We Did No Harm to You: Two Hundred Years of Native Voices

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By : Richard Carrico

INTRODUCTION

Voices from the Indian past are often muted and unevenly filtered through non?Indian writings. Too often the words and meanings are taken out of their original context, and in our attempt to find meanings for our own times, the words take on a Euro-American patina. The use and abuse of Indian words can be starkly seen in the various versions of the widely circulated speech of Chief Seattle (Sleath). As most often cited and quoted, the speech is far more reflective of post?modern political correctness and environmentalism than it is of the old man's oration 140 years ago. As a mantra chanted by wannabes and people trying to find their souls in others, Chief Seattle's speech adorns coffee mugs, tee?shirts, posters, and the sides of buildings.

In spite of the cultural and spiritual plagiarism, even after almost two hundred years of culture contact, and left to stand on their own terms, the words of the non?European "other" offer substantial insights into the world as it was and the world as it inexorably became. The California Indian, while suffering many of the tragedies and fates of tribes to the east, avoided outright extermination and adapted to first Spanish, then Mexican, and then America rule. Over those many decades, the Indian people gave speeches, were interviewed, and having mastered the white man's vocabulary, wrote letters.

The quotations that follow are taken almost exclusively from primary sources. This emphasis is intentional in an effort to avoid misquotes and paraphrasing that wander from the path of veracity and truth. While not exhaustive, the voices come from differing tribes, they echo from decades long gone, and yet they reflect a universality of the human spirit.


REBELS AND PATRIOTS

I Ask Your Pardon

Vilified, misunderstood, and in death a symbol of swift Anglo?American justice, Antonio Garra's name is writ large in the annals of San Diego history. His still ambiguous role in the ill?fated insurrection of 1851 led to a trial in what is now Old Town, his execution by rifle fire, and an unceremonious burial. While admitting that he was involved in the robbery of some American sheepherders, who were subsequently murdered, Garra denied plotting an uprising, or leading other attacks on settlers. His greatest complaint was that he and his people were being taxed by local and state off cials without having any rights extended to them. In other time, another place, and with paler skin, Garra, a strong traditional leader amongst his Luiseño people, might have been a symbol of patriotism, of resistance against unjust taxes, and oppressive government. This first excerpt is part of a more lengthy statement made by Garra after his capture and imprisonment at Rancho del Chino. The interview was published in several California newspapers and raised a stir because of Garra's implication of Mexican (Californios) leaders in a plot to overthrow the Americans. The full text describes Garra's knowledge of the robbings and killings that had recently taken place in southern California. While the structuring of the statement reflects a rather legalistic and stilted translation, the document is important because of the uniqueness of printed accounts of Indian testimonies and statements.

I am a St. Louis Rey [San Luis Rey] Indian, was baptized in Mission of St. Louis Rey, and from my earliest recollection have been connected with the St. Louis Rey Indians. Have had authority over only a portion of the St. Louis Indians. Never had any connections with the Cahuillas. Was appointed by Gen. Kearney, U.S. Army, commander?in?chief of the St. Louis Indians, in the year 1847.

I was advised by Joaquin Ortego [Ortega] and Jose Antonio Estudillo, to take up arms against the Americans. They advised me secretly, that if I could effect a juncture with the other Indian tribes of California, and commence an attack upon all the Americans wherever we could find them that the Californians would join with us and help m driving the Americans from the country. They advised me to this course that I might revenge myself for the payment of taxes, which has been demanded of the Indian tribes. The Indians think the collection of taxes from them to be a very unjust measure.

Garra was brought to San Diego to stand trial and on January 15, 1852, a little more than one month after his capture, Garra was executed. When requested by the Catholic priest in attendance to ask the pardon of the assembled dignitaries and gawkers, Garra's final words were succinct and to the point.
"Gentlemen, I ask your pardon for all of my offenses, and expect yours in return."

San Diego Herald January 17, 1852, p. 2, column 2.

