White conquest

LIBRARY

'NJV€IS*Y Of
CALIFOtNIA /

WHITE CONQUEST

VOL. I.

LONDON : PRINTED BY

SPCTTIS'WOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREE1'

WHITE CONQUEST

BY

WILLIAM HEPWORTE DIXON

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY

1876

All rights reserved

f.

TO

MAKIAN

THESE PICTURES

OF

THE GREAT CONFLICT OF RACES
ON THE AMERICAN SOIL

AS SEEN IN
i8?5

ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED

ST. JAMKH'S TEKKACE
Aug. 23, ]875

4G5

CONTENTS

OF

THE FIEST VOLUME.

CHAPTER PAGR

I. SAN CARLOS 1

II. MISSION INDIANS ........ 8

III. STRANGERS IN THE LAND . ... 19

IV. A LOST CAPITAL 28

V. DON MARIANO 37

VI. WHITE CONQUERORS 40

VII. HYBRIDS 58

VIII. BRIGANDS 67

IX. CAPTAIN VASQUEZ 77

X. BRIGAND LIFE 88

XI. LOVE AND DEATH 101

XII. CATHOLIC MISSIONS 110

XIII. THE JESUITS 122

XIV. JESUITS' PUPILS . 182

viii CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAPTER

XV. BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO 143

XVI. SAN FRANCISCO . . . . . . . . 154

XVII. WHITE WOMEN 164

XVIII. BUCKS AND SQUAWS 173

XIX. RED MORMONISM 182

XX. WHITE INDIANS 193

XXI. POLYGAMY 204

XXII. INDIAN SEERS . 215

XXIII. COMMUNISM . . 227

XXIV. WHITE VENDETTA 239

XXV. THE RED WAR 251

XXVI. CHEROKEE FEUDS 262

XXVII. A ZAMBO VILLAGE . . 272

XXVIII. SAVAGE SLAVERY 282

XXIX. IN CADDO 293

XXX. OKLAHOMA 302

XXXI. RED AND BLACK 310

XXXII. A FRONTIER TOWN 318

XXXI II. TEXAS AND TEXANS 325

XXXIV. THE THREE RACES 336

XXXV. THE GULF OF MEXICO ... . 347

WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE I.

SAN CARLOS.

Euii\s ! A pile of stone, standing in a country of
mud-tracks, adobe ranches, and timber-sheds ? Yes,
broken dome, projecting rafter, crumbling wall, and
empty chancel, open to the wind and rain, poetic
wrecks of what, in days gone by, have been a
cloister and a church.

A wide and ragged field, enclosed within a fence
of sun-dried bricks, surrounds the fane, marking the
sacred precincts with a dark and perishing line.
No human form is seen, no human voice is heard.
An owl, disturbed in her siesta, lifts her brow
and hoots ; a lizard hisses through the weeds ; a
catamount, unused to tramp of horse and bark
of dog, deserts her hole and darts into the bush.
Near by, the ocean laps in measured tones along

VOL. i. B

2 WHITE CONQUEST.

a sandy beach. A cry of gulls and cormorants,
rising from a rock below the cliff, is answered by a
yell of sea-lions, fighting for their mates ; but these
mysterious voices from the depths of nature seem
to feed the silence, and make the solitude
complete.

Eein up, and scan the scene ; a dip in the
Pacific coast, between the heights of Monte Toro
and the Final Grande ; a scene to soothe the eye
with physical beauty and surprise the ear with
sacred and familiar names.

A spur runs out from the sierra towards the
ocean, covered with pines and oaks, until the ridge
breaks over the waters in a frown of rocks. Some
Spanish pilgrim called that spur Carmelo Eange,
the sheltered nook below the bluff Carmelo Bay.
The peak in front of Final Grande is Monte
Carmelo, and the foremost headland on the coast
Carmelo Foint.

North of this sacred spur, but running side
by side, a tamer spur drops down from Monte
Toro ; falling with a gentler slope and clothed in
softer woods ; a spur on which laurel and madrone
take the place of pine and oak,

SAN CARLOS.

A glen divides these spurs, through which
descends a stream, answering to the Kishon in
Galilee, and called by the old pilgrim Eio Carmelo.
Lovely as a painter's vision is this glen ; here,
hollow ground and dripping well ; there, ledge of
rock and slope of sward ; and here again, garden-
like copse and musical cascade; each nook com
manding a view over cypress knoll, bright stream,
green down, and blue illimitable sea.

Nestling in a hollow at our feet, half hidden by
the forest growths, yet with an out-look over ridge
and ocean, lie the broken stones and falling rafters
of San Carlos, a Franciscan church, built by Eed
men, natives of the country, acting under a company
of Spanish friars. These friars, heralds of the first
White Conquest of the Slope, brought into this
corner of the earth the torch of Gospel light, hoping
to convert and save some remnants of a savage and
neglected tribe.

Hitching our mustangs to a pine, and bidding
our dogs keep watch, we vault the fence of sun-
dried bricks, and feel our feet within the sacred
courts ; as sacred in this hour of ruin, as when cross
and pyx were carried round these walls by holy men,

B 2

4 WHITE CONQUEST.

and angelus and vesper swelled from the choir.
The soil is black, the odour aromatic ; for at every
step, you tread on thyme and sage. Sweet herbs
and grasses make their home along these shores.
Not long ago, the site now covered by the banks
and wharves of San Francisco, was known as Yerba
Buena, otherwise Good Herb, the Spanish name for
mint ; and yet these court-yards of San Carlos are
deserted wastes, choked up with briars, and scratched
by catamounts into deep and treacherous holes.
Along the outer fence stand wrecks of school and
bastion, hut and hospital, as desolate as a heap of
ruins on the Sea of Galilee. Blocks in which the
Eed-skins lodged and the Christian fathers prayed,
stand open to the sky, hedged in by weeds, and
overgrown with grass. Some hundreds of natives
lived within this fence, yet nothing but these heaps
of dust and earth remain. Adobe walls soon melt
away. The summer sun is frying them to dust ;
the winter rain is washing them to earth. Each
zephyr steals some grains of loam and drops them
over wood and field. Ere long, lovers of the past
will seek for them in vain.

The stone pile may stand a few years longer than

SAN CARLOS.

the earthen fence. San Carlos is a church of poor
materials, put together in the crude though showy
Mexican style. No beauty feeds the eye. No magic
clothes a gateway ; no enchantment lurks in shaft
and skyline ; yet a sacred edifice is always solemn,
and a broken arch affects our feelings like the
epitaph on a friend. The pathos of San Carlos lies
in the fact of its being the ruin of an Indian's church.
No door impedes our entrance to the nave, no
rail prevents our passage to the altar-steps. A
portion of the roof still rests on solid beams ; the
rest has fallen in, and helped to choke up nave
and chancel. No one seems to care. Starting the
squirrels from their holes, the night birds from
their nests, we pick our way from stone to stone.
A chapel stands near the gate, and a door within
the chancel opens into a sacristy. Some mural
paintings still remain on wall and vault ; such
painted scrolls and pious messages as you read in
village churches of Castillo.

ANGELES
SANTOS
LA BEMOS AI
COEOZON DE
JESUS.

6 WHITE CONQUEST.

A door, now rotting into dust, conceals the sa
cristy. Closed by a wooden peg, this door suggests
that some poor soul still cares for the old place.
Yes, some one cares. A Eumsen chief, old
Capitan Carlos, comes in once a year, to smooth
the falling stones and keep his memory of the
church alive.

On pushing the door ajar, a ray of light, a rush
of air, go with us into the sacristy. The floor is
mud. A broken table leans against the wall.
Above this table hang some poor oil pictures, in
the Spanish school of sacred art ; a faded Senora
of Carmelo, and by way of balance, a yet more
faded Jesu Christo. Covered by dust and grime
lie votive offerings of the village sort ; among the
heaps, a bunch of forest leaves, and a chaplet of
paper flowers.

All sorts of creeping things defile the floor and
wall. The room smells moist and mouldy ; so we
turn our faces towards the chancel, leaving our Lady
of Carmelo in the gloom, and shutting the door on
spiders, centipedes, forest leaves, and artificial
flowers.

This chancel has a purer interest than the sa-

SAN CARLOS. 7

cristy. Here stood the shrine, and here the sacred
lamps were lit. Some scraps of monkish art still
light the walls ; poor chequers, lozenges, and naming
hearts. Like other savages, the Kumsen of Cannelo
had to learn religion through the sense of sight.

The Cross has fallen down.

Inside the church, but near the door, some stakes
are driven into the ground. These stakes are stems of
pines. One stake has just been driven into the
earth ; a second has been snapt by falling stones.
Who plants these steins of pine in holy soil?

Here lies the mystery of that aged chief. Each
stake betrays an Indian grave, and tells the story
of a lost cause and vanishing race.

WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE II.

MISSION INDIANS.

THOUGH friar and priest have left the altars of San
Carlos to the owls and lizards, some of the converts
whom these fathers gathered into grace are staunch.
A squad of Mexicans, armed with writs and
rifles, drove out Fray Jose Maria, chief of the
Carmelo friars ; but neither writs nor rifles have
been able to drive off ' Capitan ' Carlos, patriarch of
the Carmelo camp. In dealing with Fray Jose Maria,
the liberators had no more to do than close his
church, disperse his brethren, seize his fields and
orchards ; but on turning to the native chief, they
could neither free his tribe, undo the teaching of his
priests, nor push him from the sanctuary of his
patron saint. Yielding to force, Fray Jose Maria
went to Mexico, where he has learned to serve
another altar, and ceased to think of his mission on
Carmelo Bay. Holding to his new creed with all

MISSION INDIANS. 9

a convert's ardour, Capitan Carlos hovers round his
ancient home, knowing no second fane, and clinging
to the saint whose name he bears. To him, and
to such rags and tatters of his tribe as yet remain
alive, San Carlos is a mighty chief, his porch an en
trance to the land of souls.

This Indian patriarch claims to be a hundred
and twenty-five years old. Such claims are not un
common in this zone. In every ranch you hear of
centenarians, and in many convent registers you
read of folk having lived to six- score years. Such
tales and records are not always false. The air is
mild, the eating good, the life unvexed. No burn
ing summers parch the skin, no freezing winters
chill the blood. From month to month the seasons
come and go in one soft . round of spring. In
winter it is May, in summer it is only June.

A native piques himself on length of days ; a
big chief wearing his crown of age like one of the
big trees. From his appearance, no one could
pretend to guess the patriarch's age ; for though his
eye is quick, his scalp is bare and black, his cheeks
are hollowed into cups, his skin hangs down his face
in flaps. Life seems to hold him only by a thread.

io WHITE CONQUEST.

In summer time lie dawdles in the woods ; in
winter time he hangs about the farms. Being known
to every settler, he is sure of bite and sup. His hands
can bait a snare and throw a hatchet ; yet the poor
old fellow is so much a savage, he would rather beg
than steal, and rather steal than work. Aged, but
not venerable, he loafs in front of whisky bars, and
fawns on strangers for a drink ; his thirst for ardent
waters being the only appetite that seems to have
outlived his six-score years and live.

You take the Indian as he is — a wreck and waste
of nature, even as this altar of San Carlos is a wreck
and waste of art. For twenty cents, laid out in
whisky, you may hear the story of his life, and in
that tale the romance of his tribe.

A youth when the first Spaniards came to
Monterey, Capitan Carlos saw Fray Junipero Serra
land his company of friars, Don Jose Rivera land his
regiment of troops. The Spaniards had already built
a Mission house at San Diego, and were creeping
upward towards the Golden Gate ; but no Carmelo
Indian had as yet beheld a White man's face. The
fathers raised a cross ; the troops unfurled a flag. A
psalm was sung, a cannon fired ; rites, as they said,

MISSION INDIANS. 11

which gave the people to God, the country to the
King of Spain.

These strangers built a castle on the hill, above
the spot on which they had raised their cross. They
fenced that castle round about with walls, on which
they mounted guns, and set a watch by day and
night.

Like all their brethren of the Slope, the Ked
men were a tame and feeble folk; munching
acorns as they fell, grubbing in the soil for roots,
and wading in the pools for fish. Some bolder
spirits chased the fox and trapped the catamount.
The bucks were fond of skins, but skins were only
to be got by daring deeds. No man, unless a chief,
had other clothing than a wrap about his loins, a
feather in his hair. Not one in twenty had so much.
The squaws were all but naked ; their summer suit
being an apron made of tule grass, their winter suit
a wrap,. of half-dried skin. Papooses, whether male
or female, wore no dress at all. A sense of shame
was no more present in a native lodge than in a
colony of seals.

These timid savages lived in hutches built of straw.
Herding in the woods like deer, they seldom washed,

12 WHITE CONQUEST.

and never combed. A little paint was all the un
guent they desired. A squaw tattooed her chin,
her neck, her breast ; a buck put on his face a dab
of paint. They fed on grubs and worms, on roots
and berries, living from hand to mouth, not caring
for the morrow's meal. All things were held by
them in common, like the grass and water in a
sheep-run, but the sweetest morsels and the warmest
skins were taken by the seers and chiefs. They saved
no roots, they dug no wells. Old legends told them
of a time when their fathers lived in towns, and they
had still a village system, with a show of ancient
rule and right. They chose a chief and made him
pope and king. This chief had a first choice of
squaws ; and took as many as his hutch would hold.
Catching them when he liked, he flung them from
him when he liked. An Indian female had no rights.
Poor souls, they knew no better in those pagan days,
before San Carlos sent his message to their tribe !

Capitan Carlos saw a band of friars come over the
ridge from Monterey, and plant a cross in ground
belonging to his tribe.

A cross appeared to be the White man's totem ;
for beside a great cross borne aloft, each father wore

MISSION INDIANS. 13

a small cross at his belt ; which he raised and
pressed to his lips whenever he either stopped to
sing or knelt to pray. The fathers built an altar,
spread a cloth, and, though the sun was burning,
lit some candles. They unfurled the banner of a
beautiful white squaw, whom they described as the
mother of a mighty prince ; a prince, who, in a
land beyond the sea, had suffered on the cross and
thereby saved the souls of men. They sang a psalm
which sounded to these children of the forest like a
strain of music from the spirit land.

At first the Indians held aloof. These strangers
came across the sea, like birds, no one knew whence.
Why had they come, unless to steal the squaws, to
cut the grass, and take away the elk and antelope ?
Yet, when the fathers raised 'the image of that
lovely squaw, and sang that music from the spirit
land, the Eed men crept beneath the fence of sun-
dried bricks, in order to behold that face and hear
that psalm. In time their fears were calmed. By
offering food to the hungry, clothes to the naked,
and potions to the sick, the good fathers won their
way into these savage and suspicious hearts. They
told the natives they had brought to them a message

14 WHITE CONQUEST.

from beyond the clouds. The Great Spirit, opening
a new and nearer path into the land of souls, had
given them San Carlos, one of the princes sitting in
Ins presence, as their guide and saint.

Who could repel such teachers ? The Franciscan
fathers were smooth of speech and grave of life. No
lie escaped their lips. No theft was traced to them.
They took no squaw by force, and drove no native
from his hutch. In all their actions they appeared
to be the Indian's friends.

These strangers gave new names to things.
They called the river Eio Carmelo, and the range
Monte Carmelo. That lovely squaw was named the
Lady of Carmelo. Savage, yet soft and curious, the
natives watched those friars. All secrets of the land
and sea were known to them. If roots were scarce,
these fathers walked into a copse and dug up more.
If fish ran short, they threw nets into the bay and
filled their creels. They knew all qualities of bark
and leaf, of herb and grass. They called the stars
by name, and understood the winds and tides.

By bit and bit they taught the Indian how to
till his soil, to net his stream, to snare his wood.
Instead of grubs and worms, the Indian soon began

MISSION INDIANS. 15

to feed on hare and snipe, on duck and trout. The
fathers taught him how to cook his food ; so that in
place of gobbling up his roots and reptiles, like a
beast, he learnt to dry his seed on stones and bake
his water-fowl in stoves.

The fathers built a church where they had fixed
the cross, and in this church they hung their image
of Our Lady of Carmelo. Fields were cleared and
sown with corn. Adobe bricks were dried, and
cedar trees were felled. Between the church and
glen a slope was trimmed for vines. Pears, apples,
nuts were planted in an orchard; and an olive
ground was laid out, in memory of the Syrian Mount.

What said the Indians? While the bucks
looked on, their squaws, more sensitive, brought
children to the friars, who gave them lessons in
the White man's creed, and marked their foreheads
with the White man's sign. A convert died ; the
music of the spirit land was sung above his grave.
What buck had ever seen and heard such funeral
rites ? The bucks came in, and asked to be baptised.

Fray Jose Maria lost no time in teaching creeds
and articles. An Indian crept into the church, and
asked to be adopted by the White man's saint.

1 6 WHITE CONQUEST.

c Kneel down,* replied the smiling friar ; ' now,
listen to my words, and say them after me : '.

BIOS,
JESU CHRISTO,

ESPERITU SANTO !

Hardly another word was spoken by the priest.
Crossing his convert, the father gave him a saintly
name, and sent him home a new man ; a member
of the Catholic Church, a subject of the King of
Spain.

Year after year the fathers ploughed and
garnered in this virgin soil. A street arose outside
the fence, in which the converts dwelt : poor bucks in
dug-outs roofed with logs ; chiefs and seers in cabins
of poles, roofed and clothed with mats. They lived
in peace. No hostile bands came on them in the
night ; their hutches were no longer burnt in war.
Even in their private feuds, no squaws were stolen,
no papooses killed. Their neighbours, the Tula-
renos, were converted like themselves, and owned a
patron saint. Snug in their huts, they learned to
wash their skins, and put on shirt and shawl. In
time they picked up various arts, learning how to

MISSION INDIANS. 17

tan hides, to press grapes, to boil soap, to shell
and pot peas. In terror of San Carlos, some of
these converts sold their extra squaws.

So things remained on the Carmelo for thirty
years. Fed, clothed, and taught, the natives lodged
beside the Mission-house ; neither increasing much,
nor mending fast ; yet clinging to the soil, and shed
ding bit by bit their savage ways. The friars were
tender towards Indian customs, especially in regard
to land and squaws. Yet, doing their best, accord
ing to the field in which they worked, these fathers
were content to rake and sow, and leave the
vintage for a distant time.

At length two parties rose among the Whites, a
clerical party and a secular party, who differed as to
what was best for these poor bucks and squaws.
The clerical party said the Indians were savages,
and should be governed by pastors and masters,
monks and priests. The secular party said the
natives were members of a free commonwealth, and
should be left to rule themselves. These parties
came to blows, and after cutting each other's throats
for several years, the secular party got the upper
hand. The fathers were expelled, the converts

VOL. I. C

1 8 WHITE CONQUEST.

liberated from their rule. To the surprise of Alva-
redo and his secular friends, the Indians began to
perish from the soil the moment they were free.

So long as Fray Jose Maria lingered at San
Carlos, his converts clung to him ; when he was
gone, they scattered to the woods. All efforts to
recall them fail. Yet these poor converts have not
lost all traces of a better time. San Carlos is their
patron saint. Once a year they come to see the
Lady of Carmelo, and to celebrate their patron's
day. Poor things ! They roast an ox — a stolen ox
by choice. They gorge all day, and dance all night.
Mixing up old and new, they keep the vigil of San
Carlos, not with fast and prayer, but feast and revel ;
ending in such orgies as might better suit an Indian
circle than a Christian church.

These rituals will not long survive. Each
season the converts drop in number. Long before
these sun-dried bricks have sunk into the earth, all
those who helped to build them will have passed
into the land of souls.

CHAPTEE III.

STRANGERS IN THE LAND.

THE ground is almost cleared ; cleared of the
original and the second growths. What crops will
occupy the soil ?

On strolling to the orchard, we find a Portu
guese squatter living in a mud hut, under a fruit
wall, and in the midst of apple trees.

'Fine apples, Senor/ smirks the Portuguese.
* Just try the flavour of our fruit.'

Though thin and cold, the acid has a grateful
taste ; but these Spanish apples cannot be compared
with the American variety, a fruit which is at once
meat and drink, food and medicine ; one of the
most gracious products of American soil and sun
shine.

' These trees seern old ? '

' Hundreds of years,7 rejoins the squatter, with

C2

20 WHITE CONQUEST.

Iberian fondness for antiquity and Indian ignorance
of dates. Yet they are old enough ; having out
lived the friars who planted them, and the natives
for whose benefit they were trained.

' You have a lovely country here about ; why is
Carmelo left a desert P '

' Ah ! ' the squatter laughs, ' you see the good
fathers have been driven away, and these poor
devils, whether Eedskins or Half-breeds, have now
no friends to tell them what to do/

' Tell them what to do ! The soil has not been
sent away, nor have the sunshine and the rain been
sent away. They have the wood, the river, and the
sea. Yon hills are full of ore, yon waters full of
fish.7

* Yes, Seiior, that is true ; but who will find that
ore and catch that fish ? '

' All those who want to eat, Cannot the Bed-
skin scale these heights, cannot the Half-breed
plough those seas ? '

' No Senor/ sneers the Portuguese ; ' no Indian
ever wrought a mine, no mixed-blood ever speared
a whale. Strangers may hunt for coal and gold,
and bring in whale and seal. You'll find some

STRANGERS IN THE LAND. 21

English miners in that range, some Portuguese
whalers in that bay ; but you will see no Mexicans,
either red or mixed, engaged in hardy work and
daring deed.'

' Bad roads down here ? ' we ask, on gathering
up the reins.

c Bad roads ! Ah, never mind, Seiior. Go on
— you'll find them worse — good bye ! '

Tearing through scrub and grass, we rattle
down the slope in search of a ford ; now startling
a hawk-owl from his perch, anon drawing up to
bang at snipe or teal. We reach the stream that
ought to be the Kishon, here a broad and shallow
river, rippling over beds of sand, and whispering to
an angler of abundant trout. When Capitan Carlos
was a buck of sixty, Eio Carmelo fed the mission
and the tribe ; but now no line is dropped into the
flood for trout, no snare is drawn across the ford
for duck. All nature at Carmelo runs to waste.

Crossing the ford and climbing up the slopes
towards Monte Carmelo, we crash our way through
trough and tangle, swarm up ridge and rock, each
moment getting deeper in the wood and higher on
the range, until we catch, some height above our

22 WHITE CONQUEST.

heads, an opening in the mountain side. There lie
the lodes ; there run the seams of coal. Yon cleft,
to which no native climbs, conceals a future town,
just as this acorn hides a future oak.

Two foreign artists come into these parts. For
what? To grow their beards, to bronze their
cheeks, to shake the dust of Paris from their feet.
A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San
Francisco ; where a man may smoke and laugh, sit
ting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours
which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks.
This circle gives them Mont Parnasse ; but they are
born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Don
ning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Taver-
nier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads
his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes
her moods with care ; noting how sunlight plays
with colour in the sea, and how metallic veins add
lustre to the earth. Seeking for beauty, they find a
seam of coal.

These young adventurers are tapping at the
mountain side, assisted by some friends from San
Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into
their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will

STRANGERS IN THE LAND. 23

ramble down this slope, with city-halls, hotels,
and banks. A school may occupy that copse, a
jail adorn this rising ground. New coiners will
be welcome to the Carmelo mountains, and the
White family will have gained another stronghold
on the Slope.

A steep and winding track leads down from
the ridges of Mount Carmelo to Carmelo Bay.

On crossing San Jose Creek, we catch the cry of
birds and seals, now and then broken by the bark of
sea-lions. A cove with curious port lies in our
front. No ships are in the road; no docks, no
piers, no landing stairs are visible; yet the place
must be a port. Five or six boats are bobbing on
the tide; strong six-oared boats, not built for
gliding over lakes and pools. Still larger craft are
beached in crevices of sand and rock. Half-naked
men are toiling on the shore. Some sheds lie in the
shadow of a granite wall, with piles of casks, as in
a brewer's yard. In several places jets of flame lap
out, and burning smoke is vomited on the air.
Cormorants fight among the rocks; and here the
carcase of a whale, his fat peeled off, is floating on
the tide.

24 WHITE CONQUEST.

Pushing into this tiny port, we come to these
half-naked men, and hear the story of Carmelo Bay.

Some Portuguese sailors found the deserted
quarries, where the monks had taught the Indians
how to cut stone, and fancying they could work
them for their profit, squatted on the spot. They
failed. A quarry man requires a builder, and the
men who built in stone were gone. Our mariners
had fallen on an age of logs. Unable to live by
stone, they thought of fish. There flowed the sea,
alive with smelts and seals. Below the headland
they could see the whales go sweeping by. Why
not put off in chase ? It was a dangerous trade ;
but when they plied it eagerly, they found it pay.

Six or eight men, they say, go out in each boat,
according to the number of oars. Two watch ; the
others pull. On darting his harpoon into a whale,
the leader pays out rope, and lets his victim writhe
and plunge. The fight is often long, and sometimes
fatal to the men. When hooked, the whale is
towed to port, where he is sliced and boiled.

' You have no natives living in your port ? '

' No, Senor, the natives are no good in a
whaling craft.'

STRANGERS IN THE LAND. 25

Noticing some foreign faces in the boats and
near the fires, Chinese and even Sandwich Islanders,
we ask the leading man whether he can employ
such fellows in his trade.

4 Not the Chinese,' he answers ; ' they are only
good for catching cuttle-fish and drying aballones.
Like the natives, they are skunks and cowards.
The Sandwich Islanders are a better lot ; but they
are hard to teach, and scarcely worth their salt.
We should be better off if we were left alone.'

* Have you Portuguese wives and families with
you ? '

' No, Senor ; we have to take such squaws as we
can get. Our lasses live at home, in Cascaes Bay
and other ports near Lisbon ; but we cannot fetch
them over half the globe. Santa Maria ! what are
men to do? We have to. buy our wives.'

To buy their wives ! Yes, buy their wives. It
is a custom of the country. The habit of buying
and selling young women has existed on this spot
time out of mind. If young women are not bought
they are always stolen, and the man is thought a
decent wooer who comes with money in his pocket
to an Indian lodge. No Eumsen or Tularenos ever

26 WHITE CONQUEST.

gave away his squaw for love. He sold her as he
sold a buffalo hide or catamount skin.

Fray Junipero tried to stop this sale of girls, but
his successors winked at customs which they had no
means of putting down. Castro and Alvaredo hoped
to crush this traffic, but their secular energies were
worsted in the vain attempt. Neither Liberal
Mexico nor Independent California was equal to
the task of wrestling with this evil. Indians sold
their children to Spanish dons and Mexican cabal-
leros, just as Georgians and Circassians sold their
girls to Greek skippers and Turkish pashas.

Even under the Stars and Stripes, and in a region
governed by American law, the trade goes on ; less
openly and briskly than in olden times ; but still the
Eed man's daughters are bought and sold, even in
the neighbourhood of American courts. It is a
custom of the country, which, like other maladies,
attacks the stranger when he lands. You catch a
local custom very much as you catch a local disease.
There is a fight between your constitution and the
malady. If you can compromise — you live ; if not
— you die.

c Yes, Seiior ! ' says the Portuguese sailor, ' we

STRANGERS IN THE LAND. 27

buy our wives for money, and are punished for the
sin. Our boys are only girls. They cannot lift a
weight or turn a wheel. When we drop off, the
whaling at Carmelo Bay will go into the hands of
bolder men.'

WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER IV.

A LOST CAPITAL.

LAPPING round Pinos Point, nine or ten miles from
the Old Quarries, the water races on a pale and
sandy beach, of bow-like form, ending in two
green and picturesque bluffs. One bluff is Santa
Cruz, the other Monterey. The arc is twenty miles
across ; a sweep of sunny water, over which flocks of
gulls and pelicans dart and flash. A slip of sand,
dotted along the line with ribs and tusks of whales,
so many that they look like drifts of snow, divides
the dark blue sea from amber dimes and light green
woods. A plain rolls inward into mounds and
ridges, covered to the top by oak and pine ; beyond
which forests rise the peaks and shoulders of the
Galivano range.

Not thirty minutes since, the sun laughed out in
front of us, peeping over Monte Toro with a face of
burning gold ; yet early in the day as it may seem,

A LOST CAPHAL. 29

we are already bathed in summer heat. Our craft
heaves idly on the waters, waiting for a sign to land.
Some boats, with men asleep, are swaying to and fro,
stirred only by the long and lazy swell of a Pacific
tide. Who cares to hoist a flag? Who cares to
move ? Senoras twist their cigarettes ; tall, thin,
serpentine brunettes, with eyes as dark as night,
and cheeks as brown as walnut juice, their rich red
colour blushing through the skin. Lolling on deck,
these giddy and coquettish damsels fan their cheeks,
and puff their curls of smoke, and let their eyelids
droop in languor.

Ah di me Albania !

Light of heart and glib of tongue, the dons and
caballeros match their female folk.

' Let me propose to you a task,' lisps Juan, ad
dressing two picturesque coquettes : ' Pepita, you
shall twist me a cigarette, and you, Josepha, smoke
it fpr me ! '

Leaning on the vessel's side, we watch a shoal of
smelts at play. A pelican settles on our mast. The
air is still ; the silence broken only by the snapping
of an unseen dog. A line of surf breaks white and

30 WHITE CONQUEST.

fresh along the rocks of Santa Cruz, but on this
stretch of amber sands the waters lap and lie,
gently as the fancies float about the eyelids of a
sleeping child. Like waiting in a Syrian road, is
waiting at a Mexican port. Who cares for time ?
Beyond the rickety old Mexican pier, a tiny creek
winds in between two grassy banks, with uplands
clothed in oak and cypress. In the hollow you
can see a wooden cross :

1

JUNE 3, 1770.

That cross is Fray Junipero's cross ; that ancient
oak beside it, is the tree under which Don Jose
Eivera massed his troops. Eight of the gully,
on a bare hill-top, stand the ruins of Eivera's
castle ; left of it, under a fringe of pines, and in
the midst of fig-trees and peach gardens, rise the
sheds and water-wheels of Monterey.

A LOST CAPITAL. 31

We land — the town is won. Eeceived by Don
Mariano de Vallejo, one of the great men in the Lost
Capital, we are guests in every house. Priests
salute us in their walks ; barbers and bakers doff
their caps ; and billiard-players offer us their cues.
Senoras beg for visiting cards. The dogs which
doze in every gutter seem to know that we are
persons not to be annoyed by snap and snarl.

Monterey, a town all gables, walls, and balus
trades in which everyone owns a corner lot-
is peopled by folk as quaint and singular as the
streets and sheds. A native builds his house to
please himself. Why not? Is he not don and
caballero? Who shall thwart his whim? No mayor
insults a Montereyano with rules and plans. No
level lines of road offend your eyes. Main street,
if such a passage can be called a street, winds in
and out among a group of villas, dancing-booths,
barbers' shops and billiard rooms. No side walk
interferes with man and horse. An open sewer runs
through the town, a cesspool poisons every yard.
Two nieces of Don Mariano live in a villa with an
open drain in front. Nobody dreams of covering up
that drain. The plaza is as shapeless as the street ;

32 WHITE CONQUEST.

a scatter of white houses, built of earth and plank,
mostly one story high ; these people living in a con
stant fear of earthquakes happening in the night.
Here juts a gable-end, there turns a water-fan. Be
yond them runs a length of front, all wash and
paint, the residence of a don ; then come a forge,
a whisky shop, a Chinese laundry, and an open pit.
A pretty house stands here and there among the
cypresses and limes, with balconies, giving on an
inner court, and jalousies from which a dame, her
self unseen, may note who passes in the street
below. This lady's game of hide and peep, which
in Monterey takes the place of work and thought, is
highly popular. One public pile adorns the plaza ;
that Calaboose (prison, court, and whipping post)
in which the caide used to sit, and sentence mixed
blood rascals to a tale of stripes. New times bring
in new men. M. Simoneau, a merry French cook,
now keeps his chickens in the prisoners' yard, and
serves up soup and fish in the justice-room. A
group of bearded fellows smoke within the shadow
of a wall. A priest creeps timidly across the square.
Girls in black veils and scarlet skirts are hurrying
home from noontide mass. A child is playing with

A LOST CAPITAL. 33

a goat. Some geese are wabbling in the drain, some
curs sleeping in the sun. Are we not idling through
an unknown city in the south of Spain ?

In Monterey, folks affect high pedigrees, and give
themselves Castilian airs. Here birth and blood are
choicer things than house and land. Is not the
country overrun by Hybrids, sons of savages,
daughters of nobody, yet holding up their heads
and putting in their claims ?

The lower ranks of people admit some taint of
blood; but in the church, the plaza, and the
barber's shop, no man is less than don and cabal-
lero, with a pedigree long enough to amaze a Gael
and satisfy a Basque.

No house in Monterey is fifty years old. Fifty-
six years ago, the city built by Don Jose Eivera
and the Spanish friars, was levelled to the earth..
Captain Buchard, a French pirate or privateer, ran
into the port with two small frigates, flying the flag
of Spain. Governor Sola, acting for his royal
roaster, masked a battery near the water's edge, and
having placed this battery in charge of Don Jesus
de Yallejo, waited the piratical attack. Next day,,
on Buchard laying one of his ships athwart the

VOL. I. D

34 WHITE CONQUEST.

castle, Don Jesus opened fire and forced him to
withdraw. Enraged by this repulse, Buchard
lowered his boats, and sent his men ashore. Don
Jesus left his guns, and bolted for the woods, firing
a powder train, which blew the castle into dust.
Buchard gave the town to pillage, and his crews, a
riff-raff of all nations, Spanish, French, and Algeririe,
spared neither age nor sex. Fire swept the lanes
and alleys, so that nothing but the church, an
edifice of stone, remained to mark the site of royal
Monterey.

Five years elapsed before a soul returned. A
Scot, named David Spence, a man dealing in skins
and hides, came first. Then don and caballero
ventured back, and raised their shanties from the
dust. Poorer than ever, they built of sand and
logs, but gave their sheds poetic names. A hut was
called a house, a shed a hall. No house in Mon
terey is bigger than an English cottage, and the
public rooms are often low and mean. Entering
one of the pretentious villas, you find the gate un
hinged, the balcony rotten, the garden heaped and
messed. Nature does something to redeem the
waste. What laurels glitter in the sun! This

A LOST CAPITAL. 35

cypress sets you thinking of Seraglio Point, this
cactus of the upper Nile, this prickly pear of
Eamleh in the Sands. What artist would not like
to sketch this mouldering wall and overhanging
fruit ? But while you make your sketch, the owner
smokes and smirks, convinced that you admire his
wall and fruit trees, not because they make a picture,
but because they are his wall and fruit trees.

c A saintly and a regal city,' says Don Mariano
with a flush of pride ; ' San Carlos is our patron
saint, Don Carlos is our founder king. A regal
name is Monterey ; rey de los montes — king of
the mountains.'

Dons and caballeros sneer at San Francisco as an
upstart city, built by nobody, not even by a viceroy,
•and peopled by the scum of New York, Sydney, and
Hong-Kong. At Monterey they have a line of
governors, and a second line of bishops, with the
ruins of a castle and a gaudy Mexican church, as
visible evidence of their temporal and spiritual sway.
At Monterey, too, a gentleman has rights ; not only
those of a Spanish knight, but those of an Indian
chief. He may be sharp of tongue and light of
love. Nobody thinks of counting the number of his

D 2

36 WHITE CONQUEST.

squaws, or asking him whether those dames are red
or white. Living near savages, he has caught, as
stronger men might catch, no little of their savage
morals.

Yet the Mexican don is no longer safe in his
retreat at Monterey. Strangers poke their noses
through his gates, enquire about his harem, and
insist on showing him how to develop his estate.
How he dislikes their chatter about making roads
and opening schools ! His fathers neither paved a
road, nor built a school. They kept a priest, who-
ruled their squaws and took their girls to mass.
That good old system suits him. What has he to
do with roads and schools ? A rider, he prefers a
grassy trail ; a gentleman, what need has he for the
accomplishments of a clerk ? Will science help him
to throw sixes, and will letters kindle fire for him in
female eyes ?

CHAPTEK V.

DON MARIANO.

No one can say whether the Vallejo family — of
which Don Mariano is the head — derive their line
from Hercules or only from Caesar. Nothing in the
way of long descent would be surprising in Don
Mariano ; even though his race ran up to Adam,
like the pedigree made out by heralds for his
countryman Charles the Fifth. ; You ask about the
history of California,' he remarks ; ' my biography is
the history of California.'

In one sense he is right. Don Mariano's story is
that of nearly every Mexican of rank. In olden
times (now thirty years ago!) he was the largest
holder of land in California. Besides his place
at Monterey, the family-seat, he owned a sheep-run
on San Benito Kiver, an estate sixty miles long in
San Joaquin Valley, a whole county on San Pablo
Bay, and many smaller tracts in other parts. High

38 WHITE CONQUEST.

mountain ranges stood within the boundaries of his
estate. With an exception here and there, these
tracts have passed into the stranger's hands.

Springing from an ancient root, claiming an
ancestry all knights and nobles, Mariano took to
arms as soon as he could ride a horse and wield a
sword. Joining a troop of rangers, he was soon a
man of note. Like all his neighbours who have
lived near Indian wigwams, he was light of love,
and hardly cared whether his divinity was dark or
fair ; but he was made for better things than
dawdling after squaws and senoritas. Fond of
work, he spent the time in study which his brethren
spent in gaming-booths and tavern dens. He grew
to be a famous rider and a still more famous shot.
At twenty he has won his captain's grade, from
which time he has his part in every row, and got
a grade by every change. One year he helped the
radicals to harass Spain ; next year he helped the
Jesuits to upset those radicals. When the bishop of
Monterey denounced the new republic, Mariano,
Catholic first, Mexican afterwards, followed his
pastor into civil war. Captured by the enemy, who
put him into handcuffs, he was so indignant that he

DON MARIANO. 39

shaved his "beard, renounced his title of a Spanish
don, and swore that in future he would shave his
face like an English marquis.

Acting with Alvaredo in founding a new govern
ment, he found the hour of his success the most
critical of his life. What should he do with Cali
fornia ? She could not stand alone. Four countries
had some claim to her — Spain, England, Eussia, the
United States. Spain had been her nominal owner
for a hundred years. England had the right of
Drake's discovery, when the coast was called New
Albion, and annexed to the domain of Queen Eliza
beth. Eussia had long possessed some points on the
coast, notably the hills commanding the Golden
Gate. America had the claims of neighbourhood,
and a cession from the government of Mexico.
What part was he to play ? His bishops were in
favour of submitting to the Spanish crown, Spain
being their country and the bulwark of their Church.
The other powers are all heretical. A Catholic
seemed to have no choice; but Don Mariano,
though a Catholic before he is a Mexican, is a
Vallejo even before he is a Catholic. An active
man, he kept his eyes open while his pastors were

40 WHITE CONQUEST.

asleep. Learning a little English, he read the
journals of London and New York with a forecast
ing eye. Spain had no ships at sea. An English
fleet was off the coast, an American army on the
land. To one or other of these powers he saw that
his young republic must incline. To which ? Don
Mariano, shaving like an English marquis, turned
his friendly face towards London, though he took
good care not to offend his neighbours of New
York. A secret memoir, laid before President
Polk, describes him as ' a man of high family, of
good education (for a Mexican), who seems to be
retiring from his military charge, though keeping a
squad of soldiers at his country-house. In old days
proud and stiff, he is now smooth and sweet, yet
with the lordly air of a man stooping from a height.
His gates are always open to the stranger, but he
keeps an eye on every guest, and only yields his
heart to men of character and rank. His power is
felt in every part of California, and Solano county,
where he chiefly lives, is safer both for property and
life than any other part of the Pacific slope. He
asks for nothing. Money will not tempt him. No
one knows his mind ; perhaps he would like a title

DON MARIANO. 41

or an office.' Such, in substance, is the picture
of Don Mariano, presented thirty years ago, to
President Polk.

Unable to make him a marquis, Polk made him a
general ; then, in spite of his priests and bishops,
Don Mariano staked his fortunes on the Stars and
Stripes.

In punishment for his sin, he has been badly
used by the United States. Wishing to see the
capital of California built on his estate, he founded a
new city on San Pablo Bay, which he called Vallejo,
and offered not only to give the State his finest
sites, but to defray the cost of building a court-house
and laying out a public square. These offers were
accepted by the State ; yet after he had spent three
hundred thousand dollars on public works in Vallejo,
the capital was removed to Sacramento, and Don
Mariano was left a ruined man.

Since then he has been swimming up a stream,
in which the floods are high and swift. ' No
Mexican of note,' he says to me in one of our drives,
' has been able to keep his lands. My case is hard,
but not so hard as that of others; twenty years hence
no Spanish don will be a citizen of the United States.'

42 WHITE CONQUEST.

' You mean the Spaniards will retire ? '

4 They will remove to Mexico, where they may
hope to keep their own.'

Don Mariano's lands have slipped from him by
many avenues of escape. His daughter chose an
English mate ; his sister chose an English mate.
Much of his land is fenced and planted for the
benefit of children with such English names as
Frisby and Leese, who in the coming years will smile
in their solid prosperity at the empty show and pre
tentious poverty of their Mexican ancestors.

' You will attend our ball to-night ? ' asks Don
Mariano.

'Ball! What ball?'

6 Our cascarone ball.'

/

' What is a cascarone ball ? '

' Ah, yes ; you are non-Catholic, and have
another legend in your Church. A cascarone ball
is an eggshell ball — cascaron, eggshell, you see.
It is a festival of our people, kept by all good
Catholics and Mexicans.'

Don Mariano shows me a printed notice of this
festival ; a grand affair, to be given in a noble hall,
with a fine orchestra, and a splendid supper. We
accept his invitation to the egg-shell dance.

DON MARIANO. 43

On going to our rooms, we hear the carpenters
at work, and see the florists bringing in their wares.
The dancing-room being next to my apartment, I can
see the finery from my door. A wooden shed, about
the length of a country barn, with bare benches
set against white-washed walls, is brightened here
and there by a bunch of ribbon, a wreath of paper
flowers, and something like a score of lights. One
fiddle and one concertina make the orchestra. On
the other side, there are girls in brilliant colours, in
the ripple of whose laughter you catch the music
which a young man prefers to any sight or sound
below the spheres.

