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The Mission San Francisco de Assisi stood at the head of a great valleyabout a league from the Presidio and facing the eastern hills. Behindit, yet not too close, for the priests were ever on their guard againstIndians more lustful of loot than salvation, was a long irregular chainof hills, breaking into twin peaks on its highest ridge, with a lonemountain outstanding. It was an imposing but forbidding mass, as steepand bare as the walls of a fortress; but in the distance, north andsouth, as the range curved in a tapering arc that gave the valley theappearance of a colossal stadium, the outlines were soft in a haze ofpale color. The sheltered valley between the western heights and thesand hills far down the bay where it turned to the south, was greenwith wheat fields, and a small herd of cattle grazed on the lowerslopes. The beauty of this superbly proportioned valley was furtherenhanced by groves of oaks and bay trees, and by a lagoon,communicating with an arm of the bay, which the priests had named fortheir Lady of Sorrows--Nuestra Senora de los Dolores. The little sheetof water was almost round, very green and set in a thicket of willowsthat were green, too, in the springtime, and golden in summer. Nearits banks, or closer to the protecting Mission--on whose land grantthey were built--were the comfortable adobe homes of the few Spanishpioneers that preferred the bracing north to the monotonous warmth ofthe south. Some of these houses were long and rambling, others builtabout a court; all were surrounded by a high wall, enclosing a gardenwhere the Castilian roses grew even more luxuriantly than at thePresidio. The walls, like the houses, were white, and on those of DonJuan Moraga, a cousin of Dona Ignacia Arguello, the roses had beentrained to form a border along the top in a fashion that remindedRezanov of the pink edged walls of Fiesole.
The white red-tiled church and the long line of rooms adjoining werebuilt of adobe with no effort at grandeur, but with a certain noblesimplicity of outline that harmonized not only with the lofty reserveof the hills but with the innocent hope of creating a soul in thelowest of human bipeds. The Indians of San Francisco were asimmedicable as they were hideous; but the fathers belabored them withsticks and heaven with prayer, and had so far succeeded that if as yetthey had sown piety no higher than the knees, they had trained sometwelve hundred pairs of hands to useful service.
On the right was a graveyard, with little in it as yet but rose trees;behind the church and the many spacious rooms built for the consolationof virtue in the wilderness was a large building surrounding a court.Girls and young widows occupied the cells on the north side, and thework rooms on the east, while the youths, under the sharp eye of a laybrother, were opposite. All lived a life of unwilling industry:cleaning and combing wool, spinning, weaving, manufacturing chocolate,grinding corn between stones, making shoes, fashioning the simplegarments worn by priest and Indian. Between the main group ofbuildings and the natural rampart of the "San Bruno Mountains" was theRancheria, where the Indian families lived in eight long rows ofisolated huts.
In spite of vigilance an Indian escaped now and again to the mountains,where he could lie naked in the sun and curse the fetich ofcivilization. As the Russians approached, a friar, with deer-skinarmor over his cassock, was tugging at a recalcitrant mule, while abody-guard of four Indians stood ready to attend him down the coast insearch of an enviable brother. The mule, as if in sympathy with thefugitive, had planted his four feet in the earth and lifted his voicein derision, while the young friar, a recruit at the Mission, and farfrom enamored of his task, strained at the rope, and an Indian peltedthe hindquarters with stones. Suddenly, the mule flung out his heels,the enemy in the rear sprawled, the rope flew loose, the beast with aloud bray fled toward the willows of Dolores. But the young priest wasboth agile and angry. With a flying leap he reached the heaving back.The mule acknowledged himself conquered. The body-guard trotted ontheir own feet, and the party disappeared round a bend of the hills.
Rezanov laughed heartily and even the glum visage of Father Abellarelaxed.
"It is a common sight, Excellency," he said. "We are thankful to havea younger friar for such fatiguing work. Many a time have I belaboredstubborn mules and bestrode bucking mustangs while searching for one ofthese ungrateful but no doubt chosen creatures. It is the will of God,and we make no complaint; but we are very willing, Father Landaeta andI, that youth should cool its ardor in so certain a fashion while weattend to the more reasonable duties at home."
They were dismounted at the door of the church. The horses were led offby waiting Indians. The soldiers on guard saluted and stepped aside,and the party entered. Two priests in handsome vestments stood beforethe altar, but the long dim nave was empty. The Russians had been toldthat a mass would be said in their honor, and they marched down thechurch and bent their knees with as much ceremony as had they been ofthe faith of their hosts. When the short mass was over, Rezanovbethought himself of Concha's request, and whispering its purport toFather Abella was led to a double iron hoop stuck with tallow dips invarious stages of petition. Rezanov lit a candle and fastened it in anempty socket. Then with a whimsical twist of his mouth he lit andadjusted another.
"No doubt she has some fervent wish, like all children," he thoughtapologetically. "And whether this will help her to realize it or not,at least it will be interesting to watch her eyes--and mouth--when Itell her. Will she melt, or flash, or receive my offering at hershrine as a matter of course? I'll surprise her to-night in the middleof a dance."
