CONTENTS:

CHAPTER I. OF JUNIPERO SERRA, AND THE PROPOSED SETTLEMENT OF ALTA 
CALIFORNIA.

CHAPTER II. HOW FATHER JUNIPERO CAME TO SAN DIEGO.

CHAPTER III. OF THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSION AT SAN DIEGO.

CHAPTER IV. OF PORTOLA'S QUEST FOR THE HARBOUR OF MONTEREY, AND THE 
FOUNDING OF THE MISSION OF SAN CARLOS.

CHAPTER V. HOW FATHER JUNIPERO ESTABLISHED THE MISSIONS OF SAN ANTONIO DE
PADUA, SAN GABRIEL, AND SAN LOUIS OBISPO.

CHAPTER VI. OF THE TRAGEDY AT SAN DIEGO, AND THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSIONS
OF SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO, SAN FRANCISCO, AND SANTA CLARA.

CHAPTER VII. OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE MISSION OF SAN BUENAVENTURA, AND
OF THE DEATH AND CHARACTER OF FATHER JUNIPERO.

CHAPTER VIII. HOW THE MISSIONS OF SANTA BARBARA, LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION,
SANTA CRUZ, SOLEDAD, SAN JOSE, SAN JUAN BAUTISTA, SAN MIGUEL, SAN 
FERNANDO, SAN LUIS REY, AND SANTA LNEZ, WERE ADDED TO THE LIST.

CHAPTER IX. OF THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSIONS OF SAN RAFAEL AND SAN 
FRANCISCO SOLANO.

CHAPTER X. OF THE DOWNFALL OF THE MISSIONS OF CALIFORNIA.

CHAPTER XI. OF THE OLD MISSIONS, AND LIFE IN THEM.

CHAPTER XII. OF THE MISSION SYSTEM IN CALIFORNIA, AND ITS RESULTS.



CHAPTER I.
OF JUNIPERO SERRA, AND THE PROPOSED SETTLEMENT OF ALTA CALIFORNIA.

On the 1st of July, 1769 - a day forever memorable in the annals of 
California - a small party of men, worn out by the fatigues and hardships 
of their long and perilous journey from San Fernandez de Villicatà, came 
in sight of the beautiful Bay of San Diego. They formed the last division 
of a tripartite expedition which had for its object the political and 
spiritual conquest of the great Northwest coast of the Pacific; and among 
their number were Gaspar de Portolà, the colonial governor and military 
commander of the enterprise; and Father Junipero Serra, with whose name 
and achievements the early history of California is indissolubly bound up. 

This expedition was the outcome of a determination on the part of Spain to 
occupy and settle the upper of its California provinces, or Alta 
California, as it was then called, and thus effectively prevent the more 
than possible encroachments of the Russians and the English. Fully alive 
to the necessity of immediate and decisive action, Carlos III. had sent 
Jose de Galvez out to New Spain, giving him at once large powers as 
visitador general of the provinces, and special instructions to establish 
military posts at San Diego and Monterey. Galvez was a man of remarkable 
zeal, energy, and organizing ability, and after the manner of his age and 
church he regarded his undertaking as equally important from the religious 
and from the political side. The twofold purpose of his expedition was, as 
he himself stated it, "to establish the Catholic faith among a numerous 
heathen people, submerged in the obscure darkness of paganism, and to 
extend the dominion of the King, our Lord, and protect this peninsula from 
the ambitious views of foreign nations." From the first it was his 
intention that the Cross and the flag of Spain should be carried side by 
side in the task of dominating and colonizing the new country. Having, 
therefore, gathered his forces together at Santa Ana, near La Paz, he sent 
thence to Loreto, inviting Junipero Serra, the recently appointed 
President of the California Missions, to visit him in his camp. Loreto was 
a hundred leagues distant; but this was no obstacle to the religious 
enthusiast, whose lifelong dream it had been to bear the faith far and 
wide among the barbarian peoples of the Spanish world. He hastened to La 
Paz, and in the course of a long interview with Galvez not only promised 
his hearty co-operation, but also gave great help in the arrangement of 
the preliminary details of the expedition. 

In the opportunity thus offered him for the missionary labour in hitherto 
unbroken fields, Father Junipero saw a special manifestation both of the 
will and of the favour of God. He threw himself into the work with 
characteristic ardour and determination, and Galvez quickly realized that 
his own efforts were now to be ably seconded by a man who, by reason of 
his devotion, courage, and personal magnetism, might well seem to have 
been providentially designated for the task which had been put into his 
hands. 

Miguel Joseph Serra, now known only by his adopted name of Junipero, which 
he took out of reverence for the chosen companion of St. Francis, was a 
native of the Island of Majorca, where he was born, of humble folk, in 
1713. According to the testimony of his intimate friend and biographer, 
Father Francesco Palou, his desires, even during boyhood, were turned 
towards the religious life. Before he was seventeen he entered the 
Franciscan Order, a regular member of which he became a year or so later. 
His favorite reading during his novitiate, Palou tells us, was in the 
Lives of the Saints, over which he would pore day after day with 
passionate and ever-growing enthusiasm; and from these devout studies 
sprang an intense ambition to "imitate the holy and venerable men" who had 
given themselves up to the grand work of carrying the Gospel among 
gentiles and savages. The missionary idea thus implanted became the 
dominant purpose of his life, and neither the astonishing success of his 
sermons, nor the applause with which his lectures were received when he 
was made professor of theology, sufficed to dampen his apostolic zeal. 
Whatever work was given him to do, he did with all his heart, and with all 
his might, for such was the man's nature; but everywhere and always he 
looked forward to the mission field as his ultimate career. He was 
destined, however, to wait many years before his chance came. At length, 
in 1749, after making many vain petitions to be set apart for foreign 
service, he and Palou were offered places in a body of priests who, at the 
urgent request of the College of San Fernando, in Mexico, were then being 
sent out as recruits to various parts of the New World. The hour had come; 
and in a spirit of gratitude and joy too deep for words, Junipero Serra 
set his face towards the far lands which were henceforth to be his home. 

The voyage out was long and trying. In the first stage of it - from 
Majorca to Malaga - the dangers and difficulties of seafaring were varied, 
if not relieved by strange experiences, of which Palou has left us a 
quaint and graphic account. Their vessel was a small English coaster, in 
command of a stubborn cross-patch of a captain, who combined navigation 
with theology, and whose violent protestations and fondness for doctrinal 
dispute allowed his Catholic passengers, during the fifteen days of their 
passage, scarcely a minute's peace. His habit was to declaim chosen texts 
out of his "greasy old" English Bible, putting his own interpretation upon 
them; then, if when challenged by Father Junipero, who "was well trained 
in dogmatic theology," he could find no verse to fit his argument, he 
would roundly declare that the leaf he wanted happened to be torn. Such 
methods are hardly praiseworthy. But this was not the worst. Sometimes the 
heat of argument would prove too much for him, and then, I grieve to say, 
he would even threaten to pitch his antagonists overboard, and shape his 
course for London. However, despite this unlooked-for danger, Junipero and 
his companions finally reached Malaga, whence they proceeded first to 
Cadiz, and then, after some delay, to Vera Cruz. The voyage across from 
Cadiz alone occupied ninety-nine days, though of these, fifteen were spent 
at Porto Rico, where Father Junipero improved the time by establishing a 
mission. Hardships were not lacking; for water and food ran short, and the 
vessel encountered terrific storms. But "remembering the end for which 
they had come," the father "felt no fear, and his own buoyancy did much to 
keep up the flagging spirits of those about him. Even when Vera Cruz was 
reached, the terrible journey was by no means over, for a hundred Spanish 
leagues lay between that port and the City of Mexico. Too impatient to 
wait for the animals and wagons which had been promised for 
transportation, but which, through some oversight or blunder, had not yet 
arrived in Vera Cruz, Junipero set out to cover the distance on foot. The 
strain brought on an ulcer in one of his legs, from which he suffered all 
the rest of his life; and it is highly probable that he would have died on 
the road but for the quite unexpected succor which came to him more than 
once in the critical hour. This, according to his wont, he did not fail to 
refer directly to the special favour of the Virgin and St. Joseph. 

For nearly nineteen years after his arrival in Mexico, Junipero was 
engaged in active missionary work, mainly among the Indians of the Sierra 
Gorda, whom he successfully instructed in the first principles of the 
Catholic faith and in the simpler arts of peace. Then came his selection 
as general head, or president, of the Missions of California, the charge 
of which, on the expulsion of the Jesuits, in 1768, had passed over to the 
Franciscans. These, thirteen in number, were all in Lower California, for 
no attempt had as yet been made to evangelize the upper province. This, 
however, the indefatigable apostle was now to undertake by co-operating 
with Jose de Galvez in his proposed northwest expedition(1). Junipero was 
now fifty-five years of age, and could look back upon a career of effort 
and accomplishment which to any less active man might well seem to have 
earned repose for body and mind. Yet great as his services to church and 
civilization had been in the past, by far the most important part of his 
life-work still lay before him. 

(1. In the sequel, it may here be noted, the Franciscans ceded Baja 
California to the Dominicans, keeping Alta California to themselves.) 



