Texas Rising

by Stephen L. Moore

  Several other soldiers proceeded to clear their muskets until the general drew his sword and threatened to run through the next man who fired his gun. Many of the soldiers griped aloud that they could not go into battle with wet weapons that had not been freshly loaded in many cases for at least two weeks. Another musket roared in defiance of Houston, at which point he gave up his threat. His ragged volunteer army was primed for the fight, and he realized there was little he could do to control them.21

  Around 10 A.M., Houston had his men move into a small grove of live oak trees near the elevated banks of Buffalo Bayou, along with their Twin Sisters artillery. The position offered perfect cover to await the advancement of Santa Anna’s troops across the grassy half-mile-wide prairie that lay ahead. Buffalo Bayou skirted along the northern boundary of this field and fell away to the southeast as it ran into the San Jacinto River just above Lynch’s Ferry. The eastern boundary of the field was San Jacinto Bay, which flowed down toward Galveston Bay. Several significant bodies of water lay along the eastern edges of the field, including Peggy’s Lake—large enough to look like a bay itself. Thick groves of trees and coastal marshes pocketed the fringes of this massive point of land that Houston’s men now surveyed.22

  Houston had his men turn the horses and oxen loose to graze while his scouts went out for more intelligence. Nine new volunteers presented themselves at General Houston’s newly erected command tent during the late morning. They had rowed an eight-oar cutter across Galveston Bay and reported in to the army at its place of concealment in the timber a half mile below Lynch’s Ferry. One of these volunteers, Captain Benjamin Cromwell Franklin, later documented the vivid scene of the army of irregulars he was now joining. “Around some twenty or thirty campfires stood as many groups of men, English, Irish, Scotch, French, Germans, Italians, Poles, Yankees, Mexicans, all unwashed, unshaven for months, their long hair, beard and mustaches, ragged and matted, their clothes in tatters, and plastered with mud. In a word, a more savage band could scarcely have been assembled; and yet many—most indeed, were gentlemen, owners of large estates, distinguished some for oratory, some for science, and some for medical talent.”23

  Houston kept a scouting patrol of six soldiers under Colonel Robert Coleman posted to watch Lynch’s Ferry. During the late morning, his party fired upon and captured a small ferry flatboat that was moving up Buffalo Bayou. Several of Coleman’s men swam over and commandeered the supply boat after the Mexican soldiers dived overboard. They found it loaded with flour, coffee, meal, salt, and other goods stolen from Colonel Morgan’s New Washington warehouse with the intent of sailing the goods along the bayou to Santa Anna’s troops. Coleman’s scouts sailed the little flatboat to a convenient landing place near Houston’s new camp. The Texians were elated to have barrels of flour to make dough for bread. “We feasted that day,” said Private Alfonso Steele.24

  SANTA ANNA WONDERED JUST how many troops old Sam had brought to the McCormick ranch to fight him. He decided to probe the Texian forces hiding in the woods near Buffalo Bayou to determine their number.

  He ordered the Toluca company to move forward as skirmishers to draw out the rebels. Santa Anna had his musicians play the dark degüello music that had been used by his army in March when the Alamo was overrun. The message was clear to those who understood: no quarter would be offered for traitors to the Mexican government. They would be laid to waste just as El Presidente’s troops had done with the Alamo and La Bahía defenders.25

  It was 11:30 A.M. on April 20, 1836.

  Sam Houston was cautious not to tip his hand as Santa Anna tried to call him out. He ordered his men to lie down in the tall grass to conceal their numbers, and he ordered the Twin Sisters to remain tucked into the tree line. The only sound was the ever-increasing blare of the Mexican trumpets as they moved forward. Houston glanced over to where Lieutenant Colonel James Neill stood by with his two artillery teams, commanded by Captains Isaac Moreland and George Poe.

  Houston called over to his friend, “Moreland, are you ready?”

  Moreland informed the general that the range was still too far. Each six-pound cannon was managed by a team of three gunners plus their team of assistants who would sponge, ram, point, and haul the cannon into firing position.

  Houston had waited long enough. He did not even give his comrade’s team time enough to properly lower their cannon’s elevation.

  “Clear the guns and fire!” Houston barked.

