Newton's demonstration of the universal law of gravitation (1685),
whereby he showed that "the motions of the solar system were due to the
action of a central force directed to the body at the centre of the
system, and varying inversely with the square of the distance from it."
After making this discovery, Newton himself, with the aid of others,
especially of the French mathematician Picard, labored for years to
verify it, and still further verification was necessary before it could
be fully comprehended and accepted by the scientific world. The
discovery of the asteroids or small planets revolving in orbits between
those of Mars and Jupiter, aided in confirming the Newtonian theory,
which the discovery of Uranus, by Sir William Herschel (1781), had done
much to establish.

From the time of Sir William Herschel the science of stellar astronomy,
revealing the enormous distances of the stars--none of them really
fixed, but all having real or apparent motions--was rapidly developed.
The discovery of stellar planets, at almost incalculable distances,
still further changed the aspect of the heavens as viewed by
astronomers, and when the capital discovery of Neptune was made those
men of science were well prepared for studying its nature and
importance. These matters, as well as the simultaneous calculation of
the place of Neptune by Adams and Leverrier, and its actual discovery by
Galle, are set forth by Sir Oliver Lodge in a manner as charming for
simplicity as it is valuable in its summary of scientific learning.

The explanation by Newton of the observed facts of the motion of the
moon, the way he accounted for precession and nutation and for the
tides; the way in which Laplace explained every detail of the planetary
motions--these achievements may seem to the professional astronomer
equally, if not more, striking and wonderful; but of the facts to be
explained in these cases the general public is necessarily more or less
ignorant, and so no beauty or thoroughness of treatment appeals to it or
excites its imagination. But to predict in the solitude of the study,
with no weapons other than pen, ink, and paper, an unknown and
enormously distant world, to calculate its orbit when as yet it had
never been seen, and to be able to say to a practical astronomer, "Point
your telescope in such a direction at such a time, and you will see a
new planet hitherto unknown to man"--this must always appeal to the
imagination with dramatic intensity, and must awaken some interest in
the dullest.

Prediction is no novelty in science; and in astronomy least of all is it
a novelty. Thousands of years ago Thales, and others whose very names we
have forgotten, could predict eclipses, but not without a certain degree
of inaccuracy. And many other phenomena were capable of prediction by
accumulated experience. A gap between Mars and Jupiter caused a missing
planet to be suspected and looked for, and to be found in a hundred
pieces. The abnormal proper-motion of Sirius suggested to Bessel the
existence of an unseen companion. And these last instances seem to
approach very near the same class of prediction as that of the discovery
of Neptune. Wherein, then, lies the difference? How comes it that some
classes of prediction--such as that if you put your finger in fire it
will be burned--are childishly easy and commonplace, while others excite
in the keenest intellects the highest feelings of admiration? Mainly,
the difference lies, first, in the grounds on which the prediction is
based; second, in the difficulty of the investigation whereby it is
accomplished; third, in the completeness and the accuracy with which it
can be verified. In all these points, the discovery of Neptune stands
out as one among the many verified predictions of science, and the
circumstances surrounding it are of singular interest.

Three distinct observations suffice to determine the orbit of a planet
completely, but it is well to have the three observations as far apart
as possible so as to minimize the effects of minute but necessary errors
of observation. When Uranus was found old records of stellar
observations were ransacked with the object of discovering whether it
had ever been unwittingly seen before. If seen, it had been thought, of
course, to be a star--for it shines like a star of the sixth magnitude,
and can therefore be just seen without a telescope if one knows
precisely where to look for it and if one has good sight--but if it had
been seen and catalogued as a star it would have moved from its place,
and the catalogue would by that entry be wrong. The thing to do,
therefore, was to examine all the catalogues for errors, to see whether
the stars entered there actually existed, or whether any were missing.
If a wrong entry were discovered, it might of course have been due to
some clerical error, though that is hardly probable considering the care
spent in making these records, or it might have been a tailless comet,
or possibly the newly found planet.

The next thing to do was to calculate backward, to see whether by any
possibility the planet could have been in that place at that time.
Examined in this way the tabulated observations of Flamsteed showed that
he had unwittingly observed Uranus five distinct times; the first time
in 1690, nearly a century before Herschel discovered its true nature.
But more remarkable still, Le Monnier, of Paris, had observed it eight
times in one month, cataloguing it each time as a different star. If
only he had reduced and compared his observations, he would have
anticipated Herschel by twelve years. As it was, he missed it. It was
seen once by Bradley also. Altogether it had been seen twenty times.

