Santa Cruz County History

HISTORY OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY, CALIFORNIA.-  E. S. Harrison, Pacific Press Publ. Co., San Francisco, 1891

CHAPTER III.

NARRATIVE OF A MISSION INDIAN, ETC.

[Translated from an interview in 1890, by E. L. Williams.]

        THERE is now living in Santa Cruz an old Indian who was baptized at the Santa Cruz Mission about the year 1819. He was educated by the priests, and sang in the choir. He possesses extraordinary intelligence for an Indian, as indicated by the education which he has obtained. He reads and writes the Spanish language. In many instances have I found corroborative evidence of what he has said, particularly in the chapter of Perouse's history descriptive of mission life in Monterey in 1786, which the publisher has deemed of sufficient interest and importance to incorporate in this volume, and which follows the narrative of the Indian Lorenzo:‑--

        "I was born at the Mission of Santa Cruz, on Monday, the tenth day of August, 1819, and given the name of Lorenzo by Padre Ramon Olbez. Three days afterward I was baptized at the baptismal font. My father's name was Venancio. My mother's name was Maria; my brother's name was Jacinto. I was with the reverend Fathers of the Mission of Santa Cruz until I was grown up, and then I went to Monterey, and was employed by General Figueroa, and was taught to play the clarionet by Sergeant Rafael Estrada. There were other military officers there, named Eugenio Montenegro, captain of infantry, Augustin Zamarano, captain of cavalry, and Lieutenant Colonel Nicolas Guitierrez. The barracks and officers' quarters were where now is the church at Monterey. Afterwards I lived at the Mission of Carmelo for one year, during the time of Padre Rafael Moreno, who was a missionary. I conversed at that time with the Indians of that mission about the death of Padre Junipero Serra. They told me they were at his funeral, and for three nights the corpse was watched, and afterwards he was interred, as some of them thought, at San Antonio Mission. Others insist the corpse was embalmed and sent to New Spain (Mexico). When Figueroa died, the corpse was embalmed and taken to Mexico.

        "Afterwards I came to the Mission of Santa Cruz, and was instructed how to read and write in Spanish by Padre Antonio Real. I was the sacristan, and sang and played in the choir. There were about twenty of us that composed the choir, of which I am the only one living.

        "The land cultivated in those days was all of the tract between the hill at the end of Pacific Avenue and the hill where the public school now is. There were eight hundred and thirty-six who received rations as I read from the roll. The list was kept by Padre José Jimeno, and one day, he being out, I counted the names. They all slept in houses where now is the Sisters' School. All the space about there was covered with dormitories. Some of them were engaged in weaving blankets, others were carpenters, others blacksmiths, tanners, and many worked in the field, cultivating and harvesting. The women prepared the wool for the weavers, did much of the sewing of clothes, and also at times worked in the field. The tanyard was near to the adobe house owned by Mrs. Boston, formerly belonging to Rafael Castro, who was the grantee under the Mexican Government of the Rancho Aptos, now owned by Mr. C. Spreckles.

        "The names of the Fathers whom I remember were, first, Francisco Moreno, following him, Luis Altaguada, Juan Moreno, Antonio Jimeno, José Jimero, and, lastly, Antonio Real. These were missionaries belonging to the Santa Cruz Mission. There was a tribe of Indians living up the coast called Jaraum. The Indian children were brought to the mission, and afterwards came the grown ones. They were all Christianized by being baptized. Another tribe called Esuans also lived up the coast, and another tribe living farther up the coast was called Joali; another tribe, living at Soquel, had for their captain Balthazar, a name given by the Fathers. These different tribes fought with each other with bows and arrows. Those of Soquel had for their boundary what is now known as Arana Gulch. Soquel is an Indian proper name, so also is Zayante, and are not translatable. The names of the Indian tribes were given them from the names of the lands they occupied. Santa Cruz was called Aulinta in the Indian tongue. I will give you in their language some words : One, hinumen; two, uthiu; three, caphau; four, catwaz; five, nissor; six, sacen; seven, tupucy; eight, nizatis; nine, nuke; ten, iwes (beyond this there are no numbers, but in counting, twenty, for instance, is called uthinues, meaning two tens); mancharas, woman; ketchkema, boy; dui, girl; atchsema, wife; hounsen, husband; maco, knife; chipay, ax; hatis, arrows; temo, bow; liti, come here; hai, sick; ena, dead; esu, hand; coro, feet; uri, head; hein, eyes; ochi, ear; uss, nose; hais, beard; summup, eyebrow; siit, teeth; tur, nails of the hand.

