Chapter XVI: Appendix: (manuscript Sources) 565 (14)

It was now a little before three o'clock, and when enough ground had been gained so that the traders and teamsters could make the caravan into a fort, Major Clark's trumpeter sounded "Trot!" and Battery A emerged from the masking wagons. "Form battery, action front, load and fire at will!" rang out Weightman's clear voice; and at a range of about half a mile solid shot, chain-shot and shells, perfectly aimed, saluted the lancers, who had never listened to such music before. Three rounds, and they broke. With great efforts they were rallied, but the fourth round sent them flying to the camp; and Ponce de Léon, the hero of El Brazito, who had led the advance, also led the flight. The infantry, now exposed to the American fire, caught the panic, and at the sound of the cannon-balls men crouched or lay down.[15.17]

An artillery duel followed. Most of the Mexican projectiles, falling short and bounding once or twice, lost enough velocity to become visible, and the Americans--laughing till the tears furrowed their dusty cheeks--quickly became expert in dodging them. After a time, however, the Mexicans discontinued their fire; and Doniphan, as the last of the wagons had come up, did the same, wishing to form again and advance. Heredia now reoccupied his works; but the original defensive attitude could but very imperfectly be resumed, and the former confidence was gone. The whole plan of the battle had been blown to pieces, it was seen. The splendid fortifications now meant very little; the boasted cavalry were demoralized; the prospect of plundering the wagons had vanished, and the Brazito rout became a fact once more. Heredia ordered two guns to occupy the fort on Sacramento Hill, and rake the Americans from that elevated point; and several other pieces went there without orders, abandoning the redoubts. A great portion of the infantry leaked away, and soon Heredia did the same.[15.17]

The Americans felt correspondingly elated; and, obliquing toward the right in order to avoid the principal mass of the works and approach the ford, they moved on toward Forts N and O, into which Trias, observing their approach, now threw the best of his troops--the regular infantry and a part of the Second Durango squadron. "Storm the fort, storm the fort!" shouted the Americans; and at the proper distance Weightman and the howitzer section were ordered to charge the work at N, supported by the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson.[15.16] This order failed to reach Parsons and Hudson, but Reid and others advanced all the same. Unfortunately a deep gully was soon encountered in front of the fort, and the assailants found themselves at a loss. With a few backers Major Owens, who seems to have desired to die, rushed across, emptied his pistols into the midst of the enemy, and fell. Still others dismounted and skirmished. The howitzers, galloping to the left, succeeded in turning the gully, and unlimbered within fifty yards of the enemy, while a part of Reid's troopers, now supported by Hudson's, did the same, and then charged at O. Entrance to the fort was gained.[15.17]

But the enemy there and in the adjacent breastworks, proved too strong, and the Americans, veering again to the left, passed along the front of the fortifications, drawing their fire and shooting with some effect, but discovering no place for a serious blow. The fall of Owens, who was supposed by the Mexicans to be our leader, and the failure of the attack upon the fort encouraged the enemy. Trias and García Conde managed to rally some lancers for a charge, and artillerymen with two guns prepared to follow them. Before such odds a few of our howitzer force gave way.[15.17]

The rest did not. A round of canister scattered the lancers, and then a large body of Americans, rushing in at a gallop, threw themselves from their horses. Parsons' and Hudson's men joined them, and all pressed up the slope of O together, firing at will. The Mexicans learned quickly not to show their heads. Raising their muskets above the parapets at arm's length and blazing away without effect, they soon used up their ammunition. By this time the Americans, bravely aided by the howitzers, were near their goal. Rifles were dropped. A rush was made. "With a whoop and a yell and a plunge," wrote a soldier, "we were over into their fort, man to man, grappling in a merciless fray, neither giving nor receiving quarter." Six-shooters, knives and even stones were made to serve, and in a moment the fort was taken.[15.17]

Meantime Clark's guns had repulsed a body of cavalry that were making for the wagons, and then, in coöperation with Parsons and the force of dismounted troopers, he silenced and captured the works north of Fort O, while other troops took N, went down into the valley, and occupied the fortifications near the river. It was now five o'clock, and the battle had been gained. Yet not quite. The guns on Sacramento Hill, where many of the Mexican infantry and cavalry had taken refuge, were annoying, even though aimed so high as to do no actual harm; and Clark turned some pieces in that direction. The range was 1225 yards; but the first shot dismounted a cannon, and, as a soldier remarked, every shell knew its place. Soon Weightman took the howitzers across the river. A part of the Americans flanked the redoubt on one side by scaling the mountain, and then a wild gallop up the road on the other side to its rear ended the fighting. Pursuit followed, but under the first beams of the moon Doniphan's command re-assembled on the field of victory. Not a man had lost his life except Owens, and only five had been wounded. Of the Mexicans three hundred had been killed, it was thought, and an equal number wounded. Forty at least were captured, and also great numbers of horses, mules, sheep and cattle, and quantities of provisions and ammunition.[15.17]

[CHIHUAHUA TAKEN]

Further resistance was out of the question, for the Mexican army scattered, and the Presidials and National Guards fled to their homes;[15.18] and the next day Chihuahua, a city of about 14,000 inhabitants, was peaceably occupied. Obviously, however, this triumph did not end the difficulties of the Americans. To remain in the enemy's country with no prospect of reinforcement was perilous, yet the traders and their merchandise could not be left without protection, and the Mexicans were said to be in great force near Saltillo. Doniphan therefore undertook to make an arrangement with the state and city authorities that would free him from responsibility. But the negotiations failed, for while the officials did not refuse protection, they would not promise to remain neutral during the war, as Doniphan insisted; and Heredia proved no less obstinate.[15.19]

