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STEVEN W. HACKEL

INTRODUCTION

his volume has its origins in historical documents and identity- changing interactions initiated two hundred and forty years ago Twith the establishment of Mission on July 16, 1769. On that day the inaugurated the first mission in what would eventually be a chain of missions that stretched from San Diego to just north of . More than a year and a half later, in the first months of 1771, the allowed the to baptize a few of their children at Mission San Diego.1 Most likely the first Indian bap- tized at San Diego was a three-year-old boy whom the padres named “Francisco Antonio”; he was the son of a village leader who himself would be baptized in 1771 or 1772 and named “Carlos.”2 In the eyes of the missionaries, baptism and the bestowal of a Spanish name signified an identity shift that began to transform an Indian into a Spaniard, a pagan into a Catholic. In keeping with Catholic practice, the names of these Kumeyaay and the sacraments they received would have been duly recorded by the Franciscans in the mission’s baptism register. The details of these first baptisms at San Diego and those of some five hundred other Kumeyaay are not known to us today in full because the register in which the padres recorded them was destroyed in 1775 when Carlos and Fran- cisco Antonio’s uncle, Francisco, led an attack that killed Father Luis Jayme and burned the mission to the ground.3 Soon after the attack, how- ever, the Franciscans painstakingly reconstructed the baptism register from memory in a volume that survives to this day. By the time missionaries began to recreate the baptism register of Mission San Diego, Franciscans had established four more missions in : San Carlos Borromeo (1770), de Padua (1771), San Gabriel Arcángel (1771), and San Luis Obispo (1772). In these early years, missionaries baptized more than one thousand Indians, believ- ing that they were cultivating in them the rudiments of a Spanish

1 2 Steven W. Hackel

Catholic identity. In the coming decades, the padres would establish six- teen more missions as well as a chapel at the of Santa Barbara and a church in the of . At all of these sites, just as at Mission San Diego, missionaries dutifully administered and meticulously recorded thousands of sacraments. In so doing, they contributed to a set of records that would encompass nearly the entirety of the region’s colo- nial population. While there is no countervailing set of records from In- dians describing colonial California,4 these baptism, marriage, and burial registers constitute an amazingly thorough record of the lives of the In- dians, soldiers, settlers, and missionaries of colonial California. And al- though there has been heated debate during the last two hundred and forty years over the goals, the morality, and the legacy of the mission en- terprise and its effects on California Indians, scholars have never doubted the importance of the sacramental registers to an understanding of the people of .5

California Mission Sacramental Registers California Franciscans, of course, created the sacramental registers for their own purposes, not those of future historians. During the early mod- ern period, the required all Catholic priests, including missionaries along the Spanish frontier of , to record in detail all of the sacraments they administered. This not only reduced the likelihood that missionaries would re-baptize an individual but also en- sured that they did not violate canonical guidelines that disallowed Catholic marriages between closely related individuals. The sacramental records also allowed the Franciscans to demonstrate to a cash-strapped and over -extended Spanish state a quantitative if not qualitative record of the advance of Catholicism in Alta California. Thus, when California missionaries baptized an individual—whether an Indian adult or a new- born Spanish child—they recorded that person’s given Spanish name, godparents, place of origin, age, parents, siblings, and, when applicable, the individual’s children and marital status, as well as any other family relations or facts that they considered relevant to that person’s identity. Furthermore, in California, as an aid to recordkeeping, missionaries assigned each baptism a unique number, beginning with the number one for the first baptism at each mission. Similarly, when they married or buried someone and performed the associated sacraments, missionar- ies recorded that individual’s Spanish name, age, marital status, place of baptism, family relations, and, when known, their baptism number and mission of baptism. Franciscans also assigned marriage and burial records unique numbers at each mission. Thus, at any given time, the Introduction 3

