by Drew McGunn
Spirit Talker neither glared nor laughed, although his lips curled up at the translation. With the sound of joints popping, he stood and said, “The People do not change quickly or easily. I think that you, Raven, adopted by the Cherokee, would understand that. Yet, it has become impossible to ignore that you Texians are like the flood after a spring rain. You wash over the land and change it. Even since the last winter, we are fewer in number than we were. You are more. I speak only for my band. I see you have the power to attack us whenever we attack you. And when you attack, you kill many of the People. Your guns which speak many times makes sure of that. Maybe it is time the People and Texas no longer wage war against each other. But we need the buffalo.”
Houston had returned to his seat, and Crockett now stood. “Peace starts with the release of all prisoners. We will agree to release all the Comanche we have captured, if every band agree to release all whites and Mexicans you have captured or adopted.”
Crockett’s words elicited consternation among the chiefs. Buffalo Hump stood and explained, “Many among the People who were once white or Mexican do not want to leave the People.”
From his seat, Houston burst out into laughter. “I can relate to that. I ran away when I was sixteen years old. Those years among the Cherokee were some of the best of my life.” But he grew serious. “However, as our president has said, this is a requirement. If those who you adopted wish to return to live among your people, then we will not stop it, when they are counted as adults among our people. Our laws do not recognize a child’s right to make such a decision.
Will watched the chiefs as they listened and then discussed the matter among themselves. It struck him, each of these were intelligent men. Some of the concepts about which Houston talked were odd to them, such as the legal rights of children. But even so, they talked among themselves, sometimes amiably and at other times, contentiously. But in the end, all the chiefs reached consensus. Both sides would trade back all prisoners and adopted children. Neither side would take as slaves those from the other side.
After both sides had agreed to the prisoner swap, the issue of land remained. As the sun dipped below the western horizon, Spirit Talked said, “I fear the easy part is now behind us. I can’t argue we use more than just the buffalo,” he fingered his cotton shirt’s embroidery as he spoke, “but we need the buffalo to survive.”
The other chiefs nodded their heads in agreement. “We have decided, we agree the land below the river of the red clay flies your flag. But, the buffalo do not know your flag or our shield. They go where the Great Spirt leads. They are our life, to keep us from them is to hold a knife to our throats.”
Crockett said, “It isn’t our wish to see the Comanche no longer riding the great plains or no longer hunting the buffalo.”
He turned to Will and Houston and asked, “What if we allow them to hunt below the Red River, but to limit their villages to north of the Red River? They can still hunt the buffalo, but their towns stay north.”
Will and Houston readily agreed. Such a treaty could buy Texas twenty or more years before the issue resurfaced. A lot could change in that length of time.
Crockett turned back to Spirit Talker. “Your hunting bands can travel below the Red River, following the buffalo. But your villages must stay north of the river. If any of your warriors attack any Texian farm below the Red River, then the warrior’s band will be required by this treaty to turn him over to Texas for justice.”
While there was unhappy muttering among the chiefs, Spirit Talker said, “It is good to respect each other. The People will agree to this, provided the same rule applies to Whites or Mexicans who attack us north of the river of the red clay. If you agree to surrender to us any who attack our villages, then we can have peace.”
Crockett looked to Will and Houston and saw agreement on their faces. “We agree.”
Will shuddered at the thought of Comanche justice, but the alternative was worse. When he considered the attack more than year before at Fort Parker, the alternative was far worse.
As the meeting broke up around midnight, Will walked with Crockett back to the fort. The president confessed, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to force that last provision through the Senate, when they ratify the treaty. We have a mite different idea about justice than they do. But it’s a fair deal to both sides.”
Will agreed. “David, if the Senate ratifies this, I think we could see peace for a generation with the Comanche. The challenge for the future comes back to the issue of land. Our view of land ownership is alien to the Comanche, far more so than how the Cherokee see private property rights. Unless they change, as we grow, eventually we’re going to come into conflict with them again.”
Crockett said, “Maybe even sooner than that. The Comanche don’t have a clue about the Adams-Onis Treaty. Steve Austin has notified the Van Buren administration we have agreed with the terms of the treaty, as it defines our national boundary with the United States. Somehow or another, men like Spirit Talker and Buffalo Hump will have to understand the world around them is changing. If they raid into the US, they may find that The United States will give them less of a fair shake than we have.”
Chapter 15
The road from San Antonio to Harrisburg remained rough and uneven between the two population centers. But Will found the ride relatively smooth, as he sat opposite Erasmo Seguin in a plush carriage. The coiled springs under the carriage absorbed the worst of the jostling as the iron rimmed wheels dropped into the poorly maintained road’s potholes. He had been summoned to Harrisburg along with Señor Seguin to meet with President Crockett.
“Are you sure you don’t know why the president has summoned us, Señor Seguin?”
The elder Seguin exhaled noisily. “General, for the last three days, you have plied me with the same question. I am as much in the dark as you about why President Crockett has summoned us.”
As the weak, December sun retreated across the western sky, the carriage rolled through the rapidly expanding warehouse district which ran alongside Buffalo Bayou. As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the town’s only hotel, Erasmo and Will alighted from it and walked into the ramshackle building.