Doniphan then determined to retaliate and also appeal to their fears by marching for Durango, and by capturing on his way the town of El Parral, where Heredia and the state government had taken refuge. April 5, leaving about three hundred men to protect the merchants, he set out with the rest of his command, and in three days made fifty miles. Then he received notice that large Mexican forces were approaching, and at once retraced his steps. Concluding soon, however, that Doniphan had been hoaxed and no Mexicans were coming, the men grew impatient. Their term of service was to end on May 31; and as they had been poorly fed nearly all of the time, and for nine months had received no money from the government, they naturally felt dissatisfied.[15.19]

Doniphan seems to have renewed his negotiations, therefore, with the state authorities; but as large quantities of the merchandise had already been sold regularly or smuggled into circulation under the cover of night, he doubtless cared less about the matter than before. A Missouri trader named John Collins, who had undertaken with a party of thirteen fearless men to reach Wool and obtain instructions, returned on April 23 from his daring journey of more than a thousand miles, and in two sections the command set out for Saltillo a few days later. May 21, after a series of hardships and perils, a certain amount of lawlessness, and a little fighting with the Indians, they arrived near that point.[15.20] The next day Wool reviewed them. In honor of the occasion they tried to improve their appearance, but it still suggested a classic line, "The beggars have come to town." Some were dressed like the Mexicans and some like the Comanches, and all were described by their commander as "ragged."[15.21]

A few days later they were greeted by Taylor at Monterey; and finally, after passing down the Rio Grande and sailing to New Orleans, they regained Missouri, where they had for rewards a speech of congratulations from Senator Benton, the unstinted admiration of their fellow-citizens, a series of banquets and barbecues, and the consciousness of having aided certain American, Mexican and European traders to dispose of their wares. They had, however, done more than promote commerce. They had built a large stone into the edifice of American prestige in Mexico, and had gained for themselves a notable place in military history.[15.21]

XVI

THE CALIFORNIA QUESTION

1836-1846

Under Mexican rule California, the Golden West, was anything but golden. It was poor, shiftless and pitiful; unprotected, undeveloped, unenlightened, unconsidered; helpless and almost hopeless. Although the province extended from the Pacific to the Rocky Mountains, only a strip some fifty miles wide was occupied by white men, and but a small part of that fraction consisted of farms regularly owned. The famous missions, wrecked by the Mexican government, lay in ruins. In ten degrees of latitude there was but one considerable seaport, Monterey, a village of about one hundred small houses; and the only other sizable town, Los Angeles, contained some 1500 persons, with perhaps an equal number in places depending upon it. The total population in 1845 amounted probably to something like 10,000 whites, 5000 Indians in the stage of civilization represented by the breech-clout, and 10,000 other savages. The real inhabitants were the countless horses and cattle, which roamed for the most part at will. More than half bore the mark of a branding iron; but probably the greater number even of these rendered no service to humanity, and many had not even a technical owner.[16.4]

[THE CALIFORNIANS]

The Californians were genial, kindly, hospitable, faithful in their married life and gracefully polite; but in the view of many, if not the majority, courage and truthfulness were either follies or luxuries, and no element of practical efficiency entered into their composition. A man got up some time before noon. He would not work or even walk. He neither read nor thought. A monotonous diet of beef, beans, wine, brandy and chocolate, supplemented with cigarettes and a guitar, satisfied his appetite perfectly. What he demanded next was a horse. As an infant he had begun life with a ride to be baptized, and the saddle was his real home.[16.4]

Given a dashing steed with a long, flowing mane, an arching neck, a broad chest, full flanks, slender legs and the gentle but fiery eye that proved its Arabian descent, the Californian was fairly on the road to happiness; and when dressed up in his dark, glazed sombrero with a conical crown, wide brim and betasselled silver cord, his close blue jacket, flashy shawl (_serape_) and red sash--possibly fringed with gold--his loose trousers, decorated like his jacket with silver buttons and slashed below the knee to reveal snow-white drawers, his buckskin leggins and his mammoth spurs--as big as a small plate--he felt completely satisfied.[16.4]

He could lasso the foot of a running steer, ride one hundred and forty miles a day for a week at a time, or check a full gallop and turn round on a bullock's hide; and anybody less polite, gaudy, dexterous and lazy he pitied. That a cow could be milked without the aid of a calf, he was unable to imagine; but he could ride five hundred miles to a family reunion, and dance two days and nights without stopping except for something to eat and drink. A glass window and a board floor were usually beyond his means; but he could afford to pay 24 per cent interest, and throw his borrowed money away on cards and horse-races. The women were counterparts to the men. They were affectionate, loyal, generous. An orphan had its choice of mothers. But, had you entered the open door of a California house, you would probably have found its mistress either smoking on the bed with two or three dirty children about her, or dressed up with an extravagance that made her lord's game of monte seem economical.[16.4]