        "I have always lived in Santa Cruz, except a time in Monterey, and San Jose three years, and at the presidio, San Francisco, four years. I was employed at the latter place by Jesus Noe, who was alcalde. This was in 1846 and 1847. I worked about his house and milked the cows and did the chores. When Fremont came, I was made a soldier, and served in the presidio with other Indians at San Francisco. Afterwards I returned to Santa Cruz. There were too many people in San Francisco for me. At the presidio, Francisco Sanchez was our captain. One day there came a man-of-war vessel, flying the Mexican flag. We were in doubt about her nationality, because she also had the American flag flying lower down the rigging in the stern. Soon the vessel came to an anchor, fired their guns, lowered their boats, hoisted the American flag on top, and we knew then it was an American war vessel. What could we do? There were fourteen Indians of us, without arms, shoes, or much clothing. The crew then commenced to ascend the hill of the presidio. Our officers were Francisco Haro, Francis Guerrero, and Jesus Noe. They were obliged to put down their arms and surrender. We said one to the other, ' Now we shall be killed.' We were made to stand to one side, and then we were laughed at, not having hats, shoes, nor arms. They told us not to be afraid; we should have clothing and plenty to eat, and soon we had a grand feast. We got drunk, and then we were very brave. The next day came three more vessels, and thus was San Francisco taken by the Americans.

        "The Indians at the mission were very severely treated by the padres, often punished by fifty lashes on the bare back. They were governed somewhat in the military style, having sergeants, corporals, and overseers, who were Indians, and they reported to the padres any disobedience or infraction of the rules, and then came the lash without mercy, the women the same as the men. The lash was made of rawhide. I was never punished, except a few slaps for forgetfulness. I was always busy in the padres' house, doing the work of a house servant. Sometimes the padres would leave a real [silver coin, one-eighth of a dollar] in some corner, or under the bed, to see if I would take it. I was never tempted in that way, but often others were, and then punished. It was the custom of one of the padres to go about at night disguised, and he would come upon his Indian officers playing cards by the fire. One would say during the game, 'I play this card!' another some other card. He would approach nearer and say, 'I play this card,' showing his hands in the light of the blaze of the fire, when the others would discover by his white hands that he was not one of them.

        "The Indians at the Mission of Santa Cruz, after prayers in the morning at church, received their orders as to their labors, at the church door; then they went to breakfast, and had their meal altogether of boiled barley, which was served out to them from two large caldrons by means of a copper ladle. This full was the ration to each in a cora (a small kind of basket), from which they ate with a shell or the fingers. Some had small gourds into which they received their rations. Boiled barley was all they had in the mornings. The labors were in the field mostly. All of the land where Santa Cruz is was cultivated, also the meadow near Kron's tanyard. At eleven o'clock A. M. the bell was rung to call them together—the same bell that was on the church a few years ago. The dinner consisted of a mixture of cooked horse beans and peas. At the end of an hour the bell was rung again, and all went to work until about sunset, when each received his rations of boiled corn. Such of the Indians as had families were given meat also. A beef was killed every eight days.

        "The land cultivated was all fenced with posts driven in the ground and tied with hazel bark, and a ditch outside. They worked in plowing-time from one hundred to one hundred and thirty oxen. The surplus products were sold to vessels that came to buy. The Russian vessels carried away the wheat and barley, Spanish vessels taking beans, corn, dried peas, and dried horse beans. English vessels carried away hides and tallow.          

        "The Indians were dressed with pantaloons of coarse wool, and a blanket over the shoulders. The women wore a skirt of the same material and also a blanket. We had no shoes or hats. If any of us entered the church with a dirty blanket, he was punished with fifty lashes, men and women alike. We were always trembling with fear of the lash. The padres nominated an alcalde and assistant for each of the different bands, of which there were about thirty. Those tribes nearest to the mission, such as up the coast a way, and as far south as Aptos, could understand each other, but those from a few miles farther off did not. Those of Gilroy were in their own language called Paxen ; San Juan, Uiuhi; Pajaro, Nootsum; Aptos, Aptos; Soquel, Soquel : up the coast Tili and Ulsicsi; at Red Bank Dairy, up the coast, Posorou ; on the San Vicente Creek, Sorsecsi; near the old limekilns of Williams' Landing, Coyulicsi.

        "To capture the wild Indian, first were taken the children, and then the parents followed. The padres would erect a hut, and light the candles to say mass, and the Indians, attracted by the light—thinking they were stars—would approach, and soon be taken. These would bring in others, such as their relatives. My father's tribe was Jlli, and he belonged to the tribe that lived up the coast. They lived upon shellfish, which they took from the seacoast, and carried them to the hills, where were their rancherias. The remains of the shells are there now, and can be seen in numerous places. They made their huts of branches of trees, which they cut down by firing and then using sharp stones. They also had acorns to eat, which they ground in stone mortars, called urwan. The pestle was called packshan. To cook the acorn after being ground, the mass was put into large baskets, which were made water tight, being woven with grass roots of a kind very long and tough. Into these were put hot stones, which caused the water to boil, and so the meal was cooked. Their meat was deer, killed by the bow and arrow, also rabbits, rats, elk, and antelope.

        "There were many bears in those days; they used to come and sit on their haunches on the hill where now is the water reservoir and residence of J. H. Logan, watching for a chance to kill one of the calves of the mission. The Indians killed bears with bows and arrows and clubs. The wine the padres had to drink was brought from the Mission of San Gabriel on mules, being a journey of nearly one month. There were no vineyards about Santa Cruz. Afterwards a vineyard was planted in San Jose. My father planted and cultivated the orchard of apple and pear trees at Santa Cruz, known as the Mission orchard. The trees were brought to the mission very small, in barrels, so that the roots were kept damp. My father told me they had been brought from New Spain."

