fear of death, it was their belief that defeat would mean dungeons and
torture. After marching for some distance with all possible speed up
the Arroyo road, they stopped at the point selected. Instantly shovels,
pickaxes, crowbars and ropes were out of the supply wagon, and for a
few moments the sand flew as if electrified. Then the drivers yelled
like Apaches; the mules were stimulated by every art known to drivers;
and the swaying wagons headed for the ravine. At the brink many of the
frightened animals, twisting their necks back till they almost broke,
stopped short; but the men pushed them along, and down they all plunged,
floundering, biting and kicking. Across the deep, sandy bottom they
were driven or dragged amid shouts, curses and "hell let loose," as a
soldier put it; and then came the real struggle--the opposite ascent,
forty or fifty feet high. Wild with excitement, pain and fright, the
animals exerted every nerve, scrambling, jumping, rearing and panting;
the teamsters yelled and flogged; and the soldiers tugged and lifted
at the wheels, or pulled with hundreds of ropes. In a few minutes, as
it seemed, the incredible was done, and the command, forming on the
plateau as before, advanced. Already the Mexican horse were dashing on,
brandishing their lances in the sun, fluttering their bright pennons,
and waving a black flag decorated with a skull and crossbones; but, as
Doniphan did not appear to be making for El Torréon, they concluded to
halt, and let the infantry and artillery overtake them.[15.17]
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]
[Illustration: CALIFORNIA COAST
1846]
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]
[Illustration: NORTHERN CALIFORNIA]
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]