Saint Junípero Serra in Orange County (Excerpt) - San Juan Capistrano Visitor Series Part 5
Serra’s Third Time in Orange County – The
Founding of Mission San Juan Capistrano – c. October 26 - December 5, 1776
Serra departed from San Diego on October 25th with
Corporal Nicolás Beltrán, ten leather-jacket soldiers, some Baja California
Indians, and Father Gregorio Amurrió to reestablish Mission San Juan Capistrano.
When they arrived a couple of days later, they found the cross still standing
from the year before. Father Amurrió pointed out the spot where the bells had
been buried and Beltrán ordered the soldiers to dig them up. After they were
hung on a makeshift wooden stand or in the branches of an oak, the bells were
rung by the missionaries, echoing through the California hills of San Juan
Canyon far into the distance. In the memories of the event left behind by the
missionaries, “at the peal of [the bells] the pagans gathered, very glad to see
that the fathers had returned to their territory.” While Serra and Amurrió
began their work with the Indians, the soldiers constructed a shelter and a
temporary altar within an enramada, or arbor.
Serra spent the next few days exploring
the surrounding area and was impressed by what he saw, remarking that “this
place has plenty of water, pasture, wood, timber, and, in particular, there are
many rancherías of gentiles who are becoming acquainted with us.” He seems to
have spent these first days visiting the local Indian villages, writing that “I
have visited their rancherías, and have been met everywhere with great
cordiality.” While doing so, he may have been accompanied by the aforementioned
Capistrano, Bernardino and Buenaventura, who knew the area well. One of the
villages he visited was certainly Sagivit, which was very close to the founding
site. He may have also encountered Indians in the villages he passed by while
marching up the El Camino Real in the vicinity of the new mission site, such as
Zoucche in San Mateo Canyon, Tove in Cristianitos Canyon and Piwiva, near the
confluence of San Juan and Gobernadora Canyons. It’s also possible that he
visited two other village sites further up the El Camino Real, Uhunga in
Gobernadora Canyon and Alauna in Trabuco Canyon, or two of the village sites
further down San Juan Canyon from the founding site, Axachme, where the mission
is located today, and Putiidum, just up Trabuco canyon from Axachme. He would
have utilized the well-established trails between villages and given gifts of
trade beads to the Indians in an effort to initiate positive interactions. His
remark that the Indians met him “everywhere with great cordiality” is
consistent with the comments of earlier Spanish visitors to the area, possibly
indicating that the Indians presented him gifts of seeds or acorns, which were
in season, as per their cultural norms of reciprocity and the kind treatment of
guests.
This
map shows the water courses, Indian village sites (in red), mission sites,
primary routes of travel, geographical features and modern cities (for
orientation) in southern Orange County. The locations of the Indian village
sites are approximated by the Early California Cultural Atlas. The routes of
travel are also approximate and don’t include the many routes which likely
existed along natural routes of travel (for example trails are known to have
existed approximately along San Juan Canyon to Lake Elsinore and down San Juan
Canyon to Dana Point, and probably existed along Cristianitos Canyon and Cañada
Chiquita).
After spending up to five days becoming
familiar with the local hills, water courses and Indian villages, Serra and his
companions turned their attention towards formally founding the mission. On
November 1, 1776, the small group of colonists, including Fathers Serra and
Amurrió, Corporal Beltrán, ten leather-jacket soldiers and the Baja California
Indians gathered in front of the altar erected in the enramada made by the
soldiers from wood poles and brush. Serra probably also invited Indians from
the surrounding villages to observe the spectacle, who may have observed from a
distance. It seems especially probable that the aforementioned Capistrano,
Buenaventura, and Bernardino were also present at the founding.
Serra started by asking Father Amurrió to
assist him and together they “begged first of all for the divine assistance.”
After doing so, Serra led the small retinue in prayers, probably singing the
Veni, Creator Spiritus. He then one-by-one blessed the water, the site, the
cross, and bells. Following these ceremonies, the participants all gathered at
the cross and venerated it. While the men observed in silence, Serra made his
way around the cross, sprinkling holy water in all directions while saying more
prayers in concert with the sounds of wind across the hills and dirt below his
feet. When he finished, Serra wrote that he “declared established this new
pueblo of Christianity and of the dominions of our Catholic King’s dominions.”
The flags of the King and that of Spain were each unfurled, accompanied by the
ringing of the bells and salutes from the rifles of the leather-jackets into
the air, echoing through the canyon and breaking up shouts from the men in the
top of their voices, “Long live the Faith! Long live the King!” Serra then sang
a solemn high Mass before giving “the usual sermon.” After its completion, he
likely removed his chasuble and led a harmonious version of the Salve Regina.
