UC-NRLF B ^ 103 3bE RAMON A'S HOMELAND BY MARGARET V. ALLEN San Diego, California COPYRIGHTED 1914 by Margaret V. Allen A R333 To The Pioneer Society of San Diego County 327845 The Old San Diego M RAMONA'S HOMELAND AMONA was published in 1884, thirty years ago, and today is more popu- lar on the Pacific Coast and over the entire country than at any time since it issued from the press. In the generation since Helen Hunt Jackson passed from us, many literary fashions have come and gone. The popular novels of the eighties, dealing with religious doubts and inward questionings, have grown old and be- come difficult reading. The last dec- ade of the nineteenth century, with its false sentiment and striving after effect, has passed into history leaving little that is of permanent value. With the earlier years of the twentieth century has come a strong reaction from the esthetic arid emotional to the practical and useful in literature as well as in life. But through all the varying fortunes of books and authors, this little story of Western life among a humble people has gone through edition after edition, and scarcely a year has passed without the publication of some book or magazine article intended to throw light upon the motives of the author or the incidents that she used in build- her story. Much that is absolutely false and misleading has been written and told of the preparation of this powerful and graphic tale,— the greatest novel ever written by an American woman. Houses are pointed out in different parts of California — a half dozen of them — as the identical places where Ramona was written. Even the chair in which Mrs. Jackson is said to have sat while writing the story is on exhibition in this city. And yet Mrs. Jackson herself says that every word of "Ramona" was written in the Berkeley Apartment House in New York City, between December 1st, 1883 and March 31st, 1884. Although the writting of "Ramona" took place on the sixth floor of a New York Apartment house, the book belongs none the less to Southern California, and especially to San Diego County. "Through Ramona's Country," by George Wharton James, is a most thorough and scholarly study of the motives and purposes of the author. It shows the sources of the facts that she used so skillfully in the romance, and gives the names of the men and women whom she met in her trips into the back country, many of whom became characters in the charming story which they helped her to create. It does not seem possible that a work of this character could be better, or the spirit of the author more firmly grasped than has been done by Mr. James. He is a man after Mrs. Jackson's own heart, and present day readers of Ramona are fortunate, in- deed, in having such an interpreter and guide. Among the great number of intro- ductions to Ramona, and in the vast amount of literature on Ramona land, there is much in common. All writers that have attempted to explain the purpose of the author or give the sources from which she collected her material have spent much of their time, and done most of their research work in the vicinity of Los Angeles and Pasadena. Many of Mrs. Jackson's most sym- pathetic and helpful friends lived in Los Angeles County. The comfort and companionship that she found in the home of Don Antonio Coronel and his charming wife, the comradship of the most brilliant woman in South- ern California, Mrs. Jeanne C. Carr, and the practical assistance, in a busi* nessway, of Abbott Kinney cannot be over-estimated. In her study of old Mission history j and life, she found Santa Barbara and San Gabriel the best preserved and most typical of the buildings erected by the padres; and about each had gathered a wealth of stories and tra- ditions that other historians and novel- ists besides Mrs. Jackson have found invaluable. But none seems to have realized fully the part that San Diego had in the life of the author and the background that it furnishes for the romance that be- longs peculiarly to this city and county. Only one that had a part in the old San Diego of the early eighties', which Mrs. Jackson knew so well and loved so tenderly, can appreciate how much of its romance and beauty has been woven into the story. To her, the little town on the bay was the center of Ramona's country, and about it clustered the history and tradition that she needed for the novel that should, in her own words, "set forth some Indian experiences in a way to move people's hearts/' Mrs. Jackson had visited Southern California for a few weeks in 1872, and had written with enthusiasm of its scenery and climate. Shortly after- ward she had moved to Colorado, which was her home during the remainder of her life. She traveled much in search of health and on visits to old friends whom she had known during the years spent with her husband, a popular army officer, in western