While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
November 6, 1813, a Congress that had
been called together by José Maria Morelos y
Pavon declared the Independence of Mexico
from Spain; but it was not until February
19, 1823, that the patriots were able to
make good their freedom. During these ten
years there was trouble and confusion
throughout Mexico. Nothing could have been
more pleasing to the amiable Apache. It was
his gentle task to compound trouble and make
"confusion worse confounded."
During this turbulent transition period from
Spanish Royal Dominion to Mexican
Independence, the frontier military defenses
were sadly weakened. The garrisons were
neglected and the whole military
organization was disintegrating. There were
continual changes of military as well as
civil officers, and the result was hopeless
confusion and inefficiency. Some of the
presidios were depleted in numbers; the
soldiers were unpaid and most of them had
lost all hope of receiving the back pay due
them. This neglect was chiefly chargeable,
of course, to lack of funds; though it was
not so much lack of money as
misappropriation of the money supplied for
military purposes that did the mischief. The
shell of the presidio system was kept
intact, however, and as an offset to the
diminishing number of troops, local guards
were enlisted. But these men were not
supplied with firearms and were little
skilled in the use of bow and arrow. The
Indians were quick to see the crumbling of
all effective military resistance and their
attacks grew bolder and more frequent.
Sonora suffered severely from Apache raids
in 1813. Troops under Captain Narvona made
retaliatory campaigns and claimed to have
meted out severe punishment, but results
were anything but convincing. The fact is,
the Mexicans were in such mortal fear of
their tormentors and so desirous of getting
rid of them that they showed undue eagerness
to make terms with them. Nothing could have
been more injurious to the ultimate peace
and welfare of the country than this spirit
of abject weakness on the part of both
military and civil officers; for, in
proportion as the astute foe saw that he was
dreaded, he grew bolder and more insolent.
For example, in 1817, a famous chief,
Chiquito, was taken captive. The governor of
the province treated him with great
deference; and when other chiefs came
seeking terms of peace, he freed Chiquito.
Thereupon, Chiquito and the other chiefs
repaid this courtesy by murdering the guard
and running away with some good Spanish
weapons.
The Apache strategy was incomparably
effective. When a raid was to be made, a few
warriors would be left behind to guard the
camp and the women and children, while a
large force, consisting sometimes of several
hundred, would approach within striking
distance of the community they intended to
raid. They would then divide up into bands,
having first agreed upon a place where they
would all come together again upon the
completion of their devilish work. By
scattering out thus in small parties, they
were able to keep the whole region
distracted, the soldiers and settlers not
knowing where to attack or whom to pursue,
the various bands meanwhile picking up booty
and driving off animals everywhere. When the
stock was once on the run, the Indians would
break up into still smaller parties, so that
if some were followed so hotly that they had
to abandon their herds, others would be sure
to get away with the stock. In case the
Spanish attacked in force, a swift-riding
rear guard would be left to hold off the
enemy or to mislead them in their pursuit.
Sometimes a number of the bands would
reunite, make a stubborn stand, and hold off
the pursuers until their comrades had a safe
lead with their stampeded cattle. After the
raid, all the bands and detachments would
meet at the preappointed rendezvous, divide
the booty, and hold high carnival, feasting,
dancing, and rejoicing. Mexican women and
children were often captured and adopted
into the tribe. The boys as they grew up
were trained in the arts of Apache warfare.
It was a rare thing for the Apaches to
engage in open battle, though they did
sometimes risk it; and it must be said that
on such occasions they were able to give as
good an account of themselves as did either
American or Mexican troops, and they always
won the respect, if not the approval, of
their foes. Captain Zebulon Pike reports the
conversation of a brave New Mexican officer,
Malgares, who escorted him from Santa Fe to
Chihuahua. He had had many encounters with
the Apaches and was well able to discuss
their methods of warfare. On one occasion
when he was on a march with a hundred and
forty men, he was attacked by a band of
Apaches, both horse and foot, and a battle
of four hours ensued. Whenever the dragoons
would make a general charge, the Apache
cavalry would retire behind the infantry,
while the infantry would send a shower of
arrows against the Spaniards, and then
retreat. Malgares dedared that "it was not
to be thought of that the Spanish cavalry
could break the Apache infantry."
Gálvez had initiated a policy warmly
approved by both settlers and soldiers, of
sending out reconnoitering parties once a
month and of habitual readiness for instant
attack, but in Mexican times both of these
vital precautions had been abandoned.
