CHAPTER XVIII
Easter Sunday—“Sail Ho!”—Whales—San
Juan—Romance of Hide-Droghing—San Diego Again
The next Sunday was Easter Sunday, and as
there had been no liberty at San Pedro, it was our turn to go
ashore and misspend another Sabbath. Soon after breakfast, a large
boat, filled with men in blue jackets, scarlet caps, and various
colored under-clothes, bound ashore on liberty, left the Italian
ship, and passed under our stern; the men singing beautiful Italian
boat-songs, all the way, in fine, full chorus. Among the songs I
recognized the favorite “O Pescator dell’ onda.”ee
It brought back to my mind pianofortes, drawing-rooms, young ladies
singing, and a thousand other things which as little befitted me,
in my situation, to be thinking upon. Supposing that the whole day
would be too long a time to spend ashore, as there was no place to
which we could take a ride, we remained quietly on board until
after dinner. We were then pulled ashore in the stern of the boat,
and, with orders to be on the beach at sundown, we took our way for
the town. There, everything wore the appearance of a holyday. The
people were all dressed in their best; the men riding about on
horseback among the houses, and the women sitting on carpets before
the doors. Under the piazza of a “pulperia,” two men were seated,
decked out with knots of ribbons and bouquets, and playing the
violin and the Spanish guitar. These are the only instruments, with
the exception of the drums and trumpets at Monterey that I ever
heard in California; and I suspect they play upon no others, for at
a great fandango at which I was afterwards present, and
where they mustered all the music they could find, there were three
violins and two guitars, and no other instrument. As it was now too
near the middle of the day to see any dancing and hearing that a
bull was expected down from the country, to be baited in the
presidio square, in the course of an hour or two we took a stroll
among the houses. Inquiring for an American who, we had been told,
had married in the place, and kept a shop, we were directed to a
long, low building, at the end of which was a door, with a sign
over it, in Spanish. Entering the shop, we found no one in it, and
the whole had an empty, deserted appearance. In a few minutes the
man made his appearance, and apologized for having nothing to
entertain us with, saying that he had had a fandango at his house
the night before, and the people had eaten and drunk up
everything.
“Oh yes!” said I, “Easter holydays!”
“No!” said he, with a singular expression to his
face; “I had a little daughter die the other day, and that’s the
custom of the country.”
Here I felt a little strangely, not knowing what to
say, or whether to offer consolation or no, and was beginning to
retire, when he opened a side door and told us to walk in. Here I
was no less astonished ; for I found a large room, filled with
young girls, from three or four years of age up to fifteen and
sixteen, dressed all in white, with wreaths of flowers on their
heads, and bouquets in their hands. Following our conductor through
all these girls, who were playing about in high spirits, we came to
a table, at the end of the room, covered with a white cloth, on
which lay a coffin, about three feet long, with the body of his
child. The coffin was lined on the outside with white cloth, and on
the inside with white satin, and was strewed with flowers. Through
an open door we saw, in another room, a few elderly people in
common dresses; while the benches and tables thrown up in a corner,
and the stained walls, gave evident signs of the last night’s “high
go.” Feeling, like Garrick,ef
between tragedy and comedy, an uncertainty of purpose and a little
awkwardness, I asked the man when the funeral would take place, and
being told that it would move toward the mission in about an hour,
took my leave.
To pass away the time, we took horses and rode down
to the beach, and there found three or four Italian sailors,
mounted, and riding up and down, on the hard sand, at a furious
rate. We joined them, and found it fine sport. The beach gave us a
stretch of a mile or more, and the horses flew over the smooth,
hard sand, apparently invigorated and excited by the salt
sea-breeze, and by the continual roar and dashing of the breakers.
From the beach we returned to the town, and finding that the
funeral procession had moved, rode on and overtook it, about
half-way to the mission. Here was as peculiar a sight as we had
seen before in the house; the one looking as much like a funeral
procession as the other did like a house of mourning. The little
coffin was borne by eight girls, who were continually relieved by
others, running forward from the procession and taking their
places. Behind it came a straggling company of girls, dressed as
before, in white and flowers, and including, I should suppose by
their numbers, nearly all the girls between five and fifteen in the
place. They played along on the way, frequently stopping and
running all together to talk to some one, or to pick up a flower,
and then running on again to overtake the coffin. There were a few
elderly women in common colors; and a herd of young men and boys,
some on foot and others mounted, followed them, or walked or rode
by their side, frequently interrupting them by jokes and questions.
