Sonoma. Fifty-two. Jacob R. Snyder. Pennsylvania. Sacramento City. Thirty-four. L. W. Hastings. Mt. Vernon, Ohio. Sacramento. Thirty. Pablo de la Guerra. California. Santa Barbara. Thirty. José Ant^o. Do. Angeles. Fifty-three. Carrillo. Man^l. Dominguez. Do. Do. Forty-six. P. Ord. Maryland. Monterey. Thirty-three. Edw. Gilbert. New York. San Francisco. Twenty-seven. Miguel de Pedrorena. Spain. San Diego. Forty-one. A. J. Ellis. New York. San Francisco. Thirty-three. [Illustration: VALLEY OF THE SACRAMENTO AND SAN JOAQUIN. _J. W. ORR. N.Y._] THREE YEARS IN CALIFORNIA. CHAPTER I. THE FLAG.—MEETING OF CITIZENS.—DISPOSITION OF FORCES.—COL. FREMONT’S BAND.—ALCALDE OF MONTEREY.—INDIAN MOTHER.—MILITARY LEADERS.—A CALIFORNIA FARM. A few words will place within the clear comprehension of the reader, the posture of public affairs in California at the time my journal opens. The U. S. flag was raised at Monterey and San Francisco on the 10th of July, 1846. This event was wholly unexpected by the Californians, and struck the public heart with the deepest surprise; other causes of alarm and apprehension faded into shadow in the presence of this decisive measure; they were the admonitory vibrations, but here was the earthquake itself. The people were more astounded than indignant, and quite as intent over problems of preservation as measures of resistance. At a public meeting held at Monterey, in which the patriotism, talents, and sagacity of the country were largely represented, the question of throwing the territory under the protection of England, through the naval forces commanded by Admiral Seymour, who was on the coast at the time, was excitingly discussed. But this proposition received its quietus under the successful railery of Don Raphael, of Monterey. “Our object,” said this witty counsellor, “is to preserve our country; but she is gone,—California is lost to us: and this proposal to invoke the protection of England, is only to seek another _owner_. The redress is worthy of the market-woman: a dog had robbed her hamper of a leg of mutton, and she sent another dog more powerful after him to get it away; when asked what good that would do her, she replied, it would be some satisfaction to see the _first_ dog deprived of the stolen leg. And so it is with us; the mutton is gone, and a choice of the dog only remains: others may prefer the bull-dog, but I prefer the regular hound; he has outstripped the other in the chase, and so let him have the game.” The convention broke up without adopting any decisive measures; leaving each one to act as his impulses or convictions of duty suggested.