As I am passing down the room, conducting two
senoras to their seats, a young girl, slipping behind
me, smashes an eggshell on my pate ; an eggshell
from which the meat has been drawn, and the inside
filled with tinsel and coloured paper, cut so fine as
to fall like snow. A peal of laughter greets the
girl's success. It is a challenge. When a shell is
broken on your head, you have the right to claim
a dance, during which you may crush your cascaron
among the damsel's curls. A romp ensues. If
senorita slips away, senor follows in pursuit. A

44 WHITE CONQUEST.

game of hide and seek is played, and shells get
broken on balconies. As night comes on, the ladies
press the fun, not only for the laughter, but because
the tinsel adds a beauty to their dull black curls
and lustrous eyes. By supper-time the riot runs so
high that dons and caballeros can hardly keep their
pride of port.

The supper is a thing to match the ball. We
march in grandly, to a feast of thin soup, stale
cakes, pork sandwiches, and cold tea. Yet caballeros
and senoras drink and smile, and try to make believe
that all this shabby finery is a grand affair. Tor is
it not their cascarone ball ?

Let no man jest at these bare walls, these paper
flowers, these guttering candles, and this banquet of
cakes and nuts, washed down with tea ; for after
supper, the dons and caballeros steal away to whisky
bars, where three or four doses of their fire-water
serve to wake the demons that sleep in every
Mexican eye. Each don and caballero wears a
poignard in his vest.

1 Good Catholics, true caballeros,' whispers Don
Mariano, as he bows adieu ; ' you see we keep
the festivals of our faith ! '

DON MARIANO. 45

' Good Catholic first, true caballero second, cli
Don Mariano ? '

' Yes, Senor ; a mixed blood may be Mexican
first, Catholic afterwards ; a Spanish gentleman will
always put his religion first. You know our say
ing : ' la religion es la creencia, la creencia pertenece
al espiritu, y al espiritu nadie lo manda.'

Living like a big chief, in the fashion of his
country, Don Mariano has squandered not a little of
his vast estate on what are called his pleasures. He
has a lust for building towns. Besides his city of
Yallejo, he has built the port and city of Benecia,
named in honour of a lovely and neglected wife.
His ranches sink in piles, his sheep-runs melt into
public squares ; but more than all, his property
slips away from him in courts of law. A stranger
challenges his title, and a judge reviews his grant.
All Mexicans are fond of law, and Don Mariano
never goes into some court except to lose some
part of his estate. Don Mariano is a type, not only
of the Lost Capital, but the Eetiring Eace.

46 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER VI.

WHITE CONQUERORS.

' GUESS you'll say here's a place,' whispers Colonel
Brown, a settler in these parts. ' If this valley had
a little more rain, a little more soil, and a little less
sun and wind, it would be a place ! You bet ? '

Leaving the open sewers and pretty balconies of
Monterey behind, we cross the amber dunes, and
twenty miles from the sea we strike the Eio Salinas,
near the base of Monte Toro, and a few>teps farther,
on a creek called Sanjon del Alisal, we find a new
city, called Salinas, rising from the earth.

Nine years ago the Eio Salinas flowed through
a desert, over which wild deer and yet wilder
herdsmen roved in search of grass and pools. The
soil was dry, the herbage scant. Bears, foxes, and
coyotes disputed every ravine with the hunters.
Ducks and widgeons covered the lagunes and creeks.
A trapper's gun was rarely heard among these hills,

WHITE CONQUERORS. 47

and save the ruins of an old Mission-house at
Soledad, no trace of civil life was found between
the heights of Monte Toro and the summits of
Gavilano range.

To-day, a pretty English town, with banks,
hotels, and churches, greets you on the bridge of
Sanjon del Alisal. A main street, broad, well-paved
and neatly built, runs out for nearly half a mile.
Unlike the timber-sheds of Monterey, the stores and
banks of this new town are built of brick, striking,
as one may say, their roots into the earth. A fine
hotel adorns the principal street, every shop in which
is stocked with new and useful things, just like a
shop in Broadway or the Strand. You buy the latest
patterns in hats and coats, in steam-ploughs and
grass- rollers, in pump-handles and waterwheels.
Salinas has her journals, her lending-libraries, her
public schools. A jail has just been opened, for the
herdsmen of the district are unruly, and the prison
of San Jose is a long way off. Pigeons flutter in the
roadways, lending to the town an air of poetry and
peace. Some offshoots flow from Main Street into
open fields, in which Swiss-like chalets nestle in the
midst of peaches, grapes, and figs. One church

48 WHITE CONQUEST.

stands on the left, a second on the right of Main
Street, and folks step in and out of these churches as
neatly dressed as visitors at Shanklin and Torquay.

4 Now here's a place to open your eyes like a
cocktail, eh, Colonel ? ' cries the settler.

' I am not a colonel. So far as I have anything
to do with arms, I serve Queen Victoria as a private
in the Inns of Court Volunteers/

' Then you are equal to a colonel ! Sir, a man
must have a title if he wishes to escape notice, as a
gentleman in this country would like to do. Once
I was crossing Firebaugh ferry, on San Joaquin
Eiver over here, beyond the range, when the old
boatman stopped in the middle of his passage, and
enquired my name. "Mister Brown," said I.
"Mister Brown?" said he, resting on his oars,
evidently puzzled in his head. " What name,
stranger?" he inquired once more. "Mister
Brown." He looked distressed, but said no more
until I stepped on shore and offered him his fare.
"Excuse me, sir," he cut in quickly, "I cannot
take your money. Keep it in memory of this re
markable day. Boy and man, I have kept this
ferry on the San Joaquin Eiver for twenty-two

WHITE CONQUERORS. 49

years, and you are positively the first person named
Mister, whom I have had the pleasure to put
across." On that date I commissioned myself as
Colonel Brown. Come, Colonel, bet you don't beat
this place in the old country, nohow ? '

Yet Salinas is an English town.

Captain Sherwood, an officer in the English
army, who had served in the Crimea, came to Cali
fornia with a sum of money to be spent in buying
real estate. He bought a cattle-run in Salinas
Valley, getting the title from one of the unthrifty
natives for a song. Major Buckriall, tempted by a
chance of shooting bear and snaring snipe and duck,
came down to see his comrade. Sport being good,
the Major stayed. One day, while musing at the
water-side, a notion flashed into the sportsman's
brain. Wanting a hut, in which to keep his gun
and cook his bird, the Major said to himself: ' Why
not myself build a house ? A few logs, a hammer,
a bag of nails, and the thing is done. Nothing
easier. But let me see. A house — why not a town ? '
At night he spoke to Sherwood — ' Let us build a city
on the lake.' Thinking of his cattle-run, the Captain
smiled. A city for whom? What wretch would

VOL. I. E

So WHITE CONQUEST.

live in such a desert as Salinas Valley, except a
wretch who wanted to herd cattle and shoot
widgeon ?

All the drovers and herdsmen who then strayed
into Salinas Valley were of Bedouin type, half-naked
savages, tawny of skin and black of eye, with curly
beards and golden earrings ; nomads as wild and
reckless as the bulls they chased and slew. Pitching
their cabins in the hills, or dropping to the river
beds, according to the time of year, these herdsmen
lead a lonely and nomadic life ; faring from day to
day, feeding from hand to mouth, much as their
cattle fared and fed. The country being unfenced,
they were free to wander at their will. Untouched
by human arts, these herdsmen had no pleasures, save
in dancing the fandango, gambling for their last
dollar, drinking away their senses, and ripping at
each other's sides. If they had any other passion, it
was the love of roaming as they pleased, driving their
herds afield, unchecked by any fence, unscared by
any gun. Such fellows seemed to Sherwood far
from pleasant neighbours, and by no means likely
settlers in a town.

Yet Major Bucknall meant to try his luck —

WHITE CONQUERORS. 51

' Come, let us build a city.' He believed White men
would come in, and occupy the Salinas pastures.
Sherwood gave him a scrap of ground, on which he
reared a log shanty. Six weeks after he began to
build his hut, a fellow with an eye for coming cus
tomers, opened a grog shop. Then the drovers and
herdsmen came this way for drams. A third man,
seeing these drovers hang about, threw up a booth
for dancing. Only six months after Bucknall had
first thought of building a shanty in which he might
keep his gun and cook his game, twenty-five houses
were clustered round his hearth. Twenty-five houses
means a hundred persons, more or less ; a force of
forty or fifty guns in case of need. All fear of a
surprise by savages was laid aside.

English settlers came into the valley, looking out
for sheep-runs, followed by Americans with a scent
for corner lots. In less than seven years, the
Major's cabin on the lake has grown into a city of
three thousand souls ! Already Salinas is a more
important place than Monterey.

A White colonist has three main ways of taking
possession of Californian soil.

The first plan is to marry an estate, like David

E 2

52 WHITE CONQUEST.

Spence. Dark women like fair men, and if a half-
breed girl is taken from her people young, she may
be trained in English ways, until she learns to be a
decent wife. If there are brothers in the house,
the fields and runs must be divided ; but the lads
will go to the dogs in time ; the faster for a little
help ; and then the lots may all come back. An
English hunter after an estate is seldom foiled by
an inferior race.

The second plan is for a thrifty stranger, having
ready money in his purse, to lend small sums to any
reckless native, known to have good sheep-runs
and extensive water-rights. Your mixed breed,
whether brown or sallow, has an empty pocket and
a dozen wants. He wants to buy a horse, to give a
dance, to bribe a sheriff, or to play seven-up.
Tempted by the sight of gold, he borrows where he
has no hope of paying back. Loan follows loan,
each spent as fast as got, until the lender closes the
account, and presses for his debt. The hybrid has
no coin. What will the lender take instead of gold ?
A league or so of pasture land — a ranch with mill
and water-wheel — a bit of hill-side like an English
park? His debt being paid, the stranger has a

WHITE CONQUERORS. 53

footing on the soil, which in a few years more will
be his own.

The third plan is for three or four squatters,
strong in thews and sinews, handy with bowie knives
and rifles, to form a league or club (a White league,
an Anglo-Saxon club), of which the members swear
to stand by each other, shoulder to shoulder, rifle to
rifle, in their march to fortune. Having sworn their
oaths, they drive their herds afield, not caring on
whose land they stray, if grass and water suit them.
Throwing up a fence and cabin, they challenge any
one who chooses to dispute their claim. The owner
has a choice of evils. He may try to drive them oft
by either force or law. If force is used, blood will
be shed ; his blood or that of others ; and the native,
though alert and reckless, has a wholesome dread of
English guns. If he appeals to law, his title must
be proved, and hardly any Mexican deed will bear
the scrutiny of an American judge. The owner
yields, and his submission to one act of violence
brings a swarrn of squatters on his land.

In one of the big ranches lives a young Scotch
settler, the story of whose life, as told me by him
self, might stand for that of many a neighbour.

54 WHITE CONQUEST.

' I was rather wild,' lie says, ' in my young days,
and my father, a Scotch minister, with a large family
and a small stipend, wras bothered what to do with
me. I liked to tear about on ponies, and we had
no ponies at the grange. Ha ! ha ! the dear old
dad ! He put me on board a ship for Sydney,. paid
my passage in the steerage, and sent me with a six
pence out into the world. Landing in Australia
without a penny in my pouch, I had to take service,
anything that offered. A sheep farmer hired me,
and I went up country to the runs. A wild life
suited me, and after a spell at the diggings, I re
turned to the runs as partner with my late master,
and remained with him three or four years. A man
from California gave me the notion of settling here,
and I came over with some money and more ex
perience. I stayed in San Francisco five or six
weeks, looking round, and feeling for an opening,
but the sharpers of that city would have peeled and
picked me to the bone. I came down south, and
finding two or three ranches in this valley built by
English fellows, I thought the place would suit me,
and I stayed.'

' How long ago?'

WHITE CONQUERORS. 55

' Five or six years or so ; just when Salinas was
a sprinkle of log huts.'

' And you have now a good run ? '

cMy run extends from the Salinas Eiver right
across the Galivano range, to San Benito Eiver.'

' Why, that is an estate as big as a Scotch

county ? '

'Yes, the dear old dad will stare when I go
home some day, and tell him what his scapegrace
son has been doing for the last twelve years. Ha !
ha ! the dear old dad will stare when I tell him he
sent me out with sixpence, and I ask him to come
and see what I have bought with his sixpence— a
little place in California, about the size of County
Linlithgow ! '

The lands all round Salinas are in English and
American hands. Jackson, one of the first arrivals
in San Francisco; Hebbron, lately a detective,
practising his art in London ; Beasley, one of three
brothers living in the place; Spence, the first
English colonist in Monterey; Johnson, a sheep-
herder, who has given his name to a high peak ;
Leese. the gentleman who wedded Vallejo's sister ;
Beveridge, a young and thriving Scot ; these are the

56 WHITE CONQUEST.

chief owners of land around Salinas. They are
all of British birth.

On taking possession of the land, such strangers
fence the fields, and drive intruders from the cattle -
runs. Worse still, they go into the female market
and raise the price of squaws. By offering more
money than a Mestizo can afford to give, they have
their choice of ' helps,' and pay in honest money
where a native is disposed to steal. In every ranch
we see these Indian girls ; at every agency we hear
of loud complaints. Young men, not of full blood but
only mixed, assert that these English and American
strangers take their prettiest damsels, leaving them
only the old women and the cast-off squaws.

' You seem to like my girls,' laughs one of the
English settlers ; ' well, you look at them a good
deal. Ha, ha ! you think me a monstrous wicked
fellow : Lovelace, Lothario, Don Juan all in one !
Bless you, it's a fearful bore. Don't pray for a
country in which there are no White women, that's
my advice ! Do you suppose I prefer a dirty squaw
who only speaks ten words of English, to a rosy
lassie out of Kent? All fiddlesticks. Our proper
helps are parted from us by an ocean and a conti-

WHITE CONQUERORS. 57

nent. What can a fellow do ? This country yields
us squaws, just as it gives us fruit and herbs ; and
till you send me that rosy lassie out of Kent, I must
put up with squaws from San Pascual.'

Seeing his fields invaded, and his women carried
off, the herdsman's blood boils up. Are not these
woods and fields his feeding-ground? Are not
these girls his natural mates ? No one can deny
that these pastures were the properties of his
mother's tribe. Is he not the proper heir of
these hunting-grounds, the natural husband of
these Indian squaws?

58 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER VII.

HYBRIDS.

' WE cannot now undo what has been clone,' Don
Mariano sighs, when we are talking of the bad blood
in his province. ' The Franciscan fathers tried to
check this evil by keeping White men and Eed
women apart. They failed; the customs of the
country were too strong for them. No one has yet
succeeded in arresting an evil which baffled the
Franciscan fathers. Too well we know the mischief,
for this mixture of White with savage blood is giving
us a vicious and unstable race.'

White female faces are not often seen in
the southern parts of California ; thirty years since
they were never seen outside a military post. The
Spaniards are not planters of Free States. They
came to take possession of the country for their
king, the people for their Church. To find new

HYBRIDS. 59

homes for men desirous of a wider field and freer
atmosphere, was not an object of their voyage. Sail
ing in search of gold and spices, they left the coast
when they had found these articles and filled their
ships. A company of friars remained to teach the
natives, and a company of soldiers to secure the
soil. The rest returned to Spain. No women, as a
rule, came out. The men were either soldiers,
friars, or trappers, and in every case were single
men. The soldiers and the friars were not allowed
to marry. A trapper was of course at liberty to
woo and wed ; but in a land with no White women
he could only woo a squaw. If the stranger made
a home, he took such females as an Indian lodge
supplies.

A governor of Monterey might bring his family
from Mexico, but such a luxury as the companion
ship of wife and children was reserved for persons of
exalted family and official rank.

' When I first came into these parts,' says David
Spence, ' the only White people near Monterey were
the fathers at San Carlos, and the soldiers in the
citadel. No other White men had a right to dwell
in Monterey. We bought our licences to live and

60 WHITE CONQUEST.

trade, but after paying our money, we held these
licences at the governor's will. On any whimsey,
he could put us on board the fleet, or drive us into
the mountains. No civil rights were known. At
gunshot, soldiers drove us into camp, and when the
curfew tolled these soldiers compelled us to put
out light and fire. The life we led was not a thing
for women of our kin to share.'

; You were encamped, not settled in the
country ? '

' You are right. No man among us thought of
staying over nine or ten years ; just long enough
to make a pot of money out of hides and skins.
Nobody cared to get the land ; nobody thought of
Monterey as home. Home ! There was not one
English woman, and not a dozen Spanish women in
the province. Fair faces were as rare as gold ; and
never to be seen, except in some great officer's
ranch. Not one man in fifty, even among the
rich, could hope to get a European wife.'

' You were a lucky one ? '

' Ha, yes ! My wife, a dona and sefiora, was the
daughter of an officer. She fell in love with my
blue eye and yellow locks. Most of my rivals in that

HYBRIDS. 61

day took up with squaws, and left a progeny of half-
breeds in their homesteads.'

' Custom of the country P '

c Yes, an Indian custom ; but the Whites fell into
it very soon, and keep it up with an amazing spirit.'

' Still keep it up ? '

' Yes, keep it up. The practice of selling young
Indian girls to White men is still so common, that in
some adjoining counties a Eed man cannot get a
squaw.'

From Santa Barbara to San Juan, from Santa
Clara to San Francisco, things were much the same
as in the mountains ; like causes producing every
where like effects.

Living in a savage waste, surrounded by native
tribes, the Franciscan fathers were obliged to lodge
some soldiers at each Mission-house, as a protection
to their persons and properties. These men were
fair of face and strong of limb. The squaws looked
kindly on them ; and the lax moralities of an Indian
lodge, where wedlock is unknown, permitted free
doms and alliances which ended in a new race of
Hybrids being brought into the world. This cross

62 WHITE CONQUEST.

between White blood and Eed was called Mestizo,
and the females of this family, called Mestizas, are
often very handsome. The men are savage, the
women licentious ; inheriting the worst vices of their
parent stocks.

]STo power on earth could stop this intercourse,
or check this growth of Hybrid offspring. If a
native growled, the soldiers kicked him from their
post. If he presumed to strike, they broke his
bones and set his thatch on fire. What holy men
could do to stay such outrages was done, but the
Franciscans had to deal, not only with an Indian
custom, but with officers as lax in morals as their
men. No legal injury was done. A native never
urged that his daughter was disgraced by being
carried to a White man's hut. He only grumbled
that he was not paid her price. Generals and
captains all kept squaws. As chiefs, these officers
had rights which they were quick enough to seize,
laughing away reproof of their confessors with the
old campaigner's answer, ' Holy Father, soldiers are
not monks.' How could the Franciscan fathers get
such captains to restrain their men ?

By taking Indian mates, and rearing offspring

HYBRIDS. 63

round the camps, these Spanish soldiers struck their
roots into the soil ; so deep, that when their time of
service came to an end, they were unable to remove.
Their families could not be carried into Spain,
or even into Mexico. A viceroy had a puzzling
question to resolve. The policy of his Church had
been to exclude White settlers from the soil : a policy
of prudence if the natives were to be converted and
preserved. Except the friars, no man had a right to
hold land in California. Except the soldiers, sent to
guard these friars and execute their orders, no man
had a right of domicile in California. Civil laws
and civil magistrates were unknown. California was
treated as a Holy State, a paradise of monks, a
patrimony of the Church. This clerical policy had
always been supported by the king and council in
Madrid. A pope had given California to Spain, and
Spain was eager to restore it to the church. Yet how
were veterans, grown grey in service on a distant
shore, to leave their children, dear though dusky, to
the chances of a savage life ? Fear, as well as pity,
held the clerical policy in check. If left behind,
they must remain a progeny of shame, an evidence
of moral failure, in the neighbourhood of every

64 WHITE CONQUEST.

mission in the land. Holding no place in any
Indian tribe, these Hybrids would have to live as
outcasts. Every hand would be against them.
Rapine and murder might become their trade.

Taking a middle course, which seemed to him
the lesser of two evils, the viceroy formed three
camps of refuge, which he called Free Towns ; a
first camp at Los Angeles in the South, a second
camp near Santa Cruz in the Centre, and a third
camp at San Jose in the North. These camps were
ruled by martial law, and wholly separated from
the great Franciscan Commonwealth. About Los
Angeles he gathered in the refuse from San Diego
and Santa Barbara ; about Santa Cruz he gathered
in the refuse of San Carlos, San Juan, and Soledad ;
about San Jose he gathered in the refuse of Santa
Clara and San Francisco. Within these camps the
veterans and their savage progeny were to dwell,
but they were not to wander from their limits, under
penalty of stripes, imprisonment and death.

Some strangers joined the settlers in these Free
Town ; few, and of an evil sort ; quacks, gamblers,
girl-buyers, whiskey sellers; all the abominable

HYBRIDS. 65

riffraff of a Spanish camp. From these vile sources,
nearly all the present Hybrids of the country spring.

In time, these mixed breeds grew too strong for
either priest or captain to control. From Los
Angeles they have roamed into the plains of San
Fernando ; from Santa Cruz they have crept up the
Pajaro and Salinas ; from San Jose they have
spread along both shores of San Francisco Bay.
Not many of this mongrel crew can read and write.
Not one in ten is born in wedlock, for the custom
of their country fills the hut with squaws, whom
the sons of White men disdain to marry. Gross
and sickening superstitions cloud such brains as
they possess. Aware that they are neither red nor
white, and have no place among the Indian tribes,
they loath their mother's kith as fiercely as they
hate their father's kin. The vices of two hostile
breeds are mixed in them ; the pride and cruelty of
their Spanish sires, the laziness and licentiousness of
their Indian dams.

The land, they say, is theirs. They are not
strangers, like the foreign troops, nor savages, like
the native tribes. In Mexican days, they fought
the soldiers, robbed the friars, and helped them-

VOL. I. F

66 WHITE CONQUEST.

selves to squaws. In every riot they are first and
last ; the first in outrage, and the last to be subdued.
When Mexico threw off the yoke, they fought
against the crown of Spain, and when that fight was
done they turned against their comrades in the
camp. Unstable as water, they rallied to the
Single Star, and after causing the young republic
of California much annoyance, they rallied to the
Stars and Stripes.

This treachery brought men into these plains,
compared to whom the Mexicans are boys, the
Indians girls. Alert and strong, these strangers
push the native to the wall. While the 'Hybrid
stock-man is playing at cards or capering through a
dance, his fields are fenced, his cattle driven away,
his streamlets dammed, by these intruding and un
sleeping Whites. What can the Hybrid do?
American courts are in these strangers' hands.
He cannot meet them in the field. What then?
Must he lie down and sprawl at their feet ?

Jesu Maria — no ! He may take to the woods,
become a bandit, and avenge the wrongs he is too
feeble to resent in open strife.

CHAPTER VIII.

BRIGANDS.

Ix California, as in Greece and Italy, brigands
are the privateers of public wrongs, or what the
peasants call their public wrongs. A brigand is a
malcontent, who waits his chance to rise in a more
threatening shape.

Los Angeles and San Jose, the Free Towns
peopled by disbanded soldiers, squaws, and camp
followers, are two great nests of rogues and thieves,
gamblers and cut- throats. From these Free Towns,
a line of brigand chiefs have drawn their scouts and
helps. A mixed blood hates the agents of all rule
and order. Years ago his teeth were clenched
against the Spanish friars ; at present his knife is
whetted against the American police. Much of his
passion is political, and the conflict in the jungle
and on the mountain side is one of race with race.

High reputations have been made by these

F 2

68 WHITE CONQUEST.

California!! brigands. What hybrid peasant has
not envied Capitan Soto, and his bold companion,
Capitan Procopio? What lonely ranch and noisy
drinking ken has not heard of Capitan Senati's deeds,
and Capitan Moreno's treachery ? What sefiorita
has not sighed over the romantic love and tragic fate
of Capitan Vasquez, the Mexican hero? Each of
these brigands has excited and disturbed the country,
roaming through the valleys, plundering the lonely
farms, stopping the public mails, and carrying girls
into the woods ; each hero, as the hybrids think,
combining the best qualities of Eobin Hood, Dick
Turpin, and Claude du Yal.

Soto was the captain of a band of horse-stealers.
Driving horses from the herd is ranked by Mexi
cans as the most lucrative and gallant branch of a
brigand's trade. To steal horses, a man must be
brave, cool, and hardy ; he must know the country
like a guide — each hidden jungle, nameless cave,
and rocky pass — and he must sit his saddle as he
sits a chair. All Mexicans ride well, but even for a
Mexican ranger, Capitan Soto was a dasher ; going
like a gale of wind ; yet able, in his rapid flight,
to twist himself round his horse's belly, and to

BRIGANDS. 69

cling unseen about his horse's neck. The charms
of an adventurous life drew many riders, not less
daring than himself, to Soto's camp. One. day they
were rioting with senoritas at Los Angeles ; another,
they were flying for their necks before such hunters
as Sheriff Eowland and Sheriff Morse. Los Angeles,
San Bernardino, and San Diego are the favourite
scenes of brigand warfare, as the frontier offers
them a ready market and a safe retreat. From
Soto to Vasquez, every brigand in California has
found his base of operations in Mexico.

Los Angeles county is a mountain region,
with a dozen trackless canons, opening into fertile
plains. The soil was owned by half-breeds, children
of the disbanded soldiers and their stolen squaws;
but from the moment when the first British settlers
fastened on the land, a fight for the estate began.
The first Britons who came to Los Angeles were
the Mormon soldiers serving under Colonel Cooke.
These troops remained at Los Angeles a year, and
were disbanded in the town. Some of these
Mormons settled in the place ; others rode up into
the hills ; and many more squatted on the plains.
A reign of order and prosperity set in. The Eed

70 WHITE CONQUEST.

skins liked these Mormons, regarding them as honest
men, who wanted squaws and paid for them in skins
and cows. A lovely climate, a prolific soil, drew
other settlers from the North.

If California is the garden of America, Los
Angeles county is the paradise of California. Woods-
and pastures have been sold by the unthrifty natives ;
woods uncut, pastures ungrazed ; and the purchase
money of these woods and pastures has been spent
on cards and drink. The district is becoming white.
Banks, stores, hotels are being opened in the town,,
while round the suburbs, in and out of glen and
water-way, white farms and villas are beginning to
dot the country side. All sorts of wealth abounds, so
that the robber's greed is tempted by variety of
spoil. All hands are ready to help him in carrying
on his trade. A brigand is always welcome to the
people in an old Free Town.

Capitan Soto led a rattling life. One day he
fled to Mexico, where the customers for his stolen
horses lived ; another day he smoked his cigarette
in San Quentin, the Newgate of California, Once he
broke that prison ; a daring and successful feat, one
of the many legends of that place of demons. But

BRIGANJ1S. 71

the White man's justice followed him to his lair.
Morse rode him down and shot him in the road.

After killing the chief brigand, Sheriff Morse
made tracks for San Francisco, where he hoped to
seize the minor criminal, Capitan Procopio. When
Soto's band was scattered by the rangers, Procopio,
with a younger member of the company, named
Yasquez, sought an asylum in Mexico, but after
staying in that republic some days the two brigands
ventured to take ship for San Francisco, where
they meant to hide in the Mexican quarter. Morse
got news of them, and made his dash. Young
Yasquez slipped the lasso, but Procopio was taken
in a den and sentenced to imprisonment for life.

Capitan Senati was the leader of a company
carrying on the trade of robbing shanties and
stealing girls. Moreno was his first lieutenant ; Los
Angeles the scene of his exploits.

One day, hearing that a ball was to be given
in Los Angeles by some ladies from San Francisco,
Capitan Senati's company swooped into the streets,
surrounded the house, and pillaged every one in
the dancing rooms. After eating the supper, and
drinking the wine, each brigand took a partner by

72 WHITE CONQUEST.

the waist, and whirled her round and round till he
was tired. Then, at a signal from their chief, they
filed out of the saloon, pointing their poignards at
the men, and kissing their fingers to the women,
as they bowed adieu.

Later in the night they broke into a ranch
outside the town, where Capitan Senati outraged a
female, and his lieutenant, Moreno, stole a gentle
man's watch. A cry was raised in the streets, some
rangers of the city mounted their horses, and a city
marshal, riding in front of these rangers, followed
the retreating brigands to their haunts. Senati shot
the marshal dead ; and as a challenge to the town,
rode back with his company into Los Angeles, where
he plundered several houses, and carried off a bevy
of Mexican girls.

Fifteen hundred dollars were offered for the
person of Capitan Senati, to be paid by the jailer of
Los Angeles for his body, whether alive or dead.
This money tempted Moreno, a man who had been
in trade, and learnt to set more store on gold than
others of his gang. With fifteen hundred dollars
he might buy the finest horse and give the biggest
dance in Los Angeles. That money should be his !

BRIGANDS. 73

The camp was fixed near Greek George's ranch, ten
miles only from the city ; and one night, when the
scouts were at their posts, and no one but Senati
and himself were in the tent, Moreno crept behind
his chief and shot him through the head. But they
were not so far from listeners as he thought. Before
the snap of his pistol died out, he heard a footstep
near the tent, on which he hid his weapon and
threw a blanket over Senati's face.

' Who fired that shot ? ' asked Bui via, one of the
brigands, striding in.

' Senati's pistol ; gone off by accident/ grumbled
Moreno. His companion showed distrust.

' Where is Senati ? '

The enquiry could not be evaded, nor the deed
concealed. It was a fight for life, and one of them
must fall. Moreno was prepared for blood.

' Asleep — there, in the corner ! '

Bulvia stooped to lift the rug, and as he bent
forward, Moreno plunged a knife into his heart.

Lifting the two bodies into a cart, Moreno drove
into Los Angeles, and going straight to the jail,
woke up the warder, told his story, showed the two
dead bodies, and claimed his price. How had he

74 WHITE CONQUEST.

captured them ? It was a short and brilliant tale
he had to tell. Taken by Senati's band, he had
been kept a prisoner in their camp, but he had
waited for his chance, and last night when all the
gang were out, except the Capitan and one of his
fellows, he had fought and killed the thieves. No
doubt arose ; a hundred persons in the city knew
Senati's face. For several days Moreno was a hero,
living on the spoil of war ; till he was fool enough
to walk into a shop, and offer the stolen watch for
sale.

The jeweller, who knew that watch, sent secretly
for the rangers, a dozen of whom were quickly on
the spot. Moreno had no chance of an escape. On
being convicted of the burglary, he told the truth
about his murder of the two brigands near Greek
George's ranch. He got fourteen years in San
Quentin for stealing the watch, but no notice has
yet been taken of his more atrocious crimes.

Yet none of these brigands have acquired the
fame of Capitan Vasquez, the young companion of
Procopio in his flight to Mexico.

Vasquez is a greater idol in his country than
Yallejo. Poets write sonnets to Vasquez, women

BRIGANDS. 75

swear by Vasquez, lads aspire to rival Vasquez.
Every hybrid in California would be Vasquez if he
had the talent and the mettle. Lives of Vasquez,
Adventures of Vasquez, Captures of Vasquez, are
written for the lowest grade of Mexican and Cali-
fornian readers. Vallejo is but half a hero in the
eyes of his countrymen. No one is sure of Vallejo ;
every one is sure of Vasquez. The general may
live to make more treaties, and acquire fresh honours
from the stranger ; but the brigand's work on earth
is done, and he is lying at San Jose in a patriot's
cell, waiting for the sentence that will lay him in a
patriot's grave.

In Mexican eyes, a brigand is a finer figure than
a soldier. Vasquez, moreover, is no common bandit.
He began his acts of violence in the name of an in
vaded country, and committed theft and murder in
the cause of an outraged race. He robbed White
men, and stripped the government mails. Some
people think his schemes as vast in scope as they
were bold in plan. By daring much, he sought to
win the confidence of all the half-breed drovers,
miners, and stockmen. It is said, his bands were
companies which might have swollen to regiments.

76 WHITE CONQUEST.

Some persons think he might have raised an army,
and become the Alvaredo of. his epoch, had he not
been ruined, like so many heroes, by the beauty of
a woman and the jealousy of a friend.

77

CHAPTER IS.

CAPITAX VASQUEZ.

THE story of Tiburcio Vasquez is the legend of hi&
race in light and shade.

Born in Monterey county, thirty-nine years ago,.
Vasquez is by birth a Mexican, and owes no fealty
to the United States. His father, a mixed blood,
like his neighbours, lived on a small farm called
Los Felix, not far from Monterey. A poor school,
kept by a drowsy priest, in Sleepy Hollow, offered
him the only teaching he ever got. He learned to
read a little, to recite his creed, and curse the here
tics who came into his port for trade. Though
ignorant of arts and men, he grew apace in animal
strength and animal appetite. Like his Indian
mothers, he was fleet of foot ; like his Mexican
fathers, he could catch a wild horse. Early in life,
he learned to use the knife, and not one damsel in

78 WHITE CONQUEST.

a score could tire him in bolero and fandango. The
fandango was his favourite dance.

The produce of Los Felix satisfied his father's
wants ; but the unhappy boy was fretting from a
fever in his blood. White men came into Monterey,
who took to building jetties, making roads, and
opening schools. Such men were devils in his sight ;
intruders on his soil, and enemies of his Church. A
rough and ready lot, with brawny arms and saucy
tongues, these strangers pushed and shoved, and put
on airs which drove the young hybrid mad with rage
and' hate. What right had they to come into his
town, and edge their way into his drinking bars ?
A fretful spirit led him into strife ; and when he
flew at the ' white devils ' these white devils cuffed
and kicked and hustled him to the wall.

' As I grew up,' he says of himself, ' I went to
balls and parties, given by natives, to which Ameri
cans came, shoving our men about, and trying to
get our women from us. A desire for vengeance
seized me like a demon.' The patriot, so jealous
of his women, was fifteen years of age !

Next year, being now sixteen, he opened a
saloon and killed his first White man. White men

CAPITAN VASQUEZ. 79

came into . his den, who quaffed his liquor, won his
coin, and pattered with his girls. Speaking of these
days, he says, ' The white men cuffed and kicked
me. They took my sweethearts by the waist and
kissed them to my face. I fought them in defence
of what I felt to be my rights, and those of my
companions, natives of the soil. I fled and hid my
self. The officers of justice followed me. For
what? For wanting to enjoy my own.'

His passion grew with age ; a dark and sullen
jealousy taking full possession of his soul. 'For
some time I went on doggedly, shoving those who
shoved me, keeping my sweethearts at my side, and
drinking where I liked and as I liked. One night
there was a row, and then I left the town.'

A man was killed. Seeing a fight going on, an
officer interfered, when Yasquez plunged a knife
into his heart. The murderer fled from Monterey.

' Getting a herd of kine,' he says, ' I went to
Mendocino county, in the north, three hundred miles
from Monterey ; but even in the north I was not
left alone in peace. White men pursued me to my
ranch ; but I escaped unhurt and fled into the
woods. Then I resolved to change my course. It

So WHITE CONQUEST.

was their fault, not mine. They would not let me
work — in future I would steal.'

A good Catholic, Vasquez set out for Los Felix,
where his mother lived, to tell her of his purpose
and invoke her blessing on his plan. fc My mother
loves me much, and will not fail me now,' he whis
pered as he pushed along. Arriving at the ranch,
he slipped into her room, and falling on his knees
told her his tale. ' I am about to go into the world,
and take my chance' — a Mexican way of saying
he was going on the roads to rob mails and shoot
passengers. His mother, Guadalupe Cantua, was a
half-breed woman from the San Benito hills, above
Los Angeles. She understood her son. He meant
to live on other people, taking what he wanted
from them, and she feared her boy might suffer at
their hands. Like a true Mexican she blessed him
to his task, and placed him under the protection of
her saints.

' I got my mother's blessing/ says the brigand „
c and from that day I began to rove and rob.'

Going into the hills of San Benito, where his1
kindred lived, he first fell in with Capitan Soto,
and engaged to serve him in stealing mustangs. He-

O D O O

CAPITAN VASQUEZ. 81

was soon a master of his craft, a favourite of his
chief. With Capitan Soto, he was taken prisoner,
and got five years in San Quentin. With Capitan
Soto, he broke prison, but in three weeks he was
again in jail. Six years of San Quentin failed to
cool his blood. When he came out of jail, his
cousin Leiva, and some other lads about Los Felix,
preferring theft to labour, gathered at his heels arid
made him captain of their gang. Hating the whites
as only the sons of white men and dark women do,
these youngsters called themselves patriots, and
talked of making California too hot for such ' pale
devils ' to endure. They stopped a mail and stripped
the passengers of watches, rings, and coin. A
something new to the settlers in the method of this
robbery made the name of Vasquez known in every
ranch and mine in California. Dashing at the stage,
he bade the passengers alight, sit down in a row
some feet apart, and cross their feet and wrists.
One fellow made a noise. ' I shot him in the leg/
says Vasquez, ; not to hurt him, but to keep up dis
cipline.' Taking from his belts some leather thongs,
Vasquez tied each pair of feet and wrists, and having
VOL. i. G

82 WHITE CONQUEST.

robbed his captives, rolled them on their backs and
put blankets on their faces while he rifled the
stage. He then galloped to the hills, leaving his
prisoners tied and writhing on the ground.

It was a new and daring act, more grateful to
the Half-breed natives, as they heard that the loss of
money was forgotten in the burning sense of shame.

' With seven inside the stage, and two outside,
the driver and the guard, how came you to sit down
in the mire and let three robbers tie you up ? ' I
ask a man who happened to have been riding with
the mail that day.

'The cause is simple,' he explains, 'so simple
that it never fails. You know, we English and
Americans are strangers in the land. No traveller
can trust his fellow. Each of the seven persons
inside the coach that day, believed the other six
passengers were members of the band. Before we
knew the truth, their thongs were on our wrists,
their rifles at our heads.'

At twenty-eight, Capitan Vasquez was already
the talk of every dancing-room from Santa Clara to
Los Angeles. ' I did it all myself, by my own valour ;
I, the bravest of the brave ! ' he says. Dark eyes

CAPITAN VASQUEZ. 83

looked up to him, and dusky arms were clasped
about his neck.

Leiva, Ms cousin, followed him like a dog.
Soto implored him to rejoin the band, horse-lifting
for the Mexican markets being a profitable trade.
By turns he played each game ; now stealing horses
from the herd, now robbing store and stage ; but
always squandering his ill-gotten gains on dice and
drink. No scruple as to shedding blood arrested
him. If any one stood out, he shot him through
the heart. Among his deeds of blood was the
murder of a poor Italian, whom he robbed and slew
at the Enriquita mines.

For four years this brigand kept his country in
alarm. As fleet of foot as other men are in the
saddle, and as much at home in the saddle as other
men are in easy chairs, he mocked at city rangers
and defied the hue and cry. At length he fell
into a snare ; the charge was stealing horses ;
a third time he was sentenced to four years' im
prisonment in San Quentin. At the end of three
years, a legislature, not too hard on robbers, passed
an act of clemency which set him free once more.
When he came out, more like a savage than ever,

G2

84 WHITE CONQUEST.

a band was gathered about him and reduced to
order. Vasquez took the chief command, with
Leiva as his first lieutenant. Chavez was his
second lieutenant, Castro and Morena were his
principal scouts. Leiva had a young and pretty
wife, Eosalia, who rode with them into the woods,
and shared the pleasures and privations of their
camp.

Sefiora Eosalia was a niece by marriage of Senora
Cantua, and a gossip of the whole Vasquez family at
Los Felix. Love led her into sin and crime.
Fidelity to wedded vows is not a virtue of her
race, and Yasquez was a hero in all female eyes.
A fearless rider, an untiring dancer, a deadly shot,
and a successful brigand, her cousin had nearly
all the qualities most admired by Mexicans, whether
male or female. Everybody talked of him, every
body feared him. Living by plunder, he had
always men, and nearly always money, at his
command. What Half-breed female could resist a
aian so gifted and so great ?

' Capitan Yasquez never sighed in vain,' he
says, ' to either senora or senorita.' A story,
current since his capture, implies that he was

CAPITAN VASQUEZ. 85

driven into his evil courses through the seduction of
his young wife by a White man. This story is
untrue. Though boasting of as long a list of
amours as Don Juan, the Capitan smiles with
scorn and pity when you ask him about his wife and
child.

' A child, but not a wife,' he says ; ' I love
my girls like a man ; but never could be tied to
any one female skirt.'

' Then it is false that your wife was taken from
you by an English settler ? '

' False ; yes, false. I never had a wife.'

His scorn of married love is said to be one great
element in his success with women.

Eosalia loved him as a brigand chief, and her
attachment helped to keep him in the field. He
wished to please her eye and gratify her pride. On
leaving San Quentin with a pardon, given to him
on a promise of good behaviour, his jailers believed
that he intended to redeem his pledge. By staying
at home, he might have put Los Felix into order ;
but the presence of his mistress in the neighbour
hood unstrung his mind. Eosalia loved him for
his daring deeds ; and how, whilst drudging on a

86 WHITE CONQUEST.

farm, could he approve himself a hero in Eosalia' s
sight ? To hold her, he must fly into the hills.

Choice led him to the heights . above Los
Angeles, in the vicinity of that San Benito peak
from which his mother sprang, among the ins and
outs of which Leiva and Eosalia were at home.

Some rival bands were in the district, led by
Capitan Soto. On hearing that the rangers of Los
Angeles were out, Vasquez joined his old leader,
when a brush took place,* in which the banditti
were severely mauled. Vasquez fled across the
frontier into Mexico, leaving Eosalia to her hus
band's care. On his return, after the death of Soto
and the capture ofProcopio, Vasquez rejoined Eosalia
at Eock Creek, the caves and woods of which
became his camp, proposing to avenge his
slaughtered chief and captured friend. His plan
was to announce his presence in the district by
a sudden blow ; a blow that should be echoed
through the land. He had to rouse his people,
and to show them they had still a leader in their
front. A great crime, swiftly planned and promptly
done, would tell his race what kind of man he

CAPITAN VASQUEZ. 87

was, and raise up friends for him in every wayside
hut and every mountain pass.

Eosalia and her husband w ere consulted on his
scheme of robbery and murder, and they both
assented to the deed which made the name of Tres
Pinos roll and echo through the land.

88 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE X.

BRIGAND LIFE.

TRES PINOS, a white hamlet on the Eio San
Benito, was selected for the scene of his revenge.
A mail passes through Tres Pinos every night.
The place consists of a post office, a tavern, a
stable, a drinking bar, a smithy, and a barn.
Leandro Davidson kept the hotel, Andrew Snyder
owned a store. Snyder was rich. If all went well
with him, Vasquez could reckon on adding the
profit of money and horses, to the pleasure of
revenge.

