Now between the revolt against Micheltorena and the Battle of Chino, White’s friends are doing pretty well for themselves. Pio Pico became Governor, José Castro, Comandante General and Workman, Wilson and Rowland are collecting land.
Things are going very badly for the Mexican government in California and it really just doesn’t seem possible that Michael White, whose aforementioned friends just de-stabilized the last Mexican-appointed governor didn’t know that. James Beckwourth, of the Pegleg Smith-Walkara-Beckwourth gang helped himself to 1,500 horses on his way out of California after the Battle of Cahuenga, justifying it by saying he was depriving the “enemy” of horses. What? The Mexicans weren’t enemies – yet.
Pico moved the capital of California from Monterey to Los Angeles in 1845. America declared war on Mexico in May 1846, the Bear Flag revolt was in June 1846 and Monterey was captured in July. So in 1846, Michael White knew trouble was brewing.
Here he goes:
“I was working in September, 1846 for Mr. Hugo Reid building a house at the place where Mr. B. D. Wilson now lives.”
Side note on that, courtesy Glen Dawson: Rancho Huerta de Cuati was owned by Victoria Reid, wife of Hugo Reid. She owned this rancho and that of Santa Anita and was one of the few full-blooded Indians to hold land under a Mexican grant, in California. She sold to Huerta de Cuati to Don Benito Wilson, who renamed it "Lake Vineyard."
Back to Michael White:
“My home was at the San Isidro ranch, which I still hold. Reid went up to San Francisco. There was a man sawing lumber at San Gorgonio, named Pablo Weaver” [aka Pauline Weaver, the guy who knew that the “we’ll give you the Rancho Muscupiabe Grant and all you have to do is keep raiding parties out of California” was a bad idea].
Here the Beatties have something to say “The mission rancho San Gorgonio, at the summit of the pass of that name, was the most eastern property occupied by San Gabriel. In 1845 Pauline Weaver joined Isaac Williams in petitioning the Mexican government for a grant of this former mission holding. (Beattie, Heritage of the Valley, p. 68)
And back to Michael White:
“I am coming to see this lumber. When I got to the Chino ranch, belonging to Isaac Williams,
he asked me to remain, and as I had had a long ride, I consented to stay. [that’s no joke; San Gabriel to Chino is a long haul - about 30 miles. The ranch house of Isaac Williams, the site of the Battle of Chino, is no longer in existence, but was about three miles southwest of the present town of Chino.]
That evening B. D. Wilson came there with his men, 18 all told. After that other men joined us, namely Rubidoux, John Rowland, David Alexander, George Walters, Loring and an Austrian named William Skene or Stene.”
O.K., now I think that basically Michael White was a pretty honest guy, but I’m not sure I believe the whole “I was just looking at lumber and the Benito Wilson showed up with his posse” scenario. He’s got to know after the Battle of Cahuenga that when the Taos mafia showed up, they weren’t going out to a sports bar.
Back to Michael White:
“Among Wilson's original 18 were William and Edward Cottrell (both sailors) and Godey and Perdue (American Creoles from St. Louis, Mo. and both officers under Wilson). I don't remember the names of the others—one of them was an American sailor, who some years after was hung in San Diego for having joined hostile Indians to commit depredations.
We by this time formed a party of 22 or 23. That night I stood guard with David Alexander (present [1877] sheriff of Los Angeles). I heard the Californians who were besieging us that they would burn us out the next morning. I think that was the night of 26 September.
As soon as I got relieved, I went to Wilson and Isaac Williams and suggested that we should build two little forts with joists of which there were a quantity there, so that we could sweep the enemy from all sides at which they could approach the house where we were. My advice was not heeded, as they said that the Californians would not come near us.
Next morning got up, and one fellow went on top of the house. His name Isaac Batchelder, (surnamed the Picayune because he was short). He sang out to me, and said, "Good God—what a quantity of horses are there!" I told him to lookout sharp, and he would see men on top of them.
A Frenchman named Anton the Cook, said, "I must hurry up and make some coffee" and I told him, "Yes, hurry up, or else you'll get chocolate." We did get chocolate, sure. I had hardly got the words out of my mouth, when I saw the whole force of Californio cavalrymen rush to the house and the roof was very soon on fire—it was made of wood and asphaltum.
