Several violent encounters had transpired during the early months of 1835, and by May relations with the “wild Indians” reached a serious level. The Bastrop-area citizens were concerned enough to form a five-man safety committee, of which Edward Burleson was a member. The colonists employed Caddo Chief Canoma, long considered to be friendly to Anglo colonists, to go into the field to hold peace talks to attempt to secure the release of two small children who had been taken captive. Canoma returned with disturbing news: at least half of the Indians he had visited were opposed to making peace with white settlers who had moved into the upper areas of the Colorado River. Chief Canoma also reported that the most unsettled Indians were on the move toward the settlement at Bastrop where Coleman lived.7
The settlers at the Falls of the Brazos sent runner Samuel McFall to race ahead to warn the Bastrop citizens. Before he could arrive, a group of eight Indians attacked a party of Anglo wagoneers on the road from San Felipe to Bastrop on June 1, near Pin Oak Creek. Amos R. Alexander was killed outright and his son was gravely wounded. The younger Alexander had been shot through the body but he lived long enough to race his horse back toward Moore’s Fort, in the closest town of La Grange. He met the second wagon being hauled by a pair of teamsters his father had hired. Alexander died from his wounds and the teamsters raced into La Grange to spread the alarm.8
John Henry Moore raised a party of men at his twin blockhouse to pursue the killers. As this was going on, two settlers had stopped at the home of frontiersman John Marlin near the Falls of the Brazos. When the ill travelers’ horses wandered off, Marlin employed Chief Canoma and his companion Dorcha to bring the horses back. They were still in the field when Captain Moore led his La Grange volunteers out to seek justice for the Alexander murders. They found and buried the bodies of the dead wagoneers but lost the trail of the Indians near the three forks of the Little River. Moore’s party was joined in the field by another hastily assembled mounted group led by Captain Edward Burleson of Mina. The united force numbered sixty-one men, Robert Coleman being among Burleson’s Mina company.9
Burleson and Moore led their men to a spot about fifty miles above the Falls of the Brazos and made camp for two days. Several of the volunteers who were out hunting encountered the friendly chief Canoma and a few other Indians. Because the Indians were traveling with well-shod American-style horses, they were apprehended under the suspicion of being guilty of theft. Robert Coleman announced that the Indians should be put to death for the Alexander murders, although Canoma protested that they were merely returning runaway horses for John Marlin.10
Burleson hoped to take the Caddos and Cherokees back into Mina for a fair trial, but he was ignored by his volunteers two-to-one in a common vote. Coleman and eight others lashed Canoma and his son Dorcha to trees, shot them to death, and released Canoma’s wife into the wilderness to spread the word about what would happen to horse thieves in Texas. Some of the white volunteers were appalled by the senseless murders and left their party. Settler Moses Cummins wrote in disgust, “Such men, in such a state of mind, are not apt to discriminate between guilt and innocence.” George Erath added, “The pursuing settlers were indifferent as to whether they found Caddos or wild Indians.”11
The two volunteer groups returned to their respective settlements, having taken two innocent lives as “revenge” for the murder of the Alexanders. The Mina safety committee decided to maintain an active armed presence of mounted riflemen to defend its citizens against any future Indian uprisings. Coleman was elected captain of the local ranging company of eighteen men on June 12, 1835. Captain Coleman wrote to the committee of his intentions, saying that he departed Bastrop on July 2 with his company “for the purpose of chastising those menaces to civilized men.”12
Coleman’s rangers crossed the Brazos River at Washington on July 4 and made a campaign against the Tawakoni Indians living near Tehuacana Springs in present Limestone County. During the early morning hours of July 11, his men crawled up to the edge of the village, which contained an estimated one hundred Tawkonis, mixed with a few Caddos and Ionies. Coleman’s company attacked, killing a number of the Indians, but they suffered one ranger killed and three badly wounded, including Bastrop store owner Jesse Halderman. Coleman’s company retreated, falling back on nearby Parker’s Fort to seek medical attention for his wounded men.
