Santa Cruz County History
HISTORY OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY, CALIFORNIA.- E. S. Harrison, Pacific Press Publ. Co., San Francisco, 1891
CHAPTER I.
THE EARLY HISTORY OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY:
THE history of Santa Cruz County, properly speaking, began with the admission of the State into the Union and the formation of the county. But the history of Santa Cruz antedates the organization of the county, and the history of this locality, in common with much of the history of the Pacific Coast territory, antedates the arrival of the Franciscan priests, and subsequent establishment of the missions.
When Pizarro invaded the domain of the Incas, when Ponce de Leon sought for the spring of eternal youth and Cortez conquered the Montezumas—we have unmistakable historical evidence of an aboriginal civilization on this coast, possibly as old as the temple of Solomon or the pyramid of Gizah. In Mexico, in Arizona, and in some parts of California, are to be found to-day stone monuments and ruins of cliff dwellings upon which are inscriptions and symbols so strikingly similar to work done in the very remote past by some of our Aryan ancestors as to suggest a common origin.
This field of investigation is too wide and too profound to permit of discussion here, but it is a fitting introductory to these chapters to note that before the discovery of this country by the Europeans, and the earnest efforts at civilizing and Christianizing the wild and semi-barbarous tribes by the pious padres from Spain, perhaps many ages, many hundreds of years, before this time, there was on this continent a civilization different in character from that which we now enjoy, yet possessing many characteristics of a high order.
Without referring to the evidences of culture to be found in the ruins of edifices, in the traces of grand systems of irrigation, and in a knowledge of the symbology through which ancient mysteries have been perpetuated, it is proper to remark that the Indians of California had a legend, perhaps many centuries old, of white men who had come from across the water and shown such superior wisdom that they had deified them. A history said to be now in existence in India, narrates an account of how, in the fourth century, several Buddhist monks had found a land far to the eastward inhabited by a race of wild people whom they had instructed in the doctrine of the lord Buddha.
So considering the inscriptions of the Aztecs, and legends of the California Indians and the history of the Buddhists, leads one to believe that the daring Spanish navigator Cabrillo was not the first civilized person to view the shores of this modern Arcadia.
But there is no necessity of following this line of thought, and becoming lost in the maze of speculation. Whether or not this country was discovered by people from the Orient, this fact is well known and susceptible of proof, there was a civilization on the western shores of this continent which antedates its discovery by the Europeans.
History does not go back further than the year 1542, at which time Juan Roderiquez Cabrillo made a voyage of exploration along this coast. This was only fifty years subsequent to the discovery of America by Columbus. Thirty-six years later Sir Francis Drake made a voyage, covering about the same course that Cabrillo had sailed over. From the records it appears that this country from 1542 until 1602 was seen by but three white men, or, rather, the commanders and crew of three vessels. The Bay of Monterey was discovered December 16, 1602, by Don Sebastian Vizcaino. The object of his voyage on the Pacific Coast at that time was to find some port where vessels bound from the Philippine Islands to Acapulco could put in for wood and water and other necessaries which might be supplied by the place.
Vizcaino, who was sailing under instructions from King Philip III, of Spain, anchored in the bay, and, landing with two priests and a body of soldiers, took possession of the country for the king. A cross was erected under an oak tree, where was celebrated the first mass in the land now known as California. The place and bay were named Monterey, in honor of the viceroy of Mexico, Gaspar de Zuniga, the Count of Monterey, the projector and patron of the expedition. Vizcaino remained here until January 3, 1603.
After his departure the silence in the history of this country remained unbroken for a period of one hundred and sixty-seven years. In 1768 Father Junipero Serra, in charge of a band of Franciscan friars, was in Lower California, planning for the civilizing of the Indians of this country and the establishment of missions at various places along the coast. Vizcaino's description of the Bay of Monterey was so glowing that the priests were fired with a desire to see it and establish a mission here. In consequence of this a land expedition was fitted out from San Diego, April 14, 1769, the objective point being the Bay of Monterey. This is known as the Portola expedition, and was composed of the first white men to make a trip overland along the California coast. The minutest particulars of this trip have been preserved through the diary of Father Crespi. The expedition was under the command of Governor Portola, and was composed of Captain Rivera "and twenty-seven soldiers with leathern jackets; Lieutenant J. Fages, with seven volunteers of Catalonia; Engineer Constanzio and fifteen Christian Indians from Lower California."
