 The Romance of the Ranchos. Whittier 1847. Americans break opposition in battle of San Gabriel. Whittier 1867. Great flood menaces home of Governor Pio Pico. Whittier 1941. Whittier the center of a great fruit growing area. The title insurance and trust company of Los Angles presents the Romance of the Ranchos. Dramatizing the highlights of history of Southern California. Each week our wandering vicaro Frank Graham unfolds another tale of the romantic, adventurous early days of some particular section of our Southland. Practically all of our stories of early California contain a good many incidents having to do with ownership of land. The original grants transfers by sale or foreclosure, boundary disputes and so on. This is because land ownership is a fundamental element in the shaping of all history. The motivating factor behind many of its most important events. The urge to own land is a basic human desire as old as civilization. Through the ages land has been coveted, stolen, fought over, defended even at the cost of life itself. Today, force of arms and physical combat are seldom required for the defense of private land ownership. The common risks are those that arise from forged instruments, forgotten mortgages or other leans, improperly or fraudulently executed documents. Claims of undisclosed heirs and similar title defects. The modern system of title insurance provides protection against these and other risks. And here to tell the story is our wandering vicaro Frank Graham. Buenos noches, senoras y señores. Tonight we're going to trace the history of the Rancho Paso de Bartolo Viejo. The favorite Rancho of Don Pio Pico, part of which has become the present city of Whittier. Many of you may have visited Pio Pico's Ranchos, which is still standing as a national monument near Whittier. But whether you have or not, I'm sure you'll find in its story much of the romance of the Rancho. For the beginning of our story, we must go back to the year 1771. The year in which the Padres of New Spain first established the Mission San Gabriel. A few miles from the new establishment, nestled in the foothills near the San Gabriel River, then called River San Miguel of the Earthquakes, was an Indian village and the elders of the council were a garg with the newest. My brothers, the crow has spoken truly. I have seen with my own eyes strangers come. Men with white skin build a great hot of brush. They have great animals bigger than the deer. They come to stay. But already there are too many here. In this village there are too many. We cannot live. We cannot find food enough. Perhaps these white men have food. Perhaps they can help us. No. I have seen them scraping the ground, looking for acorns onto the ground. Perhaps they do not even know where to look for acorns. Perhaps they do not search for acorns. Perhaps they know how to find food in the ground. No. These men. They cannot help us. Let us follow the paths of our brothers and find the fertile valleys to the south. There we will find better hunting grounds for the rabbit. We have heard our brothers tell it. Yes, brothers. We must leave this place of the wild bees and travel to the valley of much water. You may go. I stay behind. White men have strange ways. But perhaps they can help us find food. I will stay and speak with white men. Many Indians left the dry little village of Seja. But others stayed behind to become the neophytes of the Padres, Admissions and Gabriel. You see, my children, there is ample food for all. The great Padre in his mercy and kindness has provided bountiful gifts. If only we will take them. For him who is wise enough to spend his day on the planting seed and caring for the cattle, his harvest shall be great and he shall not want. And in his spirit he shall be content. So for these great gifts of earth and water and air and the life which flows in our bodies, we must give pious thanksgiving. It is right that we gather at the evening bell and sing praises to him. For years the Padres of San Gabriel talked the newly converted Indians of the land around Lomas Muertos or Dead Hills, known now as Puente Hills. Everywhere the product of their great work was apparent in the tilled fields, the orchards and vineyards, the irrigation ditches. The Indians who stayed behind in the village of Seja were happy and prosperous. But presently a controversy arose. One day in 1784 word came to the mission. Padre, Padre bring news from Santa Barbara. See what this is my son. This land to the east and south across El Camino Real along the San Gabriel River. It has been given to a soldier for his ranch. But this is mission land it cannot be given away. That may be. But the military governor Don Pedro Fajes has granted a certain soldier of his, Juan Manuel Nieto, the right to live and keep his cuddle there. But that land is the property of the mission, held in trust for its rightful owners, the native Indians. In a few years when they are able to govern themselves, we must give it back to them. But the governor has already acted. The land south of the Lomas Muertos are no longer the missions, but Manuel Nieto's. For the first time the secular power had infringed on what was considered the domain of the church. But it was not to be the last. It was the start of a long series of controversies which left missions shrunken to nothing. Missions themselves abandoned to decay. But in this case the Padres of San Gabriel won at least a point. At their request the 300,000 acre grant to Manuel Nieto was cut. And its northern boundary made the El Camino Real and the San Gabriel River. Thus returning the land which became what here to the control of the