The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 12, No. 72, October, 1863 by Various

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In our time, politicians have the advantage of all other men in the
matter of spoils. Such was not the state of things one hundred years
ago. The politicians were as well off in those times as they are in
these,--perhaps they were bettor off, for things could then be openly
done by civilians, in the way of plundering, that the men of to-day have
to do as secretly as good Christians say their prayers. There were also
many lucrative offices then in existence which have since disappeared
under the labors of those economical reformers of whom Edmund Burke was
the first in every respect. But in 1762 military men had "rights" which
this modern world has ceased to regard as utterly as if all soldiers
were Negroes. One hundred years ago it was not an uncommon thing for a
successful general to win as much gold on a victorious field as glory.
It was the sunsetting time of the age of plunder; and the sun set very
brilliantly. The solid gains of heroes were then so great that their
mere statement in figures affects the reader's mind, and perverts his
judgment of their actions. Not quite twenty years earlier, the gallant
Anson made his famous cruise round the world; and when he took the
Manila galleon, he found in her, besides other booty, silver of the
value of a million and a half of dollars, to defend which the Spaniards
fought as men generally fight for their money. Five years before
Albemarle took the Havana, Clive took, for his own share of Surajah
Doulah's personals, over a million of dollars, from the treasury of
Moorshedabad. That was the prize of Plassey. A little later, he accepted
a present in land that must have been worth over two million of dollars,
as the annual income it yielded was twenty-seven thousand pounds, or
about one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. Other British proconsuls
were also fortunate in India. The same year that saw the English flag
flying over so much of Cuba saw another English force, commanded by Sir
William Draper, reduce the Philippine Islands, taking possession of the
whole group by virtue of a capitulation. The naval force that
accompanied Draper captured the Acapulco galleon, which had a cargo of
the value of three million dollars. The English attacked Manila without
the Spanish garrison's having had any official notification of the
existence of hostilities. The town was defended by the Archbishop, who
behaved with bravery, and showed considerable skill in war; but after
some days' fighting the English got into the town by storming it, and
then gave it up to the rough mercies of a hardened soldiery, some of
whom were Sepoys, a description of warriors of whom the English now ask
us to believe all that is abominable. Manila was most savagely treated
by heathen soldiers led by Christian chiefs, a fact to be commended to
the consideration of those humane Englishmen who can with difficulty
breathe while reading General Butler's arrangement for the maintenance
of order in New Orleans. The Archbishop and some of the officers got
into the citadel, and there they negotiated a capitulation. They agreed
to ransom their property by paying down two million dollars, and by
drawing bills for a like sum upon the Spanish treasury, which bills
Draper was green enough to accept. The Spanish Government refused to pay
the bills when they had matured, and though Draper entreated the English
Ministers to interpose in behalf of himself and his comrades, no
interposition could he induce them to make. When Sir William was so
unwise as to run a course of pointed pens with "Junius," that free
lancer, who upset men of all degrees as easily as Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe
unhorsed the knights-challengers in the lists at Ashby, brought up the
Manila business, and, with his usual hardihood, charged his antagonist
with having most dishonorably given up the ransom, and with having sold
his comrades. Sir William, who had volunteered in defence of his friend,
Lord Granby, (the same gentleman who used to figure on sign-boards, and
whose name was then as much in English mouths as General Meade's is on
American tongues to-day,) soon had to fight in his own defence, and he
made a very poor figure in the contest. In a letter from Clifton, to the
printer of the "Public Advertiser," he wrote,--"I here most solemnly
declare, that I never received either from the East India Company, or
from the Spaniards, directly or indirectly, any present or gratification
or any circumstance of emolument whatsoever, to the amount of five
shillings, during the whole course of the expedition, or afterwards, my
legal prize-money excepted. The Spaniards know that I refused the sum of
fifty thousand pounds offered me by the Archbishop, to mitigate the
terms of the ransom, and to reduce it to half a million, instead of a
whole one; so that, had I been disposed to have basely sold the partners
of my victory, Avarice herself could not have wished for a richer
opportunity." Sir William's language is valuable, as showing what sort
of prizes were then in the wheel of Fortune, with military men only to
take tickets. More than one British house of high consideration owes its
affluence to the good luck of some ancestor in the noble art of pillage.
Yet how often do we come across, in English books, denunciations of the
deeds of plunder done by the French in Spain and Portugal! Shall we ever
hear the last of Marechal Soult's Murillos? It was but yesterday that
the Koh-i-Noor was stolen by the English, and added to the crown-jewels
of Great Britain; and it was exhibited at the Crystal Palace in 1851,
where it must have been regarded as a proof of the skill of the
_Chevaliers d'Industrie_. Why it should be lawful and honorable to seize
diamonds, and unlawful and improper to seize pictures, we cannot say;
but Mr. Stirling, in his "Annals of the Artists of Spain," says, "Soult
at Seville, and Sebastiani at Granada, collected with unerring taste and
unexampled rapacity, and, having thus signalized themselves as robbers
in war, became no less eminent as picture-dealers in peace." Was it more
immoral in Marechal le Due de Dalmatie to take Murillos than it was in
Field-Marshal the Duke of Wellington to take the lead in cutting the
Koh-i-Noor, the pictures as well as the diamond being spoil of war?
There is something eminently absurd in English morality, when Englishmen
seek to lay down rules for the governance of the world. It amounts to
this: that they shall be at liberty to plunder everybody, but that all
other men shall stay their hands, no matter how great may be the
temptation, to help themselves to their enemies' goods.