Fathers Crespi and Gomez accompanied them, the former of whom kept the diary of their travels. The entire journal of Father Crespi is interesting, but as only that part of it which pertains to that section of Santa Cruz County through which they passed, is germane to this publication, the diary referring to other sections is omitted. This interesting old record may be found in a chapter succeeding this, in connection with the contribution to this work from E. L. Williams.
After many hardships this expedition reached San Diego on the twenty-fourth day of January, 1770, half dead from fatigue and hunger. They had twice passed the Bay of Monterey without recognizing it, and the opinion prevailed that since the days of Vizcaino the bay had been filled with sand. It is very easy to understand why and how the Portola expedition should have made this mistake. These people had been accustomed to the indentures of the coast of Lower California and Mexico, and the Bay of Monterey they expected to find similar in character to the bays with which they were familiar. The broad, open roadstead to the ocean, and the largeness of the bay viewed from a land standpoint, caused them to make the mistake. When this expedition returned and reported to Father Junipero Serra, the reverend gentleman entertained and expressed the opinion that the expedition had passed by the Bay of Monterey without recognizing it.
Some little time elapsed before it was convenient to set out again to find the Bay of Monterey, but about the middle of April Father Junipero, on board the San Antonio, sailed for Monterey Bay, and at the same time a second land expedition, in which were Father Crespi and the governor, started for the same point. Owing to contrary winds, the voyagers were driven as far south as the thirtieth degree of latitude, hence they were forty-six days in reaching Monterey. The land expedition made the journey in thirty-six days, having rested on the road only two days. The arrival and landing of Father Junipero Serra is most graphically related by himself in a letter to his friend and colaborer, Father Palou. This letter is as follows:—
"MY DEAR FRIEND: On the 31st of May, by favor of God, after a tedious and perilous voyage of a month and a half, the packet boat San Antonio, commanded by Captain Don Juan Perez, anchored in this beautiful Bay of Monterey, the same unchanged as it was left by the expedition of Don Sebastian Vizcaino, in the year 1603. It was a great consolation for me to be here, and the pleasure I felt increased with the news I received that same night, which was that the land expedition had arrived eight days previously, and with it Father Juan Crespi, all in good health. Our joy increased still more when, on the great feast of Pentecost, June 3d, close by the same shore, and under the same oak tree where the Fathers of Vizcaino's expedition had celebrated, we built an altar, and the bell having been rung, and the hymn `Veni Creator' intoned, we erected and consecrated a large cross, and unfurled the royal standard, after which I sang the first mass which is known to have been sung at this point since 1603. I preached the same mass, and at its conclusion we sang the 'Salve Regina' before a lovely image of our Blessed Lady, which had been placed above the altar; the statue was presented by his excellency. Our celebration terminated with the singing of the 'Te Deum,' after which the officers took possession of the land in the name of the king of Spain. During the celebration a salute of many cannons was fired from the ship. To God alone be honor and glory. It is not for me to judge why this harbor was not found by the first expedition. It was a year last May since I received a letter from the land of Christians. Let me know the name of the reigning pope, the canonization of blessed Joseph Cupertino and Serafino Asculi, that I may mention it at the canon of the mass; also if the canonization of Blessed Joseph Cupertino and Serafino Asculi has taken place; if there are any dead for whom we may pray. In a word, let us know whatever could be of interest to poor hermits sequestered, cut off from the society of men. I earnestly solicit you to send us two more missionaries, who, with the four here, will securely establish the mission of San Buenaventura in the Channel of Santa Barbara, the land being better adapted to the purpose than San Diego, Monterey, or any other port yet discovered. I would not wish that for want of missionaries this mission should be retarded. In truth, as long as Father Juan and I can stand, we will not be separated; for me it will be the greatest of trials to remain eighty leagues distant from another priest.
