The Kiss
From the Diary of Sergeant Juan Pablo
Grijalva, December 1776
When I visited the Mission I learned of the recent insolence
of the savages.
Most of the Indians from the nearby area had fled across
to the other shore, after their rancheria was burned
down by their enemies from San Mateo, and only a few Indians
would come
to the Mission as they went to hunt for ducks on the nearby
lake.
These hunters would be very shy, but they would offer the
Franciscans some ducks, and Fathers Palou and Cambon went
about their business of fishing for souls, offering their
beads and delicacies in exchange. (I actually savored the
little black ball of seeds the savages would give us. They
tasted like toasted almond tamales. If by food faith is won,
I might have been a convert to theirs on these tamales alone. Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph, forgive me for writing these things!)
At any rate, one of these duck-hunting parties of savages
grew so familiar that they became uncommonly bold, started
stealing food, clothes, utensils-all sorts of things-as Indians
do, stealing with no shame.
Then I was told that one of the brutes ran up to Maria Angela
Chumasero, the wife of one of our soldiers, Domingo Alvisa,
whereupon the savage suddenly kissed her on the lips!
When I heard this, my blood began to boil. Naked as Adam,
this filthy beast ran up to Maria Angela, his member flapping
like a banner in some holy procession, to kiss her on the
lips! And when Corporal Alvisa sought to protect her honor,
the savage shot arrows at him. The filthy beast had actually
kissed her! I have seen many soldiers take their pleasures
with Indian women, but never have I heard of such a thing
right before the eyes of our soldiers!
At the same time, another of the duck hunters saw a neophyte
from Mission Carmelo whom he must have thought was his people's
enemy, for the Indian began to aim his arrows at him too,
and began making threatening noises. Finally, they left,
much to the relief of the Mission, after which Maria Angela
was taken by the other women to the Fathers to revive her.
I was amazed and sorely troubled by this report. It so happened
that a few days after I heard this, five Indians came to
visit the Mission while I was there. Corporal Alvisa pointed
out to me the one who threatened the neophyte from Carmelo.
I ordered him arrested on the spot, and we took him to the
guardhouse we had built of logs and tule, and there I gave
him a few lashes.
Two savages who were hunting ducks in the lagoon heard his
cries and came running up, jumping up and down, howling.
Then they had the audacity to take their revenge by shooting
arrows at us. We discharged two shots from our muskets to
scare them off-and at the sound they began to run away, frightened.
I followed them to the wooded mountain by the beach, and
then I retired to the Presidio to take charge in Lieutenant
Moraga's absence, as is my duty There I made plans with the
soldiers to search for the savages.
The next day we set out for the beach, for I suspected that
they had not yet crossed over to the other shore, in order
to have them flogged for shooting arrows in the Mission.
My object was to fill their hearts with dread, for they must
learn now, at the outset, a wisdom taught by all soldiers
of the Crown, a wisdom as much a staple of their souls as
the blessings of the Fathers. They must be made to feel
fear.
On the beach we encountered the band of savages. By signs
I asked them who had shot arrows at the Mission, and the
savages readily pointed out the two guilty ones. The accused
loudly protested their innocence, but when I dismounted to
seize them, the two culprits fled, with two of our soldiers
pursuing them. But then the other Indians suddenly turned
on us and began to shoot arrows at us. One of the settlers,
Pedro Perez de la Fuente, had forgotten to wear his leather
jacket, and he was slightly wounded by one of the arrows,
as was also one of the horses.
I commanded that the muskets be discharged. One of the Indians
fell dead by the water, killed by this same settler Pedro
Perez de la Fuente, while the others fled to some rocks isolated
in the surf nearby from where they continued shooting arrows.
I then discharged my own musket, with the ball passing through
the leg of one of the Indians and digging into the rock.
With one dead and another wounded, the savages threw down
their bows and arrows, pleading for peace. I threw down my
gun in a similar fashion. But despite my gestures of peace,
they would not return to the beach to pick up their belongings.
Meanwhile, the soldiers had captured the two culprits who
had run away to the mountain. I charged them with the insolence
of shooting their arrows in the Mission, and caused them
to be whipped. Although they could not understand me, I believe
they understood the flogging. After the lashes, I made cutting
signs at my neck to indicate that if they were to commit
their crime again, I would kill them. They quivered in fear,
but I told them to gather up their belongings, as well as
those of their companions, and that if they did not violate
our trust again, we would be friends.
In the absence of our commanding officer, I took all of this
upon myself, feeling that, as sergeant, it was my duty to
conduct ourselves in this fashion, since it is our charge
to protect the missionaries in their Holy labors of saving
souls and keeping Russians from our land, and the necessity
of swift punishment to serve as a lesson requires our utmost
and immediate attention, otherwise the insolence of the savages
would know no bounds.
Our situation-the necessity of soldiers to accompany the
missionaries-can be compared to the banner I have seen Father
Garces use to convert the Indians, a comparison which I will
endeavor to explain.
Father Garces would show the savages the large painting of
the Most Holy Virgin with the Child Jesus in her arms. The
Indians would manifest great and noisy delight at the image,
marveling at it, saying that it was good, and that they wished
to be Christians in order to be white and beautiful like
the Virgin. Father Garces would tell them that they could,
at another time, but that at the present it could not be.
Father Garces would then quickly reverse the banner, on which
was pictured a condemned soul burning in Hell, whereupon
the pagans would raise a great outcry and shrink back, saying
that they did not like that! In such a way, Father Garces
would
introduce their catechisms, not allowing them easy baptism
without learning at least the beginnings of reason. I have
seen him do the same with the Opas and the Yumas, and I have
admired his method, along with his phlegmatic ability to
get along with these simple creatures.
In our situation, the Fathers are the bearers of Heaven,
but we are the other side of the banner-the soldiers must
be the tormentors of Hell. We can easily paint such a picture,
particularly as the Fathers come from Spain, while we soldiers
come from Sonora, so many from its jails.
As this was the first crime committed at the Mission, we
needed to locate the culprits and to punish them swiftly
in order for the Indians to understand that we have come
to bring them either the blessings of the Church or the muskets
of the King. In any case, the Fathers must be protected,
no matter how these savages decide, and for that they spend
their
That night we sang the Alabado with Fathers Palou and Cambon,
content in the exercise of our duties. I told Father Palou
that I believed these Indians had never felt the stings of
a flogging before. I told them they had been so surprised
by the lash, that they howled as much in consternation and
humiliation as in pain.
Father Palou looked saddened. The Father felt that these
strange creatures were like his children, and he wept.
"Well," I said to Father Palou, for I wanted
him to be relieved of his sorrow; "now that they know
the lash, they will be able to approach reason. Soon you
will have your flock."
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