Remember the Alamo! (and Mission Granaries)

Later in our cross-country road trip this summer, we found ourselves in San Antonio, TX. Beginning in 1718, Franciscan missionaries from New Spain established a cluster of five mission communities among the indigenous Coahuiltecan peoples who lived along the headwaters of the San Antonio River in present Texas. Their efforts were encouraged by colonial Spanish authorities who sought to secure the northern frontier from the influence of French Louisiana. The area’s first of five missions, San Antonio de Valero (more popularly known later as The Alamo), was built at its present location from 1724 to 1727 and consisted of a walled enclosure with church, residences, and granary surrounded by ranches and cropland watered by a carefully constructed acequia (irrigation canal).

Mission San Jose; San Antonio, Texas

Mission San Jose Granary and Original Granary Doors

Mission San Antonio’s granary was one of several substantial rooms located in the northern portion of the spacious convento (later known as the Long Barracks after Mexican forces occupied the location in the 1820s) and is the state’s oldest extant structure. The Franciscans also established Mission San José y San Miguel de Aquayo several miles downstream from Mission San Antonio and built an enormous granary (c. 1747-1752) with vaulted ceiling and flying buttresses to support the thick stone walls that safeguard the annual harvests of wheat, corn, and vegetables. The mission’s nearby acequia-powered grist mill (molino) with horizontal wheel, constructed c. 1794 (rebuilt in 1930) was the region’s first mill. Covering the largest area of the San Antonio River missions, San José became known as “Queen of the Missions” for the church’s resplendent Spanish Baroque architecture and substantial plaza.

Missions San Juan Capistrano and San Francisco de la Espada were founded in 1731 on opposite sides of the river several miles south of Mission San José. Mission San Juan’s granary was completed by 1756 and rebuilt in 1824 on its original foundation as the mission church which functions to the present day. The imposing structure was painted by German-American landscapist Hermann Lungwitz (1813-1891) who studied at the Dresden Academy of Fine Arts before immigrating to the United States in 1850. Lungwitz became known for his many detailed, luminous renderings of Texas Hill Country farms and ranches. Mission Espada’s c. 1762 stone granary was also used as a church in the 1770s and a new storehouse erected on the southwest side of the compound in 1773 to secure the harvests of grain, vegetables, and fruit. The Espada Acequia still carries water to area farmlands and is the oldest feature of its kind in the country.

From Colonial America To El Camino Real — The Great American Heritage Grains Adventure (Part 4)

This blog is the final installment of a series on my (Richard's) recent trip across the country visiting important sites related to heritage and landrace grain studies. View the previous posts here.

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Cabizon Cultural Museum, Indio, California

Judy Stapp, Director

The Garden Oasis Of Mara, Joshua National Monument, Twenty-Nine Palms

John Legniole, Keeper

Oasis of Mara Scythe

My incredibly gracious hosts and longtime friends, Cliffand Lee Ann Trafzer of Yucaipa, California, generously provided lodging for me during my week in the Los Angeles area so I could further my research on landrace grain varieties of the American West. Cliff and Lee Ann are both noted professors of history, and our friendship goes back to the 1970s when Cliff taught at Washington State University where we began a close friendship that has long endured and led to collaborations on many publishing projects. Lee Ann is an author in her own right, and by some coincidence we learned when she was also studying at WSU back in the day that has many mutual friends and relatives from Brewster, Washington, where she had lived for many years.

