LOWER CALIFORNIA.
The territory of Lower California (California Baja) has been so much
misrepresented, that although partially foreign to the object of this
work, I consider it may not be uninteresting to learn something of a
country which, I am satisfied, will one day create almost as much
excitement in the old world as her northern sister has already done. A
residence of six months upon the gulf of California entirely changed the
opinion I had previously entertained of the country, which had been
based upon reports of those who had merely sailed up or down its rugged
coast. It has been described as the “tail end of an earthquake,”--as
possessing a soil upon which nothing could be grown, a hot and sickly
climate, and containing no internal resources of value.
Lower California extends from Cape St. Lucas to a line running one
marine league south of San Diego, being bounded on the west by the
Pacific Ocean, and on the east by the gulf of California. I went to
Lower California in the full anticipation of living a miserable life for
the time it would be necessary for me to remain there. But how much was
I surprised, on landing in La Paz, on the afternoon of July 21st, 1847,
to find the prettiest town I had then seen in California. The streets
were lined with willow trees, which, meeting overhead, formed an arch,
affording a delicious shade at midday. The houses were all of _adobe_,
plastered white, and thatched with the leaves of the palm-tree, and were
most delightfully cool. The whole beach was lined with palms, date, fig,
tamarind, and cocoanut trees, their delicious fruits hanging upon them
in clusters.
The detachment of the 7th regiment of New York Volunteers, which was
ordered to La Paz, consisted of two companies, “A” and “B,” under
command of Lieut. Col. Henry S. Burton. When we arrived, we found that
country in a quiet state; and although no American force had ever been
stationed there, the inhabitants appeared very much pleased at our
arrival, and manifested no hostility toward us. Our orders were to take
possession of, and hold the country; and in accordance with these we
landed, and pitched our camp in the plaza, previous to removing into a
large barrack, which was not then quite completed. When our men were
fairly barracked, the officers were allowed to live in rooms in the
town, and select such places as they chose. I found a room in the house
of Don Francisco Silva, a Portuguese, who had lived long in the country,
and owned the finest vineyard and fruit-garden in the town. Here I lived
in a style of Eastern luxuriance. Never before did I, and never shall I
desire to enjoy life in greater perfection than I did there. My room was
in the rear of the house, and fronting upon a garden filled with
grape-vines, fig, orange, lime, banana, and pomegranate trees, loaded
with fruit. I slept in a swinging cot, surrounded by a silken canopy, as
a protection from mosquitoes; and often have I taken my cot, swung it
before the limbs of a large fig-tree, and slept beneath that clear,
unclouded sky, rocked to slumber by the delightful evening land-breeze.
In the morning, before breakfast, I would pick from the limbs and eat a
few dozens of ripe, fresh figs, by way of giving me an appetite. But the
most delicious portion of this delicious life was the bathing. In the
centre of the garden was a large stone reservoir, kept continually
filled with water, and used for the purpose of irrigation. Into this I
would jump at noon, and, standing upon the stony bottom, could gather
big clusters of grapes, hanging upon an arbour that overspread the whole
bath. Our military duties were so light that they never interfered with
this pleasant mode of life, particularly as our commanding officer was
not very strict in his enforcement of them, and the reveillé drum seldom
disturbed my morning slumbers.
If an epicure wishes to enjoy life at a low rate, I advise him to go to
Lower California. The Gulf affords every variety of fish, and all the
tropical fruits grow in the greatest profusion. For several months we
lived upon green turtle, caught directly in front of the town,--some of
them weighed one hundred and fifty pounds, and were sold to us at
twenty-five cents apiece. In addition to this, the shores afforded
mussels and oysters in great plenty, and the soil produces every variety
of vegetables. Among the fruits of Lower California is one which grows
wild, and is peculiar to the country, called the _petalla_, the most
delicious fruit I ever ate. It grows upon a kind of cactus tree, and
somewhat resembles a prickly pear, being covered with a thorny rind,
which, being taken off, exhibits a pulp of a rich red colour. The great
peculiarity of this fruit is, that out of a hundred no two have the same
flavour. One resembles in taste a strawberry; another, seems flavoured
with winter-green; the next with peach, and so on through the whole
range of cultivated fruits.
The climate of Lower California is equal to that of Italy or Persia.
