In Harm's Way

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In Harm's Way Page 24

by Drew McGunn


  Once Will had decided Ellis must be stopped, and he came to accept he was the best man to make that happen, he considered men he knew well in addition to men he knew only by reputation. He knew enough of twentieth- and twenty-first-century politics to know a vice president needed to add something or create a balance in a presidential ticket. Will felt confident he could sell himself to Texas’ immigrant communities as well as appealing to thousands of people who had come from the North over the past decade. Given Texas’ recent conflict with Mexico, he feared many of the folks who had their citizenship forcibly changed from Mexican to Texian in the former New Mexico territory would sit out the election.

  Seguin could appeal to those voters in a way Will never could. “And,” he thought, “it doesn’t hurt that he’s a damned fine friend.”

  Getting Seguin to resign from the army had proved easier than he had expected. Since Erasmo’s death, Juan had been forced to spend more time on the family ranch, taking more time away from his post at the Alamo than he wanted. When Will came calling, the Tejano listened to his pitch and then resigned within a week. Since then, Seguin traveled to Santa Fe and Albuquerque where he had campaigned for the newly minted citizens’ vote.

  Will used a handkerchief to battle the sweat pouring down his face. From somewhere in the crowd, he heard a voice, “Ellis must go!”

  Another called out, “Down with Ellis! Restore the navy!”

  Will winced at the last comment. Ellis had forced the navy to mothball three warships. This left only two warships for the entire Gulf of Mexico and two for California.

  A church bell chimed, announcing to the crowd it was noon. Will stood and approached the podium. As he gripped it with his hands, another voice could be heard as the applause died. “You’re trying to destroy our institutions, you nigger-lover!”

  People in the crowd turned on the hapless heckler, and Will could see him beating a hasty retreat.

  “Folks, thanks for coming out on such a hot day. Days like today make me think that if the devil had the choice between hell and Texas, he’d rent out Texas and live in hell,” Will warmed to the laughter of the audience. “In eight days, you’ll go vote in the third presidential election since we won our independence and, when you do, you have the chance to decide on the kind of Texas you’ll hand to your children.”

  He wiped at his forehead as he continued, “In all my years in Texas, there has never been a choice as stark as the one you face today. You can vote for Richard Ellis, and he will try again to suture us to the United States, like some kind of political Frankenstein.”

  Will wasn’t sure if the allusion to Mary Shelley’s book had an audience in Texas, but as he watched the crowd, the remark found its target, as heads bobbed in agreement.

  “The President will continue to weaken us, as he prays for a Southern Democrat to sit in the White House. He’ll allow our army to wither away on the vine and for our navy to rot in port, convinced a weak nation will have no choice but to seek protection under the American eagle. Under Ellis, cities like Galveston are nothing more than waypoints for the plantation economy, like feudal lords of old, to ship their cotton to world markets. Industry, merchants, and businessmen have no place other than to offer their wares to rich planters and to do as they’re told.”

  The cries of “No,” from the audience fueled Will’s passion as he continued. “Under Ellis, Galveston will become be a tiny port amid a nation with many larger ports. He’ll happily watch trade languish here as long as his planter friends can build bigger plantations and import more slaves.”

  Then, more like a mob than a political rally, the crowd began chanting, “Down with Ellis!”

  Will let them chant, as he swept his gaze over the crowd, confident he wasn’t losing control of his audience. He finally raised his hands and waited for the Galvestonians to quiet down. “That’s Richard Ellis’ vision for Texas. Now, let me tell you about mine. In the Texas that I know and love, a man’s worth is measured by the contribution he can make to his family, community, and nation, not by the number of slaves harvesting cotton under the hot autumn sun, while he sits in his mansion sipping mint juleps. The Texas I love is a strong nation with a strong army and navy, able to deter Mexico from getting uppity. The Texas that I love is a beautiful mosaic, made up of folks who fled their places of birth, looking for a fresh start. Whether you came from Tennessee or New York, Dublin or Belfast, Bremen or Copenhagen, or San Antonio or Vera Cruz, you all came for a better future.

