Austin ordered the election of the new commander for November 24. By now the army had dwindled from a high of 600 or more early in the month to just 405 who said they would stay. Limiting the balloting to those remaining, Austin proceeded with the election. Patrick, at least, believed that Bowie hoped to win the command for himself, though the suggestion seems thin, for Bowie's miserable showing in the November 6 election would hardly have encouraged such expectations. Any prospect he might have had he sabotaged himself, for unfortunately James brought some refreshment with him from San Felipe, and the night before the election he became once again quite publicly drunk, considerably diminishing his standing with the soldiers.41 By the morning of the balloting, Burleson, destined to win all along, emerged victorious with no real opposition.42
In any case Houston had probably already given Bowie an assignment even before sending him to Austin's army. Since Bowie held no position under Austin, and was not in fact an enlisted volunteer, Austin could give him no orders of any kind anymore; neither did his authority extend beyond his own army. Yet almost immediately after the election Austin sent word to Goliad that Bowie would be on his way there in a few days to oversee the preparation of its defenses, and the direction for Bowie to do so could only have come from Houston.43 No doubt Bowie would have been pleased to get away, yet he lingered with the army a few days, taking an appointment as adjutant on Burleson's staff, and it was good that he did.
For a day or two rumors came into the Texian camp that Ugartechea would attempt to reinforce Béxar, and Burleson kept one of his best scouts, Smith, on the lookout to the west. On the morning of November 26 Smith came galloping into camp with word that he had seen a pack train with 150 Mexicans about five miles from Béxar. Intending to prevent the presumed supplies from reaching Cós and his hungry garrison, Burleson immediately sent Bowie and nearly forty cavalrymen off to skirmish and delay the train's progress, while William Jack led one hundred infantry after him. With his usual impetuosity, Bowie led his party at a gallop off to the west, and finally came in sight of the train only about a mile outside San Antonio. As it happened, some of the Texians had heard rumors of a convoy of silver bullion on its way to San Antonio, and some of Bowie's men—perhaps including Bowie himself—concluded that the mules in this train might just be carrying treasure.44
Despite being outnumbered perhaps 4 to 1, Bowie let his instinct for aggression take over, and he ordered his cavalrymen to charge the startled Mexicans just as they were crossing the dry Alazan creekbed. The move disconcerted the foe, and then Bowie quickly dismounted his party, took cover below the bank of another dry bed, and opened a steady skirmishing fire. The Mexicans themselves dismounted to take shelter in the dry creek, while a messenger dashed away to Béxar to ask Cós to send aid. Meanwhile Jack and the infantry, Burleson now in command, rapidly approached from the rear, hearing the firing in their front. By the time they were within a mile of Bowie's position, they went into a streambed themselves, hearing reports that Mexican cavalry were coming out of Béxar.
The Mexicans with the pack train tried to rush Bowie's position, but his men turned them back, while Burleson tried to find his way forward to join Bowie, but instead managed to advance to a spot between Bowie and San Antonio just as Cós sent out a reinforcement. As a result Burleson turned his attention to the new arrivals, while Bowie continued to battle the pack guard—triple his numbers—on his own. In places the antagonists were separated by not much more than a few yards in their respective dry beds, and unable to see what was happening elsewhere, Bowie had to rely on one brave fellow who stood on the high ground where he could see all the contending parties and signal which way to move.45
Finally Bowie reunited his dismounted men with the main body of Texians and rushed forward in a charge that dislodged the Mexican line, even though it was then being reinforced. The enemy opened fire with a cannon, but evidently only to cover the withdrawal into town, which then commenced. The Texians pursued for some distance but gave up when they saw the Mexicans pull into the San Antonio fortifications, and when Mexican cannon in town began to fire on them.46 The Mexicans left behind many of their mules, but the Texians who now scampered hurriedly across the prairie to collect the silver found the packs filled with nothing but grass freshly cut and on its way to feed the animals in the town. “This ludicrous affair,” one of them complained, “was then dubbed and is since known in our history as the ‘Grass Fight’.”47
Truly it did not amount to much. When the Texians collected their booty, they found animals and equipment worth perhaps $2,000 when later auctioned. They lost four men wounded and one by desertion themselves, and counted fifteen dead Mexicans on the field, though Bowie believed that the total enemy casualties ran to sixty or more.48 Some of the men involved firmly believed that Bowie “was the hero of the occasion,” yet significantly, when Burleson filed his report the next day, he complimented every one of his officers by name except Bowie.49 Perhaps he resented the way Bowie had impetuously lunged into action. Perhaps, too, he simply resented Bowie, having seen enough of the ambitious fellow's dealings with Austin to prefer to keep him at arm's length, and distrustful of Bowie's obviously close relationship with Houston, now supreme commander of all Texas forces.