The next morning, the two men met with President Crockett in the log cabin which served as both his residence and office. Since Will’s last visit, another room had been added, accessible through an open-air dogtrot. As Will and Señor Seguin joined Crockett around the familiar large table which sat in the middle of Crockett’s office, a young woman came through the door with a wooden pitcher in hand. As she set the pitcher on the table, she produced a few battered tin cups from her apron and placed them next to the pitcher.
Since the arrival of Crockett’s family earlier in the year, this was Will’s first opportunity to see the young woman the president affectionately called “my Becky.” Her face was thin and angular. Like her father, her eyes were blue and her hair the color of roasted coffee beans. There was no doubt in Will’s mind as to why Crockett had been turning away suitors. The president’s daughter’s slight frame and pretty face caught Will’s attention. In a town, like Harrisburg, with far more eligible bachelors than available single women, Will thought Becky Crockett could have the pick of any of them.
As she turned to leave, Will’s eyes followed her to the door. When she stepped through, she looked back, and saw Will staring at her. As she closed the door, the last image Will had was a smile on her face.
Crockett cleared his throat. “Ah hem. Buck, you know, she’ll be at the Christmas party at the Liberty Hotel tomorrow evening. You might consider staying for a couple of days before returning to San Antone.”
Will’s cheeks colored when he realized his interest had not gone unnoticed. “A party? I, uh, don’t know. Señor Seguin was kind enough to provide his carriage for our trip here. If he needs to get back to his affairs, I may not be able.”
The elder Seguin enjoyed watching Will’s discomfiture. “I’m sure my business interests will wait a fe
w days. My Josie would not forgive me if I didn’t bring back a detailed account of what the ladies of Harrisburg are wearing at such festivities.” He paused, savoring the awkward look on Will’s face, before turning serious. “My business interests, or rather the Republic’s interests are what you wanted to talk about, Mr. President.”
The levity forgotten, Crockett said, “Señor Seguin, between your reports and those from our soldiers stationed at Fort Moses Austin, near Laredo, I have concerns over the allegiance of some of the Mexicans who’ve been coming into Texas.”
“I wasn’t aware my reports would be of concern, Mr. President.”
Crockett pushed a few pages toward the elder Seguin. “Your reports are focused mainly on the Bexar district, and I don’t know that there’s a direct threat from Mexico as far as the folks coming across the Rio Grande. But as these other reports indicate, we have some evidence Mexico’s got agents in Laredo and possibly in other towns in Texas. As a best guess, over the past two years nearly two thousand people have crossed the Rio Grande into Texas. That’s an awful lot of opportunity.”
Crockett continued, with a report from the Rangers. “I’m a bit concerned there has been an effort to have an election in Laredo, where they want to vote on returning the town to Mexico.”
Seguin’s eyes arched in surprise. “I hadn’t heard of that.”
Crockett nodded, “Given our presence nearby at Fort Moses Austin, several families, if I have heard correctly, have moved back across the river. They’ve taken to calling the town on the southern bank, Nuevo Laredo.”
Listening to Crockett and Erasmo Seguin talk, Will was puzzled, “David, does it bother you they are moving back into Mexico?”
Crockett smiled wryly. “Only my ego, Buck. Apart from that, no. If they don’t see themselves as Tejano, then let them live in Mexico. I’d far rather our Tejano community be loyal to Texas, and it’s a good bet, those who relocate themselves south probably aren’t going to share that loyalty.”
Seguin shook his head. “I pride myself on keeping a close eye on things within my community and my information from Laredo is sparse. I will ask my son-in-law, Jose, to go down Laredo way and see what he can learn about the latest Mexican government trying to stir things up, Mr. President.”
Crockett smiled widely at the older Tejano. “Erasmo, please my friends call me David. And between the three of us, I’d just as soon set aside titles.”
Erasmo smiled in return as Crockett set the reports from Laredo to the side. “I can scarce wait to see what your son-in-law finds out. The other reason I wanted to meet was to discuss the status of the Commodities Bureau.”
Seguin’s smile faded. “And here I thought it was going to be all fun, Mr. ah, David.”
Crockett said, “I confess, the reason I asked Will to join is for two reasons. Most of the money we raise flows into paying for our army and navy. The second is, he’s pretty good with figures, and this was his idea.”
Will and Erasmo had spent much of the three days on the road discussing this very subject. Since the elder Seguin’s appointment as chairman of the Commodities Bureau, he had taken to the task like a fish to water. The bureau’s cotton-backs had been circulating for most of the year. With the fall crops harvested, property taxes had been largely paid in one of the fifteen commodities which made up the basket of commodities on which the currency was based. Additionally, the Texas Land Office’s bank had also received loan repayments in commodities when the farmers or ranchers were unable to pay with gold or silver.
Seguin said, “Between all of the commodities which have passed through the bureau, we have issued more than half a million dollars in commodities certificates in 1837. Although we’re still a few weeks away from the new year, we anticipate doubling the number of certificates in circulation next year.”
Crockett was scratching his chin, reviewing a ledger full of figures. “But, we only took in around quarter million dollars in taxes and loan repayments from people. Where did the other quarter million come from?”