forts. She made several journeys from the Atlantic to the Pacific visiting Indian reservations and Army posts on the frontier. In the course of these visits she was so pro- foundly moved by the injustice suffered by the Indians that for the remainder of her life all literary interests and ambitions were subordinated to the one purpose of doing something to- ward righting the wrongs of these helpless people. After a winter of hard work in the Astor library she published, "The \ Century of Dishonor/' in 1881. This book was most carefully prepared from government documents, military records, and the reports of Indian agents. It told the story of the deal- ings of the Government with the na- tive tribes through its entire history. She had been guided at the most im- ( portant points by the counsel of regular army officers of wide Indian exper- ience, and had authority for every statement that she made and every conclusion that she reached. Yet in spite of all this careful and painstaking investigation the book had little influ- ence. She sent a copy to every member of Congress at her own ex-* pense, but she saw her plain statements discredited by mere civilians as unre- liable and hysterical. Although the publication of "The Century of Dishonor" failed to ao complish the purpose for which it was written, it opened up opportunities for carrying on her chosen work along another line. The Century Magazine, the successor of the old Scribners, was looking about for subjects and writers that should add to the interest of the new literary venture. In the far south west was a field that had been little exploited. San Diego was becoming known throughout the East as the terminus of a transcontinental road, The Atchinson, Topeka, and Santa Fe. A great commerical city was to grow up in the south western corner of the republic, that should rival San Francisco itself. To literary and historical readers, San Diego had a special interest. It was the place where history had begun on the Pacific Coast. The first mission founded by Father Junipero Serra * was here, and two others of the best known of the twenty-one Missions were in the vicinity. The surround" ing valleys had been the early homes of the Indians gathered into these Mis- sions, and after the Secularization Act by which the great bulk of the Church property came into the possession of the government, the converts had re- turned to the homes of their fore- fathers. Here they put into practice the arts of civilization learned from their devoted teachers. They built comfortable adobe homes, set out or- chards, and planted vineyards. In many of these Indian villages primitive* churches were built, and the San Diego priest made occasional visits to these scattered converts to baptize their children and marry the youths and maidens of the tribe. The Spanish ranch owners, true to , their promise to the Mexican govern- ment, allowed the Indians to retain their lands on the grants to which they themselves held title after the American occupation. But when these ranches were sold or transferred to American owners or, when the government land upon which many of these Indian vil- lages were built was taken up by set- tiers, the rights of the Indians were disregarded and white squatters came in, and took possession of the orchards, the vineyards and even the homes of the aborigines. Appeals were made to the govern- ment at Washington, but the law was on the side of the white settlers. The American Courts, before which the cases, involving the rights of the In- dians settled upon Spanish grants and goverment land, were tried and adjudi- cated, could not, under the treaty made at the close of the Mexican war, give to the Indians what was denied them by law. Occasional articles had ap- peared in newspapers and perodicals regarding these victims of the white man's heartless encroachments. The subject was one that appealed strongly ■■-'■■ tiferi Ijrr^-r-^r-r^ _ ^ & Lijfflw f3$S^j£V ^^^'|^^;^ : ; Ruins of Church built by Indian Refugees at San Pasqual to a large class of the reading public. Mrs. Jackson had shown, in "The Century of Dishonor," a familiarity with Indian affairs in California as well as in other portions of the coun- try; so in 1881 she was engaged by The Century Company to write a series of articles on "Missions and Mission Indians of Southern Cali- fornia" for the magazine. In the autumn of that year she came to San Diego, and during the winter and the following spring she visited many of the tribes in the county. She lived while here at the hospitable home of Mrs. D. J Whipple, who for years kept boarders in the house still standing, little change ed, on the south-east corner of G and Tenth Streets. Mrs. Jackson occupi- ed the room on the second floor facing south, and made a most delight- ful addition to the family. Her room was homelike and attractive