  “The Galveston I know and love is the gateway to a healthy and vibrant Republic. Galveston is the jewel of the gulf. If you trust me with the presidency, I will pursue domestic industry, exported through this fine port, reasonable tariffs that provide for our common defense, and better charts of the bay so that captains can rely on our charts to sail their ships safe into port.

  “The Texas that I love knows that slavery devalues the labor of all men. My opponent would have you believe that you can’t get the genie back in the bottle, but my friends, we can create a vibrant economy of free labor and let the South’s peculiar institution die of old age. As I have said before, as president I’ll lead Congress to pass a free birth law, that everybody born in Texas after eighteen fifty will be born free, no exceptions! And there’ll be no more slaves brought into Texas after that date. If you send me to Austin to do the people’s business, my priority will be to provide every Texian the opportunity to prosper by their own hands, whether they be farmers, machinists, merchants, or laborers. You and me, together, we’ll create a golden age of prosperity for Texas!”

  Will ignored the sweat pouring down his face as the crowd cheered. He hoped there were more folks like the sea of faces before him. He’d need them to offset the tens of thousands of transplanted Southerners Ellis was courting.

  ***

  11 September 1848

  Samuel Williams helped his wife onto the porch of the Liberty Hotel. Light spilled into the night, illuminating their steps. “Oh, Sam, General Travis has gone all out tonight.”

  “Buck isn’t one for all this show, but Señor Garza loves to put on a display. Heaven knows how much money he spent to help Buck’s campaign, but win or lose, tonight’s party is just a drop in the bucket.” Sam had a fair idea the amount Garza had funded had exceeded ten thousand dollars. His own pocketbook was lighter by a similar amount.

  As they stepped into the hotel’s lobby, it was nearly bright as day; Lamps chased shadows away revealing wooden paneling hung with paintings of the late Mexican War. Sarah cried, “I’ve heard of this one,” she pointed to a piece of art depicting Mexican soldados swarming up a Texian redoubt. A brass plate below the picture read Defense of the Cherokee Rifles. To Sam, it seemed the artist had taken liberties with the defenders’ uniforms. The Cherokee had worn the same butternut uniforms like the rest of the army, yet in the painting, they were adorned in the traditional Cherokee garb.

  “You’ve got to commission one of Mr. Wright’s paintings. They’re so patriotic.”

  Sam found himself agreeing the art was patriotic if a bit melodramatic.

  A voice from behind caught him off guard, “Sam, you shouldn’t have.”

  He turned and saw Buck standing in the doorway to the hotel’s ballroom. “And miss the celebration? All of Texas is waiting to find out how bad you’ll trounce Ellis.

  The former general took his wife’s hand and kissed it, “Mrs. Williams, as always a pleasure. Becky is simply dying for more civilized company than a bunch of men poring over telegrams.”

  Sam waited until his wife, Sarah, hurried away before saying, “What’s the latest?”

  Travis pointed to a slate board someone had borrowed from West Liberty’s schoolhouse. “All the vote has been counted in east Texas and along the gulf coast. Everything Between Laredo and Austin has reported in. We’re still waiting for the northeastern portion to report and also the area in the Rio Grande district.”

  Sam walked over to the blackboard. Close to seventy thousand votes
had already been counted. Ellis led by a few hundred votes. “Any idea how the Red River area will vote?”

  Travis said, “Best case, we’ll match Ellis’ vote in the area. Lots of folks from Tennessee and Arkansas have settled there over the past few years.”

  Sam raised his eyebrows, “I didn’t think there was much plantation farming that far north.”

  “There’s not. But those folks reckon the best way to get ahead is to save up and buy a slave. With any luck, the towns settled by the civilized tribes will break our way, and enough Irish and Germans are living in the area to give me hope we won’t slide further behind.”

  Sam noticed at the bottom of the board a large blank spot next to the words Rio Grande district. “So it all depends on a bunch of former Mexican citizens in Santa Fe?”

