The Lure of San Francisco Part 3

"Let's go back." He wheeled about abruptly and started in the direction of the square, but I protested.

"I am hungry and I want some luncheon!" "Then we'll return this afternoon." There was determination in his voice.

"We will hardly have time if we visit Luis Arguello's home at the Presidio," I objected.

"All right, we'll take it in tomorrow, then."

Hastening on, we were soon in the midst of the huddled houses of the Latin quarter. Tucked away between two larger buildings, we found a quaint Spanish restaurant. As we opened our tamales, my companion again referred to Portsmouth Square.

"Tell me about it," he demanded. "Does it date with the Mission and Presidio?"

"No, it is of later birth, but still of equal interest in the history of San Francisco. The city grew up from three points--the Mission"--I pulled a poppy from my bouquet and placed it on the table to mark the old adobe--"the Presidio"--I moved a salt cellar to the right of the flower--"and the town of Yerba Buena," this I indicated by a pepper box below the other two. "Roads connected these points like the sides of a triangle and gradually the intervening s.p.a.ces were filled with houses."

"Go on." He leaned back in his chair, but I had already risen. "It will be more interesting to hear the story on the spot tomorrow," I a.s.sured him as I drew on my gloves.

The Presidio

The Spanish Fortifications and the Love Story of Concepcion and Rezanov

The Presidio Past and Present

We hailed a car marked "Exposition" and were soon climbing the hills to the west. Between the houses, we had fleeting glances of the bay with its freight of vessels. Here waved the tri-color of France, while next to it the black, white and red flag of Germany was flung to the breeze, and within a stone's throw, Johnny Bull had cast out his insignia. At a little distance the ships of Austria and Russia rested side by side, and between the vessels the bustling little ferry-boats were churning up the blue water.

"It is difficult to picture this bay as it was in early Spanish days," I said, "dest.i.tute of boats and so full of otter that when the Russians and Alaskan Aleuts began plundering these waters, they had only to lean from the canoes and kill hundreds with their oars."

"But what right had the Russian here? Why didn't the Spaniards stop them? Otter must have brought a good price in those days." There was a ring of indignation in his voice, that told his interest had been aroused.

"San Francisco was helpless. There was not a boat on the bay, except the rude tule canoes of the Indians--'boats of straw'--Vancouver called them, and these were no match for the swift darting bidarkas of the Alaskan natives."

"And Luis Arguello in command!"

"I saw my idol falling, and hastened to a.s.sure him that the Comandante had built a boat a short time before, but the result was so disastrous that he never tried it again. The Presidio was in great need of repair and the government at Mexico had paid no heed to the constant requests for a.s.sistance, so Comandante Arguello had determined to take matters into his own hands. The peninsula was dest.i.tute of large timber, but ten miles across the bay were abundant forests, if he could but reach them.

He, therefore, secured the services of an English carpenter to construct a boat, while his men traveled two hundred miles by land, down the peninsula to San Jose, along the contra costa, across the straits of Carquinez and touching at the present location of Petaluma and San Rafael, finally arrived at the spot selected. In the meantime the soldiers were taught to sail the craft, and the first ferryboat, at length started across the bay. But a squall was encountered, the land-loving men lost their heads, and it was only through Arguello's presence of mind that the boat finally reached its destination. For the return trip, the services of an Indian chief were secured, a native who had been seen so often on the bay in his raft of rushes, that the Spaniards called him 'El Marino,' the Sailor, and this name, corrupted into Marin, still clings to the land where he lived. Many trips were made in this ferry, but the comandante's subordinates were less successful than he, for one, being swept out to sea, drifted about for a day or two until a more favorable wind and tide brought him back to San Francisco. The Spaniards called the land where the trees were felled 'Corte Madera,' the place of hewn-wood, and a little town on the site still bears the name."

"But what became of the boat? You said--"

"Governor Sola was furious that any one should dare to build a boat without his orders. He called it 'insubordination.' How did he know what was the real purpose of the craft? Might it not have been built to aid the Russians in securing otter or to help the 'Boston Nation' in their nefarious smuggling?"

My companion straightened with interest, "The Boston Nation?"

"Yes, even in those days the Yankee skippers, who occasionally did a little secret trading with the padres, told such marvelous stories of Boston that the Spaniards thought it must be a nation instead of a little town. In fact, the United States does not seem to have been considered of much importance by Spain, for when the American ship 'Columbia' was expected to touch on this coast it was referred to as 'General Washington's vessel.'"

"Go on with your boat story," a smile played about the corners of his mouth. "What became of the craft?"

"The Governor ordered it sent to Monterey and commanded Arguello to appear before him. The Comandante was surprised to have his work thus suddenly interrupted but hastened to obey orders. On the way his horse stumbled and fell, injuring his rider's leg so seriously that when Arguello reached Monterey, he was hardly able to stand. Without stopping to have his injury dressed, he limped into the Governor's presence, supporting himself on his sword.