from the moment that she Mrs. Jackson's Home while in San Diego took possession. She always carried with her a small collection of rare prints, a few baskets, and a rug or two; when these were arranged on the walls, couch and table, she was at home. She was fond of "pretty things," and one evening showed to a group of the women boarders two beautiful soft knitted opera hoods much worn at that time in the East. These were greatly admired by the ladies, and Mrs. Jackson offered to send orders to the knitter, living in an eastern city, for as many hoods as might be desired. Among the guests at the house were several railway officials, connected with the line that was nearing completion, army officers with their families, professional men, several eastern tourists, and two or three teachers in the public schools. Many of the older generation of San Diego people still remember her well. She was at this time a hand- some women of fiftyone. She had an air that has been described as commanding, and her self-poise was so perfect that she seemed to some cold and reserved. Her likes and dislikes were spontaneous, ardent, and sometimes unjust. A characteristic anecdote is told of her at this time. Sitting at the same table was a bright, talkative little woman who had re- cently come to San Diego to teach in one of the public schools. She fre- quently commented upon the traits and doings of her pupils in uncomplimen- tary terms, calling the unfortunate chil- dern that were under her charge, "imps." One day she had made a witty comment on the mental defi- ciency of a pupil, and a laugh went around the table. Mrs. Jackson turn- ed her flashing eyes upon the young woman and said in cold measured tones; "I wonder that the Board al- lows you to retain your position in the schools of this city." Mrs. Jackson brought letters of in- troduction to several residents of San Diego; among these were E. W. Morse and Daniel Cleveland, from whom she received much assistance and encouragement. She was warm- ly recommended by church authorities to Bishop Mora and Father Ubach, the priest in charge of the San Diego parish. She found in the latter a warm friend and a most enthusiastic co-worker in her task of ascertaining the "History and Present Condition of 3 the Mission Indians." She frequently accompanied him or his assistant in their visits to the back country, where she heard from the Indians themselves the story of their misfortunes. There are no finer passages in the entire book than those in which she f describes Father Ubach, the soldier priest, — the most unique and interest- ing figure in all California Church history next to Father Junipero himself. Mrs. Jackson tells of his devotion to the hundreds of Mission Indians whom he visited in their "shifting refuges/' once or twice a year to administer the sacraments of the church; 'for whom he wrote bootless letter after letter to the government officials at Washing- ton; and for whom he made equally bootless efforts to win some justice, some protection from officials nearer home. He had endeavored to stir the church itself to greater efficiency in their behalf, but now he had become disheartened and indignant, with that intense suppressed indignation which the poetic temperment alone can feel. He had ceased, — had said, 'it is of no use; I will speak no word; I am done; I can bear no more/" Is it any wonder that, when Mrs. Jackson came, — with her boundless enthusiasm, her appreciation for what was noble and fine in the character of the Indian, and her opportunity to reach a wide and intelligent audience of American men and women through a leading magazine, — Father Ubach took courage and entered into her plans with a zeal and industry scarcely second to that of the author herself? That she appreciated his assistance as well as his devoted life and character, the pages in "Ramona" given to Father Gaspara testify. Mrs. Jackson gained much of her insight into the hospitable and patri- archal life of the Spanish and Mexican i ranches during her frequent visits at Guajome. The mistress of the ranch at this time was Madame Couts, the daughter of Juan Bandini, and the wife of Lieut. Cave Couts. From her, Mrs. Jackson heard the history of San Louis Rey Mission, and the story of the devoted labors of Father Peyri. {The daily life of the household, with its retinue of Indian servants, its gener- ous welcome to travellers, and its deeply religious atmosphere, impressed her greatly. If the Morena ranch had any defi- nite existence outside the author's brain, Patio at Guajom it must have been at Guajome. It is two 2 days journey from San Diego, a few miles from San Louis Rey, and less than six hours by a 'fleet pony' from Temecula. Its life and activities fitted rwell the picture of the surroundings of the little group that were to have the leading part in her drama. But I