Pious Alvarado crossed himself. He glanced uneasily at Padre
Castillo,--at the board. Only one or two priests were left at the
beautiful settlements clustering around the old mission churches.
To-day these are the only architectural ornaments of Alta California.

"I doubt the wisdom of breaking up the missions," said Alvarado,
with gloomy brow. A skeleton was at this feast. The troubled Governor
could not see the handwriting on the wall. He felt California was
a priceless jewel to Mexico. He feared imprudent measures. Lying
dormant, California slept since Cabrillo saw Cape Mendocino in
1542. After he turned his shattered prows back to Acapulco on June
27, 1543, it was only on November 10, 1602, that ambitious Viscaino
raised the Spanish ensign at San Diego. He boldly claimed this
golden land for Spain. Since that furtive visit, the lonely coast
lay unsettled. It was only used as a haunt by wild pirates, lurking
to attack the precious Philippine galleons sailing to Acapulco. For
one hundred and sixty-eight years the land was unvisited. Spanish
greed and iron rule satisfied itself with grinding the Mexicans
and turning southward in the steps of Balboa and Pizarro.

Viscaino's neglected maps rotted in Madrid for two centuries.
Fifty-five years of Spanish rule left California undeveloped, save
by the gentle padres who, aided by their escort, brought in the
domestic animals. They planted fruit-trees, grains, and the grape.
They taught the peaceful Indians agriculture. Flax, hemp, and
cotton supplanted the skins of animals.

Alvarado and Vallejo remembered the Spanish war in 1822. At this
banquet of victory, neither thought that, a few years later, the