There was, however, a very different element in the population, composed of several nationalities but commonly named, and naming itself, "the foreigners." Some French and Germans could be found among them; the British--almost all of them naturalized--were still more numerous; but at the end of 1845 about three out of four were Americans. In 1822 a Boston trading vessel had, so to speak, discovered California, and from that date the business of collecting hides and bartering for them such manufactured articles as the people needed or could be induced to buy, was almost monopolized by New Englanders.[16.1] This naturally led a few shrewd, enterprising Americans--among whom were Thomas O. Larkin of Monterey, Abel J. Stearns of Los Angeles and Jacob Leese of Sonoma--to establish themselves in this new country as traders. Runaway sailors from the ships, hunters and trappers from the mountains, and occasional adventurers from almost anywhere, gradually introduced themselves.[16.4]

By 1836 the foreigners had become an important, if not always highly esteemed, element. In the autumn of 1840 some two hundred emigrants are said to have gone there from the Platte country, and in May, 1841, we know that about one hundred men and thirty women and children set out in that direction from Independence, Missouri. Many who undertook to settle in Oregon decided to exchange that wilderness for the more hospitable region close at hand. By August, 1844, our people were described by Larkin as "flocking" to California; and Whittier sang,

"By many a lonely river, and gorge of fir and pine,
On many a wintry hill-top, their nightly camp-fires shine."[16.4]

[AMERICANS IN CALIFORNIA]

Probably by the end of 1845 there were about eight hundred American residents--men, women and children--in the province.[16.2] Quite a number pushed on to the shore of San Francisco Bay, but most of them lived in the Sacramento valley, because immigrants from the United States naturally came to that region first, and because the Mexicans were too much afraid of the savages to settle there; and as a sort of base they had the fortified trading post of New Helvetia,[16.3] situated about a hundred miles from the coast on the site of the present Sacramento City, where Captain John A. Sutter--a German naturalized in Switzerland--received the wayfarers with an open purse, an open countenance and an open, hazy head.[16.4]

Some of the Americans took the trouble to go through the process of acquiring citizenship, and so could become the legal owners of land; but far the greater number were mere squatters, or else hung about the ranches of other Americans, working a little, hunting or trapping more, but mainly waiting for something to turn up. They were in general a rough-looking set: the vicious, devil-may-care sailor, the gaunt, awkward, ragged immigrant, and the heavily bearded, leather-coated hunter with his long hair turbaned in a colored handkerchief; and while some had excellent brains and hearts of gold, the scale ran down to a very low point. Little work and less law was the motto of not a few. Some of the lowest were out-and-out for blood and plunder; some of the best had practically the same thought--regarding California as a new Canaan, out of which they were appointed by Providence to drive the new Hittites, Hivites and Jebusites; and probably almost all agreed in despising the inefficiency of the native, his passion for dress and dancing, his guitar, his bland smile and his dainty politeness.[16.4]

With such and so meagre a population, scattered from San Diego to Sacramento, an air-line distance of about four hundred and fifty miles, the outlook for progress appeared uncertain enough; and California was also hampered by a state of chronic misgovernment and rebellion. In 1836 the people, aided by a few Americans and other foreigners, took up the same battle-cry as Texas, and raised the same blue flag illumined with a single star. The Mexican troops were expelled; and J. B. Alvarado, M. G. Vallejo and José Castro, all of them natives, assumed the control of the province. Two years later Bustamante recognized their government; but in 1843 Santa Anna sent up General Micheltorena, with soldiers that were mostly convicts and officers that were mostly debauchees, to restore the national supremacy. Countenanced and protected by their commander these men, instead of repressing the savages, harassed the people with insults, outrages and murders. At length, in November, 1844, Alvarado and Castro took up the sword;[16.5] and the following February, after some almost bloodless fighting, the Mexicans were driven out.[16.9]

Once more the government abjectly accepted a revolutionary situation, recognizing as governor the senior member of the provincial assembly, Pio Pico, and as comandante general José Castro, who had appointed himself to that position; and meantime her destroying the missions and selling their property (1835-44) seemed to emphasize these hints that California was virtually to be thrown away. It has practically been abandoned, wrote the German traveller, Löwenstern, in 1843; and this fact was rendered still clearer by the proposal of May, 1846, that England should take military possession of the province, which Bankhead, the British minister, described as "an indirect offer of sale," and by an explicit suggestion that Prussia occupy it. Mexico had substantially abdicated.[16.9]

In such a state of things the country could not advance. Indeed it was going backwards. The only source of revenue was the duties collected at Monterey, and this--amounting to $80,000 or $100,000 a year, and signifying the virtual confiscation of about one third of all the property in California--mostly disappeared in official pockets. No military force able to cope with the savages was maintained. In consequence of their incursions farms were being abandoned, and they even raided within the settlements. The laws were openly disregarded. There were practically no courts and no police, and each man had to defend his own person and property. No sort of regular postal facilities existed, and even communication with Mexico was rare and mostly by chance. The only carriage in the country had been one belonging to Micheltorena. There were no real schools, not a single newspaper, and of course hardly any books except in a very few hands.[16.9]

With gold in sight and actually seen, people did not look for it. In a region where the wild clover grew several feet high and a single grapevine would yield a barrel of juice, the government did nothing, and the citizens could do little, to promote the cultivation of the soil. With all the boundless coast of the Pacific waiting for horses, beef and lumber, droves of unbroken colts tossed their manes in a wilderness, beeves were slaughtered for their hides, and huge trees crashed to the ground amidst the stillness of an untenanted forest. Six-cent muslins cost fifty cents, and the coarsest of straw hats paid a duty of three dollars. If a man wanted a kettle mended, he looked for some one trained abroad; and even a child's torn skirt could not be patched without first getting a hank of thread from Boston.[16.9]