But the most singular thing of all was, that two men walked, one on
each side of the coffin, carrying muskets in their hands, which
they continually loaded, and fired into the air. Whether this was
to keep off the evil spirits or not, I do not know. It was the only
interpretation that I could put upon it.
As we drew near the mission, we saw the great gate
thrown open, and the padre standing on the steps, with a crucifix
in hand. The mission is a large and deserted-looking place, the
out-buildings going to ruin, and everything giving one the
impression of decayed grandeur.27 A large
stone fountain threw out pure water, from four mouths, into a
basin, before the church door; and we were on the point of riding
up to let our horses drink, when it occurred to us that it might be
consecrated, and we forbore. Just at this moment, the bells set up
their harsh, discordant clang; and the procession moved into the
court. I was anxious to follow, and see the ceremony, but the horse
of one of my companions had become frightened, and was tearing off
toward the town; and having thrown his rider, and got one of his
feet caught in the saddle, which had slipped, was fast dragging and
ripping it to pieces. Knowing that my shipmate could not speak a
word of Spanish, and fearing that he would get into difficulty, I
was obliged to leave the ceremony and ride after him. I soon
overtook him, trudging along, swearing at the horse, and carrying
the remains of the saddle, which he had picked up on the road.
Going to the owner of the horse, we made a settlement with him, and
found him surprisingly liberal. All parts of the saddle were
brought back, and, being capable of repair, he was satisfied with
six reals. We thought it would have been a few dollars. We pointed
to the horse, which was now half way up one of the mountains; but
he shook his head, saying, “No importe!”egand
giving us to understand that he had plenty more.
Having returned to the town, we saw a great crowd
collected in the square before the principal pulperia, and riding
up, found that all these people—men, women, and children—had been
drawn together by a couple of bantam cocks. The cocks were in full
tilt, springing into one another, and the people were as eager,
laughing and shouting, as though the combatants had been men. There
had been a disappointment about the bull; he had broken his bail,
and taken himself off, and it was too late to get another; so the
people were obliged to put up with a cockfight. One of the bantams
having been knocked in the head, and had an eye put out, he gave
in, and two monstrous prize-cocks were brought on. These were the
object of the whole affair; the two bantams having been merely
served up as a first course, to collect the people together. Two
fellows came into the ring holding the cocks in their arms, and
stroking them, and running about on all fours, encouraging and
setting them on. Bets ran high, and, like most other contests, it
remained for some time undecided. They both showed great pluck, and
fought probably better and longer than their masters would have
done. Whether, in the end, it was the white or the red that beat, I
do not recollect; but, whichever it was, he strutted off with the
true veni-vidi-viciehlook,
leaving the other lying panting on his beam-ends.
This matter having been settled, we heard some talk
about “caballos” and “carréra,”ei
and seeing the people all streaming off in one direction, we
followed, and came upon a level piece of ground, just out of the
town, which was used as a race-course. Here the crowd soon became
thick again; the ground was marked off; the judges stationed; and
the horses led up to one end. Two fine-looking old gentlemen—Don
Carlos and Don Domingo, so called—held the stakes, and all was now
ready. We waited some time, during which we could just see the
horses twisting round and turning, until, at length, there was a
shout along the lines, and on they came—heads stretched out and
eyes starting;—working all over, both man and beast. The steeds
came by us like a couple of chain-shot—neck and neck; and now we
could see nothing but their backs, and their hind hoofs flying in
the air. As fast as the horses passed, the crowd broke up behind
them, and ran to the goal. When we got there, we found the horses
returning on a slow walk, having run far beyond the mark, and heard
that the long, bony one had come in head and shoulders before the
other. The riders were light-built men; had handkerchiefs tied
round their heads; and were bare-armed and bare-legged. The horses
were noble-looking beasts, not so sleek and combed as our Boston
stable-horses, but with fine limbs, and spirited eyes. After this
had been settled, and fully talked over, the crowd scattered again
and flocked back to the town.
