Raven Jake Dawes

Michael White on New Mexico

Old Spanish Trail 1846

Michael White’s narrative didn’t go exactly chronologically and there was some stuff he left out, plus some additional research that I’m putting in now so that it follows a more linear time frame.

David Alexander and William Workman

Now when we last heard from our hero, he was stuck in a flooded house. Occasions like that cause a man to reflect on the misery of his condition. We also found out through other research that he was planning all the time – setting up a land deal with the Lugos and Alvarado and preparing for a trip up the Spanish trail with a big caravan from New Mexico. It ain’t much of a stretch to picture this guy with his political connections and his intimate knowledge of “the coasting trade” to be scheming a way to exploit this new trade route that just opened up. He owns land right at the opening of the trail, he speaks English and Spanish, and now he needs to go check it out and hopefully make some connections. He’s 37 years old, fit, and a man of some means.

Here he goes:

I had forgotten to state, in April 1839 I started from Los Angeles for New Mexico, as far as Taos. I accompanied a New Mexican expedition carrying horses and mules. I carried 50 head, mostly horses, of my own; reached Taos in July without anything very important happening on the way--had a little skirmish with the Utes on the Red river. One of the Utes came and told me not to interfere in the fight as we were friends, and if any of my animals were taken, they should be returned to me—that the Mexicans had robbed them, and they were getting the value of their own.

John Rowland 1860s

We stopped a day or two on a lake called the San José (now known as the Beggars'), and I told my partner to take care of the horses, as I wanted to ride around and take a look at the country. Riding round I heard firing a little ahead of me. Hurrying on, I discovered that our New Mexicans had surrounded a rancheria of Piutes. I saw one little Indian boy, about 12 years old, with his arm nearly shot off, just hanging by the skin a little below the shoulder. I began to scold the New Mexicans and called them a pack of damned brutes and cowards, and they were so.

There was one old Indian, standing with his bow and arrow. They wanted to take and kill him, but were afraid to approach near enough to come within reach of his arrow. I went up to the Indian and asked him for his bow and arrows--they had solemnly promised me not to hurt him if I succeeded in disarming him. The Indian handed them to me and I shall never forgive myself for having taken the word of those villains, for villains they were, of the blackest kind. As soon as they saw the Indian without arms they came near and riddled him with bullets.

I parted with them and went by myself. This was a considerable distance from our camp.

I found another rancheria in a thicket of willows. An Indian came out and by sign asked me if I had come to fight. I said no; then he asked me if I was hungry, and answering in the affirmative, he invited me to alight, and partake of what he had, which was atole [a porridge], made of the seed of hogweed, and barbecued trout of the most delicious--as you may suppose, considering I had had nothing to eat in nearly 24 hours. Whilst I was eating up came the confounded New Mexicans, and the Indians ran to conceal themselves in the brush. All but two succeeded in escaping—those two unfortunate Piutes were taken by the Mexicans, tied, and shot in cold blood. I begged, entreated, threatened, and did all I could to have their lives spared but all my efforts were unavailing.

The Wilsons 1852

When they were about to shoot the Indians, I was so indignant that I raised my gun, aimed at one of the gang, and pulled the trigger, and it wouldn't fall, though I pulled it with all my force. 10 or 12 guns were pointed at me, but they didn't fire, as my gun had not gone off--they said this was what saved me. The rascal's name was Tomás Salazar. I assured them that I would never again travel with such a set of brutes. They answered, "Que! no es pecado matar esos indios gentiles.” [Oh, well. It's no sin to kill those pagan Indians.]

My partner in the camp wanted me to keep quiet, because the New Mexicans were exasperated against me and would put me to death if I said more. From that time I had no rest at night. I was apprehensive of being murdered.

 

Finally reached Taos, and stayed there the rest of 1839, and till the fall of 1840. During that period I visited Santa Fé two or three times, trading for blankets. I had sold or exchanged all my horses and mules for blankets. Most of the time I was in the store of Mr. William Workman at Taos.

 

In the fall of 1840, Mr. William Workman, Mr. John Rowland, Mr. Benjamin D. Wilson, William Gordon and his family, William Knight, a German tailor named Jacob, Hamilton, Dr. Lyman (afterwards a famed scientist of Philadelphia), Taylor, Col. McClewen, and a great many others, whose names I can't recollect. We formed a party of 94 or 95, all foreigners, [and] started from Taos in September for California, and arrived here in December at the Cajon. We celebrated Christmas day at the Cajon. We of course considered ourselves in California then.

