The little lady of Lagunitas : a Franco-Californian romance

Front matter

Cornell University Library PS 2779.S5L7

The little lady of Lagunltas :a Franco-C

3 1924 022 430 809

Introduction

Forty-two years have passed since California's golden star first glittered iu the flag of the United States of America.

Its chequered history virtually begins with the rush for gold in '48-49-

Acquired for the evident purpose of extending slave-holding territory, it was occupied for years by a multitude of cosmopolitan "free lances," who swept away the defenceless Indians, and brutally robbed the great native families, the old "Dons."

Society slowly made headway against these motley adventurers.

Mad riot, wildest excess, marked these earlier days. ,

High above the meaner knights of the "revolver and bowie knife," greater than card sharper, fugitive bcavo, or sly wanton, giant schemers appeared, who throw, yet, dark shadows over the records of this State.

These daring conspirators dominated legislature and forum, public office and society.

They spoiled the Mexican, robbed the Indian, and paved the way for# " Lone Star Republic," or the delivering of the-great treasure fields of the West to the leaders of Secession.

How their designs on this grand domain failed ; what might have been, had the South been more active in its hour of primary victory and seized the Golden West, these pages may show.

The golden days of the " stars and bars " were lost by the activity" of the Unionists and the mistaken policy at Richmond.

The utter demoralization of California by the " bonanza era " of silver discovery, the rise of an invincible plutocracy, and the second reign of loose luxury are herefn set fortrT.

Scenes never equalled in" shamelessness have disgraced the Halls of State, the Courts, and the mansions of the suddenly enriched.

The poor have been trampled by these tyrants for twenty „ years.

Characters unknown in the social history of any other land, have been evolved from this golden eddy of crime and adventure.

4 INTRODUCTION.

Not till all these men and women of incredibly romantic fortunes have passed away, will a firm social structure rise over their graves.

Throttled by usurers, torn by gigantic bank wars, its resources drained by colossal swindles, crouching yet under the iron rule of_ upstart land-barons, "dashing journalism," and stern railroad autocrats, the Californian community has gloomily struggled along.

Newer States have made a relative progress which shames California. Its future is yet uncertain.

The native sons and daughters' of the golden Wesf are the hope of the Pacific.

The homemakers may yet win the victory.

Some of the remarkable scenes of the past are herein portrayed by one who has seen this game of life played in earnest, the shadowed drama of California.

There is no attempt to refer to individuals, save as members of well-defined classes, in these pages. This book has absolutely no political bias.

The Author.

New York City, ]gay 15, 1892.

Book I. The Last Of The Dons By The Blue Pacific

PAGE

Chapter I. — Under the Mexican Eagle. — Exit

the Foreigner. — Monterey, 1840, 7

" II. — At the Presidio of San Francisco.

Wedding Chimes from the Mission Dolores. — Lagunitas Rancho, ' - . - 28

" III. — A Missing Sentinel. — Fremont's

Camp, - 44

" IV.— Held by the Enemy.— The Bear

Book II. Gold For All. — A New Star In The Flag

Chapter V. — The Golden Magnet.— Free or Slave ? 80 " VI. — Lighting Freedom's Western Lamp, 98 " VII.— The Queen of the El Dorado.—

Guilty Bonds, - „ - 118

" VIII. — Joaquin the Mountain Robber. —

The Don's Peril, - - ' - 143

" IX. — The Stranger's Foot at Lagunitas.

Valois' Spanish Bride, - - 172

Book III. Going Home To Dixie. —stars And Stripes, Or Stars And Bars?

Chapter X. — A Little Dinner at Judge Hardin's.

The Knighteof the Golden Circle, 197

CONTENTS.

