Gone to Texas (12 page)

Ellis thanked him for his frankness. On learning that General Humbert was taking a cargo of arms to Nautla in one of the Lafittes' ships, Ellis hoped the guns would get to Morelos. He headed for Natchitoches to look into the prospects of an invasion of Texas from the Neutral Ground between the Sabine and Arroyo Hondo. He found a number of dispirited Tejano refugees living a hand-to-mouth existence around Natchitoches and in the Neutral Ground, where their only occupation was smuggling. When he suggested another expedition to Texas, they shrugged. “The royalists killed my father and brothers,” one said. “I barely escaped. None of us wants to go through that again.” Feeling frustrated, Ellis returned to New Orleans.

Early in September, Humbert returned to New Orleans, bringing Juan Pablo Anaya, a follower of General Rosains, who was a Morelos partisan. He also brought Padre José Antonio Pedrazo, who represented Rayón. Rosains and Rayón were both fighting for Mexican independence, but they were bitter rivals. Anaya claimed to be Mexico's minister to the United States, which infuriated Pedrazo.

He angrily went to Spanish consul Diego Morphy and revealed Alvarez de Toledo's plan to attack Tampico while Gutiérrez led an expedition into Texas. Morphy protested to the government.

Because of the Lafittes' widespread smuggling activities, in mid-September, U.S. gunboats and troops captured their fleet and many of their men, while the rest went into hiding. Rumors of a British invasion of the gulf area brought General Andrew Jackson to New Orleans on December 1, although his Kentucky and Tennessee riflemen remained at Baton Rouge, guarding the Mississippi. When a British fleet entered Lake Borgne on December 13, it was clear that their target was New Orleans. Jackson proclaimed martial law and ordered his troops from Baton Rouge to New Orleans.

Jackson found no fortifications worthy of the name, and the militiamen were without flints for their rifles. Aware of Jackson's need for flints and arms, the Lafittes, who had a secret warehouse well-stocked with military supplies, offered them along with their services and those of their men. Jackson, who a short time earlier had denounced them as “hellish banditti,” gladly accepted the offer. He issued a proclamation of amnesty and ordered the prisoners released.

On December 23 Jackson made a night attack that slowed the British advance. Then he withdrew to a dry canal below New Orleans that ran from the east bank of the Mississippi to a cypress swamp. He set his men to converting the canal into breastworks. Ellis, whose father had known Jackson in Tennessee, offered to serve as an artilleryman. He and some of the Lafittes' gunners were assigned to one of the twenty-four-pounder cannon.

On January 1, 1815, the British attacked but, in a furious battle, were outgunned and withdrew to wait for reinforcements. Ellis and the others waited, sure they would return. On the morning of January 8, they heard bugles in the distance, and soon the British appeared again, more than five thousand strong against Jackson's four thousand five hundred. They headed for the breastworks, marching steadily in tight, compact columns. They're making it easy for us, Ellis thought.

He and the Lafitte gunners worked their cannon, showering the British with grapeshot, tearing gaping holes in the ranks. In the face of deadly rifle and artillery fire, the British withdrew to regroup. They immediately attacked again, with the same result. In half an hour the battle was over. Leaving seven hundred dead on the field, including their commander, Sir Edward Packenham, and two other generals, the British retreated. American losses were eight killed and thirteen wounded. No one on either side had known that two weeks earlier, peace had been made at Ghent.

As soon as the British sailed away, Ellis turned again to securing military aid for Morelos. The New Orleans Associates, a group of businessmen, among them the Lafittes, were willing to ship arms to Mexico, but only for a substantial profit. On February 8, Ellis sailed on their ship
Aguila
with all the arms he could obtain. He carried dispatches from Alvarez de Toledo to Morelos and the congress, asking for letters of marque to issue to privateers and for money to support an expedition to take Tampico. Alvarez de Toledo also urged that a port be kept open on the gulf coast and recommended sending a minister to negotiate a treaty with the United States.

The
Aguila
anchored at Boquilla de Piedras, where Guadalupe Victoria was in command. Ellis distributed arms to many of his men, then set out with a small party to deliver the rest to Morelos at Puruarán, six hundred miles away. They traveled cautiously, but saw no enemy patrols. They found Morelos with several hundred men.