During the whole year, the thermometer never varies ten degrees, usually
ranging from eighty to ninety degrees, except at noon, when it sometimes
reaches one hundred. In the winter, no other than thin clothing is
worn, and an overcoat is never needed. It is an eternal summer. Such
gorgeous sunsets and clear star-lit skies, can be found in no other
portion of the world. During my whole residence there, I never saw a
cloud as large as my hand upon the sky, and a drop of rain never fell.
There is no rainy season in Lower California; rain usually falls three
or four times in the course of a year, but the necessity of it is almost
superseded by the heavy dews which fall every night.
The healthiness of the country is remarkable. During our sojourn there
of more than a year, no death from sickness occurred in our detachment
of more than a hundred men, and but two deaths during the whole time in
the town, which consisted of fifteen hundred inhabitants. An officer of
our regiment who was stationed in Upper California, and who had been
pronounced by his physicians to be in the last stage of pulmonary
consumption, as a last resort went to Lower California. The result was,
that in three months he completely regained his health, and I saw him a
few days since a stout, hearty man.
The people of Lower California are a curious race of beings; isolated
from their mother country and neglected by her, they have assumed a sort
of independence of thought and action which I never found in Upper
California; but a kinder-hearted, more hospitable class of people never
lived. Their thatched houses are ever open for the reception of
visiters, and a glass of wine and a paper cigar are always offered to
any one who chooses to enter. The manner in which the people of La Paz
live is peculiar. In the main street, the houses are built of _adobe_,
whitewashed, with roofs principally of cane and palm-tree, laid flat and
covered with the shell of the pearl oyster. Some of them are of more
than one story in height. Some of the floors are laid with large square
bricks, but by far the greater portion of them are of the native mud.
In the interior arrangement, little attention is paid to decoration. A
few camp-stools covered with leather, or a drum-shaped seat with a piece
of raw hide drawn over it, a table, a bed, and an earthen jar filled
with water, usually compose the furniture. The bed is usually very neat,
with clean linen sheets and curtains, with red satin covered pillows. In
the other parts of the town and on the outskirts, the houses are very
small, some of them of _adobe_, others of reeds, plastered with mud, and
others are nothing more than a parcel of dried bushes intertwined. These
generally contain but one room, with no more furniture than a few seats,
and sometimes a bed made of a dried hide tightly drawn across four
posts. Here father, mother, daughters, and sons, all lie down
promiscuously on a hide stretched upon the floor, or, more commonly
still, outside in the open air, and sleep heads and points in most
admirable confusion. Indeed, this sleeping out of doors is not confined
to any particular class, but is practised by all during the summer
months, and is really a delightful mode of passing the night. The men
are generally tall and well-formed, and dress in the manner of Mexicans
of the same class.
But the women, “Heaven’s last, best work,” how shall I describe them?
They are found in Lower California of all shades, from the blackest
ebony to the whitest lily. Where such a variety of colour could have
arisen, I cannot imagine. Their dress is usually a skirt, merely
reaching to the waist, while above this, is a white bodice which does
not reach quite so high in the neck as is required by the strict rules
of feminine modesty. They wear no hats or bonnets, but in lieu of them a
_reboso_ is thrown around their heads, and falls in graceful folds over
their shoulders. Many of them go barefoot, and very few wear stockings,
considering them an unnecessary luxury.
Simple as are these articles of dress, the La Paz girls delight as much
as their more refined sisters in our northern cities in exhibiting
themselves to advantage. I have seen a fair señorita on her way to
church, as barefooted as the day she first trod the earth, carrying on
her shoulders a beautiful silk _reboso_, which must have cost a hundred
dollars. The ladies all indulge in the “amiable weakness” of smoking
cigaritos, and the blue wreaths are curling about their dark faces from
morning to night. The state of morals amongst them is as loose as their
dress, and the poorer classes are sunk in the lowest state of
prostitution. Cases have often occurred where the bargain for the
daughter’s dishonour has previously been made with the mother. Strange
as this may appear in a country upon which the light of Christianity has
shone, and among a people professing to be Christian, it is,
nevertheless, strictly true.
In fact the morals of the whole community, male and female, need
improving. An old priest named Gabriel, who, at the time I was there,
was Padre Presidente of Lower California, in open violation of his vows
of chastity, was living in the family relation, and had been the means
of bringing into the world no less than eleven children. One of these
had taken his name, always travelled with him, and was himself studying
for the priesthood. I witnessed a very amusing incident once with
Gabriel, in which I bore a part, and which exhibits the peculiar state
of morals among some of the priesthood of Mexican territory. Gabriel was
a most inveterate gambler, and often amused himself, when on his
parochial tours, by opening a game of montè for any of his parishioners
who chose to bet against him, although he often found difficulty in
obtaining a game, because, as the “knowing ones” said, “El padre sabe
mucho.”
