I
As the little ship that had three times raced with death sailed pastthe gray headlands and into the straits of San Francisco on thatbrilliant April morning of 1806, Rezanov forgot the bitterhumiliations, the mental and physical torments, the deprivations anddangers of the past three years; forgot those harrowing months in theharbor of Nagasaki when the Russian bear had caged his tail in thepresence of eyes aslant; his dismay at Kamchatka when he had beenforced to send home another to vindicate his failure, and to remain inthe Tsar's incontiguous and barbarous northeastern possessions asrepresentative of his Imperial Majesty, and plenipotentiary of theCompany his own genius had created; forgot the year of loneliness andhardship and peril in whose jaws the bravest was impotent; forgot evenhis pitiable crew, diseased when he left Sitka, that had filled theJuno with their groans and laments; and the bells of youth, long still,rang in his soul once more.
"It is the spring in California," he thought, with a sigh that curledat the edge. "However," life had made him philosophical; "the momentsof unreasonable happiness are the most enviable no doubt, for there isneither gall nor satiety in the reaction. All this is as enchantingas--well, as a woman's promise. What lies beyond? Illiterate andmercenary Spaniards, vicious natives, and boundless ennui, one maysafely wager. But if all California is as beautiful as this, no manthat has spent a winter in Sitka should ask for more."
In the extent and variety of his travels Rezanov had seen Nature moreawesome of feature but never more fair. On his immediate right as hesailed down the straits toward the narrow entrance to be known as theGolden Gate, there was little to interest save the surf and the massesof outlying rocks where the seals leapt and barked; the shore beyondwas sandy and low. But on his left the last of the northern mountainsrose straight from the water, the warm red of its deeply indentedcliffs rich in harmony with the green of slope and height. There wasnot a tree; the mountains, the promontories, the hills far down on theright beyond the sand dunes, looked like stupendous waves of lava thathad cooled into every gracious line and fold within the art ofrelenting Nature; granted ages after, a light coat of verdure to clothethe terrible mystery of birth. The great bay, as blue and tranquil asa high mountain lake, as silent as if the planet still slept after theagonies of labor, looked to be broken by a number of promontories,rising from their points far out in the water to the high back of theland; but as the Juno pursued her slanting way down the channel Rezanovsaw that the most imposing of these was but the end of a large island,and that scattered near were other islands, masses of rock like thecastellated heights that rise abruptly from the plains of Italy andSpain; far away, narrow straits, with a glittering expanse beyond;while bounding the whole eastern rim of this splendid sheet of waterwas a chain of violet hills, with the pale green mist of new grass hereand there, and purple hollows that might mean groves of trees crouchinglow against the cold winds of summer; in the soft pale blue haze aboveand beyond, the lofty volcanic peak of a mountain range. Not a humanbeing, not a boat, not even a herd of cattle was to be seen, andRezanov, for a moment forgetting to exult in the length of Russia'sarm, yielded himself to the subtle influence abroad in the air, andfelt that he could dream as he had dreamed in a youth when the courtsof Europe to the boy were as fabulous as El Dorado in the immensity ofancestral seclusions.
"It is like the approach to paradise, is it not, Excellency?" adeferential voice murmured at his elbow.
The plenipotentiary frowned without turning his head. Dr. Langsdorff,surgeon and naturalist, had accompanied the Embassy to Japan, andalthough Rezanov had never found any man more of a bore and wouldwillingly have seen the last of him at Kamchatka, a skilful dispenserof drugs and mender of bones was necessary in his hazardous voyages,and he retained him in his suite. Langsdorff returned his politetolerance with all the hidden resources of his spleen; but hiscuriosity and scientific enthusiasm would have sustained him throughgreater trials than the exactions of an autocrat, whom at least he hadnever ceased to respect in the most trying moments at Nagasaki.
"Yes," said Rezanov. "But I wonder you find anything to admire in suchunportable objects as mountains and water. I have not seen a livingthing but gulls and seal, and God knows we had enough of both at Sitka."
"Ah, your excellency, in a land as fertile as this, and caressed by aclimate that would coax life from a stone, there must be an infinitenumber of aquatic and aerial treasures that will add materially to thescientific lore of Europe."
"Humph!" said Rezanov, and moved his shoulder in an uncontrollablegesture of dismissal. But the spell of the April morning was broken,although the learned doctor was not to be the only offender.
The Golden Gate is but a mile in width and the swift current carriedthe Juno toward a low promontory from the base of which a shrill crysuddenly ascended. Rezanov, raising his glass, saw that what he hadtaken to be a pile of fallen rocks was a fort, and that a group ofexcited men stood at its gates. Once more the plenipotentiary on adelicate mission, he ordered the two naval officers sailing the ship tocome forward, and retired to the dignified isolation of the cabin.
The high-spirited young officers, who would have raised a gay hurrah atthe sight of civilized man had it not been for the awe in which theyheld their chief, saluted the Spaniards formally, then stood in anattitude of extreme respect; the Juno was directly under the guns ofthe fort.
One of the Spaniards raised a speaking trumpet and shouted:
"Who are you?"
No one on the Juno, save Rezanov, could speak a word of Spanish, butthe tone of the query was its own interpreter. The oldest of thelieutenants, through the ship's trumpet, shouted back:
"The Juno--Sitka--Russian."
The Spanish officer made a peremptory gesture that the ship come toanchor in the shelter given by an immense angle of the mainland, ofwhich the fort's point was the western extreme. The Russians, asbefitted the peaceful nature of their mission, obeyed without delay.Before their resting place, and among the sand hills a mile from thebeach, was a quadrangle of buildings some two hundred feet square andsurrounded by a wall about fourteen feet high and seven feet thick.This they knew to be the Presidio. They saw the officers that hadhailed them gallop over the hill behind the fort to the more ambitiousenclosure, and, in the square, confer with another group that seemed tobe in a corresponding state of excitement. A few moments later adeputation of officers, accompanied by a priest in the brown habit ofthe Franciscan order, started on horseback for the beach. Rezanovordered Lieutenant Davidov and Dr. Langsdorff to the shore as hisrepresentatives.