"'How dared you build a launch and repair your Presidio without my permission?' exclaimed the exasperated Governor.

"'Because I and my soldiers were living in hovels, and we were capable of bettering our condition,' was the reply.

"Governor Sola, not noted for his genial temper, raised his cane with the evident intention of using it, when he noticed that the young Comandante had drawn himself erect and was handling the hilt of his naked sword.

"'Why did you do that?' the Governor demanded.

"'Because I was tired of my former position, and also because I do not intend to be beaten without resistance,' Arguello answered.

"For a moment the Governor was taken back, then he held out his hand.

'This is the bearing of a soldier and worthy of a man of honor,' he said. 'Blows are only for cowards who deserve them.'

"Arguello took the outstretched hand and from this time he and the Governor were close friends. But the boat proved so useful at Monterey, that it was never returned."

The Jeweled Tower of the Exposition came into view. "So it is to be the three months' old World's Fair, after all, instead of the home of the first Mexican Governor of California?"

But I did not rise. "The Presidio is just beyond," I explained. Then seeing him glancing admiringly at the green domes: "Perhaps you would rather--"

"No," he answered me, "I'm an antiquary and I want to see the old adobe house."

Leaving the car at the Presidio entrance, we pa.s.sed down the shaded driveway and along the winding path that led to the old parade ground.

"This military reservation covers about the same ground as the old Spanish Presidio," I explained. "At that time, however, it was a sweep of tawny sand-dunes, for the Spaniards had neither the ability nor the money to beautify the place. After it came into possession of the Americans, lupins were scattered broadcast as a first means of cultivation and for a time the undulating hills were veiled in blue.

Later, groves of pine and eucalyptus trees together with gra.s.s and flowers were planted, until now it may be regarded as one of the parks of San Francisco. This was the original plaza of the old Spanish Presidio," I continued, as we emerged onto the quadrangle, "and it was then lined with houses as it is today, only at that time they were crude adobe structures. Surrounding these was a wall fourteen feet high, made of huge upright and horizontal saplings plastered with mud, and as a further means of protection, a wide ditch was dug on the outside. Here Luis Arguello was Comandante for twenty-three years."

Our eyes wandered over the substantial structures with their well-trimmed gardens and rested on a low rambling building opposite, protected from the gaze of the curious by an old palm and guarded by a quaint Spanish cannon. The building's simple outlines, even at a distance, bespoke it as of a different generation from its more aggressive neighbors, even though its red-tiled roof had been replaced by sombre brown shingles, and its crumbling walls replastered. We crossed over the parade ground, and peering within, found that the building had been converted into an officers' club house.

"Did you see the bronze tablet on the front?" I demanded.

"Yes," he admitted rather sheepishly, turning to examine the deep window embrasure that showed the width of the walls.

"There's an atmosphere of romance about the old place--"

"And well there may be," I broke in, "for it was here that Rafaela Sal came as a bride, and that Rezanov met Luis Arguello's beautiful sister, Concepcion, and a love story began which may well take place with that of Miles Standish and Priscilla."

"Rezanov," he repeated, searching his memory. "I recall that there was a romance connected with his visit to San Francis...o...b..t the details have escaped me. Please sit down on this bench and tell me the story just as if I had never heard it before."

"More than a century ago there dwelt in this old adobe house a beautiful maiden," I began. "Her father was Comandante of the Presidio, 'el Santo,' the people termed him, because of his goodness. Concepcion, or Concha, as she was affectionately called by her parents, was only fifteen years old when our story begins--a tall, slender girl with ma.s.ses of fine black hair and the fair Castilian skin, inherited from her mother. So lovely was she that many a caballero had already sung at her grating, but she would listen to none of them. Her lover would come from over the sea, she declared, someone who could tell her about the wide outside world.

"'Then you will die unmarried,' said her mother, kissing the soft cheek, 'for travelers seldom come as far as San Francisco.'

"'A ship! a ship!' sounded a cry from the plaza. A vessel had been sighted off Cantil Blanco, the first foreign ship seen since Vancouver's visit fourteen years before.

"'It is the Russian expedition which Spain has ordered us to treat courteously,' exclaimed Don Luis, bursting into the house, his face aglow with excitement. 'Since father is in Monterey and I am acting Comandante, I must receive these strangers,' he continued as he threw his serape over his shoulders, his eyes flashing with his first taste of command.

"'Be careful,' cautioned his mother, 'we have had no word from Europe for nine months and the last packet boat from Mexico brought a rumor of war with Russia.'

"But the foreign vessel had come only with friendly intentions. The Russian Chamberlain Rezanov, in charge of the Czar's northwestern possessions, had found a starving colony at Sitka and had brought a cargo of goods to the more productive southland with the hope of exchanging it for foodstuffs. To be sure, he knew the Spanish law strictly forbidding trade with foreign vessels, but it seemed the only means of saving his famishing people and he trusted much to his skill in diplomacy.