 

We met with no adventures on the road. Indians would occasionally come to our camp and beg for something to eat, which we gave them. We finally reached Los Angeles, where each man took his own road. I came home to my family at the Mesa just below Los Angeles.

 

Back to “The Works Hubert Howe Bancroft Volume XXI History Of California vol IV 1840-1845” for a more complete list of the Workman-Rowland Immigrant Company.

 

Workman-Rowland Immigrant Company of 1841:

 

1. Fred Bachelor
2. Frank Bedibey
3. James Doke
4. Jacob Frankfort
5. Isaac Given
6. William Gamble
7. William Gordon
8. Frank Gwinn
9. Wade Hampton
10. William Knight
11. Thomas Lindsay
12. L or JH Lyman
13. John McClure
14. James D Mead
15. William C Moon
16. John Rowland
17. Daniel Sexton
18. Hiram Taylor
19. Tibeau
20. Albert G Toomes
21. Michael White
22. Benjamin D Wilson
23. William Workman

 

Those who did not remain in California are marked by a John Behn and John Reed are named by Wilson and others as members of the party but are not included in Rowland Lista de los que le acompañan en su llegada al Territorio tie Alto California MS signed by Rowland and copy certified by Manuel Dominguez, Juez Feb 20 1842.

 

The Old Spanish Trail website lists a few items in the chronology that are of interest. For instance, Hipólito Espinosa on whose land Michael White was staying prior to making the journey, was a New Mexican who had only come to California a few months prior to White’s departure:

 

1838 September 22 — Lorenzo Trujillo, José Antonio Garcia, Hipolito Espinosa, Diego Lobato, Antonio Lobato, Santiago Martínez and Manuelita Renaga (who gives birth to a son, Apolinario, at Resting Springs) leave New Mexico, bound for California. These eight individuals are the first settlers of the San Bernardino area.

 

Secondly, there were two Salazars - José Antonio and Tomás. They made it to California in 1838 (apparently with a lot of problems with “insubordination”). White was on what was Tomás Salazar’s return trip, and obviously it was a nightmare.

 

1839 — José Antonio Salazar and several New Mexicans and two Canadians travel in party of 75 men to California. José Antonio Salazar’s expedition returns to New Mexico on April 14, 1839, with an estimated 2,500 animals. Some of Salazar’s men desert the expedition and remain in California as settlers. Michael White was either with this party or on the return trip with Tomás Salazar in 1840.

 

http://www.oldspanishtrail.org/trail_history/chronology.php

Michael White and the Lugo Colony

Antonio Maria Lugo

Alright, now here’s an intriguing little historical tidbit, and that concerns Michael White and the founding of San Bernardino County.

 

In Glen Dawson’s notes, he states that according to George W. Beattie in Heritage of the Valley, “In 1838 or 1839 White, under his California name Miguel Blanco, applied for land in the San Bernardino area as one of the Lugo colonists, and before going to New Mexico lived for a short period in or near the Santa Ana River bottom on land occupied by one Hipólito [Hipólito Espinosa, also known as Apólito or just plain Pólito.] No doubt White camped there preparing for the trip to New Mexico.” There was more to Beattie’s account in that White gave the information that he’d lived for part of the year on Hipólito’s property in part of some courtroom testimony regarding the grant. Beattie also fixed the probable rendezvous spot as San Bernardino Rancho and also mentioned what a tremendous undertaking preparing for a caravan on the Spanish trail was – gathering and branding all the stock, preparing the paperwork for the authorities, and getting all the provisions together.  

 

But back to his Lugo affiliation.  This pre-dates his title to the Muscupiabe Grant by about four years, and put him in the area before his trip to New Mexico.

 

Now a lot o’ folks were having no luck with this area – the Indians (not too surprisingly) didn’t want them there and it was like a horse thief superhighway for rustlers of all persuasions. Here’s a little background on that:

 

After the Mission system was dismantled by the Mexican government, several prominent Southern Californians attempted to acquire Rancho San Bernardino. In 1837, Antonia Pico and Andres Pico made an application for the land, but it was rejected.

