THE BORDER EAGLES

CHAPTER TWELVE

THIS LAND IS MINE

Rancho Agua Dulce, The San Fernando Valley California, 25. August 1848.

The military government of California had left most of the existing local laws and officials in place, but before he went to register the deed, he went to see the local military commander, a colonel. He told the adjutant that he was a former major of the mounted rifles and wished to see the commander on a serious matter. The commander agreed to see him.

"What can I do for you, Major?"

"Colonel, I am newly arrived from Mexico after leaving the service. While in Mexico I married a young widow. She wasn't actually a Mexican citizen, originally from Ireland. Nonetheless her father-in-law treated her as a daughter even after her husband died.

As a wedding present, he gave us a ranch here. I have the deed with me. The deed was witnessed by General Scott's staff judge advocate. The deed bears his signature and seal as well as the Mexican authorities. I request that you witness that."

"Before we get to that, may I ask why a Major as young as you chose to leave the service?"

"Sir, I was in the forefront of the war for two years. I saw too much brutality up close. Before that I saw service with the Dragoons in Kansas Territory, against Indians and white renegades. I don't want to live that way anymore. Of course, If America sees another war, I will return to service immediately. Another reason is that my twin brother lost his lower left leg in the war. As soon as he is able, he will join me here and well go into business together."

"May I ask why you need such a strongly vetted document?"

"My ranch manager tells me that a man named Davidson and his group of thugs have forced a couple of Mexican ranchers to sell out, claiming "California for Americans." Agua Dulce is going to throw a huge block in their plans as it's large and has the best water rights.

With the deed properly registered in my name, he can't use that tactic as I am an American citizen." Furthermore, if he tries it on any other ranchers, we can use your troops to stop him as he is violating provisions of the peace treaty, honoring Mexican land ownership rights. Furthermore, by provisions of the treaty Mexicans living in the new territories automatically became American citizens if they want."

"I didn't know about any of this, no one reported it to me."

"The Mexicans don't believe that you would do anything in their favor, against another American."

"Well, they are wrong Major. Let me see the document."

Rick presented both copies. The colonel read them, signed as a witness and stamped it with his official seal.

"They may still try to use force and I don't have a large enough garrison to mount constant patrols as I also have the duty of arresting local outlaws."

"With the local vaqueros and the men, I brought with me, I have a force of nineteen well- armed men. That should be enough to stand off Davidson's thugs if necessary."

"I don't want any range wars here, Major."

"Neither do I, sir, but this land is mine and I have the legal and moral right to defend it."

"I have an idea, Major. As I said, I don't have enough troops. But what if I commission you as a Major of Militia and authorize you to raise a battalion of militia. The governor already authorized a militia recruitment but until you arrived. I couldn't find a qualified officer to command the unit. I didn't want the usual militia practice of electing its' own officers regardless of whether they had any military knowledge or not."

"I accept the offer. Two of the men working for me, served with me in Mexico. I can commission them. They'll make good officers."

"You probably won't be able to raise more than a company but it will officially be a battalion. Best that you start recruiting right away."

"Raise your right hand, major." Rick was sworn in and the commander had his clerk write out a commission for Rick and then one for a captain and three lieutenants, filling in the names as Rick gave them to him. "These hand written commissions will do until we can get the printed ones down from the capitol." He also had the adjutant give him blank warrants forms for sergeants and corporals.

"Come back to me in an hour. I will have my old major's shoulder boards You can put them on your old uniform coat. You can wear your old uniform until we can get you fitted out with a major of infantry's uniform.

I have a better idea, sir. Why don't we make it a mounted battalion? Most of the men I'll be recruiting own horses. We could call it the California Mounted Volunteers."

"Each man will have to supply his own weapon and ammunition, Major. At least temporarily. That will be a logistics headache."

"That's no different than most militias operate in the smaller states. But if the governor does approve the unit, I have enough cash on hand to order one hundred rifles or carbines. The territory can reimburse me or the men can buy one from me, at cost. I'll make no profit on the deal. But that will probably take six months to accomplish."

