The Travels and Adventures of Monsieur Violet in California, Sonora, and Western Texas

"Now, Owato Wanisha, or his Manitou, has offered a bold thing. I have thought of it, I have spoken of it to the spirits of the Red-skin; they said it was good; I say it is good! I am a chief of many winters; I know what is good, I know what is bad! Shoshones, hear me! my voice is weak, come nearer; hearken to my words, hist! I hear a whisper under the ripples of the water, I hear it in the waving of the grass, I feel it on the breeze!–hist, it is the whisper of the Master of Life,–hist!"

At this moment the venerable chief appeared abstracted, his face flushed; then followed a trance, as if he were communing with some invisible spirit. Intensely and silently did the warriors watch the struggles of his noble features; the time had come in which the minds of the Shoshones were freed of their prejudices, and dared to contemplate the prospective of a future general domination over the Western continent of America. The old chief raised his hand, and he spoke again:–

"Children, for you are my children! Warriors, for you are all brave! Chiefs, for you are all chiefs! I have seen a vision. It was a cloud, and the Manitou was upon it. The cloud gave way, and behind I saw a vast nation, large cities, rich wigwams, strange boats, and great parties of warriors, whose trail was so long that I could not see the beginning nor the end. It was in a country which I felt within me was extending from the north, where all is ice, down to the south, where all is fire! Then a big voice was heard! It was not a war-whoop, it was not the yell of the fiends, it was not the groan of the captive tied to the stake; it was a voice of glory, that shouted the name of the Shoshones–for all were Shoshones. There were no Pale-faces among them–none! Owato Wanisha was there, but he had a red skin, and his hair was black; so were his two fathers, but they were looking young; so was his aged and humble friend, but his limbs seemed to have recovered all the activity and vigour of youth; so were his two young friends, who have fought so bravely at the Post, when the cowardly Umbiquas entered our grounds. This is all what I have heard, all what I have seen; and the whisper said to me, as the vision faded away, 'Lose no time, old chief, the day has come! Say to thy warriors, Listen to the young Pale-face. The Great Spirit of the Red-skin will pass into his breast, and lend him some words that the Shoshone will understand.'

"I am old and feeble; I am tired; arise, my grandson Owato Wanisha; speak to my warriors; tell them the wishes of the Great Spirit. I have spoken."

Thus called upon, I advanced to the place which the chief had left vacant, and spoke in my turn:–

"Shoshones, fathers, brothers, warriors,–I am a Pale-face, but you know all my heart is a Shoshone's. I am young, but no more a child. It is but a short time since that I was a hunter; since that time the Manitou has made me a warrior, and led me among strange and distant tribes, where he taught me what I should do to render the Shoshones a great people. Hear my words, for I have but one tongue; it is the tongue of my heart, and in my heart now dwells the Good Spirit. Wonder not, if I assume the tone of command to give orders; the orders I will give are the Manitou's.

"The twelve wisest heads of the Shoshones will go to the Arrapahoes. With them they will take presents; they will take ten sons of chiefs, who have themselves led men on the war-path; they will take ten young girls, fair to look at, daughters of chiefs, whose voices are soft as the warbling of the birds in the fall. At the great council of the Arrapahoes, the ten girls will be offered to ten great chiefs, and ten great chiefs will offer their own daughters to our ten young warriors; they will offer peace for ever; they will exchange all the scalps, and they will say that their fathers, the Shoshones, will once more open their arms to their brave children. Our best hunting-ground shall be theirs; they will fish the salmon of our rivers; they will be Arrapahoes Shoshones; we will become Shoshones Arrapahoes. I have already sent to the settlement of the Watchinangoes my ancient Pale-face friend of the stout heart and keen eye; shortly we will see at the Post a vessel with arms, ammunition, and presents for the nation. I will go myself with a party of warriors to the prairies of the Apaches, and among the Comanches.

"Yet I hear within me a stout voice, which I must obey. My grandfather, the old chief, has said he should be no more a chief. It was wrong, very wrong; the Manitou is angry. Is the buffalo less a buffalo when he grows old, or the eagle less an eagle when a hundred winters have whitened his wings? No! their nature cannot change, not more than that of a chief and that chief, a chief of the Shoshones!

