The Otter Trade and the First U.S. Citizens in Orange County
The Otter Trade and the First U.S. Citizens in Orange County
In
the year 1776 the opposite coasts of what would become the continental United
States represented two very different stories in European colonialism. On the
east coast that year, the American Colonies formally declared their
independence from the rule of King George III of Great Britain. That same
year, on the west coast, in what would later become Orange County, St. Junípero
Serra led the Spanish colonial government in the establishment of Mission San
Juan Capistrano in the name of King Carlos III of Spain. Between these two
events were thousands of miles of territory that were, at the time, relatively
undisturbed by Europeans. Only seventy-two years later, however, these opposite
coasts and their independent histories would connect when the Southwest became
a part of the United States in 1848 following the Mexican-American War.
Prior to 1848, a small group of citizens
from the United States had already made their way to California. Most of them
were crew members from ships trading for cattle hides. One notable example was
Richard Henry Dana, the famous author of a memoir, Two Years Before the Mast, and honored in the naming of the city of
Dana Point. Another was Alfred Robinson, a Bostonian merchant who married into the
prominent De la Guerra family of Santa Barbara. He later published the first
version of Father Gerónimo Boscana’s ethnological treatise of the Indians from
around Mission San Juan Capistrano, under the title Chinigchinich, in 1846.
These men, and most of the others in California who were from the United States
prior to 1848, arrived during California’s Mexican Period (1821-1848), when
officials from the newly formed country of Mexico encouraged trading cattle
hides with foreign ships carrying goods along the coast. But the first documented people from
the United States in California go back even further into the Spanish colonial era
California (1769-1821). The goal of this article is to determine when the
earliest visitors from the United States set foot in today’s Orange County and
to tell their story.
Often overlooked in the history
of Spanish Colonial California was the illicit hunting of otter. The high
prices paid in China for otter furs lured foreign traders to the coast to hunt
them. While the Spanish colonial government resisted these unwelcomed visitors,
the Spanish Californians themselves took advantage of the opportunity to
covertly trade for foreign goods brought by the hunters in their ships. The
otter therefore played a key role as the first medium of exchange that brought
California to the attention of foreign traders. The emergence of foreign
trading ships set off the sequence of events that led to California’s eventual
prominence in world trade, especially with Asia. And in the early 1800s, under
colorful circumstance, the otter trade also brought the first U.S. citizens to
visit what would later become Orange County.
Before the
Cattle Hides
It’s difficult today to
understand just how remote and isolated California was to the rest of the world
during its Spanish colonial era. Spanish authorities were unable to establish a
reliable overland route to California from Mexico, making the entire province
almost entirely dependent on annual supply ships to support the missions,
presidios (forts), and pueblos (Los Angeles and San José). Furthermore, Spain
was still firmly committed to the economic philosophy of mercantilism, generally making it illegal for colonists in California to trade with foreign ships.
With Spanish California so
isolated from the rest of the world, one may wonder what could entice vessels
from the United States to make the treacherous journey of many thousands of
miles around Cape Horn and then far to the north to the coast of California. The
answer begins in China.
In the late eighteenth century, the fur of sea-otters became popular with the Chinese elite, both as a practical material for clothing (it was very warm) and as a status symbol. Chinese aristocrats wore capes, belts, sashes, and mittens made of otter fur. A single fir could command between eighty and a hundred and twenty dollars, making sea-otters a profitable target for hunters.[1] One of the premier locations to hunt otter was the northern California coast, but otter were also found along the coast of Southern California, including today’s Orange County.
After learning of the high prices
being paid for otter pelts in China, Spanish merchants attempted to coordinate
with the Spanish colonial government to establish a profitable trade
arrangement, but several issues arose. Spanish colonial authorities disagreed
over how the pelts should be collected, distributed, and who deserved the
profits. Colonial officials in Manila in the Philippines maintained a monopoly
over all Spanish trade in Asia, putting their interests in-between the
merchants collecting the pelts and the buyers in China. This legal arrangement
increased the cost of business and was an inconvenience to the merchants who
desired to deal directly with buyers in Asia. A complex pricing schedule for
the pelts themselves was set by colonial authorities to compensate the
soldiers, Indians, and missionaries who coordinated to acquire them in
California, but inconsistencies abounded. Soldiers were often compensated more
than the Indians who collected the pelts, causing the missionaries to complain.
By the time the Spanish colonial government finally got around to addressing
these problems, foreign merchants had already worked their way into the otter
trade and taken control of the market.
At first, most of the foreign
merchants competing with the Spanish were British. The British explorer Captain
James Cook had noted the value of otter pelts found along the coast of the
Pacific Northwest during his third voyage of discovery in the years 1776-1780.
In the wake of the publication of his journals, British merchant ships with the
support of the British government began frequenting the waters of the northwest
coast in search of otter. Spanish authorities were alarmed by the increasing
presence of British ships in the northern Pacific and challenged them on the
grounds that the Pacific Northwest was Spanish territory. In 1789, the tensions
grew into an international incident when four British merchant ships were
seized by the Spanish at an outpost in the Nootka Sound, setting off what was
later dubbed the Nootka Crisis. The resulting Nootka Convention lead to Spain
relinquishing its grasp on the Pacific Northwest. Soon thereafter, there was a
significant increase in foreign merchant vessels participating in the otter
trade along the northwest coast.