Starting from Eock Creek, but leaving Eosalia at
San Embro, the brigands rode down the San Benito
Valley till they came within easy distance of Tres
Pinos. Here they changed hats and cloaks, and
gave a last look at their arms. Leiva and Gonzalez
went up to the hamlet, with orders to lounge into
the bar-room one by one, to call for drink, to count

BRIGAND LIFE. 89

how many men were near, to note how many of
those men would fight, and learn where Snyder
kept his gold. Moreno followed them. Yasquezand
Chavez lay out of sight. On coming to Tres
Finos, Leiva saluted Snyder, asking him to have a
drink. Snyder complied. A dozen loafers hung
about the store. Two of these men were pals of
Leiva, ready to assist him with their knives.
Gonzalez hitched his horse, and took his post. A
team belonging to a man named Haley drove up,
on which Snyder left his store, and most of his
neighbours followed him out into the road. Five
or six loafers stayed behind. Moreno entered by a
side-door with his pistol cocked. ' Lie down ! ' he
hissed between his teeth. ' Down, down ! ' repeated
Leiva. As the loafers dropped, Leiva held Mo
reno's weapon, while that brigand rolled them over,
tied their hands and feet, and turned their faces to the
wall. A rag was thrown on each, so that he could
see nothing; and Leiva told them, with a string
of oaths, that any one who either moved a limb or
raised a murmur should be blown to pieces. Snyder
was still chatting with Haley in the road, when
Chavez came up, and asked him to go in, and find

90 WHITE CONQUEST.

a letter in the post bag. On entering he was
seized. ' Lie down ! ' roared Leiva. Snyder glanced
around, but five or six revolvers met his gaze.
4 Lie down,' exclaimed Moreno, ' or we'll blow the
top of your poll off! ' Snyder was tied and covered
like the rest. The rifling then began. Goods,
clothes, and even meats, were put into sacks and
tied up, ready to be flung across the mules. Gon
zalez attended to the stable and the barn.

A shot was heard, and then a cry of pain, but
no one knew on whom the bolt had fallen. No
man dared to rise. A second shot was heard,
followed by a piteous wail, and every one knew that
blood was being shed. A moan came through the
door ; but not a soul could lift the cover from his
face.

Vasquez had shot one man named Hill, a second
man named Eadford. They were strangers, but
the colour of their skin was an offence. Davidson
was trying to close the door of his hotel, when
Vasquez, noticing his movement, raised his gun,
and brought the poor innkeeper to the ground.
Davidson never spoke again. Then turning to the
teamster Haley, Vasquez said to him, 4 Lie down ! '

BRIGAND LIFE. 91

' What for ? ' asked Haley. Yasquez kicked
him in the ribs, and knocked him on the skull.
'Lie still,' he snarled, while tying him in a rope,
emptying his pockets, and pitching him under the
horses' feet.

4 All done there ? ' the Capitan now cried to those
inside. Yes : all was done ; a stock of goods and
clothes, eight horses, and two gold watches were
secured. But they had found no money in the till.
No money ! Jesu Maria, all this blood, and not a
dollar for our pains ! Striding into the room,
Vasquez took hold of Snyder, and with pistol pointed
at his temples, pulled him to the porch. ' I want
your money ; if you bring it out I spare your life,
if not you are a dead man.' Snyder led him to the
door of his wife's apartment.

' Any one with arms in there ? ' asked Yasquez,
pausing at the door. A woman came out. c They
want my money, dear,' said Snyder. ' They shall
have it if they do no harm,' she answered, and she
brought out all her coin. Snyder was taken back,
and tied once more; after which the brigands
packed their spoil, mounted their horses, and de
camped.

92 WHITE CONQUEST.

On quitting Tres Pinos. the band separated ;
Leiva's pals going off at once, Moreno and Gon
zalez afterwards. Pursuit was certain to be hot ;
and Vasquez thought that for a few weeks to come
every man had better look to himself. Leiva
and Chavez rode all night with their Capitan,
hardly slackening speed until they reached San
Embro, where Rosalia waited for her hero, and
received him with the raptures due to his great
deed.

Eosalia's rapture was the ruin of his gang.

Tipsy with love and joy, the brigand's mistress
was so indiscreet in her caresses that her husband's
eyes were opened. Leiva began to watch his
cousin and his wife. In going from San Embro
to Eock Creek, he saw enough to satisfy him that
his wife was false. He spake no word, but, like
a hybrid cur, skulked about Eock Creek, living
with his false wife and false friend, until he heard
that Adams, sheriff of Santa Clara, and Eowland,
sheriff of Los Angeles, were in the field, scouring
the country in pursuit of the assassins. Then he
slipped away unseen, riding from point to point,
ready to give himself up, and, on a promise of

BRIGAND LIFE. 93

blood-money, to lead the rangers • straight into the
robber's lair.

On finding his lieutenant gone, Vasquez. put
Eosalia on a mule, and bore her to a place of safety
near Elizabeth Lake. Thence he rode back to Eock
Creek, the camp where he had stalled his horses and
concealed his goods. One day the rangers ran him
down, but after some sharp fighting he escaped
into the copse. At El Monte he had a second
scrimmage with the rangers, and the chase became
so hot that he feared Eosalia might be stolen from
his arms. Eiding down to the lake, and lifting her to
his crupper, he set out for Eock Creek, as being the
safest place he knew. No ranger had as yet been
near the creek, for Leiva had not fallen in with Eow-
land ; and even after his flight, the brigand hardly
thought his lieutenant would betray him for a
woman's sake. They watched and waited ; hoping the
hue and cry would turn some other way. Before
Eosalia had been many days in her lover's camp,
scouts brought in news that the rangers of Los
Angeles were coming up the creek, riding in
fiery haste and overpowering strength,

Vasquez and Eosalia were alone: ' I hear their

94 WHITE CONQUEST.

hoofs,' said Vasquez, stepping out of his cave into
the road. His mistress followed at his heels.
' We may as well go on and meet them,' he said
jauntily, but when the rangers came in sight, Vasquez
beckoned to Eosalia, who slipped after him silently
into the wood and let them pass. His cave was found,
his camp captured ; thirty-six horses being retaken
and restored to their several owners, as well as much
of the property stolen from Tres Pinos.

Leiva, who was still lurking in the neighbourhood
watching the White rangers, now came in, and
Eowland, after listening to his tale, engaged his
services as scout and guide. At length the Sheriff
saw a chance of hunting the assassin down.

Aware of what was now going on, Vasquez took
Eosalia to a shepherd's ranch, where she lay in
hiding three or four months, her lover going to
see her now and then by stealth. Here they began to
flout and quarrel. Vasquez had a dozen favourites
whom he liked to see, and when Eosalia moped at
being left so long, he told her he was weary, and
must send her home. Not to let her go empty, he
rode over the ridge to that Firebaugh ferry, on the
San Joaquin river, where the passengers are all

BRIGAND LIFE. 95

Judges and Colonels, and having tied and robbed ten
White men and one Yellow man, he brought their
clothes and money to Eosalia, put her on a mule,
and sent her under escort to her father's house.

Believing he had now done everything that a
lover should do for a woman who has ceased to please
him, Vasquez put Eosalia from his mind, except so
far as his lieutenant Leiva was concerned in her
affairs. Wanting to see no more of Leiva's wife, he
hoped his cousin would take her back, forget his
fit of jealousy, and rejoin the band. But Leiva's
savage blood was stirred. The perfidy of his friend
and the desertion of his wife had driven him mad.
Instead of coming to the camp, he hung on Vasquez 's
footsteps like a Cuban bloodhound on the scent, not
daring to attack him face to face, but hiding in his
path, spying out his comings and goings, and crying
to the bolder hunters, till he found his opportunity
of dragging him to a felon's cell.

Guided by Leiva's messages, Eowland was often
in his track and always on his trail. Not once but
many times, the brigand had to crouch in the bush,
and let the fierce pursuit sweep on. Nimble as a
cantamount, Vasquez could climb into a tree or creep

96 WHITE CONQUEST.

into a hole. One day, while he was flying up a hill
near San Gabriel, followed by Rowland and a^dozen
rangers, he met John Osborne, Charley Miles, and
two other citizens of Los Angeles driving in a stylish
team. ' Halt there ! ' cried Vasquez. Osborne, not
knowing who the man was, began to laugh, and
shaking his rein, drove his horses on three of the
gang who happened to be riding behind their
chief. Vasquez put up his rifle,

' Out with your money ; quick ! A dozen men
are coming up.'

Osborne declared that he had no money.

1 Then I '11 take a watch,' said the impatient
Vasquez. Miles and Osborne eyed each other.
Miles had a hunting lever, Osborne a gold repeater.
' Come, come,' cried the robber, looking down the
road, and seeing the cloud of mounted men not
more than a thousand yards behind, ' I'll take them
both. Good-bye ! '

Unable to ride the brigand down, Rowland,
acting on Leiva's hints, affected to renounce the chase.
Vasquez believed the storm gone by. His scouts were
near the sheriff of Los Angeles day and night, and
finding that he sat in his office, carelessly smoking his

BRIGAND LIFE. 97

cigar, and chatting lazily with anyone who called,
the scouts imagined that Sheriff Rowland had given
up the game, and that the mystery of Tres Pinos,
like so many other mysteries of crime in California,
was a thing of the past.

Ten miles from Los Angeles, at the foot of a
ridge of hills, stands the lonely ranch belonging to
Greek George — Jorge el Griego — which Vasquez
made his lair. Windows command the two ap
proaches to his house. A look-out sweeps his line
of road. A dozen trails, unknown to strangers,
lead into the hills, in which are many clumps and
caves. It is a station to defy surprise. Greek
George was in Los Angeles, watching the Sheriff's
movements, and reporting to his chief that every
thing looked well.

One night a little ' after twelve o'clock, Under-
sheriff Johnson rode out of Los Angeles, with
seven companions at his side. At dawn they drew
up, under cover of a knoll, and held a long palaver.
Some members of the party clomb a height, from
which a field glass showed them every part of
Greek George's house and grounds. A horse, often
ridden by the brigand chief, was hitched to a tree ;

VOL. I. II

98 WHITE CONQUEST.

and Vasquez himself was observed standing near the
house. A white horse belonging to Chavez was
bolting, and a mounted man was giving chase.

No doubt the under-sheriff and his rangers had
their game in front, but how were they to seize it
in the snare ? The battery was masked, the garri
son unknown. If any one were at the look-out in
the hills, Vasquez would be warned of their
approach, and with a start of ten minutes he could
defy them to run him down. Even from his win
dow, their approach would be observed a mile off,
giving the murderers time to run for shelter to the
woods.

Chance brought assistance to the rangers,
for a Mexican team drove up from the direction
of Greek George's ranch. Johnson seized this
waggon, bade his men picket their steeds, crawl
into the wagon, and lie flat down. Each ranger
had his rifle ready for the fray. Putting a pistol
to the driver's ear, Johnson told him to shut his
mouth, and drive back towards Greek George's ranch.
In a few minutes they were at the fence. The team
stopped, the rangers leaped out. Two of the party
ran to the west side, four made for the front. A

BRIGAND LIFE. 99

female, opening the door, and seeing so many armed
men, raised a scream, and tried to close the door
in their faces ; but the rangers were too quick for
her, and, tearing in, some of them caught sight of
Vasquez leaping through a slit in the adobe wall.
A bullet grazed him as he sprang. ' There he goes
through the window,' cried the ranger who had
fired. Lighting on his feet in the garden, Vasquez
looked around, as if in doubt. There stood his
horse, if he had only time to mount. There grew
the copse, if he had only time to hide. A second
bullet struck him, and he reeled and fell. Bounding
to his feet, like a wild cat, he glared from ranch to
road,, from horse to copse. A third shot smote him.
Blood was flowing from his face and from his side.
The game was over ; he threw up his hands.

' Senor, you have done well,' he said to the under-
sheriff, who arrested him ; ' I have been fooled, but
it is all my fault.' He spake no more.

The rangers laid him on a pallet in the court
yard, believing he was near his end. A tress of
black hair and photographs of two children were
found in his vest. The lock of hair was tied in a
bit of blue ribbon. The photographs, he said, were

H2

ioo WHITE CONQUEST.

pictures of his children. Of the tress he would say
nothing ; but he gave the lock to Johnson, as a
brave man ; ' a brave man like myself — a brave
man like myself,' he added more than once ; begging
the under-sheriff to preserve it with the care of a
gentleman till he asked for it again. Then he lay
down on his pallet, fainting from loss of blood.
Adon Leiva was avenged.

LOVE AND DEATH. 101

CHAPTEE XL

LOVE AND DEATH.

THOUGH Capitan Vasquez never sighed in vain to
senorita, lie nursed a great contempt for women.

4 Do you think a woman had to do with your
arrest?'

' No, surely not,' replies the brigand with a
sneer : ' I never trusted women in my life.'

6 Not with the secret of your hiding-places in
the hills?'

4 No, Senor ; I never put myself in any woman's
power, by telling her a secret that could do me
injury.'

Yet men may be betrayed who never give
their trust, even to the women they profess to love.
His wounds being dressed, the brigand has been
brought to San Jose, where he is nearer to the white
settlements, than at Los Angeles. At San Jose, he is
overshadowed by the power of San Francisco.

102 WHITE CONQUEST.

San Jose, one of the Free Towns, has, like Los
Angeles, a lower class of moDgrel breed and vicious
life ; one of the great sinks from which such chiefs
as Soto and Vasquez draw their bands. But these
bad elements in the town, though rough and noisy,
quail before the steady courage of the upper class
— White men of British race, who having grown rich
as advocates and physicians, bankers and merchants,
have built their country houses on Coyote Creek ;
converting a camp of troops and squaws, with their
unruly progeny, into a paradise of villas, colleges,
and schools. These new comers are enrolled as
vigilants, and are masters of the town.

While waiting trial, Vasquez is behaving like a
true half-breed, lying in the faces of his friends,
boasting of his noble deeds, and acting basely to
wards the woman who has wrecked her soul for
him. He tells all those who go to see him, that he
never killed a man in his life — not even Davidson.
Leiva, he says, shot all the three men who were
butchered at Tres Pinos. Having won Eosalia's
love, in fair rivalry against her husband, he asserts
that Leiva, like a jealous cur, betrayed him to the
sheriffs out of envy at the preference of his wife.

LOVE AND DEATH. 103

Sometimes he prattles of a second mistress, but
lie never breathes her name, and does not mark this
woman, as either the mother of his child or the
female of his cherished lock.

When ladies come to see him in his cell, he
takes a tone of gallantry, yet with an air and distance
flattering to their sex.

' I am distressed,' a lady says, ' to see so brave a
man as you in such a place/

'Senora,' smirks the brigand, 'if I were as
brave as you believe me, I should never have been
here at all.'

' Well,' sighs his visitor, touching his bandaged
fingers, ' I am grieved to think they caught you in
the ranch.' He looks into her eyes, and lifting up
his wounded hands, exclaims, ' Que las bendi-
ciones cle Dias sean siempre contigo ! ' — (may the
blessings of God be showered on you for ever
more).

His cell is full of gifts— food, clothes, and money;
sent by his admiring countrymen and more admi
ring countrywomen. A purse is being raised for his
defence, and every one expects a stormy trial, a
timid jury, and a doubtful sentence.

104 WHITE CONQUEST.

' No one dares convict Iiim,' says a Mexican,
who is sitting next to me at table.

' Not if he is guilty of three murders ? \

c Not if he is guilty of a hundred murders — as
they say he is. Whether right or wrong, our
people think him an injured man, who loves his
country and his religion, and is persecuted for the
love which thousands share with him. They make
his cause their own. No jury in San Jose will
dare to find Tiburcio Vasquez guilty of a capital
crime.'

An English settler listens to this talk, and when
the Mexican stops, he says quietly, 'In that case,
Tiburcio Vasquez will be lynched.'

' Lynched — by a White mob ? '

' Yes, if you like the word, by a White mob. I
know the temper of our people well ; their blood is
up this time ; and whether the jury find him guilty
or not guilty, Vasquez will be hung at San Jose.'

This settler speaks the truth. The British race
is master in these valleys ; and the British race de
mands the brigand's blood.

LOVE AND DEATH. 105

Postscript.

Capitan Vasquez lias been tried, found guilty,
and executed. As all the twelve jurors on the panel
are English in name, we need not wonder that they
agreed to hang the murderer. Eosalia figures
largely in the evidence ; the theory set up in favour
of Vasquez being rather Indian than Spanish in
character. Yasquez and Leiva were pictured to the
jury as rivals in love with the same woman ; Vas
quez having advantages of person, Leiva advantages
of position. Any reference to Leiva's rights as
Eosalia's husband was thought superfluous. Eosalia
was represented as fair game for any lover to run
clown and capture. Vasquez ran her down; on
which his rival, stung by jealousy, sold his secret to
the sheriff. Mexicans would side with the bold
wooer and the false wife, not with the deceived and
outraged husband. Leiva admitted he was jealous,
and that his jealousy drove him to betray his chief;
but he denied that any of the facts which he had
stated under oath were false.

Judge Belden told the jury that a man's oath is
not to be rejected on the ground that his wife has

106 WHITE CONQUEST.

violated her marriage vow. This rule of law, so
simple to an English ear, is inconceivable to a
Mexican. If a wife is false, the Mexican thinks her
husband is sure to go, in his revenge, beyond all
legal and moral bounds. He will do any deed,
swear any lie. The fact that he is wronged in his
honour makes him a criminal, not to be credited on
his oath. An English jury, having no difficulty in
accepting Leiva's evidence, found a verdict of guilty
against the brigand.

Belden deferred his sentence till an appeal for
a new trial was Beard and dismissed. Then he
addressed the bandit, in words which burn with all
the passion of the White Conquest, when the White
conquerors have been provoked by deeds of blood :

c Tiburcio Vasquez — Aided by the situation of
the country, you eluded for a time the officers who
were in your pursuit, and at last seemed to have
fancied that your offences were forgotten and your
safety assured. Unfortunate man! Vain delusion!
The blood of your murdered victims cried unceas
ingly for vengeance, and there could be for your
crime no forgetfulness, for you no refuge. Justice
might be for a time delayed — she would not be

LOVE AND DEATH. 107

baffled. The State whose laws you set at defiance,
whose citizens you had ruthlessly murdered, aroused
herself for retributive justice. The Commonwealth,
with all her resources of men and treasure, was
upon your track with tireless purpose and exhaust-
less means. She followed you in all your wander
ings, and made of your vicious associates her most
efficient instruments. In every camp that gave
you shelter, her officers bartered for your surrender.
In the confederates you trusted, she found the man
ready to betray you. From such a pursuit there
could be no escape, and you are here — here with
the record of your lawless life well nigh ended,
without one act of generosity or deed of even
courage to relieve its utter depravity. The appeals
you have made to your countrymen for aid in your
present distress have met a response becoming them
and befitting you. Shocked at your atrocities, they
have neither aided you to escape the punishment
merited nor pretended the sympathy you have
sought to invoke. They have left you to answer
alone at the bar of justice. With the memory of
your many victims before you, and the dark shadow
of an approaching gloom about you, indulge no

io8 WHITE CONQUEST.

illusive hope that the fate can be averted or long
delayed. Every appeal that zeal could suggest or
eloquence urge was pressed upon your jury in the
hope that they might be persuaded to leave for you
the pitiful boon of life ; but the jury heard the story
of your crimes from yourself; they accepted the
responsibility of adjudging the penalty merited ; and
in their deliberations they determined and in their
verdict declared you unworthy to live. Of that
verdict there can be but one opinion — that of un
qualified approval. Upon this verdict the law de
clares the judgment, and speaking through the
Court, awards the doom — a penalty commensurate
with the crime of which you stand convicted, and
therein merited by the threefold murder that stains
your hands. The judgment is — death. That you
be taken hence and securely kept by the sheriff of
Santa Clara cotmty until Friday, the 19th day of
March, 1875. That upon that day, between the
hours of nine o'clock in the morning and four in the
afternoon, you be by him hanged by the neck until
you are dead. And may God have mercy on your
soul.'

He was taken out and hung accordingly. An

LOVE AND DEATH. 109

attempt at rescue was expected ; but the White
citizens were ready ; the lower classes saw that the
case was desperate; and on Friday, March 19,
Capitan Vasquez, the most famous brigand in Cali
fornia, dangled from a tree in San Jose.

no WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER XII.

CATHOLIC MISSIONS.

4 WITH fifty thousand dollars,' the bandit said at
San Jose, ' I could have raised an army, driven out
the English settlers, and cleared the southern
counties of California from Santa Clara to San Diego.'

Men less heated than the prisoner think that if
Vasquez had been cursed with as much genius for
affairs as Castro and Alvaredo, he might have
caused a civil war and cost the State much blood
and coin.

These persons judge by what is going on in Mexico,
a country very much like California, being occupied
by half-breeds, with a sprinkle here and there of
such dons and caballeros as we find in the streets
and billiard-rooms of Monterey. Over the border,
nothing is easier than for a man like Vasquez to
provoke a riot, desecrate a church, expel a governor ;
but a rise of rustics, at the call of men devoid of

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. Iir

character and position, is not easy in a land of
settled farms, wedded by railway lines and telegraph
wires to strong and populous towns. In California
such rustics would be trampled in the dust and scat
tered to the winds. A fire will lick up straw
hutches that would hardly leave a mark on granite
walls.

No rising of these Half-breeds, as they now begin
to see, can shake the solid structure of American
rule. If the Mexicans, either pure or mixed, are to
keep alive their name and faith in presence of the
British races, they must seek support in Catholic
colleges like Santa Clara, not in brigand camps near
San Benito Peak.

Two miles north of San Jose peep out the
capulas and spires of Santa Clara ; once a seat of
the Franciscan friars, a centre of the Catholic mis
sions ; now, according to the change of times, the
site of a Jesuit college, and a source of Catholic
teaching for the whole Pacific slope.

Lying in the midst of oak and cedar, glancing
over sparkling waves, sheltered in the arms of lofty
hills, Santa Clara has a charm of scenery and situa
tion to attract the eyes of any one who, having made

112 WHITE CONQUEST.

his fortune, wants to build himself a poetic home.
A hundred villas nestle in the woods, a hundred
chalets climb the hills. A railway belts the town.
Schools, churches, banks, hotels, and hospitals
abound. Here stands a court-house, there a univer
sity. Santa Clara is an English town, alive with-
English fire and hope ; and yet, one turns from all
these signs of a new order to the old Franciscan
cloister, in the cells of which the city of Santa Clara
had her birth.

Slouching at the college gate, stands an old
Indian, called Marcello, dressed in tags and beads,
like a Mexican. He is waiting for his daily dole.

Marcello is a double of the patriarch of Carmelo
Bay. A child when Fray Tomas de la Pena built
this cloister, and laid out these walks, the old chief
has lived through many histories. Within his five
score years the Spaniards have come and gone, the
Mexicans have risen and fallen. Living under many
flags, he has been a thrall of Spain, a citizen of
Mexico, a vassal of California, an outcast of the
United States. To him these changes have been
like an evil dream, of which the sense escaped his
mind, while the pang remained in his flesh.

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. 113

One day his neck was under foot of king and
friar, next day under that of judge and general ;
and of these four tyrants, he found the judge and
general far less mindful of his rights than priest
and king. As one of the converts of St. Francis, he
was lodged and fed ; but since his year of freedom,
he has been a beggar and an outcast in the land of
which he was once a prince.

At Santa Clara lay the camp and refuge of a
band of brethren, who in pious zeal, without an eye
to their own profit, lived among a herd of savages
for more than sixty years, making the one great
effort that has ever yet been made to save the
natives of this coast. Ten or twelve missions
were engaged in carrying on the work ; missions at
San Diego and Santa Barbara, at San Luis Obisco
and San Carlos, at Soledad and San Juan, at San
Jose and San Francisco ; but the heart and brain,
the rule and method, of this great Christian experi
ment, were at Santa Clara. Here the provincial
had his seat. Here strangers in the country were
received. Hither came every one who wished to
make a fortune, or to thrive at court. Eeports
were sent from other missions to Santa Clara ; every

VOL. I. I

ii4 WHITE CONQUEST.

rescript and command was issued from Santa Clara.
Santa Clara was the court and capital of this
Franciscan Commonwealth.

The brethren of St. Francis failed to establish
a sacred Commonwealth in Upper California, and
their work has passed into other and stronger hands.
They failed, as the English church failed in Ireland,
as the Sept-Insular Eepublic failed in Greece, from
lack of nationality. Even at the best their rule was
alien, and supported from without. They had no
root in the soil. Yet who can say, with justice, of
the Franciscan brethren, that they failed so signally
as to deserve no record of their work, no pity in
their fall. Some of the brethren may have been
imperfect in their lives. Being flesh and blood, they
must have caught some virus from the soil. They
were not always meek. A bad friar may have loved
strong waters, and indulged in pleasures contrary
to his vows. Too many were puffed out with pride.
At times their rule was so heavy as to lead a
stranger, like Vancouver, to declare that he could
see no difference between the treatment of a Fran
ciscan's convert and a planter's slave.

No doubt, again, their method laid them open to

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. 115

some censures of a general kind. They took pos
session of the soil, and held their prize with an
unyielding hand. They woke no sense of pro
perty in the Indian mind. They were inclined to
keep all tribal usages and customs. Caring little
for freedom, they retained in thrall a people who
had always lived in thrall. They seldom interfered
with family life. They let the sale of girls go on ;
and visited hutches where the bucks had several
squaws. They left the ancient superstitions in the
lodge, content with giving them new names.

Yet, be their errors small or great, these brethren
kept the tribes alive. A race of savages was drawn
by them into a semblance of Christian order, and
endowed with some slight knowledge of domestic
arts. A prospect of improvement for the children
yet unborn was opened out. Who says the fathers
left no fruits ? Why, thirty years after landing on
these coasts, they had cleared and settled the choicest
spots from San Diego to San Francisco. They owned
sixty-seven thousand horned cattle, a hundred and
seven thousand sheep, three thousand horses and
mules. When the Mexicans broke in, they had a
colony of eighteen hundred converts in this valley of

ii6 WHITE CONQUEST.

Santa Clara, living on the soil, more or less settled,
earning their bread by labour, with tho males and
females taking on themselves an equal share. They
owned twelve hundred horses, thirteen thousand
horned cattle, fifteen thousand sheep, hogs, and
goats. The other missions were like Santa Clara ;
each had her colony of converts, and her wealth
of kine and sheep.

Where are these converts now? Too many of
them are scattered to the woods, or laid beneath
the grass.

What other order or society has ever put out
hand to help these people ? Mexico dispersed their
teachers, and divided the common lands. In five
or six years those lands were gone. A free man,
holding an estate, can sell it ; and the only use ever
made by these Indians of their freedom was to sell
their lands and purchase drink.

When the United States came in, these tribes
were overlooked, and down to this moment they
are virtually overlooked. Within the districts
covered by the old Catholic Missions, there is only
one small agency ; a mere farm on Tule River.
The Indians have neither lands nor cows ; the flocks

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. 117

and herds which they reared under the friars have
disappeared.

In northern California, beyond the mission
limits; there are two more agencies ; one agency in
Hoopa Valley, a second in Bound Valley ; but from
Trinidad to Carmelo, on a line three hundred miles
in length, till lately peopled by a gentle though a
savage race, the native tribes and families are
abandoned to disease and death. Even in the two
agencies, little has been done. Five years ago a
trapper and a trooper were employed to rule and
guard these savages. The trapper failed to mend
their morals, the soldier to restrain their vaga
bond ways. Neither trapper nor trooper could
prevent them from perishing in a country full of
wild game, and in a climate favourable to length of
days.

If the Franciscans failed, they only failed where
everybody fails. At Eureka, in the Humboldt
Valley, American soldiers are stationed, as Spanish
soldiers used to be stationed at San Carlos and Santa
Clara. What is the result ? American officers and
soldiers take to Eed women, much as Spanish officers
and soldiers took to Eed women. Knight, a Califor-

ii8 WHITE CONQUEST.

nian advocate, was sent to Humboldt Valley to re
port, and these are some of his unflattering words :

' There have been in this valley from one to two
hundred soldiers, and I think at least half of their
pay goes in that way. There have been a.bout ten
employes, averaging sixty dollars per month each,
and I believe half of this went the same way. The
commissioned officers made large outlays in the
same direction. This, taken altogether, more than
doubled the government bounty. Its effect on the
Indians has been terrible. Half breed children,
disease, loss of self-respect, are only a part of the
evils. It has dethroned the chief, set aside the
influence of the father, husband, and head of family,
and brought to the front, in all things, the good-
looking and profligate young women. They flaunt
round in gaudy finery, while their elders are naked
or clothed in rags.'

No fiscal from Santa Clara ever told a truer and
a darker story of what he found in Santa Barbara
and Soledad.

Aware how much had been done by the Francis
cans under great and ever-growing difficulties, the
Americans have lately paid those fathers the compli-

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. 119

ment of restoring their system — so far as a Protestant
people and a secular government can restore their
system — by placing these agencies under the control
of religious bodies, chiefly Methodists and Quakers.
But these purer agents have not stopped the progress
of decline, and hardly raised, as yet, the tone of
such few stragglers as survive. Old bucks go
naked ; young bucks get drunk. Fathers still sell
their daughters to the Whites. A slave trade more
revolting and atrocious than the sale of Negroes is
conducted under the eyes of Christian judges, as
it used to be conducted under the eyes of Franciscan
priors. No native either gives a vote or exercises
public trust. The tribes are tied to certain spots,
cooped in like kine, from which they may not stir.
under penalty of being hunted down, tied up with
thongs, and lashed to their old posts. Compelled
to work for the White farmers, they are lucky if the
master is kind enough to lend them a gun to kill
their food. They can be sent from master to
master, and removed from one agency to another
against their wish.

A man like Vancouver would find it hard to see
in what respect their freedom under the Stars and

120 WHITE CONQUEST.

Stripes differs from their slavery under the red and
yellow flag.

Yet the tribes and families which fell under the
Franciscan Commonwealth are more advanced and
better off than any other Eed tribes and families.
An Indian commissioner, who has no clerical bear
ings to betray his judgment, writes: — 'The mission
Indians, having been for the past century under the
Catholic missions established on the California^,
coast, are tolerably well advanced in agriculture,
and compare favourably with the most highly civil
ised tribes of the East.' He adds, in detail, that-
these civilised Indians ' support themselves by
working for White settlers, or by hunting, fishing,
begging, and stealing, except a few, who go to the
military post for assistance in the way of food.'

These waifs in the agencies have some support ;
the other waifs and strays have none. Since they
lost the friars, these converts have been perishing in
their tens, their fifties, nay their hundreds ; yet the
State does nothing for them, and the sturdy settler,
in his hurry to be safe, is brushing them from his
path as roughly as he stamps out wolves and bears.

What wonder, then, that old Marcello should re-

CATHOLIC MISSIONS. 121

gard each step of progress as a loss? Whatever
flag is up, his people perish from the soil. The
chief has lived too long, having lived to see his
tribe converted, liberated, and destroyed.

No government or society has known so well as
the Franciscans how to rule this savage and pacific
race.

122 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XIII.

THE JESUITS.

' THEIR task is done, and they are gone,' says Padre
Varsi, Principal of the Jesuit College in Santa Clara,
and an eminent member of his company.

A tall, dark figure, with a face of antique mould,
in which the natural force seems tamed by fasting,
prayer, and self-control, the reverend Father has
lived in many cloisters, travelled in many countries,
and is well acquainted with the world. He seems
to live in his retreat, taking no thought of the
world beyond his college gates ; yet he is quick
with news, and has a perfect knowledge of what is
passing in the courts of London and Berlin, Paris and
Eome.

He need to have his eyes and ears alive. A
great and arduous labour lies before him and the
other Jesuits in California, for their Church has lost
her ancient empire on the coast, and they are

THE JESUITS. 123

cnarged with a commission to restore that empire to
the Papal chair.

' When I first came to Monterey,' said Spence
to me the other day, 'every man in this country was
a Catholic, every woman a devout Catholic. The
Eoman sentiment was in the air. You could no
more avoid going to mass in the morning than you
could escape sleeping in the fort at night. No other
rites but those of Eome were tolerated in the place.
Whether you liked or not, you were obliged to
keep the customary rules, and call yourself a subject
of the Pope.'

' You were not a Catholic ? '

4 No, I was a Presbyterian, like my father, but a
Presbyterian could not stay in Monterey, so I was
forced to seem a Catholic, in order to stay and carry
on my trade.'

When Spence proposed to marry, he had to go
further still. Not for his blue eyes and yellow locks
would his seiiorita wed a heretic. Her priest forbade
such wickedness, and Spence, in order to secure his
prize, was forced to ask admission to the Catholic
fold. But things are changed. Though Catholic
feeling still runs high, and some old ladies use big

124 WHITE CONQUEST.

words, nobody dreams of asking an American suitor
to renounce his creed in order to obtain a woman's
hand. An upper class now reigns in Monterey
county, over which the priests and Jesuits have no
control. Young ladies look for English mates, aware
that English husbands will draw them to another
Church. In other counties, Borne is weaker than
she is in Monterey. Stockton and Sacramento are
as strictly Evangelical as Pittsburg and Cincinnati.
Oakland and San Francisco rival Brooklyn and New
York. Even Santa Clara has ceased to be a Catholic
town. Where Borne was lately all in all, she shows
to-day no more than a broken sceptre and a scattered
power.

At most the Boman Church retains a foothold in
a section of the country here and there. These
sections lie exposed, and she is still without a native
army to repel attack. Her posts are garrisoned by
foreign troops. Here is her weakness and her misery.
Who drove her Orders into exile ? Not her enemies,
but her sons ; the infants she had nursed, the pupils
she had taught. Who gave her leave to bring these
Orders back ? Her enemies, not her sons ; the very
enemies who resent her policy, and resist her march.

THE JESUITS. 125

; You must be gone,' scream her children, hating
priestcraft more than they love liberty and justice.
4 Our ports are open, even to you,' proclaim her
enemies, loving liberty and justice more than they
fear priestcraft. How, with such poor allies, are
the Jesuits to confront such strong adversaries ?

They have everything to create and to apply.
These hybrids cannot furnish them a decent priest,
much less a learned professor. As a rule the priests
are foreigners. The bishop of Monterey is a Gaul,
the cure is a Swiss. At Santa Clara the professional
chairs are held by English, Irish, French, and Italian
scholars. Not a single Mexican holds a chair. It
is a great misfortune for the fathers, since no people
on earth are so touchy on the point of foreign rule as
those of Spain. But Padre Varsi cannot help this
state of things. A foreigner himself, he sees that
foreigners must supply the lack of native learning,
loyalty, and faith.

The Church has much to do and much to undo.
She has to train her officers to command, to teach
her rank and file to obey. In front of her stands
an enemy not only armed with physical power, but
strong in law and logic, science and the liberal arts.

126 WHITE CONQLEST.

Such tasks are not for sleepy hollows, and for
teachers hardly taught. In such a fight as Eome is
waging on this coast, the camp must be a college
and the captains must be learned men.

So far the Jesuit fathers see their way. In
taking such a line, how far are they returning to
the ground on which the brethren of St. Francis
staked and lost their cause ?

We pace the Franciscan garden, the old fountain
still playing, the old olive trees bearing fruit. This
garden is an idyl. Note how homely yet pictorial is
that bit of wall on which the winter roses blush and
burn, how daintily these screens and trellises bear
the fruit, how grave and oriental rise yon cypresses
and palms ! Is there not something in this hush
and shade which carries you in fancy to yet holier
spots of earth ? Glancing from the Spanish fountain
to the Syrian palms, I ask the Jesuit father whether
it is certain that their work is done.

' Yes ; that which they could do best is done.'

' Your company will not try to carry on their
work ? '

' Not here and now. The time for such a course
is past. Lessons in farming and in raising stock

THE JESUITS. 127

are not the things most wanted by people in these
valleys. In Algiers and Paraguay, our Fathers
taught the native how to till his soil and gather in
his grain. At Santa Clara we have other things to
do. The native race, for whom the brethren of St.
Francis toiled, is all but gone. Our conflict lies in
other fields.'

Varsi is right. His conflict lies in other fields
than that in which Fray Tomas the Franciscan
laboured. Pausing in the library, the theatre, and
the playground, we note with curiosity his instru
ments of war.

6 Our business,' says Padre Varsi, ' is to educate
the young. Hoping to do our business well, we
have enlarged the old fence, built a new front to the
church, and added new halls and bath-rooms to the
mission-house.'

4 Pray tell me how you got the ground ? '

' By bringing peace into the town, and proving
that we came as friends. My predecessor, Padre
Giovanni Nobili, came to Santa Clara shortly after
the gates were opened to our exiles. There was
some confusion in the place. The brethren of St.
Francis, having just come back, were trying to

128 WHITE CONQUEST.

oust the settlers from their farm and cattle-runs.
Eight lay with the brethren, law with the settlers.
Most of the intruders were English and Americans,
who had bought their farms and cattle-runs from
Mexicans, in free possession at the time of sale.
The purchasers were armed with rifles, and the
courts of law were on their side. What could
the brethren do ? Nobili counselled peace. The
brethren quitted Santa Clara, having lost their means
of doing good. Seeking another field elsewhere,
they left their church and garden to Padre Nobili,
who organised a college, which he hoped to make a
rival of Michigan, if not of Yale/

Padre Varsi has perfected what Nobili began.
In Eome, a Jesuit may denounce the modern
world, but Varsi has to make this modern world a
servant of his Church. ' We pa}T attention to all
improvements in physical science,' he says, and
his laboratories seem to prove that he is right.
Books, tools, instruments, crucibles are of the newest
style. These Jesuit fathers understand their age.
At Santa Clara we find a printing-press, a photo
graphic studio, a monthly magazine. The rooms
are airy, bright, and clean, for the Jesuits strive

THE JESUITS. 129

not only to win their pupils but to keep them long ;
time being required for building up those habits of
thought which a Jesuit thinks essential to the Chris
tian life. We have a brass band, a gymnasium,
a fencing alley, a playground. We count an Owl
Association, a base ball club, a dramatic society,
and a junior dramatic society. Acting of plays is one
of our great amusements, and our theatre is popular
with the young men in our college, and with young
and old men beyond our gates. We sing operettas,
and trip through farces and conversation pieces.
We are fond of picturesque dances, which Father
Mallon, one of our French professors, puts on the
stage with an artistic eye. Of course, we suffer from
the lack of female help, but Father Mallon dresses up
his boys in skirt and bodice, so that folks before the
curtain think them rather pretty girls. He gets the
freshest music from Paris, and we are very rich
just now in that of Monsieur Lecocq. But we are
capable of higher things than acting Furnished Apart
ments; we have tried our luck at Hamlet, and have
played Macbeth with some applause. Shakspeare is
our poet, though we cannot put Othello on the stage
so easily as we can Cherry Bounce.

VOL. I. K

130 WHITE CONQUEST.

The library is mixed, yet many of the books
are new. c Unlike the Trappists,' says Padre Varsi,
smiling, ' we arm ourselves with books instead of
relics. We believe in books.'

Twelve thousand volumes weight his shelves ;
a library which has only three superiors in Cali
fornia ; the Odd Fellows library, the Mercantile
library, and the State library. Some of these books
are rare old tomes, but many of them are lexicons,
translations, and the customary cribs. At Santa
Clara the path of learning is not paved with spikes.

' Two countrymen of yours,' the Padre adds,
' are on our staff; Professor Dance of Oxford, and
Professor Leonard of Cork.' Dance professes English
literature. Leonard, an Irish genius, professes
mathematics, metallurgy, assaying, and other
physical sciences.

' How many Fathers have you in the college ? '

' Forty Jesuits, and nineteen lay brothers ; fifty-
nine in all. But we have branches of the company in
other towns ; one branch at San Jose, with five
Jesuits, and a second branch at San Francisco,
where Father Massenata superintends a school.'

The Fathers keep their college gay and winsome,

THE JESUITS. 131

catching their Hybrid pupils through the sense of
sight. It is their wisdom to be popular. A Jesuit
planted the first vine in Santa Clara, a Jesuit
pressed the first grapes in California. Mission
grapes bring high prices in the market, and Mission
wine is still a favourite of the table. Jesuits are
pleased to hear the merit of these feats ascribed to
them in many a pleasant toast and jovial song.

K 2

132 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XIV.
JESUITS' PUPILS.

YET gravely gay and soberly festive as the Jesuit
College in Santa Clara looks to those who stroll
about gardens and playgrounds, the rules of order
and the methods of instruction are devised with an
austerity that strikes an English eye as almost penal.
With elaborate art these rules and methods are
designed to bring about one great and uniform
result ; a habit of deferring to the Church, to the
abandonment of personal will and independent
thought.

To give the college something of a liberal air,
Santa Clara opens her door to lads of every race and
creed. A Jew, a Buddhist, or an Anglican may
send his son to Santa Clara. As in the case of
Spence at Monterey, the lad must go to mass, but
6 only for the sake of order and uniformity.' Let him
sit through mass and vespers daily, and a boy may

JESUITS' PUPILS. 133

keep his father's creed ; but every pupil of the college
must attend religious worship, and the only exercises
of religion at Santa Clara are those of Eome.

Compared with Christ Church and Trinity, the
college is a prison. The scholastic year consists
of one session of ten months, lasting from the
first week in August to the first week in June.
During this long term a pupil hardly ever quits the
place. No scholar is received for less than half a
year. Ten days are given at Christmas to rest
and absence, but the greatest care is taken lest the
boy should stray in the wicked world. A lad
whose parents live in Santa Clara has a slight
advantage ; he may go to see those parents once a
month ; but only for an hour or so in the afternoon,
and on the strict condition of coming back before
dusk. No pupil of the Jesuits can be trusted in
the city after dark.

Day is given up, in equal parts, to passive obedience
and active work ; these acts being all designed to
wean a pupil from the world, and bring him under
true relations with his Church. From dawn to dusk,
the youth is kept employed. Not only are his
prayers, his meals, his exercises, all set down for

131 WHITE CONQUEST.

him, but even such details as the hour when he may
venture to wash his hands. His times for lying down
and getting up are fixed. The modes in which he is
to fold his coat and put away his socks are solemnly
set forth. If he keeps his rules, a pupil has about
fifty minutes in the twenty-four hours wThich he can
call his own and spend as he thinks fit.