Returning to the large pulperia, we found the
violin and guitar screaming and twanging away under the piazza,
where they had been all day. As it was now sundown, there began to
be some dancing. The Italian sailors danced, and one of our crew
exhibited himself in a sort of West India shuffle, much to the
amusement of the bystanders, who cried out, “Bravo!” “Otra vez!”
and “Vivan los marineros!”ej but
the dancing did not become general, as the women and the “gente de
razòn” had not yet made their appearance. We wished very much to
stay and see the style of dancing; but, although we had had our own
way during the day, yet we were, after all, but ’foremast Jacks;
and having been ordered to be on the beach by sundown, did not
venture to be more than an hour behind the time; so we took our way
down. We found the boat just pulling ashore through the breakers,
which were running high, there having been a heavy fog outside,
which, from some cause or other, always brings on, or precedes a
heavy sea. Liberty-men are privileged from the time they leave the
vessel until they step on board again; so we took our places in the
stern sheets, and were congratulating ourselves upon getting off
dry, when a great comber broke fore and aft the boat, and wet us
through and through, filling the boat half full of water. Having
lost her buoyancy by the weight of the water, she dropped heavily
into every sea that struck her, and by the time we had pulled out
of the surf into deep water, she was but just afloat, and we were
up to our knees. By the help of a small bucket and our hats, we
bailed her out, got on board, hoisted the boats, eat our supper,
changed our clothes, gave (as is usual) the whole history of our
day’s adventures to those who had staid on board, and having taken
a night-smoke, turned-in. Thus ended our second day’s liberty on
shore.
On Monday morning, as an offset to our day’s sport,
we were all set to work “tarring down” the rigging. Some got
girt-lines up for riding down the stays and back-stays, and others
tarred the shrouds, lifts, etc., laying out on the yards, and
coming down the rigging. We overhauled our bags and took out our
old tarry trowsers and frocks, which we had used when we tarred
down before, and were all at work in the rigging by sunrise. After
breakfast, we had the satisfaction of seeing the Italian ship’s
boat go ashore, filled with men, gaily dressed, as on the day
before, and singing their barcaroles.ek The
Easter holydays are kept up on shore during three days; and being a
Catholic vessel, the crew had the advantage of them. For two
successive days, while perched up in the rigging, covered with tar
and engaged in our disagreeable work, we saw these fellows going
ashore in the morning, and coming off again at night, in high
spirits. So much for being Protestants. There’s no danger of
Catholicism’s spreading in New England; Yankees can’t afford the
time to be Catholics. American ship-masters get nearly three weeks
more labor out of their crews, in the course of a year, than the
masters of vessels from Catholic countries. Yankees don’t keep
Christmas, and ship-masters at sea never know when Thanksgiving
comes, so Jack has no festival at all.
About noon, a man aloft called out “Sail ho!” and
looking round, we saw the head sails of a vessel coming round the
point. As she drew round, she showed the broadside of a full-rigged
brig, with the Yankee ensign at her peak. We ran up our stars and
stripes, and, knowing that there was no American brig on the coast
but ourselves, expected to have news from home. She rounded-to and
let go her anchor, but the dark faces on her yards, when they
furled the sails, and the Babel on deck, soon made known that she
was from the Islands. Immediately afterwards, a boat’s crew came
aboard, bringing her skipper, and from them we learned that she was
from Oahu, and was engaged in the same trade with the Ayacucho,
Loriotte, etc., between the coast, the Sandwich Islands, and the
leeward coast of Peru and Chili. Her captain and officers were
Americans, and also a part of her crew; the rest were Islanders.
She was called the Catalina, and, like all the other vessels in
that trade, except the Ayacucho, her papers and colors were from
Uncle Sam. They, of course, brought us no news, and we were doubly
disappointed, for we had thought, at first, it might be the ship
which we were expecting from Boston.
After lying here about a fortnight, and collecting
all the hides the place afforded, we set sail again for San Pedro.
