Lone Star

by T. R. Fehrenbach

  In addition to restoring the powers and privileges of the States, Gómez Farías asked reduction of the powers of the army and the Church. Recognizing the problems with a citizenry who could not read or write, he emphasized a broad literacy program. The Vice President was one of those sincere, and tragic, liberal figures of Hispanic history. He knew what the nation required in order to make a true republic on the order of the United States or France. But he immediately displeased the army, and his literacy aims frightened both the landowners and the Church. Since he was not a demagogue, he talked over the heads of his real friends, the lowly Indians and mestizos. They might have supported a revolution that gave them immediate freedom and bread, but they could not comprehend his long-range plans. Opposition to Gómez Farías and the liberal position rapidly swelled. And, as Santa Anna suspected, the traditional bases of Mexican power, the army, the hacendados, and the Church hierarchy, were entirely too strong to be legislated out of existence.

  The ins and outs, the plots and counterplots engineered by Santa Anna from retirement at Jalapa were typical but hardly important. In time, the General succeeded in doing what he had in mind all along: he returned to power and resumed his office with the entire backing of the forces in the nation he now realized were strongest. He was hailed as the country's savior. The Church praised him; Te Deums were sung. Officers toasted him, and the latifundistas breathed a sigh of relief and turned to more enjoyable things. Even the ragged populace, who had never understood the coldly intellectual Gómez Farías, cheered the nation's greatest hero. Santa Anna now began to be proud of his new title: El Napoleón del Oeste, "the Napoleon of the West." It was no longer necessary to keep his ambitions concealed.

  Meanwhile, the Anglo-Texans, like the ministers of many nations, were misunderstanding the true state of affairs in Mexico. Mexía and his soldiers had departed with good cheer in the summer of 1832. The true, liberal Constitution was officially restored: Santa Anna made the temporary President, Gómez Pedraza, swear to it before having his three months in office. The liberal hero, hailed in Europe and the United States, was in power. It seemed the time to press for liberalization of the Texas government, and to secure what most Texans felt were their inalienable rights. Few greater miscalculations were ever made.

  However, the great mass of colonists had absolutely no idea of making a rebellion or war. Colonel Juan Almonte, who was sent to Texas by Gómez Farías as a combined goodwill ambassador and Presidential spy, was surprised to find the atmosphere different from what he had been led to expect. In the capital, it was widely stated that the Texans were plotting to detach the province; Almonte found only goodwill and loyalty to the Constitution. After making an exhaustive survey, Almonte realized the settlers had no dark aims against the Mexican nation, but they did expect to live in Texas as Americans, with all the North American individual privileges and rights. This, most Mexicans failed to understand, or understanding logically, emotionally rejected. Almonte, rather liberal, recommended that Texas be given the concessions, such as statehood, they demanded, but he offset this by recommending the province be well stocked with Mexican troops. It was virtually impossible for even a Mexican of goodwill to comprehend the fact that Anglo-Americans were capable of regulating themselves.

  For this reason, the moves now made by the colonists were misunderstood by both Mexican liberals and conservatives alike. On their own initiative, the settlers of the ayuntamiento of San Felipe called a convention to meet on October 1, 1832. Sixteen Anglo-Texas districts responded; only Goliad's delegation arrived too late.

  This convention chose Stephen Austin as its President and passed a number of draft resolutions addressed to the Federal government and to the government of the State of Coahuila. These resolutions asked that, among other things, new land titles be supplied, new ayuntamientos be created for self-government, that the colonies be exempted from customs duties for three more years, that customs officers be appointed by local, not national, authorities, and that land be set aside for the support of schools. The convention also approved a uniform plan for organizing all Texas militias, and drew up plans for Indian defense.

  Most interest and emphasis centered on two resolutions to be sent to the federal capital: a petition for repeal of the decree of April 6, 1830, on immigration, and a request to be separated from Coahuila and granted full sovereignty within the confederation as a state.