It wasn’t long until merchant
ships from the United States, unburdened by the need to form complex arrangements
with their government, to begin participating in the otter trade. In the
closing years of the eighteenth century, the hunting grounds along the
northwest coast became crowded with competing traders from Russia and the
United States, causing relations
with the local Indians to sour as they became increasingly defensive against intrusions into their foraging grounds. While otter were not as plentiful in
Spanish California as the northwest coast, enterprising Americans considered how
they could circumvent Spanish colonial policy against trade with foreigners to
hunt the otter there. It wasn’t long until they found an effective strategy.
Spanish
Californians were famous for their hospitality. Previous explorers, including
the Frenchman Jean
François de Galaup, comte de Lapérouse, who visited Monterey in 1786, and the
British explorer George Vancouver, who visited Spanish California in 1792 and
1793, each praised the warm reception and hospitality provided by the Spanish
Californians. Publication of their remarks was shared far and wide and similar
experiences of other seamen were passed along via word of mouth. Sailors in the
United States may have even learned of the accommodating nature of Spanish
Californians from a couple of Americans who had joined the Spanish Naval Department of San Blas, which was
responsible for delivering California's outposts supplies. One of them, John Kendrick
Jr., rose to the rank of second pilot in the Spanish Navy in the early 1790s.
Another, Joseph O’Cain, went on to become one of the most important otter
hunters from the United States along the California coast.
The
standard approach that emerged among foreign vessels seeking otter in
California was to skirt along the coast to obtain skins through hunts or trade
with local Indians. When they came upon Spanish settlements, which were always
close to the best anchorages, Spanish soldiers were often waiting to
investigate the reason for their presence. The hunters would send a boat ashore
to tell the soldiers fabricated stories of being dangerously low on supplies
due to great storms or other unfortunate mishaps. True to their reputation, the
Spanish military leaders would usually allow for the ships to anchor and for
their crews to rest and recoup. The “struggling” crews were then often provided
water, food, and wood. After replenishing their supplies and recouping from the
tiresome exercise of spinning yarns, the crews would depart on their ships and
continue their journey skipping along the coast obtaining otter pelts until
coming upon another Spanish settlement where they could put on a new
performance. It can even be said that otter hunters from the United States were
the first compensated actors in the history of California.
For a brief few years at the very end of the 1700s, trade between Spain and the United States was made legal by the King of Spain in order to buffer supplies while Spain was at war with England. This led to an increase in vessels from the United States visiting California. The
first recorded vessel from the United States that may have hunted otter along
the coast of Orange County was the brig Garland,
which sailed from Boston in March of 1797 and skipped down the coast from
Northern California to Mexico in November of 1798. The next year the ship Eliza, captained by James Rowan, sailed a similar route from San
Francisco to Mexico from May to June, perhaps stopping along the coast of
Orange County to hunt otter. In the year 1800, the brigantine Betsy sailed from Boston and may have
also made a stop or two along today’s Orange County while sailing along the
coast of California that August and September.[2]
The Alexander
The first definite record of a ship
from the United States anchoring in San Juan Bay (today’s Dana Point) was the Alexander, captained by one John Brown
and piloted by George Washington Eayers, who would go on to have a very
interesting story in California.[3] The ship had quite a back story by the
time it reached San Juan Bay. It had sailed from Boston in 1802 and, after a
long trip around the Horn, anchored in San Diego in February of 1803. The ship
was met by the commander of the San Diego Presidio, Manuel Rodríguez. Even by
this early date, Rodríguez had learned enough about Yankee traders to be
suspicious of their intentions. When Captain Brown told a sob story about his
“scurvy-stricken” crew, Rodríguez allowed the ship to anchor, but maintained a
very careful night watch.[4] Several
days passed and, sure enough, rumors that otter pelts had been smuggled aboard
reached Rodríguez. When he boarded the Alexander
with four soldiers to investigate, he found 491 pelts stowed away. He ordered
the pelts to be taken to the presidio warehouse while he tried to determine who
had sold them to Captain Brown.
As
it turned out, Commander Rodríguez was fighting an uphill battle. His fellow
Spanish Californians were far too aware of the potential profits from trading otter pelts for money or goods to pass on the opportunity to do so.
Some of the individuals who were implicated in selling contraband were high
ranking men in the military and the missionaries. In the case of the Alexander, Corporal Onofre Villalva of the
San Diego Presidio admitted to being involved when he wrote to the governor of
Spanish California to ask if “he could retrieve the 223 otter skins that he pretended to sell” to Captain Brown.[5]
Soon thereafter, the “missionary of San Luis Rey,” who was almost certainly
Father Antonio Peyrí, wrote to Rodríguez asking for the “170 otter pelts” that
were sold to Captain Brown “by mission Indians” to be returned.[6]
Rodríguez was stuck between his orders from Mexico City to prevent foreign
trade and the apparent desire to trade with foreigners among some of the most
respected members of his province. He remained loyal to his colonial superiors,
but in the case of the otter pelts obtained from the Alexander, the process of sorting out the legal responsibility for
what had occurred took so long that all of the valuable otter pelts spoiled and
were dispensed with in the ocean.[7]
Captain
Brown and the Alexander were now in a
race against Commander Rodríguez. Brown had the advantage of being in a sailing
ship while Rodríguez had to send soldiers by horse up and down California to
give warning about Brown’s true intentions. Sure enough, the Alexander anchored in Todos Santos Bay
in Baja California where Brown requested wood and animals. The corporal at the
local Spanish settlement denied the request, having received word from Rodríguez
of what had occurred in San Diego. Brown then continued south to try to stay
ahead of Rodríguez.