Shortly after the Grass Fight, Bowie finally left on his mission to Goliad, about eighty miles southeast of Béxar. Austin had expected the army to spend the winter there, and if so, the Texians must commence building defenses for protection, fortifying the houses and streets as the Mexicans had done in San Antonio.50 It was also believed that Cós might be grazing some of his command's horses along the San Antonio River, so Burleson sent part of a company along with him in case an opportunity arose to capture or disperse the herd. Some of those accompanying him were tejanos who had served in the company now commanded by Benjamin Fort Smith, born within a few miles and days of Bowie back in Logan County, Kentucky. Bowie never saw the animals, but he did meet with a Mexican who said he knew another man who had tended the herd and would know where it lay. Bowie soon arrested the man, but he refused to give away the location.
Then something happened. One of Smith's volunteers, Plácido Benavides, suggested that they tie the man, put a rope around his neck, and raise him by a tree branch, strangling him until he agreed to talk. There was nothing surprising in that for Benavides. He was one of the ricos, the wealthy landed local aristocracy, like the Veramendis, who felt an ancestral cultural contempt, or at best disdain, for the pobres, the poor. Thus for Benavides there was no dishonor in torturing a peon for information, especially if he was working for the enemy. Bowie, who came from an entirely different culture that generally frowned on such brutality, agreed to the suggestion. Perhaps his marriage into the Veramendis had brought him not just family affluence but also family attitudes.51
The brutality, once commenced, almost got out of hand. Bowie ordered a fire started near the tree, and then some of his men hauled the unfortunate man up over it, adding the double torture of burning—or at least extremely uncomfortable proximity to the blaze—to the strangulation. At the same time eight of his company stood with cocked rifles beside the fire, pointing them at the poor man. When the victim stopped kicking and appeared near unconsciousness, they let him down and then threatened to shoot him. He refused to talk, and the whole business was repeated twice more, even though one of Bowie's men rebelled at the cruelty and refused to participate further. After the third time the Mexican revealed the whereabouts of a herd of horses, though Bowie's one rebel suspected they might have belonged to the man himself instead of the enemy army, but he gave them up simply to save his life. Even then, it seems, Bowie was not done, announcing that he intended to continue the torture the next morning, though what there was left to gain is a mystery, and in the event he failed to make good on the threat. With the rumors of a silver train still flying about, it is just possible that Bowie thought the man might know something of that as well. As for the rebel, Bowie punished him for his insubordination by makin
g him sit up all night guarding the prisoner.52
The fact that one volunteer refused to engage in the torture suggests that Bowie did not have so secure a hold on them as he did in battle. Fighting was one thing, and men would follow him blindly into certain death. But barbarity, even toward a Mexican, was something else, at least for one man. As for Bowie, who usually stood up for the defenseless, his behavior seems inexplicable, yet perhaps it is not. When Bowie wanted something he let nothing stand in his way. He wanted the horses—and maybe something more, if the silver rumors were involved—and this peon, defenseless or not, was an obstacle.
Bowie must have reached Goliad in the first week of December, and what he saw there looked bad. Capt. Philip Dimitt commanding its volunteers attempted to rule with a hand so arbitrary that complaints against him circulated widely. He interfered with judicial authorities, made unlawful arrests, and eventually was ordered to relinquish his command, yet refused to do so. His was the sort of personality born to clash with Bowie's, yet nothing suggests that any sparks flew at their meeting. Bowie simply observed Dimitt's management of affairs, and surveyed the condition of the post, which was not good. Dimitt's volunteers needed winter clothing, his supplies of provisions and ammunition dwindled, his sick list grew, and the command's horses were unfit for service. By December 2 he believed he could not defend the place if attacked.53
Rather than attempting to do anything with Goliad's defenses with the limited and weak manpower available, Bowie saw as much as he needed, and then returned to Burleson's army, no doubt hopeful of being present for the taking of Béxar. In his absence Burleson hesitated for several days, then finally ordered an assault for December 5. It made some initial success, taking a foothold in the city streets, and the fighting continued for several days, though at the cost of Ben Milam, shot December 7 right in the courtyard of the Veramendi home, which some in the army called “Bowies house.”54 After two more days of desultory fighting, Cós finally decided that he could not continue, and sought terms. Two days later the formal surrender took place.
