The Lone Star Reloaded Series Box Set

by Drew McGunn

  Will returned the hug with his own bear hug and then held the boy at arm’s length, willing his words to be true, “I’ll be back soon, son.”

  As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, the prospect of leaving his son in the company of the Seguin children didn’t seem fair, but, as he kept his horse moving forward in the center of the trail, he couldn’t keep the thought out of his mind that there was never a good time for a parent to ride off to war, leaving a child to face an uncertain future.

  When the little army stopped for lunch, about twelve miles north of San Antonio, Will climbed down from his horse and grabbed a meal with several officers. As they talked, one mentioned the date was the 6th of March 1837. Will was struck by the fact it was a year to the day after the Alamo had fallen in the history he remembered, but would never be here. He looked at the well-equipped and uniformed men around him and compared them to the ragtag force which had defended the Rio Grande and Nueces Rivers from Santa Anna’s professional army. “We have come a long way,” Will said to no one. With lunch over, he mounted his horse and led his command northward.

  If things went according to plan, Major Caldwell would meet Will’s column at the Ranger compound, Fort Bee, on the Brazos River, where the Bosque flowed into it, with 120 of his Rangers. A battalion of militia cavalry had been assembled at Columbus a week earlier and should be waiting for his command at the bend in the Colorado River, where the army’s quartermaster company had stationed a half dozen heavy-laden supply wagons.

  The plan was simple. The militia battalion’s purpose was to secure the army’s supply line. Even though supplies had been pre-positioned at Fort Bee, Will was under no illusion that more supplies would be needed to keep his army in the field. The militia would hold a few locations between the Colorado River and the Comancheria, and would also provide mounted escorts for supply wagons moving behind his column.

  Any doubt Will may have harbored about the army’s ability to quickly cover ground, fell away as it marched north. The army’s training was paying dividends. Three days after leaving the Alamo, the army was camped along the Colorado river, eighty miles to the north. Six days after that, on the 15th of March, Will’s column arrived at Fort Bee, where they met Major Caldwell’s command of Rangers. Each Texas Ranger carried one of the new revolver pistols and from looking at their weaponry, the pistols had already seen plenty of action. Additionally, Sam Houston came through, and roused the Cherokee to field a Ranger company too, and they came with another thirty men.

  While waiting for some of the supplies to arrive, Will held a council of war. Attending were the executive officer for the infantry battalion, Major Payton Wyatt, Major Caldwell, and Captain Seguin. During the earlier planning stages, Will decided to leave Johnston in command of the Alamo, and bring his second in command, Wyatt. They decided to spend the next few days integrating Caldwell’s Rangers into several tactical scenarios, to allow the Rangers to adjust to Will’s force.

  When he was satisfied the mixed command was ready, on the morning of the 21st of March, Will led his army of more than five hundred men back into the Comancheria.

  Chapter 8

  By the eighth night, Will was getting used to the long, nightly marches. Since leaving Fort Bee, Will’s force followed the meandering path of the Brazos River to the northwest. Caldwell’s Ranger companies, working in tandem with the Apache scouts and the Cherokee Rangers, scouted ahead of Will’s Infantry, while Seguin’s cavalry covered the column’s flanks as they snaked along the river each night. According to Flacco, who had returned to lead the Apaches despite his permanent limp, most Comanche bands camped along the many rivers crisscrossing the Comancheria. As the sun rose on the morning of the ninth day, with the command more than 120 miles into the Comancheria, Will called a meeting with Majors Caldwell and Wyatt, as well as Captain Seguin and Flacco.

  Will was effusive in his praise. “I can’t say enough good things about our Apache allies and Cherokee Rangers. Both have impressed the hell out of me by the way they have aided your Rangers, Matt, in screening our main column.”

  Caldwell smiled wanly, stifling a yawn. “General, I know the Cherokee ain’t plains Indians, like the Comanche or Flacco’s people, but I want you to know that as scouts go, a fair number of them are better than many of my Rangers. Once we’ve done whipped the Comanche, I’d think mighty kindly on you if you was to ask Congress to expand the Frontier Battalion to include a full company of Cherokees.”