[MEXICAN RULE DETESTED IN CALIFORNIA]

Naturally the people felt dissatisfied, and their complaints reached far beyond the misbehaving soldiers. Every official professed intense loyalty in public, but that signified nothing. The people were determined to shake off Mexican authority. California will soon declare its independence, wrote the British minister at Mexico in 1841, while his French colleague, who was in close touch with the situation, believed it would merely be a question between England and the United States. California is almost ready to separate from the mother-country, concluded Sir George Simpson, governor-in-chief of the Hudson Bay Company, who was there a year later. As a rule the people are disaffected, it was directly reported in June, 1844. The principal men have decided, wrote Forbes, the British vice consul, in September, 1844, that progress under Mexican rule is impossible, and they will not have it. The Californians are unanimously determined to be rid of the Mexican military government, declared the British consul at Tepic, under whom Forbes acted, a few months later; and of course all Mexican rule was military. A separation is probably inevitable, concluded Lord Aberdeen, head of the British Foreign Office, at the end of the year. California "_must_ change owners," said a letter from that coast in July, 1845. "The people hardly care what Flag is exchanged for their own," stated a competent American observer two months later, while a Californian was predicting that the Stars and Stripes would certainly go up there.[16.9]

"The situation of Upper California will cause its separation from Mexico before many years," predicted Wilkes's book in 1845. The people of southern California are agreed to cut loose from Mexico, wrote a British admiral. "Mexican rule had become intolerable," concluded Walpole, a British officer in 1846. It had long been "only a shadow," said a young American, afterwards famous as General William T. Sherman; but it was a shadow that blighted. Another Mexican expedition would not be tolerated, said Larkin; and in fact a commissioner from California so notified the government. To get on at all with the people, a Mexican had to become Californian in head and in heart, and even then he was less welcome than an Englishman or an American.[16.9]

Nor were such opinions merely expressed--they were made known to Mexico. Many warnings, both official and private, went from California, and the province maintained commissioners at the capital, who presented information regarding the wholly unsatisfactory conditions existing there. That part of the country has been "forgotten for more than twenty years," wrote one of these commissioners to the war department in 1844; and the following year he said that it had been "injured by every one of our administrations." Alarms were sounded publicly in such newspapers as the London _Times_ and London _Chronicle_. Notices regarding the danger of American encroachment--particularly by the method of emigration, a declaration of independence and early annexation--were received over and over again from the Mexican minister at Washington, the Mexican consul at New Orleans, Pakenham, the British minister, and Bankhead, who succeeded him. This peril was notorious, declared General Mora y Villamil near the close of 1845; and the government itself recognized the gravity of the situation. In March of that year the minister of war and the minister of relations admitted publicly that California had been grossly misgoverned and was liable to slip away.[16.6] Yet the government did nothing, and confessed that nothing could be done.[16.9]

Virtually, we say again, it was abdication. Both morally and physically Mexico had thrown away and forever lost her control of the province. She had nothing left except the bare thread of legal proprietorship; and in certain cases legality is, according to enlightened modern ideas, nothing. It is our conviction that human welfare is the supreme test; and the welfare, not merely of California but of all the world, certainly required that so rich a portion of the earth should be developed and occupied. In our opinion a child, neglected and abused by drunken parents who are always fighting each other, has good grounds for leaving home, though not legally independent. We believe in the right of revolution, which means that when a country misgoverns persistently a considerable part of the population, it forfeits all claims to domineer over them; and California, though her weakness led officials to practice a lip service that deceived nobody, had more than once rebelled, had made good her cause, and entertained no thought of accepting Mexican rule again.[16.9]

She was, therefore, being in every way unable to establish herself as an independent nation and gain the recognition of the world as such, quite adrift. The province is now "at the mercy of whoever may choose to take possession of it," wrote the nearest British consul in 1845. Californians, Mexicans, Britons, French and Americans, who were qualified to judge, agreed on that. She was the homeless child, whom any kind, intelligent and well-to-do person may, and some kind, intelligent and well-to-do person should, provide for. Any one of the nations then leading the march of civilization, if disposed to perform a parent's duty toward California, could rightfully have taken charge of her, and some one of them was under obligation to do so.[16.7] Of those nations the United States was more favorably situated than any other to fulfil the trust,[16.8] and she felt ready to accept it.[16.9]

[THE AMERICANS INTERESTED IN CALIFORNIA]

Indeed our people were profoundly interested in the matter. As early as 1839 a Congressional report on Oregon said enough about the territory farther south to excite attention; and Forbes's history of California, published the same year, did much to fix it and create the fear that European powers might encroach there. The seizure of American residents in 1840, the appearance of Dana's "Two Years Before the Mast," and the incidents connected with Jones's landing at Monterey deepened these impressions. By 1842 glowing letters from American settlers began to appear in our newspapers, and the suspected purposes of England received ample notice. Gold existed there, it was reported; the country was attractive, salubrious and rich; the port of San Francisco had a value that words could not represent, and the British already held a mortgage on the country. Our Pacific whaling fleet was said by the New Bedford member of Congress to include before the end of 1844 six hundred and fifty vessels, which had cost twenty millions and employed 17,000 men; and not only was this harbor most important, since the bar at the Columbia River hampered navigation, but American control was needed there, for the uncertain and vexatious Mexican regulations caused great annoyance. Besides, it was pointed out, we required a fortified port on that coast, else in case of war with England our whalers would be unable to avoid capture.[16.10]