Discipline in the presidios, too, had almost
to exist. Then, too, long before the
American war with Mexico, the Apaches had
been able to arm themselves with modern
weapons purchased from American traders and
taken from victims slain in battle. Indeed,
they were better marksmen with firearms than
were the Mexicans. Taking into account all
the points of superiority on the part of the
Apache warriors, it is easy to understand
the pitiful state of suffering, terror, and
desolation that hung like a nightmare over
the Mexican population of the northern
frontier.
In Chihuahua in 1831 them was a renewed and
violent Apache outbreak. The immediate cause
was the failure on the part of the Mexicans
to provide the Indians with the accustomed
allowances and rations. Prompt efforts were
made to repress and punish the savages and
troops were sent out against them. But, as
usual, the military demonstrations were
weak, and when the shrewd troublemakers, in
1832, again offered to come to terms, the
overture was acceded to with unseemly haste
and timidity. The malefactors were able to
dictate, practically, the terms of
surrender. Then, almost at once, they
continued their raids, and with such vigor
and daring that the capital of the province
was in danger of being captured and
destroyed.
The renewed hostilities soon extended into
Sonora. The Apaches along the Gila River and
in the mountains to the southward took
advantage of the revolt among the Yaquis,
Opatas, and Seris to descend upon Sonora.
The northern part of the province was laid
waste and almost depopulated. Mines,
missions, and ranchos were abandoned. The
raids extended as far south as Hermosillo
and Arispe. At least one hundred ranchos and
towns were deserted by the Mexicans, and it
was not until Arispe was threatened that the
general populace and the sluggish government
at last rallied in an effort to check and
drive out the invaders. Special rewards were
offered for volunteers; the border provinces
formed an alliance; and in 1834 some
encouraging victories were won and a famous
Apache chief was caught and executed. But
this spasm of valor soon spent itself, so
far as the military was concerned, and the
Commandante now made the usual futile
attempt to make terms with the savages. The
civilians, however, repudiated such a
proposal. The Governor declared that the
military might again make peace treaties if
they saw fit; but that as for the citizens,
they proposed to carry on a war of
extermination against every Apache in arms.
This was all in the spirit of noble and
righteous indignation. The legislature
approved the Governor's stand, and voted to
carry on the campaign to the bitter end. The
war went on, therefore, for a year longer to
the advantage of the aroused citizens. But,
alas, in the summer of 1836, the fever of
rage and determination again died out, peace
terms were again agreed upon, and the
savages had a welcome breathing spell before
renewing their ravages all along the line,
for it never entered into the minds of the
Apaches to keep a truce longer than was
"necessary for the disposal of their
plunder. As soon as more mules were needed
for service or for traffic-more cattle for
beef--more scalps for the war-dance--they
would invariably return to their deeds of
ravage and murder." 1
The blame for this ever-continuing orgy of
murder and destruction must, of course, be
laid at the door of the Mexican Government,
both local and central. Foresight, and
determined cooperation on the part of the
exposed provinces and the central
government, might at any time have proved
successful in holding the savages in check,
if not in their complete suppression; but
the ruling powers never actively bestirred
themselves until some supreme emergency
arose; and, always, as soon as the urgent
danger was abated, they relapsed into
neglect and inactivity. Not only was the
central government weak and careless as to
the havoc wrought on its frontiers; the
frontier provinces themselves failed to
cooperate in a sensible and honorable way.
One province would shamelessly secure peace
by some bargain with the enemy, and
immediately the wily beneficiaries would
transfer their operations to another
province. Says Josiah Gregg in Commerce of
the Prairies: "Such is the imbecility of the
local governments that the savages, in order
to dispose of their stolen property without
even a shadow of molestation, frequently
enter into partial treaties of peace with a
department, while they continue to wage a
war of extermination against the neighboring
states. This arrangement supplies them with
an ever-ready market for the disposal of
their booty and the purchase of munitions
wherewith to prosecute their work of
destruction."
Such a truce was made at Janos, in
Chihuahua, in 1842. J ohn C. Cremony, in
Life among the Apaches, shows the concrete
effects of such dealings in a quotation from
General Carasco, Military Governor of
Sonora, with whom Cremony conversed at
Frontéras in 1850.
