Vol. XIV JANUARY, 1911 No. 3
The publication committee and the editors disclaim responsibility for views expressed by contributors to The Quarterly
On July 3, 1910, at his home in Austin, George Pierce Garrison died of heart disease. For over a year his health had been gradually failing and he had been coming slowly to a realization of the fact that his labors were exceeding his powers of endurance. Planning to work less arduously as soon as he could dispose of the second volume of the “Diplomatic Correspondence of the Republic of Texas,” which he was then engaged in editing, he was overtaken by death with the proofs of the volume upon his desk. His immediate task was nearly done, but, dying at the age of fifty-six, it can hardly be said that his life work had rounded to a perfect close. Had he been spared, his character and his influence would have continued to benefit the University of Texas, and his learning and industry would have continued to illumine the history of our country. Unfortunately, in place of his active presence, the memory of him alone now serves to guide and inspire.
George Pierce Garrison was born December 19, 1853, at Carrollton, Georgia. His father, Patterson Gillespie Garrison, and his mother, Mary Ann Curtiss Garrison, were Georgians of Georgian descent. His early experiences differed in nowise from those of the average Georgia boy of the period. He retained a pretty vivid recollection of war time and the accompanying privations, along with a considerable knowledge of negro life and character.
His early schooling was obtained at Sewanee College, Winchester, Tennessee, and at the Carroll Masonic Institute, Carrollton, Georgia. Struggling to make a living and to acquire an education, he came to Texas in 1874, where he taught school in Rusk and adjoining counties for five years. In 1879 he went to Scotland, and took the degree of L. A. (Literate in Arts) from the University of Edinburgh in 1881. Returning to Texas, he married Miss Annie Perkins of Rusk county in November, 1881, and taught school at San Marcos until the spring of 1882, when failing health forced him to quit teaching. He moved to a ranch in Hays county and busied himself with outdoor labors. His health improving, he accepted in 1884 an instructorship in English literature and history in the young University of Texas. He was made an assistant professor in 1888; an adjunct professor in 1889; an associate professor in 1891, and professor of American history in 1897.
Tuberculosis, which attacked him in 1882, seriously threatened his life in 1889. Partly by medical treatment but mainly by sheer will power he overcame this disease so thoroughly that his later years were free from the shadow of it.
In 1896 he took the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Chicago, and in 1910 Baylor University conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws. The death of Judge Gould in 1904 made Professor Garrison in point of service the senior member of the faculty of the University of Texas.
Professor Garrison was one of the founders of the Texas State Historical Association and was editor of The Quarterly from its beginning in 1897 until the time of his death. To his care The Quarterly owes much of the reputation which it has acquired among historical publications in this country. He was a member of the American Economic Association, of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, of the American Historical Association, and of various local clubs and associations. He was for several years a member of the Executive Council and of the Historical Manuscripts Committee of the American Historical Association, and at the time of his death he was chairman of the new Library and Historical Commission of Texas.
For several years Professor Garrison was a member of the school board of Austin. He took an active interest in local affairs as well as in those of Texas and the United States. He was for years a member of the Methodist Church, and had much to do with the building of the University Methodist Church in Austin. His relation to his family was almost ideal. His mother, his wife, two sisters, and four daughters survive him.
Such in brief is the bald outline of a life almost heroic. His writings, most of which are familiar to the readers of The Quarterly, will be found listed below. They have been received with favor by competent critics, they have won for their author a respectable place among American historians, and they speak for themselves. Professor Jameson has said of him, “It is not too much to say that he exerted more influence than all preceding students had ever exerted,” on the history of Texas. He availed himself of all the known historical records and sources, and nothing but the discovery of new material can seriously disturb the conclusions that he reached. Out of his class room have come a number of young Texas historians who are trained in the best methods of modern investigation and who are destined greatly to elucidate the history of Texas, of the South, and of the nation. Their work, and his, form his epitaph as an historian.
But the man was greater than his works. In him the scientific historian was ever subordinate to the patriotic citizen. He studied and taught history with unflagging zeal because he firmly believed that it revealed an unceasing moral purpose running through the ages, because he thought that the experience of the past could be profitably brought to bear on the problems of the future. He was an historian because he was a public-spirited man who firmly held that an insight into the experience of our race would greatly broaden and benefit each succeeding generation.
In this feeble effort to do justice to his memory, it is needless and impertinent to attempt to take his measure as an historian, and it is far better to lay stress upon what he was rather than upon what he did. It is well to do great things but better still to be great. Yet it is no easy task to describe him as he was. A modest, patient, prudent, brave, and kindly man he was, whose demerits were few and small and whose virtues were so thoroughly blended into a fine character as to give but little place for light and shade in picturing him. Only a friendship extending over many years justifies the poor attempt here made to convey some notion of the merits of the man to those who knew him not.
