INTRODUCTION 

MICHAEL WHITE was one of the earliest foreigners to settle in California. 
He was characterized by Benjamin Wilson as "a man of roving disposition." 
White made a number of sea voyages; claimed to have taken part in the 
first shipbuilding enterprises in California; traveled from California to 
New Mexico and back in 1839-40; was a pioneer on Catalina Island, in the 
Cajon Pass near San Bernardino, and in what is now San Marino where his 
adobe home still stands. It seems probable that White's Point near San 
Pedro is named for him. He was one of the first to bring a wagon from 
northern California to southern California. He had a large family and many 
of his descendants are living in southern California. 

The most important source of information about this pioneer is his own 
testimony given to Thomas Savage for Hubert Howe Bancroft, printed in full 
for the first time in this volume. Bancroft not only collected books, 
pamphlets, manuscripts and newspapers, but sent out his associates to 
interview pioneers. So it was that in 1877 when Michael White was 76 years 
of age, with a clear memory, he told some of the details of his eventful 
life. These accounts given verbally have a freshness and vitality often 
lacking in formal writing. 

The Bancroft Dictations, preserved in the Bancroft Library, University of 
California, Berkeley, were an important source for Bancroft's seven volume 
History of California and have frequently been used by later historians. 
Yet most of the dictations remain unpublished, partly due to editorial 
problems. There are problems of transcription, punctuation, irregular 
arrangement, irrelevant or inaccurate passages. Sometimes language was 
used which is not normally considered printable. In this volume an 
endeavor has been made to let Michael White speak with a minimum of 
editing. 

The Early California Travels Series has drawn heavily upon Bancroft 
sources, including printing the reminiscences of Job Dye, Joel P. Walker, 
William Glover, Dr. R. T. Maxwell, Vassili Tarakanoff, Alexander Markoff, 
and Jose Francisco Palomares. Thanks are due to George Hammond, Director 
of the Bancroft Library for permission to use manuscripts in his care, and 
for the cooperation of his staff. An excellent article based on the 
manuscript printed here is Michael White: Sailor of Fortune by Helen S. 
Giffen, in the Quarterly of the Historical Society of Southern California, 
September 1940. Many of the notes used here are based on those by Mrs. 
Giffen. Others who assisted in the preparation of this work include L. 
Burr Belden, K. L. Carver, Catherine MacLean Loud, Allen R. Ottley, W. W. 
Robinson, and Fred Rogers. The translations from the Spanish are by George 
Shochat. 

The Topographical Sketch of the Los Angeles Plains by E. O. C. Ord is 
reproduced from the Report of P. T. Tyson upon the Geology of California, 
31st Congress, 1st Session Senate Ex. Doc. No. 47. The end sheet maps of 
White's land grants in San Marino and San Bernardino are from the Los 
Angeles Recorder's Office and San Bernardino Recorder's Office. Other 
acknowledgments appear in the notes. 

GLEN DAWSON. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

MICHAEL C. WHITE, by Thomas Savage 15 
GULF OF CALIFORNIA .......... 17 
SANDWICH ISLANDS .......... 25 
SAN FRANCISCO .......... 26 
FLOOD .......... 28 
SANTA BARBARA .......... 28 
SAN PEDRO .......... 30 
MARRIAGE AND SAN BLAS .......... 32 
LOS NIETOS .......... 33 
REVOLUTION AGAINST MICHELTORENA .......... 39 
NEW MEXICO .......... 43 
THE BATTLE OF CHINO .......... 49 
IMPRISONMENT .......... 56 
RETURN HOME .......... 61 
EULALIA PEREZ .......... 65 
GOLD RUSH .......... 75 
WAGON ROUTE .......... 80 
BANDITS .......... 85 
MISSION FATHERS .......... 92 



Page 15

MICHAEL C. WHITE 

THIS AGED MAN lives on his ranch San Isidro at some distance from the San 
Gabriel mission. He has been ever since he settled in California known 
among the native Californians as Miguel Blanco, and, indeed, the 
certificate of his marriage existing in the archives of said mission, 22 
November 1831, calls him Miguel Maria Blanco. He has a large family of 
children and grandchildren, and is now reduced to poverty, having to sell 
his ranch to pay off encumbrances thereon. 

Mr. White is an Englishman, who believes that the Americans have treated 
him badly; he accuses Americans of having swindled him out of lands and 
robbed him of other property so that after having labored hard to secure a 
competency for himself and family, he finds himself in his old age, 
reduced to penury. All this misfortune he lays at the door of Americans, 
their authorities, and laws. 

Apart of that, I found him genial and obliging, willing to impart what he 
knew. It is evident that he 

Page 16

is a man who gave but little of his attention to politics, and would take 
no part in civil strife.(*)

Mrs. Florinda Plaisance, granddaughter of Michael White, described him as 
of medium height and weight, with blonde hair which he let grow long in 
later life. The frontispiece is based closely on a portrait secured by 
Mrs. Plaisance, a copy of which is in the Huntington Library. 
The narrative appearing on the annexed pages I took down from his 
dictation at the house of his son-in-law, Mr. [Ygnacio] Alvarado at a 
short distance from this town of Pomona. 

Mr. White is in very feeble health; his hand is extremely shaky, his 
memory seems to be quite fresh, and I am led to believe from the little I 
have seen of him, but much more from what others have said of his 
character, that he is a truthful man, a man who means always to speak the 
truth.

Pomona, December 16th, 1877. 

THOS. SAVAGE. 

(* Michael White as a resident of long standing was considered an 
authority on early history. For example, when in 1864 B. D. Wilson and 
party found remains of cabins on Wilson's Peak, White was asked concerning 
their origin. In this case he knew nothing about them. Reid, History of 
Pasadena, 395.)



Page 17

GULF OF CALIFORNIA(*)

I, MICHAEL CLARINGBUD WHITE (generally known in California under the name 
of Miguel Blanco) was born in Kent (England) and brought up there till I 
was 13 years old. My father and his father were named James White, and 
were farmers. My mother's maiden name was Elizabeth MacTed.

At 13 I was apprenticed to the master of the ship Perseverance of London, 
whose name was William Mott. I was with him 2 years and 9 months in the 
whaling business, was left ashore at San Jose del Cabo in Lower 
California, that was in 1817 in my 16th year, for I was born on the 10th 
(Shrove tuesday) of Feb. 1802. 

(* The chapter headings do not appear in the manuscript. H. D. Barrows who 
knew Michael White well and interviewed him in 1881 gives White's 
birthplace as Margate in Kent and the date as February 10, 1801. (Michael 
White, The Pioneer in Annual Publication of the Historical Society of 
Southern California, 1896.))

Page 18

I went ashore with liberty for a walk, hired a horse and went to take a 
ride in the country. The horse fell down, caught my foot under it and put 
it out of joint. The horse ran away to the house it belonged. The women of 
the house on seeing the horse without a rider, and the saddle somewhat out 
of gear, came to where I was, picked me up and carried me home. They 
pulled my foot till they got it in place again, and took care of me till I 
was well. They were very good people. The old man's name was Ignacio 
Marquez and his wife's Lucia. They treated me with the utmost kindness, 
and, I, of course, did all I could to help them. I was in the place and 
vicinity about 15 months. The authorities never interfered with me. 

I finally went to La Paz and shipped on a small Mexican schooner called 
the Flor de Mayo, commanded by a Spaniard named Pepe Sailas. That was in 
1819. La Paz was then under the Mexican flag. There were no houses there 
then, and the vessel came to exchange flour and other things for cheeses, 
preserves, and other country produce. We repaired to Mazatlan, where there 
was no other building but the Custom House. From there went to Guaimas--
not a sign of a building there but 

Page 19

the Custom House. After arriving in Guaimas the master Sailas who was also 
owner of the schooner, went off to his home in the country, and placed the 
vessel in my charge. I knew how to sail her having been taught navigation 
on board the Perseverance. Besides, not much knowledge of navigation was 
necessary to sail on the coast. 