The conquerors of the Havana had no scruples on the subject of plunder.
They obtained, in treasure and other property, about fourteen millions
of dollars,--a great sum, though not a third part so large as had been
assigned them by the newspapers. Not content with this, they sought to
get a donation from the citizens, to the amount of two hundred thousand
dollars; but the attempt failed, and was not persisted in, when it was
found that the Spaniards were utterly averse to giving on compulsion. A
demand was made, through Colonel Cleveland, who commanded the artillery,
"on the Bishop and the clergy, requiring an account of the bells of the
churches, convents, and monasteries of the Havana and the other towns in
the district, as well as of the _ingenios_ in the neighborhood, and of
all such metal as is used in the making of bells, in order that the
value might be adjusted, and the amount paid, according, as he asserted,
to the laws and customs of war, when a city after a siege has
surrendered by capitulation." The astonished Bishop wrote to Lord
Albemarle, and had the satisfaction of learning from that eminent
authority, that, "when a city was besieged and taken, the commander of
the artillery receives a gratification, and that Colonel Cleveland had
made the demand with his Lordship's concurrence." This mode of kissing
the rod was not at all to the taste of the worthy prelate, excellent
Christian though he was. It was bad enough to give "a gratification" to
an enemy because he had pounded them with balls until they had been
forced to surrender; but it was an aggravation of the original evil to
have to redeem "blessed bells" from the heretics who had come four
thousand miles to disturb the repose of the Spanish Indies. But
negotiation was unavoidable. What would the Colonel take, and close the
transaction? The Colonel said he would take such a sum as the captured
churches could reasonably contribute to his purse. He was offered one
thousand dollars; but that he treated as a mistake, and to assist the
reverend and venerable negotiators to a conclusion, he named thirty
thousand dollars. To this they objected, and appealed to Lord Albemarle
against the demand of his officer. His Lordship, with his pockets
crammed with Spanish gold, was disposed to act handsomely in this
instance, and cut down the Colonel's bill to ten thousand dollars. But
even this sum the clergy professed themselves utterly unable to pay.
According to their own showing, they were genuine successors of the
Apostles, being without a penny in their purses. They began to beg for
aid; but, either because the Spaniards were sulky with the Saints for
having allowed the heretics to succeed, or that they did not wish to
attract the attention of those heretics to their property, the begging
business did not pay. Only one hundred and three dollars could be
collected. This failure was made known to Lord Albemarle, but he kept a
profound silence, sending no reply to the clergy's plaintive
communication. They, however, had not long to wait for an answer.
Colonel Cleveland waited upon them again, and said, that, as the cash
was not forthcoming, he should content himself with taking the bells,
all of which must be taken down, and delivered to him on the 4th of
September. After this there was no further room for negotiation with a
gentleman who commanded great guns. The Bishop handed over the ten
thousand dollars, and the Colonel departed from his presence. The bells
remained in their proper places, and some of them, no doubt, remain
there to this day, the bell being long-lived, and making sweet music
years after Albemarle, Cleveland, and the rest of the spoilmen have gone
to their account.

