All told, Fremont's expedition numbered barely threescore men--no
great force, surely, with which to overthrow a government and win an
empire. In advance of the little column rode the four Delaware braves
whom Fremont had brought with him from the East to act as scouts and
trackers, and whose cunning and woodcraft he was willing to match
against that of the Indians of the plains. Close on their heels rode the
Pathfinder himself, clad from neck to heel in fringed buckskin, at his
belt a heavy army revolver and one of those vicious, double-bladed
knives to which Colonel Bowie, of Texas, had already given his name, and
on his head a jaunty, broad-brimmed hat, from beneath which his long,
yellow hair fell down upon his shoulders. At his bridle arm rode Kit
Carson, the most famous of the plainsmen, whose exploits against the
Indians were even then familiar stories in every American household.
Behind these two stretched out the rank and file of the
expedition--bronze-faced, bearded, resolute men, well mounted, heavily
armed, and all wearing the serviceable dress of the frontier.
Fremont found the American settlers scattered through the interior in a
state of considerable alarm, for rumors had reached them that the
Mexican Government had decided to drive them out of the country, and
that orders had been issued to the provincial authorities to incite the
Indians against them. As they dwelt for the most part in small, isolated
communities, scattered over a great extent of country, it was obvious
that, if these rumors were true, their lives were in imminent peril.
They had every reason to expect, moreover, that the news of war between
Mexico and the United States would bring down on them those forms of
punishment and retaliation for which the Mexicans were notorious. They
were confronted, therefore, with the alternative of abandoning the homes
they had built and the fields they had tilled and seeking refuge in
flight across the mountains, or of remaining to face those perils
inseparable from border warfare. Nor did it take them long to decide
upon resistance, for they were not of the breed which runs away.
Leaving most of his men encamped in the foot-hills, Fremont pushed on to
Monterey, then the most important settlement in Upper California, and
the seat of the provincial government, where he called upon Don Jose
Castro, the Mexican commandant, explained the purposes of his
expedition, and requested permission for his party to proceed northward
to the Columbia through the San Joaquin valley. This permission Castro
grudgingly gave, but scarcely had Fremont broken camp before the
Mexican, who had hastily gathered an overwhelming force of soldiers and
vaqueros, set out upon the trail of the Americans with the avowed
purpose of surprising and exterminating them. Fortunately for the
Americans, Consul Larkin, getting wind of Castro's intended treachery,
succeeded in warning Fremont, who instead of taking his chances in a
battle on the plains against a greatly superior force, suddenly occupied
the precipitous hill lying back of and commanding Monterey, known as the
Hawk's Peak, intrenched himself there, and then sent word to Castro to
come and take him. Although the Mexican commander made a military
demonstration before the American intrenchments, he was wise enough to
refrain from attempting to carry a position of such great natural
strength and defended by such unerring shots as were Fremont's
frontiersmen. Four days later Fremont, feeling that there was nothing to
be gained by holding the position longer, and confident that the
Mexicans would be only too glad to see his back, quietly broke camp one
night and resumed his march toward Oregon.
Scarcely had he crossed the Oregon line, however, before he was
overtaken by a messenger on a reeking horse, who had been despatched by
Consul Larkin to inform him that an officer with urgent despatches from
Washington had arrived at Monterey and was hastening northward to
overtake him. Fremont immediately turned back, and on the shores of the
Greater Klamath Lake met Lieutenant Archibald Gillespie, who had
travelled from New York to Vera Cruz by steamer, had crossed Mexico to
Mazatlan on horseback, and had been brought up the Pacific coast to
Monterey in an American war-ship. The exact contents of the despatches
with which Gillespie had been intrusted will probably never be known,
for having reason to believe that his mission was suspected by the
Mexicans, and being fearful of arrest, he had destroyed the despatches
after committing their contents to memory. These contents he
communicated to Fremont, and the fact that the latter immediately turned
his horse's head Californiawards is the best proof that they contained
definite instructions for him to stir up the American settlers to revolt
and so gain California for the Union by what some one has aptly
described as "neutral conquest."