“What news from the United States?” he asked, after warmly embracing Ellis.

Ellis delivered the dispatches and told him about the journey through enemy territory. “The U.S. and Britain have been at war,” he explained. “Americans wish you well, but they haven't been in a position to help.”

“What a pity!” Morelos exclaimed, disappointed. He read the letters from Alvarez de Toledo. “We will send a minister as he suggests, and all the money we have.” He named Manuel de Herrera as minister to the United States. “Take him with you when you return, Elias,” he said. “Also, take my son and put him in a Catholic school, for he can get no schooling here. And send us all the arms you can.”

Ellis, with thirteen thousand pesos from the congress, and Herrera with fifteen thousand for his mission to Washington, took Morelos' son, the thirteen-year-old Juan N. Almonte, and rode to Tehuacán, where Mier y Terán still held out.

“It's good to see you, my friend,” he said, giving Ellis an
abrazo.
“We're grateful for your help, even though ours may be a losing cause.”

Ellis looked at Mier's weathered face and the determined set of his jaw, amazed at how much he'd matured after a few years of war. Mier was, Morelos had told him, one of the most able patriot commanders. Even though he was discouraged about the patriots' prospects, Ellis knew that any royalist force that attacked him would meet its match.

With his two companions, Ellis rode on to Boquilla de Piedras, where they waited for weeks, anxiously watching for a sail to appear. Knowing that Morelos was counting on him, Ellis chafed at the delay, feeling helpless. He had nearly given up hope when Alvarez de Toledo arrived on the
Petit Milan
with a cargo of muskets the New Orleans Associates had sent. Their agent demanded immediate payment, but finally agreed to wait until they reached New Orleans. As soon as the arms were unloaded, Ellis, Herrera, and Almonte went on board, and the
Petit Milan
sailed.

For a month the ship tossed in stormy weather, giving Ellis a queasy stomach and making him eager to be ashore. When they finally reached New Orleans, a member of the Associates boarded, demanding immediate payment for the arms. Herrera reluctantly paid him, for he was left without funds for the trip to Washington, and in a melancholy mood.

After placing Almonte in a school, Ellis and Herrera met with the Associates to arrange for another shipment of arms in late November. The
Petit Milan
sailed again in January 1816, with Ellis and another shipment of arms on board. At Boquilla de Piedras, he met Guadalupe Victoria, whose solemn expression alarmed him, for it was clear that something was amiss.

“Bad news, Elias,” Guadalupe Victoria said. “Morelos was escorting the congress to Tehuacán, when one of the many royalist columns crossed their trail and attacked.” Ellis caught his breath, dreading to hear what he feared was coming. “Morelos was trying to hold them off so the congress could escape,” Guadalupe Victoria continued, “when he was captured by one of his former lieutenants. He should have abandoned the congress and escaped himself, for he was the only one they wanted. Once they had him, they didn't even follow the congress, and it went on to Tehuacán. They were a quarrelsome group and interfered with everything. They caused so much trouble that Mier finally ordered them to disperse. In the meantime, the royalists shot Morelos.”

Ellis felt weak and sick at heart. The game little priest had been the symbol of the revolution, its pillar of strength. Now he was no more. If I hadn't failed him, Ellis thought bitterly, he might still be alive. He half-heartedly took the arms to Mier, for now even that seemed futile.

Mier's face was drawn with worry. “The end is in sight, I fear,” he confessed. “So many of our men have gone over to the enemy, we no longer have reason to hope.” Although he tried not to believe that, Ellis knew it was true.

“When you return,” Mier continued, “I want you to take Magdalena Falfán de los Godos with you.” Ellis frowned and started to protest, but Mier held up his hand. “Hers is a fine family,” he said, “but they have lost everything in the revolution. An uncle has an
hacienda
near Jalapa. If there's any way you can get her there, he'll look after her. If you can't, take her to New Orleans.” Before Ellis could say anything, Mier stepped into the adjoining room, then returned with Magdalena and introduced her.

