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Foreword
eBook Version of A Year on the Island of Guam 1899-1900
By
Dominica Tolentino, Guam Museum
When Jillette Leon Guerrero told me her next project was to publish A Year on the Island of Guam 1899-1900, by William Safford, she had just finished her film project, Across the Water in Time. The film was an ambitious effort that demonstrated techniques in genealogical research to discover and tell the story of connections of a man from 19th century Guam to people and places across time—and finding a part of herself in the process. It was a personal story, and because of that, I believe, it made the film all the more compelling. A Year on the Island of Guam is also a personal story, and one that can connect with readers in a compelling and powerful way, especially those of us who live on Guam or who are interested in Guam history.
Leon Guerrero has taken the writings of the first assistant governor of Guam, US Navy Lieutenant William E. Safford, assigned to the newly acquired spoil of the Spanish-American War of 1898, and presents a piece that is visually a pleasure to look at and easy to read. In this first incarnation as an e-publication, the book is wonderfully interactive. Leon Guerrero has added links that take the reader to other websites, including her Guamology site and Guampedia.com, both of which feature entries that highlight Guam history and culture. These links give the reader or researcher additional information, such as images of plants, maps, or backstories of individuals mentioned in the text, all accessible “with the click of a mouse.” The book is further enriched with impressive artwork by local artist Dr. Judy Flores, whose renderings capture the events described by Safford, but delivered with an islander’s sensibility that is representative of Flores’ unique style.
In going through the pages and links, one finds a man weighted with the responsibility of governing a new territory with people as different from himself as he has ever encountered in his travels across the Pacific. In one passage Safford laments how ill-prepared he is to take on so many roles, but he must because the man officially assigned as governor, Captain Richard Leary, refuses to leave the USS Yosemite until the construction of his own house is completed. With a lack of training and an abundance of self-doubt, Safford understands that he must rely on the help and friendship of the people around him, from Padre José Bernardo Palomo y Torres, to paymaster Don Luís Torres, to his cook Doña Susana Perez. He writes,
“I cannot help feeling the responsibility of my situation; I feel poorly prepared to decide questions involving nice points of law, for, though I am judge, I have had no other legal training than that of sitting on courts-martial. My little codes of Spanish colonial law, civil, commercial, and criminal, are not much larger than prayer-books; and I can only do my best in deciding cases between the people under my charge. When I am in doubt I go to my dear old friend Father Palomo. That Governor does not like to be bothered; he tells me to do as I think best.”—W.E. Safford, 1899
It is this kind of vulnerability and personal reflection that allows the reader to connect so intimately with Safford and demonstrates the power of diaries and journals as sources of historical information that touch us more deeply than impersonal accounts of dates and events.
We love reading journals and diaries because they give us a peek into the life of an individual, to see the world through their eyes, to take in what they experience, consider the questions they contemplate and the thought processes that run through their minds. This kind of intimacy fascinates us, makes us curious, but also makes us reflect on our own lives. We compare our present to the writer’s past. We take in the details and the descriptions and the stories, as they present to us a world that may be long gone—but if we dig deeply enough, we can learn something about ourselves along the way.
Safford not only presents accounts of his stay, he also provides a rich description of the island, its topography and the abundance of plants that flourished on Guam, and his experiments with new plants in his own gardens. In this sense, the journal is also a botanist’s notebook, with scientific names and their Chamorro equivalents placed throughout the text. Some of the Chamorro names are no longer in use, which makes the discovery of the old terms fascinating and surprising. Fortunately for non-plant specialists, Leon Guerrero provides links with images to the various plant species about which Safford writes.