Chapter XL — " I'se gwine back to Dixie." — The

Fortunes of War. — Val Verde, 224 " XII.— Hood's Day.— Peachtree Creek. Valois' Last Trust.— DeGress' Battery. — Dead on the Field of Honor, .---"- 247

Book IV. A Lost Heiress. — Millions At Stake

Chapter XIII. — Mount Davidson's Magic Millions. A 'California Plutocracy. — The Price of a Crime, - 277

" XIV. — A Mariposa Bonanz.a. — Natalie de

Santos born in Paris. — The Queen

of the' El Dorado joins the Gallic

" Four Hundred," - - - 312

XV. — An Old Priest and a Young Artist.

The Changelings, • - - 332

" XVI.— Nearing Each Other.— The Valois

" XVII. — Weaving Spiders. — A Coward Blow.

— Marie Berard's Doom, - 382

Book V. Reaping The Whirlwind

Chapter XVIII. — Joe Woods Surprises a Lady.

Love's Golden Nets, - 406

" XIX. — Lovers Once, Strangers Now.

Face to Face, - - 435

" XX. — Judge Hardin Meets his Match.

A Senatorial Election. — In a Mariposa Court Room. — The Trust fulfilled at Lagunites, - - - 456

LAGUNITAS.

Book I

The Last of the Dons by the Blue Pacific.

chapter I.

, UNDER THE MEXICAN EAGLE. — EXIT THE FOR- EIGNER.— MONTEREY, 1840.

" Caramba ! Adios, Seflores ! " cried Captain Miguel Peralta, sitting on his roan charger on the Monterey bluffs. A white-sailed bark is heading southward for Acapulco. His vaqueros tossed up their sombreros, shouting, " Vive Alvaradp ! Muerte los estrangdros ! "

The Pacific binds the hills of California in a sapphire zone, unflecked by a single sail in sight, save the retreating trader, which is flitting around " Punta de los Pinos."

It is July, 1840, The Mexican ensign flutters in the plaza of Monterey, tlie capital of Alta California.

Miguel Peralta dismounts and crosses himself, murmuring, " Sea por Dios y la Santissima Virgen."

His duty is done. He has verified the departure of the Yankee ship. It is crowded with a hundred aliens. They are now exiles.

Gathered in by General Vallejo, the " pernicious foreigners " have been held at Monterey, until a " hide drogher " comes into the port. Alvarado permits her to anchor under the guns of the hill battery. He then seizes the ship for his use.

Captain Pejralta is given the honor of casting out these Ishmaels of fortune. He views calmly their exit. It^is a land which welcomes not the " Gringo." The ship-master receives a draft on Acapulco for his impressed service. These pioneer argonauts are warned (on pain of death) not to return. It is a day of "fiesta" in Monterey. " Vive Alvarado ! " is the toast.

Soj.when Captain Miguel dashes into the Plaza, surrounded with his dare-deyil retainers, reporting that the vessel is off shore, the rejoicing is unbounded.

Cannons roar: the yells of the green jacket and yellow scrape brigade rise on the silent reaches of the Punta de los Pinos. A procession winds up to the Carmel Mission. Governor Alvarado, his staff, the leading citizens, the highest families, and the sefloritas attend a mass of thanksgiving. Attired in light muslins, with here and there a bright-colored shawl giving a fleck of. color, and silk kerchiefs — fleecy — the ladies' only other ornaments are the native flowers which glitter on the slopes of Monterey Bay. Bevies of dark-eyed girls steal glances at Andres, Ramon, or Jose, while music lends a hallowing charm to the holy father's voice as he bends before the decorated altar. Crowds of mission Indians fill the picturesque church. Every heart is, proud. Below their feet sleeps serenely good Fray " Junipero Serra." He blessed this spot in 1770; — a man of peace, he hung the bells on the green oaks in a peaceful wilderness. High in air, to-day they joyously peal out a " Laus Deo." When the mystery of the mass rehearses the awful sacrifice of Him who died 'for us all, a silence broods over the worshippers. The notes of the choristers' voices slowly die away. The population leaves the church in gay disorder.