 

Ygnacio Palomares applied for the right to graze cattle in the eastern San Bernardino Valley and Governor Juan Bautista Alvarado rejected the application. Instead, the governor approved a settlement plan by Antonio Maria Lugo. Lugo's proposal was to colonize the San Bernardino area, listing 27 prospective settlers. Apparently, Miguel’s name was on that list!

 

In 1839, the Lugo's colonization permit was granted for 18 leagues of land. In the same year, the Lugo Family built an adobe house where the current county courthouse sits today.

 

The plan for colonization was not successful. In 1841, Antonio Lugo prepared another petition. This time, it requested a land grant in the name of three of his sons, José del Carmen Lugo, José Maria Lugo, Vicente Lugo, and José del Carmen's friend, Diego Sepulveda. Despite his severe appearance, Antonio Lugo was known as the nicest guy around, renound for his generosity, kindness and killer parties. Seriously.

 

On June 21, 1842, Rancho San Bernardino was granted to Antonio Maria Lugo, his sons and his nephews, who grazed approximately 4000-6000 cattle in the area. The grant included a large part of the San Bernardino valley, 37,700 acres (153 km2) in all. Lugo's adobe would later become Amasa M. Lyman's house. His brother repaired the estancia and lived there. A community that grew up astride the Santa Ana River northeast of current-day Redlands would be known as Lugonia. It lost its identity with the November 1888 incorporation of Redlands. Lugonia, huh? That has a nice ring to it…

 

Now bear in mind that Michael White (really Miguel Blanco for all intensive purposes) is just not here while all this property ownership drama is going on. He’s off on the lonesome trail and will be coming back with the Workman-Temple party in a couple of years, and then it’s his turn to hold the title:

 

In 1843, Michael White (also known in Spanish as Miguel Blanco), a Mexican citizen of English origin, was granted Rancho Muscupiabe, named after the Serrano village Amuscupiabit, "Place of little pines." Michael White built a house overlooking the Cajon Pass, but Native Americans from the desert stole his grazing stock, and he abandoned the Rancho after nine months.

 

But we’re not there yet. Just an FYI that he’s been busy all along, Governor Juan Bautista Alvarado can’t hate him too much ‘cause he keeps approving his land grants, and he’s making plans for a nice home in the mountains…

Thoughts on the Michael White Story So Far

Michael White aka Miguel Blanco

Ok, so we’ve got this pretty awesome oral history going with Michael White. He’s old, but he’s sharp and everyone seems to think that he’s one of the more honest guys around.

 

Life hasn’t been easy for him – he worked his butt off and doesn’t have much to show for it. He’s saying plenty and he’s naming names but there’s also a lot to the story that isn’t being told and at this point, all we can do is speculate. White’s givin’ us the “what” but he’s holding back on the “why.”

 

Maybe he didn’t have a clue about politics, and maybe he did but just didn’t have the right suck-up instincts to get ahead. Frankly, I like that in a person. Maybe he had an unfortunate tendency to get too “honest” and start telling everybody what he really thought. Sometimes it is impossible to tell good luck from bad luck. So here are some Michael Claringbud White mysteries that have occurred to yours truly:

 

What happened with the ship-building venture? Did he get demoted (and Joseph Chapman promoted in his stead) when he and Henry Paine failed to get the Danube back to Santa Barbara more or less intact? Was it really his screw-up? It certainly wasn’t his fault it got wrecked in the squall, but he delayed getting down there. Maybe if he’d left with Henry, he would have had enough lead time to get it off (or maybe they would have been wrecked again when the storm hit.) Why did he never mention Joseph Chapman?

 

The old mission padres all started dying right around 1830 as the missions were getting secularized. Did this dry up his employment stream? Is this why he started a store? Was "store" sort of a glorified front for his smuggling operations? Was he still in business with Castro? He must’ve known Juan Bandini and Abel Sterns – how did he feel about them? Friends or foes? This (plus his family connections through the Perez de Guillen clan) must have informed some of his choices about political alliances.