missionaries could determine how many baptisms, marriages, and buri- als they had performed at each mission. The padres also believed that these records gave them a clear way of identifying individual Indians within the growing ranks of neophytes at each mission.6 Remarkably—given the political instability of California as it shifted from Spanish to Mexican rule, and then to U.S. statehood—the baptism, marriage, and burial records for California’s twenty-one missions, the Santa Barbara presidio, and the Los Angeles Plaza church survive with but a few exceptions. Altogether, the sacramental registers from these sites contain records on more than 100,000 baptisms, 70,000 burials, and 28,000 marriages that the Franciscans administered between 1769 and 1850. Collectively, these mission registers contain not only much of the information necessary to reconstruct the lives of tens of thousands of Indians and settlers but also the raw materials for the discovery and writ- ing of larger and more intimate histories of colonial California. A prerequisite for these new histories was a workable system that would allow scholars to access the information in the sacramental regis- ters. Throughout much of the twentieth century, scholars skilled in read- ing eighteenth-century Spanish handwriting consulted mission records here and there as they sought to piece together the lives of notable Cali- fornians and the mission Indian communities of the region.7 Some, like genealogists Thomas Workman Temple and Marie E. Northrop, devoted decades to the careful study of mission records and the creation of ge- nealogies of the families of the “,”the non-Indian settlers of the region.8 In the 1960s and 1970s, scholars of California Indians turned to the sacramental records to examine Indian population decline.9 And in the 1980s and 1990s, a new generation of historians and anthropologists— emboldened by the power of the microprocessor and emerging database software—brought together a desire to document the tremendous diver- sity and depth of Indian life in early California with an interest in creat- ing data sets of linked records for individual missions and then clusters of related missions. These could shed light on events previously unseen by historians and perhaps even by historical actors themselves. In this re- gard, Randall T. Milliken, who works on the missions and Indians of , and John R. Johnson, who studies the missions and Indians of the Santa Barbara region, were pioneers.10 In the mid-1990s, after working on my own databases of the records of Missions San Carlos and San Gabriel, I became aware of the need for a comprehensive database that would bring together the sacramental records of all the missions into a uniform and integrated system. Such a database would include the records, not just of Indians or Californios, 4 Steven W. Hackel

A page from the Mission Santa Clara Book of Baptisms in which Fathers Tomás de la Peña, José Antonio Murguía, and Junípero Serra recorded baptisms. Tomás de la Peña records that Sebastian José, an Indian whom the Franciscans had baptized with- out the full ceremonies because they believed he was gravely ill, has now been given a complete baptism. José Murguía states that he has baptized the seven-day-old child of a soldier serving as a guard at the mission. And Junípero Serra writes that he has baptized two young boys from villages in the vicinity of Mission San Clara. Courtesy of Archives. Introduction 5

but of all the people of early California who came within the scope of the missions. Without this comprehensive and integrated database, it was impossible, many of us reasoned, to see the movements of Indians and settlers from one part of the to another or to grasp various so- cial processes and patterns of historical change that unfolded across all of the missions, , and of colonial California. The cre- ation of this comprehensive database required institutional support, as it was too vast an undertaking for one person or even a group of re- searchers. In 1998, just when this project was being conceptualized, Robert C. Ritchie, W. M. Keck Foundation Director of Research at the Henry E. Huntington Library, saw the importance of this endeavor. With his backing and the institutional support of the Huntington, the Early California Population Project (ECPP) was born.11 It would prove to be a Huntington-led collaborative project, one that would involve numerous scholars, a team of data-entry personnel, grants from a wide range of in- stitutions, and nearly a decade of work. Following the completion of an online version of this database in the summer of 2006 and its installation on the Huntington’s website, the project has been used by an increasingly wide range of scholars, genealogists, historians, teachers, Indian groups, and government agencies.12 All have profited from easy access to mission records like those initiated at San Diego so long ago that had remained beyond the reach and use of nearly everyone for centuries. The ECPP database presents a trove of data on individuals and fami- lies and on the social structure of the missions and pueblos. But above all, the mission sacramental records speak to a colonial world that was in mo- tion. Indians, soldiers, and settlers were moving from place to place, and the very institutions that had sustained Indian culture and society for cen- turies, if not millennia, as well as those that had promoted Spanish society and ’s colonization in the , were in flux. To study these mission records, therefore, is to gain insight into a world in which Indians moved from village to mission, from mission to mission, and often from mission to pueblo and presidio. The records reveal that soldiers and settlers were even more mobile than Indians, on account of the demands of mili- tary or settler life. One also sees not only the demographic collapse of In- dians and the expansion of Californio families but also the workings of Catholicism in the daily lives of early California residents and the bound- aries and contours of the emerging social, political, economic, and racial systems that structured the lives of Indians, soldiers, and settlers. In this crucible of change that was Alta California, individual and com- munity identities could not help but be transformed. It comes as no sur- prise, therefore, that when the Huntington convened a conference in the 6 Steven W. Hackel

fall of 2006 to celebrate the completion of the Early California Population Project, two overarching themes—motion and identity—emerged most forcefully in the scholarly papers that were presented. This volume, Alta California: Peoples in Motion, Identities in Formation, presents substan- tially revised essays from that conference. Collectively, the contributors seek a deeper comprehension of how missionaries, Indians, soldiers, and settlers understood themselves, how they pursued various roles and iden- tities, and, finally, how scholars of differing identities and backgrounds have studied and understood identity within the Spanish Borderlands.

