by H. W. Brands
On April 27 the expedition reached Austin’s colony. The empresario himself was away from San Felipe, but Samuel Williams, Austin’s assistant, greeted Terán and the others and showed them to a house that had been prepared for them. Terán had heard about the industry of the Americans, yet he was amazed at what he saw. He calculated the colony’s annual corn crop at the equivalent of 64,000 bushels, and the cotton crop at 240,000 pounds. In addition, the colonists were raising mules for export to the British and French islands of the West Indies. Obviously, this was no subsistence project but, for most of the colonists, a venture in commercial agriculture. If the Americans’ self-confidence—which equaled their industry—was any guide, the success of the venture seemed certain.
Terán queried the colonists on various topics, including why they had come to Texas. “The reason for the emigration of the North Americans to Mexican territory, according to the colonists themselves, is the better climate,” Terán wrote.
To the north the freezing temperatures and snows create obstacles to their work for several months and force them to labor harder. In Texas they work year-round and therefore in greater moderation. In winter they clear and prepare the land that they will plant in the spring. They repair the roads for wheels, because the vehicle called wagüin [wagon] is their only means of transportation. . . .
The second reason they mention for emigration is that in the north agricultural production outstrips demand, and the prices are exceedingly low. The colonists hope for greater appreciation in the ports and on the coast of Mexico. . . . They hope to take over the supply of flour, grains, and meats in the ports.
Considering how well they had already done in Texas, Terán didn’t doubt that they could achieve their goal, probably before long. Whether that would tighten their attachment to Mexico or merely increase their self-reliance, Terán couldn’t say.
Téran would return to Austin’s colony, which was the center of American activity in Texas and therefore the focus of Terán’s intelligence gathering. But his Boundary Commission had to examine the boundary, and so he pushed the group on east. The humidity thickened the farther they went, and with it the mosquitoes. “I will remember for a long time the suffering I endured,” Terán wrote after one bad night. Two weeks more of torment caused him to moan: “The insects have wreaked great havoc on me. My ears and most of my face are missing skin and continuously oozing lymph.”
This land of mosquitoes was obviously less desirable than the region to the west, and its inhabitants were clearly less well off. After crossing the Neches, the expedition entered an opening in the pine forest. “There is a crudely built cabin, where we found two naked and very pallid North American children. We learned that they were living there alone because their mother had gone to Nacogdoches. This family seems to have been reduced to the utmost misery.”
The poverty of the border region was lamentable, but its lawlessness was shocking. “A great number of the foreigners who have entered the frontier are vicious and wild men with evil ways,” Terán wrote. “Some of them are fugitive criminals from the neighboring republic; within our borders they create disturbances and even criminal acts. . . . Since the laws do not allow for any claims by one republic against the other”—that is, by Mexico against the United States or vice versa—“the inhabitants take advantage of their friends and companions to attack and to defend themselves and cross from one side to the other in order to escape punishment.”
At Nacogdoches Terán reflected on what he had seen crossing Texas, and what it meant. “As one travels from Béxar to this town, Mexican influence diminishes, so much so that it becomes clear that in this town that influence is almost nonexistent. But where could such influence come from? Not from the population, because the ratio of the Mexican population to the foreign is one to ten; nor from its quality, because the population is precisely the contrary: the Mexicans of this town consist of what people everywhere call the abject class, the poorest and most ignorant.” The Americans in Nacogdoches operated an English-language school for their children. “The poor Mexicans neither have the resources to create schools, nor is there anyone to think about improving their institutions and their abject condition.”
Terán’s visit to the border made him appreciate what Stephen Austin had accomplished in his colony. On his outward journey Terán had been inclined to consider the success of the Austin colony a potential threat to Mexican rule; now he deemed it a bulwark against the rabble of the frontier. Terán characterized Austin’s colony as “the only one where they try to understand and obey the laws of the country and where, as a result of the enlightenment and integrity of its empresario, they have a notion of our republic and its government.”
Yet one couldn’t be too sure. Terán could accept the sincerity of Austin’s attachment to Mexico and still wonder if he had set something in motion that neither he nor Mexico could control. Traveling down the Trinity River to Atascocito, Terán discovered a thriving settlement of fifty-eight North American families engaged in raising cattle and sugar. “It should be pointed out that this colony has been created without the authorities’ knowledge,” Terán observed dryly. There seemed to be no stemming the American tide. Returning up the Trinity, Terán encountered a small but telling bit of evidence as to what the Mexican government was up against. “Traveling ahead of us—on foot, with neither provisions nor weapons—is a North American who has come from the state of Mississippi to visit the country, with the idea of settling there. He has gone as far as the Guadalupe River and says that he is heading back to bring his family.”