Went back to La Paz, and then returned to Guaimas. When I reached Guaimas, 
the owner came on board and we went together to Mazatlan calling at La 
Paz. I left him in Mazatlan, as I got a fit of home sickness--wanted to go 
back to Old England, and I had saved up a little money. Embarked for 
Acapulco as passenger on a Mexican Brig, touched at San Blas and there 
with a boat of said Brig re-captured by hard fighting an American Brig 
named the Lancaster (a Baltimore clipper) which had been taken by some 
French and Spanish people to make a privateer of. Those pirates that had 
captured the American Brig were carried to Guadalajara, tried and shot--
that was in 1820. I was a witness before the English and American Consuls 
on the hill in San Blas. The English Consul was named Forbes. I don't 
remember the name of the American Consul, and never wanted to, as 

Page 20

he was a mean man, who offered me 5$ for the service I had rendered in 
recapturing the Brig. I told him to stick it up his fundament, to his 
face. I was mad as well as ashamed of the insult. The English Consul told 
him that he had grievously insulted me, that I was entitled to claim 1/3 
the value of the vessel, and asked me if I wanted to make the claim. I 
answered no. After that we went on to Acapulco, where I was taken sick--
found no vessel going home. 

In the fight for the recapture of the Lancaster, I had only 4 men, and 
took her without anything but a boathook from the 24 men that held her. I 
was wounded on the shin by a big Frenchman with a cutlass. He struck at my 
head, but I jumped back, and fell on my back. The cutlass peeled my skin. 
In San Blas the British Consul told me to stop that night in his house but 
I had the two pistols I had taken from the Frenchman, and started off to 
go down the hill to the port where I had a girl. In going down I saw three 
men scuffling on the road and thought they were waiting for me, but it was 
not so. They had robbed and killed a poor man, and I stepped over him. He 
was not quite dead yet and breathed hard. I got down to the port and told 
the Alcalde Lorenzo (his surname I did 

Page 21

not know), who was an Italian by birth. He advised me to hush up. The 
murdered man had been sent from there with 2000$. The reason he told me to 
say nothing was that I would be detained and lose my passage. 

As I said before, on my arrival at Acapulco I was taken sick with fever. I 
had to spend all the money I had, and to sell all my clothes, had nothing 
left but a Scotch cap, a duck frock and pair of pantaloons, no shirt, 
shoes or anything else. I was then entirely destitute, and no vessel there 
to get away in. 

Then there came in a small Mexican hermaphrodite Brig belonging to two 
brothers, Felipe and Nicolas Lastra. She was called the Eagle, but the 
owners being natives of Paita (Peru) people called her the Paitena, 
indeed, she was built in Paita. 

I was on the beach one day when one of the owners came on shore, spoke to 
me in broken English, asked me if I had been sick. I answered in the 
affirmative, and he told me that I was sick because I had had nothing to 
eat--asked me to go on board. I asked him if he thought I could be of any 
use to him on the vessel, and he said "Never mind--go on board." I did so 
and got something to eat. In the evening he asked me if 

Page 22

I could repair sails. I told him I had done it. He got me to repair the 
foresail, and finally asked me to go as mate with him, which I did, very 
glad of the chance. He paid me 1$ each day for the time we laid in port, 
then I shipped as mate with 30$ pr month, and the privilege of taking two 
mules' loads of tobacco or any other goods that might be smuggled. Came 
with him to La Paz, thence to Guaimas; he then delivered the Brig over to 
me saying I was as smart as he, and even a little better. I sailed her as 
master from that time till the year 1826. Then there came in at Guaimas a 
Philadelphia Brig, the Gen. Sucre and as I had made some money I concluded 
to go to Sandwich Islands to see if I could find a British vessel there to 
carry me home. All the time I was in Guaimas, I was engaged in smuggling 
money out of the country for the priests. It was the time when the 
Government were expelling the Spanish priests from Mexico and did not 
allow them to take out their money without paying a heavy duty, nearly one 
half of the amount. I went over to the California side in the Brig to take 
in pearl-oyster shells--met Tova the Governor living on his ranch Dolores 
betwixt La Paz and Loreto--he knew me and gave me some goats which I 

Page 23

took over to Guaimas, and they served me as a cover to bring money away 
from the shore. 

When the money was on the point, a small light was shown. In the morning I 
would go ashore in the boat for grass. Took in the pigs of silver, and 
covered them with grass, and then came on board. The Custom House officer 
on board was invited into the cabin to take his manana [morning] or las 
once [eleven o'clock] and whilst he was down there, the silver was pitched 
in and stowed away under the pearl shells--he never saw the silver, but he 
was paid for closing his eyes. Custom house boat never searched me, as 
they did other boats. I was called the "Old man." The fact is all knew I 
was serving the priests, whose influence was very great. 

From there we went to Mazatlan and the priest asked me if I could go and 
fetch on board two bars of silver (1000$ each) in the day time. I answered 
yes. I went, got the two bars lashed them under my shirt with my belt, and 
passed in sight of the Custom House officers and took them on board. I 
pretended to be as drunk as a loon, and kept singing and hallooing. When I 
got on the boat I was worn out, untied the belt and dropped the bars in 
the 

Page 24

bottom of the boat, at same time dropped my boat cloak over them. I had a 
Frenchman with me, who would not pull. I had sculled the boat a little 
ways. He got fighting me, got me under, and was striking me. I was trying 
to keep him off with my arms. He stood over me, and in that predicament I 
got hold of his privy parts and hove him over board, where I left him--he 
asked me if I intended to leave him there to drown, and I answered yes, 
"drown and be damned, you Jonny Crapeau." He begged hard to be rescued, 
and when I saw he was well worn out, pulled him on board--he could do me 
no harm then. Capt. Pittores of the Philadelphia Brig saw the whole 
transaction. He came on board and told the Frenchman to get his chest up, 
paid him off and we carried him off in the boat to one of the islands of 
Mazatlan where we left him, and that's the last I ever saw of the 
Frenchman. 

That evening we got under weigh and proceeded to off San Blas, being 
afraid that the Frenchman might report our doings. Two canoes came off to 
us and brought on board 36 bars of silver (1000$ each). 



Page 25

SANDWICH ISLANDS 

THENCE WENT to Sandwich Islands.(*) Were 20 days on the pasage, left the 
vessel there. 

There were no ships going home from the Islands. Stayed there some time 
and finally shipped upon a Sandwich man of war Brig named Kameahmeah(**)
(the King's name); I was first Lieut. of her. We knocked around the 
islands gathering in the taxes. I was there from latter part of 1826 till 
May 1828. 

Then Mr. [Richard] Charlton, the English Consul, had a Brig called the 
Dolly --he employed me to bring her to this coast as a trader, 

(* According to H. D. Barrows, White had been in the Sandwich Islands in 
1816 prior to coming to Lower California.)

(** The Kamehameha was a vessel owned by Boki, Hawaiian high chief, member 
of Kamehameha II suite on the voyage to England, 1823-25. Boki and his 
ship were mysteriously lost in 1829. (Bernice Judd, Voyages to Hawaii 
before 1860, 1929.))

Page 26

and to buy horses and send them there.(*) My agreement with him was that 
if I could better myself here in California I was to stop. 

(* Bancroft, III, 146. lists an American brig, Dhaulle (or Dolly?), 
William Warden, master, at Monterey, July 1829 from Honolulu; carried 47 
horses to the Islands. Bancroft lists White's arrival in California as 
1829 rather than 1828, but indicates some doubt as to the date of arrival. 
In any case when Bancroft wrote, White was a candidate for the title of 
the oldest living pioneer.)


SAN FRANCISCO 

I FIRST went into San Francisco (which was not then a port of entry), 
where I bought two fine otter skins in exchange for a barrel of whiskey; 
there was an American ship belonging to Gale lying in port getting off 
hides. I was taking my barrel on shore in the night, and there was a man 
under the hides belonging to the Ship whom I had not seen. Just as the 
purchaser got the barrel on a pack horse, the man under the hides jumped 
up, the horse started, the barrel fell, stove its head in, the purchaser 
went after his horse, and I went off on board. I had the otter skins on my 
vessel--he lost his whiskey and I saved the skins. The next morning the 
sailors went after the hides, saw the whiskey 

Page 27

and got drunk. In a short time I could see 10 men drunk and fighting. I 
stood there and laughed, but knew well it was no time to stay there. I up 
anchor and started for Monterey, stowed away all the costly things where 
they could not be easily discovered by the Government officers. Entered 
there and a Custom House officer was put on board of me to prevent my 
smuggling. He was Jose Castro, who afterwards was so prominent in 
California history. As soon as we got off Punto de Pinos, Jose Castro came 
to me and said "Well mi capitan, with the little that the Government gives 
me, and the little that you will give me, will make me a pretty good 
salary, won't it be so?" I answered yes, and we understood one another. He 
never saw me smuggle. Whenever I had anything of that kind to do, he went 
down into the cabin and attacked the bottle of liquor. We were very good 
friends from that time to the day of his death. 