CHAPTER II. 
HOW FATHER JUNIPERO CAME TO SAN DIEGO.

As a result of the conference between Galvez and Father Junipero, it was 
decided that their joint expedition should be sent out in two portions - 
one by sea and one by land; the land portion being again sub-divided into 
two, in imitation, Palou informs us, of the policy of the patriarch 
Joseph, "so that if one came to misfortune, the other might still be 
saved." It was arranged that four missionaries should go into the ships, 
and one with the advance-detachment of the land-force, the second part of 
which was to include the president himself. So far as the work of the 
missionaries was concerned their immediate purpose was to establish three 
settlements - one at San Diego, a second at Monterey, and a third on a 
site to be selected, about midway between the two, which was to be called 
San Buenaventura. The two divisions of the land-force were under the 
leadership of Captain Fernando Rivera y Moncada and Governor Portolà 
respectively. The ships were to carry all the heavier portions of the camp 
equipage, provisions, household goods, vestments and sacred vessels; the 
land-parties were to take with them herds and flocks from Loreto. The 
understanding was that whichever party first reached San Diego was to wait 
there twenty days for the rest, and in the event of their failure to 
arrive within that time, to push on to Monterey. 

The sea-detachment of the general expedition - the "Seraphic and Apostolic 
Squadron," as Palou calls it, was composed of three ships - the San 
Carlos, the San Antonio, and the San Joseph. A list, fortunately 
preserved, gives all the persons on board the San Carlos, a vessel of 
about 200 tons only, and the flagship of Don Vicente Vila, the commander 
of the marine division. They were as follows: - the commander himself; a 
lieutenant in charge of a company of soldiers; a missionary; the captain, 
pilot and surgeon; twenty-five soldiers; the officers and crew of the 
ship, twenty-five in all; the baker, the cook and two assistants; and two 
blacksmiths: total, sixty-two souls. An inventory shows that the vessel 
was provisioned for eight months. 

The San Carlos left La Paz on the 9th of January; the San Antonio on the 
15th of February; the San Joseph on the 16th of June. All the vessels met 
with heavy storms, and the San Carlos, being driven sadly out of her 
route, did not reach San Diego till twenty days after the San Antonio, 
though dispatched some five weeks earlier. We shudder to read that of her 
crew but one sailor and the cook were left alive; the rest, along with 
many of the soldiers, having succumbed to the scurvy. The San Antonio also 
lost eight of her crew from the same dreadful disease. These little 
details serve better than any general description to give us an idea of 
the horrible conditions of Spanish seamanship in the middle of the 
eighteenth century. As for the San Joseph, she never reached her 
destination at all, though where and how she met her fate remains one of 
the dark mysteries of the ocean. Two small points in connection with her 
loss are perhaps sufficiently curious to merit notice. In the first place, 
she was the only one of the ships that had no missionary on board; and 
secondly, she was called after the very saint who had been named special 
patron of the entire undertaking. 

The original plan, as we have seen, had been that Father Junipero should 
accompany the governor in the second division of the land-expedition; but 
this, when the day fixed for departure came, was found to be quite 
impossible owing to the ulcerous sore on his leg, which had been much 
aggravated by the exertions of his recent hurried journey from Loreto to 
La Paz and back. Greatly chafing under the delay, he was none the less 
obliged to postpone his start for several weeks. At length, on the 28th of 
March, in company with two soldiers and a servant, he mounted his mule and 
set out. The event showed that he had been guilty of undue haste, for he 
suffered terribly on the rough way, and on reaching San Xavier, whither he 
went to turn over the management of the Lower California missions to 
Palou, who was then settled there, his condition was such that his friend 
implored him to remain behind, and allow him (Palou) to go forward in his 
stead. But of this Junipero would not hear, for he regarded himself as 
specially chosen and called by God for the work to which he stood, body 
and soul, committed. "Let us speak no more of this," he said. "I have 
placed all my faith in God, through whose goodness I hope to reach not 
only San Diego, to plant and fix there the standard of the Holy Cross, but 
even as far as Monterey." And Palou, seeing that Junipero was not to be 
turned aside, wisely began to talk of other things. 

After three days devoted to business connected with the missions of the 
lower province, the indomitable father determined to continue his journey, 
notwithstanding the fact that, still totally unable to move his leg, he 
had to be lifted by two men into the saddle. We may imagine that poor 
Palou found it hard enough to answer his friend's cheery farewells, and 
watched him with sickness of heart as he rode slowly away. It seemed 
little likely indeed that they would ever meet again on this side of the 
grave. But Junipero's courage never gave out. Partly for rest and partly 
for conference with those in charge, he lingered awhile at the missions 
along the way; but, nevertheless, presently came up with Portolà and his 
detachment, with whom he proceeded to Villacatà. Here during a temporary 
halt, he founded a mission which was dedicated to San Fernando, King of 
Castile and Leon. But the worst experiences of the journey were still in 
store. For when the party was ready to move forward again towards San 
Diego, which, as time was fast running on, the commander was anxious to 
reach with the least possible delay, it was found that Junipero's leg was 
in such an inflamed condition that he could neither stand, nor sit, nor 
sleep. For a few leagues he persevered, without complaint to any one, and 
then collapsed. Portolà urged him to return at once to San Fernando for 
the complete repose in which alone there seemed any chance of recovery, 
but after his manner Junipero refused; nor, out of kindly feeling for the 
tired native servants, would he ever hear of the litter which the 
commander thereupon proposed to have constructed for his transportation. 
The situation was apparently beyond relief, when, after prayer to God, the 
padre called to him one of the muleteers. "Son," he said - the 
conversation is reported in full by Palou, from whose memoir of his friend 
it is here translated - "do you not know how to make a remedy for the 
ulcer on my foot and leg?" And the muleteer replied: "Father, how should I 
know of any remedy? Am I a surgeon? I am a muledriver, and can only cure 
harness-wounds on animals." "Then, son." rejoined Junipero, "consider that 
I am an animal, and that this ulcer is a harness-wound . . . and prepare 
for me the same medicament as you would make for a beast." Those who heard 
this request smiled. And the muleteer obeyed; and mixing certain herbs 
with hot tallow, applied the compound to the ulcerated leg, with the 
astonishing result that the sufferer slept that night in absolute comfort, 
and was perfectly able the next morning to undertake afresh the fatigues 
of the road. 

Of the further incidents of the tedious journey it is needless to write. 
It is enough to say that for forty-six days - from the 15th of May to the 
1st of July - the little party plodded on, following the track of the 
advance-division of the land-expedition under Rivera y Moncada. With what 
joy and gratitude they at last looked down upon the harbour of San Diego, 
and realized that the first object of their efforts had now indeed been 
achieved, may be readily imagined. Out in the bay lay the San Carlos and 
the San Antonio, and on the shore were the tents of the men who had 
preceded them, and of whose safety they were now assured; and when, with 
volley after volley, they announced their arrival, ships and camp replied 
in glad salute. And this responsive firing was continued, says Palou, in 
his lively description of the scene, "until, all having alighted, they 
were ready to testify their mutual love by close embraces and affectionate 
rejoicing to see the expeditions thus joined, and at their desired 
destination." Yet one cannot but surmise that the delights of reunion were 
presently chilled when those who had thus been spared to come together 
fell into talk over the companions who had perished by the way. History 
has little to tell us of such details; but the sympathetic reader will 
hardly fail to provide them for himself. 

The condition of things which the governor and the president found 
confronting them on their arrival was indeed the reverse of satisfactory. 
Of the one hundred and thirty or so men comprising the combined companies, 
many were seriously ill; some it was necessary to dispatch at once with 
the San Antonio back to San Blas for additional supplies and 
reinforcements; a further number had to be detailed for the expedition to 
Monterey, which, in accordance with the explicit instructions of the 
visitador general it was decided to send out immediately. All this left 
the San Diego camp extremely short-handed, but there was no help for it. 
To reach Monterey at all costs was Portolà's next duty; and on the 14th of 
July, with a small party which included Fathers Crespi and Gomez, he 
commenced his northwest march. 



CHAPTER III. 
OF THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSION AT SAN DIEGO.

In the meanwhile, says Palou, "that fervent zeal which continually glowed 
and burned in the heart of our venerable Father Junipero, did not permit 
him to forget the principal object of his journey." As soon as Portolà had 
left the encampment, he began to busy himself with the problem of the 
mission which, it had been determined, should be founded on that spot. 
Ground was carefully chosen with an eye to the requirements, not only of 
the mission itself, but also of the pueblo, or village, which in course of 
time would almost certainly grow up about it(1); and on the 16th of July - 
the day upon which, as the anniversary of a great victory over the Moors 
in 1212, the Spanish church solemnly celebrated the Triumph of the Holy 
Cross - the first mission of Upper California was dedicated to San Diego 
de Alcalà, after whom the bay had been named by Sebastian Viscaino, the 
explorer, many years before. The ceremonies were a repetition of those 
which had been employed in the founding of the Mission of San Fernando at 
Villicatà; the site was blessed and sprinkled with holy water; a great 
cross reared, facing the harbour; the mass celebrated; the Venite Creator 
Spiritus sung. And, as before, where the proper accessories failed, Father 
Junipero and his colleagues fell back undeterred upon the means which 
Heaven had actually put at their disposal. The constant firing of the 
troops supplied the lack of musical instruments, and the smoke of the 
powder was accepted as a substitute for incense. Father Palou's brief and 
unadorned description will not prove altogether wanting in impressiveness 
for those who in imagination can conjure up a picture of the curious, yet 
dramatic scene. 