He Was An Unbearable Padre

In 1811, a Kumeyaay Indian who worked as a cook at Mission San Diego de Alcald poisoned Fray Panto, a Spanish priest by adding a dose of cushasquelaai (escoba amarga or bitter broom) to the priest's soup. As stated at his trial, Nazario's intent was not to kill the priest, he hoped only to sicken him for a few days in hopes that Fray Panto's lashings would stop. In his testimony before the appointed judge for the case, Diego Carrillo, Nazario stated his case and pleaded for mercy. Nazario told the court:

He had no other complaint against the said padre ([Panto] except that on the morning of the 15th he had given him 50 lashes, and on the night of the same day, 24; on the morning of the 16th, 25; on the afternoon of the same day, another 25. With this I saw myself so tormented by the multitude of lashes I was given, I found no other way to revenge myself, and for the many more that I was given I decided on the night of the 16th to put some herb in the plate of soup to see if in this way I and the other Indians of the mission would be given some rest, since he was an unbearable padre.

There were times when I did not save lunch for the family of Sergeant Mercado, or because there was not enough food to go around, or even when I forgot, these were excuses for his giving me fifty, and while he was punishing me, when he was not doing it himself, he would get one of the pages to sing to me in a loud voice, `merienda, merienda.' No Indian of the mission likes him, nor do any of the gentiles, while Padre Sanchez is as beloved by the gentiles as he is by the Christians. While I was at the San Fernando Mission learning to cook, [Fray Panto] passed through that mission once and gave me 25 lashes.

The court decision was that Nazario did not attempt to take the life of the priest and that he was not "worthy of execution. " Nazario was given a sentence of eight months in the jail at the San Diego Presidio.

Transcripts of the case involving the poisoning of Fray Panto and the trial of Nazario. Archivos de Californio, Ano 1811, Bancroft Library, Berkeley, California.


NEOPHYTES IN THE GARDEN OF THE LORD

With the imposition of the mission system in Alta California beginning in 1769, thousands of native people came under the dominion of the Catholic Church and its Franciscans priests. The extension of the Catholic mission system into Alta California was a natural outgrowth of the missions that dotted the landscape of Baja California. With the coming of the Spaniards a ancient way of life began to fade. The historical argument that continues to rage over the willingness of the native people to abandon their traditions and convert to Catholicism is a real issue, not simply an academic hair splitting. The experiences and attitudes of the native men whose narratives follow, clearly reflect the differing images that the period presents.

When The Merciful God Freed Us

Pablo Tac, a young member of the Luiseño tribe, received his Catholic baptism at Mission San Luis Rey in 1822 and was a contemporary of Antonio Garra. Tac was a model student and convert and for this loyalty he was taken to Rome where he wrote the following description of his life at the Mission. Once in Rome, Pablo Tac never saw the rolling hills of his homeland again, a fatal disease struck him before his twentieth year. Tac begins his narrative by reflecting back on his people's precontact religious practices and then offers a glimpse of mission life. Mission San Luis Rey is often called the King of the California Missions because of its architecture, its splendor, and its regalness.

The God who was adored at that time was the sun and the fire. Thus we lived among the woods until merciful God freed us of these miseries through Father Antonio Peyri, a Catalan, who arrived in our country in the afternoon with seven Spanish soldiers.

When the missionary arrived in our country with a small troop, our captain and also the others were astonished, seeing them from afar, but they did not run away or seize arms to kill them, but having sat down, they watched them. But when they drew near, then the captain got up, for he was seated with the others, and met them. They halted, and the missionary began to speak, the captain saying perhaps in his language, `Hichson iva haluon, pulluchajam cham quinai.' `What is it you seek here? Get out of our country!' But they did not understand him, and they answered him in Spanish, and the captain began with signs and the Fernandino, understanding him, gave him gifts and in this manner made him his friend...

He [Father Peyri] ordered the Indians to carry stone from the sea, which is not far, for the foundations, to make bricks, roof tiles, to cut beams, reeds, and what is necessary. They did it with the masters who were helping them, and within a few years they finished working. They made a church with three altars for all the neophytes, the great altar is nearly all gilded, two chapels, two sacristies, two choirs, a flower garden for the church, a high tower with five bells, two small and three large, the cemetery with a crucifix in the middle for all those who die here...

"The Freedom to Work" from Indian Customs at Mission San Luis Rey by Pablo Tac, edited and translated by Minna and Gordon Hewes, California: Old Mission San Luis Rey, 1958.

The Marks of the Lashes That They Gave Me

Unlike Pablo Tac, Janitin, a Kamia Indian from the desert regions of Baja California, found the conversion process not to his liking. Janitin's experiences were more like those voiced by Nazario at Mission San Diego de Alcald. In spite of regulations, treatment of Indians was not consistent at the missions in Baja and Alta California. A comparison of Pablo Tac's and Janitin's experiences impresses these differences upon us. The setting for this story is the area around the presentday town of Rosarito Beach. Mission San Miguel was located somewhat to the east in an interior valley where its melting adobe ruins may still be seen.