 

Speaking of political alliances, did taking a neutral position over Las Flores cause Don Juan Bautista Alvarado to consider White, if not a political enemy, then a non-asset? Did he lose his position of Alcalde [Judge] of Los Nietos over this incident? Is that why he was living in Compton? Was José Castro right to try to get him to side with Alvarado [we’ve already established that Castro was something of a scammer and he might have had great instincts about knowing when the fix was in]? Siding with Alvarado didn’t seem to do Isidoro Guillen any great favors, however, he was in the military and White was not. Also, White’s argument against being forced to fight Macedonio Gonzalez is valid to a point except Macedonio was Isidoro’s cousin and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Or did he? We don’t find out about that, and of course, now that it’s over, history remembers the Battle of Las Flores as a non-event, but what if it had turned into a Gettysburg?

 

The fact that Michael White was appointed Alcalde, although he does not say who appointed him, is pretty significant. Even though all of these positions were political appointments made to “friendly” interests, the main qualifications being “male,” “Mexican citizen,” and “non-Indian,” he still would have had to be able to read and write in Spanish, which means he could also read and write in English. This is advanced stuff for a guy who left school (for he must have had some education) at age 12 ½.

 

Did Michael White consider José Sepúlveda to be a total jackass? He doesn’t exactly come out and say so, and yet, there’s a little bit of tone in the way he told the anecdote. Sepúlveda was best known for his extravagant parties and psychotic addiction to horse racing http://articles.latimes.com/2001/dec/23/local/me-17520  Michael White certainly knew enough to be wary of becoming a pawn in a rich man’s plans for expanding his power base, and that may have had everything to do with whether the choice he made that day was a bad one or a good one.

 

ps on that. Most folks would think that if you're 17, you've been working on a whaleboat for four years, and on the one day you have off and you decide to rent a horse and go exploring, the horse falls on you and dislocates your ankle - well, that pretty much defines a bad day. You might even go so far as to consider it one more bad day in a bad life, and the one thing you'd been looking forward to for four years - getting paid and going home - just got taken away from you in the blink of an eye. The general consensus of opinion is that that "really sucks." Except it didn't. It may have been the single best thing that ever happened to young Miguel, as we found out. And there are dozens of Michael White decendants in California who owe their existence to the fact that a teenager fell off a horse and couldn't go back to England. And Michael White didn't end up dying of scurvy somewhere on a boat reeking of whale. Just something to consider when life ain't fair. 

The Old Spanish Trail Suite Video

Now Michael White (and the state of California) are headed into a historical transition period and things are gonna get complicated. Without givin' too much away, he's going to be headed off on the Old Spanish Trail and it's really impossible to convey just with words the impact of that road and what it meant to the settlement of the United States. Remember, this is a kid who grew up in the English countryside and then spent the next 20 years or so on ships. Now he's headed straight into the desert. I found this video on Youtube promoting a musical score called the "Old Spanish Trail Suite," and I think it does a good job of showing some of the sights and scenery�that Michael White would've experienced on his journey.

Promo Video for the Old Spanish Trail Suite

Las Flores Asistencia

-San_Pedro_Chapel_Las_Flores_Estancia

Now I don’t know about you all, but I thought whole anecdote about Michael White telling off José Sepúlveda �was a little… I don’t know… truncated. Seems to me, ol’ Michael wasn’t telling it all. Turns out I was right. When he told Sepúlveda that he wasn’t a citizen of revolutions, he wasn’t just telling him to man up and settle his own stupid problems, he was also implying that José Alvarado�might not represent legitimate authority anyway. You sure don’t get that on the first read.

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So going back into research mode, this is what Miguel didn’t say about the rest of the week (and possibly the chain of events that led to him being stuck in a flooded house in Compton: �

An article “Las Flores “from the Journal of San Diego History by Edgar W. Hebert (taken from H.D. Bancroft) has this to say about the battle Michael White took a pass on:

On June 6, 1837, Carlos Antonio Carrillo was appointed provisional governor of California. He took the post of Juan Bautista Alvarado, who had usurped the government. Alvarado would not acknowledge Carrillo as governor and fighting was inevitable.

The "armies" of each side were never much larger than 200 men, Alvarado's forces being slightly larger than Carrillo's. The latter retired to Las Flores, using an adobe building as a barracks and a corral as a fort, mounting three cannon. The gunners were protected by piles of hides, pack saddles and whatever else could be found. Juan Bandini and Jose Antonio Carrillo (the governor's brother) as well as the governor himself, seem to have been present at the "fort", as were Manuel Requenu, Juan Ibaria and other important men from Los Angeles.