"Very well, Major but in the interim, I'll see if the governor can supply some muskets."

When Rick arrived at the rancho, he told Kate about what had occurred at his meeting with the commander. Kate was visibly surprised and not at all happy with the situation.

"I had hoped that you were done with the military for good."

"I know, Sweetheart, but the situation being what it is, I couldn't see a better option. Now at least if Davidson and his gang try to use force, I will have full force of the law behind me in resisting and even arresting him. It might mean that I could get away with arresting him, rather than having to kill him. But make no mistake, if he actually attacks, I will kill him if I have to."

Kate sighed.

"I don't like it, My Darling, but I do understand that you will do what you have to do to protect us. Let us hope that it doesn't come to that."

Rick called Vincente, Patrick, Sean, Antonio and Raoul to meet with him. When they were all assembled, he said;

"Raoul has told you about the situation with the land grabbers. I have our deed registered and that should buy us some time while they try to finagle a way around it. But I have more news. I met with the local military commandant, and explained the situation. He commissioned me a major of militia and authorized me to raise a militia battalion. I doubt if I can raise more than a company. I am asking you to all join the militia. I will also ask all of our vaqueros. It's all volunteer. I'll not force any man. Patrick, I'm offering you a commission as captain, my second in command. Sean, you a lieutenancy. Raoul. Also, a lieutenant, unless you want to go back to Mexico right away. Vincente, a lieutenant as the adjutant, handling all the paperwork. Antonio, first sergeant."

There was no hesitation. All the men accepted. Rick said;

"Except for Patrick, Sean and myself we have no uniforms or rank insignia for our officers and non -commissioned officers. So, we will buy some material and make sashes. Crimson for officers, red for sergeants and yellow for corporals. I'm sure that we can find some seamstresses that can use the money. Antonio, go talk to the vaqueros and see what they will do."

Every one of the vaqueros on the rancho agreed to serve in the militia. They were all sworn in and Rick told them to all get their weapons and meet him behind the hacienda. Three had rifles, the rest muskets, musketoons or fowling pieces. Most had single shot pistols. All the firearms were flintlocks. all had large hunting knives. Rick had them shoot at one-foot-wide boards set out at fifty yards. The three with rifles and seven others of the best shots were issued the ten rifles Rick had purchased in Mexico. The three flintlock rifles were passed on to men who had muskets and the muskets to men who had fowling pieces. The three carbines purchased for Rick's escort were issued to Raoul, Vincente and Antonio.

Despite the need to form the militia, the daily work of the rancho had to go on, With Rick and Antonio both on the rancho, Raoul and two of is vaqueros were free to contact the other rancheros and vaqueros. I ten days they had forty well mounted, armed men sworn in.

Rancho Agua Dulce, 09 September 1848.

About ten that morning, a courier arrived from the colonel asking Rick to come to his headquarters as soon as possible. Rick told Kate that he had to go into Los Angeles, but he'd be back before supper.

He called Patrick and Sean to go with him. The courier waited to ride in with him. The four men arrived a little before one. They were immediately shown in to the colonel's office.

"Come in gentlemen. Let's get down to business, then I can offer you some lunch. I have some good news for you. The governor has approved the battalion and here is his written order. He has also approved and issued your commissions. And authorized you, Major to swear your officers and men in. I have enough blank commission forms for all the officers in a battalion, although I doubt that you'll ever use them all.

Although we don't have complete uniforms to issue to your men, the governor is sending down one hundred forage caps and fifty pair of plain blue trousers. Sorry no shirts, coats or belts or rank insignia."

Rick told him about his sash's idea.

"That should work as a temporary measure, but I want the officers and NCOs with proper rank insignia eventually. You say that you have a goodly amount of cash on hand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Order enough shoulder boards for three captains and nine lieutenants. Also, chevrons for the normal complements of NCO's."

"Now for the really good news. There is a stock of fifty old M1840 muskets left over when the 11th reequipped with the 1842 Those are being sent down along with powder and ball. No bayonets or cartridge boxes. Everything should be here within by next week. I'll have a wagon bring everything to your ranch.

