When Bradburn refused to release the prisoners, the Texians attacked and seized a building. Bradburn then agreed to free the prisoners if the Texians withdrew. But when they set up camp at Turtle Bayou he sent calls for help to Colonel Piedras and to Colonel Ugartechea at Velasco, recovered a supply of gunpowder from the building the Texians had held, then defied them. At Turtle Bayou, the Texians drew up resolutions in which they declared their support of the constitution and the liberal party. Incensed by Bradburn’s duplicity they sent calls for reinforcements, while John Austin, a friend but not a relative of the empresario, and others headed for Brazoria. Their purpose was to return with two cannon that the steamer Ariel had unloaded there to enable it to get across the bar at the mouth of the Brazos. While they were gone, the force at Anáhuac swelled to more than two hundred.
On receiving Bradburn’s call for help, Colonel Piedras set out with part of his force and sent word to Ellis to join him. Hoping to restore peace without a confrontation with the Texians, Piedras sent Ellis and another officer to invite them to a conference. Seeing another Anglo in a Mexican uniform, some were suspicious of him, but he persuaded them to talk to Piedras. What they told him convinced Piedras that their grievances against Bradburn were justified. He promised to turn the prisoners over to civil authorities, to pay for property Bradburn had seized, and to persuade him to leave, promises he kept. The Texians soon disbanded. A few days later, the whole garrison at Anáhuac declared for Santa Anna and sailed for Mexico. Ellis was greatly relieved.
At Velasco, near the mouth of the Brazos, Colonel Ugartechea properly refused to permit John Austin and the others to sail past his post with cannon to be used against Mexican troops at Anáhuac. Early on June 25, John Austin and 112 Texians demanded that Ugartechea surrender and leave Texas with his garrison. Ugartechea refused. The next day, forty Texians moored a small armed schooner near the fort and opened fire, while the others attacked by land. The fighting continued all day, as Ugartechea’s losses mounted. At the day’s end he capitulated and agreed to leave Texas. A year or two later, he would be named commander at San Antonio.
At Nacogdoches the colonists were determined that Colonel Piedras should declare for Santa Anna and the Constitution of 1824, which his officers favored. Piedras stubbornly announced his support for Bustamante, and ordered the settlers to surrender their guns. Ellis, who disliked Piedras, encouraged men from Ayish Bayou to join those around Nacogdoches, who were gathering on Pine Hill east of the town, but he took no other action. They elected James W. Pollock of San Augustine as commander and sent a delegation to tell Piedras to join them against Bustamante or fight. He chose to fight. The Texians marched to the center of the town, where they repulsed a cavalry charge and took possession of houses around the square. That night they heard the whole garrison riding out of town.
The tall James Bowie, whose brother Rezin invented the famous Bowie knife, had migrated to San Antonio years earlier. There he’d married Ursula Veramendi, but after losing her and their child to cholera, he settled at Nacogdoches. An experienced fighter and bom leader, he picked twenty men and dashed along the lower road to get ahead of the troops and check them at the Angelina crossing. When the advance party of troops reached the crossing the next morning, Bowie’s men opened fire on them, and the whole force forted up in a house on a hill. The rest of the Texians soon arrived, and the firing kept up all day, while Mexican losses mounted. On the following morning, Piedras turned over command to Major Francisco Medina and was escorted away. Medina and the rest of the command quickly proclaimed Santa Anna and were soon on their way to Mexico. Not long after this, Major Francisco Ruiz marched the Tenoxtitlan garrison to San Antonio over the protests of the settlers, who were left exposed to Indian raids. Only the garrisons at Goliad and San Antonio remained.
When Santa Anna pronounced against Bustamante, Mier y Terán supported the latter, for he distrusted Santa Anna and he was deeply disturbed by Mexico’s continued instability. On learning of the troubles at Anáhuac, he wrote Austin, asking him to use his influence to quiet the discontent. “The affairs of Texas are understood by none but you and me, and we alone can regulate them. But there is no time to do more than calm the agitation, something that can readily be accomplished because the objects for which they contend are definite and well-defined.”
