Chapter Eight—
Of the Death of the Two Jesuit Fathers, Támaral and Carranco
Among people like the California Indians, and in a land like theirs, not many significant events occur which deserve to be recorded and made known to posterity. But God creates miracles wherever and whenever it pleases Him. Notwithstanding the small number of missionaries, it has been deemed wise to make known to the world some of those whose virtues deserve to be revealed. Even during these last years, there were those who abstained from wine, although they had the best that was grown in California, who rarely took off their cilicium and slept every night on the bare floor or on the altar steps, or those who for days and nights tended the sick in uncomfortable sick-houses, depriving themselves of their only bed and offering it to a sick person. Some even had
scruples about acquiring the necessary clothing and food for themselves for fear they might thereby deprive the poor Californians. Others, who never had a kitchen of their own, ate as their chief meal a thin piece of bone-dry meat warmed a little in the community copper kettle used for preparing Indian corn for the Indians.
Among the Indians there were also some who, after their conversion, led an edifying life, although those giving a bad example were much more numerous, nearly excluding the good. It could well be said of them, "Beatur vir, qui inventus este sine macula." (Blessed is he who lives among them without acquiring coarse vices and committing crimes.) Where is such a one that we may praise him? Together with their other vices, the Indians show lust for revenge and cruelty. Human life means little to them and they will kill for insignificant reasons, as during my time several persons, including the master of a small boat, had to learn. Because of a severe tongue lashing which this master had addressed to the natives, his skull was crushed with a heavy stone when he was eating his evening meal on land. Then, his little boat, loaded with provisions for two poor missions, was set adrift. One boy about sixteen years old was stabbed in the abdomen and hit over the head with a heavy club by another boy of about the same age. This premeditated and treacherous attack occurred at two o'clock in the afternoon on Ascension Day of the the year 1760, in full view of the whole community, and only a stone's throw from the church and the missionary's house. The murderer hoped to escape on a horse he had previously selected, and to find refuge in a church thirty hours away. He almost succeeded.
Up to 1750 many uprisings occurred in different parts of the country. Several missionaries were forced to abandon their missions at one time or another and find safety elsewhere. One cause of these revolts was the decline of the power and prestige of the sorcerers and conjurers, another that the natives were admonished to fulfill their promises made at the time of their baptism.
The greatest and most dangerous revolt occurred in the southernmost part of the peninsula and began in 1733 among the tribes called the Pericúes and the Córas. Both have a very proud and unruly nature, even to this day, as their last missionary, Ignatz Tirs, has experienced. In this year of 1733, four missions comprising several thousand Indians, three priests, and not more than six soldiers were established in that territory.
The missions were La Paz, or "Peace," with one soldier but no missionary in residence; Santa Rosa, with Father Sigismundo Táraval,[36] a Spaniard, but born in Italy, and three soldiers; Santiago with its missionary, Father Lorenzo Carranco,[37] a Mexican of Spanish parentage; and San José del Cabo, with just its missionary, Father Nicolás Támaral,[38] a Spaniard from Seville.
The causes of the uprising were, in part, as many Indians afterwards confessed without shyness, the unwillingness of the recently converted Californians to be married to only one woman, as was their obligation and as they had promised, and in part the dislike of being verbally reprimanded by the missionaries for transgressions they had committed.
The principal instigators and leaders who had secretly and quietly stirred up the people were named Boton and Chicóri. Their aim was to kill the three priests and to obliterate all signs and marks of Christianity, which the large majority of the natives had accepted ten years before. Thus they could return to a life of freedom and license without fear of opposition. The plot, however, was discovered before the fire burst forth into a blaze. To all appearances, it was smothered at the beginning of 1734 by a simulated peace offer on the part of the Indians. This peace, however, did not last long, for it lacked sincerity. Within a short time, the perjured rebel leaders tried anew to realize their aim at all costs; they carried out their plans the following October. Again they did not succeed completely, for Father Táraval found means to escape their hands.
The only obstacle which stood in their way was the force of six soldiers. When in October the natives found one of them of Mission Santa Rosa alone in the field, they treacherously murdered him. Then they sent a message to the mission, stating that the soldier was very ill and that either the priest should come and hear the sick man's confession or he should send the two remaining soldiers to carry their sick comrade back to the mission. Their intention was, of course, to murder the Father or the two others in the same manner. The messenger, however, executed his commission so badly that it was easy to guess what had already happened and what the rebels intended to do next. Consequently, neither the priest nor the soldiers did what was asked of them. A few days later the lone soldier who guarded Mission La Paz lost his life.
The news of the two murders and of further indubitable signs of an
approaching mutiny and general uprising in the south spread and soon reached the ears of the prefect of all the missions, who was at that time at Mission Siete Dolores, almost ninety hours away. Immediately he sent orders to the three priests whose lives were in danger: they should save themselves as best they could. The letters, however, fell into the hands of the rebels; but even if they had reached their destination, they would have arrived too late.
