On the 26th of July, 1847, the Columbus, seventy-four, bearing the pennant of Commodore Biddle, sailed from San Francisco for the United States, leaving the flag of the Commander-in-Chief, flying on board the razee Independence. By this time most of the ships composing the squadron had either rendezvouzed in Monterey or Yerbabuena. Central and Upper California had become perfectly tranquil, with the exception of some trifling difficulties which had arisen in San Diego, between the New York Volunteers and the natives. But these were speedily settled; and a sufficient force being now ready for service, the preparations, which had already been too long delayed, were actively begun for the purpose of attacking the Mexican coast. The crews of the different vessels were constantly exercised in companies and battalions for service on land: they were taught to march and counter-march, in line, platoons, and column; to throw themselves into squares; were thoroughly instructed in the manual drill; and although they occasionally knocked their broad-brimmed tarpaulins off at "Shoulder arms," yet upon the whole they did extremely well for sailors, and on the weekly field-days on shore, went through the evolutions in a very creditable manner. Early in September we returned to Monterey. The bright Monterey was rapidly increasing, and houses of a more substantial build than the paper-like structures of Yerbabuena, were rising in the streets. The fort on the hill was nearly completed, mounting a numerous battery of long twenty-fours; and in the rear were stone magazines, barracks, and quarters; so that the natives, if they entertained doubts before, were now convinced that their invaders had resolved to remain. A salutary system of police had also been established in the town—the Reverend Alcalde was a terror to evil doers. Woe betide the pockets of those who slaughtered cattle at their door-steps, or the rollicking gentry vaulting at full speed through the streets, or drunken Indians, or quiet persons in back rooms, amusing themselves at montÉ—for down came that ivory-headed cane—"Alcalde de Monterey"—like a talisman; and with a pleasant smile he would sweep the white and yellow dross into his capacious pockets. Others were mulcted in damages, or made to quarry stone for the school-house; but, whether native or foreigner, the rod fell impartially on their pockets, and all, more or less, contributed towards the new Californian college. These measures were not relished at first by the natives, but in the end they About this time a more serious event occurred. Two Indians were charged with the murder of a foreigner; a woman, who was their accomplice, betrayed them; they were tried by jury, selected equally from natives and strangers; the crime was clearly and indubitably proved—the offenders were condemned to be hung. The punishment was unknown in California, and a large concourse of persons assembled around the gallows, which was erected within sight of the town. Attended by two priests, the criminals, who seemed perfectly indifferent to their fate—in fact many thought rather pleased at being the observed of all observers—were placed beneath the beam, and the cords finally adjusted by the pious fathers. At the signal, down came the platform, and with it the murderers; but, by some unaccountable fatality, both knots slipped, and with the exception of being a little "choky" in the face, they sustained no injury. In a moment one of the priests mounted a horse, and galloped to the Governor's, urging a reprieve on the plea of a special dispensation of Providence—that the criminals had been hung once, and were consequently entitled to pardon. The philanthropic padre might better have saved his ride and breath, for Colonel Mason informed him, that in case these villains were not executed, Providence might interfere with the ropes for ever after, and moreover the sentence was to hang them until dead. Meanwhile the sheriff on the ground had replaced the halters with unslippable hitches, as he observed that they would receive "particular fits;" and soon after they were properly worked off, and swung, dangling, lifeless figures, within their timber frame. This event generated a feeling of bitter hostility on the part of the Catholic On Saturday evenings, crowds of these degraded Indians, of both sexes, after laboring during the week, and feeding on locusts or grasshoppers, were accustomed to congregate on the outskirts of the town, where, with gaming and arguadiente, they were enabled to remain torpid all the following day. Their favorite amusement was a game called escondido—hide and seek—played with little sticks; and their skill was exerted by trying to discover in whose hands they were: seating themselves on the ground, around a huge blazing fire, separate parties were ranged on opposite sides; then beginning a low, wild chaunt, moving their bodies to and fro, groping with their hands within the serapas before them, until the perspiration starts in streams down their naked sides, after a strange succession of deep, harsh, gutteral grunts and aspirations, they suddenly terminate their exertions by giving a sharp yell, and pointing to one of the opposite party, who, if rightly detected, pays forfeit. When one set of players becomes exhausted, others supply their places, and thus they keep it up the live-long night. Among the Californians an agreeable pastime, much in vogue, is the merendar—Angliee, pie-nie. They are usually given, on the patron saint's day of some favorite seÑora or seÑorita, by their admirers. A secluded, pleasant spot is selected a few miles away from the presidio, where provisions, wine and music are collected beforehand; then each cavalier, with arm thrown affectionately around his sweetheart, on the saddle before him, seeks the rendezvous. Guitars and choral accompaniments soon are heard, and the merenda begins, and is kept up with the greatest possible fun and spirit: dancing, frolicking, drinking and love-making. We were many weeks in Monterey, and I passed a large portion of leisure time either hunting with Juaquinito, or chatting and smoking during the afternoons with our excellent friends, the army men, at the Fort. But at last we began to tire of foggy mornings, damp nights, tough beef, lounging under the Consul's |