"Our supply of candles has run out here, as well as in San Diego; nevertheless, to-morrow we are going to celebrate the feast and procession of Corpus Christi, in order to chase away as many little devils as there may be found in this land. Write to the Visitor-General concerning the discovery of this harbor.
"Mission of San Carlos of Monterey, June 13th, feast of St. Anthony of Padua, 1770.
"Your friend and companion, FATHER JUNIPERO SERRA."
The Presidio and Mission of San Carlos were established June 3, 1770. When the news was received in Mexico of the rediscovery of the Bay of Monterey, it was an occasion of great rejoicing. Bells tolled from the steeples, and the principal people, both secular and ecclesiastical, repaired to the palace to congratulate his excellency. Solemn mass was celebrated at the cathedral, in which officials and dignitaries participated. In this connection I herewith submit an excerpt from Father Crespi's diary of the second land expedition to Monterey, bearing date of May 2, 1870. It is as follows:—
"After a journey of three leagues, we arrived at one of the salty lagunas of Punta Pinos, where a cross had been erected. Before alighting from our horses, the governor, a soldier, and myself approached the cross, seeking to discover some signs of the expedition which had set out by water, but we found none. The cross was surrounded by arrows, and little rods tipped with feathers, pending from a stick; at one side of the cross was a string of half-spoiled sardines, a pile of mussels, and a piece of meat. This astonished us not a little; but we failed to comprehend the significance of it; however, as soon as the neophytes were capable of expressing themselves in Spanish, they assured us that the first time they saw the Spaniards, their attention was attracted by a beautiful shining cross, which each one wore on his breast; that when they departed, they left on the shore this large cross, which seemed at night to almost touch the sky, and was surrounded with rays of heavenly light, but in daytime, seeing it in its natural proportions, and, to propitiate it, they had offered it flesh meat and fish; observing that it partook not of their feast, they presented arrows and feathers, as a token that they were at peace with the holy cross, and with those who had planted it."
This begins the mission period of that part of California adjacent to the Bay of Monterey, and it would be interesting to follow Father Junipero in his labors, the establishing of San Antonio Mission, the moving of the Mission of San Carlos to Carmello, and his zealous efforts to christianize the benighted natives; but as the venerable Father died in 1784, and the Mission of Santa Cruz was not established until 1791, his relation to this mission was simply that of the pioneer who had made the road and laid the foundation for future religious work.
A reference is made to Santa Cruz by Father Palou in 1775, at which time he was on his way from San Francisco to Monterey. He speaks of this locality after this manner:---
"After crosssing the creek of Santa Cruz, we forded the river San Lorenzo, which is pretty large and deep, the water reaching to the stirrups. The banks were covered with sycamore, cottonwood, and willow trees, and near the crossing close to the hills there are many redwood trees.
"This place is fit not only for a town, but for a city, without wanting any of the things necessary—with good water, land, pasture, wood, and timber just within reach, and in great abundance, and close to Monterey Bay. The town could be put a quarter of a league from the sea, with all the said conveniences. Through the woods of this river I saw the huts of some Indians, though they did not show themselves."
From San Diego to Monterey the coast had been covered by missions, so that nearly or quite all the Indians of this territory had been reached. Missions had also been established at Santa Clara and San Francisco, but no provision had as yet been made for the Indians around Aptos and Santa Cruz, so the time finally arrived when it was deemed advisable to establish a mission at this place.
It was on the twenty-fifth day of September, 1791, that Fathers Alonzo Salazar and Baldomero Lopez arrived and pitched their tents on the hill where the Catholic Church now stands. They began their work in a primitive way, with contributions from the nearest missions, as follows: From Santa Clara thirty cows, five yoke of oxen, fourteen bulls, twenty steers and nine horses. "Two pairs of the oxen," the record runs, "were very bad." The Carmel Mission gave seven mules. San Francisco gave five yoke of oxen. The record continues: "Of these five yoke of oxen we had to kill a pair, so bad were they, and of the seven mules received from Carmel, one was so gentle that he died three days after." San Francisco also sent sixty sheep, ten rams, and two bushels of barley. They did not attempt building until after they had all the Indians together, and taught them some of the arts of civilization. A year and a half passed away before they began the erection of the church. This was constructed of adobe and timbers cut and hewn on the spot. The walls of this church, the remains of which can still be seen here, in a good state of preservation, are five feet thick. It took a little more than a year to build the church, which is one hundred and twelve and one-half feet long, twenty-nine feet wide, and twenty-five and one-half feet high. The first stone was laid on the 23d of February, 1793, and the church was dedicated on the l0th of March, 1794.