Finally, to conclude the celebration, he likely intoned the Te Deum
Laudamus.
Serra was so pleased following the
founding celebration that he sat down at his desk, in what was at best a
shelter constructed of branches, leaves and grass, if not open to the sky, to
take up his quill to write the viceroy, giving thanks. He wrote:
“I do not wish to keep Your Excellency in suspense in regard to the news, which
I know will be a source of delight and happiness to you. I wish to inform Your
Excellency that today, November 1, after the prayers and the blessing of the
water, the site, the cross and the bells, according to custom, I have just
finished singing the solemn Mass, and preaching the usual sermon, which ushered
into being, so to speak, the Mission of San Juan Capistrano. It is the
handiwork of Your Excellency, and is located in a place called by those born
there ‘Quanis-savit’ [‘Sagivit’]; it is midway between San Diego Mission and
San Gabriel de los Temblores Mission; and on the same spot where, last year, it
had been planned and started.”
Perhaps nothing pressed more upon Serra’s mind than the establishment of new
missions. Palóu even said of his desire that “there were not lacking persons
of good standing and character who, knowing the effectiveness of Father
Junípero in projecting new missions, said of him: ‘Father Junípero is indeed a
saintly man; but in this matter of seeking to build missions, he is an annoying
saint.’” The founding of San Juan Capistrano was therefore a seminal moment for
Serra during his time in California. It was one of only seven missions in Alta
California that he personally founded.
The
original founding site of Mission San Juan Capistrano occurred somewhere in
this photograph of San Juan Canyon. The valley and watercourse was originally
named Santa María Magdalena during the Portolá Expedition, which passed through
on the far right side of the photograph, but took on the informal name “La
Quema,” or “the burned/scorched,” probably based on the fires the Indians would
intentionally set to promote the growth of wild edibles and to assist in the
hunting of small game. It was here that the mission was originally founded and
abandoned in 1775. The Santa Ana Mountains, including Old Saddleback (Modjeska
and Santiago Peaks), are visible in the background. The mission depended on
these mountains for water, which was dependent on inconsistent rainy seasons.
When the winters in the years 1776-1778 proved to be dry, the mission was moved
downstream to its current location where there was access to not only the water
from San Juan Canyon, but also Trabuco Canyon.
As the soldiers constructed the
buildings, Serra made plans to head up to Mission San Gabriel to retrieve more
than eighty head of cattle, formerly allocated to Mission San Buenaventura but
now destined for Mission San Juan Capistrano. He also planned to bring back an
Indian translator to help facilitate the conversion process at the new mission.
Serra was particularly pleased with the idea of already having an interpreter,
writing that to “give them [the Indians] instruction will not be very difficult
–easier, in fact, than has been the case with the other missions founded before
this.” Since their theology required the Indians to convert to Christianity
willingly, the mission Fathers often went to great lengths to ensure that
potential converts could sincerely commit to the Catholic faith. One of their
challenges was translating the catechism into the local Indian language. San
Juan Capistrano was the first mission founded in Alta California where the
neighboring mission could provide interpreters, leading Serra to believe that
the initial conversion process could be accelerated. In his first days at San
Juan Capistrano, Serra reported that he had already learned that the local
Indian “language is not entirely the same as that of San Gabriel,” but also
determined that “many from there know the language of this place [San Juan
Capistrano], and vice-versa, as they are neighboring nations, and are in
constant touch with each other.”
On November 3, just two days after the
founding, Serra left San Juan Capistrano for San Gabriel with three soldiers,
José Antonio Peña, José Dolores Domínguez and Francisco Acebedo. Together, they
made their way up through Gobernadora Canyon, northwest over Trabuco Canyon and
on past Tomato Springs and Santiago Creek to the Santa Ana River near Olive,
where they likely camped. From there, they passed just south of the Coyote
Hills to the San Gabriel River, at which they turned northward towards Mission
San Gabriel, likely reaching it on November 4. Serra and the soldiers spent
about a week at San Gabriel, organizing the more than eighty head of cattle
while also gathering various tools and supplies that were originally intended
for Mission San Buenaventura. Serra also procured an Indian interpreter who
could speak Spanish, although there very likely were few choices given that
Mission San Gabriel was just five years old and the Indians and Spaniards had
difficulties learning each other’s languages. At this early date, too, it’s
unlikely that the missionaries would have had a thorough understanding of the
intricacies and extent of the various language dialects throughout the
region.