The preliminary work of foundation thus accomplished, Father Junipero 
gathered about him the few healthy men who could be spared from the 
tending of their sick comrades and routine duties, and with their help 
erected a few rude huts, one of which was immediately consecrated as a 
temporary chapel. So far as his own people were concerned, the padre's 
labours were for the most part of a grievous character, for, during the 
first few months, the records tell us, disease made such fearful ravages 
among the soldiers, sailors and servants, that ere long the number of 
persons at this settlement had been reduced to twenty. But the tragedy of 
these poor nameless fellows - (it was Junipero's pious hope that they 
might all be named in Heaven) - after all hardly forms part of our proper 
story. The father's real work was to lie among the native Indians, and it 
is with his failures and successes in this direction that the main 
interest of our California mission annals is connected. 

They were not an attractive people, these "gentiles" of a country which to 
the newcomers must itself have seemed an outer garden of Paradise; and 
Junipero's first attempts to gain their good will met with very slight 
encouragement. During the ceremonies attendant upon the foundation and 
dedication of the mission, they had stood round in silent wonder, and now 
they showed themselves responsive to the strangers' advances to the extent 
of receiving whatever presents were offered, provided the gift was not in 
the form of anything to eat. The Spaniards' food they would not even 
touch, apparently regarding it as the cause of the dire sickness of the 
troops. And this, in the long run, remarks Palou, was without doubt 
"singularly providential," owing to the rapid depletion of the stores. 
Ignorance of the Indians' language, of course, added seriously to the 
father's difficulties in approaching them, and presently their thefts of 
cloth, for the possession of which they developed a perfect passion, and 
other depredations, rendered them exceedingly troublesome. Acts of 
violence became more and more common, and by-and-bye, a determined and 
organized attack upon the mission, in which the assailants many times 
outnumbered their opponents, led to a pitched battle, and the death of one 
of the Spanish servants. This was the crisis; for, happily, like a 
thunderstorm, the disturbance, which seemed so threatening of future ill, 
cleared the air, at any rate for a time; and the kindness with which the 
Spaniards treated their wounded foes evidently touched the savage heart. 
Little by little a few Indians here and there began to frequent the 
mission; and with the hearty welcome accorded them their numbers soon 
increased. Among them there happened to be a boy, of some fifteen years of 
age, who showed himself more tractable than his fellows, and whom Father 
Junipero determined to use as an instrument for his purpose. When the lad 
had picked up a smattering of Spanish, the padre sent him to his people 
with the promise that if he were allowed to bring back one of the 
children, the youngster should not only by baptism be made a Christian, 
but should also (and here the good father descended to a bribe) be tricked 
out like the Spaniards themselves, in handsome clothes. A few days later, 
a "gentile," followed by a large crowd, appeared with a child in his arms, 
and the padre, filled with unutterable joy, at once threw a piece of cloth 
over it, and called upon one of the soldiers to stand godfather to this 
first infant of Christ. But, alas! just as he was preparing to sprinkle 
the holy water, the natives snatched the child from him, and made off with 
it (and the cloth) to their own ranchería. The soldiers who stood round as 
witnesses were furious at this insult, and, left to themselves, would have 
inflicted summary punishment upon the offenders. But the good father 
pacified them, attributing his failure - of which he was wont to speak 
tearfully to the end of his life - to his own sins and unworthiness. 
However, this first experience in convert-making was fortunately not 
prophetic, for though it is true that many months elapsed before a single 
neophyte was gained for the mission, and though more serious troubles were 
still to come, in the course of the next few years a number of the 
aborigines, both children and adults, were baptized. 

(1. The mission was transferred in 1874 from the location selected by 
Junipero to a site some two miles distant, up the river.) 



CHAPTER IV. 
OF PORTOLA'S QUEST FOR THE HARBOUR OF MONTEREY, AND THE FOUNDING OF THE 
MISSION OF SAN CARLOS.

While Junipero and his companions were thus engaged in planting the faith 
among the Indians of San Diego, Portolà's expedition was meeting with 
unexpected trials and disappointments. The harbour of Monterey had been 
discovered and described by Viscaino at the beginning of the seventeenth 
century, and it seemed no very difficult matter to reach it by way of the 
coast. But either the charts misled them, or their own calculations erred, 
or the appearance of the landscape was strangely deceptive - at any rate, 
for whatever reason or combination of reasons, the exploring party passed 
the harbour without recognizing it, though actually lingering awhile on 
the sand hills overlooking the bay. Half persuaded in their bewilderment 
that some great catastrophe must, since Viscaino's observations, have 
obliterated the port altogether, they pressed northward another forty 
leagues, and little dreaming of the importance attaching to their 
wanderings, crossed the Coast range, and looked down thence over the Santa 
Clara valley and the "immense arm" of San Francisco Bay. By this time the 
rainy season had set in, and convinced as they now were that they must, 
through some oversight or ill-chance, have missed the object of their 
quest, they determined to retrace their steps, and institute another and 
more thorough search. On again reaching the neighborhood of Monterey, they 
spent a whole fortnight in systematic exploration, but still, strangely 
enough, without discovering "any indication or landmark" of the harbour. 
Baffled and disheartened, therefore, the leaders resolved to abandon the 
enterprise. They then erected two large wooden crosses as memorials of 
their visit, and cutting on one of these the words - "Dig at the foot of 
this and you will find a writing" - buried there a brief narrative of 
their experiences. This is reproduced in the diary of Father Crespé(1); 
and its closing words have a touch of simple pathos: "At last, undeceived, 
and despairing of finding it [the harbour] after so many efforts, 
sufferings and labours, and having left of all our provisions but fourteen 
small sacks of flour, our expedition leaves this place to-day for San 
Diego; I beg of Almighty God to guide it, and for thee, voyager, that His 
divine providence may lead thee to the harbour of salvation. Done in this 
Bay of Pinos, the 9th of December, 1769." On the cross on the other side 
of Point Pinos was cut with a razor this legend: - "The land expedition 
returned to San Diego for want of provisions, this 9th day of December, 
1769." 

The little party - or more correctly speaking - what was left of it, did 
not reach San Diego till the 25th of the following month, having in their 
march down suffered terribly from hunger, exposure, wet, fatigue and 
sickness. Depressed themselves, they found nothing to encourage them in 
the mission and camp, where death had played havoc among those they had 
left behind them six months before, and where the provisions were so fast 
running low that only the timely reappearance of the San Antonio, long 
overdue, would save the survivors from actual starvation. Perhaps it is 
hardly surprising that, under these circumstances, Portolà's courage 
should have failed him, and that he should have decided upon a return to 
Mexico. He caused an inventory of all available provisions to be taken, 
and calculating that, with strict economy, and setting aside what would be 
required for the journey back to San Fernando, they might last till 
somewhat beyond the middle of March, he gave out that unless the San 
Antonio should arrive by the 20th of that month, he should on that day 
abandon San Diego, and start south. But if the governor imagined for a 
moment that he could persuade the padre presidente to fall in with this 
arrangement, he did not know his man. Junipero firmly believed, despite 
the failure of Portolà's expedition, that the harbour of Monterey still 
existed, and might be found; he even interested Vicente Vila in a plan of 
his own for reaching it by sea; and he furthermore made up his mind that, 
come what might, nothing should ever induce him to turn his back upon his 
work. Then a wonderful thing happened. On the 19th of March - the very day 
before that fixed by the governor for his departure, and when everything 
was in readiness for to-morrow's march - the sail of a ship appeared far 
out at sea; and though the vessel presently disappeared towards the 
northwest, it returned four days later and proved to be none other than 
the San Antonio, bearing the much needed succour. She had passed up 
towards Monterey in the expectation of finding the larger body of settlers 
there, and had only put back to San Diego when unexpectedly, (and as it 
seemed, providentially), she had run short of water. It was inevitable 
that Father Junipero should see in this series of happenings the very hand 
of God - the more so as the day of relief chanced to be the festival of 
St. Joseph, who, as we have noted, was the patron of the mission 
enterprise. 