Williams begged me to go on the roof and ask the Californians to let us off, but as I was angry with him for not heeding my advice of the night before, and charging me with cowardice. I refused, and told him to go himself. Williams was frightened out of his wits.
He was a traitor to us. He wrote a letter to the Californian commander encamped at the place now called Bella Union, which I saw him deliver to Felix Gallardo, saying that if his forces did not come up quick, they would not be able to take us, for Stuttering Alick (whose name was Smith) was out at San Jacinto and would come to our rescue the next day. I know this to be a fact for Captain Segura some days afterwards told me of it and showed me Williams' letter.”
Here’s the footnote on that one: “Don Benito Wilson wrote a letter to Gillespie from the Chino Rancho apprising the Lieutenant of the fact that it would be impossible for him to come to his assistance in the pueblo due to lack of ammunition. This letter was given to Felix Gallardo to deliver, but Williams told the messenger to deliver it to General Flores, instead, as a token of his (Williams') loyalty to the Californians.” [Wilson, Observations of Early Days, Historical Society of Southern California Annual Publication, 1934.]
Boy, I’ll be Michael White was feeling good and suckered by now. Here he goes again:
“Williams took a very long reed and hung on it something that looked like a piece of a shirt, and exhibited it in the enclosed plaza so that the Californians could see it above the roof (it was a square of about half an acre surrounded by buildings). After some palavering, Wilson, who acted for us, received a promise that we should be treated as prisoners of war if we would surrender. Previous to that there had been a good deal of firing from both sides. Our fire killed Carlos Ballesteros, and wounded a New Mexican.
On our side we had Callahan (in the prairie the day before) and Godey wounded, besides William Skene who was hit by a ball in his breeches' pocket where he had a box of caps, which bursted and burnt into both his thighs and into his privates. The poor man suffered horribly.
We accepted the terms offered us and surrendered.
The Californians took us over to the soap works—about 300 yards from the house. On going over I saw one of the Mexican officers brandishing his sword and heard him say that they must look upon us with mercy.
Loring asked me what the Californians were talking about and what they were going to do with us. I answered that they were going to make soap of us. Loring did not like the joke, for he had seen the brandishing of the sword and had not understood the words. Indeed, he believed that they were going to kill us all.
We were searched, and the same evening started on the march for the headquarters of the California forces. I had been requested by Wilson to say that we had taken the Chino by force so as to save Williams from being carried off as a prisoner, and I complied. Williams was left at home with his children.”
Alright, now that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Again, it answers the “what,” but not the “why.” If Benjamin Wilson and Michael White both believed that Isaac Williams betrayed them, why on earth would they cover for him?
If Michael White is being completely truthful, then this is the sequence of events:
Isaac Williams, a considerate host, noted that Michael White had a long ride and offered him a place to crash. White, having made the long ride from San Gabriel to Chino, was happy to have some down time before getting back on the road. “Oh, look who’s here - it’s Ben Wilson and 20 of his friends? Hey, looks like this is shaping up to be quite a party!” Then they got besieged and had to come up with a good defense. Then Wilson and Williams together shot down White’s 2-fort plan. Then White got pissy with everybody for dragging him into another disaster. Then Williams tried to save his own neck at everyone else’s expense, which isn’t too surprising since his whole family was in the house and he didn’t want it burned down. And then Wilson told White to lie about it to save Williams, so he did! Sorry, amigo, but your story has some holes in it. I think you knew what was going down, and you weren’t just there to look at lumber.
Now here’s another wrinkle and it’s a more sympathetic look at Isaac Williams, and White doesn’t mention it. Williams, originally from Pennsylvania, had become a Mexican citizen and married Maria de Jesus Lugo, daughter of Antonio Maria Lugo. Yeah, that Antonio Maria Lugo. So it isn’t just “whose side are you on” – it’s a family thing because William’s own brother-in-law was coming out to arrest him
Here’s the recap: Serbulo Varela, Diego Sepulveda [Diego Sepulveda and José Lugo were cousins] and Ramon Carrillo left Los Angeles with about fifty men, while José del Carmen Lugo with another fifteen to twenty men left from San Bernardino to converge upon Rancho del Chino. On the night of September 26, 1846, the adobe ranch house was surrounded by the Californios. At dawn, the following day, gunfire was exchanged resulting in one Californio (Carlos Ballesteros) dead with two wounded and three American wounded. When the Californios attempted to set fire to the roof of the house, Wilson surrendered to Varela. This brief engagement became known as the Battle of Chino.