These old observations of Flamsteed and those of Le Monnier, combined
with those made after Herschel's discovery, were very useful in
determining an exact orbit for the new planet, and its motion was
considered thoroughly known. For a time Uranus seemed to travel
regularly, and as expected, in the orbit which had been calculated for
it; but early in the present century it began to be slightly refractory,
and by 1820 its actual place showed quite a distinct discrepancy from
its position as calculated with the aid of the old observations. It was
thought at first that this discrepancy must be due to inaccuracies in
the older observations, and they were accordingly rejected, and tables
prepared for the planet based on the newer and more accurate
observations only. But by 1830 it became apparent that it did not
coincide with even these. The error amounted to about 20". By 1840 it
was as much as 90", or a minute and a half. This discrepancy is quite
distinct, but still it is very small; and had two objects been in the
heavens at once, the actual Uranus and the theoretical Uranus, no
unaided eye could possibly have distinguished them or detected that they
were other than a single star.

The errors of Uranus, though small, were enormously greater than other
things which had certainly been observed; there was an unmistakable
discrepancy between theory and observation. Some cause was evidently at
work on this distant planet, causing it to disagree with its motion as
calculated according to the law of gravitation. If the law of
gravitation held exactly at so great a distance from the sun, there must
be some perturbing force acting on it besides all the known forces that
had been fully taken into account. Could it be an outer planet? The
question occurred to several, and one or two tried to solve the problem,
but were soon stopped by the tremendous difficulties of calculation.

The ordinary problem of perturbation is difficult enough: Given a
disturbing planet in such and such a position, to find the perturbations
it produces. This was the problem that Laplace worked out in the
_Mécanique Céleste_.

But the inverse problem--given the perturbations, to find the planet
that causes them--such a problem had never yet been attacked, and by
only a few had its possibility been conceived. Friedrich Bessel made
preparations for solving this mystery in 1840, but he was prevented by
fatal illness.

In 1841 the difficulties of the problem presented by these residual
perturbations of Uranus excited the imagination of a young student, an
undergraduate of Cambridge--John Couch Adams by name--and he determined
to make a study of them as soon as he was through his _tripos_. In
January, 1843, he was graduated as senior wrangler, and shortly
afterward he set to work. In less than two years he reached a definite
conclusion; and in October, 1845, he wrote to the astronomer-royal, at
Greenwich, Professor Airy, saying that the perturbations of Uranus could
be explained by assuming the existence of an outer planet, which he
reckoned was now situated in a specified latitude and longitude.

We know now that had the astronomer-royal put sufficient faith in this
result to point his big telescope at the spot indicated and begin
sweeping for a planet, he would have detected it within 1-3/4º of the
place assigned to it by Adams. But anyone in the situation of the
astronomer-royal knows that almost every post brings absurd letters from
ambitious correspondents, some of them having just discovered perpetual
motion, or squared the circle, or proved the earth flat, or discovered
the constitution of the moon or of ether or of electricity; and in this
mass of rubbish it requires great skill and patience to detect such gems
of value as may exist.

Now this letter of Adams's was indeed a jewel of the first water, and no
doubt bore on its face a very different appearance from the chaff of
which I have spoken; but still Adams was unknown: he had been graduated
as senior wrangler, it is true, but somebody must be graduated as senior
wrangler every year, and a first-rate mathematician is not produced
every year. Those behind the scenes--as Professor Airy of course was,
having been a senior wrangler himself--knew perfectly well that the
labeling of a young man on his taking his degree is much more worthless
as a testimony to his genius and ability than the general public is apt
to suppose.

Was it likely that a young and unknown man should have solved so
extremely difficult a problem? It was altogether unlikely. Still, he
should be tested: he should be asked for explanations concerning some of
the perturbations which Professor Airy had noticed, and see whether he
could explain these also by his hypothesis. If he could, there might be
something in his theory. If he failed--well, there was an end of it. The
questions were not difficult. They concerned the error of the radius
vector. Adams could have answered them with perfect ease; but sad to
say, though a brilliant mathematician, he was not a man of business. He
did not answer Professor Airy's letter.

It may seem a pity to many that the Greenwich equatorial was not pointed
at the place, just to see whether any foreign object did happen to be in
that neighborhood; but it is no light matter to derange the work of an
observatory, and alter the plans laid out for the staff, into a sudden
sweep for a new planet on the strength of a mathematical investigation
just received by post. If observatories were conducted on these
unsystematic and spasmodic principles they would not be the calm,
accurate, satisfactory places they are.

Of course, if anyone had known that a new planet was to be found for the
looking, _any_ course would have been justified; but no one could know
this. I do not suppose that Adams himself felt an absolute confidence in
his attempted prediction. So there the matter dropped. Adams's
communication was pigeonholed, and remained in seclusion eight or nine
months.