  Will spread his hands, “From your lips to God’s ears, Matt. Getting Congress to authorize another company of Rangers may be a sticking point. You’ve got no idea how hard I had to fight to get Congress to authorize the supplies we needed for our present campaign. What about spreading thirty or forty through your existing companies, though?”

  Caldwell scratched at his week-old beard, scowling as he considered Will’s idea. As he pondered it, his features softened, and he replied, “It might could be a good idea, General. I got me some excellent men under my command, but I do believe they might learn a thing or three from adding a few Cherokee into each of the companies.” He paused and gave Flacco a long, hard stare, which the Apache returned in equal measure. Eventually he continued, “Might be, some of Flacco’s braves might want to join too.”

  Flacco’s stare remained fixed on the Ranger, but he replied in Spanish. With a twinkle in his eye, Seguin quickly translated, “Flacco says his braves might be able to teach Caldwell’s women how to be warriors.”

  Caldwell’s eyes grew wide with surprise before he burst out laughing, doubling up with mirth. Will wasn’t sure he saw the hard-bitten Ranger wipe a tear away when he said, “Like as not, Flacco, your boys could. The offer still stands.”

  He turned his attention back to Will and said, “I know a few of my boys will throw Texas-sized conniption fits, because the Indians ain’t white enough, but hell, I already got me a few Mexicans serving in my companies what can outride and outshoot most of my other boys. When it comes to the Ranger whose got my back, General, I’d rather have the best. When I scratch a Ranger’s skin, what I expect to see is the mettle of his courage.” Caldwell yawned again and took his leave. Part of his Rangers acted as mounted pickets throughout the day, and he still needed to make sure they were in place before he could rest.

  As Caldwell moved off, Juan Seguin smirked and said, “General, you are the sly one, you are.”

  Will looked at Seguin quizzically, “What do you mean, Juan?”

  “If you get your way, the Rangers, they’ll be the frog in cool water, not noticing the fire under the pot, as it warms the water, until its eventually boiling.”

  Will wasn’t sure where Seguin was going with it, but the captain continued, “In a couple of years you’ll have the Rangers completely mixed, with Anglos, Tejanos, and Indians serving next to each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn all of us into abolitionists.”

  Will wasn’t sure he saw the connection and asked about it. Seguin happily explained, “On the surface, there’s no evident connection, but below it, I see where you’re going. During the Revolution, at the Rio Grande and Nueces battles, all of the infantry were white men, while my company of cavalry were all Tejano. You’ve already done it with my cavalry, when you reorganized the army last fall, and half of both companies are Tejano and the other half is Anglo. I have no doubt you’d have done the same with the infantry, except there aren’t many Tejano volunteers who want to serve. But that’ll change, and I’ve no doubt, you’ll slide them into the existing companies.”

  Will finally realized where Seguin was taking the conversation and smiled coyly at the captain. “Juan, you of all people should understand how Texians like yourself benefit from such an arrangement.”

  Seguin snorted, “Texian now? When did I go from being a Tejano to a Texian?”

  Will patted him on the back as he spread his blanket roll on the ground, “To me, they’re not exclusive of each other.”

  Will wasn’t sure if Seguin bought his arg
ument, but as the Tejano captain went to check on his men, Will heard him whistling a merry tune.

  Will thought, “This is good. When we expand our infantry I’ll make sure we recruit from all of our immigrant communities, whether they’re originally from Mexico, Ireland, or Germany. Hell, maybe even go out of my way to recruit from among the Cherokee, too.”

  ***

  Will stood before a group of students, spinning the classroom’s globe. “Can anyone find Iraq on the globe here?”

  He was halfway through his semester of student teaching history. Few of the students in his class could have found the country on the globe. Despite his love for history, he felt a real frustration with the lack of interest on the students’ part.

