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
familythat had no mothersuddenly 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 villagesit 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 livedas a rulein 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
schoolssometimes thousands of miles awaywithout 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 homewhich by contrast must seem squalid
indeedto 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.”