Man Behind Cuyama Valley Indian Massacre (12 pages)

PAGE 30 THECALIFORNIANS VOLUME12/NO. 3 settlers in the valley, as was Don Raphael Reyes, my cousin who settled in the upper Cuyama valley. Just below the hut where . lived there was a large unmarked graveyard. I would avoid it because of the story that was told about it. . was young and so afraid of the poor lost souls buried there. Uncle Joe and many others in the Cuyama said there were 42 Indians buried there. They had all died of poisoning by Godoy. They were supposedly the last of the free mountain Indian tribes in Cuyama. It seems that Godoy, who ran cattle on the ranch, believed they were stealing from him but he could not catch them in the act. Having spoke to the Indians several times to no avail, he decided to invite them to a delicious barbecue on the ranch. Thinking that Godoy wanted to be friends with them, the Indians accepted, but Godoy had poisoned the beef. All of them died, men, women and children. They were quickly buried by Godoy and his helpers and forgotten. Some say there was one Indian woman saved from the poisoning whom Godoy had an eye for. He was already living with an Indian wife and was well known as a squaw man.” This is the version ] heard as a child. The story varies, as all stories do that are retold generation to generation. The differences lay in why and how Godoy poisoned the Indians. For example, the June 1933 issue of the magazine Touring Topics presents an interview conducted by M.R. Harrington (writer, historian and curator of the Southwest Museum 1928-1964) with an unnamed man described only as a “grayhaired ranchero,” regarding Godoy/Godey and his role in the Cuyama poisonings: Ah, no, sefior, it was no accident. On purpose, a propdsito, he fed them poison, that shameless one, Godoy . he and his two wicked vaqueros, especially that devil Ramirez, the one they called “El Chihuahua.” “But what a terrible thing! Why should anyone ever wish to poison forty-two people?” Listen and you shall hear. Do you see those mountains, amigo? I looked where he pointed. There across the yellow plain lay distant, blue, timbered ranges rimming the valley to the south. On those mountains grow many pifiones — you know, pinenuts, and there the Indians used to go every fall to gather these nuts, which, as you may have heard, sefior, were a favorite food of theirs. Si, sefior, it was in the Fall of the year that the dreadful deed was done. . The Indians were preparing to leave for those mountains, when Godoy invited them to a fiesta — a farewell feast you might say. A farewell feast indeed! There had been bad feeling between them, the Indians and Godoy, although the shameless one was living with an Indian woman. Porqué? Why, do you ask? Well, Godoy said the Indians had secretly killed some of his cattle, and it may have been true, quien sabe? Also the Indians knew that they must guard their wives and daughters well when Godoy or his vaqueros were near, for they had winning ways with women. And now the fiesta. Perhaps the poor Indians thought Godoy was trying to make friendship again with them. Los pobrecitos! Who shall tell? Pues, the feast was made ready. The beef was killed and cut to pieces and the meat hung up ready for the barbecue. But some of it was poisoned. Most of it, I should say. And by the shameless Godoy and those two bandidos, his helpers, especially El Chihuahua. Also a barrel of wine was brought. Now some of the meat was not poisoned, and this the wicked three marked well, for it was for themselves, so they might eat with their guests without danger. Now came the Indios to the farewell feast — El Capitan, the Indian chief; his daughter, who was muy bonita; many men, women and little children, nearly all the Indians left in the valley, fortythree in all. And now Godoy gave them vino, and plenty of it, until most of them were borrachitos. How shall we say it? Ah, si, just a little drunk. And this Godoy did so that his guests might not see too much, or taste anything wrong with the meat. And now the meat was served to all the Indians, except to the daughter of the capitan, she got none of it. She was the forty-third, and Godoy took her into the house to eat with his wife, he said. But of the daughter I shall speak more. Now the others began to eat, and now they began to fall, in drunken sleep their comrades thought. But never did they wake again, amigo. How Godoy and his vaqueros worked that night! Saddling their horses they dragged their guests with riatas from the barbecue ground, two or three at a time, men, women and little children, nifios chiquitos, sefior. Ave Maria, what a frightful thing! Forty-two of them they dragged to a little rise of ground not far away, and there they dug a shallow pit. . Itwas daylight when the last guest was covered. . And next night came the coyotes. In my time the plow used to turn out bones from that same