Terán couldn’t avoid the conclusion that there was something about the North Americans that simply made them better colonizers than the Mexicans. Visiting Austin’s colony again, he stopped at the plantation of James Groce, the wealthiest of the Americans. Groce’s land produced huge crops of cotton; Terán guessed that he currently had 30,000 pounds ready to ship to New Orleans. Groce had his own cotton gin and grist mill, and more than a hundred slaves. (Though slavery became illegal in Mexico following independence from Spain, the ban went unenforced in the American settlements in Texas.) The fields already under cultivation were fenced by wooden rails; other fields were being cleared to expand the operation. Groce could easily have afforded luxuries—and had he been Mexican, Terán thought, he probably would have indulged himself. But he didn’t. “This settler, despite the vast assets he enjoys, seeks very few comforts for himself. He lives with a young man, his son, and another white man among the huts of the negroes.” Terán thought it telling that even Groce’s slaves seemed to prosper. “The latter appear well dressed, with indications that they enjoy abundance.”
This made the contrast with another settlement all the more striking. From Austin’s colony Terán proceeded west and south; on the banks of the Guadalupe he encountered a colony of Mexicans from the state of Tamaulipas, planted by the empresario Martin de León. These settlers seemed a sober, responsible bunch—“well-behaved people from the decent laboring class who have brought livestock of every kind to the new settlement.” But the energy and acquisitiveness that distinguished the Austin colony were conspicuous by their absence.
Since they have no notion of internal or external commerce, they do not aim their efforts at cotton, sugar, or other exportable products that have begun to appear in the Austin colony. They limit themselves to raising many cattle and tilling good fields. They also have little knowledge of the economy and settlement system of the North Americans. They lack the variety of industries which the latter usually have and which makes it so easy for them to establish themselves with no more help than what they bring with them. Among the North Americans who live in the countryside, it is rare not to find carpenters, locksmiths, blacksmiths, and bloodletters. Even in a gathering of a few families, artisans of this type are hardly ever lacking. In the Mexican colony . . . all this is missing.
A minor feature of life in the Mexican colony, contrasting to that in the North American colony, revealed a major dif
ference. “The Mexicans escape from the solitude of the country and instead devote themselves to forming a populated body, rather than establishing themselves independently on the lands they cultivate. In the Austin colony, with more than 300 families, no more than 15 or 20 are found in the town, while in the Guadalupe colony all those who constitute it are in a rectangle around a plaza.” This contributed to social cohesion and perhaps communal happiness, but it diminished the colonists’ productivity. “The fields are 4 and 5 leagues away, which means that a great deal of time is spent traveling.” At Austin’s colony Terán had predicted that steamboats would soon be running on the Brazos to transport the colonists’ produce more efficiently to market; Terán saw no steamboats in the future of the Guadalupe.
So what was to be done? How could Texas be defended against the invasion of the Americans?
This was a hard problem, not least on account of the invaders’ infuriating smugness regarding land. “Nature tells them that the land is theirs,” Terán wrote, “because, in effect, everyone can appropriate what does not belong to anyone or what is not claimed by anyone. When the occasion arises, they will claim the irrefutable rights of first possession.” Terán conceded a distinction between the legal colonists of empresarios like Austin and the illegal immigrants who arrived without permission and settled where they would. The former followed the laws of Texas and Mexico, such as the laws were; the latter followed no laws but their own desires. Yet Terán wondered whether much, in the end, would really distinguish the lawless Anglos from the law-abiding. “I must say in all frankness that everyone I have talked to here who is aware of the state of the country and devoted to its preservation is convinced, and has convinced me, that these colonies, whose industriousness and economy receive such praise, will be the cause for the Mexican federation to lose Texas unless measures are taken soon.”
So what did Terán recommend? First, the Mexican army’s presence in Texas must be increased. “On the frontier there are intrigues,” Terán wrote; and the way to prevent intrigues from becoming rebellions was to have troops at the ready. The garrison at Béxar should be expanded and one or more military colonies established, starting along the Medina River below Béxar. Second, immigration of North Americans should be suspended. Existing American colonies, most notably Austin’s, should be left alone. Indeed, it was in Mexico’s interest that the faithful, law-abiding Austin prosper, so that his colony could inoculate Texas against the lawless elements. But no further American colonies should be allowed, and certainly no more independent American settlements.
The most important measure the Mexican government could adopt, and the one without which the others would be but temporary solutions, was to make Texas truly Mexican. “The land of Texas, or at least its eastern part where its principal rivers begin to be navigable, should be reserved for Mexican settlers,” Terán declared. He granted that this recommendation came late, as the Americans already occupied most of the best land in Texas. And he acknowledged the deficiencies of Mexicans as colonists. Even so, the government must do whatever it could to populate Texas with Mexicans. This was “absolutely necessary . . . in order to counterbalance foreign ways.” Terán proposed that the government transplant five thousand Mexicans along the Trinity River as a barrier to further American encroachment. Terán allowed that such a project would be costly. “The national treasury will have to spend a hundred thousand pesos or a bit more.” But he saw no other choice. “In our country nothing is done if the government does not do it.” If the government did take the lead, there was cause for optimism. “The way for Mexicans to become industrious entrepreneurs is for them to be encouraged once, twice, or even three times. If they are spurred, we can rely on their perseverance, and we should expect that if they are infused with the colonizing spirit, colonization will become popular. They will be filled with this frenzy for the north country and will populate its wilderness in just a few years.”