Cliff serves a Rupert Costo Endowed Chair of History at UC-Riverside and arranged for me to lecture there on environmental sustainability. Cliff is a prolific writer with the heart of a humanitarian, and he introduced me to an impressive group of graduate students who included Cahuilla tribal elder Sean Milanovich. What Cliff and Sean proceeded to share with me about early Southwestern agriculture was fascinating. I learned that early grain culture spread from 17th century Mexico to the native peoples of the Southwest where some like Cahuilla of present south central California had long gathered grain-like seeds of indigenous plants. Cahuilla elder Francisco Patencio (1857-1947) explained the appearance of the first wheat through the ancient tribal story in which benevolent Cahuilla Creator Múkat fell victim to a conspiracy of the people and animals he had fashioned. The people mourned his loss, and in the place where Múkat died and was cremated in Painted Canyon near Palm Springs, they noticed a variety of nutritious plants emerge from the ashes of his heart, teeth, hair, and other remains. “The first name that they had was the beans, which were the fingers of Múkat,” Patencio related. “These were named Ta va my lum. The corn was named Pa ha vosh lum and the wheat was named Pach che sal and the pumpkins were neh wit em, ….” Soon afterward Múkat returned to earth as a spirit. The following day Cliff took me on an extensive tour east of Riverside to tour the Cahuilla’s legendary Garden of Mara, a place know widely from the tragic story of Willie Boy, Joshua Tree National Monument, and the Painted Rocks area associated with the Múkat story.

Garden of Mara Keeper John (left) and Author-Scholar-Friend Cliff Trafzer

Cliff is of Wyandot Indian heritage and was raised in the Yuma area so also had much to share with me about the early grain culture of the Pima and Papago peoples of the Gila River basin. By the mid-1800s Pima growers substantially supplied wheat to private teamsters for trade along the Overland Mail Route. These grains contributed to nutritious piñole and other staple soup mixtures of grain, corn, and beans. Some of the earliest California missions developed substantial grain farming and milling operations including places I had been like San Carlos Borroméo de Carmel (1770) and San Antonio du Padua (1771), founded on the fertile lowlands to the south near present Jolon, and San Gabriel Arcángel near present Los Angeles. By the early 1800s San Gabriel, Santa Inéz, and La Purísima led the California missions in production of wheat and barley and helped provision other missions along the El Camino Real. The 1806 stone foundations of San Antonio du Padua’s reconstructed grain mill remain intact, and a stone circular stone-lined threshing floor remains remarkably preserved and is likely the oldest known feature of its kind in North America. German-born artist Edward Visher (1809-1870) included these missions in his collection of twenty-six drawings and pen washes, The Missions of Upper California (1872).

Colored lithograph after Edward Vischer, “Mission San Antonio du Padua”; The Missions of Upper California (1872)

Mission Mortars and Pestles

The Alta California missions produced substantial amounts of grain and vegetables and raised considerable livestock. An 1850 sketch by frontier artist William H. Dougal (1822-1895) of the San Mateo Rancho granary near the San Juan Bautista Mission shows one side of the wide two-story structure with six doorways and five high windows near the eaves. The oldest extant one in North America is believed to be the Mission San Jose Granary (c. 1726) near San Antonio, Texas, which is a massive barrel-vaulted stone structure with flying buttress supports. Wheat production was especially notable at San Gabriel, Santa Inéz, La Purísima, and San Luis Obispo where at least 150,000 bushels raised at each location from the 1780s until secularization in the 1830s. Mission granary foundations have been located at Mission San Antonio de Padua, La Purísima, and Nuestra Señora de al Soledad. I had read somewhere that the latter, located a few miles west of Highway 101 near Soledad, was among the least restored of the El Camino missions so had not intended to stop there until I found out later its namesake was Mary’s sorrow between the time of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. Since I was traveling by on that Saturday I made a pilgrimage to that quiet place which gave some consolation since I had never spent an Easter apart from the family. 