The arrival of the San Antonio put an entirely new complexion upon 
affairs; and, relieved of immediate anxiety, Portolà now resolved upon a 
second expedition in quest of Monterey. Two divisions, one for sea, the 
other for land, were accordingly made ready; the former, which included 
Junipero, started in the San Antonio, on the 16th of April; the latter, 
under the leadership of Portolà, a day later. Strong adverse winds 
interfered with the vessel, which did not make Monterey for a month and a 
half. The land-party, following the coast, reached the more southern of 
the great wooden crosses on the 24th of May, and after some difficulty 
succeeded at last in identifying the harbour. Seven days later, steering 
by the fires lighted for her guidance along the shore, the San Antonio 
came safely into port; and formal possession of the bay and surrounding 
country was presently taken in the name of church and King. This was on 
the 3rd of June, the Feast of Pentecost; and on that day of peculiar 
significance in the apostolic history of the church, the second of the 
Upper California missions came into being. Palou has left us a full 
account of the ceremonies. Governor, soldiers and priests gathered 
together on the beach, on the spot where, in 1603, the Carmelite fathers 
who had accompanied Viscaino, had celebrated the mass. An altar was 
improvised and bells rung; and then, in alb and stole, the father-
president invoked the aid of the Holy Ghost, solemnly chanted the Venite 
Creator Spiritus; blessed and raised a great cross; "to put to flight all 
the infernal enemies;" and sprinkled with holy water the beach and 
adjoining fields. Mass was then sung; Father Junipero preached a sermon; 
again the roar of cannon and muskets took the place of instrumental music; 
and the function was concluded with the Te Deum. Though now commonly 
called Carmelo, or Carmel, from the river across which it looks, and which 
has thus lent it a memory of the first Christian explorers on the spot, 
this mission is properly known by the name of San Carlos Borromeo, 
Cardinal-Archbishop of Milan. A few huts enclosed by a palisade, and 
forming the germ at once of the religious and of the military settlement, 
were hastily erected. But the actual building of the mission was not begun 
until the summer of 1771. 

(1. The Diary, furnishing a detailed itinerary of the expedition, is given 
in full in Palou's noticias de la Nueva California.) 



CHAPTER V. 
HOW FATHER JUNIPERO ESTABLISHED THE MISSIONS OF SAN ANTONIO DE PADUA, SAN 
GABRIEL, AND SAN LOUIS OBISPO.

News of the establishment of the missions and military posts at San Diego 
and Monterey was in due course carried to the City of Mexico, where it so 
delighted the Marques de Croix, Viceroy of New Spain, and Jose de Galvez, 
that they not only set the church bells ringing, but forthwith began to 
make arrangements for the founding of more missions in the upper province. 
Additional priests were provided by the College of San Fernando; funds 
liberally subscribed; and the San Antonio made ready to sail from San Blas 
with the friars and supplies. On the 21st of May, 1771, the good ship 
dropped anchor at Monterey, where, in the meantime, Junipero, though busy 
enough among the natives of the neighborhood, was suffering grievous 
disappointment because, from lack of priests and soldiers, he was unable 
to proceed at once with the proposed establishment of San Buenaventura. 
The safe arrival of ten assistants now brought him assurance of a rapid 
extension of work in "the vineyard of the Lord." He was not the man to let 
time slip by him unimproved. Plans were immediately laid for carrying the 
cross still further into the wilderness, and six new missions - those of 
San Buenaventura, San Gabriel, San Louis Obispo, San Antonio, Santa Clara 
and San Francisco - were presently agreed upon. It was discovered later 
on, however, that these plans outran the resources at the president's 
disposal, and much to his regret, the design for settlements at Santa 
Clara and San Francisco had to be temporarily given up. 

There was, none the less, plenty to engage the energies of even so 
tireless a worker as Junipero, for three of the new missions were 
successfully established between July, 1771, and the autumn of the 
following year. The first of these was the Mission of San Antonio de 
Padua, in a beautiful spot among the Santa Lucia mountains, some twenty-
five leagues southeast of Monterey; the second, that of San Gabriel 
Arcángel, near what is now known as the San Gabriel river; and the third, 
the Mission of San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, for which a location was chosen 
near the coast, about twenty-five leagues southeast of San Antonio. In his 
account of the founding of the first named of these, Palou throws in a 
characteristic touch. After the bells had been hung on trees and loudly 
tolled, he says, the excited padre-presidente began to shout like one 
transported: - "Ho, gentiles! Come to the Holy Church; Come! Come! and 
receive the faith of Jesus Christ!" His comrade, Father Pieras, standing 
by astonished, interrupted his fervent eloquence with the eminently 
practical remark that as there were no gentiles within hearing, it was 
idle to ring the bells. But the enthusiast's ardour was not to be damped 
by such considerations, and he continued to ring and shout. I, for one, am 
grateful for such a detail as this. An even more significant story, though 
of a quite different sort, is recorded of the dedication of San Gabriel. 
It was, of course, inevitable that here and there in connection with such 
a record as this of Serra and his work, there should spring up legends of 
miraculous doings and occurrences; though on the whole, it is, perhaps, 
remarkable that the mythopoeic tendency was not more powerful. The 
incident now referred to may be taken as an illustration. While the 
missionary party were engaged in exploring for a suitable site, a large 
force of natives, under two chiefs, suddenly broke in upon them. Serious 
conflict seemed imminent; when one of the fathers drew forth a piece of 
canvas bearing the picture of the Virgin. Instantly the savages threw 
their weapons to the ground, and, following their leaders, crowded with 
offerings about the marvellous image. Thus the danger was averted. Further 
troubles attended the settlement at San Gabriel; but in after years it 
became one of the most successful of all the missions, and gained 
particular fame from the industries maintained by its converts, and their 
skill in carving wood, horn and leather. 



CHAPTER VI. 
OF THE TRAGEDY AT SAN DIEGO, AND THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSIONS OF SAN JUAN 
CAPISTRANO, SAN FRANCISCO, AND SANTA CLARA.

Though, as we thus see, Father Junipero had ample reason to be encouraged 
over the progress of his enterprise, he still had various difficulties to 
contend with. The question of supplies often assumed formidable 
proportions, and the labors of the missionaries were not always as 
fruitful as had been hoped. Fortunately, however, the Indians were, as a 
rule, friendly, notwithstanding the fact that the behaviour of the Spanish 
soldiers, especially towards their women, occasionally aroused their 
distrust and resentment. At one establishment only did serious 
disturbances actually threaten for a time the continuance of the mission 
and its work. Junipero had lately returned from Mexico, with undiminished 
zeal and all sorts of fresh designs revolving in his brain, when a courier 
reached him at San Carlos bringing news of a terrible disaster at San 
Diego. Important affairs detained him for a time at Monterey, but when at 
length he was able to get to the scene of the trouble, it was to find that 
first reports had not been exaggerated. On the night of the 4th of 
November, 1775, eight hundred Indians had made a ferocious assault upon 
the mission, fired the buildings, and brutally done to death Father Jayme, 
one of the two priests in charge. "God be thanked," Junipero had 
exclaimed, when the letter containing the dreadful news had been read to 
him, "now the soil is watered, and the conquest of the Dieguinos will soon 
be complete!" In the faith that the blood of the martyrs is veritably the 
seed of the church, he, on reaching San Diego, with his customary energy, 
set about the task of re-establishing the mission; and the buildings which 
presently arose from the ruins were a great improvement upon those which 
had been destroyed. 

Before these alarming events at the mother-mission broke in upon his 
regular work, the president had resolved upon yet another settlement (not 
included in the still uncompleted plan), for which he had selected a point 
on the coast some twenty-six leagues north of San Diego, and which was to 
be dedicated to San Juan Capistrano. A beginning had indeed been made 
there, not by Junipero in person, but by fathers delegated by him for the 
purpose; but when news of the murder of Father Jayme reached them, they 
had hastily buried bells, chasubles and supplies, and hurried south. As 
soon as ever he felt it wise to leave San Diego Junipero himself now 
repaired to the abandoned site; and there, on the 1st of November, 1776, 
the bells were dug up and hung, mass said, and the mission established. It 
is curious to remember that while the padre-presidente was thus immersed 
in apostolic labors on the far Pacific coast, on the other side of the 
North American continent events of a very different character were shaking 
the whole civilized world. 

Though the establishment of San Juan Capistrano is naturally mentioned in 
this place, partly because of the abortive start made there a year before, 
and partly because its actual foundation constituted the next noteworthy 
incident in Junipero's career, this mission is, in strict chronological 
order, not the sixth, but the seventh on our list. For some three weeks 
before its dedication, and without the knowledge of the president himself, 
though in full accordance with his designs, the cross had been planted at 
a point many leagues northward beyond San Carlos, and destined presently 
to be the most important on the coast. It will be remembered that when 
Portolà's party made their first futile search for the harbour of 
Monterey, they had by accident found their way as far as the Bay of San 
Francisco. The significance of their discovery was not appreciated at the 
time, either by themselves or by those at headquarters to whom it was 
reported; but later explorations so clearly established the value of the 
spot for settlement and fortification, that it was determined to build a 
presidio there. Some years previous to this, as we have seen, a mission on 
the northern bay had been part of Junipero's ambitious scheme; and though 
at the time he was forced by circumstances to hold his hand, the idea was 
constantly uppermost in his thoughts. At length, when, in the summer of 
1776, an expedition was despatched from Monterey for the founding of the 
proposed presidio, two missionaries were included in the party - one of 
these being none other than that Father Palou, whose records have been our 
chief guides in the course of this story. The buildings of the presidio - 
store house, commandant's dwelling, and huts for the soldiers and their 
families - were completed by the middle of September; and on the 17th of 
that month - the day of St. Francis, patron of the station and harbour - 
imposing ceremonies of foundation were performed. A wooden church was then 
built; and on the 9th of October, in the presence of many witnesses, 
Father Palou said mass, the image of St. Francis was borne about in 
procession, and the mission solemnly dedicated to his name(1). 