The*Bells of the Past throw their spells over the mossy church — at once triumph, tomb, and monument of Padre Junipero. Scattered over the coast of California, the padres now sleep in the Lethe of death. Fathers Kino, Salvatierra, Ugarte, and sainted Serra left their beautiful works of mercy from San Diego to Sonoma. With their companions, neither unknown tribes, lonely coasts, dangers by land and sea, the burning deserts 0/ the Colorado, nor Indian menaces, prevented the linking together of these outposts of peaceful Christianity. The chain of missions across New Mexico and Texas and the Mexican religious houses stretches through bloody Arizona. A golden circlet ! '

Happy California ! The cross here preceded the sword. No blood stains the Easter lilies of the sacrifice. The Dons and Donnas greet each other in

IO LAGUNITAS.

stately fashion, as the gathering disperses. Governor Alvarado gives a feast to the notables. The old families are all represented at the board. Picos, Peraltas, Sanchez, Pachecos, Guerreros, Estudillos, Vallejos, Alvarados, De la Guerras, Castros, Micheltorrenas, the descendants of " Conquistadores," drinkto Mexico. High rises the jovial chatter. Good aguadiente and mission wine warm the hearts of the fiery Californian orators. A proud day for Monterey, the capital of a future Empire of Gold. The stranger is cast out. Gay caballeros" are wending to the bear-baiting, the bull-fights, the " baile," and the rural feasts. Splendid riders prance along, artfully forcing their wild steeds into bounds and curvets with the rowels of their huge silver-mounted spurs.

Dark lissome girls raise their velvety eyes afid applaud this daring horsemanship. Sefloritas Luisa, Isabel, and Panchita lose no point of the display. In a land without carriages or roads, the appearance of the cavalier, his mount, his trappings, most do make the man shine before these '-fair slips of Mexican blue blood.

Down on the beach, the boys race- their halfbroken broncos. These lads are as lithe and lean as the ponies they bestride. Across the bay, the Sierras of Santa Cruz lift their virgin crests (plumed with giant redwoods) to the brightest skies on earth. Flashing brooks wander to the sea unvexed by mill, unbridged in Nature's unviolated freedom. Far to north arid south the foot-hills stand shining wit'h their golden coats of wild oats, a memorial of the seeds cast over these fruitful mesas by Governor

Gaspar de Portala. He left San Diego Mission in July, 1769, with sixty-five retainers, and first reached the Golden Gate.

Beyond the Coast Range lies a "terra incognita." A few soldiers only have traversed the Sacramento and San Joaquin. They wandered into the vales of Napa and Sonoma, fancying them a fairyland.

The sparkling waters of the American, the Sacramento, the Yuba, Feather, and Bear rivers are dancing silently over rift and ripple. There precious nuggets await the frenzied seekers for wealth. There are no gold-hunters yet in the gorges of these crystal streams. Down in Nature's laborar tory, radiated golden veins creep along between feathery rifts of virgin quartz. They are the treasures of the careless gnomes.

Not till years later will Marshall pick up the first nugget of gleaming gold in Sutter's mill-race at Coloma. The "auri sacra fames "will bring thousands from the four quarters of the earth to sweep away "the last of the Dons."

A lovely land to-day. No axe rings in its forests. No steamboat threads the rivers. Not an engine is harnessed to man's use in this silent, lazy realm. The heart of the Sierras is inviolate. The word " Gold " must be whispered to break the charm.

> The sun climbs to noon, then slowly sinks to the west. It dips into the silent sea, mirroring sparkling evening stars.

Stretching to Japan, the Pacific is the mysterious World's End.

Along the brown coast, the sea otter, clad in kingly robes, sports shyly in the kelp fields. The , fur seals stream by unchased to their misty home in the Pribyloffs. Barking sea-lions clamber around the jutting rocks. Lazy whales roll on the quiet waters of the bay, their track an oily wake.

It is the land of siesta, of undreamed dreams, of brooding slumber.

