of the water, the high mountains about Santa Cruz, the low beach of
the Saunas, and the strongly-marked ridge terminating in the sea in
a point of dark pine-trees. Then the line of whitewashed houses of
adobe, backed by the groves of dark oaks, resembling old
apple-trees; and then we saw two vessels anchored close to the
town. One was a small merchant-brig and another a large ship
apparently dismasted. At last we saw a boat coming out to meet us,
and when it came alongside, we were surprised to find Lieutenant
Henry Wise, master of the Independence frigate, that we had left at
Valparaiso. Wise had come off to pilot us to our anchorage. While
giving orders to the man at the wheel, he, in his peculiar fluent
style, told to us, gathered about him, that the Independence had
sailed from Valparaiso a week after us and had been in Monterey a
week; that the Californians had broken out into an insurrection;
that the naval fleet under Commodore Stockton was all down the
coast about San Diego; that General Kearney had reached the
country, but had had a severe battle at San Pascual, and had been
worsted, losing several officers and men, himself and others
wounded; that war was then going on at Los Angeles; that the whole
country was full of guerrillas, and that recently at Yerba Buena
the alcalde, Lieutenant Bartlett, United States Navy, while out
after cattle, had been lassoed, etc., etc. Indeed, in the short
space of time that Wise was piloting our ship in, he told us more
news than we could have learned on shore in a week, and, being
unfamiliar with the great distances, we imagined that we should
have to debark and begin fighting at once. Swords were brought
out, guns oiled and made ready, and every thing was in a bustle
when the old Lexington dropped her anchor on January 26, 1847, in
Monterey Bay, after a voyage of one hundred and ninety-eight days
from New York. Every thing on shore looked bright and beautiful,