Ellis, who had been almost resentful that Mier was saddling him with one more unwanted responsibility, immediately brightened when he saw her. Magdalena was fair-skinned, with large, sparkling dark eyes, a beautiful oval face framed by black hair, and a well-proportioned figure. She offered a dainty hand to Ellis, who accepted it gingerly, and squeezed it as gently as if it had been made of glass. He held his breath, thrilled by her touch.

“You two get acquainted,” Mier said, then left them. They sat, while Magdalena shyly looked at the floor. Ellis waited for her to speak, for he could think of nothing sensible to say and was afraid he'd babble like an idiot if he opened his mouth.

“I have heard much good about you,
señor,
” she said in a low, musical voice that made Ellis tingle with delight. “General Mier says that you are a loyal friend of the revolution. I am pleased and proud to make your acquaintance.” She shyly looked him in the face, then modestly lowered her eyes again.

Ellis smiled broadly, glowing in the praise of one so lovely. “Tell me about your family,” he said, eager to hear her voice again.

“My father favored those who would make our country independent. He was open and frank about it, which was a mistake, but he couldn't be any other way. Troops came and arrested him and my mother and confiscated his property. They ignored me, but left me without means to support myself. I don't even know if my parents are still alive,” she said, her voice quavering a little, her eyes filling with tears.

Ellis was beside himself with desire to comfort and reassure her, but he knew there was nothing he could truthfully say that would be encouraging. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I hope....”

She quickly regained her composure, and her expression became determined. “We will be independent one day,” she said firmly. “I'm sure of it. Hidalgo, Morelos, and all those other brave men did not give their lives in vain. If I were a man, I'd do the same thing.” Seeing her expression and hearing her voice, Ellis knew that what she said was true.

He changed the subject. “Do you know how I happen to be here?” he asked. She shook her head. He told her about Nolan, the years in Chihuahua, and his imprisonment in Acapulco. She was enchanted with the story of his white lizard.

“He must still miss you,” she said.

“Not as much as I miss him. In those days he was my only friend.”

“How sad!” she exclaimed.

They spent a week walking around Tehuacán, admiring the city and talking. By the time they set out for Boquilla de Piedras, Ellis was madly in love, and the way Magdalena smiled at him gave him hope it wasn't one-sided. He couldn't take his eyes off her as they rode side by side. When she looked at him, he felt weak all over, but he got up his courage.

“Magdalena,” he said, “I love you more than anyone in the world. Will you marry me? We can live in the States until it's safe to come back.” He waited, red-faced and breathless.

She smiled and reached for his hand. “I've thought about that, too,” she confessed, lowering her eyes and coloring at her boldness.

They came to a village with a small church and found the padre there, a ruddy-faced old man in a shabby habit that Ellis suspected he'd worn ever since he'd been ordained.

“Do you have a ring?” he asked Ellis.

“No. I'll get her one later.”

The old padre shrugged and performed the ceremony. Ellis paid him and they rode on together as man and wife. Ellis felt like singing or shouting or firing his musket. They stopped for the night at an
hacienda,
where the
hacendado
and his gracious wife, recognizing that they were newlyweds, made them welcome.

The next day, Guadalupe Victoria rode up, accompanied by four men, and was astonished to see Ellis. “Elias,” he said, “don't go to Boquilla de Piedras. The enemy overwhelmed us; these are all the men I have left. We were lucky to escape. I don't have a peso to my name.”

“I have fourteen hundred pesos,” Ellis told him. “Do you want to take them and make a fresh start?”

Guadalupe Victoria grimaced. “No,” he wearily replied. “It's no use. Our friends have either gone over to the enemy or they're too discouraged to continue the struggle. Let's hide out in the mountains and wait for a better time.”

Ellis had no wish to live like a hunted animal, knowing that the very men who gave them food might betray them. Besides, there was Magdalena. “No, I can't do that,” he said.

The next day, Guadalupe Victoria and his men left for a mountain hideout near Córdoba. “When you come out of hiding and revive the revolution, I'll hear about it and join you,” Ellis promised.

The
hacendado
had his peons butcher a steer and slice part of the meat into thin strips to dry in the sun, so Ellis and Magdalena would have food for the rest of their journey to the coast. Wishing they could stay there forever, Magdalena and Ellis were walking in the yard, hand-in-hand, when he saw a cloud of dust in the distance and knew at once that a royalist cavalry troop was coming.