CHAPTER XXXII

THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE MISSION INDIANS

The disastrous effect of the order of secularization upon the Indians,

as well as the Missions themselves, has been referred to in a special

chapter. Here I wish to give, in brief, a clearer idea of the present

condition of the Indians than was there possible. In the years 1833-1837

secularization actually was accomplished. The knowledge that it was

coming had already done much injury. The Pious Fund, which then amounted

to upwards of a half-million dollars, was confiscated by the Mexican

government. The officials said it was merely "borrowed." This

practically left the Indians to their own resources. A certain amount of

land and stock were to be given to each head of a family, and tools were

to be provided. Owing to the long distance between California and the

City of Mexico, there was much confusion as to how the changes should be

brought about. There have been many charges made, alleging that the

padres wilfully allowed the Mission property to go to ruin, when they

were deprived of its control. This ruin would better be attributed to

the general demoralization of the times than to any definite policy.

For it must be remembered that the political conditions of Mexico at

that time were most unsettled. None knew what a day or an hour might

bring forth. All was confusion, uncertainty, irresponsibility. And in

the _mêlée_ Mission property and Mission Indians suffered.

What was to become of the Indians? Imagine the father of a family--that

had no mother--suddenly snatched away, and all the property, garden,

granary, mill, storehouse, orchards, cattle, placed in other hands. What

would the children do?

So now the Indians, like bereft children, knew not what to do, and,

naturally, they did what our own children would do. Led by want and

hunger, some sought and found work and food, and others, alas, became

thieves. The Mission establishment was the organized institution that

had cared for them, and had provided the work that supported them. No

longer able to go and live "wildly" as of old, they were driven to evil

methods by necessity unless the new government directed their energies

into right channels. Few attempted to do this; hence the results that

were foreseen by the padres followed.

July 7, 1846, saw the Mexican flag in California hauled down, and the

Stars and Stripes raised in its place; but as far as the Indian was

concerned, the change was for the worse instead of the better. Indeed,

it may truthfully be said that the policies of the three governments,

Spanish, Mexican, and American, have shown three distinct phases, and

that the last is by far the worst.

Our treatment of these Indians reads like a hideous nightmare.

Absolutely no forceful and effective protest seems to have been made

against the indescribable wrongs perpetrated. The gold discoveries of

1849 brought into the country a class of adventurers, gamblers, liquor

sellers, and camp followers of the vilest description. The Indians

became helpless victims in the hands of these infamous wretches, and

even the authorities aided to make these Indians "good."

Bartlett, who visited the country in 1850 to 1853, tells of meeting with

an old Indian at San Luis Rey who spoke glowingly of the good times they

had when the padres were there, but "now," he said, "they were scattered

about, he knew not where, without a home or protectors, and were in a

miserable, starving condition." Of the San Francisco Indians he says:

"They are a miserable, squalid-looking set, squatting or

lying about the corners of the streets, without occupation.

They have now no means of obtaining a living, as their lands

are all taken from them; and the Missions for which they

labored, and which provided after a sort for many thousands

of them, are abolished. No care seems to be taken of them by

the Americans; on the contrary, the effort seems to be to

exterminate them as soon as possible."

According to the most conservative estimates there were over thirty

thousand Indians under the control of the Missions at the time of

secularization in 1833. To-day, how many are there? I have spent long

days in the different Mission localities, arduously searching for

Indians, but oftentimes only to fail of my purpose. In and about San

Francisco, there is not one to be found. At San Carlos Borromeo, in both

Monterey and the Carmelo Valley, except for a few half-breeds, no one of

Indian blood can be discovered. It is the same at San Miguel, San Luis

Obispo, and Santa Barbara. At Pala, that romantic chapel, where once the

visiting priest from San Luis Rey found a congregation of several

hundreds awaiting his ministrations, the land was recently purchased

from white men, by the United States Indian Commission, as a new home

for the evicted Palatingwa Indians of Warner's Ranch. These latter

Indians, in recent interviews with me, have pertinently asked: "Where

did the white men get this land, so they could sell it to the government

for us? Indians lived here many centuries before a white man had ever

seen the 'land of the sundown sea.' When the 'long-gowns' first came

here, there were many Indians at Pala. Now they are all gone. Where? And

how do we know that before long we shall not be driven out, and be gone,

as they were driven out and are gone?"

At San Luis Rey and San Diego, there are a few scattered families, but

very few, and most of these have fled far back into the desert, or to

the high mountains, as far as possible out of reach of the civilization

that demoralizes and exterminates them.

