3d. That they do not consider that the present authorities of
the nominal Mexican republic have the right to govern within
the limits of Texas.
4th. That they will not cease to carry on war against the said
authorities whilst their troops are within the limits of Texas.
5th. That they hold it to be their right during the
disorganization of the federal system, and the reign of
despotism, to withdraw from the union, to establish an
independent government, or to adopt such measures as they may
deem best calculated to protect their rights and liberties,
but that they will continue faithful to the Mexican government
so long as that nation is governed by the constitution and
laws that were formed for the government of the political
association.
“Comes _near_ independence, doesn’t it!” quoth somebody. “Just says if
they won’t play with us we won’t play with them!”
“Merely being polite about it, is all,” agreed Dick. And he resumed.
6th. That Texas is responsible for the expenses of her armies
now in the field.
“Glad to hear that,” was the interruption. “I’ve been pinin’ to know
who was goin’ to pay me for my crops I’ve lost.”
7th. That the public faith of Texas is pledged for the payment
of any debts contracted by her agents.
“Pay in faith, huh? Wall, thar’s nothin’ else in the treasury, that’s
sartin.”
8th. That she will reward, by donations in lands, all who
volunteer their services in her present struggle, and receive
them as citizens.
“Thar’s sense to that. We got land a-plenty, anyhow.”
These declarations we solemnly avow to the world, and call God
to witness their truth and sincerity, and invoke defeat and
disgrace upon our heads, should we prove guilty of duplicity.
Dick passed the handbill around.
“Who wrote that?” he asked, of Leo. “Sounds a little like Sam Houston,
and then ag’in it doesn’t seem to be quite high and mighty enough.
Sam’s fond of big words.”
“Don’t know who did write it,” answered Leo. “They say there were
four or five propositions. Austin sent one in, favoring the Mexican
constitution of ’24 and separation from Coahuila. It was the mildest.
Daniel Parker, of Nacogdoches, and D. C. Barrett, of Mina, had a couple
of others. Three-legged Willie had another ready. That was the hottest,
and they say the most of the one adopted is his, toned down some.”
“Were there any good speeches?”
“Well, I should rather reckon there were. I heard ’em through a window.
Most of us outsiders had to listen through the door and windows. Dr.
Branch Archer made a bully speech, as president. He said we weren’t
fighting for ourselves alone; we were ‘laying the corner-stone of
liberty in the great Mexican republic.’ Mr. Royall read a letter from
Austin, telling what he thought the consultation ought to do――and
they pretty nearly did it. Martin Palmer argufied for independence
and J. D. Clements, of Gonzales, argufied for the constitution. Then
J. A. Wharton argufied for independence; and General Houston made the
bulliest speech of all, asking us all to go slow and work together.
He and J. A. Wharton almost had a fuss over whether we should declare
for independence or the constitution, but Houston won out, when the
question was put, more than two to one for the constitution.”
“They had as much trouble as the first Continental Congress did, ’long
back there in 1774, when we all were separating from Great Britain,”
quoth Dick. “Fact is, the colonies were in about the same fix Texas is.
What else did they do?”
“Well, they drew up a sort of a constitution to govern Texas until
things are settled. They elected Henry Smith, of Columbia, governor;
he got thirty-one votes and Austin got twenty-two. J. W. Robinson,
of Nacogdoches, is lieutenant governor. Mr. Archer and W. H. Wharton
and Austin were appointed commissioners to the United States to get a
loan of a million. The capital is moved to Brazoria. And Sam Houston
was made commander-in-chief of the armies of Texas, with rank of
major-general, and told to raise a regular army of ’leven hundred and
twenty men, like the regular army of the United States. Then some
thought of making Austin commander-in-chief, but it looked like he
could do better work in the United States. Anyhow, only one vote was
cast against Houston, so I reckon he’s all right.”
“Right!” exclaimed Dick, amidst a general hum of approval. “He’s a
soldier; he’s been trained in soldiering. And he’s as big inside as he
is outside. Austin’s got the pluck, but he hasn’t got the strength.
He’s the man for visiting the United States; but Houston’s the man this
kind of an army needs in the field. What was said about the volunteers?”
“Well, there was a committee report on us volunteers. It said no laws
had been passed to support us, but we ought to be treated so we’d stay
out till enough regulars had been raised to take our places.”
“Is Houston coming on, did you hear?”
“No; don’t reckon he is. He’s got to hustle ’round and raise that new
army. But we don’t need him, or the regulars either, do we? Jiminy,
you ought to see those New Orleans Grays, from the United States.