Just when Bowie arrived is uncertain, but it was a few days after the fighting had ceased. He reported conditions at Goliad to his friend Frank Johnson, who assumed command when Burleson left on December 15, and then agreed to take Johnson's dispatches back to San Felipe. Before going, however, Bowie saw an old friend, Antonio Menchaca, who had left Béxar a refugee when the Mexican army came, and now returned. Seeing him brought back a flood of gentle memories for Bowie, who threw his arms around Menchaca and wept bitterly as he confessed his grief that Ursula had died alone, without him to give her comfort. “Are you still my companion?” Bowie asked almost pitifully.55
On December 17 Bowie left, accompanied by William B. Scates, a veteran of Travis's recent Anahuac adventure, and rode hard for San Felipe.56 He arrived two days later and took up his old lodging at Peyton's.57 He found the provisional government already in a mess. Governor Henry Smith struck some as “too illiterate, too little informed, and not of the right calibre” for his post, too burdened with conceit and stubbornness. Robinson enjoyed scarcely better opinions, and the members of the consultation had treated him rather coolly even though they elected him. The divisions in San Felipe were obvious. Smith and Houston favored the radical step of proclaiming full independence, while Robinson and the majority of the permanent council still clung to the 1824 constitution.58 Smith also stood opposed to the land-speculating interests, which should have included Bowie, and since some on the council had their hands in the land business, that only added to the unwholesome ferment. He complained of his opponents in San Felipe that “there was nothing of patriotism” in their actions. “It was all sordid self interest,” yet if ever a man was destined by temperament to alienate others it was Smith.59
Bowie also discovered on his arrival that Brown and Houston had a job for him that would throw him right into the middle of the mess. His old friend James Grant had been for some weeks promoting the idea of a military expedition to Matamoros at the mouth of the Rio Grande. He interested Dimitt in the notion, and Dimitt may well have discussed it with Bowie during his visit to Goliad. The port there took in one hundred thousand dollars or more in monthly revenue from shippers, they believed, and that would go a long way to finance their movement. Taking a position on what was uncontestably Mexican soil, even if only across the river from Texas, would also send a strong message to Mexico City, some thought, as well as inviting those in Coahuila who supported their cause to enlist. The Matamoros idea took on an additional attraction because it would be a means of employing the army now freed by the surrender of Béxar. The government had to feed and clothe those volunteers, and might as well have them doing something for their pay.
Yet there was another dimension to the plan, and the reason for James Grant's consuming interest. The capture of Matamoros would inevitably mean that loyal Mexicans living there and in the rich Rio Grande Valley would likely be willing to sell their homes and farms and livestock to Texians for very favorable prices, in order to leave for some safer location in the Mexican interior. Grant himself had extensive grant property in Coahuila, and saw the expedition as a way of protecting his own investments. Despite his blatant self-interest, he still exerted considerable influence, both with the army at Béxar and with Frank Johnson, and in San Felipe as well.60 Henry Smith liked the idea, seeing in it an act that would, by capturing Mexican soil, propel this conflict from an uprising into a revolution for independence. The council, largely because of the speculative advantages, also backed the plan. Houston objected to it, at least so far as the motive of protecting Grant's interests was concerned.61 Moreover, his own position as general-in-chief was not secure, and he knew that Grant had called for his replacement by Johnson. Thus Houston could not afford for an expedition like this to make a rival into a hero. If it had to go, and on December 16 Smith gave him a positive order to launch the expedition, then either he must command it himself, or entrust it to someone strong within his own faction.