I left the Brig in Santa Barbara and sent her back to Sandwich Islands, 
with 60 heads of horses. That was in 1828 in the month of August, don't 
remember the day.(*) 

(* Barrows writes "In 1828, as captain of his own vessel, the Dolly, he 
engaged in the coasting trade, visiting Bodega, then occupied by the 
Russians, and from thence coming to San Francisco, Monterey, Santa 
Barbara, San Pedro and San Diego, and then back to Santa Barbara, where he 
went ashore to stay. Here he bought sixty-four horses, which the Dolly in 
charge of the mate took to the Sandwich Islands.")

Page 28

FLOOD 

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 were 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.(*)

(* This paragraph and the section on New Mexico are not in chronological 
order, but the arrangement has been left just as it appears in the 
manuscript.)


SANTA BARBARA 

IN 1829 I was in Santa Barbara when the revolted troops of Monterey and 
San Francisco, under Joaquin Solis, were expected to come and 

Page 29

attack the place. I was engaged in building a schooner at a place called 
Malcasquetan (it was afterward called la Goleta, in consequence of the 
building of the Schooner there), when I was sent for by Capt. Jose de la 
Guerra y Noriega, who told me to guard his house with the 18 men I had 
under my superintendence constructing the vessel for him. He ordered me 
that if any one came I was to cry out three times Quien Vive ? [Who goes 
there?] and if no satisfactory answer was returned to the 3rd call, I was 
to fire. My men all got drunk and he told me I had better stand the first 
sentry. I told him all right, but I thought to myself that I had never 
walked with a musket on my shoulder. 

I had a good old fashioned fowling piece. In the night I saw the old 
Captain go out to pass water, and as he was coming I cocked my gun, and 
hallooed out, Quien vive tres veces ! [Who goes there three times!] I was 
not going to bother giving quien vive, quien vive, quien vive ! He cried 
out, yo, yo, picaro, tu estas mas borracho que los otros; anda a dormir, 
[I, you rascal; you are drunker than the others; go to sleep!] which was 
precisely what I wanted, and did go to sleep. The next day he asked me if 
I would have shot him--answered yes, laughing, 

Page 30

and pretended that I had not understood him as to the manner of giving the 
Quien vive three times. His wife and I had a real good laugh at the old 
Captain's expense. The good old man, I hope he is in heaven, for he 
deserved it. Every time I went to his house, he would cry out to his wife, 
"Get out the money, Michael wants plata [silver]." I would say "No, I have 
come for provisions," but he would insist that I should have some money--
this was his way, invariably. 

The Commandante General Echeandia was there; the Commandante of the place 
was Don Romualdo Pacheco, father of ex-Governor and member of Congress 
Pacheco. The revolutionists fired several cannon shot at the presidio--
they had possession of the mission, but they dissolved themselves and went 
back to Monterey. I don't know the particulars of that affair, except that 
the revolution was put down, the chief leaders captured and sent to 
Mexico. 


SAN PEDRO 

THE BUILDING of the Schooner was discontinued. An American Brig called the 
Danube(*)

(* For other references to the Santa Barbara and Danube see Bancroft III, 
140, 146.)

Page 31

was wrecked at San Pedro on Christmas eve and Captain de la Guerra bought 
her. I had a cousin named Henry Paine whom I had seen once in La Paz and 
met in Santa Barbara when I got there in 1828. He was my chief carpenter 
in constructing the Schooner. The Captain prior to buying the Danube had 
sent him to San Pedro to survey the wreck, get her off, and put such 
repairs on her as might be necessary. He went to San Pedro and she proved 
to be a splendid vessel but could not be got off. I went afterward to San 
Pedro; started on 30 December and got there on New Year's eve. 

We had everything ready to get her off, and were waiting for the tide to 
rise, when a gale came on and brought her high and dry. She got on the top 
of the bank so that I could walk off her bowsprit on the shore. She was 
knocked all to pieces, and we saved all the materials and built a schooner 
out of them. She was named the Santa Barbara, and was the first vessel 
ever built in California. She was placed under command of a man called 
Thomas Robinson,(*) a Nantucket man. 

(* Thomas M. Robbins came to California in 1823. In 1846 he was granted 
Santa Catalina Island.)

Page 32

MARRIAGE AND SAN BLAS 

AFTER FINISHING that job, we built another schooner for the Mission San 
Gabriel in 1830, that was named the Guadalupe, and put under command of 
William Richardson, an Englishman who in after years owned Saucelito and 
was Capt. of the port of San Francisco. 

She made a trip to San Blas and came back, and then I took charge of her 
myself some 8 days after I was married [1831] to Ma. del Rosario Guillen, 
daughter of the famous centenarian Eulalia Perez, and Miguel Antonio 
Guillen. I went in her to Mazatlan and San Blas. Richardson and another 
man named Manl. Somali went with me as super cargoes. The cargo consisted 
of dry tongues, olives, wine, dried beef, soap, Mission aguardiente and 
other trifles, and two priests, not of the missionaries here. One of them 
was Father Jesus Martinez who married me. 

The Guadalupe measured 99 90/100 tons--was a topsail schooner, and carried 
about 150 tons of cargo. 

I was away less than one year and came back in a hermaphrodite Brig called 
Eagle, the same one I had charge of some years before in the Gulf of 
California. I was engaged in trading, 

Page 33

working, carpentering and one thing and another during my absence. I wrote 
to my wife (who thought I must be dead), but got to California before my 
letters did. I was here about one month before my letters.(*) This brings 
me to 1832.

(* White did not hear from his family in England until eighteen years 
after he left home. (Barrows.))


LOS NIETOS 

WHEN I came back I went to live on the Nietos ranch, and set up a little 
store. Was appointed Alcalde. 

I forgot to mention that when I was in San Diego in the latter part of 
1831, on the point of going to sea, I received a letter from Father Jose 
Sanchez, missionary of San Gabriel, informing me of the events connected 
with the revolution against Commandante Gen. Victoria, that Capt. Romualdo 
Pacheco had been killed in a fight between Los Angeles and Cahuenga, and 
Victoria severely wounded, and that my mother in law, Mrs. Eulalia Perez 
de Guillen, was nursing him. Victoria brought me letters from home and 
delivered them to me at San Blas. He was taken there by American ship 

Page 34

California, Capt. Bradshaw from San Diego. By the bye the old lady married 
during my absence an old Spanish artilleryman named Juan Marine, a 
Catalan. 

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

In the mean time Gen. Figueroa had been Gefe Politico [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 Jose Sepulveda was 
the Juez de Paz [Justice of the Peace] in Los Angeles. I got from him a 
letter directing me to meet him next day at Los Angeles with every man 
capable of bearing arms residing in my jurisdiction. Next day I could only 
get together 3 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 Sepulveda--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 

Page 35

to alight and go in. There were sitting in the office (I think it was in 
the latter part of Feb. 1837) Don Jose Castro, Don Juan Bautista Alvarado 
and my brother-in-law, the Alferez Isidoro Guillen. The first words 
Sepulveda 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, vayase 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 Ingles es ese tan chalan?" [What kind of Englishman is this smart 
horse-trader?] Castro replied, "Ese es mi viejo Capitan, y mi discipulo, 

Page 36

pero el discipulo ha llegado a saber mas 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 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 
Gonalez, 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 abejenos [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 

Page 37

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 4 flasks I gave to an old woman living at the Coyotes, nearly 
halfway between Santa Ana and Los Nietos. 

Page 38 [blank]

Page 39

REVOLUTION AGAINST MICHELTORENA 

NOTHING MORE happened in which I had the slightest participation until the 
revolution against Micheltorena in 1844-5. 

In the mean time [1843] I had moved to the place I now have at the Mission 
San Gabriel, called rancho San Isidro,(*) and was Alcalde. 

In Feb. 1845 I was sent for by the Juez de Paz Juan Sepulveda (now living 
in San Pedro) of Los Angeles. I remember the words of his letter that if I 
did not present myself in Los 

(* Granted to White as Michael Maria White by Pio Pico, last Mexican 
Governor of California on March 27, 1845. Confirmed as an area of about 78 
acres by the United States in 1872. (Paten Book 1, page 212, Recorder's 
Office, Los Angeles.) The original adobe has been restored by K. L. Carver 
and others and is a central feature of the San Marino High School. Chain 
of title and other information in typed folder, Restoration of the Old 
Adobe, by K. L. Carver, 1951. 
Benjamin Hayes and his wife visited White's San Isidro rancho in 1852 and 
Mrs. Hayes wrote a description of the visit. Pioneer Notes, Diaries of 
Judge Benjamin Hayes, pages 88-89.)

