Part 16

“I left Gonzales night before last,” answered Ernest. “Dick Carroll (he’s my father) left, I mean, to carry Colonel Travis’s dispatch to San Felipe, and I rode with him because he was sick. Then at San Felipe we had to rest, but we sent the message on up here.”

“Yes,” soberly nodded the general. “We have the message. It made quick time――remarkably quick. But what of Gonzales? Are the people rallying? Did you spread the word along the road? How did you come?”

“By Burnam’s, sir,” replied Ernest. “The settlers are going to Gonzales as fast as they can get ready. Captain John Smith was getting a company together at Gonzales when we left and I expect they’ve started for the Alamo, but they won’t be very many. Colonel Travis’s messenger said that Colonel Bonham had been sent to Goliad, too, for help from Colonel Fannin.”

The general excitedly rose and stamped back and forth. He talked as he strode.

“Slowly, slowly,” he declared. “We must take time. It will be madness for small bodies to attempt the Alamo now. They will go to destruction. Fannin himself is liable to be cut off, and Goliad will fall. We must organize. We must have discipline, and a commander-in-chief. The convention must act. This tragedy would have been averted if Colonel Neill had obeyed orders and evacuated. Bexar is too remote on the frontier to be properly defended with the forces at our disposal yet. Now what are we to do, what are we to do? First, we must have harmony, and a concerted plan of action. As for Sam Houston, he is willing to do anything――to lead or to follow, if that will save Texas. Boy,” he continued, pausing, to Ernest, “you may tell your people at Gonzales that Sam Houston is at the service of Texas, whether as a general or a private soldier. The enemy shall be met and defeated.”

“I thought I’d stay for the convention,” hazarded Ernest. “Dick Carroll asked me to.”

“You look tired,” mused the general, surveying him. “You’ve had a hard ride and have done well. Do so, then; stay, and you will see history made. And, by Heaven, when we march against the enemy you will see more history made.”

This was Sunday evening. The convention was called for Tuesday, for February of 1836 had twenty-nine days. To-night, and Monday, Ernest saw a number of delegates that he knew. Matthew Caldwell, of Gonzales, was here――“Old Paint” the Indian fighter; and so was Sam Maverick, of Bejar; and both were near crazed with anxiety over the fate of their families and their homes. But the convention must act, and order be restored, or all would indeed be lost. Lorenzo de Zavala, the ex-president of the State of Mexico, was here; and Antonio Navarro, formerly of Bejar, a brother of Angel Navarro the political chief, whose house had been shattered in the taking of Bejar, but a friend of Texas; and Francisco Ruiz, another patriot; and Colonel Thomas Rusk, who had commanded cavalry at the siege of Bejar; and others――not omitting Sam Houston.

Who should blow in, Monday morning, but Dick Carroll, after a night’s ride. Ernest, for one, welcomed him gladly.

“They’re fighting at the Alamo,” announced Dick, to his listeners. “I’ve brought another dispatch from Travis, date of twenty-fourth. Delivered it to Governor Smith. Expect we-all’ll hear it read at the convention. It’s a humdinger. Travis is holding out, and he says he’s _going_ to hold out. Boys, there’s some man! You’ll be proud when you hear his words. Captain Martin fetched it out of the Alamo to Gonzales; Smither brought it on to San Felipe; and I carried it up here. Wanted to come anyway. Cos, they say, is out there; he’s broken his parole. And Sesma, and Santa Anna, and General Vincente Filisola, the Italian: the best officers in the Mexican army. But Travis and Bowie will keep them busy. At least,” he added, “they’ll try to. Martin says the Gonzales company is going straight in. That will help――a little. Haven’t heard from Fannin, have you?”

All day Monday the crisis at the Alamo lay heavy upon the hearts of those Texas citizens gathered in Washington on the Brazos. There was no word from Colonel Fannin, and no further word from Colonel Travis. Still, among the near 200 men collected in Washington, nobody seemed disposed to leave and join the rendezvous at Gonzales. Hanging around the convention hall and the tavern and the army headquarters, they were waiting for the reorganization of Texas――for some declaration to be made, a government to be re-established, a commander to be appointed, and an army provided for.