EXTRACT FROM PEROUSE'S WORK.

        In 1798 there was published a work in two volumes, by John Francis Galoup de la Perouse, descriptive of his voyage around the world in 1785-88. In September, 1786, he arrived at the Bay of Monterey, sixteen years after the establishment of San Carlos Mission. He landed and was entertained by the mission Fathers, and during his stay had an excellent opportunity of observing the manners and customs of the Indians, as well as the means used by the Fathers to convert them to Christianity. He has written with apparent truthfulness and evident sincerity, and as what he has said in regard to the settlement on the south side of the bay will apply with equal force to the Santa Cruz Mission, and as his account is the fullest and most authentic, being the oldest, of anything I have been able to find, I herewith quote most of the chapter, taking occasion in this connection to return thanks to a gentleman who has been of great assistance to me in compiling the early history of Santa Cruz County, Mr. E. L. Williams, for the use of the volume from which this extract is made:---

        The Bay of Monterey, formed by New Year's Day Point to the northward, and Cypress Point to the southward, is eight leagues across at its entrance in that direction, and nearly six in depth to the eastward, where the lands are low and sandy. The sea rolls in to the very foot of the downs of sand with which the coast is skirted, with a noise which we heard at above a league distance. The lands to the northward and southward of this bay are elevated and covered with trees. Ships intending to put in here must keep the south shore aboard, and after doubling Cypress Point, which stretches out to the northward, they will see the presidio, and may drop anchor in ten fathoms water within and behind this point, which shelters them from the sea breezes. The Spanish ships that intend making a long stay at Monterey are accustomed to approach within one or two cables' length of the shore, in six fathoms of water, where they moor to an anchor which they bury in the sand of the beach. They are then sheltered from the south winds, which are sometimes very strong, though not dangerous, as they blow off shore. We got soundings all over the bay, and anchored four leagues from the land in sixty fathoms water, over a bottom of soft mud. But the sea is very heavy there, and ships can only remain a few hours at such an anchorage, while waiting for daylight or the clearing of a fog. At the full and change of the moon it is high water at half past one, and the tide rises eleven feet; as the bay is very open, its drift is almost imperceptible; I never knew it more than half a knot an hour. I cannot describe the number or familiarity of the whales that surrounded us. They were continually blowing at the distance of half a pistol shot, and occasioned a very disagreeable smell in the air. This was an effect unknown to us, but the inhabitants informed us the water blown by whales always had that quality, which spread to a considerable distance. But it would doubtless have been no new phenomenon to the fishermen of Greenland or Nantucket.

        The coasts of Monterey Bay are covered by almost eternal fogs, which render it difficult of approach, though in other respects there scarcely exists a bay more easily entered, for there is no sunken rock a cable's length from the beach, and if the fog is too thick, there is anchorage everywhere, till a clear interval exposes distinctly to view the Spanish settlement, situated in the angles formed by the southern and eastern shores.

        The sea is covered with pelicans, but it appears these birds never go above five or six leagues from land, so that navigators who perceive them during a fog, will be certain they are within that distance. We saw them for the first time in this bay, and I have since learned that they are very common on all the coast of California. They are called by the Spaniard alcatras.

        A lieutenant colonel, who resides at Monterey, is governor of both the Californias. Though his government is eight hundred leagues in circumference, his real command extends but to two hundred and eighty-two soldiers of cavalry, who garrison five small forts and furnish detachments of four or five men to each of the twenty-five missions, or parishes, into which Old and New California are divided. These little guards suffice to keep in subjection about fifty thousand wandering Indians, spread over this vast extent of the American continent, and of whom nearly ten thousand have embraced Christianity. These Indians are generally small and feeble, and afford no proof of that love of independence and liberty which characterizes the northern nations, to whose arts and industry they are strangers. Their complexion very nearly resembles those negroes whose hair is not woolly ; that of this nation is long, and very strong, and they cut it four or five inches from the roots. Several of them have beards, while others, according to the missionaries, never had any, though it is an undecided point in the country itself. The governor, who had traveled much in the interior, and had lived with the savages during fifteen years, assures us those who had no beard had extracted it with bivalve shells, used as pincers. But the president of the missions, who had resided in California an equal length of time, maintained the contrary. Thus travelers are wholly unable to form a decision, and as we cannot assert what we have not witnessed, we must acknowledge we only saw beards on one-half of the number of adults, some of them having it so thick as to have made a respectable figure, even in Turkey or the environs of Moscow.

        These Indians are very adroit in the use of the bow, and killed the smallest birds in our presence. It is true their patience in getting near their prey is inconceivable. They conceal themselves while creeping up to it, and rarely pull the bow till within fifteen paces.

        Their industry in hunting is still more surprising. We saw one of them crawling on all fours with a stag's head fixed on his own, as if he were browsing the grass, and performing his part so well that all our hunters would have fired at him at a distance of thirty paces, had they not been apprised of that maneuver. Thus they approach a herd of stags within reach and kill them with their arrows.