After all the preparations had been made
and the pack-mules loaded, Serra and his companions were ready to make their
way back to Mission San Juan Capistrano, departing on or about November 11.
Since the cattle slowed their pace, they would have likely planned on spending
a night or two on the trail. Traveling through thirsty lands far into the dry
season, they would have almost certainly camped on the Santa Ana River near
Olive, where both the men and animals could have water to drink.
Leaving early on the morning of the
November 12, Serra and his companions conducted the cattle southeast through
Orange County, descending into Trabuco Canyon through a canyon now traversed by
Santa Margarita Parkway. Serra was reportedly eager to return and went out
ahead, accompanied by the soldier José Antonio Peña and the Indian interpreter
from Mission San Gabriel. After crossing the shady creek, they made their way
along the open road in today’s O’Neil Park upon the large grassy flats below
Lone Hill, near the Indian village of Alauna, which was located down along the
oak-lined canyon.
As they continued on their way, Serra and
his companions soon noticed a number of Indians shouting and coming out to meet
them. Although not an uncommon occurrence for Spanish travelers through the
area at the time, Serra’s apprehension quickly rose as he saw that they were
armed with bows and arrows. Their shouts, too, soon grew in intensity and their
numbers quickly increased to the point of blocking the road, cutting Serra, his
companions and the animals off. Everything slowed to a halt. The dust kicked up
by the animals began to rise. Serra and Peña probably pleaded with the
interpreter to intervene. The interpreter then shouted in his native language
that they should be allowed to pass. In the ensuing exchange, the interpreter
realized that he didn’t understand the language of the Indians on the road. In
a last ditch effort to restore calm, he shouted back that there were other
Spanish soldiers in the area who were ready to fight if they or the cattle were
harmed. On hearing this, the Indians blocking the road backed down, indicating
that they understood the interpreter even if he didn’t understand them. Before
the urgency of adrenaline and pounding of hearts had time to moderate, Serra
had pivoted into his duties as a benevolent missionary. He apparently called
the once threatening Indians over, blessed them with the sign of the cross and
distributed gifts of glass beads.
The incident between Serra and the Indians of
Alauna happened in this area. To the left are the trees that line Trabuco
Creek. The creek was named during the Portolá Expedition when a soldier lost
his gun, a blunderbuss, or “trabuco” in Spanish. The large flat area to the
right of the photograph was used as a campsite by the expedition on the nights
of July 24 and 25, 1769. In November of 1776, Serra accompanied cattle down El
Camino Real (visible on the right side of the photograph) back to Mission San
Juan Capistrano. The Indians from the village of Alauna, located in the area
along the creek, met Serra and his companions with the apparent intention of
stopping the cattle. The incident plays an important role in Palóu’s biography
of Serra as one of the few times Serra feared for his life during his time in
Alta California. Visible in the background is Old Saddleback, comprised of
Modjeska and Santiago Peaks. After tensions ceased, Serra, his companions, and the cattle traveled the rest of the way to the mission without incident. When they arrived, they were met by Corporal Beltrán, who reported that two soldiers and a servant had deserted in the morning. The news discouraged Serra, who knew that the loss in manpower would increase the burden on those who remained. He was also well aware that the extra soldiers sent to assist with the founding would soon return to the presidio, leaving only the permanent guard of five soldiers and the corporal to continue the work. Serra was eager to maximize the temporal and spiritual progress of the mission, but now felt greater pressure from the growing challenges caused by the shortages of men and time. Although he may have reflexively blamed Rivera or even Ortega for their more cautious enthusiasm in establishing missions, it was hard for Serra to argue with their unwillingness to risk any prolonged absence of additional soldiers from the presidio following the revolt in San Diego a year earlier.
To make matters worse, Serra and Peña
then had to report to Corporal Beltrán what occurred in Trabuco Canyon. After
gleaning all the details he could, Beltrán decided he wouldn’t take any chances
and wrote a report of the incident to his superior, Lieutenant Ortega, back at
the San Diego Presidio. In his report, Beltrán conveyed that the situation
was quite serious, writing that “the gentiles of the ‘Trabuco’ wanted to
assault the Reverend Padre Presidente Fray Junípero Serra, who had gone out
ahead of some cargo with the soldier José Antonio Peña…and [the gentiles]
proceeded with arms in hand to cut them off from passing along the road with
the intention to fight.” He went on to assert that violence was only avoided
because “the interpreter from San Gabriel, whom the reverend father brought
along, had told them that [more soldiers] were in the new Mission and were
eager to fight back.” Ortega received Beltrán’s report on November 15 and
immediately ordered Corporal Mariano Carrillo with four soldiers to head to
Mission San Juan Capistrano to determine whether or not the Indians from
Trabuco Canyon were still a threat. Carrillo was also ordered to “punish the
Indians in the manner that seemed most appropriate to the Father President.” It
seems Ortega wasn’t about take any chances either.
