 Chapter 33. A History of California of the Spanish Period. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 33. Era of the Wars of Independence, 1810-1822. Alta California was one of the few regions now part of the United States which had an active share in the Spanish-American Wars of Independence. Alta California's military participation was limited to one brief naval attack of some insurgent ships, but even this is not without historical interest. It will be a surprise to many to know that the flag of Argentina, or Buenos Aires as it was then more commonly called, was once raised at Monterey. For a moment it was at least possible that Alta California might free itself from its political connection with Spain and become one of the many independent republics of Hispanic America. Fortunately for the present occupants of the territory, Alta California was loyal to the mother country. In the main the people of the province were ignorant of the reach and importance of the series of wars which were being fought throughout the Americas. They received but little news and were constantly under the impression that the revolts were nearly over. They never doubted that the king would win. Down to 1818 they themselves were not called upon to take part in the struggle, but from the very first they suffered on account of it. After 1810 the supply ships ceased coming for a number of years and never again resumed their former annual schedule. The salaries of both missionaries and soldiers stopped with them. This occasioned a changed basis in the life of the settlements which was to foster the movement that eventually brought about the American occupation. Illicit trade took to place that the Sambla ships had previously filled as the cornerstone in the edifice of provincial economy. Much of this, indeed, was with the expressed assent of superior authority, especially in the case more or less frequent vessels from Peru, which brought various effects in exchange for tallow. But there was also a considerable trade with Russian and American boats and with a Russian colony at Fort Ross. Altacalifornia gave food supplies in exchange for manufactured articles. For the purposes of this trade the missions were best off by far as they had the largest crops and flocks. The pueblos and a few of the ranch owners possessed something, but the prosidios had practically nothing to sell at the same time that the soldiers were without pay. In this emergency the wealth of the missions was utilized to save the province. Levies of tallow and food products were made on them in exchange for drafts on the Spanish Treasury. This gave the military something they might use in trade with the foreign ships. The missionaries on the whole gave freely. They indeed had a great stake in the success of the King, since victory for the Mexican Revolutionaries meant an end to the missions and they stood in absolute need of the soldiers. At times, however, they were grudging in their offerings, granting only so much as was barely necessary. Since they, too, were without their usual stipend from the King's coffers, it is not surprising that they did not relish this additional drain on their resources. As for the drafts on the Spanish Treasury, they were never honored. The soldiers at the prosidios were very bitter against the missionaries, however. When their own families were in rags, they remarked the comparative plenty of the missions. In this period, therefore, there was a beginning of that agitation which was to end a few years later in the secularization of the missions. In addition to the Russian and American contacts with the province and the activities of the Spaniards in Indian warfare and interior exploration, there was little of note that occurred prior to the year of the insurgents in 1818. In 1812 there was a terrific earthquake which destroyed San Juan Capistrano Mission to the accompaniment of a loss of some 40 lives. In 1814 Governor Ariaga died, and José Darío Arguello succeeded him temporarily. Arguello was a native Carretero, New Spain, who had worked his way up from the ranks in the army to the governorship of a province. He came to Alta California with the Rivera Expedition of 1781, being attached, luckily for himself, to that part of the command which went on ahead from the Yuma Junction. He was much the same type of man and ruler as Ariaga but was, if anything, more pious and also very popular. His greatest distinction, perhaps, is that he was the father of Concepción Arguello, as also of Luis, famed explorer and first governor in the Mexican era. José Darío Arguello left the province in 1815 to become governor of Baja California, a post that he held without pay until 1822. He then went to Guadalajara, where he died in poverty. In 1815 came the last of the Spanish governors, Pablo Vicente de Sola. Sola was of a wealthy family and very much of an aristocrat. Like two of his predecessors, he was a Basque, coming from the province of Iscaya Spain, thus giving Alta California a representative from each of the three Basque provinces in the list of its early governors. His arrival was the occasion for the greatest series of festivities that had ever taken place in the province. There were processions galore, the firing of cannon, religious services, speeches, and a military review. A special feature was his reception by twenty of the most beautiful girls of Alta California, all dressed in white. There was a great feast at which delicacies from every part of the province were served, game and other beats of various kinds, olives, oranges, pastries, and wine. During the day there were exhibitions of skillful horsemanship and a fight between a bull and a bear. At night, of course, there was a grand ball. Sola, as governor, did not measure up to the splendor of this event. He might have fared very well in an era of fewer problems, but he came to the province when it was in the midst of difficulties with foreign elements and hard times and internal affairs. As matters were, he was a peevish, ill-tempered, despotic, complaining, self-praising, shallow sort of person, and a poor governor. The year 1818 was the only time in Alta California history, prior to the coming of the Americans, that an external foe ever attacked the province, despite many years of apprehension in earlier days over a possible foreign danger. The campaign of that year is interesting, not only in itself, but also because it was connected with an important phase of the Spanish-American wars of independence. The people of the United States were enthusiastically in favor of the struggling Spanish colonies. Despite the neutrality of the government, many Americans gave practical help to the insurgents in their battle for liberty. In particular, they rendered great service as privateersmen, preying upon Spanish commerce and making the seas unsafe for Spanish operations except under cover of a strong convoy. Many of these American ships were a little better than out-and-out pirate craft, even when they, in fact, took out letters of mark from some patriot government, but it cannot in justice be denied that they were an important element in the eventual success of the Spanish Americans. Baltimore was the chief port in which these vessels were fitted out, despite the sincere efforts of the United States government to break up the practice, so that the term Baltimore ship became synonymous with pirate craft or pirate, according to the point of view. These vessels would make their way south to Buenos Aires, perhaps carrying a cargo of munitions and once there would receive commissions as privateers. It was one such American vessel, though whether or not from Baltimore is not yet known, that took the lead in the attack of 1818. The commander of the expedition was a certain Hippolyte de Bouchard, a Frenchman who had previously been serving in the Buenos Aires Navy as Sergeant Major. He was a man of strong and determined will and a fiery temper and was a strict disciplinarian as an officer. In charge of a second ship with him at that time of his arrival in Alta California was an Englishman named Peter Corny, whose journal is thus far the principal source of information from the insurgent side for the events of the campaign. As he did not join the expedition until it reached the Hawaiian Islands, the specific events prior to that point are somewhat obscure. It seems that in May 1818 a ship called the Santa Rosa, flying the Patriot flag, touched at the Hawaiian Islands. The captain showed a suspicious readiness to sell the vessel to King Kamehameha, wherefore the island monarch ordered an investigation. The Santa Rosa had a valuable cargo of dry-goods, of which it was quite evident that it was in unlawful possession. So Kamehameha seized the ship and confined the crew. It was ascertained upon examination that the Santa Rosa, alias Checa, alias Abaca, alias Liberty, originally an American ship, had been fitted out in the Rio de la Plata as a privateer, whence it had sailed for the Pacific to cruise against Spanish commerce. It had captured a number of Spanish vessels, destroyed various towns, and in fact become the terror of the coast. Meanwhile a number of mutinies had taken place with accompanying changes in captains. It is likely that the Santa Rosa was more pirate than patriot. At any rate, in September 1818 a much larger ship, the frigate Argentina under Captain Bouchard, came to the Hawaiian Islands with orders to capture and reclaim the Santa Rosa wherever she may be found. Consequently Bouchard demanded possession of the vessel and crew from Kamehameha, a demand that was immediately complied with. It was at this time that Bouchard meant corny and induced him to join his expedition as commander of the Santa Rosa. Late in October the two vessels left the Hawaiian Islands bound for Alta California. The Santa Rosa had a motley crew of a hundred men. Thirty of them were Kanakas and the rest were divided among Americans, Spaniards, Spanish Americans, Portuguese, Negroes, Philippine Islanders, Meiles, and a few Englishmen. The officers seemed for the most part to have been Americans. On the Argentina there were 266 men of whom fifty were Kanakas and the rest a mixed crew, like that of the Santa Rosa. The ships are said, though not by corny, to have carried respectively twenty-six and thirty-eight guns. Meanwhile the Spanish Californians had been warned. In 1816 they learned that a fleet of patriot vessels had blockaded Callao and were informed that they might soon come north. During the next two years the province was kept in a state of suspense. At one time in 1816 it was reported that the Buenos Aires privateers under William Brown were threatening the entire coast as far north as the California's. During that same year a strange craft was sighted heading for Monterey. The alarm was given but the vessel proved to be a small schooner. The captain disclaimed hostile intentions, declaring that he had sailed from China for the Hawaiian Islands with a cargo of merchandise. The next day when it took its leave the ship was carefully watched until it disappeared from view. The Spanish Californians were never certain of its identity and later were convinced that it was a spy of the insurgents. In 1817 an English vessel which stopped at Monterey received the same suspicious scrutiny. The excited state of mind of the provincial authorities is reflected in the later, though obviously inaccurate, account of this visit given by an Alta California chronicler. In 1817 he says, a large ship, really that of Bouchard, anchored at Monterey claiming to be an English man of war engaged in scientific exploration. According to this writer Bouchard himself was in command. Gradually the fear of an insurgent attack subsided and the inhabitants began to acquire a sense of security. This feeling was rudely disturbed early in October 1818. In that month the American ship Clarion under Captain Henry Gizilar put in at Santa Barbara. Gizilar told Jose de la Ghetto, commander at that post, that two vessels were fitting out in the Hawaiian Islands for an attack on Alta California. Preparations for defense were