Three Roads to the Alamo

by William C. Davis

  About the only good news awaiting Bowie was of the misfortune of another. His old foe Josiah S. Johnston had been killed in May while traveling from Alexandria to Natchitoches when a boiler exploded on the new steamboat Lioness. It was a hollow pleasure, if any, given that it came at the same time as the ultimate destruction of Bowie's land speculations east of the Mississippi. To be sure, over the years he had realized no small sum in actual cash in hand, perhaps as much as fifty thousand dollars over a decade, but it was a small and disappointing reward in his grasp, compared to the scope of his reach. He still owned one or two small properties on genuine title, but they could hardly excite his interest now.

  Thus a trip east with Rezin offered the prospect of welcome relief from the scene of failure. Of the Bowie brothers, only James seems to have been spared the curse of failing eyesight, and by now Rezin's had reached a stage at which he felt he needed to consult specialists in New York and Philadelphia. Having originally intended to return to Texas that season, he scarcely got beyond Donaldsonville on his way upriver when his vision all but gave out, forcing him to cancel his plans. James's coming may even have been partially in response to a call for help from Rezin, a summons that he would never refuse, and together in late July or early August they set off for New York, probably taking ship from New Orleans. Rezin needed to get away if for no other reason than to escape his oppressive financial situation. By April 1832 his debts had mounted above $38,000. The frost that killed part of a crop, the faulty steam machinery that ruined more, the smallpox that killed slaves, and a host of other calamities had left him in ruinous shape. With the creditors closing in on him through the courts, he had no choice but to file a declaration of insolvency and surrender all his possessions except his clothing, his blacksmithing tools, and his militia arms and equipment. Everything else had to go, and even an attempt to shelter some of his property by turning it over to his wife, Margaret, and claiming her as a creditor did not work.63

  In New York, Rezin called on a doctor, while James may have had a chance—and amicable—encounter with his onetime foe at the Sandbar, Robert Crain. The visit included a trip to Niagara Falls before they headed south to Philadelphia in mid-August.64 In that city Rezin submitted to treatment from Dr. Valentine Mott that resulted in the partial recovery of sight in one eye, at least.65 While there he also indulged a whim that had taken him sometime before—to write and publish an account of the San Saba fight, and having James along with him allowed him to check his memory against his brother's. He gave it to the editor of Atkinson's Saturday Evening Post and Bulletin: A family Newspaper, Devoted to Literature, Morality, Science, News, Agriculture and Amusement, and had the pleasure of seeing it appear in the August 17 issue while he and James were still in the city. Accompanied by a crude woodcut showing the besieged whites defending themselves against a horde of Tawakoni, it allowed the brothers to relive again the most desperate hours they ever shared.

  If they tore their eyes from Rezin's article to peruse the rest of that issue, they also read “Major Downing's Official Report on the United States Bank,” one in a series of satirical letters by Seba Smith that he wrote in the exaggerated vernacular of the backwoodsman. Another close reader of those letters was a man Bowie might not have heard of: U.S. Representative David Crockett, who at that very moment was preparing to start writing his Autobiography, employing and perfecting that same style, and much influenced by Crockett. Though Crockett's name was not mentioned in the letter, still here James Bowie probably saw for the first time the phrase that so characterized not only the Tennesseean, but himself and his generation—“go ahead.”

  Finally they reached Washington, and another fruitless attempt to cajole or bully something out of the Treasury and State Departments on the Kemper claim. Bowie met Archibald Hotchkiss there, perhaps by accident, and possibly by design to further their speculating interests, but with nothing else to accomplish, he and Rezin took ship for New Orleans once more, arriving sometime near the end of September.66 Awaiting him he found letters from Ursula speaking of family matters, visitors coming to San Antonio, and her father's wish to consult with him, no doubt about that ten thousand dollars that Bowie was to invest.67 Ursula herself may have felt some concern about her husband's handling of the money, reminding him that Veramendi had given him unsecured funds for investment and that James must not use the money as if it were his own. “Here they have another way of thinking,” she prompted. But, as always, her last words were for him to “receive thou the heart of thy wife.”68 She must have had at least some of his heart as well, for while here in New Orleans Bowie bought her a splendid set of emerald jewelry, looking forward to seeing her wear it upon his return.69

