Tucker
Senior Nomad
Posts: 664
Registered: 10-31-2002
Location: El Centenario, BCS
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Lower California
It's been a couple of years since I first posted this. I think it's appropriate to repost.
Six months in the gold mines: from a journal of three years' residence in
Upper and Lower California. 1847-8-9. By E. Gould Buffum - Part 15
CHAPTER XV.
LOWER CALIFORNIA.
THE territory of Lower California (California Baja) has been so much misrepresented, that although partially foreign to the object of this work, I
consider it may not be uninteresting to learn something of a country which, I am satisfied, will one day create almost as much excitement in the old
world as her northern sister has already done. A residence of six months upon the gulf of California entirely changed the opinion I had previously
entertained of the country, which had been based upon reports of those who had merely sailed up or down its rugged coast. It has been described as the
"tail end of an earthquake,"--as possessing a soil upon which nothing could be grown, a hot and sickly climate, and containing no internal resources
of value.
Lower California extends from Cape St. Lucas to a line running one marine league south of San Diego, being bounded on the west by the Pacific Ocean,
and on the east by the gulf of California. I went to Lower California in the full anticipation of living a miserable life for the time it would be
necessary for me to remain there. But how much was I surprised, on landing in La Paz, on the afternoon of July 21st, 1847, to find the prettiest town
I had then seen in California. The streets were lined with willow trees, which, meeting overhead, formed an arch, affording a delicious shade at
midday. The houses
{Begin page no. 160} were all of adobe , plastered white, and thatched with the leaves of the palm-tree, and were most delightfully cool. The whole
beach was lined with palms, date, fig, tamarind, and cocoanut trees, their delicious fruits hanging upon them in clusters.
The detachment of the 7th regiment of New York Volunteers, which was ordered to La Paz, consisted of two companies, "A" and "B," under command of
Lieut. Col. Henry S. Burton. When we arrived, we found that country in a quiet state; and although no American force had ever been stationed there,
the inhabitants appeared very much pleased at our arrival, and manifested no hostility toward us. Our orders were to take possession of, and hold the
country; and in accordance with these we landed, and pitched our camp in the plaza, previous to removing into a large barrack, which was not then
quite completed. When our men were fairly barracked, the officers were allowed to live in rooms in the town, and select such places as they chose. I
found a room in the house of Don Francisco Silva, a Portuguese, who had lived long in the country, and owned the finest vineyard and fruit garden in
the town. Here I lived in a style of Eastern luxuriance. Never before did I, and never shall I desire to enjoy life in greater perfection than I did
there. My room was in the rear of the house, and fronting upon a garden filled with grape-vines, fig, orange, lime, banana, and pomegranate trees,
loaded with fruit. I slept in a swinging cot, surrounded by a silken canopy, as a protection from mosquitoes; and often have I taken my cot, swung it
before the limbs of a large fig-tree, and slept beneath that clear, unclouded sky, rocked to slumber by the delightful evening land-breeze. In the
morning, before breakfast, I would pick from the limbs and eat a few dozens of ripe, fresh figs, by way of giving me an appetite. But the most
delicious portion of this delicious life was the
{Begin page no. 161}
{Begin page no. 14} bathing. In the centre of the garden was a large stone reservoir, kept continually filled with water, and used for the purpose of
irrigation. Into this I would jump at noon, and, standing upon the stony bottom, could gather big clusters of grapes, hanging upon an arbour that
overspread the whole bath. Our military duties were so light that they never interfered with this pleasant mode of life, particularly as our
commanding officer was not very strict in his enforcement of them, and the reveille drum seldom disturbed my morning slumbers.
If an epicure wishes to enjoy life at a low rate, I advise him to go to Lower California. The Gulf affords every variety of fish, and all the tropical
fruits grow in the greatest profusion. For several months we lived upon green turtle, caught directly in front of the town,--some of them weighed one
hundred and fifty pounds, and were sold to us at twenty-five cents apiece. In addition to this, the shores afforded mussels and oysters in great
plenty, and the soil produces every variety of vegetables. Among the fruits of Lower California is one which grows wild, and is peculiar to the
country, called the petalla , the most delicious fruit I ever ate. It grows upon a kind of cactus tree, and somewhat resembles a prickly pear, being
covered with a thorny rind, which, being taken off, exhibits a pulp of a rich red colour. The great peculiarity of this fruit is, that out of a
hundred no two have the same flavour. One resembles in taste a strawberry; another, seems flavoured with winter-green; the next with peach, and so on
through the whole range of cultivated fruits.