        Loretto is the only presidio of Old California on the eastern coast of that peninsula. Its garrison consists of fifty-four cavalrymen, and furnishes detachments to the fifteen following missions, of which the functions are performed by the Dominican monks, who have succeeded the Jesuits and Franciscans. These last, however, remain in undisturbed possession of the ten missions of New California. The fifteen missions of the department of Loretto are San Vicente, San Domingo, El Rosario, San Fernandez, San Francisco de Borgia, Santa Gertrude, San Ignacio, La Guadalupe, Santa Rosalia, La Concepcion, San Joses, San Francesco Xavier, Loretto, San Joses de Cabo Lucar, and Todos los Santos. About four hundred Indian converts, collected round their fifteen parishes, are the only fruit of the long apostleship of the various religious orders, who have successively undertaken this painful duty. In the history of California by Father Venegas, we may read an account of the establishment of the fortress of Loretto, and the various missions it protects, whereby, comparing their past conditions with that of the present year, it is evident that their progress is very slow. As yet there is only one Spanish village. It is true the climate is unhealthy, and the province of Sonora, which forms the boundary of the Mar Vermejo, or Red Sea, to the eastward, and California to the westward, is much more attractive to the Spaniards, who find there a fertile soil and abundant mines—objects far more important in their eyes than the pearl fisheries of the peninsula, which require a considerable number of slaves who can dive, and these often very difficult to procure. Yet North California, notwithstanding its great distance from Mexico, appears to combine infinitely greater advantages. Its first settlement, which is San Diego, commenced only on the 26th of July, 1769, and is the presidio most to the southward, as that of San Francisco is the most northerly. This last was constituted on the 9th of October, 1776, that of Santa Barbara's channel in September, 1781, and lastly Monterey, now the capital and seat of government of both Californias, on the 3rd of June, 1770. The roadstead of this presidio was discovered in 1602, by Sebastian Vizcaino, commodore of a small squadron equipped at Acapulco, by order of the viscount of Monterey, who was viceroy of Mexico. Since that epoch the galleons, on their return from Manilla, have sometimes put into this bay to procure refreshments after their long runs; but it was not till the year 1770 that the Franciscans established their first mission there. They have now ten, comprehending five thousand one hundred and forty-three converted Indians. The following table will show their names, dates, number of baptized Indians, and the presidios on which they depend. I will here observe that with the Spaniards presidio is a general name for all forts, whether in Africa or America, placed in the middle of a country of infidels, and implying that there are no other inhabitants than the garrison, which resides within the citadel.

        The piety of the Spaniards has, at a heavy expense, kept up these missions and presidios to the present time, from no other motive than to convert and civilize the Indians of these countries—a system far more praiseworthy than that of avaricious individuals who seem invested with national authority merely to commit with impunity the cruelest atrocities. The reader will soon perceive that a new branch of commerce may procure to Spain more solid advantages than the richest mines of Mexico, and that the salubrity of the air, the fertility of the soil, the abundance of furs, for which they have a certain market in China, give this part of America the most important advantages over Old California, whose unwholesomeness and fertility cannot be compensated by a few pearls collected from the bottom of the sea.

        Before the Spaniards settled here, the Indians of California only cultivated a little maize, and almost entirely subsisted on fishing and hunting. No country abounds more in all sorts of fish and game. Hares, rabbits, and stags are very common, otters and sea wolves as abundant as to the northward, and they kill in winter a very large number of bears, foxes, wolves, and wild cats. The coppices and plains are full of little gray-crested partridges, which, like those of Europe, flock together but in covies of three or four hundred. They are fat and very well flavored. The trees are the habitation of the most charming birds, and our ornithologists stuffed many varieties of the sparrows, blue jays, tomtits, spotted magpies, and troupiales. Among the birds of prey were the white-headed eagle, the large and small falcon, goss hawk, sparrow hawk, black vulture, great horn owl, and the raven. The waterfowl found on pools and on the seaside were the mallard, the gray and white yellow-crested pelican, goelands of various kinds, cormorants, curlews, ring-necked plover, small gulls, and herons; and we killed and stuffed a promerops, which most ornithologists have thought to belong to the old hemisphere.

        The fertility of the soil exceeds conception. All sorts of leguminous plants are in great perfection, and we enriched the gardens of the governor and missions with various seeds we brought from Paris. They were perfectly well preserved, and will increase the stock of their enjoyments.

        The harvest of maize, barley, wheat, and peas can only be compared to those of Chile, a fertility of which the European husbandman can form no adequate idea. Its medium product of corn is from seventy to eighty-fold, and the extremes sixty and one hundred. Fruit trees are as yet very scarce, but the climate is perfectly adapted to them, being nearly that of our southernmost provinces in France. At least the cold is never more severe, though the heats of summer much more moderate, in consequence of the perpetual mists, which fecundate the earth with constant moisture.