  But now some doubt arose as to when Bowie would go back to Texas, and even if he would return. He went to Natchez after reaching New Orleans, and there cultivated old friends like McNeil and new ones like Dr. William Richardson. His stories of Texas land sparked the interest of new friends, too. Dr. Samuel Gustine loaned him four thousand dollars to spend in Texas on land speculation, and Dr. Addison Dashiel covered Bowie's notes for up to another four thousand, McNeil all the while marveling at and admiring Bowie's “extraordinary Capacity in getting money from his friends.” Even Richardson parted with some cash, McNeil observing that “Bowie could easily have obtained from him any reasonable amount of money.” If the several physicians had paid more careful attention to the lavish way Bowie spent money, they might have been a bit more judicious in entrusting theirs to him, but his manner was, as usual, irresistible.70

  Yet something sinister, and far more irresistible than even Bowie's charm, visited Natchez that same summer. The whole Mississippi Valley was hit—first by cholera in Arkansas, and then by the malaria that so often ravaged Mississippi and Louisiana.71 That summer proved to be one of the worst, and the innocuous mosquitoes that carried the virus did not discriminate great men from small. One of them bit James Bowie while he was in Natchez in October, and within days he was deathly ill. All the symptoms were there—the fevers and chills, the ache in the back, the delirium. It did not help that his body had never fully recovered from the bullets and blades of the Sandbar. By the end of the month he lay near death at McNeil's house, cared for by his friend Richardson. Perhaps at McNeil's urging, he decided that it was time to make out his will. He dictated it to his friend attorney Felix Huston, and kept it simple. He wanted Gustine to be repaid his loan, and Dashiel secured from having to pay any of the notes that he guaranteed. To Ursula, “my dearly beloved wife,” he left her new jewels and nothing else, since she was provided for in his prenuptial agreement. Apparently Bowie was sufficiently disoriented that he did not remember that between all the outright lies and exaggerations, and the evaporation of the money due him for his Louisiana land, there might not be fifteen thousand dollars' worth of estate left to satisfy his obligation to her unless his eleven-league grants could be confirmed and sold. Instead, all of his estate after his debts he left to Rezin and Martha Sterrett, stipulating that he wanted them to ensure that they used some of the money to educate Stephen's orphans, and that his executors, Rezin and Alexander Sterett, should heed Veramendi's advice in liquidating his Texas holdings. When it was done, Huston read it aloud to Bowie, who approved and falteringly affixed his signature.72

  Having settled his affairs and prepared himself for death, Bowie and his iron constitution proceeded to defeat the malarial parasites in his blood, just as he turned back the Tawakoni on the San Saba. Within a few days his fever broke, and Richardson told him that he was on the mend. But then, while he recuperated at McNeil's, came devastating news. There had been a death in the Bowie family after all. Ursula was gone. The cholera outbreak in Arkansas was not isolated, but quickly spread via travelers into Texas. John Austin died of it in September, and in Béxar Bowie's friend José Navarro confessed that he was “very much upset with the danger of this damned cholera.” A worried Veramendi took his family, including Ursula, to Monclova to get away from the epidemic.73<
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  They left too late. If the infection was not already with them, it appeared on the way, for no sooner did they reach Monclova than the dying commenced. As Menchaca and others watched helplessly, Josefa Navarro de Veramendi went down with cramps, then the violent vomiting and diarrhea, physical collapse, and finally death, all in the space of a day. In terror, each of the others in turn felt the onset of the symptoms, and faced their ends, first Governor Veramendi, then his adopted son, Santiago, and at last Ursula. By about September 23 they were all gone.74 Three days later the word reached Navarro in Béxar, and he wrote off to Samuel Williams, who had himself nearly died of the epidemic in San Felipe. “Bowie is already a widower,” said Navarro. He should get word of the tragedy to Natchez.75 Perhaps because of Williams's own illness, he did not send the word at once. Moreover, it would take time for a letter addressed to Bowie to find him. More than five weeks passed before the black day, early in November, when McNeil handed the recuperating Bowie the letter with the news. Having nearly beaten the microbes in his body, Bowie almost relapsed, leaving McNeil worried at how “very low” he sank with the news.76