In San Antonio de Padilla, where Iturbide had been executed when he tried to return from exile, Mier y Terán remarked to Colonel Díaz Noriega, “Things are in a bad way; the political horizon is ever more cloudy, and the net result will be the loss of Texas. I would give my whole life if Mexico could appreciate the beauty and fertility of that land, but no one will think of it.” Gesturing toward the south, he added, “The men there have enough to think about in their own intrigues and ambitions.”
“Sir, you’ll probably receive a majority of the votes in the next election. As president, you can take steps to remedy the evils,” Díaz Noriega said.
Miery Terán snorted. “That’s an insane idea,” he said.
Santa Anna sent Colonel José Antonio Mexía to Matamoros to seize control from the Bustamante forces there, and Colonel Guerra withdrew his small garrison. At San Antonio de Padilla, Mier y Terán’s depression overwhelmed him. Early one morning he donned his best uniform and buckled on his sword. Outside he stopped a corporal. “If your general should die, what would happen?” he asked.
“Someone would be sent to take your place, sir.”
Lips twitching, Mier y Terán walked on. Behind what remained of a mined church he placed the butt of his sword against the wall and the point over his heart and lunged against it. His body was placed in the same crypt that held Iturbide’s remains.
When Colonel Mexía learned of the troubles at Anáhuac and Velasco, he feared it meant that a general rebellion had begun. Accompanied by Austin, who had been in Saltillo trying to persuade the state legislature to support repeal of the Law of April 6, Mexía sailed to the mouth of the Brazos with five hundred men. John Austin wrote him there, relating the Texians’ grievances against Bradburn and explaining their actions. “The people,” he wrote, “are Mexicans by adoption, are so in their hearts, and they will remain so. If the laws grant them the honorable title of citizens, that title should be respected, and they should be governed by the authorities established by the state constitution, not by the military.”
Mexía was greeted everywhere with enthusiasm and support for the liberal cause. Satisfied that the Texians would remain loyal to the federal government, Mexía sailed for Mexico to continue the war against Bustamante.
On April 1, 1833, Texian delegates assembled at San Felipe to draft a petition for statehood for Texas. Among them was newly arrived Sam Houston, who had served under Andrew Jackson against the Creeks at Horseshoe Bend. Later he’d been elected governor of Tennessee, but an unfortunate marriage caused him to resign and live among the Cherokees, who called him “Big Drunk.”
Lawyer David G. Burnet drafted the petition, while Houston and others prepared a state constitution. Because the delegates expected Santa Anna to approve the petition, they sent the proposed constitution along with it and other requests. Austin carried these documents to Mexico City.
At first Vice-President Gómez Farías treated Austin with suspicion and hostility. Austin, fearing that Texians might resort to violence if the petitíon were denied, in desperation wrote the San Antonio city council, urging it to take the lead in setting up a state government in defiance of the federal government. Then his relations with Gomez Farías and other officials became cordial, and when he was satisfied that he had done all he could, he set out for Texas. But the San Antonio city council had sent his intemperate letter to the government, and Austin was arrested in Saltillo and confined in the old Inquisition jail in Mexico City.
In late April 1834, Colonel Juan N. Almonte, the son of rebel leader Morelos, reached Nacogdoches and immediately called on Ellis. Vice-President Gomez Farías, who was confident that Texas was on the verge of revolt, had
sent Almonte to take a census and prepare a statistical report. Secretly, he was to determine the Texians’ ability to wage war, to identify leaders hostile to Mexico, and to devise methods to neutralize them long enough for the government to prepare for war.
Again Ellis faced a predicament. He’d helped Mier y Terán select sites for new military posts, which had made some Texians regard him with suspicion. I’m for both sides, Ellis thought, and that’s a hell of a fix to be in. If this keeps up, neither side will trust me anymore. Maybe they don’t already. Almonte visited him off and on for three months, and Ellis was able to convince him that most Texians were not at all eager to break away from Mexico.
Because of Austin’s arrest, Almonte hesitated to visit San Felipe and other settlements in Austin’s colonies. “Do you think they might attack me?” he asked.