Identity in Early California Until recently, the study of identity was not a preoccupation of historians of early California.13 The earliest scholarship on the region focused on Spanish missionaries and government officials who helped to create Cal- ifornia.14 In the first half of the twentieth century, scholars began to ex- amine the institutional foundations of California in work that focused most closely on Spanish missions and presidios. In the mid-twentieth cen- tury, anthropologists began to deepen their understanding of California’s Indian groups, and Catholic Church historians continued their work on the leading missionaries of colonial California.15 By the 1970s, historians and anthropologists began to work together in new ways to uncover how Indians responded to the growth and expansion of Spanish institutions in California. Most recently, scholars have begun to trace how the insti- tutions of Spanish California emerged out of broader currents of thought and ideologies central to colonial and early modern Spain.16 In this volume as well as in other recent scholarship, historians are moving beyond questions of how Europeans transplanted familiar insti- tutions to the New World and are exploring how Indians, Europeans, and Creoles lived and understood themselves within the colonial world. Schol- ars of early America beyond California have long been interested in iden- tity, and it seems fair to say that the publication in 1987 of a volume of essays, Colonial Identity in the , 1500–1800, edited by Nicholas Canny and Anthony Pagden, was a watershed event.17 As the first editors to gather essays on the creation of identity in the various re- gions of the Atlantic World, Canny and Pagden outlined a series of ques- tions that have dominated the field for a generation. The volume cohered around what the editors described as a need to shift from a focus on the relationship between the movements toward independence and the for- mation of a national identity to a study of the factors that encouraged “transplanted European communities to begin to think of themselves as Introduction 7

in some ways distinct and separate from the mother country.”18 A related approach, which focused on the emergence of Creole identity and colo- nial subjectivity, has been particularly important to scholars of colonial Spanish America.19 It continues to dominate the field and has recently caught the attention of literary scholars.20 This rich scholarship on colo- nial and Creole identity has recently been joined by an increasing num- ber of books and articles that examine how Indians maintained and transformed their own identities during the colonial period.21 In recent years, historians have also come to embrace the notion that individuals can have multiple identities and loyalties, depending on time, place, and context.22 More specific to the Spanish Borderlands, work is now emerging on the instability of political loyalty and the emergence of national identity across the Gulf Borderlands in the years of intense im- perial rivalry before, during, and after the .23 Schol- ars have also paid close attention to the conflicting identities among settlers during the first half of the nineteenth century in that were spawned by the U.S. economy and Spanish and Mexican systems of gov- ernance and patronage.24 Yet, as important as questions of Creole iden- tity, national loyalty, and U.S. economic expansion are to students of many regions of colonial America, the study of identity in colonial Cali- fornia carries its own particular insights and regional variations. For many reasons, social and political developments in colonial Cal- ifornia had their own trajectory, and thus so did the formation of indi- vidual and community identity in the region. European settlement of Alta California did not begin until 1769, long after much of North America had been colonized and settled by Europeans. Spain and then Mexico held sway in California, unchallenged in the absence of an imperial rival, until the Mexican-American War. And although scholars working on Spanish America have begun to devote attention to the intersection of race and identity,25 the varied and numerous categories of race and caste preva- lent in much of never fully materialized in Alta California dur- ing the colonial period.26 There were in fact very few people living in the province who had actually been born in Spain, and most soldiers, settlers, and Franciscans in California ignored the typical Spanish racial cat- egories so prevalent in central Mexico. Instead, they saw all the local In- dians as indios and identified themselves and their brethren as Californio, español, or gente de razón.27 A quick look at the database of the Early California Population Proj- ect shows how narrowly social, racial, and ethnic categories—and thus important aspects of individual and communal identity—were defined in 8 Steven W. Hackel

