The Forty-Niners | Page 2

the mission had
disappeared from the land, and the land was inhabited by a race calling
itself the _gente de razón_, in presumed contradistinction to human
beasts with no reasoning powers. Of this period the lay reader finds
such conflicting accounts that he either is bewildered or else boldly
indulges his prejudices. According to one school of writers--mainly
those of modern fiction--California before the advent of the gringo was
a sort of Arcadian paradise, populated by a people who were polite,
generous, pleasure-loving, high-minded, chivalrous, aristocratic, and
above all things romantic. Only with the coming of the loosely sordid,
commercial, and despicable American did this Arcadia fade to the
strains of dying and pathetic music. According to another school of
writers--mainly authors of personal reminiscences at a time when
growing antagonism was accentuating the difference in ideals--the
"greaser" was a dirty, idle, shiftless, treacherous, tawdry vagabond,
dwelling in a disgracefully primitive house, and backward in every
aspect of civilization.
The truth, of course, lies somewhere between the two extremes, but its
exact location is difficult though not impossible to determine. The
influence of environment is sometimes strong, but human nature does
not differ much from age to age. Racial characteristics remain
approximately the same. The Californians were of several distinct
classes. The upper class, which consisted of a very few families,
generally included those who had held office, and whose pride led them
to intermarry. Pure blood was exceedingly rare. Of even the best the
majority had Indian blood; but the slightest mixture of Spanish was a
sufficient claim to gentility. Outside of these "first families," the bulk
of the population came from three sources: the original military
adjuncts to the missions, those brought in as settlers, and convicts
imported to support one side or another in the innumerable political
squabbles. These diverse elements shared one sentiment only--an
aversion to work. The feeling had grown up that in order to maintain
the prestige of the soldier in the eyes of the natives it was highly
improper that he should ever do any labor. The settlers, of whom there
were few, had themselves been induced to immigrate by rather

extravagant promises of an easy life. The convicts were only what was
to be expected.
If limitations of space and subject permitted, it would be pleasant to
portray the romantic life of those pastoral days. Arcadian conditions
were then more nearly attained than perhaps at any other time in the
world's history. The picturesque, easy, idle, pleasant, fiery, aristocratic
life has been elsewhere so well depicted that it has taken on the quality
of rosy legend. Nobody did any more work than it pleased him to do;
everybody was well-fed and happy; the women were beautiful and
chaste; the men were bold, fiery, spirited, gracefully idle; life was a
succession of picturesque merrymakings, lovemakings, intrigues, visits,
lavish hospitalities, harmless politics, and revolutions. To be sure, there
were but few signs of progressive spirit. People traveled on horseback
because roads did not exist. They wore silks and diamonds, lace and
satin, but their houses were crude, and conveniences were simple or
entirely lacking. Their very vehicles, with wooden axles and wheels
made of the cross-section of a tree, were such as an East African savage
would be ashamed of. But who cared? And since no one wished
improvements, why worry about them?
Certainly, judged by the standards of a truly progressive race, the
Spanish occupation had many shortcomings. Agriculture was so little
known that at times the country nearly starved. Contemporary travelers
mention this fact with wonder. "There is," says Ryan, "very little land
under cultivation in the vicinity of Monterey. That which strikes the
foreigner most is the utter neglect in which the soil is left and the
indifference with which the most charming sites are regarded. In the
hands of the English and Americans, Monterey would be a beautiful
town adorned with gardens and orchards and surrounded with
picturesque walks and drives. The natives are, unfortunately, too
ignorant to appreciate and too indolent even to attempt such
improvement." And Captain Charles Wilkes asserts that
"notwithstanding the immense number of domestic animals in the
country, the Californians were too lazy to make butter or cheese, and
even milk was rare. If there was a little good soap and leather
occasionally found, the people were too indolent to make them in any

quantity. The earth was simply scratched a few inches by a mean and
ill-contrived plow. When the ground had been turned up by repeated
scratching, it was hoed down and the clods broken by dragging over it
huge branches of trees. Threshing was performed by spreading the cut
grain on a spot of hard ground, treading it with cattle, and after taking
off the straw throwing the remainder up in the breeze, much