Ellis shook his head. “There’s absolutely no likelihood of that,” he assured Almonte. With some trepidation, Almonte rode to San Felipe, where he was treated cordially. After visiting Brazoria, Matagorda, Harrisburg, and Velasco, he was satisfied that Mexican officials misunderstood the situation in Texas. In his report he praised the Texians for their industry and loyalty, recommended that the reforms they desired be granted, and urged that Austin be released from prison.
From his cell Austin had written friends in Texas urging them to remain calm about his arrest. “Any excitement will do me harm, and do great harm to Texas,” he wrote. “Keep quiet and let me perish if that is to be my fate.” The repeal of the Law of April 6, which had occurred before Austin’s arrest, had pleased everyone, for after it went into effect nearly three thousand more Americans flocked to Texas. The legislature of Coahuila y Texas, possibly on Santa Anna’s recommendation, enacted most of the reforms the Texians had urged. It divided Texas into three departments, each with its own political chief and delegate to the state legislature, and it created new municipalities at Matagorda and San Augustine, at Ayish Bayou. It also authorized a circuit court and trial by jury, but neither could be immediately implemented. The new departments were Brazos, with its capital of San Felipe, and Nacogdoches. The Texians were relieved, too, because the only garrisons remaining in Texas were the main one at San Antonio and one company at Goliad.
Texians were also pleased at first by provisions for the sale of public lands to raise funds for the penniless state government. The legislature was aware that Texas might soon become a state, which would end any opportunity to sell land there. To encourage sales, the legislature added the statement that no person should be molested for political or religious opinions, provided the public order was not disturbed, which in effect meant freedom of religion. As a result of these desired changes, Texians were generally contented, but they would soon be outraged at the scandalous speculation in enormous tracts of Texas land.
Ellis was greatly relieved at the easing of tension; it appeared that Texas was advancing steadily toward statehood and the management of its own affairs. The only shadows still hanging over Texians were the Indian troubles on the frontiers and Austin’s continued confinement in Mexico City. But the colonists had followed Austin’s advice and remained calm about that.
“It looked for a time like we’d have soldiers breathing down our necks wherever we went,” Micajah remarked.
“If they ever get things straightened out down there, we may yet,” Ellis replied, “though they say Santa Anna acted real friendly to Texas when Austin saw him.”
“My father talked to General Mier y Terán when he was here,” Vidal observed. “He said Santa Anna is a viper, and an ambitious one at that. The General predicted only trouble for Mexico as long as he’s around. My father’s friends in Mexico City say he’s plotting to overthrow the federal constitution and replace it with a centralist one. If that ever happens, cuidado—take care.”
Ellis tugged at his earlobe while Micajah scratched his head. “Right now it looks like things are goin’ the way we want,” Micajah said. “Everyone’s satisfied with the constitution, and the state legislature gave us everything we asked for. All we lack is statehood, and if people keep a comin’ from wherever, we’ll be a sure enough state before much longer. Or don’t you see it that way?” he asked Vidal.
“I’m not as wise as my father,” Vidal replied. “He says Spaniards always trust their kings to be just. If there’s injustice, it’s the fault of officials, not the king. That’s why Spaniards never overthrow their kings. But Mexicans don’t feel that way about presidents, for they’re not of royal blood and can’t take the place of the king in men’s minds. But kings must be legitimate—not like Iturbide. If he’d been a European prince....”
“What’re you tellin’ us?” Ellis interrupted.
“Simply this. Mexico’s troubles aren’t over. They will continue, and they may either help or hurt Texas.”
“Let’s hope they help us more than they harm us,” Micajah said, “since we can’t do anything about them anyway.”
Chapter Eleven
Over the years, Ellis had bought and sold a number of leagues of land as well as town lots in Nacogdoches. He’d traded for a slave couple, Dory and Vina, who bore five daughters and a son. He also acquired Bolton, a fine Kentucky thoroughbred stallion. Because he was looked on more as a prosperous country squire than as a Mexican officer, the area around his ranch became known as Bean’s Prairie. That made him feel pretty good about himself, but it still rankled him that he wasn’t an empresario.