No student is allowed to pass the college gate
unless attended by a prefect or a tutor. Even with
a prefect or a tutor he must not be out at night. A
student is not allowed to read a newspaper, nor to
have a book in his possession, unless such book has
been seen and stamped by Padre Varsi. Beading
magazines and other publications is forbidden. A
student may not correspond with other youths out
side his college. Every letter brought in is read by
Varsi, with the sole exception of such letters as Varsi
knows to have been written by the student's mother.
When Varsi has a doubt, he breaks the seal and
reads. No other person — even a father — has the
right of free communication with a youth at Santa
Clara. Smoking is prohibited, in and out of col
lege. No society or club can be formed without
Padre Varsi's leave. Two faults are marked so high

JESUITS' PUPILS. 135

that they are punished by expulsion. These grave
offences are — first, absence from the college after sun
set; second, disobedience to an officer, expressed
in either word or act. A student is not allowed to
have money in his purse. If he has coppers in his
pocket, he must lodge them with the treasurer.
The sum a parent may allow his son to spend is
practically fixed, since parents are enjoined in no
case to permit their sons to have more than
twenty-five cents a week. Twenty-five cents make
one shilling. Varsi is of opinion that sixpence is
enough.

These rules apply to men of legal age !
'How many pupils have you on the books?'
6 About two hundred names. The numbers vary
with the seasons, but we usually have two hundred
names on our list.'

Such numbers are not large. It may console the
fathers to know that they have more volumes on their
shelves than any other college in California. It may
console them more to find that they have a longer
list of students than the Methodist University in
Santa Clara. But the Evangelical colleges are many,
while the Jesuit college is only one. Catholics have

136 WHITE CONQUEST.

one school at San Jose, a second school at San Fran
cisco, but non-Catholics have fifty schools in these
great towns. The Jesuits are training six hundred
children in these schools ; the rival bodies are
training more than twenty thousand children in these
towns. Considering how lately the whole population
was Catholic and Mexican, and more Catholic than
Mexican, the numbers now remaining under Jesuit
teaching are assuredly not large.

A greater question still remains : how far have
these Jesuits succeeded in their aim of fencing Santa
Clara from the world, and raising up an army of their
own within her gates ?

Enough to lend them- hope, but not enough to
make them proud. With lads of slow and timid
parts, in whom the placid genius of a squaw prevails,
they get their way, and hold their own ; but youths
of quicker pulse and higher heat, in whom the
temper of Castille prevails, tear off the withes that
bind their weaker brethren, and regain their
freedom at a bound. We see examples of the first
kind loafing in the play-ground, and an illustration
of the second kind in our host, an advocate at San
Jose.

JESUITS' PUPILS. 137

Alexander Del mas is a son of Senor Delmas, a
shrewd and wealthy Mexican, of better stock than
the original denizens of San Jose. A Catholic, he
sent his boy to Santa Clara, hoping the fathers
would excite his wits, as he meant him to get his
living at the Californian bar. Young Delmas stayed
some years at Santa Clara, passing through all his
stages with applause. At twenty, thinking his
education done, he went to San Francisco, meaning
to appear in court and enter into active life. A few
days in that city opened his eyes. He found, to his
alarm, that he knew nothing of men, hardly anything
of books. Long lists of mediaeval popes, and the
succession of Jesuits from Loyola to Beckx, were
graven in his memory, but he barely knew the
names of President Lincoln's cabinet, and the great
lawyers who adorn the chairs of the Supreme Court
were all unknown to him.

' Back to my books ! ' he said to himself. Being
fond of Santa Clara, and a favourite of the Jesuits,
he returned to his old rooms ; hoping the fathers
would allow him to read with them, free from the
restrictions under which he had lived so long and
learnt so little. It was a necessity of his career that

138 WHITE CONQUEST.

his raind should take a wider sweep and feed on
stronger food.

He had no time to carry out this plan. When
Senor Delmas heard of his son's return to Santa
Clara, he leaped, with all a Mexican's jealousy of
priests, to the conclusion that Alexander was falling
into a Jesuit snare. Driving to the college, he de
manded leave to see his son : rules or no rules, he
would see his son ; and pushing past the porters, he
strode into Alexander's room.
' What are you doing here ? '
' Doing here, father? Eeading for the bar.'
'You are a scoundrel, sir! You are deceiving
me ; deceiving me, your father ! You are entering
into league with scoundrels. But I understand
their game. You want to be a Jesuit ; yes, my son
desires to be a Jesuit ! Give me no answer, Sir.
I won't believe one word you speak.'

' No, father, no ; a hundred times no ! '
' Ugh ! They have ensnared you, and cor
rupted you. Kino ! They have made you think it
good to be a Jesuit. Look you, boy ! A Jesuit — I
would rather see you dead — here at my feet — dead
in your shroud — than see you in a Jesuit's frock ! '

JESUITS' PUPILS. 139

' My father, you are wrong ! '

' You will not be a Jesuit ? Give me your hand.
Let us get out of this hole. My horse is at the
door. Hang your books and clothes ; let them be
sent on after us. Come ! '

Pulling his son away, the peppery old gentle
man drove him home, and then locking his door,
put the case before him briefly and hotly :

' Take your choice, Alexander ; go into an at
torney's office at San Jose and learn your trade like
a clerk ; or go to Yale and study it like a gentleman.
To which will you go? Speak, Sir; San Jose or
Yale.'

'To Yale,' cried Alexander; and to Yale he

went.

' It was a new world to me,' he says ; ' each man
in that great university was free to go his own way,
to labour as he pleased, to form a character of his
own. At first I was a little timid, feeling the
want of guides. In time I learned to trust my
powers and be a law to myself; and now that I
have tried both systems, I can see that man for
man advocates brought up at Santa Clara will not
be strong enough to hold their own in American

HO WHITE CONQUEST.

courts, against lawyers trained in such a school
as Yale.'

Such is the little history of a life, as told me in
a cMlet of Penitp.ntia Creek, where we rest our
horses for an hour, and eat some excellent Cali-
fornian trout.

According to my friend, life is too ardent in these
settlements for lads in Padre Varsi's school to have
a chance. In Mexico the fathers might do better
with their scholars, but the radicals of Mexico will
not let them open schools .

' Do many pupils at Santa Clara act as you have
done?'

' Yes, more than you would think ; though few
have gone my length. Some slip the noose — go
wild — and turn their freedom to a curse ; while
others, after tasting liberty awhile, slink back into
their chains. A few remain outside, wearing their
gifts like men. A good example lends us strength,
and we have always good examples in our sight. If
I am ever tempted, out of weakness, to fall back, I
fix my thoughts on some such point as Yale in New
Haven, or the Inner Temple in London. Then my
fainting of the heart goes by.'

JESUITS' PUPILS. 141

1 Of course the Jesuits have cut you off? '
'Not openly. By entering Yale, I gave them
much offence. I suffered too, for I was fond of
Santa Clara, and a sort of favourite in the place.
What could I do ? My father bade me go ; my
studies were essential to success. My leaving Santa
Clara was an act of self-defence : but all the same,
my old teachers speak of me as lost.'
4 Lost to them ? '

'Yes, lost to them. I am a runaway slave,
escaped into the freedom of the world. The past
is past. The chain is snapped, the pitcher broken at
the well. No magic can restore the state of mind in
which my youth was spent. I cannot now seek advice,
or yield my opinion to a priest because he is a
priest. In a republic every one has a right to think
and act for himself. For my part, having learnt
this lesson, I shall stick by the republic so long as
the republic sticks by me.'

' No fear of this republic sticking by her
citizens ? '

' No, no,' he answers, pulling up his horses on
a mountain spur, and gazing on the scene below our
eyes with rapture. ' No,' he cries ; ' no fear while

H2 WHITE CONQUEST.

Santa Clara stands on such a shore, and while the
Jesuit fathers have such rivals as the lay men plant
ing these busy towns along the bay. Defended
by the stars and stripes, we shall not fear about
our liberty of thought.'

CHAPTEE XV.

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO.

A LONG and narrow inland sea, about the size and
volume of Lake Leman, open to the ocean by an
avenue called the Golden Gate ; a stretch of water
locked within the arms of picturesque and sunny
hills, with islets sprinkled up and down, as Angel
Island, Alcatraz, and Yerba Buena, round the cliffs
of which skim flocks of gulls and pelicans ; the inner
shores all marsh and meadow, falling backward to
the feet of mountain chains ; shores not only rich in
woods, in springs, in pastures, but adorned at every
jutting point by villages of saintly name ; a group of
white frame houses, partly hidden by a fringe of
cypresses and gum trees, — such is the Bay of San
Francisco, as her lines are swept from Belmont
Hill.

The lordship of this inland sea is written on her
face, as plainly as the legend on a map. The

144 WHITE CONQUEST.

villages of saintly names, San Eafael, Santa Clara,
San Leandro, and the rest, all nestle near the water's
edge, while on the higher grounds, among the creeks
and canons, nearly all the settlements have English
names. Searsville, Crystal Springs, and School
House Station, cover Santa Clara, San Mateo, and
San Bruno on these western heights, while Dublin,
Danville, and Lafayette cover San Lorenzo, San An
tonio, and San Pablo on those eastern heights.
White settlers seize the water edges in all places
where a pier is wanted or a factory can be built.
They clasp the Bay in railway lines, adorn the
tide with sailing ships, pollute the shore with
smoking chimneys, bridge the narrows with ferry
boats. Where water pays, they hug the shore,
defying chills and fevers for the sake of gain ; but
these White settlers never linger in the swamps,
like Mexicans and Half-breeds, merely because the
gourds grow quickly and the fish is cheap.

Driven by a stronger spirit than any native
knows, they search the hills and ravines, fastening on
soils which no Mexican ever dreamt of bringing
under rake and plough. They search the passes
through and through ; here tapping at the rock for

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 145

ore, there burrowing in the earth for coal. Unscared
by sullen soil and nipping air, the Yankee Boys
and Sydney Ducks ascend the loftiest peaks and
crown them with their English names. Such
names are records. Each peak in front of us —
Master's Hill, Mount Hamilton, Mount Day, Mount
Lewis, Mount Wallace — tells a story of ascent
and ownership. Eed Mountain is a British height,
Cedar Mountain is a British height. Behind us
tower Mine Hill, Mount Bache, and Black Moun
tain. Nearly all the passes in these alplets have the
same great legend written in their names. Between
us and the San Joaquin river, three passes cut the
range, and these three clefts are known as Corral
Hollow Pass, Patterson's Pass, and Livermore Pass.
The pass from Clayton down to Black Diamond is
called Kirker s Pass.

These citadels and avenues of nature are in
Anglo-Saxon hands.

At Belmont we are lodged with William C.
Ealston, one of the magnates of this bay ; once a car
penter planing deals, then a cook on board a steamer,
afterwards a digger at the mines, now the president
of a bank, and one of the princes of finance.

VOL. i. L

146 WHITE CONQUEST.

' Come to Belmont ; give you a rest, and do you
good,' cries the magnate. We accept, for not to see
Belmont is not to see the Bay of San Francisco.

Ten years since, Belmont was a rocky canon,
cleaving a mountain side, so choked with spectral
oaks and cedars that the mixed bloods called it
the Devil's Glen. Coyotes and foxes hung about the
woods, and Indian hunters, following elk and ante
lope, lit their fires around the springs. No track led
up the ravine, for no civilised man yet dreamt of
making it bis home. To-day Belmont is like a
valley on Lake Zurich. A road sweeps up the glen
as smooth as any road in Kent. The forests have
been tamed to parks. A pretty chalet peeps out
here and there, with lawns and gardens trimmed
in English taste. Five or six villas crown the knolls
and nestle in the tress. Geraniums are in flower,
and roses bloom on arch and wall. Sheep dot the
sward, and cattle wrander to the creeks. A chapel
and a school arrest the eye. On every side there is
a sense of home.

Our villa is a frame house, built in showy Cali-
fornian style ; a new order of architecture, with a
touch of Moorish taste, and not a little Chinese

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 147

fantasy. A portico, too big for the villa, opens into'
sunny rooms, with inlaid floors and gaily decorated
walls. Much wicker-work is used in chairs and
ottomans. Bright curtains hang from gilded poles.
Pianos, tables, shelves are all of yellow satin wood,
veined with crimson streaks, a wood of Calif ornian
growth. An open gallery, lighted from above, serves
for a public room. A glazed arcade runs round the
villa, flooding it with sunshine, which is teased and
petted through Venetian blinds. The wealth of colour
is enhanced by Eoman photographs in broad black
frames. Nothing could be lighter than our chambers,
nothing could be sweeter than the gardens on which
they give. Vineries and conservatories lie in rear,
and run on either flank below the limbs of ancient
oaks. The lawns and shrubberies are perfect, and
the country round the villa wears the aspect of a
park.

Our host has made himself an earthly paradise
at Belmont, but an earthly paradise in which calmer
mortals than himself will bask. I like the man and
hope the best for him ; yet noticing his restless
eye and paling brow, I cannot help feeling that
with all his jollity and briskness William C. Ealston

L2

148 WHITE CONQUEST.

is the victim of. his enterprise, the slave of his-
success.

All round this inland sea, the life is rich and
strong : rich as the native fruit, strong as the native
wine.

A Californian, fat and rosy as John Bull, his
English ancestor, holds forth a grasp of welcome to-
his thin and bilious Yankee brother ; pointing to a
palm tree, heavy with the dates that are to round
that stranger out with flesh. If he had only time to
eat and sleep, a Californian would be always fat, but
where is the Californian who has time to either
eat or sleep ?

The people living on this sunny sea, are seldom in
a state that country curates would describe as whole
some. Too much sun is in the sky, too much wind
is on the hill. Warm air expands the lungs and
frets the nerves. Men eat too fast, and drink too
deep, and work too long. How loud they speak,
how hard they drive ! At every turn you catch
high words and mark the passage of swift feet.
Under the shadow of Lone Mountain lies a race
course, where bankers and judges hold trotting
matches, and wiry little ponies are excited by

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 149

voice and lash into the pace that kills. That race
course lying in the shadow of a grave-yard is a
type of California in her ordinary mood.

The towns and villages on this bay not only
teem with life, but life in a most strained and febrile
state. No one is calm. No man sits down to smoke
the pipe of peace ; no day seems long enough for the
labour to be wrought. All men and women aim at
emphasis. An actor rants, a preacher roars, a
singer screams. Such talk as suits a London dining-
room sounds tame, such colours as beseem a London
dancing room look dull. The pulses of society beat
too high for ordinary men and ordinary times. A
storm seems beating overhead, a battle raging in our
front. If we would live, we need to be alert and
prompt. A citizen bolts his dinner, gulps his whisky,
puffs his cigarettes, and hurries off. as though he heard
n bugle call. He sits at table with a loaded pistol in
his pocket ; he fingers his bowie-knife while asking
a friend to drink. Suspicion is a habit of his mind.
If quick to see offence, he is no less quick to bury
the offence in blood. A man will shoot his brother
for a jest. Here is a case not many days old. A
luckless wit described his neighbour in one of the

ISO WHITE CONQUEST.

papers as dining at What Cheer House and picking
his tooth at the Grand Hotel ; about the same thing
as saying of a man in London that he boards in
Leicester Square and hangs, about the door at Long's.
The wit was shot next morning in a public road.

A writer has no easy time ; his reader craves
excitement, and he has to feed this passion for
dramatic scenes. Each line he writes must tell a
tale. Each wood must be in capitals. If a writer
has no news, he must invent a lie. One journal is
advertised as bold and spicy, and is true to the
device. It deals with all, spares none. Editors are
always armed; reporters must be steady shots. A
man who cannot shoot and stab had better not
indulge himself with pen and ink. A sufferer burns
a pinch of powder in the nostrils of these editors now
and then, but such a fact is thought too trivial for
report, unless, as in a recent case, a journalist shoots
some passer-by instead of winging his brother to the
land of souls. One afternoon a gentleman was
standing near me on a terrace, looking at some birds
and seals. Knowing the gentleman by repute, I
asked my neighbour :

'Is not that Mr ?'

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 151

. 'Yes.'

' Then introduce me.'

'Hum ! 'says my friend, an Oxford man, ' it is a
little awkward. We have not seen each other
lately ; not that we have quarrelled ; but the last
time we met he fired in my face.'

' Fired in your face ? '

'Well, we exchanged shots. ISTo harm was
done. So long as we avoid each other, things are
smooth ; but if we spoke, blood might be shed.'

Men and women in California are hearty and
open in the highest sense. You are at home in
every house, in every club, in every public place.
Your face is an introduction, your colour a cre
dential. California is a land of treats and drives, of
drinks and dinners. What a host of clubs we have
in every town, and what excellent suppers they
provide! Here hospitality is king. Shall we forget our
forenoons at a country house, our afternoons on a
race-course, our evenings at a club ? Never, till we
have ceased to claim our share in the untameable
vitality of our common race.

These jovial denizens must have their moral as
they have their physical stimulants. One day they

152 WHITE CONQUEST.

go wild about a vein of silver ore ; next day they
forget their silver in the details of a robbery on the
Pacific train. JSTow they expand their hearts on a
trotting match between two famous colts ; anon they
give up their emotion to a murder in the street.
Excitement they must have.

A special man, like Ealston, our host at
Belmont, tries to guard himself by a denial of such
pleasures as his fortune brings within his reach.
He dares not drink a glass of wine. At dinner, a
servant puts a pint of milk before him with his fish,
and pours some drops of lime-water into his mug. A
glass of wine may leave a headache, and a headache
means some loss of time. Time is a talent that he
dares not waste. His billiard-hall is spacious, but he
must not venture on a game. He brings tobacco
from Havana, but he fears to soothe his brain with a
cigar. His house and park are but an hour's ride
from his office, yet he only comes to see them once a
week. Dining quickly, and tossing off three pints of
milk, he rises early, leaves his guests, and goes to
bed. Next morning he is up at four, consulting
grooms, trotting through woods, and visiting farms
and water-works. At ten we see him for a moment,

BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 153

as we break our fast ; at one lie puts us in a drag
and sends us out ; at three we meet him on a hill
above San Mateo, where he is damming a creek and
building a town; at iive, he jumps into the train, his
holiday spent, and hastens to his office in San
Francisco, having done a full week's work in four-
and-twenty hours — a type of the White conquerors
who expend their lives in carrying on the light !

154 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XVI.

SAX FRANCISCO.

CLOSING the passage by the Golden Gate, a city of
white houses, spires, and pinnacles rises from the
water-line, and rolling backward over flat and sand
rift, strikes a headland on the right, and surging up
two hills, creams round their sides, and runs in foam
towards yet more distant heights. This city is San
Francisco, seen from the ferry-boat ; a port and town
with ships and steamers, wharves and docks, in which
the flags of every nation under heaven, from England
to China, flutter on the breeze; a town of banks,
hotels, and magazines, of stock exchanges, mining
companies, and agricultural shows ; a town of learned
professors, eminent physicians, able editors, and dis
tinguished advocates ; a town of gamblers, harlots,
rowdies, thieves ; a refuge for all tongues and
peoples, from the Saxon to the Dyak, from the Tartar
to the Celt.

SAN FRANCISCO. 155

Lovely the city is ; striking in site, brilliant in
colour, picturesque in form. The rolling ground
throws up a hundred shafts and spires against the
sky. A joss-house here, a synagogue there, suggest
an oriental town. The houses, mostly white, have
balconies adorned with semi-tropical plants, among
which flit the witching female shapes. A stream of
sunshine lies on painted wall and metalled roof.
But one has hardly time to note the details of this
outward beauty. You would scarcely have an eye
for nice effects in Venice, if you chanced to enter
that city while the doge's palace and cathedral were
on fire.

This city is in one of her high fevers ; her disease
a great 'development' in the Comstock lode.

Most persons in San Francisco are votaries of
chance. Luck is their god. Credulous as an Indian,
reckless as a Mexican, the lower order of San Fran
ciscans puts his trust in men unknown and builds
his hope on things unseen. Thousands of persons in
this city, otherwise passing for sane, believe in this
' development,' and are sinking all that they have
saved by years of thrift in the several Comstock mines.

The Comstock lode lies on Mount Davidson,

156 WHITE CONQUEST.

in Nevada ; though the mines are chiefly owned by
San Franciscans. Some of these mines, such as the
Ophir and the Mexican, have been worked for twenty
years. The silver veins are long ; four or five miles
in length ; but as no one has yet traced them out,
their value i s an unknown figure. From the stores of
Virginia, built around the openings of these mines, the
silver veins run up a gulch to Gold Hill, where they
strike on beds of still more precious ore. Owned
by rival companies, the mines arc wrought on
different plans. Much ore is found, and till a year
ago owners of Ophir, Mexican, and Consolidated
Virginia, had every reason to be satisfied with their
gains. Of late, the yield of Mount Davidson has
fallen off. The veins run deeper in the rock, need
ing more costly engines and more skilful labour.
Prices have been depressed, and thrifty persons have
been laying up their dollars in savings banks, instead
of sinking them in Comstock mines.

Sharp as a shot has come a change.

' I'll tell you how it came about,' says a banker,
sitting next to me at dinner. ' Five or six of our
worthy citizens, owning shares in Consolidated Vir
ginia, met in a drinking-bar of Montgomery Street one

SAN FRANCISCO. 157

afternoon. Eeports were in the papers, showing the
amount of money in the savings-banks ; no less a
sum than fifty millions of dollars. Tossing off his
whisky, one of our worthy citizens said to another,
" Guess we ought to have that money out ! " They
all agreed with him ; and having formed a ring,
they are now engaged in operations for getting that
money out of the savings-banks.'

These citizens understand the farmers, stockmen,
and petty dealers whom they mean to fleece. In
San Francisco every one is used to changes in the
price of shares, and most of all in that of mining
shares. With all the coolness of a Eedskin, the White
Californian will stake his fortune on a street report,
begun by any person, spread abroad for any pur
pose, hardly caring whether the report be true or
false. Like brandy in his veins, he feels the devilry
that comes with sudden gain and loss. Here is no
old and steady middle class, with decent habits, born
in the bone and nurtured on the hearth ; people-
who pay their debts, walk soberly to church, and-
keep the ten commandments, for the sake of order,
if no higher rule prevails. In San Francisco, a
few rich men, consisting of the various rings, are:

158 WHITE CONQUEST.

very rich. Lick, Latham, Hayward, Sharon, are
marked five million dollars each. Eeese, Ealston,
Baldwin, Jones, and Lux are marked still more —
seven millions, ten millions, twelve millions each.
Flood and Fair, Mackey and O'Brien are said to be
richer still. The poor are very poor ; not in the
.sense of Seven Dials and Five Points ; yet poor
in having little and craving much. A pauper wants
to get money, and to get this money in the quickest
time. Cards, dice, and share-lists serve him, each
in turn. He yearns to be Lick or Ealston — owner
of a big hotel, conductor of a prosperous bank ; but
he neither courts the labour nor endures the self-
denial which have crowned these speculators with
wealth. He thinks all life a game of chance ; he
looks for dollars in the sink and sewer ; and stakes
his savings, when he has them, on a rise in stocks.

These worthy citizens, tossing their whisky in
Montgomery Street, know the lighter and lower
portion of their countrymen ; and in that knowledge
they proceed to form a ring.

A rumour spreads along the streets, and finds an
echo in the evening papers, that a great and wonder
ful discovery has been made in the Virginia mine.

SAN FRANCISCO. 159

* What is it ? ' gasps an eager crowd. With shrugs
and smiles, of deep and hidden meaning, the pro
prietors of that mine affect surprise : ' What is it ?
What is what ? Pooh, pooh, beware of club gossip
and newspaper lies ! ' Some sales take place : a
rise is scored. Outsiders sniff a secret, which the
ring (ha, ha ! — you see !) are trying to conceal.

J^ext day inquiry quickens. Hints are dropped
that the great secret, so far kept by three or four
mining firms, is the discovery of a new vein of silver
in the Virginia mine ; a vein of pure and solid ore, so
fine and solid that it may be minted on the spot,
exactly as it leaves the mine. ' Bonanza ! ' cry the
listeners to this tale ; ' a big bonanza ! '

6 What is a bonanza ? '

' Bonanza is a sailor's term,' the banker tells me,
' meaning a fair wind, a bright day, a prosperous
voyage. Our miners use the word for luck, a nappy
hit, a stroke of fortune. A bonanza is the Calif or-
nian god, and you will find his temple in California
Street.'

In California Street stands the Stock Exchange.

One grain of truth there may be in this rumour
of a vein of silver having been found ; but in a

160 WHITE CONQUEST.

week this grain has grown into a mound. A rush
for shares takes place, and prices rise from day to
day. The betting men come in, and stakes are
laid in many of the drinking bars, that shares now
selling for seventy or eighty dollars each will sell for
five hundred in a month. The journals note these
bets, as showing what the knowing ones think of the
silver vein. Now every one begins to bet, and every
one who bets believes and buys. Who can resist
the golden chance?

Mines only bordering on the big bonanza feel
the charm of a good neigbourhood. No one pretends
that new discoveries have been made in Ophir,
Crown Point, and Yellow Jacket, but who can
swear that veins of pure and solid silver do not run
through all the Comstock mines ? A miner of expe-
*rience has been heard to say that every part of
Mount Davidson is equally rich. Then up go
Mexican, Ophir, Crown Point, Yellow Jacket.
Mines still further off take fire, as one may say,
and blaze like burning stars around these central
suns. In six wreeks everybody in San Francisco is
rich and mad.

Eager for money, still more eager for excitement,

SAN FRANCISCO.

people feel a keen enjoyment in a rapid rise, a lurid
passion in a rapid fall. Their mouths are full of
wondrous tales. Paupers of yesterday are rich
men this evening; millionaires of last week are
to be sold up on Monday next. Such passages of
fortune make the drama of their lives.

Four times within a dozen years, a craze has
come on San Francisco, like the phrenzy which con
sumes her now. Fortunes have been won and lost
almost as rapidly as though they had been staked on
a throw of dice. A man may have a hundred shares
in the Belcher Mine, his only wealth. One day they
sell at a dollar each, — the man is worth twenty
pounds; another day they sell at five hundred
dollars each — the man is worth ten thousand
pounds. This record of an actual fact is but a
sample of the thousand stories told you at the Union
and Pacific Clubs. Two years ago, when prices shot
up suddenly, shares in Crown Point advanced in a
few weeks from ten shillings a share to ninety-two
pounds. A man of my acquaintance in this city
held a thousand of these shares. In March they
would have brought him five hundred pounds, in
October they were sold for ninety-two thousand

VOL. i. M

162 WHITE CONQUEST.

pounds. Iii seven months the poor man had become
a man of means ; enriched by one of those strokes of
fortune that a gambler loves even more than he
loves minted gold.

Such cases are not rare, yet, as a whole, the
gainers by these great financial fevers are the citizens
who own mines. Five or six magnates of finance
in San Francisco are said to have got one-third of
those fifty million dollars under lock and key.

' Our fortunes kill us,' says a sage at the Pacific
Club. 'A slower rate of growth would suit us
better ; giving us more time to strike our roots.
Not that our progress is what people think — a wonder
of the earth. Considering what advantages we boast
of soil and climate, mines and harbours, our advance
is slow. Yes, slow. We are not overtaking Chicago
and St. Louis, still less Philadelphia and New York.
Still we have shot ahead beyond our strength, and
suffer from the fevers and languors of a youth who
grows too fast. Our railroad gave us fits. You
smile ! The fact is so. No sooner were the first
cars seen in Oakland, than a rage of speculation broke
along the Bay. The world, we thought, was coming
to our coasts. Where would the people live P Why

SAN FRANCISCO. 163

not provide them tenements and make a profit by
the enterprise ? We bought estates, we cut down
forests, and we laid out cities, for the millions who
were coming to our coasts. At every opening on
the Bay, you see these visionary towns, with phantom
streets and squares, chapels and theatres, schools and
prisons. But the millions never came, and for the last
five years each man in San Francisco has been carry
ing a dead city on his back. This great bonanza is
another of our fits. There is a true discovery
in the Comstock lode. The world is richer than it
was three months ago, but we are poorer than we
were five years ago. No Eedman ever staked his dog,
his lodge, his squaw in a more reckless spirit than
that in which the White men of San Francisco are
gambling with their wealth.'

1 64 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XVII.

WHITE WOMEN.

NOT even his squaw ! White men have learned
a good deal from the Indian, but they have not learned
to stake their wives, like Utes and Bannocks, on the
chances of a throw. White females are still too rare
and precious on this coast ; some cynics say too
rare and precious for their own well-being, not to
mention the well-being of the Commonwealth.
Nature puts the sexes on the earth in pairs, and
man destroys that balance at the cost of his moral
death.

In California there are five White men to two
White women ; in Oregon there are four White men
to three White women ; in Nevada there are three
White men to one White woman ; in Washington
there are two White men to each White woman.
Under social arrangements so abnormal, a White

WHITE WOMEN. 165

woman is treated everywhere on the Pacific slopes,
not as a man's equal and companion, justly and
kindly like a human being, but as a strange and costly
creature, which by virtue of its rarity is freed from
the restraints and penalties of ordinary law. A man
must be sharply pressed by famine ere he eats his
bird of paradise.

As with the trappers and traders of Monterey, so
with the miners and settlers round San Francisco.
There is a brisk demand for wives ; a call beyond
the markets to supply. A glut of men is everywhere
felt, and the domestic relation is everywhere dis
turbed. Marriage is a career; marriage, divorce,
re-marriage, times without end, and changes without
shame.

A thousand quips and jokes turn on the relation
of man to woman in these provinces, and every quip
and jest gives the last word to the lady as mistress
of the situation. A young fellow, nerved by a wild
impulse, snatches a kiss from a pretty girl, and asks
her pardon, on the ground of his being subject to fits
of temporary insanity. The damsel puts out her
hand in pity, saying, c Poor boy ! whenever you feel
one of these fits coming on again, run right away

1 66 WHITE CONQUEST.

over here, where your infirmity is known, and we'll
take care of you — there ! '

A girl goes into a shop in Montgomery Street to
buy gloves. c What size ? ' asks the young fellow.
' My real size is sixes,' the damsel smiles, ' but you
see my hand will bear squeezing,' — and the bashful
fellow fetches her a pair of five and a half.

A damsel of San Francisco reads in one of Helen
M. Coke's rhapsodies that ' kisses on the brow ' make
the richest diadem for a woman. ' Guess that sort
of kisses is rather thin, sneers the girl, ' and I doubt
whether Nellie Coke herself likes them very much.'

So runs the moral to an end. c Guess my hus
band's got to look after me, and make himself
agreeable to me, if he can,' says a pretty young
woman, in a tone of banter, but a tone that carries
much meaning, ' if he don't, there's plenty will.'

Divorce is cheap and easily obtained. Some
legal firms are known for their alacrity in getting
through such troubles. 'Eesidence not required,'
is one of the hints thrown out in circulars and
advertisements to parties about to be divorced. The
application mostly comes from the woman's side,
and any allegation is enough to satisfy her judge.

WHITE WOMEN. 167

A husband going into court is generally regarded as
a fool. The other day a poor Irishman tried his
best to show that he was ill-used, and ought to be
divorced. The magistrate frowned. ' Well, then, I
won't say anything agin the woman, judge, but I wish
you would jist live with her a little while.' The
judge relaxed, and gave him his release.

Observers notice on this slope a tendency to
hanker after female crime. The motives for this
hankering may be various, but the facts are scarcely
matters of dispute. Few jokes are more successful
in society than such as hint at domestic murder—
at the wife of your bosom making you a cup of
hemlock tea, or blowing your brains out as you lie
asleep. A young Californian lady, just divorced,
complains to her friend, a widow of twenty-five,
that her late husband tells such cruel things of her.

4 And not a word of it true ? '

' My dear, how can you ask ? '

' Only for form's sake. Now, my dear child, I
have had three husbands, no better and no worse
than other men, but they are all gone. My dear,
dead husbands tell no tales.'

With some persons, the motive of this curiosity

168 WHITE CONQUEST.

may be nothing but a tribute to the rarity of female
crime, compared with male. Male acts of violence are
in truth so common, that they fail to stir the general
pulse. Nobody cares to hear about a man being
killed. Last night an Irish labourer was shot in Broad
way, near the county jail. Dick Owen challenged his
chum, Jim Burke, to fight. The two men had been
drinking with their sluts ; the two couples hug
ging and mugging in the imbecile friendships caused
by gin ; until the two sluts fell out and scratched each
other's eyes. Owen and Burke took part in the
affair. ' Come out and fight,' cried Owen, hectoring
under his chum's window. ' Coining down, ye skunk !'
shouts Burke, pulling out his pistol, arid jumping
down the stairs. Owen snapped at him twice, and
Burke returned the fire. Owen fell dead, a bullet
in his heart. This tale is in the morning papers, told
in two inches of type.

But female crime, especially when a lady takes to
shooting her friends and lovers in the streets, or on
the ferries, pays a journal to report the incident at
greater length.

A pistoler like Laura Fair is worth a thousand
copies to an evening paper. Having a secret

WHITE WOMEN. 169

with a married man, and finding that false love run
no smoother than true, Laura loaded her revol
ver, and in presence of his wife and children, pistoled
her paramour, coolly and in open day. Laura is a
heroine. Tried for murder, and acquitted on the
ground of emotional insanity, she lives in style, gives
balls, and speculates in stock. Few ladies are so often
named at dinner-tables, and the public journals note
her doings as the movements of a duchess might be

o o

noted in May fair.

Laura's torch has lighted many a fair sister on the
way to murder ; yet, in spite of this increase in
female crime, no woman's life has yet been given in
California to public justice.

' No, we cannot hang a woman in this country,'
says a judge of the Supreme Court ; ' it is not
easy to hang a man, and when we send a
murderer to the gallows, he complains that he is
made the victim of his judge, and not his jury. A
judge will never get twelve men to find a female
guilty of wilful murder in San Francisco ; nor in
any other city west of the Eocky Mountains. An
excuse is always found by the jury ; a petticoat being
too much for bar and bench ! '

1 7o WHITE CONQUEST.

One day last week, General Cobb, a lawyer of
repute, was shot down in Washington Street by
Hannah Smythe. In London, the story of Hannah
Smythe would be curious, in San Francisco it is
commonplace.

Twelve years ngo, according to her story, Hannah
came to San Francisco, where she met a sailor named
Smythe, and married him — on her side in a match
of love. Hannah had saved some money, and the
couple went down to Crescent City, in Del Norte
county, where she bought a tract of land with her
savings, and sent her husband to the Land Office,
with instructions to register the purchase in her name.
He registered his own. Living in Crescent City,
having neither sheep nor cattle, the sailor's wife
could turn the land to no account. At length a
squatter, one Judge Mason, led his herds into her
fields and challenged her to drive them off. She
went to law, and lost her cause. Her enemy, she
says, was rich, and bribed the local magistrates.
When she had lost her savings, Smythe deserted
her and the children, leaving her without a cent and
with five or six little mouths to feed. On getting
a divorce — an easy thing in Crescent City — she left

WHITE WOMEN. 171

that place, and brought her family to San Francisco,
where she put her younger ones under care of the
Ladies' Belief Society, and set about to earn a poor
living for herself and baby, by washing for such
persons as preferred helping a deserted woman,
to having their work done better and cheaper
by Chang Hi and Hop Lee, Chinese launderers
in Jackson Street.

Mrs. Cobb, one of the relieving ladies, heard her
story from the little folk, and being a tender
hearted lady, with a family of her own, she begged
her husband, General Cobb, to look into the case.
Cobb thought he saw his way, but lawyers like to
touch their fees, and Hannah Smythe was poor.
Having no choice of means, she made over to Cobb
her bit of land in trust, understanding that lie was
to pay all expenses for her, and to hold the pro
perty till she had paid his bill. Five years her suit
dragged on ; Mason fighting her over every point
of law ; until the woman's heart, made sore by long
delays and hopes destroyed, conceived the notion
that her advocate was betraying her to the enemy
for lucre.

' He was going to his office to sign my property

i?2 WHITE CONQUEST.

away, and I hope I have killed him,' were her first
words on being arrested in the street and carried to
the city prison. Bail was found for her at once.

Her crime has raised the poor washerwoman into
the grade of heroine. Whether Cobb will live or
die is not yet known. Kind-hearted Mrs. Cobb may
be a widow, and her children fatherless ; but
whether Cobb survives the deed or not, his client
runs no risk. Hannah Smyth e is a woman, and a
San Francisco jury will not take a woman's life.

173

CHAPTEE XVIII.

BUCKS AND SQUAWS.

MORE than the White women gain, their Bed sisters
lose by this unnatural disparity of the male and
female sexes. In the Indian lodges, there are more
females than males, and in these lodges the females
are bought and sold like cows and slaves.

Bounding Cape Horn and passing the summit
near Truckee, three or four miles from Donner Lake,
the scene of a wild winter legend, we dip into the
valley of Humboldt Biver, a valley rising higher
than the top of Snowdon ; and are now among the
savage mountain tribes — Utes and Shoshones — horse
Indians, they are called, in contrast with the tamer
savages of the Pacific Slope.

At Winnemucca, called after a stout Pah-Ute
war chief, we observe an Indian of another branch
of the Ute family, wrapped in a thick blanket, lean-

174 WHITE, CONQUEST.

ing on a brand, and guarding two crouching squaws.
The air is sharp, the time being mid-winter, and
the plateau higher than Ben Nevis ; yet the two
young women crouching on the ground are
clothed in nothing but cotton rags.

' Pai-Ute ? ' I ask, having lately met some
members of his tribe in Salt Lake City, where the
new developments of doctrine are seducing many of
his people into joining the church of Latter Day
Saints.

' Pai-Ute,' he says.

4 Your name ? '

' Eed Dog.'

' Smoke a cigar ? '

Eed Dog unslips a corner of his blanket, draws
the wool about his throat, and lights the Indian weed ;
a luxury more tempting to his savage tastes than
anything on earth except a drink of fire-water. His
squaws look up and smile, though with a shrinking
air ; an elder and a younger woman ; each with fiat
broad face and dark Mongolian eyes ; one eighteen or
nineteen, the other hardly fifteen, years of age.

' Your squaws ? ' we ask, the man, through one
of the scouts, who hang about these Indian trails.

BUCKS AND SQUAWS. i?5

' Yes, mine. Old squaw, young squaw— big
one, old squaw ; little one, young squaw.'

' Are they both your wives? '

'Yes, both ; this is old wife, that is young wife ;
two squaws— me ! ' and the Ked rascal grins with a
triumphant air, through all his daubs of paint.

6 Are you a Mormon, eli P '

4 Plenty of Pai-Utes are Mormon chiefs ; Pai-
Utes very fond of Enoch,' says Eed Dog, evading a
direct reply to my enquiry.

Encouraged by the sound of friendly voices, the
younger wife, a pretty Indian girl, peeps through her
lashes, while the elder wife stares boldly up into your
face, and begs. Both women have a strange resem
blance to the nomads seen about a Tartar steppe ;
just as their sisters on Tule Eiver bear a strange re
semblance to the Chinese females in San Francisco.
But these savage damsels bring their owner a lower
price than their sisters from Hong Kong. Two
hundred dollars are supposed to be the value of a
comely Chinese girl. This Pai-Ute bought his squaw
for twenty dollars. Her friends, it seems, were out
of luck; the snow is getting deep; elk and
antelope are scarce ; and they have sold her to a

176 WHITE CONQUEST.

stranger, as they might have sold him a pony or a
dog. The money paid for her will be spent in drink.
By law, no whisky can be sold to Indians ; but up in
these snow-deserts, where is the magistrate to
enforce the law ?

6 Are you taking her home to your own country ? '

' Ugh ! ' he hisses through his teeth, c the Pai-Utes
of our family have no country left. The Whites
have taken all our lands and springs. Some Pai-
Utes have lands ; not many. One day the Great
Father will give us back our lands.'

' How do you live ? '

4 We wait and go about ; kill game — not much ;
sow seed — not much. Pai-Utes very poor. One more

cigar ?

' Tell me, Eed Dog, about your two squaws. If
you are very poor, why have you bought another
wife ? '

4 To work for me. No squaw, much work;
plenty squaw, no work. I get more dollar, buy
more squaw.'

' You make them work for you ? '

The rascal grins, and clutches at his brand.
Poor creatures, he will make them grind and toil ;

BUCKS AND SQUAWS. 177

perhaps lend them out as road-menders, possibly
drive them to the Humboldt Eiver camps. Among
the Mission Indians, who are broken more or less to
gentle ways, a buck may beat his squaw, in passion,
but he seldom forces her to work. His women, as
a rule, are willing slaves, eager to sweat for their
ungrateful lord; but if they leave the roots
undug, the patch of corn unsown, he only laughs
and yawns. He would have done the same, and
therefore thinks the negligence a venial sin. An
Indian of these mountains snarls at such a buck
with scorn, saying, 6 he is not brave enough to
thrash his squaws ! '

Compared with Apaches, Kickapoos, and
Kiowas, the Utes are but a sorry lot — root diggers,
rat catchers ; yet the sorriest Ute alive — a dog not
brave enough to scalp a sleeping foe, or to avenge a
blood feud — is brave enough to kick and club a girl.
Yet he prefers to set his women at each other,
trusting that their jealousies will make them tear
and scratch enough to save him trouble in his lodge.

'Why have you brought the old squaw with
you ? ' we enquire of the Pai-Ute bridegroom.

4 Ugh ! ' he grunts, ' to break the little one. All

VOL. I. N

J78 WHITE CONQUEST.

girls are wild. You pinch, and slap them for a
month or more. When they are taken from the
lodge, they mope and cry; you beat them till
they stop, then they are good. When you fetch
a young squaw, old one likes to come. She
makes the young one stumble on stones, and sleep
with two eyes open. That ties her tongue.'

Eed Dog is not worse than others of his pagan
tribe. To him a squaw is nothing but a drudge and
beast. He keeps her like a cow, and treats her like
a dog. He buys her, sells her, as he likes. Nobody
interferes. American law knows nothing of a Eed
man's lodge. If Eed Dog were to beat his bride,
while all these White men were about, he would be
lynched. But if he kills her in the night, when no
White men are near, no sheriff will pursue him for
the crime.

While she remains a member of her tribe, a
woman has some natural defender, in her father,
in her brother, in her son. When drafted into
another tribe, her only hope is in the favour
and compassion of her lord. In other days such
sales of women into other tribes were rare, but as
the tribes fall off in numbers, the women pass more

, BUCKS AND SQUAWS. 179

frequently from lodge to lodge. Eed Dogs, with
money in their belts, are now scouring the land in
search of squaws.

6 Have you not girls enough in your own camp,
without coming up to Winnemucca when you
want a wife ? '

' No ; not enough. White men have taken
nearly all our squaws.'

It is a fact ; for them, a sad and bitter fact.
Some Indian tribelets are so poor in squaws, that
many of the hunters have no partners ; and the
chiefs and medicine men can hardly stock their
tents. This is the case on every frontier where the
Eed men live in contact with the White. A Hybrid
steals, a Pale-face buys. Once she has passed into a
stranger's ranch, the Indian girl is lost to her
tribe for ever.