"There is a small town named Janos, in
Chihuahua, near the eastern boundary of
Sonora, where the Apaches have for several
years been received and provided with
rations by the Government of that State,
although the same Indians were at the time
in open war with the Mexicans of Sonora. Not
being able to comprehend the virtue of a
policy which feeds Indians in one State that
they might prey upon and destroy the
citizens of another, I concluded that my
duty was to destroy the enemy wherever I
could find him. Acting upon this decision, I
waited until the allotted time for the
Apaches to visit Janos to obtain their
regular quarterly rations, and, by forced
marches at night, succeeded in reaching the
place just as the carnival was at its
height. We killed a hundred and thirty and
took about ninety prisoners, principally
women and children. Col. Medina, commanding
the State of Chihuahua, was so enraged at my
action that he made formal complaint to the
Supreme Government, which, however, after
some unnecessary delay approved of my
course."
Indeed, according to Josiah Gregg, still
deeper iniquities may be laid at the door of
Mexican civil authorities of the forties. He
says that he himself saw a large party of
traders leave Santa Fe in 1840, provided
with implements of war and abundant supplies
of whisky to be traded to the Apaches for
mules and other plunder that they had stolen
from the settlers in the southern provinces.
"This traffic was not only tolerated but
openly encouraged by the civil authorities,
as the highest public functionaries were
interested in its success--the governor
himself not excepted."
Perhaps no border province suffered more
bitterly from Apache depredations than
Chihuahua. The whole country became almost
depopulated; the people took refuge in the
towns and cities. The savages became so
daring that they would appear in bands of
only three or four on the very outskirts of
the City of Chihuahua in open day, kill the
herders and field laborers, and drive off
herds of horses and mules unmolested. To be
sure, detachment of soldiers might later
give pursuit; but they were careful not to
begin the chase too soon or approach the
enemy too close. As a final and desperate
resort, the various states began to offer
bounties for the scalps of Apaches, both
male and female, young and old. The price
paid for a scalp was large--one hundred
dollars for the scalp of a male and fifty
dollars for that of a woman--so both settled
Indians and foreigners took up the gainful
occupation. One enterprising fellow named
James Kirker organized a company of two
hundred, made up of Americans, Shawnee
Indians, and Mexicans, to go out after
scalps. Kirker was a Scotchman--a trapper
who had been captured by the Apaches at one
time, and then had risen to a place of
leadership among them. When the Apaches
entrusted him with some booty that he was to
sell for them, he ran away and entered upon
the more agreeable employment of scalping
his former associates. Kirker was very
enterprising, and he brought in so many
heads that the government refused to pay the
full amount promised. The grisly business
had tended to check the raids, but when it
was abandoned the Apache onslaught was more
fierce than before. It must be said to the
credit of the Mexican Republic that the
scalp-hunting project was only in operation
a few weeks and that it never had the
official approval of the central government.
It was, however, strongly endorsed by many
of the leading citizens of Chihuahua.
Threat of American invasion from the north
in 1843 brought about almost instant
organized resistance on the part of the
Mexican people, such as generations of
bloody Apache incursions had never been able
to accomplish--the prompt strengthening of
frontier defenses, the enlistment of new
regiments, and the calling to arms of
thousands of volunteers. These attempts
proved to be as futile against the Americans
as former attempts against the Apaches--and
for a time as bloody. The presence of two
armies in northern Mexico did, it is true,
for a time relieve the citizens from the
marauding expeditions of their ancient foe.
However, by 1848, renewed irruptions on the
part of the Apaches became so fierce that
the central government felt obliged to
initiate some effective policy of
resistance. In July, 1848, a law was passed
providing for the establishment of eighteen
military colonies along the northern border.
It was hoped that these settlements would
both take the place of the old presidio
system and at the same time encourage the
growth of civilian communities on the
frontier. No great enthusiasm was shown for
this project and little came of it, for
funds were lacking to put it into successful
execution. And so three more years passed
with only slight beginnings in the work of
frontier settlement and defense. At about
the same time the central government also
named a committee of congressmen from the
region most afflicted by Apache hostilities,
and requested that they make recommendations
looking toward a more effective joint policy
for the protection of the frontier. No
concrete benefits seem to have resulted from
the deliberations of this committee.
As for Chihuahua and Durango, there was no
time for deliberation. They were being
robbed, murdered, and tortured once more by
their fiendish foes from the north. The
country was devastated and all but
depopulated. So, again, in desperation, they
turned to the policy of scalp hunting.