Page 40

Angeles by 10 o'clock on the day following the date, I was to be adjudged 
"traidor a la patria" [traitor to the country]. I went in there and asked 
the Judge what he wanted me for. Just at this moment a fellow came and 
took my hat away, and then brought it back to me with a red ribbon around 
it. Then Mr. William Workman came out of the office to where I was 
standing, and asked me to what party I belonged. I answered, "To the party 
of myself." "Then," says he, "you are one of my soldiers." I told him I 
didn't see it, and he pointed at my hat, saying I had his ribbon on. 

I didn't want to have anything to do with the revolution, but Workman took 
me against my will, to Cahuenga. That night we passed in the house of 
Cahuenga, lying around, singing songs, eating and drinking.(*)

Next day went as far as the Alamos. There the Micheltorena forces fired 
cannon at us, but at a great distance. They kept up the firing the whole 
day, and we lost one horse whose head was shot off. That was the only 
casualty we had. The firing was returned. The enemy's balls were picked up 
and returned to him. 

(* This probably refers to the house of Tomas Feliz, which was built at 
the north end of Cahuenga Pass. (Giffen.))

Page 41

The next day came down about two miles to the east of Cahuenga, where the 
springs begin to rise in the river Los Angeles.(*) We there were all the 
time under a bank. Our captain was William Workman, the Lt. John Rowland. 
Don't remember who were the other officers. Our company was of about 100 
men. I can't remember the names of all, but among our number were: Danl. 
Sexton (Am.), P. Mace (Am.), James Beckwith (Am. mulatto), John Reed 
(Am.), B. D. Wilson, James Barton, the three brothers Callahan (Am.), John 
the Baker (Irish), Cooper (Eng.). 

When we wanted to shoot we had to lift our arms to shoot over the bank 
which was higher than our heads. 

I know that there were negotiations between our Captain and the Captain of 
the foreign camp on the Micheltorena side, but what they were about I 
never knew, and very soon Micheltorena surrendered at Cahuenga, binding 
himself to leave the country with his officers and troops that he had 
brought from Mexico. Those troops were a pack of thieves. Nothing could 

(* If White's mileage is correct this would have brought them to a point 
on the river almost in a line with the present Walt Disney Studios. 
(Giffen.))

Page 42

be left within reach of them that they didn't steal; shirts, cooking 
utensils and everything, and in many instances attempted to ravish women. 
It was understood that they were men taken out of the presidio on Lake 
Chapala, and of the jails, and many of the officers were no better or even 
worse than their men, for in many instances to screen their men they 
didn't hesitate to tell lies. Several of the soldiers would not hesitate 
to commit murder to possess themselves of articles of even trifling value. 

One night I met in Los Angeles in the street where the Temple Bank now is, 
one of those fellows with a knife pointed at me who demanded my sarape in 
these words: "Daca mi sarape, hace tiempo que lo has usado, y estoy 
careciendo de el." [Give me the sarape; you have had it a long time, and I 
need it.]

I pulled out a pistol and said to him, "Ven a cogerlo" [Come and get it], 
and he ran like a son of a gun, didn't stop to get the blanket. 

Micheltorena, as I said, surrendered with his troops and went to San Pedro 
and embarked, and I went home the same evening. Pio Pico became Governor, 
and my old friend Jose Castro Comandante General. Pico has also been 
always a good friend to me.

Page 43

NEW MEXICO 

I HAD FORGOTTEN to state, in April 1839 I started from Los Angeles for New 
Mexico,(*) as far as Taos. I accompained 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. 

(* In 1838 or 1839 White under his California name, Miguel Blanco, applied 
for land in the San Bernardina 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 Hipolito. No doubt White camped 
there preparing for the trip to New Mexico. (Beattie, Heritage of the 
Valley, 41n, 56.))

Page 44

We stopped a day or two on a lake called the San Jose (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. 

Page 45

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 drink], 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. 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 Tomas Salazar. I assured them that I 

Page 46

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 Fe 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. Benj. 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, 
started from Taos in September for California, 

(* For a list of this party see Hafen, Old Spanish Trail, pages 207-8.)

Page 47

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.(*)

Page 48

(* White failed to mention an important event of 1843 when he was granted 
the Rancho Muscupiabe in the mouth of Cajon pass. White remained on the 
Muscupiabe nine months, his family being with him six weeks of the time. 
He built a strong dwelling of logs and earth. and corrals for his stock. 
The object of this establishment, supported by several landowners, was to 
head off Indian stock thieves coming from the Mojave desert. White, 
however, lost his stock to the Indians and abandoned the place. In 1853 
claim was made to the United States Land Commission, White to receive half 
the land and the attorney the other half. White sold his half in 1859 to 
Henry Hancock. The boundaries were stretched from the original one league 
to five leagues and not until 1889 was the matter finally settled. Because 
this land slipped through White's hands probably added to his bitterness 
in later life. (Beattie, Heritage of the Valley, 90, 92-93.) (See also 
"Rancheria Amuscopiabit" by Gerald A. Smith in the Masterkey , July-
August, 1953.) An account of White's killing Chief Coyote in Cajon Pass is 
found in Guinn, A History of California and an Extended History of its 
Southern Coast Counties, Los Angeles, 1907. Vol. II, p. 2148. 
The fortress like house White built stood on the piedmont between Devil 
and Cable canyons, according to present day terminology. The land is now 
in vineyard owned by the Meyer family of Verdemont. (L. Burr Belden.) 
The Rancho Muscupiabe plat is filed in the San Bernardino Recorder's 
office in connection with the certification of title by the U.S. Land 
Office (U.S. Survey July 11, 1868), page 24. The accompanying pages give 
the court decisions validating the title.)

Page 49

THE BATTLE OF CHINO 

I WAS WORKING in September 1846 for Mr. Hugo Reid building a house at the 
place where Mr. B. D. Wilson now lives.(*) 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. 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 

(* 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.")

(** 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))

(*** 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.)

Page 50

had had a long ride, I consented to stay. 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. 
 
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 

(* Lieut. Benjamin D. Wilson's Company E, California Battalion, consisted 
of Frederick Batchelor, E. Bertran, Edward Callahan (Sgt.), Isaac 
Callahan, Neeley Dobson, Manuel Espinosa, Longe Guerra, James M. Harbin, 
Edward Malloy, Alexander Martineau, Joseph Perdue (Orderly Sgt.), 
Francisco Rolan or Roland, John Roland, Isaac Slover, Thomas Smith, Lewis 
A. (Antoine?) Valois, George Watter, Michael White (Miguel Blanco), 
Benjamin D. Wilson (1st Lt. Comdg. Co.). ("Rosters of California 
Volunteers in the Service of the United States, 1846-1847," by Fred B. 
Rogers, in Publication for 1950, Society of California Pioneers.) 
Presumably most of these men were at Chino.)

Page 51

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 California 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 

Page 52

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.(*)

(* 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. 
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 9, 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.)

Page 53

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. 

Page 54

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. 

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 Servulo Varela, but I know that he and Diego 

Page 55

Sepulveda 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 Sepulveda and Servulo 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. 

One or two days later in the Paredon Blanco three or four of us were 
exchanged. I was exchanged for Andres Pico, who had been till then a 
prisoner in the hands of Capt. Gillespie. 

Isaac Batchelder, Edw. Cottrell, and a half breed Cherokee were also 
exchanged for other Californians in Gillespie's hands. 

(* 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))
 
Page 56

The whole trouble and revolt of the Californians arose from the despotic 
measures of Capt. 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. 


IMPRISONMENT 

AFTER BEING exchanged, I was told by Gillespie I might come home or go to 
San Diego. I replied that I would not go to San Diego.(*) I came 

(* According to Gillespie, White deserted, apparently during Gillespie's 
withdrawal from Los Angeles to San Pedro. The following is "List of 
Prisoners received in exchange" by Gillespie, September 30, 1846. Most, if 
not all of these men were captured at Chino Ranch: (1) Lemuel Carpenter; 
(2) Evan. Callahan; (3) Isaac Slover; (4) Thomas Smith; (5) Thomas 
Canwell; (6) John Bapista [probably Juan Bautista Mutrel]; (7) Michael 
White, deserted on the march; (8) N. Lorring; (9) Joseph Perdue (wounded); 
(10) Charles Johnson; (11) Francisco Roland; (12) J. Dobson. ( Gillespie 
Papers, Ms. No. 93, University of California Library, Los Angeles.))
 
Page 57

home and the Mexican authorities reduced me to prison again. I acknowledge 
that I was in a very bad position for I was a Mexican citizen caught with 
arms in my hands fighting against Mexico, and the authorities might have 
shot me had they chosen to do so, and I would have deserved it, at least 
for my folly in having listened to Williams.