Students and researchers of history and culture, though, will be equally moved by Safford’s mostly sympathetic presentation of the Chamorro people, their character and their challenges as the island transitioned from centuries of Spanish colonialism to American military colonial rule. For example, he recounts the impact the arrival of American sailors and marines had on the people, from their racially disparaging remarks to public drunkenness and assault on Chamorros, to the shortage of food caused by having to feed these men. He writes of the executive orders that removed the Spanish priests and banned religious holidays, and other orders that barred unmarried couples from raising children together, causing people to get divorced (frowned upon by their Catholic faith) and to remarry in order to avoid penalties from the naval government. Stafford himself believed the best way to help the Chamorros sustain themselves better was to introduce the notion of capital and to register their land with the government. It is ironic, though, that the very culture, people and way of life Safford found so charming and worthy of maintaining were profoundly impacted by rules the US naval government imposed through these various executive orders—orders that were meant to remove all vestiges of Spanish Catholic influence and some important Chamorro traditions to make way for the Americanization of Guam.
Safford, though, is a man of his time and occupation, bound by his sense of duty but also by his impression that the Chamorros deserved better. He wrote,
“We may be accused of paternalism, but these people are like children in some respects and need a father’s care and love and guidance. In an island like this, where food can be produced in such abundance there is no reason why anybody should go hungry. What we want to do is to induce the natives to produce not only what they require for their own needs but a little more.”—W.E. Safford, 1899
Perhaps most interesting for some readers will be the stories of the individuals that walked into and out of Safford’s life, or rather, he in theirs. His position as judge, vice-governor, and everything else, and his open door policy were beneficial for getting to know people and gaining their respect and affection. Throughout the text are familiar names: Portusach, Quitugua, Martinez, Blaz, Perez. Fortunately, Leon Guerrero again provides links with references to these individuals and their descendants through the Guamology site. We see the personal connections and friendships he made with Padre Palomo, the first native Chamorro priest, and Don José Herrero, the “friend of the funny stories and happy fiddler;” the colorful cook, Doña Susana Perez, who took care of Safford’s meals and who cried inconsolably when Safford had to leave. So well-liked was Safford that even the houseboy Francisco, went out of his way to present him with two white hens as a parting gift. It is a testament to a man who was impressed by the Chamorro people but who also wanted to treat them with fairness and respect. He wrote,
“Nothing more beautiful than this island could be imagined; and no one could wish for more pleasant occupation nor for kinder friends. Above all, I feel it a privilege to be engaged in work which really counts—work in which I can be of some use to people who need me.”—W. E. Safford, 1899
As a teacher, student and fan of Guam history and culture, I believe Safford’s book, especially in electronic form, will be a good exercise for other students to engage in critical analysis of historical writing and discussing the role personal documents play in the study of history and anthropology. After all, the amount of energy and effort a writer makes in putting their thoughts into words and penning them on paper, and the conscious and unconscious decisions and motives to talk about some things and leave out details of others, should be part of the process of our reading and evaluating any kind of historical document. Safford’s journal gives us plenty of material for our consideration.
A Year on the Island of Guam 1899-1900 is a remarkable book—a journal, a scientist’s field notebook, a historical ethnography, a photo album and art book all rolled into one. Its simplicity in e-book form, though, belies its complexity. Leon Guerrero has meticulously collected images and information to enhance the book’s offerings for readers that would take up dozens if not hundreds of additional pages in a regular printed text—which may be a future endeavor. But for now, she presents us with a unique resource that takes advantage of informational technology and re-introduces turn of-the-century Guam to a potentially broader audience. Her effort brings back this important work and demonstrates how we ourselves are woven into the fabric of the history of a place. We may not know what we are doing here or the effect our actions have on others, but, there we are—and history is made.
Leon Guerrero has taken the writings of the first assistant governor of Guam, US Navy Lieutenant William E. Safford, assigned to the newly acquired spoil of the Spanish-American War of 1898, and presents a piece that is visually a pleasure to look at and easy to read. In this first incarnation as an e-publication, the book is wonderfully interactive. Leon Guerrero has added links that take the reader to other websites, including her Guamology site and Guampedia.com, both of which feature entries that highlight Guam history and culture. These links give the reader or researcher additional information, such as images of plants, maps, or backstories of individuals mentioned in the text, all accessible “with the click of a mouse.” The book is further enriched with impressive artwork by local artist Dr. Judy Flores, whose renderings capture the events described by Safford, but delivered with an islander’s sensibility that is representative of Flores’ unique style.