Ignacio Ezquer, who was temporarily in charge of Mission San Juan Capistrano, (the real administrator, Francisco Sepulveda, had gone south to join the southern army) said that one evening a small party under the command of Jose Antonio Carrillo came to the mission and inquired about Castro (Alvarado's commander) and his men. Carrillo and his group had first planned to stay at the mission, but withdrew to an arroyo to spend the night there. Apparently well supplied with liquid refreshment, they fell asleep but were aroused at midnight by the arrival of Castro's army.

The newcomers fired a cannon toward the fort. Alvarado had seen horses tied in that direction and felt the foe must be at hand. Salvador Vallejo was sent forward to occupy San Juan Capistrano Mission; he obtained a capitulation, threatening to hang anyone who did not instantly surrender.

At about the same time, Carrillo occupied Las Flores, and on April 21, 1838, the northern army appeared. The "combat" which ensued was of the comic opera type. A cannon was fired several times, but no damage was caused, and finally a flag of truce was sent, although by which side this was done is not clear. Surrender was not mentioned, only an interview, and not one, but several interviews were held.

The rival governors and their representatives met at Las Flores, a midpoint between the two "armies," and on April 23 a treaty was signed. The power of government remained with Alvarado; Carrillo disbanded his troops and was paroled to his wife and, following the negotiations, a barbecue took place. Alvarado boasted in a dispatch to Vallejo and others in the north that he had won a smashing victory over Don Carlos, who had offered nothing of sound value to the people of California.

Hubert Howe Bancroft, History of California, Volume 111, (San Francisco, 1885) p. 559

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https://www.sandiegohistory.org/journal/61july/lasflores.htm

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And some other information about Las Flores Asistencia, where all this action went down (It’s now just some old adobe ruins, so I’m gonna have to check it out) That picture shows what it was like in the 1850s:

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History

The site was developed in 1823 by Padre Antonio Peyri and served Mission San Luis Rey de Francia as well as travelers along El Camino Real.

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April 1838. The Las Flores location is most famous for the "battle" between Juan Bautista Alvarado and Carlos Antonio Carrillo. At stake was the governorship of California (the battle was a single cannon shot and Alvarado continued as governor).

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After secularization, the Las Flores property (along with Mission San Luis Rey property) was assimilated into Rancho Santa Margarita y Las Flores; the biggest in California at some 200 square miles in size. The rancho was given to Pio de Jesus Píco and his brother as one of Pio Píco's land deals.

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1864. The rancho was sold to a Píco brother-in-law, Englishman Juan (John) Forster. Forster developed the area and even attempted to start a new city (Forster City) in the area. This attempt failed.

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When Forster died the rancho was taken over by James Flood via Richard O'Neill (Flood rented the rancho back to O'Neill).

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1888. O'Neill rented the Las Flores adobe to a family named Magee. They remained on the property until 1968 when the last of the family died.

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1942. The Marines took over the rancho and its properties for Camp Pendleton. O'Neill's son Jerome was managing the property at the time. (Side Note: The main house for the rancho is now used as quarters by the commander of Camp Pendleton.)

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Location

The remains of the asistencia is on the grounds of Camp Pendleton Marine Base. The basic location of the asistencia has been turned over to the Boy Scouts; what little is left sits on a hill at the back of the Boy Scout area. Take the Las Pulgas Road exit from I5 and enter Camp Pendleton through the Las Pulgas gate (no guarantee--security may not allow civilian entry to the base). Proceed to the first intersection; turn right and just ahead at the bottom of the hill is the Boy Scount camp on the right (a total of about 0.6 miles from the gate). Turn right into the camp and drive (slowly!) through the area and straight across a small (usually dry) stream. Ahead of you at the top of the hill stands the fenced-in remains of the assistencia along with the California landmark sign. GPS 33°17'44"N 117°27'53"W.

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And for the official plaque: Las Flores (San Pedro) Asistencia

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From 1823 to the 1840's the tile-roofed adobe chapel and hostel at Las Flores, built by Father Antonio Peyri, served as the asistencia to Mission San Luis Rey and provided comfort to travelers on El Camino Real. The adobe structure and adjacent corral were the site of the April 1838 battle between Juan Bautista Alvarado and Carlos Antonio Carrillo contesting the provincial governorship of Alta California.

