Forget the Alamo!

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Forget the Alamo! Page 6

by Drew McGunn


  Captain Carey joined Bonham at the nearby campfire and turned when he heard Will. He replied, “That’s right. We brought all two-hundred loads for them. Just no solid shot or exploding shells.”

  Will beckoned Carey over to the table, “Where do we stand on having our guns emplaced along the ford here?”

  Carey grinned, “Finished last night, Colonel. Each gun has a few loads ready to go, but most of them are well away from our batteries.”

  Will asked, “Why?”

  Carey responded, “Our cannon are shotguns on wheels, sir. Very deadly out to a hundred yards. But when the Mexicans attack, we’ll only get one chance to fire the cannon.

  “No surprises there.” Will thought. He turned to Bowie and asked, “Jim, what’s the disposition of our men?”

  Bowie said, “Buck, when you left, we had one hundred forty men. We left a dozen to keep an eye on the sick and wounded at the hospital, but even so, we marched out with one hundred twenty-eight men. Seguin here met us at the Nueces with fifty men, and Colonel Crockett with his dozen. So, we’ve positioned ourselves along the north bank of the Rio Grande, with our cannon dug in, with one hundred ninety men effective for duty.”

  Will saw Fannin preening, waiting for Bowie to finish talking. He asked, “What about your men, James?”

  “Once we scooped up Colonel Grant’s men along with our reserves from Goliad, we brought in more than five hundred men, Colonel Travis.” Fannin said, “Between Jim’s and ours we’ve got seven hundred here!”

  Will and the other officers fell silent in astonishment, realizing they had managed to collect seven hundred men on the banks of the Rio Grande and had done it before Santa Anna’s army arrived. As it dawned on them what they had accomplished, everyone smiled. There was only one other thing needed. Defeat Santa Anna.

  Chapter 6

  Will stood on the north bank of the Rio Grande, along with Colonels Fannin and Bowie, David Crockett, and Captains Seguin, Carey, and Dickinson. He looked across the wide river with a telescoping spyglass. It spanned more than four hundred feet, but south of the ford was a low island that hugged the Texas side of the river for five hundred feet. After talking to Seguin earlier, it was clear that this was the only place where Santa Anna could safely send his artillery across the river within dozens of miles. He turned to Seguin, “Juan, what do we know about other nearby fords?”

  Seguin replied, “There’s another ford a few miles northeast of a little village of Guerrero over across the river. Other than that, there may be places to ford, but they pose challenges regarding infantry and artillery, as the terrain inconvenient to both.”

  Will nodded. Seguin’s synopsis made sense, but he wanted more information about the ford upriver. “How far away from here is this other ford and what makes this one here better than that one, Juan?”

  “The other ford is maybe twenty miles north,” Seguin said, “But it’s two hundred yards wider and maybe a foot deeper. I have a few men stationed up there, just in case we’re wrong.”

  Will frowned and shook his head. This wasn’t an ideal place to do battle given the low rising island that ran south of the ford. Finally, he said, “It’s not the most ideal location, gentlemen, but we either stop him here for a while or we hightail it back to the Nueces and try again.”

  Bowie waved Will’s comment away, “When we came south across the Nueces, it wasn’t much more than a lazy creek, Buck. I’m sure we could hold them on the Nueces, but even if that damned island is an inconvenience, I think this is still a better choice for us.”

  Captain Dickinson added, “Colonel Travis, with your permission, I’d like to show you what we’ve done with our artillery.” Will nodded and he continued, “We’ve taken the dozen cannon from the Alamo and set them up in four batteries of three guns each, along the river.” He paused, and pointed to the north of where they were standing, at an earthen embankment a short distance away. “That’s our first one, and it covers the narrow ford from the north.”

  He pointed at another embankment southeast of where they stood, and said, “The second battery covers the ford from the east. These six guns will provide overlapping fields of fire. The other two batteries are emplaced to stop any troops trying to use the island when crossing the river.”

  Will looked at the northern head of the island and asked, “Do we know how deep and wide the channel between the island and our side of the river is?”