I recently visited the grounds where the Old Mission stands, and with a memory of the zealous efforts of these pious padres freshened by reading the records of their labors, I recalled the primitive conditions with which they were surrounded, and noted the wonderful progress and development which the century had witnessed. As I stood on the commanding height of the site of the Old Mission, and looked across the Bay of Monterey, dotted here and there with sails of yachts and fishing boats; as I looked at the long gray stretch of sands, and the line of white breakers dashing upon them; as I looked at the semi-circling mountain range, now partially divested of its imposing forests which had at one time covered it almost from base to the black summit of Loma Prieta, I seemed to be psychologized by these surroundings, so that the drama and settings of one hundred years were taken from the stage, and I was at the beginning of this most interesting and complex performance, which has been on the boards for a century. Oblivious of the environments of civilization, of the magnificent new church in the shadow of which I stood, of the bustling town beneath me, the hum of industry, and the march of progress, I was with the zealous Franciscans who pitched their tent here and inaugurated a work of which it may be truly said, "This is the beginning of the history of Santa Cruz." The adjacent mountains were wild and rugged, the cañons deep and dark with the shadows of redwood and madrone. Instead of sails white caps flecked the bay, which was a lonely waste of water, with a lonesome reach of plain and hills beyond. Coyotes broke the stillness with their dismal howls, and herds of deer slaked their thirst in the clear waters of the San Lorenzo. Grizzly bears were numerous, prowling around in herds, like hogs on a Western farm. These were some of the conditions with which those who established the Santa Cruz Mission were surrounded.
The dedication of the church was a great occasion. Father Thomas Peña came over from Santa Clara, and Hermenegildo Sal, commanding officer of the Presidio at San Francisco, came down with four or five priests, and thus mission life at Santa Cruz was fully inaugurated. Like all other missions in this territory, it grew and flourished, until it was secularized, in 1834, when it shared the fate of the other missions and declined. The history of the decline of the missions has been written by Walter Colton. According to this record, in 1830 this mission had forty-two thousand eight hundred head of cattle, three thousand two hundred head of horses and mares, seventy-two thousand five hundred sheep, two hundred mules, and large herds of swine. The church possessed $25,000 worth of silver plate. This was the heyday of its prosperity. But while the mission declined and the Indian went back to his primitive condition, the church has steadily advanced, until now these grounds are adorned by one of the handsomest structures in this county, and the church is supported by a large and wealthy congregation. Its growth and progress I have deemed of sufficient interest and importance to receive mention in a separate article in this publication. In this connection the following notes of the Santa Cruz Mission, and mission life, by Father Adam, the priest of this parish at the time of the publication of "Elliott's History of Santa Cruz," in 1879, will prove instructive and interesting. I take the liberty of publishing them entire, as I find them in "Elliott's History:"
From old documents standing in this mission record, we find that scarcely had the friars arrived here when they applied themselves to call around the mission the wandering tribes of Indians, and began immediately to instruct them, through an interpreter, in the mystery of Christianity. To that effect they brought with them some other Indians already baptized and instructed, to facilitate their work.
From a very old leaf of paper, half blotted out by age, and written a few months after their arrival, we find the following items:---
"Information of the state of this mission at Santa Cruz, founded on the twenty-fifth day of September of this year (1791), and written down on the 31st of December, 1791.
"BAPTIZING.—We baptize in this year eighty-seven persons, nineteen of them adults, the other sixty-eight under age.
"MARRIAGES.—We celebrated six marriages, all of Indians.
"DEAD.—Died on this mission a child, baptized in the mission at Santa Clara (his parents are Gentiles), and a grown person.