In going through the pages and links, one finds a man weighted with the responsibility of governing a new territory with people as different from himself as he has ever encountered in his travels across the Pacific. In one passage Safford laments how ill-prepared he is to take on so many roles, but he must because the man officially assigned as governor, Captain Richard Leary, refuses to leave the USS Yosemite until the construction of his own house is completed. With a lack of training and an abundance of self-doubt, Safford understands that he must rely on the help and friendship of the people around him, from Padre José Bernardo Palomo y Torres, to paymaster Don Luís Torres, to his cook Doña Susana Perez. He writes,
“I cannot help feeling the responsibility of my situation; I feel poorly prepared to decide questions involving nice points of law, for, though I am judge, I have had no other legal training than that of sitting on courts-martial. My little codes of Spanish colonial law, civil, commercial, and criminal, are not much larger than prayer-books; and I can only do my best in deciding cases between the people under my charge. When I am in doubt I go to my dear old friend Father Palomo. That Governor does not like to be bothered; he tells me to do as I think best.”—W.E. Safford, 1899
It is this kind of vulnerability and personal reflection that allows the reader to connect so intimately with Safford and demonstrates the power of diaries and journals as sources of historical information that touch us more deeply than impersonal accounts of dates and events.
We love reading journals and diaries because they give us a peek into the life of an individual, to see the world through their eyes, to take in what they experience, consider the questions they contemplate and the thought processes that run through their minds. This kind of intimacy fascinates us, makes us curious, but also makes us reflect on our own lives. We compare our present to the writer’s past. We take in the details and the descriptions and the stories, as they present to us a world that may be long gone—but if we dig deeply enough, we can learn something about ourselves along the way.
Safford not only presents accounts of his stay, he also provides a rich description of the island, its topography and the abundance of plants that flourished on Guam, and his experiments with new plants in his own gardens. In this sense, the journal is also a botanist’s notebook, with scientific names and their Chamorro equivalents placed throughout the text. Some of the Chamorro names are no longer in use, which makes the discovery of the old terms fascinating and surprising. Fortunately for non-plant specialists, Leon Guerrero provides links with images to the various plant species about which Safford writes.
Students and researchers of history and culture, though, will be equally moved by Safford’s mostly sympathetic presentation of the Chamorro people, their character and their challenges as the island transitioned from centuries of Spanish colonialism to American military colonial rule. For example, he recounts the impact the arrival of American sailors and marines had on the people, from their racially disparaging remarks to public drunkenness and assault on Chamorros, to the shortage of food caused by having to feed these men. He writes of the executive orders that removed the Spanish priests and banned religious holidays, and other orders that barred unmarried couples from raising children together, causing people to get divorced (frowned upon by their Catholic faith) and to remarry in order to avoid penalties from the naval government. Stafford himself believed the best way to help the Chamorros sustain themselves better was to introduce the notion of capital and to register their land with the government. It is ironic, though, that the very culture, people and way of life Safford found so charming and worthy of maintaining were profoundly impacted by rules the US naval government imposed through these various executive orders—orders that were meant to remove all vestiges of Spanish Catholic influence and some important Chamorro traditions to make way for the Americanization of Guam.