colonial California, at least by the Franciscans. In Alta California, mis- sionaries performed more than 100,000 baptisms, and about 15,000 of these were of non-Indians of various races and nationalities. In only about 5,271 of these records did the padres explicitly identify the race or ethnic- ity. Of these, they classified nearly all as gente de razón. Remarkably, the padres classified only fifteen children they baptized between 1769 and 1850 as español. Moreover, in the mission records, there are only sixteen instances when missionaries recorded newborns as , even though a minimum of 152 children were born in the missions to marriages that joined a gente de razón father and a California Indian mother. Thus the padres’ categories were not only few, they were also malleable. A similar simplification of racial categories in colonial California can be found in the relatively small number of matrimonial investigations that survive from the period. The padres performed and recorded these exam- inations for all marriages of non-Indians to determine whether the bride and groom were entering marriage of their own volition and whether any canonical impediments to the marriage existed. What seemed to matter most to the missionaries who wrote these reports was the groom’s occupation, the bride’s and groom’s places of residence, and whether or not the bride and groom were of legitimate birth. Racial and ethnic sta- tus seemed largely irrelevant to the padres, even in cases where the bride and groom were clearly mestizo. For example, in the matrimonial inves- tigation at of José Miguel Pico and María Casilda de la Cruz in 1794, the padres made no mention of Pico’s racial or ethnic status, even though in the census of 1790 his father is identified as mes- tizo, his mother Maria Jacinta as mulatta, and his brothers as .28 The fault line that divided Indians from others in Alta California was just one factor that influenced identity formation in the region. As the es- says in this volume suggest, while Spanish missionaries saw in Alta Cal- ifornia an opportunity to create a Catholic Church that was based on what they had known in Spain, most colonists crafted an evolving institutional, corporate, regional, or group identity, and they looked to family lineage and drew upon local circumstances for self-definition rather than the standards and cultural norms and institutions of the . In Alta California, as throughout most of the Spanish Borderlands, sol- diers’ and settlers’ identity-forming and -affirming decisions and affilia- tions were most likely also motivated by networks of kinship and a desire for economic well-being. For Indians, clearly, membership in a mission community was identity-changing, but Indians’ needs to find and pursue a strategy of survival and cultural continuity in the midst of change de- Introduction 9 termined where and how they found a place in the colonial world, and how they understood their place in it. r

In this volume, four separate sections take up various aspects of iden tity as it relates to early California and the study of the Spanish Borderlands. Part 1 explores the origins of the identities of California’s first missionaries and examines the development of Franciscan techniques as well as the lives of the leading Franciscans. Rose Marie Beebe and Robert M. Senkewicz argue that for Father Junípero Serra, California was a stage upon which he could act out an identity that “owed far more to the and central Mexico than to anything or anyone that actually existed in Alta California.” Thus, to Beebe and Senkewicz, Serra, a man of un- common education and accomplishment by the time he went to Alta Cal- ifornia, lived a life that was in many ways shaped more by his youth in the Old World than by his adulthood in New Spain. Because of his role estab- lishing the first missions in colonial California, his constant sparring with the region’s governors, and the movement within the Church to proclaim him a saint, Serra stands apart in the historiography of early California, even as he has come to represent all California missionaries. But as José Refugio de la Torre reminds us in his essay, Franciscan missionaries—even though they were all members of a distinctive order with demanding rules—often disagreed and were not all alike, and their individual, group, and corporate identities were shaped as much by personal experience as by the goals and projects that so animated their lives. Most important, de la Torre shows us not only how missionaries’ goals reflected differences among individuals but also how these goals varied over time as successive generations of missionaries sought to spread their own brand of mission- based Catholicism to the far reaches of New Spain’s colonial north. Missionaries of course came to California to indoctrinate Indians into Catholicism, and the essays in part 2 suggest how the colonial en- counter offered new avenues for the expression of Indian identity. In her portrait of Pablo Tac, Lisbeth Haas illustrates that Indian identity in Cal- ifornia could be at once Catholic, oppositional, and indigenous. Tac was clearly exceptional in that he, unlike any other California Indian who lived during the colonial period, left his own written account of life in the California missions. Tac’s own narrative in the hands of Haas speaks to the ability of many California Indians to maintain a sense of individ- ual, tribal, and communal identity within “a world of defeat.” Individuals 10 Steven W. Hackel