"The Indians at present in this mission are eighty-nine, three of them from the Mission of Santa Clara, who were incorporated in this mission.
"HORNED CATTLE.—One hundred and thirty head of cattle, counting what the Mission of Santa Clara and that of our Father St. Francis gave to us.
"SHEEP.—One hundred and forty-six.
"HORSES.—Twenty-three.
"MULES.—Five.
"CROPS.—We sowed, the following year, twelve bushels of wheat, and one and one-half bushels of horse beans, or vetches.
"We have built a house seventy-one and a half feet long by six wide, with the rooms necessary for the padre and offices.
"The church is fifty-eight feet long and sixteen and one-half wide, with a vestry eleven feet wide by sixteen and one-half long. All these buildings formed of palisades.
"We have inclosed the place for cattle, sheep, and horses. We have brought the water to the mission, and we have fenced the orchard. The tools used at this mission belong to other missions, and we shall return them when we will receive those which the king is going to send.
"We brought with us four candlesticks of brass, a painting of our Lady of Sorrow, and an image of our Father St. Francis.
"This is a copy of the original sent on the 31st of December, 1791.
"FR. BALDOMERO LOPEZ."
From this document, the oldest I have found in this mission, we can perceive that the first missionaries did not keep a moment idle, but began at once tilling the land, erecting buildings, planting trees, and rearing cattle. But while they provided for the temporal wants of their neophytes, they were far more anxious for their spiritual welfare. To this purpose twice a day they were brought to the church, where catechism was taught to them, first by interpreters, until they knew sufficiently Spanish, when the priests used to teach them themselves.
The missionaries are highly criticised by some on account of giving so little or no secular instruction to the natives.
First, we have to reflect that in each mission there were never more than two priests, one to attend to the temporal, the other to the spiritual welfare of their neophytes.
How could they spare time to become schoolteachers, and teach them how to write, read, and make numbers? All these things would have come if the missions had been left to arrive to their mature age. From the beginning it was necessary to apply them to manual labor that they might subsist. However, we find a few Indians of the mission that knew how to write or read, especially among the singers.
Let us reflect that a century, and even half a century, ago, knowledge or secular teaching was not diffused as nowadays, or even among civilized nations. Then it was not considered a disgrace if a man did no know to write his name. We find many old folks reared in cultivated nations that do not know how to read or write. How much more excusable should be the Indians, who were passing from a savage life to one of industry!
Instead of criticising the Fathers for what they have not done, we should, rather, admire them for the great deal they did in the short time the missions were left under their control.
I regret that amongst the old papers I cannot find any account of the condition of the Indians of this place at the arrival of the first missionaries, nor anything concerning their habits or language, but from historical facts, in general, on the Indians of California, we may guess more or less the condition of the ones under our charge.
They were living here and there in rancherias, and nothing is so common as to find in the old books Indians of the rancherias called "Achistace," by us named of St. Dionysius, or of Rancho Vypin, or of Aptos.
We see that in the year 1795 they harvested one thousand one hundred bushels of wheat, six hundred bushels of corn, sixty bushels of beans, and half a bushel of lentils.
In a few years they erected over fifty houses for the Indians, they inclosed very large protreros, and even as far as New Year's Point they had houses for the steward and Indians that were watching over the herds.
Soon the tract of land along the coast was not sufficient for the thousand head of cattle pastured there, and the missionaries made application to the commanding officer in Monterey to allow them to use the tract of land know as "Bolsa," or Salsipuedes.
From what remains of the old adobe we may imagine the appearance of the other buildings. A row of houses used to run in front of the plaza, where the new church stands; then another wing was occupied by the girls under tutelage, called the convent. In the rear there were the shops of the carpenter, shoemaker, and blacksmith.
The Indians at the mission were not all of the same tribe, but perfect harmony prevailed, and when the season of work was over, many paid visits to their countrymen, and seldom returned alone, for the good friars had the art of making labor attractive.
The regulations of the mission were uniform. At daybreak the bell summoned all to the church for prayers and mass, from which they returned to breakfast. Then all joined their respective bands and proceeded to their regular labor.
