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Ghosts that Walk the Mission Grounds: Classic Tales from Old California |
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An eBook collection of the most enduring stories from the mission era by the best writers of the early 1900s. Over a century ago several superb writers published collections of stories from the "days of the dons," that remarkable period in California's early history when a chain of Spanish missions extended from San Diego to Sonoma, and much of the land was still a wilderness. What fascinated people one hundred years ago isn't really that different from today -- love stories, human tragedies, tales of lost treasure, pirate raids, lives of bravery and courage. The stories that endured from the mission era -- told and retold by descendants of the early settlers, Mission Indians and curious newcomers -- were recorded -- and in some cases undoubtedly embellished -- by authors like Mrs. A.S.C. Forbes, Charles Francis Saunders, J. Smeaton Chase and Charles Franklin Carter. The books they published in the early 1900s are no longer in print. Ghosts that Walk the Mission Grounds: Classic Stories of Early California recaptures these lost treasures for a new generation. They tell tales that deserve to be remembered. Our eBook also contains fascinating early drawings such as the sketch of Fort Ross by the Russian and historic photos, such as the turn of the century photo of a visitor to Mission Santa Ines. Sample Chapter It was the third attempt of the Russians to establish a colony in New Albion; so when the neat brig Chirikof cast anchor in the Bay of Rumiantzof--now known as Bodega--there was rejoicing on the part of Ivan Alexandrovich Kuskof, in whose charge the expedition came, and little less cheer on the part of the ninety-odd convicts and eighty Aleuts who were sent to assist him in the enterprise. This was in March, 1811. The site for the new town had been selected by Prince Rezanof in 1806, and was well known to the Indians as Mad-shui-nui. It was some eighteen miles up the coast from the only safe landing-place, and it commanded a view of unsurpassable beauty as well as undeniable safety; and, because of the latter quality, the Russian had purchased it by barter from the Indians, thereby settling for all time the question of occupation, so far as the natives were concerned. Kuskof paid to the chief of the Mayacmas three blankets, three pairs of Russian breeches, two axes, three hoes, and a quantity of beads for the town site and for the tillable land adjacent to the hills upon which the future fort was to be established. The Aleuts were sent out in their bidarkas to hunt for seal and otter, while the convicts, under the direction of twenty-five mechanics, cut and prepared timber for the buildings. For a month the sound of the axe and the heavy thud of the falling monarchs of the forest were the new thrills to the mountainsides that sent the loose rocks tumbling to the gulches, that they too might take voice and action in the new enterprise. The site selected was a succession of three small mesas, one above another, the lowest one ending in an abrupt cliff about one hundred feet above the sea. Two deep gulches enclosed this semicircle, and the height above the background was a crowning mass of dense ancient redwood, sending towering spires up into the very skies. From the summit a timber chute sent the felled redwoods to the last mesa below, where Kuskof intended to build the fort. By September the buildings were ready for dedication and occupancy. The tenth of that month being the name-day of Alexander, the Emperor of Russia, these rough men of the frontier held a picturesque service of song and feast, and ended the festival by dedicating the fort as "Little Rossiya"--meaning "Little Russia." As each year passed, buildings were added to "Little Rossiya," until the village became known far and wide as Fort Ross. Kuskof, the agent of the Russian Fur Company of Alaska, took pride in his village. He surrounded it with a stockade defense twelve feet in height; built a blockhouse in one corner and a chapel in the other--both used as towers of defense with mounted cannon, the fort containing from fifteen to forty pieces of artillery. Outside the stockade on the mesa were the huts for the Aleuts and natives; there were granaries, workshops, stockyards, and an immense windmill and bathhouse. There was but one entrance to the stockade, and but one approach from the sea. This was by way of stairs cut in the rock, with an iron handrail leading down to the boatlanding; therefore any traveler coming by sea must mount the stone steps that led to the entrance gate, and any one coming by land must finally reach the same gateway. A few straggling huts were to be found down in the gulches, but the paths led from these also again to the gate. Kuskof spent many interested years within the quaint walls of Fort Ross, with only business and mild pleasures to divert him. His coming to the Bay