CHAPEL OF SANTA MARGARITA (SAN LUIS OBISPO)
One of the ranches of San Luis Obispo was that of Santa Margarita on the north side of the Sierra Santa Lucia. As far as I know there is no record of the date when the chapel was built, yet it was a most interesting and important structure.
In May, 1904, its identity was completely destroyed, its interior walls being dynamited and removed and the whole structure roofed over to be used as a barn.
It originally consisted of a chapel about 40 feet long and 30 feet wide, and eight rooms. The chapel was at the southwest end. The whole building was 120 feet long and 20 feet wide. The walls were about three feet thick, and built of large pieces of rough sandstone and red bricks, all cemented strongly together with a white cement that is still hard and tenacious. It is possible there was no fachada to the chapel at the southwest end, for a well-built elliptical arched doorway, on the southeast side, most probably was the main entrance.
It has long been believed that this was not the only Mission building at Santa Margarita. Near by are three old adobe houses, all recently renovated out of all resemblance to their original condition, and all roofed with red Mission tiles. These were built in the early days. The oldest Mexican inhabitants of the present-day Santa Margarita remember them as a part of the Mission building.
Here, then, is explanation enough for the assumption of a large Indian population on this ranch, which led the neighboring padres to establish a chapel for their Christianization and civilization. Undoubtedly in its aboriginal days there was a large Indian population, for there were all the essentials in abundance. Game of every kind--deer, antelope, rabbits, squirrels, bear, ducks, geese, doves, and quail--yet abound; also roots of every edible kind, and more acorns than in any other equal area in the State. There is a never failing flow of mountain water and innumerable springs, as well as a climate at once warm and yet bracing, for here on the northern slopes of the Santa Lucia, frost is not uncommon.
CHAPEL OF SANTA ISABEL (SAN MIGUEL)
I have elsewhere referred to the water supply of Santa Isabel as being used for irrigation connected with San Miguel Mission. There is every evidence that a large ranchería existed at Santa Isabel, and that for many years it was one of the valued rancheros of the Mission. Below the Hot Springs the remains of a large dam still exist, which we now know was built by the padres for irrigation purposes. A large tract of land below was watered by it, and we have a number of reports of the annual yield of grain, showing great fertility and productivity. Near the present ranch house at Santa Isabel are large adobe ruins, evidently used as a house for the majordomo and for the padre on his regular visitations to the ranchería. One of the larger rooms was doubtless a chapel where mass was said for the neophytes who cultivated the soil in this region.
CHAPEL OF SAN ANTONIO DE PALA
The chapel at Pala is perhaps the best known of all the asistencias on account of its picturesque campanile. It was built by the indefatigable Padre Peyri, in 1816, and is about twenty miles from San Luis Rey, to which it belonged. Within a year or two, by means of a resident padre, over a thousand converts were gathered, reciting their prayers and tilling the soil. A few buildings, beside the chapel, were erected, and the community, far removed from all political strife, must have been happy and contented in its mountain-valley home. The chapel is a long, narrow adobe structure, 144 by 27 feet, roofed with red tiles. The walls within were decorated in the primitive and singular fashion found at others of the Missions, and upon the altar were several statues which the Indians valued highly.
Pala is made peculiarly interesting as the present home of the evicted Palatingwa (Hot Springs) Indians of Warner's Ranch. Here these wretchedly treated "wards of the nation" are now struggling with the problem of life, with the fact ever before them, when they think, (as they often do, for several of them called my attention to the fact) that the former Indian population of Pala has totally disappeared. At the time of the secularization of San Luis Rey, Pala suffered with the rest; and when the Americans finally took possession it was abandoned to the tender mercies of the straying, seeking, searching, devouring homesteader. In due time it was "home-steaded" The chapel and graveyard were ultimately deeded back; and when the Landmarks Club took hold it was agreed that the ruins "revert to their proper ownership, the church."
Though all the original Indians were ousted long ago from their lands at Pala, those who lived anywhere within a dozen or a score miles still took great interest in the old buildings, the decorations of the church, and the statues of the saints. Whenever a priest came and held services a goodly congregation assembled, for a number of Mexicans, as well as Indians, live in the neighborhood.