The barbaric diversions of the day are done. The firing squad leave the guns. The twang of guitar and screech of violin open the fandango.

The young cavaliers desert the streets. Bibulous dignitaries sit in council around Governor Alvarado's table. Mexican cigars, wine in old silver flagons (fashioned by the deft workers of Chihuahua and Durango), and carafes of aguadiente, garnish the board.

The mahogany table (a mark of official grandeur), transported from Acapulto, is occupied (below the salt) by the young officers. Horse-racing, cockfighting, and gambling on the combat of bear and bull, have not exhausted their passions. Public monte and faro leave them a few " doubloons " yet. Seated with piles of Mexican dollars before them, the young heroes enjoy a " lay-out." All their coin comes from Mexico. Hundreds of millions, in unminted gold and silver, lie under their careless feet,- yet their '* pieces of eight " date back to Robinson Crusoe ! This is the land of " manafla ! " Had Hernando Cortez not found the treasures of Mexico, he might have fought his way north, over the Gila Desert, to the golden hoards of the sprites of the Sierras.

At the banquet fiery Alvarado counselled with

General Vallejo. Flushed with victory, Captain Miguel -was the lion of this feast. He chatted with his compadres.

The seniors talked over the expulsion of the strangers.

Cool advisers feared trouble from France, England, or the United States. Alvarado's instinct told him that foreigners would gain a masteryover the "Dons, if permitted to enter in numbers. Texas was an irresistible warning. " Seflores," said Alvarado, "the Russians came in 1812. Only a few, with their Kodiak Indians, settled at Bpdega. X,ook at them now ! They control beautiful Bodega ! They are 800 souls ! True, they say they are going, but only our posts at San Rafael and Sonoma checked them. \ A fear of your sword, General ! " Alvarado drank to Vallejo.

Vallejo bowed to his Governor. " Seftor," said he, " you are right. I have seen Mexico. I have been a scholar, as well as a soldier. I knew Von Resanoff's Russian slyness. My father was at the Presidio in 1807, when he obtained rights for a few fur hunters. Poor fellow ! he never lived to claim his bride, but he was a diplomat."

" Foreigners will finally outroot us. Here is Sutter, building his fort on the Sacramento ! He's a good fellow, yet I'll have to burn New Helvetia about his ears some day. Russian or Swiss, French or Yankee, it's all the same. The ' Gringo ' is the worst of all. Poor Conception de Arguello. She waited long for her dead Russian lover."

" General, do you think the Yankees can ever attack us by land?" said Alvarado.

" Madre de Dios ! No ! " cried Vallejo, " we will drag them at our horses' tails!"

"Then, I have no fear of them," said Alvarado. " We occupy San Diego, Santa Barbara, Monterey, and San Francisco, the missions of San Juan Capistrano, Los Angeles, San Luis Obispo and Santa Clara, and help to control the Indians, but these home troubles have stopped their useful .growth."

Governor Alvarado sighed. Governor Hijar in 1834 had desecularized the Catholic missions. Their cattle were stolen, their harvests and vineyards destroyed. The converts were driven off to seek new homes among the Utes, Yubas, Feather River, Napa, and Mohave tribes.

Pious Alvarado crossed himself. He glanced uneasily at Padre Castillo, — at the board. Only one or two priests were left at the beautiful settlements clustering around the old mission churches. To-day these are the only, architectural ornaments of Alta California.

"I doubt the wisdom of breaking up the missions," said Alvarado, with gloomy brow. A skeleton was at this feast. The troubled Governor could not see the handwriting on the wall. He felt California was a priceless jewel to Mexico. He feared imprudent measures. Lying dormant, California slept since Cabrillo saw Cape Mendocino in 1542. After he turned his shattered prows back to Acapulco on June 27, 1543, it was only on November 10, 1602, that ambitious Viscaino raised the Spanish ensign at San Diego. He boldly claimed this golden land for Spain. Since that furtive visit, the lonely coast lay unsettled. It was only used

LAGUNTTAS. 1 5

as a haunt by wild pirates, lurking to attack the precious Philippine galleons sailing to Acapulco. For one hundred and sixty-eight years the land was unvisited. Spanish greed and iron rule satisfied itself with grinding the Mexicans and turning southward in the steps of Balboa and Pizarro.