The Huntington Library and Gallery, San Marino, California

Rivera Library, University of California, Riverside

Huntington Library Interior

Lois and I had visited the Huntington Library and Gallery in 1974 when we lived in Monterey, but in those days I was more interested in Western history than European art. So I spent most of the time back then reading through old records of Northwest military posts without much luck without finding much that was useful while Lois had more sense and strolled through the galleries and beautiful grounds. We had no idea that California’s oldest grist mill—El Molino Viejo (c. 1816), was located just a short walk from the library. It has been nicely restored so my recent journey included a visit there to learn more about the story of early Southwest grains and milling. El Molino is officially closed on Mondays—the day I went, but I pled my case of having come so far to a kindly grounds-worker who let me take a look inside. Back at the Huntington I visited the gallery building that was constructed as a grand villa of 55,000 square feet for the family of railroad magnate Henry Huntington and was completed in 1911. A year after his death in 1927, the house was opened to the public for tours of the magnificent rooms, library, and art gallery with such treasures as Gainsborough’s Blue Boy and Thomas Lawrence’s Pinkie. What I didn’t expect to find was a masterpiece by French artist Jules Breton, The Last Gleanings (1895), the subject of recent writing I had been doing for a manuscript tentatively titled “Hallowed Harvests” about agrarian themes in art and literature.

El Molino Viejo Entry

Nineteenth century France presented the growing contrast between landlord plenty and tenant suffering as the enclosure movement displaced the landless. The trend restricted access to fields and forests traditionally held in common to provide grain for bread, barley and beans for soupe, berries, chestnuts, and other traditional peasant staples. To be sure, the demise of the open-field (“champion”) system occurred to varying degrees throughout Europe due to geographic diversity and social-political circumstances, but brought similar social pressures with changes to land tenure. Across the richer soils of France’s northern plains, for example, open-field access known artists and authors of the time endured well into the nineteenth century as the old village communes could maintain economic viability on smaller plots of fertile allotted lands. The lighter soils of the south required substantially larger acreages which led to consolidation of holdings by fewer residents and erosion of agrarian collectives. More steeply rolling districts in the west like Brittany, Maine, and Vendée facilitated enclosure as farmers demarcated their fields with rows of the native hedge, shrubs, and trees.

Standing next to Breton’s The Last Gleanings (1895); Huntington Gallery, San Marino, California

The art of French artist Jules Breton (1827-1906), who I discussed in an early blog in this series, spurred emergence of a new European Realism. He and others elevated the virtues of country life in new ways through more refined interpretations of agrarian workers and thriving community. Principal themes included rural festivals and depictions of the noble, longsuffering strength of peasants—often women and children clad in ragged clothes tending to field labors, and visually document the laborers’ dress, tools, and toil. But the artists’ rustic colors, backgrounds, and resilient expressions of their characters honor creation’s bounty above arduous service. They struggled to interpret the continent’s shifting values in the face of industrial displacement of common folks whose humility, hard work, and happiness had long impressed them.

Breton was raised in rural Artois village of Courrières and his The Life of an Artist: Autobiography (1890) contains numerous descriptions of places and agrarian experiences that influenced his art including lines about inspiration for his first rendering of The Gleaners in 1854: 

The bending wheat sprinkled me with dew as I walked along the narrow foot-path. Among the mists the willows dropped their tears, while their gray tops caught the light overhead. Then I re-entered the village, now all bright and awake, where rose, at times, with the blue wreaths of smoke from the chimneys, the sweet, monotonous songs of the young embroiderers.

I returned to the fields to look at the gleaners. There yonder, defined against the sky, was the busy flock, overtopped by the guard. I watched them as they worked, now running in joyous bands carrying sheaves of golden grain; now bending over the stubble, closely crowded together. When I went among them they stopped their work to look at me, smiling and confused, in the graceful freedom of their scanty and ill-assorted garments.

…I loved the simple beauty of my native place, that offered itself to me, as Ruth offered herself to Boaz.

Breton’s paintings also exhibit remarkable depth of field and suffused light of dawn and dusk—his “magic hours” of luminous high summer beauty, that engender intimacy with his rural subjects. Other works depict peasant life throughout the year, but among the most notable are others showing summer labors—Return of the Reapers (1854), The Harvesters (1867), and luminous The Last Gleanings (1895). The latter shows three sheaf-bearing peasants—young, middle-aged, and elderly, returning together from the field at day’s end as if a metaphor for the passage of time and life’s simple blessings. 

Ceres with Grain Cluster Diadem, Huntington Library