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California Registered Historical Landmark No. 616

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Plaque placed by the State Department of Parks and Recreation in cooperation with the U.S. Marine Corps and Squibob Chapter, E. Clampus Vitus. September 17, 1983

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View Michael White in 1838 in a larger map

Michael White in 1838

Michael White on the Mission Fathers

We've left poor Michael White up to his waist in a flooded house in Compton, which is probably giving him a lot of time to think about his life. Maybe too much time, for he's about to do some traveling. Taken out of order in his narrative, and just a little late in terms of his life's path, are his thoughts on the mission fathers, who were his main support from the 1820s-early 30s, and whose passing was probably why he got out of ship building and started a store. Here's what he had to say about his favorite padres: During my life in California I was intimately acquainted with Fathers Zalvidea, Sanchez of San Diego, and Narciso Duran.

Zalvidea was a tall, rawboned, stout man, very industrious and intelligent, constantly at his work, spiritual, but also in developing the resources of San Gabriel mission and subsequently of San Juan Capistrano. He was in the full sense of the word a saint. He planted fruit trees in the ravines and in many places distant from the missions, for the benefit of the bronco Indians.

Father Sanchez of San Diego was an uncle of the Father Sanchez of San Gabriel; he told me so himself.

He was a very old man, doubled up a great deal (in 1832). He was of a very nice, affable manner, very attentive to his duties. He died in San Diego.

Father Duran died at Santa Barbara. He stood 5 feet 8 or maybe a little more, quite stout when I made his acquaintance (in 1829). He was extremely fond of a joke, and was constantly letting off jokes. He was a man of fine education and intelligence, amiable to everybody, and constantly attending to his ministerial duties.

Holiday Lights 2009-2010

View from the street

Dancing Rudolph

I want to give a shout out to my neighbors on Oakwood Avenue for offering the most jaw-dropping display of holiday lights I've ever seen. Behind their hedge of San Pedro cactus and barbed wire, a psychotropic wonderland of illuminated Christmas cheer unfolded in endless layers. As remarkable as it may seem, all of these products ARE

Through the hedge

Frosty and Santa

commercially available, but the tableau in which they were arranged was truly inspired. I had to turn the truck around - there's just too much to take in at one

Gingerbread house and elephant

viewing. Now with New Years over, I suppose they'll be packing it all away so their neighbors will be able to sleep at night, but it's kind of a shame. Can't wait to see what y'all come up with next year.

Looking towards the house

Towards the garage

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

White Elephant Bearing Gift

What can you say

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God Bless America

And even more

Michael White Research Challenge

Attention librarians and family members, you hard-core Michael White researchers:

 

SECOND CHALLENGE:

 

Researchers, we’ve got a problem reference. In Glen Dawson’s 1956 notes, he gives his reference: (Guinn, J. M., A History of California and an Extended History of its Southern Coast Counties, Los Angeles, 1907, v. II, p. 2149.)

 

Trouble is, that doesn’t exist. Now I’m not saying he made it up, it’s just cited wrong. Michael White is listed in the index of volume I as page 2148, but there are only 1104 pages in the whole 2-volume set (which was supposed to be “complete in two volumes,”) so where are the other 1044 pages and the Michael White entry? There is no listing for Michael White in the volume II index, nor does he appear in the text. Now there is a volume III, which is numbered completely differently – might there be a volume IV?

 

So I’ve got another Michael White research challenge – has anybody seen this reference? Apparently in it is an account of him killing someone named Chief Coyote, which is worth the price of admission right there, as well as more detailed info on his descendants.

Michael White on the Flood of 1838

Michael White's Oral History Continues: I had all my movements set down in my log book and kept it in my house at the place now called Compton on the way to Port San Pedro, when the freshet came 1839 in January, and ruined it.

The water was in the house waist-deep for 6 weeks.

My family was there when it began to rain in the latter part of December 1838. Two days before Christmas, I sent them off to Los Angeles and remained in the house and then never had a chance of getting away till February. The two rivers, San Gabriel and Los Angeles, met and overflowed the whole country.