  But nothing, it seemed, could kill him. Realizing now how much he had missed in all those months away from Ursula, and perhaps as well realizing that she meant more to him than he had thought, he may have fought a losing struggle with his conscience, but his body won its battle and he recovered. Always, it seemed, his prospects brought him to the brink of success, and then his hopes were dashed. The land schemes in Louisiana and Arkansas had come so close, then dissolved. His plans for Congress and high position had looked so bright, then evaporated. Now, in this dreadful 1833, with the finest marriage to be made in all of Texas fairly begun, it ended in tragedy, taking from him not only his wife but his intimate tie to great influence through the dead Veramendi. There was nothing to do but go back to Texas when he was able, of course. Sobered, even shattered, he still never gave up. Defeat simply was not in him. On his way back he encountered on the road his acquaintance Noah Smithwick. When Bowie spoke of Ursula's death, Smithwick saw tears in his eyes.77

  15

  TRAVIS

  1833-1834

  We must wait patiently for the moving of the waters. The course of events will inevitably tend to the right point, and the people will understand their rights; yea, and assert them, too.

  WILLIAM BARRET TRAVIS, NOVEMBER 13, 1834

  The cholera that killed Bowie's wife and in-laws missed Buck Travis, but it hit San Felipe and Brazoria hard enough. John Austin died of it. Travis's friend William Eaton came down with it and luckily survived. On September 6, 1833, Travis and Thomas McQueen sat up much of the night with their dying friend Eli Holly from Alabama, and the next day attended to arrangements for his funeral and burial. Travis dosed himself with salts and vials of patent nostrums on sale at the local merchants, but in the end his survival came down to pure good fortune.1

  The diseased bodies of Texians, tejanos, and Mexicans from the Brazos to Saltillo seemed to speak for the unrest in the body politic as well. Travis was a close observer of the April convention that met in San Felipe, especially since by then he was so well acquainted with many of its delegates. He knew Bowie by now. He met new faces, too. Travis would have encountered Houston for the first time, who sat as a delegate from Nacogdoches; and if he did not know William Wharton already, he saw much of him now as leader of the convention. Of course Travis knew Stephen Austin, and beyond question wholeheartedly endorsed the mission of the convention that sent him to Mexico to seek separation from Coahuila. If anything, Travis may have wished by this time for more: separation from Mexico itself.

  That is what some of the Mexicans in San Felipe feared. A correspondent of the new secretary of war in Mexico City wrote as the convention met that “lately your Honor what I feel is the state of Texas is very soon to be lost if the steps necessary to save it are not taken.”2 Yet the Texians went rather quiet after Austin left, awaiting with hope the result of his mission, while the instability in Mexico continued. By July, Travis was warning a friend that “there is war and rumors of war in the interior,” and sending open letters on the subject to Daniel Anthony, editor of the Brazoria Constitutional Advocate and Texas Public Advertiser, showing that he clearly felt he should voice his opinions on public matters.3 There were no real parties in Texas politics as yet. Some men favored the old centralist regime with power concentrated in Mexico City, while others backed the republican movement that called for more local and regional autonomy, with affairs controlled through the legislature in Saltillo, or else at San Felipe in a separated Texas. Yet most men crossed these lines on other issues, severely blurring the edges of loyalty, so that by now many simply adhered to one leader or another, chiefly the conservative Austin or the growingly popular Houston, who favored a more aggressive stance. Certainly Bowie stood with Houston by late 1833, along with Wharton and others. But Travis kept a foot in both camps. His youth, enthusiasm, and passionate impulse drew him to the dynamic leaders, yet an incipient sense of prudence kept telling him that this was not yet the time to push too hard. If he hoped eventually to see an independent Texian nation, he seems intellectually to have understood that it would best be accomplished in stages, with independence from Coahuila the first step.