It was at San Luis Obispo on his way back from San Diego to Monterey, that 
Father Junipero learned of the foundation of the mission at San Francisco, 
and though he may doubtless have felt some little regret at not having 
himself been present on such an occasion, his heart overflowed with joy. 
For there was a special reason why the long delay in carrying out this 
portion of his plan had weighed heavily upon him. Years before, when the 
visitador general had told him that the first three missions in Alta 
California were to be named after San Diego, San Carlos and San 
Buenaventura (for such, we recollect, had been the original programme), he 
had exclaimed: - "Then is our father, St. Francis, to have no mission?" 
And Galvez had made reply: - "If St. Francis desires a mission, let him 
show us his port, and he shall have one there." To Junipero it had seemed 
that Portolà had providentially been led beyond Monterey to the Bay of San 
Francisco, and the founder of his order had thus given emphatic answer to 
the visitador's words. It may well be imagined that he was ill at rest 
until the saint's wishes had been carried into effect. 

But this was not the only good work done in the north while Junipero was 
busy elsewhere; for on the 12th of January, 1777, the Mission of Santa 
Clara was established in the wonderfully fertile and beautiful valley 
which is now known by that name. The customary rites were performed by 
Father Tomas de la Peña, a rude chapel erected, and the work of 
constructing the necessary buildings of the settlement immediately 
begun(2). It should be noted in passing that before the end of the year 
the town of San Jose - or, to give it its full Spanish title, El Pueblo de 
San Jose de Guadalupe - was founded near by. This has historic interest as 
the first purely civil settlement in California. The fine Alameda from the 
mission to the pueblo was afterwards made and laid out under the fathers' 
supervision. 

(1. This is now colloquially known as the Mission Dolores. Its proper 
title is, however, Mission of San Francisco de Assis. It originally stood 
on the Laguna de los Dolores (now filled up) ; and hence its popular 
name.) 

(2. The site originally chosen lay too low, and from the outset danger of 
inundation was foreseen. A flood occurred in 1779, and in 1784 the mission 
was removed to higher ground. The present buildings date from 1825-26.) 



CHAPTER VII. 
OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE MISSION OF SAN BUENAVENTURA, AND OF THE DEATH 
AND CHARACTER OF FATHER JUNIPERO.

Though Junipero's subordinates had thus done without him in these 
important developments at San Francisco and Santa Clara, he still resolved 
to go north, both to visit the new foundations and to inspect for himself 
the marvellous country of which he had heard much, but which he had not 
yet seen. As usual, he was long detained by urgent affairs, and it was not 
till autumn that he succeeded in breaking away. He made a short stay at 
Santa Clara, and then pushed on to San Francisco, which he reached in time 
to say mass on St. Francis' day. After a ten days' rest, he crossed to the 
presidio and feasted his eyes on the glorious vision of the Golden Gate - 
a sight which once seen is never to be forgotten. "Thanks be to God!" he 
cried, in rapture (these, says Palou, were the words most frequently on 
his lips); "now our Father St. Francis, with the Holy Cross of the 
procession of missions, has reached the ultimate end of this continent of 
California. To go further ships will be required!" Yet his joy was 
tempered with the thought that the eight missions already founded were 
very far apart, and that much labour would be necessary to fill up the 
gaps. 

It was thus with the feeling that, while something had been done, far more 
was left to do, that the padre returned to his own special charge at San 
Carlos. Various circumstances in combination had caused the postponement, 
year after year, of that third mission, which, according to original 
intentions, was to have followed immediately upon the establishments at 
San Diego and Monterey. Three new settlements were now projected on the 
Santa Barbara Channel, and the first of these was to be the mission of San 
Buenaventura. It was not until 1782, however, that the long-delayed 
purpose was at length accomplished. The site chosen was at the 
southeastern extremity of the channel, and close to an Indian village, or 
ranchería to which Portalà's expedition in 1769 had given the name of 
Ascencion de Nuestra Señora, or, briefly, Assumpta. A little later on, in 
pursuance of the same plan, the then governor, Filipe de Neve, took formal 
possession of a spot some ten leagues distant, and there began the 
construction of the presidio of Santa Barbara. It was Junipero's earnest 
desire to proceed at once with the adjoining mission. But the governor, 
for reasons of his own, threw obstacles in the way, and in the end this 
fresh undertaking was left to other hands. 

For we have now come to the close of Father Junipero's long and strenuous 
career; and as we look back over the record of it, our wonder is, not that 
he should have died when he did, but rather that he had not killed himself 
many years before. His is surely one of those cases in which supreme 
spiritual power and sheer force of will triumph over an accumulation of 
bodily ills. Far from robust of constitution, he had never given himself 
consideration or repose, forcing himself to exertions which it would have 
appeared utterly impossible that his frame could bear, and adding to the 
constant strain of his labours and travels the hardships of self-inflicted 
tortures of a severe ascetic régime. He had always been much troubled by 
the old ulcer on his leg, though this, no matter how painful, he never 
regarded save when it actually incapacitated him for work; and for many 
years he had suffered from a serious affection of the heart, which had 
been greatly aggravated, even if it was not in the first instance caused, 
by his habit of beating himself violently on his chest with a huge stone, 
at the conclusion of his sermons - to the natural horror of his hearers, 
who, it is said, were often alarmed lest he should drop dead before their 
eyes. The fatal issue of such practices could only be a question of time. 
At length, mental anxiety and sorrow added their weight to his burden - 
particularly disappointment at the slow progress of his enterprise, and 
grief over the death of his fellow-countryman and close friend, Father 
Crespì, who passed to his well-earned rest on New Year's Day, 1782. After 
this loss, it is recorded, he was never the same man again, though he held 
so tenaciously to his duties, that only a year before the call came to 
him, being then over seventy, he limped from San Diego to Monterey, 
visiting his missions, and weeping over the outlying Indian rancherìas, 
because he was powerless to help the unconverted dwellers in them. He died 
at San Carlos, tenderly nursed to the end by the faithful Palou, on the 
28th August, 1784; and his passing was so peaceful that those watching 
thought him asleep. On hearing the mission bells toll for his death, the 
whole population, knowing well what had occurred, burst into tears; and 
when, clothed in the simple habit of his order, his body was laid out in 
his cell, the native neophytes crowded in with flowers, while the Spanish 
soldiers and sailors pressed round in the hope of being blessed by 
momentary contact with his corpse. He was laid beneath the mission altar 
beside his beloved friend Crespì; but when, in after years, a new church 
was built, the remains of both were removed and placed within it. 

It is not altogether easy to measure such a man as Junipero Serra by our 
ordinary modern standards of character and conduct. He was essentially a 
religious enthusiast, and as a religious enthusiast he must be judged. To 
us who read his story from a distance, who breathe an atmosphere totally 
different from his, and whose lives are governed by quite other passions 
and ideals, he may often appear one-sided, extravagant, deficient in tact 
and forethought, and, in the excess of his zeal, too ready to sacrifice 
everything to the purposes he never for an instant allowed to drop out of 
his sight. We may even, with some of his critics, protest that he was not 
a man of powerful intellect; that his views of people and things were 
distressingly narrow; that, after his kind, he was extremely 
superstitious; that he was despotic in his dealings with his converts, and 
stiffnecked in his relations with the civil and military authorities. For 
all this is doubtless true. But all this must not prevent us from seeing 
him as he actually was - charitable, large-hearted, energetic, 
indomitable; in all respects a remarkable, in many ways, a really wise and 
great man. At whatever points he may fall short of our criteria, this much 
must be said of him, that he was fired throughout with the high spirit of 
his vocation, that he was punctual in the performance of duty as he 
understood it, that he was obedient to the most rigorous dictates of that 
Gospel which he had set himself to preach. In absolute, single-hearted, 
unflinching, and tireless devotion to the task of his life - the salvation 
of heathen souls - he spent himself freely and cheerfully, a true follower 
of that noblest and most engaging of the mediaeval saints, whose law he 
had laid upon himself, and whom he looked up to as his guide and examplar. 
Let us place him where he belongs - among the transcendent apostolic 
figures of his own church; for thus alone shall we do justice to his 
personality, his objects, his career. The memory of such a man will 
survive all changes in creeds and ideals; and the great state, of which he 
was the first pioneer, will do honour to herself in honouring him. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
HOW THE MISSIONS OF SANTA BARBARA, LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION, SANTA CRUZ, 
SOLEDAD, SAN JOSE, SAN JUAN BAUTISTA, SAN MIGUEL, SAN FERNANDO, SAN LUIS 
REY, AND SANTA LNEZ, WERE ADDED TO THE LIST.