All these ideas took root, and in the spring of 1845 the press from New York to St. Louis and New Orleans broke into quite a furore about California. Its value became a popular subject; the known fact that English holders of Mexican bonds had their eyes upon it was recalled; the designs of the British government seemed to be clear; and annexation was not only urged, but represented as near at hand. So keen became the fear that England would forestall us, that in January, 1846, the ease with which she could acquire California was dwelt upon in our national Senate, while in the House the enormous advantages of our holding the territory attracted attention.[16.10]

Our government was even in advance of the people. In 1835 an attempt was made to purchase the Bay of San Francisco. The next year Ellis, who represented the United States at Mexico, expressed the opinion that northern California would be of "immense importance" to us. Four years later a personal letter to President Van Buren pointed out that England, as a great creditor of Mexico, was likely to appropriate the territory, and steps were taken to obtain information regarding it for the use of Congress and the Cabinet. Daniel Webster felt strongly by this time that we should acquire it. In 1842, while he was secretary of state, our minister at Mexico not only expatiated on the value of the territory, but reported that England had taken steps to anticipate us; and the minister was instructed to ascertain whether an offer from this country would be acceptable. Our strained relations with Mexico and especially Jones's occupation of Monterey made it unwise to follow up the matter that year; but after an interval, Tyler and Webster planned an arrangement which--had it been carried through--would have given us the port of San Francisco.[16.11]

The expansive course of Great Britain, remarks dropped by English writers, repeated warnings from our diplomatic and consular agents at Mexico, and the consensus of opinion in California, Mexico, France and the United States were quite enough to warrant suspicions of England, and the circumstances connected with the visit of Duflot de Mofras, attaché of the French legation at Mexico, to California, and the publication of his book by order of the king, hinted of danger from another quarter; but neither country took any positive action, and our government--doubtless noting that a tide of emigration to the far west had begun--refrained from every move that could excite the jealousy of Mexico or Europe. Early in 1843 Larkin, who was deficient in education but not in shrewdness, activity or patriotism, was appointed consul at Monterey; but the value of American commerce fully justified the step. During 1845 he did not receive one letter from the state department, and for a long time no American war vessel could be seen on the coast.[16.11]

[OUR GOVERNMENT INTERESTED]

Early in 1845, owing to the annexation of Texas, a breach with Mexico had seemed probable, and the danger that she would somehow dispose of California in order to place it beyond our reach had been deemed acute. But our government did not intend to have war, the tide of emigration to that quarter was rising, and Polk warned off European interference by re-asserting the "Monroe Doctrine." On July 10, 1845, however, Larkin wrote that England was maintaining there a vice consul without consular business, and that, according to the universal belief in his vicinity, she was promoting a new Mexican expedition to California; and at about the same time as this letter, news of an extensive British plan to colonize in that province arrived from London.[16.11]

The question was then maturely considered at Washington. Apparently the American emigrants, unless checked, were sure to bring California into the Union. That was natural and logical; such a peaceful invasion had given us Texas; and in the opinion of the best qualified observers it seemed likely to be efficacious again. Larkin, the Californians, the British vice consul, the Mexican consul at New Orleans, the Mexican minister at Washington, and Mexican, British, French and American journals agreed on this. Larkin believed the matter would be settled in that way by 1848. "Without striking a blow and without incurring any expense," wrote Vice Consul Forbes, the United States will obtain a secure foothold in the coveted region. The Americans do not need to fight for California, said _Le Constitutionnel_ of Paris. "No more convenient mode of conquest was ever devised," remarked the Baltimore _American_. To suppose that Polk and the Cabinet failed to see what was not only obvious but often pointed out, would be absurd. The condition and political feeling of California, which were quite well known through Larkin and others, fully warranted a procedure so amicable and so beneficial; and it only remained to guard against European interference, which our government now considered a real danger.[16.11]

On October 17, 1845, therefore, confidential instructions, based upon the fact that British and French consuls having no commercial business were maintained in California, were issued to Larkin, who was now to be confidential agent as well as consul. "The interests of our commerce and our whale fisheries in the Pacific Ocean demand," he was informed, "that you should exert the greatest vigilance in discovering and defeating any attempt, which may be made by foreign governments to acquire a control over that country," Against such an attempt the United States would "vigourously interpose"; but "should California assert and maintain her independence, we shall render her all the kind offices in our power"; and "whilst the President will make no effort and use no influence to induce California to become one of the free and independent states of this Union, yet if the people should desire to unite their destiny with ours, they would be received as brethren, whenever this can be done without affording Mexico just cause of complaint. Their true policy for the present in regard to this question, is to let events take their course, unless an attempt should be made to transfer them without their consent either to Great Britain or France." On the same day instructions to ascertain the designs of those powers were issued to Commodore Sloat, commanding the Pacific squadron, and Lieutenant Gillespie of the Marine Corps was ordered to California as a co-agent with Larkin.[16.11]

All this has been called an intrigue; but, if that word is in fairness applicable, the "intrigue" was only designed, so far as it concerned Mexico and California, to rescue with a gentle hand the neglected, abused and lost; so far as it concerned England and France, to ward off an interposition which, if attempted, would probably have led to war; and, so far as it concerned the United States, to safeguard and advance most important national interests while promoting the general good of the world. Such "intrigues" are among the most legitimate achievements of true statecraft.[16.11]