  Unfortunately Austin met too many delays in Mexico City. He did get a commitment to withdraw the April 6 law on immigration, in itself a major concession, and officials at least promised to address other reforms, but by October, when he saw no movement on the issue of separation from Coahuila, he wrote to the ayuntamiento of Béxar suggesting that they go ahead and form a provisional state government. Perhaps presenting the Mexicans with an accomplished fact would spur them to action, he reasoned. In November the government did at last repeal the April 6 law, but then Santa Anna finally took power and suspended the repeal for six months. In frustration Austin left for Texas, only to be arrested and charged with sedition for his suggestion to the Béxar ayuntamiento.

  Through all this time Travis, like the rest of the Texian leaders, remained an observer. He really did not enter the political arena actively until the late fall, when the time came for elections for a new alcalde in San Felipe. He had become increasingly close by now to men like Gay and Johnson, and especially Williamson. He dined with the latter two at Peyton's from time to time, and Williamson called frequently at Travis's office when in town. When Williamson announced himself a candidate, running against Silas Dinsmore, Travis promptly electioneered on his behalf, going into the tejano section, which he called “Spanish Town,” to cajole or bargain votes. So confident was he of Three-Legged Willie's success that Travis bet ten dollars and a new hat on the outcome, and a pair of boots that his choice for sheriff would triumph. On December 8, after Williamson's victory, Travis spent the whole day buying drinks to celebrate the triumph—and perhaps to pay for a few votes.4

  Then things started to happen. On January 13, 1834, Travis first heard word of the repeal of the April 6 law. “Joyous intelligence!” he called it, but the news was dampened by word of Austin's arrest.5 At almost the same time Travis slipped into a more active political role, thanks in part to his growing skill with Spanish, and also to his friendship with Williamson. He had done some translating of letters for the ayuntamiento by now. Then Samuel William's term as secretary to the ayuntamiento expired, and, no doubt prompted by the new alcalde, Williamson, the body chose Travis to replace him. At first Travis thought to decline the position, but a stipend of four hundred dollars a year changed his mind, and on February 19 Williams turned over to him the official records of the ayuntamiento, though Travis actually commenced his duties several days before. It was not exciting work—some translation, lots of copying of letters and resolutions, filling reports with the department political chief in Béxar, compiling vital statistics for Austin's colony, and the like. But the secretarial pen put him at the center of what was happening, where he saw every incoming letter and wrote or copied almost all outgoing correspondence and repo
rts. Moreover, being present at all the meetings of the ayuntamiento, and its members being his friends, he could by mere conversation exert almost as much influence as a voting member.6

  Travis had to be careful about his friends, though, for sometimes his new position put him at risk of conflict of interest. He still served privately as attorney for Samuel Williams in his land dealings, and now the subject of the old Sterling Robertson empresario grant came before the ayuntamiento. Robertson brought his claim to their attention in the wake of the announcement of the revocation of the April 6 law. Travis had previously advised Williams to meet informally with Williamson and others to try to settle the matter out of court, but now the council met formally and on February 6 concluded that Robertson's contract should still be valid and that he by rights ought to be recognized as head of the colony that Williams had been trying to develop.7 In fact, copying the resolution was Travis's first task as secretary, the very day that he accepted the position. Given the fact that he was not yet officially secretary when the council made its decision, Travis's personal and business relationship with Williams could not likely have influenced its decision, but Williams decided not to accept the finding without a fight. The next day he spoke with Travis, now officially secretary, and promised to give him certificates for land in the colony that had been taken away from him. The implication that he expected Travis's assistance when the issue came before the ayuntamiento again is unmistakable, but in the end the congress in Monclova settled the case by finally revoking Austin and Williams's claim to the grant.8 If Travis took any note of the possible intention of a bribe, he kept it to himself.