The climate of Lower California is equal to that of Italy or Persia. During the whole year, the thermometer never varies ten degrees, usually ranging
from eighty to ninety degrees, except at noon, when it sometimes reaches one hundred. In the winter, no other than thin clothing
{Begin page no. 162} is worn, and an overcoat is never needed. It is an eternal summer. Such gorgeous sunsets and clear star-lit skies, can be found
in no other portion of the world. During my whole residence there, I never saw a cloud as large as my hand upon the sky, and a drop of rain never
fell. There is no rainy season in Lower California; rain usually falls three or four times in the course of a year, but the necessity of it is almost
superseded by the heavy dews which fall every night.
The healthiness of the country is remarkable. During our sojourn there of more than a year, no death from sickness occurred in our detachment of more
than a hundred men, and but two deaths during the whole time in the town, which consisted of fifteen hundred inhabitants. An officer of our regiment
who was stationed in Upper California, and who had been pronounced by his physicians to be in the last stage of pulmonary consumption, as a last
resort went to Lower California. The result was, that in three months he completely regained his health, and I saw him a few days since a stout,
hearty man.
The people of Lower California are a curious race of beings; isolated from their mother country and neglected by her, they have assumed a sort of
independence of thought and action which I never found in Upper California; but a kinder-hearted, more hospitable class of people never lived. Their
thatched houses are ever open for the reception of visiters, and a glass of wine and a paper cigar are always offered to any one who chooses to enter.
The manner in which the people of La Paz live is peculiar. In the main street, the houses are built of adobe , whitewashed, with roofs principally of
cane and palm-tree, laid flat and covered with the shell of the pearl oyster. Some of them are of more than one story in height. Some of the floors
are laid with large square bricks, but by far the greater portion of them are of the native mud.
{Begin page no. 163} In the interior arrangement, little attention is paid to decoration. A few camp-stools covered with leather, or a drum-shaped
seat with a piece of raw hide drawn over it, a table, a bed, and an earthen jar filled with water, usually compose the furniture. The bed is usually
very neat, with clean linen sheets and curtains, with red satin covered pillows. In the other parts of the town and on the outskirts, the houses are
very small, some of them of adobe , others of reeds, plastered with mud, and others are nothing more than a parcel of dried bushes intertwined. These
generally contain but one room, with no more furniture than a few seats, and sometimes a bed made of a dried hide tightly drawn across four posts.
Here father, mother, daughters, and sons, all lie down promiscuously on a hide stretched upon the floor, or, more commonly still, outside in the open
air, and sleep heads and points in most admirable confusion. Indeed, this sleeping out of doors is not confined to any particular class, but is
practised by all during the summer months, and is really a delightful mode of passing the night. The men are generally tall and well-formed, and dress
in the manner of Mexicans of the same class.
But the women, "Heaven's last, best work," how shall I describe them? They are found in Lower California of all shades, from the blackest ebony to the
whitest lily. Where such a variety of colour could have arisen, I cannot imagine. Their dress is usually a skirt, merely reaching to the waist, while
above this, is a white bodice which does not reach quite so high in the neck as is required by the strict rules of feminine modesty. They wear no hats
or bonnets, but in lieu of them a reboso is thrown around their heads, and falls in graceful folds over their shoulders. Many of them go barefoot, and
very few wear stockings, considering them an unnecessary luxury.
Simple as are these articles of dress, the La Paz girls
{Begin page no. 164} delight as much as their more refined sisters in our nothern cities in exhibiting themselves to advantage. I have seen a fair
senorita on her way to church, as barefooted as the day she first trod the earth, carrying on her shoulders a beautiful silk reboso , which must have
cost a hundred dollars. The ladies all indulge in the "amiable weakness" of smoking cigaritos, and the blue wreaths are curling about their dark faces
from morning to night. The state of morals amongst them is as loose as their dress, and the poorer classes are sunk in the lowest state of
prostitution. Cases have often occurred where the bargain for the daughter's dishonour has previously been made with the mother. Strange as this may
appear in a country upon which the light of Christianity has shone, and among a people professing to be Christian, it is, nevertheless, strictly true.
