The Little Lady of Lagunitas | Page 4

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 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 Micheltorrena. The people were divided into clericals and anti-clericals. A time of "storm and stress" hung over all.
Wise in victory was Captain Miguel Peralta. His 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. "Senor 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 Senorita 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, both Sutter's Fort and the Russians