When the Civil War was nearly over, General Heintzelman accompanied me
on a call at the executive mansion, to solicit the organization of a
territorial government for Arizona.
President Lincoln listened to my tale of woe like a martyr, and finally
said, "Well, you must see Ben Wade about that."
I subsequently called upon Senator Wade of Ohio, the chairman of the
Committee on Territories, and repeated my story of Arizona.
The bluff old Senator said, "O, yes, I have heard of that country,--it
is just like hell--all it lacks is water and good society."
He finally consented to attend a meeting at the President's, to discuss
the subject.
Ashley of Ohio was chairman of the Committee on Territories in the
House, and readily agreed to favor the organization of a territorial
government. In a few days President Lincoln appointed an evening, to
hear the Delegation in favor of Arizona from 8 to 12. The chairmen of
the committees on Territories attended, and General Heintzelman and some
other friends were present. I presented the maps, historical data, some
specimens of minerals and Indian relics, and after a long conference and
some interesting stories by the President, the organization of a
territorial government for Arizona was agreed upon.
The country was at that time under martial law,--General Carlton. If any
system of government is repellent to Americans it is martial law.
Whatever may be the expense of juries, lawyers, witnesses, and courts,
they form the only means civilized society has yet devised for the
settlement of disputes. It is true that a territorial form of government
was never contemplated by the framers of the Constitution, as no
provision was made for such a form of government; but this omission is
covered by the general welfare clause, which gives Congress the power to
"provide for the general welfare."
The formula adopted in an Act of Congress organizing a Territory, is "An
Act to provide a provisional government, etc., etc., etc." In course of
time, no doubt, all the Territories will be admitted as States, as the
territorial form of government is not provided for as a permanency by
the Constitution, and is moreover anomalous in the American system. The
people residing in the Territories are to a considerable extent
disfranchised politically, and are not, in fact, full-fledged American
citizens. The idea of taxation without representation is irritating to
their sense of justice, and for many other cogent reasons Congress will
be forced by public opinion to admit the Territories to all the rights
of sovereign States.
The delegate from New Mexico and myself sat at a table, and drew up a
bill dividing New Mexico into nearly equal parts by the hundred and
eleventh degree of longitude west; and providing for the organization of
"The Territory of Arizona" from the western half. The bill soon became
an Act of Congress, and was approved by President Lincoln on the
twenty-third of February, 1863.
The offices were divided out among the supporters of the measure at an
oyster supper, and as I was apparently to get nothing but the shells, I
fortified myself with a drink, and exclaimed, "Well, gentlemen, what is
to become of me?"
They seemed not to have thought about that, and the Governor-elect said:
"O, we will give you charge of the Indians, you are acquainted with
them."
So I was appointed "Superintendent of Indian Affairs." The salary of the
office was two thousand dollars a year, payable in greenbacks worth
about thirty-three cents on the dollar in the currency of Arizona.
Arrangements were made for the transportation of my new colleagues
across the plains at government expense; but I took Ben Holladay's coach
at Kansas City, and crossed the continent to Sacramento, and thence by
river steamer to San Francisco. The Indian goods had been shipped to
Yuma.
In San Francisco I met my old friend, J. Ross Browne, who had just
returned from Europe, and invited him to accompany me through Arizona at
my expense. He afterwards wrote an account of the journey, "Wanderings
in the Apache Country," published by Harpers.
Archbishop Alemany, whom I had known as a parish priest in Kentucky,
called upon me in San Francisco, and asked if I would take a couple of
priests down to Arizona, to restore the service among the Indians at
the old Mission of San Xavier del Bac on the Santa Cruz, to which I
assented with great pleasure.
After a voyage by sea from San Francisco to Los Angeles, I presented my
orders from the Secretary of War to the commanding officer at Drumm
Barracks for an escort of cavalry and transportation to Arizona; and
prepared for the journey across the Colorado Desert.
We arrived at Yuma just before Christmas, and during Christmas week
regaled the Yumas, Cocopas, and neighboring tribes of Indians with their
first presents from Uncle Sam. After distributing the Indian goods at
Yuma, we proceeded upon the Gila River some two hundred miles to the
Pima village, where my old friends, the Pima Indians, gave a warm
welcome, not entirely on account of the Indian goods.
At the Pima villages one Sunday, I requested the priests to celebrate
the mass, and tell the Indians something about God,--remembering my own
failure in teaching theology. The troops were drawn up, the Indians
assembled, and Father Bosco through my interpreter preached the first
sermon the Pima Indians ever heard.
At dinner, the good Father took me by the ear, and said, "What for you
make me preach to these savages?--they squat on the ground, and laugh
at me like monkeys."
The next place for the distribution of Indian goods was at the Mission
of San Xavier del Bac, three leagues south of Tucson, among the Papagos,
a christianized branch of the great Pima tribe. The Papago chiefs were
my old friends and acquaintances, and received the priests with
fireworks and illuminations. They knew of our coming, and had swept the
church and grounds clean, and ornamented the altar with mistletoe.