That they loved the dear old asistencia was manifested by Americans, Mexicans, and Indians alike, for when the Landmarks Club visited it in December, 1901, and asked for assistance to put it in order, help was immediately volunteered to the extent of $217, if the work were paid for at the rate of $1.75 per day.
With a desire to promote the good feeling aimed at in recent dealings with the evicted Indians of Warner's Ranch, now located at Pala, the bishop of the diocese sent them a priest. He, however, was of an alien race, and unfamiliar with either the history of the chapel, its memories, or the feelings of the Indians; and to their intense indignation, they found that without consulting them, or his own superiors, he had destroyed nearly all the interior decorations by covering them with a coating of whitewash.
The building now is in fairly good condition and the Indians have a pastor who holds regular services for them. In the main they express themselves as highly contented with their present condition, and on a visit paid them in April, 1913, I found them happy and prosperous.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE MISSION INDIANS
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 family--that had no mother--suddenly 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 villages--it 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 lived--as a rule--in 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 schools--sometimes thousands of miles away--without 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 home--which by contrast must seem squalid indeed--to 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."
CHAPTER XXXIII
MISSION ARCHITECTURE
The question is often asked: Is there a Mission architecture? It is not my intention here to discuss this question in extenso, but merely to answer it by asking another and then making an affirmation. What is it that constitutes a style in architecture? It cannot be that every separate style must show different and distinct features from every other style. It is not enough that in each style there are specific features that, when combined, form an appropriate and harmonious relationship that distinguishes it from every other combination.
As a rule, the Missions were built in the form of a hollow square: the church representing the fachada, with the priests' quarters and the houses for the Indians forming the wings. These quarters were generally colonnaded or cloistered, with a series of semicircular arches, and roofed with red tiles. In the interior was the patio or court, which often contained a fountain and a garden. Upon this patio opened all the apartments: those of the fathers and of the majordomo, and the guest-rooms, as well as the workshops, schoolrooms and storehouses.
One of the strongest features of this style, and one that has had a wide influence upon our modern architecture, is the stepped and curved sides of the pediment.
This is found at San Luis Rey, San Gabriel, San Antonio de Padua, Santa Inés, and at other places. At San Luis Rey, it is the dominant feature of the extension wall to the right of the fachada of the main building.
On this San Luis pediment occurs a lantern which architects regard as misplaced. Yet the fathers' motive for its presence is clear: that is, the uplifting of the Sign whereby the Indians could alone find salvation.
Another means of uplifting the cross was found in the domes--practically all of which were terraced--on the summits of which the lantern and cross were placed.
The careful observer may note another distinctive feature which was seldom absent from the Mission domes. This is the series of steps at each "corner" of the half-dome. Several eminent architects have told me that the purpose of these steps is unknown, but to my simple lay mind it is evident that they were placed there purposely by the clerical architects to afford easy access to the surmounting cross; so that any accident to this sacred symbol could be speedily remedied. It must be remembered that the fathers were skilled in reading some phases of the Indian mind. The knew that an accident to the Cross might work a complete revolution in the minds of the superstitious Indians whose conversion they sought. Hence common, practical sense demanded speedy and easy access to the cross in case such emergency arose.
It will also be noticed that throughout the whole chain of Missions the walls, piers and buttresses are exceedingly solid and massive, reaching even to six, eight, ten and more feet in thickness. This was undoubtedly for the purpose of counteracting the shaking of the earthquakes, and the effectiveness of this method of building is evidenced by the fact that these old adobe structures still remain (even though some are in a shattered condition, owing to their long want of care) while later and more pretentious buildings have fallen.
From these details, therefore, it is apparent that the chief features of the Mission style of architecture are found to be as follows:
1. Solid and massive walls, piers and buttresses.
2. Arched corridors.
3. Curved pedimented gables.
4. Terraced towers, surmounted by a lantern.
5. Pierced Campanile, either in tower or wall.
6. Broad, unbroken, mural masses.
7. Wide, overhanging eaves.
8. Long, low, sloping roofs covered with red clay tiles.
9. Patio, or inner court.
In studying carefully the whole chain of Missions in California I found that the only building that contains all these elements in harmonious combination is that of San Luis Rey. Hence it alone is to be regarded as the typical Mission structure, all the others failing in one or more essentials. Santa Barbara is spoiled as a pure piece of Mission architecture by the introduction of the Greek engaged columns in the fachada. San Juan Capistrano undoubtedly was a pure "type" structure, but in its present dilapidated condition it is almost impossible to determine its exact appearance.