Captain Coleman rode for Viesca, the capital of Robertson’s Colony, where he called out for reinforcements. “Those Indians must be chastised or this flourishing country abandoned, and again become a wilderness,” he wrote on July 20. The word spread through the Texas colonies and four more mounted companies under Coe, Barnett, Moore, and Williamson had ridden to Coleman’s aid. Silas Parker and Samuel Frost, residents of the little Parker fortification, provided beef, corn, bacon, and medical attention to the rangers assembled in their compound. The blistering August sun had scorched the prairie grasses in recent days but now a heavy front was turning the prairies into quagmires. The nearby Navasota River swelled from its banks, forcing Colonel Moore’s expedition to camp at the fort several nights before moving out during the second week of August.
The party reached the Tawakoni village only to find that it had been recently abandoned. They rested their horses for two days while stocking up on the available crops. “We found sixty acres in corn, which was just hard enough to be gritted, and by making holes in the bottom of the tin cups we carried we fashioned graters, and supplied ourselves with bread,” Erath related. The rangers also found plentiful supplies of pumpkins, watermelons, muskmelons, peas, and other vegetables raised by Indians.13
Once Moore’s battalion departed the Tawakoni village, they moved twenty miles over the prairie before advance scouts rode back with the excited call, “Indians!” They had reached a heavy belt of timber extending along Pin Oak Creek, which emptied into the Trinity River. Colonel Moore and his adjutant James Clinton Neill quickly formed their companies into a battle line. Erath felt they “took as much precaution as if we were about to fight such formidable foes as Creeks, Cherokees, and Seminoles—foes the two had faced in their younger days under Jackson.”
Some fifteen minutes were spent parading and arranging the riflemen, precious minutes that allowed the Indians in the forest ahead to move out. When Moore finally gave the order to charge, the more eager volunteers spurred their mounts forward. Erath was riding a young horse that had been captured from a herd of wild mustangs. His horse and that of Samuel McFall darted forward ahead of all others, charging several hundred yards through post oak timber over boggy soil. Some of the rangers thought it funny enough to nickname McFall “the Flying Dutchman.” Erath whipped and cursed his fiery beast to try to contain his energy as the battalion leaders cursed at the two Texans who refused to maintain their place in the battle line. “Our steeds had determined to give us a reputation for bravery which we did not deserve,” wrote Erath.
In the timber line, the rangers were met by their advance scouts, who brought news that the Indians, only a half dozen in number, had fled. They had taken flight as the troops were being organized. Erath found the whole affair to be a joke: one hundred strong, they had managed to capture only a single pony. “In camping near the place that night there was much laughing over the adventure,” he said. The expedition was unable to overtake the Indians they were pursuing during the next days. The Indians found it easy to stay ahead of such a large and ill-formed force that had to contend with mud bogs and swollen streams. Moore’s battalion did encounter a small camp of Wacos, killing one of them and capturing five others. They learned from their prisoners that a larger body of Indians was camped shortly ahead of them. Pushing forward at daylight, Moore’s men found an Indian encampment abandoned so quickly that the Indians had cut the stake ropes to their horses.14
This was the final straw for many of the Brazos-area volunteers. Their horses were worn down from weeks of chasing Indians, and many of the men grumbled aloud that they were finished. Colonel Moore found a great division
amongst his companies, but he was determined to carry on if possible. Some of Captain Coleman’s men turned for home, as did the entire companies of Captains Barnett and Coe. Coleman was later paid as a captain of rangers through August 28, 1835, and Captain Coe’s men were paid until they mustered out in their settlement on August 31.
John Henry Moore pushed on with the remaining rangers, largely the companies of Captains Michael Goheen and Willie Williamson. They moved through the countryside up to the forks of the Trinity River, where Dallas now stands. Along the way, they struggled with their unruly Waco captives. One of the Indian women somehow managed to steal a knife one night in camp. She murdered her own infant daughter before turning the blade on herself to commit suicide. Captain Burleson called for a volunteer to speed her suffering, to which Oliver Buckman of Williamson’s company drew his large homemade knife and put the Waco out of her misery.
