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.[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.[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.[6]
What could have precipitated such an astounding performance? Clearly no directions from our government.[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.[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.”[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;[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.[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.[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;[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.[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,[9] fourteen hundred miles to the northwest, where for some strange reason he made the usual call on the authorities.[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,[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.[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;[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,[13] might appear at any hour and raise the British flag, drove him into action.[15]