  Travis motioned him to join him at a bar, where a bartender served up a couple of shot glasses. “Pretty much. The ten-dollar question is will they see their interests best served by being annexed by the US or by making the best of Texas’ annexation of their territory.”

  Sam took a sip, pursed his lips as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down. “What a bargain. They get to choose between the devil they know or the devil they don’t know.”

  Travis chuckled. “That’s exactly what I told Juan before I asked him to spend a bit of time campaigning out there.”

  They turned toward a ruckus coming from the lobby. A young man wearing the peaked hat of the telegraph office held up a telegram, “From Austin, more results are in!”

  Sam watched Travis hurry through the packed room and take the telegram. After opening the note, he called out, “Bowie, Red River, and Harrison counties are in.”

  He wrote the results on the board. Sam shook his head, discouraged. More than three thousand new votes and Ellis extended his lead by more than a hundred. When Travis joined him at the bar, he took a bottle from the bartender and filled both their glasses again, “What do you think happened, Buck? I thought you might regain some votes.”

  With a shrug, Will took a sip. “Harrison County is on the Sabine River. Lots of prime land has been picked up by planters. I imagine they made me out to be Beelzebub in the flesh.”

  Sam said, “Someone might think you intend to upend their applecart. I’ve read what the pro-Ellis newspapers have said. They claim you’ll try to free their slaves and destroy their livelihood.”

  Travis grimaced. “We’ve been over this before, Sam. Any system built on one man owning another deserves to collapse. It’s a cancer in our nation. But I know the difference between what I’d like to do and what I can get away with doing, provided Juan and I do better with the folks in Santa Fe.”

  There was a lull as the two men nursed their drinks. Into that Travis said, “What about you, Sam. You still have those two slaves?”

  Sam laughed into his glass, haunted by the answer. “Probably until they die, Buck. Billy’s getting pretty long in the tooth. He’s almost seventy now. He can’t do much anymore. To borrow one of your expressions, I’m his pension plan. I don’t know what I’m going to do about Chastity. She has been a tremendous help to Sarah with the children and the housework. We’ve been partners long enough that you’ve reminded this Rhode Island-born man that my views on slavery should evolve again. Enough so that I’ve taken to giving Chastity a small salary. It assuages my conscience a bit.”

  Sam averted his eyes, embarrassed. Chastity was barren, unable to have children. Neither Freedman nor slave were uncommon on Galveston Island, and the few black suitors who made their way to the Williams homestead beat a hasty retreat once they learned of her condition.

  Sam breathed a sigh of relief when Will changed the subject. “Did I tell you that Sid Johnston has set up a relay along the military road between Santa Fe and San Antonio. He’s spread our cavalry out along the entire route, a few men every fifteen or twenty miles, upwards of fifty stations. Once the vote totals are confirmed by the election judges in Santa Fe, a rider will race back along the road, trading his mount at every station. Every few stations a new rider will take over. Only four days are necessary for the results from the Rio Grande district to reach San Antonio, and then from there, they’ll be telegraphed to the rest of the country in just a few minutes.”

  Sam said, “Makes you wish we had pushed the telegraph further west. But I can think of better uses of two hundred thousand dollars to run nine hundred miles of cable.”

  Travis looked at the blackboard, “Right now I can’t. It’s been four days since the election. We should have the results by now.”

  Sam looked through the hotel’s plate-glass window, light spilled onto the sidewalk and attempted to pierce the darkness on the street. The courier who had delivered the earlier results was racing along the sidewalk.

  The young man burst into the ballroom, waving the sheet of paper in excitement. “The results from the Rio Grande district are in!”

  Travis took the folded piece of paper. Sam watched his business partner’s hands quiver as he opened the telegram. Seconds dragged by as the former general digested the results. The room was silent as every set of eyes focused on Buck Travis.

  After what seemed an eternity, Travis said, “The results for the Rio Grande district are eleven hundred and forty votes for President Ellis.”

  Sam looked at the tally on the blackboard and mentally adjusted the president’s tally upward. His friend needed nearly two thousand votes to win.