He deposited a gold piece among the candles on the table and followedFather Abella through a side door. A corridor ran behind the long lineof rooms designed not only for priests but for travellers always sureof a welcome at these hospitable Missions. Father Abella shuffledahead, halted on the threshold of a large room, and ceremoniouslyinvited his guests to enter. Two other priests stood before a tableset with wine and delicate confections, their hands concealed in theirwide brown sleeves, but their unmatched physiognomies--the one lean andjovial, the other plump and resigned--alight with the same smile ofwelcome. Father Abella mentioned them as his coadjutor Father MartinLandaeta, and their guest Father Jose Uria of San Jose; and then thethree, with the scant rites of genuine hospitality, applied themselvesto the tickling of palates long unused to ambrosial living. Respondingingenuously to the glow of their home-made wines, they begged Rezanovto accept the Mission, burn it, plunder it, above all, to plan his ownday.
"I hope that I am to see every detail of your great work," replied thediplomatic guest of honor. "But at your own leisure. Meanwhile, I begthat you will order one of your Indians to bring in the little presentsI venture to offer as a token of my respect. You may have heard thatthe presents of his Imperial Majesty were refused by the Mikado ofJapan. I reserved many of them for possible use in our ownpossessions, particularly a piece of cloth of gold. This I hadintended for our church at New Archangel, but finding the priests theremore in need of punishment than reward, I concluded to bring it hereand offer it as a manifest of my admiration for what the greatFranciscan Order of the Most Holy Church of Rome has accomplished inthe Californias. Have I been too presumptuous?"
The priests all wore the eager expressions of children.
"Could we not see them first?" asked Father Landaeta of his superior;and Father Abella sent a servant with an order to unload the horse andbring in the presents.
Not a vestige of reserve lingered. Priests and guests sat about thetable eating and drinking and chatting as were they old friendsreunited, and Rezanov extracted much of the information he desired.The white population--"gente de razon"--of Alta California, thepeculiar province of the Franciscans--the Jesuits having been the firstto invade Baja California, and with little success--numbered about twothousand, the Christianized Indians about twenty thousand. There werenineteen Missions and four Presidial districts--San Diego, close to theborder of Baja California, Santa Barbara, Monterey, and San Francisco.Each Mission had an immense grant of land, or rancho--generally fifteenmiles square--for the raising of live stock, agricultural necessities,and the grape. At
the Presidio of San Francisco there were some seventymen, including invalids; and the number varied little at the othermilitary centres, Rezanov inferred, although there was a natural effortto impress the foreigner with the casual inferiority of the armed forcewithin his ken. Cattle and horses increased so rapidly that every fewyears there was a wholesale slaughter, although the agricultural yieldwas enormous. What the Missions were unable to manufacture was sentthem from Mexico, and disposed of the small salaries of the priests;the "Pious Fund of California" in the city of Mexico beingsystematically embezzled. The first Presidio and Mission were foundedat San Diego in July of 1769; the last at San Francisco in Septemberand October of 1776.
Rezanov's polite interest in the virgin country was cut short by theentrance of two Indians carrying heavy bundles, which they opened uponthe floor without further delay.
The cloth of gold was magnificent, and the padres handled it asrapturously as had their souls and fingers been of the sex symbolizedwhile exalted by the essence of maternity, in whose service it would beanointed. Rezanov looked on with an amused sigh, yet conscious ofbeing more comprehending and sympathetic than if he had journeyedstraight from Europe to California. It was not the first time he hadfelt a passing gratitude for his uncomfortable but illuminating sojournso close to the springs of nature.
The priests were as well pleased with the pieces of fine English cloth;and as their own homespun robes rasped like hair shirts, they silentlybut uniformly congratulated themselves that the color was brown.
Father Abella turned to Rezanov, his saturnine features relaxed.
"We are deeply grateful to your excellency, and our prayers shallfollow you always. Never have we received presents so timely and somagnificent. And be sure we shall not forget the brave officers thathave brought you safely to our distant shores, nor the distinguishedscholar who guards your excellency's health." He turned to Langsdorffand repeated himself in Latin. The naturalist, whose sharp nose wasalways lifted as if in protest against oversight and ready to pounceupon and penetrate the least of mysteries, bowed with his hand on hisheart, and translated for the benefit of the officers.
"Humph!" said Davidov in Russian. "Much the Chamberlain will care forthe prayers of the Catholic Church if he has to go home with his cargo.But he has a fine opportunity here for the display of his diplomatictalents. I fancy they will avail him more than they did atNagasaki--where I am told he swore more than once when he should havekowtowed and grinned."
"I shouldn't like to see him grin," replied Khostov, as they finallystarted for the outbuildings. "If he could go as far as that he wouldbe the most terrible man living. Were it not for the fire in him thatmelts the iron just so often he would be crafty and cruel instead ofsubtle and firm. He is a fortunate man! There were many fairies athis cradle! I have always envied him, and now he is going to win thatbeautiful Dona Concha. She will look at none of us."
"We will doubtless meet others as beautiful at the ball to-night," saidDavidov philosophically. "You are not in love with a girl who hasbarely spoken to you, I suppose."
"She had almost given me a rose this morning, when Rezanov, who wasflattering the good Dona Ignacia with a moment of his attention, turnedtoo soon. I might have been air. She looked straight through me.Such eyes! Such teeth! Such a form! She is the most enchanting girl Ihave ever seen. And he will monopolize her without troubling to noticewhether we even admire her or not. Pray heaven he does not break herheart."
"He is honorable. One must admit that, if he does fancy his own willwas a personal gift from the Almighty. Perhaps she will break his. Inever saw a more accomplished flirt."
"I know women," replied the shrewder Khostov. "When men like Rezanovmake an effort to please--" He shrugged his shoulders. "Some men arethe offspring of Mars and Venus and most of us are not. We can atleast be philosophers. Let us hope the dinner will be excellent."
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