Texas History #1 Come And Take It

       I cannot allow today to pass without starting my series of Texas History Lessons.  Today, March 2, 2012, is the 176^th anniversary of the signing of the Texas Declaration of Independence.  This document was basically written by Thomas Jefferson and edited to fit the Texas situation by a committee of real estate operators headed by a lawyer named George. C. Childress.
 
      This day is to Texas as the Fourth of July is to America.  To commemorate this, I will submit a brief Texas history lesson.  In the future, I will add other lessons as they come to mind, or to recognize certain dates.  Later this week, I will ignore the anniversary of the fall of the Alamo.  I may do something later about that, but we lost that battle and it was not our finest hour.

     My history lessons, so far as dates, names, and other historical facts, will be as accurate as I can make them with proper research and use of my trusty memory.  I will, however, as any good historian, insert some details into each article which may or may not be absolutely factual.  These will be conclusions of my own, based upon the facts provided by my sources and the knowledge I have of human nature.  They will probably be as accurate as any other history book and I have as much right to do this as any other historian.  You should be able to recognize the small liberties I will take---they will parallel the basic story, or perhaps slide diagonally along next to it.  That’s what we historians do.  We interpret history to match our own private agenda---otherwise no one would read our books, because they would be just a boring collection of dated facts.

     The following is my take on what is usually claimed to be the first battle in the Texas War for Independence from Mexico.  As with many strongly held opinions in Texas, there are those who dispute this claim.

      In 1831, the city of Gonzales asked the Mexican government for some protection from the Comanches.  Because they didn’t want to station troops in Gonzales, but wanted to get along with the colonists, the garrison at San Antonio sent out a little cannon which shot golf ball-sized lead shots.  One historian said it was good for little more than starting a horse race.  It was not real accurate, but with a lot of practice the citizens could get it to shoot north most of the time.  It did make a lot of noise and shot branches out of trees, which disturbed the Indians.

     When the fires of revolution started glowing, Santa Anna sent word to the troops at San Antonio to go pick up the cannon—those ignorant Texians might use it against Mexico.  The citizens of Gonzales refused to send back the cannon, noting that there were still Indians out there in the woods.  A young lieutenant with a troop of cavalry was dispatched to pick it up.

     Now, these ole boys in Gonzales got to drinking and talking.  The more they talked, the more they drank.  The more they drank, the braver they got.  The braver they got, the louder they talked.  They sent some scouts out to recruit volunteers from the surrounding settlements.

     One of the guys stole a bed sheet off a clothesline and made a flag.  They were going to put a rattlesnake on it, with “Don’t Tread On Me” written under the snake, but no one could spell “tread”.  It had five letters.  They finally agreed to put a cannon on it, with all four-letter words “Come And Take It”.  They could agree on the spelling of that motto.

     While this was taking place, the Mexican squad was riding peacefully along the banks of the Guadalupe River.  They decided to make camp early a few miles west of town, get in a little fishing, and go into town the next morning to routinely pick up the little cannon.  They enjoyed a pleasant afternoon and turned in early.

     In the meantime, there was more than a little drinking going on in Gonzales.  Reinforcements from all around had joined the ranks of the rebels and they were spoiling for a fight.  A kid rode in and told them about some Mexican soldiers he had seen camped outside town.  The colonists wisely decided to have another little drink and plan their raid.  About midnight, they grabbed the cannon, some long rifles, shotguns, and knives and lit out to sneak up on the Mexican camp.  Tomorrow would be October 2, 1835, and they were about to make history.

     The Texians did not manage to sneak up on the Mexicans.  There were over a hundred of them now, mostly drunk and noisy.  A fog had descended during the night and the Gonzales boys were stumbling around in the dark, foggy woods at three am, hollering “Shhh!  They’s Mexkins out here.”  One of the Rebels fell off his horse and broke his nose.

     The Mexican lieutenant’s orders did not include fighting, so he was quietly gathering his men for a hasty retreat back into San Antonio.  At daylight, the Texians started firing into the camp with long rifles, the little cannon and all.  Someone accidentally managed to shoot two Mexican privates.  They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The rest of the troop escaped and beat it back to San Antonio.  They reported a bunch of crazy people out there in Gonzales.

      The Texians decided to go back to Gonzales and have a little drink or two, to celebrate the great victory.  The final tally was:  Two Mexicans dead and one Texian wounded. (Bloody Nose)

      This incident is largely reported to be the first shot fired in the Texas Revolution, and there is a monument about seven miles west of Gonzales at the site of the battle.  It is on FM 466, which is part of the designated “Texas Independence Trail”.

     The first shot of the revolution may have occurred a few months before the Gonzales battle, in June of 1835, when the second Anahuac “disturbance” occurred.  A 25 year old, hot-headed, gonorrhea-infected lawyer named William Barrett (Buck)Travis led a group of drunk Texians (what a surprise) in the attack of the Mexican garrison stationed at Anahuac.  The Mexicans surrendered.   Two days later, after everyone sobered up, the Mexicans were released and peacefully took over the little fort and tried to arrest Buck Travis.  Travis took off for parts unknown and landed a few months later at the Alamo.  You’ve heard about that.

The Six Flags over Texas on my Front Porch

     All these, and many other stories are told on my front porch, under the same six flags that flew over Texas all those many years ago.  Come by sometime in the evening and join me and we'll talk about it.  Bring your own whiskey.