Art and exploration in California, 1791-1827

Magazine Antiques, April, 1999 by Claire Perry

In addition to his depiction of the Californios who populated the lands adjoining mission settlements, Smyth made several specific studies of missions and the Indian neophytes who lived in them under the direction of the Franciscans. One of the artists more polished studies of this genre, shown in Plate XIII, conveys an idea of the generally peaceful and well-ordered state of the establishments. The baroque facade of Mission San Carlos Borromeo, which appears to be newly painted, had adjoining structures that spread out toward the indigo waters of Monterey Bay. On a road at the entrance to the mission Smyth included a pair of Indian neophytes whose composed appearance points to the effective instruction of their Spanish tutors, as well as to the well-being of others like them within. Significantly, the Indians are unsupervised - at liberty to return to the hills where their "untamed" relatives reside. Nevertheless, like sentinels, they wait on the path set out for them by the padres, apparently content to accept the guidance of Europeans, who are represented by the pearly whiteness of the church that seems to float above their heads.

Certainly, Smyth claimed a certain amount of artistic license when creating his view of the mission. The orderly serenity of the scene at Carmel was contradicted by Beechey who visited several missions during the sojourn of the Blossom in California. Relating his impressions of the Mission of San Francisco he wrote, "the remaining inmates of the missions were in as miserable a condition as it was possible to conceive, and were entirely regardless of their own comfort."(9) He also reported that a large number of the converts in missions across the region had died of smallpox and dysentery, reducing the population "with an unsparing hand."(10)

A lithograph made after one of Smyth's sketches describes the remedy that Indians in California used to treat any son of illness [ILLUSTRATION FOR FIGURE 7 OMITTED]. If Beechey's observations are correct, the sweat bath would have been in constant use at mission settlements. Smyth presents a group of Indians relaxing before a fire in a broad-roofed hut. Like a premonition of those who would survive the various plagues brought on by contact with the outside world and those who would not, some of the bathers' bodies are illuminated by the light of the fire, while others are cast into shadow. It is unlikely that Smyth, although he saw first hand the precarious condition of indigenous people in California, was making any sort of commentary with his haunting, otherworldly portrayal of the place where native inhabitants went to try to sweat out their fevers. In the context of what we know today about the devastating effects of Old World diseases on the Indian population in California, however, the vision of the ghostly sweat bath takes on a deep significance.

By the 1830s European governments no longer needed to organize costly expeditions to learn about California and other Pacific territories. California's harbors were filled with trading ships from across the globe, providing a steady stream of information that inevitably found its way back to the capitals of Europe and to the eastern seaboard of the United States. Still, despite the increase in visitors, only a handful of trained artists traveled to California during those years. The region's vast mountain ranges, its broad central valley, and the great stands of timber in the north remained largely unknown to viewers. It was not until 1848, when gold was discovered in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, that significant numbers of artists were willing to endure the arduous voyage to the land at the end of the continent.