        The forests contain the pineapple, fir, cypress, evergreen oak, and western plane tree, all thinly sown. A greensward, very pleasant for walking, covers the earth within them, and they have openings of many leagues, forming vast plains amid the surrounding forests, and abounding in every sort of game. The soil, though very fertile is sandy and light, owing, I imagine, that excellence to the humidity of the air, as it is very ill watered. The nearest stream to the presidio is at a distance of two leagues; it is a rivulet which runs near the mission of San Carlos, and called by the ancient navigators Rio de Carmel. This distance from our ships was too great for us to water there; we got it from the ponds behind the fort, though the quality was indifferent, hardly dissolving soap. The Rio de Carmel, which furnishes a salubrious and agreeable beverage to the missionaries and their converts, might, with little labor, be made to water their garden.

        It is with the liveliest pleasure that I describe the wise and pious conduct of these monks, who so fully correspond with the object of their institution, though I shall not conceal what I deem reprehensible in their internal administration. But I declare that, good and humane in their individual capacity, they temper the austerity of the rules laid down by the superiors of their order with the mildness and benevolence of their private character. I confess that, more attached to the rights of man than theology, I should have wished them to combine with the principles of Christianity a legislation calculated to make citizens of a race of men, whose condition scarcely differs from that of the negroes of our colonies, in those plantations which are conducted with most mildness and humanity.

        I am perfectly aware of the extreme difficulty of this new plan. I know these men possess few ideas, still less steadiness, and, if their conductors cease to consider them as children, run away from those who have had the labor of instructing them. I know, too, that reasoning is almost lost upon them, and that an appeal to their senses is necessary, and that corporal punishment with a double proportion of rewards, has hitherto been the only means adopted by their governors. But it is impossible for men influenced by ardent zeal and possessed of extreme patience, to demonstrate to a small number of families the advantages of a society founded on the rights of nations, to establish among them the institution of property so engaging to the rest of mankind, and by this order of things to induce everyone to cultivate his field with emulation, or devote himself to some other species of industry.

        I allow the progress of this new mode of civilization would be very slow, the necessary labor of it very painful and tedious, and the scenes of action of very remote distance, so that the applauses due to the character, who should devote his life to deserve them, would never reach his ears. Nor am I afraid to confess that mere humanity is an inadequate motive to undertake the office. The enthusiasm to which religion gives birth, and the rewards she promises, can alone compensate the sacrifices, the tediousness, the fatigue, and the risk of this mode of life. I have only to wish the austere, though charitable and pious individuals I met with on these missions, possessed a little more of the true spirit of philosophy.

        I have already declared with freedom my opinion of the monks of Chile, whose irregularity appeared to me a general scandal to their order. I shall with equal truth portray those truly apostolic individuals who have quitted the lazy life of the cloister, to encounter every kind of fatigue, of care, and of solicitude. I shall, as usual, give the narrative of our own adventures by relating their history, and placing before the reader all we saw or learned during our short stay at Monterey.

        We anchored on the 14th of September, in the evening, two leagues off shore, within sight of the presidio and the two ships that lay in the harbor. They fired a gun every quarter of an hour to apprise us of the place for anchoring, which the fog might conceal from us. At ten o'clock at night the captain of the corvette La Favorecida came on board in his longboat, and offered to pilot our ship into harbor. The corvette La Princesa also sent her longboat with a pilot on board the Astrolabe. We then learned that these two ships were Spanish, and commanded by Don Estevan Martinez, lieutenant of marine of the department of San Blas, in the province of Guadalaxara. The government keeps a small navy in that port, under the orders of the viceroy of Mexico, consisting of four corvettes of twelve guns, and a schooner, whose particular destination is the victualing the presidio of North California. It was these same ships that performed the last voyage of the Spaniards on the northwest coast of America. They are also sometimes sent as packet boats to Manilla, to carry with promptitude the dispatches of the court.

        We had got under way at ten in the morning, and anchored in the road at noon, where we were saluted by seven guns, which we returned. I then sent an officer to the governor with a letter of the Spanish minister delivered to me before my departure for France. It was unsealed, and addressed to the viceroy of Mexico, whose jurisdiction extends as far as Monterey, though situated eleven hundred leagues (by land) from his capital.

        Señor Fages, commandant of the fort of the two Californias, had already received orders to give us the same reception as to the ships of his nation, and he executed them with an air of graciousness and warmth of interest that deserve our sincerest gratitude. He did not confine himself to kind expressions, but sent on board oxen, milk, and vegetables in great abundance. The desire to serve us threatened even to disturb the good understanding that reigned between the commandant and the two corvettes and the commandant of the fort, each being desirous to engross the right of exclusively supplying our wants; and to compensate these attentions, and balance the account, we were obliged to insist on paying for them, before they would accept our money. The vegetables, the milk, the fowls, all the labor of the garrison in assisting us to get wood and water, was furnished gratis, and the oxen, sheep, and grain were charged at so moderate a price that it was evident they only presented the account because we had been so urgent in demanding it.

        Señor Fages added to generous manners the greatest politeness of behavior. His house was ours, and everyone under his command was at our disposal.