Also, go ahead and order enough of some type of carbine for a company' I have the governor's written warrant to reimburse you. Have the money to me to me by Tuesday so I can get a bank draft off. The army mail wagon is going east on Wednesday.

"Yes Sir."

"Let me swear these two officers in and we can have some lunch."

That evening Rick told Kate about everything that had gone on that day.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart, that I'm going to have to lay out around sixteen hundred dollars. That's a lot of money. The territory will reimburse me for most of it, but that might take six months to a year."

"I'm not worried, my Darling, yes that's a lot of money, but it isn't so much that it will cause any difficulty for us, even if you don't get reimbursed. Besides, it is for our and our neighbor's security.

Tomorrow we will ride into town and Carlotta, Consuelo and I will purchase the cloth we need for the sash's Two bolts in each color should do it. After all, at this point we only have four officer's sashes to make using yours as a pattern. Each sergeant's or corporal's wife or girlfriend can get the pattern and material from us and make their own man's sash.

So, on Saturday they drove to a fabric store. The Californios were a colorful bunch so, it was not difficult to find the colors needed plus thread and needles. they had a nice lunch, then headed back to the rancho

Rick was surprised that Davidson and his thugs had made no move, yet on the rancho, after hid initial approach before Rick arrived. That changed. Apparently, He'd try to do it by talking first and making an offer. Of course, it was one quarter of what the rancho was worth. Two men in a buckboard were seen approaching the house.

Rick, Raoul and Vincente went out to meet them. Rick was dressed like a Californio, A waist length jacket, white shirt. Tight fitting riding pants

and riding boots with large-rowled spurs, a flat crowned, flat brim black hat worn at a slight angle. Keeping up the pretense, for a moment, he said, in Spanish;

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
A florid faced, heavy-set man said;

"I am Titus S. Williams Attorney at Law representing Doctor Joshua Davidson, the gentleman with me."

Davidson was a dark haired, handsome man, several inches over six feet tall.

"We are here to offer you ten thousand dollars for this ranch."

Rick laughed, scornfully. Still speaking Spanish, he said;

"That is one quarter of what it is worth."

Davidson snarled;

"That's all you're going to get and you will take it if you're smart. California is for Americans.

Rick switched to English.

"Well then, you ought to be happy to learn that this ranch belongs to me. I am Major Richard Rodgers, late of the U.S. Mounted Rifles. This ranch is not for sale at any price you care to name. The deed to the ranch has been registered at the courthouse, I advise you to check that, Mister Williams. That concludes any business you may have here. Don't come again as you will be trespassing and will be shot. Good day, gentlemen."

An angry Davidson said;

"This is isn't over, Rodgers you should have taken the offer." Rick didn't say anything else, just turned and walked back into the house. He had almost said something about the militia, but was glad he hadn't. The less Davidson knew, the better. He was sure to find out, but the later, he found out, the less he could do to try and counter.

Rancho Agua Dulce, 16, September 1848.

Just before eleven o'clock, one of the vaqueros rode up to the house, dismounted climbed up to the porch and knocked on the door, calling out for Rick. Rick came out and said;

"What is it, Victor?"

"Senor, three wagons with an escort are approaching the rancho."

"Thank you, Victor. Go find Antonio and have him bring six men here."

About five minutes later, the wagons arrived and an officer got of his horse, walked up and said;

"I am Lieutenant Saxon, Major. I have the shipment. You will have to sign for it."

"Very well, Lieutenant, Drive the wagons over to the barn. My men will help yours unload it and I'll inspect it. After that we'll provide lunch for you and your men. Nothing fancy, just beef, beans, tortillas and backed squash. We have coffee or some pretty good home brewed beer."

"That sounds good, sir. Let's get to it."

With ten men working, the unloading and storing in the barn went quickly. Rick opened the crates of muskets first. The muskets were all flintlock and while used were in excellent condition, The men they were issued to would have the fun of cleaning the heavy grease from the weapons. The crates of rifles, barrels of powder and boxes of shot were all covered with tarps. In addition to the loose powder and ball there were boxes of prepared paper cartridges these too were stacked and covered. The forage caps and trousers were taken into the house and stored in a spare room.

