Englishman who sought Mexican citizenship helped establish early San Francisco

In the next 24 hours, the 26-year-old sailor would reinvent his life and begin a series of extraordinary adventures that would lead him to establish the trading post of Yerba Buena, make and lose a fortune, and cross paths with many of the important figures of his time. His story, as recounted in Robert Ryal Miller’s “Captain Richardson: Mariner, Rancher, and Founder of San Francisco,” illuminates not just the story of one remarkable man who carved out a rich life on the far frontier of civilization, but the Mexican and early American era in California. Richardson’s story is a fairy tale that actually happened — a fitting creation story for the city that would one day be dubbed Baghdad-by-the-Bay.

As Richardson jumped off the boat on the sandy beach, a beautiful 19-year-old woman was watching him. She said to her girlfriends, “Oh, what a handsome man that foreigner is who just got off the boat! He will be my bridegroom and I will be his wife.”

A squad of soldiers escorted Richardson to the crumbling Presidio, where he was greeted warmly by its comandante, Don Ignacio Martinez. Martinez agreed to provide supplies and invited Richardson to a fiesta he was having that very night. Martinez introduced Richardson to his fellow guests, a group of officers and their wives, and began pouring aguardiente, a fiery Mexican brandy. A small band began playing, and the guests danced the jota, the jarabe and other Spanish dances. Richardson, tall and slender and nattily attired in a braided officer’s coat, nankeen trousers and gleaming black boots, did an Irish jig. He soon found himself dancing with the flashing-eyed, black-haired young woman who had been watching as he got off the boat — who happened to be Don Ignacio’s eldest daughter, Maria Antonia Martinez. The dancing and partying lasted until dawn, after which Richardson made his way back to the ship.

Capt. Barney was enraged that his first mate had left the ship anchored in rough waters, and perhaps irritated that he had not been invited to the fandango. He severely chastised Richardson. What happened next is unclear: Richardson was either discharged, or, more likely, jumped ship. He returned to the Presidio and explained his situation to Don Ignacio, who invited the young sailor to stay at his house, either until another ship arrived or until he got permission to remain in California should he decide to stay. Richardson, who was as smitten with Maria Antonia as she was with him, almost immediately decided to stay.

Martinez told Richardson that he needed to go to Monterey, the capital of the Mexican province of Alta California, and petition the governor for permission to remain, as required of all foreigners. Richardson rode along El Camino Real (the royal road or King’s Highway) and west to Monterey, where he presented his petition to Gov. Pablo Vicente de Solá. Solá granted him permission, on condition that he teach the Californians navigation and carpentry, another skill the Englishman possessed.

Richardson and Maria Antonia had received the blessings of Don Ignacio and his wife, Doña Martina Arellano. But in order to marry (as well as to become a naturalized citizen of Mexico, which would entitle him to receive a land grant), Richardson had to become a Catholic. Accordingly, after returning to the Presidio, Richardson began riding regularly along the old Spanish trail to Mission Dolores (which traces Lover’s Lane in the Presidio, and then follows the contemporary bicycle route now known as “the Wiggle”) to receive religious instruction from the Franciscan fathers. In June 1823, 10 months after he jumped ship, Richardson was baptized in Mission Dolores. Two years later, in May 1825, he and Maria Antonia were married in the adobe church. The young woman’s love-at-first-sight prediction had come true.

It was to prove a happy union. As Miller writes, “The English-born groom brought to the provincial Martinez family a breadth of experience and accomplishment, a genial disposition, and a strong sense of humor.” For her part, Maria Antonia was described by American trader William Heath Davis as “a model of grace and dignity with a face full of expression. Doña Maria Antonia was truly entitled to be called a Spanish beauty. She was gifted with vivacity and intelligence, and a little spice of satire gave an added charm to her winning manners.”

The young couple honeymooned at a sheltered cove in Sausalito, whose charms Richardson had discovered while exploring the bay in a 15-ton sloop, El Rey del Mar, that he had purchased from a padre at Mission Santa Clara.

The resourceful Richardson turned out to be a born entrepreneur. He used El Rey del Mar to transport goods to the mission, and began trading with and acting as a pilot for the foreign ships that visited the bay. In 1827, he petitioned the governor to grant him a rancho in Sausalito, and also applied to be naturalized as a Mexican citizen. But he realized that applying in person would be more effective, and life at the Presidio was becoming less attractive: The troops had not been paid in 12 years and were in an ugly mood. When Richardson’s father-in-law, Lt. Martinez, was temporarily ousted as comandante after his troops joined a military uprising, the Englishman decided to move his family to the south.

In late 1829, Richardson, Maria Antonia and their two young children sailed to San Pedro (now part of Los Angeles), then made their way overland to Mission San Gabriel, near Los Angeles, where the family was to live for five years. It was there that Richardson made the connections that led to his becoming the captain of the port of San Francisco at a little cove called Yerba Buena, and its first non-Indian inhabitant. That story, and the wild ups and downs of Richardson’s later life, will be the subject of the next Portals.