LIBRARY 
 
 NJVIS*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. 
 
4 6 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 
 
4 8 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, w r as 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 ? 
 
 c My 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? 
 
5 8 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 his 1 
 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 w T hich 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 w r ander 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 w r eeks 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 7 o 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 w T as 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 w r ere 
 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. ?9 r 
 
 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 
 
3 co 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. 3 o 7 
 
 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 
 
3 o8 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. 3 n 
 
 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 w r hat 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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