undertaken. Articles of value were boxed and sent to the missions of the interior. Similarly livestock was driven inland and the women and children were ordered to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. Stores and provisions were gathered at the prosedios and sentinels were posted along the coast. There followed a long nerve-racking wait of more than a month. At length the enemy ships were sighted. According to some accounts they were first seen near San Francisco, though they did not try to enter that port. Off Santa Cruz a landing was attempted but was prevented by a violent storm and the vessels proceeded south. It was on November 20th that a sentinel at Point Pinos, near Monterey, reported the approach of the two ships. The total force of the place, forty men in all, was assembled. The principal shore defenses of eight guns were in command of Sergeant Manuel Gómez, who was said to be the uncle of an officer on one of Boshar's ships, a certain Luciano Gómez. The new battery of three guns was improvised on the beach and placed in charge of Corporal Jose Vallejo. That same night de Santa Rosa came in and anchored in the port. As Corny puts it, quote, being well acquainted with the bay I ran in and came to at midnight under the fort. The Spaniards hailed me frequently to send a boat on shore, which I declined, end quote. The next day there was a battle, the accounts of which are in a state of confusion. It is said that the Santa Rosa opened fire, though it would seem that the insurgent leaders first parlayed with Sola. They asked him for supplies, which he declined to furnish. Boshard sent off six boats from the Argentina after the conflict had begun. While they were advancing, Corporal Vallejo opened up with the guns of the improvised battery, which alone of the Monterey defenses was unknown to the enemy. Taken by surprise, Boshard ordered the boats to return. The Spanish Californians say that Corny lowered the flag of the Santa Rosa in token of surrender, after first having sent off six boats with most of the crew to the other ship. Believing it to be a trick, Governor Sola directed Vallejo to continue firing, but Gomez ordered him to stop. It is said that Vallejo, who figures as the hero of this fight, declined to obey Gomez, believing him to be in league with the enemy. Gomez then commanded the soldiers of the fort to open fire upon the battery, but in great indignation they refused. Corny makes no mention of the reputed surrender. At any rate, the Santa Rosa was not in fact captured. Meanwhile, the second officer of that vessel, Joseph Chapman, an American, came ashore with two sailors. All three were taken prisoners by the Spaniards. The second phase of the battle opened with an advance of Boshard and the Argentina. Boshard sent a flag of truce ashore with a formal demand for the surrender of Alta California, to which Sola claims to have made the grand eloquent reply that he would not take any such course while there was a man alive in the province. When nothing came of the parlaying, Boshard landed a considerable force, four hundred men, according to the Spaniards, or more than the total on both ships, near Port Pinos. Al Ferez Jose Estrada, with a small troop, was sent to oppose them, but seeing that he was greatly outnumbered, he ordered a retreat to Monterey. According to Corny, the Spaniards mounted their horses and fled, following a charge in which the Canacas, armed with pikes, took the lead. There followed a brief encounter at Monterey, whereby this time Sola had a force of eighty men. Sola deemed it prudent to retreat and did so in safety, carrying with him some munitions in the archives of the province. He stopped at Rancho del Rey, an estate on the side of present-day Salinas. Here he was joined a little later by reinforcements from San Francisco and San Jose. Thereupon two hundred Spaniards and a large number of Indians set out for Monterey, but got there to find the town in flames and the ships disappearing below the horizon. Arrived at the Presidio, they picked up two prisoners who claimed they had deserted. Meanwhile, Bouchard and his men had been in Monterey about a week, footnote. According to Bancroft, he departed on the night of November 26th, 27th. Corny says it was December 1st when they left, in footnote. They had buried their dead, cared for the wounded, and made repairs on the ships, especially the much damaged Santa Rosa. The town itself was sacked. Corny tells the story as follows, quote, It was well stocked with provisions and goods of every description which we commenced sending on board the Argentina. The sandwich islanders, who were quite naked when they landed, were soon dressed in the Spanish fashion, and all the sailors were employed in searching houses for money and breaking and ruining everything, unquote. Few buildings in the town escaped burning, and even the orchards and gardens were destroyed. The Spanish Californians were wont to ascribe this ruthless pillaging to Luciano Gomez, one of the two villains in this provincial drama. As for the other is Uncle Manuel Gomez, it is said that Salah's officers wanted to have him tried for treason, but the governor retained confidence in him and was able to point out that Gomez's house had been hit by a ball from the insurgents' guns. Bouchard next touched at Refugio, the home of the Ortegas, between Point Conception and Santa Barbara. Possibly he was lured by the reputed wealth of the Ortegas, who were said to have made a considerable fortune out of smuggling. That same day Sergeant Carlos Antonio Carrillo came up from Santa Barbara with thirty men. Lying in ambush he succeeded in lassoing three of Bouchard's following, one of whom was Lieutenant William Taylor of Boston. This so enraged Bouchard that he ordered the village to be set on fire. Meanwhile the ranch had been plundered and some of the cattle killed. Thereafter Bouchard embarked as men and Carrillo retired to Santa Barbara. The ships continued south, made a landing at Santa Cruz Island for wood and water, and on December 6th cast anchor at Santa Barbara. Among the many romantic tales that grew out of the Bouchard invasion there is one concerning a stratagem that José de la Guerra employed to deceive the enemy. Believing himself to be vastly outnumbered, it is said that he kept marching his tiny forces around a small hill so that Bouchard might count them several times over and believe them to be much greater than they were. Whether or not this in fact took place, the insurgent seemed not in the least to have been frightened. Corny's account reads, quote, We fired a gun and hoisted the colors with a flag of truce and sent a boat on shore to say that if they would give up our men we would spare the town, end quote. After some parlaying, an exchange of prisoners was agreed upon. At Monterey Bouchard had captured a drunken and worthless character named Molina. This man he gave up for the three whom Carrillo had taken. Sulla afterward reprimanded de la Guerra for having any dealings with pirates and even blamed him for not attacking Bouchard, despite the fact that he himself with much superior forces to those of de la Guerra had seen fit to retire from Monterey to Rancho del Rey and remained there while the capital was being destroyed. As for Molina, he must have regretted his exchange for Sulla sentenced him to a hundred lashes and six years on the chain gang. Bouchard seems to have been at Santa Barbara several days before resuming the voyage south. There was considerable alarm at San Buenaventura lest he should land there. The mission was abandoned and the people went into the interior for twenty-four days. Father Jose Sinyan of San Buenaventura afterward described Bouchard's men as made up of, quote, heretics, excommunicated persons, heathen, and a few moors, unquote. This remark may be taken as symptomatic of the excitement of the times. Bouchard, however, did not stop at San Buenaventura, but went on to San Juan Capistrano. It was on December 14th that the insurgent vessels appeared before San Juan Capistrano. Corny tells the story as follows, quote, the Commodore sent his boat on shore to say if they would give us the immediate supply of provisions we would spare their town, to which they replied that we might land if we pleased and they would give us an immediate supply of powder and shot. The Commodore was very much incensed at this answer and assembled all the officers to know what was best to be done. It was therefore agreed to land and give it up to be pillaged and sacked. We found the town well stocked with everything but money and destroyed much wine and spirits and all the private property. Next morning we punished about twenty men for getting drunk, end quote. The Spanish officer, who returned to Bray but somewhat impolitic answered to Bouchard above referred to, was Alferez Santiago Arguello. He had come up from San Diego with thirty men to aid the small force at the mission. They were unable to oppose any resistance to Bouchard, however. On the next day the fifteenth considerable reinforcements from Santa Barbara and Los Angeles arrived, under the command of José de Leguera. Smarting under Sola's reproof, de Leguera was very eager to fight. So he sent a challenge to Bouchard to land and have a battle. But the insurgent commander chose instead to sail away, leaving behind four of his men who had deserted, including two of the three who had previously been captured at Refugio. San Diego now prepared itself for the enemy. The women and children had previously been sent inland to Pala, and the soldiers were ready. But Bouchard sailed by without stopping. Late in January, 1819, his vessels were sited near Samblas. There was a tale to the effect that he attacked a Spanish cruiser, mistaking it for a treasure ship, which he had allowed to pass the day before in a belief that it was the cruiser. He has said to have escaped, however, with the loss of a few men and some damage to his ship. Corny does not mention this fight, though he does speak of their cruising off Samblas at the time in search of Manila ships. Continuing down the coast, they reached Valparaiso, Chile, on July 9. There the record stops, for it was at that port that Corny parted company with the Bouchard ships. Presumably, they went on to the east coast. At any rate, when Corny applied for his pay and prize money, Bouchard told him he would get nothing unless he continued his services until they reached Buenos Aires. When the Spanish Californians were convinced that Bouchard had gone, they began work to restore the buildings that he had destroyed. At Monterey, for example, the missions were called upon to furnish the necessary Indian labor and were also required to make contributions of various stores to replace those which had been lost. Not until April 1819 were affairs in such a state as to permit the return of the women and children from Soledad. At Santa Cruz, in San Juan Capistrano, there were sharp controversy springing out of the campaign. In the course of the transfer of valuables from the former place to one of the inland missions, some casks of wine and a guardiente were reported to have been spilled. According to all the evidence, it was at about the same time that the work of removal became ragged and various articles disappeared. The friars raised a hue and cry, and it proved that the settlers of Bronzeforte and the Indians of the mission had stolen a number of small things, most of which were presently recovered. Prior to the San Juan Capistrano affair, the friars and others of the mission had abandoned the place and gone into the interior. Upon their return they accused Santiago Arleo of having neglected the mission and in particular of having wasted their wine and brandy. As concrete evidence, they were able to point to two of the mission Indians who had indeed partaken not wisely but too well. One of them had drunk himself to death and the other had become insane. With the aid of José de la Guerra, always a favorite of the friars, Arguello was able to clear himself. But the most interesting thing about the Bouchard expedition is the motive that lay