whom about one-half are married. All these men are governed by three
monks, and guarded by four soldiers and a subaltern officer. Since this
force is found sufficient, it follows either that the Indians of the
mission are happier than their free countrymen, or that, no way superior
to the domestic animals, they are chained by their instincts to the
place where their food is provided. The first supposition can hardly be
well founded. Hard labour every day, Sundays only excepted, when labour
is superseded by prayer; corporal chastisement, imprisonment, and
fetters on the slightest demonstration of disobedience; unwholesome
nourishment, miserable lodging, deprivation of all property, and of all
the enjoyments of life:--these are not boons which diffuse content. Many
indeed of these unfortunate victims prove, by their attempts to escape,
that their submission is involuntary; but the soldiers, as I have before
observed, generally hunt them from their place of refuge, and bring them
back to undergo the severe punishment their transgression has incurred.
To the most stupid apathy, then, must the patience of these Indians be
ascribed; and in this, their distinguishing characteristic, they exceed
every race of men I have ever known, not excepting the degraded natives
of Terra del Fuego, or Van Diemen's Land.
The Christian religion, or what the monks are pleased to call by that
name, has given no beneficial spur to their minds. How indeed could it
act upon their confined understandings, when their teachers were almost
wholly deficient in the necessary means of communicating knowledge,--an
acquaintance with their language? I have since had opportunities of
observing the free Indians, who appear less stupid, and in many respects
more civilized, than the proselytes of the _gente rationale_, as the
Spaniards here call themselves; and I am convinced that the system of
instruction and discipline adopted by the monks, has certainly tended
to degrade even these step-children of Nature. If to raise them to the
rank of intellectual beings had been really the object in view, rather
than making them the mock professors of a religion they are incapable of
understanding, they should have been taught the arts of agriculture and
architecture, and the method of breeding cattle; they should have been
made proprietors of the land they cultivated, and should have freely
enjoyed its produce. Had this been done, _los barbaros_ might soon have
stood on a level with the _gente rationale_.
There are in California many different races of Indians, whose languages
vary so much from each other, as sometimes to have scarcely any
resemblance; in the single mission of Santa Clara more than twenty
languages are spoken. These races are all alike ugly, stupid, dirty, and
disgusting: they are of a middle size, weak, and of a blackish colour;
they have flat faces, thick lips, broad negro-noses, scarcely any
foreheads, and black, coarse, straight hair. The powers of their mind
lie yet profoundly dormant; and La Pérouse does not perhaps exaggerate
when he affirms, that if any one among them can be made to comprehend
that twice two make four, he may pass, in comparison with his
countrymen, for a Descartes or a Newton. To most of them, this important
arithmetical proposition would certainly be perfectly incomprehensible.
In their wild state, all these Indians lead a wandering life. It is only
recently that they have begun to build huts of underwood, which they
burn whenever they remove from the spot. The chase is their sole
occupation and means of subsistence. Hence their skill in shooting with
arrows has cost many Spanish lives. They lie in wait at night, in the
forests and mountains, watching for game.
Agriculture, as I have before observed, is the copious source of revenue
to the monks, and they farm on an extensive scale. The yearly crop of
wheat at Santa Clara alone, produces three thousand fanegos, about six
hundred and twenty English quarters, or three thousand four hundred
Berlin bushels; and from the extraordinary fertility of the soil, the
harvest, on an average, is forty-fold, notwithstanding the roughness of
their mode of cultivation. The field is first broken up with a very
clumsy plough, then sown, and a second ploughing completes the work.
Under the hard clods of earth thus left undisturbed, a great part of the
seed perishes of course. How unexampled would be the harvest, if
assisted by the capital and industry of an European farmer!
The monks themselves confess that they are not good agriculturists; but
they are content with their harvests. Their carelessness is however
unpardonable, in having never yet erected a mill. There is not one in
all California; and the poor Indians are obliged to grind their corn by
manual labour between two large, flat stones.
