During this week in history, the short-lived California Republic got its start four years ahead of the creation of California as the 31st state in the union.
June 14, 1846
John Charles Fremont was an extraordinary man of virtue and courage but one who was unfortunately plagued by inopportune acts of fate and undermined by a long list of incompetent superiors.
This, at least, was his own take on his life, which he helpfully compiled in personal memoirs with the help of his wife (a far better writer).
Perhaps more so than most people who look back on their life, the life Fremont envisioned as his own falls far short of reality. History can be brutal in its harsh appraisal of so-called great people.
The Fremont of history is a man of frustrating contradictions, if nothing else.
He was a devoted husband to his wife Jessie, but also an inveterate womanizer.
He was a renowned explorer of the American West, attaining the nickname of “Pathfinder,” but failed miserably on several occasions to adequately plan for the very same explorations, resulting in the death of many of his companions and nearly himself.
He was court-martialed out of his position as military governor of California in 1848 for gross insubordination but was appointed a major general in 1861 by Abraham Lincoln.
He was, perhaps more so than most men of his era, perfectly suited to the America of the mid-19th century, an embodiment of Manifest Destiny.
His virtues of courage in the face of danger allowed him time and again to blaze trails westward to California.
Even his vices, his blind ambition and engrossed sense of self, were well-suited to frontier America, a land isolated from the rest of the world.
If no one was present to report on his achievements in the wild places of the continent, then so much the better. Fremont would be his own apologist, he own PR rep, and he did a fantastic job of it.
On this day in 1846, Fremont achieved a victory that even someone with less talent at self-promotion could have parlayed into unimaginable public acclaim: John C. Fremont singlehandedly freed the territory of California from the increasingly tiresome control of the Mexican government.
I’m talking about the Bear Flag Revolt and the creation of the temporary Republic of California.
Of course, Fremont didn’t achieve this startling victory singlehandedly. In actual fact, he was assisted by a group of angry illegal immigrants. OK, maybe not the sort of romantic heroes to start the great state of California, but like Fremont, the men and women who assisted the “Pathfinder” were perfectly suited to their job.
The conflict really began several years earlier as more and more American settlers began moving into the Mexican-controlled California, a land sparsely populated with non-natives.
Through political maneuvering and plenty of money, some of the recently-arrived Americans were able to attain legal claims to land.
The vast majority of these early pioneers, however, simply settled onto what land they could find – and there was a lot of it.
For the most part, Americans set up homes in the Sonoma-Napa region and the central valley near John Sutter’s growing settlement of New Helvetia.
By 1846 there were an estimated 500 Americans in California, most of whom were squatting illegally on land owned by the Mexican government.
Naturally, this didn’t sit well with the commandante general of the territory, Jose Castro, and in April of 1846 he issued a proclamation in an attempt to stem the tide of foreigners coming into the territory.
In part the edict read that the purchase or acquisition of land by foreigners who had not been naturalized first as Mexicans would “be null and void, and they will be subject … to be expelled whenever the country might find it convenient.”
Rumor soon spread that the government would find it convenient quite soon and had hired natives to burn the crops and chase out the squatters in preparation for a general cleanse.
Perturbed by these reports, the leaders of the American settlers sought out the counsel of John C. Fremont, who was once again in California as part of his official duty for the U.S. Army Corps of Topographical Engineers.
During the previous winter, Fremont had returned to California with a force of men, causing quite a bit of concern on the part of the Mexican government, which promptly ordered that the foreign force leave the territory.
Fremont‘s answer was to fortify his position and raise the American flag. After three days of fruitless military pomp, he left his position and took his command northward on a route to leave the territory for Oregon.
On his way out, he was intercepted by an officer in the Marine Corps who was carrying secret papers for Fremont from his father-in-law, Missouri Senator Thomas Hart Benton.
Here’s where things get a bit hazy.
Fremont would later swear that the letters were official notices urging him to act in the interest of the United States in order to secure a hold in California, but to do so discreetly.
Fremont was many things – just ask him – but discreet he was not. Letters in hand, he turned his company around and headed south once more.
It was on this trip south that the settlers intercepted him with news of the impending eviction of American pioneers. Officially Fremont listened to them but stopped sort of promising overt intervention. He most likely did, however, encourage them to resist.
And on the morning of June 10, a group of 10 settlers set out to do just that, capturing a herd of horses intended for the Mexican militia.
The group took the horses from General Castro’s forces and brought the herd to Fremont’s camp. Soon after reaching camp, they left once more and on this day in 1846 launched an assault on the town of Sonoma.
Although not garrisoned, Sonoma was the home of the influential General Vallejo, who they captured while he lay asleep in bed.
With the cat out of the bag, so to speak, Fremont finally overtly joined the rebellion, which had already declared itself a revolution in the name of the California Republic.
Marching south through Yerba Buena, the motley band of revolutionaries, and Fremont’s company of 62 soldiers, finally made it to the city of Monterey.
There they met a U.S. Navy commodore at the head of a small fleet of ships.
Quite unknown to the revolutionaries and Fremont, the United States had declared war on Mexico in May – weeks before the beginning of the so-called insurrection.
This fluke of timing would prove Fremont’s salvation in the future when America’s leaders started questioning how a lowly officer – albeit an already famous explorer – felt he had the authority to incite a revolt against a peaceful neighboring country.
The California Republic proved fleeting, lasting one day short of a month.
On July 9, American forces replaced the Bear Flag with the American flag in Sonoma and declared the territory for the United States.
No matter to Fremont, who was already riding the wave of this recent success to the eventual military governorship of the new U.S. territory.
Sure, maybe his own estimate of himself was a bit inflated. But the man knew how to take advantage of each situation fate placed him in.
Antone Pierucci is the former curator of the Lake County Museum in Lake County, Calif., and a freelance writer whose work has been featured in such magazines as Archaeology and Wild West as well as regional California newspapers.