The supply detail was fed and returned to fort Moore. *

Over the next few days, Rick called in some of the militiamen and issued twenty of the muskets, with one hundred rounds of ammunition each. The forage caps and trousers were also issued.

The Imperial Saloon, Los Angeles, 23. September 1848.

Although doctor Davidson had an office where he saw enough patients to keep the façade going the real headquarters of his illicit enterprises was the Imperial saloon. He had a gang of about twenty men. The day of the gunfighter had not yet arrived, so, they were mostly strong- arm men and street toughs.

Disgraced in New York by a scandal involving the daughter of a wealthy family, Davidson had fled New York with a large chunk of his own wealthy family's money. He actually was a fairly good MD and he'd hid behind his credentials. He first fled to New Orleans, then on to Saint Louis, San Francisco and finally Los Angeles, arriving in 1845. In each city he'd added to his fortune. He'd acquired his lawyer in Saint Louis who was fleeing an embezzlement charge.

Davidson was meeting with his lawyer, in the office of the Imperial. The lawyer was talking.

"I've checked that deed over six ways from Sunday. It's rock solid. There's not a thing we can do about it, even with the alcalde in our pocket."

"Then I think it's time for the boys to take a night ride. It's been a couple of weeks; they've probably dropped their guard by now. We ride tonight. Masks, torches, guns. We'll catch them by surprise and wipe them out. Leave a couple of sombreros. It will be blamed on Mexican bandits."

Davidson's assumption was way off the mark. He's never dealt with an officer before, nor had any of his men and their ignorance showed.

Rick wasn't about to let his guard down. He was certain what Davidson's threat had meant and believed that he would try to carry it through He told all of his men to sleep with their guns loaded.

He kept four men awake all night, every night on a rotating basis. He also stationed a man with a spyglass and a fast horse a mile out from the rancho.

Davidson was a greedy, unscrupulous man. A schemer. His two biggest weaknesses were impatience and physical cowardice There was no way he'd lead a raid himself. He left that to his second in command, a man named Preston Cole. A man as evil as his boss, but his opposite, both physically and emotionally. He reveled in violence, enjoying carrying it out. Cole was broad and muscular with heavy, coarse features. His brutish appearance often caused people to assume he was stupid. He wasn't.

"Boss, there is a full moon tonight. Maybe we'd better wait a few more days for a darker night."

"No, we've waited long enough. The moon won't matter. They won't be alert after this long. They'll just believe that it was an empty threat."

That assumption was to prove a serious error in judgement. A fatal mistake for many members of his gang.

The gang assembled just out of town. Cole had misgivings about the raid, but knew that if he didn't do as he was told, Davidson would have another gang member kill him while he slept and take his place.

They begin the ride about seven o'clock expecting to hit the rancho about ten, people on a working ranch tended to go to bed early.

Jaime Celestas was sitting on top of a small hill with Rick's spyglass. He had a very small fire going, just enough to keep his coffee hot. His nickname was Ojos de Aguila, eagle eyes. He was scanning the horizon when he saw a flare of light. He focused the spyglass and saw a group of riders about half a mile away. He kicked dirt over his fire, mounted his horse and galloped for the rancho. He reached the ranch and called to Antonio, who was one of the men on guard.

"Antonio, tell the Senor that the bad men are coming."

Rick was still up. He'd been working on the books. Antonio entered the room.

"Senor, the bad men are coming."

"Very well. Antonio wake up the rest of the men and tell them to get ready."

Rick quickly strapped on both of his Walker Colts. He'd had the holsters made before he left Mexico. He also picked up the Colt revolving carbine. As this would be close in work, the longer range of his M1841 was not needed. Everyone gathered on the porch. Only fifteen men, all told. Four of the vaqueros were out guarding the cattle.

"Everybody take cover and wait for my word. Nobody fires until I order it."

Cole halted his men about two hundred yards from the house. No lights were showing. The only thing that bothered him was the six-foot high adobe wall surrounding the house. There was only about a thirty- foot wide opening that they would all have to ride through. The outlaws lit their torches. It took a couple of minutes to get all twenty lit.