Meanwhile, and quite independently, something of the same sort was going
on in France. A brilliant young mathematician, Urban Jean Joseph
Leverrier, born in Normandy in 1811, held the post of astronomical
professor at the École Polytechnique, founded by Napoleon. His first
published papers directed attention to his wonderful powers; and the
official head of astronomy in France, the famous Arago, suggested to him
the unexplained perturbations of Uranus as a worthy object for his fresh
and well-armed vigor. At once he set to work in a thorough and
systematic way. He first considered whether the discrepancies could be
due to errors in the tables or errors in the old observations. He
discussed them with minute care, and came to the conclusion that they
were not thus to be explained away. This part of the work he published
in November, 1845.

He then set to work to consider the perturbations produced by Jupiter
and Saturn to see whether they had been accurately allowed for, or
whether some minute improvements could be made sufficient to destroy the
irregularities. He introduced several fresh terms into these
calculations, but none of them of sufficient importance to do more than
partly explain the mysterious perturbations. He next examined the
various hypotheses that had been suggested to account for them. Were
they caused by a failure in the law of gravitation or by the presence of
a resisting medium? Were they due to some large but unseen satellite or
to a collision with some comet?

All these theories he examined and dismissed for various reasons. The
perturbations were due to some continuous cause--for instance, some
unknown planet. Could this planet be inside the orbit of Uranus? No, for
then it would perturb Saturn and Jupiter also, and they were not
perturbed by it. It must, therefore, be some planet outside the orbit of
Uranus, and in all probability, according to Bode's empirical law, at
nearly double the distance from the sun that Uranus is. Finally he
proceeded to determine where this planet was, and what its orbit must be
to produce the observed disturbances.

Not without failures and disheartening complications was this part of
the process completed. This was, after all, the real tug of war. Many
unknown quantities existed: its mass, its distance, its eccentricity,
the obliquity of its orbit, its position--nothing was known, in fact,
about the planet except the microscopic disturbance it caused in Uranus,
several thousand million miles away from it. Without going into further
detail, suffice it to say that in June, 1846, he published his last
paper, and in it announced to the world his theory as to the situation
of the planet.

Professor Airy received a copy of this paper before the end of the
month, and was astonished to find that Leverrier's theoretical place for
the planet was within 1° of the place Adams had assigned to it eight
months before. So striking a coincidence seemed sufficient to justify a
Herschelian sweep for a week or two. But a sweep for so distant a planet
would be no easy matter. When seen through a large telescope it would
still only look like a star, and it would require considerable labor and
watching to sift it out from the other stars surrounding it. We know
that Uranus had been seen twenty times, and thought to be a star, before
its true nature was discovered by Herschel; and Uranus is only about
half as far away as Neptune.

Neither at Paris nor at Greenwich was any optical search undertaken; but
Professor Airy wrote to ask M. Leverrier the same old question that he
had fruitlessly put to Adams: Did the new theory explain the errors of
the radius vector or not? The reply of Leverrier was both prompt and
satisfactory--these errors were explained, as well as all the others.
The existence of the object was then for the first time officially
believed in. The British Association met that year at Southampton, and
Sir John Herschel was one of its sectional presidents. In his inaugural
address, on September 10, 1846, he called attention to the researches of
Leverrier and Adams in these memorable words:

"The past year has given to us the new [minor] planet Astræa; it has
done more--it has given us the probable prospect of another. We see it
as Columbus saw America from the shores of Spain. Its movements have
been felt trembling along the far-reaching line of our analysis with a
certainty hardly inferior to ocular demonstration."

It was nearly time to begin to look for it. So the astronomer-royal
thought on reading Leverrier's paper. But as the national telescope at
Greenwich was otherwise occupied, he wrote to Professor Challis, at
Cambridge, to know whether he would permit a search to be made for it
with the Northumberland equatorial, the large telescope at Cambridge
University, presented to it by one of the Dukes of Northumberland.

Professor Challis said he would conduct the search himself, and shortly
began a leisurely and dignified series of sweeps around the place
designated by theory, cataloguing all the stars he observed, intending
afterward to sort out his observations, compare one with another, and
find out whether any one star had changed its position; because if it
had it must be the planet. Thus, without giving an excessive time to the
business, he accumulated a host of observations.