The news of Fremont's return spread among the scattered settlers as
though by wireless, and from all parts of the country hardy, determined
men came pouring into camp to offer him their services. But his hands
were tied. His instructions from Washington, while ordering him to lend
his encouragement to an insurrectionary movement, expressly forbade him
to take the initiative in any hostilities until he received word that
war with Mexico had been declared--and that word had not yet come. These
facts he communicated to the settlers. Fremont's assurance that the
American Government sympathized with their aspirations for independence,
and could be counted upon to back up any action they might take to
secure it, was all that the settlers needed. On the evening of June 13,
1846, some fifty Americans living along the Sacramento River met at the
ranch of an old Indian-fighter and bear-hunter named Captain Meredith,
and under his leadership rode across the country in a northwesterly
direction through the night. Dawn found them close to the presidio of
Sonoma, which was the residence of the Mexican general Vallejo and the
most important military post north of San Francisco. Leaving their
horses in the shelter of the forest, the Americans stole silently
forward in the dimness of the early morning, overpowered the sentries,
burst in the gates, and had taken possession of the town and surrounded
the barracks before the garrison was fairly awake. General Vallejo and
his officers were captured in their beds, and were sent under guard to
a fortified ranch known as Sutter's fort, which was situated some
distance in the interior. In addition to the prisoners, nine field-guns,
several hundred stands of arms, and a considerable supply of ammunition
fell into the hands of the Americans. The first blow had been struck in
the conquest of California.
The question now arose as to what they should do with the town they had
captured, for Fremont had no authority to take it over for the United
States, or to muster the men who took it into the American service. The
embattled settlers found themselves, in fact, to be in the embarrassing
position of being men without a country. After a council of war they
decided to organize a _pro-tem_. government of their own to administer
the territory until such time as it should be formally annexed to the
United States. I doubt if a government was ever established so quickly
and under such rough-and-ready circumstances. After an informal ballot
it was announced that William B. Ide, a leading spirit among the
settlers, had been unanimously elected governor and commander-in-chief
"of the independent forces"; John H. Nash, who had been a justice of the
peace in the East before he had emigrated to California, being named
chief justice of the new republic.
For a full-fledged nation not to have a flag of its own was, of course,
unthinkable; so, as most of its citizens were hunters and adventurers,
when some one suggested that the grizzly bear, because of its
indomitable courage and tenacity and its ferocity when aroused, would
make a peculiarly appropriate emblem for the new banner, the suggestion
was adopted with enthusiasm and a committee of two was appointed to put
it into immediate execution. A young settler named William Ford, who had
been imprisoned by the Mexicans in the jail at Sonoma, and who had been
released when his countrymen captured the place; and William Todd, an
emigrant from Illinois, were the makers of the flag. On a piece of
unbleached cotton cloth, a yard wide and a yard and a half long, they
painted the rude figure of a grizzly bear ready to give battle. This
strange banner they raised, at noon on June 14, amid a storm of cheers
and a salute from the captured cannon, on the staff where so recently
had floated the flag of Mexico, and from it the Bear Flag Republic took
its name.
Scarcely had Fremont received the news of the capture of Sonoma and the
proclamation of the Bear Flag Republic than word reached him that a
large force of Mexicans was on its way to retake the town. Disregarding
his instructions from Washington, and throwing all caution to the
winds, Fremont instantly decided to stake everything on giving his
support to his imperilled countrymen. His own men reinforced by a number
of volunteers, he arrived at Sonoma after a forced march of thirty-six
hours, only to find the Bear Flag men still in possession. The number of
the enemy, as well as their intentions, had, it seems, been greatly
exaggerated, the force in question being but a small party of troopers
which Castro had despatched to the Mission of San Rafael, on the north
shore of San Francisco Bay, to prevent several hundred cavalry remounts
which were stabled there from falling into the hands of the Americans.
Realizing the value of these horses to the settlers in the guerilla
campaign, which seemed likely to ensue, Fremont succeeded in capturing
them after a sharp skirmish with the Mexicans. Hurrying back to Sonoma,
he learned that during his absence Ide and his men had repulsed an
attack by a body of Mexican regulars, under General de la Torre,
reinforced by a band of ruffians and desperadoes led by an outlaw named
Padilla, inflicting so sharp a defeat that the only enemies left in that
part of the country were the scattered fugitives from this force; these
being hunted down and summarily dealt with by the frontiersmen. Having
now irrevocably committed himself to the insurgent cause, and feeling
that, if he were to be hanged, it might as well be for a sheep as for a
lamb, Fremont decided on the capture of San Francisco. The San Francisco
of 1846 had little in common with the San Francisco of to-day, remember,
for on the site where the great Western metropolis now stands there was
nothing but a village consisting of a few-score adobe houses and the
Mexican presidio, or fort, the latter containing a considerable supply
of arms and ammunition. Accompanied by Kit Carson, Lieutenant Gillespie,
and a small detachment of his men, Fremont crossed the Bay of San
Francisco in a sailing-boat by night, and took the Mexican garrison so
completely by surprise that they surrendered without firing a shot. The
gateway to the Orient was ours.
