Digger: The Tragic Fate of the California Indians from the Missions to the Gold Rush

by Jerry Stanley

From the award-winning author of Children of the Dustbowl comes a sobering look at two of the most frequently romanticized events in American history. For the native peoples of California, the period from 1769, when the first Spanish Mission was founded, to the 1850s, when the Gold Rush was at its height, was one of terrible violence and destruction. First, Spanish priests and soldiers sought to convert the Indians to Christianity and a "civilized" way of life. Yet for the Indians the story of the missions was one of hunger, disease, rebellion, and death. Then, during the Gold Rush, Indians were frequently kidnapped, murdered, and sold into slavery by white settlers. By the end of the nineteenth century, the surviving California Indians had been forced onto reservations and their way of life had been largely destroyed. With maps, a timeline, and glossaries on California's Indian tribes and mission history, Jerry Stanley tells the story of modern California from the poignant perspective of the Native American.  

Hardcover

First published August 5, 1997

About the author

“I’ve learned there’s no such thing as wasted writing or bad writing. All writing leads to better writing.”

Jerry Stanley is the author of several highly praised books for young readers, including Children of the Dust Bowl, winner of the Orbis Pictus Award; I Am an American, an ALA Notable Book; and Hurry Freedom, a National Book Award nominee and winner of the Orbis Pictus Award. He is a former professor of history at California State University.

Being a writer is one of the great achievements of my life. As a teenager growing up in Detroit, Michigan, I hated school, all my teachers, and learning in general. When I was expelled from high school at the age of seventeen for fighting, I had passed two units—one in woodshop and one in gym. In bidding me farewell, my counselor fired his last shot at my self’-esteem: “Stanley,” he said, “you’re so dumb you couldn’t finish school even if you tried.”

It has taken a lot to prove him wrong. I joined the Air Force to get away from home and after a few years started taking correspondence courses through the mail. During the day I drove bulldozers and forklifts, and at night I learned how to write a complete sentence. I was twenty-one when I finally received my diploma from high school, which was somewhere near the base but which I never saw or visited. I was playing drums in a rock-’n’-roll band when I left the service and enrolled in junior college. This was the turning point in my life: not what I learned there, but getting the nerve to enroll.

I was the model insecure student, as hardly a day passed without my remembering, “Stanley, you’re so dumb. . . .” I can look back now with amusement and laughter at some of the things I did. For example, when I was registering on the first day, standing in a long line to get past this one station, a woman asked, “What do you think your major will be?” I had no idea of what she meant by “major,” but the girl in front of me said “English” and that got her through, so I said “English” (whatever that was) too. A month or so later, while talking about the upcoming midterm (my first), the teacher said, “Blue books are required. You can’t take the midterm without a blue book.” I spent nearly an hour in the library looking for the blue books—in the card catalog under blue, in the periodicals—until a kind reference librarian told me, without snickering, that they were in the bookstore. Though amusing now, when these things happened to me, they were proof that I would be found out: I don’t belong here.

Fearing failure, I became an overachiever. I overstudied every subject, and wrote and rewrote each term paper before finally relinquishing it. But I still lived in doubt from one grade report to the next. Making the dean’s list, graduating from junior college with honors, and being invited to join an honor society all gave me tremendous confidence—for about a day, before the old demon of self-defeat reemerged. Nevertheless, I made my second big decision and enrolled in a state university. At least I now knew what a major was, and I proclaimed “History,” but the most enduring memory of my first few weeks there was learning how to spell university (in case I suddenly had to).

When it became clear that I would get my bachelor’s degree cum laude, I vowed to continue my education until they kicked me out or until there were no other degrees to earn, whichever came first. This was the easiest decision because it came last and not because I had unshakable confidence in my ability to do graduate work. Looking back, I now see that I was not ready for school when my counselor committed that great crime against me by calling me stupid. The hardest decision was the first time I tried to prove him wrong by enrolling in junior college and showing up for my first class quite literally trembling in my chair.

Before the university said that’s it, I earned a Ph.D. and a Phi Beta Ka

Reviews

[Harry Allagree · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Eighty years after Serra [Fr. Junipero, a Catholic Franciscan] arrived in San Diego, gold was discovered in California. Starting in 1849, Americans by the thousands traveled west to join the California gold rush. That same year miners from Oregon were digging for gold near the northern California town of Marysville when they spotted an Indian family using sticks to dig for wild carrots. The miners likened the Indians to hogs rooting in the dirt. The shouted that the Indians should leave.
When the Indians seemed to hesitate, one of the miners shouted, "Digger! Digger!" as he fired his rifle in the air. The Indians ran away, knowing that if they stayed they might be shot." (p. 2)

Thus, the name of this short, simple, well written, well documented and very sad saga of the people we call "Native American" Californians, from their arrival in c. 10,000 BC. The name, coincidentally (?) is akin to the "N" epithet often used in our history about African-Americans. This story of the Native Californian Indians is sad because the statistics spell out the story of a systematic ruthless, barbaric genocide of a beautiful, intelligent, creative and mostly peaceful culture and society, carried out first by the Spanish, particularly Catholic Franciscan priests; then by generations of politicians who, through laws & illegal disregard of 18 valid treaties with Native Americans, enabled generations of greedy & prejudiced white Californian-American citizens to decimate a people. "In 1769 there were 400,000 California Indians; in 1834, 150,000; in 1848, 125,000; in 1855, 65,000; in 1860, 35,000." (p. 71)

In his book Stanley places before our eyes the undeniable reality of how the "Golden State" really originated.

[Jamierin Walters · Rating 4 out of 5]

Before reading this, I had no actual knowledge on the California Indians nor did I know that they existed. I only know minimum knowledge on the more well-known Native American tribes. This book provided lots of information on the California Indians and where they originated from and who they are as a tribe. The book outlined how they first came to North America, more specifically what is now known as California, via the land bridge that existed a very long time ago. It also outlined how they dispersed within all of California and what their style of life was. It outlined any and all hardships that they faced when new people started to show up. I was interested in reading how the Spaniards effected the California Indians and how the people that embarked on an adventure to get rich, made their situation even worse. I would use this book if I were to teach a lesson on Native American tribes because it is very informational and it is not dry nor too big of a reading.

[Savannah Bryant · Rating 3 out of 5]

Digger is an eye-opening chronicle of the horrific events that befell the California Indians. From the arrival of the Spanish missionaries to the California Gold Rush, the reader is enlightened on the cultural destruction and dehumanization the Indians received from European settlers. Rarely have I come across a young adult nonfiction that wipes away our romanticizations of Indian/European interactions and exposes the uglier truth beneath. Applause to the author for revealing a story that many have tried to hide. This book brings about a cultural and social awareness that will surely benefit readers young and old alike. Because of references to mature situations, would not recommend for readers 7th grade and younger.

[Siobhan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Paints an idealistic picture of pre-Contact California pictures, and only comments on the atrocities that happen post-contact. Felt a bit one sided, although no doubt true. Meant for upper middle school - adult.