Two companies of fifty men each, all uniformed in gray and armed
with muskets given ’em by Texas. When one company passed through
Nacogdoches a lot of Chief Bowles’s Cherokees were there. The Injuns’
eyes stuck out and old Bowles wanted to know if these were ‘Jackson
men’ and if any more were coming. ‘Sure they are!’ said Mr. Sterne, who
was the Texas man that enlisted ’em in New Orleans. ‘How many more?’
asked old Bowles. ‘Count the hairs on your head,’ said Sterne. Every
Injun lit out of town as fast as he could go, and I reckon we won’t
have any trouble with those Cherokees!”
“Houston’ll hold ’em down, anyhow,” declared Dick. “How close are those
Grays?”
“Be here to-morrow,” answered Leo. “And I heard tell at San Felipe that
more volunteers are being enlisted in Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi,
Kentucky, and Ohio, and everywhere. There’s a Mississippi company right
behind the Grays, and also a company from East Texas.”
It certainly seemed good to have Leo in camp again. The next day the
Grays arrived――two companies, in natty gray uniforms, marching like
soldiers, and commanded by Captain Breese and Captain Robert Morris.
They were welcomed by rounds of cheers, and were assigned to a camping
spot. Following close arrived the Mississippi company, Captain Peacock;
and the East Texas company, Captain English; and a twelve-pounder
cannon.
Things were looking more lively. To be sure, counting the reinforcements,
there were only 800 men; but every one appeared ready to oust those
Mexican soldiers from Bejar immediately. General Austin, too, had taken
heart; and from his headquarters, where he was obliged to stay much of
the time, ill and miserable, on this night of November 21 he issued the
orders that Bejar was to be stormed at three o’clock in the morning of
the 23rd.
So speedily the news spread through the camp that Ernest and Jim
heard it before they went to sleep; Leo heard it, and so did Sion;
practically everybody heard it, from their officers and other comrades.
San Antonio was to be captured at dawn, on the day after to-morrow!
“All right,” said Jim, sleepily. “I guess we can do it.”
Good old Jim! But Ernest had rather a hard time drowsing off. He
kept seeing the cannon and the soldiers shooting from the walls and
roof-tops of the Alamo and of Bejar; and hearing Jim Bowie describe
again how strong the fortifications were. However, these were no
thoughts for a Texas Volunteer. Maybe the job would not be so
difficult as was imagined. Those Mexicans didn’t aim very straight.
Anyway――heigh-yum. Orders were orders.
The next day opened with excitement and determination. One after
another the scouting patrols came riding in. They had been sent for
to join in the attack. Arms and other equipment were prepared; and
in little groups the men talked; some laughed and joked, others were
grave, but all seemed enthusiastic.
Then, along in the afternoon, a shadow seemed to pass over the busy
camp. Ernest sensed it; so did Jim; so did Sion and Leo. The men were
still determined, but the word was passed about that William Wharton,
the judge-advocate, and several other officers questioned whether it
was wise to storm the fortifications, quite yet――and that Sam Houston,
the new commander-in-chief, had written a letter advising against it.
“He says it’ll take two thousand men,” was the report. “He ought to
know――he’s a military man. Austin isn’t commander-in-chief any longer.”
“Maybe we ought to wait for him.”
“Maybe we ought to wait for more reinforcements.”
“If we’re going to wait, we needn’t wait in this place. I don’t want to
camp out in many more northers. I near plumb froze.”
“Those fellows make me tired,” complained Jim. “They’ve been itching
to fight and be done, and now they’re kicking. What do we care about
Houston and Wharton and the rest? We’ve got enough men to take Bejar.
Houston isn’t there and we are.”
Late that afternoon it was rumored that John W. Smith, an American
surveyor of Bejar, had smuggled out to General Austin a complete plan
of the fortifications in the town, and that Dr. James Grant, another
engineer, had pronounced them excellent as a guide.
In spite of the grumblings, the two divisions of the army were paraded
under arms and inspected, at sun-down; General Austin made a speech of
encouragement; and upon dismissal the company commanders were ordered
to turn their commands out before dawn and assemble them at the old
mill at three o’clock.
After the dismissal of the parade, another strange thing occurred. Sion
trudged over from his mess, in the dark, against orders, to debate the
matter with his two cronies. In fact, the whole camp was uneasy, and
sleeping not at all.
“Hello,” greeted Sion. “Say, did you fellows get asked by any officer
whether you’d attack Bejar or not?”
