VII. MINOR RAIDS AND FORAYS, 1810-1820
Apart from the records of major expeditions given in the previous chapters a few scattered items from the Bancroft Library documents are worth presenting. The first six below refer to various informal forays and raids and give an idea of the character of these in the period near 1820. The last two are excerpts from recollections of early Spanish and Mexican pioneers as recounted to Hubert Howe Bancroft’s assistants in 1877 or 1878. The historical accuracy of these last is low, since they refer to events which occurred sixty-five years before the telling. Nevertheless, the personal flavor is worth preserving, including the unabashed boastfulness. No detailed comment is required.
Fr. Juan Cabot to Captain de la Guerra
San Miguel, May 23, 1818
(De la Guerra Docs., VII: 88-89)
In the village of Tulame
there are at present thirty-three Christians from several missions; as a rule, this is the place of refuge ... from the direction of Santa Barbara there is no access because everything is surrounded by water, but by way of Bubal there is access.
Before getting to Telame there are five villages, among them Quiuamine, where they killed the Christian of San Buenaventura. The Santa Barbara soldiers could stop them from escaping by water. In Yulumne there are some [fugitives] also.
If the other villages are treated in a friendly manner, without our giving any indication of our intentions, and the first blow is struck, I doubt if there will be any more trouble.
Regarding Telame, he says that he was there twice in different years. The first year he did not see the people “because they were almost entirely dispersed and debilitated from starvation.” The second time the people were there. The village is situated opposite the mission, a league from the Sierra Nevada, in an immense oak forest—many Indians, docile and friendly, who do not admit fugitives to their village. A little farther toward Santa Barbara is Choimoc, of the same type and character, but not as large. “None of these villages has a fixed position, but the variation is less than half a league.”
[Governor] to Captain Luís Argüello
Rancho de Real Hacienda, September 14, 1819
(Cal. Arch., St. Pap., Sacramento, II: 241-242)
He says that the time has come to make the expedition at San José. The primary object is to recover the fugitives from that mission and chastise the heathen Indians who are sheltering them, as well as to take away from them the horses which, according to what Father Narciso Duran has told him, are in their possession. He considers that Sergeant José Sanchez is competent to lead the expedition, but only because he [Argüello] feels himself indisposed. For this purpose he is sending forty men who have arrived from San Blas. He [Argüello] will instruct them day and night in the operation of their weapons.
[Governor] to Captain Luís Argüello
Rancho Rey, October 13, 1819
(Cal. Arch., St. Pap., Sacramento, II: 243-244)
He thinks the expedition must have started to the outskirts of San José for the purpose of recapturing the horses from the wild Indians, and he has given orders that Lieutenant Estudillo, with Sergeant Pico and thirty men, set out to make a campaign.
[Governor] to Captain Luís Argüello
Monterey, November 3, 1819
(Cal. Arch., St. Pap., Sacramento, II: 244)
He will bring to the attention of the viceroy the success of the campaign made against the village of the Muquelenis.
Father Juan Martinez to Governor Sola
San Miguel, November 6, 1820
(Archbishop’s Arch., IV (1): 174)
Says that it is necessary, in compliance with his duty, to go to the villages of the Valley, Bubal, Telame, and Notonto, to confess and instruct....
He asks that he be furnished a guard for the trip so that it may be successful, both going and coming.
Father Esteban Tapis to Governor Sola
San Juan Bautista, January 22, 1821
(Archbishop’s Arch., IV (1): 199)
Last night, to his pleasure, he was visited by thirty-three heathen recently arrived from the Tulare Valley in search of baptism. Seven of them were married to seven female converts. Three brought their women who are heathen. Thirteen are single young persons or adults from nine to forty years of age. Six are infants.
They are from the villages of Hualquem, or Hualquemne, Notvolitch, Huohual, and Quisats.
José Canuto Boronda, “Notas Históricas sobre California,” 1878
The first campaign on which I went was to Kings River, which comes from the slopes of the mountains and enters Tulare Lake; from there it goes to the junction with the San Joaquin River.
At that place there were several Indian villages which had given shelter to fugitive Christian Indians from the missions. They brought out the Christian Indians they had with them and promised in the future to shelter no more runaways. The custom was, if they defaulted on that promise or committed acts of hostility, to fall upon them with military power and capture them all, taking them by force to the missions in order to baptize them. [Pp. 2-3.]...