A few scattered remnants are all that remain.

Let us seek for the real reason why.

The system of the padres was patriarchal, paternal. Certain it is that

the Indians were largely treated as if they were children. No one

questions or denies this statement. Few question that the Indians were

happy under this system, and all will concede that they made wonderful

progress in the so-called arts of civilization. From crude savagery they

were lifted by the training of the fathers into usefulness and

productiveness. They retained their health, vigor, and virility. They

were, by necessity perhaps, but still undeniably, chaste, virtuous,

temperate, honest, and reasonably truthful. They were good fathers and

mothers, obedient sons and daughters, amenable to authority, and

respectful to the counsels of old age.

All this and more may unreservedly be said for the Indians while they

were under the control of the fathers. That there were occasionally

individual cases of harsh treatment is possible. The most loving and

indulgent parents are now and again ill-tempered, fretful, or nervous.

The fathers were men subject to all the limitations of other men.

Granting these limitations and making due allowance for human

imperfection, the rule of the fathers must still be admired for its

wisdom and commended for its immediate results.

Now comes the order of secularization, and a little later the domination

of the Americans. Those opposed to the control of the fathers are to set

the Indians free. They are to be "removed from under the irksome

restraint of cold-blooded priests who have held them in bondage not far

removed from slavery"!! They are to have unrestrained liberty, the

broadest and fullest intercourse with the great American people, the

white, Caucasian American, not the dark-skinned Mexican!!!

What was the result. Let an eye-witness testify:

"These thousands of Indians had been held in the most rigid

discipline by the Mission Fathers, and after their

emancipation by the Supreme Government of Mexico, had been

reasonably well governed by the local authorities, who found

in them indispensable auxiliaries as farmers and harvesters,

hewers of wood and drawers of water, and besides, the best

horse-breakers and herders in the world, necessary to the

management of the great herds of the country. These Indians

were Christians, docile even to servility, and excellent

laborers. Then came the Americans, followed soon after by the

discovery of, and the wild rush for, gold, and the relaxation

for the time being of a healthy administration of the laws.

The ruin of this once happy and useful people commenced. The

cultivators of vineyards began to pay their Indian _peons_

with _aguardiente_, a real 'firewater.' The consequence was

that on receiving their wages on Saturday evening, the

laborers habitually met in great gatherings and passed the

night in gambling, drunkenness, and debauchery. On Sunday the

streets were crowded from morning until night with

Indians,--males and females of all ages, from the girl of ten

or twelve to the old man and woman of seventy or eighty.

"By four o'clock on Sunday afternoon, Los Angeles Street,

from Commercial to Nigger Alley, Aliso Street from Los

Angeles to Alameda, and Nigger Alley, were crowded with a

mass of drunken Indians, yelling and fighting: men and women,

boys and girls using tooth and nail, and frequently knives,

but always in a manner to strike the spectator with horror.

"At sundown, the pompous marshal, with his Indian special

deputies, who had been confined in jail all day to keep them

sober, would drive and drag the combatants to a great corral

in the rear of the Downey Block, where they slept away their

intoxication. The following morning they would be exposed for

sale, as slaves for the week. Los Angeles had its slave-mart

as well as New Orleans and Constantinople,--only the slaves

at Los Angeles were sold fifty-two times a year, as long as

they lived, a period which did not generally exceed one, two,

or three years under the new dispensation. They were sold for

a week, and bought up by vineyard men and others at prices

ranging from one to three dollars, one-third of which was to

be paid to the _peon_ at the end of the week, which debt, due

for well-performed labor, was invariably paid in

_aguardiente,_ and the Indian made happy, until the following

Monday morning, he having passed through another Saturday

night and Sunday's saturnalia of debauchery and bestiality.

Those thousands of honest, useful people were absolutely

destroyed in this way."

In reference to these statements of the sale of the Indians as slaves,

it should be noted that the act was done under the cover of the law. The

Indian was "fined" a certain sum for his drunkenness, and was then

turned over to the tender mercies of the employer, who paid the fine.

Thus "justice" was perverted to the vile ends of the conscienceless

scoundrels who posed as "officers of the law."

Charles Warren Stoddard, one of California's sweetest poets, realized to

the full the mercenary treatment the Missions and the Indians had

received, and one of the latest and also most powerful poems he ever

wrote, "The Bells of San Gabriel," deals with this spoliation as a

theme. The poem first appeared in _Sunset Magazine, the Pacific

Monthly,_ and with the kind consent of the editor I give the

last stanza.

