Volume Ii Part 3 (2/2)
After a few hours' sail, we came to a deep creek opening to the right, and on its sh.o.r.es we perceived the mission of St. Francisco rising among wooded hills. The tide by this time had ebbed, the wind had died away, and we proceeded slowly by the aid of oars: this induced us, after rowing about fifteen miles, to land, at noon, on a pleasant little island. We made a blazing fire; and as every sailor understands something of cookery, a dinner was soon dressed, which eaten in the open air in beautiful weather, under the shade of spreading oaks, appeared excellent.
While the sailors were reposing, we examined the island. Its northern sh.o.r.e was tolerably high, and rose almost perpendicularly from the sea.
Its soil, as that of all the country about the bay of St. Francisco, consists, under the upper mould, of a variegated slate; probably the foot of man had never before trodden it. But a short time since, no boat was to be found in the neighbourhood, and now each mission possesses only one large barge in which the reverend Fathers pa.s.s up and down the rivers that discharge themselves into the northern half of the bay, to seek among the Indians who are occasionally seen on their banks, for proselytes to recruit the ranks of their laborious subjects. The only canoes of the Indians are made of plaited reeds, in which they sit up to their hips in water. That no one has yet attempted to build even the simplest canoe in a country which produces a super-abundance of the finest wood for the purpose, is a striking proof of the indolence of the Spaniards, and the stupidity of the Indians.
Our island was surrounded by wild ducks and other sea-fowl; the white-headed eagle hovered too over the oaks, and seemed to be pursuing a very small species of hare, and a pretty partridge, of which there are great numbers.
We enjoyed for a few hours the recreation of the land, so welcome to sailors, and then continued our voyage with a favourable wind.
The sun was near the horizon when we approached the eastern sh.o.r.e of the bay. Here the water is no longer of sufficient depth to admit large vessels, and the face of the country a.s.sumes a different character. The mountains retire to a greater distance; extensive plains slope from the hills towards the water's edge, where they become mere swamps, intersected however by a variety of natural channels, by means of which, boats may run some distance inland. It was already growing dark as we entered these channels, where, even during daylight, the a.s.sistance of a good pilot is requisite to thread the intricacies of a navigation among thick reeds that grow to such a height in the marshes on both sides, as to exclude from view every object but the sky. Our sailors plied their oars vigorously; the channels became gradually narrower, and the banks drier; at length we heard human voices behind the reeds, and at midnight we reached the landing-place. A large fire had been lighted. Two dragoons and a few half-naked Indians, sent from the mission, were waiting our arrival, with saddle-horses intended for our use. As the mission was at the distance of a good hour's ride, the night was dark, and I was not inclined to trouble the repose of the monks, I determined to await the dawn of morning. Our small tents were presently pitched, several fires lighted, and the cooks set to work.
After our tedious row, (for, owing to the zigzag course we had been compelled to steer, we had pa.s.sed over a distance of at least forty miles,) the camping out, in a beautiful night, was quite delightful.
Although it was now the latter end of September, the air was as mild as with us during the warmest summer nights. Round our little encampment we heard an incessant barking, as of young dogs, proceeding from a species of wolf, which abounds throughout California; it is not larger than the fox; but is so daring and dexterous, that it makes no scruple of entering human habitations in the night, and rarely fails to appropriate whatever happens to suit it. This we ourselves experienced; for our provision of meat had not been sufficiently secured, and we found nothing in the morning but a gnawed and empty bag.
The rising sun announced the approach of a fine day, and gave us a view of the extensive plains which formed the surrounding country. The missionaries cultivated wheat upon them, which had been already harvested, and large flocks of cattle, horses, and sheep, were seen pasturing among the stubble. The mission of Santa Clara possesses fourteen thousand head of cattle, one thousand horses, and ten thousand sheep. The greater part of these animals being left to roam undisturbed about the woods, they multiply with amazing rapidity.