mission. But it was along the same El Camino Real, the main road from San Diego to the Pueblo de los Ángeles, that the first word came of events that sounded the death knell of the missions. It was in the year 1822 that a horseman sped up to the banks of the river San Gabriel. Dona, senor! Voila! You have been found, Nieto. See, from San Diego, is there water for my horse near here? I can get it for you, Marcienda. Or you can go out to Mission San Gabriel, if you'll excuse me. If I may trouble you, senor, I'd rather not go on. I had expected to find water in the river. Not this time of year, but if you'll come with me. See, may be hurry. I have important news to deliver at the Pueblo de los Ángeles. Important news? How about what? This, senor, is now a part of an independent republic. What? May he cause declared independence from the king of Spain. Now the missions were cut off from the paternal hand of the Spanish king and the new Mexican government soon passed laws providing for the secularization of all mission lands. Soon the government was distributing this land for private ranchos all over the Southland. In September of 1833 Juan Crispin Paris petitioned the governor for a grant of his own. A few months later he appeared before members of the Los Angeles Ayuntamiento who were investigating the claim. The Alcalde of the Pueblo called the council to order. A case of Juan Crispin Paris. Yes, senor, I am here. You have petitioned the governor for a grant of land. See, I wish it for my rancho. Senores, you have all seen Don Juan's claim to the land. This rancho you wish is located north of El Camino Real and extending from the hills sometimes called Lomas Muertos to the rivers and Gabrielles. Yes, that is it. It is called Paso de Bartola Viejo. I have lived there with my cattle for the space of some 30 years more or less. Who owns the land when you first settled there? Manuel Nieto. Later it was returned to public lands and I served as Mayor Domo for the Mission San Gabriel. But now this land is open to private ownership. I feel that it should be mine as I have cultivated it these many years. And the Mission San Gabriel has no objections? As long as the law is as it is they have none. Very well done Juan. If we shall pass our recommendation on to the governor. I think we are all agreed, are we not Senores, that this land should rightfully be granted to Don Juan Crispin Perez. Gracias Senoras, gracias. Governor Figueroa followed the recommendation of the Los Angeles Ayuntamiento and in 1835 granted to Juan Crispin Perez the Rancho Paso de Bartola Viejo or the Ford of the Yelderba Falamu. The next 10 years were unsettled ones for California culminating in the news in 1846 that Mexico was at war with the United States. Many of the Californians had more sympathy for the Americans than for their own bungling government. Nevertheless, they determined to defend their homes because of the uncertainty as to what might develop. But Commodore Stockton and General Carney were at San Diego and one day news reached Los Angeles. Di Maricano, Di Maricano, Di Scali. Marching north from San Diego. Heaverishly preparations were started. The call went out to the citizenry and soon an ill-equipped band of militia swelled the ranks of the insurgent forces under General José María Flores. Then on January 7th, scouts brought the information. Yes, General Flores. The number of about 600 men, dragon, sailors from the frigates anchored at San Diego and some of our own Californians. Californians fighting with the Americanos? Yes, they have joined them, about 30 I should say. Mother of God, our own blood. You say they are camped at Rancho Los Coyotes? Yes, for the night. Only a few miles from the pueblo and they will continue the march tomorrow. Then tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow we must meet them and stop them if we don't Los Angeles is lost. But General, where can we make a stand? At the rivers and Gabrielle. We are following El Camino Real. They will probably try to cross the river near the Puente Hills. Yes, on the Rancho, Juan Pérez. But we will be there to stop them. Shall I get the orders? Yes, we will move it for daybreak. The morning of January 8th, 1847. The Americans, 600 strong, marched along El Camino Real. The Californians drew up their lines at Paso de Bartolo Viejo from the banks of the San Gabriel, which is today called Rio Hondo. Across the land, which is now here, came the Americans and they stopped. General Carney, we're almost to the San Gabriel. Yes, they'll probably make a stand there. If they make a stand. I think they will. Everything our scouts have told us would seem to indicate that they are forcing us. We can still see their scouts all around us. And have you noticed, there are many more than before? Yes, their main body is probably near at the river. Then we better form and line a battle, men. Right, we can probably expect to attack any time now. All right, men, take your battle positions. Take your scouts. Then I'll bring up the dragoons. Martin, your musketeers will follow with the Marines and sailors bringing up the artillery. Baggage in the center. Rear guard with the cattle and two field guns. All right, men, give the orders. Handle up our pen. If we get through here, I'll fight one. Over. Must be 400 of them. Thank goodness the river is almost dry. We'd have a hard fight crossing water, as it is, Bert. We're trying to threaten our advance. All right, men, hold your fire. But advance suddenly. Just move ahead. We're going over. They've gone back from the other side. They thought they could pile this up. Now they're shooting. Well, they can't do any damage. They're