Carrillo and the four soldiers arrived at
Mission San Juan Capistrano on the morning of November 17. Beltrán met
privately with Carrillo to inform him of what happened in Trabuco Canyon,
saying that “some armed Indians appeared and they wanted to take the cattle”
and that “after the interpreter spoke to the Indians, they backed off and let
the Father [Serra] and the soldiers go on their way.” But he also added that
since writing his original report of the incident to Ortega on November 12,
five days had passed without incident. In fact, Beltrán stated that in the
interim, “nothing like that has happened again, actually, it has been quite the
opposite; two gentiles, who were captains of rancherías, appeared and said to
the padres that they wanted to come and live at the mission with the goal of
becoming Christians.” He also said that “all the gentiles who lived in the
vicinity were coming and going in and out of the mission without any
difficulty, since nobody was paying much attention to them.”
After meeting with Beltrán, Carrillo met
with Serra. Carrillo informed Serra that he had orders to “punish the Indians
in the manner that seemed most appropriate to the Father President.” But Serra
demurred, answering that he was “of the opinion that nothing should be done,
that everything should remain as it was.” Carrillo, who at this point was
probably questioning the purpose of his presence, pressed Serra for more
information on what had occurred. Serra responded that “the Indians just
happened to be wandering casually in the area and as is their custom, they
started to shout and make a ruckus when they saw the padre and the soldiers
passing by.” Being a seasoned soldier who was as experienced as any Spaniard with
the Indians of California, Carrillo knew that Serra’s report of what had
occurred was hardly worthy of note and could not explain why Ortega had ordered
him to personally investigate. So Carrillo again pressed for more information
and Serra simply replied that, for the Indians, the Spaniards were “somewhat of
a novelty and they wanted to see who these people were up close, so they
approached the road and made all that noise.” Serra didn’t yield.
Although Carrillo was left somewhat
confounded by what he had learned, he carried out his duties to the best of his
ability and suggested to Serra that he “would head out leisurely in the
direction of El Trabuco to see how the Indians reacted,” but added “I would not
stop at any ranchería nor let on to them what I was doing.” Serra agreed and
said he’d accompany him. By this time Serra had been doing missionary work in
the area for weeks and knew an Indian from one of the neighboring villages who
he reported “had a good command of the language of the Indians at San Gabriel,
[and could] go with us and speak to the Indians, since the interpreter [from
Mission San Gabriel] does not understand the language of those at El Trabuco.”
Carrillo thought this was a good idea and planned for the interpreter to make the
Indians in Trabuco Canyon “understand that the behavior they had exhibited was
not good.” But alas, the local interpreter could not be located. Although
Carrillo wrote that “I still wanted to carry out my plan,” he added that “the
Padre [Serra] was of the opinion that this was not necessary, so I did not go.”
Father
Ignacio Tirsch, a Jesuit missionary, made a series of watercolors during his
tenure as a missionary in Baja California from 1762-1768. His images give us
the best idea of the appearance of the Spanish colonists in Alta California in
its earliest years. Artist
Joanne Haskell Crosby, whose husband, Harry W. Crosby, is one of the great
California historians of the Spanish colonial era, made modern renderings
of Tirsch's
watercolors in the 1990s. One of Tirsch's sketches, redone by Crosby
and shown above, was of the then governor of Baja California, Fernando Rivera y
Moncada (in the center) with his wife (at left). It’s hard to say to what
degree Tirsch accurately depicted Rivera’s facial features, but the image still
gives us an impression of the style of clothing used in the Spanish colonies at
the time. Rivera was the military commander of Alta California who came to an
agreement with Serra to found Mission San Juan Capistrano. The frontier Spanish
soldier to the right is equipped with a thick leather jacket to defend himself
against bows and arrows used by the Indians. Since many of the soldiers in
Alta California came from Baja California, some of the very individuals
depicted in Tirsch's images, such as this one, may have later become soldiers
in the guard at Mission San Juan Capistrano. Today Tirsch’s works are kept in
the National
Library of the Czech Republic, where they can all be accessed online.The whole matter would have likely ended with Carrillo’s report if it weren’t for a different version of the events purported to have been told by Serra himself to his close friend and fellow missionary, Francisco Palóu. Just over a decade after the incident occurred, Palóu published the Relación Histórica de la Vida del Ven. P. Fr. Junípero Serra, the first biography of Serra, published in 1787. In it, Palóu wrote a far more dramatic version of the story in Trabuco Canyon that “His Reverence [Serra] told me on the first occasion we met thereafter.” According to Palóu, Serra apparently “firmly believed that they [the Indians] were going to kill him” and that a “large crowd of pagans came out upon them [Serra and Peña] on the road, all painted and well-armed, emitting fearful yells, their arrows aimed in readiness to kill the priest and the soldier, with the purpose, no doubt, of obtaining the cattle.” At this moment, “God delivered them by means of the neophyte, who on seeing the intent of the pagans yelled out to them not to kill the father, for many soldiers were following and these would kill them.” In “hearing this in their own language and dialect, they desisted.” Serra at this point “called to them, and they approached him, now transformed into gentle lambs.” He “blessed them all, as ever was his custom, and then gave them beads as presents (pieces of glass which they highly esteem), and left them, having won their friendship.”