behind it. Despite the fact that there was always much evidence to the effect that it was a distinct effort on behalf of the Spanish American Revolutionary cause, there has, here to fore, been a tendency to emphasize the more or less piratical nature of the enterprise. Corny's journal makes it certain that the primary object of Bouchard was to attack the Spanish ports of that coast in order to strike a blow at the king of Spain. The undertaking, therefore, was legitimate in every way. In the light of this fact, the testimony of prisoners and deserters taken by the Spanish Californians is interesting. They claim to have been on ships captured by the Santa Rosa, or the Argentina, and to have been pressed into service against their will. They were a unit, however, in declaring that the expedition was a blow aimed by the insurgent leaders against the Spanish government. It is to be remembered that the Revolutionary cause had only begun to recover from its lowest ebb at about the time Bouchard must have been sent forth on his voyage. Prior to San Martín's march across the Andes to Chile in 1817, the region of the Rio de la Plata alone remained unconquered by the Spaniards. By 1818, Chile had been retaken by the Patriots, and the war in Venezuela and Colombia had been revived. But New Spain, Central America, the West Indies, and the entire Middle reaches of the Pacific coast of South America, forming the vice-royalty of Peru, were in Spanish hands. This adds point to the remarks ascribed to one of the prisoners taken by the Spanish Californians at Monterey. After referring to the defeats of the Revolutionary leaders, particularly in New Spain, he went on to say, quote, In order to stimulate the hearts of the Patriots, they had thought it necessary to bring into the liberal cause the inhabitants of California, who, on account of their distance from the capital of the vice-roy, offered a safe exile to the persecuted and could serve as a rallying point for the expeditions destined to help the Patriots, end quote. One wonders what might have happened if the Spanish Californians had made common cause with the Bouchard instead of resisting him. More than likely, a Spanish American Republic would then and there have been formed. One may also ask why Bouchard did not persevere in his effort. The answer is simple. Without a base of supplies near at hand, he could not hope to conquer and hold the province with his small forces in the face of opposition. If the inhabitants had been eager to embrace the Patriot cause, he might have adopted a different course of action, but finding them loyal to the King, his sole desire was to strike a blow on behalf of the Patriots. It is to be noted that his only serious military effort was against Monterey, the capital. Among other events worthy of record in the Revolutionary Era as the arrival of the first permanent non-Spanish white settlers. In 1814 came John Gilroy, a youth of twenty. His real name was Cameron, but he had decided to change it in order to hide his identity when he decided to seek a career on the ocean wave and ran away to sea. Born in Scotland, he had lived most of his life in England. He is described as a good-natured, grog-loving improvident sailor. Acquiring a ranch on the side of the town, which now bears his name, he lost that and the rest of his property at the time of the American conquest. In 1869 he died. Next after Gilroy, probably in 1814 or 1815, came an Irishman named John Milligan, who for some unknown reason assumed the name Mulligan. He is said to have taught weaving to the Indians at the missions. In 1834 he died due in large measure, no doubt, to his over-indulgence and hard-drink. In 1816 the first American to remain in the province arrived, not counting the defunct groan. This was Thomas W. Doak, reputedly of Boston, the young man of 29 who came on the ship Albatross. He passed most of his life in or near Monterey and Santa Cruz. After 1847 he disappears from the record. Another American named Daniel Call landed at Santa Barbara later in 1816 from the ship Atala. He was 17 years old at the time, beyond the fact that he was a carpenter, very little is known about him. The most famous foreign resident of the Spanish period, often mistakenly called the first American, was Joseph Chapman, about 30 years old at the time of his arrival. He was one of several Abouchard's men who remained in Alta California, henceforth. Chapman was of New England extraction. His career immediately prior to his arrival is somewhat obscure. He claimed to have been pressed into the service of Abouchard and the Hawaiian Islands, but it is highly probable that he had previously shared in the more or less illicit prize money picked up by the much-named Santa Rosa. In Alta California he became a famous character and a general favorite. He was a typical handyman and jack-of-all trades. He built several grist mills, planted a vineyard of some 4,000 vines at Los Angeles, built a schooner, served as a surgeon, and did odd jobs at the missions and elsewhere, for there seemed to be nothing he could not make or repair. Furthermore, he married one of the numerous daughters of the wealthy and aristocratic Ortega family and became the father of five children. He resided for the most part at Los Angeles and Santa Barbara and died probably in 1848 or 1849. In addition to the five already mentioned, at least eight other foreigners are known to have come to Alta California before the close of the year 1818. After Bouchard's departure, the province drifted rapidly toward the separation from Spain, which it had so insistently opposed before. In the absence of the king, who was a prisoner in Napoleon's hands, the Spanish Cortez of 1812 had overthrown the previously existing absolutist system and had drawn up a constitution proclaiming a liberal monarchy in the name of Ferdinand VII. That monarch cast aside the constitution of 1812 upon his restoration in 1814, but was forced to accept it again in 1820. The constitution was published in New Spain in May 1820 and in Alta California in October. The law required that all should take the oath to the new government and this was probably done out of loyalty to the king whose name was signed to the order. The friars did not like it, but for that matter neither did Ferdinand. This was the first step in Alta California toward an independence which was not at all desired. During 1821, events moved rapidly in New Spain. Under the leadership of Augustine Iturbide, independence was proclaimed in one, and the name New Spain disappeared with the victory to be supplanted by that of Mexico. The news of Iturbide's victory did not reach Alta California until January 1822. At first the Alta Californians were unable to believe that it was a more than a passing moment, but late in March they were called upon to take action. At that time they got word that Iturbide meant to summon Ferdinand VII or some other Spanish bourbon to be ruler of the Mexican Empire, but the latter was henceforth to be independent of Spain. The people of Alta California were required to swear allegiance to the new government and were invited to send a deputy to the Mexican Congress. This looked serious, so the governor called together a special junta of nine officers and one friar. This body decided to recognize the regency of Iturbide and declared Alta California dependent on the Mexican Empire only. On April 11, 1822 Spanish rule in Alta California may be said to have come to an end. On that day the oath was taken at Monterrey and this was followed by religious services, cheering the firing of guns, music, and illuminations. On later days the inhabitants of other settlements duly took the oath and celebrated the independence which even yet they were not sure that they desired. There was no evidence, however, that there was so much as a single protest. No doubt the people were stunned by the, to them, inconceivable happening of the overthrow of Spanish power. It remained to elect the deputy to the Mexican Congress. Elections were held during that same month of April for electors, of whom there was to be one for each of the four procedural districts and one for Los Angeles. The five electors met at Monterrey in May and named Sola as Alta California's deputy. It may be wondered how such a vociferous royalist as Sola could be willing to take office in an unrecognized government since Spain had by no means consented to the new turn of affairs. But a great and most discernible change had come over the erstwhile arch-loyalist governor. In his latter days in the province he was wont to rejoice in independence as loudly as he had previously berated it. He remained in office as governor, however, until a successor could be chosen. In November 1822 was held the first gubernatorial election in the history of Alta California. It was expected that José de la Guerra would win. He was senior captain and had the backing of Sola, most other officers, and the friars. But he was a native of Spain, wherefore an agent of Mexico, then in the province, worked hard to compass his defeat. So when the vote was counted it proved that Luis Arguello of San Francisco had won. That same month Sola left Alta California for Mexico. The new regime was now solidly installed. Spanish California existed no more. The movement which had begun exactly three hundred years before, when Cortez planted his settlement Zacatula, had passed irrevocably into other than Spanish hands. Footnote This chapter is based principally on Jones, Francis Kerry, California in the Spanish American Wars of Independence, the Bouchard Invasion, Berkeley, California, 1921, Manuscript, Master of Arts Thesis, in the Library of the University of California. In footnote. End of chapter 33 Chapter 34 A History of California the Spanish Period This Slibervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 34 Under Mexican Governors 1822 to 1835 Strictly speaking there was no Mexican period of California history. During a quarter of a century the sovereignty of the Southern Republic was more or less continuously acknowledged, but the actual intervention of Mexico and the affairs of its distance province consisted in little more than sending of governors and a few score of degraded soldiery. These years were therefore more prominently marked by other influences. By far the most important among them was the coming of the Americans. The tide had set in some time before, but now it reached the full, wherefore it is best that the detailed account of this epoch should be left to the historian of American California. The great era of Spanish achievement had passed. All that remains to do in this volume, therefore, is to bring the story to an end with a recital of the local events which occupied the attention of the descendants of the conquerors until the last blow was struck for the change to a new regime. The keynote of the era from a provincial standpoint was to be found in its turbulence. There was much revolutionary unrest, based largely on personal and sectional rivalries. Men fought or intrigued for office and the chance to administer the scant resources of treasury. South fought north, challenging its traditional predominance. All, however, were united in a greater or lesser dissatisfaction over the neglect of their affairs by the Mexican government, a factor which manifested itself in more than one political upheaval. In other words, all to California was experiencing the same type of growing pains that other Spanish-American lands from Texas to Cape Horn had suffered in the years immediately following independence from Spain. Left to itself, the province would, very probably, have evolved into a respectable independent republic, or two republics, like those in the temperate zone of South America. These years also saw the downfall of the missions, which for so long a time had been the most important institution in all to California. Twelve men filled the gubernatorial chair in this period. They were Luis Arguello, 1822 to 1825, Jose Maria Echeandia, 1825 to 1831, Manuel Victoria, 1831 to 1832, Pio Pico, 1832 for twenty days only, Echeandia again from 