There we found the brig which we had assisted in getting off lying
at anchor, with a mixed crew of Americans, English, Sandwich
Islanders, Spaniards, and Spanish Indians; and, though much smaller
than we, yet she had three times the number of men; and she needed
them, for her officers were Californians. No vessels in the world
go so poorly manned as American and English; and none do so well. A
Yankee brig of that size would have had a crew of four men, and
would have worked round and round her. The Italian ship had a crew
of thirty men; nearly three times as many as the Alert, which was
afterwards on the coast, and was of the same size; yet the Alert
would get under weigh and come-to in half the time, and get two
anchors, while they were all talking at once—jabbering like a
parcel of “Yahoos,”el and
running about decks to find their cat-block.
There was only one point in which they had the
advantage over us, and that was in lightening their labors in the
boats by their songs. The Americans are a time and money saving
people, but have not yet, as a nation, learned that music may be
“turned to account.” We pulled the long distances to and from the
shore, with our loaded boats, without a word spoken, and with
discontented looks, while they not only lightened the labor of
rowing, but actually made it pleasant and cheerful, by their music.
So true is it, that—
“For the tired slave, song lifts the languid
oar,
And bids it aptly fall, with chime
That beautifies the fairest shore,
And mitigates the harshest clime.”em
And bids it aptly fall, with chime
That beautifies the fairest shore,
And mitigates the harshest clime.”em
We lay about a week in San Pedro, and got under
weigh for San Diego, intending to stop at San Juan, as the
south-easter season was nearly over, and there was little or no
danger.
This being the spring season, San Pedro, as well as
all the other open ports upon the coast, was filled with whales,
that had come in to make their annual visit upon soundings. For the
first few days that we were here and at Santa Barbara, we watched
them with great interest—calling out “there she blows!” every time
we saw the spout of one breaking the surface of the water; but they
soon became so common that we took little notice of them. They
often “broke” very near us; and one thick, foggy night, during a
dead calm, while I was standing anchor-watch, one of them rose so
near, that he struck our cable, and made all surge again. He did
not seem to like the encounter much himself, for he sheered off,
and spouted at a good distance. We once came very near running one
down in the gig, and should probably have been knocked to pieces
and blown sky-high. We had been on board the little Spanish brig,
and were returning, stretching out well at our oars, the little
boat going like a swallow; our backs were forward, (as is always
the case in pulling,) and the captain, who was steering, was not
looking ahead, when, all at once, we heard the spout of a whale
directly ahead. “Back water! back water, for your lives!” shouted
the captain; and we backed our blades in the water and brought the
boat to in a smother of foam. Turning our heads, we saw a great,
rough, hump-backed whale, slowly crossing our fore foot, within
three or four yards of the boat’s stem. Had we not backed water
just as we did, we should inevitably have gone smash upon him,
striking him with our stem just about amidships. He took no notice
of us, but passed slowly on, and dived a few yards beyond us,
throwing his tail high in the air. He was so near that we had a
perfect view of him and as may be supposed, had no desire to see
him nearer. He was a disgusting creature; with a skin rough, hairy,
and of an iron-grey color. This kind differs much from the sperm,
in color and skin, and is said to be fiercer. We saw a few sperm
whales; but most of the whales that come upon the coast are
fin-backs, hump-backs, and right-whales, which are more difficult
to take, and are said not to give oil enough to pay for the
trouble. For this reason whale-ships do not come upon the coast
after them. Our captain, together with Captain Nye of the Loriotte,
who had been in a whale-ship, thought of making an attempt upon one
of them with two boats’ crews, but as we had only two harpoons and
no proper lines, they gave it up.
During the months of March, April, and May, these
whales appear in great numbers in the open ports of Santa Barbara,
San Pedro, etc., and hover off the coast, while a few find their
way into the close harbors of San Diego and Monterey. They are all
off again before midsummer, and make their appearance on the
“off-shore ground.” We saw some fine “schools” of sperm whales,
which are easily distinguished by their spout, blowing away, a few
miles to windward, on our passage to San Juan.
Coasting along on the quiet shore of the Pacific,
we came to anchor, in twenty fathoms’ water, almost out at sea, as
it were, and directly abreast of a steep hill which overhung the
water, and was twice as high as our royal-mast-head. We had heard
much of this place, from the Lagoda’s crew, who said it was the
worst place in California. The shore is rocky, and directly exposed
to the southeast, so that vessels are obliged to slip and run for
their lives on the first sign of a gale; and late as it was in the
season, we got up our slip-rope and gear, though we meant to stay
only twenty-four hours. We pulled the agent ashore, and were
ordered to wait for him, while he took a circuitous way round the
hill to the mission, which was hidden behind it. We were glad of
the opportunity to examine this singular place, and hauling the
boat up and making her well fast, took different directions up and
down the beach, to explore it.