San Antonio de Padua lacks the terraced towers and the pierced campanile. San Gabriel and Santa Inés also have no towers, though both have the pierced campanile. And so, on analysis, will all the Missions be found to be defective in one or more points and therefore not entitled to rank as "type" structures.
As an offshoot from the Mission style has come the now world-famed and popular California bungalow style, which appropriates to itself every architectural style and no-style known.
But California has also utilized to a remarkable degree in greater or lesser purity the distinctive features of the Mission style, as I have above enumerated them, in modern churches, hospitals, school-houses, railway depots, warehouses, private residences, court-houses, libraries, etc.
Of greater importance, however, than the development of what I regard as a distinct style of architecture, is the development of the Mission spirit in architecture. Copying of past styles is never a proof of originality or power. The same spirit that led to the creation of the Mission Style,--the creative impulse, the originality, the vision, the free, imaginative power, the virility that desires expression and demands objective manifestation,--this was fostered by the Franciscan architects. This spirit is in the California atmosphere. A considerable number of architects have caught it. Without slavish adherence to any style, without copying anything, they are creating, expressing, even as did the Franciscan padres, beautiful thoughts in stone, brick, wood and reinforced concrete. In my magnum opus on Mission Architecture, which has long been in preparation, I hope clearly to present not only the full details of what the padres accomplished, but what these later creative artists, impelled by the same spirit, have given to the world.
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE GLENWOOD MISSION INN
It is an incontrovertible fact that no great idea ever rests in its own accomplishment. There are offshoots from it, ideas generated in other minds entirely different from the original, yet dependent upon it for life. For instance, which of the Mission fathers had the faintest conception that in erecting their structures under the adverse conditions then existing in California, they were practically originating a new style of architecture; or that in making their crude and simple chairs, benches and tables they were starting a revolution in furniture making; or that in caring for and entertaining the few travelers who happened to pass over El Camino Real they were to suggest a name, an architectural style, a method of management for the most unique, and in many respects the most attractive hotel in the world. For such indeed is the Glenwood Mission Inn, at Riverside, California, at this present time.
This inn is an honest and just tribute to the influence of the Old Mission Fathers of California, as necessary to a complete understanding of the far-reaching power of their work as is El Camino Real, the Mission Play, or the Mission Style of architecture. After listening to lectures on the work of the Franciscan padres and visiting the Missions themselves, its owners, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Miller, humanely interested in the welfare of the Mission Indians, collectors of the handicrafts of these artistic aborigines, and students of what history tells us of them, began, some twenty-five years ago, to realize that in the Mission idea was an ideal for a modern hotel. Slowly the suggestion grew, and as they discussed it with those whose knowledge enabled them to appreciate it, the clearer was it formulated, until some ten or a dozen years ago time seemed ripe for its realization. Arthur B. Benton, one of the leading architects of Southern California, formulated plans, and the hotel was erected. Its architecture conforms remarkably to that of the Missions. On Seventh Street are the arched corridors of San Fernando, San Juan Capistrano, San Miguel and San Antonio de Padua; inside is an extensive patio and the automobiles stop close to the Campanile reproducing the curved pediments of San Gabriel. On the Sixth Street side is the fachada of Santa Barbara Mission, and over the corner of Sixth and Orange Streets is the imposing dome of San Carlos Borromeo in the Carmelo Valley, flanked by buttresses of solid concrete, copies of those of San Gabriel.
The walls throughout are massive and unbroken by any other lines than those of doors, windows and eaves, and the roofs are covered with red tiles. In the Bell Tower a fine chime of bells is placed the playing of which at noon and sunset recalls the matins and vespers of the Mission days.