They somewhat reminded Ernest of the crowd that he had read waited around the old State House in Philadelphia, in July of 1776, when the Independence of the United States was being declared; but they also appeared all at sea to know what to do, as if they were stunned. Meanwhile boyish Colonel Travis, and the brave Jim Bowie, and probably Colonel Bonham, and young Captain Dickinson with his wife and baby, and Davy Crockett, and the other 145, were defending the Alamo against 2000, maybe 3000, of the best troops of Mexico, led by their best generals!

The members took their seats on this Tuesday morning. There were about sixty delegates, and they occupied all the benches. The rear of the room was packed with spectators and listeners, standing, and the throng pressed against the windows and door. Ernest, being a boy, might have lost out, had not Captain Matt Caldwell, who was a delegate, taken him forward and placed him in the front rank where he could both see and hear. Dick Carroll could be depended upon to care for himself.

The first thing done was the election of officers. Mr. Richard Ellis, of Pecan Point, the Red River district, was chosen president of the convention; and Mr. H. S. Kimball, secretary. President Ellis made a short address; and then he announced that while the committees were at work, he would read a document that had been handed to him――“of the most important character ever received by any assembly of men”! It was the dispatch brought by Dick Carroll.

COMMANDANCY OF THE ALAMO, Bejar, Feb’y 24th, 1836.

To the People of Texas & all Americans _in the World_.

Fellow-citizens & compatriots:

I am besieged, by a thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have sustained a continual Bombardment & cannonade for 24 hours & have not lost a man. The enemy has demanded a surrender at discretion, otherwise the garrison are to be put to the sword, if the fort is taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon shot, & our flag still waves proudly from the walls. _I shall never surrender or retreat. Then_, I call on you in the name of Liberty, of Patriotism, & of everything dear to the American character, to come to our aid, with all dispatch. The enemy is receiving reinforcements daily & will no doubt increase to three or four thousand in four or five days. If this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible & die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor & that of his country. VICTORY OR DEATH.

WILLIAM BARRET TRAVIS, Lt.-Col., com’d’t.

P. S.――The Lord is on our side. When the enemy appeared in sight we had not three bushels of corn. We have since found in deserted houses 80 or 90 bushels & got into the walls 20 or 30 head of Beeves.

TRAVIS.

“What flag is that he mentioned?” asked somebody behind Ernest. “The Lone Star flag or the Independence flag you fellows had at the siege?”

“I reckon maybe,” answered the voice of Dick Carroll, who also had elbowed to the front. “They’re out there somewhere, like as not. But Smither said Captain Martin said they’d raised the regular Mexican green, white and red tri-color, with ‘1824’ on the middle of it, signifying the constitution.”

However, Chairman Ellis was about to read again.

“I will now read the endorsements from the express carriers, on the back,” he said. “The first:

“Since the above was written I heard a very heavy cannonade during the whole day. Think there must have been an attack on the Alamo. We were short of ammunition when I left. Hurry all the men you can forth. When I left there were but 150 men determined to do or die. To-morrow I leave for Bexar with what men I can. Almonte is there. The troops are commanded by General Sesma.

‘ALBERT MARTIN.’”

Captain Martin was this, of Gonzales. And he was going back!

“Now the second endorsement,” continued Richard Ellis. “As follows:

“I hope every one will Rendeves [gather] at Gonzales as soon as Possible as the Brave soldiers are suffering; do not forget the powder is very scarce and should not be delad one moment.

‘L. SMITHER.’”

Chairman Ellis refolded the dispatch and passed it aside to the secretary. Later it was read again by many present.

A hush, thrilled with the murmur and stir of admiration, rage, and helplessness followed upon the reading. Several men attempted excitedly to speak; but the chairman motioned them down.

“You have heard the dispatch,” he said, huskily. “You know what is before us. The delegates will now proceed to the business of the consultation.”