Safford, though, is a man of his time and occupation, bound by his sense of duty but also by his impression that the Chamorros deserved better. He wrote,
“We may be accused of paternalism, but these people are like children in some respects and need a father’s care and love and guidance. In an island like this, where food can be produced in such abundance there is no reason why anybody should go hungry. What we want to do is to induce the natives to produce not only what they require for their own needs but a little more.”—W.E. Safford, 1899
Perhaps most interesting for some readers will be the stories of the individuals that walked into and out of Safford’s life, or rather, he in theirs. His position as judge, vice-governor, and everything else, and his open door policy were beneficial for getting to know people and gaining their respect and affection. Throughout the text are familiar names: Portusach, Quitugua, Martinez, Blaz, Perez. Fortunately, Leon Guerrero again provides links with references to these individuals and their descendants through the Guamology site. We see the personal connections and friendships he made with Padre Palomo, the first native Chamorro priest, and Don José Herrero, the “friend of the funny stories and happy fiddler;” the colorful cook, Doña Susana Perez, who took care of Safford’s meals and who cried inconsolably when Safford had to leave. So well-liked was Safford that even the houseboy Francisco, went out of his way to present him with two white hens as a parting gift. It is a testament to a man who was impressed by the Chamorro people but who also wanted to treat them with fairness and respect. He wrote,
“Nothing more beautiful than this island could be imagined; and no one could wish for more pleasant occupation nor for kinder friends. Above all, I feel it a privilege to be engaged in work which really counts—work in which I can be of some use to people who need me.”—W. E. Safford, 1899
As a teacher, student and fan of Guam history and culture, I believe Safford’s book, especially in electronic form, will be a good exercise for other students to engage in critical analysis of historical writing and discussing the role personal documents play in the study of history and anthropology. After all, the amount of energy and effort a writer makes in putting their thoughts into words and penning them on paper, and the conscious and unconscious decisions and motives to talk about some things and leave out details of others, should be part of the process of our reading and evaluating any kind of historical document. Safford’s journal gives us plenty of material for our consideration.
A Year on the Island of Guam 1899-1900 is a remarkable book—a journal, a scientist’s field notebook, a historical ethnography, a photo album and art book all rolled into one. Its simplicity in e-book form, though, belies its complexity. Leon Guerrero has meticulously collected images and information to enhance the book’s offerings for readers that would take up dozens if not hundreds of additional pages in a regular printed text—which may be a future endeavor. But for now, she presents us with a unique resource that takes advantage of informational technology and re-introduces turn of-the-century Guam to a potentially broader audience. Her effort brings back this important work and demonstrates how we ourselves are woven into the fabric of the history of a place. We may not know what we are doing here or the effect our actions have on others, but, there we are—and history is made.
Review of A Year on the Island of Guam eBook
by
Frank Quimby
Reflective dairies of U.S. colonial administrators chronicling their tenures in the Pacific are the rarest of source materials for students of the U.S. imperium, who typically must rely on documentation framed in terms of manifest destiny, benevolent assimilation and American exceptionalism.
William Edwin Safford’s A Year on the Island of Guam, however, is a highly personal, richly evocative and remarkably thoughtful account of his assignment as the first de facto colonial governor of Guam following the U.S. annexation of the island as spoils of the Spanish-American War.
First published serially in an obscure, now defunct U.S. botanical magazine in 1904-1905, this unique day-book description of the inception of American rule and Safford’s official and personal interaction with indigenous Chamorros is now readily available to researchers, students and the general public in eBook format. The digital volume is the latest product of Guamology, Inc. a Guam-based publishing company headed by local historian/genealogist Jillette Leon-Guerrero and specializing in titles about the island’s people and culture.
Safford’s observations are historically significant not only because of his unique vantage point during this seminal period in American-Chamorro relations but also because of his role, after he left the Navy, as the most influential public advocate for Guam’s Chamorro people in the United States during the first three decades of American rule.
The secret of Safford’s success as a chronicler/advocate was twofold: he was not a typical U.S. Navy lieutenant and did not especially care about a naval career; he was a polymath, whose naval service had enabled him to gain an extensive education in the sciences and languages; notable achievements as an ethnobotanist who discovered several plant species and genera; and considerable experience as an ethnographer, conversant with several Hispanicized societies in South America and how these cultures had been transformed under Spanish colonial rule.