From the mission we took half an hour's walk to a _Pueblo_. This word
signifies, in California, a village, inhabited by married invalids,
disbanded soldiers from the Presidio, and their progeny. This Pueblo
lies in a beautiful spot. The houses are pleasant, built of stone, and
stand in the midst of orchards, and hedges of vines bearing luxuriant
clusters of the richest grapes. The inhabitants came out to meet us,
and with much courteousness, blended with the ceremonious politeness of
the Spaniards, invited us to enter their simple but cleanly dwellings.
All their countenances bespoke health and contentment, and they have
good cause to rejoice in their lot. Unburthened by taxes of any kind,
and in possession of as much land as they choose to cultivate, they live
free from care on the rich produce of their fields and herds.
The population of these Pueblos is every year on the increase; while, on
the contrary, the numbers of the Indians dependent on the missions are
continually decreasing. The mortality amongst the latter is so great,
that the establishments could not continue, if their spiritual
conductors did not constantly procure fresh recruits from amongst the
free Indians, to fill the thinning ranks of their labourers.
In Old California, many of the missions have gone to decay on account of
the total extermination of the savages. The north still affords an
abundant supply to New California; but if the missionaries do not
economize the lives of their men more than they have hitherto done, this
source also will in time be exhausted. Meanwhile the Pueblos will
continue to multiply, and will become the origins of a new and improved
population.
After passing three days with the monks of Santa Clara, who at least
possess the virtue of hospitality, we set out on our return with a
provision of fruit and vegetables, purchased for very fair prices. They
were carried to the place of embarkation on heavy and very badly
constructed cars drawn by oxen: the wheels were made of thick planks
nailed together, without any regard to mechanical science either in
their form or poizing; and the machine slowly advanced with a difficult
jolting motion very prejudicial to our fine melons, peaches, grapes, and
figs, and to the magnificent apples, which have no equals in Europe. On
reaching our Barcasse, we found all in readiness to receive ourselves
and cargo. The sailors had been much disturbed in the night by the
wolves.
The ebb-tide favoured our navigation, and soon brought us within sight
of an arm of the sea, stretching eastward, at the extremity of which the
mission of St. José was built in the year 1797, on a very fertile spot.
It is already one of the richest in California, and a Pueblo has arisen
in its neighbourhood; the only Pueblo on the Bay of St. Francisco,
except that near Santa Clara. Between St. José and Santa Clara a road
has lately been made which may be traversed on horseback in about two
hours.
Soon after our return to the ship, a monk was observed riding along the
shore in company with a dragoon, and making signs with his large hat,
that he wished to come on board. We sent the boat for him, and a little,
thin, lively, and loquacious Spaniard introduced himself as the Padre
Thomas of the mission of St. Francisco, and offered, for a good
remuneration, to furnish us daily with fresh provisions, besides two
bottles of milk. He boasted not a little of being the only man in the
whole Bay of St. Francisco who had succeeded, after overcoming many
difficulties and obstacles, in obtaining milk from cows, of which he had
a numerous herd. As the Presidio could not supply our wants, and the
mission of Santa Clara lay too far off, we were very willing to accede
to Padre Thomas's wish; and he left us with an invitation to visit him
the following noon.
Accordingly, several of my officers and myself rode the next day to the
mission of St. Francisco, which I have described in the account of my
former voyage, and which has remained pretty much in the same state ever
since. The jovial Father Thomas was now the only monk in the mission,
and, consequently, at its head; he entertained us in a very friendly
manner, and with considerable expense.
The repast consisted of a great number of dishes, strongly seasoned with
garlic and pepper, and plenty of very tolerable wine of the Padre's own
vintage; it was animated by music, partly the performance of some little
naked Indian boys, upon bad fiddles, and partly of the venerable father
himself on a barrel organ which stood near him. The fruits for the
dessert were procured from the mission of Santa Clara, as the mists from
the sea prevent their ripening at St. Francisco.