1832 to 1833, but in the South only, Agustín Zamorano, 1832 to 1833 in the North only, Jose Figaroa, 1833 to 1835, Jose Castro, 1835 to 1836, Nicolás Gutierrez, 1836 for four months only, Mariano Chico, 1836 for three months only, Gutierrez again, 1836 for three months, Juan Batista Alvarado, 1836 to 1842, Manuel Michael Torrena, 1842 to 1845, Pico again, 1845 to 1846, and Jose Maria Flores, 1846 to 1847. Pico, Castro, Alvarado from 1838 and Pico again were civil governors only. During their incumbency, the military power was held respectively by Echeandia, who was the de facto, if not the de jura ruler. Gutierrez, who soon became governor, Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, 1838 to 1842, and Castro, the former civil governor, who served as comandantes. They were virtually co-governors. Outwardly, the period of Luis Arguello's rule was less stirring than many which had gone before, or any of those to come. The change from the Mexican regency to the empire was formally accepted in 1823, followed a few months later by an oath of allegiance to the newly established republic. In 1825 the people of the province quite as easily swore to support the Mexican constitution which had just been submitted to them. No doubt they would have subscribed with like facility to any other governmental change. This is indicative rather of the hazy character of the Mexican connection than of fickle incumbency on the part of the Californians. In truth it mattered little to them what Mexico was. Far more important was the opening of the province to foreign trade and the coming of men like William Hartnell and Abel Stearns, who settled permanently in the province and became the founders of important Anglo-Californian families which have been prominent in the life of the Golden State ever since. No doubt the greatest local excitement during Arguello's administration was produced by the Indian Revolt of 1824. In February of that year there were almost simultaneous uprisings at the Santa Inés, Burísima Concepción, and Santa Barbara Missions. The precise causes are a matter of controversy, but it is probably true that hatred of the mission Indians for the soldierry was a prominent factor. The outbreak started at Santa Inés when one of the soldiers flogged an Indian. Thereupon the Indians sought revenge and surprised the soldiery by appearing well-armed. A brisk battle followed, in which it seems, however, that nobody was killed, although the mission buildings were set on fire. Next day a detachment of troops arrived from Santa Barbara and the Indians yielded. On the same day as the Santa Inés disturbance there was also a revolt at Burísima Concepción and a somewhat more strenuous battle. The Indians attacked the soldiers and next morning compelled them to surrender. Seven Indians and four white men, two of them guests at the mission, had been killed. The surviving soldiers were allowed to depart and the Indians remained in control of the mission for nearly a month. When the news reached Santa Barbara the Indians there became greatly excited and proceeded to take over the mission for themselves including the guns of the soldiery. Thereupon Captain De La Gatta assembled a force at the Presidio and marched to attack the mission. A battle of several hours duration followed during which two Indians were killed and a number on both sides wounded. Presently most of the Indians took to the hills and the victorious soldiery sacked the Indian homes, killing a few more of their erstwhile opponents in the process. It was not long afterward that word reached Monterey. Governor Arguello at once dispatched Lieutenant Jose Mariano Estrada with an enormous army, as things went in Alta California, of a hundred men. Estrada at length reached Burísima Concepción where the victorious mission Indians of that place were still entrenched, armed with muskets and two small cannon. They did not know how to use their strength, however, and Estrada's four pounder did such execution among them that they decided to flee. They were cut off and compelled to surrender. Sixteen Indians had been killed and many more wounded. Three of the attacking force were wounded, one of them mortally. Several more battles were fought in this campaign, but these took place across the mountains in the Tularis where their three successive expeditions followed the fugitives from Santa Barbara. Eventually peace was made and most of the Indians returned to the mission. In November 1825 Lieutenant Colonel Echiondia arrived from Mexico to become governor of the province. He has been described as, quote, a tall, thin, juiceless man possessing but little enterprise or force of character and much concerned about the effect of California climate on his not too robust health, end quote. The new governor was to be largely responsible for many of the troubles which Altacalifornia suffered in the ensuing years. One of them he started right away when he fixed his residence at San Diego instead of going to Monterey, thus making a beginning of the conflict between north and south which was to continue for the rest of the era. He had been appointed governor of Baja California as well and asserted that he could take care of the two provinces much better from San Diego than from the capital in the north. It was generally recognized, however, that he feared the climate of Monterey would prove too rigorous for him. Of Echiondia's ill-advised handling of the missions, more will be said presently. Meanwhile he got into difficulties with the soldiers who had for years been obliged to get on without pay and who became more and more disgruntled when Echiondia, who was indeed at his wit's ends for funds, did nothing to help them. The soldiers at Monterey revolted in 1828 but were persuaded to resume their duties. In November 1829, however, they decided to revolt and earnest. The principal officers at that post were seized and a certain rancher named Joaquin Solis, ex-soldier and more recently ex-convict, was installed in command. A proclamation was drawn up, reciting their grievances against Echiondia and announcing their intention of setting up a new governor. Various foreigners in Monterey contributed funds for the enterprise and the garrison of San Francisco declared for the revolt. After the first flush of excitement, the rebellion lost its grip. The criminal record of the leader was a grave handicap. To save the situation, Solis resolved upon a campaign in the south. At first all was bright. The mission fathers, influenced no doubt by their dislike of Echiondia, received him graciously on the way. The garrison at Santa Barbara got one of his proclamations and rose in his favor. And then again the tide turned. The soldiers of Santa Barbara were persuaded to resume their allegiance. Echiondia presently reached that post and a little later Solis and his army appeared from the north. The battle of Santa Barbara, which followed, was indeed of several days' duration, but in the main it was a war of words. Solis fired the last gun in the shape of a proclamation announcing that he and his men were ready to fight and never would surrender until they got their pay, shortly after which he beat a retreat. Echiondia's batteries in the shape of promises to forgive those who would come over to his side had, meanwhile, wrought great execution in Solis's ranks through desertion. Echiondia advanced to Monterey, captured Solis and other ring-leaders, and shipped them off to Mexico. Thus ended the first revolt of the Californians against constituted Mexican authority. The government, and the south as against the north, had proved victorious in a bloodless war. Echiondia found that the climate of Monterey was indurable after all, and remained there for a year. Indeed, when the newly appointed Governor, Lieutenant Colonel Victoria, asked him to come to San Diego to surrender his office, Echiondia nevertheless stayed on at Monterey and would not even go to Santa Barbara where he was next requested to appear. So Victoria came north to Monterey and was installed in office in January 1831, and now that he was already in Monterey made that place his capital. Thus Monterey came into its own again, and indirectly through the agency of the man who had formerly deprived it of its proud position. Footnote. Echiondia all but robbed California of its name in 1827. He persuaded the Deputation to change it to Montezuma, a coat of arms was planned to consist of an Indian with plumb, bow, and quiver in the act of crossing a strait, all within an oval, having on the outside an olive and an oak, in memory of the first peopling of the Americas, which according to the most common opinion was by the strait of Vaneon. The act required the approval of the Mexican government, which it never received, and so it came to naught. Footnote. Victoria was primarily a soldier out of sympathy with the Republican institutions and a firm believer in military methods and civil administration. He began a campaign against evildoers which was somewhat too rigorous. Sentences of death and execution followed in rapid succession. This was well enough, but when the governor showed a disposition also to run roughshod over political opponents, the spark of revolution was kindled. The missionaries whose cause he had defended were soon almost alone in supporting him. The revolt broke out in the south, late in 1831, being fostered by men like Jose Antonio Carrillo, Juan Bandini, Pio Pico, and Abel Stearns, an American who had come to California in 1829. These were among the most prominent people in that section. Leadership in the enterprise was offered to Echiondia, who had returned to San Diego after the expiration of his term of office. He accepted, and operations began with the capture of San Diego and Los Angeles, which were taken by the rebels without a battle. Meanwhile, Governor Victoria was some 30 disciplined soldiers had hurried south. The insurgents under Captain Pablo Partia of San Diego numbered perhaps as many as 150, but most of them were untrained. The two armies met just a few miles from Los Angeles near Cahuenga Pass. The battle which followed did not result in great loss of life, but was perhaps as spectacular as any that was ever fought in the province. It began when Victoria, despising his opponents, advanced alone and called on Partia and his regulars to come over to his side. He then directed his own men to fire a volley, presumably in order to frighten the enemy's raw recruits without hurting them. The southern soldiery replied with a few shots and then started to run away, whereupon Victoria and Captain Romualdo Pacheco, followed by one or two others, rode forward to pursue them. Up to this time nobody had been hit, but the governor had made a miscalculation which was to cost him dear. In the opposing army where several individuals have must have been desirous of emulating the achievements of the knights of old in the days when battles were entrusted to champions of the warring forces in single combat. Such a person, it seems, was José María Avila. Sword in hand he made a thundering charge against Pacheco, who, for his part, rode to meet him with Lance ready for action. Their horses passed, but Avila checked his steed, drew a pistol, and shot Pacheco, killing him instantly. Looking for more worlds to conquer he threw himself upon Victoria. Other horsemen on both sides joined in the conflict. In the ensuing melee Avila was unhorsed and killed, Victoria received several Lance wounds and at least one other was wounded. Unauthenticated popular versions of the battle have it that Avila himself wounded Victoria and that it was the governor who killed the fire-eating Avila. The battle was over and Victoria remained in possession of the field. Virtually, however, the impetuous Avila had turned the scale in favor of the Californians. Victoria wounded saw matters in a different light than Victoria's sound and body would have viewed them. Instead of capturing Los Angeles and quelling the revolt, he betook himself to bed at San Gabriel, and from there informed Echiondia that he was not only willing, but even desirous that he be sent to