After Junipero's death the supervision of the missions devolved for a time 
upon Palou, under whose management, owing to difficulties with the civil 
powers, no new foundations were undertaken, though satisfactory progress 
was made in those already existing. In 1786, Palou was appointed head of 
the College of San Fernando, and his place as mission president was filled 
by Father Firmin Francisco de Lasuen, by whom the mission of Santa Barbara 
was dedicated, on the festival day of that virgin-martyr, before the close 
of the year(1). Just twelve months later, the third channel settlement was 
started, with the performance of the usual rites, on the spot fixed for 
the Mission of La Purisima Concepcion, at the western extremity of the 
bay; though some months passed before real work there was begun. Thus the 
proposed scheme, elaborated before Junipero's death, for the occupation of 
that portion of the coast, was at length successfully carried out. 

Hardly had this been accomplished before the viceroy and governor, having 
resolved upon a further extension of the mission system, sent orders to 
Father Lasuen to proceed with two fresh settlements, one of which was to 
be dedicated to the Holy Cross, the other to Our Lady of Solitude. Time 
was, as usual, consumed in making the necessary preparations, and the two 
missions were finally founded within a few weeks of each other - on the 
28th of August and the 9th of October, 1791, respectively. The site 
selected for the Mission of Santa Cruz was in the neighborhood already 
known by that name, and near the San Lorenzo River; that of Nuestra Señora 
de la Soledad, on the west side of the Salinas River, in the vicinity of 
the present town of Soledad, and about thirty miles from Monterey. 

A glance at the map of California will help us to understand the policy 
which had dictated the creation of the four missions founded since 
Junipero's death. The enormous stretch of country between San Francisco 
and San Diego, the northern and southern extremes of evangelical 
enterprise, was as yet quite insufficiently occupied, and these new 
settlements had been started with the object of to some extent filling up 
the vast vacant spaces still left among those already existing. For the 
efficient performance of missionary work something more was needed than a 
number of separate establishments, no matter how well managed and 
successful these in themselves might be. Systematic organization was 
essential; for this it was requisite that the various missions should be 
brought, by proximity, into vital relations with one another, that 
communication might be kept up, companionship enjoyed, and, in case of 
need, advice given and assistance rendered. The foundations of Santa 
Barbara, La Purisima, Santa Cruz and Soledad, had done something, as will 
be seen, towards the ultimate drawing together of the scattered outposts 
of church and civilization. But with them a beginning had only been made. 
Further developments of the same general plan which aimed, it will be 
understood, not alone at the spiritual conquest, but also at the proper 
control of the new kingdom - were now taken under consideration. And, as a 
result, five fresh missions were presently resolved upon. One of these was 
to be situated between San Francisco and Santa Clara; the second, between 
Santa Clara and Monterey; the third, between San Antonio and San Luis 
Obispo; the fourth, between San Buenaventura and San Gabriel; and the 
fifth, between San Juan Capistrano and San Diego. The importance of these 
proposed settlements as connecting links will be at once apparent, if we 
observe that by reason of their carefully chosen locations they served, as 
it were, to put the older missions into actual touch. When at length the 
preliminary arrangements had been made, no time was wasted in the carrying 
out of the programme, and in a little over a year, all five missions were 
in operation. The mission San Jose (a rather tardy recognition to the 
patron-saint of the whole undertaking), was founded on the 11th June, 
1797; San Juan Bautista thirteen days later; San Miguel Arcángel on the 
25th July, and San Fernando Rey de España on the 8th September of the same 
year; and San Luis Rey de Francia (commonly called San Luis Rey to 
distinguish it from San Luis Obispo), on the 13th of the July following. 
The delay which had not at all been anticipated in the establishment of 
this last-named mission, was due to some difficulties in regard to site. 
With this ended - so far as fresh foundations were concerned - the pious 
labours of Lasuen as padre-presidente. He now returned to San Carlos to 
devote himself during the remainder of his life to the arduous duties of 
supervision and administration. There he died, in 1803, aged eighty-three 
years. 

His successor, Father Estevan Tapis, fourth president of the Upper 
California missions, signalized his elevation to office by adding a 
nineteenth to the establishments under his charge. Founded on the 17th 
September, 1804, on a spot, eighteen miles from La Purisima and twenty-two 
from Santa Barbara, to which Lasuen had already directed attention, this 
was dedicated to the virgin-martyr, Santa Inez. It was felt that a 
settlement somewhere in this region was still needed for the completion of 
the mission system, since without it, a gap was left in the line between 
the two missions first-named, which were some forty miles apart. With the 
planting of Santa Inez thorough spiritual occupation may be said to have 
been accomplished over the entire area between San Francisco and San 
Diego, and from the Coast Range to the ocean. The nineteen missions had 
been so distributed over the vast country, that the Indians scattered 
through it could everywhere be reached; while the distance from mission to 
mission had, at the same time, been so reduced that it was in no case too 
great to be easily covered in a single day's journey. The fathers of each 
establishment could thus hold frequent intercourse with their next 
neighbors, and occasional travelers moving to and fro on business could 
from day to day be certain of finding a place for refreshment and 
repose(2). 

(1. The original adobe church was injured by earthquakes in 1806 and 1812. 
The present edifice was begun in 1815 and finished in 1820.) 

(2. The table given by the French traveler, De Mofras, in his 
authoritative Exploration du Territoire de L'Oregon, les Californies, 
etc., shows us that the distance between mission and mission nowhere 
exceeded nighteen leagues, and that it was often very much less.) 



CHAPTER IX. 
OF THE FOUNDING OF THE MISSIONS OF SAN RAFAEL AND SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO.

Santa Inez carries us for the first time over into the nineteenth century, 
and its establishment may in a sense be regarded as marking the term of 
the period of expansion in California mission history. A pause of more 
than a decade ensued, during which no effort was made towards the further 
spread of the general system; and then, with the planting of two 
relatively unimportant settlements in a district thentofore unoccupied the 
tally was brought to a close. 

The missions which thus represented a slight and temporary revival of the 
old spirit of enterprise, were those of San Rafael Arcángel and San 
Francisco Solano. The former, located near Mount Tamalpais, between San 
Francisco de Assis and the Russian military station at Fort Ross, dates 
from the 17th December, 1817; the latter, situated still further north, in 
the Sonoma Valley, from the 4th July, 1823. Some little uncertainty exists 
as to the true reasons and purposes of their foundation. The commonly 
accepted version of the story connects them directly with problems which 
arose out of the course of affairs at San Francisco. In 1817 a most 
serious epidemic caused great mortality among the Indians there; a panic 
seemed inevitable; and on the advice of Lieutenant Sola, a number of the 
sick neophytes were removed by the padres to the other side of the bay. 
The change of climate proved highly beneficial; the region of Mount 
Tamalpais was found singularly attractive; and a decision to start a 
branch establishment, or asistencia, of the mission at San Francisco was a 
natural result. The patronage of San Rafael was selected in the hope that, 
as the name itself expresses the "healing of God," that "most glorious 
prince" might be induced to care "for bodies as well as souls." While 
considerable success attended this new venture, the condition of things at 
San Francisco, on the other hand, continued anything but satisfactory; and 
a proposal based on these two facts was presently made, that the old 
mission should be removed entirely from the peninsula, and refounded in a 
more favorable locality somewhere in the healthy and fertile country 
beyond San Rafael. It was thus that the name of San Francisco got attached 
from the outset to the new settlement at Sonoma; and when later on (the 
old mission being left in its place) this was made into an independent 
mission, the name was retained, though the dedication was transferred, 
appropriately enough, from St. Francis of Assisi to that other St. Francis 
who figures in the records as "the great apostle of the Indies." 

Such is the simpler explanation of the way in which the last two missions 
came to be established. It has, however, been suggested that, while all 
this may be true as far as it goes, other causes were at work of a subtler 
character than those specified, and that these causes were involved in the 
development of political affairs. It will have been noted that, though the 
threatened encroachments of the Russians had been one of the chief reasons 
for this Spanish occupation of Alta California, there had hitherto been no 
attempt to meet their possible advances in the very regions where they 
were most to be expected - that is, in the country north of San Francisco. 
In course of time, however, always with the ostensible purpose of hunting 
the seal and the otter, the Russians were found to be creeping further and 
further south; and at length, under instructions from St. Petersburg, they 
took possession of the region of Bodega Bay, establishing there a trading 
post of their Fur Company, and a strong military station which they called 
Fort Ross. As this settlement was on the coast, and only sixty-five miles, 
as the crow flies, from San Francisco, it will be seen that the Spanish 
authorities had some genuine cause for alarm. And the mission movement 
north of San Francisco is considered by some writers to have been 
initiated, less from spiritual motives, than from the dread of continued 
Russian aggression, and the hope of raising at least a slight barrier 
against it. However this may be, the two missions were never employed for 
defensive purposes; nor is it very clear that they could have been made of 
much practical service in case of actual need. 



CHAPTER X. 
OF THE DOWNFALL OF THE MISSIONS OF CALIFORNIA.

Such, in briefest outline, is the story of the planting of the twenty-one 
missions of Alta California. This story, as we have seen, brings us down 
to the year 1823. But by this time, as we follow the chronicles, our 
attention has already begun to be diverted from the forces which still 
made for growth and success to those which ere long were to co-operate for 
the complete undoing of the mission system and the ruin of all its work. 