This leads us to the more serious charge, that Polk brought upon two nations the curse of war and endangered the peace of the world, for the purpose of tearing California from the parent stem; and we find ourselves here at the best point of view from which to consider it. Not only, then, have we no sound evidence in support of the charge; not only was he personally unfitted to play the rôle of conqueror; not only did he exert himself to restore friendly relations with Mexico; not only did he virtually forbid Slidell to work for the sale of California, if so doing would militate against this endeavor; not only did his taking certain other important steps and refraining from still others imply the same intentions; but it appears that he looked forward to obtaining the territory without war, should he be unable to purchase it, by a method peculiarly suited to his characteristics and to those of Buchanan. We therefore do not need to consider one of our Presidents a wretch unhung, as many Americans have seemed eager to do, and should finally dismiss the charge.[16.12]

[A CHANGE OF RULE IMMINENT]

While the instructions to Larkin were on their way, the year 1846 came in, and to California it brought fresh perplexities. The desire to escape from what a citizen described as "a positive state of anarchy" was more pronounced than ever. One plan contemplated a French protectorate; but the men of that nationality were few, their government did nothing, and their consul exerted himself only to acquire unpopularity. A much greater number favored American control. Probably all of the foreigners thought such a régime preferable to the existing state of things. Even the British vice consul admitted that his personal judgment pointed in that direction. Some of the Californians also leaned our way. They recognized the merits of our institutions and the growth of our power. The good order maintained by Commodore Jones's forces had left a favorable impression, and so had the conduct of our naval officers who went ashore from time to time.[16.16]

But the participation of Americans in the California revolts had excited suspicion and fear. Our acquisition of Texas, as described by Mexicans writers, had been resented, and probably it was known that Mexicans residing there had fared none too well. American hunters--or men believed to be such--had sometimes helped themselves to property. In consequence very likely of misdeeds committed by our sailors the Americans were generally disliked at Monterey. The constantly increasing immigration despite Mexican laws appeared intrusive and menacing. All the faults of our people, who were better known than other foreigners, came to be understood. Their brusque, overbearing, strenuous ways impressed the polite, indolent Californians as almost ferocious. Indeed a natural antipathy--social, religious and racial--made harmony well-nigh impossible. Finally, doubts were felt whether we should be able to offer immediate and effective protection against Mexico and the Indians, and whether our flag would not go down after a time, as when Jones had raised it, leaving our friends to settle with the mother-country as best they could.[16.16]

The British, on the other hand, while in every way as free and as responsible as the Americans, were comparatively exempt from such objections; their government had a strong fleet in the Pacific; and hence, as was natural, most of the substantial citizens--especially in the south--desired the shelter of her flag. But Forbes could not meet their views. Warned not to meddle, save to hinder any other nation from establishing a protectorate, he could make no promises and give no encouragement. He conveyed to the government of California the declaration of England that she would feel greatly displeased to have the province pass under the control of any other power, but his only advice was to elude American rule by declaring unqualified independence; and this plan, as all thoughtful men understood, could not be carried out.[16.16]

Governor Pico, a fat, swarthy, good-natured farmer of tolerably good sense but little ability, and educated only about enough to write his name, was the chief of the British party, and wanted no Americans in the country. Vallejo--who was now inactive but had great influence--favored the Americans, for he believed that we held the winning cards, and foresaw, like many other landowners, that American rule would enhance the value of real estate. Castro, a man of quick but not profound intelligence and more ambitious for power and fame than for wealth, probably desired independence with himself as the autocrat; but he knew the time had not arrived, and felt that his grip on the customhouse must not be loosened. For the present, therefore, while he showed much amiability toward the Americans and occasionally masked his real views behind cordiality toward France, he posed at Mexico as an ardent patriot. In order to save his responsibility, whatever might happen, and perhaps fortify his position, he urged the need of preparing for war against the United States, and called for plenty of money and a few soldiers--not more than he could be sure of handling. At the same time, holding that Pico was only an acting governor, he recommended that during the crisis, at least, the civil authority should be united with the military. In March he invited a number of leading citizens to discuss the situation with him,[16.13] but no agreement on a line of action could be reached.[16.16]

Forbes congratulated himself that no American of commanding influence, familiar with the language, customs and prejudices of the people, resided in California; but Larkin seems to have been on good terms with all the officials at least. His firm chin, ample brow and correct side-whiskers inspired respect, while his notable energy, hospitality and public spirit gained him esteem; and when Gillespie, after crossing Mexico to Mazatlán in the guise of a mercantile agent and then sailing perforce to the Hawaiian Islands,[16.14] arrived at Monterey on April 17, and repeated to him from memory Buchanan's instructions of precisely six months before, which it had not been thought safe to bring in writing, he promptly bestirred himself. The main points of his instructions were transmitted in confidence to friends at other towns; here and there an official had an opportunity to see a good argument, written out in Spanish, for American rule; and Castro was assured that he and his friends might derive personal advantages from such a change.[16.16]

[A CRASH AT HAND]

As if all these currents and cross-currents did not produce commotion enough, civil war now loomed up. Both Los Angeles and Monterey desired to be the capital and possess the customhouse. Herrera had assigned two thirds of the revenue to Pico and one third to Castro; but Paredes reversed this arrangement, and Castro improved still further upon it by taking the whole. In April the comandante general and his officers repudiated Herrera, on whom Pico's authority depended, came out for Paredes, and resolved to propose, on the ground of Mexico's threatening relations with the United States, that the governor should place himself in Castro's power by coming to Monterey--the latter, in case of a refusal, to act according to his discretion.[16.16]