The conspirators planned to deliver the first blow against Mission San José del Cabo and Father Támaral, but they discovered that Father Carranco had already heard of their intentions. They quickly decided to turn against him and Mission Santiago before the priest would be able to escape or take precautionary measures. On a Saturday, the second of October, the rebels arrived there. The Father had just read the Holy Mass and retired to his room in order to finish his prayers without interruption. Unluckily his bodyguard of two men had left on horseback to fetch some cattle for the catechumen and other Indians. Soon after, the messengers who had just returned from San José del Cabo and Father Támaral, to whom they had carried the news of the revolt, entered the room. Father Carranco was just reading Father Támaral's reply to his message when the murderers rushed into the house and attacked him. Some of them threw him to the floor, they dragged him by the feet toward the entrance of the church, revealing thereby the reason for the revolt and subsequent manslaughter. Before they reached the church, however, Father Carranco's soul had been driven from his body, for some savages had pierced him with arrows, and others had hit him with stones and clubs.
Not very far away stood an innocent little California boy who used to serve the Father at table. When the monsters realized that the child wept for the man who had treated him like a father, one of the murderers grabbed him by his feet and smashed his head against the wall, shouting that, since he felt so much compassion, he should also serve him in the future and keep him company in the other world. As is customary with barbarians, there were some among the assassins whom the padre had considered his most loyal followers and in whom he had placed all his trust. After the murder, they tore his clothes from the body, and horribly abused the soulless corpse. Having satisfied their barbaric instincts, they threw the body on a burning pyre. Then they set
fire to the church and house, and burned everything they disliked—sacred as well as other vessels, the altar pictures of our Saviour and of the saints, all were reduced to ashes. Meanwhile those who had gone to bring back the cattle and the two unarmed soldiers returned. They were forced to dismount and slaughter the cows for the criminals, whereupon they were rewarded with a shower of arrows.
On the following day, Father Támaral met the same fortunate fate of martyrdom as Father Carranco at Mission San José del Cabo, twelve hours distant from Santiago. As soon as the criminals had cooled their wrath, which was directed more against the Christian religion than against its preachers, they marched from the one mission to the other. Father Támaral was in his house—untroubled, for he did not believe the warning of his neighbor—when the savage army, augmented by new recruits from among Father Támaral's own parishioners, appeared at the mission. As was customary, they demanded something or other (I do not know what) of the Father, with the intention of starting a quarrel should he deny the request. But from their gestures and the weapons they carried, the Father immediately guessed their true intentions. Therefore, he granted their requests and gave them even more than they had asked. The failure of their plan enraged them to such a degree that they put aside all shame and pretense. Without further delay, they seized the Father, threw him to the floor, dragged him under the open sky, and began to shoot arrows at him. One of them (who had just recently received a big knife as a present from the Father) added ingratitude to cruelty by mercilessly thrusting this same knife through the Father's body. Thus, after having spent many years in California, the two, Father Támaral and Father Carranco, ended their lives, slaughtered by their own sheep, after having proved themselves worthy of such an end by their blameless conduct and their great devotion.
The natives' savagery and lust for destruction of the priests, the church, and everything else went much farther and lasted longer in this place than at Santiago because the number of murderers and rebels was greater and because this was the second victory they had achieved.
One more priest was to be destroyed—the third and last one—but he escaped their hands. Father Sigismundo Táraval, missionary at Santa Rosa, was at that time in Todos Santos, an annex to his mission, on the
western shore of California and a two-day journey from San José. Through some Indians, he received the news of all that had happened just in time. Whether these natives informed him out of a natural love and sympathy for their pastor or whether not all of them had a part in the conspiracy, I do not know. He hurriedly packed a few necessary things, and on the night of October fourth, he and his two soldiers rode on horseback across the country to the other shore. Near Mission La Paz he embarked on the small craft which had been sent there as soon as the first rumors of the impending rebellion had been circulated. With God's help he luckily arrived at Siete Dolores, which at that time was built along the sea. He left behind four missions which had been completely destroyed and leveled to the ground in less than four days. Later, it cost much effort, blood, and many people to rebuild them and make them flourish again.
The rebels did not fare well and were not allowed much time in which to glory in the crimes they had committed. God and man made them pay dearly. These southern tribes, which numbered about four thousand souls at the beginning of the revolt, were finally reduced to four hundred. Wars fought against them by the California and foreign soldiers, internal dissension among the tribes themselves, and above all, ugly diseases and epidemics reduced them to this number. Even among these four hundred, there are today very few who are free from this general disease and who can boast of possessing a healthy body.
On the other hand, let us give a thousand thanks to God's kindness which has never failed to give to individuals among the Catholic priests, and particularly to members of the Society of Jesus, even in these days, the heart and courage to spread the Christian Faith without thinking of personal gain. These men expose themselves to deadly dangers among all kinds of barbarians and are willing to shed their blood when the opportunity for such a sacrifice arrives. These two California missionaries are by no means the only members of this Society who in this century have lost their lives while preaching the Gospel and converting the heathen.[39] Besides others whom I could name by the dozen, there were in 1751 two missionaries who lost their lives among the rebellious Pimas on the east coast of the California gulf. They were Father P. Tomás Tello,[40] a Spaniard, and Father Heinrich Ruhen,[41] a German Jesuit from Westphalia. The previous year (1750) I had traveled with the
latter across the ocean to America, and again on land to Pimería only six months before his death.