The ill-fated expedition finally turned for home in early September, and encountered two more Indians in a timber grove along the way. The men with the fastest horses chased them into the forest, killing one and continuing to hunt the other. In the thicket, William Magill raised his rifle to fire at a fleeting figure rushing from the brush. He mistakenly hit Moses Smith Hornsby of Captain Goheen’s company and nearly severed his arm. Hornsby agonized in pain for nearly two days before he died and was buried along the return trail. To protect his body from being further mutilated by Indians, his fellow rangers kindled a campfire on the dirt above his grave and left it burning to conceal his corpse.15
Colonel Moore’s battalion reached Mina on September 13, where they were drummed out of service to return to their respective home settlements. “This was my first experience of war in Texas,” wrote George Erath. More than one hundred strong, the five ranging companies had covered a vast section of East Texas with only meager results to show for their suffering. The campaign did instill some discipline in its volunteers, preparing them for future military service, and it helped create many future leaders who would guide Texas through some of its turmoil that lay ahead.
Robert Morris Coleman, the vengeful company commander who had helped stir up much of the Indian aggression, had laid the groundwork for the system that would become known as the Texas Rangers. His desire to continually operate a multi-company ranger battalion would take another year to realize. Loosely organized ranger companies had operated in conjunction with the Texas Militia since 1822, but within two months of the 1835 Moore campaign, Captain Coleman was recognized as being the organizer of the first Texas Ranger company legally organized by the new provisional government of Texas.
Coleman was not only instrumental in helping to emphasize the need for rangers. He was a leader who would have a central role as the seeds of rebellion began to grow in Texas. His involvement with the Texas Rangers would continue but a more powerful opponent than Indians would first command his attention for the next year.
2
SEEDS OF REBELLION
THE ANGLO AND TEJANO settlers of Texas had far more to fear than random Indian depredations in their near future. The seeds of a larger rebellion had been planted on almost the very day that empresario (colonization agent) Stephen Fuller Austin realized his late father’s dream of colonizing Texas.
By the time Austin began bringing in his first settlers in 1823, the Texas territory had been claimed by Spain, France, and finally Mexico. Spanish explorer Francisco Vázquez de Coronado had crossed the Texas panhandle in 1541 during his fruitless quest to find the fabled Seven Cities of Cíbola. The name of the future republic of Texas came from the word tejas, a term meaning “friend” that was widely used by the Indians of that area. Spain had been the first European nation to claim what is now Texas, beginning in 1519, but the first Spanish settlement—Ysleta Mission in present El Paso—was not established until 1681. During that time, France had planted its flag in eastern Texas near the Gulf Coast. Fort St. Louis was founded by French nobleman and explorer René-Robert Cavelier (known more popularly by his title, Sieur de La Salle), who had hoped to establish a colony near the mouth of the Mississippi River. La Salle missed his mark and instead landed his colonists at Matagorda Bay on the Texas coast in February 1685.
The French flag was planted in Tejas soil, but it would not fly long. La Salle was killed by one of his own people two years later and the remaining colonists of Fort St. Louis struggled greatly to survive due to poor diet, exposure, and disease. The remaining men and women were massacred by coastal Karankawa Indians around Christmas 1688. The first European birth of record in Tejas was an infant born to the wife of Lieutenant Gabriel Barbier. The Karankawas killed Madame Barbier, then held her baby by its heels and smashed its head against a tree. French claims on Tejas evaporated by 1690.
Spain continued to claim all territories of the lower North American region from the Pacific shores of present California to the Gulf of Mexico as far east as the Florida panhandle. Mexico City was the center of Spain’s empire in the New World. Their rival nation France continued to claim only the areas of Canada, Louisiana, and the Mississippi Valley. Spanish authorities decided to establish missions near the Rio Grande River to Christianize the natives there and to help guard their borders. The first Spanish mission settlement to be established deep within Texas in 1716 was Nacogdoches, named for the Nacogdoche Indians, a Caddo group.1
Twenty-six Spanish missions would be established for varying lengths of time between 1682 and 1793 within the future boundaries of what would become the state of Texas. Five missions were created between 1718 and 1731 near the head of the San Antonio River and a thriving town began growing around the first, San Antonio de Béxar Presidio. San Antonio de Béxar, known commonly as Béxar, became the capital of Spanish Texas in 1773 and its population had surpassed two thousand souls within another five years.