San Juan is the only romantic spot in California.
The country here for several miles is high table-land, running
boldly to the shore, and breaking off in a steep hill, at the foot
of which the waters of the Pacific are constantly dashing. For
several miles the water washes the very base of the hill, or breaks
upon ledges and fragments of rocks which run out into the sea. Just
where we landed was a small cove, or “bight,” which gave us, at
high tide, a few square feet of sand-beach between the sea and the
bottom of the hill. This was the only landing-place. Directly
before us, rose the perpendicular height of four or five hundred
feet. How we were to get hides down, or goods up, upon the
table-land on which the mission was situated, was more than we
could tell. The agent had taken a long circuit, and yet had
frequently to jump over breaks, and climb up steep places, in the
ascent. No animal but a man or monkey could get up it. However,
that was not our look-out; and knowing that the agent would be gone
an hour or more, we strolled about, picking up shells, and
following the sea where it tumbled in, roaring and spouting, among
the crevices of the great rocks. What a sight, thought I, must this
be in a south-easter! The rocks were as large as those of Nahant or
Newport, but, to my eye, more grand and broken. Beside, there was a
grandeur in everything around, which gave almost a solemnity to the
scene: a silence and solitariness which affected everything! Not a
human being but ourselves for miles; and no sound heard but the
pulsations of the great Pacific! and the great steep hill rising
like a wall, and cutting us off from all the world, but the “world
of waters!” I separated myself from the rest and sat down on a
rock, just where the sea ran in and formed a fine spouting horn.
Compared with the plain, dull sand-beach of the rest of the coast,
this grandeur was as refreshing as a great rock in a weary land. It
was almost the first time that I had been positively alone—free
from the sense that human beings were at my elbow, if not talking
with me—since I had left home. My better nature returned strong
upon me. Everything was in accordance with my state of feeling, and
I experienced a glow of pleasure at finding that what of poetry and
romance I ever had in me, had not been entirely deadened by the
laborious and frittering life I had led. Nearly an hour did I sit,
almost lost in the luxury of this entire new scene of the play in
which I had been so long acting, when I was aroused by the distant
shouts of my companions, and saw that they were collecting
together, as the agent had made his appearance, on his way back to
our boat.
We pulled aboard, and found the long-boat hoisted
out, and nearly laden with goods; and after dinner, we all went on
shore in the quarter-boat, with the long-boat in tow. As we drew
in, we found an ox-cart and a couple of men standing directly on
the brow of the hill; and having landed, the captain took his way
round the hill, ordering me and one other to follow him. We
followed, picking our way out, and jumping and scrambling up,
walking over briers and prickly pears, until we came to the top.
Here the country stretched out for miles as far as the eye could
reach, on a level, table surface; and the only habitation in sight
was the small white mission of San Juan Capistrano, with a few
Indian huts about it, standing in a small hollow, about a mile from
where we were. Reaching the brow of the hill where the cart stood,
we found several piles of hides, and Indians sitting round them.
One or two other carts were coming slowly on from the mission, and
the captain told us to begin and throw the hides down. This, then,
was the way they were to be got down: thrown down, one at a time, a
distance of four hundred feet! This was doing the business on a
great scale. Standing on the edge of the hill and looking down the
perpendicular height, the sailors,
—“That walk upon the beach,
Appeared like mice; and our tall anchoring bark
Diminished to her cock; her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight.”en
Appeared like mice; and our tall anchoring bark
Diminished to her cock; her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight.”en
Down this height we pitched the hides, throwing
them as far out into the air as we could; and as they were all
large, stiff, and doubled, like the cover of a book, the wind took
them, and they swayed and eddied about, plunging and rising in the
air, like a kite when it has broken its string. As it was now low
tide, there was no danger of their falling into the water, and as
fast as they came to ground, the men below picked them up, and
taking them on their heads, walked off with them to the boat. It
was really a picturesque sight: the great height; the scaling of
the hides; and the continual walking to and fro of the men, who
looked like mites, on the beach! This was the romance of
hide-droghing!