In fact the morals of the whole community, male and female, need improving. An old priest named Gabriel, who, at the time I was there, was Padre
Presidente of Lower California, in open violation of his vows of chastity, was living in the family relation, and had been the means of bringing into
the world no less than eleven children. One of these had taken his name, always travelled with him, and was himself studying for the priesthood. I
witnessed a very amusing incident once with Gabriel, in which I bore a part, and which exhibits the peculiar state of morals among some of the
priesthood of Mexican territory. Gabriel was a most inveterate gambler, and often amused himself, when on his parochial tours, by opening a game of
monte for any of his parishioners who chose to bet against him, although he often found difficulty in obtaining a game, because, as the "knowing ones"
said, "El padre sabe mucho."
Soon after our arrival at La Paz, Gabriel, who resided in Todos Santos, came over to visit his flock in La Paz, and as we were then the lions of the
place, he invited the
{Begin page no. 165} officers to visit him at his temporary residence in town. Soon after we entered, when he had brought out a bottle of good old
wine, he very quietly took from a pocket in his cassock a pack of monte cards, and asked us if we had any objection to a quiet game. Out of courtesy
we told him that we had no objection, and the padre commenced dealing and we betting.
After our amusement had been in progress about half an hour, during which time the padre had beaten us to the amount of a few dollars, the bell of the
church tolled. The padre laid down his cards and said with perfect nonchalance : "Dispensarne Senores, tengo que bautizar un nino." (Excuse me,
gentlemen, I have a child to baptize.) He invited us to proceed to the church with him, and when we arrived, we found a woman with a child anxiously
waiting in the doorway. When, however, the padre was ready to commence operations, it was found that there was no one present to stand in the capacity
of compadre (godfather). Gabriel invited me to perform this service. I told him I was not a Catholic. "No le hace," was his reply; and I accordingly
stood at the baptismal font while the padre sprinkled the youngster and muttered over some Latin, after which, he turned to my companions and myself,
and said, "Ahora, Senores, vamos a jugar otra verz." (Now, gentlemen, we will go and play again); and we accordingly returned to the house and resumed
the game. Gabriel was afterwards taken prisoner by our forces and sent to Mazatlan. He was one of the leading spirits in the revolution that
afterwards occurred, and I doubt not that he came to La Paz, at the time of which I have spoken, to learn our force, and the probabilities of our
being taken.
Among such a people, ignorant but kind, and in such a glorious climate, I passed my days in happiness and pleasure. When the shades of evening
gathered around us, a little knot of us used to assemble beneath a spreading
{Begin page no. 166} tamarind tree, and listen to songs in the enchanting Spanish, sung by a beautiful creature who had undertaken the task of
teaching me her language, and in which, I flatter myself, she found an apt scholar. A ramble then upon the broad, hard beach, beneath that beautiful
starlight, would close our evening's pleasures, or a dance upon a greensward in a grove of fig-trees, prepare us for a sweet slumber.
Sometimes we took little excursions upon the broad and placid bay, and one of these, which extended to a visit to the Pearl Fishery, I will relate:
On a clear, beautiful, moonlit night, in the latter part of October, a party of three of us, in a little fishing-boat, stood out from the Bay of La
Paz, to proceed to the Pearl Fishery of San Lorenzo, about twenty miles distant. We chose the night, for its coolness, and for the delicious land
breeze which blew our little boat so rapidly over the water, and afforded so pleasing a contrast in feeling to the burning sun and stirless atmosphere
of a tropical climate.
To one who has never been buoyed on the waters of the Gulf of California, no description can convey an accurate idea of its stillness and beauty,
when, at the close of the long, sunny day, it is resting beneath the smile of the unclouded, starry sky, which is ever above it. Like a little inland
lake in summer-time, unrippled and mirror-like, its waters were so clear that, even by moonlight, its shell-paved bottom was plainly discernible.