Houston chose Bowie. On December 17 he drafted an order to Bowie and sent it to Goliad, where he believed his friend still to be working on defenses. He told Bowie to raise as many volunteers as necessary, march on Matamoros, capture and occupy the place until further orders. If he could not take the town, then he should at least go as far toward the Rio Grande as safely possible, and certainly to Copano, north of Corpus Christi Bay. From that position he was to harass any Mexican movements that must necessarily use the nearby Atascosita Trace, all the while “using the precaution which characterizes your mode of warfare.” Beyond that, he left all of the details to Bowie's discretion, with the proviso that he and his command must deal with the enemy “conformably to the rules of civilized warfare.”62 Houston told Smith that he chose Bowie for the task thanks to his familiarity with the country and its people, and because “there is no man on whose forecast, prudence, and valor, I place a higher estimate than Colonel Bowie.”63 Only a man who had never seen James Bowie in action would call him “prudent,” but of Bowie's prowess as a leader and fighter there was not a scrap of doubt. Yet Houston apparently intended that he would in the end himself command the expedition. Bowie was only to get things in motion while Houston fought the political battles raging in San Felipe.64
Just when Bowie himself actually learned of the order is uncertain, though the rumor that he had been selected was abroad in San Felipe the same day he arrived, on December 19, and by that time Houston was in Washington, thirty miles up the Brazos.65 Meanwhile, to thwart Smith, the council acted on its own, approaching Johnson and Fannin both about raising and commanding the expedition, either unmindful of the order Houston had given Bowie or more likely simply ignoring it. Grant, meanwhile, made preparations of his own, and it was obvious that neither governor nor general-in-chief had any real control. But James Bowie's loyalty to Houston was strong, and had he gotten his orders, he undoubtedly would have proceeded to put them into effect regardless of what the council or other would-be comma
nders said or did.66 Somehow Bowie either did not learn of his orders or unaccountably took no action on them for fully a week after reaching San Felipe, though his delay may have been in recognition of the command vacuum there. Learning of Smith's order to Houston, the council maintained that it was invalid since the council believed itself to be the supreme authority. Only on October 27 did the council endorse a Matamoros expedition.67 Then, and only then, it asked Smith to appoint someone to command.
Apparently Bowie did not stay in San Felipe for long after his arrival, and Houston only learned of his being in the area on December 26, hearing a report that he would show up either at Washington or San Felipe the next day. He sent instructions that Bowie was to come to him in Washington immediately in order to receive a copy of the December 17 order, and apparently he did, for armed with a copy of the order, Bowie was back in San Felipe by late afternoon, December 28.68 At 7 P.M. that evening he walked into the council chamber, no doubt at the request of its members, and with their leave offered his observations on the condition of their volunteers at Béxar and elsewhere. He stressed “the necessity and importance of active operations,” and then submitted a proposal for carrying out the Matamoros expedition. He would raise a new force of “auxiliary volunteers,” no doubt meaning temporary militia as opposed to the enlisted volunteers at Béxar, and rendezvous them at Goliad preparatory to moving on Matamoros. It was Houston's orders to the letter.69 The manner of Bowie's presentation impressed some of the council with his forcefulness, and perhaps even the earnestness of his commitment to the cause. He could always unleash those old powers of persuasion, the ability to sell himself and his ideas, on command.70 The council deferred a decision until the next morning, when the military affairs committee reported a resolution calling on the council to ask Smith to authorize Bowie to raise his volunteers.71 Of course this was not an order but merely a resolution to the council for its consideration, and so action must await a council decision, and in ensuing days the confusion only worsened. The council had already recommended sending Fannin to the west to take command of regularly enlisted men, and then also asked Travis to be sent to the frontier with all the cavalry he could raise for a move on Matamoros. It was all an uncoordinated mess, with no firm hand in charge, and Bowie and his orders remained hostage in San Felipe until the council should approve the military committee's resolution. Then on January 3, 1836, Frank Johnson brought word that on his own authority he had already started his volunteers, under command of Grant, on the road south to Matamoros, leaving only one hundred men under Capt. J. C. Neill to hold San Antonio. Moreover, Johnson and Grant had almost emptied the town of its military provisions, leaving Neill in danger of starving. Presented with an accomplished fact, and sympathetic with the speculative motives of Johnson and Grant, the council dropped consideration of the resolution about Bowie and formally authorized Johnson to command the expedition.
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