I now ordered the horses to be saddled, and we set off for the mission, the buildings and woods of which bounded the view over these prodigious corn-fields. Our way lay through the stubble, amongst flocks of wild geese, ducks, and snipes, so tame that we might have killed great numbers with our sticks. These are all birds of pa.s.sage, spending the winter here, and the summer farther north. We fired a few shots among the geese, and brought down about a dozen: they differ but little in size from our domestic goose, and some of them are quite white. A ride of an hour and a half brought us to Santa Clara, where the monks received us in the most friendly manner, and exerted themselves most hospitably, to make our visit agreeable.
The mission, which was founded in the year 1777, is situated beside a stream of the most pure and delicious water, in a large and extremely fertile plain. The buildings of Santa Clara, overshadowed by thick groves of oaks, and surrounded by gardens which, though carelessly cultivated, produce an abundance of vegetables, the finest grapes, and fruits of all kinds, are in the same style as at all the other missions.
They consist of a large stone church, a s.p.a.cious dwelling-house for the monks, a large magazine for the preservation of corn, and the Rancherios, or barracks, for the Indians, of which mention has already been made. These are divided into long rows of houses, or rather stalls, where each family is allowed a s.p.a.ce scarcely large enough to enable them to lie down to repose. We were struck by the appearance of a large quadrangular building, which having no windows on the outside, and only one carefully secured door, resembled a prison for state-criminals. It proved to be the residence appropriated by the monks, the severe guardians of chast.i.ty, to the young unmarried Indian women, whom they keep under their particular superintendence, making their time useful to the community by spinning, weaving, and similar occupations. These dungeons are opened two or three times a-day, but only to allow the prisoners to pa.s.s to and from the church. I have occasionally seen the poor girls rus.h.i.+ng out eagerly to breathe the fresh air, and driven immediately into the church like a flock of sheep, by an old ragged Spaniard armed with a stick. After ma.s.s, they are in the same manner hurried back to their prisons. Yet, notwithstanding all the care of the ghostly fathers, the feet of some of these uninviting fair ones were c.u.mbered with bars of iron, the penal consequence, as I was informed, of detected transgression. Only on their marriage are these cloistered virgins allowed to issue from their confinement and a.s.sociate with their own people in the barracks.
Three times a-day a bell summons the Indians to their meals, which are prepared in large kettles, and served out in portions to each family.
They are seldom allowed meat; their ordinary, and not very wholesome food, consisting of wheaten flour, maize, peas and beans, mixed together, and boiled to a thick soup.
The mission of Santa Clara contains fifteen hundred male Indians, of whom about one-half are married. All these men are governed by three monks, and guarded by four soldiers and a subaltern officer. Since this force is found sufficient, it follows either that the Indians of the mission are happier than their free countrymen, or that, no way superior to the domestic animals, they are chained by their instincts to the place where their food is provided. The first supposition can hardly be well founded. Hard labour every day, Sundays only excepted, when labour is superseded by prayer; corporal chastis.e.m.e.nt, imprisonment, and fetters on the slightest demonstration of disobedience; unwholesome nourishment, miserable lodging, deprivation of all property, and of all the enjoyments of life:--these are not boons which diffuse content. Many indeed of these unfortunate victims prove, by their attempts to escape, that their submission is involuntary; but the soldiers, as I have before observed, generally hunt them from their place of refuge, and bring them back to undergo the severe punishment their transgression has incurred.
To the most stupid apathy, then, must the patience of these Indians be ascribed; and in this, their distinguis.h.i.+ng characteristic, they exceed every race of men I have ever known, not excepting the degraded natives of Terra del Fuego, or Van Diemen's Land.
The Christian religion, or what the monks are pleased to call by that name, has given no beneficial spur to their minds. How indeed could it act upon their confined understandings, when their teachers were almost wholly deficient in the necessary means of communicating knowledge,--an acquaintance with their language? I have since had opportunities of observing the free Indians, who appear less stupid, and in many respects more civilized, than the proselytes of the _gente rationale_, as the Spaniards here call themselves; and I am convinced that the system of instruction and discipline adopted by the monks, has certainly tended to degrade even these step-children of Nature. If to raise them to the rank of intellectual beings had been really the object in view, rather than making them the mock professors of a religion they are incapable of understanding, they should have been taught the arts of agriculture and architecture, and the method of breeding cattle; they should have been made proprietors of the land they cultivated, and should have freely enjoyed its produce. Had this been done, _los barbaros_ might soon have stood on a level with the _gente rationale_.