"Owato Wanisha will remain what he is; he is too young to be the great chief of the whole of a great nation. His wish is good, but his wisdom is of yesterday; he cannot rule. To rule belongs to those who have deserved doing so, by long experience. No! Owato Wanisha will lead his warriors to the war-path, or upon the trail of the buffalo; he will go and talk to the grandchildren of the Shoshones; more he cannot do!

"Let now the squaws prepare the farewell meal, and make ready the green paint; to-morrow I shall depart, with fifty of my young men. I have spoken."

The council being broken up, I had to pass through the ceremony of smoking the pipe and shaking hands with those who could call themselves warriors. On the following morning, fifty magnificent horses, richly caparisoned, were led to the lawn before the council lodge. Fifty warriors soon appeared, in their gaudiest dresses, all armed with the lance, bow, and lasso, and rifle suspended across the shoulder. Then there was a procession of all the tribe, divided into two bands, the first headed by the chiefs and holy men; the other, by the young virgins. Then the dances commenced; the elders sang their exploits of former days, as an example to their children; the voting men exercised themselves at the war-post; and the matrons, wives, mothers, or sisters of the travellers painted their faces with green and red, as a token of the nature of their mission. When this task was performed, the whole of the procession again formed their ranks, and joined in a chorus, asking the Manitou for success, and bidding us farewell. I gave the signal; all my men sprang up in their saddles, and the gallant little band, after having rode twice round the council lodge, galloped away into the prairie.

Two days after us, another party was to start for the country of the Arrapahoes, with the view of effecting a reconciliation between our two tribes.

CHAPTER XVI

At this time, the generally bright prospects of California were clouding over. Great changes had taken place in the Mexican government, new individuals had sprung into power, and their followers were recompensed with dignities and offices. But, as these offices had been already filled by others, it was necessary to remove the latter, and, consequently, the government had made itself more enemies.

Such was the case in California; but that the reader may understand the events which are to follow, it is necessary to draw a brief sketch of the country. I have already said that California embraces four hundred miles of sea-coast upon the Pacific Ocean. On the east, it is bounded by the Californian gulf, forming, in fact, a long peninsula. The only way of arriving at it by land, from the interior of Mexico, is to travel many hundred miles north, across the wild deserts of Sonora, and through tribes of Indians which, from the earliest records down to our days, have always been hostile to the Spaniards, and, of course, to the Mexicans. Yet far as California is–too far indeed for the government of Mexico to sufficiently protect it, either from Indian inroads or from the depredations of pirates, by which, indeed, the coast has much suffered–it does not prevent the Mexican government from exacting taxes from the various settlements–taxes enormous in themselves, and so onerous, that they will ever prevent these countries from becoming what they ought to be, under a better government.

The most northerly establishment of Mexico on the Pacific Ocean is San Francisco; the next, Monterey; then comes San Barbara, St. Luis Obispo, Buona Ventura, and, finally, St. Diego; besides these seaports, are many cities in the interior, such as St. Juan Campestrano, Los Angelos, the largest town in California, and San Gabriel. Disturbances, arising from the ignorance and venality of the Mexican dominion, very often happen in these regions; new individuals are continually appointed to rule them; and these individuals are generally men of broken fortunes and desperate characters, whose extortions become so intolerable that, at last, the Californians, in spite of their lazy dispositions, rise upon their petty tyrants. Such was now the case at Monterey. A new governor had arrived; the old General Morreno had, under false pre-texts, been dismissed, and recalled to the central department, to answer to many charges preferred against him.

The new governor, a libertine of the lowest class of the people, half monk and half soldier, who had carved his way through the world by murder, rapine, and abject submission to his superiors, soon began to stretch an iron hand over the townspeople. The Montereyans will bear much, yet under their apparent docility and moral apathy there lurks a fire which, once excited, pours forth flames of destruction. Moreover, the foreigners established in Monterey had, for a long time, enjoyed privileges which they were not willing to relinquish; and as they were, generally speaking, wealthy, they enjoyed a certain degree of influence over the lower classes of the Mexicans.