Mexico, promising to return no more. His offer was accepted and several weeks later he took his departure. With their experience of the militarist Victoria fresh in mind, the Californians resolved to separate the civil from the military functions of government. The Deputación, as the provincial legislature was called, elected Pio Pico civil governor, if apolitical, in January 1832. Less than three weeks later, however, he was obliged to resign primarily on account of Echiondia's failure to support him. It now seems that Echiondia had a clear field, but unexpected opposition developed in the North. The foreigners of British and American extraction had been inclined to favor Victoria in the late controversy, because he, at least, stood for good order. Californian revolutions might not cause much loss of life, but they were bad for business, and that was what the foreign colony was interested in, most of all. To them, it seemed that the disputes of Pico and Echiondia portended a continuance of disorder. They therefore joined readily in a movement to set up Augustine Zamorano, former gubernatorial secretary to Echiondia and Victoria. Under leadership of William Hartnell, a foreign company was formed to defend Monterey from attack. The Hispanic population of the North was equally well disposed to Zamorano, influenced possibly by Echiondia's evident intention of remaining at San Diego instead of coming to Monterey. Zamorano was therefore acknowledged as temporary governor until such time as a Mexican authority should appoint a successor to the deposed Victoria. One of the earliest measures of Zamorano's government was to send an armed force south under Lieutenant Juan Maria Ibarra to defend Santa Barbara against an attack by Echiondia. Ibarra pushed on until he reached Los Angeles. Then came rumors that Echiondia was about to attack him. As the story went, the Mission Indians, who, as is presently to be explained, were devoted partisans of Echiondia, were flocking to his standard. Ibarra decided therefore to retreat. On his way he found a veritable enemy in his rear in the shape of a score of armed convicts. These were captured in Santa Monterey. The war now actively entered into the proclamation stage. The pen proved mightier than the sword, and in May both sides agreed to call it a draw. An arrangement was made whereby Zamorano and Echiondia should each remain in power until a governor from Mexico arrived. It is interesting to note that Zamorano's sphere of control was to extend as far south as San Fernando, while San Gabriel was the limit of Echiondia's sway. In January 1833 the new governor from Mexico arrived. He was Jose Figueroa, assuredly one of the greatest figures in the history of all to California. A brevet, brigadier general, he had also been governor of Sonora and Sinaloa for six years, and had interested himself in the reopening of the Anzarute to the Pacific Coast. Wars with the Yachtis and the Apaches had kept him from putting his plan into effect, but he had made himself fully aware of the importance of the northern province and the desirability of developing its resources. Ill-Health led him to seek retirement almost from the moment of his arrival, and brought about his death some two years and half later. Yet he was to accomplish more than any governor of the province ever had, with a possible exception of Nive. One of Figueroa's first acts had to do with the grant of an amnesty to all who had been concerned in the late revolt. This announcement he caused to be published in a circular dated January 16, 1833, the first printing in the history of the province. He then applied himself with more than usual success to internal administration. If he had confined himself merely to that, he would undoubtedly have been regarded as one of the great governors. But he aspired to something more. He had been instructed to explore the regions north of the Bay of San Francisco and found settlements to defend that country against the Russians of Fort Ross and the English along the Columbia. Unlike some of his predecessors who had received similar commands, Figueroa at once took action and chose Mariana Guadalupe Viejo as his instrument. Viejo was at the time an Alferez at San Francisco. Son of Ignacio Viejo, who came with the Rivera in 1774, and brother of Jose Viejo, who had distinguished himself in the Bouchard Affair, he himself had won honors in several Indian campaigns and in provincial politics, the only twenty-five years old. Figueroa sent him north of the Bay to explore for a presidial site. Viejo made a trip to Bodega and Fort Ross in April 1833 and in the fall established a colony of ten settlers at Petaluma in a smaller colony at Santa Rosa. In May of the following year, Figueroa learned that his petition to retire had been acted upon favorably and that his successor, Jose Maria Hiar, was coming to Alt California with a great body of colonists. In August, therefore, Figueroa himself inspected the North Bay country in order to make some preparations for the expected colonists. He went as far as Fort Ross. On his return, however, he received a message which gave him pause in his plans. Ever since the change of flag from Spain to Mexico, the Mexican government had encouraged colonization of Alt California. A law of 1824 made liberal provision for intending settlers. Not content with this, the authorities resorted to other means which occasioned no little resentment. They began to use Alt to California as a penal colony. Seventeen convicts arrived in 1825, including the already mentioned Joaquin Solis. Within another year, more than a hundred others had been sent, and in 1830 a shipload of 80 arrived. In 1833 a new project was set on foot in Mexico by Jose Maria Padres. Padres had been in Alt California for a time where he had conceived a plan for the spoilation of the missions under the guise of secular administration of the temporalities. He won support from many who hoped to share in the proceeds. Exiled by Victoria in 1831, he built up a project of colonization around the same idea of utilizing the mission well. In Jose Maria Hiar he found the man he needed to back his projects, and the two together procured the support of the national government. Hiar was to be civil governor and director of colonization, and a subordinate post was provided for Padres. The government offered allowances in pay, implements, seed, and domestic animals to all who would go. Wherefore Hiar and Padres got together about 120 colonists of better than usual quality, and left Samblas in July 1834 in two ships. Footnote. One of the colonists was Jose Maria Covarrubias, later a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1849 and the first four legislatures of the state. End quote. At about that same time there was a change in government in Mexico. The new president was distrustful of the Hiar-Padres project. Too late to stop the expedition, he resolved to send a messenger over the Anzarut, directing Figueroa not to turn over the government to Hiar, whose commission he had revoked. The emissary, Rafael Amador by name, made a phenomenal overland journey from Mexico to Monterey in from forty to forty-eight days, traveling mostly alone, barely escaping death at the hands of the Indians of the Colorado, and nearly perishing from thirst in the desert. Naturally Figueroa's attitude toward the coming settlers underwent a change. Hiar, with one of his ships that already put in at San Diego on September 1st. From there he proceeded by land to Monterey, telling the mission Indians as he went along that he had come to free them. Padres, with the other vessel, reached Monterey on September 25th. Several members of the Diplotación had formerly been prominent supporters of Padres's secularization plan, but now they turned against him upon learning that he had promised many of his colonists the same profitable employment as mission administrators, which, several years before, he had promised them. They therefore voted that Figueroa should continue to be the governor, and should make such provisions for the colonists as he might see fit. Hiar tried argument and bribery in order to induce Figueroa to give him the administration of the missions, but without a veil. It was eventually decided to send the colonists north of the bay, and the missions were called upon to supply them with food until the settlers could raise crops of their own. They might have starved, however, if it had not been for Mariano Vallejo, who caused them to be transferred to the Sonoma Valley and furnished with provisions during the winter. In the end, the colonists dispersed, though most of them remained in the north bay district. Hiar and Padres were presently accused of having been implicated in a minor outbreak at Los Angeles in March 1835 and were sent back to Mexico. Relieved of their embarrassing presence, Figueroa went actively ahead with measures for colonization during the few remaining months of his life. He made a number of land grants to individual settlers as indeed he had done before. While in Los Angeles he met William Antonio Richardson, an Englishman born, who, as a youth of 22, had reached Alta California in 1822 as mate to a British ship which he deserted. Figueroa induced Richardson to accept an appointment as captain of the Port of San Francisco. Richardson went there and put up the first building in San Francisco other than those at the last conveniently located Presidio and Mission. Around his house, as a nucleus, a settlement called Yerba-Uana sprang up, where the shipping and business interests of the bay region centered. Eventually to become the principal district of the city of San Francisco. By Figueroa's order, too, a town was founded at Sonoma, then so-named, in 1835 by Vallejo, near the mission San Francisco Solano. Figueroa is most often remembered in connection with the secularization of the missions. It will be recalled that in theory the Spanish missions were limited to a period of ten years, after which they were to be converted into civilian towns and the missionaries were to move on to a new field. Nothing like that had ever been attempted in Alta California and rarely if ever elsewhere. In 1813 the Spanish Cortes passed a law calling for the immediate secularization of all missions which had existed as such for ten years or more. This law was not published in Alta California until 1821, but nothing was done to carry it into effect. Indeed, there were no priests to replace the friars. The missions at that time were perhaps at or near their greatest period of prosperity. The number of Indians under mission control was still very large and the mission properties were easily the greater part of the wealth of the province. For ten years they had been the principal support to the military establishment, but that expense could be written off as a dead loss without seriously impairing their financial position. Nevertheless the missions were already doomed of their own weight, irrespective of any legislation that might be passed. For years death set the mission had outrun births and the growing deficiency could not be supplied by conversions of the non-Christian tribes since these either were not present at all in the mission area or else in very scant number. Inevitably the same fate was in store for the Californian Indians that has been the lot of other backward peoples in the presence of white civilization. Under the most favorable circumstances the end might have been postponed longer than it was, but more could hardly have been expected. Pressure began to be put upon the missions from the outset of Mexican rule. Taxes were imposed. The friars protested, but paid. Nothing of importance happened, however, until after the arrival of Echiondia. This governor, if anybody other than the Mexican authorities and not Figueroa, is the one who should be charged with precipitating the downfall of the missions, although it was in the administration of the latter that the decisive step was taken. Cognizant of the fact that Mexican sentiment strongly favored secularization, Echiondia resolved upon a policy to bring his own government