Safford’s prolific output about Guam – several books, numerous articles and a number of lectures – included a history of the island, ethnography of the indigenous people and linguistic study of the Chamorro language, culminating in his compendium treatment, The Useful Plants of the Island Guam. Published in 1905, this deceptively titled volume masked the most comprehensive history, ethnography and botanical account of the Marianas available in the 20th century – a volume that still serves as a standard reference work.
Recognizing the continuing value of this magnum opus, Leon-Guerrero’s company published a large-format, hard-cover, facsimile edition of the original book in 2009. Her digital publication of his diary now provides readers an intimate view of Safford’s experiences on Guam, illuminating how and why he became so enamored of its people and their culture.
His erudition and powers of description provide a valuable etic account of the look, feel and rhythm of life on Guam at the end of the 19th century as well as a highly empathetic account of the Chamorro people. The eBook is illustrated with more than a dozen photographs of Guam scenes and people circa 1901, many taken by Safford. The publication also contains his study of the Chamorro language and an index of more than 100 local family names mentioned in the diary -- for contemporary islanders who are researching genealogies.
Leon Guerrero’s writing, editing and publishing initiatives reflect her passion for historical research, especially identifying the Hispanic origins of local families, and exemplify the proactive efforts of a generation of Marianas scholars who are reinterpreting the islands’ history in light of new theories and an expanding volume of source materials.
In addition to archival research, Leon Guerrero interviewed several of Safford’s descendants for this project, and received new information and material from them which she incorporated into the publication. Though Safford’s official title was Lt. Governor of Guam, she notes in the eBook’s introduction, Captain Richard Leary, the officially designated governor, remained aloof from the duties of his office, delegating most responsibilities and decisions to Safford, who was fluent in Spanish, took lessons in Chamorro and developed a close working relationship with a number of indigenous leaders.
These men, including Father Jose Palomo (the only Chamorro priest on the island), Don Juan de Torres and others, were not only a “kitchen cabinet” that regularly advised Safford on island affairs, but also served a consultative function that informed Safford’s (and hence the naval government’s) decisions, reflecting a degree of islander agency in shaping some early U.S. policies.
Safford’s tenure was not without controversy, as he and Leary sought to “reform” what they perceived as a society that had been “oppressed” by Spain and was “dominated” by Catholic clergy, overly focused on church rituals, lacking public infrastructure and whose “development” they averred was stymied by major landowning families who controlled large, unproductive tracks of land.
The expulsion of Spanish priests, restrictions on religious celebrations and introduction of a new land tax, among other controversial decrees, exacerbated naval relations with the island’s elite and led to substantial high-level stateside criticisms and a Presidential investigation of these policies. Absent U.S. Congressional action on the status of the Chamorros in the American polity, however, Washington provided the naval government with little guidance – and few restrictions – on how to devise colonial policies for securing the island and its valuable harbor for defense purposes.
Safford’s diary reveals his perspective and role in some of these controversial policies, but his affection for the Chamorro people and admiration of their Catholic faith, cultural development and arcadian resilience dominate his narrative. As Leon Guerrero points out, a group of Chamorro leaders secretly petitioned the U.S. Government to keep Safford in his position or reappoint him as the official governor, testifying to some degree that the affection was mutual.
William Edwin Safford’s A Year on the Island of Guam, however, is a highly personal, richly evocative and remarkably thoughtful account of his assignment as the first de facto colonial governor of Guam following the U.S. annexation of the island as spoils of the Spanish-American War.
First published serially in an obscure, now defunct U.S. botanical magazine in 1904-1905, this unique day-book description of the inception of American rule and Safford’s official and personal interaction with indigenous Chamorros is now readily available to researchers, students and the general public in eBook format. The digital volume is the latest product of Guamology, Inc. a Guam-based publishing company headed by local historian/genealogist Jillette Leon-Guerrero and specializing in titles about the island’s people and culture.