Myself and other prisoners were held in durance at Los Angeles till a few 
days before the battle of San Gabriel. We were not particularly well 
treated during our imprisonment. All that was allowed in was a little 
food, nothing else, not even a blanket to lie on. My own blanket had been 
taken by the Californians at the Chino.

Whilst I was in the prison (which was where the Bella Union now is joining 
the Arcadia block) we got our food from Luis Arenas, who was afterwards 
paid for it. None of us (except Batchelder) were allowed to go out. 
Batchelder Picayune was a sort of clown, who could perform all sorts of 
antics and make queer remarks, which caused the Californian guard to 
laugh. In this way he had their good will, and 

Page 58

he was allowed to go out, bring in liquor, etc., of course, always 
accompanied by a soldier. For this he used to tell me that he had never 
been so much waited on, and taken care of since he was a child. 

During our imprisonment we were at one time in peril of being sent to 
Mexico. The military authorities had already prepared the handcuffs to put 
on our wrists. They wanted Andres Pico to take us in, but he refused, 
saying that if we were sent to Mexico, Commodore Stockton and other 
American authorities would send them to Cape Horn. Mr. Workman broke up 
the scheme in conjuction with Jose Antonio Carrillo, Ignacio Palomares and 
Ricardo Vejar. At the time we were confined in the Chino ranch having the 
whole of it for our jail. 

One morning I was walking with William Cottrell when I saw some Mexicans 
ride up to the Chino house. I told Cottrell, "We are prisoners again." 
Said he, "You are a witch." I replied, "Witch or no witch, you will see 
that we are prisoners." 

As soon as we sat down to get our breakfasts we saw two guards, one on 
each side of the door. That night they put us all on horseback, and 
brought us away up here, and put us in a 

Page 59

corn crib. We had plenty of corn there. In the evening of the next day, 
Workman, Palomares and Ricardo Vejar came, freed us from there, killed a 
bullock and gave us something to eat. They took Rowland to his ranch. I 
and Cottrell went back on foot to the Chino. The same evening Williams, 
the owner of the ranch said, "You have no blanket." I said that I had not. 
He then told me that he had plenty, and if I would promise to pay him, he 
would let me have one. I promised to do so, and asked him to fetch another 
for my partner. I was then well informed about his treachery. 

Page 60 [blank]

Page 61

RETURN HOME 

NEXT MORNING Cottrell and myself went on top of the hills, and I told him 
he might go back if he wanted to, for I was going to Los Angeles, and 
would contrive to get in. Los Angeles had been taken the day before by 
Commodore Stockton's forces and my fears were that the Mexicans might 
catch me and carry me off to Sonora or kill me on the road. 

We started together, and that night just before the day broke were at the 
Ranchito then belonging to an uncle of my wife's (Juan Perez), now to Pio 
Pico.(*)

After daylight I went to the shanty. The old man came out and said, "In 
the name of God, where have you come from?" I told him from Chino and was 
bound to Los Angeles. He said 

(* Between 1850 and 1852 Pio Pico built an adobe home, "El Ranchito." now 
the Pio Pico State Monument, near Whittier.)

Page 62

if I was seen by the Mexicans they would kill me. My intention was to hide 
in the mustard weed all day and get in at night. 

We got plenty to eat, and were stowed under the bed the wholeday. 

In the evening after it was dark we left for Los Angeles. My wife's uncle 
sent a guide with us till we got over the river. We went on and had fun 
with him. Every time I heard a band of horses I would tell Cottrell they 
were horsemen after us and to lay down flat on his belly, and I would do 
so just for deviltry. He was in a constant dread of being taken. In fact, 
several Mexicans had been to the Uncle's house inquiring if he had seen 
any Yankees, and he would answer, "No, go home to your affairs; Stockton 
passed here yesterday and did not hurt me or mine--did not even take a 
borrega [a small yearling lamb]. 

We got into Los Angeles sometime before daylight, went to Lemuel 
Carpenter's house and got something to eat. About 10 or 11 A.M. went to 
Headquarters of Commodore Stockton and Gen. Kearny. He asked me if I had 
been set at liberty, and I said, "No, I have taken French liberty; if the 
cage door is left open, the bird will fly away." He said he did not blame 
me 

Page 63

and advised me to go to my quarters. I told him I was going home. He asked 
me if I was not afraid of being killed on the road, and I replied that 
home I would go anyhow. 

As I was near the Rosa de Castilla I saw about a dozen Mexicans, all armed 
and mounted. I was on foot. I heard them cry out, "There goes a Yankee, 
let's go and kill him." They came rushing toward me, when one of them 
burst out, "That's my cousin, you must not touch him." That was the huero 
[blonde] Higuera. He was in some way a relative of my mother in law. 

He asked me if Stockton would not kill them if they went into town. "Kill 
the devil," I said, "you are not a deer. You may go in and deliver your 
arms or go and put them away, and go to your work, and no one will molest 
you." He asked me two or three times if I was sure of that, and I answered 
him in the affirmative. He said he would go home to his work and be done 
with war. I told him his country was taken and he had nothing to do but to 
go home and keep quiet, and no one would interfere with him. They left me 
and I went home without any mishap. 

Page 64

clothing in the house. Not a thing was left, not even corn or anything 
else to eat. A day or two later I came over to Workman's. I did not want 
to say that I had nothing to eat, but he divined it, and asked if I had 
brought a sack. I said yes and he gave me a sack of flour, and told me to 
send my ox cart the next day and he would load it for me. I did so, and 
got a good supply of grain and other things. 

Page 65

EULALIA PEREZ 

AS MY mother in law, Eulalia Perez, first widow of Miguel Antonio Guillen, 
and next of Juan Marine, may be said to be a historical character,(*) 
owing to her extraordinary age, and the services herself, husbands, son 
and others of her family, rendered towards the foundation and development 
of this California--and as the records of Loreto, Lower California, where 
she was born and first married, and by which the dates of her birth and 
marriage might be established were destroyed by privateers from Chili 
somewhere about 1817, I desire to state all I have heard from herself and 
others about her age &c.

(* Some six days before interviewing Michael White, Thomas Savage took 
down some of the recollections of White's aged mother-in-law, the famous 
Eulalia Perez. These recollections were translated by Nellie Van de Grift 
Sanchez as "Keeper of the Keys" and published in Touring Topics, January 
1929.)

Page 66

She told me a great many times when she was a great deal younger and 
entirely in her right mind that when the San Vicente mission in the 
frontier of Lower California was founded, her husband Miguel Antonio 
Guillen, then a Sergt. came in command of the military force, left her in 
Loreto with three children born and one in the womb. Those children were 
Petra, the eldest, Isidoro, and Domingo. The one in the womb was not 
christened because the mother accidentally smothered it soon after its 
birth. Domingo was a boy of about 9 to 11 years old when the whole family 
came to this California and he accompanied them but was taken sick on the 
way, and died and was buried in the mission of San Fernando of Lower 
California. 

Sergt. Guillen, after founding San Vicente [1780], remained there 4 years, 
and then went back to Loreto, after that he came as sergt. in the 
expedition that came with the priests in 1769 to found San Diego. Eulalia 
and the family came with him. (There may be some doubt about this last 
assertion. It is possible that he came with the expedition, went back, and 
at a later [date], brought his family.) 

The above information was also given me by Eulalia's nephew, Macedonio 
Gonzalez, a son 

Page 67

of her sister Teresa (Eulalia Perez had several sisters and 2 brothers--
Teresa, Petra, Juana and Josefa, Bernardo and Leon). Macedonio Gonzalez 
was alferez of the frontier company. He first told me the facts about 
1834, he was then upwards of 85 years of age, but very stout and hearty, 
and a great Indian fighter. This Macedonio entered the military service 
when he was a boy, taken and made a recruit of when he was about 12 or 14 
years old, and assured me that he remembered the departure of the 
expedition to found San Diego. He also told me that a cousin of his (whose 
1st name I have forgotten) of the surname of Cota, a son of another sister 
of Eulalia's embarked on the vessel called the San Jose, one of the three 
which left Loreto to found San Diego, and was never heard of again. The 
San Jose must have foundered at sea with all her crew and passengers. I 
presume that she was blown off to Sandwich Islands and wrecked. 

Eulalia's father was named Diego Perez, and her mother Lucia Valenzuela 
(Eulalia said her mother's name was Antonia Rosalia Cota), he was the 
commander or patron of a small Govt. vessel in Loreto, engaged in carrying 
despatches etc. from there to ports on the Mexican coast as far as 
Guaimas. 