Meanwhile,
another ship from the United States, the Lelia
Bird, arrived in San Diego in March of 1803. Rodríguez was now more than
suspicious of vessels from the United States, and when he determined that its
crew, too, was only attempting to obtain otter pelts, he made a move to prevent
them from being able to obtain contraband. In response, the Lelia Bird made a hasty retreat from San
Diego while trading cannon fire with the guns of Fort Guijarros, which was
located on the point of the same name. While the Lelia Bird took some damage, it was able to sail south and, for the
time being, steer clear of Alta California and Commander Rodríguez.
By
this time, however, Rodríguez was fed up and started warning every mission
within the jurisdiction of the San Diego Presidio, including Mission San Juan
Capistrano, to turn visiting ships from the United States away. It wasn’t long
until his orders were put to the test. In early June of 1803, Captain Brown and
the Alexander appeared in San Juan
Bay after bypassing San Diego on the way back north. At the time, the ship
could be seen from the mission itself and the missionaries of Mission San Juan
Capistrano, Fathers Juan Norberto Santiago and Jose Faura, had to decide of
what to do. It seems that the corporal of the guard, who was likely José María
Verdugo, and some of the other soldiers met the launch from the ship, which probably
landed on today’s Doheney State Beach.[8] Even
if the Spanish authorities had changed their strategy, Captain Brown continued
to use the same tricks. He once again passed along that the ship needed
“supplies and water.”[9] While
it’s clear that the soldiers would have been directed by Rodríguez to deny such
requests, it’s unknown if they followed orders. The ship remained anchored for
a couple days, suggesting that Captain Brown was able to obtain something of interest, either in the
form of supplies, contraband trade, or otter hunts along Dana Point. Whatever
he acquired, it was enough for him to sail the Alexander back to San Juan Bay just a couple of months later in
August, following a visit to the Pacific Northwest.[10]
From there, the ship sailed all the way to China to sell its furs.
The Hazard and the Lelia Bird
Prior to the Alexander’s second trip to San Juan Bay in about August of 1803, it had anchored in San Francisco Bay along with the Hazard, another otter hunting ship captained by James Rowan and originally from Providence, Rhode Island. Rowan had also been the captain of the Eliza, which sailed along the coast of California in 1799. The Hazard had just arrived to San Francisco from the northwest coast. Its trip so far had been fraught with problems. It had sailed as far as Macao, where Rowan took on one John “Debbes” as pilot, and his wife, Mary Joseph “Ebata,” who was about twenty-five years old. From Macao, they sailed to Hawaii and thence to the northwest coast. While in Nootka, John Debbes was killed by Indians, leaving Mary Ebata alone on the ship. Following Debbes’ death, Rowan apparently named his brother, John Rowan, as the new pilot.[11]
In
San Francisco, it seems Captain Brown of the Alexander informed Captain Rowan that otter were plentiful along
the coast of California south of San Francisco. He also passed along his
strategy of feigning mishaps to win the good graces of the Spanish Californians
along the way. Rowan took Brown’s advice and sailed the Hazard south.
When the Hazard came to anchor at various points along the coast, Captain Rowan
ordered the crew to tell any Spanish soldiers who came to meet them that they were
low on water and firewood, or that they were sick and ailing from fierce combat
with Indians along the northwest coast, or that the ship was damaged. But after
pulling his scheme in Santa Barbara, Rowan got cold feet when the commander of
the presidio there, Raymundo Carrillo, permitted only enough crew ashore to
obtain wood and water. Rowan sailed the Hazard
southward with no apparent success in the trade of contraband or hunting
otter from Santa Barbara to San Pedro.
Captain Rowan’s next stop was San
Juan Bay, where the Hazard anchored on
September 1, 1803. When he ordered the launch ashore, it was met by Corporal Joaquín
Osuña. Fearing that Commander Carrillo sent word south of his scheme, Rowan
claimed that his ship was not the Hazard,
but instead the Eliza, which he had
captained along the coast of California in 1799. He told the corporal the now familiar story of mishaps and claimed
that he and his crew needed water and firewood. The corporal wrote to his
superior, Commander Rodríguez, to seek guidance. This bought Rowan time, who was
likely able to send men ashore at Dana Point to get fresh water and firewood
from San Juan Creek. It’s also possible that he sent men to hunt otter, or
trade for pelts from the locals.