like Tac balanced a sense of self that combined a comprehension of the colonial hierarchies at work in California with possibilities for “equality, liberty, and citizenship” within the emerging Republic of Mexico. Pablo Tac was not alone among California Indians in crafting part of his identity at the missions through close ties with the Franciscans. For, as James A. Sandos reveals in his careful and novel study of the choristers and musi- cians at Missions San Jose and , the missions afforded Indians with musical abilities special opportunities to combine old and new beliefs and practices and to join, in Sandos’s words, “a privileged so- cial and spiritual world.” Sandos’s essay not only explores the relation- ship between music and individual identity in the missions but also, for the first time, identifies many of the Indians in colonial California whose lives and selves cohered around music and song. As part 3 discusses, for soldiers and settlers who moved to Alta Cal- ifornia, identity was more a matter of culture and power than race and ethnicity. As Louise Pubols argues, political identity in Mexican Califor- nia was immensely complicated for soldiers and settlers. They were united in their belief that they were a people apart from the Indians of the re- gion, but they had a harder time determining their true political loyalties. The region had passed from Spain to Mexico a mere two generations after its birth, before any strong ties had been constructed between the fron- tier and the governing . Thus, despite a collective caste con- sciousness, the region’s pobladores did not forge or share a common national identity. Rather, by the , most native-born non-Indian men in California asserted a fictional Spanish descent, a nominal identifica- tion with the Republic of Mexico, and a fierce pride in their identity as “Californio,” a cluster of ideas and behaviors explored by Pubols. Whereas Pubols examines the cultural foundations of an emerging regional Cali- fornio identity in Mexican California, anthropologists John R. Johnson and Joseph G. Lorenz deploy new scientific techniques rooted in the study of mitochondrial DNA to reveal the degree to which the Californios’ cul- tural identity masked their mestizo genetic origins. Johnson and Lorenz’s explorations of the deep ancestry of California’s soldiers and settlers sug- gests not only the Sonoran and Sinaloan origins of the Californios but that identity in colonial California was a cultural construction, not a biologi- cal inheritance. Part 4 of this volume moves from history and the study of colonial California to historiography and an examination of how historians dur- ing the twentieth century, proceeding from a variety of perspectives and motives, shaped the identity of the field of the Spanish Borderlands. In a blend of historical research and personal narrative, Al Hurtado exam- Introduction 11 ines how , the pioneering historian who created the field of Spanish Borderlands history, built a professional empire that sought for the first time to give Spain’s colonial North American posses- sions their proper place in the narrative of American history. Though he lauds Bolton’s goal, Hurtado discovers in him a shrewd political tacti- cian who was willing to perpetuate California’s “fantasy heritage” in order to create his own professional empire. This fantasy heritage was the modern-day incarnation of the racial fictions and spurious notions of cultural purity that defined Californio identity and that are so carefully explicated in this volume by Pubols, Johnson, and Lorenz. The history of the concept of “identity” and the degree to which schol- ars have applied it to the study of the Spanish Borderlands before 1848 are the focus of David J. Weber’s wide-ranging historiographical essay. In his survey of twentieth-century Borderlands scholarship from Bolton through the linguistic turn, Weber observes that scholars of the Borderlands have long concentrated on Spanish and Mexican “character” and its response to the environment and Indians of the northern frontier. Weber concludes that the more modern concept of identity is both useful and necessary to capture “realities for which contemporaries had no useful vocabulary.” In the essay that draws this volume to a close, Sylvia L. Hilton reveals how the national and nationalist perspectives of Spanish scholars have shaped Spanish scholarship on the Borderlands. In a work that is both monu- mental and microscopic, Hilton surveys and synthesizes more than 250 years of scholarship. In so doing, she helps illuminate the degree to which historians and their scholarship can be said to have identities of their own. Like the people historians study, Hilton argues, historical scholarship is the product of time and place and the outcome of competing loyalties and evolving subjectivities. This volume then, in all of its parts, illuminates the vital and dynamic nature of identity in Spanish and Mexican California and the central importance of identity as a topic of inquiry in studies of the shaping of the larger field of Spanish Borderlands history. r