“Gold and silver payments from the tariff and gifts and loans from the United States. Even now, eighteen months since the end of the Revolution, we’ve still received aid from quite a few folks in the United States.”
Crockett chuckled. “You’re not joking. I received a draft drawn from a bank in Philadelphia from a group called “Philadelphians for Texas Independence” in the amount of ten thousand dollars. It was accompanied by a letter from none other than Henry Clay.”
Will was astonished. “What would the Senator from Kentucky want with Texas?”
Crockett replied, “Henry has ambitions for the presidency. If fools like Collinsworth and Potter keep yammering for annexation, and feeding Southern Democrats’ thirst for another slave state, there are going to be northern and western interests, led by men like Henry and other Whigs who want to limit the power of Southern Democrats. This little gift is just his way of telling me to stay the course. Now back to the Commodities Bureau. Erasmo, what are your people thinking about 1838? Do they really expect to issue a million dollars in cotton-backs?”
“The short answer is yes,” Seguin said, “The longer answer requires we look at the sources of revenue we expect to receive next year. So much of the land granted under the impresario system is still a mess. In my discussions with your secretary of Treasury, neither of us expect to see more than forty thousand dollars in revenue from real estate taxes. But the opposite is true regarding the Texas Land Bank’s loan repayments. We expect to receive more than a hundred and fifty thousand from loan repayments alone. Nearly all of these are paid by commodities. Our bureau sells some of the commodities within the Republic; some, like payments in grain, get transferred to the military, but most gets sold in the United States or Europe. For example, our tax on physical property, which includes Lumber and Grist mills as well as slaves, brought in nearly a hundred and seventy thousand dollars this year. Nearly all of that was paid for with commodities. Cotton, specifically. There were plenty of buyers for that, all of them with gold and silver in hand.”
Seguin’s command of the figures made Crockett’s eyes glaze over. “So, in short, what’s it mean for next year, Erasmo?”
“Excluding loans or gifts from abroad, we should raise around half a million dollars in taxes and fees.”
Crockett grunted. “That’s still going to mean a lot of loans from banks in the United States and Europe.”
Seguin nodded. “If Michel Menard in our Treasure department is correct, we’ll probably need more than seven hundred thousand dollars in loans.”
Crockett groaned. “That’s not a number I’m going to dangle in front of Congress. They’ll give off a stink like the polecats they are.”
Seguin gave a half-hearted smile. “Look at the bright side. If our growth continues, we expect to reduce new loans to less than ten percent of the budget by 1842.”
Crockett crossed his arms on the table and lay his head on them and complained, “Great. We fix the budget, but the next president gets the credit. Where’s the justice in that?”
***
The next evening, what passed for the hotel’s dining room was bedecked with festive bunting and candles. Trestle tables lined one of the walls, piled high with food. It seemed as though most of the government of Texas was assembled in the room. The wives of those who were married, were resplendent in a rainbow of reds, greens, and blues. The finest fashions available in the stores of New Orleans were on display.
As Will joined the Christmas celebration, he tugged at the hem of his dress uniform. it was a frock length jacket several shades darker brown than his fatigue jacket’s standard butternut hue. When he entered the room, most eyes followed him as he made his way to where President Crockett and his wife and daughter greeted those arriving. Gone was the homespun hunting jacket, and in its place, the president wore a black dress jacket and matching cravat. His waist coat was black satin, contrasting sharply against the white silk shirt he wore.
As Wi
ll proffered his hand, Crockett looked a little sheepish. As they shook, Crockett leaned in. “My Liza insisted we all dress for the occasion. When a woman gets an idea in her head, it might as well be set in stone.”
To his left, his wife looked over sharply. Her sigh was one of someone used to hearing Crockett’s sharp wit. “And well we do, otherwise you men would be completely uncivilized. When we were younger, back in Tennessee, David would rather have been bear hunting than socializing. He’s traded his bears for politicians. I’ve yet to figure out how to serve one up so as you’d want a helping.” She smiled warmly at Will as she continued, “General Travis, it is a pleasure to finally meet you someplace other than my husband’s cluttered office.”
Will took her white gloved hand and brushed his lips against the silk material. The first lady was several inches shorter than her husband, but was still a tall woman. Her thin frame would have been considered frail, except for a sturdiness she wore like an armor. A life spent on the frontier, suffering through years of Crockett’s wanderlust, had hardened her to the difficulties of privation and want. Had Will not already met her at the cabin the Crocketts called home, he would have thought her underdressed in the simple blue satin dress she wore. But he decided it suited her demeanor.
Will’s eyes lit up as he stepped to Mrs. Crockett’s left and stood before Rebecca Crockett. The nineteen-year-old woman smiled shyly and curtsied in her green gown. Will found his voice and asked, “If I may, would you consent to dance with me this evening?”
Rebecca’s cheeks colored as she covered her mouth with her hand. “General Travis, I’d be honored to give you the first dance.”
As Will stepped away from the first family of Texas, Crockett detached himself and stepped over to him. “Before things get away from us, I want to introduce you to a man who has set up a hospital here over in Houston.”