The Spaniards wore the undress uniform of black and scarlet in whichthey had been surprised, but their peaked straw hats were decoratedwith cords of gold or silver, the tassels hanging low on the broadbrim; their high deer-skin boots were gaily embroidered, and bristledwith immense silver spurs. The commanding officer alone had investedhimself with a gala serape, a square of red cloth with a bound andembroidered slit for the head. Leading the rapid procession, his lefthand resting significantly on his sword, he was a fine specimen of theyoung California grandee, dark and dashing and reckless, lithe offigure, thoroughbred, ardent. His eyes were sparkling at the prospectof excitement; not only had the Russians, by their nefariousappropriation of the northwestern corner of the continent and a recentpiratical excursion in pursuit of otter, inspired the SpanishGovernment with a profound disapproval and mistrust, but a rumor hadrun up the coast that made every sea-gull look like the herald of ahostile fleet. This was young Arguello's first taste of command, andlife was dull on the northern peninsula; he would have welcomed adeclaration of war.
Davidov and Langsdorff had come to shore in one of the JUNO'S canoes.The conversation was held in Latin between the two men of learning.
"Who are you and whence come you?" asked the priest.
Langsdorff, who had been severely drilled by the plenipotentiary as totext, replied with a profound bow: "We are Russians engaged incompleting the circumnavigation of the globe. It was our intention togo dire
ctly to Monterey and present our official documents, as well asour respects, to your illustrious Governor, but owing to contrary windsand a resultant scarcity of provisions, we were under the necessity ofputting into the nearest harbor. The Juno is navigated by LieutenantDavidov and Lieutenant Khovstov, of the Imperial Navy of Russia; bygracious permission associated with the Marine of the Russo-AmericanCompany." He paused a moment, and then swept out his trump card with amagnificent flourish: "Our expedition is in command of His Excellency,Privy Counsellor and Grand Chamberlain Baron Rezanov, late Ambassadorto the Court of Japan, Plenipotentiary of the Russo-American Company,Imperial Inspector of the extreme eastern and northwestern Americandominions of His Imperial Majesty, Alexander the First, Emperor of allthe Russias, whose representatives in these waters he is."
The Spaniards were properly impressed as the priest translated with theglibness of the original; but Arguello, who announced himself asCommandante ad interim of the Presidio of San Francisco during theabsence of his father at Monterey, nodded sagely several times, andthen held a short conference in Spanish with the interpreter. Thepriest turned to the Russians with a smile as diplomatic as that whichRezanov had drilled upon the ugly ingenuous countenance of his medicineman.
"Our illustrious Governor, Don Jose Arrillaga, received word from thecourt of Spain, now quite two years ago, of the sailing in 1803 fromKronstadt of the ships Nadeshda and Neva, in command of CaptainKrusenstern and Captain Lisiansky, the former having on board theillustrious Ambassador to Japan, the Privy Counsellor and Chamberlainde Rezanov. It was expected that these ships would touch at more thanone of His Most Holy Catholic Majesty's vast dominions, and allviceroys and gobernador proprietarios were alike instructed to receivethe exalted representatives of the mighty Emperor of Russia withhospitality and respect. But we cannot understand why his excellencycomes to us so late and in so small a ship, rather than in the statewith which he sailed from Europe."
"The explanation is simple, my father. The original ships, from avariety of circumstances, were, upon our arrival at Kamchatka, at theconclusion of the embassy to Japan, under the necessity of returning atonce to Europe. His Imperial Majesty, Alexander the First, ordered theChamberlain and plenipotentiary, the representative of imperial powerin the Russo-American possessions, to remove to the Juno for thepurpose of visiting the Kurile and Aleutian Islands, Kadiak and thenorthwestern coast of America." The Tsar had never heard of the Juno,but as Rezanov was practically his august self in these far-awaywaters, there was enough of truth in this statement to appease theconscience of a subordinate.
The Spaniards were satisfied. Lieutenant Arguello begged that theemissaries would return to the ship and invite the Chamberlain and hisparty to come at once to the Presidio and do it the honor to partake ofthe poor hospitality it afforded. An officer galloped furiously forhorses.
A few moments later they were still more deeply impressed by theappearance of their distinguished visitor as he stood erect in the boatthat brought him to shore. In full uniform of dark green and goldlace, with cocked hat and the splendid order of St. Ann on his breast,Rezanov was by far the finest specimen of a man the Californians,themselves of ampler build than their European ancestors, had everbeheld. Of commanding stature and physique, with an air of highestbreeding and repose, he looked both a man of the great world and anintolerant leader of men. His long oval face was thin and somewhatlined, the mouth heavily moulded and closely set, suggestive of sarcasmand humor; the nose long, with arching and flexible nostrils. His eyes,seldom widely opened, were light blue, very keen, usually cold. Likemany other men of his position in Europe, he had discarded wig andqueue and wore his short fair hair unpowdered.
It was a singularly imposing but hardly attractive presence, thoughtyoung Arguello, until Rezanov, after stepping on shore and bowingformally, suddenly smiled and held out his hand. Then theimpressionable Spaniard "melted like a woman," as he told his sister,Concha, and would have embraced the stranger on either cheek had notawe lingered to temper his enthusiasm. But Rezanov never made astauncher friend than Louis Arguello, who vowed to the last of his daysthat the one man who had fulfilled his ideal of the grand seigneur washe that sailed in from the North on that fateful April morning of 1806.
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