“We sure did,” responded Jim. “And we said ‘yes.’ But a lot of ’em
crawfished. I reckon we’re going, just the same.”
“I dunno,” opposed Sion, gloomily. “A lot of our fellows are on the
fence, too. They think maybe we’re in a little too much hurry――had
better wait a bit and make certain with more troops and cannon that
Houston’s collecting. If we got wiped out in this one scrimmage that’d
hold Texas for a while. Santa Anna’d simply smother what was left
of us, and we’d never have another chance. Well, I can’t stay. I’m
supposed to be where I belong, ready for three o’clock. See you in the
morning.” And he trudged away.
“Shucks!” muttered Jim. “Looks as if we were going to back water, after
all. Isn’t this the funniest army you ever were in?”
“I should say,” agreed Ernest――which was very true. “Wonder if they’re
the same in Leo’s company?”
“It _would_ be pretty hard on Texas families to have their men folks
killed and nothing gained,” mused Jim. “I guess I don’t blame some of
the troops for having two minds, now when it comes to the scratch and
the odds are so big against us. If we didn’t take Bejar――whew! For we’d
all fight till we were dead, that’s sure.”
Shortly after midnight Ernest was aroused from an uneasy sleep by
a fresh stir among the prone lines. This is what had happened:
Lieutenant-Colonel Philip Sublett, who now commanded their division,
the second (for Colonel Bowie was already under orders to take
dispatches to Goliad), had awakened General Austin, at headquarters,
and had told him that the majority of the second division were in
favor of postponing the attack. General Austin had sent for Colonel
Ed. Burleson, of the First Division, and inquired of him; and Colonel
Burleson had made a similar report.
Now Mr. Frank W. Johnson, the adjutant-general, was investigating
for the general, to make certain; he was inquiring among the company
officers. As the result, at three o’clock the companies, instead of
being paraded for the attack, were ordered to stay as they were. There
would be no attack. Colonel Burleson had offered to lead his division,
anyway――that is, as many as would follow him; and the New Orleans
Grays and the other United States volunteers were ready; but the Texan
volunteers――shucks, as said Jim.
Leo and Sion and Jim and Ernest gathered after breakfast and talked the
matter over. The whole camp was talking and arguing.
“You fellows in your division aren’t worth sour apples!” accused Leo,
hotly, of Sion. “First you wanted to fight, and now you don’t.”
“We aren’t any worse than you are in your division,” retorted Sion.
“Your colonel reported first. Burleson said he’d lead us――as many as
would go.”
“According to the tell,” spoke Jim, “there aren’t more than a hundred
of the Texan volunteers who _would_ go.”
“Well, I’d go,” asserted Leo. “But there are a lot of us fellows who
have our families to think of. We didn’t come here to be killed if we
could do just as much without being killed. We thought there’d be a
bigger army. I tell you, this is a serious proposition, to send only
eight hundred men, just volunteers, against a fort with plenty cannon
and upward of a thousand trained regulars.”
“This army’s figuring too close,” blurted Sion. “We’ve hung ’round here
so long that we’ve talked ourselves tired, and some of our best men
have gone home.”
“It’s pretty tough on General Austin,” proposed Ernest. “He’s about
sick over it――and he was sick anyway.”
“That’s so,” agreed they all. “First we were sore because he wouldn’t
let us attack Bejar, and now we won’t attack it when he tells us to!”
“He’ll have to leave us, anyway, and go to the United States,” remarked
Leo. “Expect he’d like to have finished this job first, though.”
This day a council of war was held, and was reported to have about
decided that if Bejar did not surrender before winter set in, the army
ought to be moved into winter quarters at Goliad, where there were
provisions and shelter. The next day, which was the 24th, a general
parade was ordered, at which General Austin made a farewell address.
He said that he was required by the Texas government to leave at once,
and visit the United States, to raise money for the Texan cause. But
he requested that his going should make no difference in the plans
against Bejar; he hoped that the army would stay right there, and press
the siege hard, until General Cos either surrendered or else was so
weakened that a short attack would end matters in a hurry.
He complained or scolded not by a word or gesture, did General Austin,
and the troops showed their love for him by volleys of cheers.
When he had finished, Adjutant-General Johnson called for all those men
who would pledge themselves to stay before Bejar until it was taken to
step forward. Forward stepped, at once, more than half the army: Jim
and Ernest, side by side, and Dick Carroll and almost all the Gonzales
and Colorado men; the Brazos companies; and over in the First Division
Sion, too (as Ernest wagered with himself), among the others.