Page 68

I have been myself in the orchard that was planted by Capitan Perez, as he 
was called, and have drawn water from its well several years before I knew 
that such a woman as Eulalia Perez lived in the world; have also eaten 
figs from its trees. That was in 1820 or 1821. I remember it was one year 
after I took the schooner Lancaster at San Blas. 

When I married her daughter Maria del Rosario Guillen on 22 November 1831, 
Eulalia was 96 years or upwards as well as I could judge.(*) She was for 
all that very strong, and walked as straight as a dart, was sprightly and 
intelligent, and always at work. She was the llavera of the San Gabriel 
Mission, under Father Jose Sanchez, who was as good a man as ever God put 
the breath of life in. My wife at the time of my marriage was 17 years 
old, born 1st October 1814 at San Gabriel Mission. 

Macedonio Gonzalez was a very truthful man, as far as I was able to judge 
him. He served (according to his own statement to me) 18 years under the 
Spanish flag. I know when I was in the Gulf of California in 1817, the 

(* White's chronology would have Eulalia Perez giving birth to Maria del 
Rosario at the age of 79. Bancroft believed that Eulalia Perez was closer 
to 108 than 140 at her death in 1878.)

Page 69

Mexican flag waved over every place I was at, including Loreto. In 1820 
the Mexicans removed from Loreto to La Paz all the archives and other 
valuables and the place was discontinued as a military post or port of 
entry. Gonzalez died in 1862 or 1863 at the Estudillo's ranch, San Jacinto 
(San Diego County).(*) Therefore he must have been at the time of his 
death 105 or 107 years old.(**)

He told me a dozen times that when he and a cousin of his named Aniceto 
Morillo came to San Vicente to serve in the escolta, Francisco Maria Ruiz, 
who was in after years Comandante of San Diego, was commanding on the 
frontier. There were a ram and a goat there which began to fight. Ruiz saw 
them, and hallooed to Macedonio to come, saying: "Mata a esos hijos de 
puta. Aqui no hay mas hombre que yo" ["Kill these----. There are to be no 
other men here than myself"]. Ruiz was a native of old Spain, lived till 
some time later, 1837 and 1842; was a perfect despot; and the 
soldierscalled him a loco [a lunatic]. 

(* Now Riverside County.)

(** Bancroft gives his age as "over 70.")

Page 70

Eulalia Perez was the midwife that attended Pio Pico's mother when he was 
born, and afterwards weaned him. 

Isidoro Guillen, my brother in law, died in La Purisima in 1864 of about 
107 years of age. Governor Pico told me a dozen times that when he was a 
little bit of a boy, Isidoro Guillen was a full grown man, but his father 
made him attend school at San Diego that he might learn to read; that 
Isidoro smoked and so did the master. The master tried to take the segar 
away from Isidoro and the latter whipped him. 

I remember a conversation I had with Governor Pico some years since, about 
Isidoro's age at the time of his death. He said that he must have been 
long ways past 90. I remarked that I thought he was a man of 86 or 87, 
when Pico answered "y mas de 96 o 97" [and more than 96 or 97]. 

I have said that Isidoro Guillen was born in Loreto and came to San Diego 
when about 12 years old. He told me that he remembered the springs on the 
road, where good or bad water was obtained, and many other incidents of 
the journey, that he rode his own horse and drove two cows and a bull, 2 
mares and a stud that the Govt. had given his father. He stood 6 ft. 2 

Page 71

in his stockings, was well made, and a noble looking, as well as a brave 
and excellent man, very quiet in his demeanor. His sister Petra Guillen 
was his mother's first child and 1 year and 9 months older than he. She 
died in Los Angeles to the best of my recollection in 1844. She was the 
wife of Santiago Rubio, who had been a soldier of the San Diego company, 
but I knew him when he was mayordomo of one of the ranches of the San 
Gabriel mission, called La Bolsa. 

Now I remember that Eulalia Perez told me many years ago that she was 
married in the year that the Jesuits were sent away from Lower California, 
which I think was in 1750; that would make her about 34 years old at the 
time of the foundation of San Diego, and 142 years at the present time. 
Both Macedonio Gonzalez and Isidoro Guillen repeatedly told me that 
Eulalia Perez came to San Diego at the time of its foundation and she has 
many times said that there were at the time no houses at all, but mere 
enramadas or what we would call booths. 

Anyone that sees her will immediately perceive that she is a very ancient 
woman, and yet her mind at times is quite bright, and she can yet walk 
leaning on some one's arms and 

Page 72

resting occasionally on the way from my house to that of my son-in-law, 
Mr. Eslope, which is at least 500 yards distant. She gets up and walks 
about the house without assistance, and it is astonishing how she can 
remember events that occurred in her early years, and the songs and verses 
that were used at dances &c. 

I remember that 2 years ago I went a fishing over at Santa Catalina(*) 
opposite San Pedro and brought plenty of fish. My mother-in-law looked at 
the fish and asked me why I had now brought bagre (mullet), pegigallo (a 
big fish having a crest on the head like a rooster. When swimming it 
stands up, just like the comb of a rooster--an awful gormandizer of small 
fish). She then told me that her father used to catch those fish with a 
net, selected the best for the family, the soldiers of Loreto would take 
as many as they wanted and the rest were hove again into the sea. 

Last year I was assured that another woman still older than Eulalia was 
still living about 12 miles inland of San Jose [Lower California]. When I 
was there in 1817 her son was as old as 

(* Michael White is said to have had a flock of 30 sheep at White's 
Landing, Catalina Island, in 1865. (Los Angeles Sunday Illustrated 
Magazine, June 30, 1901, page 19.))

Page 73

I am now, and he had children grown up and married, with children of their 
own. What makes me remember her well is that she took a pitahaya thorn out 
of my left eye with her tongue. I felt as if she had taken my eye out. I 
had had the thorn in the eye about a couple of days and was suffering 
terribly. Her son Ignacio Marquez sent me to her, assuring me that she 
would cure me, and she did. She was setting on a hide, made me sit by her, 
rinsed her mouth with fresh water, put my head on her lap, and her tongue 
right into my eye, and took out the thorn and spit it out. Strange as it 
may appear I have forgotten her name, but I certainly remember gratefully 
the great service she rendered me. 

I believe I have had thirteen [children] of whom 9 are living.(*)

(* This apparently in answer to a question as to the number of his 
children. Eight children were living in 1907: Michael and James; Jennie 
(Mrs. Andre Courtney), Sarah (Mrs. Ygnacio Alvarado), Frances (Mrs. Joseph 
Heslop of Pasadena), Alvira (Mrs. Louis Marshall), Jane (Mrs. Luis 
Capevielle), Esther (Mrs. Castillion). (Guinn, J. M., A History of 
California and an Extended History of its Southern Coast Counties, Los 
Angeles, 1907, v. II, p. 2149.) Another son, Joseph, was the one murdered 
at El Monte prior to White's dictation. On September 6, 1954, I 
interviewed Mrs. Florinda Plaisance at her home at 137 North Parkwood 
Ave., Pasadena. She is a granddaughter of Michael White, a daughter of 
Frances White Heslop. Being then 89 years old she was, as a child and 
young lady, a frequent visitor to her grandfather, Michael White, both 
when he was in San Marino and in Los Angeles. She lives with her sister, 
Julia Heslop de la Guerra. There are no living children of Michael White, 
but a number of grandchildren and great grandchildren. Mrs. Plaisance is 
in possession of a fine portrait of her grandmother, Mrs. Michael White. 
Guinn gives the date of the death of Mrs. White as 1892. Records of Mrs. 
de la Guerra give the date as January 26, 1895.)

Page 74

Petra Guillen, my wife's eldest sister had a daughter (yet living) named 
Antonia Rubio, who is a good deal older than my wife, no less than 4 or 5 
years. 

Page 75

GOLD RUSH 

WHEN THE discovery of the gold placers I started for Mokelumne, was taken 
sick there and did nothing. Mounted my horse and with only about 200$ 
worth of gold, that I got for some horses which I had sold, came away. 
Suffered terribly on the way, and finally reached the house of my brother 
in law, Isidoro Guillen, in Santa Clara. On my way I was the recipient of 
much kindness from Mrs. Robert Livermore,(*) the wife of him after whom 
the town of Livermore was named. She was a native of California of the 
Sanchez family of San Jose. I believe she was a daughter of the old 
Alferez 

(* This was Josefa Higuera, wife of Robert Livermore who owned the Pozitos 
Rancho, now Livermore Valley--and the Canada de Los Vaqueros on the road 
from San Jose to Sacramento. It was undoubtedly at the latter place that 
White received Mrs. Livermore's care. The term Santa Clara at that time 
had a wider meaning than the immediate Mission community of that name. 
(Giffen.))

