From Highlands to Homecoming by Margaret P.

(With thanks to my betas Terri Derr and Anna Orr)

Chapter 10: Letters to Catherine (Words: 2,672)

My Dearest Catherine,

We arrived safely in New York last night.

The Mary Ann manoeuvred into a mooring between a frigate and a barque at dusk. The voyage from Boston had been uneventful except for the splitting headache, which reminded Murdoch relentlessly of the night before.

"I will never drink that much again!" he assured an amused Alfred Burke as they retired to their cabin.

Our accommodation on the 'Mary Ann' is definitely a step up from steerage on the 'Duchess of Argyle', but it still took some ingenuity to sleep comfortably in my bunk. I felt a bit like a concertina. Unfortunately Burke snores—loudly, but I did eventually fall asleep.

We have no time to go any further afield than the dockyards this morning, but we will stretch our legs ashore while more passengers board. Burke wants to find a boy to deliver some business letters.

The clipper was devoted mainly to cargo, but there were a small number of cabins for passengers. When the Mary Ann set sail shortly after 10 o'clock, all twelve berths were occupied. Passengers could socialise in a communal area below decks, and Murdoch soon got to know most of his companions. The majority were heading for South America, but Spaniards, Señor and Señora Alvarez, were returning to Los Angeles in California. Although Murdoch's Spanish was limited, he tried hard to converse with them.

Señor Alvarez is some sort of government official. I had hoped he and his wife would tell me more about California, but they are not very friendly. Burke speaks Spanish well, and he says they do not like Americans or Scotsmen. I can only hope that is not the prevailing attitude in my new homeland.

The clipper made fast passage, but still ocean-weary from his trans-Atlantic trip, the voyage held little attraction for Murdoch. He practised his Spanish, wrote to Catherine and his family, and read. Catherine had lent him the book of short stories, she had recommended at their first meeting at the Athenaeum.

You were right; I did enjoy 'Rip Van Winkle'.

Burke proved to be something of an artist. He set up an easel on the main deck and painted with water colours. "I'll give you one of my seascapes if you proceed with the purchase."

"Muchas gracias," replied Murdoch. "Quiero pintar mi pared."

"You want to paint your wall?" Burke lowered his brush from the canvas and thought for a moment. "I think you mean 'Me gustaria una pintura de la pared'. You want a painting for your wall."

Murdoch shook his head and laughed. "Well, I got one word right."

He checked the index of A Compendium of the Spanish Language and began to study the pages related to mealtime conversation.

This evening we dined with the captain and three other passengers, Mr and Mrs Ballantyne and their daughter, Lavinia. The Ballantynes are sailing to Rio de Janeiro. Mr Ballantyne is an engineer, and he is going to help with the construction of a new bridge. I found him very interesting, but unfortunately I did not enjoy Miss Ballantyne quite so much. She is a rather tiresome girl of fifteen, and she interrupted my conversation with her father several times for no apparent reason.

"The iron has been hot blasted in Shropshire and shipped out for the purpose." Richard Ballantyne explained his latest project to Murdoch with enthusiasm. He was in his mid-forties with long sideburns that joined to his moustache. A Scotsman like Murdoch, he had not lived in Britain for many years. Instead he travelled the world building the bridges that were his passion.

Murdoch found the details of bridge building fascinating. "Indeed, sir, and it will be the first bridge of its kind in Brazil?"

Ballantyne was about to answer when his daughter addressed him from the opposite side of the table. "If I am to endure such an uncivilised city as Rio for your benefit, Papa, you should buy me a lapdog to keep me company. Mama agrees. A little pug would be divine. Mr Lancer, you must have seen pugs on your travels. Don't you just adore their little squashed faces?"

Murdoch kept his reply to Miss Ballantyne as short as politeness allowed. He tried to steer the conversation back to bridges and other things of more interest to him than pampered pets, but Miss Ballantyne persisted. She seemed determined to be the centre of attention throughout the entire evening.

A few days later, the Mary Ann experienced rough seas. The passengers were confined below decks as the vessel rolled with the waves.

For all the misery of steerage on the 'Duchess', I never had to hold the bowl while a spoilt young lady emptied her last meal into it. How I got into such a predicament, I still do not know. One minute I was walking past the family and the next, Ballantyne was thrusting the bowl into my arms, declaring he had to attend to an urgent matter. Her mother held her hair back and I was obliged to hold the bowl—for over an hour. At first I naively expected her father to return, but the truth eventually dawned. I only escaped when Miss Ballantyne ran dry. It was not funny, so don't you dare laugh!