Millions of little emerald-coloured gems of phosphorescent light, were floating over its bosom; and the track of the leaping porpoises and golden
dolphins was followed by a stream of liquid fire.
As we neared "Pichelingo," the entrance to the harbour, we observed on the beach, about a mile distant, a bright light, and as the land breeze was
dying away, we made for it, thinking that probably a party of divers were there, on their way to the fishery. We stood in, and
{Begin page no. 167} soon reached the light, which we found to be a fire built on shore. We landed, hauled up our boat, and found two tall, naked
Indians, engaged in cooking their evening meal of pozzoli , or boiled corn: they were tortoise-shell fishers, and had with them a large quantity of
these most beautiful shells. They invited us to participate in their frugal meal, but we had provisions of our own, and, roasting some salt pork on
their fire and brewing a steaming hot punch, we ate and drank sufficiently, spread our blankets on the sand and lay down to sleep by the side of our
Indian friends. At daylight a good breeze sprang up, and, thanking our Indians for their hospitality and presenting each with a small sum of money, we
again made sail.
About 11 o'clock we rounded the low, sandy point, which forms one side of the entrance to the pretty little bay of San Lorenzo. We were received on
the beach by about three hundred tall, black-looking Indians, prepared to start on their daily occupation of diving. Through the politeness of one of
the "armadores," or owners, six of the busos (divers) were placed in our boat, and we pushed off for the fishing-ground, near the shore of the huge
rocky island of Espiritu Santo. Thirty canoes, filled with divers, started with us, and in half an hour we were on the ground. Here the water was the
most beautifully clear I ever saw. It was some four or five fathoms in depth, but so transparent that the pearly treasures in its bed were as plain to
our sight as though air only separated them from us. The divers divested themselves of every particle of clothing, with the exception of a girdle
tightly bound round their lions, and armed with nothing but a sharp-pointed stick, about a foot in length, used for the double purpose of fighting
sharks and digging up the shell, they commenced their labours. Starring up suddenly on the gunwale of the boat, and giving a shrill whistle, to expel
the air from their lungs, with a dive as graceful as a
{Begin page no. 168} dolphin's leap, they plunged into the water, and made a straight course for the bottom. The dive itself carried them about two
fathoms downward, and every subsequent stroke one fathom. Arrived at the bottom, they commenced digging up the shell, and each one soon returned to
the surface with an armful, which he threw into the boat, and then would dive again for a fresh load, and so they continued for nearly three hours,
with scarcely a moment's intermission. Some brought up fish and sea-weed, others beautiful shells, and one fellow captured a small shark, which he
threw into the boat, very much to the annoyance of us landsmen.
These divers are Indians from the Slake River, in the province of Sonora, who come every season to the coast of California to pursue their avocation.
About three o'clock the whole fleet started for the shore, and, arrived there, each buso carried his pile of shell on the beach, and the crew of each
boat, forming a circle, threw into its centre one-half of their shells. These were the property of the armador , and were first opened, and the pearls
given to him. The old fellow stood by, watching the divers very closely, as some of them are exceedingly expert in suddenly swallowing any valuable
pearl they may chance to find in the owner's pile. The pearls are found in the body of the oyster, of all sizes, from that of a pin's head to that of
a walnut. Sometimes a hundred oysters are opened without finding a single pearl, while in others many are found. When the owner's oysters are all
opened, each diver commences on his own pile; and any valuable pearl he may find is usually sold to the armador on the spot, at about one-half its
real value.
The pearl fisheries of Lower California have been carried on since the earliest discovery of the country, and immense fortunes have been made in them.
There are at present about one hundred vessels yearly engaged in this business
{Begin page no. 169}
{Begin page no. 15} during the fishing season, which continues from May to November. The oysters are all taken by diving, no scientific apparatus
having yet been successfully introduced. A diving-bell was tried by an English company some years ago, but this mode was soon abandoned, from some
cause which I could never learn. The shells of the oysters are piled up on the beach, and sold to whalers and trading vessels that visit the coast.
The oysters being all opened, the divers take their first meal in the day, which consists of nothing more than a bowl of atole , a kind of
water-gruel, with a little dried meat thrown into it. This, and the use of the boats, is all that is furnished by the armador , for which he receives
one-half the pearls.
