Showing posts with label Santa Anna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Santa Anna. Show all posts

Monday, March 02, 2009

Texas Independence Day

By 1 March 1836, the siege of the small Texian force at the Alamo was well under way. Travis had sent out his famous “Victory or Death” message on 24 February.

The first state government of Texas was the so-called "Permanent Council,“ organized at San Felipe in October 1935. They wanted to do little, and actually accomplished less still. They elected a temporary president, established a plan for a postal system, commissioned some privateers to control the Mexican Navy on the Gulf of Mexico, and authorized a representative to go (try to) borrow $100,000 in the United States. They then dissolved on 3 November, due to the convening of a general consultation.


The first order of business was to quibble over the nature of the brewing war and how to conduct it. The main issue was, were the Anglo-Texans ready to fight in defense of their rights as Mexican citizens under the Constitution of 1824, or to become independent from a corrupt Mexico?
This general consultation created the provisional government, with Henry Smith as Governor. San Houston of Tennessee was appointed Commander in chief of the army, such as it was, but had no funds to pay for an army. Little else of note was accomplished by the time the consultation was adjourned on 14 November.


The Provisional Government met in early January 1836 and debated endlessly about goals, ways and means, and who would be responsible for what. Unable to raise a quorum with authority to do anything definitive, the government, in effect, dissolved in chaos.

In the meanwhile, certain elements of the fledgling Texas Army were in the field. Governor Smith told Houston to try to organize the forces at Goliad. At the same time, Smith sent Buck Travis to Bexar to assist Colonel Neill in command of the Alamo. It was not known that Santa Anna was already on his way with the main force of the Mexican Army to subdue the rebellious Texians once and for all.


We have seen how matters progressed at Bexar. Travis and Bowie as co-commanders prepared the Alamo for an eventual fight, while Neill departed on family business in mid-February. On 23 February, the Mexican Army arrived at Bexar, and it became clear just how tenuous the Texian position really was.

In the meantime, the Convention of 1836 was held at Washington-on-the-Brazos. Fifty delegates, representing every settlement in Texas, had been elected on 1 February. Discussions, plans, and coalitions were undoubtedly started immediately thereafter. The convention opened on 1 March, with news of the situation at the Alamo waiting for them. Many delegates wanted to immediately recess or adjourn and march en mass to lift the siege.


George Childress led a committee to draft a Declaration of Independence. A draft was submitted the very next day, making it clear that Childress had been at work on the document well before arriving at the convention. It was largely based upon the writings of Thomas Jefferson and John Locke, and much of the language may be seen to draw from the United States Declaration of Independence. The declaration was immediately adopted with no debate at all. Thereby, on 2 March 1836, the Republic of Texas was established.



Convention delegates at once set about drawing up a Constitution. Early on 6 March, Travis’s final appeal for aid, dated 3 March, arrived. Again, sentiment was for closing down the convention to march to the Alamo. Houston convinced them to continue work on the constitution, while he rushed to Gonzales to assume command of volunteers gathering there. Soon after his arrival, word arrived that the Alamo had fallen and that Santa Anna would again be on the move.

Word traveled to Washington-on-the Brazos that the Alamo defenders were no more. It became clear in due course, though, that the delay of Santa Anna there had given this vital breathing space to the Convention. Texas was now an independent republic and had a constitution in place. Shaky as it would be, a new nation was now a fact. Six weeks later, on the boggy ground of the San Jacinto plain, Texas would become a world power. The way was now paved for the alliance of Texas with the United States, and in a startlingly short time, the USA would sprawl clear across North America.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Alamo 173 Years Ago

I'm glad I got an e-mail from friend phlegmfatale today. She mentioned her current day's topic, and also today’s blog entry by Robert at BLACKFORK blog. The two remind us that this date, in 1836, was when the Mexican tyrant Santa Anna began his siege of the Mission San Antonia de Valero at Bexar. That secularized church complex is better known to posterity simply as The Alamo. The town, Bexar, is now the city of San Antonio.
The Alamo chapel, unfinished facade, as it appeared in the 1830s and 1840s.



The major points in this story are fairly well known.
The mission-fortress was garrisoned by Colonels Bowie and Travis, co-commanding between 180 and 250 soldiers of the new Texas Army and volunteers. In late February, they were besieged by the Mexican Predient/General/Dictator Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón and some 2400 of his soldiers. The siege ended on 6 March when the walls were overrun and the defenders were all killed. The delay of the Mexican advance allowed the provisional Texas government time to write and sign a formal Texas Declaration of Independence.


Historian Lon Tinkle (1906 -- 1980) wrote the definitive popular history of this battle in 1958, entitled Thirteen Days to Glory: The Siege of the Alamo.

The battle has been studied and documented more or less regularly ever since the ashes cooled. Curiously, though, the majority of the longer, published works have been works of fiction. Mr. Tinkle‘s book was only the second full length factual study of the siege. Not all the information is undisputed. Distinguished Dallas book critic A. C. Greene, wrote that Tinkle’s book "gives the essence of the Alamo story without attempting to exhaust history's explanation", and "is more revealing of the minds and wills that were behind the fateful decision to stay on to death" than other, later treatments of the battle.

