The California missions, though greatly varying of course in regard to
size and economy, were constructed upon the same general plan, in the
striking and beautiful style of architecture, roughly known as Moorish,
which the fathers transplanted from Spain, but which rather seems by
reason of its singular appropriateness, a native growth of the new
soil. The edifices which now, whether in ruins or in restoration, still
testify to the skill and energy of their pious designers, were in all
cases later, in most cases much later, than the settlements themselves.
At the outset, a few rude buildings of wood or adobe were deemed
sufficient for the temporary accommodation of priests and converts,
and the celebration of religious services. Then, little by little,
substantial structures in brick or stone took the place of these, and
what we now think of as the mission came into being.
The best account left us of the mission establishment in its palmy
days is that given by De Mofras in his careful record of travel and
exploration along the Pacific Coast; and often quoted as this has been,
we still cannot do better here than to translate some portions of it
anew. The observant Frenchman wrote with his eye mainly upon what was
perhaps the most completely typical of all the missions--that of San
Luis Rey. But his description, though containing a number of merely
local particulars, was intended to be general; and for this reason may
the more properly be reproduced in this place.
"The edifice," he wrote, "is quadrilateral, and about one hundred and
fifty metres long in front. The church occupies one of the wings. The
facade is ornamented with a gallery [or arcade]. The building, a single
storey in height, is generally raised some feet above the ground. The
interior forms a court, adorned with flowers and planted with trees.
Opening on the gallery which runs round it are the rooms of the monks,
majordomos, and travelers, as well as the workshops, schoolrooms, and
storehouses. Hospitals for men and women are situated in the quietest
parts of the mission, where also are placed the schoolrooms. The young
Indian girls occupy apartments called the monastery (el moujerio), and
they themselves are styled nuns (las moujas)... Placed under the care of
trustworthy Indian women, they are there taught to spin wool, flax, and
cotton, and do no leave their seclusion till they are old enough to be
married. The Indian children attend the same school as the children of
the white colonists. A certain number of them, chosen from those who
exhibit most intelligence, are taught music--plain-chant, violin,
flute, horn, violincello, and other instruments. Those who distinguish
themselves in the carpenter's shop, at the forge, or in the field, are
termed alcaldes, or chiefs, and given charge of a band of workmen. The
management of each mission is composed of two monks; the elder looks
after internal administration and religious instruction; the younger
has direction of agricultural work... For the sake of order and morals,
whites are employed only where strictly necessary, for the fathers know
their influence to be altogether harmful, and that they lead the Indians
to gambling and drunkenness, to which vices they are already too prone.
To encourage the natives in their tasks, the fathers themselves often
lend a hand, and everywhere furnish an example of industry. Necessity
has made them industrious. One is struck with astonishment on observing
that, with such meagre resources, often without European workmen or
any skilled help, but with the assistance only of savages, always
unintelligent and often hostile, they have yet succeeded in executing
such works of architecture and engineering as mills, machinery, bridges,
roads, and canals for irrigation. For the erection of nearly all the
mission buildings it was necessary to bring to the sites chosen, beams
cut on mountains eight or ten leagues away, and to teach the Indians to
burn lime, cut stone, and make bricks.
"Around the mission," De Mofras continues, "are the huts of the
neophytes, and the dwellings of some white colonists. Besides the
central establishment, there exists, for a space of thirty or forty
leagues, accessory farms to the number of fifteen or twenty, and branch
chapels (chapelles succursales). Opposite the mission is a guard-house
for an escort, composed of four cavalry soldiers and a sergeant. These
act as messengers, carrying orders from one mission to another, and in
the earlier days of conquest repelled the savages who would sometimes
attack the settlement."
Of the daily life and routine of a mission, accounts of travelers enable
us to form a pretty vivid picture; and though doubtless changes of
detail might be marked in passing from place to place, the larger and
more essential features would be found common to all the establishments.
At sunrise the little community was already astir, and then the Angelus
summoned all to the church, where mass was said, and a short time given
to the religious instruction of the neophytes. Breakfast followed,
composed mainly of the staple dish atole, or pottage of roasted
barley. This finished, the Indians repaired in squads, each under the
supervision of its alcalde, to their various tasks in workshop and
field. Between eleven and twelve o'clock, a wholesome and sufficiently
generous midday meal was served out. At two, work was resumed. An hour
or so before sunset, the bell again tolled for the Angelus; evening
mass was performed; and after supper had been eaten, the day closed with
dance, or music, or some simple games of chance. Thus week by week,
and month by month, with monotonous regularity, life ran its unbroken
course; and what with the labours directly connected with the
management of the mission itself, the tending of sheep and cattle in the
neighboring ranches, and the care of the gardens and orchards upon which
the population was largely dependent for subsistence, there was plenty
to occupy the attention of the padres, and quite enough work to be done
by the Indians under their charge. But all this does not exhaust the
list of mission activities. For in course of time, as existence became
more settled, and the children of the early converts shot up into
boys and girls, various industries were added to such first necessary
occupations, and the natives were taught to work at the forge and the
bench, to make saddles and shoes, to weave, and cut, and sew. In these
and similar acts, many of them acquired considerable proficiency.
It is pleasant enough to look back upon such a busy yet placid life.
But while we may justly acknowledge its antique, pastoral charm, we must
guard ourselves against the temptation to idealization. Beautiful in
many respects it must have been; but its shadows were long and deep.
According to the first principles adopted by the missionaries, the
domesticated Indians were held down rigorously in a condition of
servile dependence and subjection. They were indeed, as one of the early
travelers in California put it, slaves under another name--slaves to
the cast-iron power of a system which, like all systems, was capable of
unlimited abuse, and which, at the very best, was narrow and arbitrary.
Every vestige of freedom was taken from them when they entered, or were
brought into, the settlement. Henceforth they belonged, body and soul,
to the mission and its authority. Their tasks were assigned to them,
their movements controlled, the details of their daily doings dictated,
by those who were to all intents and purposes their absolute masters;
and corporal punishment was visited freely not only upon those who were
guilty of actual misdemeanor, but also upon such as failed in attendance
at church, or, when there, did not conduct themselves properly. From
time to time some unusually turbulent spirit would rise against such
paternal despotism, and break away to his old savage life. But these
cases, we are told, were of rare occurrence. The California Indians were
for the most part indolent, apathetic, and of low intelligence; and as,
under domestication, they were clothed, housed and fed, while the labour
demanded from them was rarely excessive, they were wont as a rule to
accept the change from the hardships of their former rough existence to
the comparative comfort of the mission, if not exactly in a spirit of
gratitude, at any rate with a certain brutal contentment.