It was the last day of the fishing season, and before we left, as was always the custom, the little brush houses, temporarily thrown up on the beach,
were fired by the divers, and a general jubilee held. We left them in the most glorious state of intoxication, and setting sail once more, after
spending another night on the beach of Pichelingo, we arrived safely in La Paz the next day at noon.
The great resources of Lower California are its mines of silver, gold, cooper, and iron, the former metal being most abundant. The whole mountain
range, which extends along the coast, is one immense silver mine, equal in richness to those of Mexico or Peru. At the present time only three or four
mines are wrought, owing to the lack of energy in the inhabitants, and the entire absence of scientific mining apparatus,--all the necessary labour
being performed by men and mules. In making inquiries for a place to search for silver in Lower California, the old settlers in reply merely point
their fingers to the mountain range, and say, "Por hay" (that way, anywhere there); and it is a fact, that a shaft may be sunk in any part of the
mountains, and silver ore always extracted, varying in richness from
{Begin page no. 170} fifteen to seventy per cent. of pure silver. The principal silver mines at present wrought are in San Antonio, halfway from La
Paz to Cape St. Lucas. These are owned by the Hidalgos, who send annually out of the country about two hundred thousand dollars worth of plata pina .
Near Loretto are large and extensive copper mines; lead and iron are found everywhere, and gold-washings have always been wrought in the country with
considerable success. If this territory ever becomes settled by an energetic population, millions of wealth will be annually gathered in its borders,
and it will stand side by side in point of riches with the countries that have already made themselves famous by the wealth lying in their bosoms.
As an agricultural country Lower California is rather deficient, although there are many watered valleys which produce in great profusion all the
common culinary vegetables, and wherever the soil can be irrigated, it produces all the tropical fruits and the vegetables of the temperate zones in
great luxuriance. Cotton of the finest staple grows wild upon the plains around La Paz, and cane, from which a very good article of sugar is made,
grows all over the land. Wine is made from the grape of the country, which is of the most delicious kind.
When we went to Lower California, our orders were to assure the inhabitants that their country was to be retained as a portion of the territory of the
United States. The message of President Polk and the proclamation of Commodore Shubrick supported this idea, and upon the representations thus made,
the most influential inhabitants committed themselves to the American cause, and were exceedingly gratified with the expected result. In the month of
November, we were attacked by a Mexican force of six hundred, under command of Don Manuel Pineda, a captain in the Mexican army, who published a long
proclamation threatening death and destruction to the Californians who
{Begin page no. 171} supported our cause. Notwithstanding this, during a severe and trying siege, which lasted six weeks, many of the rancheros from
the interior came in and joined us, and for this whole time a company of native Californians, under the command of the former governor of the
territory, Don Francisco Palaceo, fought bravely with us and rendered us essential service, with the expectation that at the close of the war they
would be protected by us. But what was their consternation when, upon the reception of the news of the treaty of peace, it was found that they had
been forgotten, and that after the promises which had been made, we were obliged to desert them and leave them to the vora-city of their Mexican
masters, by whom they are now of course viewed in the light of traitors to their country.
Never in the history of wars among civilized nations was there a greater piece of injustice committed, and the United States government deserves for
it the imprecations of all who have a sense of justice remaining in them. The probability is, that some ignorant scribbler, who had cast his eyes upon
the rugged rocks that girdle her sea-coast, had represented Lower California as a worthless country, and that, forgetting justice and good faith, our
government left this compromised people to suffer at the hands of their own brethren. The result was that many of them were obliged to fly from their
country and go to Upper California, their property was confiscated and they can never return to their homes but with the brand of traitors resting
upon them.