  With no takers, he lowered the world map from its spring roller and pointed to the middle east. “Next to Iraq is Iran. Can anyone tell me the ancient name for Iran?” Still, no takers.

  He heard what sounded like a firecracker, and he turned his head searching for the sound. More firecrackers exploded.

  Will was shaken awake, with the image of the classroom fading into the recesses of his memories. His wide brimmed hat fell from covering his face, revealing an agitated Major Wyatt standing over him. Although the Major’s body was blocking the direct sunlight, Will could tell the sun was at its apex in the sky. He heard a distant crack of a gunshot shatter the stifling silence of the prairie. Wyatt said, “There’s trouble behind us. It’s some of our supply wagons, a few miles back. One of our Apache scouts saw the Comanche riding toward them.”

  Major Caldwell ran over to where they stood. He was strapping his gun belt around his waist as he ran. “General, I’ve got a company ready to ride. I’ll lead ‘em out!”

  Will waved him along as the Ranger ran to his horse. Turning around he saw Major Wyatt who had collared the battalion’s bugler. He called out, “Major, sound assembly. Get the men into a defensive perimeter!”

  The Infantry formed a loose perimeter, each company defending a side of the square, in the open order skirmish tactics in which they were trained. The two artillery pieces were in the center of the square, unlimbered and ready to fire. But time passed slowly for Will as he reached into his vest pocket frequently, looking at his pocket watch to check the time. The occasional faint sound of gunfire echoed in the distance.

  Nearly two hours passed before a solitary Ranger galloped back into camp. When he saw Will and the other officers, he sawed on the reins and headed toward them. “Gen’ral, we whupped ‘em and whupped ‘em good. There must have been forty or more Comanche that attacked our supply wagons. We had to have killed a dozen or more afore they took to showin’ us the daylight between them and their saddles.”

  Nearby soldiers, hearing the news, cheered. Will was tempted to let the men celebrate, but as Major Wyatt and the other officers restored order and refocused their attention at the prairie around them, Will decided discipline was more important. If there were any Comanche observing his command, there was no sign of them and Caldwell arrived back at camp with his men an hour after his messenger. He maneuvered his horse through the skirmish line of infantry and came up to Will, and gave a casual salute. “General Travis, the supplies will be here by this evening. The Comanche caught the waggoneers and militia by surprise. Ten were killed and another four were wounded by the time we arrived. If we hadn’t caught the Comanche by surprise, they would have looted and burned the wagons. Although the Comanche retreated with their wounded and some of their dead, I think we killed seven or eight warriors and probably wounded an equal number.”

  Will nodded, accepting the discrepancy in casualties between the excited messenger and Caldwell’s calm report. “That was well done, Matt. I want our Apache scouts to see if they can follow whatever trail the Comanche leave. Tonight, we’ll follow it and God willing, they’ll lead us to a Comanche camp.”

  The Apache scouts followed the trail left by the retreating Comanche warriors, and by the time the sun dipped below the western horizon, Will’s command followed behind their Apache allies.

  Despite being driven away from the wagon train by the unexpected arrival of the Rangers, the Comanche warriors were confident as they retreated. Yes, they were learning to hate the Rangers and their dreaded pistol which fired many times. Time honored tactics which used to work when fighting the white devils were no longer effective. But as these young warriors traveled across the prairie they gave little thought to pursuit. This was the Comancheria. This was their land and they were the undisputed masters. Older warriors, more experienced in fighting these new Texian interlopers would have urged more caution, and watched for pursuit. But this raid, undertaken by youths and young men, were overconfident when they returned to their camp along the banks of the Brazos River.

  The Apache who followed the bloodied warband never approached close enough to be seen, but Flacco’s scouts easily followed the fresh hoof prints across the prairie, until in the early hours before dawn they found a large Comanche village spread along the south bank.