  Travis continued, “Thirty-two hundred and twelve votes for me!”

  The men in the room erupted into cheers and applause. William Barret Travis had won the presidential election of 1848.

  ***

  From the Telegraph and Texas Register

  12th September 1848

  We are able to assure our readers that the hero of the Revolution and former general of the Texian army, William B. Travis will succeed Richard Ellis as the 4th president of our fair nation. While a few hundred votes are still traveling by mule somewhere between Los Angeles and Santa Fe, General Travis’s margin of victory is sufficient to call the election in his favor.

  The republic’s election commission in Austin estimates more than 80,000 votes were cast in the election. President-elect Travis was awarded 41,042 votes while President Ellis captured 39,844. Based on the voter rolls in Texian California, this publisher of record estimates no more than 500 ballots remain outstanding.

  Colonel Juan Seguin has secured the nomination as vice president. Messrs. Travis and Seguin will be sworn in on the 23rd October, commencing their six-year term of office.

  Chapter 26

  Early December 1849

  “What a strange custom, putting a tree in the house at Christmastime.” Will laughed as Becky stepped back from hanging a tiny wooden manger on one of the branches.

  He said, “It’s a tradition in our German community, and becoming more popular across Texas.” He picked six-year-old David up and let the boy hang another ornament on the tree. “This evening, there’ll be a reporter from the San Antonio Zeitung here for an interview following my speech to Congress, and I thought this touch of home would put him at ease.”

  Becky pouted, “I don’t see why you have to give a speech before Congress on the state of the country. Pa and Lorenzo sent letters. That would be easier.”

  Before the transference, Will had hated even the thought of public speaking, but starting with his days during the revolution and later commanding the army, he’d grown accustomed to speaking in front of his soldiers. But after campaigning against the annexation vote, it had become old hat. He still didn’t like the butterflies in his stomach before a speech, but he could deal with it.

  “It’s a bit like this Christmas tree. We’re a young republic, and we need our own traditions. This speech before Congress is a tradition I’d like to start. I want to remind people where we’ve come from and share my vision for where we’re going.”

  Becky leaned over and helped Liza attach a small wire hook to a painted blown-glass bulb
. “Go practice your speech, me and the kids will finish the tree.”

  A short while later, Will and his family crossed Congress Avenue from the hacienda-style president’s mansion to the Capitol Building. Seats had been set up in the gallery for his family at the back of the House of Representatives, and Will took a place next to the Speaker of the House and the President of the Senate, waiting for the hall to fill up with more than a hundred and forty members of both houses of Congress.

  After the Speaker of the House opened the joint session of Congress, Will stood behind the podium and looked out across the room. Factions had been part of Texas’ Congress since the beginning, but now they were more pronounced. The Democrats, taking their name from their American counterparts sat on one side of the hall, while the Republicans sat on the other. Will had considered other names for the Republicans, but given Texas’ status as a republic, the name had stuck.

  “Friends and fellow Texians, I am honored to stand before you this evening and fulfill my constitutional duty to provide a state of the republic to Congress. It isn’t lost on me that the last time both houses of Congress were in joint session was seven years ago when David Crockett asked you for a declaration of war against Mexico. I’m happy our circumstances are far removed from that now.”

  Some in the hall seemed to hang on his every word while others appeared disinterested. “Over the past fifteen months, the government has strengthened our security by expanding our military, on both land and at sea. We have three battalions of infantry and another of cavalry and artillery as well as our frontier battalion of Rangers. We have ensured they have adequate support by expanding our quartermasters’ corps and corps of engineers. We have reclaimed status as the most powerful squadron in the Gulf of Mexico by expanding to five ships. We have maintained our two-ship squadron on the Pacific Ocean. Over the next two years, we will expand our combined fleet to ten ships.”

  Aside from the Ellis era, the military had been something to unite the nation and as Will finished outlining the state of the military throughout the room men stood and applauded. He was gratified to see men from both factions standing.

 

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