Within the building, the old Mission atmosphere is wonderfully preserved. In the Cloister Music Room the windows are of rare and exquisite stained glass, showing St. Cecilia, the seats are cathedral stalls of carved oak; the rafters are replicas of the wooden beams of San Miguel, and the balcony is copied from the chancel rail of the same Mission. Mission sconces, candelabra, paintings, banners, etc., add to the effect, while the floor is made in squares of oak with mahogany parquetry to remind the visitor of the square tile pavements found in several of the old Missions.
Daily--three times--music is called forth from the cathedral organ and harp, and one may hear music of every type, from the solemn, stately harmonies of the German choral, the crashing thunders of Bach's fugues and Passion music, to the light oratorios, and duets and solos of Pergolesi.
By the side of the Music Room is the Cloistered Walk, divided into sections, in each of which some distinctive epoch or feature of Mission history is represented by mural paintings by modern artists of skill and power. The floor is paved with tiles from one of the abandoned Missions.
Beyond is the Refectorio, or dining-room of an ancient Mission, containing a collection of kitchen and dining utensils, some of them from Moorish times. It has a stone ceiling, groined arches, and harvest festival windows, which also represent varied characters, scenes, industries and recreations connected with old Mission life.
Three other special features of the Mission Inn are its wonderful collection of crosses, of bells, and the Ford paintings. Any one of these would grace the halls of a national collection of rare and valuable antiques. Of the crosses it can truthfully be said that they form the largest and most varied collection in the world, and the bells have been the subject of several articles in leading magazines.
The Ford paintings are a complete representation of all the Missions and were made by Henry Chapman Ford, of Santa Barbara, mainly during the years 1880-1881, though some of them are dated as early as 1875.
The Glenwood Mission Inn proved so popular that in the summer and fall of 1913 two new wings were added, surrounding a Spanish Court. This Court has cloisters on two sides and cloistered galleries above, and is covered with Spanish tile, as it is used for an open air dining-room. One of the new wings, a room 100 feet long by 30 feet wide, and three stories high, with coffered ceiling, is a Spanish Art Gallery. Here are displayed old Spanish pictures and tapestries, many of which were collected by Mr. Miller personally on his European and Mexican trips.
At the same time the dining-room was enlarged by more than half its former capacity, one side of it looking out through large French windows on the cloisters and the court itself. This necessitated the enlargement of the kitchen which is now thrown open to the observation of the guests whenever desired.
Taking it all in all, the Glenwood Mission Inn is not only a unique and delightful hostelry, but a wonderful manifestation of the power of the Franciscan friars to impress their spirit and life upon the commercial age of a later and more material civilization.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE INTERIOR DECORATIONS OF THE MISSIONS
We cannot to-day determine how the Franciscans of the Southwest decorated the interiors of all their churches. Some of these buildings have disappeared entirely, while others have been restored or renovated beyond all semblance of their original condition. But enough are left to give us a satisfactory idea of the labors of the fathers and of their subject Indians. At the outset, it must be confessed that while the fathers understood well the principles of architecture and created a natural, spontaneous style, meeting all obstacles of time and place which presented themselves, they showed little skill in matters of interior decoration, possessing neither originality in design, the taste which would have enabled them to become good copyists, nor yet the slightest appreciation of color-harmony. In making this criticism, I do not overlook the difficulties in the way of the missionaries, or the insufficiency of materials at command. The priests were as much hampered in this work as they were in that of building. But, in the one case, they met with brilliant success; in the other they failed. The decorations have, therefore, a distinctly pathetic quality. They show a most earnest endeavor to beautify what to those who wrought them was the very house of God. Here mystically dwelt the very body, blood, and reality of the Object of Worship. Hence the desire to glorify the dwelling-place of their God, and their own temple. The great distance in this case between desire and performance is what makes the result pathetic. Instead of trusting to themselves, or reverting to first principles, as they did in architecture, the missionaries endeavored to reproduce from memory the ornaments with which they had been familiar in their early days in Spain. They remembered decorations in Catalonia, Cantabria, Mallorca, Burgos, Valencia, and sought to imitate them; having neither exactitude nor artistic qualities to fit them for their task. No amount of kindliness can soften this decision. The results are to be regretted; for I am satisfied that, had the fathers trusted to themselves, or sought for simple nature-inspirations, they would have given us decorations as admirable as their architecture. What I am anxious to emphasize in this criticism is the principle involved. Instead of originating or relying upon nature, they copied without intelligence. The rude brick, adobe, or rubble work, left in the rough, or plastered and whitewashed, would have been preferable to their unmeaning patches of color. In the one, there would have been rugged strength to admire; in the other there exists only pretense to condemn.