Ramona, Alessandro, Senora Morena and Felipe, although composite types from many characters that the author had met, were, after all, pure fiction, the children of Mrs. Jackson's own brain; and so their home life, while it \ resembled the daily routine at Guajome, never had any real existence. Mrs. Jackson says that she obtained the description of the old Spanish ranch-house during a two hours visit at Camulos Ranch, situated near Newhall, half way between Los Angeles and Santa Barbara. But a careful analysis of the incidents of the story connected with the Morena ranch seem to prove conclusively that San Louis Rey Mission Mrs. Jackson never intended to make Camulos Ranch the home of Ramona. She simply used the house and its surroundings because it fitted her pur- pose better than the Couts home, which was smaller and more modern than the home of the del Valle family. The homes of the Spanish and Mexi- can families of Southern California, were all of the same type. Low rooms arranged about a central court in which much of the family life was carried on. The Estudillo home in Oldtown, known to tourists as "Ramona's Marriage Place/' which is visited by thousands of travellers each season, is built on the plan com- mon to all early California homes. The arrangement of the rooms; the gardens in the court yard, with their old fashioned flowers; the large out door oven; the olla, with its cool water on the warmest day, make the scenes in the story realistic to eastern visitors that have read Ramona as a part of their preparation for a winter's trip to Southern California. John Hinton, now living in Old Town, was her driver in many of the most interesting excursions in the im- mediate vicinity. She often visited the old Mission, the dam, — built by the fathers, a few miles above on the San Diego River, — and the Arguello home at La Punta. But most of all she loved the drive on the Point; "the most beautiful drive in America/' a famous traveller once said, with the quiet waters of the bay on one side, and beyond the soft outlines of the Mexican hills, and on the other side the blue waters of the Pacific stretch- ing out to infinity. In the story, & Alessandro describes the harbor: "It is the most beautiful water I have ever seen, Majella. The two high lands come out like two arms to hold it and keep it safe, as if they loved it." And the light house on the PointI How old San Diegans miss it I The first star ot the night it seemed to the little children, and all night long its cheery light shone on the western horizon until sunrise. Mrs. Jackson has used the harbor and the Point and the light house most effectively in the approach of Ramona and Alessandro to San Diego, where they came to be married by the priest "that was a friend to the Indians." For her description of the marriage, Mrs. Jackson did not have to rely on her imagination. The story of the marriage of a young girl belonging to one of the oldest and most prominent Spanish families of Southern Cali- fornia, to an Indian, was known and often told, long before the author of Ramona came to San Diego. Father Ubach declared that the account as given by Mrs. Jackson, was accurate, and added that she had told it much better than he could. The marriage took place in the old chapel that stands to-day "in a neglected weedy open," The Church at Old Town just as it is described in "Ramona." One change has come since Mrs. Jackson's day that rejoices the heart of every friend of the devoted Father. For nearly forty-five years the "just begun walls of a fine brick church" had stood on the principal street of the old town, which it had been the dream and pride of his heart to see builded and full of worshippers. "To build a church on the ground where Father Junipero first trod and labored, would be a work to which no Catlv olic could be indifferent; but there were other and more pressing claims to be met first. This was right. Yet the sight of these silent walls only a few feet high was a sore one to Father Gaspara, — a daily cross which he did not find grow lighter as he paced up and down his veranda, year in and year out, in the balmy winter and cool summer of that magic climate." The corner stone had been laid on the 16th of July, 1869, on the one hundredth anniversary of the first re- ligious services held in San Diego. Last May the corner-stone was relaid in the presence of a reverant assem- bly, many of whom had attended the solemn service forty-five years before; and today a beautiful new church marks the spot consecrated by the de- voted service of two of the most heroic figures in American Church history. In 1882, there were many Indians living in the immediate vicinity of San Diego. Within the city limits were several Indian camps, or rancher ias, which Mrs. Jackson visited; and she frequently attended sessions of court where Indian offenders