  The Texas Rangers were the next to arrive while the sun was still a couple of hours away from rising. The infantry, flanked by Seguin’s cavalry, arrived in the window of the night, before the first warm glow began to lighten the eastern sky. Will tasked Major Wyatt with deploying his infantry in an arc to the south and west of the village, still more than a thousand yards from the river. He sent Major Caldwell’s Rangers across the Brazos, covering the most likely route of retreat. As Caldwell prepared to follow his rangers north, Will grabbed him by the arm, “Capture as many as you can, Matt. I don’t want a massacre.”

  The rugged Texian nodded, “I’ll not risk my men, General, but I’ll make sure they don’t get their dander up.”

  Will waved as the Ranger followed his men, who were circling around the village. Seguin’s cavalry took up position, a company on either side of the infantry battalion.

  As the eastern sky began to glow with the promise of the morning sun, Will found Major Wyatt with his men, and said, “It’s time, Major. When we get into the camp, I want us looking for captives, and capture any woman not under arms as well as any children. As for the warriors, give them the same mercy the showed us at Fort Parker.”

  The butternut clad soldiers within hearing of Will growled in agreement as Wyatt issued the order to advance. Across a front more than six hundred yards wide, the Texian infantry moved forward, more than seventy rifle teams advancing in a thin skirmish line, each team working closely together. Will watched one such team, as two men sprinted from behind some scrub brush to a clump of hackberry trees, while the others covered their advance. Then these two raced forward, passing through the small hackberry grove, while the two in the tree line covered their comrades’ advance.

  The dawn’s peace was broken by an angry cry from the village as a Comanche warrior stepped from his teepee and saw the advancing infantry. A moment later, a scattering of rifle fire slashed out from the advancing Texians, riddling the loan warrior, who fell back against the teepee, knocking one of the support poles down, causing the shelter to lean precariously to the side. The camp broke into pandemonium as warriors spilled from the teepees with spears and bows and arrows in hand. A few even carried muskets. Following fast on the warriors’ heels, their wives and children wore alarmed expressions as they saw the advancing Texians for the first time. Many of the band’s most vulnerable members fled to the bank of the Brazos, splashing across it at the shallowest spots. Warriors who stopped to pull back their bows and fire at the steadily advancing infantry, quickly drew the aimed fire of riflemen. With a precision which comes from long practice, the infantry advanced into the camp, and tendrils of flames sprung up as they set the teepees ablaze.

  To either side of the infantry, Seguin’s cavalry spread out, and attempted to turn any running Comanche back toward the camp, frequently using their revolvers, whenever a warrior would stand and fight.

  As Will and Wyatt followed behind the Infantry, they found dozens of old men as well as women
and young children under guard. On the northern bank of the river, Caldwell’s Rangers rode into view, corralling even more prisoners before them. Following earlier orders, many of their riflemen were dragging the dead warriors into a line. Will was distressed to see among the dead many of their wives where they had been struck down, still clutching knives, spears, or bows in their lifeless hands. As Caldwell’s rangers rejoined the main force, he came up to Will and saw the many women among the dead. “It’s hard to imagine, General, but they are a warrior culture. Like you, I had hopes that their women would surrender when it was clear they were defeated, but as you can see, in too many cases, they chose to die with their men.”

  Will gazed across the long line of warriors who had been slain. Fifty-three warriors were counted among the dead. Additionally, thirty-one women were killed, when they joined their husbands, brothers, and fathers in defending their camp. Four children had been killed in the fight, the unfortunate collateral damage when war is visited upon the innocent. Despite the depredations visited on Texas settlements by their fathers and older brothers, the children were carefully laid to rest in hastily dug graves. The rough men who placed them in their final resting place mourned the senseless loss of life. The Comanche adults were dumped into a common grave.

  In all, a half dozen warriors were captured, too badly wounded to flee. Four elderly men and thirty-nine women of varying ages, and twenty-three pre-adolescent children were also captured. As they were chained together, Will watched. The human misery among the Comanche was palpable. The old men, unable to fight any more, glared angrily at Will’s Texians. The women either mourned their dead husbands or scowled at their captors, hatred in their eyes. The youngest children cried while those older were afraid. Everything they knew had been brutally ripped from their young lives.