too far away. They're great for spalling short. It looks like they have a couple of cannons. Yes, that may give us some trouble. Keep moving, men, right ahead to the first bank of the river. At least we can take this in two jumps. So, we're almost to the bank. It's almost in range now. All right, men, return the fire and keep going. We're going to take the first bank opposite. Down the first bank, across the dry streambed, advancing steadily came the Americans. Up the opposite bank, the enemy, only a few yards ahead. The Californians were driven from the first bank of the streambed. Quickly they formed another line on the bluff, as the Americans prepared to storm the height. That one was close. Those cannons of theirs must be stuffed. Brothers, bring up that nine pounder. We'll put him on a commission in no time. We can hit a sombrero at a thousand yards with this cannon. Let's take out that first gun over there at 300. Is she all set, boys? Ready to fire, Commodore. Well, let me get the sight on her, boys, and we'll show the army what marksmanship is. Look out! Say, that was close. Hurry up, Commodore. Put that gun out of commission before it does some damage. A hand here, man. A little twist to the right. There. Hold it. All right, boys, there's the aim. Let her go. That's the end of this battle right now. From here on in. How about casualty, Captain? Bring them up now, sir. There's several wounded and fresh straws. Dead? Yes, sir. We can be thankful or want more, but even one. His name will be long remembered, for he died in the service of his country Yes, the Battle of San Gabriel marked the winning of California for the United States. And after California's admission into the Union in 1850, an early decision by the newly formed United States Land Commission changed the boundaries of Rancho Paso de Botola, as Frank Graham will tell you in just a moment. Admission to the Union also led very soon to the passage of laws providing for the public recording and preservation of all written instruments having to do with the transfer of land titles. That clearly started something. Today there are more than two million deeds on file in the Los Angeles County Recorder's office, more than three-quarters of a million mortgages and scores of thousands of other written instruments of various kinds. Since 1907 an accurate count of the numbers of documents recorded in the county has been kept. From that year to the end of 1940 a grand total of almost ten and a half million documents were recorded. All facts contained in these millions of documents which pertain to the ownership of land are transcribed and segregated properties they affect in the offices of the title insurance and trust company of Los Angeles. That is why for so little cost and so little delay you may obtain from this company a policy of title insurance for your protection when you buy, sell, lend, or borrow on real estate. The Battle of the San Gabriel at Paso de Botola Viejo was one of the last battles of the war and was the last time the Californians put up a stiff resistance to the Americans. Shortly after a distinguished Californian returned to Los Angeles after the war, we are glad to have you back Don Pio. See, we are all hoping for your return, Governor Pico. Yes, Senorys, not governor. I'm no longer governor of this department. In fact, it is no longer a department of Mexico for the territory of the United States. I see, but your things have been different. No, mi amigo. Things couldn't have been different. I don't think I should have cared to have them different. I felt that even when I left to go to Mexico I said then that resistance was useless. Now, you see what could be done? I found only indifference at the capital and they cared nothing for Alpe, California. And they were willing that the Americanos should have it. And they do have it now. See, and that is for the best. The Americanos won California. Mexico did not. The Americanos would build up this great country of ours. And I, for one, will give them every ounce of my support. Don Pio Pico, the Mexican governor of California, came back to become a loyal and distinguished American. And in 1850, he added to his already enormous land holdings the Rancho Paso de Bartola Viejo, which he bought from the years of Juan Pérez. On the banks of San Jose Creek, which is now known as the San Gabriel River, he built an adobe mansion and his reputation for the most lavish hospitality grew. Don Pio, I've never seen such a wonderful ball. Do you like it, señor? I am glad. Do you like Rancho? Well, Rancho, what do you call it then? Well, because it is so small. Small. I'd say this was quite a mansion for this country. You see, the house, it is comfortable. But the Rancho, it is very small. Not the Rancho at all, just the Rancho. Oh, I see. Well, I suppose compared to your other Ranchos, like Rancho Santa Margarita to the south, this is pretty small. Oh, yes, Santa Margarita, 133,000 acres. Paso de Bartola, 9,000, you see? Rancho. I live here. Let my neighborhood almost take care of the rest. Well, I don't blame you. It's practically perfect. The courtyard, looking out over the pointy hills, the ballroom, looking out over the creek. See, any fun place to race the horse? Señor, you have never seen a California horse race, have you? No, I can't say I have. Well, just you wait until tomorrow. You shall see a real horse race. Between my eyes, you'll lay home some no-good horse of Diego, say, Pulvera. It's over 1,000 yards at two o'clock sharp. I wouldn't miss that for anything. And, Señor, if you don't want to lose your money, be sure to bet on my arsulejo. Oh, betting too, eh? Well, maybe I