At eleven they returned to dine and rested till two, when labor recommenced and lasted till the angelus, which was rung an hour before sunset. After prayers and beads, they supped and spent their evening in innocent amusements.
Their food was the fresh beef and mutton plentifully supplied by their flocks, cakes of wheat, and maize, peas, beans, and other vegetables.
The dress of the men was a shirt, trousers, and blanket, though the alcalde and chiefs of the gangs of workmen wore frequently the complete Spanish dress. The dress of the women was the usual one, with the invariable blanket.
They used to receive from Tepic and Mexican ports the goods they needed; in return they used to sell breadstuffs, hemp, cordage, hides, and tallow.
Four soldiers and a corporal stationed near the mission were enough to keep hundreds of Indians under subjection; or, with more truth, it was the kindness and religious influence of the good friars that had gained a hold in the heart of the poor Indians.
However, for proper precaution, the Fathers were not allowed to travel far from the mission, or go out at night, without the escort of a soldier or two.
The neglecting of this system proved fatal to Father Quintana, in the year 1812. Late at night he was called down to the orchard, where an Indian was said to be sick. The friar, in order not to disturb the soldiers from their sleep, went alone with the Indian. While he was returning from the sick person, those who were lying in ambush got hold of the priest, and ordered him to prepare for death, since he would not see his native place any more. All his entreaties were of no avail. He was hung from a tree, just where the track of the Felton railroad passes now, not many yards from the tunnel.
When he was dead, they brought his body in and put it in his bed and covered it, as if he were asleep. They could do this, because his associate priest was that night away to Monterey, and Quintana was here alone. His attendant called him at the usual hour in the morning, but found him dead. He was buried as if he had died a natural death. Nevertheless, his friends had suspicions; and they took prompt measures to ascertain the truth.
From an old paper we see that a surgeon came from Monterey to examine the body of the murdered man, having in his hands an order from the commanding officers in Monterey to the surviving missionary, to allow the disinterment of his remains. The truth was then discovered. But who had done the deed ? That was the dark and terrible secret. And long was it kept a secret; for years it was kept. In a singular enough manner was it discovered.
An Indian major domo went from the mission on business to New Year's Point. He knew the language of the Indians living there, but those Indians did not know that he knew it.
While his dinner was preparing by them, he overheard some of them saying between themselves: "This fellow is from the Mission Santa Cruz. Don't you remember how we killed Father Quintana there so many years ago?"
"Yes, we remember it well, but it was never found out."
"Well, let us kill this fellow too, before he gets away."
The listening major domo pretended to be asleep while this talk was going on, but he heard and understood it all.
Leisurely arousing himself pretty soon, he said to the Indians: "Don'y hurry about dinner till I come back; I don't feel very well; I want to go down to the beach and take a bath."
He went down to the beach, but among the rocks he quickly got out of sight, and soon found a horse that he could mount, and so he escaped their designs.
He made his way over the mountains to Mission Santa Clara, and there told his story, and revealed the long-kept secret of the authors of the murder of Father Ouintana.
Information was at once sent to headquarters at Monterey, and the guilty parties were taken into custody. But, through the exertions of the missionaries, their lives were spared; however, it is said they all died a filthy death, eaten up by leprosy.
Father Quintana was buried at the side of the old church, and it is the intention of the present pastor to find his grave and have him decently buried, and convert that place into a kind of mortuary chapel, where the old mementoes of the mission will be preserved.
The original motive for the establishment of the missions was the conversion of the native population to the Roman Catholic faith, and the extension of the dominion of the Spanish crown.
When the Mexican revolution brought in a new order of things, more secular ideas began to prevail. Still, for a long time, respect was had for the Indian, the original inhabitant, the real worker, and his claim to ownership was acknowledged. And even after secularization took place, and the padre was deposed from his civil and secular authority, a political appointee administered affairs mainly in the interest of the native race. We see that most plainly in the administration of General Figueroa.
But secularization was quickly followed by colonization. New settlers were sent hither by Mexico, and the understanding was that they should somehow get the mission lands. This Figueroa resisted as long as he lived, backed by the authority of Santa Ana, but the prize was too tempting. The native race had no power of resistance in their own behalf; they were only children; and they have quickly given place to people of other races. In the year 1823 their number was estimated at over one hundred thousand, and at least twenty thousand were connected with the missions, but in 1867 their number had dwindled down to less than twenty thousand in all, and only a few of them can be found to-day.