It is the duty of our government to repair if possible the wrong thus done. Lower California must at some time inevitably be a territory of the United
States. It is a peculiarity of the Yankee race that, like the western farmer, they only want to possess "all the land that joins them;" and this
country, isolated as it is from Mexico, inhabited by a people who heartily hate the institutions of their
{Begin page no. 172} mother country, neglected by her, and lying in such close contiguity to our possessions on the Pacific coast, must fall into our
hands, and, instead of being a worthless territory, we should find it our greatest acquisition on the Pacific. The gulf of California is one of the
finest sheets of water in the world, and the inner coast is indented with many safe and land-locked harbours. The bay of La Paz is safe and large, and
the establishment of a naval depot at this point would keep in check the whole western coast of Mexico. Mexico does not desire this territory, and no
people were ever more anxious for a separation from the mother country than are the inhabitants of Lower California. It would be an easy purchase, and
if necessary an easy conquest, and unless it is done by the general government, a second Texas affair will occur there before many years pass. When
Upper California becomes more thickly populated, and the progress westward is stopped by the surges of the Pacific, the northern territory of Oregon
being already ours, the progress must inevitably be southward, and even now ideas are entertained of seizing the country.
In order to prevent the disastrous consequences which must ensue from a re-enaction of the Texas tragedies, and to render justice to a people whose
confidence has been abused by our government, I would respectfully recommend to the home government the immediate commencement of negotiations for the
purchase of this valuable and interesting territory. The appointment of commissioners to report upon its resources and its value in a naval point of
view, would be speedily followed by its purchase, and thus would be prevented the piratical expeditions for the seizure of the country which otherwise
will soon be under taken.
THE END.
\"I think it would be a good idea.\"
-- Mahatma Gandhi, when asked what he thought of Western civilization
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Bajalero
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Registered: 11-24-2003
Location: todos santos/ rcho san diego
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One of my favorite little books Tucker. Discovered it at 17 at my high school many many years ago. I should return it someday. It is one of those
books that leaves you wanting more.
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bajalou
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 4459
Registered: 3-11-2004
Location: South of the broder
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What a great story - but I think I'm glad the USA didn't buy it!!!
No Bad Days
\"Never argue with an idiot. People watching may not be able to tell the difference\"
\"The trouble with doing nothing is - how do I know when I\'m done?\"
Nomad Baja Interactive map
And in the San Felipe area - check out Valle Chico area |
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Tucker
Senior Nomad
Posts: 664
Registered: 10-31-2002
Location: El Centenario, BCS
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Let's cycle it through again.
\"I think it would be a good idea.\"
-- Mahatma Gandhi, when asked what he thought of Western civilization
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64854
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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| Quote: | Originally posted by bajalou
What a great story - but I think I'm glad the USA didn't buy it!!!
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Yes, actually in a possible communication breakdown, we let Mexico have Lower California as a face saving gesture after capturing the peninsula during
the Mexican War. The Mexicans repelled the gringos at San Jose del Cabo and Mulege in the early battles on the peninsula.
Having a long finger of American soil in front of Sonora and Sinaloa was degrading per the Mexican negotiators. American expeditions into the desert
wilderness didn't post a good enough incentive for the U.S. to keep peninsular California... So, it was handed back to Mexico...
On a personal note, I am sure happy about that! However, back after the war, many locals (looking forward to the prosperity of being part of America)
were considered traitors by some Mexicans. Mexico City pretty much ignored distant Baja until Echeveria built the highway 1970-1973+.
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thebajarunner
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3718
Registered: 9-8-2003
Location: Arizona....."Free at last from crumbling Cali
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Mood: muy amable
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David,
Your post brings back memories of the very earliest graffiti that I saw in Baja in 1971.
Painted on the rocks at Santa Ynez (we never called it Catavina) , on the pavement below Villa Constitucion, on the rocks headed to Tecate and over
the Rumirosa.
LEA
LEA
LEA
I finally figured it out... it stood for Luis Echeverria Alvarez, el presidente de Mexico.
Took a long time for those letters to fade away.
Baja Arriba!!
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64854
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Yah, he was a hero... to the Baja folks...
No Catavina (as we know it now) existed before Hwy.1 was paved, Rancho Santa Ynez was the big place then. Catavina was an abandoned ranch near where
they built the Parador/El Presidente Hotel (Now La Pinta Hotel).
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bajajudy
Elite Nomad
Posts: 6886
Registered: 10-4-2004
Location: San Jose del Cabo,BCS
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Mijares was the hero here in San Jose and has a street named after him for repelling the evil norte americanos.
Viva Jose!
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