Pico, who doubtless knew as well as others, that Castro was aiming to upset him, appealed to the people and summoned a general convention, which was to meet at Santa Barbara on June 15, and avert the "external and internal disasters" that were threatening California. The promoters of the scheme intended to audit Castro's use of the public funds, declare for independence, and invite foreign protection--preferably that of England. Castro denounced it as treasonable, defeated it by preventing the northern delegates from going to Santa Barbara,[16.15] and proclaimed martial law; and about the middle of June Pico advanced against him with all the forces he could raise. It seemed as if a crash would have to come; and a crash did come.[16.16]

XVII

THE CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA

1846-1847

In December, 1845, Brevet Captain John C. Frémont of the United States army, who was engaged with a party of about fifty or sixty men--necessarily armed but not soldiers--in looking for a satisfactory road to the Pacific, reached New Helvetia, and at the end of January he presented himself at Monterey to obtain funds and supplies, and ask for permission to recruit his followers and horses in California. Castro gave this permission; but unfortunately one of the two men either misunderstood or violated the terms of the agreement, and when the surveying party was discovered early in March near Monterey, Castro denounced Frémont as having invaded Mexican territory and aiming to excite a revolt.[17.1]

It was an admirable opportunity to figure at home and at Mexico as a dauntless patriot, and the comandante general made the most of it. His narrow but high forehead, framed with curling black hair, seemed to expand, and his brilliant black eyes darted fire, as he galloped about the countryside rallying militia. Frémont placed himself in a strong position, built some fortifications, raised the American flag and announced that he would perish fighting; but after cannon were seen in the distance he retired under cover of darkness, and slowly proceeded toward Oregon. Castro then put out a bombastic proclamation, of course, declaring that he had driven the American intruder away.[17.1]

[THE "BEAR" MOVEMENT]

Far to the north Frémont was overtaken early in May by Gillespie, and went back to the Sacramento.[17.2] On June 6 he decided to act. At his instance Americans captured a drove of horses that Castro had sent for. Some days later a sizable company took Sonoma, a military post north of San Francisco Bay, seized the cannon, arms and munitions, appropriated horses, cattle and miscellaneous property, carried away Vallejo and other leading citizens as prisoners, and raised a home-made flag decorated with a particularly home-made semblance of a bear. Some hostilities then occurred; some blood was shed; and early in July the tragi-comedy reached its climax in a declaration of independence, which probably not one Californian acclaimed.[17.6]

What could have precipitated such an astounding performance? Clearly no directions from our government.[17.3] A policy calculated, not to outrage and affright, but on the other hand to conciliate and win the people, had been enjoined upon Sloat, Larkin and Gillespie; and under Buchanan's order Gillespie had acquainted Frémont with Larkin's instructions. But Frémont, like the others, was to counteract foreign designs, and knowing--for Larkin was aware of the fact on April 17 and hence Gillespie knew it--that Slidell had been rejected, he said and presumably believed, that war had by this time begun; and he doubtless feared that England, supposably in collusion with Mexico, would try to occupy California before the United States could act there. Forbes, on behalf of the British, could see that a declaration of independence would keep the Americans out. Hence possibly Frémont argued that such a step would help to do as much for the British; and evidently a flag put up by himself could be lowered any day.[17.6]

Besides, as we learn from the President, Gillespie had secret instructions; and these, while not contradicting the others, very possibly stated that Polk was determined to have a complete settlement with Mexico, and in case of war to acquire California, for such was soon his policy; and presumably they ordered that Frémont should hover about, and be ready to coöperate at the proper time. These circumstances, taken together, presented to his roving imagination a brilliant vista of achievements and glory; and, as he said, he "resolved to move forward on the opportunity."[17.4] Moreover many of the Americans in the Sacramento valley, believing that Castro intended to expel them shortly from the country, appealed to Frémont for aid;[17.5] and, finally, that officer probably burned to vindicate himself as a soldier from the imputation of having run away in March. Hence the determination to overthrow the government. Cannon, munitions and horses were logical necessities; and it seemed likely that Vallejo and his friends could be used to influence the public or possibly at the worst as hostages.[17.6]

The Californians, however, did not relish Frémont's total disregard of their feelings and rights. They viewed the Bear uprising as an inexcusable outrage--predatory, murderous and cruel, and, since Frémont was an American army officer, as fully justifying every suspicion and fear entertained against our government. The exasperation was intense; the resentment bitter. Who could think his person or property safe under the law of the rifle enforced by robbers? they asked. To make the situation worse Frémont, under the pretence that he was getting ready for the long journey home, obtained munitions and supplies from the United States vessel of war _Portsmouth_, anchored at San Francisco; and this fact became publicly known. Larkin was kept entirely in the dark, but probably not one Californian thought so. In short, the plan of the government was completely upset. Moreover Frémont's operations tended to defeat his own aim also, for they enabled Pico to solicit British protection on a definite and substantial ground.[17.6]