Some guns from the Presidio, fired with the powder that remained after
returning our salute, one morning announced the arrival of Don Ignatio
Martinez, the commandant, who, after the breaking up of the congress at
Monterey, had returned to his post. With him came also the commandant of
the Presidio St. Diego, Don José Maria Estudillo, whom I had before
known. They visited me, accompanied by Sanchez, dined with me on board,
and were so well entertained, that they did not take leave of us till
late at night.
Indispensable business now summoned me to the establishment of the
Russian-American Company called Ross, which lies about eighty miles
north of St. Francisco. I had for some time been desirous of performing
the journey by land, but the difficulties had appeared insurmountable.
Without the assistance of the commandant, it certainly could not have
been accomplished; I was therefore glad to avail myself of his friendly
disposition towards me to make the attempt. We required a number of
horses and a military escort; the latter to serve us at once as guides,
and as a protection against the savages. Both these requests were
immediately granted; and Don Estudillo himself offered to command our
escort.
My companions on this journey were Dr. Eschscholz, Mr. Hoffman, two of
my officers, two sailors, Don Estudillo, and four dragoons, making
altogether a party of twelve. On the evening previous to the day for our
departure, Estudillo came to the ship with his four dragoons, the latter
well armed, and accoutred in a panoply of leather. He himself, in the
old Spanish costume, with a heavy sword, still heavier spurs, a dagger
and pistols in his belt, and a staff in his hand, was a good
personification of an adventurer of the olden time. He assured us that
we could not be too cautious, since we should pass through a part of the
country inhabited by "_los Indianos bravos_:" we therefore also made a
plentiful provision of arms, and were ready, as soon as the first beams
of morning glimmered on the tops of the mountains, to set forward in our
barcasse for the mission of St. Gabriel, lying on the northern shore of
the bay, whence our land journey was to commence.
The weather was beautiful, the wind perfectly still, and the air
enchantingly mild. An Indian named Marco, whom Estudillo had brought
with him, served us as pilot; for the Spaniards here, incapable, either
through indolence or ignorance, of discharging that office, always
employ an experienced Indian at the helm.
Don Estudillo, although advanced in life, was a very cheerful companion,
and one of the most enlightened Spaniards I have met with in California.
He piqued himself a little on his literary acquirements, and mentioned
having read three books besides Don Quixote and Gil Blas, whilst, as he
assured me in confidence, the rest of his countrymen here had hardly
ever seen any other book than the Bible. Marco had grown grey in the
mission: on account of his usefulness, he had been in many respects
better treated than most of the Indians: he spoke Spanish with tolerable
fluency; and when Estudillo endeavoured to exercise his wit upon him,
often embarrassed him not a little by his repartees. This Marco affords
a proof that, under favourable circumstances, the minds even of the
Indians of California are susceptible of improvement; but these
examples are rare in the missions.
Don Estudillo spoke with much freedom of the affairs of California,
where he had resided thirty years: like most of his comrades, he was no
friend to the clergy. He accused them of consulting only their own
interest, and of employing their proselytes as a means of laying up
wealth for themselves, with which, when acquired, they return to Spain.
He described to us their method of conversion. The monks, he said, send
dragoons into the mountains to catch the free heathens, that they may
convert them into Christian slaves. For this species of chase, the
huntsman is provided with a strong leathern noose fastened to his
saddle, long enough to throw to a great distance, and acquires such
dexterity in the practice as seldom to miss his aim. As soon as he
perceives a troop of Indians, he throws his noose over one of them
before he has time to defend himself, then setting spurs to his horse,
rides back to the mission with his prisoner, and is fortunate if he
bring him there alive. I can myself bear witness to the skill and
boldness of the dragoons, in the management of their horses, and in the
use of the noose, with which two or three of them in conjunction will
catch even bears and wild bulls; a single man is sufficient to capture
an Indian.
Estudillo declared that no Indian ever presents himself voluntarily at
the missions, but that they are all either hunted in the manner above
described, or tricked out of their liberty by some artifice of the
monks. For this purpose, some few in every mission are extremely well
treated, as for instance our pilot Marco. These are from time to time
sent into distant parts of the country to exert their eloquence on their
countrymen, and entice them to the missions. Once there, they are
immediately baptized, and they then become for ever the property of the
monks.