One of the purposes of Palóu’s biography of Serra was to inspire a new generation of missionaries to volunteer for service in California. In this context, the book was written in a dramatic and inspirational style that historians must consider when using it as a primary source. Still, something about Palóu’s version of what occurred between Serra and the Indians in Trabuco Canyon rings true. Perhaps it’s Palóu’s mention that Serra told the story himself. Perhaps too, it’s his inclusion of many details that would have otherwise been unknown to him while living in Monterey and San Francisco during the period, yet are consistent with the official reports of Lieutenant Ortega and Sergeant Carrillo. The central detail in Palóu’s version of the story, which is missing in the official reports, is that Serra was indeed concerned for his life. Palóu mentioned the incident twice in a long chapter on Serra’s virtues at the end of his biography, even quoting Serra directly as saying that “I really did believe the hour had arrived for me to obtain what I had so greatly desired.” The reason Serra said this, Palóu wrote, was because he was desirous of being a martyr in order to help facilitate the conversion of the Indians. Although Serra’s version of the story may have grown more dramatic by the time he told Palóu, the fact that he brought it up at all suggests that it was at the very least notable and probably a generally accurate description of how Serra really felt, however fleetingly, at the time the incident occurred. The more dramatic elements could also help explain the urgency of Corporal Beltrán’s initial letter to Ortega describing what occurred and why Ortega responded by sending Carrillo to investigate.
Whatever the exact details may have been, the story highlights the difference between Serra and the Indians’ perspectives in this early period of Spanish colonization in California. Perhaps Serra imagined similar scenarios over a quarter of a century earlier in his native Spain and, perhaps too, such scenarios had inspired him to become a missionary. By the time he was founding San Juan Capistrano, he was a seasoned missionary operating in concert with his theological perspective that the Indians needed to be converted to Christianity for the benefit of their souls. With Mission San Juan Capistrano now founded, he strove to establish friendly relations with the Indians for the purpose of facilitating their transition to becoming neophytes in the mission. The Indians, on the other hand, may have only intended to use their bows and arrows on the cattle passing through their land, perhaps reasonably considering them a conveniently accessible source of food. As hunter-gatherers, they had no knowledge of or use for the cattle’s intended purpose as domesticated animals. Whatever the details may have been, it is a credit to the Spanish and Indians’ shared inclination towards avoiding conflict, despite their significantly different perspectives, that tensions didn’t turn violent in Trabuco Canyon on that November day in 1776.
Within days of the incident occurring, however, both Beltrán and Serra downplayed what occurred in Trabuco Canyon to Carrillo. The reason they did so was because the incident raised no further obstacles to developing the mission. They may have even started to understand that despite the deep cultural, economic and social connections between the Indian villages, each remained generally politically independent. Whatever had occurred between Serra and the Indians in Trabuco Canyon near the village of Alauna was simply not significant enough to cause any downstream effects on the neighboring villages in the area. Besides, new issues arose in the interim that demanded Serra and Beltrán’s attention. The rapidly changing circumstances were simply part of the process of establishing missions.
The new challenges were themselves significant. Serra reported to Carrillo that “a gentile captain from the adjacent ranchería [village] complained that [the soldier Manuel] Robles had raped his wife.” Serra dreaded such news. Besides the damage already done, he knew that nothing threatened the stability of the new and vulnerable mission more than the maltreatment of Indian women by the soldiers. Similar incidents contributed to the revolt in San Diego a year earlier. Unfortunately, these horrific crimes were relatively common in this early period of Spanish colonization. The problem for Serra was how to deal with it. He requested for Carrillo to have “Robles be removed from there [the mission].” But Carrillo hesitated. He first wanted to learn the details of what occurred before agreeing to Serra’s request, writing that “I begged Su Reverencia [Serra] to see if he could arrange to have the gentile and his wife come and give me an account of what happened, and in order to also question the soldiers, but none of this happened.” Serra simply told Carrillo that “he had heard enough and did not want to hear anything more, and he would not get involved.”