The book is still widely available and is well worth the reading.

I was at first tempted to try to recount all the high points of the siege, so far as they are known. As a voracious reader and proudly chauvinistic Texan, I have been reading all I can find on this topic for almost as long as I’ve been able to read. I know the various points of view, the controversies, the sometimes acrimonious disputes as to this point or that about the battle. For instance, it is well known and documented, but frequently glossed over, that, but for a massive and overt act of insubordination, the properly designated “Shrine of Texas Liberty” would likely have crumbled into gravel, noted only in passing as an early landmark from the days of revolution. Working on the best information available at the time, Sam Houston, military commander of Texas forces, ordered Colonel James Bowie to destroy the fortifications and to spike or carry away the artillery. Instead, Bowie, with Col. James Neill, decided to hold in place, to engage the Mexican forces for as long as possible.

While I have sufficient reference works on hand to make a pretty good job of such a recounting, I must confess that I would be doing little more than rehashing the work of better scholars than I. I have no newly located papers, letters, journals, or other sources. While well-read on the topic, I’ve made no independent studies of this already well-researched stretch of history and folklore. This being the case, I’ll content myself with recognizing the significance of certain dates for the next couple of weeks, as a reminder to all of us that there were, indeed, giants in the land in those days.

JPG


Modern appearance of the Alamo Chapel
Probably during the 1850s, while being used by the US Army, the Alamo was greatly repaired. The campanulate, or bell-shaped facade, was added to the front wall of the chapel. Until that time, the front had never been finished, and no roof had been placed.


LATE ADDITION: Since writing the above, I note that Robert at Blackfork has written another blog installment. In it, he gives much of the detail that I would have inserted over the next few days. He was first, and I’ll defer to him. Nice work, Robert.

Monday, April 21, 2008

SAN JACINTO DAY ANNIVERSARY


Texas, 1836

The Alamo, under Travis and Bowie, had fallen. The defenders of Goliad had been massacred, after what their commander, Fannin, had thought was an honorable surrender.

The provisional government of Texas had met and declared independence from Mexico, after General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna had refuted the Constitution of 1824 and set himself up as dictator. The Texas forces under Sam Houston, were in full retreat. Houston desperately tried to consolidate his resources and train his men into a semblance of an army. Santa Anna was in hot pursuit, determined to destroy those dedicated to a free Texas. Most of these were of Anglo descent, but many were Tejanos, of Spanish and Mexican Indian stock, some of whom had been in the area since the 1500s.

Santa Anna considered the fate of Mexico and his own personal fortunes inextricably bound together. The dictator, called "Tyrant" and "The Bastard," by Mexican and Anglo alike, could ill afford to allow any showing of independence on the part of the Texians, fearing that if he granted any requests, he would lose his iron-fisted control. To this end, he had ordered the disarmament of the Texas settlers in the fall of 1835. This resulted in the unthinkable act of defiance by inhabitants of Gonzales: They refused to turn in a small, antique Spanish field piece held to impress hostile Indians. They were likewise determined to hold their powder, shot and small arms. The settlers took a bed sheet and black paint and made a banner: A cannon tube, a single, five-pointed star, and the words, "COME AND TAKE IT." It may have been the first use of the Lone Star symbol on a Texas flag, and under this crude device, these recalcitrant individuals successfully repelled a Mexican force sent to confiscate the munitions.
Gonzales Battle Flag
The largely symbolic victory at Gonzales was the prologue to armed conflict between the settlers in Texas and the Tyrant's forces. It presaged the Texians' truly significant expulsion of the Mexican garrison from San Antonio de Bexar in December. Santa Anna's reprisal took the form of the complete annihilation of the Texians defending the Alamo and San Antonio the following March.

Houston knew his enemy. He realized that he needed to capture Santa Anna and compel him to order Mexican forces out of Texas, because, in the long run, the larger, better disciplined armies would inevitably overcome the willing but unorganized Texians. Houston's awareness of the situation may have lacked strategic coherence, but at some point it became clear to him that tactically, he would have the upper hand if he could constrict the portion of the Mexican forces personally led by Santa Anna before they could join with other, stronger columns coming overland from Mexico.


To this end, Houston led his rag-tag army to the area bounded by the confluence of the Brazos and San Jacinto Rivers, and Buffalo Bayou. On 20 April 1836, both forces arrived upon the plain of San Jacinto. The low, marshy area became an island when Houston sent Deaf Smith and his scouts to destroy Vince's Bridge. Some say the wood was too green or too wet to burn properly. Others say Smith decided to chop down the bridge, to keep from alerting the nearby Mexican forces by the smoke. In any case, this robbed Santa Anna's forces of a valuable withdrawal route.