Perhaps it was in the nature of things (if one may venture here to employ 
a phrase too often used out of mere idleness or ignorance) that the 
undertaking which year by year had been carried forward with so much 
energy and success, should after a while come to a standstill; and the 
commonest observation of life will suffice to remind us that when progress 
ceases, retrogression is almost certain to set in. The immense zeal and 
unflagging enthusiasm of Junipero Serra and his immediate followers could 
not be transmitted by any rite or formula to the men upon whose shoulders 
their responsibilities came presently to rest. Men they were, of course, 
of widely varying characters and capabilities - some, unfortunately, 
altogether unworthy both morally and mentally, of their high calling; 
many, on the contrary, genuine embodiments of the great principles of 
their order - humane, benevolent, faithful in the discharge of daily duty, 
patient alike in labour and trial, and careful administrators of the 
practical affairs which lay within their charge. But without injustice it 
may be said of them that for the most part they possessed little of the 
tremendous personal force of their predecessors, and a generous endowment 
of such personal force was as needful now as it ever had been. 

Not unless we wish to emulate Southey's learned friend, who wrote whole 
volumes of hypothetical history in the subjunctive mood, it is hardly 
necessary for present purposes to discuss the internal changes which, had 
the missions been left to themselves, might in the long run have brought 
about their decay. For as a matter of fact the missions were not left to 
themselves. The closing chapter of their history, to which we have now to 
turn, is mainly concerned, not with their spiritual management, or with 
their success or failure in the work they had been given to do, but with 
the general movement of political events, and the upheavals which preceded 
the final conquest of California by the United States. 

In considering the attitude of the civil authorities towards the mission 
system, and their dealings with it, we must remember that the Spanish 
government had from the first anticipated the gradual transformation of 
the missions into pueblos and parishes, and with this, the substitution of 
the regular clergy for the Franciscan padres. This was part of the general 
plan of colonization, of which the mission settlements were regarded as 
forming only the beginning. Their work was to bring the heathen into the 
fold of the church, to subdue them to the conditions of civilization, to 
instruct them in the arts of peace, and thus to prepare them for 
citizenship; and this done, it was purposed that they should be 
straightway removed from the charge of the fathers and placed under civil 
jurisdiction. No decisive step towards the accomplishment of this design 
was, however, taken for many years; and meanwhile, the fathers jealously 
resisted every effort of the government to interfere with their 
prerogatives. At length, with little comprehension of the nature of the 
materials out of which citizens were thus to be manufactured, and with 
quite as little realization of the fact that the paternal methods of 
education adopted by the padres were calculated, not to train their 
neophytes to self-government, but to keep them in a state of perpetual 
tutelage, the Spanish Cortes decreed that all missions which had then been 
in existence ten years should at once be turned over to bishops, and the 
Indians attached to them made subject to civil authority. Though 
promulgated in 1813, this decree was not published in California till 
1820, and even then was practically a dead letter. Two years later, 
California became a province of the Mexican Empire, and in due course the 
new government turned its attention to the missions, in 1833 ordering 
their complete secularization. The atrocious mishandling by both Spain and 
Mexico of the funds by which they had been kept up, and the large demands 
made later upon them for provisions and money, had by this time made 
serious inroads upon their resources; notwithstanding which they had 
faithfully persisted in their work. The new law now dealt them a crushing 
blow. Ten years of great confusion followed, and then an effort was made 
to save them from the complete ruin by which they were threatened by a 
proclamation ordering that the more important of them, twelve in number, 
should be restored to the padres. Nothing came of this, however; the 
collapse continued; and in 1846, the sale of the mission buildings was 
decreed by the Departmental Assembly. When in the August of that year, the 
American flag was unfurled at Monterey, everything connected with the 
missions - their lands, their priests, their neophytes, their management - 
was in a state of seemingly hopeless chaos. Finally General Kearney issued 
a declaration to the effect that "the missions and their property should 
remain under the charge of the Catholic priests . . . until the titles to 
the lands should be decided by proper authority." But of whatever 
temporary service this measure may have been, it was of course altogether 
powerless to breathe fresh life into a system already in the last stages 
of decay. The mission-buildings were crumbling into ruins. Their lands 
were neglected; their converts for the most part dead or scattered. The 
rule of the padres was over. The Spanish missions in Alta California were 
things of the past. 

In these late days of a civilization so different in all its essential 
elements from that which the Franciscans laboured so strenuously to 
establish on the Pacific Coast, we may think of the fathers as we will, 
and pass what judgment we see fit upon their work. But be that what it 
may, our hearts cannot fail to be touched and stirred by the pitiful story 
of those true servants of God who, in the hour of ultimate disaster, 
firmly refused to be separated from their flocks. 

Among the ruins of San Luis Obispo, in 1842, De Mofras found the oldest 
Spanish priest then left in California, who, after sixty years of 
unremitting toil, was then reduced to such abject poverty that he was 
forced to sleep on a hide, drink from a horn, and feed upon strips of meat 
dried in the sun. Yet this faithful creature still continued to share the 
little he possessed with the children of the few Indians who lingered in 
the huts about the deserted church; and when efforts were made to induce 
him to seek some other spot where he might find refuge and rest, his 
answer was that he meant to die at his post. The same writer has recorded 
an even more tragic case from the annals of La Soledad. Long after the 
settlement there had been abandoned, and when the buildings were falling 
to pieces, an old priest, Father Sarría, still remained to minister to the 
bodily and physical wants of a handful of wretched natives who yet haunted 
the neighborhood, and whom he absolutely refused to forsake. One Sunday 
morning in August, 1833, after his habit, he gathered his neophytes 
together in what was once the church, and began, according to his custom, 
the celebration of the mass. But age, suffering, and privation had by this 
time told fatally upon him. Hardly had he commenced the service, when his 
strength gave way. He stumbled upon the crumbling altar, and died, 
literally of starvation, in the arms of those to whom for thirty years he 
had given freely whatever he had to give. Surely these simple records of 
Christ-like devotion will live in the tender remembrance of all who revere 
the faith that, linked with whatever creed, manifests itself in good 
works, the love that spends itself in service, the quiet heroism that 
endures to the end. 



CHAPTER XI. 
OF THE OLD MISSIONS, AND LIFE IN THEM.

The California missions, though greatly varying of course in regard to 
size and economy, were constructed upon the same general plan, in the 
striking and beautiful style of architecture, roughly known as Moorish, 
which the fathers transplanted from Spain, but which rather seems by 
reason of its singular appropriateness, a native growth of the new soil. 
The edifices which now, whether in ruins or in restoration, still testify 
to the skill and energy of their pious designers, were in all cases later, 
in most cases much later, than the settlements themselves. At the outset, 
a few rude buildings of wood or adobe were deemed sufficient for the 
temporary accommodation of priests and converts, and the celebration of 
religious services. Then, little by little, substantial structures in 
brick or stone took the place of these, and what we now think of as the 
mission came into being. 

The best account left us of the mission establishment in its palmy days is 
that given by De Mofras in his careful record of travel and exploration 
along the Pacific Coast; and often quoted as this has been, we still 
cannot do better here than to translate some portions of it anew. The 
observant Frenchman wrote with his eye mainly upon what was perhaps the 
most completely typical of all the missions - that of San Luis Rey. But 
his description, though containing a number of merely local particulars, 
was intended to be general; and for this reason may the more properly be 
reproduced in this place. 

"The edifice," he wrote, "is quadrilateral, and about one hundred and 
fifty metres long in front. The church occupies one of the wings. The 
façade is ornamented with a gallery [or arcade]. The building, a single 
storey in height, is generally raised some feet above the ground. The 
interior forms a court, adorned with flowers and planted with trees. 
Opening on the gallery which runs round it are the rooms of the monks, 
majordomos, and travelers, as well as the workshops, schoolrooms, and 
storehouses. Hospitals for men and women are situated in the quietest 
parts of the mission, where also are placed the schoolrooms. The young 
Indian girls occupy apartments called the monastery (el moujerìo), and 
they themselves are styled nuns (las moujas) . . . Placed under the care 
of trustworthy Indian women, they are there taught to spin wool, flax, and 
cotton, and do no leave their seclusion till they are old enough to be 
married. The Indian children attend the same school as the children of the 
white colonists. A certain number of them, chosen from those who exhibit 
most intelligence, are taught music - plain-chant, violin, flute, horn, 
violincello, and other instruments. Those who distinguish themselves in 
the carpenter's shop, at the forge, or in the field, are termed alcaldes, 
or chiefs, and given charge of a band of workmen. The management of each 
mission is composed of two monks; the elder looks after internal 
administration and religious instruction; the younger has direction of 
agricultural work . . . For the sake of order and morals, whites are 
employed only where strictly necessary, for the fathers know their 
influence to be altogether harmful, and that they lead the Indians to 
gambling and drunkenness, to which vices they are already too prone. To 
encourage the natives in their tasks, the fathers themselves often lend a 
hand, and everywhere furnish an example of industry. Necessity has made 
them industrious. One is struck with astonishment on observing that, with 
such meagre resources, often without European workmen or any skilled help, 
but with the assistance only of savages, always unintelligent and often 
hostile, they have yet succeeded in executing such works of architecture 
and engineering as mills, machinery, bridges, roads, and canals for 
irrigation. For the erection of nearly all the mission buildings it was 
necessary to bring to the sites chosen, beams cut on mountains eight or 
ten leagues away, and to teach the Indians to burn lime, cut stone, and 
make bricks. 

