Home of the Brave (28 page)

At about 10:30 when
Warrior
reached the
island, Holmes directed fire from the 6-pounder onto the island
until all resistance vanished. Soon after, the militia commanders
lost control of their men and a massacre followed with the soldiers
killing both combatants and noncombatants indiscriminately and then
scalping or otherwise mutilating the dead.

The regulars, under Major
Jack Van Buskirk, took seventy-five prisoners and no scalps, the
militia took no prisoners but countless scalps.

The few Sauk and Fox who had
managed to escape across the River ran into the Sioux warriors of
Chief Wabasha. Wabasha brought in sixty-eight scalps and twenty-two
prisoners. U.S. forces losses totaled five dead and nineteen
wounded.

October 1, 1832

San Felipe de Austin,
Coahuila, Mexican Province of Tejas

“This man is a squatter.”
Wharton pointed at Thomas Van Buskirk. “He doesn’t have the right
to attend this meeting let alone be elected as a
delegate.”

Stephen Austin banged his
gavel for order as several people shouted in response. “Mr. Van
Buskirk is not a squatter, sir. Through a series of missteps on my
part he was denied the land that he paid for and he has now settled
on public domain land.”

“That’s Comanche land,” the
delegate from Nacogdoches shouted. “Nothin’ public about
it.”

“If it belongs to the
Comanches,” Captain Whipple shouted back, “it’s only theirs by
right of conquest since they took it by force from the Caddo that
was up there first. Who’s t’ say that Tom can’t take it from them
by the same method?”

“You’re just sayin’ that it
belongs to anyone who wants it,” the other man
challenged.

“I’m sayin’ that it belongs
to anyone strong enough to take it and hold it until the Government
says who’s the rightful owner,” Whipple shot back.

“Order please,” Austin
called, pounding the gavel again. “Anyone that wants to speak will
be given the opportunity. The chair recognizes Frank
Johnson.”

Johnson got to his feet.
“When I asked for help at Anahuac, Thomas Van Buskirk came all the
way down from his ranch on the Colorado with armed vaqueros. That,
to me, is more than enough to entitle him to attend this meeting. I
don’t know about the rest.”

“And he stood by me at
Velasco,” John Austin added.

Stephen Austin banged the
gavel again as voices were raised in argument. “Let’s just put it
to a vote and get on to the main issue. All those in favor of
recognizing Thomas Van Buskirk as a delegate to this convention
signifying by saying aye.” He waited for the response. “Those
opposed?” He waited again then banged his gavel. “The ayes have it.
Welcome, Delegate Van Buskirk.”

“Hold on,” Wharton bellowed.
“What does he represent?”

Austin walked to the map.
“This area of Comanche territory along the Colorado River from the
Beale and Rayuellas Grant, to the Austin and Williams Grant,
formerly known as the Nashville Grant.”

“Now wait,” Wharton argued.
“How far does it go north and south?”

Austin traced an oval around
the river. “It’s about thirty miles deep. More on the north than
the south side of the river. I have a survey that you can look at
any time you want to, Mr. Wharton.” He walked back to the podium.
“Mr. Secretary, please enter the name of Thomas Van Buskirk as
delegate number fifty-five representing the Upper Colorado
Grant.”

“It has been done, Mr.
President,” Johnson replied.

“We have one important
outstanding piece of business that we must now address until we
have agreement,” Austin said. “That being the language of a
resolution asking that Texas become an independent state, separate
from Coahuila.”

“Whatever it says I want it
made clear that we’re not demanding independence from Mexico,” a
voice shouted.

Austin banged his gavel.
“That has been agreed upon.”

“Not by me,” Travis
shouted.

“Or me,” Wharton
added.

“Well,” Austin replied in
frustration. “The language has been agreed to but you can vote
against the resolution when I call for the up or down
vote.

“Another damn coercion,”
Travis bellowed.

“Mr. President?”

“The chair recognizes Mr.
Beales.”

“I call the
question.”

“Second.”

Austin nodded. “All those in
favor of suspending debate and voting up or down on the resolution?
Opposed? Very well. The motion carries. The secretary will read the
separation resolution.”

“I move that we dispense
with the reading,” Dewitt said. “We all know it by heart and we’ve
talked it to death.”

“Second.”

“All those in favor of
dispensing with the reading? Opposed? The motion
carries.”

“Mr. President?”

“Debate is closed, Mr.
Travis.”

“Point of order,” Travis
said.

“Go ahead,” Austin said
wearily.

“The vote on the question of
separation should be by a show of hands and the result recorded by
the secretary,” Travis pronounced.

“Do I need to call for a
vote to do that?” Austin asked Travis.

Travis shook his head. “You
can ask for a vote in any form without any other
approval.”

“Very well,” Austin said.
“All those in favor of the resolution regarding the separation of
Texas from Coahuila, raise your right hand.” He counted, then
looked at Johnson. “I get thirty-six.”

“I agree,” Johnson said,
writing it down.

“All opposed?” Austin asked.
Once more, he counted hands. “Twelve?”

“Yes,” Johnson agreed. “Do
we have to list those who didn’t vote as abstentions?”

Austin looked at Travis. “Do
we?”

“I think that can be
assumed,” Travis said.

“Who’s gonna take this to
the State legislature in Saltillo and to the Mexican Congress in
Mexico City?” Wharton asked.

“Are you volunteering?”
Austin replied.

“If the Convention will pay
my expenses.”

“We’ll take up a
collection,” Austin said.

“I would like to go with Mr.
Wharton,” Rafael Manchola, the alcalde of Goliad, said. “And I will
pay my own expenses.”

