Chimes of Mission Bells | Page 9

there in 1836 "in the odor of sanctity." Mission Santa Clara was founded by Father Tomas de la Pe?a y Saradia; and its history is fascinating and romantic. The Mission Cross which Father de la Pe?a y Saradia planted here, is still standing.
The ninth Mission was San Buenaventura, founded also by Junipero Serra in person, in company with Governor Felipe de Neve, on Easter Sunday of March 31, 1783.
From San Buenaventura, Junipero Serra and Governor de Neve marched to what is now Santa Barbara. Here the Indians were numerous and more intelligent than any in California, where the Indians were far denser than either the Incas of South America or the Aztecs of Mexico. Delays, caused by military differences, retarded the foundation of Santa Barbara Mission, which would have been the tenth, but Junipero Serra planted a Mission Cross and selected the site on which it was destined to be founded four years after his death. From here Serra returned to Carmelo; his journeys from one Mission to another being always on foot.
And here we must pause: We have come in our narrative to that momentous year in the history, not only of the missions, but of California. The year when. Junipero Serra, true priest of God, christianizer, civilizer, wonderful among wonderful pioneers, or as Governor Gaspar de Portolá had spoken of him years before, "the humblest, bravest man of God I ever knew," had done his work! Junipero Serra was ready for his throne in Heaven, his crown awaited him, his rough Franciscan habit was to be glorified. We have briefly glanced at his chief characteristics from his boyhood in historic Spain, and must have gauged the measure of his untiring and tried virtue from the time he landed in Mexico and San Diego, on through the years he labored as the Apostle of California; to these let us add just a few of the private practices of mortification which he imposed on his innocent flesh, notwithstanding his age, his physical infirmities, extraordinary labors and hardships in a new, half explored country. Virtually they sound like a passage from the lives of the Saints. His journeys were always on foot, although the old sore on his leg remained like an instrument of torture throughout his life, nothing being able to help him. El Camino Real, from San Francisco to Monterey and from Monterey to San Diego, with its rough roads, was as familiar to him who walked it with so much difficulty as it is to us who enjoy it by comfortable travel on the railroad or pleasurable motor trips; his fasts were austere and frequent, wine he never used, the discipline was no stranger to him, a bed was not among his possessions, on the bare floor or bench at most he would rest his sore missionary body; yet he never imposed unnecessary penance on anyone, he was hard only on himself, he was gentle and affectionate to a marked degree, his faith, trust in Providence, humility and charity, were heroic. Of his seventy-four years of life, fifty-four he had been a Franciscan Priest and thirty-five he had devoted to missionary work, of which nine were spent in Mexico and fourteen in California. His wonderful eloquence and magnetic power for preaching which had won him honors in the Old World even as a newly ordained priest, he had used and adapted for the instruction of thousands of heathens of the New World; and now that christianity and civilization were beginning to bud with springtime loveliness like the Castilian roses he had planted in some of the mission gardens, while the sun of Spanish glory was still in the ascendency and no threatening omens of the fall of Spanish or Franciscan power, or nightmares of the Acts of Secularization disturbed the cloudless skies, while the Presidio Real of Monterey bore the arms of the Spanish King and the Capilla Real do San Carlos was thronged with gallant officers and brave men of the Royal Army and Navy of Castile and Leon, and Our Lady seemed to smile blessings on her Valley of Carmelo, before the beauteous dream, nay, realization of noble ambitions, had vanished like a fair sun, God called His faithful Servant unto Himself, in his cell at his beloved San Carlos Mission about 2:30 P. M. on August 28, 1784, according to the entry of Father Francisco Paloú, in the archives of San Carlos Mission, preserved in San Carlos Church of Monterey. And what a day this was! The archives here are full of touching detail. Solemn salutes were fired from the ships stationed in the Harbor of Monterey, and the grief of the people was inexpressible. The Indians were inconsolable. The officers of the Royal Navy claimed his sandals as a precious keepsake, and the Fathers