Fremont now prepared to take the offensive against Castro, who was
retreating on Los Angeles, but just as he was about to start on his
march southward a messenger brought the great news that Admiral Sloat,
having received word that hostilities had commenced along the Rio
Grande, had landed his marines at Monterey, and on July 7, to the
thunder of saluting war-ships, had raised the American flag over the
presidio, and had proclaimed the annexation of California to the Union.
When the Bear Flag men learned the great news they went into a frenzy of
enthusiasm; whooping, shouting, singing snatches of patriotic songs,
and firing their pistols in the air. Quickly the standard of the
fighting grizzly was lowered and the flag of stripes and stars hoisted
in its place, while the rough-clad, bearded settlers, who had waited so
long and risked so much that this very thing might come to pass, sang
the Doxology with tears running down their faces. As the folds of the
familiar banner caught the breeze and floated out over the flat-roofed
houses of the little town, Ide, the late chief of the three-weeks
republic, jumping on a powder barrel, swung his sombrero in the air and
shouted: "Now, boys, all together, three cheers for the Union!" The
moist eyes and the lumps in the throats brought by the sight of the old
flag did not prevent the little band of frontiersmen from responding
with a roar which made the windows of Sonoma rattle.
Now, as a matter of fact, Admiral Sloat had placed himself in a very
embarrassing position, for he had based his somewhat precipitate action
in seizing California on what he had every reason to believe was
authentic news that war between the United States and Mexico had
actually begun, but which proved next day to be merely an unconfirmed
rumor. If a state of war really did exist, then both Sloat and Fremont
were justified in their aggressions; but if it did not, then they might
have considerable difficulty in explaining their action in commencing
hostilities against a nation with which we were at peace. So Sloat began
"to get cold feet," asserting that he was forced to act as he had
because he had received reliable information that the British, whose
fleet was lying off Monterey, were on the point of seizing California
themselves. Fremont, on his part, claimed to have acted in defence of
the American settlers in the interior, who without his assistance would
have been massacred by the Mexicans. At this juncture Commodore Stockton
arrived at Monterey in the frigate _Congress_, and as Sloat was now
thoroughly frightened and only too glad to transfer the responsibility
he had assumed to other shoulders, Stockton, who was the junior officer,
asked for and readily obtained permission to assume command of the
operations. Fremont, who had reached Monterey with several hundred
riflemen, was appointed commander-in-chief of the land forces by
Stockton, and was ordered to embark his men on one of the war-ships and
proceed at once to capture San Diego, at that time by far the most
important place in California. Stockton himself, after raising the
American flag over San Francisco and Santa Barbara, sailed down the
coast to San Pedro, the port of Los Angeles, where he disembarked a
force of bluejackets and marines for the taking of the latter city,
within which the Mexican commander, General Castro, had shut himself up
with a considerable number of troops, and where he promised to make a
desperate resistance.
As Stockton came marching up from San Pedro at the head of his column he
was met by a Mexican carrying a flag of truce and bearing a message from
Castro warning the American commander in the most solemn terms that if
his forces dared to set foot within Los Angeles they would be going to
their own funerals. "Present my compliments to General Castro," Stockton
told the messenger, "and ask him to have the kindness to have the church
bells tolled for our funerals at eight o'clock to-morrow morning, for at
that hour I shall enter the city." Upon receipt of this disconcerting
message Castro slipped out of Los Angeles that night, without firing a
shot in its defence, and at eight o'clock on the following morning,
Stockton, just as he had promised, came riding in at the head of his
men.
After garrisoning the surrounding towns and ridding the countryside of
prowling bands of Mexican guerillas, Stockton officially proclaimed
California a Territory of the United States, instituted a civil
government along American lines, and appointed Fremont as the first
Territorial governor. Before the year 1846 had drawn to a close these
two Americans, the one a rough-and-ready sailor, the other a youthful
and impetuous soldier, assisted by a few hundred marines and
frontiersmen, had completed the conquest and pacification of a territory
having a greater area and greater natural resources than those of all
the countries conquered by Napoleon put together. Thus ended the happy,
lazy, luxury-loving society of Spanish California. Another society, less
luxurious, less light-hearted, less contented, but more energetic, more
progressive, and better fitted for the upbuilding of a nation, took its
place. There are still to be found in California a few men, white-haired
and stoop-shouldered now, who were themselves actors in this drama I
have described, and who delight to tell of those stirring days when
Fremont and his frontiersmen came riding down from the passes, and the
embattled settlers of Sonoma founded their short-lived Republic of the
Bear.