Professor Challis thus actually saw the planet twice--on August 4 and
August 12, 1846--without knowing it. If he had had a map of the heavens
containing telescopic stars down to the tenth magnitude, and if he had
compared his observations with this map as they were made, the process
would have been easy and the discovery quick. But he had no such map.
Nevertheless one was in existence. It had just been completed in that
country of enlightened method and industry--Germany. Doctor Bremiker had
not indeed completed his great work--a chart of the whole zodiac down to
stars of the tenth magnitude--but portions of it were completed, and the
special region where the new planet was expected to appear happened to
be among the portions finished. But in England this was not known.

Meanwhile Adams wrote to the astronomer-royal several additional
communications, making improvements in his theory, and giving what he
considered nearer and nearer approximations for the place of the planet.
He also now answered quite satisfactorily, but too late, the question
about the radius vector sent to him months before.

Leverrier was likewise engaged in improving this theory and in
considering how best the optical search could be conducted. Actuated
probably by the knowledge that in such matters as cataloguing and
mapping Germany was then, as now, far ahead of all the other nations, he
wrote in September (the same year that Sir John Herschel delivered his
eloquent address at Southampton) to Berlin. Leverrier wrote to Doctor
Galle, head of the observatory at Berlin, saying to him, clearly and
decidedly, that the new planet was now in or close to such and such a
position, and that if he would point his telescope to that part of the
heavens he would see it; and moreover that he would be able to tell it
from a star by its having a sensible magnitude, or disk, instead of
being a mere point.

Galle got the letter on September 23, 1846. That same evening he pointed
his telescope to the place Leverrier told him, and saw the planet. He
recognized it first by its appearance. To his practised eye it did seem
to have a small disk, and not quite the same aspect as an ordinary star.
He then consulted Bremiker's great star-chart, the part just engraved
and finished, and, sure enough, no such star was there. Undoubtedly it
was the planet.

The news flashed over Europe at the maximum speed with which news could
travel at that date (which was not very fast); and by October 1st
Professor Challis and Mr. Adams heard it at Cambridge, and realized that
in so far as there was competition in such a matter England was out of
the race.

It was an unconscious race to all concerned, however. The French
scientists knew nothing of the search in England. Adams's papers had
never been published; and very annoyed the French were when a claim was
set up in his behalf to a share in this magnificent discovery. As for
Adams himself, we are told that by no word did he show resentment at the
loss of the practical consummation of his discovery. His part in any
controversy that arose was calm and dignified; but for a time his
friends fought a public battle for his fame. It so happened that the
public took a keener interest than it usually takes in scientific
predictions; but the discussion has now settled down. All the world
honors the bright genius and mathematical skill of John Couch Adams, and
recognizes that he first solved the problem by calculation. All the
world, too, perceives clearly the no less eminent mathematical talents
of M. Leverrier, but it recognizes in him something more than the mere
mathematician--the man of energy, decision, and character.




(1846) THE ACQUISITION OF CALIFORNIA, Henry B. Dawson


In the history of the United States, the acquisition of California,
carrying with it that of New Mexico, was a peculiar and unusual event,
and one of immense significance in the expansion and development of the
Republic. Together with the annexation of Texas, it was the most
important result of the Mexican War. The California country, formerly an
indeterminate territory of vast extent, was settled by Spanish
missionaries in the seventeenth century. Their settlements within the
present limits of the State of California date from the first foundation
of San Diego in 1769. In 1822 the entire region called California became
a part of the Mexican Republic, and it remained a possession of Mexico
until the time of the transfer described below.

At the beginning of 1846 the population of California included, with
about two hundred thousand Indians, six thousand Mexicans and perhaps
two hundred Americans. War against Mexico had been declared in May,
1845, and already General Taylor had won the battles of Palo Alto and
Resaca de la Palma, and had compelled the surrender of Monterey. While
these operations were leading the United States forces to the rapid
accomplishment of their work in Mexico proper, other movements were
undertaken, the execution and outcome of which form the subject of Mr.
Dawson's narrative. In 1848 California and New Mexico were ceded to the
United States.

Immediately after the opening of hostilities in the valley of the Rio
Grande (March, 1846), among the expeditions which were organized by the
Federal authorities was one to move against and take possession of
California and New Mexico, two provinces in the northern part of the
enemy's country. The command of this expedition had been vested in
General Stephen W. Kearney, and the force under his command had
rendezvoused at Fort Leavenworth; and the most energetic measures had
been adopted to insure its early departure and its ultimate success.

Having completed all the arrangements, on June 26th the main body of
this expedition had moved from the fort; and after a rapid but
interesting march of eight hundred seventy-three miles, on August 18th
it entered and took possession of Santa Fé, the capital of New Mexico,
the Mexican forces, numbering four thousand, which had been collected to
defend the town, having dispersed, without offering the least
opposition, as it approached.