Viscaino's neglected maps rotted in Madrid for two centuries. Fifty-five years of Spanish rule left California undeveloped, save by the gentle padres who, aided by their escort, brought in the domestic animals. They planted fruit-trees, grains, and the grape. They taught the peaceful Indians agriculture. Flax, hemp, and cotton supplanted the skins of animals.

Alvarado and Vallejo remembered the Spanish war in 1822. At this banquet of victory, neither thought that, a few years later, the rule of the Dons would be over ; that their familiar places would know them no more. Just retribution of fate ! The Dons drove out the friars, and recked not their own day was close at hand.

As the exultant victors stood drinking the toast of the day, " Muerte los estrangeros," neither crafty statesman, sly priest, fiery general, wise old Don, nor reckless caballero, could predict that the foreigners would return in two years. That they would come under protection .of the conquering British flag.

Alvarado was excited by his feuds with Micheltorreria. The people were divided i/ito clericals and anti-clericals. A time of " storm and stress " hung over all.

Wise in victory was Captain Miguel Peralta. His l6 LAGUNITAS.

campaign against the foreigners marked the close of his service. Born in 1798, his family were lords of broad lands on the Alamedas of San Francisco Bay. He was sent to the city of Mexico and educated, serving in the army of the young republic. Returning to Alta California, he became a soldier.

Often had he sallied out to drive the warlike Indian toward the Sacramento. In watching his mustangs and cattle, he rode far to the slopes of the Sierra Nevadas. Their summits glittered under the blue skies, crowned with silvery snows, unprofaned by the foot of man.

A sturdy caballero, courtly and sagacious. His forty-two years admonished him now to settle in life. When Alvarado was in cheeriest mood, at the feast, the Captain reminded him of his promise to release him. This would allow Peralta to locate a new. ten-league-square grant of lands, given him for past services to the State.

Graciously the Governor accorded the request. Noblesse oblige ! " Don Miguel, is there any reason for leaving us besides your new rancho ? " said Alvarado. The Captain's cheek reddened a little. " Sefior Gobernador, I have served the State long," said he. " Juanita Castro waits for me at San Francisco. I will lay off my rancho on the San Joaquin. I move there in the spring."

Alvarado was delighted. The health of Sefiorita Juanita Castro was honored by the whole table. They drank an extra bumper for gallant Don Miguel, the bridegroom.

The Governor was pleased. Powerful Castros and Peraltas stretched from the Salinas, by San Jose and Santa Clara, to Martinez ; and San Rafael as well as Sonoma. By this clan, hoth Sutter's Fort and the Russians could be watched.

This suitable marriage would bring a thousand daring horsemen to serve under the cool leadership of Don Miguel in case of war.

Peralta told the Governor he. would explore the San Joaquin. He wished to locate his ranch where he could have timber, wood, water, game, and mountain air.

Don Miguel did not inform the chief of the state that in riding from San Diego to Cape Mendocino he had found one particular garden of Paradise. He had marked this for his home when his sword would be sheathed "in honor.

"I will say, your Excellency," said the Captain, " I fear for the future. The Yankees are growing in power and are grasping. They have robbed us of lovely Texas. Now, it is still a long way for their ships to come around dreary Cape Horn. We had till late years only two vessels from Boston ; I saw their • sails shining in the bay of San Francisco when I was five years old. I have looked in the Presidio records for the names. The Alexander and the Aser, August 1st, 1803. Then, they begged only for wood and water and a little provision. Now, their hide-traders swarm along our coast. They will by and by come with their huge war-ships. These trading-boats have no cannon, but they are full of bad rum. Our coast people will be cleared out. Why, Catalina Islands," continued the Captain, " were peopled once densely. There are yet old native temples there. All these coast tribes have perished. It is even worse since 'the holy fathers were robbed of their possessions."