So did Isaac Williams know what was up or didn't he?
Back to Michael White:
“About one mile or two from the Chino on the march, we were in the utmost danger of being killed. The Californians and Mexicans were exasperated because of the death of Ballesteros and had come to the conclusion to shoot us all. Ramon Carrillo saved our lives. Mr. Wilson has always said that we owed our lives to Sérvulo Varela, but I know that he and Diego Sepúlveda were in cahoots and would have sent us to the other world if it had not been for Ramon Carrillo.
I saw with my own eyes when Carrillo, on the road went, and struck several whacks on Varela's back with the flat of his sword, saying at the same time, "I'll let you know that they are prisoners of mine, and you can do nothing with them. They say that I am an assassin" (he referred to the charges preferred against him of having murdered some Americans in the Sonoma region) "I will prove to the world that I am not one." Diego Sepúlveda and Sérvulo Varela were always after that and had been before very good friends of mine; but the facts of the case are just as I have stated.”
A note about Ramon Carrillo: This incident occurred during the Bear Flag Revolt at Sonoma. On June 18th or 19th, 1846, two men, Cowie and Palmer, were sent by William Ide to secure a keg of powder from the Fitch Rancho on the Russian River. Discarding all precaution these men took the main road and were captured by Ramon Carrillo and Juan Padilla, by whom they were supposed to have been killed. (Giffen)
Now I’m thinking that it isn’t that Michael White was a liar, I just think he ain’t being 100 percent truthful, and the reason is because he found himself in a morally ambiguous situation and there was no possible way he could win. He had “friends” on both sides of this conflict and he chose to side with the Americans. That wasn’t such a bad thing – everyone knew the Mexicans and Californios weren’t going to win the war (although they did well in battle) because they didn’t have the infinite resources of the United States. And since he was English, not Spanish, he never really was “one of the Dons.” Since New Mexico, he’d been hanging out more with these Americans, and maybe their ideology was appealing to him – they seemed like a bunch of movers and shakers that shared his sense of adventure instead of just kicking back on the farm.
By the time this of this narrative, about 30 years had gone past, and he was sorry he’d had anything to do with this war, even though it probably seemed like a good idea at the time. And who can say? If he fought with the Californios, he would’ve won this battle and lost the war, instead of losing the battle and winning the war, or maybe he would just be dead. Remember what I say about luck.
But let’s get back to Michael White:
“One or two days later in the Paredon Blanco [White Bluffs, now Boyle Heights. In a few short years, the Workman family would own this property] three or four of us were exchanged. I was exchanged for Andres Pico, who had been till then a prisoner in the hands of Captain [Archibald H ] Gillespie. Isaac Batchelder, Edward Cottrell, and a half-breed Cherokee were also exchanged for other Californians in Gillespie's hands.
The whole trouble and revolt of the Californians arose from the despotic measures of Captain Gillespie, who seemed to take a special pleasure in humiliating the most respectable among the Californians and reducing the people to the condition of a conquered race. His measures were unwarrantable, and led to all the trouble and bloodshed that ensued. Had a sensible officer been left in command at Los Angeles instead of him, the Californians would have continued to acquiesce to the occupation of their country by the Americans at least until something favorable to Mexico had resulted from the campaign there.”
It’s interesting that Gillespie considered Michael White a suitable hostage exchange for Andres Pico. It’s also a little weird that White considered Gillespie a total ass, and joined the American side anyway.
The chronology of this period is as follows:
· August 13, 1846, Fremont and Stockton took Los Angeles without opposition;
· early September, Captain Gillespie and some 50 men were left to hold Los Angeles;
· September 23 there was an outbreak by the Californians in Los Angeles;
· September 26 was the Battle of Chino, described by White, with the American force surrendering to the Californians;
· September 30 was an exchange of prisoners and Gillespie forced to withdraw to San Pedro;
· October 9, the attempt to retake Los Angeles fails at the Battle of Dominguez;
· December 6, Kearny and his men fight the Californians at Battle of San Pasqual;
· January 8 and , Americans approaching from San Diego fight battles of San Gabriel and La Mesa, the last battles on California soil
· January 13, 1847, Fremont and Andres Pico sign treaty of Cahuenga.
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