  Captain Carey said, “The channel is one hundred feet wide the length of the island. If Santa Anna tried to put his cazadores on the island, that could make things difficult for us. The good news is that the midpoint of the channel is four feet deep or more.”

  Will grimaced at the thought of his men coming under fire from the Mexican skirmishers. “We’ll just have to keep them from doing that. Now how many men do you need on the guns?”

  Carey replied, “That depends on what’s required.” Seeing the confusion on Will’s face, he clarified, “Let’s keep in mind that without solid shot or explosive shells, our artillery are just giant shotguns, sir. I wouldn’t try firing at targets more than a hundred yards away. Almaron and I are of two minds on how to defend the river crossing. First, I am of the opinion that we have a single opportunity to stop an attack. And we’re not likely to get a second chance to fire the cannons. Without solid shot, all we can do is use them for canister. I’m concerned that even with a crew of six men for each gun we’d be pressing them to do more than a round in a minute. If we can get one good volley with them, it may be the best that we can do. It could be different if our crews were well trained, but most of them are doing well to know how to swab the barrel. Now, if this scenario comes to pass, then we really only need two men per cannon on the batteries covering the ford. On the other hand, we can’t predict what the Mexicans are going to do with the island. I would recommend that on batteries covering it, that we assign a full complement of six men per cannon.”

  Will nodded thoughtfully. Carey’s reasoning made sense, but he wanted to hear Captain Dickinson’s thoughts, too. “Almaron, where do you differ with William?”

  Dickinson said, “We can’t know for certain what will happen at the ford. Bill’s right that if we only have one chance, then a full crew of men is wasted. But if things go differently, then a full crew would allow us to keep these guns in action, beyond just a single volley.”

  Even though the two officers were in disagreement on tactics, Will was pleased they were both thinking through their roles in the coming fight. When he thought back on his own previous experience with combat, he knew just how chaotic and fast changing a situation could become. The odds that they could reload their guns on the ford were slim. Will addressed the two artillerists. “Those are both good points. However, I tend to agree with Captain Carey. Captain Dickinson, you’ll be in command of the batteries facing the island, and Carey, you’ll take the other two. I’d suggest that y’all go pick your men.”

  Once the two artillery officers left, he turned to the remaining officers, “Next we need to decide how to deploy our infantry.”

  At that point, Crockett, who had been quietly observing the conversation, interjected, “Colonel Travis, if I might, I’d like to discuss an idea about our infantry. Do we know how many rifles we have? They’ve got a sight longer range than our smoothbore muskets.”

  After several minutes of discussion, they determined that there were approximate 350 rifles among the seven hundred men. The rest were armed with muskets and shotguns. Crockett continued, “Colonel, back when I served under Andy Jackson, you could take three hundred men with muskets, put ‘em in a line and at one hundred yards, maybe twenty or thirty might hit their target, maybe. But I know of riflemen that could knock the flea off a mule’s ass at two hundred yards every time. Imagine if we took our best one hundred twenty riflemen and placed them along the ford here, then take another two men and assign them to each shooter as reloaders. Would you agree that each shooter should be able to fire six aimed shots per minute if he
had two men to reload for him?”

  Will chuckled in appreciation. He’d wondered how best to position his little army at the ford since arriving the previous evening. As an experienced rifleman himself, Will was bemused that he hadn’t thought of this solution himself. “That’s an excellent idea. You figure those men would be able to send over seven hundred aimed shots into a Mexican attack in the first minute?”

  Crockett nodded, “Near ‘nuff. If we can’t put a serious hurt into Santa Anna’s plans, then I’m not Davy Crockett, Lion of the West!” He theatrically puffed out his chest, grabbed his buckskin jacket by the lapels and flashed a toothy grin at the other officers.

  Bowie slapped him on the back, laughing and asked, “You been riding any lightnin’ bolts lately Davy?”

  Crockett ruefully chuckled and grew somber before saying, “I don’t know what I was thinking, letting that damn fool writer, Paulding, take some of my better stories and make that silly play. But that palaver earned me that last term in Congress. I must say I enjoyed tremendously yanking ol’ Andy Jackson’s tail more than once while I was there.”