were tried. Mrs. Mariette M. Gregory, who is still living in San Diego, was her inter- preter on these occasions. Mrs. Jackson next turned her atten-\ tion to the outlying valleys. She visit- ed Mesa Grande, Pala, Temecula, Pachanga, and San Jacinto, in the late fall of 1881, remaining in each place several days, everywhere gathering the material that later she used so effectively in her great romance. She remained longest at the Wolf Hotel and store in Temechula, where Mrs. Wolf,— the Mrs. Jim Hartsel of Ramona, — told her the story of the | eviction of the Temecula Indians, and of her own sympathy and grief for the stricken people. The little grave- yard, a few rods from the Wolf home, touched her deeply. To this visit Mrs. Jackson owed more than the casual reader will ever realize. It doubtless gave the name to the book, for the kindly, sympathetic Ramona Wolf, in her simple recital of the pathetic incidents connected with the removal of her friends and neighbors from their homes, stirred Mrs. Jackson more than any other account of Indian wrongs, and gave her the material for one of the most touching chapters in her book and possibly the inspiration for the book itself. Wolf's (Hansel's) at Temccula ;Ip/ San Jacinto, she heard from 'Mary 1 Sheriff, the teacher of the gov- ernment school at Saboba, the story t of the killing of Juan Diego, the "locoed" Indian of the San Jacinto mountains. The account of the mur- . der as given in Ramona, is substantial- ly correct, and the trial of Sam Temple (Jim Farrar) was often talked of in San Jacinto. Sentiment as to the guilt / of a white man that had shot an Indian that was in possession of a horse not his own was divided. But there was only one opinion as to the brutal character of Sam Temple and the dislike that his neighbors felt for him. She visited the school and talked with the children, many of whom long recalled her gracious presence. She said that she found that "these children read as well as average white children of their age, and in manners and in apparant interest in their studies were far above the average children in the public schools/' At her re- quest, one of the pupils, jose Castillo, wrote a letter to the Secretary of the Interior on behalf of his people, that she describes as "touching in its simple dignity." Mrs. Jordan, with whom Mrs Jackson stopped on this visit, be- came the Aunt Ri of Ramona. Every article published in the Cen- tury during 1881 and 1882 recalles some trip that she made from San Diego, and reveals some new token of her industry and zeal. At length the authorities at Washington were ar- y roused, and in July, 1882, she was ap- pointed by the government as one of two commissioners, — Abbott Kinney being the other, — to report upon the condition and needs of the Mission Indians in California. This report, to . which Mrs. Jackson's name is signed, ' is dated Cq?ojteido Springs, July 13th, 1883, and is a thoroughly business-like document of thirty pages. In the pre- paration of this report she visited nearly every tribe in Southern Cali- fornia, again going over the ground of the previous year, and her report was commented upon as being "as clear, practical and sensible as if it had been written by the most prosaic of man- kind." This document has been printed as an appendix to all later edi- tions of "The Century of Dishonor," and contains a report of fourteen tribes, all but one of which were liv- ing within the limits of San Diego County. These tribes comprised sev- eral thousand individuals, nearly all of whom had come directly or indirectly under the influence of the Church. Mrs. Jackson says that from the ( time that she began to be interested in Indians, she had an ambiton "to write a story that should 'tell' on the Indian question." At first she knew that she could not do it; she had no back- ground, no local color. But during her first few months in Southern Cal- j ifornia, while making investigations for her articles in the " Century/ 'and later for her report to the government, she began to realize that she had this coloring. Here the scene should be laid. "The old Mexican life mixed I with just enough Indian to enable me to tell what happened to them." I wonder if the ordinary reader ever realizes that there is only one real Indian character in the entire book, her hero, Alessandro. But she has certainly made clear "what happen- ed" to the bands of Mission Indians whose history and sorrows were the one theme of her story. All the material was at her hand. She had the stories, she had the atmosphere; and Southern California scenery and life not only became the natural home of her people, but had a marked influence upon the lives that she portrayed. In "Ramona" we appreciate the value of a setting of strong contrasts, brilliant coloring and a free out door life. The book pre- sents a series of pictures