Committees were appointed; and the convention adjourned, for the day.

It was a grim evening and night in Washington. The name of the heroic Travis was on every lip and in every heart was the fear lest a great Mexican army already had overwhelmed the Alamo and were sweeping across for the settlements eastward. And Gonzales, Ernest realized, would be the first to fall victim.

“Houston! Why doesn’t Houston go?”

“He can’t. He’s a delegate.”

“But he’s commander-in-chief.”

“No, he isn’t. He had to quit when the governor was ousted. The council was ag’in ’em both.”

“Who’s our head, then? Why doesn’t the convention reappoint him? We’ve got to have somebody, quick.”

“I reckon it will. But maybe he won’t accept. Wouldn’t blame him any. He’s been treated right shabbily.”

“He’ll take it,” assured Dick Carroll. “There’s nothing small or picayune about Sam Houston. And fighting for independence, under Houston, we’ll lick Santa Anna out of his boots.”

Nevertheless, upon the forms sitting enveloped in their blankets, or lying to try to sleep, rested a gloom not of the night alone. In the headquarters of General Houston a light burned until almost morning.

After breakfast the reassembling of the convention was eagerly awaited. No more news from Colonel Travis had arrived; but report stated that during the night the delegates had drawn up a declaration of independence, and that it was about ready for adoption. The report proved true. Soon after the convention was called to order, President Ellis arose, a mass of foolscap paper in his hand, and stated that he would have the secretary read the report of the committee upon an announcement of the Republic of Texas.

“The Unanimous Declaration of Independence made by the Delegates of the People of Texas in General Convention at the Town of Washington, on the 2nd day of March, 1836,” read Secretary Kimball.

“When a government has ceased to protect the lives, liberty and property of the people, from whom its legitimate powers are derived, and for the advancement of whose happiness it was instituted, and so far from being a guarantee for the enjoyment of those inestimable and inalienable rights, becomes an instrument in the hands of evil rulers for their oppression: When the Federal Republican Constitution of their country, which they have sworn to support, no longer has a substantial existence, and the whole nature of their government has been forcibly changed, without their consent, from a restricted federative republic, composed of sovereign states, to a consolidated, central, military despotism....” continued Secretary Kimball, in a long introduction; then “self-preservation” and “a right towards themselves and a sacred obligation to their posterity” warrant a people “to abolish such government” and to create another safer and happier.

“Nations, as well as individuals, are amenable for their acts to the public opinion of mankind [proceeded the declaration]. A statement of a part of our grievances is, therefore, submitted to an impartial world, in justification of the hazardous but unavoidable step now taken of severing our political connection with the Mexican people, and assuming an independent attitude among the nations of the earth.

“The Mexican government had pledged the colonists liberty of action under a republic and a constitution, and now had submitted it to a military despotism under General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. It had refused to grant an appeal, according to the constitution, for statehood separate from unfriendly Coahuila. It had imprisoned Stephen Austin. It had refused to provide trial by jury. It had provided no schools or other means of public education. It had allowed the soldiers to oppress the citizens. It had forced the state congress of Texas and Coahuila to dissolve. It had demanded the surrender of citizens, for an imprisonment without a trial. It had seized trading vessels. It had interfered with religious liberty. It had demanded the delivery of private arms. It was invading Texas with an army, to drive the people from their homes. It was inciting the Indians to attack the colonists. It was, and ever had been, a “weak, corrupt, and tyrannical government.”

“These, and other grievances, were patiently borne by the people of Texas [continued Mr. Kimball, reading] until they reached that point at which forbearance ceases to be a virtue. We then took up arms in defence of the national constitution. We appealed to our Mexican brethren for assistance. Our appeal has been made in vain. Though months have elapsed, no sympathetic response has yet been heard from the Interior. We are, therefore, forced to the melancholy conclusion that the Mexican people have acquiesced in the destruction of their liberty, and the substitution therefor of a Military Government――that they are unfit to be free and incapable of self-government.

“The necessity of self-preservation, therefore, now decrees our eternal political separation.