spot. Perhaps you might still find a few white slivers of bone among the grass roots if you would care to look —” “What . what happened to the chief's daughter?” I faltered. I was about to tell you. Godoy wanted her, because, as I said, she was pretty, although he already had an Indian woman, but the girl would have nothing to do with him. Godoy did not dare to take her by force, for fear of her father, El Capitan. During the Fiesta of Death Godoy kept her locked in his house, the same adobe . told you about, and in the morning, when she asked him “Where is my father?” he replied “He wanted me to take care of you while he’ went to the mountains.” Godoy the shameless! To get that girl for himself Godoy and his vaqueros killed forty-two human beings. What became of her? Dios solo sabe, God only knows, sefior. And this is not the only version. Some say it was not the beef but the beans that were poisoned, while others believe that the beans had fermented and the Indians were accidentally poisoned, and still others say Godoy tired of providing the Indians with government beef and finally just poisoned the beef. Otherwise, the old-timers of Cuyama who repeat this story tell it with the same details as my grandmother's version. To understand the story, however, the historical context of that period and the character of Alejandro Godoy must be explored. Alexander Godey (as Godoy was called in English), John C. Frémont’s trusted scout and noted frontiersman, was a complex man who lived unto himself and no other. His contemporaries knew him as an intimidating man who would always have his way, yet a man who also was generous, hospitable and loyal to those he liked and respected. A fearless mountain man in his early days, Godey was famous for rescuing the few survivors of Frémont’s disastrous fourth expedition into the Rockies. But in studying his experiences with Indians, a number of details of Alexander Godey’s life emerge to support the possibility that he was indeed behind the hideous massacre at the Cuyama ranch. A quiet French-Creole from St. Louis. Godey was born in St. Louis around 1818 to French-Creole parents. (After he died in January of 1889, his age was given as 71, but those who knew him said he consistently understated his age by as much as 20 years.) In Frank Latta’s book Saga of Rancho El Tejon, Don José Lopez, who knew Alex “ Godey well in his later years, describes th. , man as he was then. Don J foreman of El Tejon Ranc y P, a

PAGE 30 THECALIFORNIANS VOLUME12/NO. 3 settlers in the valley, as was Don Raphael Reyes, my cousin who settled in the upper Cuyama valley. Just below the hut where . lived there was a large unmarked graveyard. I would avoid it because of the story that was told about it. . was young and so afraid of the poor lost souls buried there. Uncle Joe and many others in the Cuyama said there were 42 Indians buried there. They had all died of poisoning by Godoy. They were supposedly the last of the free mountain Indian tribes in Cuyama. It seems that Godoy, who ran cattle on the ranch, believed they were stealing from him but he could not catch them in the act. Having spoke to the Indians several times to no avail, he decided to invite them to a delicious barbecue on the ranch. Thinking that Godoy wanted to be friends with them, the Indians accepted, but Godoy had poisoned the beef. All of them died, men, women and children. They were quickly buried by Godoy and his helpers and forgotten. Some say there was one Indian woman saved from the poisoning whom Godoy had an eye for. He was already living with an Indian wife and was well known as a squaw man.” This is the version ] heard as a child. The story varies, as all stories do that are retold generation to generation. The differences lay in why and how Godoy poisoned the Indians. For example, the June 1933 issue of the magazine Touring Topics presents an interview conducted by M.R. Harrington (writer, historian and curator of the Southwest Museum 1928-1964) with an unnamed man described only as a “grayhaired ranchero,” regarding Godoy/Godey and his role in the Cuyama poisonings: Ah, no, sefior, it was no accident. On purpose, a propdsito, he fed them poison, that shameless one, Godoy .. he and his two wicked vaqueros, especially that devil Ramirez, the one they called “El Chihuahua.” “But what a terrible thing! Why should anyone ever wish to poison forty-two people?” Listen and you shall hear. Do you see those mountains, amigo? I looked where he pointed. There across the yellow plain lay distant, blue, timbered ranges rimming the valley to the south. On those mountains grow many pifiones — you know, pinenuts, and there the Indians used to go every fall to gather these nuts, which, as you may have heard, sefior, were a favorite food of theirs. Si, sefior, it was in the Fall of the year that the dreadful deed was done. .. The Indians were preparing to