Soon after our arrival at La Paz, Gabriel, who resided in Todos Santos,
came over to visit his flock in La Paz, and as we were then the lions of
the place, he invited the officers to visit him at his temporary
residence in the town. Soon after we entered, when he had brought out a
bottle of good old wine, he very quietly took from a pocket in his
cassock a pack of montè cards, and asked us if we had any objection to a
quiet game. Out of courtesy we told him that we had no objection, and
the padre commenced dealing and we betting.
After our amusement had been in progress about half an hour, during
which time the padre had beaten us to the amount of a few dollars, the
bell of the church tolled. The padre laid down his cards and said with
perfect _nonchalance_: “Dispensarne Señores, tengo que bautizar un
niño.” (Excuse me, gentlemen, I have a child to baptize.) He invited us
to proceed to the church with him, and when we arrived, we found a woman
with a child anxiously waiting in the doorway. When, however, the padre
was ready to commence operations, it was found that there was no one
present to stand in the capacity of _compadre_ (godfather). Gabriel
invited me to perform this service. I told him I was not a Catholic. “No
le hace,” was his reply; and I accordingly stood at the baptismal font
while the padre sprinkled the youngster and muttered over some Latin,
after which, he turned to my companions and myself, and said, “Ahora,
Señores, vamos a jugar otra verz.” (Now, gentlemen, we will go and play
again); and we accordingly returned to the house and resumed the game.
Gabriel was afterwards taken prisoner by our forces and sent to
Mazatlan. He was one of the leading spirits in the revolution that
afterwards occurred, and I doubt not that he came to La Paz, at the time
of which I have spoken, to learn our force, and the probabilities of our
being taken.
Among such a people, ignorant but kind, and in such a glorious climate,
I passed my days in happiness and pleasure. When the shades of evening
gathered around us, a little knot of us used to assemble beneath a
spreading tamarind tree, and listen to songs in the enchanting Spanish,
sung by a beautiful creature who had undertaken the task of teaching me
her language, and in which, I flatter myself, she found an apt scholar.
A ramble then upon the broad, hard beach, beneath that beautiful
starlight, would close our evening’s pleasures, or a dance upon a
greensward in a grove of fig-trees, prepare us for a sweet slumber.
Sometimes we took little excursions upon the broad and placid bay, and
one of these, which extended to a visit to the Pearl Fishery, I will
relate:
On a clear, beautiful, moonlit night, in the latter part of October, a
party of three of us, in a little fishing-boat, stood out from the Bay
of La Paz, to proceed to the Pearl Fishery of San Lorenzo, about twenty
miles distant. We chose the night, for its coolness, and for the
delicious land breeze which blew our little boat so rapidly over the
water, and afforded so pleasing a contrast in feeling to the burning sun
and stirless atmosphere of a tropical climate.
To one who has never been buoyed on the waters of the Gulf of
California, no description can convey an accurate idea of its stillness
and beauty, when, at the close of the long, sunny day, it is resting
beneath the smile of the unclouded, starry sky, which is ever above it.
Like a little inland lake in summer-time, unrippled and mirror-like, its
waters were so clear that, even by moonlight, its shell-paved bottom was
plainly discernible. Millions of little emerald-coloured gems of
phosphorescent light, were floating over its bosom; and the track of the
leaping porpoises and golden dolphins was followed by a stream of liquid
fire.
As we neared “Pichelingo,” the entrance to the harbour, we observed on
the beach, about a mile distant, a bright light, and as the land breeze
was dying away, we made for it, thinking that probably a party of divers
were there, on their way to the fishery. We stood in, and soon reached
the light, which we found to be a fire built on shore. We landed, hauled
up our boat, and found two tall, naked Indians, engaged in cooking their
evening meal of _pozzoli_, or boiled corn: they were tortoise-shell
fishers, and had with them a large quantity of these most beautiful
shells. They invited us to participate in their frugal meal, but we had
provisions of our own, and, roasting some salt pork on their fire and
brewing a steaming hot punch, we ate and drank sufficiently, spread our
blankets on the sand and lay down to sleep by the side of our Indian
friends. At daylight a good breeze sprang up, and, thanking our Indians
for their hospitality and presenting each with a small sum of money, we
again made sail.