The monks of the Mission of San Carlos, situated two leagues from Monterey, soon arrived at the presidio, and with the same politeness we had experienced from the officers of the fort and ships, invited us to dine with them, promising to make us acquainted with the minutia of the institution and missions, the manner of life of the Indians, their arts, their newly-adopted manners, and, in general, everything that would excite the curiosity of travelers. We eagerly embraced the offers, and should not have failed to make an application to that effect had they not anticipated our solicitations. We agreed to go two days after. Señor Fages was desirous to accompany us, and undertook to procure us horses. After crossing a small plain covered with herds of cattle, and only furnished with a few trees that serve as a shelter to those animals from the rain or sultry heats, we ascended some hills, where we heard several bells announcing our arrival, of which the monks had been apprised by a horseman previously sent forward by the governor.

        They received us like lords of the manor making their first entry on their estates. The president of the missions, in his ceremonial habiliments, and with holy water in his hand, received us at the door of the church, which was illuminated as on the grandest festivals, and, conducting us to the steps of the high altar, began to chant a Te Deum for the success of our voyage.

        Before we entered the church, we had crossed a square, where the Indians of both sexes formed a line; but their countenances showed no sign of surprise at our arrival, and even left it doubtful whether we should become the subject of their conversation during the remainder of the day.

        The parish church is very neat, though covered with thatch. It is dedicated to St. Charles, and decorated with tolerable good paintings, copied from those of Italy. Among others is a picture of hell, where the artist seems to have borrowed the imagination of Callot. But it is indispensably necessary to strike the senses of these new converts in a lively manner. I am convinced such a representation never was more useful in any country, and that it would be impossible for the Protestant religion, which proscribes images, and almost all the ceremonies of the Gallican church, to make any progress among this nation. I doubt whether the picture of paradise opposite, produces on them so good an effect. The quietism it portrayed and the soothing satisfaction of the elect who surround the throne of the Most High, are ideas too sublime for the minds of uncultivated savages. But it is necessary to place the rewards, as well as the punishments, before them, while it was an indispensable duty not to admit of any deviation from the kind of pleasures held out to man by the Catholic religion.

        On coming out of the church, we passed the same ranks of Indians, who had not quitted their post during the Te Deum. The children alone had moved, forming groups near the house of the missionaries, which, with their several magazines, are opposite to the church. On the right hand is the Indian village, consisting of about fifty huts, inhabited by seven hundred and forty persons of both sexes, including children, who altogether compose the Mission of San Carlos, or Monterey.

        These huts are the most miserable that exist among any nation. Their form is circular, and six feet diameter by four high. Some stakes about the size of the arm, being fixed in the ground and brought together in an arch at top, compose their frame, and eight or ten trusses of straw, badly arranged upon these stakes, defend the inhabitants more or less from the rain and wind. More than half this hut remains open in fine weather, and their only precaution is to keep two or three spare trusses of straw near each of their houses.

        This agrestic architecture, which is universal throughout the two Californias, the exhortations of the missionaries have never succeeded in changing. The Indians reply that they love the open air, and that it is convenient to set fire to their houses when they are too much annoyed by fleas, and then rebuild them in an hour or two. The independent Indians, who so frequently change their abode, have, like every nation of hunters, additional motives to this preference.

        The color of these Indians, which is that of negroes, the house of the monks, their magazines, which are built of brick and plastered, the threshing floor on which they tread out the corn, the cattle, the horses—in short, everything we observed, presented the appearance of a plantation in San Domingo, or any other colony. The men and women are also assembled by the sound of a bell, and a monk leads them to work, to church, and to all their employments. We declare with pain that the resemblance is so exact that we saw both men and women loaded with irons, while others had a log of wood on their legs; and even the noise of the lash might have assailed our ears, as that mode of punishment is equally admitted, though employed with little severity.

        The answers of the monks to our various questions made us perfectly acquainted with the regulations of this religious community, for such the administration established here must be called. They are the temporal, as well as the spiritual, superiors, and all the produce of the earth is confided to their management. The day is divided into seven hours of work and two of prayer, but four or five on Sundays and feast days, which are wholly devoted to rest and religious worship. Corporal punishments are inflicted on the Indians of both sexes who neglect their pious exercises, and many faults which in Europe are wholly left to divine justice, are here punished with irons or the log. In short, to complete the parallel with the religious communities, from the moment a neophyte is baptized, he seems to have taken an eternal vow. If he runs away and returns to his relations among the independent villages, he is summoned three times, and should he still refuse to come back, they apply to the authority of the governor, who sends a party of soldiers to tear him from the bosom of his family, and deliver him to the missions, where he is condemned to a certain number of lashes. Yet these people are so destitute of courage that they never oppose any resistance to the three or four soldiers who so glaringly violate the rights of nations in their persons. Thus is this custom, against which reason exclaims so loudly, continued merely because a number of theologians have chosen to decide that baptism shall not be administered to men of so much levity, unless the government become in some measure their sponsors, and engage for their perseverance in Christianity.