Everything changed late into the
night of September 2. Under a bright full moon, three young sailors and a woman
suddenly “appeared to the Corporal Joaquín Osuña at the guard house,” having
made their way through the cold surf and onshore winds and then walked the
two-mile-long trail to reach the mission.[12]
They told Osuña that they brought the woman to leave her at the mission because
“she was going to cause the crew to mutiny.” Osuña refused, leading to a tense
argument in which Osuña learned that the woman’s presence aboard the ship was
causing the crew to quarrel over her well-being. Finally, the sailors said that
“if she wasn’t allowed to remain, they would leave her among the gentiles
[Indians] on the local islands [Santa Catalina or San Clemente].” Osuña
couldn’t allow this to happen and wrote to Commander Rodríguez after the event
that he was “forced to take her, and placed her in the house of a soldier.”[13]
By this time, some of the married soldiers of the guard lived in adobes
separate from the guard house with their families. The surviving adobes along
Rios Street may have been used such a purpose. In any case, Osuña likely
thought she’d be relatively safe staying with one of the soldier-families.
The woman’s name was Mary Josephine
“Ebata,” which may have been a phonetic Spanish spelling of the surname “Abbott.” The local Spanish authorities soon learned that in the midst of her mourning the loss of her husband, the pilot of the ship, John
Rowan, had been making advances towards her. Mary Ebata resisted, causing divisions
among the crew and prompting Captain Rowan to determine it best to leave her
ashore.[14] One
can only imagine the feelings of despair and abandonment she felt during her
time at San Juan Capistrano. She likely thought about whether or not she’d ever
again see her mother, father, and two children in Boston again. She also
probably wondered how she would tell her two children that their father was
dead. All the while, her fellow countrymen were anchored in San Juan Bay,
preparing to depart.
Ebata’s
Spanish hosts almost certainly showed her their famous hospitality. It seems
she was fed corn, beans, and veal, and was served a “fine chocolate” drink,
which was a favorite among the colonists.[15]
She was unable to speak any Spanish, and the Spanish officials mentioned that
she displayed an “arrogantly superior attitude.”[16]
Given all she had already gone through, and the many challenges that lay ahead,
it’s possible that she was dismissive to her hosts as a result of her
circumstances more than her character.
Commander Rodríguez sent his response to Corporal Osuña as soon as he could, and a relay of messengers upon horseback raced seemingly through the night to reach Mission San Juan Capistrano the next day. Not surprisingly, Rodríguez ordered Osuña to command Captain Rowan to take Mary Ebata back aboard, “even if taken like a prisoner,” and to depart from California immediately.[17] By the time the letter reached San Juan Capistrano on September 4, however, Rowan and the Hazard had sailed away. Shortly thereafter, Mary Ebata was taken to the San Diego Presidio. From San Diego, Spanish colonial authorities arranged for her to sail to the port of San Blas on the western coast of Mexico in late 1803. While there, she became so ill as to meet with a parish priest in the case that she may die. She regained her health, however, and continued on to Mexico City and then to Vera Cruz, where she took a ship to Havana in the middle of 1804.[18] She was likely able to sail all the way back to the United States of America at some time later that year. It’s a credit to the Spanish government for assisting her and paying for her passage back. Her story is nothing short of extraordinary and one can only hope that she was able to reunite with her parents and children.
Following its stop in San Juan
Bay, the Hazard sailed south to San
Diego. Commander Rodriguez again tried to get Rowan to take Mary Ebata back
aboard, but to no avail. From there, the Hazard
turned north and sailed to northern California again, possibly stopping along
the coast of Orange County en route. From northern California, the ship sailed
to the Hawaiian Islands, reaching them by December of 1803. Captain Rowan
anchored the Hazard in the port of
Waimea where he met with Kaumuali’i, the ruler of the islands of Kaua’I and
Ni’ihau. It seems Kaumuali’i’s wanted his young son, Humehume, to get an
education in America.[19]
In any case, the Hazard then made its
way back to the northwest coast and California to hunt otter. It had now been a
year since its last trip down the coast and Captain Rowan made all of the same
stops. This time, however, the Spanish authorities made it clear to every
soldier and missionary in the province not to trust any ship attempting to
anchor due to unfortunate circumstances.
On September 3, 1804, Captain
Rowan once again sailed the Hazard into
San Juan Bay. The fact that he returned suggests that he was able to obtain something of value during his visit a
year earlier, besides leaving Mary Ebata ashore. The corporal had by this time
learned a lot about the ship and reported to Commander Rodríguez at the San
Diego Presidio that it was “Captained by James Rowan, weighs 400 tons, and has
22 cannons and 60 crew members.”[20] Rowan
again requested supplies, but the corporal apparently demurred and reported to Rodríguez
that he finally “ordered four soldiers to inform the captain [Rowan] that the
supplies he requested would not be provided, and upon doing so the captain set
sail.”[21]
It’s unclear how long it took the corporal to respond to Rowan’s request because
the Hazard was in San Juan Bay until
September 5 or even a day later. The two or three days’ stay in San Juan Bay afforded
Rowan and his crew plenty of time to make otter hunts along Dana Point. There
was again ample time for occupants of the mission to take advantage of the rare
opportunity to trade for exotic goods from across the sea. Humehume, who was
only about seven years old at the time, may have watched the events that
transpired from the deck. He would go on to join the United States Marine Corps
and see action in the War of 1812 on the ship USS Wasp. From San Juan Bay, the Hazard
sailed south to Baja California before making its way to China and finally back
to Rhode Island.