Colonel Burleson was immediately elected commander to succeed General
Austin. On the morning after the parade and the farewell address
General Austin left for his home in San Felipe; thence to report to
Governor Smith and proceed with the two other commissioners to the
United States.
Everybody had confidence in General Burleson, and he had been
unanimously elected. But now the army did not seem to know what they
would like. Things were at sixes and sevens. Some of the men still
wanted to storm Bejar; others wanted to wait; others wanted to go home
until the regulars were organized. Even the volunteers from the United
States were dissatisfied, and claimed that Texas had called them in
under false pretences――they had been promised fighting and glory, and
they were getting nothing of the kind.
To be sure, on the next day, November 26th, there was a smart little
battle, by accident. About two o’clock in the afternoon Deaf Smith came
at a gallop into camp, with the alarm that he had spied Ugartechea, at
last, approaching Bejar from the other side, with a mule train of money
for the Mexican soldiers.
Now the camp woke up in a hurry; orders to “Fall in! Fall in!” echoed
right and left; there was a great scramble for guns and horses, and
everybody yelled “Ugartechea! All out to capture Ugartechea!” Away
sped Colonel Bowie with a troop――Deaf Smith guiding; and as fast as
they could the main army followed after, the New Orleans Grays and the
Mississippians under Captain Peacock being especially eager to show
what they could do.
When Ernest and Jim, in the Captain Dickinson company with the main
army, arrived near the place told of by Deaf Smith, the firing had
begun. Colonel Bowie’s troop already had charged, and the Mexicans were
fighting back from an arroyo, or dry stream-bed. A detachment of other
Mexicans were hastening out from Bejar, which was only a mile away; and
Colonel Bowie had been forced to turn and try to stop them.
It looked like quite a “scrimmage,” as Jim expressed.
“Forward, boys! Don’t let Bowie do it all,” urged young Captain
Dickinson.
The horses broke into a gallop; the infantry into a run; and with wild
cheers forward raced the Texan army. But the Mexicans in the arroyo had
united with the rescuing party, and both were retreating for the town.
“They’ve left their pack-mules and panniers, anyhow,” panted Jim.
“We’ll get the treasure. Hooray!”
“Hooray! Hooray!” cheered all, riding, running, and firing.
The Mexicans were dropping; some of the fallen were picked up
and carried on; others were left; the retreat became a rout, and
helter-skelter the survivors gained, just in nick of time, the shelter
of the town. It was estimated that they had lost fifty killed, and
as many wounded. No one was killed, on the Texan side, and only two
wounded.
“Who says we can’t take Bejar if we want to?” bragged Leo, as his
company joined with Jim’s and Ernest’s, and the horses puffed together.
“Toler’ble easy, toler’ble easy,” grinned Jim. “Reckon you and I and
Ernest and Sion could take it ourselves, some day when we were feeling
right pert.”
“But I didn’t see Ugartechea; did you?” demanded Ernest.
“No, Well see what’s in those mule panniers, though, I’d surely
admire to get a few _pesos_ to spend. Need it more than those Mexican
_soldados_.”
Hopes ran high, for the mule panniers (pairs of wicker baskets) looked
bulky. But when they were felt, by the officers, they felt suspiciously
soft; and when they were “hefted,” they felt suspiciously light. And
when one was opened, on the spot, it contained only freshly cut grass.
At camp was it found that they _all_ contained nothing but grass――forage
for the Cos horses. So the “Grass Fight” was this “scrimmage” dubbed,
and many were the jokes levelled at Deaf Smith.
“Shows that Cos is getting mighty hard up for fodder, anyhow,”
commented Leo, when the boys met in camp. “First he tried to get rid of
thirty horses, to save feed, and now he’s having to send out and cut
grass.”
Despite such proof of the straits of the garrison in Bejar, the Texan
army continued rather disgruntled. The excitement over the Grass Fight
soon passed. Dr. James Grant headed a scheme to march down to Matamoros
in Mexico across the Rio Grande, and capture it, and continue on. Over
200 of the men agreed to enlist under him; they said that 150 others
were coming from the United States to join them on the way, and that
several thousand Mexican patriots were waiting to help. Jim and Ernest
talked the matter over, and decided that they’d “stick,” just the same.
Sion and Leo said they’d stick, too. But the Grant plan looked very
inviting.
Then, on December 3rd, from Bejar arrived three more Americans. They
were Sam Maverick, and Mr. Holmes and John W. Smith, who, having
been prisoners all this time, had run the sentries and escaped.