  Each of these resolutions was emphatically preceded by professions of loyalty to the Mexican Confederation and the Constitution. These were wholly sincere. But what the Texans were asking for was cultural pluralism, under Mexican sovereignty, and pluralism was not only foreign to the Hispanic nature but, in the light of the phobia against the United States that suffused most Mexicans, impossible to be weighed on merits. In fact, the very assemblies, so peaceful and so natural to the English-speaking experience and tradition, were entirely extra-legal under Mexican law. In Mexico, no initiative, except riot and insurrection, ever began with the people. Both liberals and conservatives, in office, ruled by decree. In this light, every Mexican official in Texas and in Mexico could only view the convention as some sort of enormous plot, aimed at the foundations of the nation.

  The October resolutions at San Felipe de Austin were never presented to the state or federal authorities. The Coahuila Governor ordered the political chief at San Antonio to remind the colonists that their meeting was a violation of the law and "represented a disturbance of good order." Santa Anna, when he heard of the convention, denounced it and remarked there seemed to be a tendency among the foreigners to try to be independent.

  This action by authority weakened Stephen Austin and other leaders whose whole aim was to secure Texas liberties within a loose framework of Mexican sovereignty. A pattern very similar to the conventions of the American Revolution emerged: more radical men, who did not proclaim allegiance and subservience to the Mexican nation quite so loudly, began to come to the fore. Semisecret committees of "safety" or "vigilance" were set up throughout Anglo-Texas, a complete and conscious inheritance of the events of 1775 and 1776. In January 1833, the central committee called for a new assembly at San Felipe to meet on April 1. This convention deposed Austin as chairman and elected William H. Wharton, a settler whose position was that there was a limit to argument with Mexicans who never seemed to understand.

  This second convention got to the point quickly. It passed resolutions setting forth grievances against customs duties, legal inequities, and military rule, and again petitioned for the resumption of immigration and a state government of, by, and for Anglo-Texans. Then it proceeded onward and actually framed a proposed state constitution, on the American pattern, which was to be presented to the Federal Congress for approval.

  In this every historian will recognize the normal process of Anglo-American government; every state that entered the Union beginning in 1792 followed almost an identical process.

  Drafting this constitution and forwarding it to the federal authority for ratification was the North American way of doing things, and the San Felipe convention did it instinctively. But understandably, this looked to Mexicans precisely like a pronunciamento, followed by a plan. Almost all Mexican historians believed there was always a well-conceived plot to separate Texas from Mexico, and this cannot entirely be denied. The majority of the settlers were not involved, but certain leaders now pushing to the front had either lost confidence in Mexico, or had never had any. Among these were Wharton, David G. Burnet, and a newcomer who had merely drifted into Texas but who had enjoyed great prominence in Tennessee—Sam Houston. Houston was a known protégé of Andrew Jackson, now President of the United States, and he was made chairman of the constitutional committee of Texas, although he was not even a legal resident. Houston's motivation was to bring Texas eventually into the United States.

  However, the burden of presenting this plan to the Mexican government fell to the empresario Austin, a man of proved loyalty and common sense. Somewhat unhappily, Austin agreed, and
on April 22, 1833, took the long and arduous journey to the capital. He arrived at Mexico City early in July. At this time Gómez Farías was Acting President, with Santa Anna biding his time in the wings.

  There are several versions of what now occurred. The government was in a turmoil of reform and confusion, and cholera had broken out in the city. But apparently Gómez Farías received Austin cordially and agreed to submit the petition to the House of Deputies. Also, through Lorenzo de Zavala, a Spanish Republican who had been exiled from Madrid and was now a Mexican cabinet minister, uniquely friendly toward Americans, he got a promise that the offensive Article XI, forbidding Anglo-Saxon immigration, would be revoked.