By the time the Hazard departed,
San Juan Bay had become a regular stopping place for ships hunting otter or
seeking contraband trade. At some time in 1804, the ship Lelia Bird, which had the year before traded cannon fire with the
Spanish from the castillo on Point Guijarros, stopped at San Juan Bay. While
there, its captain, William Shaler, wrote the very first description of San
Juan Capistrano published in the United States:
“About thirty-five miles down the
coast [from San Pedro] stands San Juan Capistrano, close to the sea shore,
where there is safe anchorage and good landing nine months in the year. The
situation of this mission is very romantic and delightful : in a charming
valley, thickly shaded with fine trees, through which runs a fine stream of
water. I learnt few particulars respecting the mission of San Juan, but they
say it is not inferior in wealth to any in California.”[22]
His description was already the second to describe San Juan Capistrano
as “romantic,” with British explorer George Vancouver’s description of San Juan
Bay and Mission San Juan Capistrano being the first.[23]
Shaler also hinted at another reason ships would anchor in San Juan Bay; to
obtain water. By this point, any ships from the United States sailing along the
California coast knew San Juan Bay and its mission well. The frequency of ships
stopping there is enough to consider the possibility that the mission’s rich
resources were being traded for foreign goods.
The Peacock
By
the late eighteenth century, it was relatively common for sailors to join the
navies of countries other than their own. One example was a Bostonian merchant,
Joseph O’Cain, who joined the Spanish Naval Department of San Blas located on
the west coast of Mexico. He was the pilotín
habilitado, or paymaster, of the Sutil, one of two ships that had
together been sent by Spain on a scientific expedition of the Pacific Ocean
under Alejandro Malaspina in 1791-1792. He was along the coast of California in
1795 and was also one of the owners of the Betsy,
which may have sailed along the coast of Orange County in 1800. After
another trip of otter hunting as the supercargo of the Enterprise in 1801-1802, he came to understand that the otter trade
in California was severely hampered by the need to find Spanish missionaries
and soldiers willing to engage in contraband trade. As an enterprising and
ambitious seaman, O’Cain used his many monotonous hours at sea to hatch a plan.
While there were plenty of sailors in the United States who could make voyages
to the otter fields, the sailors were not skilled in hunting otter. What if,
O’Cain, wondered, he made a deal with the Russians in Alaska to provide Sun’aq
Indians from the Kodiak to do the hunting along the coast of California, and
then O’Cain and the Russians could split the spoils? In 1803, O’Cain took his
ship, creatively named the O’Cain,
and sailed to the Kodiak in Alaska where he was able to persuade the head of
the Russian American Company, Alexander Baranov, to agree to the deal. The trip
was successful, yielding a modest profit for both O’Cain and Baranov.[24]
O’Cain
returned home to Boston where he convinced his brother-in-law, Oliver Kimball,
to make a trip to California to work with him in the otter trade. O’Cain now
had three ships in his otter hunting enterprise. He captained the ship Eclipse; his friend and fellow sailor on his last journey to California,
Jonathan Winship Jr., captained the O’Cain;
and Kimball captained a smaller brig,
the Peacock, weighing 108 tons and
carrying 14-18 crew and eight guns.[25]
After departing from Boston in the fall of 1805, all three ships reached the
northern Pacific by early 1806. After rendezvousing in the Hawaiian Islands,
Winship sailed the O’Cain for Sitka
to make a deal with Baranov and the Russians to pick up Kodiak Indians to hunt
otter along the coast of California. It seems O’Cain followed suit, sailing the
Eclipse from Hawaii to Sitka to make
a similar deal. Interestingly, Kimball sailed the Peacock straight for the southern coast of California, arriving in
San Pedro Bay on March 19, 1806. While his predecessors made up reasons for
needing supplies along the coast, perhaps the Peacock really did experience trouble that prevented it from sailing
to Sitka along with the Eclipse and O’Cain.
At
San Pedro, the Peacock was either
spotted by Indians or sentries, or Kimball’s crew informed Spanish soldiers who
met them that their vessel had “a
broken mast and lack of water, wood, and meat.”[26]
In any case, the Peacock was observed
from shore sailing southward towards the outlet of the Santa Ana River, perhaps
seeking freshwater. When word reached Commander Rodríguez at the San Diego
Presidio, he took a different approach than he had taken before. After years of
dealing with illegal trade, he likely felt the need to tighten his control over
the settlements under his jurisdiction. The Spaniards and Indians living in the
missions had already given Rodríguez plenty of reasons to be suspicious of them.
On March 27, Rodríguez ordered Sergeant José Pico, the patriarch of the famous
Pico family of California, and some soldiers northward to investigate the Peacock’s presence and to prevent its
crew from hunting otter or attempting
to trade along the coast.