They asserted that Bejar was ready to fall; the troops there were
pinched for supplies, and were so frightened that they couldn’t half
fight――didn’t want to fight, either. The way the Texans charged had
scared them half to death.
Great news was this; and when that night another council of war was
held at General Burleson’s tent, an assault seemed certainly being
planned, and daybreak of the next morning was rumored as the probable
time.
Again the camp was stirred, and little sleep was possible.
“We’re going to attack at daylight!”
“Captain Dickinson says we’re going to attack at daybreak!”
“How do you know?”
“Well, that’s the tell.”
“Haven’t had any orders, have we?”
“Don’t need ’em. We’ll just r’ar up and fight and then eat breakfast.”
“Eat grass, you mean.”
They were going to fight. They _weren’t_ going to fight. Until Jim
growled to Ernest:
“Aw, blame it all! Let’s sleep first and then fight.”
The report passed around that volunteers were to be led in three
columns, guided by Deaf Smith, John W. Smith (the engineer), and Henry
Arnold. Nearly all night the light burned in the headquarters tent,
where sat the council of war. But with dawn, when the orders to advance
should have been given, instead there came the announcement that the
attack had been postponed once more! Henry Arnold, the guide, had
disappeared, and probably had deserted, to warn the garrison!
“Take Bejar anyway, and hang Arnold!” spread the angry cry.
“Traitor! The first Texas traitor!”
“Bejar! Bejar!”
“Boys!” called a Texan, striding rapidly through the Captain Dickinson
company’s camp, “it’s all off. We’re to quit and go into winter
quarters at Goliad. Get our orders this afternoon. I’ve just learned
that straight, and I _know_.”
Ernest and Jim stared at one another.
“Oh, thunder!” gasped Jim. “Quit, and squat some more? If it hadn’t
have been for that Arnold――――! Let’s find Leo and Sion.”
They found Leo and Sion, who had heard the same news.
“I’ll go to Matamoros, then,” vowed Leo. “Or else I’ll stay home. But
you can bet that I don’t sit in that Goliad all winter.”
They agreed on Matamoros; and many were the other protests, on every
side. But sure enough, at two o’clock in the afternoon the orders were
issued for the camp to break up and march on the back trail at seven
o’clock that evening. The siege of Bejar was to be raised.
Sullenly and regretfully the men went about their tasks of preparing
to leave――when suddenly, toward sun-down, Leo came running and excited
to where Ernest and Jim sat rebelliously putting last patches on their
boots, for the prospective journey.
“Hurry up!” bade Leo. “To headquarters, quick! Arnold’s back, and a
Mexican deserter, and there’s something going on. If you don’t get
there you’ll be too late.”
Away they dashed, following the generous Leo. Before the tent of
General Burleson a considerable crowd had gathered. Sion was there,
of course; and Dick Carroll, and Henry Karnes, and Captain Dickinson,
and Captain Travis, and many others. Colonel Milam could be glimpsed,
inside the tent, where voices were arguing.
“Arnold’s all right,” informed Sion. “He was just scouting ’round,
preliminary, and met up with that Mexican lieutenant deserting to us,
and fetched him along in. The lieutenant says Bejar is our meat――busted
wide open, and Cos can’t hardly hold his men together. And they don’t
suspect any attack.”
At that moment Colonel Milam abruptly stepped out, through the tent
flaps. He faced the crowd, and snatching off his wide-brimmed hat swung
it high.
“Who will go with old Ben Milam into San Antonio?” he shouted.
XII
HOUSE TO HOUSE IN OLD BEJAR
“Who will go with old Ben Milam into San Antonio?”
A murmur welling to an eager cry answered him.
“Form in line, volunteers,” was the order.
The crowd jostled into place. Other men came running. Ernest found
himself in line beside Jim; and somewhere, down the line, were, he felt
certain, Leo and Sion.
Colonel Milam, and Frank Johnson, the acting adjutant-general, passed
along, counting off the men. There were talking and laughing and
enthusiasm. General Burleson stood in the tent flaps, looking out,
surveying.
“San Antonio for winter quarters! Not Goliad!” called several voices to
him. He smiled; evidently they all had his permission.
“Whom’ll you have for commander, boys?” asked Colonel Milam.
“You! You! Milam for commander! Ben Milam!”
And rose the shouts, widely repeated: “Milam! Milam!”
Captain Dickinson sprang to the front.
“All in favor of Ben Milam as commander to storm San Antonio step one
pace forward!”