"Where are they now, O tower!

The locusts and wild honey?

Where is the sacred dower

That the Bride of Christ was given?

Gone to the wielders of power,

The misers and minters of money;

Gone for the greed that is their creed--

And these in the land have thriven.

What then wert thou, and what art now,

And wherefore hast thou striven?

REFRAIN

And every note of every bell

Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel!

In the tower that is left the tale to tell

Of Gabriel, the Archangel."

To-day, the total Indian population of Southern California is reported

as between two and three thousand. It is not increasing, and it is good

for the race that it is not. Until the incumbency by W.A. Jones of the

Indian Commissionership in Washington, there seems to have been little

or no attempt at effective protection of the Indians against the land

and other thefts of the whites. The facts are succinctly and powerfully

stated by Helen Hunt Jackson in her report to the government, and in her

_Glimpses of California and the Missions_. The indictment of churches,

citizens, and the general government, for their crime of supineness in

allowing our acknowledged wards to be seduced, cheated, and corrupted,

should be read by every honest American; even though it make his blood

seethe with indignation and his nerves quiver with shame.

In my larger work on this subject I published a table from the report of

the agent for the "Mission-Tule" Consolidated Agency, which is dated

September 25, 1903.

This is the official report of an agent whom not even his best friends

acknowledge as being over fond of his Indian charges, or likely to be

sentimental in his dealings with them. What does this report state? Of

twenty-eight "reservations"--and some of these include several Indian

villages--it announces that the lands of eight are yet "not patented."

In other words, that the Indians are living upon them "on sufferance."

Therefore, if any citizen of the United States, possessed of sufficient

political power, so desired, the lands could be restored to the public

domain. Then, not even the United States Supreme Court could hold them

for the future use and benefit of the Indians.

On five of these reservations the land is "desert," and in two cases,

"subject to intense heat" (it might be said, to 150 degrees, and even

higher in the middle of summer); in one case there is "little water for

irrigation."

In four cases it is "poor land," with "no water," and in another

instance there are "worthless, dry hills;" in still another the soil is

"almost worthless for lack of water!"

In one of the desert cases, where there are five villages, the

government has supplied "water in abundance for irrigation and domestic

use, from artesian wells." Yet the land is not patented, and the Indians

are helpless, if evicted by resolute men.

At Cahuilla, with a population of one hundred fifty-five, the report

says, "mountain valley; stock land and little water. Not patented."

At Santa Isabel, including Volcan, with a population of two hundred

eighty-four, the reservation of twenty-nine thousand eight hundred

forty-four acres is patented, but the report says it is "mountainous;

stock land; no water."

At San Jacinto, with a population of one hundred forty-three, the two

thousand nine hundred sixty acres are "mostly poor; very little water,

and not patented."

San Manuel, with thirty-eight persons, has a patent for six hundred

forty acres of "worthless, dry hills."

Temecula, with one hundred eighty-one persons, has had allotted to its

members three thousand three hundred sixty acres, which area, however,

is "almost worthless for lack of water."

Let us reflect upon these things! The poor Indian is exiled and expelled

from the lands of his ancestors to worthless hills, sandy desert,

grazing lands, mostly poor and mountainous land, while our powerful

government stands by and professes its helplessness to prevent the evil.

These discouraging facts are enough to make the just and good men who

once guided the republic rise from their graves. Is there a remnant of

honor, justice, or integrity, left among our politicians?

There is one thing this government should have done, could have done,

and might have done, and it is to its discredit and disgrace that it did

not do it; that is, when the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo transferred the

Indians from the domination of Mexico to that of the United States,

this government "of, for, and by" the people, should have recognized the

helplessness of its wards and not passed a law of which they could not

by any possibility know, requiring them to file on their lands, but it

should have appointed a competent guardian of their moral and legal

rights, taking it for granted that _occupancy of the lands of their

forefathers would give them a legal title which would hold forever

against all comers_.

In all the Spanish occupation of California it is doubtful whether one

case ever occurred where an Indian was driven off his land.

In rendering a decision on the Warner's Ranch Case the United States

Supreme Court had an opportunity offered it, once for all to settle the

status of all American Indians. Had it familiarized itself with the laws

of Spain, under which all Spanish grants were made, it would have found

that the Indian was always considered first and foremost in all grants

of lands made. He must be protected in his right; it was inalienable. He

was helpless, and therefore the officers of the Crown were made

responsible for his protection. If subordinate officers failed, then the

more urgent the duty of superior officers. Therefore, even had a grant

been made of Warner's Ranch in which the grantor purposely left out the

recognition of the rights of the Indians, the highest Spanish courts

would not have tolerated any such abuse of power. This was an axiom of

Spanish rule, shown by a hundred, a thousand precedents. Hence it

should have been recognized by the United States Supreme Court. It is

good law, but better, it is good sense and common justice, and this is

especially good when it protects the helpless and weak from the powerful

and strong.