On
about March 29, 1806, after riding all the way from San Diego, Pico and the soldiers
reached the outlet of the Santa Ana River, near today’s Huntington Beach, but
saw no ship there.[27]
Profiting from information provided by observers along the coast, or acting on
instinct, Pico and the soldiers rode southward through today’s Costa Mesa to
see if the ship’s crew were seeking fresh water or hunting otter along the
coast at the base of the San Joaquin Hills. Their search paid off, and it was
reported that Pico and the soldiers “encountered it [the ship] in a small inlet
on the sea in a place called las Ranas.” The Spanish place name “las Ranas (the
frogs)” was used to describe the back bay of Newport Beach, because its
resident frogs could often be heard by travelers passing through.[28]
The Peacock was therefore anchored,
it seems, in today’s Newport Harbor. Given that the back bay appears as an
outlet for a major river, Kimball and the crew may have indeed been seeking
water. They could have also been hunting otter or trading for pelts from the
local Indians from the nearby village of Gengaa,
which stood along the bluffs overlooking the back bay.
In
any case, Pico and the soldiers observed the Peacock sailing south towards San Clemente and Santa Catalina
Islands on March 30. Pico figured that the Peacock
might then make its way to San Juan Bay, so he and his troops went to
Mission San Juan Capistrano and waited. After several days of keeping a close
watch of the bay, perhaps from the mission out-building now known as the Pryor
Adobe, Pico and the soldiers returned to the San Diego Presidio.[29]
As
it turned out, they just missed the Peacock.
On April 3, an Indian looking out to sea from somewhere around Dana Point,
saw the vessel sailing near the coast of San Juan Bay. He immediately went to
the mission to inform the corporal of the guard, likely José Cristóbol Domínguez.[30]
The corporal devised a plan along with the other soldiers of the guard,
possibly including Leonardo Duarte, José Lujan, and Juan Peralta, to apprehend
any crew from the vessel who landed ashore.[31] Sure enough, Kimball sent four crewmembers
on a launch in an attempt to obtain supplies. They included the vessel’s
navigator, Thomas Kilvain of Boston; the second quartermaster, a Frenchman
named Jean Pierre; and two other Bostonian crew members, spelled phonetically
by the Spanish as Blas Limcamk and Blas Yame.[32]
After landing ashore, probably upon today’s Doheney State Beach, two of
these men, likely Kilvain and Pierre, who acted as translator, made their way
toward the mission, each armed with a rifle and cartridges.[33]
When they encountered the soldiers from San Juan Capistrano, they claimed that
their ship and crew were in desperate need of supplies. The corporal and
soldiers immediately apprehended and imprisoned them at the mission, probably
in or near today’s soldiers’ barracks. The soldiers of the mission guard were
then ordered to the beach where they found the two other crew members near the
launch, who were also apprehended and imprisoned at the mission.
After
Commander Rodríguez learned that four prisoners were held at the mission, he ordered
Sergeant Pico and four soldiers on April 11 to return back to San Juan
Capistrano to escort them to the San Diego Presidio.[34]
In the meantime, six armed men from the Peacock
were observed coming ashore to retrieve the launch left behind by Kilvain
and the crew. Soon after, the Peacock sailed
away and rendezvoused at some point south with O’Cain in the Eclipse and Winship in the O’Cain. O’Cain himself did everything he
could to retrieve Kilvain and the other prisoners in San Diego, going so far as
to capture five Spanish soldiers near today’s Ensenada and releasing them only
after threatening to destroy San Diego if the prisoners weren’t freed. Soon
after, however, O’Cain himself had five crew members captured by Spanish
soldiers near San José del Cabo Bay and was unable to retrieve the prisoners in
San Diego.[35]
Governor Arrillaga later claimed that Kilvain and the prisoners “had already
been shackled, and they will be taken to San Blas.”[36]
Nothing else is known of their story.
The
story of the Peacock is an
interesting event in the history of Orange County if only because it represents
another major “first” for the county. The Peacock
is the earliest recorded vessel to anchor in today’s Newport Harbor, over
sixty years before the flat-bottomed steamer Vaquero was able to make its way into the small sandy “bay” and
setting off the chain of events that would lead to the building of McFadden’s
Landing and the beginnings of today’s Newport Beach.[37] The
Peacock should also be remembered
because three of its crew, Thomas Kilvain, “Blas Limcamk,” and “Blas Yame,” became
the second earliest known citizens of
the United States to have set foot in Orange County. Their imprisonment at
Mission San Juan Capistrano also occurred just five months before the
dedication of the Great Stone Church in September of 1806. They most certainly
looked upon the nearly completed church and the extensive mission buildings and
agricultural developments with some level of awe since the mission was at its
peak of development at the time.
The First
U.S. Americans in Orange County
The
first recorded U.S. Americans in today’s Orange County were Mary Josephine
“Ebata” of the ship Hazard in 1803, followed by Thomas Kilvain, “Blas
Limcamk,” and “Blas Yame” of the Peacock in
1806. All of them set foot in the
county during the Lewis and Clark Expedition’s famous journey to the Pacific.
Their visits at such an early date can be attributed to the geographical
situation of Orange County during a period of growing economic reliance between
the Americas and Asia. Their presence in California was the beginning of a
growing recognition within the newly formed United States of America that the
Pacific coast was rich in resources and strategically situated to access
lucrative markets. Their stories can be interpreted as the earliest momentum
that accumulated into the call of “Manifest Destiny” that prompted the United
States to seek every opportunity to extend its boundaries to the Pacific.