Immediately after the first extortion of the new governor, the population rose en masse, and disarmed the garrison. The presidio was occupied by the insurgents, and the tyrant was happy to escape on board an English vessel, bound to Acapulco.

However, on this occasion the Montereyans did not break their fealty to the Mexican government; they wanted justice, and they took it into their own hands. One of the most affluent citizens was unanimously selected governor pro tempore, till another should arrive, and they returned to their usual pleasures and apathy, just as if nothing extraordinary had happened. The name of the governor thus driven away was Fonseca. Knowing well that success alone could have justified his conduct, he did not attempt to return to Mexico, but meeting with some pirates, at that time ravaging the coasts in the neighbourhood of Guatimala, he joined them, and, excited by revenge and cupidity, he conceived the idea of conquering California for himself. He succeeded in enlisting into his service some 150 vagabonds from all parts of the earth–runaway sailors, escaped criminals, and, among the number, some forty Sandwich Islanders, brave and desperate fellows, who were allured with the hopes of plunder.

I may as well here mention, that there is a great number of these Sandwich Islanders swarming all along the coast of California, between which and the Sandwich Islands a very smart trade is carried on by the natives and the Americans. The vessels employed to perform the voyage are always double manned, and once on the shores of California, usually half of the crew deserts. Accustomed to a warm climate and to a life of indolence, they find themselves perfectly comfortable and happy in the new country. They engage themselves now and then as journeymen, to fold the hides, and, with their earnings, they pass a life of inebriety singularly contrasting with the well-known abstemiousness of the Spaniards. Such men had Fonseca taken into his service, and having seized upon a small store of arms and ammunition, he prepared for his expedition.

In the meanwhile, the governor of Sonora having been apprized of the movements at Monterey, took upon himself to punish the outbreak, imagining that his zeal would be highly applauded by the Mexican government. Just at this period, troops having come from Chihuahua, to quell an insurrection of the conquered Indians, he took the field in person, and advanced towards California. Leaving the ex-governor Fonseca and the governor of Sonora for awhile, I shall return to my operations among the Indians.

I have stated that upon the resolution of the Shoshones to unite the tribes, I had despatched my old servant to Monterey, and Gabriel to the nearest Apache village. This last had found a numerous party of that tribe on the waters of the Colorado of the West, and was coming in the direction which I had myself taken, accompanied by the whole party. We soon met; the Apaches heard with undeniable pleasure the propositions I made unto them, and they determined that one hundred of their chiefs and warriors should accompany me on my return to the Shoshones, in order to arrange with the elders of the tribe the compact of the treaty.

On our return we passed through the Arrapahoes, who had already received my messengers, and had accepted as well as given the "brides," which were to consolidate an indissoluble union. As to the Comanches, seeing the distance, and the time which must necessarily be lost in going and returning, I postponed* my embassy to them, until the bonds of union between the three nations, Shoshones, Apaches, and Arrapahoes, should be so firmly cemented as not to be broken. The Arrapahoes followed the example of the Apaches; and a hundred warriors well mounted and equipped, joined us to go and see the fathers, the Shoshones, and, smoke with them the calumet of* eternal peace.

We were now a gallant band, two hundred and fifty strong and in order to find game sufficient for the subsistence of many individuals, we were obliged to take a long range to the south, so as to fall upon the prairies bordering the Buona Ventura.* Chance, however, led us into a struggle, in which became afterwards deeply involved. Scarcely had we reached the river when we met with a company of fifteen individuals composed of some of my old Monterey friends. They were on their way to the settlement, to ask my help against the governor of Sonora; and the Indians being all unanimous in their desire to chastise him, and to acquire the good-will of the wealthy people of Monterey, I yielded to circumstance and altered our course to the south. My old servant had come with the deputation, and from him I learnt the whole of the transaction.

It appears that the governor of Sonora declared that he would whip like dogs, and hang the best part of the population of Monterey, principally the Anglo-Saxon settlers, the property of whom he intended to confiscate for his own private use If he could but have kept his own counsel, he would of a certainty have succeeded, but the Montereyans were aware of his intentions, even before he had reached the borders of California.