Page 76

[Ensign, or Second Lieutenant] Jose Sanchez. She would receive no pay, but 
I left her, quite against her will, one little chunk of gold weighing 5 
1/2 ounces that I had picked up on the Stanislaus. 
 
After recuperating my health at Santa Clara, went back to Stanislaus to 
Murphy's diggings. I worked there for myself some three weeks and dug out 
nearly 2000$. The diggings were very rich. Some days I would get out 8 and 
9 ounces. One day I found a chunk weighing 7 1/2 ounces. That day got over 
one pound of gold. 

There was a cooper that had been paid off from the U.S. sloop of war St. 
Mary's. His name was Edward. He had a tent and invited me to stay with 
him, each one cooking his own food, and working for himself. I generally 
got up very early, cooked my own and his breakfast, went to my work, and 
sometime after he would come to work alongside of me. He was a very good 
man. 

One morning I went to my work and saw several Spaniards on the bank 
watching if I was picking up any gold. I did not give out to them that I 
understood Spanish, and did not want to speak to Ned, for the reason that 
I had my 

Page 77

mouth full of gold. I used to put all the gold I picked up in a day into a 
small soda can, but not wishing to make any rattling, whenever I picked up 
a chispa [small particle] I would put it in my mouth. Most of the gold was 
of the size and form of musk melon seed. It was very dangerous to let any 
one see what was picked up. It was that morning I got the 7 1/2 ounce 
piece. Ned spoke and said, "Chummy, how are you getting along?" I returned 
no answer, then he picked up and threw at me what he thought was dirt. It 
struck me on the back. The dirt fell off and I found it contained a piece 
of gold of 2 1/2 ounces. The Spaniards went away and I showed Ned what I 
had, and he said, "Damn you, you always have good luck. I can get no luck 
at all." I answered him, "How can you have any luck if you heave it away?" 
He said that he had not hove away anything, and then I showed him the 
piece of gold he had thrown at me. He looked at it, and pronounced it only 
a piece of rock. I then put it in my pocket. He could not work for some 
time and kept growling, and I laughing at him. Finally, he wanted me to 
let him see it again. We had more chaffing. At last I gave it to him with 
the advice never to heave gold again at my head, for if he 

Page 78

did I would keep it. He was highly pleased and went to work like a negro. 
Next he begged me to let him have the 7 1/2 ounce piece and I let him have 
it for a like amount in fine gold. I would have done anything for that man 
and I think he would have done the same for me. A good natured fellow from 
Massachusetts, about 6 feet in height, raw boned. There was no vulgar way 
about him, and it was evident that he had been well brought up by his 
parents, or whoever had the care of him in early life. 

A few days after I left him there with an Irishman that I had hired to 
wash the dirt, for I had never thought of washing any dirt myself. All the 
gold I got was picked in crevices of the bed rock. 

I came down to San Francisco one or two days before Christmas, 1848. Came 
away in Feb. 1849. It was snowing and raining and blowing nearly the whole 
time I was there. I had taken passage on a Colombian Brig to San Pedro, 
and every morning that we lied in San Francisco, we had to clear the decks 
of snow in the morning. Oakland was as white as a sheet. 

Stayed at home till the middle of April, and then started to go back to 
the same diggings. When I got to Stockton met my Irishman and 

Page 79

asked him about Ned, and he told me that Ned got out 25 pounds of gold out 
of the dirt I had hove out, and as I couldn't wash out any dirt for want 
of water, when the rains came on, he washed, got the gold and left for 
home. I asked the Irishman if Ned had paid him, and he said yes. 

I went on the Mokelumne hill again. There I got a little over 5000$ in 
gold in about three weeks, and took the gold to Stockton, where I 
deposited it with William Stockton. He was a New York rough who had 
belonged to Col. Stevenson's Regiment.(*) Went back to work on the 
Calaveras, got about 3000$ more, and the weather being insufferably hot, I 
came down again and as far as San Francisco. Went to Stockton and couldn't 
get my money. Stockton had spent it. He had number of lots there and 
advised me to go and sue him and get a writ of attachment of the lots. I 
applied for the writ and the Judge wouldn't give it to me. The Judge 
wanted to bring me in as a common of Stockton's. I refused to submit to it 
as I was not such, but a mere depositor, which Stockton acknowledged, 
saying he had spent the money, 

(* William B. Stockton, a member of Co. F, New York Volunteers, came to 
California in 1847.) 

Page 80

thinking he could have the amount before I should call for it. I employed 
Lawyer Fair (the husband of the woman that a few years ago killed 
Crittenden in San Francisco) to recover the money for me. The agreement 
was that in case he recovered the whole, his fee was to be 800$. I was 
left without anything. In the morning I was assured I should get my money 
in the evening, and in the evening that I would get it in the morning, and 
I never got it because Mr. Fair recovered the money and made away with it. 
I got a letter from him that he had collected the money and was sorry that 
he had spent it and possessed nothing to replace it with. 


WAGON ROUTE 

A MAN who owed me 600$ brought them from the mines to me at Stockton. With 
that money I bought a wagon and 2 mules, with harness for 4 mules. After 
giving the mules some rest at French camp came down to Santa Clara and got 
from my brother in law, Isidoro Guillen, some 3000$ that I had left with 
him and went to San Jose where there was an auction of dry goods, and 
bought enough goods for 1000$ as loaded my wagon chock full--then I 
hitched on my 

Page 81

two mules, and two more that I had procured since, put a boy on one of the 
leaders and I began to drive. This was an entirely new thing to me for I 
had never driven even one mule. We were on the road 20 days to San 
Gabriel. That was the first wagon that ever was seen in San Gabriel, and 
every one thought it was an excellent thing. It had a painted tent on it. 
The wagon was an old affair that had come across the prairies from the 
other side of the Rocky Mountains. I managed to capsize it three or four 
times on the road. When we got to Soledad two English speaking men who 
said they were Americans, came to me and asked where I was going. I 
answered that I was coming down, and they said they were also coming down 
to Santa Barbara. I replied that they could travel much faster than I. 
They were on good horses and I didn't know how they got them. They were 
rough, suspicious looking men, and I was afraid of them. The roads were at 
the time full of robbers and murderers. The Reed family had been murdered 
but a short time before by some tramps in the Mission of San Miguel. 

I stopped to get dinner at La Soledad and then went on to the rancho 
Bernadal. There was an adobe house there. The two fellows came out 

Page 82

to me again. I had a case of brandy in the wagon, and said to myself that 
I must manage to find out what those fellows were. I got a case bottleful 
and gave them to drink. In two minutes they were fast asleep and snoring, 
but I believed they were only feigning sleep, and kept a sharp watch. I 
did not sleep a wink that night. In the morning cooked breakfast, invited 
the fellows to partake of it and gave them another dram and told them I 
was going only as far as the next ranch where I intended stopping 3 or 4 
days to rest my mules. Sometimes a man is more scared than hurt and such 
was my case. I stopped at that ranch 24 hours, thinking that they would be 
far off by the time I started, but I overtook them about a mile before 
reaching San Miguel. I was not then afraid of them, as the road was full 
of emigrants from the East, and I would meet some every hour or so. 

I was pestered on the road by many to tell where the best places for 
digging were, and I invariably answered, "Where you find the gold, Sir." 
It was the best answer I could give them, adding that I might find a place 
that was very rich, and another come and work alongside of me and find no 
gold, and then he would curse me if I had induced him to come there. 

Page 83

Finally got down as far down as Santa Rosa ranch, close by Santa Inez 
mission. The old Sergeant that owned the place got angry with me because I 
did not call him Uncle. He was a son of Eulalia's sister. He welcomed me 
and my servant boys, but would not allow the two fellows that had attached 
themselves to me to go into the house. "Tienen mala cara tus amigos, 
Sobrino, tienen mala cara " [your friends have evil countenances, Nephew], 
said the old Sergeant. I assured him they were no friends of mine, but had 
not been able to get rid of them. Started from there two days after, and 
went on top of the mountains and camped in the night. The two fellows 
still stuck to me, for they had nothing to live on but what I gave or 
procured for them. 