While
the stories of other prominent citizens from the United States in today’s
Orange County prior to 1848 are tied to the cattle hide trade, it should be
remembered that it was the otter that brought the first citizens of the United
States to the county. The otter trade, too, was fueled by a market with China, California’s
neighbor across the Pacific, foreshadowing the now-important economic reliance
California and China have on one-another via gigantic steel container ships. In
this context, the otter trade in the early 1800s and today’s trade across the
Pacific also share another important lesson. Although the otter hunters from
the United States were able to capitalize on free trade practices to gain the
upper hand in the otter trade across the Pacific, the otter themselves were
hunted to near extinction along the coast of Orange County. A somewhat
analogous story is now playing out across the Pacific. Although lucrative, today’s
trade continues to accumulate costs from externalities and complex economic
entanglements. Fortunately, the occasional otter is again making its appearance
along the coast of Orange County, perhaps serving as a symbol of hope that
solutions can be found to mitigate the emerging challenges from today’s trade
across the Pacific. If you are fortunate enough to see one, it’s worth
remembering that the otter played an important part in our history, bringing
the first citizens from the United States to what would later become Orange
County.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Chris Jepsen for editing this article and to Maria Brandt for her assistance in the research!
Bibliography
Cleland, Robert G. The
Irvine Ranch. The Huntington Library. San Marino California, 2003.
Friis, Leo J. Orange
County Through Four Centuries. Pioneer Press. Santa Ana, California, 1965.
Geiger, Maynard J. Franciscan Missionaries in Hispanic California, 1769-1848, A Biographical Dictionary. San Marino: The Huntington Library, 1969.
Gibson, James R. California through Russian Eyes, 1806-1848. The Arthur H. Clark Company, an imprint of the University of Oklahoma Press. Norman, Oklahoma, 2013.
Las Californias.
Berkeley: The Bancroft Library. Originals in the Archivo General y Público
de la Nación, Mexico City.
Miller,
Robert R. Miller, A Yankee Smuggler
on the Spanish Coast: George Washington
Eayers and the Ship Mercury. Santa Barbara Trust for Historic Preservation.
Santa Barbara, California, 2001.
Ogden, Adele. The California Sea Otter Trade,1784-1848. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1975.
Provincial State Papers (PSP). Berkeley: The Bancroft Library.
Provincial Records. Berkeley: The Bancroft Library.
Polich, J. (Spring, 1983). Joseph Burling O’Cain in Spanish California. Southern California Quarterly, 95-106.
Saddleback Ancestors: Rancho Families of
Orange County California – Revised Edition. Orange County Genealogical Society. 1998.
Shaler, W. (1808). The American Register, or General Repository of History, Politics and Science Part 1 for 1808 (Vol. 3). Philadelphia: C. & A. Conrad.
Spoehr, Anne H. (1981). George Prince Tamoree: Heir Apparent of Kauai and Niihau. Hawaiian Journal of History, 31-50.
Vancouver, George. A Voyage of Discovery to the North Pacific Ocean and
Round the World Vol. II. London: G. G. and J. Robinson, Paternoster-Row;
and J. Edwards, Pall-Mall, 1798.
[1]
Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade
1784-1848, 6.
[2]
Garland 1798
Brig 21 crew, 6 guns, captain Bazilla Worth, owners, at Boston; Left Boston in
March, 1797, and November 6 was off the coast of Northern California and by
November 16 off Todos Santos Bay. Eliza 1799
Ship 159 tons, 24-36 crew, 12 guns, Captain James Bowan. May 24, off San
Francisco and June 15, San Blas. Betsy 1800
Brigantine 104 tons 19 crew 10 guns, Captain Charles Winship, owners Abiel
Winship and Joseph O’Cain, Boston. August 24-September 4, possibly along the
coast of OC. See Ogden, California Sea
Otter Trade 1784-1848, 156-157.
[3] For
the story of the seizing of George Washington Eayers’ ship and his imprisonment
in California, see Miller, A Yankee
Smuggler on the Spanish Coast: George
Washington Eayers and the Ship Mercury.
[4]
Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade
1784-1848, 36.
[5]
Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 264.
[6]
Provincial Records XII, C-A 26, 20. Father Peyrí was the primary missionary at
Mission San Luis Rey and gave numerous indications of being progressively
minded throughout his more than thirty years at Mission San Luis Rey. It would
not be surprising if he was personally involved in trying to sell the otter
pelts in order to benefit the neophytes at his mission. See Geiger, Franciscan Missionaries in Hispanic
California, 192-196.
[7] Ogden,
California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848,
192.
[8]
José
María
Verdugo appears in the mission’s baptismal registers as late as July 5, 1802,
and no other corporal could be found listed in any of the registers through the
next year, 1803 (SJC Baptism #2127). Two of the other soldiers in the guard at
the time seem to have been Mariano Domínguez (SJC Baptism #2236) and José
María
Valenzuela (SJC Baptism #2245). Early
California Population Project, from here on identified as the ECPP.
[9]
Provincial Records XII, C-A 26, 21. “June 6…Enterado de llegada a San Juan
Capistrano de la Fragata Americana Alexander, en solicitud de viveres y
aguada.”
[10]
Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade
1784-1848, 158.