The maltreatment of Indian women by soldiers was in part systemic. Although Spanish government officials were committed to colonizing Alta California, they took every step to minimize costs. The results were an inconsistency in the quality of troops, ill-equipped garrisons and few Spanish women living in the province even years after initial colonization efforts. In this context, it’s unsurprising that Serra and the missionaries encountered significant challenges when relying on an underfunded and under-supported military to found missions. It was a losing game and the Indians ended up being the biggest victims.
In the midst of these conditions, the missionaries and military leaders inevitably struggled to strike an effective balance of power in judicial matters. When the soldiers committed crimes, the role of the missionaries typically amounted to making formal complaints to the military leadership, often requesting that soldiers be held accountable for their actions. In the case of Robles, however, Serra saw his own advantage in essentially “outranking” Sergeant Carrillo as Padre Presidente. While he didn’t have the authority to discipline Robles himself, except ecclesiastically, Serra sought to avoid risking further complications by prolonging Robles’ presence in the area during a formal investigation. Instead he simply requested that Carrillo remove Robles from the mission. Being an experienced soldier and well aware of Serra’s tough-minded reputation, Carrillo wanted to avoid being the cause of any further difficulties between the missionaries and the military leadership. He decided it was best to forward the issue to his immediate superior, Lieutenant Ortega. He therefore complied with Serra’s request, taking Robles back to the presidio and leaving in his place the soldier Joaquín Armenta, one of the soldiers who had accompanied him to San Juan Capistrano. In the end, Serra likely considered Robles’ removal to be the best of the undesirable outcomes following such a horrible crime because doing so put the missionaries in the best possible position to continue their work.
Not that work was necessarily going very well. For days, nothing had been heard from the two soldiers and the servant who had run away. While Carrillo was at the mission, he ordered the soldiers accompanying him to assist in whatever capacity they could. The mission was in need of raw materials, especially wood for use in the construction of the buildings, the corral, and the stockade. While wood was available from the trees along the bed of San Juan Creek, they were also surrounded then as they often are now by a second forest of poison oak. The soldiers worked to cut down the trees and drag them by mule to the mission, but the going was rough. When Carrillo finally headed back to the San Diego Presidio following the conclusion of his investigation into the incident in Trabuco Canyon, he reported that Corporal Beltrán was “keeping the project moving forward as best he can, even though he has been left with only two soldiers who are finding it impossible to work because of the ivy [poison oak].”
In the midst of these challenges, Serra still had to attend to his temporal responsibilities overseeing the organization and construction of the new mission. For one, he had to distribute the animals, tools, and supplies he brought from Mission San Gabriel. This included more than eighty head of cattle and twelve mules. At the very least, the mules required a corral and Serra saw to it that one was built, although he lamented that with so much to do he could only provide “a corral, but nothing further for the animals.” He also distributed “a number of other items” which, he wrote, “will be listed in the report of tools, supplies, etc.” These items would have been the same or similar to other missions: farming and carpentry tools, plows, utensils for the kitchen along with a pot for pozole, blankets, cloth and perhaps a chest for the two vestments which Serra left for the missionaries. As mentioned previously, the animals, tools and supplies were originally planned to be used for the founding of Mission San Buenaventura but were instead sent to San Juan Capistrano. While Serra was satisfied to get the new mission founded, he knew in the back of his mind that he would later have to find a way to replenish the supplies and animals necessary to found San Buenaventura. The process ended up taking another six years.
Serra also oversaw the construction of the buildings. After only a few weeks of work, he happily reported that the house for the two missionaries was completed with “the doors hung, and provided with locks.” These dwellings were made of adobe with roofs made of bunches of tule, a bulrush which grew along the local creek beds. He also wrote that the “church [was] well on its way to completion,” and would have also been made of adobe and later roofed with tule.