had made great consternation among the Spanish settlers at Yerba Buena (San Francisco), but his going gave little concern. It was not until a beautiful woman came to dwell at Little Rossiya that the Spaniards took note of the Fort and interchanged many social compliments. "A princess has arrived at Fort Ross!" "She is beautiful, she is vivacious, she is grand!" "Muy buena--very good--we will go." And such was the sentiment of the entire country. Prince Alexander Rotscheff had brought his lovely bride, the Princess Helene de Gagarin, to live at Fort Ross. The coming of the courtly woman, with her train of attendants and her sumptuous wedding wardrobe, gave life to the Fort and to the surrounding Spanish settlements, such as they had never known. General Vallejo of Sonoma and his cultured family eagerly welcomed the Princess and her merry court. The rides through the forest and along the sloping banks of the Russian River, over the uplands between the hills that lead to the rich Sonoma Valley, where the wild flowers carpeted the land and sent out their sweet fragrance, were the prime joy and pastime of these Russian lovers. Many were the visits to the hospitable ranch of Sonoma Valley, and many the invitations to festivals and fandangos, where the bride's wealth of blond loveliness cast charming contrast on the dark radiance of the Spanish beauties. Many a time the fair stranger was bathed in cologne showers and covered with fine gold and silver bits from a dozen cascarones that were broken and flashed over her. She soon embraced the fiesta spirit, and she herself and her companions prepared and brought filled eggshells and uncorked scent-bottles, and joined in the merry game of carnival joy. Princess Helene led the contradance, the stately minuet of the Spanish ball, and with the same flush of youth listened to the verses and dances of "Los Camotes," "Las Pollitas," or "La Jota," as they were danced by the gay crowds without, and even laughingly sang with the chorus of "El Sombrero Bianco" "Quieres que te ponga mi sombrero blanco? Quieres que te ponga mi sombrero azul? Quieres que te sienta mi vida, en un trono? Quieres que te cante el turun, tu, tun?" and announced that she would forego the crown and take the white hat. This carefree, fun-loving Princess took delight and interest in everything. She applauded the perfect execution of the "Jarabe," as some ancient dame pattered with her feet so swiftly and so deftly for such a length of time that even the fair patroness was wont to cry, "Enough!" She herself would shower the dancer of the "Son" with pieces; of gold and silver when the glass of water was presented to her, which the pretty dancer had carried upon her head while she traveled the silken hobble from her ankles to her knees and back again. She loved the gay, picturesque costumes of the new country, and the open court of the patio, with its wealth of Castilian roses of delicate pink mingling with the pure white of the many lilies, as they twined and clustered over the singing fountain and in and about the pillars and arches of the spacious quadrangle or the sequestered family patio. The visit ended, Helene and the dashing Rotscheff would return to their aerie in the pines, carrying back with them gay companions of the warm Southern blood, there to make merry in the quiet fortress of the hill. Today Little Rossiya was gala in its quaint dress of bright Russian banners, pennons, and flags, intermingled with the golden yellow and crimson red of Spanish colors; for the Princess had arranged a boat-race of bidarkas to take place while the sea was calm, just below the great stone steps. The crude stairway was covered with magnificent skins of the polar bear, and the entire one hundred and sixteen steps were filled with Russian and Spanish maiden beauty. Helene's golden head seemed the crowning bit of glory. The girls laughed and sang, while the Aleuts paddled their seal boats into line; and when a sharp crack rang out over the sea, the bidarkas sprang forward, and a shout of encouragement arose from the top of the mesa, where the men covered the open space and clung to the crags for an advantage. The course was short, and the races were repeated until the spectators were tired. To each winner money was thrown by one of the bright beauties. When it came the turn of fair-haired Rosalie to toss the money to a swarthy-faced Indian, her foot slipped, and, despite the iron rail, she fell beneath it and went headlong into the sea. The height was not great, but she had not reached the water before the Indian; he carefully lifted her out of the waves and placed her upon the bidarka amid the cheers of the spectators. She waved her hand, and--as if it were part of the show--ordered that the bidarka be landed at the foot of the stone stairs. Days and months passed but slowly. The long days of fog and winter rains, and the chill winds moaning through the giant trees above the fortress, made even these stoutest lovers pine for the gay warmth of Russian court