While these operations in New Mexico and on the western frontier of the
United States were taking place, Brevet-Captain John C. Frémont, who had
been engaged in explorations on the western slope of the Rocky
Mountains, had also revolutionized the Province of California, and, to
some extent at least, had anticipated the movements of the expedition
commanded by General Kearney. The character of his mission being
scientific and peaceful rather than warlike, he had not had an officer
or soldier of the regular army in his company; and his whole force had
consisted of sixty-two men employed by himself for security against the
Indians and for procuring subsistence in the wilderness and desert
country through which he had passed. For the purpose of obtaining game
for his men and grass for his horses, in an uninhabited part of
California, he had, during the winter of 1845-1846, solicited and
obtained permission from the Mexican authorities to winter in the Valley
of San Joaquin; but he had scarcely established himself before he
received advices that the Mexican commander was preparing to attack him
under the pretext that under the cover of a scientific mission he was
exciting the American settlers in that vicinity to revolt.

In view of this threatened attack, and for the purpose of repelling it,
Lieutenant Frémont immediately occupied a mountain which overlooked
Monterey--although it was thirty miles from that city--and having
intrenched it and raised the flag of the United States he waited the
approach of the enemy. After remaining there until March 10, 1846, he
retired to the northward, intending to march, by way of Oregon, to the
United States; but about the middle of May, after he had quietly passed
into Oregon, he had received information through Samuel Neal and Levi
Sigler, two hunters who had been sent after him from Lassen's _rancho_,
that the Mexican Governor of California was pursuing him, while the
Indians, by whom he was surrounded, instigated by the enemy, had shown
signs of hostility, and had killed or wounded five of his men.

Under these circumstances, on June 6, 1846, Lieutenant Frémont had
resolved to turn on his pursuers with the little party under his
command, and to seek safety, not merely in the overthrow of his
pursuers, but in that of the entire Government of Mexico in the Province
of California. Accordingly, on June 11th, Lieutenant Frémont, assisted
by Captain Merritt and fourteen of the settlers, had attacked and
captured an escort of horses destined for General Castro's
troops--Lieutenant Arce, fourteen men, and two hundred horses remaining
in his hands as the trophies of his victory. On the 15th the military
post of Sonoma was surprised, and General Vallejo, Captain Vallejo,
Colonel Greuxdon and several other officers, nine pieces of brass
cannon, two hundred fifty stands of muskets, and other stores and arms
were taken; and on the 25th the military commandant of the Province, who
had moved toward the post with a heavy force to retake it, was attacked
by Lieutenant Frémont and twenty men, and completely routed. Having thus
cleared that part of the Province north of the Bay of San Francisco of
the enemy, it is said that on July 5th Captain Frémont had assembled the
American settlers at Sonoma, addressed them upon the dangers of their
situation, and recommended a declaration of independence and war on
Mexico as the only remedy; and that the hardy frontiersmen promptly
accepted the proposal and raised the flag of independent California--a
bear and a star on a red ground.

While these revolutionary movements were destroying the power of Mexico
in the interior of the Province of California, and the expedition under
General Kearney--ignorant of the fact that the work had been done
already--was approaching its eastern borders for the same purpose, the
naval force of the United States in the Pacific, under Commodore Sloat,
had been assisting in the work of conquest. Having heard of the opening
of hostilities on the Rio Grande, the Commodore--then at
Mazatlan--hastened with the Savannah to Monterey in California, where he
arrived on July 2d, and on the 7th he took possession of the town
without opposition; the custom-house was seized, the American flag
raised, and California declared to be "henceforward a part of the United
States."

Within a few days intelligence of the action of Commodore Sloat was
received by the revolutionary leaders at Sonoma; and a battalion of
mounted riflemen which had been organized among them was immediately
moved to Monterey, the flag of the United States was substituted for the
"bear and star," and the authority of the Commodore was immediately
recognized. This battalion of mounted riflemen on its arrival at
Monterey, July 23, 1846, was mustered into the service of the United
States by Commodore Stockton, who had succeeded Commodore Sloat in
command of the squadron--Captain Frémont being appointed its commandant,
and Lieutenant A. H. Gillespie, of the Marines, its second officer--and
it was immediately despatched on the sloop-of-war Cyane to San Diego for
the purpose of cutting off the retreat of General Castro, of the Mexican
service, who had encamped and fortified his position near Ciudad de los
Angeles, while the Commodore with his sailors--who landed from the
Congress at San Pedro--moved against him in front. The expedition was
eminently successful, as the Mexicans on the approach of the Commodore
immediately evacuated their camp and fled in the greatest
confusion--although most of the principal officers were subsequently
captured--and, on August 13th, the Ciudad de los Angeles was occupied,
again without opposition, by the American troops and seamen, and the
conquest of California was apparently completed.