Lord Albemarle had a correspondence with the Bishop respecting the use
of one of the churches as a place of Protestant worship, and laid down
the cannon law so strongly and clearly, that the prelate, after making
such resistance as circumstances admitted of,--and he would not have
been a good Catholic, if he had done less,--told him to take whichever
church he chose; and he took that of the Franciscans. His Lordship,
however, was much more devoted to the worship of Mammon than to the
worship of God, and, accordingly, on the 19th of October, he wrote to
the Bishop concerning the donation-dodge, in the following polite and
peremptory terms;--"Most Illustrious Sir, I am sorry to be under the
necessity of writing to your Lordship what ought to have been thought of
some days ago, namely, a donation from the Church to the
Commander-in-Chief of the victorious army. The least that your Lordship
can offer will be one hundred thousand dollars. I wish to live in peace
with your Lordship and with the Church, as I have shown in all that has
hitherto occurred, and I hope that your Lordship will not give me reason
to alter my intentions. I kiss your Lordship's hand. Your humble
servant, Albemarle." The Bishop, though a clever and clear-sighted man,
could not see this matter in the light in which Lord Albemarle looked
upon it. He thought the demand a violation of the terms of surrender;
and he sought the mediation of Admiral Pocock, but without strengthening
his position. To a demand for the list of benefices, coupled with the
declaration that non-compliance would lead to the Bishop's being
proclaimed a violator of the treaty, the prelate replied, that he would
refer the matter, and some others, to the courts of Spain and England.
Upon this the British General lost all patience, and issued a
proclamation, declaring "that the conduct of the Bishop was seditious;
that he had forgotten that he was now a subject of Great Britain; and
that it was absolutely necessary he should be expelled from the island,
and sent to Florida in one of the British ships of war, in order that
public tranquillity might be maintained, and that good correspondence
and harmony might continue between the new and the old subjects of the
King, which the conduct of the Bishop had visibly interrupted." The
whole of this business presents the English commander in a most
contemptible light. Not content with the six hundred thousand dollars
which he had already pocketed, as his share of the spoil, he assumed the
part of Bull Beggar toward the Bishop, in the hope that he might extort
one hundred thousand dollars more from the Church, for his own personal
benefit, for the "donation" was not to go into the common stock; and
when his threats failed, he turned tyrant at the expense of a venerable
officer of the most ancient of Christian churches. What an outcry would
be raised in England, if an American commander were to make a similar
display of avarice and cruelty!

The manner in which the spoil was divided among the conquerors caused
much ill-feeling, and not unnaturally. Lord Albemarle took to himself
L122,697 10_s._ 6_d._, and an equal amount was bestowed upon Admiral
Pocock. Lieutenant-General Elliot and Commodore Keppel had L24,539
10_s._ 1_d._ each. To a major-general was given L6,816 10_s._ 6-1/2_d._
and to a brigadier-general L1,947 11_s._ 7_d._ A captain in the navy had
L1,600 10_s._ 10_d._, and an army-captain, L184 4_s._ 7-1/4_d._ And so
the sums went on decreasing, until there were paid to the private
soldier, L4 1_s._ 8-1/2_d._, and to the ordinary seaman L3 14_s._
9-3/4_d._ The profit as well as the honor of the expedition all went to
the leaders. What made the matter worse was, that the distribution was
made in violation of rules, which were not formed to favor "the common
file," but which would have done them more justice than they received at
the hands of Pocock and Albemarle. After all, no worse was done than
what we see daily happen in the world, and the distribution appears to
be a practical satire on the ordinary course of human life.