Here Terán was trying to persuade himself as much as his political superiors. He hoped Mexicans would fill Texas and thereby secure it for Mexico, but the evidence suggested otherwise. After helping Santa Anna defeat the Spanish at Tampico, Terán received command of the northeastern states of the Mexican federation (Tamaulipas, Nuevo León, and Coahuila y Texas). From his headquarters at Matamoros he monitored the continuing immigration to Texas, and he continued to try to stop it. “The department of Texas is contiguous to the most avid nation in the world,” he wrote to the Mexican war department in late 1829. “The North Americans have conquered whatever territory adjoins them. In less than half a century, they have become masters of extensive colonies which formerly belonged to Spain and France, and of even more spacious territories from which have disappeared the former owners, the Indian tribes. There is no power like that to the north, which by silent means has made conquests of momentous importance. Such dexterity, such constancy in their designs, such uniformity of means of execution which always are completely successful, arouses admiration.”
It also aroused alarm, or ought to. Terán declared that Mexico was about to lose Texas, not to American soldiers but to American immigrants and the ideas they brought with them. “Instead of armies, battles, or invasions—which make a great noise and for the most part are unsuccessful—these men lay hand on means that, if considered one by one, would be rejected as slow, ineffective, and at times palpably absurd. They begin by assuming rights, as in Texas, which it is impossible to sustain in a serious discussion, making ridiculous pretensions based on historical incidents which no one admits—such as the voyage of La Salle, which was an absurd fiasco but serves as a basis for their claim to Texas.” The extravagant claims were echoed in the American press, creating a popular demand for their vindication. Enterprising Americans acted on this demand, often disingenuously. “The territory against which these machinations are directed, and which has usually remained unsettled, begins to be visited by adventurers and empresarios; some of these take up their residence in the country, pretending that their location has no bearing upon the question of their government’s claim or the boundary disputes.” Terán was willing to grant that certain of these disclaimants—he was thinking especially of Austin—were sincere in their denials. But sincere or facetious, they introduced a political dynamic that was ineluctable. “Shortly, some of these forerunners develop an interest which complicates the political administration of the coveted territory; complaints, even threats, begin to be heard, working on the loyalty of the legitimate settlers, discrediting the efficiency of the existing authority and administration.”
This was the current condition of Texas, Terán said, and it would only worsen. The government of the United States would be drawn in, from professed concern for the rights of its nationals. Diplomatic pressure would increase, and Mexico would find itself dispossessed of Texas in much the way that Spain had lost Florida and France Louisiana.
Terán didn’t weep for Spain or France or mourn their colonial losses. After all, Mexico owed its independence to its success in dispossessing Spain. But for Mexico to lose Texas would be a different matter altogether. Texas wasn’t an ocean away from Mexico, as North America was from France and Spain. Texas was part of Mexico itself, a strategically vital part. For Mexico to lose Texas would threaten the security of the republic. “How can it be expected to cut itself off from its own soil, give up to a rival power territory advantageously placed in the extremity of its states, which joins some of them and serves as a buffer to all? How can it be expected to alienate two hundred and fifty leagues of coast, leaving on them vast resources for the construction of boats, the shortest channels for commerce and navigation, the most fertile lands, and the most copious elements for providing means of attack and defense?” In a deeper sense, yielding Texas to the Americans would undermine everything Mexican patriots like Terán had fought for since the start of the revolution. “If Mexico should consent to this base act, it would degenerate from the most elevated class of American powers to that of a contemptible medioc
rity, reduced to the necessity of buying a precarious existence at the cost of many humiliations.”
C h a p t e r 8
What Will Become of Texas?
Terán’s warnings gave rise to a radical change in Mexican policy toward Texas. In the spring of 1830, Foreign Minister Lucas Alamán shaped Terán’s advice into a bill the Mexican congress duly adopted. The law—known by the date of its enactment, April 6—authorized the construction and manning of military posts on the Texas frontier and encouraged colonization of the province by Mexican nationals. It prohibited further immigration to Texas from the United States. It suspended empresario contracts not already completed, and it banned the introduction of additional slaves.
“A more impolitic measure could not have been adopted by this Government,” Stephen Austin declared upon learning of the April 6 law. Austin had sensed that change was afoot; the uneasiness of Terán during his tour of Texas wasn’t a secret. But Austin had hoped for something less drastic, something that wouldn’t rekindle the anger that had given rise to the Fredonian rebellion. The April 6 law singled out Americans in its ban on immigration to Texas, and by fastening new garrisons on the settlers, it treated them as traitors-in-waiting. In so doing, Austin feared, the law might make rebels out of peaceful men. “They were becoming sincerely attached to this Government and they always have been faithful and always would be,” he said of his colonists. But the suspicions that inspired the new law threatened to alter everything. “They are well calculated to create discontent and disgust where it has never existed.”