into accord with the prevailing view. In 1826, therefore, he issued an order that married Indians of the missions south of Monterey were to be allowed to leave the missions, provided they had been Christians for fifteen years or from infancy, and were esteemed capable of supporting themselves. This preliminary measure had scant effect. Indeed, there were few Indians who could have maintained themselves in a civilized manner. In 1827 the Mexican law called for the expulsion of all friars from the Republic. But this, too, was virtually a dead letter in Alta California. Of far more importance was a provincial law of 1830 prepared by Echiondia in response to urgings from Mexico and promulgated with the approval of the national government. This provided for gradual secularization of the missions. The mere announcement of the law was enough to occasion a great change. There was a more or less general feeling of opposition to the friars. The rank and file of the soldiery, still unpaid, often in rags, and depended upon the missions for the little they had, looked with envy or indignation at the comparative opulence of the friars and their native wards. Others were eager to enhance their private fortune by spoilation of the missions, or else felt aggrieved by the objections of the friars to grants of land they had received which the missionaries claimed infringed upon their holdings. Few were possessed of a religious ardor which might have arranged them on the side of the friars, or they had grown up without priests, except at such intervals as the Franciscans came in from the missions to act in the capacity of curates. Not a few pointed out that mission servitude accorded ill with republican ideas. Of more account was the attitude of the mission Indians. They understood that Echiondia was about to give them freedom, but freedom to them met cessation from work, the end of punishments, a right to do as they pleased, and a permanent food supply from an unending mission store. They listened readily to those who told them that the friars were robbing them of their lands, or treating them with undue cruelty, as well as to those who painted the prospective freedom in brightest colors. Personal attachment to the missionaries held many to their tasks, but it was increasingly difficult to get the others to do anything at all. Echiondia made matters worse by appointing agents on his own initiative to manage the mission estates on behalf of the emancipated Indians. At the time Figueroa came to Alt-California, the immediate overthrow of the missions seems not to have been contemplated. Indeed, he was accompanied by ten friars sent out to supply rapidly growing vacancies. These friars were Franciscans, but not from the College of Sam Fernando, which was no longer able to provide missionaries. They and their leader, Francisco Garcia de Ago, were from the College of Zacatecas. Figueroa had been instructed to proceed with gradual secularization, but to restore the missions to the position they held before Echiondia's unauthorized acts. A few months after his arrival, Figueroa started south on a mission tour. He found that Echiondia had caused mischief beyond repair. Mission discipline along former lines was utterly gone. On the other hand, he saw enough to convince himself that immediate secularization would be unwise since the Indians were incapable of managing their own affairs. Indeed, the institution of private property, especially in land, had little meaning to them. Something had to be done, however, so he issued an order for the emancipation of such Indians as were best fitted for liberty. Lands, implements, seed, and animals were to be allotted to them, though in other respects they were to remain for the time being subject to the civil and religious authorities. Yet, of the fifty-nine heads of families at San Diego deemed worthy of this prospect, only two cared to make the trial. Well, ten out of a hundred and eight accepted at San Luis Rey. Surely a most disappointing showing. Figueroa was now in substantial agreement with Garcia and Duran, the two father presidents, that secularization was inadvisable unless upon a gradual basis, and wrote to Mexico in protest against any legislation to hasten the process. He also opposed granting any of the mission lands to intending colonists, holding that they should be reserved for the Indians alone. And yet Figueroa was called upon to execute the most drastic measure of secularization that had thus far been enacted. In August 1833 the Mexican government declared itself unequivocally for secularization. A supplemental act of November associated colonization, with the Padreas-Iar project in mind, with secularization and proposed to make use of the pious fund to assist in the plan. Another law of April 1834 insisted that secularization should go into effect within four months. Figueroa had of necessity to execute these laws, but did what he could to save something out of the wreck. He even stretched the law by providing for gradual secularization, though somewhat more hastened than formerly, instead of completing it in four months. The following were the principal provisions of his decree dated August 9, 1834. A beginning was to be made with ten of the missions only, roughly speaking, half of the mission properties were to be distributed among the Indians, the rest were to be put in charge of secular administrators for the support of the religious establishment and other objects for the public good. The Indians were required to perform indispensable community work and could not legally sell their lands or chattels. Cattle were not to be killed in large numbers except as should be necessary for purposes of maintenance. Footnote. For several years an indiscriminate slaughter of mission cattle had been going on, thousands being killed for their hides only. These were added to the mission store, but it has been denied that the Friars authorized the killings. On the contrary, it is asserted that they tried without success to prevent them. In footnote. Finally, in the absence of curates the Friars were to remain at the missions in charge of religious instruction. This legislation was not perfect but was perhaps as good as could be expected under the circumstances. The proof that it accomplished something is that the missions remained in existence for more than a decade and almost to the very end were still able to provide the greater part of the provincial revenues. Unfortunately Figueroa did not live long enough to supervise the execution of his decree and it was precisely the execution of the decree and not the decree itself which was responsible for such harm as resulted. As one writer says, quote, he was not the author of secularization. He did not even approve it. He foresaw the disaster that must follow if the law of August 1833 were enforced, as he was required to enforce it, and he did what he could and as much as any man could have done to confine the mischief within the narrowest limits, end quote. Administrators were appointed for ten of the missions in 1834, for six more in 1835, and for the other five in 1836. After the death of Figueroa, Alta California suffered for several years from internal convulsions. During all this time the administrators were left to their own devices. Many of them enriched both themselves and their friends. Still others were merely incompetent, and a few perhaps were both honest and capable. The distributions of property to the Indians were made as each administrator saw fit. The worst feature of the system, however, was the behavior of the Indians. Relieved from mission discipline, they refused to work. Despite the provisions of the law, they sold their properties, especially domestic animals, for anything they would bring. When their own stock of supplies was gone, some hired themselves out in a state of virtual slavery to such families as could employ them. Others joined the non-Christian tribesmen in horse stealing and life in a state of barbarism, and still others sank to the uttermost depths of degradation. The missions and the mission system were dead. And yet the corpse lived on. Some Indians, indeed, had returned to the secularized missions. With the re-establishment of peace, an earnest attempt was made to remedy affairs. Early in 1839 Governor Alvarado appointed William Hartnell, a man of high character and notable attainments, to see the door of the missions with authority to correct abuses that had sprung up. Hartnell made a tour of the missions and found that they had greatly deteriorated. At his suggestion he himself was made superintendent of the entire system, and the administrators became mere clerical subordinates held to strict accountability. When he endeavored to put the new regulation into effect in 1840, however, he met with so much opposition on the part of certain administrators that he resigned. Thus ended the most promising effort of the times at restoration of the missions. It was in 1842 that the former Zacatecan father-president Garcia Diego was invested with the authority of a bishop of the two California's. He was empowered to use the Pius Fund to establish a cathedral and a college for the education of priests. It seemed now that the long-delayed delivery to the secular clergy or the religious side of the mission work might be made when, presto, a new government in Mexico refused to turn over the Pius Fund to Bishop Garcia and diverted it into the Mexican treasury. In 1843 the mission seemed at length to be exhausted. In hopes of making them yield more profitably, Governor Miquel Torrena restored them to the friars. But the corpse was now indeed too dead to be resuscitated. So, in 1844, in order to raise funds for general defense and view of the possibility of war between the United States and Mexico, Miquel Torrena authorized a sale or rental to the missions. In the next two years, all but Santa Barbara passed into private hands, though the titles of purchasers were subsequently invalidated by the United States government. At the time of the transfer, but little was left. In February 1844, Father Duran reported that San Miguel and San Luis Obispo were virtually abandoned. Borísima Concepción had about 200 Indians, as against 1,522 in 1804. Santa Barbara had 287, compared with 1,892 in 1803, and the other southern missions were in an utterly hopeless condition. On June 1, 1846, Narciso Duran, who had resided in Alta California 40 years and had been Father President most of the time since 1825, 1825 to 1827, 1831 to 1838, and 1844 to 1846, died in his 70th year. He has been called the last and perhaps the ablest of the Franciscan prelates, but as the outstanding figure in the decline he must have necessity yield place to the more fortunate Sarah and Lasuane. However that may be, his death is taken as marking the end of the missions. No successor was appointed, for none was needed. End of Chapter 34 Chapter 35 A History of California The Spanish Period This Libre Box recording is in the public domain. Chapter 35 Waiting for Old Glory, 1835 to 1847 After Figueroaís death, Alta California entered upon a checkered career of no definite tendency, unless it were that the province was driving rapidly toward a fresh change of flag. Home rule, restoration of Mexican governors, and home rule again followed in rapid succession. Internal dissension marked the periods of home rule, while the United Front was presented against the Mexican governors. Meanwhile, infiltration of American settlers was constantly going on. That was a decisive factor. No fewer than four men, one of them for two terms, held the Office of Governor in 1836. Jose Castro had succeeded Figueroa in 1835, but some of the southern leaders objected to him. One of them, Jose Antonio Carrillo as Provincial Deputy in the Mexican Congress, had procured an act making Los Angeles the capital. The diputación declined to go to Los Angeles and recognized Castro. He resigned on January 2, 1836, in favor of Lieutenant Colonel Gutiérrez, who had all along been accepted as a military commandant, the jefe militar. In April, Colonel Mariano Chico arrived from Mexico as