I and two of my relatives went down from the Sierra of Neji to the beach of el Rosarito, to catch clams for eating and to carry to the sierra as we were accustomed to do all the years; we did no harm to anyone on the road, and on the beach we thought of nothing more than catching and drying clams in order to carry them to the village.

While we doing this, we saw two men on horseback coming rapidly towards us; my relatives were immediately afraid and they fled with all speed, hiding themselves in a very dense willow grove which then existed in the canyon of the Rancho del Rosarito.

As soon as I saw myself alone, I also became afraid of these men and ran into the forest in order to join my companions, but already it was too late, because in a moment they overtook me and lassoed and dragged me for a long distance, wounding me much with the branches over which they dragged me, pulling me lassoed as I was with their horses running; after this they roped me with my arms behind and carried me off to the mission of San Miguel, making me travel almost at a run in order to keep up with their horses, and when I stopped a little to catch my wind, they lashed me with the lariats that they carried, making me understand by signs that I should hurry; after much traveling in this manner, they diminished the pace and lashed me in order that I would always travel at the pace of the horses.

Every day [at Mission San Miguel] they lashed me unjustly because I did not finish what I did not know how to do; and thus I existed for many days until I found a way to escape; but I was tracked and they caught me like a fox; there they seized me by lasso as on the first occasion, and they carried me off to the mission torturing me on the road. After we arrived, the father passed along the corridor of the house, and he ordered that they fasten me to the stake and castigate me; they lashed me until I lost consciousness, and I did not regain my consciousness for many hours afterwards. For several days I could not raise myself from the floor where they had laid me, and I still have on my shoulders the marks of the lashes which they gave me then.

Janitin is Named Jesus : Testimonio de Janitin from Apuntes de la Baia California by Manuel C. Roja. Bancrof Library: Berkeley,. California (Mss295).

We Have Experienced All The Evils

Mission San Luis Rey was perhaps the most successful mission in the Californias and many of the neighboring Luiseño became active members of the converted Indian community. After more than forty?five years of conversion and acculturation, the Indian population was not prepared for secularization of the mission in 1834. In their efforts to retain land rights and to see that the mission continued to serve the Indians, Luiseño leaders such as Pablo Apis ran afoul of political and military authorities, including Pio Pico. In this letter, written in 1836, Pablo Apis petitions the Mexican governor for assistance.

The neophytes of this Mission come before Your Honor with the greatest respect and obedience, and represent that we have experienced all the evils which have visited us for many years. We have suffered incalculable losses, for some of which we are in part to be blamed because many of us have abandoned the Mission; but this could be remedied, Your Honor by imposing some penalty or punishment on those who absent themselves at their own pleasure, and upon those who admit them into their houses for work.

We plead, and we beseech you to deign to attend to this earnest supplication, if it seems just and right, to grant us a Rev. Father for this place. We have been accustomed to the Rev. Fathers and to their manner of managing the duties. We labored under their intelligent directions, and we are obedient to the Fathers according to the regulations, because we considered it was good for us all. Your Honor, we promise you who has the power that, if our petition is granted, we will work as before with more energy. We hope from this kind disposition of Your Honor that we shall receive this grace and favor.

Quoted in Zephyrin Englehardt, San Luis Rey Mission, (San Francisco: James Barry Company, 1921), pp. 104?105 and in George H. Phillips, Chiefs and Challengers, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975), p. 38.


DISPOSSESSION AND REMOVAL

Lands For Us To Cultivate
In 1878 a group of Luiseño leaders from the village of San Luis Rey wrote a letter to the Secretary of the Interior. Unable to afford rail fare to the capital, these men hoped that the written word would have some effect on the government officials and stop the constant eviction of Luiseño people from their lands.

"We do not ask ...for the Government to give us money, nor blankets, nor seeds; only some lands for us to cultivate for the support of our families, and to raise our animals to work our lands, and that this land shall be protected against whites and that you hold a protection over us so that it cannot be taken from us".

San Diego Union, August 18, 1877

How Can We Go Away?