life. After three years of isolation, Princess Helene joyously contemplated a return to her home at St. Petersburg. But an event occurred which caused greatest consternation. Among her many admirers, there was one upon whom the Princess had not counted, and of whom she did not know. Upon one of many visits to the hospitable rancho of Sonoma, her party met with a small band of Indian braves. At the head rode their chief, Solano, he who ruled all the many tribes and sub-tribes of the Sonoma Valley and the mountains beyond. He was a powerful chief; a man of great valor and broad, noble mind. He was in truth Emperor of all these people. He had heard of the strangers of the Fort, and had many times exchanged and bartered foods and hides with them, but he never had seen this wonderful goddess, this fair-haired, pale-faced beauty. Strange as the strangest freak of nature, the dark-skinned son of the forest loved at one sight the fair girl of the Fort. To him, desire meant possession. He knew no law superior to his own will; and though the strange passion seemed even to him a curious thing, he never thought of anything else than to satisfy his love and bring home to his lodge the new wife of his choice. All Indian chiefs may possess as many wives as they wish; and when one sees a new face that attracts him, it is his privilege to have her brought to his home. Of course, Chief Solano knew that the customs of the white-faced people were different. However, his passionate love for this beautiful jewel outweighed everything else. He could carry her off into the high mountains and hide her away from all searchers; and the fastnesses of his forest lair could be guarded by his faithful people so that no white man could enter the region and live. Such were his thoughts and desires; and to carry them out he called a council of all his sub-chiefs and told them his wishes. A strong band of braves was to go with him to the Fort and at night attack and set fire to the stockade and adjoining buildings. While the fire raged, he himself would capture and carry off Helene, the fair-haired, silken shower of sunshine, the singing flower of his soul. They would then flee with her to the heart of the Mayacmas forest, and each chief would set a watch to guard the approaches, allowing no stranger to pass through the mountains. All seemed in readiness, and no one dared voice dissent to their chief. But all unawares there was a traitor heart in the council. Some said it was the very man of the bidarka, who had lost his blond girl of the sea; who, when he had asked to have the girl sent to him, had received a lash and a swift kick for his pains. And now that the chief merely wished an additional wife, all the Indians were willing to help him--and this heart rebelled. No matter who told, but the secret love and the planned attack, with all the details, were conveyed to the knowledge of General Vallejo. The gallant General had held many councils with Chief Solano; and, though he knew that this matter was most delicate and most serious, he did not hesitate to dispatch a courier at once to the Chief, asking him to come for an early interview to the Mission. Chief Solano, never dreaming that his project or his love could have reached the ear of his friend the General, without hesitation delayed his attack on Fort Ross, and went to meet him. With the delicate tact of a Spanish officer, the courteous General brought the Indian to acknowledge the strong friendship existing between the Indian tribes and the Spanish; he rehearsed the great strength of the army of Spain, and the still greater power of the army of Russia; he spoke of the number of ships and of men that each ruler could send into any country that opposed his laws or did great harm to his people. He diplomatically led the subject to the laws of each country, remarking that the Indian Chief took what he wished from his people, but that the Spaniard and Russian courteously sought permission of fair women even to pay them court; and not until the women were mentioned did Solano see that the General knew of his secret. It took firm, persuasive insistence on the part of General Vallejo to convince the Indian Chief that for the good of his own people he must resign his claim for the Princess if he wished to enjoy the goodwill of her nation. The attack was not made. General Vallejo was loath to see his friends of Fort Ross depart for the distant land of the Great Bear; but he felt, as well as did Prince Rotscheff, that the fair Princess would be much safer within the walled court of St. Petersburg. So they went away, casting two charming shadows on the stream of Spanish life in California. Story Sources Stories written by Charles Francis Saunders and J. Smeaton Chase Sister Mary Dominica Arguello Originally titled "The Rose and
the Pine" La Beata: Sister of Charity Originally titled "La Beata"
A California Love Story: Nikolai and Concepcion Originally titled "Concepcion
Arguello" |
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