Deputations were sent to the neighbouring towns, and immediately a small body of determined men started to occupy the passes through which the governor had to proceed. There they learnt with dismay that the force they would have to contend with was at least ten times more numerous than their own; they were too brave, however, to retire without a blow in defence of their independence, and remembering the intimacy contracted with me, together with the natural antipathy of the Indians against the Watchinangoes, or Mexicans, they determined to ask our help, offering in return a portion of the wealth they could command in cattle, arms, ammunition, and other articles of great value among savages.

The governor's army amounted to five hundred men, two hundred of them soldiers in uniform, and the remainder half*d stragglers, fond of pillage, but too cowardly to fight for it. It was agreed that I and my men, being all on horseback, would occupy the prairie, where we would conceal ourselves in an ambush. The Montereyans and their friends were to make way at the approach of the governor, as if afraid of disclosing the ground; and then, when the whole of the hostile enemy should be in full pursuit, we were to charge them in break and put them to rout. All happened as was anticipated; We mustered about three hundred and fifteen men, acting under one single impulse, and sanguine as to success. On came the governor with his heroes.

A queer sight it was, and a noisy set of fellows they were; nevertheless, we could see that they were rather afraid of meeting with opposition, for they stopped at the foot of the hill, and perceiving some eight or ten Montereyans at the top of the pass, they despatched a white flag, to see if it were not possible to make some kind of compromise. Our friends pretended to be much terrified, and retreated down towards the prairie. Seeing this, our opponents became very brave. They marched, galloped, and rushed on without order, till they were fairly in our power; then we gave the war-whoop, which a thousand echoes rendered still more terrible.

We fired not a bullet, we shot not an arrow, yet we obtained a signal victory. Soldiers and stragglers threw themselves on the ground to escape from death; while the governor, trusting to his horse's speed, darted away to save himself. Yet his cowardice cost him his life, for his horse tumbling down, he broke his neck. Thus perished the only victim of this campaign.

We took the guns and ammunition of our vanquished opponents, leaving them only one fusil for every ten men, with a number of cartridges sufficient to prevent their starving on their return home. Their leader was buried where he had fallen, and thus ended this mock engagement. Yet another battle was to be fought, which, though successful, did not terminate in quite so ludicrous a manner.

By this time Fonseca was coasting along the shore, but the south-easterly winds preventing him from making Monterey, he entered the Bay of St. Francisco. This settlement is very rich, its population being composed of the descendants of English and American merchants, who had acquired a fortune in the Pacific trade; it is called Yerba buena (the good grass), from the beautiful meadows of wild clover which extend around it for hundreds of miles.

There Fonseca had landed with about two hundred rascals of his own stamp; and his first act of aggression had been to plunder and destroy the little city. The inhabitants, of course, fled in every direction; and on meeting us, they promised the Indians half of the articles which had been plundered from them if we could overpower the invaders and recapture them. I determined to surprise the rascals in the midst of their revellings. I divided my little army into three bands, giving to Gabriel the command of the Apaches, with orders to occupy the shores of the bay and destroy the boats, so that the pirates should not escape to their vessels. The Arrapahoes were left in the prairie around the city to intercept those who might endeavour to escape by land. The third party I commanded myself. It consisted of fifty well-armed Shoshones and fifty-four Mexicans from the coast, almost all of them sons of English or American settlers.

Early in the morning we entered into what had been, a few days before, a pretty little town. It was now nothing but a heap of ruins, among which a few tents had been spread for night shelter. The sailors and pirates were all tipsy, scattered here and there on the ground, in profound sleep. The Sandwichers, collected in a mass, lay near the tents. Near them stood a large pile of boxes, kegs, bags, &c.; it was the plunder. We should have undoubtedly seized upon the brigands without any bloodshed had not the barking of the dogs awakened the Sandwichers, who were up in a moment. They gave the alarm, seized their arms, and closed fiercely and desperately with my left wing, which was composed of the white men.