[11] Manuel
Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias,
Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[12] Manuel
Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias,
Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[13]
It’s possible that the soldier was Francisco Serrano, who was retired and then
living at the mission with his pregnant wife, María Balbaneda Silvas. Their son,
José
Antonio Serrano, was born in April of 1804. He would later be the grantee of
Rancho Cañada
de los Alisos in 1842. See SJC Baptism #2274. ECCP.
[14] Benito
Vivero y Escaño to José Yturrigaray, Interrogation of Mary Josepha Ebata.
Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[15]
Receipt for provisions. Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[16] Benito
Vivero y Escaño to José Yturrigaray, Interrogation of Mary Josepha Ebata.
Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[17] Manuel
Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 9, 1803. Las Californias,
Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099 and Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade 1784-1848, 39-41.
[18]
Las Californias, Bancroft M-A 1, Carton 2, Folder 0099.
[19]
Kaumuali’I’s wife may have also encouraged his decision to do so because she
wanted to clear the way for her son to be in a better position in the line of
succession.
[20] Rodríguez
to the Corporals of the Guards of San Miguel and Santo Tomas, September 6,
1804. Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 333.
[21] Rodríguez to Governor Arrillaga, September 8, 1804. Provincial State Papers XVIII, C-A 11, 364-365.
[22] Shaler, The American Register, 155.
[23] The
British explorer, George Vancouver, conducted an expedition of the Pacific in
the first half of the 1790s. On Tuesday, November 26, 1793, the expedition’s
ships passed San Juan Bay on their way to San Diego. Vancouver recorded that
this “mission [San
Juan Capistrano] is very pleasantly situated in a grove of trees, whose
luxuriant and diversified foliage, when contrasted with the adjacent shores,
gave it a most romantic appearance; having the ocean in front, and being
bounded on its other sides by rugged dreary mountains, where the vegetation was
not sufficient to hide the naked rocks, of which the country in this point of
view seemed to be principally composed. The buildings of the mission were
of brick and of stone, arid in their vicinity the soil appeared to be of
uncommon and striking fertility. It was founded in the year 1776, and is in
latitude 33°29',
longitude 242°35'.
The landing on the beach in the cove seemed to be good; and had it not been for
the very favorable gale with which we were now indulged, I should have been
tempted to have passed a few hours at this very enchanting place.” Vancouver,
A Voyage of Discovery, 467-468.
[24]
John Polich, Joseph Burling O’Cain in
Spanish California, 95-100.
[25]
Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade, 160.
[26]
Ogden, California Sea Otter Trade, 47.
[27]
Rodríguez to Arrillaga, April 30, 1806. Rodríguez’ comment suggests that the
course of the Santa Ana River emptied into the Pacific north of Huntington
Beach. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174.
[28]
Retired Lieutenant Juan Pablo Grijalva was living in the San Diego Presidio
when he made a petition for what later became the Rancho Santiago de Santa Ana,
stretching on the east side of the Santa Ana River from its bend to the south
near the intersection of the 55 and 91 Freeways southward “towards Santiago”
Creek and, from there, “towards the South unto ‘Ranas,’” referring to the back
bay of Newport. During that time, the back bay could stretch all the way to Red
Hill, which during the rancho era was referred to as Cerrito de las Ranas. See Saddleback Ancestors, 98 and Cleland, The Irvine Ranch, 21.
[29]
Rodríguez
to Arrillaga, April 30, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12, 174.
[30]
José
Cristóbol
Domínguez
was recorded as the corporal of the guard when he was named as godfather in a
baptism on August 18, 1807. SJC Baptism #2825. ECPP
[31]
Leonardo Duarte was recorded as being a soldier in the guard on November 30,
1805. In the same record, the soldier Jose Lujan’s wife, Francisca Herrera was
recorded as the godmother (SJC Baptism #2657). Lujan was recorded as having the
rank of alférez
(sub-lieutenant) and departing Alta California on August 5 1806. Provincial
State Paper, XIX, 121. Juan Peralta
was recorded as being a soldier in the guard on August 18, 1807 (SJC Baptism
#2825). It cannot necessarily be proven that Duarte and Peralta were both
present for the incident with the Peacock
in April of 1806. ECPP
[32]
Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. The spelling for “Thomas Kilvain” and the
identity of Jean Pierre were derived from a report by the Russian Imperial
Chamberlain Nikolay Rezanov, who obtained the information from Governor
Arrillaga during a visit to Alta California in 1806. Gibson, California Through Russian Eyes, 1806-1845, 62.
[33]
Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12,
174-175.
[34]
Rodríguez to Arrillaga, May 4, 1806. Provincial State Papers XIX, C-A 12,
174-175.
[35]
John Polich, Joseph Burling O’Cain in
Spanish California, 102.
[36] Learning that O’Cain was unsuccessful in saving the prisoners in San Diego,
Rezanov wrote that he “congratulated the governor on the happy success of his
orders, and this greatly pleased the kind old man.” Gibson, California Through Russian Eyes, 1806-1845,
62.
[37]
Friis, Orange County through Four
Centuries, 64.
Part 5: Saint Junípero Serra in Orange County
Part 7: The Great Stone Church (A future post)
Part 9: Secularization and End of the Mission Era in Capistrano (A future post)
Part 10: Richard Henry Dana at Dana Point