  The Twin Sisters roared to life with ear-ringing blasts that spit fire from each barrel and shook the ground beneath the gunners’ feet. Neither American-made artillery piece had even been test-fired due to a scarcity of cannonballs. Their aim mattered little. The sudden roar of an unseen cannon from the edge of the woods scared the hell out of the advancing Mexican cavalrymen—even if the first shot by the Texans was too high.26

  The Mexican cavalrymen retreated back across the open prairie. General Santa Anna accepted the challenge from Houston and soon had his artillerymen roll their own cannon out into the open field. A thick little island of oak trees stood roughly 150 yards from the thicket where the Texas rebels were hiding. Captain Fernando Urriza’s artillerymen towed their much larger, nine-pound brass Golden Standard piece to this spot. Once positioned, the Mexican cannon erupted with a roar. Deadly grapeshot whistled through the tree limbs above the Texians’ heads, raining leaves and limbs down on them. The heavy iron balls splashed harmlessly in Buffalo Bayou and on the opposite bank.

  General Houston then ordered his cannon advanced. Lieutenant Colonel Neill’s artillerymen rolled the two little Texas pieces forward ten paces onto the prairie and commenced firing. One of their early shots killed two pack mules harnessed to the Golden Standard, splintered the Mexicans’ ammunition box, severely wounded Captain Urriza, and killed his horse. Both sides continued trading rounds of canister and grape for a good half hour. The Mexican artillerymen achieved their own destructive round by knocking out former Alamo commander James Neill, his hip shattered by grapeshot.27

  Sam Houston held his cavalry and infantrymen in check while the two sides slugged it out with their fieldpieces. He finally gave the nod to Sidney Sherman to lead half of his mounted men toward the island of timber in the center of the prairie to take command of that vantage point. Upon charging into the little thicket, however, they were badly surprised to find a huge number of Mexican infantrymen waiting for them. Sherman immediately yelled at his men to retreat, but several of their horses were killed in the process. Houston allowed about fifty of his best sharpshooters to move forward and fire one round with their long rifles to support the retreat of the cavalrymen. Captains Poe and Moreland turned the Twin Sisters toward this thicket of woods and fired. The splintering of trees above the heads of the Mexican infantrymen was enough to force them into their own hasty retreat.28

  The Golden Standard team rolled their cannon from its advanced position back into the little thicket at this point. The action began to dwindle as Sherman’s cavalry reached safety. Santa Anna’s men fell back around 3 P.M., three and a half hours after the action had commenced on the McCormick ranch. Sam Houston chalked up round one to the Texans, estimating that his men had inflicted eighteen to twenty casualties. In return, only two Texans had been injured: Neill and Private Thomas C. Utley, the latter hit in the left arm by a round of grapeshot.29

  The Texas Army paused to take lunch, baking bread from the captured flour. George Erath and others made the flour into dough and wound it around a stick with a chunk of beef on top before roasting their concoction over campfires. As hunger pains were subdued, the inevitable griping resumed that General Houston still did not intend to fight the Mexican Army. “By his long retreat, Houston had made himself extremely unpopular, especially with the western men who in consequence of it had had their property destroyed, houses burned, and land devastated,” said Erath.30

  Santa Anna used the downtime to fortify the area he had selected for his army’s campground. He chose a small thicket near
the San Jacinto River, backed by marshlands and the vast body of water known as Peggy’s Lake. Colonel Pedro Delgado’s men were ordered to move his twenty mules’ worth of unloaded ordnance supplies one mile up to the new camp from where it had been offloaded earlier. Delgado complained that his men were subject to being pounced upon by the Texas rebels in the process. Lieutenant Colonel Juan Bringas replied to him that it was not worth the effort to complain to His Excellency while he was in such a “raving state of mind.”31

  COLONEL SIDNEY SHERMAN WAS not content to waste the rest of the day.

  Around 4 P.M. he rode to General Houston’s side with a pitch that he be allowed to seize the Mexican cannon. Houston was opposed but Sherman’s persistent badgering finally won over Colonel George Hockley. The general finally consented to let the battle-hungry Kentuckian “reconnoiter” the enemy’s forces.32

  As this mission was deemed voluntary, he would take only those cavalrymen from the companies of Henry Karnes and William Smith who willingly chose to accompany him. A number of other eager Texans quickly borrowed horses from those who were less excited about charging into the enemy’s lair. Among those offering his service was the Georgia poet who had walked to join the Texas Army at Groce’s plantation, Mirabeau Lamar.