“So ordered,” Austin said.
“Before we adjourn we need to appoint the members of a Central
Committee to convene future meetings.”

“And I need a list of the
chairmen of all the committees of correspondence,” Johnson reminded
them, “and the names of the commanders who will be raising
militias.”

November 21,
1832

St Louis,
Missouri

Marina ran up the gangplank
of the steamboat into Yank’s arms, hugged him fiercely and burst
into tears.

He kissed her on the lips
then looked into her eyes. “I’ve missed you and I love you but I’ve
lost the day count.”

She kissed him back. “Forget
all that silliness.”

He looked into her eyes. “Is
something wrong?”

“Why, because I’m
crying?”

“No, because you’re being
too nice.”

“That’s unkind,” she sobbed,
fighting for control.

“What’s wrong,
Marina?”

“I’ll tell you after you see
to my baggage.” She fumbled in her coat pocket for a
handkerchief.

“Your baggage is being taken
to our stateroom. What’s wrong?”

Marina wiped her eyes then
puffed out her cheeks. “Nan made me promise that I wouldn’t tell
you until we were in Texas with Thomas and Jane. Don’t make me
break my promise to her.”

“You just promised to tell
me what’s wrong after I’d seen to the baggage and I’ve done that,”
he said. “So which promise are you going to break, the one to Aunt
Nan or the one to me?”

“Let’s get away from all
these people.” She took his arm and walked with him to the river
side of the big paddle wheeler. “Your Uncle Thomas had a stroke. He
hung on for a few days but…” She touched his cheek. “I’m sorry
John.”

He looked away and blinked
back tears, then blew his nose. “How did Aunt Nan take it? Is she
okay?”

“She never so much as shed a
tear.” Marina hesitated. “She’s gone home now.”

“Home? Where was she when he
died?”

“No. She’s gone home to
Paris.”

“Paris isn’t her home any
more,” he protested. “She left there in 1776.”

“She says that Paris is her
home and that she’s going there and never coming back.”

Yank looked out at the
water. “So much sadness.”

“How is Jack taking
it?”

“The two of us had a bad
moment when we met at Prairie du Chien, but he’s coping.” Yank
wiped angrily at a tear that rolled down his cheek. “I’m going to
miss that little boy, Marina,” he choked. “I had such hopes for
him.”

Marina put her arms around
him. “Let it go.”

“No.” He kissed her on top
of the head. “I’m okay. It’s just that - I’m okay.”

“Of course you are. Come on.
Show me our stateroom and let’s talk about our new life in
Texas.”

November 23,
1832

Two Alone Ranch,
Texas

“Who was that at the gate?”
Jane asked.

“A settler named John
Francis that just came from San Felipe,” Thomas replied. “He says
that Ramón Músquiz, the political chief of the Department of Béxar,
ruled that our Convention was illegal.”

“Is Frank Wharton still
taking the resolutions to Mexico City?”

“No. Músquiz annulled our
resolutions and the ayuntamientos at San Felipe, Nacogdoches,
Gonzales and Liberty apologized to him for their participation in
the Convention. What a bloody waste of time.”

“So is that the end of
it?”

“Austin’s going to San
Antonio de Béxar to meet with Erasmo Seguin and the other political
leaders in hopes of persuading them to support the
resolutions.”

“Will he be able
to?”

“It really doesn’t matter as
long as Bustamante’s president. He’s not likely to look favorably
on a petition from backers of Santa Anna. That was my fault. I
misjudged Santa Anna.”

“I’m about half glad,” Jane
said.

“Why?”

“You won’t be running off to
any more meetings or conventions.”

“Were you talking about me?”
Anna asked, as she made her way slowly down the stairs.

“No,” Thomas replied. “We
were talking about Santa Anna.”

Jane watched Anna for a
moment. “You’re pregnant.”

“I know,” Anna
chuckled.

“When were you planning to
tell us?” Jane asked.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Anna
said.

Jane wrinkled her brow. “Why
not?”

Anna reached the bottom of
the stairs and took a deep breath. “Because you got so upset when I
miscarried.”

“You should have told us so
we could move you and Charlie downstairs,” Thomas
admonished.

“We’d have less privacy
downstairs and Charlie would hate that,” Anna replied. “He’s very
anxious to get us moved to our own place.”

“If he’d accept some help
you’d be in it already,” Thomas grumbled.

Anna shrugged. “What can I
say except that he’s very independent?”

“I don’t know why he keeps
his Texas Ranger job,” Jane complained.

“Because that’s what he
wants,” Anna replied. “If I can grant him that, you can
too.”

Thomas put his hand on
Jane’s arm to keep her from responding. “I know that living here
with us is hard for Charlie and we’ll do anything we can to help
you both.”

“Except Charlie doesn’t want
our help,” Jane said unpleasantly.

“You’re not the queen of us
all,” Anna snarled. “The whores and vaqueros may worship you but
Charlie and I don’t.”

“Stop.” Thomas raised his
hand. “Let’s not have another fight.”

“Fine.” Jane stalked out of
the room.

“I’m sorry.” Anna rubbed her
eyes. “But she treats me like I’m one of her children,
Thomas.”

“She’s afraid that she’s
barren, Anna. It’s eating at her.”

“What does that have to do
with me?”

“Nothing at all.” He shook
his head. “Just do me a favor and try to avoid fighting with her,
please. You and Charlie will have your freedom soon.”

December 1, 1832

Washington, District of
Columbia

“Mr. President?”

President Andrew Jackson
looked up from his desk. “Well?”

“There’s an old woman here.
She might be mad, but then again she’s well dressed
and…”

“And what? Out with it
please, I need to get this done.”