  But the Mexican regime had problems it considered more pressing than Texas, and though Austin stayed in the city through the epidemic, no action was taken on his petition. Sometime in September 1833, Austin again saw Gómez Farías. At this interview he tried to convince the President that delay was dangerous, and that if the Mexican authorities failed to act, the Texans were in a frame of mind to organize a state government without sanction. Austin spoke bluntly, and Gómez took this as a threat. Both men were angry when the discussion ended. Probably Austin had failed to understand that a Mexican liberal could be as suspicious of foreigners, and more nationalistic, than a member of the escocés elite.

  For the first time in his career, Austin now moved somewhat rashly. He wrote the ayuntamiento at San Antonio (whose members, although wholly Mexican, were eager for statehood) on October 2 that the municipality should take the lead in peacefully making preparations for a government distinct from Coahuila. This letter was written, as Austin admitted, "in a moment of irritation and impatience," after he had been cooling his heels in the capital for months.

  When this letter arrived at San Antonio, the political officer considered it treasonous, so marked it, and sent it back to the Acting President at Mexico City.

  Meanwhile, Austin and Santa Anna, who returned to the capital, conferred on November 5. De Zavala and three other cabinet ministers were present. Santa Anna seemed friendly. He stated he would not approve separation of Texas from Coahuila—and here Santa Anna was on firm ground, because the Constitution of 1824 required a territory to have 80,000 inhabitants before becoming a state. But he agreed to every other request the convention at San Felipe had made: repeal of the ban on immigration, better mail service, a modification of the tariff. He also promised to try to influence Coahuila to institute trial by jury in Texas—something more and more Texans vociferously demanded.

  Santa Anna, however, still suspected the Texans of revolutionary tendencies, and in letters to other officials made the statement. He insisted to Austin that 4,000 Mexican soldiers must be stationed in Texas "for the protection of the country." Austin argued that Texas was prepared to collect its taxes and guard its frontier without such government assistance. Only de Zavala backed him, and he got nowhere. However, he wrote home that he was well pleased with Santa Anna. "All is going well. . . . General Santa Anna has solemnly and publicly declared that he will sustain the federal representative system, as it now exists. . . ."

  Austin now witnessed the repeal of Article XI. Although the refusal of self-government would be a blow, he knew the opening of immigration would be joyfully acclaimed. Reasonably content, he departed Mexico City on December 10. In January, he stopped over at the Coahuilan capital of Saltillo to transact business with the Governor. Here he was suddenly arrested on a Presidential order and escorted back to Mexico. His letter to San Antonio had been received by Gómez Farías, who was angered and ordered Austin taken to the ancient Prison of the Inquisition. He was held there incomunicado, which meant he was deprived of books, writing implements, visits by friends, and even walks in the prison courtyard. He was kept in solitary for some weeks.

  Austin demanded a trial, but was denied one on the grounds that no Mexican court would accept jurisdiction. His only triumph in this period was that he was able to hide a small journal from his jailers, in which he kept the thoughts of an educated and sensitive man condemned to solitary confinement.

  News of his arrest caused great concern in Texas. Two attorneys, Peter Grayson and Spencer Jack, raised money and petitions for Austin's release and rode to Mexico. These two men were able to accomplish only one thing: to get him released on bail on Christmas Day, 1834.

  Now, while Austin languished, the liberal but politically unwise Valentín Gómez Farías, who alternated with Santa Anna in the Presidential chair, decreed himself into oblivion. Church appointments were given to the state; the clergy was forbidden to preach on politics or to enforce tithes, and the list of army officers was greatly deflated. Although Gómez Farías kept Austin in prison, the atmosphere of his regime did assist Anglo-Texas. In these months of 1833–34, immigration was again permitted, and the State Legislature at Saltillo passed a number of liberal measures. Naturalized citizens for the first time were allowed to engage in retail trade. Texas was allotted three deputies to the Coahuila congress. The Texas government was revised into three more efficient departments, at San Antonio, San Felipe, and Nacogdoches. The English language was first recognized for official business. A superior court—with the privilege of trial by jury—was authorized for Texas. Finally—and this actually in contravention to the Federal Constitution—religious toleration was granted.