Mission life must have been a strange existence. "Sequestered, cut off," as Father Junipero has said, from civilization and the balance of the world, the environments, the daily routine of duties, and the hopes and the aspirations of the Europeans who were here, were all different from anything of the present day. It was a civilization unique in character, to be compared only to the patriarchal rule of the Jews.
When one contrasts the nature of this civilization with that which was forming and growing at the same time on the Atlantic Coast of this continent, the difference is striking, and illustrative of the character and nature of things which endure in the hurly-burly of the eighteenth and nineteenth century progress. In California the immigration was from Spain, a country similar in many respects. Here the Spaniards found the roses of Castile, the flowers that bloomed on their native heath, and that equable and genial atmosphere so conducive to rest and enjoyment. Do not infer from this that priests were indolent. Imbued with religious zeal, they worked enthusiastically and indefatigably, both for temporal prosperity and the advancement of the cause of Christ. And while the natives in many instances became expert workmen as mechanics, as well as ordinary laborers, as soon as the missions were secularized and the priests lost their influence and power over them, they relaxed into the condition of lethargy, begotten by their environments and inherited from their ancestors.
The distinguishing characteristic of this civilization was the effort that was made to civilize the Indians and make them self-sustaining, to teach them the arts, to work, and fear God. In a measure and for a time it was successful, but ultimately has failed.
The civilization of the East started in to extirpate the aborigines, and if it has not succeeded, it is succeeding as fast as a Christian conscience will permit. In truth and in faith have the red men of the United States felt the force of Christ's remark, "I come not to bring peace, but a sword."
The dispassionate observer who believes in the common origin and universal brotherhood of man, will note with approbation and reverence the work of the early missionaries in California, but will turn with pity and in horror from the contemporaneous events on the other side of the continent.
The pictures of mission life in California which have come down to us through the mission records and the narratives of those people whose memories extend back to that period, convey to us at this age the image of a daily recurring scene so similar to the preceding one as to become monotonous. There were very few variations from the daily routine as pictured by the foregoing extract from the records of Father Adam. The daily work was accomplished with but little friction, owing to the perfect management by the Fathers and obedience of the natives. Sometimes a recalcitrant Indian was flogged into obedience, and on a few occasions there were assassinations, and attempts at assassinations, made by the natives. But they were very rare, much less frequent than would occur among a similar number of their more civilized white successors of to-day.
This order of events continued until 1834. The government was a sort of a communism. The temporal and spiritual wants of the Indians were attended to, and their services were given for the general good of the mission. With the decline of the missions the Indians were deprived of their managers, and, being compelled to resort to their own resources, fared worse, and gradually relapsed into their semi-barbarous and nomadic conditions. At this time the different civilization which, had first made its footprints on the other shores of this land, had made a road through the Western wilds and begun its conquest on this coast in a far different but much more certain way than by the method that had been in vogue.
The discovery of gold gave an impetus to the tiny rivulet of emigration which had flown from the far East, making but a faint course across the plains, scarcely disturbing the conditions of native wildness, which was then to be found in the great billows of bending grass, in the arid and parched desert, in the great backbone of earth, which stood as a rock barrier between the two oceans, until it became a madly-rushing, roaring torrent, bringing with it every condition of the territory from which it started. Then came the mining days of California, with their spirit of unrest and seeking for golden treasure, the transition period from sleepy mission life to the bustling activity and civilization of to-day.
Of these conditions it will be my province in future chapters to speak, more particularly of the conditions which contributed to the development and growth of Santa Cruz County. Reminiscences of early times have been collated wherever they would permit a glimpse behind the veil which hides the past from the present. It is hoped that these reminiscences will throw much light upon the period of which mention has just been made; if they do not, it is confidently believed that they will be a condiment to the narrative and statistical part of this work, which might otherwise be like the negro's rabbit, "pow'ful dry eatin'."
Transcribed by Kathy Sedler