The
earliest known surviving image of Alta California shows Mission San Carlos
Borromeo in 1786, two years after Serra’s death. It was drawn by Duché de
Vancy, a member of the La Pérouse Expedition, a French scientific and
diplomatic expedition around the world. The man standing in side profile
greeting La Pérouse is Pedro Fages, member of the Portolá Expedition, military
commander of Alta California on two occasions (1770-1774 and 1782-1791), and
Serra’s companion on Serra’s first trip through what would later become Orange
County. Fages’ long jacket is similar to a number of other soldiers standing in
the drawing (four or five of whom have their backs towards the artist), one of
whom may be José Antonio Yorba, one of the most important early rancheros in Orange
County. Notice that the male and female Indians are standing in separate lines,
which is typical of how they would be arranged in mission churches with an
aisle between them, including Mission San Juan Capistrano. Notice, too, the
seemingly haphazard organization of the buildings, which have yet to coalesce
into a quadrangle. The familiar red brick tile, which was very new to the
province at the time of this sketch, seems to be arranged in its familiar
pattern on the building at left. The appearance of Mission San Carlos here is
probably generally analogous to the appearance of Mission San Juan Capistrano
during Serra’s last visit in 1783. While Palóu and the other missionaries saw the Indians’ eagerness to be baptized through the filter of their religious lens, historical evidence suggests the missionaries indeed experienced relative success in their missionary efforts at Mission San Juan Capistrano. By comparison, Mission San Diego, the first mission founded in Alta California, didn’t have its first baptism for up to a year or more after its founding in July of 1769 and Mission San Gabriel had only two baptisms in its first year following its founding in September of 1771. San Juan Capistrano had, by contrast, thirty-nine baptisms in its first year. The difference is at the very least, in part, if not entirely, due to the availability of an interpreter to assist in communication between the missionaries and the Indians. While statistics give only a small insight into the experiences of the people they represent, they also generally support the statements of the missionaries. So, too, does Carrillo’s report of the incident between Serra and the Indians in Trabuco Canyon, which mentions that within weeks of the mission’s founding two Indian village captains had apparently asked to become Christians and enter the mission. If the Indian captains indeed followed through, their higher relative social status would have certainly influenced others from their villages to enter into the mission as well.
The process of conversion was itself somewhat complicated and changed through time. Serra and the missionaries adhered to a process of conversion that had different requirements for adults and children. In early 1775, the guardian of the Apostolic College of San Fernando in Mexico, who presided over all of the Franciscan missionaries in Alta California, sent a circular to all of the missionaries instructing them that if potential converts “have passed or reached the age of eight years, the ministers should refrain from baptizing them as infants and should first try to instruct them and catechize them, because such is not only the ecclesiastical precept but also the divine law.” He added that “adults who have reached reason and discretion cannot be baptized without such Baptism being preceded with proper instruction.” The period of instruction varied, but Serra’s later successor as Padre Presidente, Father Fermín Lasuén, wrote that “it will happen but rarely that anyone is baptized after no more than eight days of instruction,” and that often “fifteen, twenty, and thirty or more days are devoted to it, depending on what they [the missionaries] observe of their aptitude and other circumstances.” Lasuén emphasized the importance and need of this period of instruction, writing that “if there are those who doubt that the Indians complete the instruction with the necessary grasp of the articles of our holy religion, let them keep in mind that there is a strong presumption in our favor when there is a question of observing an obligation so primary, so distinctive, and so necessary, knowing as we do that such an omission would be gravely culpable.”
As an exceptionally devout and highly educated missionary, Serra would have taken the catechism very seriously. By the time he finally left the mission on or about December 5th, he happily reported that “On the spiritual side, I gave them an interpreter and a number of catechumens [Christian convert under instruction before baptism].” He may have even told Palóu that, from his perspective, the Indians’ eagerness to enter the mission to become Christians was so great that it made “the period of instruction seem very long to them.”
While the details of the interactions between Serra and the Indians in this early period are now largely lost, the mission registers may indicate the individuals who were involved and provide some details of their lives. Perhaps not surprisingly, the first adult baptized at the mission was the aforementioned Juan Capistrano, one of the three Indians who had first visited Serra in San Diego. His Indian name was Cutql and his baptism was just the fifth at San Juan Capistrano and the first of an adult. He was from the village of Uhunga, in Gobernadora Canyon along the old El Camino Real and, interestingly, his parents were recorded as already having died. These details may suggest that he was an orphan when Father Lasuén had passed near Uhunga to conduct the first founding of San Juan Capistrano in October 1775 and perhaps, as such, Cutql had shown interest in accompanying the missionary. Lasuén probably also gave him the name “Juan Capistrano.” His baptism occurred on January 4, 1777, a month after Serra left and just a couple of months after the second and permanent founding, suggesting that he was indeed one of the Indians Serra referred to as being under instruction. It seems certain that Serra and Cutql had many interactions while Serra was living and working at the mission. Two other early adult baptisms occurred on February 9, 1777. One of them was Pedro Ompsil, who may have been the captain of the village of Axachme, and his wife Nereinem from the village of Panhe. Their marriage was the first at San Juan Capistrano between local Indians and just the second recorded at the mission. Pedro Ompsil may have been one of the two Indian captains Carrillo mentioned in his report as having come to the mission with the intention of becoming a Christian. Other adults baptized in the early period came from a number of the local villages, including Sagivit and Alauna.