About 11 o’clock we rounded the low, sandy point, which forms one side
of the entrance to the pretty little bay of San Lorenzo. We were
received on the beach by about three hundred tall, black-looking
Indians, prepared to start on their daily occupation of diving. Through
the politeness of one of the “armadores,” or owners, six of the _busos_
(divers) were placed in our boat, and we pushed off for the
fishing-ground, near the shore of the huge rocky island of Espiritu
Santo. Thirty canoes, filled with divers, started with us, and in half
an hour we were on the ground. Here the water was the most beautifully
clear I ever saw. It was some four or five fathoms in depth, but so
transparent that the pearly treasures in its bed were as plain to our
sight as though air only separated them from us. The divers divested
themselves of every particle of clothing, with the exception of a girdle
tightly bound round their loins, and armed with nothing but a
sharp-pointed stick, about a foot in length, used for the double purpose
of fighting sharks and digging up the shell, they commenced their
labours. Starting up suddenly on the gunwale of the boat, and giving a
shrill whistle, to expel the air from their lungs, with a dive as
graceful as a dolphin’s leap, they plunged into the water, and made a
straight course for the bottom. The dive itself carried them about two
fathoms downward, and every subsequent stroke one fathom. Arrived at the
bottom, they commenced digging up the shell, and each one soon returned
to the surface with an armful, which he threw into the boat, and then
would dive again for a fresh load, and so they continued for nearly
three hours, with scarcely a moment’s intermission. Some brought up fish
and sea-weed, others beautiful shells, and one fellow captured a small
shark, which he threw into the boat, very much to the annoyance of us
landsmen.
These divers are Indians from the Slake River, in the province of
Sonora, who come every season to the coast of California to pursue their
avocation. About three o’clock the whole fleet started for the shore,
and, arrived there, each _buso_ carried his pile of shell on the beach,
and the crew of each boat, forming a circle, threw into its centre
one-half of their shells. These were the property of the _armador_, and
were first opened, and the pearls given to him. The old fellow stood by,
watching the divers very closely, as some of them are exceedingly expert
in suddenly swallowing any valuable pearl they may chance to find in the
owner’s pile. The pearls are found in the body of the oyster, of all
sizes, from that of a pin’s head to that of a walnut. Sometimes a
hundred oysters are opened without finding a single pearl, while in
others many are found. When the owner’s oysters are all opened, each
diver commences on his own pile; and any valuable pearl he may find is
usually sold to the _armador_ on the spot, at about one-half its real
value.
The pearl fisheries of Lower California have been carried on since the
earliest discovery of the country, and immense fortunes have been made
in them. There are at present about one hundred vessels yearly engaged
in this business during the fishing season, which continues from May to
November. The oysters are all taken by diving, no scientific apparatus
having yet been successfully introduced. A diving-bell was tried by an
English company some years ago, but this mode was soon abandoned, from
some cause which I could never learn. The shells of the oysters are
piled up on the beach, and sold to whalers and trading vessels that
visit the coast.
The oysters being all opened, the divers take their first meal in the
day, which consists of nothing more than a bowl of _atole_, a kind of
water-gruel, with a little dried meat thrown into it. This, and the use
of the boats, is all that is furnished by the _armador_, for which he
receives one-half the pearls.
It was the last day of the fishing season, and before we left, as was
always the custom, the little brush houses, temporarily thrown up on the
beach, were fired by the divers, and a general jubilee held. We left
them in the most glorious state of intoxication, and setting sail once
more, after spending another night on the beach of Pichelingo, we
arrived safely in La Paz the next day at noon.
The great resources of Lower California are its mines of silver, gold,
copper, and iron, the former metal being most abundant. The whole
mountain range, which extends along the coast, is one immense silver
mine, equal in richness to those of Mexico or Peru. At the present time
only three or four mines are wrought, owing to the lack of energy in the
inhabitants, and the entire absence of scientific mining apparatus,--all
the necessary labour being performed by men and mules. In making
inquiries for a place to search for silver in Lower California, the old
settlers in reply merely point their fingers to the mountain range, and
say, “Por hay” (that way, anywhere there); and it is a fact, that a
shaft may be sunk in any part of the mountains, and silver ore always
extracted, varying in richness from fifteen to seventy per cent. of
pure silver. The principal silver mines at present wrought are in San
Antonio, half-way from La Paz to Cape St. Lucas. These are owned by the
Hidalgos, who send annually out of the country about two hundred
thousand dollars worth of _plata pina_.