An Indian convert knows that selling girls is not
the White man's custom, but no pagan Indian ever
heard a voice against this ancient rule and habit of
his tribe. When he obtained his squaw, he paid
her price. His mother was bought, her mother
bought. A girl, he says, is worth so many skins, so
many dollars. If he loses her, he loses so much

3T 2

i8o WHITE CONQUEST.

wealth. She helps to dig his roots, to groom his
horse, to bear his tent ; and if the hunter is to sell
his child, why may he not accept a White man's
gold as quickly as a Eed man's skins ? The White
man, he perceives, is strong. Once she is taken to
the settler's ranch, his child will be better off than
she would be in the biggest Indian wigwam. If
he asks the girl, he will be told that she prefers
to be a White man's squaw.

A train rolls in, and Eed Dog kicks his wives,
who shake their rags, and huddle to their feet.
The railway company allows the Utes and Shoshones
in these high wastes to fancy that the road is built
for them, and lies under their protecting power. All
Utes and Shoshones ride on the trains without pay
ment, on the easy condition that they squat outside
the carriage door. A winter night is coming on.
At six o'clock the cold is thirty-seven degrees below
freezing, and the wind is rising to a gale. These
women have to squat all night, clinging in their
sleep to rail and chain. Poor little bride ! Beyond
the cuffs and kisses of her savage purchaser, she will
have to bear the vials of a rival being emptied on
her head. To-morrow, when she quits the train,

BUCKS AND SQUAWS. 181

she will commence a march of ninety or a hundred
miles, through drift and ice, and when she joins
her husband's band, she will assume the duties of
a slave. When Eed Dog grows tired of her, he will
sell her to some other Dog.

1 82 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XIX.

BED MORMONISM.

FROM Winnemucca, an Indian camp in Nevada, to
Brigham, a prosperous Mormon town in Salt Lake
Valley, we race and wriggle through a mountain
district, not more striking in physical aspect than
in human interest. Eolling on the level of Ben
Nevis, with a score of snowy peaks in front and
flank, we climb through woods of stunted pine,
ascending by the Pallisades to Pequop, at the height
of Mont d'Or, from which we slide by way of
Humboldt Wells and the American Desert direct to
Brigham in the land of Zion. Ten years ago, this
line of country, four hundred miles by road, be
longed to independent tribes of Utes and Shoshones,
whose pagan ancestors had hunted buffalo, made
peace and war, and carried on vendetta, from the
frozen sierras to the neighbourhood of Snake Eiver

RED MORMONISM. 183

and Shoshone Falls. To-day these tribes have not
a single acre of their ancient hunting grounds.

Many of these Indians are Ked Mormons. Every
Indian tribe, among whose tents the Mormon
preachers have come, are more or less inclined to
favour them, but many of these Utes and Shoshones
have been actually baptized into the Mormon
Church. Eed bishops have been consecrated for
the government of these mountain tribes.

Nine years ago, while staying in Salt Lake City,
studying the system introduced among men of Euro
pean stock by Joseph Smith and Brigham Youns;, I
wrote these words :

'What have these saints achieved? In the
midst of a free people, they have founded a despotic
power. In a land which repudiates State religions,
they have placed their Church above human laws.
Among a society of Anglo-Saxons they have intro
duced some of the ideas, many of the practices of
Utes, Shoshones, or Snakes.'

A wider view of Indian life confirms my first
belief that ' some of the ideas ' and ' many of the
practices,' found among the Mormons living at Salt
Lake city, are a growth of the soil, older than the

1 84 WHITE CONQUEST.

advent of Brigliam Young, older than the revela
tion of Joseph Smith.

Apart from the devotional spirit, the sense of
order, and the love of work, which are the virtues
of New England and of Old England, never yet
divorced from men of Anglo-Saxon breed, the
Mormons seem to have derived their chief ideas,
and adopted their chief practices from the Indian
lodge. Glance, for a moment, at the main ideas on
which Eed men differ from White — from all White
men except Latter-day Saints.

1. Eed men have a physical god, who can
be seen and heard, not only in the cloud and wind,
but with the form and voice of man.

2. They have a class of seers and chiefs, en
dowed with a supernal faculty of seeing this god, of
listening to his counsels, and of learning his will.

3. When they meet in counsel, every Eed man
is supposed to be possessed by the Great Spirit,
and divinely guided in his choice of seer and chief.

4. A chief thus chosen by the common inspira
tion of his people, rules them in the name of heaven,
by a divine and patriarchal right, and exercises his
authority on body and on soul alike.

RED MORMONISM. 185

5. They exist in orders, divine in origin, which
keep them in one nation, and divide them from the
outer world by barriers never to be passed excepting
through adoption by the tribe.

6. The land, and everything on the land, be
long to the Great Spirit, and to the tribe as his
children, and the titles vest in the big chief as trustee
of the Great Spirit and his tribe. No private
member of the tribe has any power to hold and
own the land, and what is on the land.

7. An injury to any member of the nation is
regarded by the Eed man an injury to all, so that this
wrong must be atoned before the tribe can rest — a
blood atonement being required of the offending
tribe.

All these ideas, strange to White men, hardly
known in London and Berlin, Paris and New York,
have been adopted by the Saints, not only by
Brigham Young and Daniel Wells, illiterate presi
dents of the Church, but by their learned bishops,
compeers, and defenders, Delegate George Q.
Cannon, and Professor Orson Pratt.

In the camp of Eed Cloud, a chief of the Teton
Sioux, you hear the same talk of divine help, and

1 86 WHITE CONQUEST.

of standing face to face with God, as you hear in the
Lion House and Tabernacle at Salt Lake. ' I will
consult the Great Spirit,' says Bed Cloud, when the
Indian Commissioners press a point. In speaking
to the Whites, Bed Cloud never drops this tone of
priest and seer. c Whatever the Great Spirit tells me
to do, that I will do.'

Bed Cloud can hardly count the lodges of his
tribe. Six years ago he owned the plains and
mountains from the Upper Missouri Biver to the
Setting Sun. White men came into his hunting-
grounds ; trappers, dealers, herdsmen, whom he
received with kindness and supplied with squaws.
Bed Cloud was glad to see men come into his
country who could show his young hunters how to
work ! But he reserved his princely rights. When
White men came to make a road, they wanted
soldiers to protect their plant ; but Bed Cloud
would not have these armed hands about his lodges.
' No,' he answered the Commissioner, in the tone of
a prophet ; ' you shall not send a soldier across the
North Platte.' Conferences were held, and Bed
Cloud went to Washington and New York. A pact
was signed by him, giving the White men certain

RED MORMONISM. 187

rights ; but many of his tribe were vexed by his
concessions, and asserted that their chief had been
made drunk. A new palaver was arranged at
Laramie, when Eed Cloud stood on his ancient right,
not only as a prince, but priest and seer. Commis
sioner Brandt asked him to receive a White agent in his
country. He refused. ' I have consulted the Great
Spirit, and do not want a strange man for agent.'

When pressed to yield the right of garrisoning
his hunting-grounds, he rose and spoke :

c I am Eed Cloud. The Great Spirit made the
Eed man and the White. I think he made the Eed
man first. He raised me in this land, and it is
mine. He raised the White men beyond the sea ;
their land is over there. Since they crossed the sea,
I have given them room, and there are pale faces all
about me. I have but a small spot of land left.
The Great Spirit tells me to keep it.'

Brigham Young might use these words. The
Lord has given Salt Lake Valley to Brigham and the
Saints, just as the Great Spirit has given Nebraska
to Eed Cloud and the Sioux. The Lord has told
Brigham to keep that valley, and Brigham will hold
it so long as the Lord gives him strength to keep the

1 88 WHITE CONQUEST.

Gentiles out. ' Whatever I do,' says Eed Cloud, in
the tone so often heard at Salt Lake City,^' my
people will do the same.' Whether asking or re
fusing, Eed Cloud is but carrying out the wishes of
his people and the will of God.

Brigham Young has done something to appease
the feuds between Utes and Shoshones ; but, as
some persons allege, he has done so only to turn
their wrath against the Whites. Not far from the
station called Pai-Ute, a fight took place between
some emigrants and natives, which gives the name
of Battle Mountain to a ridge with many mounds
and spires ; and here, as at Mountain Meadow, and
in other places, the Mormons are suspected of
inspiring, if not conducting the attack. The emi
grants were driving stock. Stronger in numbers and
in knowledge of the country, the Indians dashed
into their corral, overpowered their watch, and drove
away their herds. At dawn, the emigrants rallied,
armed in haste, and sought the trail. At noon they
caught the raiders in a glen, fell on them front and
flank, broke, drove, and scattered them from
rock to cave. The Indians fought like wolves
at bay ; but numbers and courage were of no

RED MORMONISM. 189

avail against White strength and discipline. Shot,
brained, cut down, they fell on every rock, round
every tree. Nothing less than their destruction
could appease the White man's rage. The sun went
down on a victorious field ; a hundred braves lying
dead, and all the stolen stock brought back to camp.
Nobody ever learned the Indian loss that day.
Indians use much care in carrying off their dead, in
order to reduce the enemy's tale of scalps ; but in
the following summer, emigrants found the bones of
many warriors who had evidently been sped by White
men's bullets to the land of souls. That skirmish
cleared the track, and helped to break the Shoshonc
power.

Smitten by this sudden loss, the tribe reeled to
and fro, unable to decide on any course. One
party was opposed to fighting any more ; a second
party was for instant war. They fought eacli
other, and while they were fighting in their camps,
the White man built his ranch and made his road.
Prom time to time a ranch is robbed, a woman stolen,
a settler scalped ; but in an Indian country no one
makes a fuss for trifles, and the desolated ranch gets
tenanted again. A bolder crime provokes a chase,

190 WHITE CONQUEST.

and when the White man mounts, his chase is eager
and his vengeance black.

We pass a homestead which has lately been the

scene of one of these mountain episodes. A daring

fellow brought his wife and two daughters up to the

great plateau, where by thrift and labour he was

making for them a prosperous home. The girls were

pretty, and the wifeless miners and shepherds thought

them angels. A band of Shoshones scalped the whole

family. If the White man's tale is true, these savages

not only outraged the women, but slit their noses,

broke their joints, and gouged their eyes. If so,

the warriors were attended by their dusky wives ;

such acts of torture being reserved by Indians as a

luxury for their squaws, who snatch a fearful

pleasure, in their bondage, from the sight of a

White woman's shame and death.

Before the Whites could rally in pursuit, the
Shoshones made off, retiring to the trackless wastes
where White men's feet have never trod. The trail
was lost, the chase seemed vain ; but frontier men are
not* easily turned aside, and female blood was crying
from*' the earth for vengeance ! A Pai-Ute scout

RED MORMONISM. 191

came in, who offered to find the trail, arid guide
them to the Shoshone camp. At once they
marched ; armed, braced, and eager for their work.
They caught the trail ; they reached the camp ;
but only to find the braves and warriors flown,
the squaws and children left. The White men
sulked and swore ; their prey was gone, their ven
geance baffled. To pursue the flying bands seemed
useless ; for a Eedskin, riding for his life, with no
thing but his arms to carry, must leave a Pale-face
with his stores and tents behind. A council was
convened. What could they do?

'Do?' exclaimed the Pai-Ute scout, 'why, fire
on the squaws.'

Fire on the squaws ! To hurt a woman is
revolting to a White man's sense of honour. Fire on
the squaws !

' What is the use in firing on a lot of squaws ? '
asked one of the number.

' Ugh ! ' sneered the scout, with Indian scorn for
what he calls this Pale-face craze about the value of
a woman's life ; ' you fire into the camp ; you shoot a
score of squaws and papooses ; then you see the braves

192 WHITE CONQUEST.

and warriors come to their defence. They are not
far away.'

A volley was discharged into the Indian camp.
A wild and piercing yell rose up from wounded
squaws and children. Soon the paint and feathers
showed themselves among stones and trees. Each
Indian rushed to the defence of his own lodge, and
now the Whites poured in among them, and the hug
of hate began. Arms, drill, and science fought for
the Whites, and when the firing slackened, a rush
was made with knife and bayonet. The camp was
carried, and every man, woman, and child still left
was sought and killed.

On crossing Bear Eiver, we arrive at Brigham, a
city of adobe houses, nestling in the midst of fruit
trees. Here we find a body of Eed Mormons, led by
a Eed bishop, on their road to Zion. Finding no
comfort in their Gentile neighbours, the Horse
Indians arc turning more and more towards their
pale-faced brethren of the Mormon church.

193

CHAPTEE XX.

WHITE INDIANS.

BEFORE the Mormons came into these mountains,
they were known as friends of the Eed men, and
were called in mockery the White Indians. They
professed to have solved the mystery, so puzzling to
linguists and ethnologists, of the origin of the
Indian tribes. On evidence supplied to them by
angels, they asserted that the Eed men are sons of
Laman, remnants of the lost tribes of Israel, and
objects of God's pecular care. Giving the Indians a
great place in history, the Mormons stamped them
as a people who will rise again and make a glorious
figure in the world. They professed to have copies
of ancient Indian books. A history of these In
dians was their holy scripture, and they preached
a religion racy of the Indian soil, in which
Eedskin chiefs and prophets were to play a part.

Missions had been sent out to these lost tribes

VOL. i. o

194 WHITE CONQUEST.

and families ; missions of the First Witness and of
the First Apostle. A revelation had been published,
announcing that Zion would be built in the land of
the Lamanites. To seal this family compact
with the Indians, another revelation declared
that in the great day of the Lord, the Laman
ites were to blossom as the rose, Zion to flourish
on the hills, and both the ancient tribes and
the modern saints were to assemble in an
'appointed place.' What marvel, then, that ever
since the Mormons crossed into Big Elk's country,
they have been received as friends, that the Potta-
wattamies gave them the free use of their soil, that
the Sioux allowed them to pass the Platte Eiver, that
the Shoshones let them cut down timber, that the
Utes assisted them to bring water from the moun
tain creeks ?

For good arid ill, the hunters and the saints live
as neighbours and brethren ; leaning on each other
for support against a common foe. Utes and Sho
shones have been baptised. Others are content
with living on Mormon principles. Not a few
Mormon missionaries have taken squaws into their
tents. In certain deeds of violence, such as the

WHITE INDIANS. 195

Mountain Meadow massacre, and the alleged
murders by Eockwell and his Danite band, the Eed
and White Indians have been very closely mixed.
Four or five commissions have sat on the Mountain
Meadow massacre, yet no one can say whether
Kanosh, the Ute chief, or Colonel Dame, the Mormon
bishop, was the man most to blame. All witnesses
in the case describe the slayers as ' Indians,' or as
' painted like Indians,' or as ' dressed like Indians.'
Kanosh was a Mormon elder ; and there is some
thing of the Ute in Colonel Dame.

Nine years ago I wrote of these saints :
' Hints for their system of government may have
been found nearer home than Hauran, in less
respectable quarters than the Bible ; the Shoshone
wigwam could have supplied the Saints with a
nearer model of a plural household than the
patriarch's tent. . . . The saints go much be
yond Abram ; and I for one am inclined to think
that they have found their type of domestic life in
the Indian wigwam rather than in the patriarch's
tent. Like the Ute, a Mormon may have as many
wives as he can feed, like the Mandan he may marry

o 2

196 WHITE CONQUEST.

three or four sisters, an aunt and her niece, a mother
and her child.'

Big Elk and Pied Eiche saw in Brigham Young,
what Bed Cloud and Black Hawk still see — a White
brother, whose big chief and medicine man, Joseph
Smith, was shot in Illinois for asserting that the
Eed-skins are of sacred race, no less than for
preaching the Eed doctrines of common property and
plurality of wives. Brigham Young, on the other
side, regards the Eed-skins, like his leader Joseph
Smith, as a peculiar people, chosen though chas
tised, and holding in their custody, not knowing
what they hold, ancient and celestial traditions.
Some of these old and sacred traditions existed
among the Indians of Vermont and New York, in
which countries Joseph Smith resided in his youth,
as well as in the prairies of Illinois, where his system
put on its final shape. These Indians held their
lands in common, kept as many squaws as they could
house, and sought for blood atonements in their
feuds. Smith tried to introduce these principles of
the ' sacred race,' as well as to diffuse a knowledge of
their personal god, their government by seers, their
cure of maladies by spells and charms. He failed

WHITE INDIANS. 197

on the domestic side. Even in his house, a Gentile
feeling burned against the introduction of second
wives ; and sisters who pretend to have been the
sealed spouses of Joseph, own that they had to
undergo the rite in secret, and accept their wifehood
in a mystic sense. But when the saints arrived in
Utah, where, surrounded by the Indian wigwams,
they were free to carry out their principles, they
proclaimed the Indian doctrine of plurality of wives.
Were they not gathered into Zion ? Were not the
sons of Laman living in the Valley, each with
his two or three squaws, according to the ancient
and celestial rule ?

' That day,' I wrote in New America, ' the Eed
men and the White men made with each other an
unwritten covenant, for the Shoshone had at length
found a brother in the Pale-face, and the Pawnee saw
the morals of his wigwam carried into the Saxon's
ranch.'

Ute incest came to the Saints with Ute polygamy.
An Indian likes to buy two or three sisters, finding
they work well and hold their tongues, where
strangers to each other might shirk their tasks and
wrangle in his tent. A Mormon does the same. A

198 WHITE CONQUEST.

man who dares to marry three or four wives, is not
likely to feel scruples about affinities of blood.
Sealing to sisters soon became a habit of the Saints,
not introduced by revelation like celestial marriage,
but adopted here and there by mere contagion from
the Indian lodges, till the cases grew in number and
the facts became a law. To legalise this system of
plurality and incest strains the utmost power of
Brigham Young.

' Are plural families increasing in your Church ? '
I ask Apostle Taylor, as we wander in and out among
the Temple shafts and passages, noting how slow and
solid is the growth of that edifice which is to be
completed, in the strength of prophecy, when the
Lamanites shall have come to blossom as a rose !
' Increasing surely, though not fast.'
My evidence of eye and ear is out of harmony
with that of the Apostle. Things are changed in
Zion ; changed in many ways, from dress and manner
upwards into modes of thought. In other times, the
Church was all in all. Brigham was king and pope ;
the Twelve were princes of the blood. A bishop was
a peer. Not to be an elder was to live outside the
court. A Gentile was of less account in Main Street

WHITE INDIANS. 199

than a Sioux or Snake, who kept, although in dark
ness, some traditions of a sacred code.

A railway train has done it all.

The change in Zion, since the railway opened,
is like that from Santa Clara under the Franciscan
friars to that of Denver under Bob Wilson and the
young Norse gods. Much evil pours into the town,
as well as good ; the sharper and his female partner
coming with the teacher and divine ; the people who
open hells and grogshops treading on the heels of
those who open colleges and schools. Everyone is
free to come. As yet, the Saints retain possession
of the real estate ; no less than seven-eighths of the
city, nineteen-twentieths of the territory, says Daniel
Wells, mayor of the city, still belonging to the
Saints. Yet every one must see that a Gentile
feeling, hostile to the Mormon theory of domestic
life, begins to reign in store and street, in mart and
bank. A Gentile banker may not seem so great a
personage as a Mormon bishop, yet this bishop's
daughters cannot be prevented from turning their
eyes in female envy on that banker's wife. The
Gentile lady is more richly dight than any other
woman at Salt Lake. The Mormon ladies wish to

200 WHITE CONQUEST.

dress like her. Eiches are entering into strife with
grace, and fashion is pushing sanctity to the wall.

In other days plurality was a rage. You
heard of nothing else. Ladies affected to be smitten
by the spell, and boasted of bringing in new Hagars
to their lords. To have a plural household was a
sign of perfect faith and walking in the highest light.
To be a member of the Church, and yet refrain from
sealing wife on wife, was a discredit to the priest
hood ; and an elder so remiss in duty was unable
to get on. That rage in favour of plurality is past.
Some leaders have renounced the practice, others

have denounced the dogma, of polygamy. Elder

i

Jennings is living with a single wife ; Stenhouse,
Elder no longer, is living with a single wife.

' Why should not plural families increase ? ' asks
Taylor, in a tone which begs the whole question of
fact and theory, ' this increase is the wiH of heaven.
We have to live our faith out openly before the world,
and all good Saints are striving to obey the will of
God.'

' Yet, Elder, I observe that some of my old
acquaintance seem falling into Gentile ways. There's
Jennings. When I first knew him he had two

WHITE INDIANS. 201

wives, and people told me lie was likely to seal two
more at least. I find him living with, a single wife.
One lady is dead, but lie lias not taken a sister
into her place.'

We supped last night with Elder Jennings at
his new villa, where we saw his wife and daughters.
Being a wealthy man, Jennings has been urged to
seal a third and fourth sister to himself, according
to the will of heaven ; but he has held aloof from
' counsel ' in this matter, and in face of bishops and
pontiffs, anxious for his good, he steadily refuses to
add wife on wife. A man of business, dealing with
men of every class and creed, Jennings has been
carried into something like silent opposition to his
Church. He will not bring, he says, another woman
to his house. His living partner seems to me the
happiest Mormon woman in the town.

'Well, in the city, you may note such cases,'
says the Apostle, putting my case aside, with what
appears to me a weary shrug. ' A Gentile influence
has been creeping in, no doubt ; and business people
are the first to see things in a worldly light ; but
on the country farms and in the lonely sheep-runs
you will find a pastoral people, eager to fulfil the

202 WHITE CONQUEST.

law as it is given to us, and to enjoy the blessings
offered by God to his obedient Saints.'

Taylor is no doubt right. The system of White
polygamy, which droops and fades in presence of
the Gentiles, springs and spreads in presence of the
Snakes and Utes — a fact of facts : the full signifi
cance of which is hardly seen by Taylor and his
brother Saints.

No sooner was the railway built, the valley
opened, and the stranger admitted, than a change
of view set in. Some elders, including Godbe,
Walker, Harrison, and Lawrence, began a new
movement, favouring liberty of trade and leading up
towards liberty of thought. They tried to bring
in science, and to found a critical magazine.
Stenhouse was of their party, though he had not yet
seceded from his Church. Belief in polygamy as a
divine institution was the first thing to go down. On
turning to the original seer, these critics found good
reason to conclude that plurality was one of the
additions made by 'Brigham Young to the gospel
taught by Joseph Smith. Smith had only one
wife. That lady, still alive, asserts that neither in
public nor in private was the prophet ever sealed or

WHITE INDIANS. 203

given to any other woman than herself. The
prophet's sons denounce the doctrine of polygamy
as the spawn of hell. These were no pleasant things
for Godbe to discern. This elder, a chemist, lived
in a fine house, with three wives, and had a garden
full of boys and girls. How, under his new lights,
was he to deal with his domestic facts ? The women
were his wives, the children were his flesh and
blood. The past was past, for good and evil. But
the future ? If polygamy were not divine, he must
not seal another wife so long as any of the three
women in his household were left alive. The same
conclusion has been forced on many others.

' Do you wish me to infer,' I ask Apostle
Taylor, ' that the rich and educated Mormons are
giving up polygamy, and that the poor and ignorant
brethren are taking to it ? '

' No,' he answers me with meek reproof, ' we
should not like to put the matter so. Some worldly
men are weary of obedience to the law ; while
others, pure in heart and true in faith, are ready to
assume their cross.'

204

WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XXI.

POLYGAMY.

IN Salt Lake Valley, as in Los Angeles, San Jose,
and other places, the Eed aberrations of White people
are in process of correction. White polygamy is
perishing in Utah, like Eed polygamy, of which it is
a bastard offspring, not by force or violence, but by
the operation of natural laws. It dies of contact
with the higher fashions of domestic life.

' I gather, not from what you tell me only, but
from every word I hear, and every man I see, that
there is change of practice, if not change of doc
trine,' I remark to President Wells and Apostle
Taylor.

' That is your impression ? ' asks the Apostle.

'Yes, my strong impression; I might say my
strong conviction. Pardon me for saying that the
point is very serious. If you mean to dwell in the
United States, you must abate the practice, even if

POLYGAMY. 205

you retain the principle, of plural wives. Nature,
Law, and Accident are all against your theories of
domestic life. Nature puts the male and female on
the earth in pairs; and thereby sets her face
against your theories. The Law of every Christian
State declares that one man shall marry one woman,
and no more. Accidents, which have left a surplus
of females in Europe, have brought a surplus of males
to America. In England, where in every thousand
persons, five hundred and fourteen are females, four
hundred and eighty-six males, you might pretend to
find a physical basis for your theory. But in these
States and territories, out of every thousand per
sons, five hundred and five are males, four hundred
and ninety-five females. There are not enough
women for every man to have one wife. Even in
Utah you have fifteen hundred more men than
women. In the face of such facts, your " celestial
law " of polygamy will be hard to carry out. Man
will find his mate, or die for her.'

Gentiles have a right to use all moral arms
against plurality and priestcraft in the person of
Brigham Young. Young is the enemy of our
household science, our ethical system, our religious

206 WHITE CONQUEST.

faith ; but men who love justice and liberty, even
more than they hate priestcraft and plurality, will
fight him with fact and truth, not shot and shell.
A good cause need not ask for special laws and a
fanatical judge. The causes which induce polygamy
in the Western States are failing, but the end will not
be hastened by an exercise of cruel and unreasoning
zeal.

Brigham Young, the chief reviver of this Indian
legend, is seventy-four years old. His strength is
spent. Finding the air of Salt Lake Valley too keen
for his enfeebled lungs, he passes his winters at St.
George, a village on the frontier of Arizona ; living
with two favourite nurses, Sister Amelia and Sister
Lucy, and leaving his temple and his tabernacle very
much to the care of George A. Smith and Daniel
Wells, his second and third presidents, the Lion
House and Bee-hive to the charge of Eliza Snow,
his poetess laureate and proxy wife. Jesters speak
of him as lying sick ; only just well enough to
sit up in bed and be married now and then.
But Brigham is not likely to renew his search
for wives. The biggest Indian chief is happy in
a dozen squaws, and Brigham, though deserted by

POLYGAMY. 207

his youngest wife, still owns eighteen obedient slaves.
Poor man, his last adventure in the way of court
ship turned out badly ; for his nineteenth bride,
Ann Eliza, a young and handsome hussy, after
trying him for a year, has left his house, re
nounced her creed, and under Gentile counsel, has
brought an action for divorce. She wanted more of
his society and of his money. Finding her charms
neglected, Ann Eliza sold his furniture, fled to New
York, and opened a course of lectures on the
secrets of his harem. She knew his ways, and made
the Gentiles merry at his expense.

Such incidents cry out to Brigham Young that,
though he holds the keys, and claims all power to
bind and loose, he can no longer rule a woman's
heart or check the licence of a woman's tongue.
This cross is hard to bear. With Lucy by his side,
he might forget the lost bride, but female smiles can
hardly reconcile the pontiff to his loss of power.
One flight from a prophet's household breaks the
charm. c My wife on earth, my queen in heaven,'
sighs Brigham Young. ' An old fellow,' snaps the
lady, dropping her jargon of celestial laws and
everlasting covenants, ' he is forty-five years older

208 WHITE CONQUEST.

than myself, and lie has eighteen other wives to
please.' Her intercourse with Gentiles has dispelled
the mystic halo which surrounds a prophet's tent.
His harem is profaned, the mystery and sanctity of
his life are gone.

Other, and more serious losses, have fallen on
the polygamous saints. Stenhouse, Godbe, Law
rence, Walker, Harrison, all the most liberal,
prosperous, and enlightened members of their
church, have either seceded or been expelled.

Stenhouse has not only fallen from the ranks,
but with his first wife, Sister Fanny, has taken
service in the Gentile camp.

When I was last in Zion, the Stenhouses, man
and wife, were strict upholders of polygamy. The
Elder had two wives living, Sister Fanny and Sister
Belinda ; besides his dead queen, Sister Carrie, who
had been sealed to him for 'the eternal worlds.'
Fanny was of English birth, a clever, handsome
woman, who had given Belinda to her husband for
his second wife. Belinda came of saintly race, being
a daughter of Parley Pratt, the first apostle, called
the Archer of Paradise, and of Belinda Pratt, the
foremost female advocate of polygamy. She was an

POLYGAMY. 209

orphan when the Elder took her ; Pratt, her father,
having been killed in Arkansas by Hector M'Lean,
a gentleman whose wife the Mormon apostle had
converted and carried off. Not satisfied with these
young and comply women, Stenhouse was looking
for another wife ; and Sister Fanny tried her best to
make me think he was doing right in following the
' celestial ' law. To-day she puts into my hands a
volume written by her pen, in which plurality of
wives is pictured from a Gentile point of view.

The fall of these conspicuous advocates of plu
rality is due to the friction caused by that celestial law.

Clara, one of Sister Fanny's daughters, is the
favourite wife of Joseph A. Young, the prophet's
eldest son. The Stenhouses were, therefore, very
near the throne. To get still nearer, Elder Stenhouse
proposed to Zina, one of the prophet's daughters.
The position of this girl was passing strange. By
birth she was a child of Brigham Young, by grace a
child of Joseph Smith. Her mother, Zina Hunting
don, is one of four ' holy women,' who pretend to
have been the secret wives of Joseph Smith, and as
the prophet's widows live in proxy wife-hood with
Brigham Young. Brigham has done his part, but

VOL. i. p

210 WHITE CONQUEST.

Zina Huntingdon is not regarded as his wife and
queen. Joseph will claim her in the world to conie,
and Zina, the younger, will be gathered to her
mother's kingdom. A lovely and a clever woman,
Zina is a favourite with her father, who loves her
none the less because his * celestial law ' prevents
him from counting her as his child.

Before he spoke to Young, Stenhouse believed that
he had won his prize. Zina was an actress, Sten
house a dramatic critic, with a popular journal in
his hands. More pretty things, according to
Sister Fanny, were said of her than any artist in
the world deserves. Zina was happy in this praise.
Young raised no obstacles to the match, but he
insisted that the mother and her child should not be
separated after Zina's marriage. They had always
lived together, and they could not be induced to live
apart.

' You must take them both/ said Young.

' Brigham wants to get rid of the old lady,'
jeered Sister Fanny, growing cynical.

4 She forms no part of his kingdom, you know,'
urged Stenhouse, in reply to his wife's jests and
jeers. On Zina insisting that her mother should re-

POLYGAMY. 2II

main beneath her roof, the Elder undertook that
Joseph's widow should reside with them in his ' third
house.'

But things were not so happily arranged. Sten-
house was slack, and Zina flirted off. Business was
bad. Godbe and Walker had commenced the new
movement, and the prophet wanted Stenhouse to
abuse these enemies of his church. But Stenhouse
was dependent on his advertisers, the great and small
traders of the city, nearly all of whom were in the
movement. He was silent, and his silence was re
garded as a crime. Zina refused to see him, and
her pouts were very properly supposed to represent
her father's mood. Sister Fanny went to Brigham
Young, and begged him to let the marriage of her
husband and the prophet's daughter take place.

' Well,' said Young, ' if Zina has changed her
mind, I have plenty of other girls. Let him take
one of them ; if one won't have him, another will.'

Stenhouse suspected Brigham of opposing him.
He shewed his teeth, and Brigham smote him in
his paper, which began to fall in circulation.
Losses ensued and bitterness increased. Sister
Belinda, seeing that her husband was falling out of

p 2

212 WHITE CONQUEST.

favour, applied to Young for a divorce. Stenhouse
consented, and the deed was signed.

A new paper was commenced by the authorities,
as an official organ of the Church. Then Stenhouse
]eft — his wife going out into apostacy with him.

' He wanted to have Zina,' says Captain Hooper,
4 but the young lady gave him the mitten, and as
Brother Brigham would not force his child to marry,
Stenhouse has left us in a rage.'

Sister Belinda carried her three children by
Elder Stenhouse into another man's harem. Un
happy with her second mate, she got a new divorce.
One of her children died. She is now sealed for
the third time, to a rich Mormon elder, and the
two children of Stenhouse live in her new home.

' She has tried all round,' says the divorced hus
band, ' I hope she will now rest/

' Is not your daughter Clara living with Joseph
Young?'

' Yes, yes,' says Mrs. Stenhouse, sadly, ' she is
with him, in the South of Utah, living in polygamy.
We cannot get the child to see her way. Her hus
band dotes on her. If he were only a bad man,
there would be some hope for us. He might

POLYGAMY. 213

abuse her and desert her ; then she could come out
of them, and be with us again.'

Such wrecks come after storms. The tempest is
not over yet ; but there are signs of lull and
clearance in the sky. If things are left alone,
the end may soon be reached. Polygamy belongs
to a state of society in which females do the chief
work. When women cease to find their own food,
light their own fires, and make their own clothes,
not many fellows care to have five or six wives.

' The thing that touches our plural system most,'
says a Mormon elder who has recently escaped
from polygamy into freedom, ' is an agent over which
the carpet-baggers have no control. It is Fashion.
Ten years ago, our women were content to dress
like rustics. Since the railway brought us into con
tact with the world, our women see how ladies dress
elsewhere ; they want new bonnets, pine for silk
pelisses and satin robes, and try to outshine each other.
All this finery is costly ; yet a man who loves his
wives can hardly refuse to dress them as they see
other ladies dress. To clothe one woman is as much
as most men in America can afford. In the good old
times, an extra wife cost a man little or nothing. She

214 WHITE CONQUEST.

wore a calico sunshade, which she made herself.
Now she must have a bonnet. A bonnet costs
twenty dollars, and implies a shawl and gown to
match. A bonnet to one wife, with shawl and
gown to match, implies the like to every other
wife.'

This taste for female finery is breaking up the
Mormon harems. Even Jennings shrinks from the
expense of dressing several fine ladies, and Brigham
Young may soon be the only man in Salt Lake City
rich enough to clothe a dozen wives.

No gathering of the Saints to Zion, no assertion
of divine authority, can impede the action of this
enemy of Brigham Young. Women who dress
like squaws may obey like squaws. The sight of a
pink bonnet wins them back into the world, and
arms them with the weapon of their sex.

215

CHAPTEE XXII.

INDIAN SEERS.

RED CLOUD is an example, and no more than an
example, of a Eed Brigham Young. At Green Eiver,
in the territory of Utah, we find the details of a recent
drama, every scene in which would be a parody on
the Mormon pope, if Brigham Young were not him
self a parody on these Indian seers.

In March last year an Indian prophet came into a
camp of wandering Utes near Tierra Amarilla, in
New Mexico, bringing a message to this tribe of Utes
from their Great Spirit. The man was known to be
a Saint ; a Eed dervish and magician, with a great
repute among his people ; a wizard who had passed
through many circles and was privileged to talk with

God.

The Utes were hunters, living in their tents
under Sabeta and Cornea, two big chiefs, and seve
ral smaller chiefs. Their camp was pitched in

216 WHITE CONQUEST.

pleasant places, on a running water, in the midst of
grass, shaded by cedar and cotton-wood. Each tent
was set apart, the cross-poles peering upwards through
the buffalo skins. Each wigwam showed a side of elk
or antelope. The winter chase was done, the summer
ramble yet unfixed. The younger bucks were eager
for a raid : more than the others, Manuel, a restless
member of Cornea's band. Manuel aspired to he a
chief. Already he was known along the Border
as the biggest thief in New Mexico. But he raged
and raved in vain. The hunters needed rest, and were
enjoying the delights of spring. Cornea, Sabeta, and
the other captains, smoked the pipe of peace, while
Manuel and the younger bucks lay sprawling in the
sunshine, watching their squaws at work, and
dallying with their tawny imps. Old squaws were
drying skins and pounding maize ; young squaws were
gathering twigs and lighting fires. The Ute encamp
ment was an image of the pastoral life, as lived by
all these pagan tribes.

' Get up, my children ! ' cried the seer ; ' come
up with me into the land of the Green Eiver — our
ancient hunting-grounds. There you shall see the
Great Spirit face to face. There you shall tread

INDIAN SEERS. 217

on soft grass, and drink from wholesome springs.
There you shall find swift ponies and abundant game.
. Come up with me into the country of Green Paver,
and see the Great Spirit face to face ! '

They listened to his words ; not only Manuel and
the younger bucks, but Cornea, Sabeta, arid other
chiefs. Green Eiver is the chief water in the Ute
territory ; draining the great dip between the Elk
Mountains and the Wahsatch chain. Eegarding that
valley as their ancient home, the bands were not
surprised to hear a call from their Great Spirit to
return. Their fathers had received such mes
sages of grace. The seer was only calling them,
according to their Indian legends, to the happy hunt
ing-fields they had been forced to leave. Cornea
listened to the seer, as to a voice from heaven. His
tribe was moved, and Cornea, acting on a popular
impulse, gave the sign to them to go.

Striking their tents, the Indians packed the jerked
antelope and pounded maize. But they were poor
in ponies, and the journey to Green River was a long
and arduous ride. ' Let us go out and steal,' cried
Manuel and the younger bucks. ' No,' urged the
prophet, ' you must only borrow what you want.'

218 WHITE CONQUEST.

So Manuel and the younger men went out into the
White settlements and ' borrowed ' about thirty horses
and as many cows. Then starting for the promised
land, they drove their stolen herds in front, and
helped themselves to anything else they wanted on
the road.

Vexed by their losses, and caring nothing for the
Great Spirit, the White men gathered in from ranch
and mine, and going into Tierra Amarilla, where
the Indian agent, John S. Armstrong, lived, requested
that officer to recover and restore their stock. An
Indian agent has to answer for his tribe, and Green
River is not only a station on the railway, but the
chief artery of White settlement in the mountains.
Chacen, a half-breed interpreter, was called into
the agency and sent out with an order.

'Follow the trail,' said Armstrong, : and when
you catch the raiders bring them back, together with
the stolen cattle.' Chacen over-rode the tribe. A
mixed blood, high in favour with the Whites, he
seemed a great man to these Utes. At any other
time, they would have listened to his advice and
acted on his warnings, but now, inflamed by holy
zeal, they told him to go back. The Great Spirit

INDIAN SEERS. 219

had called them ; they would bend no longer to the
Whites. Sabeta was as full of fight as Manuel
and the youthful braves. Chacen rode back, and
Armstrong, on receiving his report, sent out for
troops, who soon came rattling into Tierra Amarilla,
under Captain Stevenson. They had not long to wait
for a collision with the ' sacred race.' Aflame with
pride, and promised a great victory over the pale
devils, the Indians turned back on the settlements.
Sabeta pricked into the agency, while Cornea lay in
ambush, three or four miles behind,- unseen by any
of the Whites.

Sabeta meant to take the agency, to scalp the
officers, and to secure the stores. ' To his surprise he
found a troop of horse, and was compelled to parley
where he had prepared to strike.

4 Bring in the stolen stock and yield the thieves
to punishment,' said Captain Stevenson, taking an
imperious tone. Sabeta, not yet ready for the fray,
replied with Indian cunning, that he might be able
to restore the cows and ponies, but he could not
yield the thieves for punishment, as they were gone
into the mountains and were strangers to his band.
Some of the worst thieves, as Armstrong knew,

220 WHITE CONQUEST.

were sitting on their ponies at Sabeta's side, but
night was coming on, and he was anxious not to
have a fight if he could gain his point without shed
ding blood. Sabeta's band far outnumbered Steven
son's troop.

' You must encamp, for the night.'

A place was named, with wood and water, near
the spot where Cornea lay in secret ambush. The
Indians were content, and a squad of cavalry was
told off as escort. Stevenson set out, but when they
neared the camping ground, the Indians broke, ran
out in rings, and yelling to their comrades, whirled
into array of battle. The interpreter argued with
them, but the day for talk was gone. Two braves
laid hold of him and beat him badly, while a
third brave drew a pistol from his belt, and boasted
that the Utes were now going to whip and scalp
the troops.

As soon as Chacen got away, the soldiers
opened fire on the Utes, a signal which uncovered
the Indian ambush, and brought up their own re
serves. The skirmish lasted for an hour, when dark
ness put an end to firing and pursuit. One trooper
fell and two of his companions were unhorsed. The

INDIAN SEERS. 221

Indians suffered more, but they retreated in the night
across the Eio Charma, carrying off their slain.

Beyond the Eio Charma, these flying Indians met
a Mexican herder with his flock. They scalped the
man and stole his stock, which served them for a
time as food ; yet in the country where they sought
a refuge, they were harassed by the Apaches,
and after starving for five or six weeks, and losing
nearly all their cows and ponies, they returned to
Tierra Amarilla in an abject plight and spirit.

Armstrong resolved to separate the bands, and
send them, not to Green Eiver in Utah, but to the
TJte reservations in Colorado. On giving his promise
not to plunder any more, Sabeta was allowed to leave
for Los Pinos ; on a similar pledge, Cornea was
allowed to leave for Pagota Springs. In future these
Ute bands would have to dwell apart, divorced from
each other, for the offence of listening to an Indian
seer, and acting on a call from heaven.

Their numbers thinned, their wealth reduced,
their pride subdued, the bands set out. The faces of
their chiefs were dark. No one save Manuel talked
of moving from the track laid down for them to keep.
The braves hung down their heads like squaws.

222 WHITE CONQUEST.

When Manuel offered to lead a band of young
bucks in search of prey, Cornea stopped his tongue,
for Manuel, more than any other of the braves, had
brought them into grief and shame. Nor would
the younger men go out. In savage wrath the
untameable robber swore that he would go alone.

Manuel had a cousin in the band, who was his
nearest chum. He had two ponies also, and he
hoped his chum, a matchless rider, would join
him ; but on hearing his proposals for a new raid,
the young man turned away his face. It was not
for himself he feared, but for the squaws and
little ones of his band. Cornea's pledge was given.
If any members of his band were found at large,
Cornea would be blamed; if they were caught
with scalps and stolen stock, the chief would have
to answer for their crimes.

When Manuel was ready to depart, his cousin and
some other braves crept noiselessly to his tent, with
rifles in their clutch, and finding his two ponies
hitched to a tree, fired into them. The ponies both
fell dead. Manuel ran out. His comrades sprang to
their feet. With cold and haughty gesture, he ex
claimed :

INDIAN SEERS. 223

' You have shot my ponies, you may now shoot
me.'

Without a word, his cousin drew a pistol, faced
the intending raider, and shot him through the heart.
He fell without a groan, and instantly expired ; on
which the broken band covered up his face with dust,
and then resumed their march, utterly broken and
impoverished by their holy war.