From conceptualization through completion, this volume has been a pleasure, one now enhanced by the opportunity to acknowledge those people and institutions who have made this work possible. This volume’s indebtedness to Roy Ritchie and the Huntington Library is enormous, and it is suggested over the preceding pages. In planning the conference that became this volume I had the very useful advice of William B. Taylor, David J. Weber, and Walter Brem, three scholars whose 12 Steven W. Hackel

generosity and knowledge match their enthusiasm for the study of the Borderlands. Janet Fireman, David Igler, Fredrika J. Teute, Peter C. Man- call, William B. Taylor, and series editor William Deverell provided wise counsel and encouragement as this volume took shape. For a quiet office for my work on this project and others, as well as a never-ending supply of engaging conversationalists, I thank the Huntington Library Research Division. The staff of the Huntington Library Press—Sara K. Austin, Jean Patterson, and the incomparable Susan Green—eased my job as editor through their careful work, unstinting standards, good cheer, and tireless enthusiasm. Finally, while this volume was a collective and collaborative effort among the authors whose work is presented here, compiling and editing these essays took time and energy, and more time and more en- ergy. Without the love, support, and encouragement of Heidi Brayman Hackel it would not have been possible.

NOTES 1 Zephyrin Engelhardt, San Diego Mission: The Missions and Missionaries of Cal- ifornia (San Francisco: James H. Barry, 1920), 39. 2 For the records of these baptisms, see the Early California Population Project, http://missions.huntington.org, Francisco Antonio, San Diego bapt. no. 1, and Carlos, San Diego bapt. no. 35. 3 Francisco, San Diego bapt. no. 32. On this rebellion, see Steven W. Hackel, Chil- dren of Coyote, Missionaries of Saint Francis: Indian-Spanish Relations in Colo- nial California, 1769–1850 (Chapel Hill: University of Press, 2005), 258–61; and James A. Sandos, Converting California: Indians and Fran- ciscans in the Missions (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2004), 55–68. 4 This is not to say that Indian views of colonial California are non-existent. See, for example, Steven W. Hackel, “Sources of Rebellion: Indian Testimony and the Mission San Gabriel Uprising of 1785,” Ethnohistory 50, no. 4 (2003): 643–69, and the essay by Haas in this volume, “‘Raise your sword and I will eat you’: Luiseño Scholar Pablo Tac, ca. 1841.” 5 During the Spanish period, missionaries and soldiers clashed over the role of the missions and the degree to which the padres could control and punish In- dians. Those conflicts deepened during the colonial period until the 1830s, when mission stripped the Franciscans of most of their author- ity over Indians. On late twentieth-century debates over the missions and mis- sion historiography, see James A. Sandos, “Junípero Serra’s Canonization and the Historical Record,” American Historical Review 93, no. 5 (1988): 1253–69. 6 This method of recording and identifying individual Indians in registers was simply a recordkeeping system; Indians did not know their own baptism num- bers and continued to identify themselves by their native names or, later, by their given Spanish names. Introduction 13

7 James Culleton, Indians and Pioneers of Old Monterey: Being a Chronicle of the Religious History of Carmel Mission Considered in Connection with Monterey’s Other Local Events and California’s General History (Fresno, Calif.: Academy of California Church History, 1950). 8 Marie E. Northrop and Genealogical Society, Spanish- Mexican Families of Early California, 1769–1850, 1st ed. (: Poly - anthos, 1976); Marie E. Northrop and Southern California Genealogical Society, Spanish-Mexican Families of Early California, 1769–1850, 2nd ed. (Burbank, Calif: Southern California Genealogical Society, 1987). 9 Sherburne F. Cook and Woodrow W. Borah, Essays in Population History: Mex- ico and the , 3 vols. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971–79). 10 Randall Milliken, A Time of Little Choice: The Disintegration of Tribal Culture in the Area, 1769–1810 (Menlo Park and Novato, Calif.: Bal- lena Press, 1995); John Richard Johnson, “Chumash Social Organization: An Ethnohistoric Perspective” (PhD diss., University of California, Santa Barbara, 1988). 11 For full discussions of the creation of the database, see Steven W. Hackel, “Early California Population Project Report,” Journal of California and Great Basin Anthropology 26, no. 1 (2006): 71–74; Steven W. Hackel and Anne Marie Reid, “Transforming an 18th-Century Archive into a 21st-Century Database: The Early California Population Project,” History Compass 5, no. 3 (2007): 1013–25. 12 See, for example, the recent essay by Sara Peelo, “Baptism among the Salinan Neophytes of Mission San Antonio de Padua: Investigating the Ecological Hy- pothesis,” in Ethnohistory 56, no. 4 (2009): 589–624; the essay by Sandos in this volume, “Identity through Music: Choristers at Missions San Jose and San Juan Bautista”; and Quincy Newell, Constructing Lives at Mission San Francisco: Native Californians and Colonists, 1776–1821 (Albuquerque: Univer- sity of Press, 2009). 13 For works that do take up the issue of identity in early California, see Lisbeth Haas, Conquests and Historical Identities in California, 1769–1936 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996); Barbara Voss, The Archaeology of Ethno- genesis: Race and Sexuality in Colonial San Francisco (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008). 14 Hubert Howe Bancroft, California, 7 vols. (San Francisco: A. L. Bancroft & Co., 1884–90); Zephyrin Engelhardt, Missions and Missionaries of California, 4 vols. (San Francisco: James H. Barry Company, 1908–15). 15 See the voluminous work of Robert F. Heizer. See also the work of the Francis- can historian Maynard J. Geiger, including The Life and Times of Fray Junípero Serra, O.F.M.; or, The Man Who Never Turned Back, 1713–1784, a Biography (, D.C.: Academy of American Franciscan History, 1959). 16 Hackel, Children of Coyote; Sandos, Converting California; and Beebe and Senkewicz, “What They Brought: The Alta California Franciscans before 1769,” in this volume. 14 Steven W. Hackel