the new governor, and in May took over the office. Chico lasted three months. During which time, he made himself the most hated ruler the province ever had. He began by announcing the New Mexican Centralist Constitution, replacing the Federalist Document of 1824, and this was accepted as easily as all previous governmental changes had been. This was about the only action he took that did not stir up opposition. The climax came when he appeared in the place of honor at a public function accompanied by his mistress whom he endeavored to pass off as his niece, and by a woman under arrest at the time for adultery. The uproar over this incident was so great that Chico took refuge on board ship and on July 31 sailed from Monterey to Mexico. Gutiérrez resumed power, but was unable to check the dissatisfaction of the Californians. As a centralist, he was unpopular, not because of any real objection to that political idea, but because Chico had espoused it. The Californians felt that it was time they should have a governor of their own choosing. A quarrel with Gutiérrez gave Juan Bautista Alvarado an opportunity to put himself at the head of a revolution. Alvarado was only 27, but was already a leading figure in the province, endowed perhaps with greater political capacity than any man of those times. Much better informed than most Californians as a result of his readings when Amir Stripling in Salah's library, he became Secretary of the Depotacion at 17 years of age and in 1836 was a full-fledged deputy in that body and a Custom House official. Following his dispute with Gutiérrez over questions of provincial revenue, Alvarado left Monterey and went to Sonoma. There he tried to persuade his uncle Mariano Vallejo to join him in a revolt against Gutiérrez and centralism, but Vallejo was lukewarm. Arrived at San Jose on his return, he found three of his fellow deputies, Antonio Buelna, Jose Castro and Jose Antonio de la Guerra, son of the already mentioned Captain de la Guerra, who enthusiastically subscribed to his plan. A party of 13 men was formed to march on Monterey. On the way, other Californians joined them until they numbered about 75 and presently they were reinforced by a terror-inspiring band of Mexicans, Indians and Americans under Isaac Graham, a celebrated American trapper and marksman who had set up a distillery in the Pajaro Valley. The army now proceeded to Monterey. Late on November 3rd, Alvarado quietly took possession of various strategic points of Monterey and on the 4th the battle began. Alvarado made his forces seem larger than they were by marching them in the open from one place to another and causing them to return unseen, perhaps to repeat the open march again. Then he ordered his men to start firing. Only a single ball could be found that would fit any of the cannon, but with this they hit the governor's house. That ended the battle. Gutierrez surrendered and was put aboard a ship bound for Mexico. Alvarado had won, but now he had the much more difficult task of consolidating the many divergent elements under his own authority. Virtually dominated by him, the Diputación declared the independence of the province on November 7th, 1836 under the name of the free and sovereign state of Alta California with a qualification to the effect that it was to endure until Mexico returned to the Federalist Constitution of 1824. Alvarado became governor and Monterey was recognized as a capital while the Diputación took itself to the new title of Constituent Congress. It soon developed that Los Angeles was not in favor of independence, so in January 1837 Alvarado tried the persuasive argument of a quick march south. A much threatened resistance did not develop, and he entered Los Angeles on the 23rd. The Southern Metropolis now discovered that it had no objection whatsoever to Alvarado, indeed it announced itself as equally opposed to centralism and Mexican governors, though doubtful of the wisdom of independence. Alvarado agreed to hold elections for a new legislative body which should review the proceedings of the self-styled Constituent Congress. Thereupon Los Angeles most gracefully submitted. The elections were held, and the new body confirmed the main features of the laws made by the old, except that it substituted a petition to Mexico to restore federalism and let Alta California govern itself for the previous Declaration of Independence. The law following the agreement with Los Angeles was but temporary. With the coming of spring, young men's fancies both north and south turned lightly to thoughts of revolution. The opposition in the south was the more formidable. Former Governor's Alvarado headed a movement at San Diego ostensibly for restoration of Mexican rule. Los Angeles fell into line and presently the now familiar scene of sectional differences reached a crucial stage. Northern troops were at Rincón Pass near San Buenaventura and Southern troops at San Fernando. Battle was imminent when suddenly all was changed by a factor as strange, if not so spectacular, as the famous Avila charge against Governor Victoria. Captain Andres Castillero, who had left Alta California with Gutierrez, now returned with a new centralist constitution of 1836. Since it represented opposition to Alvarado, the hitherto supposedly federalist south adopted it with enthusiasm. Early in July Castillero passed over to Alvarado's lines, and Alvarado also accepted it. Nothing could show more clearly than this that political ideals in Alta California were little more than catchphrases behind which individuals fought for power. The Californians were merely in the stage of boss rule which characterized other Spanish American lands of that day. Alvarado's action was due, no doubt, to his own precarious hold on the governorship. Even in Monterey there had recently been a temporarily successful uprising against him. By swearing allegiance to the Mexican constitution he was unable to retain power as acting governor and got Castillero's promise to urge his formal appointment by the authorities in Mexico. The south was not satisfied, but now had no plausible issues so the revolution died a warning. The old regime was restored and with it the dipotacion returned as successor to the constituent congress. The south was not long in finding an issue with which to combat Alvarado and the north. Jose Antonio Carrillo came back from Mexico in October 1837 with the information that his brother Carlos Antonio had been appointed governor. Nothing in Alvarado's career illustrates his political cleverness better than his handling of this situation. He knew that Castillero could not have reached Mexico by the time of Carrillo's appointment and had well-grounded beliefs that there was something questionable about the Carrillo case anyway, so he played for time depending on Castillero to arrange matters eventually in Mexico and feeling certain that the Mexican government occupied as it was with more pressing affairs would recognize the claimant in Alta California with the firmest grip. So while the Carrillos fulminated issuing demands and threatening him with death, Alvarado proposed conferences or sought other means to postpone the issue. By March 1838 he had some intimations that his cause had triumphed and resolved to further it by striking at the Carrillos. The southern troops were leisurely besieging Santa Barbara which had refused to submit to them. Alvarado sent Castro south to attack them. Joining the kerosene of Santa Barbara, Castro got together a force of about a hundred men and advanced against the enemy reported to number 110. The battle was fought at San Buenaventura. Castro seized Rincon Pass and bombarded the southern troops with cannon shot on March 27th and 28th. During this time one of Castro's men was killed, just how it cannot be stated, while there is no record that any of the enemy were hit. The Carrillo army seems to have decided that the battle had gone far enough and slipped away under cover of darkness. Castro pursued and captured 70 of them. It was the first of April when the triumphant northern captain entered Los Angeles. But the Carrillos were not yet ready to admit defeat. A new army was raised at San Diego, wherefor Alvarado himself marched south. At a point south of San Juan Capistrano, Colas Flores, the two armies met, but hardly clashed. The battle, as Bancroft says, quote, was for the most part one of tongue and pen, though a cannon was fired once or twice, doing no harm. Alvarado was more than a match for Carlos Carrillo in diplomacy, persuading him to disband his troops as a preliminary to further discussion. This virtually ended opposition to Alvarado. Los Angeles recognized him as governor, though San Diego for some time remained hostile. Not until August 1838 did Alvarado learn definitely that Castillero had been successful, and not until November did he receive formal notification of his appointment. Castillero was rewarded, presently, by an election to the Mexican Congress. Altacalifornia now settled down to a few years of much-needed freedom from internal disorder. Battles of the past few years had indeed caused little bloodshed, but the lack of security of life, limb, and property had been very real. One has only to read the original narratives of men like Alfred Robinson, an American merchant in California, to realize that there was no element of comrade opera to them in the Civil Wars of the 30s. Alvarado turned his attention, after 1838, to many problems of administration which had, for several years, been allowed to drag along as they would. Among other matters was that of dealing with the Indians. Along the entire frontier they had become more than usually bold. On one occasion they abducted or ranch as two daughters. On another they drove off 1,200 animals from San Luis Obispo. Many battles were fought, especially by Vallejo, who was the most successful campaigner of the times. The administration of the missions, the reorganization of the government, which had recently been reunited to Baja California and made a full-fledged Department of the Mexican Republic, consideration of the laws of trade and custom regulations, and the repair of the military establishment were more or less actively taken up. In these matters, Alvarado did not meet with such striking success as in the factional strife of the preceding years, though it is doubtful that anybody else could have done better. It is charged, indeed, that from about 1839 he concerned himself rather more with convivial pleasures than with the affairs of state. Meanwhile, a formidable rival appeared on the scene in the person of his uncle, Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo. Vallejo had been appointed military governor or comandante at the same time that the civil authority was formally bestowed upon Alvarado by the Mexican government. For years, Vallejo had been not only an efficient soldier, but also a capable businessman and virtual ruler of the North Bay District, undoubtedly the best-managed section of Alta California. Vallejo did not propose to play second fiddle to Alvarado in military affairs and started in on his own initiative to exact the same discipline at other posts that he had long maintained in the North. He also tendered gratuitous advice to Alvarado on such other matters as foreign trade, revenue, and administration of the missions, and on this last name subject he might indeed make valuable suggestions since he had supervised missions in his vicinity with greater success than had been met with anywhere else. It was not long before a pronounced coolness developed between the two. The trouble also seemed likely to break out in the South under José Antonio Carrillo or Pio Pico, the latter of whom had deeply resented the refusal of Alvarado's government to set up Los Angeles as the capital. In addition, there were rumors of plotting on the part of the less desirable foreigners who made a rendezvous of Graham's Bar and boasted that England or the United States would soon get Alta California. These incidents decided the political-minded Alvarado to make a spectacular play. In April 1840, Alvarado caused