        The predecessor of Señor Rages, Don Felipe de Neve, commandant of the inland provinces of Mexico, who died four years since, was a man of great humanity, and a kind of Christian philosopher. That worthy man protested against this custom, thinking the progress of the Christian faith would be more rapid, and the prayers of the Indians more agreeable to the Supreme Being, if they were voluntary. He wished for a less monastic constitution, more civil liberty for the Indians, and less despotism in the executive power of the presidios, the administration of which might sometimes be placed in barbarous or avaricious hands. He thought it might even be necessary to moderate their authority by erecting a magistracy which should be as it were the tribunal of the Indians, and might have sufficient authority to protect them from oppression. Though this just man had borne arms in the defense of his country from his infancy, yet he was free from the prejudices of his profession, knowing that a military government is subject to great inconvenience when it is not tempered by an immediate authority. He ought, however, to have perceived the difficulty of maintaining his balance of three powers at so great a distance from the governor general of Mexico, since the missionaries, though so pious and so respectable, are already at open war with the governor, who appeared to me to be a meritorious officer.

        We were desirous of being present at the distribution made after each meal; and as every day is alike with these monastic kind of men, by delineating the history of a day, the reader will know that of the year.    

        The Indians, like the missionaries, rise with the sun, and then go to prayers and to mass, which lasts an hour. During this time three great caldrons of barley meal are boiled in the middle of the square, the grain having been roasted before it is ground. This mess, which the Indians call atole, and which they are very fond of, is neither seasoned with butter nor salt, and would be to us very insipid food.

        Each family sends for the allowance of all the inhabitants of their cottage, which they receive in a vessel of bark. There is no confusion or disorder in the distribution, and when the caldrons are empty, what cakes to the bottom is given to the children who say their catechism best.

        This repast continues three-quarters of an hour, after which they all go to work, some to plough with oxen, others to dig the garden, each according to the different labors requisite in the colony, and always under the superintendence of one or two monks.

        The women have little other employment than the conduct of household affairs, that of their children, and the roasting and grinding their grain. This operation is very long and tedious, because they have no other method than crushing it on a stone with a cylinder.  M. de Langle, observing this operation, presented his mill to the missionaries, than which we could scarcely have rendered them a greater service, for now four women can do the work of one hundred, and even have time to spin the wool from their flocks, and manufacture some coarse stuffs. Hitherto the monks, more occupied with their celestial than temporal concerns, have neglected to introduce the most common arts. They are even so austere with regard to themselves as not to have one chamber with a fireplace, though the winter is sometimes severe; nor did the strictest anchorites ever lead a more edifying life.

        At noon the bells ring for dinner, when the Indians quit their work, and send for their messes to the same caldron as at breakfast-time. This second broth, however, is thicker than the first, for besides the corn and maize, it contains peas and beans. The Indians call it poussole. They return to work from two o'clock till four or five, after which they go to evening prayers, which last near an hour, and are followed by another meal of atole, similar to their breakfast. Thus these distributions suffice for the subsistence of the majority of the Indians, and this very economical soup might, perhaps, be advantageously adopted in Europe in years of scarcity, with the addition of some kind of seasoning. But all the arts of cookery practiced here consist in roasting the grain before it is reduced into flour. As the Indians have no earthen or metal vessels for this operation, they perform it in baskets of bark over small lighted coals, turning them with so much adroitness and rapidity as to make the grain swell and burst, without burning the baskets, though composed of very combustible materials. We may even venture to affirm that the best roasted coffee does not approach the equality of roasting produced by the Indians. It is distributed to them every morning for this purpose, and the smallest infidelity in their return is punished by the lash, to which, however, they rarely expose themselves. These punishments are ordered by Indian magistrates, called caciques, of whom each mission has three, elected by the people from all those not disqualified by the missionaries. But to give a just idea of this magistracy, we shall observe that their caciques, like stewards of plantations, are mere passive beings, and blind executors of the will of their superiors, their principal functions being those of beadles, and maintaining good order and an air of seriousness in the church. The women are never flogged in the public square, but in a secret place, and at a distance, in order, perhaps, to prevent their cries exciting too lively a compassion, and thereby stimulating the men to revolt, whereas the men are exposed before all their fellow-citizens, that their punishment may serve as an example. In general they ask forgiveness, upon which the executioner diminishes the force of his strokes, but the number is always irrevocably fixed.

        Their rewards consist in small individual distributions of grain, of which they make small cakes, baked under the brazier; and on feast days their mess is of beef, which many eat raw, especially the fat, which they esteem equally delicious with the finest butter or the most excellent cheese. They skin all animals with the greatest address, and when they are fat, they croak with pleasure like a crow, devouring, at the same time, the parts they are most fond of, with their eyes.

        They are often suffered to hunt and fish for their own benefit, and at their return present the missionaries with some fish or game, proportioning the quantity to their precise wants, but increasing it if they know their superiors to have any additional guests. The women keep a few fowls round their huts, and give the eggs to their children. These fowls are the property of the Indians, as well as their clothes and other utensils, both domestic and for the chase. There is no example of their robbing one another, though they have no other door than a truss of straw laid across the entrance when all the family are absent.

        These manners will appear to some readers to belong to patriarchal ages, who may not consider that in these huts they have no objects capable of tempting the cupidity of their neighbors, for, their subsistence being secure, they can have no other object of desire but to give birth to beings destined to be equally stupid with themselves.