After more than five years of legal manueving and trials that extended all the way to the United States Supreme Court, the Cupeños of Cupa (Warner's Hot Springs) faced eviction from their homelands. A commission appointed by President Theodore Roosevelt met with Cupeño leaders to determine where they would like to move. The government would purchase land for the dispossessed Cupeños but the location of the new lands was uncertain. At one hearing held in 1902, Cecilio Blacktooth, a respected Indian leader expressed his thoughts and those of his people.

We thank you for coming here to talk to us in a way we can understand. It is the first time anyone has done so. You ask us to think what place we like next best to this place where we always live.

You see the graveyard over there. There are our fathers and our grandfathers. You see that Eagle Nest Mountain and that Rabbit Hole Mountain? When God made them He gave us this place. We have always lived here. We would rather die here. Our fathers did. We cannot leave them.

Our children born here. How can we go away? If you give us the best place in the world, it is not so good for us as this. My people cannot go anywhere else; they cannot live anywhere else. Here they always live. These people always live here. There is no other place. This is our home.

There is no other place for us. We do not want you to buy any other place. If you do not buy this place, we will go into the mountains like quail and die there, the old people and the women and the children. Let the government be glad and proud. It can kill us. We do not fight. We do what it says. If we cannot live here, we want to go into those mountains and die. We do not want any other home.

Hearing on the Purchase of Land for the Cupeño Indians, Warner's Hot Springs 1902. Cited in the San Diego Union 5?31?1976 B?3.

See Your Homes for the Last Time

In spite of Blacktooth's impassioned plea, in 1903 the Cupeño tribe were forcibly removed from their traditional ancestral lands at Cupa. Rosinda Nolasquez was eleven years old at the time and remembered the tragic event well. Roscinda is describing how her people were told to visit their cemetery for the last time; to bid farewell to their homeland. The trek to their new home at Pala was less than 60 miles away yet it was unimaginably distant. Her account given to anthropologist Jane Hill in 1962 is a unique blend of touching first person account and accurate history.

Yesterday I was telling this history, I did not finish. From there they moved us, from our homes, from Cupa. Many carts stood there by the door. People came from La Mesa, Santa Ysabel, from Wilakal, from San Ignacio they came to see their relative. They cried a lot. And they [government agents] just threw our belongings, our clothes, into the cart, chairs, cups, plates. They piled everything into the carts. First they said to them,' Go and see your relatives for the last time now. You're never going to see them again.' They went to the cemetery, there they wept. Then it was time to move out. Still they did not move. They could not move outside, they stayed there by the gate. And my great?grandmother went running away into the mountains. And she said, `I will stay, even if I die, even if the coyotes eat me.' she said, it is said. `Now I am going away', she said. She kept on going climbing away, and them from there the people moved from the cemetery, they were weeping.

And then from there they moved us. And there was the little chapel there on a little hill. And they said to them, `Now look behind you, see your homes for the last time'. But no one turned around. Still they said not one word to them, And from there they left then. They kept going westward. They did not look back again. They were very angry. And they said `Tomorrow up there some time that water will dry up, and then you'll learn your lesson', they said. They did not want to leave."

"Leaving Warner's Hot Springs, Part IL " Collected by J. H. Hill, August, 1962. Told by Rosinda Nolasquez. Cited in Mulu'wetam: The First People. Edited by Jane H. Hill and Rosinda Nolasquez, (Malki Museum Press: Banning, California, 1973) p. 23a.

INDIAN REFLECTIONS ON THE AMERICANS AND OTHERS

Why Does He Not Come To See Us?

In the early years of California statehood, the southern tribes went largely unnoticed by federal officials. Five years after the Senate rejection of the 185018512 California Indian treaties, tribes in San Diego County were still uncertain of their status and bewildered by the various government leaders who claimed dominion over them. What was clear to the Indians was that the tribes to north received federal attention.

Establishment of the Tejon Reservation in 1851 and others in the Central Valley over the next two years, must have left the San Diego Indians wondering when land would be aside for them. Speaking of California Indian Superintendent Thomas J.Henley, Luiseño tribal leader Manuel Cota spoke for many San Diego County Indians when he inquired as to why Henley seemed predisposed to deal only with the tribes of the north. Cota asked:

"Why does he not come to see us as well as the Indians of the Tulare and the Indians of the north ...we claim as much attention as they do."