  All these were honest attempts by Coahuila to satisfy its unwilling partner. But at the same time, greatly to the disgust of substantial men in Texas, the state opened land speculation. Thousands of leagues of land were granted to various promoters, both Mexican and American. One grant was in return for 1,000 soldiers being raised to fight Indians. Not a single soldier was armed, but many men grew rich. Liberalism had its drawbacks; speculators and promoters flocked to Saltillo, and land scrip was sold wildly in Texas and the United States. During this period some thousands of Americans crossed over into Texas. Some were honest land seekers. Others were drawn by the scent of opportunity.

  Then, in April 1834, Santa Anna took over the government at the capital. Gómez Farías was ousted for the last time. But this was a new Santa Anna, who now thought he knew the heart of Mexico. He repudiated liberalism publicly and dissolved the republican Congress. He dismissed all cabinet ministers but one, and by decree, abolished all local legislatures and ayuntamientos in the nation. The laws confining the clergy were declared void. This was a new Napoleon, indeed. Lorenzo de Zavala fled to Texas.

  A new and subservient Congress one by one legalized all Santa Anna's acts. Finally, in October 1835, the Constitution of 1824 was officially voided. Something identical to the old Spanish system of government replaced it.

  Mexico was declared a centralist state, in which the President and the national Congress held absolute powers. But this was only official recognition of what had already taken place, in 1834—Santa Anna already appointed every governor and official in the land. He was king, and more than a king, since he owed responsibility neither to the people nor God. There is much evidence that the mass of the population, although they did not approve of every whim of the General, breathed easier under the old system than under a federal republic no one could make work, and which only a few imported intellectuals understood.

  The people of Zacatecas, a state where liberalism had a strong hold, revolted when the regional militias were reduced in favor of the standing army. Santa Anna's regulars defeated and destroyed a Zacatecan force of 5,000. Then, as he had learned in his days with Arredondo, Santa Anna disdained to be burdened with prisoners and permitted his troops to rape and plunder the state capital.

  Word of these events reached Texas, but very little of what was happening was understood. Santa Anna still had a good reputation. Much progress had been made during 1833–34, and the compromising party was now ascendant. The hint of trouble crossed the Rio Grande only in April 1835, when Santa Anna sent an army to reduce Coahuila.

  Coahuila, under the federal system, had fallen into chaos. Self-government here had turned into con
fusion. After passing a number of liberal acts affecting Texas, the legislature had begun to fight among itself, over the issues of location of the state capital and the question of land speculation. The Governor and certain other officers seemed mainly concerned with becoming rich. The official capital was removed to Monclova from Saltillo, but the citizens of Saltillo erected a rival government. The issue provoked a small civil war.

  Santa Anna entered the quarrel and decreed the capital should remain at Monclova. In April 1835, the legislature issued a bitter criticism of this interference in their war. Under his new system of centralism, Santa Anna sent his brother-in-law, General Martín Perfecto de Cós, to break up the local government and render it obedient to the President. Governor Viesca was arrested, and a few state officials along with a "swarm of land speculators" dashed for safety north of the Rio Bravo. Once again, as in the troubles of 1810, Texas was becoming the refuge for Mexicans with antigovernment sentiments.

  In Texas, the events of the crucial year 1835 somewhat resembled the troubles of 1832. In January, the central government once again sent customs officers to Anáhuac and Velasco on the coast. Once again there was trouble, shots were fired, and two prominent citizens jailed. General Cós, mopping up in Coahuila, got word of this. He determined to reinforce the Texas garrisons and sent a dispatch rider north to Captain Don Antonio Tenorio at Anáhuac to stand firm and "be of good cheer"—the Mexicans were coming.