These suffered a great deal, and broke their ranks, but I wheeled round and surrounded the fellows with my Shoshones, who did not even use their rifles, the lance and tomahawk performing their deadly work in silence, and with such a despatch in ten minutes but few of the miserable islanders lived to complain of their wounds. My Mexicans, having rallied, seized upon Fonseca, and destroyed many of the pirates in their beastly state of intoxication. Only a few attempted to fight, the greater number staggering towards the beach to seek shelter in their boats. But the Apaches had already performed their duty; the smallest boats they had dragged on shore, the largest they had scuttled and sunk. Charging upon the miserable fugitives, they transfixed them with their spears, and our victory was complete.

The pirates remaining on board the two vessels, perceiving how matters stood, saluted us with a few discharges of grape and canister, which did no execution; the sailors, being almost all of them runaway Yankees, were in all probability as drunk as their companions on shore. At last they succeeded in heaving up their anchors, and, favoured by the land breeze, they soon cleared the bay. Since that time nothing has been heard of them.

Fonseca, now certain of his fate, proved to be as mean and cowardly as he had been tyrannical before his defeat. He made me many splendid offers if I would but let him go and try his fortune elsewhere: seeing how much I despised him, he turned to the Mexicans, and tried them one and all; till, finally, perceiving that he had no hope of mercy, he began to blaspheme so horribly that I was obliged to order him to be gagged.

The next morning two companies arrived from Monterey, a council was convened, twenty of the citizens forming themselves into a jury. Fonseca was tried and condemned, both as a traitor and a pirate; and as shooting would have been too great an honour for such a wretch, he was hanged in company with the few surviving Sandwichers.

Our party had suffered a little in the beginning of the action, three Mexicans had been killed and eighteen wounded, as well as two Apaches. Of my Shoshones, not one received the smallest scratch; and the Arrapahoes, who had been left to scour the prairie, joined us a short time after the battle with a few scalps.

The people of San Francisco were true to their promise; the rescued booty was divided into two equal parts, one of which was offered to the Indians, as had been agreed upon. On the eve of our departure, presents were made to us as a token of gratitude, and of course the Indians, having at the first moment of their confederation, made such a successful and profitable expedition, accepted it as a good presage for the future. Their services being no longer required, they turned towards the north, and started for the settlement under the command of Roche, to follow up their original intentions of visiting the Shoshones. As for me, I remained behind at San Francisco.

CHAPTER XVII

Up to the present portion of my narrative, I have lived and kept company with Indians and a few white men who had conformed to their manners and customs. I had seen nothing of civilized life, except during my short sojourn at Monterey, one of the last places in the world to give you a true knowledge of mankind. I was as all Indians are, until they have been deceived and outraged, frank, confiding, and honest. I knew that I could trust my Shoshones, and I thought that I could put confidence in those who were Christians and more civilized. But the reader must recollect that I was but nineteen years of age, and had been brought up as a Shoshone. My youthful ardour had been much inflamed by our late successful conflicts. Had I contented myself with cementing the Indian confederation, I should have done well, but my ideas now went much farther. The circumstances which had just occurred raised in my mind the project of rendering the whole of California Independent, and it-was my ambition to become the liberator of the country.

Aware of the great resources of the territory, of the impassable barriers presented to any large body of men who would invade it from the central parts of Mexico; the more I reflected, the more I was convinced of the feasibility of the undertaking.

I represented to the Californians at San Francisco that, under existing circumstances, they would not be able successfully to oppose any force which the government might send by sea from Acapulco; I pointed out to them that their rulers, too happy in having a pretext for plundering them, would show them no mercy, after what had taken place; and I then represented, that if they were at once to declare their independence, and open their ports to strangers, they would, in a short time, become sufficiently wealthy and powerful to overthrow any expedition that might be fitted out against them. I also proposed, as they had no standing troops, to help them with a thousand warriors; but if so, I expected to have a share in the new government that should be established. My San Francisco friends heard me with attention, and I could see they approved the idea; yet there were only a few from among the many who spoke out, and they would not give any final answer until they had conferred with their countrymen at Monterey. They pledged their honour that immediately on their arrival in that city, they would canvas the business, dispatch messengers to the southern settlements, and let me know the result.