  Sherman drummed up sixty-eight mounted men willing to ride into action with him. General Houston pledged only two regular army companies under Captains Amasa Turner and Andrew Briscoe as infantry support, if needed. Sherman slyly conversed with other infantry and artillery company commanders to solicit their support—with or without the general’s approval.33

  While Sherman organized his offensive, the Mexican troops were preparing as well. Colonel Delgado’s men had succeeded in moving their ordnance stores into Santa Anna’s new camp. Lieutenant Ignacio Arenal stepped in to replace the wounded Captain Urriza in command of the Golden Standard. He was ordered to load his cannon with grapeshot but not to fire until the enemy was within close range. Santa Anna, seeing the Texian rebels forming again across the field, ordered his cavalry commander, Captain Miguel Aguirre, to advance his mounted men in preparation.34

  Sidney Sherman’s horsemen advanced across the field in three squads. Major Lysander Wells of the Second Regiment had the left wing, Captain William Smith commanded the center, and Captain Henry Karnes with Deaf Smith took the cavalrymen on the right side. Secretary of War Thomas Rusk could not resist joining the procession. Private Walter Lane, riding with Karnes’s right wing, could hear Mexican officers taunting them with “Venga aquí (come here).”35

  Sherman took the offer.

  “Charge!” he hollered as he spurred his horse forward.

  The Golden Standard opened fire as the Texans raced ahead. Major Wells heard the whiz from a shower of grapeshot that showered harmlessly overhead. Sherman’s men fired their long rifles but were forced to dismount to reload the awkward weapons. Mexican infantrymen immediately dashed forward to fire upon them, but Sherman ordered his men to charge forward again. Two Mexican soldiers fell wounded, compelling their comrades to fall back toward safety again. Santa Anna, watching the drama from a safe vantage point, ordered his bugler to play the “no quarter” degüello piece again. He also ordered two companies of his riflemen to join the fight.36

  As Sherman’s men came under increasingly heavy fire from Mexican cavalry, infantry, and the artillery piece, Sam Houston finally allowed one of the Twin Sisters to be advanced. Captain Moreland and seven men rolled their six-pounder into the skirmish. One of the volunteer artillerymen, Dr. Nicholas Labadie, dashed from his position to help one of Sherman’s wounded men. Thirty-year-old Devereaux Jerome Woodlief, shot in the hip during the cavalry charge, was led back to the safety of a large oak tree.37

  A second Texan, artilleryman Olwyn Trask, was soon felled by a round of grapeshot that shattered his thigh bone. He was helped across the field to waiting surgeons, while Captain Aguirre ordered his men to charge for a second time upon Sidney Sherman’s men while they were reloading again. Three Texians had their horses shot out from them. They ran for their lives as Mexican cavalrymen charged toward them.

  Colonel Rusk had charged so far forward that he found his horse surrounded by Mexican lancers as they closed in. He was spared as Mirabeau Lamar suddenly barreled in on a large stallion, slamming headlong into a Mexican on a smaller horse. Lamar knocked down the lancer and his horse, allowing Rusk to ride to safety. He then spotted another comrade in peril. Nineteen-year-old Walter Lane found his powerful horse had “more zeal than discretion” as it charged headlong into the midst of the Mexican lancers.

  Lane threw up his double-barreled shotgun to ward off the blow of a Mexican officer’s saber. His rifle empty, the teenager aimed his horse pistol at his adversary’s head and fired. He missed, and in the same instant, Lane was knocked from his horse by a Mexican lancer. He hit the ground hard and was momentarily senseless. Captain Karnes ordered his wing to turn and support their fallen man. Lamar made his second save by shooting the enemy lancer before he could finish off the horseless Texan. Karnes raced in on his old sorrel, ordered Lane to jump on, and rode the boy out of harm’s way while Lamar held off their attackers. “I would know her hide if it was dried on a fence even now,” Lane later said of the bony horse that bore him to safety. “She had the sharpest backbone it has ever been my fortune to straddle.”38