Although he frequently thought of disposing of his property and joining Magdalena at Jalapa, Ellis was too caught up in his business ventures to abandon them completely. He was also too satisfied with life in East Texas to turn his back on it forever, and in any case he didn’t want to leave until his children were grown up and independent. They still lived with Candace in the house he’d given her, and he supported them. He hoped to see Louiza Jane safely married before he left, for he was especially fond of his eleven-year-old freckle-faced daughter.
Ellis frequently visited them and his young nephew Sam Bean, who lived with them, although he and Candace had become little more than acquaintances. In December 1834, she applied to empresario David G. Burnet for a league of land, describing herself as a widow with three children. Although Ellis doted on Louiza Jane, he was also proud of his sons, and whenever he rounded up his cattle for branding calves or separating steers for market, they accompanied him. Micajah, Vidal, and other neighbors helped one another at such times. Ellis suffered increasingly from rheumatism, especially in winter, but despite the pain in his hands and shoulders, he remained active.
The only clouds on the Texas horizon in early 1835 were Santa Anna’s machinations and his unpredictable intentions, and the continued confinement of Austin in Mexico City. Aware that Almonte had urged his release, Ellis expected to hear any day that Austin was back in San Felipe.
In March Colonel Ugartechea, now commander at San Antonio, instructed Ellis to persuade the Cherokees to wage war on the Comanches, who retaliated against the invaders of their hunting grounds. He was to promise them the powder and lead they needed, and to assure them they could keep the loot they captured, knowing that much of it had been stolen from settlers. Accompanied by his friend, William Goyens, the mulatto trader who was also on good terms with the Indians, Ellis visited war chief Bowles. After talking to his leading warriors, Bowles agreed to send them against the Comanches.
On his return to Nacogdoches, Ellis learned that the people of Goliad, mostly Tejanos, were aroused over an American trader who encouraged the Comanches to raid so he could trade for whatever they stole. Ellis put an end to the practice by threatening to send well-armed Cherokee warriors to attack all Comanches who came to his post.
Ellis found the news from Mexico ever more discouraging. In May, the congress, which was dominated by centralists, declared that it had the right to alter or replace the constitution, and the erstwhile federalist Santa Anna apparently agreed. That means they aim to throw out the federal constitution, Ellis thought. Every
Texian will be up in arms if they do, and all Mexican federalists should be. But he soon discovered that only the states of Zacatecas and Coahuila y Texas had defied the government. Santa Anna was raising an army to subdue Zacatecas, and he’d named his brother-in-law, General Martín Perfecto de Cós, commander of the Eastern Interior States to deal with Coahuila y Texas.
Governor Viesca of Coahuila y Texas appealed for a hundred men from each of the three Texas departments to help defend the state government, now at Monclova. But because Texians were still seething over the scandalous sale of enormous tracts of Texas land to speculators for a few cents an acre, sales in which Viesca had a leading part, they scoffed at his request.
In July, William Roark rode to Ellis’ ranch to tell him the latest news. The previous month, a military courier had delivered a letter from Cós to political chief James B. Miller in San Felipe. It was court week and, as usual, most of the families from the surrounding area were in town. When Miller read the letter and announced that Cós had dismissed the state legislature, arrested Viesca, and was himself acting governor, angry men immediately clamored to rescue the ex-governor. Several of them seized the courier’s mail pouch and emptied it.
In it were letters from Cós and Ugartechea to Captain Antonio Tenorio, who had arrived at Anáhuac in January with a detachment of troops and a customs officer. Cós informed Tenorio that substantial reinforcements were coming to him by sea, and that Cós himself would soon land with troops to reinforce the garrison at San Antonio. Other units were marching there from the south, he added, and when they arrived he would arrest the agitators, expel all men who had entered Texas illegally, and disarm the settlers. Ugartechea wrote Tenorio that Santa Anna had thoroughly crushed Zacatecas, and his army would reassemble at Saltillo for the march to Texas. “These revolutionaries here will also be crushed,” he grimly predicted, no doubt still sMartíng over his defeat at Velasco.
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