The good soldier crossed himself in memory ot the wise padres. They owned the thousands of cattle, sheep, and horses once thronging the oatcovered hills. Theirs were the fruits, grains, and comforts of these smiling valleys, untrodden yet by a foreign foe.

" Your Excellency, when the Yankee war-ships have come, we cannot resist them. Our batteries are old and poor, we have little ammunition. Our arms are out. of repair. The machete and lasso are no match for their well-supplied men-of-war. I shall locate myself so far in the interior that the accursed Gringos cannot reach me with their ships or their boats. The trappers who straggle over the deserts from Texas our horsemen will lasso. They will bring them in bound as prisoners."

" Miguel, mi compadre," said the Governor, " do you think they can cross the deserts ? " He was startled by Peralta's views of the future.

" Sefior," said the Captain, " I saw the first American who came overland. The wanderer appeared in 1826. It was the 20th of December. He was found half starved by our vaqueros. I have his name here on a-piece of paper. I have long carried it, for I was a guard over him."

Miguel slowly spelled off the detested Yankee name, Jedediah S. Smith, from a slip of cartridge paper in his bolsa. Glory be to the name of Smith!

"Where that one Yankee found a way, mote will come, but we will meet and fight them. This is our own land. by the right of discovery. The good King Philip II. of Spain rightfully claimed this (from his orders to Viceroy Monterey in 1596). We get our town name here in his honor. We will fight' the English, and these accursed Yankees. They have no right to be here. This is our home," cried fiery Miguel, as he pledged the hospitable Governor. He passed out into the dreaming, starry night. As he listened to the waves softly breaking on the sandy beach, he thought fondly of Juanita Castro. He fumbled over the countersign as the . sentinel presented his old flint-lock musket.

Both Governor and Captain sought the repose of their Spartan pillows. The Captain forgot, in his zeal for Spanish dominion, that daring Sir Francis Drake, in days even then out of the memory of man, piloted the " Golden Hind " into Drake's Bay. He landed near San Francisco in 1578, and remained till the early months of 1579. Under the warrant of "good Queen Bess" he landed, and set up a pillar bearing a " fair metal plate " with a. picture of that antiquated but regal coquette. He nailed on the pillar a " fair struck silver five-pence," saluting the same with discharge of culverins, much hearty English cheer and nautical jollity. The land was English — by proscription.

Sir Francis, gallant and courtly, was, like many travellers, as skilful at drawing the long bow as in wielding the rapier. He was not believed at home.

Notwithstanding, he tarried months and visited the inland Indians, bringing home many objects of interest, announcing " much gold and silver," his voyage was vain. His real discovery was deemed of no practical value. The robust Indians swarmed in thousands, living by the watersides in huts, wearing deerskin cloaks and garments of rushes. Hunters and fishers were they. They entertained the freebooter, and like him have long since mouldered to ashes. Along the Pacific Coast great mounds of shells, marking their tribal seaside feasts, are now frequently unearthed. Their "humble history is shadowed by the passing centuries. They are only a memory, a shadow on Time's stream. Good Queen Bess sleeps in the stately fane of Westminster. Sir Francis's sword is rusted. The " brazen plate " recording that date and year is of a legendary existence only. * " Drake's Bay " alone keeps green the memory of the daring cruiser. Even in one century the Spanish, Russian, Mexican, and American flags successively floated over the unfrequented cliffs of California. Two hundred years before, the English ensign kissed the air in pride, unchallenged by the haughty Spaniard.

Miguel Peralta was happy. He had invited all the officials to attend the nuptials by the Golden Gate. Venus was in the ascendant. The red planet of Mars had set, he hoped, forever. The officers and gentry contemplated a frolicsome ride >around the Salinas bend, over the beautiful passes to Santa Clara valley and the town of Yerba Buena.