  Sidney Sherman wisely pulled the remainder of his troops back away from the action at the urging of Colonel Coleman. General Houston had angrily refused to allow his riflemen to join the fight. Seeing that Sherman had stirred up not only the enemy’s artillery, but cavalry and some two hundred infantrymen, he turned to his aide-de-camp, Colonel Hockley. “What are they about?” Houston demanded. “I ordered a reconnoiter only! Call off the infantry!”39

  Major Wells was irritated by the lack of support from his own army’s infantry. “We were lucky to escape the hornets’ nest with only two men badly wounded,” he said. The sixty-eight volunteer horsemen failed to seize the Mexican cannon, but they earned the respect of their peers. Captain Robert Calder characterized their actions as “fearlessness and true patriotism.” Captain Jesse Billingsley was moved enough to try to lead his Bastrop company onto the field despite being ordered by Houston to restrain his men.40

  The action was largely over by this point and both sides withdrew their artillery pieces. Round two of the April 20 duel went to the Mexican army. Colonel Delgado felt the Texians “retired sluggishly and in disorder.” General Houston noted in his official report only that his cavalry had a “sharp encounter” with the Mexican cavalry, “in which ours acted extremely well, and performed some feats of daring chivalry.”41

  Colonel Sherman had earned the respect of nearly every Texan present, and Mirabeau Lamar was hailed as a hero for helping to save the lives of two cavalrymen. Captain William Heard believed that the commander in chief had sent the Kentucky colonel out to fight on April 20 against long odds in the hope Sherman “would get killed off out of his way.” Sherman had nearly succeeded in what might have been his ulterior motive—forcing Sam Houston and Santa Anna into an all-out engagement. Four Texans had been wounded but only the leg wound of Olwyn Trask would eventually prove to be a fatal one. The wounded were helped across the bayou to the home of Vice President Lorenzo de Zavala, which became the army’s makeshift hospital.42

  Santa Anna kept his troops busy through the night, building a defensive breastworks out of saddles and supplies. His soldados could see the flickering campfires of the Texas rebels, only about a mile away across an open prairie.

  The Texas Army had plenty of heroes to talk about that evening around the campfires as they roasted beef, made bread, and sipped captured coffee. There was speculation among the key officers as to whether General Houston would ever allow his army to fully engage that of Santa Anna. Captain Billingsley wrote that many company commanders “entered into a solemn engagement to fight the enemy on the next day, General or no General!”43

  George Erath felt the Texans
had been conservative throughout the day’s action. In his view, the afternoon skirmish proved the Mexican strength was “considerably inferior to ours, and their position [w]as very badly chosen for their defense.” The cries around the campfires had grown stronger. Erath felt there was a “determination to retreat no further; and it was only by the advice and example of a sprinkle of old men among us—some of whom had been in the Revolutionary War and that of 1812—that we kept order and discipline to await the developments of next day.”44

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  LEADERS OF TEXAS

  Stephen Fuller Austin, the “Father of Texas,” and commanding general of the volunteer army in 1835.

  David Gouvernor Burnet served as the interim president of the Republic of Texas in 1836.

  Samuel Houston, known in Cherokee language as “the Raven,” was the troubled commanding general of the Texas Army after the fall of the Alamo.

  San Felipe de Austin, located on the banks of the Brazos River, was the political center of the colony empresario Stephen Austin started in 1824. “San Felipe Townscape” by Charles Shaw, San Jacinto Museum of History, Houston.

  EARLY TEXAS RANGERS

  Noah Smithwick, an 1836 Ranger who later commanded his own men against Comanches.

  Ranger battalion commander Colonel Robert “Three Legged Willie” Williamson.

  Captain William Turner Sadler was one of the early Ranger leaders in the 1836 revolution.

  Austrian-born early Ranger George Bernard Erath.

  Colonel John Henry Moore, revered Indian fighter.

  Garrison Greenwood, an early Ranger superintendent.

  Fort Parker, also known as Fort Sterling during the Texas Revolution, was the rendezvous site for Colonel Moore’s Ranger companies in 1835. It was also the site of a bloody Indian attack in 1836.