17 Nicholas Canny and Anthony Pagden, eds., Colonial Identity in the Atlantic World, 1500–1800 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987). For a dis- cussion of the changing meaning of the term identity in scholarship, see Philip Gleason, “Identifying Identity: A Semantic History,” The Journal of American History 69, no. 4 (1983): 910–31. For other important studies of identity in colo- nial America, see Michael Zuckerman, “The Formation of Identity in Early America,” William and Mary Quarterly 34, no. 2 (1977): 183–214; Jack P. Greene, Imperatives, Behaviors, and Identities: Essays in Early American Cultural His- tory (Charlottesville: University Press of , 1992); Ronald Hoffman, Mechal Sobel, and Fredrika J. Teute, eds., Through a Glass Darkly: Reflections on Personal Identity in Early America (Chapel Hill: Published for the Omo- hundro Institute of Early American History and Culture by the University of North Carolina Press, 1997). 18 Canny and Pagden, eds., Colonial Identity in the Atlantic World, 5. 19 David A. Brading, The First America: The Spanish , Creole Patriots, and the , 1492–1867 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 1991. 20 Ralph Bauer and José Antonio Mazzotti, eds., Creole Subjects in the Colonial : Empires, Texts, Identities (Chapel Hill: Published for the Omohun- dro Institute of Early American History and Culture by the University of North Carolina Press, 2009). 21 This scholarship is exceptionally broad and deep. For a recent work on these is- sues in the , see Lee M. Panich, “Missionization and the Persistence of Native Identity on the Colonial Frontier of ,” Ethnohistory 57, no. 2 (2010): 225–62. 22 Greg Dening, “Introduction: In Search of a Metaphor” and “Histories of Self,” in Through a Glass Darkly, 1–5, 9–12. 23 Gene Allen Smith and Sylvia L. Hilton, eds., Nexus of Empire: Negotiating Loy- alty and Identity in the Revolutionary Borderlands, (Gainesville: University Press of , 2010). 24 Andrés Reséndez, Changing National Identities at the Frontier: Texas and New Mexico, 1800–1850 (Cambridge and : Cambridge University Press, 2005). 25 Andrew B. Fisher and Matthew D. O’Hara, eds., Imperial Subjects: Race and Identity in Colonial (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2009). 26 Rosamaría Toruño Tanghetti, “Licit and Illicit Unions: Engendering Mexican Society,” in A Companion to California History, ed. William Deverell and David Igler (Chichester, U.K., and Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2008), 127–44. 27 William M. Mason, The Census of 1790: A Demographic History of Colonial California (Menlo Park, Calif.: Ballena Press, 1998), 45–76. 28 Matrimonial Investigation of José Miguel Pico and María Casilda de la Cruz, Father Esteban Tapis, Mission Santa Barbara, October 31, 1794, and Father Miguel Sanchez, November 6, 1794, San Gabriel Mission Matrimonial Investi- gation Records, McPherson Collection, Honnold/Mudd Library, Claremont Colleges, Claremont, Calif.; Mason, Census of 1790, 85.