Eed Cloud, like Brigham, is elected to his office
by the acclamation of his people ; like Brigham
he may be deposed by popular vote ; but while he
keeps his throne, he reigns by grace of God and is
divinely aided to fulfil his task. The Indian legend
runs, that when the tribe, divine in origin, assemble
for a pow-wow, every one is touched and led by an
invisible and unfallible guide. 'Let us have Eed
Cloud for our chief ; ' a warrior cries, on which the
bucks and braves all raise their wild yep, yep. This
chorus is the call of heaven. So too, when the Saints
are gathered in their church, divine in origin, each
Saint is assumed to be fired and guided by the Holy
Ghost. ' Let us have brother Brigham for our
prophet, seer, and revelator,' cries some elder, and
the crowd of male and female Saints respond — Amen !

224 WHITE CONQUEST.

The voice of the people is the voice of God. Seceders
may go out from either Sioux camp or Mormon
church, but to depose an Indian chief is no less hard
than to dethrone a Mormon seer. Sitting Bull has
separated from Eed Cloud, carrying with him a
thousand lodges of his nation ; David Smith has
separated from Brigham Young, carrying with him
more than a thousand families of his people ; yet
Eed Cloud remains the Sioux chief and Brigham
remains the Mormon seer.

Seceders cannot take away the grace which
covers an appointed chief. The seer not only
talks with the Great Spirit, but executes his judg
ments on the earth. A buck falls sick — he grovels
to his chief. That chief, he thinks, can wither him
by a spell. If that magician is not softened, he must
die. So thinks the Mormon of his own relation to
his pope. An Indian learns that sickness is a sign
of sin. He thinks a devil has entered his flesh, and
when, amidst the toil and hardship of a hunter's
life, he feels the fever in his veins, the ague in his
joints, the ulcer in his lungs, he crawls to his
sorcerer, who groans and prays, makes passes with
his palms, and puts the sinner under spells and charms.

INDIAN SEERS. 225

The same things happen to a Mormon, who believes
that sickness is a sign of sin, and that a member
who appears to be unsound in either mind or body
is possessed of a ' bad spirit/ A bishop is a doctor,
and his remedies are prayers and invocations ; his
object in crying to the heavens being to cast out the
demon which torments his brother's flesh.

Every one who comes into the Indian country
finds these notions on the soil and in the air.

At Santa Clara, Fray Tomas found a medicine
man ruling the people by divine and patriarchal
right, as seer and father of his tribe. Fray Tomas
took his place, but left the law on which that seer
and patriarch reigned untouched. A change of
person introduced no change of plan. Each
governed with despotic sway. Though chosen to
his post, the Indian ruled in the name and with
the power of his Great Spirit. The rule was
priestly and the kingdom was of God. Fray Tomas
governed in the name of his Great Spirit — his Holy
Trinity, his Three in One. Such are the methods,
such the pretensions, of Brigham Young. The
Mormon prophet only goes beyond a teacher like

VOL. i. Q

226 WHITE CONQUEST.

Fray Tomas, where Fray Tomas fell behind such
chiefs as Bed Cloud. A Christian friar is chastened
in his exercise of power by the remembrance of
his vows and by the habits and restraints of
civilized life. An Indian seer admits no check on
his authority, and a Mormon pontiff admits no check
on his authority ; yet, like the Franciscan prior, an
Indian seer and Mormon pontiff find a limit even to
* divine ' commission.

227

CHAPTER XXIII.

COMMUNISM.

To introduce the Indian doctrine of Common Pro
perty in lodge and land, with the village adjunct of
Blood Atonement, into a community of White people,
is more than Brigham Young has yet been able to
achieve, though he has pressed those doctrines on
his people in Salt Lake Valley with a sleepless
energy, acting through the Indian machinery of
secret societies and orders, bound by oaths to carry
out his despotic will.

Men who can be persuaded by their bishops to
marry a second and a third wife, or seal two sisters
for the kingdom's sake, can not be induced by
Danite bands, Avenging Angels, and Sons of Enoch,
to make over to the church, that is to say the president,
as 'trustee in trust,' their shops and sheds, their
mines and mills. Brigham is trying to induce
his people to abandon then: private property, and

Q2

228 WHITE CONQUEST.

live on a common stock, like their Lamanite
brethren, the Shoshones and Utes.

Joe Smith tried the same experiment in Missouri.
Getting some of his early disciples to put their
money into joint-stock banks, he raised a Common
Eund, of which he acted as trustee in trust, and
bought estates with the money, in a common name —
that common name being Joseph Smith. His plans
broke down, and personal property was spared, yet
Smith reserved his principle by insisting on the
payment of tithes. Each Saint had to pay a tenth
of what he owned into the church. Each year this
tithing was repeated on the convert's income, and
the theory was taught in every meeting-house that
* property belongs to God.' A private person might
be called a steward of the Lord, but his original and
abiding steward was the Church.

Brigham Young, living nearer to the 'sacred
race ' than Smith, and having Lamanite examples
always in his sight, pushes this pretension of his
Master home ; insisting that a Saint of perfect faith
shall place the whole of his earthly goods in trust ;
and here and there, some ardent follower listens
to counsel, gives up his all on earth, and takes from

COMMUNISM. 229

Young a promise of the highest seat among the gods
in heaven. To quicken zeal in sacrifice, a new
Order has been created in Utah, called the Order
of Enoch, and the men who 'consecrate' their
property to God, are made members of this Order —
Sons of Enoch, and like Enoch, Heirs of Life. It is
a form of aristocracy ; a grade in a new order of
nobles. Not many persons have yet earned this
grade. A convert now and then lays down his all,
and wins from his prophet the promise of a seat
among the highest thrones ; but a Saint grown grey
in sanctity is rarely tempted to exchange his
fields and barns, his cows and pigs, his wheels and
saws, for promises of a heavenly crown. While Fox,
a poor disciple, surrenders all he owns, and takes
such mite as Young allows him for food and clothes,
Jennings, the rich disciple, builds himself a handsome
villa in the suburbs, which he furnishes with busts
and pictures, books and cabinets, like a gentleman's
house in Eegent's Park.

Great care is taken that such transfers of pro
perty to the Church are made in legal form, and
.sworn before a Gentile judge.

This Order has a strong attraction for the Sho-

230 WHITE CONQUEST.

shones, Sioux and Utes. Lame Dog or Flying-
Deer, according to his Indian legends, understands
the Order as a call to come in and share the good
things in Main Street and First Ward. Stalking into
a shop, the Indian worthy helps himself to what he-
wants — rugs, paint or potted jam — and then moves
quickly towards the door.

' Hillo ! guess you'll lay that down, you dirty
scamp,' cries his fellow Saint, who has not yet become
a Son of Enoch.

c Hi, hi ! ' whines Lame Dog. ' Me Enoch ; you
Enoch ? me eat your beef, me sleep your wigwam :.
nice, hi, hi ! '

Not being a Son of Enoch and a Heir of Life,
the store-keeper hustles Lame Dog or Flying Deer
into the street. In practice, it is found that men
who have nothing to share with their fellow Saints,,
fall in most readily with the Lamanite principle of a
Common Property in goods and lands.

No principle has drawn more obloquy on the Mor
mons than their doctrine of Blood Atonement and
Blood Eetaliation ; a doctrine which springs directly
from the patriarchal system, and which was borrowed
by Joseph Smith from his sacred brethren, the

COMMUNISM. 231

Lamanites. This doctrine led to the Mormon expul
sion from Ohio and Missouri, and was the cause of
Joseph Smith's assassination in Carthage Jail. A
suspicion that this doctrine of Eetaliation animates
Brigham Young, involves him in some degree of
responsibility for the Mountain Meadow Massacre, for
the murders of Brassfield and Eobinson, and for many
other misdeeds of Eockwell and the Danite band.

This doctrine of Eetaliation— eye for eye, tooth
for tooth, blood for blood— is not only foreign, but
abhorrent to the Anglo-Saxon mind. All hunting
tribes know the principle, and retain the practice.
It is common to Sioux, Apaches, Kickapoos, and
Kiowas. It is also common to Bedouins, Tartars,
and Turkomans. In every savage tribe, Blood-
Vengeance is a necessary act, and the Blood
Avenger is regarded as a hero in his tribe. A
Pai-TJte who scalps a Shoshone in revenge becomes
a chief; a Salhaan who kills an Adouan in revenge
becomes a sheikh. Eevenge, according to these
savage codes, ennobles the shedder of blood. In a
Corsican village, the man who has last drawn blood
in a great vendetta, struts about in cap and feathers,
envied by every village swain, adored by every

232 WHITE CONQUEST.

village maiden. On the Nile, a fellah who goes
into the neighbouring hamlet, and exacts blood for
blood, is said to do a royal deed. Oriental law
givers have usually been forced to admit the prin
ciple, even while they were trying to check the
practice of Blood Atonements. Moses allows retali
ation, though he places it under some restraint.
Mohammed treats it in a similar spirit. Solon saw
the absurdity of exacting tooth for tooth, and eye for
eye, yet the Athenian legislator left the principle
embodied in his code. England has the merit of
repudiating this savage principle. Once, indeed, an
attempt was made to introduce the principle into
our legal system ; but this attempt was made so long
ago as the reign of Edward the Third. After trial
of the system for a single year, the theory was
rejected and the law repealed.

Among the higher races of mankind the rule
has been put down. A touch of the old savagery
lingers on the frontiers of civilisation. France finds
a remnant of this rule in Corsica, Spain in Biscay,
England in Connaught, America in the prairies — each
nation on the spot where remnants of her ancient
races yet survive.

COMMUNISM. 233

Every observer in America notices the preva
lence of communistic sentiment — a readiness to put
the country before the commonwealth, and to replace
public justice by private murder. This disposition
shews itself in secret leagues — Danite Bands, Ku
Klux Klans, Camelia Circles — no less than in the
prevalence of Vigilance Committees, and the ope
rations of Judge Lynch.

A farmer named Yancil lives near De Soto, a
town on Big Muddy Eiver, in the southern part of
Illinois. Old and feeble, this farmer has a quarrel
with his wife, who leaves his farm, and goes to live
with her friends at a distance. Needing some help
in his house, Vancil hires a woman on wages, and
puts his pots and pans under her charge. One day,
twelve fellows, masked and otherwise disguised,
come to his farm, and finding him at home, tell him
they have judged his case and settled what he must do.

' You judge between my wife and me ? '

4 Yes, Sir, we have weighed the facts.'

' The facts ! what facts ? '

6 No matter,' they reply ; ' we know the facts,
and find you in the wrong.'

1 Well,' says Vancil, ' if you know . . .'

234 WHITE CONQUEST.

c Talk is useless,' says the spokesman of the
party ; ' we have come to put things square. You
send that help away ; you fetch the old woman
home ; you make the quarrel up ; and for the future,
keep her on the farm.'

6 Have you no more commands to lay on me ? >
asks Vancel, rising in his wrath.

' Yes,' returns the spokesman, who goes on with
several things of no great moment, as to what the
farmer ought to do.

6 Suppose I disobey ? '

'Don't try,' the spokesman snarls; 'if you
refuse to carry out these orders, we shall hang you
like a dog. Beware ! '

At once the farmer sends away his hired help,
and writes to tell his wife about the strange orders
he has got. On all the lesser points, he carries out
these orders : but the woman will not come to live
with him again. She knows nothing, she alleges, of
her champions, and refuses to take advantage of
their interference. A few nights after their first
visit the band returns, masked as before, to Vancil's
farmhouse.

c Where is the wife ? ' snaps one.

COMMUNISM. 235;

' She will not come back,' sighs the old fellow.
' I have put away the hired woman. I have sent
for my wife ; I have done everything you bade
me ; but I have no means of making my wife come
home.'

In spite of his entreaties and explanations, this
poor old man is pushed from his house, dragged to
a tree near by, strung to a branch, and left till he is
dead. Next day his corpse is found by a farmer
named Stewart Chip.

This Stewart Chip, a farmer living near the place,
saw the party of masked men, and recognised two
or three of them, through their disguise, as members
of a secret society, called the Ku-Klux of Illinois.
Chip gave tongue, being roused to anger by an
outrage happening at his door. Two members of
the league were arrested on suspicion, and indicted
at the petty sessions, but before the trial came on,
the only witness who could swear against them was
no more. As Clup was riding home in his waggon,
from the mill at De Soto, a click was heard in the
lane, a patter of shot came hissing through the air,,
and Clup rolled back into the hind part of his>
waggon dead. His horses plodded home, with

236 WHITE CONQUEST.

their load of flour, and turned into the yard, before
Chip's family knew that he was killed. This witness
gone, the case against the two suspected men was
at an end.

No clue has yet been found to the perpetra
tors of this second murder. Everybody in De
Soto swears that those who hung Vancil know who
shot Clup ; but how are the suspected persons to be
arrested, and how are witnesses to be compelled to
speak ? The sheriff will not act ; he is a servant of
the commune ; and he has to mind his own affairs.

Illinois, the scene of these murders, prides
herself on many things. She is a large and
populous State, and for so young a country may be
called a literary and scholastic State. She has a
dozen universities and academies. She has more
than thirteen thousand libraries. In 1870 she
counted two million five hundred thousand souls ;
three million four hundred thousand volumes.
Barring some ninety thousand natives, and forty-two
thousand foreigners, every man and woman in Illinois
is supposed to be able to read and write. She is
the paradise of pork butchers and whisky distillers ;
her business mainly lying in dead meat and fer-

COMMUNISM. 237

mented liquor. Fully one-third of all the slaughter
ing done in the United States is done in Illinois ;
fully one-fifth of all the distilling done in the
United States is done in Illinois.

Science might find in these occupations of the
people a moral basis for Ku-Klux ; that wild form
of justice which in someKed sections of the country
takes the names of Light Horse and Mourning Bands,
and in most White sections the names of Lynch Law
and Vigilance Committees.

. In Europe, Illinois is chiefly known by the tragic
story of the Mormon settlement in Nauvoo, from
which locality the Saints were driven by fire and
sword. A full account of life in the prairie lands,
on which the Eed and White men are still in contact,
would supply a hundred tragedies no less singular in
detail than the murder of Joseph Smith in Carthage
Jail.

' A law abiding people ! ' says to me a magistrate
of much experience on the bench in Illinois ; ' a jest,
Sir, and a sorry sort of jest! '

'Your codes,' I interpose, 'seem marked by
much good sense, as well as highly liberal sentiment/

£ Oh, the codes are well enough,' he answers witli

238 WHITE CONQUEST.

a jerk, ' if anybody would obey them ; but our folks
are spendthrifts, who pay their debts with promissory
notes. We make more laws and break more laws
than any other people on this earth. Abide the
law ! Sir, we can't abide the law.'

239

CHAPTER XXIV.

WHITE VENDETTA.

IN Illinois every man claims to be a law to him
self, and every second man claims to be a law to
other people. Wild justice, as among the Indian
wigwams, is the favourite form of punishment ; if pure
revenge, the rule of eye for eye and tooth for tooth,
may be called punishment. Under this Indian
system, men of violent instincts assume a right to
reject the public code, and even to resist the popular
magistrate.

In many parts of Illinois, the public rule is faint
and formal ; for the officers of justices, whether judge
or coroner, sheriff or policeman, are elected by the
rank and file, and must obey the men who put
them in their seats. Home rule is organised. The
pig sticker and whisky dealer read the code in the
light of their strong passions, and support their view
of its articles with buck shot and bowie knives.

240 WHITE CONQUEST.

When they agree, their will is law. Judge, sheriff,
coroner — chosen by the people — chosen for a
short time only — have no option but to serve the
power which raised them up, and in a little while
may pull them down. Such officers are seldom rich.
Their services are meanly paid. Hardly one in five
has either sense enough to see, or strength enough
to execute, his trust according to the higher prin
ciples of public right. An ordinary sheriff is an
ordinary man. He lives on the clearing, where he
has to watch over his pigsty and his still. His plan
is to receive his pay, and let the world go by. ' Our
sheriff,' laughs a philosopher in a leather jacket, ' is
always square ; when any cuss is up, Frank turns
his back and lets things slide.'

Sheriff Frank is a typical man. When farmer,
butcher, and distiller differ in their views, they fight
it out. One party wins, and law becomes again a
rude expression of the general will.

On Saturday evening, December 12, 1874,
Colonel Sisney, Sheriff of Williamson county, was
sitting in his own house, near Carterville, with his
brother-in-law, George Hindman, playing a game
of dominoes in the fading light. A lamp was lit,

WHITE VENDETTA. 241

a curtain drawn ; the lamp so placed that shadows
of the two men inside the room were thrown on
the window blind. A shot was heard. Crash went
the glass, and both the players sprang to their feet,
stung with the pain of gunshot wounds. Two loaded
guns were in the room. Each seized a weapon, and
prepared to fire. A scurry of retiring feet was heard
beyond the fence. Sisney, though bleeding fast,
rushed to the door, lifted the latch, and stepped into
the yard. Retreating steps could still be heard,
though faintly, in the scrub ; but in the darkness of
night, and with his bleeding wounds, the sheriff was
unable to give chase.

When help arrived, Sisney was found to be
seriously hurt. One arm was blown to pieces ; a
mass of squirrel shot was lodged in his side and
breast. Hindman was hurt still more, and no one
thought he could survive the night. No less than
thirteen slugs and other small shot had passed into
his chest.

Next morning, Carterville was all astir. On
close examination of the fields about the homestead,
marks were found, which showed that the assassin
had taken off his shoes, and crept through the

VOL. I. R

242 WHITE CONQUEST.

scrub in his stockings. By this precaution he
had been able to reach the house without being
heard, to note his enemies as they sat at play, to
cover them with his shotted gun, and dash the charge
into their sides. The man had evidently retired in
the belief that they were killed.

Every man in Carterville knew the murderer,
but no one cared to raise the hue and cry. They
said it was an old feud ; a family quarrel, like the
strife of Guelph and Ghibelline, of Ute and
Snake. Last time, the victim was a Bulliner ; this
time he is a Sisney. If the two families like to have a
feud of blood, what right has any one to interfere ?
What day is this, the villagers ask ? Twelfth day
of December ! Was not Bulliner shot this very day
last year ? Has any of the Sisney party suffered for
that crime ? It is but turn about. So reason all
the tribe of Sheriff Frank. A murder was committed
in the previous year. Who doubts that some of the
Bulliner family had marked this day for Sisney 's
death ?

On searching out the facts, I find a story of
vendetta in the Prairie lands, which for vin
dictive passion equals the most brutal quarrels in
Ajaccio and the Monte d'Oro ; almost rivals in

WHITE VENDETTA. 243

atrocity the blood feuds of the two Cherokee factions
in Vinta between Stand Watie and Jack Boss.

Colonel Sisney and George Bulliner were neigh
bours, living on adjoining farms, near Carterville.
Sisney had a farm of three hundred and sixty
acres, Bulliner a farm, a saw mill, and a woollen
mill. Sisney, a native of the country, had served in
the war, and gained the rank of captain. How he
obtained the grade of colonel, no one seems to
know ; he may have been commissioned in the way
of Colonel Brown. Bulliner was a new comer,
who had left Tennessee, his native state, during the
civil war. Sisney had three sons, the eldest of
whom, John, was married. Bulliner had sons
named Jack and Dave, and a younger brother, David,
who had a son called George. Sisney and Bulliner
were more or less intimate with all the settlers
living round them ; Sisney with the Eussells and
Hendersons, Bulliner with the HinchclifFes and
Cranes.

Not far off lived a family named Stocks, in which
were three young and pretty girls, sisters and first-
cousins, who were objects of attention to the young
sters in all these parts. Illinois is one of those

E 2

244 WHITE CONQUEST.

States in which White women are in great demand,
the White males being nearly a hundred thousand in
excess of the White females. A house in which
three or four pretty girls are growing up, is a centre
of much resort, and the scene of many jealousies.
Sallie and Nellie Stocks were sisters, and the elder
sister, Sallie, was a great coquette. Sallie kept
company with Jack Bulliner, while Nellie was
adored by his brother Dave. So far, these strangers
from Kentucky seemed to carry the field ; but
things were not so smooth as they appeared, Sallie,
liking to have more than one string to her bow,
began to flirt with Tom Eussell. Tom was her
cousin. People said he was her c choice,' and though
she smiled on Jack Bulliner, shrewd gossips held
that she would end by marrying her cousin Tom.

A question rose between these neighbours as
to the ownership of a parcel of oats. Sisney had
these oats in his barn ; Bulliner asserted that he had
paid for them. A reference to the local courts
supported Sisney 's claim. Soon after the decision,
Dave Bulliner dropped into a blacksmith's forge
which stood on Sisney 's farm, and finding Sisney
there, he accused him of having won his cause by

WHITE VENDETTA. 245

swearing what was false. The Sheriff's blood fired
up, and snatching a spade, he ran at Dave Bullincr,
and cut him in the arm. Dave bolted home, and
told his father, his brother Jack, and three other
men, that a murderous attack had been made on
him by Sisney. The Kentuckians seized their shot
guns and revolvers, and set out in a body for
Sisney 's house. On seeing the five men coming up
his lane, Sisney, taking his rifle with him, slipped
through the back door, and made for a fence, behind
which stood some trees. As he crossed the fence, his
enemies fired, and he was badly hurt, yet running
to the shelter of a tree, he raised his piece, and
called on them to halt. The Bulliners drew up, for
Sisney was a dead shot. A parley took place, when
the Kentuckians agreed to leave the farm, if Sisney
would promise not to fire as they filed off.

Actions were brought on both sides for assault
with deadly weapons, but the local judge, accustomed
to such scenes, induced the parties to withdraw the
pleas, and pay a fine of one hundred dollars each into
the county fund.

But blood is not appeased by words. Each
party drew their friends and neighbours into the

246 WHITE CONQUEST.

quarrel ; Sisney the Hendersons and Eussells, Bui-
liner the Hinchcliffes and Cranes. One Sunday
morning, Sisney and his son met some of the Cranes
at church, in Carterville, and when the service ended,
they came out of church and fought in the public
street. Clubs, stones, and knives were used. No
lives were lost ; but Sisney and his son were banged
and bruised. Appeal was made to the magistrate in
CarterviHe, and on the day of hearing, the parties
mustered in the town. Dave Bulliner and Tom
Eussell met. Tom Eussell swore that no Bulliner
should have his cousin, Sallie Stocks. The young
sters fought ; the elders -joined them ; and the riot
act was read. Each party rode away from
Carterville, swearing they would have the other's
blood.

George Bulliner, father of the two swains, was
the first to fall. He was riding to Carbondale, his
horse plodding lazily along the road, when he was
shot from a tree. Some neighbours found him in
the mire, his body riddled with slugs. Tom Eussell
was suspected of the crime, and an indictment was
served on the sheriff; but the sheriff took no steps
for Tom's arrest, and two or three days after the

WHITE VENDETTA. 247

murder, Eussell left the place. No one attempted
to pursue him, and people soon had reason to think
he was not far off.

Some twelve weeks later on, a farmer sitting
on his bench in Carterville Church, on Sunday night,
observed the face of Tom Eussell peering through a
glass window at the folks inside. A second farmer,
sitting in another part of the church, observed the
face of Gordon Clifford, a wild fellow who was better
known as Texas Jack, peering through a glass
window at the folks inside. Dave Bulliner and
his brothers were in the church, with their aunt,
who was staying on a visit at the farm. After ser
vice, as the Bulliners were returning with the lady
to their farm, a volley crashed among them from
the bush. Dave fell. Monroe, a younger brother,
drew a pistol from his vest, and fired. The party
in the bush replied, when the old lady screamed— a
slug had passed into her side. Dave lived two days.
On his death-bed he made oath that among the
party who had fired on them from the bush, he
recognised Tom Eussell, his brother's rival in the
love of Sallie Stocks.

Tom was arrested, and the evidence against him

248 WHITE CONQUEST.

looked extremely strong. He had a deadly quarrel
with the murdered man ; he had been seen prying
through the church window, as if to mark his
victim ; and his face had been recognised in the
bush by his rival in love, his enemy in a family
feud. Worse remained behind. An officer, kicking
about the bush, picked up a piece of wadding, and
on smoothing out the paper, found it had been torn
from a copy of the Globe, a newspaper published
at St. Louis. Hinchcliffe, the post-master of Carter-
ville, testified that no one except Eussell received
that journal. The officers arrested Eussell, found
a shotted gun in his room, and, on drawing the
charge, they pulled out a piece of wadding, which
was found to join and fit the paper picked up, in the
shape of wadding, in the bush. Yet Tom escaped
conviction. This escape was due to another cousin,
a girl named Mattie, who swore — first, that she was
paying a visit to her uncle Eussell on the day when
Dave Bulliner was shot ; and second, that her cousin
Torn was at home the whole day and night ; and
third, most positively, that about eight o'clock in
the evening, he bade them all good-night and went
to bed. Squire Strover, who heard the case, was of

WHITE VENDETTA. 249

opinion that this evidence was enough. The prisoner
was discharged.

Disgusted with such law as they found in the
Prairie lands, the Bulliners snatched their guns and
marked their victims. Sisney was reserved for the
anniversary of George's death, but Henderson, his
chief supporter, was taken off at once. Jack Bui-
liner, with two companions, lay behind a heap of
logs in Henderson's field, and as the farmer turned
his plough, they fired into him a whole round of
buck-shot. Henderson lived a week. Before he
died, he made a statement that, according to his
true belief, Jack Ballmer was one of his assailants.
In a neighbouring field, a man named Ditmore
was at work, and heard the assailing party fire.
Within a week, Ditmore was shot.

Hinchcliffe was the next to fall. Hinchcliffe, a
physician, as well as a postmaster, was often out at
night, attending on his patients. He was riding
home one evening in the dark, when spits of fire
came out of a copse, near the lane, and struck him
dead. His horse was also killed.

Suspicion points to Cousin Tom and Texas Jack,
as the assassins of Hinchcliffe, but Cousin Tom

250 WHITE CONQUEST.

4

and Texas Jack are ugly customers to tackle. No
sheriff cares to undertake the job. Much feeling
is excited by this bloody deed, for Hinchcliffe was
a favourite in the place ; yet, down to this moment,
no one has been punished for the crime.

In truth, the deed was ceasing to be a theme for
talk, until the anniversary of Bulliner's murder
came, and the vendetta wTas renewed in the attempt
on Sisney's life.

Colonel Sisney has removed his family to Car-
bondale.

25!

CHAPTER XXV.

THE RED WAR.

FORT LEAVENWORTH, and the young city of Leaven-
worth, growing up under her guns, are ruffled by
some recent incidents of the Eed war ; a war which
often hides itself from sight, but never wholly ceases,
in countries where the Eed and White men are con
tending for the soil.

Bad blood is always flowing on the frontier line
which separates the White State of Kansas from
the Eed Territory of Cheyennes and Osages. The
savages are rich in ponies, and the settlers are
accused of stealing them; the citizens are rich in
cattle, and the hunters are accused of lifting them.
Both charges are too often just. A frontier settler
helps himself as freely to a horse or mule as to an
antelope or elk ; an Indian kills his neighbour's ox
as readily as he slings a buffalo calf. White men
shoot game in sport, on which bucks and braves

2^2 WHITE CONQUEST.

go out and kill their enemy's cows. They say it is
only sport. When a more deadly raid is meant, they
call the Light Horse, the Mourning Band, or some
such Indian league, and riding to the settled parts,
select a lonely ranch, surround the pales, rush on the
doors, scalp every living male, eat up the food,
set lire to the farms, and carry off the women to
their camps.

In May last year a son of Little Eobe, a Chey
enne chief, came over the border into Kansas with
his band. His herds, he said, had been driven by
White thieves, and in revenge, he stole a herd of
cattle from the nearest run. Some cavalry, then
patrolling on the Kansas line, gave chase, came up
with the marauders, mauled the chief, and re
covered the stolen stock.

Unable to meet the Whites in open field, the
Cheyennes, in accordance with their custom and the
genius of their league, are using the knife. A man
at the Agency breaks his leg, and Hollway, a son of
the agency physician, is nursing the invalid, when a
Cheyenne brave creeps into the sick man's hut, and
plunges a knife into young Hollway's heart. The
next victims are two Irish herders, Monahan and

THE RED WAR. 253

O'Leary, who are murdered on the Plains. Will
Watkins is killed at King Fish ranch. A govern
ment train is stopped, and four men scalped ; a
crime in which the Osages, neighbours of the Chey-
ennes, are known to have borne a part. A company
of infantry has left Fort Leavenworth, a company of
cavalry has left Fort Sill, in search of these mur
derers ; but the line is long, the land is open, and
the bands have burnt the grass for many leagues.
Who knows whether any of this White blood will be
avenged ?

Amidst the yell and scream of this Eed conflict,
two events have seized the public mind ; the mas
sacre at Smoky Hill, and the massacre at Medicine
Lodge.

A Georgian gentleman, named Germain, living on
the Blue Eidge, near Eingold, starts with his family
for the west, intending to try his luck in Colorado.
His family consists of a grown-up son, an invalid
daughter, four younger girls, and an infant too
young to walk. They travel in a common emi
grant waggon, resting at night, and pushing on by
day. Passing the river at Leavenworth, they are
driving by the Smoky Hill route for Denver, still

254 WHITE CONQUEST.

a dangerous road, although a railway runs along the
creek, and they are hardly a dozen miles from
Sheridan station, when Grey Eagle and his band of
Cheyennes come on them in the night. Germain and
his son are instantly scalped and hacked to shreds.
The wife and invalid girl are brained and chopped
to pieces, all the meats and drinks gobbled up, the
traps set on fire, and the younger girls carried to
the camp ; the Cheyenne warriors leaving no
thing behind them but a charred wheel and shaft,
with four dead bodies beaten out of human
shape ; nothing, as Grey Eagle fancied, that could
either serve to mark his victims, or betray his
trail. The deed is done, the murderers lost in
space.

When news come into Leavenworth that a fresh
massacre has been committed on the Smoky Hill, no
one believes the tale. But day by day the story
is confirmed, on which a party of men goes out to
see the spot. Bones, much picked by wolves and
ravens, lie about the Prairie track. Lumps of
burnt wood are strewn around. No one knows
the victims of this Indian outrage, but that murder
has been done no man who passes by that road can

THE RED WAR. 255

doubt. At length a book is found — a pocket
Bible, with an entry on the fly-leaf —

GERMAIN, BLUE RIDGE, GEORGIA.

Armed with this entry as a clue, the White
avengers are soon acquainted with the leading
facts. They learn that Germain's family consisted
of nine persons, so that five of them may still
be living in Grey Eagle's camp. Two of the girls,
Lucy and Ada, are young ladies, Lucy being nine
teen, Ada sixteen years of age. Adelaide is a
child of nine, and Julia barely seven. These chil
dren must be sought and found.

Grey Eagle makes for the Eed Fork of Arkansas
Eiver. by which he means to cross into the Public
Lands, lying westward of the Indian Nations. Find
ing the infant an encumbrance, one of the hunters
knocks it on the head, and flings it to the wolves.
Lucy and Ada are bestowed on the big chiefs ; but
the pursuers are so hot that Grey Eagle has no time
to dally with his prize. Passing the North Fork
of Canadian Eiver, he thinks of slipping into Texas,
when his band is caught in flank by Colonel
Miles, commander of a party on the Eed Eiver.

256 WHITE CONQUEST.

Grey Eagle fights like a Cheyenne warrior, but
Colonel Miles has a hundred sabres and a howitzer
under his command, After holding to their line
five hours, the savage chief falls back. Captain
Overton's company pursues him for twenty miles,
and then gives up the chase, having secured one
part of his prize in the two girls, Adelaide and
Julia, who are found in one of the Indian tents.
On hearing that these girls are left behind, Grey
Eagle turns his horse, and rushes on Overton's troop,
meaning to cut a lane through them, and retake
the girls ; but the American troops close up, and
baffle his attacks. Again he turns., and dashes on
the line of sabres, filling those hardy frontier soldiers
with respect. At length, the savage wheels and
flies. Once on the wing, no man and horse armed
in American fashion can hope to overtake his flight.
Next morning, a hundred picked men, com
manded by Captain Niel, are placed on their trail,
with orders to recover the two young ladies, Lucy
and Ada, from their savage captors. Leaven worth,
Kansas, and America, they are told, expect these
ladies at their hands. Looking at their clenched
teeth and knitted brows, there is no need to ask a

THE RED WAR.

257

promise from these volunteers. If they come back
alive, Lucy and Ada Germain will be saved.

This tragedy has a counterpart in the massacre
of Medicine Lodge. A band of Osages, living
on the lands set apart for them, strike their tents,
and ride into the Plains in search of grass and
game. Some Osage families are tame, men of
mixed blood, who till their land, and live in decent
huts ; but nine in ten of this savage family are
wild men, living by the chase. Driving their
mules and ponies, and accompanied by their
squaws and imps, they wander up and down ; but
game is scarce, and much of the grass has been
lately burnt. They have to spread their wings ,
and follow distant trails. No buffaloes are found,
the herds appearing to have crossed the frontier
line into Kansas.

One of these bands of Osages, numbering nine
teen hunters, ten squaws, and about eighty ponies, .
are encamped near the frontier, looking in vain
for game. Two White men ride into their camp.
These persons come from Medicine Lodge, in Bar
ber county, Kansas, and are members of Captain
Bickers' troop of horse. ' Have you seen any buf-
VOL. i. s

258 WHITE CONQUEST.

falo ? ' ask the Osage hunters. ' Yes, plenty — over
there,' reply the White men, pointing to a sandy
plain, a little to the north. The hunters start,
and they are soon among the herds.

A few days serve to kill, cut up, and jerk their
meat; and, having packed their skins and food,
called in their scouts and ponies, they are turn
ing towards the south, when clouds of dust arise in
front of them. Hillo ! A company is riding hard
and fast, and from their arms and horses the hun
ters know that they are White men, forty or more
in number. To fly is ruin, to resist is death.
Tents, skins, provisions, ponies must be left be
hind. The Osages stand and wait for the storm to
break. When the white line arrives within a
hundred yards, a halt is called, a council held.
Two Osage bucks, armed with rifles and six-
shooters, ride out to meet them. Two White men
advance to greet these heralds, shake hands in
sign of friendliness, and ask them to come in as
guests. The Indians slip to the ground, give up
their arms and ponies, and are led to Captain
Eickers, who tells them that he and his friends are
citizens of Medicine Lodge, looking out for bad

THE RED WAR. 259

Indians, such as Kiowas and Cheyennes, who are
committing robbery and murder in the White settle
ments. On seeing their friends received so well,
two other bucks, carrying two rifles, but no six-
shooters, ride out ; the four rifles and two six-
shooters being the only weapons of these savages.
They are received with smiles and drinks. A
fifth and sixth Osage now come in, and then a
seventh and eighth, each Keel-skin dismounting
and disarming the moment he arrives. The White
men stand about, chatting and smiling, but with
rifles ready for a sign. When Kickers sees that
no more bucks are coming in, a word is given, a
line is opened, and a volley fired. Four of the
eight Osages fall. The other four, springing to their
ponies, and leaving saddles, clothes, and arms
behind, strike wildly through the sand and grass.
Kickers gives tongue, and his followers charge into
the camp. ¥ot waiting their attack, the Osages
scatter in a ring. Dusk only puts an end to the
pursuit.

At midnight two of the Osages creep back, and
finding the White men gone, search the rifte and
ridges for their wounded brethren and their cap-

s 2

260 WHITE CONQUEST.

turecl stock. Three of the dead are found, two of
them scalped, and otherwise hacked and slashed.
Fifty-five mules and ponies, which they left behind,
are gone. Their skins, their tents, their buffalo
meats, are either taken or destroyed. Cast down
by their misery, the Osages seek their trail, recross
the frontier, and return to their proper camp, the
hunters almost naked, and the squaws and little
ones on foot.

An Indian Agent, much excited by this massa
cre, rides to Medicine Lodge, a stockade on the
Prairie, where he finds Captain Bickers and sixty
border men, acting as militia under a regular com
mission from Governor Osborn.

' Who killed the four Osages ? ' repeats Captain
Eickers, in high contempt, ' we killed the Osages ;
and we mean to kill the vermin whenever we catch
them in our State.' Kickers refuses to give the
Indian Agent details of the fray. The captured
ponies are at Medicine Lodge ; the agent sees them
there, and knows them by their Indian marks.
Appeals are made to Governor Osborn in Topeka,
but the governor will not interfere with his militia.
Eickers, he says, is captain of a company of State

THE RED WAR. 261

militia, properly enrolled, and out on service in the
field. ' The terms of his commission are, to treat
all bands of Indians found within the State as hos
tile.' The Indian Agent finds a flaw in this defence.
4 Tell me, governor,' he answers, 'the date of this
commission. Is it not the fact that Captain Kickers'
commission is dated ten days after the massacre
near Medicine Lodge ? * Osborn only smiles.

Who cares for dates and signatures when they
are dealing with such savages as Grey Eagle?
Adelaide and Julia Germain are safe within the
lines of Fort Leavenworth ; but their elder sisters,
Lucy and Ada, are still in their savage captor's
hands.

262 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XXVI.

CHEKOKEE FEUDS.

' WHAT is about to happen ? ' we enquire of a
settler at Olathe, a city with six log shanties, a
church, a school, a drinking bar, and a fringe of
maize. Olathe is suffering from a scare.

Three weeks ago, five men with masked faces,
stopped the train running from Fort Scott to
Kansas City, in open day. Two of the five men
kept guard, their rifles cocked, while their pals
entered the cars, and rifled the express of thirty
thousand dollars. No one interfered, for who
could tell how many passengers were members
of the gang? Why should a man expose himself
to fire and steel? The thieves got off. But
that affair is three weeks old ; the present scare
arises from events to come.

' A gang of Cherokees, under Billy Boss,,
their savage chief, are corning up the country,

CHEROKEE FEUDS. 263

swearing they will burn out the White men and
cany off the White women from Vinita, that is what's
going to happen,' growls a settler on the Kansas plain.

' But surely,' I venture to put in, ' those Chero-
kees under Billy Eoss are civilised people, not wild
animals like Cheyennes and Osages. Are they
not settled on the land? Have they not farms
and sheep-runs, schools and chapels? Are they
not dressed in caps and coats, and called by
Christian names? Billy Eoss does not exactly
smack of tomahawk and scalping-knife.'

' Ha, ha ! ' roars the Kansas settler. ' bully for
you. I see you'll bite. Then tell me, stranger,
what is the difference whether you call a savage
Flying Hawk or Billy Eoss ? Will a name wash
off war paint, or turn the Indian's yep-yep into
Home, sweet Home? Guess Billy Eoss is a savage,
like the fathers of his tribe.'

'Vinita is a Cherokee town. Why should the
Cherokees burn their own cabins and sack their
own farms ? '

' Because they are some cuss. Look at this
news from Texas. They are expecting an attack by
Eoss. The women and children are aboard the

264 WHITE CONQUEST.

train, ready to pull out at a moment's notice. Two
thousand armed men, mostly full-bloods, are about
the place. Spies report them within twenty miles
of Vinita — guess you'll say that's not a sort of news
to make a scare ? '

' This news, you say, comes in from Texas. Is
not Texas a long way from Vinita ? '

' Guess they're smart boys, those Texas reporters.
Sure as Grey Eagle scalped poor Germain, and
stole his daughters, Billy Eoss will scalp the boys
of Vinita, and bear their women to his camp. The
boys will fight, but one would like to hear of that
train of women and children being safe under the
guns of Fort Scott.'

Vinita, as we find on reaching it, is a camp or
town of the Cherokees ; the chief place of this Indian
nation, though their paper capital is at Tahlequah.
Vinita is a nest of sties and shanties, lying among a
few patches of maize and weeds. Here the Chero
kees have a school, a chapel, and a secret grog
shop ; secret because Cherokees are not allowed
to buy and sell whisky, otherwise than on the sly.
Blood has been shed, and may be shed again in
Vinita ; but not, we find, the blood of White men

CHEROKEE FEUDS. 265

and women. In spite of smart reporters, no White
women live in Vinita; and no White men, except
seven or eight railway servants, and a dozen
fellows who have married squaws. The only White
men who have got into trouble at Yinita, are two
scalawags, who brought whisky to the place, and
tried to sell it, contrary to law. Some braves got
drunk ; a row began, and while this row was on,
the two whisky vendors got hung. No one can tell
me how it happened. No one but myself enquires.
Who cares about a scalawag more or less ? Dead
men collect no bills.

But a more serious fray than a whisky broil
threatens the prosperity of Vinita. These Cherokees
are cursed with a tribal feud ; & feud which has a
counterpart in every Indian camp.

When the Gherokees were being ousted from
their ancient hunting-grounds in Georgia and Ala
bama, and were offered their present lands — given
to them in exchange, to be their own ' as long as
grass should grow and water run,' the Indians wrere
divided in counsel as to what they ought to do. A
cunning chief, who had assumed the name of Eoss,
became the leader of such Cherokees as wished to

266 WHITE CONQUEST.

treat the Pale-faces as enemies — to reject their offers
of an exchange of lands, and stand out against them
as long as his braves could draw a bow and pull a
scalp. A second chief, who had assumed the name
of Adair, became the leader of such Cherokees as
wished to try the Pale-face customs — to accept the
new homes, to give up hunting game, and cultivate
the land. One party was feudal, the other party
radical. Eoss was for war paint, cattle lifting,
common property, and despotic chiefs ; Adair for
soap and water, settled homesteads, personal pro
perty, and equal laws.

Two brothers, named Strong Buck and Stand
Watie, were the active radical chiefs ; Strong Buck
the thinker, Stand Watie the soldier of their band.
Adair was but a nominal head. Strong Buck had
been sent by Elias Boudinot, a kindly French
planter, to a good school, where he had learned to
read, become a Catholic, adopted the name of his
French patron, and married a woman with White
blood in her veins. While the tribes were moving to
their new grounds, Eoss and his friends were all for
fighting, Boudinot and his friends were all for par
leying with the Whites along the roads. As they

CHEROKEE FEUDS. 267

approached Fort Gibson, further differences broke
out. Eoss wished his men to live as Cherokees had
always lived, in tribal order, holding common pro
perty under a reigning chief. Boudinot proposed a
change. He wished to live like White men, under
law, and to divide the tribal lands among the heads
of families. Words led to blows, and blows to
murder. Thirty of the Eoss party stole to Boudi-
not's ranch, and finding him absent in a field, sent
four of their body to beg him, as a favour, to mix
some physic for a sick squaw. On his turning back
with them towards his cabin, they led him into a
snare, when a dozen fiends sprang on him, and
with yells and curses plunged their knives into his
heart.