A short time afterward Commodore Stockton appointed Captain Frémont
Governor of the Territory into which, by the proclamation of Commodore
Sloat, the Province had been transformed; while Captain Gillespie was
left, with nineteen men, in possession of Los Angeles; Lieutenant
Talbot, of the Topographical Engineers, with nine men, was left at Santa
Barbara; and, with his squadron, Commodore Stockton proceeded to San
Francisco; while Governor Frémont, on September 8th, also moved to
Monterey.

The main body had no sooner left Los Angeles than the Californians--who
before the departure of the Commodore and the Governor had held secret
meetings for the purpose--rose in arms for the expulsion of the invaders
of their country. Indeed an attempt appears to have been intended before
the Governor left the city; but, by timely precautions, it had been
prevented; although the purpose and determination still continued and
were called into requisition at a more convenient season. The necessary
preparations having been made for that purpose under the directions of
José Antonio Carrillo, a professed conspirator of that vicinity, at an
early hour on the morning of September 23d, the quarters of Captain
Gillespie were attacked by Cerbulo Varela--a metamorphosed captain under
Governor Frémont--at the head of sixty-five men, under cover of a thick
fog. The morning was auspicious for such purposes, yet the Captain was
not surprised; and the twenty-one rifles which he controlled were
quickly brought to bear on the assailants, who retired soon afterward
with three of their number killed and several wounded; and at daylight
the remainder were driven from the town, with the loss of several taken
prisoners, by a few men under Lieutenant Hensley, and Doctor Gilchrist,
of the navy.

The insurgents who were thus expelled from the city formed a nucleus
around which the disaffected gathered; and as the party gained strength
day by day, it harassed the little garrison and killed one of its
number. There was but little concert of action in its ranks, however;
and as the rival aspirants to power struggled for authority, while the
numbers rapidly increased, the efficiency of the insurgents was but
slightly increased. At length, in a spirit of compromise, Captain
Antonio Flores was urged to take the command of the party, and
reluctantly accepted it; and he soon found himself at the head of six
hundred men armed with lances, _escopetas_, and a brass six-pounder,
light and well mounted.

In the mean time the little garrison had found an old honeycombed iron
six-pounder, and had drilled out the spike, cleaned and mounted it, and
by melting the lead pipes of a distillery had provided--unknown to the
insurgents--thirty rounds of ball and grape for it. Two other pieces
having been added to this, on the following day, the little garrison and
its gallant commander resolved to die rather than surrender,
notwithstanding the extreme efforts which had been made to strengthen
its position, and the great fatigue which was incident thereto. To
render his little party still more secure, however, on September 27th
Captain Gillespie withdrew his command from his quarters in the city and
occupied a height which commanded it, when he strengthened his position
and prepared for an obstinate defence.

No sooner had this movement been effected than Captain Flores sent Don
Eulogeo Celis to inquire "on what terms Captain Gillespie would
surrender the city"; and that officer, after consulting with his
subordinates, answered that if the enemy would consent that he should
march out of the city with the honors of war, colors flying and drums
beating; that he should take everything with him; that he should be
furnished with means for transporting his baggage and provisions, at his
own expense; and that the enemy should not come within a league of his
party while on its line of march to San Pedro, he would accept those
terms, and no others would be considered; and Captain Flores should be
held responsible for any damage which might ensue, in case they were
rejected. After some negotiations these terms were offered by Captain
Flores and accepted by Captain Gillespie; and, on September 29th, the
garrison began its march; reached San Pedro on the same evening, and on
October 4th embarked on the Vandalia, after spiking its three old
guns--an exploit which, when the circumstances under which Captain
Gillespie's force, the strength of his opponent, and the temper of the
people among whom he moved are taken into consideration, may well be
ranked as one of the most brilliant feats of that remarkable campaign.

While these difficulties were surrounding Captain Gillespie at Los
Angeles, Lieutenant Talbot, at Santa Barbara with his nine men, was not
less dangerously situated; and when the former had made terms with the
insurgents, Manuel Garpio with two hundred men moved against Lieutenant
Talbot, surrounded the town, and demanded his surrender, offering two
hours for his deliberation. As the men had resolved that they would not
give up their arms, and as the barracks were untenable with so small a
force, the Lieutenant resolved to abandon the town and push for the
hills; and, strange to say, he marshalled his men and marched out of the
town without opposition--"those who lay on the road retreated to the
main force, which was on the lower side of the town."