These events, however, were soon eclipsed. June 24, 1845, instructions for his guidance, in view of our strained relations with Mexico, had been issued to Commodore Sloat of the Pacific squadron. He was told that he should be "assiduously careful to avoid any act, which could be construed as an act of aggression"; yet, should he ascertain "with certainty"--"beyond a doubt"--that Mexico had "declared war," he was to occupy San Francisco and occupy or blockade such other ports as he could. In consequence of this order Sloat, so he reported in November, proceeded to Mazatlán as the likeliest place to receive information;[17.7] and on May 17 he learned from United States Consul Parrott of Mazatlán, then at Guadalajara, of Thornton's defeat. Upon this he decided to execute his orders immediately; but on considering the June instructions again, he thought action was not warranted.[17.8] May 31 came news of Palo Alto and the Resaca, and on June 5 confirmation of the news. That hostilities had begun he felt no doubt; but, "sicklied o'er" with something that resembled thought "as the mist resembles rain," and with an anxiety about his personal fortunes that obscured national interests, his resolution still wavered. On the seventh of June, however, he learned from Surgeon Wood, recently of the squadron but now on his way home with Parrott _via_ Mexico City, that the Mexican government admitted the battles had occurred, and learned also that an American fleet was blockading Vera Cruz. The next day he sailed; and on July 2 he was in Monterey harbor,[17.9] fourteen hundred miles to the northwest, where for some strange reason he made the usual call on the authorities.[17.15]

Larkin, with whom the Commodore had been instructed to confer, soon hastened aboard, and opened Sloat's astonished eyes to the situation. They agreed--for their instructions agreed--that kindness toward the people was to characterize all action; but Larkin, who did not believe war had begun, wanted action postponed, hoping that American rule would be invited, or at least welcomed, by the Californians,[17.10] while Sloat--though doubtless he now learned of the government's plan to acquire the province through immigration and a period of independence--remembered that he was under orders to occupy or blockade the ports without unnecessary delay, and perceived that the state of things called upon him to take immediate possession of the interior also, regarding which no instructions had been given him.[17.11] News that an American officer, to whom another officer had recently been sent from Washington, was apparently conducting hostilities at a distance from the sea appeared like a clue to the maze;[17.12] and, finally, after several days of anxious and wavering deliberation, the idea that Sir George Seymour, admiral of the British Pacific fleet, who had seemed to be watching his movements,[17.13] might appear at any hour and raise the British flag, drove him into action.[17.15]

July 7, as the sun rose above the mountains on the east, Monterey in its amphitheatre of pine-clad hills, with trim-looking white and balconied houses dotted along its two parallel streets among the trees and along the waters of the broad cove, which lay rippling at its very feet, presented a very attractive appearance, but certainly was insignificant enough. Not so, however, what occurred there. Old Captain Silva, the commandant, when invited at half-past seven to give up the town, replied that he and the troops had left the place, and there was nothing--not even a flag--to surrender; and at about half-past ten Captain Mervine with some two hundred and fifty sailors and marines landed from boats.[17.15]

[SLOAT OCCUPIES MONTEREY]

Marching to the little customhouse Mervine read a proclamation drawn by Sloat and Larkin. The United States and Mexico being now at war, I take possession of upper California, said the Commodore in effect, but I do so as her best friend; the territory becomes a part of the United States, and the people shall be protected in all their present rights; they may stay here as neutrals, or depart; they may choose their own officials; products of the United States will come in duty-free, and other articles pay one quarter of the Mexican rate; civil security, religious freedom and material prosperity will be the fruits of American rule.[17.14] The Stars and Stripes were then run up on the customhouse flagstaff, our men--both afloat and ashore--cheered, the boom of twenty-one guns from the _Savannah_ filled the amphitheatre of hills, and the great province of California had a future. By July 14 our colors were flying at every important point, and the Bear ensign had vanished. Stringent orders to prevent misbehavior and plundering were issued; measures were adopted to support the flag and repress the Indians; and Frémont was earnestly invited to coöperate.[17.15]

Both Sloat and Larkin endeavored to bring Castro in, but he would not come; and he retorted by demanding an explanation of the Sonoma affair. Doubtless that episode had thoroughly angered him, and he felt besides that a man in his official position would not be forgiven by the people, should he condone it. Alvarado and Pico, both of whom were cordially addressed, held entirely aloof; and before long the governor and the comandante general, forced into a reconciliation by Frémont's operations, united their commands. But as the people of northern California generally, thankful to escape from the clutches of the Bear and pleased with Sloat's proclamation, appeared willing to accept the change of flags, these two leaders withdrew to the vicinity of Los Angeles, where with about eight hundred men and ten cannon they supported--or pretended to support--the cause of Mexico; and the situation was further clarified by Admiral Seymour, who arrived at Monterey on July 16, and a week later, admitting that he could not interfere, sailed away.[17.15]

July 23 Sloat, who felt ill and probably felt worried, turned over the command on shore to Robert F. Stockton, who had arrived in the _Congress_ about a week before,[17.16] and some days later, giving up the squadron also, left the coast. The new Commodore seems to have been a smart, but vain, selfish, lordly and rampant individual, thirsting for glory; and little glory could be seen in following after his predecessor under so mild a policy. Besides, another character was now on the stage. July 19 about one hundred and sixty horsemen entered Monterey from the north--men with gaunt bodies, frames of steel, shaggy beards, and an air of indomitable courage and endurance, armed with a long, heavy rifle on the shoulder and a big knife on the hip, and speaking a lingo sometimes hard to understand. These were the youngest and hardiest of the Sacramento men, reinforced with the pick of the immigrants just arrived. At their head rode a short, slender, active man in buckskin blouse, leggings and moccasins, a blue shirt open at the neck, and a cotton handkerchief in lieu of a hat, with plenty of hair, a small, bearded face, and therein eyes--"such eyes." This was Frémont.[17.20]