Near Loretto are large and extensive copper mines; lead and iron are
found everywhere, and gold-washings have always been wrought in the
country with considerable success. If this territory ever becomes
settled by an energetic population, millions of wealth will be annually
gathered in its borders, and it will stand side by side in point of
riches with the countries that have already made themselves famous by
the wealth lying in their bosoms.
As an agricultural country Lower California is rather deficient,
although there are many watered valleys which produce in great profusion
all the common culinary vegetables, and wherever the soil can be
irrigated, it produces all the tropical fruits and the vegetables of the
temperate zones in great luxuriance. Cotton of the finest staple grows
wild upon the plains around La Paz, and cane, from which a very good
article of sugar is made, grows all over the land. Wine is made from the
grape of the country, which is of the most delicious kind.
When we went to Lower California, our orders were to assure the
inhabitants that their country was to be retained as a portion of the
territory of the United States. The message of President Polk and the
proclamation of Commodore Shubrick supported this idea, and upon the
representations thus made, the most influential inhabitants committed
themselves to the American cause, and were exceedingly gratified with
the expected result. In the month of November, we were attacked by a
Mexican force of six hundred, under command of Don Manuel Pineda, a
captain in the Mexican army, who published a long proclamation
threatening death and destruction to the Californians who supported our
cause. Notwithstanding this, during a severe and trying siege, which
lasted six weeks, many of the _rancheros_ from the interior came in and
joined us, and for this whole time a company of native Californians,
under the command of the former governor of the territory, Don Francisco
Palacèo, fought bravely with us and rendered us essential service, with
the expectation that at the close of the war they would be protected by
us. But what was their consternation when, upon the reception of the
news of the treaty of peace, it was found that they had been forgotten,
and that after the promises which had been made, we were obliged to
desert them and leave them to the voracity of their Mexican masters, by
whom they are now of course viewed in the light of traitors to their
country.
Never in the history of wars among civilized nations was there a greater
piece of injustice committed, and the United States government deserves
for it the imprecations of all who have a sense of justice remaining in
them. The probability is, that some ignorant scribbler, who had cast his
eyes upon the rugged rocks that girdle her sea-coast, had represented
Lower California as a worthless country, and that, forgetting justice
and good faith, our government left this compromised people to suffer at
the hands of their own brethren. The result was that many of them were
obliged to fly from their country and go to Upper California, their
property was confiscated and they can never return to their homes but
with the brand of traitors resting upon them.
It is the duty of our government to repair if possible the wrong thus
done. Lower California must at some time inevitably be a territory of
the United States. It is a peculiarity of the Yankee race that, like the
western farmer, they only want to possess “all the land that joins
them;” and this country, isolated as it is from Mexico, inhabited by a
people who heartily hate the institutions of their mother country,
neglected by her, and lying in such close contiguity to our possessions
on the Pacific coast, must fall into our hands, and, instead of being a
worthless territory, we should find it our greatest acquisition on the
Pacific. The gulf of California is one of the finest sheets of water in
the world, and the inner coast is indented with many safe and
land-locked harbours. The bay of La Paz is safe and large, and the
establishment of a naval depot at this point would keep in check the
whole western coast of Mexico. Mexico does not desire this territory,
and no people were ever more anxious for a separation from the mother
country than are the inhabitants of Lower California. It would be an
easy purchase, and if necessary an easy conquest, and unless it is done
by the general government, a second Texas affair will occur there before
many years pass. When Upper California becomes more thickly populated,
and the progress westward is stopped by the surges of the Pacific, the
northern territory of Oregon being already ours, the progress must
inevitably be southward, and even now ideas are entertained of seizing
the country.
In order to prevent the disastrous consequences which must ensue from a
re-enaction of the Texas tragedies, and to render justice to a people
whose confidence has been abused by our government, I would respectfully
recommend to the home government the immediate commencement of
negotiations for the purchase of this valuable and interesting
territory. The appointment of commissioners to report upon its resources
and its value in a naval point of view, would be speedily followed by
its purchase, and thus would be prevented the piratical expeditions for
the seizure of the country which otherwise will soon be undertaken.
THE END.