“We, therefore [and the reader’s voice rose firmly], the delegates, with plenary powers, of the people of Texas, in solemn convention assembled, appealing to a candid world for the necessities of our condition, do hereby resolve and declare that our political connection with the Mexican nation has forever ended, and that the _people of Texas_ do now constitute a _free sovereign and independent republic_, and are fully invested with all the rights and attributes which properly belong to independent nations; and, conscious of the rectitude of our intentions, we fearlessly and confidently commit the issue to the decision of the Supreme Arbiter of the destinies of Nations.”

The secretary evidently had finished the reading of the declaration. He turned and resumed his seat at his little table on the platform. There was an instant of dead silence, while the people present tried to realize that Texas was no longer to be attached to Mexico.

“You have heard the report of the committee,” addressed President Ellis, his voice clear. “Are there any objections?”

A shuffle of impatient feet had begun; and――――

“No! No!” swelled the shout, in a great volley, from delegates and visitors alike.

“The chair hears no objections. All in favor of adopting the report as it stands will signify by saying ‘Aye.’”

“Aye! Aye!”

“The report, declaring Texas a free and independent republic, is adopted,” announced President Ellis. “The delegates will please step forward and sign the declaration.”

One by one, in a constant file, the delegates advanced to the secretary’s table upon the platform, and attached their signatures to the paper. The president first; and in due order Antonio Navarro, and Captain Caldwell, and de Zavala, and Colonel Rusk, and the towering form of Sam Houston, and all――fifty-eight in number.

Now indeed had the silence been broken, and well broken. From the crowd in the rear of the hall and pressing outside pealed cheer upon cheer, echoed from beyond as fast sped the news. Hats were swung, guns spoke. Ernest, on tiptoe, swung his hat and added his shrill voice to the clamor. Near him somebody was singing, and the chant spread.

For this we are determined, that Texas shall be free; And TEXAS TRIUMPHANT our watchword shall be!

And 200 miles to the west, young William Travis and his little band were fighting desperately for this new Republic of which they were destined never to be told; while Colonel Fannin’s wagons had broken down and he had been forced back into Goliad again.

XV

THE SIGNAL GUNS OF THE ALAMO

Little more was done this day. It was reported that the committees were busy preparing a constitution for the new Republic of Texas and revising plans for an army and navy. Most of the delegates remained in the convention hall, where the committees were meeting; and the visitors waited outside, under the trees. The office of governor and council had now passed out of existence, so the quarrel between the two parties need not be considered.

General Houston was closeted with a committee, the main part of the day, discussing the military measures. But in the afternoon there was read a short address from him to the people of Texas.

CONVENTION HALL, March 2, 1836.

War is raging on the frontiers. Bexar is besieged by two thousand of the enemy under command of General Sesma. Reinforcements are on the march to unite with the besieging army. By the last report our force at Bexar was only one hundred and fifty men. The citizens of Texas must rally to the aid of our army or it will perish. Let the citizens of the East march to the combat. The enemy must be driven from our soil or desolation will accompany their march upon us. _Independence is declared._ It must be maintained. Immediate action, united with valor, can alone achieve our great work. The services of all are forthwith required in the field.

SAM HOUSTON, _Commander-in-Chief of the Army_.

P. S.――It is rumored that the enemy are on their march to Gonzales, and that they have entered the colonies. The fate of Bexar is unknown. The country must and shall be defended. The patriots of Texas are _appealed to in behalf of their bleeding country_.

The postscript sounded bad, and Ernest turned with whitened face to Dick.

“Do you think they have attacked Gonzales, Dick?”

“No, I don’t. They wouldn’t attack Gonzales until they’ve taken Bejar. We can’t believe all the rumors we hear. The whole country’s panicky. If Fannin marches through and gets in with his men, he and Travis will hold the Alamo ag’in all Mexico. Reckon, too, by this time the Brazos and Colorado people are rallying into Gonzales, and Captain Martin has led a bunch to help Travis. And there are a hundred and more able-bodied men right here who ought to organize and go.”