Having reached the hills, he encamped, and remained there eight days,
when the Californians endeavored to rout him out, but were repulsed with
the loss of a horse. The insurgents then offered him his arms and
freedom if he would engage to remain neutral in the anticipated
hostilities, but "he sent word back that he preferred to fight." They
next built fires about him and burned him out; but in doing so they did
not capture or injure him, and he pushed through the mountains for
Monterey; and after a month's travel, in which he endured unheard-of
hardships and suffering, he reached that place in safety.

Intelligence of the insurrection having reached Commodore Stockton at
San Francisco and Lieutenant-Colonel Frémont at Sacramento, both took
immediate steps to check its progress and to punish the offenders. In
conformity with the Commodore's orders Lieutenant-Colonel Fremont
hastened to San Francisco, whence he embarked, with one hundred sixty
men, on the ship Sterling, for Santa Barbara, to which port the frigate
Savannah (Captain Mervine) had previously been ordered; while, on the
same day, the Commodore in person sailed for the same port in the
Congress.

The latter vessel reached San Pedro on October 6th, and at sunrise on
the 7th Captain Mervine landed with his seamen and marines; and after
being joined by Captain Gillespie and his brave-hearted little party, he
found himself at the head of three hundred ten men, "as brave and as
valiant as ever were led to battle upon any field." At eight o'clock the
party commenced its march toward Los Angeles, Captain Gillespie being in
advance, and when the column reached the hills of Palo Verde the
insurgents showed themselves and opened a fire with their _escopetas_.
The march was rapid; and the jolly tars, unused to such extended
journeys, appear to have suffered from its effects; in consequence of
which, although the enemy gradually fell back before the advancing
column, between one and two o'clock, when near the Rancho de los
Domingos, fourteen miles from San Pedro, it became necessary to halt and
encamp for the night.

As may have been expected, the sailors and marines were ashore, and the
strict discipline which "the deck" had inculcated appears to have been
left on board the frigate. As a necessary consequence the camp displayed
but little of the order which such a locality should have insured; and
many and marvellous were the adventures of that night; while, on the
other hand, the enemy profited by the delay, by the moral effect of the
disorder with which the march had been conducted, and by the entire
absence of any artillery.

On the following morning at daylight the column was again put in motion;
and with Captain Gillespie's men in front, in still greater disorder
than on the preceding day, it moved toward Los Angeles, twelve miles
distant. It had marched only three miles, when, posted behind a small
stream which intersected the line of march, the advance of the
insurgents--seventy-six men, with a small fieldpiece, under José Antonio
Carrillo--was discovered in front; and, as the column approached, a fire
was opened on it, which was answered with a characteristic shout. The
volunteers--Captain Gillespie's command--pressed forward; and by taking
advantage of the neighboring shelter they drove the enemy and compelled
him to abandon his fieldpiece; but before it could be reached and taken
possession of, Captain Mervine gave orders to withdraw. With great
indignation, therefore, the volunteers discontinued the action, and
after picking up his killed and wounded--harassed by the enemy who
pressed after the column, and covered by the volunteers and sixteen
marines, under Captain Gillespie--Captain Mervine slowly and sadly fell
back to San Pedro, where he arrived about dark on the same day,
"Thirteen noble tars were buried on the island in front of San Pedro,"
the victims of this badly managed expedition.

On October 23d the Commodore reached San Pedro--Lieutenant-Colonel
Frémont meanwhile having returned to Monterey--and on the 31st he sailed
for San Diego, which had been invested by the insurgents and needed
assistance. He reached that port a few days afterward; and, with the
assistance of Captain Gillespie's command, the besiegers were repelled,
and a fort was erected to protect the town from similar troubles in
future.

Strenuous efforts were made to obtain horses for the use of the troops,
with some degree of success; and Commodore Stockton sailed toward San
Pedro again. During this temporary absence of the Commodore the
insurgents appear (on November 18, 1846) to have moved against San Diego
a second time, and were again driven back by Captain Gillespie and the
volunteers and marines under his command; and on December 3d a messenger
came into the town bearing a letter from General Kearney, apprising the
Commodore of his approach, and expressing a wish that a communication
might be opened with him that he might be informed of the state of
affairs in California.

It appeared that after the General had taken Santa Fé (on October 1st)
he had moved from that city with the regular cavalry which he had
brought there. Soon afterward (October 7th) he had reduced his force to
one hundred men--sending the remainder back to Santa Fé--and after an
interesting march overland, on December 3, 1846, he had reached Warner's
_rancheria_, the outpost of civilization in California. From there a
letter had been despatched to San Diego by Mr. Stokes, an Englishman who
lived in a neighboring _rancheria_; and on the 4th the command had moved
fifteen miles nearer to the city.

