged by the haughty Spaniard.
Miguel Peralta was happy. He had invited all the officials to attend the nuptials by the Golden Gate. Venus was in the ascendant. The red planet of Mars had set, he hoped, forever. The officers and gentry contemplated a frolicsome ride around the Salinas bend, over the beautiful passes to Santa Clara valley and the town of Yerba Buena.
Peralta's marriage was an excuse for general love making. A display of all the bravery of attire and personal graces of man and maid was in order.
The soldier drifted into the land of dreams haunted by Juanita Castro's love-lit eyes and rare, shy smile. No vision disturbed him of the foothold gained in Oregon by the Yankees. They sailed past the entrance of San Francisco Bay, on the Columbia, in 1797, but they found the great river of the northwest. They named it after their gallant bark, said to be the legal property of one General Washington of America.
The echoes of Revolutionary cannon hardly died away before the eagle-guided Republic began to follow the star of empire to the Occident.
Had the listless mariners seen that obscured inlet of the Golden Gate, they had never braved the icy gales of the Oregon coast. Miguel Peralta's broad acres might have had another lord. Bishop Berkeley's prophecy was infallible. A fatal remissness seemed to characterize all early foreign adventure on Californian coasts.