When Serra finally had enough spare time, he wrote the title pages of the mission registers. On November 29th he started with the baptismal register, giving thanks to King Carlos III and Viceroy Bucareli of New Spain. He also included a short account of the founding and named the founding missionaries. A couple of days later, on December 1, he wrote the title page of the marriage register and the following day completed the title page of the burial register. In each he wrote an overview similar to that which he had written in the baptismal register. These registers still exist at the mission today and are occasionally displayed in the mission museum in the west wing of the quadrangle.
The title page of the baptismal register from Mission San Juan Capistrano, written by Serra. Notice Serra’s spelling of Sagivit as “Quanis-savit.” The name is crossed out and to the left is instead identified as “Sajivit”in the hand of Father Amurrió. Interestingly, Serra continued to call it “Quanis-savit” on his visit in 1783, after Amurrió left and the mission was moved in 1778.By early December, Serra felt that work had progressed far enough for him to consider heading back north. The only thing holding him back was that Father Mugártegui, and whatever food he was bringing, had yet to arrive from Mission San Luis Obispo. Serra had originally planned that, “until he arrives, I will stay here, and take his place, as best I can, and then will make my way to Monterey and San Francisco.” But after five very busy weeks at San Juan Capistrano, he felt that he needed to head north to ensure the successful founding of yet another mission, Santa Clara de Asís. He bid Father Amurrió, the soldiers, and Indians an emotional farewell and departed from the mission with a small escort of soldiers on or about December 5, 1776. As they made their way north, Serra had plenty of time to consider all of the challenges facing him in both sustaining the missions which were already established, and looking ahead to founding more. He and the soldiers probably stopped again on the Santa Ana River, near Olive, where they likely spent the night.
When they arrived at Mission San Gabriel on December 6, Serra wrote that just “two hours later, Father Professor [Pablo] Mugártegui came from San Luis [Obispo], with some mules from this mission and some from San Luis, and with provisions for his own mission [San Juan Capistrano].” In fact, Serra was quite content to see that the “San Luis [Obispo] Mission gave Father Pablo corn for the San Juan Capistrano Mission, as much as the mules were able to carry: 11 fanegas of corn [about 17 bushels], and one of garvanzos [about 1.5 bushels of beans].” This provided Serra significant relief, causing him to write to his superior that “these provisions, added to those I got hold of from the San Diego storehouse, and some from San Gabriel, rid me of all anxiety how they [at San Juan Capistrano] were to get along.”
From San Gabriel, Serra continued north and finally arrived back to Mission San Carlos Borromeo near Monterey on January 15, 1777. Shortly after arriving, the new governor, Felipe de Neve, met with Serra and told him that Mission San Juan Capistrano already had “four young Christians” when he passed through sometime around the first day of the year. After all Serra had been through for almost a year and a half since planning the founding, these baptisms gave him hope that the sacrifices and work were worth the effort.
One
of the Indians Serra confirmed during his visit to Mission San Juan Capistrano
in 1783 was a woman in her early 20s named Allam, who was baptized with the name
María Rufina (or Rujina). Allam was from the village of Uchme, which was
located near the site of Las Flores on Camp Pendleton, near the intersection of
the 5 Freeway and Las Pulgas Road. Allam was baptized at San Juan Capistrano in
1779 (SJC Baptism #177), just after El Camino Real was in the process of being
moved from inland to along the coast. That same year, Allam married one of the
founding soldiers at the mission, Pio Quinto Zuñiga. Together they had ten or eleven
children while moving around different Spanish settlements throughout Southern
California. After Pio Quinto died in 1805, Allam continued to play an important
role in the lives of her children. In this document, she gave permission to her
son, Guillermo Antonio, to marry one Justina Elisalde, in the pueblo of Los
Angeles in 1825. Although she didn’t know how to write (“no sabe firmar”), she
signed her name with a cross (bottom right). She has many living descendants. (From
the collection of Don Heffern)Part 6: The Great Stone Church (A future post)
Part 10: Richard Henry Dana at Dana Point
My Story with Phil Brigandi (1959-2019)