Lord Albemarle was severely censured in England for his manner of
assailing the Havana, it being held that he should have attacked the
town, which was in an almost defenceless condition, whereas the Morro
was strong, and made a good defence, which might have led to the failure
of the expedition, and would have done so but for the circumstance that
no hurricane happened. But the general public was satisfied with the
victory, and did not trouble itself much about the manner in which it
had been gained. It was right. Had General McClellan taken Richmond, how
many of us would have listened to the military critics who should have
been so kind as to show us how he ought to have taken it? Judging from
some observations in Horace Walpole's "Correspondence," the English,
though surfeited with victory, were much pleased with their Cuban
conquest. Sir Joseph Yorke, writing on the 9th of October, ten days
after the news had reached England, says,--"All the world is struck with
the noble capture of the Havana, which fell into our hands on the Prince
of Wales's birthday, as a just punishment upon the Spaniards for their
unjust quarrel with us, and for the supposed difficulties they have
raised in the negotiations for peace." Those negotiations had been
openly commenced in less than a month after the fall of the Havana, and
some weeks before news of that brilliant event had reached Europe. The
terms of the treaty of peace were speedily settled, one of the
stipulations being, that Spain should preserve her old limits; and,
"moreover," says Earl Stanhope, "it was agreed that any conquests that
might meanwhile have been made by any of the parties in any quarter of
the globe, but which were not yet known, (words comprising at that
period of the negotiation both the Havana and the Philippines,) should
be restored without compensation." Had the preliminary articles been
signed at once, the Spaniards would have recovered all they had lost in
Cuba, without further trouble or cost; but their negotiator, the
celebrated Grimaldi, was so confident that the invaders of Cuba would be
beaten, that he played the waiting game, and was beaten himself. When
intelligence of English success arrived at Paris, where the treaty was
making, Grimaldi was suddenly found as ready to sign as formerly he had
been backward; but now the English negotiator, the Duke of Bedford,
became backward in his turn, as representing the unwillingness of his
Government to give up the Havana without an equivalent. Lord Bute would
have given up the conquest without a word said, but all his colleagues
were not so blind to the advantages which that conquest had placed at
the command of England; and finally it was agreed that the Duke of
Bedford should demand the cession of Florida or Porto Rico as the price
of the restoration of that portion of Cuba which was in English hands.
The Spaniards gladly complied with the British demand, and gave Florida
in exchange for Cuba. At one time it was supposed that the victory of
Albemarle and Pocock would lead to the continuance of the war. Horace
Walpole wrote to his friend Conway that the Havana was more likely to
break off the peace than to advance it, and that the English were not in
a humor to give up the world, but were much more disposed to conquer the
rest of it. He added, "We shall have some cannonading here, I believe,
if we sign the peace." But the King and the Premier were
peace-at-any-price men, and the way to their purpose was smoothed
completely; yet Lord Bute wrote to the Duke of Bedford, on the 24th of
October, "Such is the change made here by the conquest of the Havana,
that I solemnly declare, I don't meet with one man, let his attachment
be never so strong to the service of the King, his wishes for peace
never so great, that does not positively affirm, this rich acquisition
must not be ceded without satisfaction in the fishery, and some material
compensation: this is so much the opinion of all the King's servants,
that the greatest care has been taken to soften every expression," etc.
In July, 1763, the English restored their acquisitions in Cuba to the
Spaniards, and their soldiers returned to Europe.

In a few years it was seen that the Bute arrangement, so far as
concerned the Havana, was, for England, thoroughly a Glaucian bargain.
She had obtained Florida, which was of no worth to her, and she had
given up the Havana, which might have been made one of her most useful
acquisitions. That place became the chief American port of the great
alliance that was formed against England after she had become committed
to war with the new United States. Great fleets and armies were there
assembled, which did the English much mischief. Florida was reconquered
by an expedition from the Havana, and another expedition was successful
in an attack on Nassau; and Jamaica was threatened. Had England not
given up the place to the Spaniards, not only would these things have
been impossible, but she might have employed it with effect in her own
military operations, and have maintained her ascendency in the
West-Indian seas. Or, if she had preferred that course, she might have
made it the price of Spain's neutrality during the American War,
returning it to her on condition that she should not assist the United
States; and as the Family Compact then existed in all its force, Spain's
influence might have been found sufficiently powerful to prevent France
from giving that assistance to our fathers which undoubtedly secured
their independence. All subsequent history has been deeply colored by
the surrender of the Havana in 1763. But for that, Washington and his
associates might have failed. But for that, the French Revolution might
have been postponed, as that Revolution was precipitated through the
existence of financial difficulties which were largely owing to the part
France took in the war that ended in the establishment of our
nationality. But for that, England might have secured and consolidated
her American dominion, and the House of Hanover at this moment have been
ruling over the present United States and Confederate States. George
III, and Lord Bute could not foresee any of these things, and they
cannot be censured because they were blind to what was invisible to all
men; but their reckless desire for peace led them to regret the
successes of the English arms, and they were ready to make any
sacrifices that could be named, not because they loved peace for itself,
but because, while the war should last, it would not be possible for the
monarch to follow his mother's advice to "be a king" in fact as well as
in name,--advice that was destined to cost the King much, and his realm
far more.