Stand Watie took up the mission of avenging
his brother's blood, and in the Cherokee fashion
he raised a band of avenging braves. He chased
the murderers, fighting them day and night, till
nearly all were slain, and he was weary of his great
revenge. From that day forward, the Cherokees
have been ranged in opposite camps ; one side ad
hering to Stand Watie, while the other side have ad
hered to Eoss. All those who wished to settle down,

268 WHITE CONQUEST.

divide the land, adopt White customs, and prepare
for citizenship, rallied round Stand Watie and Adair.
All braves and hunters who preferred to roam and
thieve, and keep their ancient order, rallied round
Koss. These factions were now divided, not by
opinions only, but by cries for blood.

Eoss formed his chief adherents into a secret
brotherhood, called the Pin League. The members
of this secret league are known to each other by a
pin fastened in their hunting shirts. They have
their signs and grips, their rules and oaths. They
swear to put down radical opinion, and support the
'customs of their tribes, as well as to avenge their
slaughtered partisans. A branch of the Pin League,
with functions very much like those of the Danite
band, is known as Light Horse. Well-armed, and
mounted on swift ponies, the captains of these Light
Horse scoured the country, firing lonely ranches,
and murdering helpless enemies, on a secret sign
from Eoss.

Except Stand Watie, every man among the
radical party was afraid of this Pin League and
these Light Horse. The Cherokee Ironside was
never molested ; but their hands lay heavy on less

CHEROKEE FEUDS. 269

warlike members of the tribe. One day, seven of
the Light Horse, led by Bear Paw. one of Boss'
warriors, broke into Adair's house, and finding
the chief sick in bed, dragged him into the open
yard, and shot him in the presence of his squaws.
His son, according to the Indian rule of Blood
Atonement, was also taken out and shot.

For these black deeds Bear Paw was made a
captain in the Light Horse, and his example spurred
on other braves to imitate his heroism. One party
caught a lad named Webber, a nephew of the mur
dered Boudinot, and, for his uncle's sins, hacked him
to pieces with their knives. A party followed Eidge,
an uncle of Boudinot, into Arkansas, and shot him
from his horse ; while another party rode to the
ranch of another Eidge, a cousin of Boudinot,
dragged him out of bed, and in the presence of his
wife, plunged no less than twenty-nine daggers
into his chest.

Jack Eoss has been succeeded by his son Billy,
a cunning fellow, who contrives to keep his hold
on the conservatives of his party — thieves, poly-
gamists, and communists, who wish to keep their
ancient ways. The leadership of his opponents, the

270 WHITE CONQUEST.

radicals, who wish to imitate the Whites, has fallen
to Colonel Adair, a son of the murdered chief, and
Colonel Boudinot, a son of Strong Buck.

Dressed in English attire, Colonel Boudinot
might pass for a southern White. This young Mestizo
speaks with force and writes with point ; but his
accomplishments are causes of suspicion to the igno
rant Cherokees, not one in five of whom can under
stand an English phrase. It is a saying in Vinita,
that the son of Strong Buck is rather White than
Eed.

The scare of which we heard at Olathe, on the
Kansas frontier, is an incident in this tribal feud.
Colonel Boudinot is in Washington, but Colonel
Adair is living with his nation near Yinita. On
Christmas Day, Lewis, a son-in-law of Colonel Adair,
invited some of his friends to a carouse. Eoss tried
to spoil their sport. Consena, a deputy-sheriff, and
three other Indians of their party, rode to the place,
pretending they were sent for to assist in keeping
order ; and as the radicals arrived they took pos
session of their arms and whisky-flasks. Some
yielded readily ; but two of Adair 's party, Tom
Cox and Jack Doubletooth, refused to give up

CHEROKEE FEUDS. 271

either flasks or pistols. On Consena threatening
them with force they fired into his party, and a
fight began. One of the deputy's friends was
killed. The deputy was scratched, but managed
to retreat. Tom Cox and Jack Double tooth were
botli disabled by their wounds, and nearly twenty
of the Cherokees were badly hurt.

The Pins turned out, swearing they would
raze Vinita to the ground, converting their poor
copy of a White hamlet into a real Indian camp.
They have not done so yet. The feud is likely
to go on, until the causes which produce it shall
have ceased to act. Eoss will not readily give up
his power ; nor will his chiefs give up their common
property in the tribal lands.

272 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEK XXVII.

A ZAMBO VILLAGE.

'WHAT here — what dar? Lib here, paper dar.
What place ? Hi ! hi ! dis place Caddo ; colour
genl'men lib in Caddo — hi ! '

Caddo, a village in the Choctaw district, thirty-
two miles north of Eed Eiver, thirty-seven miles
south of Limstone Gap, is a Zambo settlement,
one of the most singular hamlets in a country full
of ethnological surprises. A scatter of log-cabins,
standing in fenced fields, surrounds a little town,
with school and prison, chapel and masonic lodge,
main street and market-place, billiard-room and
drinking -bar. A line of rails connects this little
town with Fort Gibson, in the Creek region, and
with Denison city, in Texas. Caddo can boast
of a printing-press and of a weekly sheet of news.
Yet neither school nor prison, railway plant nor
printing-press excites so much attention as the

A ZAMBO VILLAGE. 273

marvel in the ruts and tracks. The people of Caddo
are the sight of sights ; these cabins in the fields and
nearly all these shanties in the town being tenanted
by the new race of mixed bloods known to science
as Zambos — the offspring of Negro bucks and Indian
squaws.

According to Tschudi's List of Half-castes, a
White father and a Negro mother produce a Mu
latto ; a White father and an Indian mother pro
duce a Mestizo; an Indian father and a Negro
mother produce a Chino ; a Negro father and an
Indian mother produce a Zambo. These four hy
brids are the primary mixed breeds of America.

A Mulatto is coffee -coloured ; a Mestizo is ruddy-
gold ; a Chino is dirty-red; a Zambo is dirty-
brown.

A White father and Mulatto mother produce the
Quadroon ; a White father and Mestiza mother the
Creole. Quadroons and Creoles, though dark and
coarse, are sometimes beautiful, and in a state of
servitude young females of these families always
fetched more money than a Turkish pasha gave for
his Georgian slave. A Negro father and ^Mulatto
mother produce a Cubra, and a Cubra is an ugly
VOL. i. T

274 WHITE CONQUEST.

mongrel. In another generation the original Negro
type returns. Not so with the Indian family. An
Indian father and a Mestiza mother produce the
Mestizo-claro — often a handsome specimen of the
human animal. But Indian blood appears to mix
imperfectly with Black. The Chino is a lanky and
ungainly fellow, and his half-brother, the Zambo, is
uglier still. Nature, one imagines, never meant
these families to mix. A breed so droll in figure
and complexion as the Zambo imps who sprawl and
wallow in these ruts is hardly to be matched on
earth.

Yet these ugly creatures are said to be prolific.
Every cabin in Caddo shows a brood of imps ; and
if the new school of ethnologists are right, they may-
increase more rapidly than the ordinary Blacks.
What sort of mongrels shall we find at Caddo
in a hundred years? If she is left alone, Caddo
may yield a family on the pattern of Los Angelos
and San Jose, and give a line of heroes like Tiburcio
Yasquez to the ranch men of Eed Eiver and Lime
stone Gap.

At Caddo, then, we have some means of study
ing the two questions of Colour and Servitude in

A ZAMBO VILLAGE. 275

their most primitive stages — each in a phase not
seen at Eichmond, Charleston, and New Orleans.

Before the war broke out, all Negroes living on
the Indian soil were slaves. They were the property
of Creek and Choetaw, Seminole, Chickasaw, and
Cherokee — the five nations which are said to be
' reclaimed from their savage state.' Their lot was
hard, their suffering sharp ; no harder lot, no sharper
suffering, known on earth. In other places servi
tude is softened by some tie of race, of language,
or of creed. At Pekin the slaves and their masters-
are of one colour ; at Cairo they speak the same
language ; at Eio they worship a common God ; but
in these Indian wastes, a Negro had neither the same
features, the same phrases, nor the same covenants
with his savage lord ; no common interest in the
present world, no common hope in that which is to
come.

Can mind of man conceive a lot in life more
wretched than that of being a Eed man's slave ?

To be a White man's thrall was bad enough ; but
on the worst plantation in Georgia and Alabama
there were elements of tenderness and justice never
to be found in the best of Cherokee and Serninole

T 2

276 WHITE CONQUEST.

•camps. In Georgia and Alabama ladies were always
near, and children constantly in sight. A civilised
and Christian society lay around. People lived by
law, and even where cruel masters abounded
most, the forces of society were on the side of
rule and right. No Negro in Virginia lived be
yond the sound of village bells and of the silent
teaching of a Day of Eest. No slave in Louisiana
was a stranger to the grace and order of domestic
life. What sacred sounds were heard in a Choctaw
lodge ? What charm of life was seen in a Chickasaw
tent ? In every Indian camp the squaws behaved in
a harsher manner towards the Negro than their brutal
spouses ; and instead of an Indian child acting as a
check on cruelty, his presence often led to the
slave being pinched and kicked, so that the
young brave might learn to gloat over the sight
of men in pain. A slave in Tennessee might have
a careless master, but this master was a man
of settled habits, and amenable to public courts.
He was no wandering savage, living by the chase,
and governing his household with a hatchet and a
scalping-knife. A White owner might be hasty, his
overseer vindictive ; but the men were citizens sub-

A ZAMBO VILLAGE. 277

ject to the law, and Christians subject to the censure
of their Church. On every side some limit to abuse
was drawn. But where, in Seminole tent or Cherokee
lodge, was an injured slave to find a limit to his
wrongs? A Seminole had no judge to fear, a
Cherokee no pastor to consult. Within his tribe and
territory, an Indian chief might glut his anger on a
slave as freely as if he were a king of Ashantee. No
sheriff asked of him his brother's blood. No public
sentiment restrained his arm. When he was roused
to wrath, an Indian cared no more for what men
might say of him than a tiger thinks of public
opinion in the jungle when he makes his spring.
A Eed savage had more freedom to ill-use his slave
than any Pale-face has to hurt his dog.

Yet, while Eed men and Black men were
left alone, these Negroes seemed doomed for ever
to serve the masters who were but a shade less dusky
than themselves.

While sauntering in and out, among the stores
and yards at Caddo, we chance to kick an ant-hill,
and disturb the small red warriors in their nest.

Like all the South and West, this .dry and sunny
spot is rich in ants — red, black, and yellow ants —

278 WHITE CONQUEST.

among them the variety known as Amazon ants.
All ants appear to live in tribes and nations, under
rules which never change. Like Indians they have
their ranks and orders — patriarchal, military, servile ;
and like Indians they hold their property in a
common lot. The patriarchs, set apart as fathers
and mothers, live an easy life, and pass away when
they have done their part. These chiefs among the
ants are winged. They soar and pair, eat up the
choicest food, and die with mandibles unstained
by vulgar toil. Next in rank come the soldiers ;
ants with strong mandibles, but no wings. Lowest
in order stand the serfs or bondmen. Food must
be sought, and chambers bored ; wherefore a major
ity of ants are serfs, and all these servile ants are
squaws. No male ant ever earns his bread. Scorn
ing to delve and spin, he asks his female architects
to build his cell, and sends his female foragers to
seek his food. These servile squaws, arrested in
their growth, and having neither wings nor ovaries,
are content to drudge and slave. But Amazon
ants have souls above these ordinary squaws.
The Amazons would rather fight than drudge, and,
like all fighting creatures, they become the owners

A ZAMBO VILLAGE. 279

of such poor species as would rather drudge than

die.

A colony of black ants usually settles near a
colony of red. Does Nature mean her duskier
children to be seized and made to labour for the
fairer kinds ? The red ants hunt them down. A
red ant is no bigger in body, no stronger in mandi
ble, than a black ant ; yet the Amazons always
beat their duskier sisters and enslave their brood.
Is this result a consequence of their coats being
red?

Who knows the mystery of colour ? By consent
of every age and country black has been adopted as
a sign of woe and servitude. 'All faces shall
gather blackness,' cries the prophet, ' in the day of
wrath.' In Spain the unpardoned sinner was ar
rayed in a black robe. In England the judge who
passes sentence of death puts on a black cap. A
Euss peasant called his lord the White Tsar, and his
old fellow-serfs the Black People. In Turkey a Jew
had to wear a black turban. In Bretagne, Navarre,
and Connaught the remnants of darker races scowl
in hate and fear on their more civilised and prosper
ous countrymen of a fairer race. A common mode

280 WHITE CONQUEST.

of thought suggests the presence of an underlying
law.

What law? Are shades of colour, grades of
power?

In every part of Europe people in the upper
ranks are fairer than people in the lower ranks. In
Spain and Sicily, countries mostly occupied by a
swarthy race, the leading families are fair. One
rule holds good on the Danube and on the Dneiper.
Nearly all the Muscovite princes and princesses are
blonde. Venice is the home of raven hair, yet this
artistic city has an upper class with blue eyes and
golden locks. In Styria, in Bavaria, in Switzerland,
the better blood is almost always wedded to the
lighter skin. All through the South of Europe,
where the masses are dark, the kings and emperors
are pale. The kings of Spain, Italy, and Greece are
fair. The emperors of Austria and Eussia are fair.
The royal families of England, Belgium, Holland,
Denmark, and Sweden are exceptionally fair. The
conquerors of Sadowa and Sedan are very fair. The
Pope is fair. The Sultan is fairer than the ordi
nary Turk. The Shah of Persia, and the Khedive of
Egypt, are comparatively fair. The Emperor of

A 2.AMBO VILLAGE. 281

Brazil is fair. No white people serve a dusky ruler,
and no aristocratic class is black.

As in the sphere of men, so in the sphere of
ants — colour appears to be an outward sign of
sway. A red ant makes the black ant toil for him,
but no red ant has ever yet been found, except as
an invader, in a black ant's nest. A red ant may
be slain in fight, but he will rather fall in war than
live in the position of a slave.

The Creek and Choctaw yoked the Negroes, as
the red ants yoke the black. When a colony of
Amazons need more serfs to drudge for them, they
organise a foray, march into a black ant-hill,
overturn and scatter the defending force, and carry
off the eggs and grubs. Old ants, likely to give
trouble, are left behind. So happened with Semi-
noles and Creeks. The Indians stole or bought
the Negro child. A Negro who was used to a plan
tation could never fall into Indian ways. He missed
his meeting-house and village inn, his cane-brake
and his evening dance. If he were taken young, a
Negro might be trained, as a black ant is trained,
to be a useful drudge.

282 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XXVIII.

SAVAGE SLAVERY.

To own a batcli of Negroes was the aim of every
Creek and Seminole chief. Negroes, like squaws,
were evidence of his wealth and rank ; more grate
ful in his eyes than squaws, as being a property
which he held in common with the Whites. In
early days he had lived in Georgia or Carolina,
where the society was divided into free men and
bondmen. He and his brethren of the tribe were
free, and only the less martial and more dusky race
were bond. Acquainted with the Pale men's ways,
he paid them the moral tribute of walking in their
steps, but, with the instinct of a savage, he only
bought his slaves when he could not carry them off
by stealth.

When a Creek or Seminole chief was driven by
the White planters from his hunting-grounds in

SAVAGE SLAVERY. 283

Georgia and Tennessee, lie took the Negroes in his
camp along with him, compelling them to share the
misery of his long march, and brave the perils of
his new and distant home.

Such ills as fell on the Red savage fell with
sevenfold fury on his slave. A Negro was no
better in an Indian's eyes than a mule. In rain
and wind he had to lie outside the tent. When
game ran short he had to feed on garbage and
to starve. All base and menial offices were thrust on
him. A squaw is seldom kind to any creature
weaker than herself, and every Negro slave was
governed by a squaw. With gibe and curse she sent
him to his task ; with pinch and cuff she lashed him
to his yoke. Herself a beast of burden, she had no
compassion for the servile drudge who, bought or
stolen like herself, could hardly say his lot was
heavier than her own. She made him moil and
sweat. In her poetic idiom he had to march in
his sleep, and bruise his feet against flint and rock.
If he rebelled in either word or glance, a cudgel
made him leap and grin. If he returned the blow
a hatchet sliced his poll. A White man rarely
killed his slave. A Eedskin, when his anger rose,

284 WHITE CONQUEST.

would slay his Negro just as readily as he brained
and scalped his foe.

Yet such is the fecundity of men in servitude,
that the Negroes grew in numbers under all their
wrongs ; and that so rapidly that in twenty or
twenty-five years they promised to out-count their
savage owners. No attempts were made to breed
them, as in Carolina and Virginia, for the markets.
Young and pretty Negresses were swept into the
wigwam ; old and ugly women, whether Black or
Eed, were handed over to these dusky swains. Yet
while the hunters brought plenty of food into the
camps, the Negro race increased in all the Indian
nations. When war broke out, the Seminoles had a
thousand slaves ; the Cherokees and Chickasaws had
each about fifteen hundred slaves ; the Creeks and
Choctaws had each about three thousand slaves.

In these Eed nations there were less than fourteen
thousand full-blooded Indians to ten thousand Negro
slaves. The Indians were fading fast, the Negroes
were increasing fast.

These Negroes were a danger and a curse to

each of the five Eed nations. A sentiment
growing up on every side, which the Eedskins were

SAVAGE SLAVERY. 285

unable to repulse by tomahawk and scalping-knife.
Kansas, their immediate neighbour on the north,
was Free Soil. The settlements in their rear were
rising into Free States. From time to time Free
'Boilers came into their hunting-grounds, sniffing the
air, glancing at the slaves, and threatening the
.savages with a war of liberation.

Long before war broke out, such chiefs as Jack
Boss, White Catcher, and Lucy Mouse were exercised
in mind about 'the great institution of African
slavery.' From Eichmond and New Orleans they
heard that one object of the North was to annul this
institution in the Indian lands, to make these Indian
lands Free Soil, and in the end to plant free cities on
the site of Indian camps. Catcher and Mouse talked
big, and Boss, an older and shrewder chief, advised
his braves to secretly whet their knives.

War came. The solution of a great and difficult
social problem was committed to the sword. Then
Jefferson Davis sent an agent to the Indian lodges,
with the object of exciting Creek and Choctaw fears,
and drawing the Indian chiefs into a league with the
Confederate States.

Albert Pike, this agent, was in figure and repute

286 WHITE CONQUEST.

adapted for his work. A man of portly frame and
rosy face, he wore a veil of silver hair, which
hung about his neck in clouds ; giving him the jovial
look of youth combined with the aspect of a sage.
A clerk, a poet, an attorney, a scout, a trapper, a
school teacher, a cavalry officer, a journalist — Pike
had tried all trades and seen the world on many
sides. In riding hard, in drinking deep, in talking
big, few men were equal to Albert Pike. Some
verses from his pen have won repute, even in
England, notably his Ode to the Mocking Bird and
his Hymns to the Gods. Having spent some years
of his life on the Eed Eiver and the Arkansas, he
knew the Light Horse and the Pin League, and was
a master in all the arts and artifices necessary for
the seduction of savage tribes.

Eiding from camp to camp, Pike told the warriors
that the old Union under which they had lived
was gone ; gone like the old Indian League of the
Six Nations, never to be renewed on earth. The
flag was rent to shreds, the flagstaff snapt in two.
The gentry of the South could never again join hands
with the hucksters of the North. He bade them
choose their side. Slavery, he said, was the corner-

RAVAGE SLAVERY. 287

stone of the new Confederacy ; and pointing to a
group of Negro slaves, he asked them whether they
would not cast in their lot with the planters of Georgia
and Louisiana, rather than with the traders of Boston
and New York. ' You may have had some cause in
former times to rail against the planters,' he remarked,
'but in this new war your interests and your
destinies are inseparably connected with those of the
South. The war is one of Northern cupidity and
fanaticism against African slavery, commercial
freedom, and political liberty.'

To gain his ends, Pike had recourse to other
means. Cavour had the merit of seeing that his
countrymen wanted two good things — a common
banner and a cheap cigar. His offer of Italian
Unity might have failed without the ' Cavour *
cigar at five cents. So with Albert Pike. When
argument failed him with the Eedskins, Pike threw

o

his whisky-flask into the scale.

No want is so imperious to the Indian as a free
market for intoxicating drink. A right to buy and
sell slaves affected a few chiefs only, while a right
to buy and sell ardent spirits is the desire of every
man and woman in the Indian camps.

288 WHITE CONQUEST.

By offering to secure the Indians free trade in
.slaves and whisky, Albert Pike secured a great
majority of voices for the South.

Opothleyolo, a Creek chief, tried to stem the
tide, believing that this Slave Commissioner was
drawing his people into a snare — that is to say,
into a conflict with the stronger power. He spent
his eloquence in vain. A cry of ' Slaves and Whisky '
filled his camp ; and when the chief withdrew to
Bushey Creek, near Verdigris Eiver, he was followed
by a cloud of warriors yelling for free trade in slaves
and whisky, and was driven to fall back for safety
on the White settlements of Kansas.

Article ninety-seven of the treaty of alliance
signed by Jack Eoss on behalf of the Cherokee nation,
and by Albert Pike on behalf of the Confederate
States, contains this clause :

' It is hereby declared and agreed that the
Institution of Slavery in the said nation is legal, and
has existed from time immemorial ; that slaves are
taken and esteemed to be personal property ; that
the title to slaves and other property having its
origin in the said Nation shall be determined by the
laws and customs thereof; and that the slaves and

SAVAGE SLAVERY. 289-

other personal property of every person domiciled
in said Nation shall pass and bo distributed, at
his or her death, in accordance with the laws and
customs of the said Nation, which may be proved
like foreign laws, usages, and customs, and shall
everywhere be held binding within the scope of
their operation.'

Even from the pen of Albert Pike such pas
sages come as a surprise. Slavery in the Indian
nation legal ! Why, the Indians had no code, and
slavery had never been sanctioned by a public Act.
Slavery existing among Eed men from time im
memorial ! Why, slavery was absolutely unknown
to any Indian tribe in the days of Boss's grand
father.

No such falsehoods were inserted by Confederate
agents in the Acts which from their nature must be
read in Europe. Davis was extremely cautious in
his words. He spoke of slavery as a fact— but only
as a fact. Stephens, a bolder man, advancing from
the sphere of facts into that of principles, asserted
that Negro slavery ' was based on a great physical,
philosophical, and moral truth ' ; but Stephens never
ventured to proclaim that Negro slavery had existed

VOL. i. u

.290 WHITE CONQUEST.

from time immemorial on the American continent.
In fact, this fervid orator, convinced that the rule
proposed by him had no historical basis, actually
announced his theory of the corner-stone as a ' new
truth,' the latest ' development of time,' which his
Government was ' the first to write on a national
flag.'

Inspired by love of drink and lust of slaves, five
thousand Indian warriors, armed with knife and
hatchet, rallied to the flag set up by Pike, who
dropt his civil rank as Indian Commissioner, and
put on hat and feather, lace and sword, as
General Pike. Two armies, acting under Curtis and
Van Dorn, were on the frontier — an army of the
North under Curtis, an army of the South under
Van Dorn. By orders from the War Office in
Eichrnond, Pike led his warriors to the aid of Yon
Dorn, which movement threw a touch of comedy
into the fierce and indecisive battle of Pea Eidge.

So long as the Eedskins lolled on parade they
liked their business well. Their pay was high, their
food good, and Pike was not too pressing on the
score of drill. Whisky was plentiful in camp. But
when the enemy drew near and opened his big guns,

SAVAGE SLAVERY. ?9r

these children of the forest broke and ran. Brave
as they are in fight, the Indian cannot face the roar
and wrack of serious war. They made a rush ; but,
met with volleys, they recoiled. All sounds and
sights were new to them. Hardly one Indian in
ten had heard a cannon fired. Not one Indian in
fifty had seen a rocket. Shells appeared to them
shooting-stars. Their whoop could not be heard for
noise; their foes could not be seen for smoke.
Even when they dodged behind oaks and pines
they were not safe. Shells burst among the trees,
and splinters crashed about their heads. What
could these children of the forest do but crouch
on the ground, cover their bodies with sand and
stones, and wait until the night came down ?

At dusk they stole into the field, and passing
through the sleeping soldiers, scalped the dying and
the dead, and carried off their trophies to the camp.
These were the only blows the Indians ever struck
for the possession of their Negro slaves.

Next day the scalpless men were found by
burying-parties, and a cry rose up from both Ame
rican camps against employment of such savages.
Curtis sent a message to Van Dorn, and to avoid

292 WHITE CONQUEST.

retaliation, tlie Confederate General was obliged to
order liis Eed contingent to go home.

Pike lost his lace and feathers, and his Creek
and Cherokee warriors had to stand aside, solaced
by whisky, till the White men who were quarrelling
among themselves over Black rights and wrongs,
had settled under the walls of Eichmond whether a
Eedskin living on the Arkansas should, or should
not, continue to hold his Black brother in a state
of servitude.

When Eichmond fell the slaves in fifty Indian
camps were free.

293

CHAPTER XXIX.

IN CADDO.

'TiiE Negro slaves were free ; but free in a separate
Indian country, in the midst of savage Indian camps !

In President Lincoln's proclamation not a word
was said about the ten thousand Negroes who were
then living as slaves on Indian soil. This country
lies beyond the Pale. Only ten months after the
battle of Pea Eidge the proclamation of freedom
came out, but the heat and burthen of the strife had
been so great on other fields, that people had for
gotten how the war-whoop and the scalping-knife
had been employed on Pea Eidge. In fact, the
Eed man's slaves were overlooked.

Alone with their late owners, and beyond the
reach of help from Washington, what were the
liberated slaves to do ? In theory they were free ;
in substance they were only free to starve. They
had no tents, no guns, no ponies. Not an acre of

294 WHITE CONQUEST.

the land belonged to them, nor had they now a
place within the tribe. While they were overlooked
on the Potomac, these Negroes found no change in
their condition on the Arkansas and Eed Biver.
They are a feeble folk, these coloured people ;,
and their masters, though unwilling to face small
bodies of White men, are ready to fight any number
of Blacks. When news arrived at Fort Gibson
and Fort Scott that the war was over and the
Negroes emancipated, the Cherokee and Choctaw
masters yielded with a sullen fury to their loss.
They kicked the liberated Negroes from their
camp.

Beyond the reach of help from Boston and New
York, even if Boston and New York had means of
helping them, how were the Blacks to live ? In
theory they were now free ; but having neither
tents nor lodges, where could they find a shelter from
the snow arid rain ? Without guns and ponies, how
were they to follow deer and elk? They had no
nets for taking fish, no snares for catching birds.
Having no place in any Indian tribe, they had no
right to stay on any of the tribal lands. Nor were
they dowered with the invention and resources of

IN CADDO. 29$

men accustomed to the fight for life. Brought up
with squaws, they had the ways of squaws. Set
to dig roots, to cut wood, to pitch and pack tents,
to dry and cure skins, they might dawdle through
the day, sulking at their toil and muttering oaths
below their breath. But with the task imposed
on them they stopped. From labour of a larger
kind, and from adventure with a dash of peril,
they recoiled in laziness and fright. A Negro
seldom rode a horse. Not many Negroes knew the-
use of firearms. Slaves were never trained by
Indians to the chase ; for hunting was the trade of
freeborn braves, the pastime of warriors, seers and
chiefs. A Negro rarely marched with the young
braves, and never learnt to lie in wait for scalps. In
Creek and Seminole creeds, a Negro was a squaw>
and not a brave.

A life of servitude unfits a man for independent
arts. Helpless as a pony or a papoose, the Negro
was now cut adrift. While he remained a slave he
had a place in tent and tribe, as part of a chiefs
family ; having ceased to be a slave, he lost his
right of counting in the lodge, and sank into the
grade of outcast. He belonged to no one. As an

296 WHITE CONQUEST.

alien he had no place in the system, and the
country spewed him forth, a waif and stray, whom
any man might chase and kill. For him there was
no law, no court, no judge. In every other part
of the United States a Negro was protected in his
freedom; but the Indian country is a separate
commonwealth, in which the White man's law has
no effect. A Eedskin has his rules ; and while the
Black men linger on his soil they must submit,
even though the Redskin's rule should be enforced
with poisoned arrow, pony-hoof, and salted fire.

The Creeks and Cherokees have borrowed some
of the forms of civilised communities. They have
assemblies, more or less comic ; they have schools
and justice-rooms, more or less comic. Some of
the chiefs are hankering after private property in
land. A few seem not unwilling that their
boys should learn the English alphabet and the
Christian Catechism. But none of these good things
are open to the liberated slave, who still remains on
Indian territory. A Negro casts no vote. He may
not send his child to school, or ask a hearing in
the justice-room. He never owns a rood of soil.
When kicked from the Indian lodge, as an in-

AV CADDO. 297

trader, lie is left to find such food and shelter as
the waste supplies. Naked and free he wanders
into space ; he and the poor old squaw whom they
have given to him as a wife. He dares not squat
on Indian ground, for though the President pro
nounces him a free man, his recent master has
the power to kill him as before, and neither judge
nor sheriff would attach that master for his blood.

What wonder that the liberated Negroes melt
from the Indian soil, much as a herd of ponies turned
into the waste might melt from the soil ?

Some hundreds of these emancipated slaves
have fled across the frontier into Arkansas and
Texas ; trusting to the White man's sense of jus
tice for protection in the commoner sort of civil
rights. But as a rule the poorer people in a
district cannot seek new homes. Like plants and
animals, they must brave their lot or sink into the
soil. To many fugitives from Choctaw lodges and
Chickasaw tents, Caddo has become a home.

The site on which these outcasts have squatted
is a piece of ground abandoned by the Caddoes, a
small and wandering tribelet, who in former days
whipt these creeks for fish and raked these woods

298 WHITE CONQUEST.

for game. Beduced in numbers, the Caddoes have
moved into the Washita region, leaving their ancient
hunting-fields to the coyotes and wolves. In theory
the district lies in Choctaw country, but the
Choctaws never occupied this valley, and the coming
in of railway men, with teams and tools, induced
the nearer families to move their lodges farther back.
Caddo, abandoned to the iron horse and liberated
slave, became a town. A Negro has no legal right
to squat in Caddo, but squatting is the game of
folks who stand outside the ordinary law. Others,
besides unemancipated slaves, show a taste for
squatting. Have we not here the ' Oklahoma Star/
edited by a man who is neither Choctaw, Negro,
nor Zambo, but a free rover of the waste, a literary
Bob Eoy ?

Barring accidents, the 'Star' comes out once
a week. On asking for last week's issue we learn
that no paper appeared last Friday morning, ' owing
to the illness of our printer.' Some experience of
the press having taught me that press faults are
always due to the printer, I enquire no further,
but on turning to the current sheet my eyes rest
on a paragraph which explains the matter. Gran-

IN CADDO. 299

ville McPlierson appears to be editor of the ' Star/
and Granville McPlierson was at Fort Washita last
week, on his wedding trip. These facts I find
announced to the people of Caddo, and to all the
happy hunting-fields between Eed Eiver and Lime
stone Gap :

' When, in the course of human events, it becomes
necessary for the editor of a public journal to
chronicle to an anxious and waiting world the glad
tidings of his own nuptials, modesty would dictate
that it be done in as few words as the solemnity of
the occasion will admit. Adhering to this principle,
we will simply say that on the eighteenth instant,
at Fort Washita, C. N. Granville McPlierson, of the
Indian Territory, and Mrs. Lydia Star Hunter, of
Oskaloosa, were united in the holy bonds of matri
mony. . . . Well, strange things will happen
sometimes, and why not with us as well any ? '

Strange things will happen ! Yes, strange things
indeed. To gain a right of settlement in the Choc-
taw country, Granville McPlierson should have
taken to himself a Choctaw bride, instead of whom
he has married Mrs. Star Hunter, of Oskaloosa, Iowa.
Granville has fallen to his fate. How could an

3co WHITE CONQUEST.

editor of the c Oklahoma Star ' escape being run
down, when a widow called Mrs. Star Hunter was in
chase ?

Caddo, as might be expected from her origin, is
radical, not to say revolutionary, in her politics. The
Negroes and their Zambo offspring not being Indians,
and having no part in the Indian system, the people
of Caddo wish to change the whole existing order
of things — the separate Indian nationality ; the distri
bution of Indians into tribes and families; the exclu
sion of strangers from the Indian country ; the
abolition of Indian blood-feuds, despotic chiefs, and
the common property in land.

6 What do you want to have done by way of
change ? ' I ask a Negro politician.

6 By way of change ? ' replies the Black radical.
* Let us change everything. We want to put down
tribes, to found a regular government, to open the
Territory to labour and capital, to abolish the rule of
chiefs, the sale of squaws, and the common pro
perty in land. That's what we want for others ; but
we want a few things also for ourselves. Well, hear
me out. As yet we have acquired no rights. You find
us here in Caddo, but we are living here by sufferance,

IN CADDO. 301

not by right. We have no title in our fields. At
any hour we may be driven away, without being
paid a cent for the improvements we have made/

' Some of the Choctaw chiefs tell me they will
act justly towards you/

c Yes ; so they may ; but who will make them ?
We require a good deal more than promises from
chiefs. We want the right to vote, the right to
hold offices, the right to own land, the right to sit
on juries, the right to send our lads to school. We
should like to have these rights secured to us by
Acts of Congress, not by promises of Choctaw
chiefs/

Such are the politics of Caddo, a hamlet peopled
by Negroes and Zambos ; such the principles of the
'Oklahoma Star,' a paper edited by a journalistic
Eob Eoy.

302 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER XXX.

OKLAHOMA.

OKLAHOMA is the name proposed by Creek and
Cherokee radicals for the Indian countries, when
the tribes shall have become a people, and the hunt
ing grounds a State. Enthusiasts, like Adair and
Boudinot, dream of such a time. These Indians can
not heal their tribal wounds, nor get their sixteen
thousand Cherokees to live in peace ; yet they in
dulge the hope of reconciling Creek and Seminole,
Choctaw and Chickasaw, under a common rule and
a single flag. Still more, their hearts go out into a
•day when tribes still wild and pagan — Cheyennes,
Apaches, Kiowas, and other Bad Faces — will have
ceased to lift cattle and steal squaws, will have
buried the hatchet and scalping-knife, and will have
learned to read penny fiction and to drink whisky
like White men.

That day is yet a long way off.

OKLAHOMA. 303

A ' new policy ' has just been adopted by
President Grant towards the Eed men, with a view to
their more speedy settlement and conversion. This
policy is founded on Franciscan experience, but
adapted to the principles of a secular state, and the
existing order of things. In future, the Indians are
to be received and marked as ' wards.' Driven
by bayonets into nooks and corners, they are now
placed under the guidance of certain sects, who feed
and teach them, and under the inspection of certain
captains, who watch and shoot them, should they be
caught roaming across the paper lines. The teachers,
anxious to please the sects and 'justify the ways of
God,' have created an ideal Indian country, smiling
•with imaginary ranches, gardens, schools, and
churches. Every Indian reservation has a ' school
fund ' on paper, and in some settlements there are
actual sheds called schools. The captains tell another
tale. These captains have no theories to support.
When a white ranch has been violated, as at Snake
Eiver, or a white family scalped, as at Smoky Hill,
they have to chase and fight the savages. Illusions
find no place in a frontier post. Now, it is the
short and simple truth to say that — so far as my ex-

304 WHITE CONQUEST.

perience reaches — no officer who has served on the
Plains believes that any full-blooded Indian can be
civilised.

A Bed man cannot understand a White man's law.

Take the last decision of Chief Justice
Waite and his learned brethren of the Supreme
Court, and ask how either a Creek or Cherokee,
not to say an Osage or a Kickapoo, is to compre
hend such law ? Years ago the Indians, as the
weaker party, became subject to a general law of
removal by the State from one point to another. If
their hunting grounds were wanted by White farmers,
they were forced to move ; but their right and pro
perty in the soil were not denied, and something like
a fair exchange of lands was always offered to them.
On quitting Georgia, the Cherokees obtained a better
country on the Verdigris. In place of their old
home, the Creeks and Choctaws got hunting-grounds
along the Arkansas. The Senecas got the Alleghany ;
the Oneidas, Green Bay. The Omahas received lands
on the Missouri, the Crows on Yellowstone, the
Shoshones on the Snake. No tribe was ever driven
from home, except on promise of a finer camping-
ground elsewhere. From Penn and Ogle, therefore,

OKLAHOMA. 305

to Story and Chace, no one has denied that the
original title in the land lay with the Ked men.

But Waite and his learned brethren have wrought
a sudden change. These magistrates have decided
that the Indians are not owners of the soil, gene
rally, or even holders of the fee in their own lands.
The true proprietor, they assert, is the Government
of the United States !

No Creek, no Choctaw can be made to seize the
maxims on which Waite proceeds, but the most be
nighted Indian can understand that his field is not his
own, that he is only a tenant on the land, and that
he must no longer cut and sell a pine.

Under the < new policy,' which turns the Eed war
into pious idyls, and confiscates the whole Indian
country to the Government, the Indians are displayed
for public approval in four great classes :

' First. Those that are wild and scarcely tract
able to any extent beyond that of coming near
enough to the Government agent to receive blankets
and rations.

' Second. Indians who are thoroughly convinced
of the necessity of labour, and are actually under-
VOL. i. x

306 WHITE CONQUEST.

taking it, and with more or less readiness accept the
direction and assistance of Government agents to
this end.

' Third. Indians who have come into possession
of all lands and other property in stock and im
plements belonging to a landed estate.

' Fourth. A class of roamers and vagrants.'
The first class in this division is said to contain
ninety- eight thousand souls, including, amongst
others, Sioux, Utes, Apaches, Kiowas, Cheyennes,
Comanches and Arapahoes. The second class is
supposed to contain about fifty-two thousand souls,
including, amongst others, Osages, Kickapoos, Pai-
Utes, Shoshones, Pawnees, and Navajos. The third
class is believed to number a hundred thousand
souls, including, amongst others, Creeks, Choctaws,
Cherokees, Seminoles, and Chippewas. The fourth
class is more difficult to estimate ; but it is guessed
at twenty or thirty thousand souls, including, amongst
others, Winnebagoes, Sacs, Pottawatomies, and
such broken up bands of Shoshones and Utes
as those of Labeta and Cornea. Such classes
and figures may amuse the sectaries, who are now
trying on the Plains the great Christian experiment

OKLAHOMA. 3o7

which the Franciscans tried in California. But the
Classification is too vague and weak for practical life,
and is thrust aside by men who have to deal with
living facts.

These practical men know two Indian classes
only —

I. Wild Indians.
II. Half- wild Indians.

All the great families and tribes are wild : Sioux,
Utes, Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Navajos, and the like.
These are the Eed men who have never been sub
dued and fixed. Pagan, predatory, and nomadic,
these Indians count about two hundred thousand
souls ; and are the true Eed men, unmixed witli
alien blood, untouched by alien creeds.

The second class contains the smaller Indian
families, who, from contact with White men, have
been half-subdued and fixed: Mission Indians of
California, Pueblo Indians of Arizona, Senecas in
New York, Chippewas in Michigan, Winnebagoes
in Nebraska, Choctaws. and Cherokees in Okla
homa, and their fellows everywhere. These Indians,
mostly surrounded by White settlers, count about

x 2

3o8 WHITE CONQUEST.

a hundred thousand souls, the salvage of mighty
nations which have passed away. They have been,
tamed a little, and thinned off very much. In fact,
an Indian fears White ' customs,' chiefly because he
finds that the first step taken in our civilisation is a
step towards his physical ruin and moral death.

Colonel Stevens, an officer with much experience
of savage life, tells me he was employed on the Plains,
as Government engineer, to build a number of stone
houses for the Indian chiefs. These tenements were
designed as baits to catch their tribes. In six months
all his tenements were gone, sold to the White men
for a few kegs of whisky. One big chief, Long
Antelope, kept his house, and Stevens rode to see
their chief as being a man of higher hope than others
of his race. He found Long Antelope smoking
in a tent pitched near the window of his house.

' Why living in a tent, Long Antelope, when
you have a good house ? '

Long Antelope smiled. ' House good for pony,
no good for warrior — ugh ! '

Stevens went in, and found Long Antelopes
pony stalled in the dining-room.

_' A house,' says Stevens, ' is too much for a full

OKLAHOMA. 309

blood Indian's brain. The only notion you can get
into such a fellow's head, is, that to settle down
means to wrap his shoulders in a warm blanket
instead of in a skin, to loaf about the Agency instead
of going out to hunt, and to spend his time in
smoking and drinking instead of in taking scalps/

310 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER

EED AND BLACK.

* You fear the full-bloods cannot be reclaimed ? ' I
ask Colonel Stevens.

' I never knew a pure Indian settle down to
any kind of work. He is a hunter and a warrior,,
and to touch a spade or plough is to soil his noble
hands. The Mestizos have a chance ; though they
are weighted by their savage blood. They start
well, for their father is, in almost every case, a
White.'

On crossing from the Creek country to the Choctaw
country, by way of the Canadian river, we arrive at
a store and mill, kept by a brave Scot, named
McAlister. A rolling prairie spreads around, with
pines and cedars on the heights, and rivulets
trickling here arid there. McAlister came into the
Indian land by chance. The country pleased him,
and, unlike his countryman, McPherson, of Caddo,.

RED AND BLACK. 3n

he settled down legally on the soil by taking a
Choctaw wife, and getting himself adopted by the
tribe. McAlister, like a brave Scot, has bought and
sold, scraped and saved. From flour to whisky,
everything that an Indian wants to buy, McAlister
has to sell. By adding field to field, and farm to-
farm, McAlister is getting nearly all the land of this
Frame into his own hands. In time his ranch will
be a town ; that town will bear his name.

' These White intruders have no trouble in
marrying Indian wives ? ' I ask a friend in the
Chickasaw nation.

6 In marrying Indian wives ! You talk of marri
age like a White. Marry — ha, ha ! Not many of
these fellows go to church. An Indian's notion of
marriage is the theft or purchase of a squaw. Fut
down your money, and you have your pick of his
lodge, without the blessing of a parson or the
signature of a clerk. For twenty dollars you can
buy a girl, and claim, through her, adoption by the
tribe.'

' Is the adoption easy ? '

' Very easy. As a rule, the adoption goes with
the Indian girl. If any Bad face makes a row, a

312 WHITE CONQUEST.

keg of whisky sets things straight. Whisky is
King.'