U. S. Congress, House, H.S. Burton to Major E.D. Townsend, Mission San Diego, January 27, 1856, "Report on the Mission Indians", House Executive Document. 76, 34th Congress, 3rd Session, 1856, p. 115.
God Gave It To Us First The Seboba (Saboba) people are a member of the Serrano tribe. They speak the Shoshonean language and are closely related to the Luiseño and the Juaneno. These people have traditionally lived in the San Jacinto Valley in what is now Riverside County. In the mid?1880s Seboba land was sold to white settlers as part of the break?up of the Jose Estudillo land grant. Helen H. Jackson visited Seboba village and provided the following letter from a young Seboba student, Ramon Caval. Jackson noted that the letter was written without the knowledge of the Indian school teacher and that the handwriting was "clear and good. " The letter, circa 1885, is one of two included in a special appendix to Century of Dishonor.

To the President of the United States:

Mr. President: Dear Sir,??I wish to write a letter to you and I will try and tell you some things. The white people call San Jacinto rancho their land, and I don't want them to do it. We think it is ours, for God gave it to us first. Now I think you will tell me what is right, for you have been so good to us, giving us a school and helping us. Will you not come to San Jacinto some time to see us, the school, and the people of Saboba [sic] village?

Many of the people are sick, and some have died. We are so poor that we have not enough food for the sick, and sometimes I am afraid that we are all going to die. Will you please tell what is good about our ranches, and come soon to see us?

Your friend, Ramon Caval.
Helen H. Jackson. Century of Dishonor., (Roberts Brothers: Boston, 1887), pp. 479480

TRYING TO BE FRIENDS

With the coming of the Mexican?American War and the takeover of California by the United States, some Indian leaders saw political advantage in siding with the Americans. In San Diego County, Pablo Apis of the Luiseño and Toma's leader of the Santa Ysabel Kumeyaay were early supporters of the Americans. As is well documented in George Harwood Phillips' excellent work, Chiefs and Challengers, several influential Indian leaders sought to consolidate their own power by serving as a buffer between so?called hostile Indians and white settlements and by actively hunting down supposed Indian enemies of the whites.

We Are and Ever Have Been Their Friends

In July 1852, six months after the execution of Antonio Garra, San Diego County was still gripped by fears of an Indian insurrection. Geronimo, a rebel chief of the desert Kamia, had entered into the area possibly with plans of attacking a military supply train. Although several Indian leaders loyal to the Americans were tracking Geronimo, Tomas the Kumeyaay leader of Santa Ysabel actually captured him. Toma's put Geronimo on trial and chastised the doomed leader with these words: when the Americans under General Kearny took possession of this country, routing our cowardly oppressors, you as a big Captain of your tribe swore to be their friend. I and my people did the same, and we aided the Americans in the war; we are and ever have been their friends. You are a liar??have not kept your word, sided with Antonio Garra last winter in the war against the Americans. You helped to kill the sheepmen on the desert; you are continually stealing from the Americans ....you are to be shot, and I shall scalp you and cut off one of your ears to send to San Diego.

True to his word, Toma's had Geronimo executed after which he was scalped and suffered a severed ear. Seeking favor from white authorities in San Diego, Toma's presented the scalp and ear as proof of his loyalty to the Americans.

Speech cited in unattributed newspaper article in the "Scrapbooks of Benjamin Hayes, " September 15, 1852, Vol 38, Bancroft Library, Berkeley.

My People Are Buried All Around

Probably no Indian leader of the region was more sympathetic to the Americans than Juan Antonio, a powerful Cahuilla chieftain from the San Bernardino region. While there were occasional tensions and misunderstandings between Juan Antonio and some American officials, he remained a friend and ally of the whites until his death. Yet, Juan Antonio's friendship and efforts to maintain peace did not lessen his sense of justice or dim his view of wrongs perpetrated on his people. On the occasion of demanding that prisoner who had killed another Indian be
released from white custody in San Bernardino, Juan Antonio told an audience in December 1861 that:

My people come here to the white people, and walk about, and the white men give them whiskey, and then they try to get their squaws, and then they fight. My people are buried all around, killed by white men. I shall take my people all away from this place [San Bernardino], and then there will be no more of this.

I am an American??my people are all Americans, although we are Indians. If we should hear of armed men in these mountains, we should come and tell you, and help you to fight them. If bad men should come here to fight you, we should fight with you. This is our country, and it is yours. We are your friends, we want you to be ours.

Amidst a terrible epidemic that ravaged his village early in 1863, Juan Antonio died of smallpox. Juan Antonio's speech was printed in the San Bernardino Weekly Patriot, December 7, 1861.