When I was a recruit we went on a campaign to the village of Tachi. While there, I saw one of our Indian auxiliaries from San Miguel seize an old Indian woman with completely white hair. The Indian was going to kill her when I stopped him. But the Indian had already fired an arrow at close range, which perforated her skin on one side but did not enter her body. The arrows were raining around me and I had to pay attention to warding them off. When I was able to turn around again, I saw that an Indian had covered up the poor old woman with firewood and had ignited it so as to burn her alive. I ran to her and with my spear had begun to remove the burning sticks when an arrow split the crown of my hat. Sergeant Espinosa, our Commander, yelled to me to leave the old woman and look after my own safety—but I pulled the fire away from the unfortunate Indian woman—although Father Juan Cabot himself said to me that this was no occasion suitable for a show of charity and neglect of my own interest. The Indians jumped into the lake and crossed into the swamps where it was not possible for us to follow them. These and other Indians used to have underground chambers from which they shot arrows. In some places everything would seem smooth and even, but on going across the top, horse and all would go to the bottom. These falls were extremely dangerous because the Indians would finish off the horse before he could get up. [Pp. 13-15.]
Inocente García, “Hechos Históricos de California,” 1878
After a few months I was selected to go on a campaign with five other men—Antasio Mendoza, Manuel Butron, José de las Llagas García, Dámaso Soto, and Ramón Martinez—under the orders of Sergeant José Dolores Pico.[1] We accompanied Father Arroyo de la Cuesta to the other side of Santa Rita to the villages of Jayaya and Tapé (Mission San Juan Bautista) in search of young girls [monjas] whom the chiefs of these villages had offered us [i.e., for baptism].
Father Arroyo had arranged with chief Jayaya that we should come and get the girls—I already knew a little of the language of that place. Sergeant Pico took thirty armed Indians from the mission to go with us. We traveled to Jayaya and Tapé, in which there were numerous Indians. Chief Tapé had gone to La Soledad, and Father Arroyo was under the impression that he had returned to his village. Consequently the Indians did not know of the arrangements made at the mission and on our arrival we met the warriors armed and ready to fight us. The sergeant ordered our Indian auxiliaries to march straight on the village. I saw clearly that the enemy were going to overwhelm us with arrows if we did not proceed carefully, and said so to my comrades. The guide who was directing us said to the Father that the only approach was a thousand yards higher up. We went that way in order to protect our auxiliaries, who were already fighting. Two of our Indians were already dead, but we did not know it, when the auxiliaries began to run with the enemy after them.
The situation was bad, and confused, for we could not give way a step so as not to abandon our missionary. I said to Dámaso Soto, who was with me ahead of the others, that he should take out his shield, for the Indians had been putting me under heavy fire, while I covered him with mine. While Soto was getting out his shield, an arrow went through it from the back, and he started running to join the others who were with the Father. I found myself alone. So I made my adversaries think that I was going to shoot them with my musket, although I only pointed it at them. When they ducked, I began to retreat, moving backward little by little until I knew I was far enough away. Then I jumped on my horse and ran to join the others.
There I saw that Father Arroyo was talking to the Indians in their language and that they were paying no heed to him. Arrows were hailing around the Father and the soldiers and one struck the knee of my horse. I jumped to the ground and cried: “In the name of the King, everybody fire!” That I said because the Sergeant had warned us not to fire. The Father, the Sergeant, and Dámaso Soto began to run. I and the rest of my companions stayed fighting the enemy until we managed to bring down their chief, who was all adorned with feathers. This caused them to cease attacking us. Already the Indians had gained possession of the spare horses, the provisions, etc. Then I said to Manuel Butron that, since he was the senior man, he should assume command and we would all obey him, so as to aid our Indians to recover the horses from the enemy, etc. We succeeded in this, saving everything and recapturing our two [dead] auxiliaries and five live ones who were hidden in the arroyo of Santa Rita where the tules were high.
We loaded the two dead men and went to catch up with Father Arroyo, the Sergeant, and Dámaso Soto. They were about three leagues away on the slope of the hills at the place they call Baños del Padre Arroyo. The Father asked us to go to La Soledad, where the Governor was, and send the dead to San Juan. [Pp. 10-13.]