Some of the hides lodged in cavities which were
under the bank and out of our sight, being directly under us; but
by sending others down in the same direction, we succeeded in
dislodging them. Had they remained there, the captain said he
should have sent on board for a couple of pairs of long halyards,
and got some one to have gone down for them. It was said that one
of the crew of an English brig went down in the same way, a few
years before. We looked over, and thought it would not be a welcome
task, especially for a few paltry hides; but no one knows what he
can do until he is called upon; for, six months afterwards, I went
down the same place by a pair of top-gallant studding-sail
halyards, to save a half a dozen hides which had lodged
there.
Having thrown them all down, we took our way back
again, and found the boat loaded and ready to start. We pulled off;
took the hides all aboard; hoisted in the boats; hove up our
anchor; made sail; and before sundown, were on our way to San
Diego.
Friday, May 8th, 1835. Arrived at San Diego.
Here we found the little harbor deserted. The Lagoda, Ayacucho,
Loriotte, and all, had left the coast, and we were nearly alone.
All the hide-houses on the beach, but ours, were shut up, and the
Sandwich Islanders, a dozen or twenty in number, who had worked for
the other vessels and been paid off when they sailed, were living
on the beach, keeping up a grand carnival. A Russian discovery-ship
which had been in this port a few years before, had built a large
oven for baking bread, and went away, leaving it standing. This,
the Sandwich Islanders took possession of, and had kept, ever
since, undisturbed. It was big enough to hold six or eight men—that
is, it was as large as a ship’s forecastle; had a door at the side,
and a vent-hole at top. They covered it with Oahu mats, for a
carpet; stopped up the vent-hole in bad weather, and made it their
head-quarters. It was now inhabited by as many as a dozen or twenty
men, who lived there in complete idleness-drinking, playing cards,
and carousing in every way. They bought a bullock once a week,
which kept them in meat, and one of them went up to the town every
day to get fruit, liquor, and provisions. Besides this, they had
bought a cask of ship-bread, and a barrel of flour from the Lagoda,
before she sailed. There they lived, having a grand time, and
caring for nobody. Captain T—eo was
anxious to get three or four of them to come on board the Pilgrim,
as we were so much diminished in numbers; and went up to the oven
and spent an hour or two trying to negotiate with them. One of
them,—a finely built, active, strong and intelligent fellow,—who
was a sort of king among them, acted as spokesman. He was called
Mannini.—or rather, out of compliment to his known importance and
influence, Mr. Mannini—and was known all over California. Through
him, the captain offered them fifteen dollars a month, and one
month’s pay in advance; but it was like throwing pearls before
swine, or rather, carrying coals to Newcastle. So long as they had
money, they would not work for fifty dollars a month, and when
their money was gone, they would work for ten.
“What do you do here, Mr. Mannini?”ep said
the captain.
“Oh, we play cards, get drunk, smoke—do anything
we’re a mind to.”
“Don’t you want to come aboard and work?”
“Aole! aole make make makou i ka
hana. Now, got plenty money; no good, work. Mamule, money
pau—all gone. Ah! very good, work!—maikai, hana hana
nui!”
“But you’ll spend all your money in this way,” said
the captain.
“Aye! me know that. By-’em-by money pau—a\\
gone; then Kanaka work plenty.”
This was a hopeless case, and the captain left
them, to wait patiently until their money was gone.
We discharged our hides and tallow, and in about a
week were ready to set sail again for the windward. We unmoored,
and got everything ready, when the captain made another attempt
upon the oven. This time he had more regard to the “mollia tempora
fandi,”eq and
succeeded very well. He got Mr. Mannini in his interest, and as the
shot was getting low in the locker, prevailed upon him and three
others to come on board with their chests and baggage, and sent a
hasty summons to me and the boy to come ashore with our things, and
join the gang at the hide-house. This was unexpected to me; but
anything in the way of variety I liked; so we got ready, and were
pulled ashore. I stood on the beach while the brig got under weigh,
and watched her until she rounded the point, and then went up to
the hide-house to take up my quarters for a few months.