After this criticism was written I asked for the opinion of the learned and courteous Father Zephyrin, the Franciscan historian. In reply the following letter was received, which so clearly gives another side to the matter that I am glad to quote it entire:
"I do not think your criticism from an artistic view is too severe; but it would have been more just to judge the decorations as you would the efforts of amateurs, and then to have made sure as to their authors.
"You assume that they were produced by the padres themselves. This is hardly demonstrable. They probably gave directions, and some of them, in their efforts to make things plain to the crude mind of the Indians, may have tried their hands at work to which they were not trained any more than clerical candidates or university students are at the present time; but it is too much to assume that those decorations give evidence even of the taste of the fathers. In that matter, as in everything else that was not contrary to faith or morals, they adapted themselves to the taste of their wards, or very likely, too, to the humor of such stray 'artists' as might happen upon the coast, or whom they might be able to import. You must bear in mind that in all California down to 1854 there were no lay-brothers accompanying the fathers to perform such work as is done by our lay-brothers now, who can very well compete with the best of secular artisans. The church of St. Boniface, San Francisco, and the church of St. Joseph, Los Angeles, are proof of this. Hence the fathers were left to their own wits in giving general directions, and to the taste of white 'artists,' and allowed even Indians to suit themselves. You will find this all through ancient Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. The Indians loved the gaudy, loud, grotesque, and as it was the main thing for the fathers to gain the Indians in any lawful way possible, the taste of the latter was paramount.
"As your criticism stands, it cannot but throw a slur upon the poor missionaries, who after all did not put up these buildings and have them decorated as they did for the benefit of future critics, but for the instruction and pleasure of the natives. Having been an Indian missionary myself, I acted just so. I have found that the natives would not appreciate a work of art, whereas they prized the grotesque. Well, as long as it drew them to prize the supernatural more, what difference did it make to the missionary? You yourself refer to the unwise action of the Pala priest in not considering the taste and the affection of the Indians."
Another critic of my criticism insists that, "while the Indians, if left to themselves, possess harmony of color which seems never to fail, they always demand startling effects from us." This, I am inclined to question. The Indians' color-sense in their basketry is perfect, as also in their blankets, and I see no reason for the assumption that they should demand of us what is manifestly so contrary to their own natural and normal tastes.
It must, in justice to the padres, be confessed that, holding the common notions on decoration, it is often harder to decorate a house than it is to build it; but why decorate at all? The dull color of the natural adobe, or plaster, would have at least been true art in its simple dignity of architecture, whereas when covered with unmeaning designs in foolish colors even the architectural dignity is detracted from.
One writer says that the colors used in these interior decorations were mostly of vegetable origin and were sized with glue. The yellows were extracted from poppies, blues from nightshade, though the reds were gained from stones picked up from the beach. The glue was manufactured on the spot from the bones, etc., of the animals slaughtered for food.
As examples of interior decoration, the Missions of San Miguel Arcángel and Santa Inés are the only ones that afford opportunity for extended study. At Santa Clara, the decorations of the ceiling were restored as nearly like the original as possible, but with modern colors and workmanship. At Pala Chapel the priest whitewashed the mural distemper paintings out of existence. A small patch remains at San Juan Bautista merely as an example; while a splashed and almost obliterated fragment is the only survival at San Carlos Carmelo.
At San Miguel, little has been done to disturb the interior, so that it is in practically the same condition as it was left by the padres themselves. Fr. Zephyrin informs me that these decorations were done by one Murros, a Spaniard, whose daughter, Mrs. McKee, at the age of over eighty, is still alive at Monterey. She told him that the work was done in 1820 or 1821. He copied the designs out of books, she says, and none but Indians assisted him in the actual work, though the padres were fully consulted as it progressed.
At Santa Barbara all that remains of the old decorations are found in the reredos, the marbleizing of the engaged columns on each wall and the entrance and side arches. This marble effect is exceedingly rude, and does not represent the color of any known marble.