Michael White on Los Nietos Ranch 1832-1837

Michael White's oral history continues: When I came back, I went to live on the Nietos ranch, and set up a little store. Was appointed Alcalde.

Nothing worthy of mention happened during my stay in Los Nietos until 1836.

In the mean time, General Figueroa had been Gefe Político [Political Chief, or Leader] and Comandante General from the early part of 1833 to latter part of 1835, when he died and was buried in the Church of Santa Barbara Mission.

In the year 1836, I was still Alcalde in Los Nietos, and José Sepúlveda  [Jose Antonio Andres Sepulveda 1803 – 1875] was the Juez de Paz [Justice of the Peace] in Los Angeles. I got from him a letter directing me to meet him next the day at Los Angeles with every man capable of bearing arms residing in my jurisdiction. [The] next day I could only get together three brothers named Alvitre out of a population of 100 men.

We four rode into town to the court house; the brothers got off their horses, went in and were talking to Judge Sepúlveda—then came out with the Judge. I was still sitting on my horse. He said to me, "Miguel, ya estas aqui?" [Are you here already?] I answered, “Yes. What do you want with me?”

He directed me to alight and go in. There were sitting in the office (I think it was in the latter part of February 1837) Don José Castro, Don Juan Bautista Alvarado and my brother-in-law, the Alferez [ensign or second lieutendant] Isidoro Guillen.

The first words Sepúlveda uttered to me were if I was ready to go and die with him in San Diego. I answered that I had no idea of dying. He then explained that he had not meant to convey the idea that I had about dying. He grumbled about the people of San Diego having fooled them, and taken away the piece of artillery they had. He wanted me to go and help take it away from the Dieguinos, and I refused.

Then he said, "Why, you are a citizen." I answered, "Yes, I am a citizen of Mexico, but not a citizen of revolutions." He then repeated two or three times the question "So you won't go?" and I repeated my answer that I would not, each time in a more peremptory tone, then he broke out, "Pues, va´yase a su casa." [Well, then go on home.]

I thanked him, and told him that was precisely what I wanted to do. Castro, Alvarado and Guillen had a good laugh. Alvarado said " Que´ clase de Ingle´s es ese tan chala´n ?" [What kind of Englishman is this smart horse-trader?] Castro replied, " Ese es mi viejo Capita´n, y mi disci´pulo, pero el disci´pulo ha llegado a saber ma´s que su maestro ." [That's my chief and my pupil, but the pupil has come to know more than the master.]

A day or so after, Castro came to my house at Los Nietos and asked me to go with him to Las Flores, where the San Diego and Los Angeles troops were encamped. I declined to go, but went with him as far as Santa Ana at his own request. Carried a demijohn of aguardiente [moonshine] and 4 case bottles, two in each saddle bag, and the demijohn slung on the head of the saddle.

He tried hard to induce me on the road to go with him to Las Flores, assuring me there would be no fight as he felt he could talk the Southerners out of it. I answered him that one reason why I wouldn't go was that Macedonio Gonzalez, an own cousin of my wife and my compadre [a name used to express kinship between father and godfather] (I had been godfather to his son) was among the abejeños [those from down below, Southerners] in Las Flores, belonging to the Mission San Luis Rey, where the mission had a Chapel, and a priest would go there to celebrate mass every two Sundays. (The Mission had, besides the principal church at San Luis, another chapel in Pala. Las Flores and Pala were ranches of that mission occupied by Indians of different tribes.)

I gave Castro the demijohn of liquor at Santa Ana and returned to Los Nietos. The four flasks I gave to an old woman living at the Coyotes, nearly halfway between Santa Ana and Los Nietos.

Now, I need some clarification on just where Los Nietos is. There’s a community in Whittier that seems like the most likely spot – near the San Gabriel Mission, Pio Pico’s place and all, but there’s also Rancho Los Alamitos which was part of the 300,000 acre land grant given to Manuel Nieto – hence the name. Abel Sterns comes up again as one of the owners of Rancho Los Alamitos, which would add another layer of intrigue if indeed that was the location of Michael White’s store. 

By the way, remember when you look up at that line-up over there at the right that in the 1830s they were only on their ways to becoming prominent citizens, they weren't there quite yet. At the time this whole fiasco was shaping up they were all 20 years younger. (However, they were well on their ways to developing burly muttonchops even then)