The North American territories changed ownership through the great conflicts of the eighteenth century—the French and Indian War, the American Revolution, and the French Revolution. Louisiana passed from French control to Spain and back to France in 1800, although Napoleon soon sold this territory to the United States. The acquisition of the Louisiana Purchase only gave President Thomas Jefferson an appetite to properly claim Texas. War was avoided between Spain and the United States by a temporary Neutral Ground that was established between Texas and Louisiana. Spain finally resolved the issue in 1819 by selling the Neutral Ground to the United States for $5 million with the agreement by U.S. secretary of state John Quincy Adams that all claims to Texas were renounced.
Spanish authorities were aware that Texas remained attractive to future American growth, but Spain had enjoyed little success in persuading its own citizens to move to the remote and sparsely populated region. As of 1820, there were but three settlements in the province of Texas: Nacogdoches, San Antonio de Béxar, and La Bahía del Espiritu Santo (later known as Goliad). Spain thus began recruiting foreigners to help develop their northern frontier in Texas. It was in this window of opportunity that fifty-eight-year-old American entrepreneur Moses Austin paid a visit to San Antonio de Béxar, the capital of the province.
Austin had previously established a lead-mining operation and colony in northern Louisiana, but the War of 1812 had slowly driven him into financial ruin. He arrived in Béxar a penniless man with a big plan. He would bring three hundred hardworking Catholic families from the former Spanish territory of Louisiana to settle. The Mexican governor was unimpressed with the proposal but Moses Austin found support in another opportunist, a former Dutch nobleman and current Béxar alcalde who went by the lofty name Baron de Bastrop. With the help of Bastrop, Austin convinced the Spanish governor of the advantages of his proposal.
Austin returned home to Missouri and began planning his Anglo colonization of Texas. He had developed pneumonia, however, and the illness claimed his life in June 1821 before his dreams could be fulfilled. To his wife, Maria, his last wish was conveyed: his eldest son Stephen should take over the empresario business he had started. With gr
eat reluctance, Stephen Austin decided to take over his father’s venture even as Mexico was fighting a war of independence with Spain. He arrived in San Antonio in August 1821, just as a treaty granting Mexican independence was being signed. He found his father’s deal to be null and void, necessitating an eleven-month stay in Mexico City to win the new government’s approval. Austin returned to New Orleans and published the invitation terms for colonists to join him in settling the Brazos and Colorado river areas. He would take as compensation twelve and a half cents per acre, this on top of the sixty-seven thousand acres of land an empresario was to receive for each two hundred families he introduced.
The terms were simple. Colonists were demanded to take an oath of loyalty to the new Mexican government of Mexico and profess to be a Christian, with the Catholic Church being the established religion of the region. In return, each married head of family would receive at least one labor (177 acres) of land if they farmed, and one league (4,428 acres) if they raised stock. Austin and his land commissioner, Baron de Bastrop, issued 272 titles during 1823–24. In all, 307 titles were issued, with nine families receiving two titles each—bringing the total number of land grantees to 297 instead of three hundred. Still, the original settlers of Austin’s first colony were long referred to as the “Old Three Hundred.”2
One early settler described the opportunity of settling in Texas during the 1820s as being as yearned for as California would become during its 1849 Gold Rush period. He wrote that colonists were “to be exempt from taxation six years from date of settlement, with the privilege of importing, duty free, everything they might desire for themselves and families.” He found “an abundance of game, wild horses, cattle, turkeys, buffalo, deer, and antelope by the drove. The woods abounded in bee trees, wild grapes, plums, cherries, persimmons, haws, and dewberries, while walnuts, hickorynuts, and pecans were abundant along the water courses.” The winter climate was mild enough so that buckskin sufficed in the summer and heavier buffalo robes or bearskins afforded ample protection in the winter. “Corn in any quantity was to be had for the planting,” he added.3
Texas Rising Page 2