Graham and a number of others of his following to be arrested and four days later they would put aboard ship 39 and all and sent to Mexico. Yet other precautions were taken against the alleged foreign peril and glowing proclamations were published telling how Alvarado had saved the country. Thus did the Governor ward off threatened internal strife, a strife which was more apt to have arisen among his Spanish-Californian opponents than from Graham and his men. As for Graham, he and about half his companions were allowed to return in the following year. Both that year and the next, foreigners arrived in ever-increasing numbers, but Alvarado did not again take action. Friction between himself and Vallejo developed to such a point, however, that the Mexican government resolved to reunite the civil and military power in one person. To avoid offending either Alvarado or Vallejo, it was necessary to relieve both of their authority and to send out a Governor from Mexico, though the two Spanish-Californians received a notable promotion in military rank. On December 31st, 1842, their rule came to an end. Both continued to be prominent in California affairs, Vallejo especially, and both lived many years after the change of flag, and indeed to a green old age. The new Governor, General Manuel Miquel Torrena, was a genial gentleman who was in many ways deserving of better fortune than faint accorded him as ruler of the Californias, though he was a man of no great strength. Remembering that Texas had been lost to the Republic as a result of the coming of American settlers, the Mexican authorities were particularly desirous of checking this potential danger. They therefore made an unusual effort to provide Miquel Torrena with an army. But such an army, the majority were liberated convicts, and the regulars that were provided, officers and all, were the worst elements in the commands from which they were obtained. The term cholos, which the Californians applied to them, is indicative of the low character of these defenders of the country. Alfred Robinson, who was at San Diego when Miquel Torrena and his cholos arrived on August 25th, 1842, has this to say of the soldiery, quote, they presented a state of wretchedness and misery unequaled. Not one individual among them possessed a jacket or pantaloons. Naked, and like the savage Indians, they concealed their nudity with dirty, miserable blankets. The females were not much better off, for the scantiness of their mean apparel was too apparent for modest observers. They appeared like convicts, and indeed the greater part of them had been charged with a crime either of murder or theft. And these were the soldiers sent to subdue this happy country, end quote. Miquel Torrena, who managed indeed to provide his men with uniforms, remained at San Diego for several weeks. By day he kept them busy drilling, but at night they roamed far and wide, stealing whatever they could lay hands upon. It was with pleasure that San Diego saw them depart. Los Angeles and Santa Barbara soon learned that a most astonishing thing had occurred. On October 19th, 1842, Monterey had been required to surrender to an American fleet under Commodore Thomas Jones. In the double belief that war between the United States and Mexico had been declared, and that England was desirous of picking up Alta California for herself, Jones had made a hurried voyage from Peru and had indeed taken possession of Monterey. Miquel Torrena, then at San Fernando, issued a fiery proclamation announcing his impatience to fly at the dastardly invader, but decided that for the present he could fly better from a point further south. So he returned to Los Angeles. Meanwhile, convinced of his mistake, Jones had hauled down the American flag on the 21st and restored the status quo. Miquel Torrena remained at Los Angeles until July 1843, receiving formal delivery by proxy of Alvarado's government while still at that place. The citizens of Los Angeles saw him go with mingle joy and regret, joy over the departure of the cholos, but regret because it meant loss of the prestige what they so greatly desired of being the seat of government. Monterey rejoiced, but soon realized that their armed protectors were the worst pests they had ever been obliged to endure. Miquel Torrena could not check the depredations of his cholos, but frequently made good their thefts out of his own pocket. The crimes of his soldiers were but one of Miquel Torrena's many difficulties. Alvarado had left a treasury with exactly twenty-five cents in it. Provincial revenues, always too scant to serve provincial needs, were now more heavily strained than ever if only to sustain the cholo army. The governor did what he could to obtain sufficient funds, but without conspicuous success. With respect to the Americans now rapidly pouring through the mountain passes, he did nothing. Indeed, with the forces at his command he could hardly expel those already in the province or prevent those who sought to come. So he took the opposite course and received them with kindness and, often, humane attentions. The Indians of the interior were not less active than before, and Pio Pico again raised the issue of making Los Angeles the capital, and was incensed at the governor when he vetoed the plan. Talk of revolution once more became current, despite the personal popularity of Miquel Torrena himself. As summed up by one writer, quote, the Californians, or some of the most influential among them, began to regret the union of the civil with a military power and to be dissatisfied with the rule of a foreigner. They did not dislike Miquel Torrena himself. On the contrary, he had won their regard by his agreeable manners, his generosity in making them whole, and perhaps more than whole when his cholos dispoiled them, and perhaps also by his indolence which so closely resembled their own. He had quite won the favor of the friars by restoring the missions to their care, and by marrying the mistress he had brought with him from Mexico. He had established better schools in the Pueblos and principal settlements than had ever been known before in California, and he had helped the bishop to establish an ecclesiastical seminary at Santa Inés. In fact, no foreign governor since Boracá had done so much to win the favor of his people, end quote. The revolution at length broke out in November, 1844. After several weeks of maneuvering between Salinas and Santa Clara, an agreement was reached in December, according to which Miquel Torrena was to send his cholos back to Mexico within three months. It soon afterward became apparent that the governor had no intention of fulfilling the treaty, but on the contrary was getting ready to deliver his opponents a knockout blow. Among others, he enlisted a number of foreigners, mostly Americans under John A. Sutter, whose establishment at New Helvetia, or modern Sacramento, had, since its founding in 1839, become the principal rendezvous of the immigrants by the overland trails. Isaac Graham also joined Miquel Torrena with a contingent of sharpshooters. Alvarado and Castro, who were among the leaders of the opposition, hastened south, gathering adherents as they went. Arrived before Los Angeles, they attacked the garrison and captured the city in a battle of January 20, 1845, in which several men were killed or wounded. They made much of the fact that Miquel Torrena's army consisted largely of foreigners, procuring enlistments to their own forces as a result of the patriotic order that suroused. Meanwhile, they too recruited a foreign company. On February 20 and 21, 1845, the Battle of Cahuenga Pass was fought at Alamos, west of the past, on the 20th, and at the Verdugo Ranch on the other side on the 21st. The forces engaged were larger than usual. It is said that the Californians had no fewer than 400 men. They also had two cannon as against Miquel Torrena's three. On both sides there were a number of foreigners and great part Americans, but some of the more prominent among them in each camp were at work pointing out how this was none of their quarrel. So the foreigners in each army did little, if anything, but watched the fight. The engagement on the 20th was mainly an artillery duel, with nobody taking any chances of getting hit. It is said that one horse on the Patriot side had his head shot off, and perhaps another was killed, while Miquel Torrena's casualties were limited to the wounding of one mule. On the 21st, neither man nor animal fell. And then Miquel Torrena capitulated. Indeed, his cause was hopeless, now that the foreign rifleman would not aid him. He agreed to leave Alta California, taking his cholos with him, and late in March he did so. With his departure the last real vestige of Mexican rule was gone, though a shadowy allegiance was retained some few months longer. A divided local authority was now restored with Bu Pico as civil governor and José Castro military commandant. Immediately the lack of harmony between North and South revived. Pico, earliest in a long line of Los Angeles boosters, removed the capital to the southern metropolis, while Castro and the provincial treasurer and Custom South officials remained at Monterey. Even in his own section, Pico was beset with troubles, including a plotted uprising by that stormy petrol of Alta California politics, José Antonio Carrillo. The plot was discovered, and Carrillo was forced to add yet another exile to several in his career which had gone before. Differences of opinion between Pico and Castro were early in evidence. The most serious question was that of a division of the provincial revenues. Debt were pressing and salaries were either unpaid or being scaled down, a situation which had become chronic, but needs were greater than ever. Pico was in a position to command legislation favoring the civil branch as opposed to the military, but Castro and his friends were in control of the funds. Affairs were shaping themselves for a fresh civil war when there came a burst from the blue that gave a new turn to the situation. The news concerned a long-predicted uprising of foreigners under the leadership in the present instance of John C. Fremont, an officer of the United States Army. Events now moved rapidly. In the celebrated bear flag revolt of 1846, Fremont and his companions announced the establishment of an independent California Republic. Meanwhile, war between the United States and Mexico had broken out in the spring of that same year, and the campaign for an American-controlled independent California was transformed into a conquest by the United States. The story belongs to the historian of American California. Here it need only be said that the Spanish Californians struck a gallant blow before they succumbed to the inevitable. Acknowledging the rule of José María Flores, they prepared to resist the invasion of General Stephen W. Kearney, who late in 1846 entered the province by way of the Anzarut turning off toward San Diego. On December 6 came the decisive clash between the respective heirs of Spanish and Anglo-Saxon civilization at San Pascual, a few miles below Escondido. Kearney remained in possession of the field, but only after suffering a loss of 21 killed and 16 wounded. The honors of the day may well be accorded to the Spanish Californians, who, skillfully commanded by Andres Pico, got off without loss of life, though a few of them were wounded. There were indeed several more skirmishes between the opposing forces, but the local authorities soon realized that resistance was hopeless. On January 13, 1847, a peace was agreed upon in Alta California, and with the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo between the United States and Mexico on February 2, 1848, the passing of the old Spanish province under the American flag was formally acknowledged. What seemed almost like destiny with not a little assistance from the goddess of chance had now been fulfilled. The work of Galvez and Bucarelli, worthily carried on by the Spanish Californians, had reached its logical conclusion. End of Chapter 35 End of A History of California, the Spanish Period by Charles Edward Chapman