Safford’s observations are historically significant not only because of his unique vantage point during this seminal period in American-Chamorro relations but also because of his role, after he left the Navy, as the most influential public advocate for Guam’s Chamorro people in the United States during the first three decades of American rule.
The secret of Safford’s success as a chronicler/advocate was twofold: he was not a typical U.S. Navy lieutenant and did not especially care about a naval career; he was a polymath, whose naval service had enabled him to gain an extensive education in the sciences and languages; notable achievements as an ethnobotanist who discovered several plant species and genera; and considerable experience as an ethnographer, conversant with several Hispanicized societies in South America and how these cultures had been transformed under Spanish colonial rule.
Safford’s prolific output about Guam – several books, numerous articles and a number of lectures – included a history of the island, ethnography of the indigenous people and linguistic study of the Chamorro language, culminating in his compendium treatment, The Useful Plants of the Island Guam. Published in 1905, this deceptively titled volume masked the most comprehensive history, ethnography and botanical account of the Marianas available in the 20th century – a volume that still serves as a standard reference work.
Recognizing the continuing value of this magnum opus, Leon-Guerrero’s company published a large-format, hard-cover, facsimile edition of the original book in 2009. Her digital publication of his diary now provides readers an intimate view of Safford’s experiences on Guam, illuminating how and why he became so enamored of its people and their culture.
His erudition and powers of description provide a valuable etic account of the look, feel and rhythm of life on Guam at the end of the 19th century as well as a highly empathetic account of the Chamorro people. The eBook is illustrated with more than a dozen photographs of Guam scenes and people circa 1901, many taken by Safford. The publication also contains his study of the Chamorro language and an index of more than 100 local family names mentioned in the diary -- for contemporary islanders who are researching genealogies.
Leon Guerrero’s writing, editing and publishing initiatives reflect her passion for historical research, especially identifying the Hispanic origins of local families, and exemplify the proactive efforts of a generation of Marianas scholars who are reinterpreting the islands’ history in light of new theories and an expanding volume of source materials.
In addition to archival research, Leon Guerrero interviewed several of Safford’s descendants for this project, and received new information and material from them which she incorporated into the publication. Though Safford’s official title was Lt. Governor of Guam, she notes in the eBook’s introduction, Captain Richard Leary, the officially designated governor, remained aloof from the duties of his office, delegating most responsibilities and decisions to Safford, who was fluent in Spanish, took lessons in Chamorro and developed a close working relationship with a number of indigenous leaders.
These men, including Father Jose Palomo (the only Chamorro priest on the island), Don Juan de Torres and others, were not only a “kitchen cabinet” that regularly advised Safford on island affairs, but also served a consultative function that informed Safford’s (and hence the naval government’s) decisions, reflecting a degree of islander agency in shaping some early U.S. policies.
Safford’s tenure was not without controversy, as he and Leary sought to “reform” what they perceived as a society that had been “oppressed” by Spain and was “dominated” by Catholic clergy, overly focused on church rituals, lacking public infrastructure and whose “development” they averred was stymied by major landowning families who controlled large, unproductive tracks of land.
The expulsion of Spanish priests, restrictions on religious celebrations and introduction of a new land tax, among other controversial decrees, exacerbated naval relations with the island’s elite and led to substantial high-level stateside criticisms and a Presidential investigation of these policies. Absent U.S. Congressional action on the status of the Chamorros in the American polity, however, Washington provided the naval government with little guidance – and few restrictions – on how to devise colonial policies for securing the island and its valuable harbor for defense purposes.
Safford’s diary reveals his perspective and role in some of these controversial policies, but his affection for the Chamorro people and admiration of their Catholic faith, cultural development and arcadian resilience dominate his narrative. As Leon Guerrero points out, a group of Chamorro leaders secretly petitioned the U.S. Government to keep Safford in his position or reappoint him as the official governor, testifying to some degree that the affection was mutual.