To my observation, that affairs would now probably assume a different
aspect, as the arbitrary dominion of the clergy, and the dependence of
the military upon them were equally terminated, Estudillo replied, that
California might certainly become a powerful state,--that she was
abundantly provided by nature with all that was requisite to her
political aggrandizement, but that she needed a man of ability in her
councils. "Don Louis Arguello," said he, "is not the man to
re-invigorate our radically disordered finances, to introduce a
wholesome subordination, without which no government can flourish, and
to establish a constitution upon which our future tranquillity and
improvement may be founded. Our soldiers are all of one mind; whoever
pays them the arrears due from the Spanish government is their master;
he purchases them, and to him they belong. Induced by a knowledge of
this disposition, Mexico has entered into negotiations with us; and the
question whether California shall exist as an independent state, or
place herself under the protection of another power, has been
particularly discussed at the late congress at Monterey, and is still
undecided."
I confess I could not help speculating upon the benefit this country
would derive from becoming a province of our powerful empire, and how
useful it would prove to Russia. An inexhaustible granary for
Kamtschatka, Ochotsk, and all the settlements of the American Company;
these regions, so often afflicted with a scarcity of corn, would derive
new life from a close connection with California.
The sun rose in full magnificence from behind the mountain, at the
moment when, emerging from between the islands which divide the northern
from the southern half of the bay, an extensive mirror of water opened
upon our view. The mission of St. Gabriel, the first stage of our
journey, formed a distinguished object in the background of the
prospect, sloping up the sides of the hills, the intervening flat land
lying so low that it was not yet within our horizon. We had also a
distant view towards the north-west of another newly founded mission,
that of St. Francisco Salona, the only one situated on the northern
shore of the bay except St. Gabriel.
The country at this side of the bay, chiefly characterised by gently
swelling hills, the park-like grouping of the trees, and the lively
verdure of the meadows, is as agreeable to the eye as that of the
southern coast. The water is pure and wholesome, which that at the
Presidio is not; we therefore laid in our ship's store here.
The whole Bay of St. Francisco, in which thousands of ships might lie at
anchor, is formed by nature for an excellent harbour; but the little
creeks about the north-west coast, now lying to our left, and which I
have since frequently visited, are especially advantageous for repairs,
being so deep that the largest vessels can lie conveniently close to the
land; and an abundance of the finest wood for ship-building, even for
the tallest masts, is found in the immediate neighbourhood. The whole of
the northern part of the bay, which does not properly belong to
California, but is assigned by geographers to New Albion, has hitherto
remained unvisited by voyagers, and little known even to the Spaniards
residing in the country. Two large navigable rivers, which I afterwards
surveyed, empty themselves into it, one from the north, the other from
the east. The land is extremely fruitful, and the climate is perhaps the
finest and most healthy in the world. It has hitherto been the fate of
these regions, like that of modest merit or humble virtue, to remain
unnoticed; but posterity will do them justice; towns and cities will
hereafter flourish where all is now desert; the waters, over which
scarcely a solitary boat is yet seen to glide, will reflect the flags
of all nations; and a happy, prosperous people receiving with
thankfulness what prodigal Nature bestows for their use, will disperse
her treasures over every part of the world.
A fresh and favourable wind brought us, without much delay from the
opposing ebb-tide, to the northern shore. We left the common embouchure
of its two principal rivers, distinguished by the steepness of their
banks to the right, and rowing up the narrow channel which has formed
itself through the marsh land, reached our landing-place just as the
sun's disk touched the blue summits of the mountains in the west.
We were still distant a good nautical mile from the mission of St.
Gabriel, which peeped from amongst the foliage of its ancient oaks. Many
horses belonging to the mission were grazing on a beautiful meadow by
the water-side, in perfect harmony with a herd of small deer, which are
very numerous in this country. Our dragoons, who had no inclination for
a long walk, took their _lassos_ in hand, and soon caught us as many
horses as we wanted. We had brought our saddles with us, and a
delightful gallop across the plain carried us to St. Gabriel, where we
were received in a very hospitable manner by the only monk in residence.