Next day got to the mouth of the Gaviota and camped there. Next day at 
about 3 P.M. got to the Arroyo Hondo ranch of the Ortegas, from there to 
the canon of the Ortega ranch where the trail goes over the mountain. 
There one of the two men lost his horse. I told them I would go very 
slowly that they might overtake me, but as soon as I lost sight of them, I 
put whip to the mules, and the road being pretty 

Page 84

level and hard, I placed a large distance between us. I never saw them 
afterwards. I got into Santa Barbara that evening. Three or four days 
after, traveling slowly, I reached home. 

Page 85

BANDITS 

I STAYED HOME, dealt in cattle and other things, when in 1851 (or 1852) I 
was going down from my house to the mission, some 2 1/2 miles, I saw three 
young men sitting under an oak tree playing cards. All were acquaintances 
of mine. I scolded them and called them lazy rascals, and why they didn't 
go to work. Next day I heard that Sheriff Barton(*) had been shot near San 
Juan Capistrano by desperadoes, Flores and his party. I believe they were 
called the Manilas. I had a good deal of regard for Barton and regretted 
his death, but could do nothing but regret. 

A few days afterwards I was going to my mill which I had just finished. 
There were some oak trees betwixt my house and the mill, and I 

(* Actually Sheriff Barton was killed in 1857. See Newmark, Sixty Years in 
Southern California, 1930, pp. 206 ff.)

Page 86

thought I would chop them down and make firewood of them. As I was at work 
cutting down a tree Pancho Daniel (the Lieutenant of Murrieta) rode past 
me with his gun pointed towards me. I said, "Halloo, Mace, what is up?" I 
mistook Daniel for the Doctor. No answer was returned me. A few moments 
later my son Joseph, who was murdered some years after in El Monte, came 
to me, and said, "Father, the man that just passed here is a robber. Go 
and get your gun. I could have killed him easily, but as you have told me 
never to shoot at anybody, I did not do it." I went for my gun and went to 
the swamp where the people that were hunting Daniel were. The party after 
him were Stockton, Osborne, the three King boys, Darcy and several others. 
I told them if they would promise me not to kill the man on my premises, I 
would catch him. My idea was to take him alive, so as to ascertain from 
him who were his associates. They promised me. I set fire to the swamp, 
and I knew there was a hole in the swamp where he could hide himself. I 
went into the swamp, Stockton following me, swinging his gun one side and 
the other right at my back. He was more frightened than a little. I was 
afraid he would shoot. I told him to go out. 

Page 87

Just at this I heard a pistol shot, and one of the King boys said `Here he 
is" and banged again, "Here he is," and let go again. I ran towards King 
and told him to let the man [live?], for he was violating the agreement. 
The man was already flat on his back in the last gasp. All came rushing 
and wanted to whip the boy, but I told them that was useless, as the man 
was dead. Then I saw them take from the body a handful of gold coin (maybe 
200$) and James Barton's masonic ring, which I knew at once. The man had 
it on his finger, from which I drew the conclusion that he was one of 
Barton's murderers. 

They took the body on a mule to the mission, and on arriving there Dr. 
Osborne cut off his head. Then he wanted the people of El Monte to stick 
the head upon a pole, but they got mad with him to bury the head with the 
body.(*)

(* This part of White's narrative does not coincide with other stories of 
the same happening. In Major Horace Bell's account in On the Old West 
Coast, he relates the incident and says that the man killed was Mexican 
Joe, a young fellow employed by Uncle Billie Rubottom of El Monte. 
Rubottom had sent the boy on an errand to Benito Wilson's, which was not 
far from White's place. On the way he was ambushed by a group of men who 
were hunting Barton's murderers. The body was brought to San Gabriel and 
decapitated by Doctor Osborne, who then took the head to Los Angeles. A 
group of Rubottom's friends retrieved the head and it was interred with 
the body. According to Judge Hayes' Notes Pancho Daniel was lynched Nov. 
30, 1858. (Giffen.))

Page 88

A few days after that they were still hunting for Barton's murderers, and 
Crabb's party.(*) (which were all afterwards killed at Caborga in Sonora, 
except one boy who was released on account of his tender age), came to the 
mission drunk as fools and arrested all the Spanish young men, among them 
one that I had brought up in my house named Felipe Lopez. I went down 
after him and as I got there I found Flint and Joe Slaughter and several 
others in the old guard house. They were keeping away from that party. 
They called and told me not to go among that party for they would surely 
murder me. I had two good pistols, well loaded, on my person. I was 
determined to have the boy if it cost me my life. On arriving at their 
camp, saw the boy sitting down and crying. Osborne came out and asked me 
what I wanted. I answered that I wanted that boy. A man that was standing 
sentry said, "What are you talking about?" "Just what you hear," I 
replied. "I want that boy and I will have him." When he saw me so 

(* For an account of this episode see Crabb's Filibustering Expedition 
into Sonora, 1857, by Robert H. Forbes, 1952.)

Page 89

determined, he concluded to let me have the boy, and I took him away. In 
the mean time, whilst I was demanding the boy, his older brother Pedro 
Lopez and two others, Diego Navarro and Juan Valenzuela, were murdered, 
the very three young men that I scolded some days before when I saw them 
playing cards under the oak tree. 

I went over to the guard house where the Slaughters were, and some time in 
the afternoon there came James Thompson with 7 or 8 men. Came up to me and 
said, "Well, old gentleman, so that you have got off 4, eh?" I said, "No, 
only one." Asked them why the three young men had been killed. He answered 
that he didn't know. Neither did I, except that I was convinced that they 
were killed because they were Spanish, and their murderers willed it. It 
was charged against them after they were dead that they had held 
conversation with Murrieta and Daniel. For the same reason they might have 
murdered me, for once Murrieta came into my house with all his party, and 
asked for supper, which I provided them. We did not know the man, and at 
supper time my wife remarked that Joaquin Murrieta esta muy bravo con los 
hueros [Joaquin Murrieta is very ill-tempered 

Page 90

with blondes]. He said, "No, I am perfectly well acquainted with him; he 
is quite a gentleman, and they all know your husband. No one will hurt 
him." Perhaps if I had refused the supper, the man might have murdered me, 
for he turned out to be Murrieta himself, and the party were his fellow 
brigands. 

Murrieta's party often divided into two, he remaining at the head of one 
and the other going under Daniel. 

Same year two Americans leased land from me. One was called Smith, the 
other gave his name as Peter Williams. The lease was on half shares. I was 
to supply land, horses, implements, &c. The were to do the work, raise the 
crop, and give me one half. Whilst they were there I had a band of about 
100 mares and horses, and they were all lost. They raised the crop, gave 
me my share, sold their own, and went off to El Monte. I had no suspicions 
about them. When they got down to El Monte they began to steal horses 
there, and Joe Cattuck caught Smith in the act, brought him with a rope 
around his neck to the mission, threw the end of the rope over the limb of 
a tree. I went down there, and saw several men (20 or 30) standing by. A 
lawyer that was of the number 

Page 91

asked me if I thought it was right to hang a man for stealing a horse. I 
answered "no" that we could always get a horse, but not return to a man 
his life after he had been deprived of it. He said if I would speak in 
behalf of the prisoner, perhaps the men would not hang him. I pleaded for 
the poor devil, and they concluded to send him to Los Angeles. They gave 
him 39 lashes in Los Angeles and told him if at the expiration of 24 hours 
he was in the county they would hang him. 

On the road he confessed to the Constable, Frank Baker, that he was the 
person who had stolen all my horses, but not to say anything to me until 
after he was gone. And yet, I was the only one that pleaded for, and saved 
his life. 

I was left destitute of horses, bought a pony from some Cherokees, swapped 
off the two mules I bought in Stockton for two American horses, went into 
town one day with my wagon and the horses. An American by the name of Gaff 
came to me, and wanted to buy one of the horses. Don Pio Pico had offered 
me 1000$ for him, and I had refused the offer. 

The man kept following me round the town, wanting me to sell him the 
horse. At last he bothered me so that I told him if he did not let 

Page 92

me alone I would give him a thrashing. I came home with my team, turned 
them off to go among the timber. I feared to tie them, as the man Gaff 
might come and steal them. That was the last I ever saw of the horses. He 
stole them, and I was left afoot again. I afterwards had evidence that he 
was the thief. 


MISSION FATHERS 

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 

Page 93

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. 

Pomona, Dec. 16, 1877. 
MICHAEL C. WHITE.(*)


(* White sold his vineyard and orchard to L. H. Titus, and moved to Los 
Angeles, where he lived with his family till his death, which occurred 
February 26, 1885. (Barrows.) This date, however, cannot be confirmed by 
Los Angeles death records or newspaper notices.)



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