“Why don’t they go, then, Dick? Why don’t we all go?”

“Chiefly because we’re sorter at sea, yet. Most of the men have families at home. Who’d protect _them_? And where are our leaders? Fannin and Johnson are like as not cut off, down at Goliad. Travis and Bowie are yonder in the Alamo. And here’s Sam Houston, waiting instructions.”

“But he signs himself commander-in-chief, Dick.”

“Yes, a commander-in-chief without an army. Besides, he was commander-in-chief under the old makeshift government, formed to tide us along. Now we’ve got a new one, a republic, and all officers’ll have to be sworn in over again. He’ll be appointed, though, as soon as plans for the army are drawn. You know what day this is, don’t you?”

“Yes. March second.”

“And Sam Houston’s birthday! Declaration of Independence was adopted on Sam Houston’s birthday, and that’s a good sign.”

The next day dragged, filled with wild rumors, while the convention still prepared for defense and the operation of the new government. It seemed to be the great hope of everybody at Washington that Sam Houston would be reappointed to the head of the army at once; about all the men appeared to think that he would save Texas from Santa Anna, if anyone could.

A large crowd were already gathered about the hall when on the next morning, of Friday, March 4, Ernest hastened to learn what was up. But the program seemed to be devoted mainly to the report of the military committee. It recommended a strong militia, and granted 1280 acres of land to every volunteer who served throughout the war; and there was to be a major-general in command of the whole army――regulars, volunteers and militia――when in the field.

This was rather dull reading. General Houston was not present, but having wormed his way out for a breath of air Ernest saw him on the tavern porch. A letter had just been handed to him by a horseman, and, watched by a group of by-standers who had collected, he was reading it.

“Gentlemen, a letter from Colonel Fannin, to a friend, and forwarded, in a copy, for my perusal,” he announced, as Ernest sidled near. “It is the last news from Goliad, date of February twenty-eight. I hope that the news from the Alamo will be no worse. I will read an extract from it, which indicates the spirit of a brave man. A Mexican force has already advanced upon him, and it is unlikely that he can effect a juncture with Travis. However, he says:

“‘I have about four hundred and twenty men here, and if I can get provisions in to-morrow or next day, can maintain myself against any force. I will never give up the ship while there is a pea in the ditch. If I am whipped it will be well done, and you may never expect to see me. I hope to see all Texans in arms soon. If not, we shall lose our homes, and must go east of the Trinity for awhile.’”

“Signed,” continued the general, ‘J. W. Fannin, Jr.’”

“Fannin makes only the one error in that letter,” spoke Colonel George Hockley, who was the general’s aide. “A man who will ‘never give up the ship’ can be killed but he can’t be whipped.”

“If the Alamo can hold out until we relieve it, there will be no danger to Fannin,” mused the general. “And if he will obey the orders of his superiors, whoever they may be,――――”

But a sudden shout from the convention hall interrupted him. The cries swelled, spreading to the crowd outside the door.

“Houston! Houston! Speech! Speech!”

A man came running.

“You’re wanted inside the hall, general,” he said. “You’ve been elected commander-in-chief, on first ballot; fifty-five votes for you, only one against.”

“I accept,” remarked the general, solemnly. “I will be there directly, but this is a time for acting, not for talking.”

He strode for the convention hall, and most of the group with him. Ernest squirmed in. The general appeared on the rude platform, and spoke briefly, thanking the convention and the people of Texas for the honor paid to him. Scarcely had he concluded when a delegate arose.

“I move that it be the sense of this convention that Major-General Sam Houston immediately depart for the army, or resign.”

A storm of cheers and hisses followed. The general waited. He levelled his finger at the delegate, and answered for himself.

“I trust that the gentleman will withdraw his motion. In that belief I will state that my purpose is to start for the army on the morrow morning, and I will be glad _to have the gentleman’s company_!”

What a round of cheers and laughter now resounded!

“I withdraw my motion,” stammered the delegate, much confused by the unexpected challenge and the uproar, and sat down.