ber, 1602, the Bay of Monterey; this name he gave it in honor of the Count de Monterey, Viceroy of Mexico. Viscayno next entered some small inlet in the coast a little north of San Francisco, and one of his vessels is supposed to have proceeded as far north as the Columbia river. But the splendid Bay of San Francisco was not entered by him, but to him, as to all the other Spanish navigators and Sir Francis Drake, the seal of the Golden Gate was still unbroken.

After this voyage of Viscayno, he went to Spain in hope of aid for the further prosecution of his explorations in California; however, although his report of the country was most flattering, he did not receive the necessary encouragement, and his records, maps, and charts being lost or destroyed, all about the expedition was forgotten; and, for more than a century and a half after his departure, San Diego and Monterey were unvisited. The whole country seemed to have passed from the recollection of civilized man; the red man alone was supreme in his animal life, hunting the deer and making his acorn and grasshopper pie, his shell money and flint-pointed arrow, encumbered by neither art nor fashion, other than a few feathers stuck in his hair and a few streaks of rude paint upon his cheeks and body, and in company with his squaw, who, minus chignon, high-heeled boots, and hoop-skirt, wandered in dreamy apathy over the rugged mountains, amidst the dense forests, through the beautiful valleys, and along the murmuring streams. On the 25th of October, 1697, we find Salva Tierra, with a company of six soldiers and three Indians, pitching his tent at the Bay of San Dionysio, a little south of San Bruno, Lower California. Tierra was sent by the Society of Jesuits on a mission for the spiritual con

quest of California; into this project the Viceroy of Mexico and the King of Spain entered with much interest, the latter being anxious to have the permanent possession of a country of whose riches much had been said by visitors.

In the powers granted to Tierra was added a commission from the King of Spain, which empowered the colonists to enlist soldiers at their own expense, and to appoint officers of justice in the new land; this, however, to be without putting the government of Spain to any expense, or drawing upon it for funds, without the express orders of the King: further, he was to take possession of the country and hold it in the name of his majesty. At Loreto, on the Bay of San Dionysio, Tierra planted his garrison and erected a little chapel; before its door he placed a crucifix, and in the name of the King of Spain took formal possession of the country on the 25th of October, 1697.

The Rev. Father Tierra, having established his mission, began his work of the conversion of the heathen; he collected them at his little chapel, where, after having endeavored to instruct them in the catechism and prayer, he fed the inner man with small portions of boiled maize. This was so much appreciated that when, on account of its scarcity, the pious fathers began to lessen the supply, the new converts gathered their tribes from far and near and conspired for the murder of the whole missionary band, ten only in number. These, however, successfully withstood the attack of over five hundred savages, and drove them in confusion from the mission. The continued kindness of the fathers, and the fact that a state of war would deprive them of their new luxury, soon drew the Indians around the cross; and

the missionary work continued not only to maintain its footing but to make its way slowly through the peninsula.

In the year 1700, by the arrival of Father Ugarte from Mexico, a new impetus was added to the labors of the missionaries. He settled at St. Xavier, Lower California, with the prayers of Mary of Savoy and King Philip of Spain, that he might be prospered in diffusing Catholicism, accompanying him; but most likely better still than these, the supplies from Mexico, furnished by the indefatigable Father Kino, which, with the increase of cattle and sheep at the missions, brought some apparent success to the cause of the cross, to which concurring causes we may also add the habits of industry inculcated by Father Tierra on the native population.

All along, from the first discovery of the coast, California was supposed to be an island, and on the maps and charts was called Islas Carolinas; and not until Father Kino's expedition to the waters of the Colorado and across the Gulf of California, in 1702, was it determined that California was not an island, but a part of the mainland of the American continent, and that the Gulf of California ended at the mouth of the waters of the Colorado, leaving the land lying west of it a penin sula. But it required the expedition of Father Ugarte. in 1722, to fully settle the question, that the waters of the Colorado and the Gulf of California had no outlet except between the mainland of Mexico and Lower California. This expedition, made by the reverend father on board of his rude craft, The Triumph of the Cross, built on the shores of the Gulf of California for this express purpose, was the fullest and most thorough

survey of the whole gulf and coast made up to that period.

Up to 1745, repeated massacres by the Indians, of the fathers of the missions, had, at times, almost depopulated the coast. At this time there were only sixteen small missions, all confined to the barren region of the peninsula of Lower California; still their beacon lights. and fresh supplies of provisions to the famished and scurvied crews of the yearly galleon which, on her voyage from the Philippine islands to Panama, visited them, was no small part of their usefulness.

All the labors of piety, and efforts to utilize the native population by teaching habits of industry, were carried on by the untiring energy and zeal of the Jesuit fathers, at a large outlay of labor and money, together with sacrifice of comfort: the money was received by donations from the friends of the missions in Spain and Mexico. But all the labors and sacrifices of the early fathers were doomed to destruction. King Charles of Spain, jealous of the political influence of the Jesuit order throughout his dominions, in 1767, issued a decree expelling the whole order from his possessions. This was speedily executed both in Mexico and California: the missions, funds, and all were assigned to the Franciscan monks of Mexico, and the Jesuits themselves placed under their control, with Father Junipero Serra as president. Serra, on the 1st day of April, 1768, entered Loreto, the capital of the missions on the peninsula, and took formal possession.

Under the leadership of the energetic Father Serra, new life was infused into the missionary establishments on the peninsula. But soon another religious Romish order-that of the Dominican friars-was granted power

by the King of Spain to enter the missionary field at the missions already established; sooner, however, than make a division of the labor with a rival organization, the Franciscans abandoned the entire field of the peninsula of Lower California, and started westward to found new missions and introduce civilization into Upper California.

The expedition, under the new order of things, made ample preparations for a permanent settlement. Companies of soldiers, with muleteers, herds, and flocks, were to proceed overland from Lower California, whilst two vessels, equipped and provisioned, were to proceed by sea as far north at least as San Diego.

About this time a new order was received in Mexico by the Vicar-general, from the King of Spain, to make a settlement at San Diego, and possess and hold the country. On this new enterprise, headed by Father Junipero Serra, the San Carlos, the first of the two vessels, commanded by Don Vicente Vilal, with sixty-two persons on board, sailed from Cape St. Lucas, Lower California, on the 9th of January, 1769, for San Diego. She was followed, on the 15th of the same month, by the San Antonio, commanded by Don Juan Perez; and, on the 16th of June, the San José sailed from Loreto. After nearly a four months voyage, the San Carlos, on the 1st day of May, arrived at San Diego; on the 11th day of April following, the San Antonio arrived at the same port, after a most perilous voyage and the loss of several of the crew by scurvy; but the ill-fated San José, after leaving Loreto, was never heard of.