"Around the mission," De Mofras continues, "are the huts of the neophytes, 
and the dwellings of some white colonists. Besides the central 
establishment, there exists, for a space of thirty or forty leagues, 
accessory farms to the number of fifteen or twenty, and branch chapels 
(chapelles succursales). Opposite the mission is a guard-house for an 
escort, composed of four cavalry soldiers and a sergeant. These act as 
messengers, carrying orders from one mission to another, and in the 
earlier days of conquest repelled the savages who would sometimes attack 
the settlement." 

Of the daily life and routine of a mission, accounts of travelers enable 
us to form a pretty vivid picture; and though doubtless changes of detail 
might be marked in passing from place to place, the larger and more 
essential features would be found common to all the establishments. 

At sunrise the little community was already astir, and then the Angelus 
summoned all to the church, where mass was said, and a short time given to 
the religious instruction of the neophytes. Breakfast followed, composed 
mainly of the staple dish atole, or pottage of roasted barley. This 
finished, the Indians repaired in squads, each under the supervision of 
its alcalde, to their various tasks in workshop and field. Between eleven 
and twelve o'clock, a wholesome and sufficiently generous midday meal was 
served out. At two, work was resumed. An hour or so before sunset, the 
bell again tolled for the Angelus; evening mass was performed; and after 
supper had been eaten, the day closed with dance, or music, or some simple 
games of chance. Thus week by week, and month by month, with monotonous 
regularity, life ran its unbroken course; and what with the labours 
directly connected with the management of the mission itself, the tending 
of sheep and cattle in the neighboring ranches, and the care of the 
gardens and orchards upon which the population was largely dependent for 
subsistence, there was plenty to occupy the attention of the padres, and 
quite enough work to be done by the Indians under their charge. But all 
this does not exhaust the list of mission activities. For in course of 
time, as existence became more settled, and the children of the early 
converts shot up into boys and girls, various industries were added to 
such first necessary occupations, and the natives were taught to work at 
the forge and the bench, to make saddles and shoes, to weave, and cut, and 
sew. In these and similar acts, many of them acquired considerable 
proficiency. 

It is pleasant enough to look back upon such a busy yet placid life. But 
while we may justly acknowledge its antique, pastoral charm, we must guard 
ourselves against the temptation to idealization. Beautiful in many 
respects it must have been; but its shadows were long and deep. According 
to the first principles adopted by the missionaries, the domesticated 
Indians were held down rigorously in a condition of servile dependence and 
subjection. They were indeed, as one of the early travelers in California 
put it, slaves under another name - slaves to the cast-iron power of a 
system which, like all systems, was capable of unlimited abuse, and which, 
at the very best, was narrow and arbitrary. Every vestige of freedom was 
taken from them when they entered, or were brought into, the settlement. 
Henceforth they belonged, body and soul, to the mission and its authority. 
Their tasks were assigned to them, their movements controlled, the details 
of their daily doings dictated, by those who were to all intents and 
purposes their absolute masters; and corporal punishment was visited 
freely not only upon those who were guilty of actual misdemeanor, but also 
upon such as failed in attendance at church, or, when there, did not 
conduct themselves properly. From time to time some unusually turbulent 
spirit would rise against such paternal despotism, and break away to his 
old savage life. But these cases, we are told, were of rare occurrence. 
The California Indians were for the most part indolent, apathetic, and of 
low intelligence; and as, under domestication, they were clothed, housed 
and fed, while the labour demanded from them was rarely excessive, they 
were wont as a rule to accept the change from the hardships of their 
former rough existence to the comparative comfort of the mission, if not 
exactly in a spirit of gratitude, at any rate with a certain brutal 
contentment. 



CHAPTER XII. 
OF THE MISSION SYSTEM IN CALIFORNIA, AND ITS RESULTS.

It does not fall within the scope of this little sketch, in which nothing 
more has been aimed at than to tell an interesting story in the simplest 
possible way, to enter into any discussion of a question to which what has 
just been said might naturally seem to lead - the question, namely, of the 
results, immediate and remote, of the mission system in California. The 
widely divergent conclusions on this subject registered by the historians 
will, on investigation, be found, as in most such cases, to depend quite 
as much upon bias of mind and preconceived ideals, as upon the bare facts 
presented, concerning which, one would imagine, there can hardly be much 
difference of opinion. To decide upon the value of a given social 
experiment, we must, to begin with, wake up our minds as to what we should 
wish to see achieved; and where there is no unanimity concerning the 
object to be reached, there will scarcely be any in respect of the means 
employed. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that critical judgment 
upon the Franciscan missionaries and their work has been given here in 
terms of unqualified laudation, and there in the form of severest 
disapproval, and that everyone who touches the topic afresh is expected to 
take sides. In their favor it must, I think, be universally admitted that 
they wrought always with the highest motives and the noblest intentions, 
and that their labours were really fruitful of much good among the native 
tribes. On the other hand, when regarded from the standpoint of secular 
progress, it seems equally certain that their work was sadly hampered by 
narrowness of outlook and understanding, and an utter want of appreciation 
of the demands and conditions of the modern world. Thus while we give them 
the fullest credit for all that they accomplished by their teachings and 
example, we have still frankly to acknowledge their failure in the most 
important and most difficult part of their undertaking - in the task of 
transforming many thousands of ignorant and degraded savages into self-
respecting men and women, fit for the duties and responsibilities of 
civilization. Yet to put it in this way is to show sharply enough that 
such failure is not hastily to be set down to their discredit. It is often 
said, indeed, that they went altogether the wrong way to work for the 
achievement of the much-desired result; and it is unquestionably true, as 
La Pérouse long ago pointed out, that they made the fundamental, but with 
them inevitable mistake, of sacrificing the temporal and material welfare 
of the natives to the consideration of so-called "heavenly interests." Yet 
in common fairness we must remember the stuff with which they had to deal. 
The Indian was by nature a child and a slave; and if, out of children and 
slaves they did not at once manufacture independent and law-abiding 
citizens, is it for us, who have not yet exhibited triumphant success in 
handling the same problem under far more favorable conditions, to cover 
them with our contempt, or dismiss them with our blame? Civilization is at 
best a slow and painful affair, as we half-civilized people ought surely 
to understand by this time - a matter not of individuals and years, but of 
generations and centuries; and nothing permanent has ever yet been gained 
by any attempt, how promising soever it may have seemed, to force the 
natural processes of social evolution. The mission padres bore the cross 
from point to point along the far-off Pacific coast; they built churches, 
they founded settlements, they gave their strength to the uplifting of the 
heathen. Little that was enduring came out of all this toil. Perhaps this 
was partly because their methods were shortsighted, their means inadequate 
to the ends proposed. But when we remember that they had set their hands 
to an almost impossible task, we shall perhaps be inclined rather to 
acknowledge their partial success, than to deal harshly with them on the 
score of their manifest failure. 

Be all this as it may, however, the missions of California passed away, 
leaving practically nothing behind them but a memory. Yet this is surely a 
memory to be cherished by all who feel a pious reverence for the past, and 
whose hearts are responsive to the sense of tears that there is in mortal 
things. And alike for those who live beneath the blue skies of California, 
and for those who wander awhile as visitors among her scenes of wonder and 
enchantment, the old mission buildings will ever be objects of curious and 
unique interest. Survivals from a by-gone era, embodiments not only of the 
purposes of their founders, but of the faith which built the great 
cathedrals of Europe, they stand pathetic figures in a world to which they 
do not seem to belong. In the noise and bustle of the civilization which 
is taking possession of what was once their territory, they have no share. 
The life about them looks towards the future. They point mutely to the 
past. A tender sentiment clings about them; in their hushed enclosures we 
breathe a drowsy old-world atmosphere of peace; to linger within their 
walls, to muse in their graveyards, is to step out of the noisy present 
into the silence of departed years. In a land where everything is of 
yesterday, and whose marvellous natural beauties are but rarely touched 
with the associations of history or charms of romance, these things have a 
subtle and peculiar power - a magic not to be resisted by any one who 
turns aside for an hour or two from the highways of the modern world, to 
dream among the scenes where the old padres toiled and died. And as in 
imagination he there calls up the ghostly figures of neophyte and soldier 
and priest, now busy with the day's task-work, now kneeling at twilight 
mass in the dimly-lighted chapel; as the murmur of strange voices and the 
faint music of bell and chant steal in upon his ears; he will hardly fail 
to realize that, however much or little the Franciscan missionaries 
accomplished for California, they have passed down to our prosaic after-
generation a legacy of poetry, whereof the sweetness will not soon die 
away.