Houston had planned to allow his little army, probably numbering fewer than 800, but certainly well under one thousand, a period of rest and "organization," after the lengthy chase. The battle plans called for an attack on the 22nd, but sentiment was for immediate attack, and Houston determined to strike while morale and the blood lust were high. It mattered not that they were seriously outnumbered. The actual numbers of the enemy are in dispute, even today. Probably 1,500 Mexican troops. Possibly as many as 2,500 had arrived. But if they were as few as 800, these were organized, blooded, veteran troops. Few were recruits. Most had been blooded at Zacatecas and at Bexar and at dozens of battles in the internal strife of Mexico. Say what you will about the Tyrant or the government of Mexico, the typical veteran Mexican soldado was tough, a good fighter, and, by the standards of the day, pretty well equipped and organized. Even had the numbers been equal, the Texians would have faced a daunting task.


The Texian settlers, whatever their origins, seem to have been long on guitars, banjos and mandolins, and quite short on instruments of martial music. There was no bugle, no trumpet, and not a bagpipe in the crowd. There was a German with a fife, and a Negro freeman had a drum. Two other musicians came forward, probably with flutes or fifes. The four knew no military or patriotic music in common. Houston soon had them practicing a popular air of the day, an off-color little ditty called, "Come to the Bower."

San Jacinto Battle Flag


The small army had no field artillery for support, save for two small tubes donated by Ohioans, and which had been shipped through Galveston, lacking any sort of mounts. Makeshift carriages had been cobbled together while on the march, and these two little four-pounders, christened "The Twin Sisters," were ready for action that afternoon.


The history books tell the tale very eloquently: T. R. Fehrenbach, in his work, LONE STAR, gives the order of battle, and the commanders of the various units. There have been entire tomes written about The Battle (The capitalization is intentional) and the preceding events and the aftermath and the long term results. Read and learn of Lamar's sixty cavalry and Burleson's First Regiment and Hockley with the two little field pieces. And the rest . . . .


It was 4:00 p.m. In the bright sunlight, there was still some mist rising off the sluggish bayou. Houston, up on Saracen, made no memorable speech. Those nearby said he merely told them to hold their fire and make it count. He drew his sword and yelled, "Forward--Texas!”


The music screeched out, "Won't you come to the bow'r I have shaded for you?" The line surged forward and men bent their backs to moving the Twin Sisters over the moist, soft, soil. They went up the gentle rise and came into full view of the Mexican camp. There were shouts and a few musket shots by sentries, still hundreds of yards distant. At about this point, someone, probably Colonel Sidney Sherman, first screamed out, "Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!" Those around him took up the cry, and it swept the line, and seemed to overwhelm the gunfire.


The twenty-first of April, 1836. Four o'clock in the afternoon. The rag-tag, poorly outfitted, nearly unorganized Army of the new Republic of Texas, eight hundred strong, charged headlong into a fortified position held by twice their number of the finest military force in the Western Hemisphere - - - and whipped them to a fare-thee-well!


It is said the battle lasted eighteen minutes, but the slaughter went on for hours. Every Texian present had lost a relative or close friend or lodge brother in the past few months. Frustration and privation, fatigue and hunger, dedication and blood lust - - - All were vented for hours, until individuals began reckoning, "There's been enough killing for one day."


The butcher's bill:


Mexican dead 630

Wounded and prisoner 200

Unwounded prisoners 430


Texian killed or later died of wounds: 9

Wounded but surviving 25


The many prisoners taken, thankfully, included the Emperor-General, His Excellency Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. Brought before Sam Houston, who was grievously wounded in the leg, Santa Anna readily agreed to sign orders that all Mexican military forces immediately withdraw from combat and return to Mexico, pending a formal treaty. The following month, at the Treaty of Velasco, the war ended, and Mexico, at least temporarily, recognized the Republic of Texas.


And the remainder of the story? In February, 1846, Texas was annexed by the United States, bringing in parts of present-day Oklahoma, Kansas, New Mexico, Wyoming, and Colorado.


Texas after San Jacinto

Mexico, while disputing the border, had been grudgingly tolerant of the Texas Republic, but protested when the U. S. A. moved troops to the Rio Grande. The Mexican-American War ensued, a war indeed a story unto itself, and one which would not have been fought but for the Texian victory at San Jacinto. The Mexican War formally ended with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, ratified in July, 1848. This resulted in the U. S. purchase of California, Nevada, Utah, parts of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Wyoming. In short, The Battle gave substance to the Manifest Destiny of the United States of America.


Territory ceded by Mexico to the USA

The Battle of San Jacinto has been described as one of the ten watershed battles of history, in long term results. Waterloo, Agincourt, Tours, Lepanto, Yorktown, Gettysburg, Stalingrad, Kursk-- Never to belittle the sacrifice of life or the suffering at any of these—— San Jacinto, with under nine hundred casualties total, ranks in significance with them.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One must always wonder: At what point has a course of conduct inexorably begun? At what point might it have been stopped? Just ponder - -


If General Gage had decided NOT to seize the munitions at Lexington - - - -


If Santa Anna had NOT demanded that little gun at Gonzales - - - -


And, mainly, if either place had not been populated by FREE PEOPLE who cared more about their freedom than possibly getting hurt.

GOD BLESS TEXAS! GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! And may The Almighty forever bless and protect freedom-loving people everywhere.



--With due acknowledgment to T. R. Fehrenbach, Allen Damron, Tim Henderson, and others. - - - JPG