Nieto particularly liked a fertile plain he remembered which lay between two rivers. He liked it so much that when he got back he lobbied for ownership.
He was an old soldier looking for a retirement estate. He got it. In 1784 Governor Pedro Fages (once Portola’s second in command), wrote his superiors asking for land grants to four old soldiers, one of them Nieto. Despite somewhat casual boundaries, when approved Nieto’s was the largest, at least 300,000 acres, an area which would now include Long Beach, Lakewood, Norwalk, Pico Rivera, Downey, Santa Fe Springs and even Signal Hill and Huntington Beach.
Nieto retired from the army to give his full attention to his new vast lands in 1795. By the time of his death in 1804 he was the richest man in California.
Huge herds of cattle ran wild here, often crossing the low rivers in summer to cause disputes with his neighbors, particularly Jose Dominguez to the west.
On his death he gave his lands to his four children. By 1833 his heirs tired of bickering and petitioned the Governor, Jose Figueroa, to divide the property equitably.
There was more to this. Mexico had recently become independent of Spain (1821), and a legal division of the property under the new government would insure title. The huge grant was divided into six portions, Santa Gertrudes, Los Alamitos, Los Cerritos, Los Coyotes, Los Bolsas and Palo Alto. Only the last name no longer survives here.
Rancho Santa Gertrudes (geographically today Downey and Norwalk), went to Josefa Cota, widow of Antonio Nieto, old Manuel’s son.
The west boundary was the Rio Hondo River. It ran from the Rio Hondo at the Whittier Boulevard crossing, south to where the Rio Hondo meets the Los Angeles River.
The Santa Gertrudes holding also contained the old Nieto homestead with its vineyards, orchards and vegetable gardens. It was the center of social life east of the Los Angeles pueblo.
It even harbored a political conspiracy in 1835, when some tough free-booters from Sonora used it as a stepping stone to try and spark an uprising against Governor Figueroa in Los Angeles. They clearly misjudged his popularity. They found no support when they got to L.A., and were sent back to Sonora in disgrace.
The guitars and the dancing at the rancho returned to normal.
But meanwhile, California, which had all but been forgotten since Mexico’s independence from Spain in 1821, had been quietly rediscovered. The "finder" was none other than the famed trapper and mountain man Jedediah Smith, who in 1826 led a party of his fellows from Cache Valley, Utah, through the Grand Canyon to Needles.
The Indians there directed him to the San Bernardino Mountains. They crossed at Cajon Pass and descended into the San Bernardino Valley, then skirted the base of the mountains until they reached Mission San Gabriel. He and his fellow trappers were greeted warmly at the Mission, but California’s Governor, Jose Maria Echeandiar was stunned at the news. He ordered Smith and his men to be brought south to talks in San Diego. The road was right through Santa Gertrudes Rancho.
The door to the Americans had been opened. The mountains had been breached, and the mountain men liked what they saw here. They liked the senoritas, the rich land and the cattle. It was only a matter of time until more would follow.