Worse was yet to come, though Murdoch chose not to write about it to Catherine. After the bowl experience, Miss Ballantyne latched onto Murdoch like he was her own personal knight in shining armour. Wherever he went, she would appear. Whatever he said, she would sigh and gaze at him doe-eyed. Burke and her father thought it was hilarious. Murdoch could not wait to reach Chagres and be rid of her.

A small pod of dolphins joined the 'Mary Ann' as we approached the Isthmus of Panama. They dived below the hull, appearing starboard and aft, racing each other and us into harbour. One animal rose up on its tail above the water, bidding the ship farewell in a high-pitched bark. I have read stories about dolphins rescuing shipwrecked seamen. Now I have witnessed their antics, I believe those tales. They really are the most amazing creatures.

Chagres was a small port on the Isthmus of Panama comprising only a few buildings of a purely serviceable nature. Bidding farewell to the Ballantynes and most of their fellow passengers, Murdoch and Burke took a room for the night at the tavern. Their journey by river boat and mule the next day would begin from outside its doors. Before turning in for the night, Murdoch delivered his first letters into the care of the captain of the Liberty. The barque had followed the Mary Ann into the bay, and it would be sailing northward to Boston on the morning tide.

Six travellers began the four day crossing of the isthmus with their guides soon after dawn: the Castilians from California, two Peruvian gentlemen, Burke and Murdoch.

How wonderful and how terrible the journey turned out to be. Mosquitoes plagued us from the start. No matter how hard I tried to cover up, they still found their way to my skin. Strangely, though, our guides didn't seem to get bitten at all.

"Fresh blood," declared Burke knowledgably, slapping an insect that dared to dine on his cheek. A smear of blood marked the spot. "I've made this crossing several times, and it's always the same. They go for the visitors and leave the locals largely alone."

The group took cayucas as far as Cruces, and then mounted mules to follow the old Spanish trail to Panama. They made slow progress as the road had fallen into disrepair.

Clay once covered the river stones, but that has long since worn away leaving them exposed. Even the most sure-footed of our mules found them difficult to navigate. Mules also proved inconveniently low to the ground for a man of my stature. I walked whenever practical.

The heat was oppressive. Even when they were being poled up river, there was no respite. The waterway was too full of dangers to risk dangling feet or hands into its coolness. Alligators and snakes slithered through the murky shallows and disappeared to suddenly reappear in deep water, often with lethal results for some poor fish or bird.

Murdoch wrote less about the dangers, however, than the beauty in his letters to Catherine.

Despite the discomfort there was much to enjoy. I have never seen such jungle, the lushness of the trees and flowers, the variety of insects and birds. Our trail traversed ravines and waterways. I saw beasts that I have only ever seen in books before.

Within a few days of their arrival in Panama, the Artemis gave Murdoch and Burke direct passage to Monterey. Señor and Señora Alvarez remained behind as the brig's captain refused to put in at Los Angeles just for their benefit. Though for different reasons, Murdoch was as pleased to part with their company as he had been to say goodbye to Miss Ballantyne.

The Señora walked about as though she had a permanent bad smell beneath her nose. I think it was me. For some reason she seemed to despise me even more than Burke. I am certain she understood a little English, but she never deigned to speak it. Her husband would occasionally say something to us in Spanish, but she would only ever whisper to him from behind her fan. No doubt Los Angeles is a pleasant place, but she has made me glad that I am heading further north.

Murdoch discovered the Artemis's captain had sailed the Pacific coast for more than ten years, and he knew a lot about Californian ports and commerce. He confirmed what Murdoch had learned from his research; vessels still had to pay duties at Monterey before plying their trade along the coast of California.

"I have read as much as I can about this part of the world, Captain, and Mexico seems determined to limit trade through high tariffs."

"There are ways around the rules," Captain Jessop assured him as he watched a sailor trim the mainsail. "Don't you worry, Mr Lancer, the likes of the Hudson Bay Company and several Boston-based firms make healthy profits. There is a definite market for cattle."

The Artemis was scheduled to stay four days in Monterey to sell goods brought from America and pay its duties. Then the brig would continue north to Yerba Buena in the San Francisco Bay to fill its hull with hides and tallow.