might put up a fiver. Fiver, Señor, you mean $5,000, of course. Well, oh, no, no, I meant $5,000. Oh, but, Señor, I doubt if you can find anyone willing to bet so little. Well, how much is bet on this race? I should say about $40,000. There is, of course, not counting the cattle and the horses, the sheep, the ranch lands and... Holy smokes. Maybe I'd better just watch this one. The lavish, splendid extravagance of the dones manifested itself in horse racing with terrific stakes involved, as well as in great fiestas and entertainments. But a new era was about to dawn and slowly the noose of debts tightened about the necks of the old Californians. As P.O. Pico's debts mounted, his land shrunk. But before his beloved El Ranchita was gone, two things added to his woes. The first was the great flood of 1867. Don't fear, don't fear. The water is still rising if it's almost washing against the foundations of the house. Oh, my orchards, my beautiful orchards. They are ruined. Look at them, water rushing through them, tearing out the trees, carrying away the fertile land. I'm so worried about them as I am about us. The water may keep on rising. It may crumble the walls of this adobe. We'd better get out of here. Look, here comes a man. It's Romon. Romon! Don Pico, I was coming to warn you to get out of here, but I was afraid too late. Too late? See, the water back there is worse. My horse lost his footing trying to cross the irrigation ditch. I was thrown to the bank, the horse whacked away. We couldn't get through the hills now. Then we'll just have to stay here and poke for the best. The roof doesn't come down on us. I've never seen such a flood. I've never seen such a flood. I've been up on the hills from there. It looks to me like this flood is changing the course of the San Gabriel River. In fact, the whole river is coming right down south of the creek, and your big irrigation ditch. Madre de Dios, and here we are. May God have mercy on us. The San Gabriel River did change its course to the channel we know today. Its old course is known today as the Rio Hondo. Don Pico escaped the water's wrath, and another blow had come to him. The United States Land Commission, in determining the boundaries of the original grant of the Rancho Paso de Bartolo, had excluded that section of the land, which was to become Huedir. The rest of the land Don Pico kept until 1892, when creditors finally dispossessed him. But in the meantime, the land which had been returned to the government was sold to various individuals. And finally, in 1881, an Indiana farmer, John M. Thomas, bought it up and built a house. In 1887, it was the scene of a conference between two men. You say your name's Pickering? Yes, A. H. Pickering of Chicago. My wife and I are out here in California looking for a place to buy. Oh, you're planning to settle down here then? Well, not exactly. I want to buy land as a site for a town. You see, I represent the Society of Friends. Oh, Quakers, you mean? Yes. My wife and I have been from Sacramento to Ensenada, and this is the finest spot we have found. And since I understand it's for sale... Oh, sure. Come right on in. I'm sure we can make a deal, all right. The deal was made, and the Quaker Colony was started. The leader, Jonathan Bailey, moved into the old Thomas' house, and on its porch the next Sunday, services were held. And thank the old Lord for this great bountiful country which now has provided for us. Blessed, and this new town of it here, which we have founded in thy name. A year named for the great Quaker poet, James Greenleaf Whittier, was founded. In May 1887, the first blocks were sold. The new town was established just in time to get in on the boom of the 80s and land prices soared. Quakers poured in from every part of the country, and the new city was on its way. Today, Whittier is the center of a market area of homes and industry with 32,000 happy citizens devoted to pleasant and productive living. And on this place of the wild bees, where stood an Indian village and where a great battle was fought, this land is today covered with miles of fertile orchards yielding valuable harvest of California's crop of gold. Such is the story of progress and the romance of the ranchos. In a moment, Frank Graham will tell you a little about next week's exciting story. The purpose of the title insurance and trust company in sponsoring these broadcasts is two-fold. First, to enable you to share the thrills and inspiration that come from knowledge of our community's romantic and adventurous past. To be familiar with the people who lived here and the things they did long before our time makes living in Southern California actually more fun, makes names and places twice as interesting. Second, by means of these programs, the title insurance and trust company hopes to acquaint you with the nature and the value of title insurance and the work that must precede you will not hesitate to avail yourself of this necessary protection whenever you deal in real estate. Now, Frank, what's the story for next week? Ah, next week, we'll have a story about a famous battle of Southern California in which the total casualties were two horses and one mule. It took place in San Fernando Valley on the Rancho Ex Mission Bay San Fernando and it's a story you'll want to hear. So until next week, this is your wandering Baccaro Frank Graham saying, Hasta la vista, señoras y señoras. The Romance of the Ranchos, a presentation of the title insurance and trust company of Los Angeles, featuring Frank Graham as your wandering Baccaro comes to you each week at the same time. Bob Lamont speaking, this is the Columbia Broadcasting System.