Nearer to Bed Eiver, in a green bottom, with a
wooded ridge on either side, we find a White ranch ;
a house with fence and garden, in which a Pale-face
lives with his Indian bride. The man is Bob Beams,
a brother of the American sculptress Vinnie Beams.
Bob came into this valley, bought a Chickasaw wife,
and settled in the tribe, where he has managed
to annex no little of the soil. The valley bears his
name. His wife, whom he delights to call the
Princess, is a tall, lithe woman ; and his Mestizo son,
Young Bob, has wild antelope eyes. Squaw Beams
is said to put on war-paint now and then. Some
months ago Bob got into trouble at a whisky bar,
and was lodged in jail, on which his Princess went
out, morally, on the war path. ' Bob in jail? Then
he's a failure ! ' cried his squaw, and no little force
had to be used by her kith and kin to prevent her
from quitting his ranch, renouncing her allegiance,
and returning to her savage life.

' Only one man in four among the Cherokees is
now of pure blood,' says Boudinot. Billy Boss,
though representing Indian legends and traditions,

RED AND BLACK. 313

is a mongrel. Frank Overton, the Chickasaw chief,
is a mongrel, and a handsome fellow. In these half-
wild tribes the chiefs are nearly all of mongrel
blood. The Indians hate these chiefs, but fear them
more than they detest. Not so with the Chino and
the Zambo. These poor creatures are both hated
and despised. No living creature can be held in
greater scorn than a Black man is held by a Eed.

6 Not many weeks ago,' says the son of Strong
Buck, ' I went up to the Capitol, in Washington, to
hear a grand palaver on the policy to be adopted
towards my nation, and I found a Negro in the
Speaker's chair ! ' While saying so, the young Eed
chief is sad ; sad, to use his own phrase, as a wood
in autumn. He knew the Negroes as a servile
race, and the man whom he saw presiding over this
debate, of so much moment to his tribe, had been
a slave. ' A coloured man,' sighs Boudinot, ' and
yesterday a slave ! '

That men of the White race, leaders of old and
mighty States, should sit under a Black fellow and
obey his nod, seems to the son of Strong Buck very
strange. Yet this strange sight was not so galling to
the Cherokee as the fact that a coward and a slave

314 WHITE CONQUEST.

should be seen ruling, even for a moment, the
councils of an assembly which has the power of
dealing with the rights of a people like the Cherokees
— a people untameably brave and irnmemorially free.
' Everyone,' sighs the young Cherokee, c appears
to have rights in this republic except the original
owners of the soil.'

The son of Strong Buck and nephew of Stand
Watie cannot see that this new position of the Negro-
is an accident, not a growth, having no better
foundation than the quicksands of a party vote.
Even if the Cherokee intellect could grasp the situa
tion as a whole, such contrasts as those presented at
Washington and in Talequah would still be great.
A contrast in the Negro's position lies at his gate, and
startles him on passing his frontier line.

To the south of Eed Eiver, a Negro may be any
thing for which he possesses brain enough — from
sweep to senator, from newsboy to Chief Justice,
from railway porter to President. To the north of
that river, in the Indian country, he can never rise
beyond the condition of a waif and stray, even
though he have the brain of Newton. He can
obtain no more right in the soil than a bear or

.RED AND BLACK. 315.

buffalo. South of Bed Kiver he is the pet of a
great party, an object of attention to all parties,
who desire to have the benefit of his vote. North of
Eed Biver, he is the scorn of every buck and squaw,
who still regard him as a beast to be cuffed and
spurned, though he has ceased to be a chattel to
be bought and sold. South of Eed Eiver, no man
can hurt a Negro's dog without being answerable to
the law ; north of Eed Eiver a man may take the
Negro's scalp without being called to answer for his
crime.

What wonder that the Negro moves into the
South, and tries to put Eed Eiver between his scalp
and the impending knife ?

Texas, is not a model country ; in respect of
public order many things may be improved ; yet,
in Texas, since the war, a -Negro has the same
right as any other citizen to a settlement on the
soil. A member of the body politic, he votes,
gives evidence, serves on juries, sends his imps to
school. He owns property and holds office. In
brief, so far as law can make him equal, he is a
White man's peer.

The Eed man seeks in vain to understand why

3i6 WHITE CONQUEST.

the great Father in Washington, who takes away his
own lands and forests, made over to him by treaty, in
exchange for other lands and forests, to be his
own, according to Indian usages, ' as long as grain
grows and water runs/ should give the Black man
so many rights and privileges, that he is everywhere
equal, in many places superior, to the White men.
Creeks and Cherokees give up the puzzle. In Tali-
quah, chief camp of the Cherokees nation, a little
sheet of news is printed by a mixed blood editor,
from which I cut this paragraph — a summary of the
Eed Question, as the matters strike an educated
Cherokee :

' As a people we are not prepared for American
citizenship. Not that we are not sufficiently intelli
gent, or honest, or industrious, or lack much of any
of those substantial qualities which go to make a
person fit to be free anywhere. But that we have
not that training in and experience of those arts of
guile which a condition of freedom authorizes, if it
does not encourage, to be employed against the
unsuspecting — both being equally free to cheat and
be cheated — as a national right.'

RED AND BLACK. 3 '7

In answer to this hint of a perpetual separation
of the Eed community in America from the White,
a company of White men are building a town, a
frontier post, from which they threaten to invade,
acquire, and annex the Eed man's land.

3i8 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A FRONTIER TOWN.

EROM Caddo to Eecl Eiver is a bee-line of thirty
miles. A clearing in the jungle has been made
near the river-bank, and the name of Eed Eiver
City has been printed on local maps ; but not a
single shanty, not even a ticket-office, or landing
stage, or a drinking crib, has yet been built. The
city consists of a rock cutting and a trussle bridge.
Eed Eiver city is not even a ghost of a city, with
imaginary squares and roads, like those unborn
paradises on the Bay of San Francisco, which are
waiting for ' the good time.' As yet the Chickasaws
and Choctaws lie too near. In time a town may
look across Eed Eiver into the Chickasaw country,
but the time will not arrive until the Eedskins shall
have ceased to live in tribes, to hold their lands in
common, and obey the orders of despotic chiefs.
Yet, as a town was needed on the frontier, not

A FRONTIER TOWN.

319

for local traffic only, but for the security and supply
of a long chain of Indian posts, including Fort Sill,
Fort Griffin, and Fort Bichardson, a town was
ordered to be built, and has accordingly been built.

The story of Denison City is as curious, in its
way, as the story of Salinas City ; for Denison in
Texas, like Salinas in California, is built by English
enterprise, with English gold.

Five miles from the bridge over Eed Eiver,
Colonel Stevens, engineer of the Texas and Kansas
railways, found a safer and better site. The
Colonel (in whose company we have the great
advantage of seeing these countries) is a man of vast
experience in the ways of savage life. No one in
the service knows the Eedskins better, or the
land on which they live so well. A town was needed
on the frontier, and he chose the site, instead of
leaving the locality to chance. A rolling prairie,
with a grove of ancient oaks, arrested his attention,
and on finding the plateau drained by a pretty
runnel, fed by many living springs, he paused, and
looked about. At points, the rock cropped out,
and here and there, outside the grove of oaks,
lay strips of open country, dotted with single trees.
Around the plateau rolled a rich and level country,

320 WHITE CONQUEST.

with a soil adapted for the growth of cotton, rice,
and maize.

A sheet of paper was produced ; streets, squares,
roads and lines were marked. The grove was set
apart for public use. A school was marked, and
the young city being named Denison, a day was
fixed when corner lots were to be sold. Stevens
assured the first bidders that a railway depot would
be built. Denison was to be the magazine of Fort
Eichardson, Fort Griffin, and Fort Sill. A line of
telegraphs was to connect these posts. Ice-houses,
slaughtering -yards, and cotton-compressors were to
follow. Such were the promises held out to specu
lators in main streets and corner lots, and as the
railways are owned in England, and the promises
were made on English good faith, the Jews who
came up from Dallas and Shreveport to look on,
were satisfied that the town would prosper. Sheds
began to rise. But logs for building purposes were
scarce. Oak is too hard for use ; the yellow-
pine country lies a hundred miles off; yet lumber-
teams soon began to hail in Main Street. Finding-
a market opening for planks, three firms in St.
Louis sent down several loads of white pine.
These planks and boards had to come nearly six

A FRONTIER TOWN. 321

hundred miles by train. A good market seldom fails
to find supplies, and when the lumberers heard that
pines were wanted in Denison, they sent in teams,
though Denison was a place unknown to maps, and
charts. Work went merrily on. The Nelson House
was roofed, the Adams House begun. Shanties here
and there sprang up. Negroes from Caddo and Vinita,
Jews from Dallas, Shreveport, and Galveston, row
dies and gamblers from every quarter of the
compass, flocked into the town. A bar, an auction
mart, a dancing room, were opened. In six months
Denison had a thousand citizens of various colours
and persuasions, and was famed from Dallas to
Galveston as ' the livest town in all Texas/

Twenty-eight months have hardly passed since
Colonel Stevens drew his plan on that sheet of
paper, and Denison is now a town of four thousand
five hundred souls. The railway depot occupies a
quarter of the town and near this depot stand the
slaughtering-yards, two vast ice-houses, the cotton-
compressor, four churches, five taverns, and an
unknown number of faro-banks.

Denison can already boast of a mayor, eight
aldermen, ' all honest democrats ; ' a recorder, who

VOL. i. y

322 WHITE CONQUEST.

is ' a terror to evildoers,' and a Board of Trade. In
strolling about the town, we notice a Masonic lodge,
a Good Templar lodge, and a Base Ball Club. But
the chief glory of Denison is the school-house, a red
brick edifice, in the American Tudor style, so com
mon in the Southern States. This pile cost forty-
five thousand dollars, every cent of which was
raised on loans in Capel Court. What singular
corners of the earth are fertilized by English gold !
If Denison prospers, the money-lenders may
receive their own again, and feel that they have
helped in a good cause. Eough, noisy, profligate,
Denison is a very ' live place.' Much drink is put
away in little time. The day is Sunday, yet bars
are open and billiard-balls click at every turn.
Gay women flaunt about the streets, and hucksters
quarrel in their cups on every kerbstone. Yet how
near the pastoral nature seems to lie ! Trees grow
in Main street, and stumps of trees choke up the
avenues right and left of Main street. Antelopes are
tethered in yards. Cows wander up and down,
and hang familiarly about the gates. Girls fetch
in water from the creeks, and mustangs, still unbroken
to the collar, tear across trackless leas of grass.

A FRONTIER TOWN. 323

Judging from the streets, the Negroes must be
half the population of this frontier town. Not a
single Chickasaw or Choctaw can be seen. No Beel-
.skin lives at Denison ; yet Denison i$ something
more than a depot for Fort Sill and a refuge for
emancipated slaves. It is a camp of enemies to the
Heel man.

Before we had been ten days in America, a
gentleman in a Potomac steamer, seeing me mark
some passages in a morning paper, with a view
to future use, came up and said to me :

4 Guess you're a correspondent of the New York
press ? '

'No, sir ; I am a visitor from the old country/

' Ha ! an Englishman ! You know Ulysses S.
Grant ? '

' I have that privilege.'

•' Guess you can tell me what he is going to do
with the Indians ? I'm Texas-born, and represent
the Spread Eagle ; guess you've heard of the Spread
Eagle ? No ! That's strange-. Well, I've come out
East to learn what the President means to do with
the Indian territory. If he is going to open up the
-country, we are ready at the gates. All Denison,

Y 2

324 WHITE CONQUEST.

will move across Eed Eiver. Caddo is nearer to
Fort Sill than Denison, and would suit the Govern
ment better as a magazine of arms and stores.
Two words %long the wires, just l Go ahead,' would
bring ten thousand men to Denison, Caddo, and
Limestone Gap in less than a week. That
country, Sir, is the garden of America. If Ulysses-
S. Grant will only give the sign, I guess our Texan
horse will soon be picketed on the Arkansas.'

I fear that editor is right. Five years after the
Indian countries are opened up to capital and labour,
as every part of a republic must be opened to the
citizens of that republic, the Creeks and Cherokees.
will own no more soil in Oklahoma than they own
in Massachusetts and New York.

335

CHAPTER XXXIII.

TEXAS AND TEXAXS.

A TEXAX is a mounted man ; a knight, who rides
and carries arms. The air is hot, and swells in
mortal veins. Under Sam Houston, there was a
Texan boast that every White settler in the land had
killed a Mexican and scalped a Eedskin. Later on,
the saying of the country ran that every White man
•owned a mustang and a slave. The slave being gone,
the sense of lordship takes another shape. Now, the
legend runs, that every Texan owns a horse, a dog,
and a gun ; a horse that never slackens speed, a dog
that never drops his scent, a gun that never misses
fire.

Like his Eed neighbour, the Kickapoo, a Texan is
a hunter ; but, unlike his neighbour, the Kickapoo,
a Texan never hunts. At every ranch we find a
mustang hitched to a rail ; on every track we meet

326 WHITE CONQ VEST.

armed and mounted men ; yet nowhere have we seen
much evidence of devotion to the chase. Wild game
abounds. On every side, except the side-board, we
see elk and antelope, snipe and quail, leveret
and prairie-fowl. Nature has done her part, and
done it well ; but man has not found time, as yet, to
use her gifts. The fight for life is still too hard for
men to ask for anything more dainty than campaign
ing fare.

4 Game ! ' cries a comrade in the dining-room ;
' guess the only game we Texans care about is
poker.' Dine where you may — at prairie ranch,
at roadside inn, at railway restaurant — the beef is
all leather, the bacon all fat ; and when you ask for
another dish, you are served with more beef all
leather, and more bacon all fat. Prom Denison to
Hearne, from Hearne to Galveston, the plains of
Texan are dotted with cattle. Steers browse on
every knoll, heifers make pastorals at every pool.
Here now,' you whisper to yourself, ' is a country
of wholesome food — fresh meat, pure milk, new
butter, native cheese ; here, after courses of jerked
antelope and alkaline water, we shall have a chance
of growing strong on simple meat and wholesome

TEXAS AND TEXANS. 327

drink.' Sore is your surprise on asking the Texans
for this simple meat and wholesome drink.

A cut of beef is laid before you. Beef ! What
kind of beef? ' Is not this buffalo steak ? '

' No, Sir,' explains your host, ' this beef is cow
meat, or it maybe bull meat. If it were only fresh
it would be good enough.'

' Why is it not fresh ? '

' You see it has to come a long way, and must
first be dried and packed. We have to fetch our beef
from St. Louis, seven or eight hundred miles by
car, seventeen or eighteen hundred miles by boat.
We have no time to grow our own food. Texas
is a grazing country ; in the future she may supply
America with beef and butter ; but she is still
dependent on the North for what she eats and
drinks.'

You ask for milk — a glass of fresh, cold milk.
Some warm and greasy stuff is poured into your
cup : ' This is the only milk we have.' It is New
England milk, prepared in cans, and warranted to
keep in any climate. If you ask for butter, you get
a mixture of grease and brine.

Living in a wild country, with Comanches on

328 WHITE CONQUEST.

the north and Kickapoos on the south, the Texans
have not yet acquired that solid hold of the soil
which lends a platform to domestic arts. A chain of
military posts runs through the land, from Fort
Eichardson, Fort Griffin, and Fort Worth, in the
upper counties, to Fort Concho, Fort Ewell, and
Fort Clarke, in the lower counties. Every season,
some portions of the State are overrun by savages
from Mexico ; not such gentle savages as those who
stream into Shefelah and Sharon, eating the grapes,
drinking the water, and fighting the peasantry, but
monsters in human shape, who steal into the settled
parts in search of cows and ponies, scalps and girls.
There are no milking-maids and dairy-maids in
Texas. If the farmers had such girls they would not
dare to send them out into the cattle-runs. The
Kickapoos would whisk them off into Mexico. Men
with rifles and revolvers have enough to do if they
would mind their cows and keep their scalps.

A settler here and there has introduced domestic
arts, but only for his family use. The mass of settlers
keep their pails and churns down East. They find
dried meat from Illinois, canned milk from Vermont,
and salt butter from Ontario cheaper than they can

TEXAS AND TEXANS. -329

make them on the spot. Some farmers lay the blame
on climate, soil, and water, as unfavourable to the
dairy trade.

' A fine country, Sir, but wild/ says a stock-
raiser, with whom we swap drinks at a roadside bar ;
•' everything is wild. You can only keep a cow tame
for a year or so. All herds go back on nature. I
brought some short-horns out from Essex ; in three
lives they have all gone back to long-horns.'

A Texan builds no cattle-sheds. Once he has
turned his herds into the grazing lands, he lets
them run wild, and stay out all the year. Who
knows wrhat happens with such herds ?

If left alone all animals go wild ; a steer but
some degrees faster than a lad. The son of a White
man who had been stolen as a child by Kickapoos
and mated in their tribe has been found as savage
&s an ordinary Kickapoo.

Some persons blame the Negroes as the evil
demons of this country, charging them with a pro
pensity to acts of violence, a disposition to abuse
whatever favour they obtain, and an extreme anti
pathy to family order and domestic arts. Some
grains of truth there are in what these critics urge.

330 WHITE CONQUEST.

The Negro, as he lives in Texas, is a savage, but
without the virtues of a Cherokee. Unbroken to
the yoke, he hardly understands the meaning of a
moral code, a social compact, or a family law. To
him domestic arts are figments of the brain, and
family order is a vision in the clouds. In moral
sense he rises no higher than a Kickapoo ; in per
sonal rectitude he sinks below the Kickapoo.

In Texas, three races are in contact and conflict ;
each race against the other two races ; Eed men
against White and Black ; Black men against Eed
and White ; White men against Black and Eed.
The calendar of crime in Texas is a fearful record,
and the darkest portion of that record is the list of
Negro crime.

At every ranch we hear of Negro frays and
fights, beginning for the greater part in drink, and
ending for the greater part in bloodshed. Since
the Negro became a citizen he has acquired the
faculty of buying whisky and getting drunk, a gift
of liberty denied to his Eed brother ; and one more
precious in his sight than that of voting for a village
justice or even for a member of Congress.

White people, as a rule, pay no attention to
these Negro quarrels, White people caring no more

TEXAS AND TEXANS. 331

whether a Black fellow kills his comrade than they
care whether a Bedskiii scalps his neighbour. We
learn, on good authority, that there were three
thousand murders in Texas last year, and that
nearly all these murders were committed by Xegroes
on their brother blacks. A few were Indian
outrages, committed by the Kickapoos and Kiowas
who swarm across the border out of Mexico in search
of cows and girls ; but these few Indian murders
were not enough in number to affect the main results.
But though the White men stand aloof, in pity and
contempt, as they might stand apart when street-dogs
or wild bulls are fighting, such offences help to
keep Texas a savage country, and to stop the growth
of villages on plains, which at the best are only one
remove from desert wastes.

But when a Black man kills a White man, blood
is certain to be shed ; for neither race has yet
acquired much confidence in the courts of law. In
a society so young as that of Texas, courts of law
are swayed by every storm of public passion, and
the judges, chosen by a popular vote, feel bound to
rule as the majority dictates. Hence verdicts are
the sport of party victories. An Asiatic Greek
believes he has some chance of getting justice from

332 WHITE CONQUEST.

a Turk ; a Kabyle in Algeria thinks lie lias some
chance of getting justice from a Gaul ; a Tartar in
Kazan imagines lie lias some chance of getting jus
tice from a Muscovite ; but a Negro in Texas never
dreams of getting justice from a Conservative judge,
and a White man in Texas never leaves the duty of
revenge to a Eepublican judge. In case of a col
lision, there is not much difference in the mode of
settling matters. Whether fair or dusky, men
whose friends have been injured by the other party
are ready to enact the parts of sheriffs, jurors,
judges, and hangmen, on the shortest notice.

Take the latest case, as an example. On Sunday
last, Zete Fly, a stalwart Negro, trudging on the
road near Moulton, a village in Gonzales County,
passed a White boy, named Dick Dixon, who was
hardly fourteen years of age. Some words arose.
Ply whipt out his pistol, fired at the lad, tearing his
arm from elbow to shoulder, and left him bleeding
in the road. Tom Dixon, elder brother of the boy,
ran after Zete, and finding him shut up in his shanty,
challenged him to come out and fight. Instead of
-coming out to fight Zete barred and logged his door.

' Come out ! ' cried Tom. Zete skulked behind

TEXAS AND TEXANS. 333

his logs and bars. Then Tom began to beat the
door and threaten to smash the planks. Zete slid his
bar, opened his door, and fired his pistol. Tom fell
dead.

Four or five settlers, hearing the shot, came up
from Moulton, and were soon aware how matters
stood. Brief parley led to stern resolve. Dead or
alive Zete must be arrested on the spot and carried
to Sheriff De Witt, in Gonzales, the county town,
together with the witnesses of his guilt.

They summoned Zete to yield himself a prisoner ;
he defied them to come in and take him. To-
attack a desperate fellow was to risk a second life,
and perhaps a third, and no one cared, in such
ignoble quarrels, to be shot. The settlers thought
of fire. It is an easy thing to burn a fellow in a
log cabin, and Zete himself caved in as soon as he
perceived their drift.

At four in the afternoon, as the sun was setting,
two settlers started with the prisoner for Gonzales.
The night was closing in, when they were met by
seven or eight mounted men, who called a halt. The
darkness hid the features of these persons, but their
purpose was apparent in their acts. They took the

334 WHITE CONQUEST.

murderer from his escort, strapped his legs under
his horse, and placing him in their centre, struck into
the open Plains.

Having lost their man, and thinking the affair over
and their duty done, the two settlers jogged along
the road. Nobody at Gonzales seemed to care for
Zete. The night was Sunday, and the people were
at evening service. What was there to say ? Zete
had committed murder, and a murderer's doom is
death. If he were hanged by the rescuers substan
tial justice would be done. So thinking, the citizens
in Gonzales drank their whisky and went to bed,
giving the criminal and his captors no further
thought.

Next day intelligence reached Sheriff De Witt
that Zete, though sorely wounded, was still alive. A
second party had appeared. A fight had taken place,
another rescue had been made, and Zete, exalted in
Negro eyes by his double crime, was lying at a ranch
•on the Plains, guarded by forty well-armed blacks.

This tale was true. When the White captors,
having no confidence in public justice, were about
to hang the murderer, a much stronger Black party,
having no confidence in public justice, were gather
ing to save him from the rope. These parties met.

TEXAS AND TEXANS. 335

Forty against seven are long odds. The seven fell
back, and Zete, though injured by a gunshot, was
released and carried off by his Negro partisans.

On Tuesday morning Sheriff De Witt rode out
with half Gonzales at his side. As they approached
the ranch where Zete was lying, they looked and
listened for sign and sound — none came ; the ranch
was silent as a tomb. On peering through the door,
De Witt perceived two corpses, and on touching the
bodies he found they were still warm. One corpse
was that of Zete Fly ; the other that of an unknown
Negro. Both bodies were riddled with shots, so
were the wall and door. A short and bloody fight
had evidently taken place, but who the combatants
were no sign remained to tell. The work of
death was done— the ministers of doom were gone.

Later in the day, some Negroes who had aided
in the fight and rescue came before De Witt and
told him that a party of White men had come that
morning to the ranch and summoned the Negroes
to surrender Zete Fly. The party being too strong for
the Negroes to fight, many of them ran away ; but one
man, braver than his crew, had raised his gun, and
standing in front of Zete, had challenged his enemies
to come on. A White volley struck them dead.

336 WHITE CONQUEST.

CHAPTEE XXXIV.

THE THREE RACES.

SUCH conflicts are the curse of Texas ; yet one
sees no end of them till the country has been
settled, the roads have become safe, and the courts
have been purged of party spirit. The White settlers
are gaining ground, but they are still too near the
Indian lodges for security, and too near the day
of Negro rule for peace and confidence.

c Our blood is hot/ says an English settler, who
tells me he has learned to like the country very
much, c but we are mending day by day, especially
in the towns. We drink less liquor, and invoke
more law. Eemove the whisky-shops, and we
shall show as few white crimes of violence in Texas-
as they show in Georgia and South Carolina. Whisky
is cheap and every one drinks hard. Such crimes
as stain our name, apart from drunken rows,
are the results of fear, and have their source in our

THE THREE RACES, 337

unsettled state. We are not strong enough to
overlook offences. Why do we carry arms?
From fear of an attack. Why do we fire so readily ?
In order to forestall a blow. When people feel
secure, they cease to shoot each other in the
street.'

c But in the country — in the cattle-runs, and on
the cotton plantations ? '

' In the cattle-runs we are rather wild ; knowing
hardly any ministers of justice save the hatchet and
revolver. But remember where the cattle-runs lie :
within an easy ride of Kickapoo tents. The
cotton-yards are better than the cattle-runs ; the
Negro being less brutal, if more vicious, than the
Kickapoo. I cannot say that in Texas a fellow
thinks it wrong to kill his creditor, his wife's
seducer, and his tipsy comrade.'

It will be long ere Austin and Indianola are as
tame as Norwich and Yarmouth, but the Anglo-
Saxon blood is there, with all its staying power. A
few English ladies would assist the progress of
refining much. A lady never feels her sceptre till
she finds herself the empress of some frontier State.

At Dallas, a gentleman from Missouri is good
VOL. i. z

338 . WHITE CONQUEST.

enough to offer me a fine estate, if I will only take
it off his hands. 'My land,' he says, with a sad
humour, ' lies on the upper reaches of the Brazos,
in a lovely country and a healthy climate. There
are woods and pastures, water rights and fisheries.
It is not so large a place as Kent, yet a swift rider
would hardly cross it in a day.'

This fine demesne is the owner's big elephant :,
a source of cost and trouble which destroys his life.
He has to pay the public tax on land. He has to
hire men to guard his timber. Yet the place has
never yet yielded him a cent. ' The ruin of the
war,' he says, ' added to the raids of Kiowas and
Kickapoos, prevents the march of settlers towards
the upper Brazos. But for the Negroes and Indians,
Brazos would be a paradise. When these two
plagues are gone, all parts of Texas will be as free
from marauders as the neighbourhood of Dallas/

My friend has reason to believe that Kiowas and
Kickapcos hunt game in his preserves, that Mestizo
herdsmen crop his grass, that White foresters cut and
sell his wood. Yet how is he to charge them rent ?
His title to the land is perfect ; but once, on going to
see his place, he tells me, he received a notice to

THE THREE RACES. 339

return the way he came, unless he wished to see
strange sights. This message brooked no fencing ;
and he rode away that night, leaving his protest with
some district judge. An agent whom he afterwards
sent out was shot.

' It is a good thing,' says my friend, ' to have a
fine cattle-run, but a man who owns a good cattle-
run on the upper Brazos, ought to live out West,
and keep things square.'

'What do you think of us now ?' asks a citizen
of Galveston county.

' You seem to have a big estate — wood, water,
grass.'

6 Grass is a cuss. You see these fields near the
creek : they're under cotton. Cotton is king. You
think we might have meat and milk ? We might ;
but then who cares to throw away his chance ? No
man ever got rich on meat and milk. Dollars are
what we want ; dollars from St. Louis and Chicago ;
dollars from Boston and New York ; and neither
St. Louis nor Chicago, Boston nor New York would
send us a coin if we began killing our own calf
and milking our own cow. If we had no need for
Eastern dollars, we'd divide.'

340 WHITE CONQUEST.

6 Divide ? You mean that you would break the
Union ?

' Yes ; most Texans hereabouts are ready to
divide. The case of New Orleans warns us.
Having lately passed through fire, we feel the
anguish of Louisiana in our hearts. Look at our
case, and tell me the sort of justice we are likely to
obtain from the republicans of Boston and New
York.'

In Texas the brief period of Negro supre
macy was a bitter trial for the Whites, some of
whom saw their former menials sitting over them
as judges, legislators, and tax collectors. Many of
these Negro judges, legislators and tax-collectors
could barely read their letters and sign their names.
Confusion then seemed chaos. Crime increased,
income- decreased. Bates were raised, till property
was taxed beyond the power to pay. Houses fell
empty. Land became a burthen and a curse.

Instead of keeping within the law these ignorant
rulers trampled justice under foot. Under the lead
of carpet-baggers — a low class of adventurers from
the North — and covered by the presence of Federal
troops, they seized the ballot-boxes and drove White

THE THREE RACES. 341

voters from the polling-booths. A White citizen
could hardly cast his vote. Unless some friendly
Negro led him up and vouched for him as a scala
wag, he could hardly reach his balloting-urn. The
Blacks were mostly armed, the Whites were all dis
armed. In every village row White blood was shed.

' Thank God those shameful days are gone for
ever/ says a planter of more moderate vein. ' The
Black tyranny and the Black legislature have van
ished, never again to blight our cities with a curse.'

' Gone without violence P '

' Yes, by natural causes ; gone as all bad things
should go : by means of natural law. Europe has
saved us from the curse of Negro rule.'

It is the immigration, chiefly flowing in from
Liverpool to Galveston and Indianola, that has
restored the balance of White power in Texas. Ex
cept the runaways from Eed Eiver, few Negroes have
entered Texas ; while, since the war, more than a
hundred thousand Whites have come in from English
ports. Untainted by secession, these settlers get their
votes the moment they apply, and they have nearly
always cast them on the Conservative side. Eace
counts. A clown just landed from an English deck

342 WHITE CONQUEST.

will take his part, without a word being said to him,
in favour of his White brother against the Negro and
the Kickapoo. A White League starts up in opposi
tion to a Eed League on one side, to a Black
League on the other side. Ku Klux is but a White
counter part of the Cherokee Light Horse.

Last year, by help of these in-comers from
Europe, the White Leaguers of Texas beat the army
of Black Leaguers and their partisans at the polling-
booths, carrying all their candidates for the
Executive — Coke for Governor, De Berry for Secre
tary of State, Eoberts for Chief Justice. Six Con
servatives are going to represent the State in Wash
ington. The scalawags are routed, and the White
citizens have recovered the full control of their
affairs.

In riding towards the South we overtake a party
of the new legislators on their way to Austin, where
the Chambers are about to meet. They are attorneys,
planters, doctors, and the like ; a natural aristocracy
in a frontier State ; a jovial set of fellows, with a
spice of rough old English humour in their talk.

' When you get to Austin as masters what will
you do ? '

THE THREE RACES. 343

' Do ? ' laughs one of them. ' We mean to have
•a good time. We shall revise the new Scalawag
Constitution, and give the poor down-trodden Whites
a chance.'

6 And then ? '

' Guess then,' he laughs still more, ' we'll fill
our trunks. What should we go to Austin for?
You see these gentlemen. Every man among the
lot has an empty box in the luggage van. Hish !
When we come back these boxes will be full. Why
else is Coke made Governor, De Berry Secretary
of State P Have not we as much right to rob the
Treasury as those scalawags ? On my return from
Austin, I bet you'll not be able to lift this trunk ! '

We laugh and tell some jest about our way of
•doing things in London when one party is going out
and the other party coming in. A fellow with the
manner of a ranting preacher creeps behind and
whispers in my ear, ' You smile, Sir ; by the eternal
heavens it's true.'

' Do you expect to have any more Black trouble
in Texas ? '

' None,' snaps one of the members, merrily ; ' no
more Black trouble, except what springs from the

344 WHITE CONQUEST.

Black women. These women are a curse. Squaws
are bad enough, heaven knows, but Negresses are
ten times worse. We frontier folk aren't angels, but
these coloured women have no souls at all. Five
Negresses in six will go any lengths to get a drink.'

At Houston we notice that the hotel servants are
White ; a thing we have not seen, except in one house
at San Francisco, since we left New York. Here
the advertisements run : ' all the servants White and
polite.' A Negro with a vote is always lazy and
often saucy, and this laziness and sauciness are
threatening to deprive him of his daily bread. Pat
and Karl fetch higher wages than Sam, but
managers of big hotels must please their customers,
even though they drive the Negro from a market
which was once his own.

A gentleman of good position and large ex
perience says to me in Galveston :

c In Texas there never was a majority of coloured
people. When our slaves were freed, we counted
more than two fair heads for every woolly head.
Living in a republic, with the weight of numbers
on our side, we had a right to choose our rulers,
magistrates, and tax assessors. If our brethren at

THE THREE RACES. 345

the North were minded to deny our wealth, intelli
gence, and enterprise, they could not rob us of our
majority of votes, except through treason to the
first principle of a Eepublic. Such was their
case and ours. Forget our common origin — our
blood, our history, our literature, our civilised
life — things which we hold in common from our
English ancestry ; and in the absence of all ties
of memory and affection, we demand, as members
of a free society, the right of settling things by
a majority of voices.'

' Such a claim is hardly to be denied in a Ee
public.'

' Yet that claim was set aside by President
Grant. For what? Because he hankered after a
second term, and needed Southern votes. A gang
of dollar-hunters swarmed into Texas, not to settle
in the country, but to eat it up ; fellows having no
stake in the soil, no knowledge of the people, no
concern with planting towns, no interest in pro
moting order. Backed by Federal officers, they or
ganized Black clubs, and convened private meetings
of scalawags. Seizing our electoral lists, they put
in names and struck out names, according to their

346 WHITE CONQUEST.

secret orders, till the Negroes had majorities of votes
in hamlets where the coloured people were not more
than two in five. We chafed, you may be sure,
and have no wish to see that game played over
again at our expense. If we divide, we may have
peace ; if not, who knows where we shall stand ?
These Negroes want to rule and reign once more.
Do you suppose that men of English blood will
stand that sort of thing? We Texans were the
last to cave in ; we'll be the first to head out. You
bet ? If Phil Sheridan comes to Austin — we'll
divide.'

347

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE GULF OF MEXICO.

MOVING atj sunrise out of Galveston harbour we sail
into a thick and golden mist, which hides the low-
lying shores of Saline Pass and the adjoining country
from our sight. The waves are long and smooth.
A flock of snow-birds flutter in our wake, and swoop
with easy undulation on their prey. A semi-tropical
languor lies on every face.

As day comes on the mist clears oiF, and through
the vanishing haze we catch along the shores a
fringe of cypress and cotton-wood, with roots in
swamp and pool, and branches hung with vegetable
filth — the noisome and funereal weed called Spanish
moss.

Our vessel, plying between Indianola, in Texas,
and Brashear, in Louisiana, skirts two of the rich
Gulf States, and connects the port of Galveston with
the river at New Orleans. She carries few natives,

348 WHITE [ CONQ UEST.

either Mexican or American. Her passengers, like
her crew, are mostly Scotch and English ; for the
ports and towns in Texas are nearly all built by
British capital and settled by British families- It is
the old, old story of our race. Who planted Vir
ginia and Massachusetts ? Who peopled Georgia,
Pennsylvania, Maryland ? The seventeenth century
only saw at James Town and Plymouth Eock what
the nineteenth century beholds in the Gulf of
Mexico. The English race is moving on the West.
London and Liverpool are pouring out our wealth
and population on these coasts — our surplus
capital, our adventurous sons.

This power of drawing on the parent country
for supports is the chief mainstay of White America.

Apart from passing politics, the Conservatives
hold that time is always fighting on their side.
White men increase in freedom. In a hundred
years the White family has increased in North
America from less than three millions to more than
thirty millions. Who knows whether the Black
family will increase in freedom ? Every fact appears
to point another way. The Whites are recruited
from Europe, the Blacks are not recruited from

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 349

Africa. One force expands, the other wanes. Yet
what a power of mischief this low and waning
branch of the human family possesses; a power
which wounds and weakens every section of
America ; setting brother against brother, North
against South, the disciples of Brewster against the
comrades of Ealeigh, and the children of Oglethorpe
against the descendants of Penn.

This question — ' How, in our advance towards a
higher plane of freedom, culture, and refinement,
shall we treat those races on our soil which stand on
the lowest stages of freedom, culture, and refine
ment ? ' — has already wrecked a third part of
America, putting back for unknown terms of
years the noble work which the Eepublic inherited
from her English founders — that of planting and
peopling this continent with Free States.

' Born in the South, and trained to look on
slavery as a domestic system, I was always of
opinion that the Slave Question was a passing evil,'
says a companion of the quarter deck.

'A passing evil? You think it would have
passed away ? '

' It would assuredly have passed away.'

350 WHITE CONQUEST. <

'Without the civil war?'

' Assuredly, without the civil war. Yea, more.
If we regard the question as a whole — the Negro's
life in freedom as well as his life in bondage — the
problem might have been solved sooner without
the war than with the war. Neither the
Black League nor the White League need have
troubled the United States. Moral emancipation
would have come through moral means, and in a
time of peace, with all good men disposed to make
the best of it. Military emancipation came on us as
a shock, occurring in a time of war, and sending
up, in sullen rancour, some of the blackest pas
sions of the human heart. What has the war done ? '

' Destroyed slavery.'

'Excuse me — the war has destroyed freedom.
Where is the Eepublic now? Where is the com
monwealth conceived for us by Franklin, left to us
by Washington ? Shall we seek it in New Orleans,
in Vicksburg, in Eichmond ? Where is our boast
of local self-government justified to-day ? '

At day-break, starting to my feet and peering
through my cabin-window, I see a trail of land in
the distance, with a fringe of forest trees, funereally

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 351

draped in Spanish moss. Hollo, what's here ? A
bank of sand lies bare and dry under the paddle-
wheel. Are we ashore ? Is that white bird a crane ?
Are we at sea — is this a phantom ship ?

On coming to the fore, I find that we are push
ing through a sea- canal, marked off with boles of
trees. This work is seven miles long, and twelve
feet deep, running between Marsh Island and the
swamps of Terre Bonne, in Atchafalaya Biver, on
the eastern bank of which lies the port of Brashear :
a place created out of chaos, by the necessity which
has sprung up since the settlement of Texas for a
shorter and safer route from Galveston to New
Orleans than that by way of Pass a Loutre. The
voyage is reduced by half the time. By boat and
car a man now runs from Galveston to New
Orleans in little more than twenty-four hours.

Is Brashear land or water? Slush and mud,
gutter and pool, basin and drain, all meet in Brash-
ear ; a dismal swamp and fever-den, enclosed on
every side with jungle, in which every tree is hung
with Spanish moss. This ghastly parasite clings in
cobwebs, of dull mouse- colour, from every branch.
c Observe this weed,' a resident in Brashear says

352 WHITE CONQUEST.

to me, when showing us the lions of his hamlet.
You see it in a place — get off as quickly as your
horse will trot. We call it fever-moss. It is a sign
that chills and fevers hang about.'

' The weed seems widely spread ; we see it
everywhere along the Gulf.'

' Along this Gulf disease and death are widely
spread. It grows in every marsh and pool, round
every lake and bay. You find it in Eastern Texas
and Southern Louisiana, in Western Florida, and
among the inland waters of Alabama.'

This parasite is ugly, foetid, and of little use.
Negroes rake it down and bury it in the earth. In
ten or twelve days the stench dies out, and then
they dig it up and dry it in the sun. When crisp
and hard, they stuff it into mattresses and pillows
in place of straw. Negroes are said to like sleeping
on this dried fever-moss.

Brashear is a colony of Negroes, and a strong
hold of the Black League. Setting aside some dozen
officers connected with the boats and trains, no
White inhabitants dwell in Brashear. Every door
way shows a Negro, every gutter a dusky imp.
Grog-shops, billiard- rooms, and lottery stalls reek

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 353

•with Negroes — most of them having the thick lips,
the woolly hair, the long faces, and the ebony skins
of their Fanti and Mandingo fathers.

Glancing through the lanes of Brashear, you
perceive that, unlike Texas, Louisiana is a country
in which the scalawags and carpet-baggers may
chance to find a majority of voters on their side.
Since every Negro is a citizen raid every citizen has
a vote, what is to prevent this mass of coloured
people from choosing a Black lawgiver and framing
a Black code ? United they might carry any chief
and any bill. They might have a Fanti sheriff, a
Mandingo judge. Acting as one man, like a mass of
Celtic voters, they might legalise in America the
4 customs ' of Yam, Dahomey, and Adai.

The African brain is limited in range.

' Oranges, massa ! Hab oranges ? ' cries a
stalwart Negro in the street.

c How much a dozen, eh ? '

' Four for a quarter, massa, four for a quarter ! '
Yes, the fellow asks no less than threepence each ;
though oranges are so plentiful at Brashear, that if
he fails to sell them in the cars, he will hardly take
the trouble to carry them home.

VOL. i. A A

354 WHITE CONQUEST.

' A quarter for four, Sam ! Why. when you
have sent them all the way to London you will
only ask a quarter for twenty-five.'

c Eh, massa ! Dat all true ? Den dose are
planter oranges — dat planter trade.'

Sam cannot grasp the methods of a large and
complex commerce. He walks two or three miles,
and spends an hour or more in gathering twenty
oranges from a tree. The time and cost are much
the same as though he were to gather a thousand,
but his brain has no conception of scale.

In Louisiana, the Negroes count a clear, though
not a large, majority of votes, and claim to have a
clear majority of members in the Chamber. They
are backed by Federal troops. Their nominee,
William P. Kellogg, is recognised by President Grant
as Governor of Louisiana. Yet see the train in
which we are going towards New Orleans ! By law,
a Negro is the White's man's equal ; by the railway
company he is charged the White man's fare. Is
he allowed to exercise the simplest of his rights — to
travel in which car he pleases ? Never.

An Irish navvy, a Mexican pedlar, may take a
seat in any car ; but not a man or woman of the

THE GULF OF MEXICO. 355

African race. His scalawag champion cannot help
him in a train. Here ladies rule. All ladies are
Conservatives, and in America nothing can be clone
if ladies object. You see these fellows huddled
in a front car, next to the engine, smothered by the
smoke of burning logs. Some of them are merry,
others sullen ; yet, in spite of their many discom
forts, not a soul amongst them dreams of straying
into the better cars.

' The Negro never comes into your company?'
we ask a passenger.

6 Never,' he replies, a curl of scorn on his thin
aristocratic lips ; ' a Negro sit among our wives and
sisters ! '

6 Has he not the legal right ? '

6 Such right as rules and articles can give him,

yes ; but he knows his place a good deal better than
the scalawags. If Kellogg and his crew were gone,
we should have no more trouble with the coloured
folk. They know us; we know them. It was a
crime to give them votes ; but we could live well
enough with coloured voters, if the Federal troops
were called away.'

4 You have no fear of their majorities ? '

356 WHITE CONQUEST

'No, none; unless those majorities are guided
by a military chief. The thing we have to execrate
is Csesarism — that government by the sword, which
takes no heed of liberal principles. For what purpose
has General Sheridan been sent to New Orleans ? '

After a moment's pause, during which I make
no answer — having none to make — he adds : ' Who
knows whether we shall not find the city under
martial law, the side walks running blood, the public
offices on fire ? '

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

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