  “Unless anyone has an objection, once we’re done, Colonel Crockett, why don’t you work with Fannin and Bowie here to find your sharpshooters.”

  Crockett quickly replied, “Oh, Colonel Buck, I’m just a high private. I ain’t been a colonel since my neighbors back in Tennessee elected me. And they only did that because I brought more corn liquor to the muster than the fellow I ran against.”

  Will flashed Crockett a malicious grin and replied, “Does anyone other than Colonel Crockett have any objections?”

  After everyone, including Crockett, laughed at his expense, Will circled back around to their defense. “We’ve assigned fifty men to the artillery and Colonel Crockett’s got another three hundred sixty men. That leaves us with just under three hundred men to assign.” Will turned to Fannin and said, “James, I want you to take your Georgia and Lafayette battalions, less any riflemen, and dig in along the river facing the island. Between Dickinson’s artillery and your infantry, you should be able to deny the Mexicans use of the island.”

  After Fannin acknowledged the order, Will turned to Bowie and Seguin and said, “The two of you, and your men, are our reserve command. Juan, once the action starts, take your company to our southern or left flank and if the Mexicans try to flank us there, stop them. Jim,” Will said to Bowie, “After Crockett gets his riflemen, I want you to take your remaining volunteers to our right flank, and keep the Mexicans from flanking us to our north. Does anyone have any questions?”

  As the other officers left to take care of their responsibilities, Will placed his hand on the Tennessean’s shoulder and said, “Congressman Crockett, I hope you don’t mind the responsibility. I know that you weren’t looking for command. But I also have confidence in your ability, else I’d not ask this.”

  Crockett shrugged his shoulders and smiled wistfully, “Call me David, please. I got no problem leading these boys. But I’m mindful that they’re going to remember me a lot more fondly if they see I’m one of them, not some highfalutin officer, telling them what to do.”

  Will returned the smile, “We all like to be led from the front, I think. Do you reckon that there’s enough cover along our side of the river for your boys to fire from protected positions?”

  Crockett scanned the sides of the road that ended at the river’s edge and replied, “With enough time I can set most of our teams in their own protected shooting blinds.”

  As Crockett walked toward a group of men with hunting rifles, Will strode back toward the encampment, a few hundred feet from the water’s edge and found Bonham resting on the smelly Mexican horse blanket he had taken from Fannin’s headquarters in Refugio.

  “Fancy a little exercise, Jim?” Will asked.

  Bonham rolled over, crinkling his nose at the pungent odor of the blanket and replied, “What have you got in mind, Buck?”

  “Let’s you and me go check out the other side of the river,” Will replied.

  Bonham’s eyes lit up like a firework show as he jumped to his feet, “What are you waiting for?”

  Will went back to the ford, while Bonham saddled his horse. While he waited for his cousin, he watched Crockett work with a team of three men as they arranged a fallen log and scrub brush into a concealed location. Several dozen more teams were collecting brush, branches and whatever driftwood was available into their own hunting blinds. To the south, at the nearest battery he saw Captain Dickinson sighting one of the cannons at a spot in the middle of the river. He smiled. These were good men.

  Bonham trotted up a short while later, armed with his own shotgun, “Shall we go visit old Mexico, Buck?”

  Their horses splashed into the shallows of the ford and they edged them through the frigid, fast flowing water. About midway across the river, Will guessed the water was less than three feet deep. He could see why the Camino Real came this route. Nearing the south bank of the river, the water became shallower until the horses stamped their hooves on dry ground.

  Will noted that the southern bank of the Rio Grande was like the northern, although to him, it seemed like there were more prickly pear cacti growing near the river’s southern edge. Mesquite trees grew next to the cacti lining the road leading away from the river, angling to the southwest. Will leaned over and nudged Bonham, “That’s likely where they’ll be coming. Shall we scout down it a bit?”