of the beau- ties of a land that the author knew and loved; the thicket of wild mustard through which Ramona went to meet the old priest, the picture that she made as she parted the delicate branch- es, standing with her face "set in a swaying frame of the golden blos- soms" appeal strongly to one that has seen this plant in bloom in Southern California. The brilliant sunrises, the clear hot noondays and the quickly falling night are described again and again with ever changing word pic- tures that never grow wearisome. The beauty and softness of the flowers and verdure of early spring, the yellow of ripened grain and the dull autumn tints, in a California landscape before the rains come, appealed to her artistic nature and gave a setting for a story that is as remarkable for its illuminating and satisfying, pictures of nature as for its realistic deliniation of character. And the lives of the people harmonize with the sharp outlines of the brown hills, the brilliant sunshine and the clearly marked shadows of our own San Diego County. For a few weeks after the govern' ment report had been sent to press, she thought earnestly over the story that she was to write. All the mate- rial was at hand; she had the inci- dents; she knew her country well. All - that was wanting was a plot. In a letter written during the latter part of February 1884, to a friend, she says that one morning in the preceding October, while at her home in Colorado Springs, the entire plot, just as it was later written down, flashed into her mind. She wrote the first word December 1st. 1883, and from that time until the story was finished, she wrote with the greatest rapidity, often from two to three thousand words a day. She said the entire story i seemed to be "at her finger ends/' "Ramona" was first printed in "The Christian Union/' appearing in book form in the latter part of 1884. Her friends told her that it was the best thing she had written, but she herself was at times doubtful. In one of her letters she says, "I can't believe it is as good as they think. I am uneasy about it." But she lived long enough to know that she had not only written a book that would "tell" for the help- less people in whose defense she wrote, but one that placed her among the great novelists of her generation. She herself valued "Ramona" and "A Century of Dishonor," above all her other books. Her life work as she viewed it at the end, had found ex- pression in what she had done and in what she had tried to do in behalf of the Indians. In June 1884, she was back in Colorado, busy in renovating her home and looking forward to a de- lightful summer with friends, when, on the evening of June 28th., she fell from the top to the bottom of the stairs and broke her leg. The injury was a serious one and the inactivity wore on her. Although she was busy with plans for a new story, she felt that she could not endure another winter in New York. She longed for the sunshine and outdoor life of the South. She wrote to Mrs. Whipple in San Diego, "the only place in all California where there was real comfort; and I like the San Diego climate best/' But Mrs. Whipple had moved to Los Angeles. In a letter a little later she writes; "why cannot the people that I want to be with and the place to which I want to go be together?" The refusal of the Railway Company to repair for the second time the road through Temecula Canon, washed out during the rainy winter of 1883 and 1884, distressed her greatly. She writes; "What will become of San Diego? Poor little San Diego!" She was brought to Los Angeles in November. Very soon after her arrival symptoms of the disease that was to end her life began to appear and in March she went on her 'last shred of nerve force" to San Francisco for better medical advice. Through the last months of suffering she longed for San Diego and for her friends in the South. She wrote, "It's all right, only if 1 had been asked to choose the one city of all I know in which I would have most disliked to be slain, it would have been San Francisco/' Five days before her death, she wrote her last poem ending with the following stanza: '"Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art, I shall be free when thou art through, Take all there is— take hand and heart, There must be somewhere work to do/' And in a prayer which bears the date August 8th, 18^5, she writes: "In outskirts of thy kingdom vast, Father, the humblest spot give me; Set me the lowliest task thou hast, Let me, repentant, work for thee." And thus passed, on August 12th, 1885, i the woman that wrote "Ramona," the Idyl of Southern California. TO Main Library • 198 Main Stacks LOAN PERIOD 1 HOME USE 2 3 4 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS. Renewls and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. 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