Peralta's marriage was an excuse for general love making. A display of all the bravery of attire and personal graces of man and maid was in order.

The soldier drifted into the land of dreams haunted by Juanita Castro's love-lit eyes and rare, shy smile. No vision disturbed hirri of the foothold gained in Oregon by the Yankees. They sailed past the entrance of San Francisco Bay, on the Columbia, in 1797, but they found the great river of the northwest. They named it after their gallant bark, said to be the legal property of one General Washington of America.

The echoes of Revolutionary cannon hardly died away before the eagle-guided Republic began to follow the star of empire to the Occident.

Had the listless mariners seen that obscured inlet of the Golden Gate, they had never braved the icy gales of the Oregon coast. Miguel Peralta's broad acres might have had another lord. Bishop Berkeley's prophecy was infallible. A fatal remissness seemed to characterize all early foreign adventure on Californian coasts.

Admiral Vancouver in 1793 visited Monterey harbor, and failed to raise the Union Jack, as supinely as the later British commanders in 1846. French commanders, technically. skilful and energetic, also igrfbred the value of the western coast. As a result of occasional maritime visits, the slender knowledge gained by these great navigators appears a remarkable omission.

The night passed on. Breezes sweeping through the pines of Monterey brought no murmur from the south and east of the thunder crash of cannon on the unfought fields of Mexico.

No drowsy vaquero sentinel, watching the outposts of Monterey, could catch a sound of the rumbling wheels and tramping feet of that vast western immigration soon to tread wearily the old overland and the great southern route.

The soldier, nodding over his flint-lock as the white stars dropped into the western blue, saw no glitter of the sails of hostile. Yankee frigates. Soon they would toss in pride at anchor her,e, and salute the starry flag of a new" sovereignty. The little twinkling star to be added for California was yet veiled behind ti.e blue field of our country's banner.

Bright sun flashes dancing over the hills awoke the drowsy sacristan. The hallowed " Bells of Carmel " called the faithful to mass.

Monterey, in reverse order of its social grades, rose yawning from the feast. Fandangos and bailes of the day of victory tired all. Lazy " mozos " lolled about the streets. A few revellers idly- compared notes of the day's doings.

In front of the government offices, squads of agile horses awaited haughty riders. A merry cavalcade watched for Captain Miguel Peralta. He was ,to be escorted out of the Pueblo by the " jeunesse dor£e " of Alta California.

Clad in green jackets buttoned with M.exiaan dollars, riding leggings of tiger-cat skin seamed with bullion and fringed with dollars, their brown faces were surmounted by rich sombreros, huge of rim. ,They were decorated in knightly fashion with silver lace. The young caballeros awaited their preux chevalier. Saddle and bridle shone with heavy silver mountings. Embossed housings and "tapadero," hid the symmetry of their deer- -like coursers.

Pliant rawhide lassos coiled on saddle horns, gay serapes tied behind each rider, and vicious machetes girded on thigh, these sons of the West were the pride of the Pacific.

Not one of them would be dismayed at a seven days' ride to Los Angeles. A day's jaunt to a fandango, 'a night spent in dancing, a gallop home on the morrow, was child's play to these young Scythians.

Pleasure-loving, brave, and courteous ; hospitable, and fond of their lovely land — they bore all fatigue in 'the saddle, yet despised any manual exertion ; patrician's all, in blood.

So it has been since man conquered the noblest inferior animal. The man on the horse always rides down and tramples his brother on foot. Life is simply a struggle for the saddle, and a choice of the rarest mount in the race. To-day these gay riders are shadows of a forgotten past.

Before noon Captain Peralta receives the order of the Governor. It authorizes him to locate his military grant. General Vallejo, with regret, hands Miguel an order relieving him from duty. He is named Commandante of the San Joaquin valley, under the slopes of the undefiled Sierras.