American hunters got two hundred dollars for
every scalp brought in. A live warrior
brought two hundred and fifty dollars. To
say nothing about the wisdom and humanity of
this practice, it failed to work out
successfully. Men who would hire themselves
out to decapitate Indians and bring in their
heads were not the sort of men it was a
pleasure to do business with. Though they
were sometimes paid in advance and provided
with arms, they were too often inactive just
at the time their services were most needed;
and, besides, it was safer and easier to
take the scalp of a tame Indian (or a
Mexican, even) than it was to capture or
scalp a wild warrior--and what officer was
wise enough to know in every case just what
sort of scalp it was that was turned in?
There was something to be said on the other
side, too; for the hunters were not always
sure of their pay.
During the closing months of the war between
Mexico and the United States, Sonora
suffered almost as much from Apache raids as
did Chihuahua. So distressing was the
situation by 1848 that the presidio of Tubac
had to be abandoned. The depopulation of
Sonora went on apace. In addition to the
hundreds of citizens who were killed or
driven off, Sonora lost heavily as a result
of the gold rush to California. She lost
many of her strongest and ablest citizens in
this way. Great caravans left Hermosillo for
the California gold fields in 1849 and 1850,
aggregating five or six thousand people.
A good illustration of the feeble and
dilatory manner in which the scheme for
military colonies along the border worked
out may be found in Sonora, which had been
granted five military colonies. The
designated locations were Tucson, Altar,
Frontéras, Santa Cruz, Bavispe. Frontéras
was the only one of these five settlements
to be fully established by 1850. Some
beginnings had been made at Santa Cruz--how
pitifully inadequate we may learn from the
reports of travelers such as Benjamin Hayes
and John R. Bartlett, who visited and
described Santa Cruz during the years 1849,
1850, and 1851. Nothing had been done at
Bavispe, Altar, and Tucson. The total armed
force in these towns amounted to only three
hundred and thirteen men. The state was
instructed to enlist and equip four
companies of mounted troops at federal
expense with fifty men and four officers in
each company. All told, there were in 1850
only about five hundred armed men and a
majority of this number were simply
colonists supplied with arms. The Apaches of
the Gila, with grim jocularity, viewed
Sonora "as their rancho and depot of
supplies."
In 1851 the enemy penetrated even as far
south as Mazatlan and devastated it. That
year in Sonora they killed two hundred
citizens and stole two thousand head of
stock, to say nothing of a wealth of other
plunder with which they enriched themselves.
Little damage was inflicted upon them by the
troops. In 1853 one hundred and seventy
settlers were killed. There was a slight
revival of effort on the part of the people
to protect themselves, but it was too weak
and unorganized to be of much use, and--as
always--temporary. The Apache death toll in
1860 was fifty, and in 1863 the invaders
almost reached the ancient and important
city of Ures in the central part of Sonora.
So alarming and desperate had the situation
now grown that the Government offered one
hundred dollars for every Apache scalp
turned in. As usual, money was a potent
incentive, and so great was the stimulus of
this cash offer that two hundred Apaches
were killed or captured. But the energy and
vindictiveness of the savages only grew more
terrible, and as their bloodthirstiness
increased, the price of a scalp went up to
three hundred dollars. Indian heads were
rarely brought in, but the slaughter of
whites by Indians went on steadily up to
1872. After the Mexican War and the Gadsden
Purchase, the Mexicans claimed that their
woes were due, not only to the slackness of
the United States in controlling their
Apache wards, but also to the work of
criminal Americans. Diaz in his day
strengthened the border defenses; Arizona
gradually became well populated; and at last
comparative safety came to the distressed
border people after their centuries of
suffering.
Bibliography
Bancroft H. H. A History of Arizona and
New Mexico. San Francisco, 1989.
Bancroft H. H. North Mexican States and
Texas. San Francisco.
Bartlett John R. Personal Narrative, Vol. I.
New York, Appleton, 1854.
Cremony John C. Life among the Apaches. San
Francisco, 1868.
Gregg Josiah. Commerce of the Prairies. New
York, Langley, 1845.
Hayes Benjamin. Diary of a Journey Overland
from Socorro to Warner's Ranch. Unpublished
manuscript. Berkeley, Bancroft Library,
1849.
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