* * * * *

EQUINOCTIAL.

The Sun of Life has crossed the line:
The summer-shine of lengthened light
Faded and failed,--till, where I stand,
'Tis equal Day and equal Night.

One after one, as dwindling hours,
Youth's glowing hopes have dropped away,
And soon may barely leave the gleam
That coldly scores a winter's day.

I am not young, I am not old;
The flush of morn, the sunset calm,
Paling, and deepening, each to each,
Meet midway with a solemn charm.

One side I see the summer fields
Not yet disrobed of all their green;
While westerly, along the hills,
Flame the first tints of frosty sheen.

Ah, middle-point, where cloud and storm
Make battle-ground of this my life!
Where, even-matched, the Night and Day
Wage round me their September strife!

I bow me to the threatening gale:
I know, when that is overpast,
Among the peaceful harvest-days,
An Indian-summer comes at last!

* * * * *

THE LEGEND OF MONTE DEL DIABLO.

The cautious reader will detect a lack of authenticity in the following
pages, I am not a cautious reader myself, yet I confess with some
concern to the absence of much documentary evidence in support of the
singular incident I am about to relate. Disjointed memoranda, the
proceedings of _ayuntamientos_ and early departmental _juntas_, with
other records of a primitive and superstitious people, have been my
inadequate authorities. It is but just to state, however, that, though
this particular story lacks corroboration, in ransacking the Spanish
archives of Upper California I have met with many more surprising and
incredible stories, attested and supported to a degree that would have
placed this legend beyond a cavil or doubt. I have, also, never lost
faith in the legend myself, and in so doing have profited much from the
examples of divers grant-claimants, who have often jostled me in their
more practical researches, and who have my sincere sympathy at the
skepticism of a modern hard-headed and practical world.

For many years after Father Junipero Serro first rang his bell in the
wilderness of Upper California, the spirit which animated that
adventurous priest did not wane. The conversion of the heathen went on
rapidly in the establishment of Missions throughout the land. So
sedulously did the good Fathers set about their work, that around their
isolated chapels there presently arose _adobe_ huts, whose mud-plastered
and savage tenants partook regularly of the provisions, and occasionally
of the Sacrament, of their pious hosts. Nay, so great was their process,
that one zealous Padre is reported to have administered the Lord's
Supper one Sabbath morning to "over three hundred heathen Salvages." It
was not to be wondered that the Enemy of Souls, being greatly incensed
thereat, and alarmed at his decreasing popularity, should have
grievously tempted and embarrassed these Holy Fathers, as we shall
presently see.

Yet they were happy, peaceful days for California. The vagrant keels of
prying Commerce had not, as yet, ruffled the lordly gravity of her bays.
No torn and ragged gulch betrayed the suspicion of golden treasure. The
wild oats drooped idly in the morning heat, or wrestled with the
afternoon breezes. Deer and antelope dotted the plain. The water-courses
brawled in their familiar channels, nor dreamed of ever shifting their
regular tide. The wonders of the Yo-Semite and Calaveras were as yet
unrecorded. The Holy Fathers noted little of the landscape beyond the
barbaric prodigality with which the quick soil repaid the sowing. A new
conversion, the advent of a Saint's day, or the baptism of an Indian
baby, was at once the chronicle and marvel of their day.

At this blissful epoch, there lived, at the Mission of San Pablo, Father
Jose Antonio Haro, a worthy brother of the Society of Jesus. He was of
tall and cadaverous aspect. A somewhat romantic history had given a
poetic interest to his lugubrious visage. While a youth, pursuing his
studies at famous Salamanca, he had become enamored of the charms of
Dona Carmen de Torrencevara, as that lady passed to her matutinal
devotions. Untoward circumstances, hastened, perhaps, by a wealthier
suitor, brought this amour to a disastrous issue; and Father Jose
entered a monastery, taking upon himself the vows of celibacy. It was
here that his natural fervor and poetic enthusiasm conceived expression
as a missionary. A longing to convert the uncivilized heathen succeeded
his frivolous earthly passion, and a desire to explore and develop
unknown fastnesses continually possessed him. In his flashing eye and
sombre exterior was detected a singular commingling of the discreet Las
Casas and the impetuous Balboa.

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