In the old building of San Francisco the rafters of the ceiling have been allowed to retain their ancient decorations. These consist of rhomboidal figures placed conventionally from end to end of the building.
At Santa Clara, when the church was restored in 1861-1862, and again in 1885, the original decorations on walls and ceiling were necessarily destroyed or injured. But where possible they were kept intact; where injured, retouched; and where destroyed, replaced as near the original as the artist could accomplish. In some cases the original work was on canvas, and some on wood. Where this could be removed and replaced it was done. The retouching was done by an Italian artist who came down from San Francisco.
On the walls, the wainscot line is set off with the sinuous body of the serpent, which not only lends itself well to such a purpose of ornamentation, but was a symbolic reminder to the Indians of that old serpent, the devil, the father of lies and evil, who beguiled our first parents in the Garden of Eden.
In the ruins of the San Fernando church faint traces of the decorations o£ the altar can still be seen in two simple rounded columns, with cornices above.
At San Juan Capistrano, on the east side of the quadrangle, in the northeast corner, is a small room; and in one corner of this is a niche for a statue, the original decorations therein still remaining. It is weather-stained, and the rain has washed the adobe in streaks over some of it; yet it is interesting. It consists of a rude checkerboard design, or, rather, of a diagonal lozenge pattern in reds and yellows.
There are also a few remnants of the mural distemper paintings in the altar zone of the ruined church.
CHAPTER XXXVI
HOW TO REACH THE MISSIONS
SAN DIEGO. From Los Angeles to San Diego, Santa Fé Railway, 126 miles, one way fare $3.85; round trip $5.00, good ten days; or $7.00, good 30 days, with stop-over privileges at Oceanside, which allows a visit to San Luis Rey and Pala (via Oceanside) and San Juan Capistrano. Or steamship, $3.00 and $2.25; round trip, first class, $5.25. The Mission is six miles from San Diego, and a carriage must be taken all the way, or the electric car to the bluff, fare five cents; thence by Bluff Road, on burro, two miles, fare fifty cents. The better way is to drive by Old Town and return by the Bluff Road.
SAN LUIS REY. From Los Angeles to Oceanside, Santa Fé Railway, 85 miles, fare $2.55; round trip, ten days, $4.60. Take carriage from livery, or walk to Mission, 4 miles. The trip to Pala may be taken at the same time, though sleeping accommodations are uncertain at Pala. Meals may be had at one or two of the Indian houses, as a rule.
SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO. From Los Angeles to Capistrano, Santa Fé Railway, 58 miles, fare $1.70. The Mission is close to the station. Hotel accommodations are poor.
SAN GABRIEL. From Los Angeles to San Gabriel, Southern Pacific Railway, 8 miles, fare 25 cents. Or Pacific electric car from Los Angeles, 25 cents.
SAN FERNANDO. From Los Angeles to San Fernando, Southern Pacific Railway, 21 miles, fare 65 cents. Thence by carriage or on foot or horseback to the Mission, 1 1/2 miles. Livery and hotel at San Fernando.
SAN BUENAVENTURA. From Los Angeles to San Buenaventura, Southern Pacific Railway, 76 miles, fare $2.30. Or steamship, $2.35, special, Saturday to Monday, $3.00 round trip. Electric cars from Southern Pacific Station pass the Mission.
SANTA BARBARA. From Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, Southern Pacific Railway, fare $3.15; special round trip, Saturday to Monday, $3.50. From San Francisco to Santa Barbara, 370 miles, Southern Pacific Railway, fare $13.40 and $11.65. Street car passes the Mission.
SANTA INÉS. This is not on the line of any railway. It can be reached from Santa Barbara, 25 miles, by carriage, or from Los Olivos, four miles, by stage. Los Olivos is on the line of the Pacific Coast Railway. To reach it take Southern Pacific Railway to San Luis Obispo, change cars. It is then 66 miles to Los Olivos, fare $3.00. The better way is to go by Southern Pacific to Lompoc, take carriage and visit the site of Old La Purísima, then Purísima, then drive to Santa Inés and return. With a good team this can be done in a day. Distance 25 miles.