On the receipt of General Kearney's letter, Commodore Stockton
despatched Captain Gillespie to meet him, with a letter of welcome. The
Captain was accompanied by Lieutenant Beale, Midshipman Duncan, ten
seamen, Captain Gibson's company of riflemen (twenty-five men), and a
fieldpiece; and on the 5th he reached the General's camp; when, having
learned on his way that the insurgents were encamped at San Pasqual,
nine miles from the camp, Lieutenant Hammond was sent out by General
Kearney to reconnoitre the enemy's position.

At a very early hour on the 6th the troops were put in motion, Captain
Johnston, with twelve dragoons, forming the advance-guard; the main body
of the General's party, under Captain Moore, following next; after which
moved Captain Gillespie, with Captain Gibson and his small company; and
Lieutenant Davidson, with the General's howitzers brought up the rear.
When the column had reached a hill which overlooked the valley of the
San Pasqual, the insurgents' encampment, it was halted, and the General
gave the final orders to his command: "One thrust of the sabre is worth
a dozen cuts; and depend upon them more than upon the carbines and
rifles." Without further delay the column advanced down the hill; and as
soon as Captain Johnston had struck the plain with his twelve dragoons,
having mistaken the purport of an order from the General, he uttered a
yell, and, without waiting for the support of the main body, dashed on
the heavy ranks of the enemy, falling a victim of his own indiscretion.

The main body hastened, by a flank movement down the hill, to support
the charge of the advance, and received the enemy's fire from an Indian
village on its right flank; but the enemy waited to do no further
mischief, and fled from the charge of the advance before the line could
be formed. Perceiving the defection of the enemy, Captain Moore, with a
portion of his command, pursued the fugitives down the right of the
valley, while Captain Gillespie, with his volunteers, did the same on
the left side--the latter taking prisoner Pablo Beja, the insurgents'
second officer. In this pursuit, however, the ranks of the Americans
were greatly broken; and as the Mexicans far outnumbered them, they soon
afterward made a stand, using their lances with good effect. Captain
Moore fell, pierced in the breast by nine lances; the General was
severely wounded, and his life was saved, from an attack on his rear, by
a ball from Lieutenant Emory. Captain Gillespie was attacked by seven
Californians, received three wounds, and saved himself with great
difficulty; Captain Gibson received two wounds; Lieutenant Hammond
received nine lance wounds in the breast, and many others were severely
injured. For five minutes the enemy held the ground; when, the main body
of the Americans having come up, he again turned and fled.

In this spirited affair about eighty Americans were engaged; while of
the Californians there is said to have been one hundred sixty, under
Andreas Pico. Of the former, Captains Moore and Johnston, Lieutenant
Hammond, and sixteen men were killed; and General Kearney, Captains
Gillespie and Gibson, Lieutenant Warner, and eleven men were wounded;
while of the latter it is said twenty-eight were killed and wounded.

The dead were buried as soon as night closed in; the wounded were
properly attended to by the single surgeon who was with the party; and
ambulances were prepared for their conveyance to San Diego, thirty-nine
miles distant; and on the morning of the 7th the order to march was
given--the column taking the right-hand road over the hills, and leaving
the River San Bernardo to the left--the enemy retiring as it advanced. A
proper regard for the comfort of the wounded compelled the column to
move slowly, and it was afternoon before it reached the San Bernardo
_rancheria_ (Mr. Snook's). After a short halt at that place the column
moved down into the valley; and immediately afterward the hills on the
rear of the column (around the _rancheria_) were covered with
Californian horsemen, a portion of whom dashed at full speed past the
Americans to occupy a hill which commanded the route of the latter,
while the remainder of the party threatened the rear of the column.
Thirty or forty of the enemy quickly occupied the hill referred to; and
as the column came up six or eight Americans filed off to the left, and,
under Lieutenant Emory, charged up the hill, when the Californians
delivered their fire and fled, five of their number having been killed
or wounded by the rifles of the assailants.

The wounded having been removed with great difficulty, the cattle having
been lost, and the danger of losing the sick and the packs being great,
the General determined to halt at that place and await the arrival of
reinforcements, for which messengers had been sent to San Diego on the
morning of the 6th. Accordingly the Americans occupied the high ground
on which the action had been fought, bored holes for water, killed their
fattest mules for meat, and awaited the arrival of their friends, until
the morning of the 11th, when they were joined by one hundred seamen and
eighty marines, under Lieutenant Gray, who had been sent out to meet