"All right boys, let's hit them. There might be some pretty women there after we've done for the men."

The plan was to throw the torches through the windows then shoot through the windows and shoot people as they ran out of the burning house. As it was, they never got the chance to throw any torches inside.

Cole yelled and fired a shot into the air, the signal to start the attack. When the outlaws reached fifty yards, Rick yelled "Fire." A blast of rifle and musket fire tore into the outlaws. About half of them went down in the first volley. The stunned outlaws had expected the easy raid and loot Cole had promised them. Three of them managed to turn their horses and flee. The outlaws were bullies and toughs, not real fighting men.

Rick stood and fired the remaining four rounds from the carbine, The rest fired their pistols. Two more outlaws, wounded but not unhorsed managed to get away. Fifteen men lay on the ground eight dead and seven wounded. Four would live to stand trial. Three would die before dawn. One of them, shot in the head, never regained consciousness.

One, shot in the chest, lived for a couple of hours, finally passing out from the pain and dying fifteen minutes later. In a case of poetic justice, Cole was gut shot. Nothing could be done for him with a sixty-nine-caliber ball in his belly. Rick walked over to him.

"You know that you are gut shot, there is no way Doctor Wilson can get here in time to save you, even if he could. So, as I see it you have two choices. you can lie here in the dirt and bleed out or we can take you into the house and bandage your wound and give you whisky for the pain. All you have to do is swear on a bible who your boss is" It won't hurt your reputation as this was your last fight."

Cole groaned with the pain. "Take me inside, my boss is Dr Davidson.

Cole was taken inside, cleaned up and bandaged, but before he got his whisky, he had to sign a brief confession, naming Dr. Davidson.

Four of Rick's men stood guard. The rest collected the outlaw's weapons and rounded up their horses. Unfortunately, four of the horses lay dead alongside the evil men who had ridden them.

Immediately after breakfast, Rick sent Patrick into Los Angeles with a written report of the failed raid and with Cole's signed confession. He was to give the report to Colonel Weston and ask him to send a detail from the fort to take the four wounded outlaws into custody and a wagon to take the bodies of the dead to be buried in unmarked graves.

The Imperial Saloon, Los Angeles, 24. September 1848.

Josh Davidson and Titus Williams sat in the saloon's office, Josh smoking a cheroot. Williams said;

I am worried, Josh. The boys should be back by now."

"They're probably still looting the place, drinking and enjoying the women. He snickered. I doubt that the women are enjoying the experience. If it gets to noon, I'll worry."

He'd no sooner said that then the office door crashed open. An army officer and several soldiers stood there.

"Are you men Joshua Davidson and Titus Williams?"

Williams stood up.

"I am Titus S. Williams, attorney at law, representing Doctor Davidson, Major. What is the meaning of this rude intrusion?"

"I ask again, are you Joshua Davidson?"

"I am Doctor Davidson. Who the hell are you?"

"I am Major Franklin Severs, Provost Marshal. You are both under arrest for conspiracy to commit attempted murder, attempted robbery and grand larceny. Stand up and place your hands behind your backs."

The Courthouse, Los Angeles. 24, October 1848.

Davidson and Williams stood before the Judge.

Joshua Davidson. You have been found guilty on all charges and specifications. I wish that we could hang you for murder, but since you didn't actually kill anyone, I cannot. There fore for the crimes committed you are sentenced to twenty years at hard labor. Furthermore, it is the judgement of this court that you acquired the two ranches in the Los Angeles area by threats and coercion, your title to them is voided and they are returned to their rightful owners. The Imperial saloon is to be sold and the proceeds of that sale be used to pay fines and court costs.

Titus Williams you are found guilty of the same charges as Doctor Davidson and are sentenced to twenty years at hard labor. Bailiff, take charge of the prisoners.

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*Fort Moore was built on a hill overlooking Los Angeles and the American Flag raised there on July Fourth 1847. The site is now the LAUSD headquarters and the site of the pioneer memorial.