The locality of this mission, founded in 1816, is still better chosen
than that of the celebrated Santa Clara. A mountain shelters it from the
injurious north-wind; but the same mountain serves also as a
hiding-place and bulwark for the _Indianos bravos_, who have already
once succeeded in burning the buildings of the mission, and still keep
the monks continually on the watch against similar depredations. In
fact, St. Gabriel has quite the appearance of an outpost for the defence
of the other missions.
The garrison, _six men_ strong, is always ready for service on the
slightest alarm. Having been driven from my bed at night by the vermin,
I saw two sentinels, fully armed, keeping guard towards the mountain,
each of them beside a large fire; every two minutes they rang a bell
which was hung between two pillars, and were regularly answered by the
howling of the little wolf I have before spoken of, as often lurking in
the vicinity of the missions. That there is not much to fear from other
enemies, is sufficiently proved by the small number of soldiers kept,
and the total neglect of all regular means of defence. The courage of
these _bravos_ seems indeed principally to consist in unwillingness to
be caught, in flying with all speed to their hiding-places when pursued,
and in setting fire to any property of the missions when they can find
an opportunity of doing so unobserved. We saw here several of these
heroes working patiently enough with irons on their feet, and in no way
distinguishable in manners or appearance from their brethren of St.
Francisco or Santa Clara.
With the first rays of the sun we mounted our horses, and having passed
the valley of St. Gabriel, and the hill which bounds it, our guide led
us in a north-westerly direction further into the interior. The fine,
light, and fertile soil we rode upon was thickly covered with rich
herbage, and the luxuriant trees stood in groups as picturesque as if
they had been disposed by the hand of taste. We met with numerous herds
of small stags, so fearless, that they suffered us to ride fairly into
the midst of them, but then indeed darted away with the swiftness of an
arrow. We sometimes also, but less frequently, saw another species of
stag, as large as a horse, with branching antlers; these generally graze
on hills, from whence they can see round them on all sides, and appear
much more cautious than the small ones. The Indians, however, have their
contrivances to take them. They fasten a pair of the stag's antlers on
their heads, and cover their bodies with his skin; then crawling on
all-fours among the high grass, they imitate the movements of the
creature while grazing; the herd, mistaking them for their fellows,
suffer them to approach without suspicion, and are not aware of the
treachery till the arrows of the disguised foes have thinned their
number.
Towards noon the heat became so oppressive, that we were obliged to halt
on the summit of a hill: we reposed under the shade of some thick and
spreading oaks, while our horses grazed and our meal was preparing.
During our rest, we caught a glimpse of a troop of Indians skulking
behind some bushes at a distance; our dragoons immediately seized their
arms, but the savages disappeared without attempting to approach us. In
a few hours we proceeded on our journey, through a country, which
presenting no remarkable object to direct our course, excited my
astonishment at the local memory of our guide, who had traversed it but
once before. Two great shaggy white wolves, hunting a herd of small
deer, fled in terror on our appearance, and we had the gratification of
saving the pretty animals for this time. In several places we saw little
cylindrically-shaped huts of underwood, which appeared to have been
recently quitted by Indians, and sometimes we even found the still
glimmering embers of a fire; it is therefore probable that the savages
were often close to us when we were not aware of it; but they always
took care to conceal themselves from the much dreaded dragoons and their
lassos.
In the evening we reached a little mountain brook, which, after winding
through a ravine, falls into the sea at Port Romanzow, or Bodega. It was
already dark, and though but ten miles distance from Ross, we were
obliged to pass the chill and foggy night not very agreeably on this
spot. In the morning we forded the shallow stream, and as we proceeded,
found in the bold, wild features of the scene a striking difference from
the smiling valleys through which we had travelled on the preceding day.
The nearer we drew to the coast, the more abrupt became the precipices
and the higher the rocks, which were overgrown with larch even to their
peaked summits.