        The men have sacrificed more to Christianity than the women, for to them polygamy was allowed, and it was even the custom to marry all the sisters of a family. The women, therefore, have gained by it the exclusive enjoyment of their husband. But I confess that, notwithstanding the unanimous account given by the missionaries of this pretended polygamy, I never could conceive it possible among a nation of savages, for, the number of men and women being nearly equal, many of them must live in involuntary celibacy unless conjugal fidelity were less strictly observed than in the missions, where the monks have made themselves the guardians of the women's virtue. An hour after supper they shut up all those whose husbands are absent, as well as all girls above nine years old, and place them under the care of matrons during the day. Even these precautions are insufficient, for we saw men wearing the log, and women in irons, for having escaped the vigilance of these female arguses, whose eyes are inadequate to watch them.

        The converted Indians have preserved all the ancient customs not forbidden by their new religion—the same huts, the same games, the same dresses. The richest wear a cloak of otter-skin, which covers their loins and reaches below their middle. The least industrious only wear a piece of cloth furnished by the mission to cover their nakedness, and a little cloak of rabbit skin tied with a pack thread under the chin, which covers their shoulders and reaches to their loins, the rest of the body being naked, as well as the head; some, however, wear a straw hat extremely well matted.

        The women's dress consists of a cloak of stag's skin badly tanned. Those of the missions generally convert them into a little jacket with sleeves, which, with a small apron of rushes, and a petticoat of stag's skin, that covers their loins and reaches half down the legs, forms their whole attire. Young girls under nine years old have only a girdle, and the boys are totally naked.

        The hair of both men and women is cut four or five inches from the roots. The Indians of the rancherias, having no iron utensils, perform this operation with fire brands, and paint their bodies red, changing it to black when in mourning. The missionaries have proscribed the former, but have been obliged to tolerate the black, these people being so strongly attached to their friends as to shed tears when reminded even of those who have been long dead, and feeling offended if their names are inadvertently mentioned in their presence. But here family connections have less force than those of friendship, and children scarcely know their own father, deserting his hut as soon as they are able to provide for themselves. They retain, however, a more durable attachment to their mothers, who bring them up with the greatest tenderness, and only beat them when they show cowardice in their little battles with children of their own age.

        The old men of the rancherias who are no longer able to hunt, live at the joint expense of the whole village and are treated with general respect. Though the independent savages are very frequently at war, their fear of the Spaniards prevents their committing any outrages on the missions, which is, perhaps, not the least of the causes of the augmentation of the Christian village. Their aims are the bow and arrow pointed with a flint very skillfully worked, their bows being made of wood and strung with the nerve of an ox, and are very superior to those of the inhabitants of Port des Francais.

        We were assured these Indians neither ate their prisoners nor their enemies killed in war, although when they have conquered and put to death some chiefs and very brave men in the field of battle, they eat some morsels of their bodies, not so much to demonstrate their hatred and vengeance as to do homage to their valor, and from a belief that such food would increase their courage. Like the Canadians, they take off the scalp of the conquered, and tear out their eyes, which they have the art of preserving from corruption, keeping them as the most precious trophies of victory. They are accustomed to burn their dead and deposit their ashes in a morai.

        Two games employ all their leisure time. One is called takersia, and consists in throwing or rolling a small circle three inches in diameter, on an area ten toises square, clear from grass, and inclosed with fascines. Each party has a stick five feet long, of the size of an ordinary cane, on which they endeavor to catch the ring while in motion. If they succeed, they gain two points, but if they can only catch it at the end of its motion, they count one; and three points are the game. This play becomes a violent exercise, as the circle or the sticks are in constant action.

        The other game, called toussi, is less fatiguing, and is played by four hands, two on a side. Each party in turn hides a piece of wood in one hand, while his partner endeavors by a thousand gestures to engage the attention of the adversaries. It has a singular effect to a spectator to observe them squatting opposite each other in perfect silence, watching each other's countenance and the minutest circumstance that may assist them in guessing which hand conceals the piece of wood. They gain or lose a point according to their guess, and those who win have the next turn to hide. Five points make the game, and the stake usually consists of some beads, or, among the independent Indians, the favors of their wives. These last have no knowledge of a God or a future state, except some of the Southern nations, who had a confused idea on the subject before the arrival of the missionaries. They placed their paradise in the middle of the sea, where the good enjoyed a coolness never to be felt among their burning sands, while they imagined a hell situated in the hollows of the mountains.

        The missionaries, convinced, either by their prejudices or their experiences, that the reason of these men is never matured, deem this a sufficient motive for treating them as children, and only admit a very small number to the communion.  These individuals are the men of genius of their village, who, like Newton or Descartes, might have enlightened their countrymen and their age by teaching them that two and two make four, a calculation above the powers of a considerable number. The regulation of the missions is not likely to emancipate them from the reign of ignorance, where everything is merely directed to obtaining rewards of a future life, and the most common arts, even that of a village surgeon of France, wholly unexplored. Children frequently perish in consequence of hernias which the smallest degree of skill might cure, and our surgeons were happy in relieving, a few and teaching them the use of bandages in that disorder.

Transcribed by Kathy Sedler

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