  They rode their mounts down the narrow track, where ruts from heavy wagons had scarred the roadbed. At several places branches from mesquite trees edged into the road, causing the two riders to swing wide around the thorny branches. After avoiding a mesquite branch’s sharp thorns, Will looked up and saw in the distance a cloud of dust to their south. He said, “James, look ahead.”

  As Bonham’s eyes followed Will’s finger, to the dust cloud in the distance, Will looked down the winding dirt road and saw a flash of metal in the late morning sun. He pointed it out to Bonham and said, “I guess we know where Santa Anna’s army is. Let’s get on back across the river.”

  They turned to leave, and as their horses started back toward the river, Bonham’s mount stepped into a rut, and stumbled. Will heard a loud snapping sound and watched his cousin react to his horse falling into the road. Bonham leapt free a second before his leg would have been crushed under the fallen animal. He climbed back to his feet, his jacket covered in grayish brown dust. As the horse lay on the road, Will saw the twisted angle of the front right leg, and knew this was bad. Bonham swore until he noticed the leg then swore again as he glanced behind him and saw the glint of sunlight reflecting off an upraised lance. A few hundred yards away, both men could see a couple of Mexican lancers emerge around a bend in the road. “Jim,” Will urged, “take my hand!”

  Bonham looked down at his horse and swore yet again as he worked his shotgun loose from the scabbard, beneath the fallen mount. He took Will’s outstretched arm and flung himself up behind his cousin. As Bonham grabbed him around the waist, Will dug his heels into his horse as they navigated the poorly maintained wagon road. As they hurried back toward to the river the injured horse’s neighing faded away, washed out by the sound of hoofs clattering down the road behind them.

  As he and Bonham emerged from the road, dust billowing behind them, Will guided his horse back into the frigid, flowing river. Behind them he heard shouts and the sound of horses clopping along the road. Will caught the distinct sound of Bonham’s shotgun cocking. He had guided the horse less than a quarter of the way across the river when he chanced a look around and saw two Mexican lancers emerge from the mesquite-lined road behind them. He urged the horse further into the river, and felt Bonham bring the shotgun to his shoulder and involuntarily ducked when he heard the flint strike the firing pan. The gun boomed and he felt Bonham push into him with the gun’s recoil. Will’s ears were ringing; otherwise he would have heard a body splashing into the river.

  As the ringing in his ears faded, Will felt his horse
’s shoes land in the soft dirt on the north bank of the river. After Bonham slid down from behind him he wheeled around and saw the two lancers who had pursued them. One was dismounted, dragging his companion from the water. He watched long enough to see several dozen more lancers spread out along the banks as they flowed from the road. Flashes of sunlight glinted off their shiny metal helmets and the tips of their long, deadly lances.

  The leading elements of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment made a fine spectacle on the south bank of the Rio Grande, in their blue and red uniforms. Several soldiers edged into the water, before being called back by their officers. Will watched an elaborately dressed officer, perhaps the company commander, peering across the river, studying the nearby earthen gun emplacements. He wondered what was going through the mind of the Mexican officer when he realized that any effort to cross the river would only be won with the shedding of blood.

  Chapter 7

  Will stared back at the officer on the opposite bank and wondered what the Mexican officer saw from his view. When he and Bonham returned a few minutes before, they had been preoccupied by what was behind them than by what was in front of them. “What does he think of the two batteries that are visible?” Will asked. Looking around, Will could see telltale signs of several of Crockett’s blinds, but could scarcely imagine what they looked like from the other side of the river.

  Over the next half hour, Will watched from one of the rifle blinds the balance of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment assembled on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande. By walking along behind the rifle blinds, he found Crockett with a couple of other riflemen. He slid down next to Crockett behind the fallen log and said, “You ready, David?”

  Crockett kept his eyes focused across the river, “Near ‘nuff, Colonel Buck. Do wish that whoever put this road here had chosen a wider section of the river. Heard tell it was a mile wide and foot deep. Somebody’s been telling tales out of school ‘bout this river.” Will chuckled at Crockett’s witty reply, until he continued, “Those lancers are outside of effective musket range, but at two hundred yards, well, we could stop with them with our rifles from sitting there pretty on their horses, if you wanted.”

 

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