Before 1835 was half over with, things in Texas began to look very serious indeed.
“There are those three things, boys,” spoke old Captain John Moore, a famous Indian fighter, who had ridden in from his Moore’s Retreat on the Colorado. “We won’t stand for a new constitution drawn by Santa Anna to suit his tyrannical notions; we won’t be disarmed—no, sir! And we don’t want any 4000 Mexican regular soldiers quartered over us, to spy on us and enforce Santa Anna’s laws. We want to be a free state, with our own laws and our own officers, as allowed by the constitution of 1824. We didn’t come here to form part of a one-man monarchy. Bustamante tried that on us, and failed; and Santa Anna would better not try it. That soldier business looks too much like the way the British acted, before 1776, in Boston. If Mexico doesn’t take care, there’ll be another battle of Lexington, here in Texas, and a Bunker Hill, and a Yorktown to follow.”
In Coahuila, Santa Anna had dissolved the state legislature, and had appointed a governor of his own. Texas had had nothing to say about it, and now stood alone.
In June arrived by courier more bad news; and yet, according to the war party men, not such bad news, either. Captain William B. Travis and a little company had attacked Captain Tonorio, the Mexican officer who was trying to collect revenue taxes at the port of Anahuac, had captured him, and had sent him inland to San Felipe.
Many persons did not approve of this—although everybody liked William Travis. He was a daring young man, and never had been afraid to act. It reminded Ernest of the Boston “tea party,” when the colonists had opposed the collection of the tea tax, and had seized the vessel in Boston harbor, in 1773.
Now both Texas and Mexico were aroused thoroughly. General Cos, who commanded the department of Eastern Mexico, which included Texas, dispatched a message to the Mexican officers at Anahuac, saying that a strong force was being sent there, to restore authority; at the same time he informed the Texas leaders that he would meet their commissioners and talk matters over; but his dispatches were taken from the messenger, and opened.
At San Felipe a public meeting was held, by the Texas war party; and in a speech R. M. Williamson (he who was called “Three-legged Willie”) declared: “Our country, our liberty, and our lives are all involved in the present contest between the State and the military.” A printing press at San Felipe published the speech and proceedings in a circular, and spread it broadcast.
General Cos issued another proclamation, warning Texas that it would be counted as rebellious. From San Antonio de Bejar the courtly Colonel Ugartechea, who commanded 500 soldiers there, issued his own address, assuring his friends the Texans that the proposed revolution would be a great mistake, and that the soldiers were being stationed in Texas solely as a protection to the settlers. And Colonel Dominic Ugartechea was known to Dick Carroll, and “Three-legged” Williamson, and even to Will Travis, as a brave, honorable, conscientious man.
But Ex-Governor Viesca, captured by the Santa Anna forces in Coahuila, had sent word: “Citizens of Texas, arouse yourselves, or sleep forever. Your dearest interests, your liberty, your property—nay, your very existence—depend upon the fickle will of your direst enemies. Your destruction is resolved upon, and nothing but that firmness and energy peculiar to true republicans can save you.”
Alarming words, these.