There are in California many different races of Indians, whose languages vary so much from each other, as sometimes to have scarcely any resemblance; in the single mission of Santa Clara more than twenty languages are spoken. These races are all alike ugly, stupid, dirty, and disgusting: they are of a middle size, weak, and of a blackish colour; they have flat faces, thick lips, broad negro-noses, scarcely any foreheads, and black, coa.r.s.e, straight hair. The powers of their mind lie yet profoundly dormant; and La Perouse does not perhaps exaggerate when he affirms, that if any one among them can be made to comprehend that twice two make four, he may pa.s.s, in comparison with his countrymen, for a Descartes or a Newton. To most of them, this important arithmetical proposition would certainly be perfectly incomprehensible.
In their wild state, all these Indians lead a wandering life. It is only recently that they have begun to build huts of underwood, which they burn whenever they remove from the spot. The chase is their sole occupation and means of subsistence. Hence their skill in shooting with arrows has cost many Spanish lives. They lie in wait at night, in the forests and mountains, watching for game.
Agriculture, as I have before observed, is the copious source of revenue to the monks, and they farm on an extensive scale. The yearly crop of wheat at Santa Clara alone, produces three thousand fanegos, about six hundred and twenty English quarters, or three thousand four hundred Berlin bushels; and from the extraordinary fertility of the soil, the harvest, on an average, is forty-fold, notwithstanding the roughness of their mode of cultivation. The field is first broken up with a very clumsy plough, then sown, and a second ploughing completes the work.
Under the hard clods of earth thus left undisturbed, a great part of the seed perishes of course. How unexampled would be the harvest, if a.s.sisted by the capital and industry of an European farmer!
The monks themselves confess that they are not good agriculturists; but they are content with their harvests. Their carelessness is however unpardonable, in having never yet erected a mill. There is not one in all California; and the poor Indians are obliged to grind their corn by manual labour between two large, flat stones.
From the mission we took half an hour's walk to a _Pueblo_. This word signifies, in California, a village, inhabited by married invalids, disbanded soldiers from the Presidio, and their progeny. This Pueblo lies in a beautiful spot. The houses are pleasant, built of stone, and stand in the midst of orchards, and hedges of vines bearing luxuriant cl.u.s.ters of the richest grapes. The inhabitants came out to meet us, and with much courteousness, blended with the ceremonious politeness of the Spaniards, invited us to enter their simple but cleanly dwellings.
All their countenances bespoke health and contentment, and they have good cause to rejoice in their lot. Unburthened by taxes of any kind, and in possession of as much land as they choose to cultivate, they live free from care on the rich produce of their fields and herds.
The population of these Pueblos is every year on the increase; while, on the contrary, the numbers of the Indians dependent on the missions are continually decreasing. The mortality amongst the latter is so great, that the establishments could not continue, if their spiritual conductors did not constantly procure fresh recruits from amongst the free Indians, to fill the thinning ranks of their labourers.
In Old California, many of the missions have gone to decay on account of the total extermination of the savages. The north still affords an abundant supply to New California; but if the missionaries do not economize the lives of their men more than they have hitherto done, this source also will in time be exhausted. Meanwhile the Pueblos will continue to multiply, and will become the origins of a new and improved population.
After pa.s.sing three days with the monks of Santa Clara, who at least possess the virtue of hospitality, we set out on our return with a provision of fruit and vegetables, purchased for very fair prices. They were carried to the place of embarkation on heavy and very badly constructed cars drawn by oxen: the wheels were made of thick planks nailed together, without any regard to mechanical science either in their form or poizing; and the machine slowly advanced with a difficult jolting motion very prejudicial to our fine melons, peaches, grapes, and figs, and to the magnificent apples, which have no equals in Europe. On reaching our Barca.s.se, we found all in readiness to receive ourselves and cargo. The sailors had been much disturbed in the night by the wolves.
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