LA PURÍSIMA CONCEPCIÓN. Go to Lompoc on the coast line of the Southern Pacific either from Los Angeles (181 miles, $5.60) or San Francisco (294 miles, $9.35). Carriage from livery to the ruins of Old Purísima, thence to the later one, five miles.
SAN LUIS OBISPO. Southern Pacific Railway from either Los Angeles (222 miles, $6.70) or San Francisco (253 miles, $7.30), or steamship to Port Hartford and the Pacific Coast Railway, 211 miles, $6.50. The Mission is in the town.
SAN MIGUEL. The Mission is but a few rods from the Southern Pacific Station, reached either from Los Angeles (273 miles, $8.05) or San Francisco (208 miles, $5.95). By far the better way, however, is to go to Paso Robles, where one can bathe in the Hot Springs so noted even in Indian days, while enjoying the hospitalities of one of the best hotels on the Pacific Coast. Carriages may be secured from one of the livery stables. From here visit Santa Isabel Ranch and Hot Springs (which used to belong to San Miguel), then drive 16 miles to San Miguel. On account of the completeness of its interior decorations, this is, in many respects, especially to the student, the most interesting Mission of the whole chain.
SAN ANTONIO DE PADUA. It is a twenty-mile stage ride from King's City, on the line of the Southern Pacific (216 miles from Los Angeles, $9.35) to Jolon (fare $2.00), the quaintest little village now remaining in California, which is practically the gateway to Mission San Antonio de Padua. At Jolon one secures a team, and, after a six-mile drive through a beautiful park, dotted on every hand with majestic live-oaks,--ancient monarchs that have accumulated moss and majesty with their years,--the ruins of the old Mission come into view. From San Francisco to King's City is 164 miles, fare $4.65.
LA SOLEDAD. The Mission is four miles from the town of Soledad on the Southern Pacific Railway. From Los Angeles, 337 miles, fare $9.95. From San Francisco, 144 miles, fare $4.00. Livery from Soledad to the Mission.
SAN JUAN BAUTISTA is six miles from Sargent's Station on the Southern Pacific. Two stages run daily, fare $1.00 for the round trip. Visitors may be accommodated at the Plaza Hotel, conducted by William Haydon. From Los Angeles to Sargent's, 394 miles, fare $11.65. From San Francisco, 87 miles, fare $2.35.
SAN CARLOS BORROMEO, MONTEREY. The old presidio church is in the town of Monterey, and reached by car-line from Hotel del Monte or the town. San Carlos Carmelo is about six miles from Monterey, and must be reached by carriage or automobile. By far the best way is to stop at either Hotel del Monte or Hotel Carmelo, Pacific Grove, and then on taking the seventeen-mile drive, make the side trip to San Carlos. To Monterey from San Francisco, on the Southern Pacific Railway, is 126 miles, fare $3.00. Friday to Tuesday excursion, round trip, $4.50. From Los Angeles to Monterey, Southern Pacific Railway, 398 miles, fare $11.45.
SANTA CRUZ. It is well to go from San Francisco on the narrow gauge, 80 miles, Southern Pacific, and return on the broad gauge, 121 miles. Fare on either line $2.80. On the narrow gauge are the Big Trees, at which an interesting stop-over can be enjoyed.
SANTA CLARA. While there is a city of Santa Clara it is better to go to San José (the first town established in California), and stay at Hotel Vendome, and then drive or go by electric car, down the old Alameda to Santa Clara Mission, 3-1/2 miles.
MISSION SAN JOSÉ. So called to distinguish it from the city of San José. By Southern Pacific Railway from San Francisco to Irvington, 34 miles, fare 85 cents. Or from the city of San José, 14 miles by Southern Pacific, or a pleasant carriage drive. From Irvington to the Mission, three miles, stage twice daily, fare 25 cents.
SAN FRANCISCO DE ASIS is on Sixteenth and Dolores Streets, three miles from Palace Hotel. Take Valencia or Howard electric cars.
SAN RAFAEL. There is nothing left at San Rafael of the old Mission. The town is reached by North Pacific Coast Railway, 18 miles, or California Northwestern, 15 miles, fare 35 cents.
SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO is in the town of Sonoma. Reached by North Pacific Coast Railway, 43 miles, fare $1.00.