leave for those mountains, when Godoy invited them to a fiesta — a farewell feast you might say. A farewell feast indeed! There had been bad feeling between them, the Indians and Godoy, although the shameless one was living with an Indian woman. Porqué? Why, do you ask? Well, Godoy said the Indians had secretly killed some of his cattle, and it may have been true, quien sabe? Also the Indians knew that they must guard their wives and daughters well when Godoy or his vaqueros were near, for they had winning ways with women. And now the fiesta. Perhaps the poor Indians thought Godoy was trying to make friendship again with them. Los pobrecitos! Who shall tell? Pues, the feast was made ready. The beef was killed and cut to pieces and the meat hung up ready for the barbecue. But some of it was poisoned. Most of it, I should say. And by the shameless Godoy and those two bandidos, his helpers, especially El Chihuahua. Also a barrel of wine was brought. Now some of the meat was not poisoned, and this the wicked three marked well, for it was for themselves, so they might eat with their guests without danger. Now came the Indios to the farewell feast — El Capitan, the Indian chief; his daughter, who was muy bonita; many men, women and little children, nearly all the Indians left in the valley, fortythree in all. And now Godoy gave them

vino, and plenty of it, until most of them were borrachitos. How shall we say it? Ah, si, just a little drunk. And this Godoy did so that his guests might not see too much, or taste anything wrong with the meat. And now the meat was served to all the Indians, except to the daughter of the capitan, she got none of it. She was the forty-third, and Godoy took her into the house to eat with his wife, he said. But of the daughter I shall speak more. Now the others began to eat, and now they began to fall, in drunken sleep their comrades thought. But never did they wake again, amigo. How Godoy and his vaqueros worked that night! Saddling their horses they dragged their guests with riatas from the barbecue ground, two or three at a time, men, women and little children, nifios chiquitos, sefior. Ave Maria, what a frightful thing! Forty-two of them they dragged to a little rise of ground not far away, and there they dug a shallow pit. .. Itwas daylight when the last guest was covered. .. And next night came the coyotes. In my time the plow used to turn out bones from that same spot. Perhaps you might still find a few white slivers of bone among the grass roots if you would care to look —” “What .. what happened to the chief's daughter?” I faltered. I was about to tell you. Godoy wanted her, because, as I said, she was pretty, although he already had an Indian woman, but the girl would have nothing to do with him. Godoy did not dare to take her by force, for fear of her father, El Capitan. During the Fiesta of Death Godoy kept her locked in his house, the same adobe . told you about, and in the morning, when she asked him “Where is my father?” he replied “He wanted me to take care of you while he’ went to the mountains.” Godoy the shameless! To get that girl for himself Godoy and his vaqueros killed forty-two human beings. What became of her? Dios solo sabe, God only knows, sefior. And this is not the only version. Some say it was not the beef but the beans that were poisoned, while others believe that the beans had fermented and the Indians were accidentally poisoned, and still others say Godoy tired of providing the Indians with government beef and finally just poisoned the beef. Otherwise, the old-timers of Cuyama who repeat this story tell it with the same details as my grandmother's version. To understand the story, however, the historical context of that period and the character of Alejandro Godoy must be explored. Alexander Godey (as Godoy was called in English), John C. Frémont’s trusted scout and noted frontiersman, was a complex man who lived unto himself and no other. His contemporaries knew him as an intimidating man who would always have his way, yet a man who also was generous, hospitable and loyal to those he liked and respected. A fearless mountain man in his early days, Godey was famous for rescuing the few survivors of Frémont’s disastrous fourth expedition into the Rockies. But in studying his experiences with Indians, a number of details of Alexander Godey’s life emerge to support the possibility that he was indeed behind the hideous massacre at the Cuyama ranch. A quiet French-Creole from St. Louis. Godey was born in St. Louis around 1818 to French-Creole parents. (After he died in January of 1889, his age was given as 71, but those who knew him said he consistently understated his age by as much as 20 years.) In Frank Latta’s book Saga of Rancho El Tejon, Don José Lopez, who knew Alex “ Godey well in his later years, describes th. , man as he was then. Don J foreman of El Tejon Ranc y P, a