In our dealings with the Indians in our school system, we are making the

mistake of being in too great a hurry. A race of aborigines is not

raised into civilization in a night. It will be well if it is done in

two or three generations.

Contrast our method with that followed by the padres. Is there any

comparison? Yes! To our shame and disgrace. The padres kept fathers and

mothers and children together, at least to a reasonable degree. Where

there were families they lived--as a rule--in their own homes near the

Missions. Thus there was no division of families. On the other hand, we

have wilfully and deliberately, though perhaps without _malice

aforethought_ (although the effect has been exactly the same as if we

had had malice), separated children from their parents and sent them a

hundred, several hundred, often two or three _thousand_ miles away from

home, there to receive an education often entirely inappropriate and

incompetent to meet their needs. And even this sending has not always

been honorably done. _Vide_ the United States Indian Commissioner's

report for 1900. He says:

"These pupils are gathered from the cabin, the wickiup, and

the tepee. _Partly by cajolery and partly by threats; partly

by bribery and partly by fraud; partly by persuasion and

partly by force_, they are induced to leave their homes and

their kindred to enter these schools and take upon themselves

the outward semblance of civilized life. They are chosen not

on account of any particular merit of their own, not by

reason of mental fitness, but solely because they have Indian

blood in their veins. Without regard to their worldly

condition; without any previous training; without any

preparation whatever, they are transported to the

schools--sometimes thousands of miles away--without the

slightest expense or trouble to themselves or their people.

"The Indian youth finds himself at once, as if by magic,

translated from a state of poverty to one of affluence. He is

well fed and clothed and lodged. Books and all the

accessories of learning are given him and teachers provided

to instruct him. He is educated in the industrial arts on the

one hand, and not only in the rudiments but in the liberal

arts on the other. Beyond the three r's he is instructed in

geography, grammar, and history; he is taught drawing,

algebra and geometry, music and astronomy and receives

lessons in physiology, botany, and entomology. Matrons wait

on him while he is well, and physicians and nurses attend him

when he is sick. A steam laundry does his washing, and the

latest modern appliances do his cooking. A library affords

him relaxation for his leisure hours, athletic sports and the

gymnasium furnish him exercise and recreation, while music

entertains him in the evening. He has hot and cold baths, and

steam heat and electric light, and all the modern

conveniences. All the necessities of life are given him, and

many of the luxuries. All of this without money and without

price, or the contribution of a single effort of his own or

of his people. His wants are all supplied almost for the

wish. The child of the wigwam becomes a modern Aladdin, who

has only to rub the government lamp to gratify his desires.

"Here he remains until his education is finished, when he is

returned to his home--which by contrast must seem squalid

indeed--to the parents whom his education must make it

difficult to honor, and left to make his way against the

ignorance and bigotry of his tribe. Is it any wonder he

fails? Is it surprising if he lapses into barbarism? Not

having earned his education, it is not appreciated; having

made no sacrifice to obtain it, it is not valued. It is

looked upon as a right and not as a privilege; It is accepted

as a favor to the government and not to the recipient, and

the almost inevitable tendency is to encourage dependency,

foster pride, and create a spirit of arrogance and

selfishness. The testimony on this point of those closely

connected with the Indian employees of the service would, it

is believe, be interesting."

So there the matter stands. Nothing of any great importance was really

done to help the Indians except the conferences at Mohonk, N.Y., until,

in 1902, the Sequoya League was organized, composed of many men and

women of national prominence, with the avowed purpose "to make better

Indians." In its first pronunciamento it declared:

"The first struggle will be not to arouse sympathy but to

inform with slow patience and long wisdom the wide-spread

sympathy which already exists. We cannot take the Indians out

of the hands of the National Government; we cannot take the

National Government into our own hands. Therefore we must

work with the National Government in any large plan for the

betterment of Indian conditions.

"The League means, in absolute good faith, not to fight, but

to assist the Indian Bureau. It means to give the money of

many and the time and brains and experience of more than a

few to honest assistance to the Bureau in doing the work for

which it has never had either enough money or enough

disinterested and expert assistance to do in the best way the

thing it and every American would like to see done."

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