Burke sketches and paints his way up the Pacific coast, and patiently teaches me Spanish at the same time. His conversational Spanish is excellent due to his many visits to California. My Spanish improves slowly. I can tell you it is a lot easier learning from Burke than from some dry texts with only my schoolboy Latin to help me. Still, I worry I will struggle to make myself understood after we part company. I must take every opportunity to practise when we make shore.

The Artemis finally dropped anchor in Monterey harbour mid-afternoon on June 11, 1842. Within the hour Murdoch stepped onto the wooded shore.

California at last! I will forever celebrate this day as the beginning of my new life.

Burke took me directly to the home of Herman Richter, a surveyor, who acts as agent for G.W. Burke and Sons. His house is like others in the town, a neat whitewashed adobe cottage with a red-tiled roof. It lies within sight of the Presidio.

The Presidio is a small square fort with the Mexican flag flying from a pole at its heart. It is the centre of activity for the town. Soldiers and officials regularly come and go, and thanks to their convenient location, the Richters are among the first to learn of any new arrival.

Herman Richter was not at home when the travellers knocked on the door, but his Mexican wife, made them welcome. She greeted Burke like a long lost brother and showed her guests to a comfortable room overlooking the bay. She sent one of the children to find her husband. By the time the two men had freshened up, Richter was settling himself into a chair under a nearby tree and pouring out drinks.

Richter had passed through the Estancia Talavera only five weeks before on his way to an on-going job further north.

A new settler, John Sutter, is establishing a trading post, and he has employed Richter to survey land recently granted by the Mexican government. That is interesting as Sutter has apparently only resided in California for two years and he has only been a citizen for one. What Richter tells me of the Estancia Talavera, however, is of more immediate concern. He says there are about a dozen vaqueros remaining with their families, and they take basic care of the hacienda and surrounding fields and cattle.

The Mexican and Indian workforce, however, did not in Richter's estimation exert themselves to any high degree of effort. "It would not surprise me if most were not being paid. They probably do a little work in exchange for being allowed to remain in their homes, but a new owner will need to attend to a lot of deferred maintenance."

While even a big ranch could survive during winter with a small workforce, Murdoch knew it needed many more workers and effective leadership to run efficiently between spring and fall. The Estancia Talavera had been rudderless for over eighteen months.

"The headman speaks only a little English, but he has been at the ranch for many years. He is loyal and hardworking, I am sure he will cooperate with a new owner."

Although there was no guarantee Murdoch would ultimately buy the San Joaquin estate, he had decided during the voyage that he was committed to remaining in California, and it would make sense for him to apply for Mexican citizenship while still in Monterey. Two days after his arrival therefore, he swore allegiance to the Mexican flag.

Once I produced my certificate of Catholic baptism, I was welcomed. The governor-general took my oath without hesitation. Citizenship is a means to an end, but I will abide by the laws of this land and defend its shores while this government defends the rights of those it governs. My citizenship still needs to be endorsed by central government to be absolute and that will not happen overnight, but what I have done today permits me to buy land in California.

That afternoon Burke and Richter had other business, so Murdoch ventured out on his own to complete the preparations they had begun together the day before. Richter had acquired horses for them, but they still needed supplies. Following the surveyor's directions those were soon purchased, and Murdoch spent the rest of his time exploring the town. Shouting, screeching and the flapping of wings drew his attention to a small crowd.

I had heard cockfighting was a popular pastime in California. Two roosters tearing each other apart is not really my idea of entertainment, but to be sociable I pretended more enthusiasm than I felt. Betting was fierce and the battles bloody. I lost a few real to the locals but was rewarded after the fighting with an invitation to join them at the cantina. I was able to practise my Spanish, and my new amigos introduced me to the local drink, tequila. Powerful stuff and not unpleasant, but I'll stick with beer and whiskey if given the choice.

Soon after dawn the next day, Murdoch and Burke rode towards the San Joaquin Valley. The journey to the Estancia Talavera was expected to take about three days. Trying hard to keep his excitement and hope under control, he left behind letters, which Richter promised to deliver into the hands of the next captain sailing for Boston. Murdoch concluded his epistle to Catherine minutes before he and Burke mounted their horses.

Si Dios quiere el viaje me llevará a casa.

All my love

Murdoch

Notes:

1. Monterey was the centre of government in California under Mexican rule.

2. 'Si Dios quiere el viaje me llevará a casa' means 'God willing this journey will take me home'.