The most salient feature in his life was his power of continual growth. Throughout his life he increased in moral insight and intellectual power, and at his death he was a broader man in every way than he had ever been before. It is the sad fate of most men to stop advancing at relatively early years, but in his case the advance continued to the end at an increasing rate. His progress in youth was greatly retarded by adverse circumstances. He was twenty-six years of age before he entered the University of Edinburgh, and he had money enough only for two years of study there. Attacked by tuberculosis at the age of twenty-nine, for eight years he fought a life and death struggle, winning because he possessed an indomitable spirit. So it came to pass that, beset by disease and poverty, he reached his fortieth year before he found it possible to begin his historical studies in real earnest. These long years of struggle brought out the man that was in him, and, his disease conquered, the last fifteen years of his life were years of great progress and increasing usefulness.
Although a gentle and tolerant man, desirous of finding good in all men and little prone to severe judgments, he possessed all the rigor of an old Puritan and all the firmness of a granite rock when it came to compromising with evil. In cases involving morals he carefully decided upon the course to pursue or the judgment to adopt, and, his conclusion made, nothing save new facts could bend him from it. His desire to reach a correct conclusion sometimes delayed action, but the action, when it came, was always without fear or favor. He once said, half in jest and half in earnest, “I am moved neither by tears nor guns.” He combined in a remarkable manner an absolutely inflexible morality with a just appreciation of the weakness of human nature. Slow to form an opinion, sure to look carefully at all the aspects of a situation, accustomed to balance probabilities, versed in the intricacies of human nature, Professor Garrison had many of the qualifications of a great historian.
As a teacher he was highly regarded by his students, and he had the great power of coming into sympathetic personal contact with a very large number of them. He held that the first duty of a state university was to produce intelligent and patriotic citizens, and he tried to teach history so as to make his students worthy members of a democracy, a democracy seeking justice and as mindful of duties as of rights. He was clear in exposition, interested in students and their lives, ever animated by a noble purpose; therefore one is not surprised that both the negligent and the diligent thought well of him. He insisted that education must reach every human capacity, must fit for life, but not for life in a narrowly utilitarian sense.
It is obvious to those who have read his books that Professor Garrison possessed an excellent command of the English language. As a speaker he was effective, possessing a good voice and a pleasing presence. In making impromptu addresses he was often particularly happy as is evidenced by his admirable and partly unpremeditated reply (fortunately taken down at the time and printed in Volume IX of the University of Texas Record) to the felicitations showered upon him at the dinner given in his honor at the Driskill Hotel in 1909. His written style is careful and logical, abounds in passages of real literary merit, and is garnished here and there with quiet humor. He had a most extensive knowledge of the English Bible, an accomplishment all too rare in this generation, and could quote accurately many verses and several entire chapters. He was well read in English literature and was not unacquainted with the literature of antiquity. Through life he retained a fondness for good poetry, and in his youth he wrote a few verses himself. One of his lesser accomplishments was an ability to sing negro songs after the old plantation fashion, and by doing so he sometimes surprised people who knew him only in his professorial capacity.
Southern by birth and sympathy and warmly appreciative of all that was good in the civilization of the old South, Professor Garrison was always singularly dispassionate in his view of all questions relating to the Civil War. He did much to defend the South from accusations based on defective historical knowledge, but he regarded the war as a necessary step in the welding of the United States. He knew that the progress of civilization had altered and would continue to alter the relations originally existing between the states and the federal government. For the Constitution and the Judiciary he had an intelligent appreciation, but he did not regard either as incapable of improvement. While not unmindful of the benefits to be derived from a proper organization of governmental machinery, he maintained that the liberty and welfare of a people depend more upon its own intelligence and virtue than upon paper constitutions or particular governmental forms. Long study of the governments of Great Britain and the United States finally led him to the conclusion that the American system of checks and balances was in many ways developed to such an extent as to interfere with good government and check the free development of democracy. He came to believe in placing a good deal of power in the hands of public officials and in then holding them to a strict and frequent accountability to the voters. He therefore viewed with favor the British cabinet system and the commission form of government in our American cities. He regarded the obviously waning prestige of the states as compared with the growth of federal power as an inevitable process brought about by the progress of mankind. He was, however, a firm believer in local responsibility and in local self-government in local affairs, and thought that the proper division of power between the various local governments and the general government was rather a question of business administration than a proper subject of violent partisan controversy. He followed with keen interest the growth all over the world of the power of our race to govern itself wisely and justly. In those controversies that will probably continue to agitate the world during the twentieth century, he took the part of those who regard the rights of man as superior to the rights of property. Though he was attached to Texas as few men are, his patriotism was not provincial. He was more an American than a Texan, and as an American he did not shut his eyes to the merits of other nations or to the evils that flourish amid the good in our national life.
By temperament and training, Professor Garrison was a man of deep religious instincts. Although he accepted many of the more radical results of biblical higher criticism and although he was thoroughly convinced of the substantial truth of the evolutionary conception of the universe, he found it possible in all sincerity to remain a faithful member of an evangelical church. This he did not only because he regarded the Christian church as the greatest means of individual and social regeneration but also because he believed that the essentials of Christianity are so profoundly true as not greatly to need the help of much detailed historical evidence. A reverent man, loving truth, he looked with clear vision upon the universe and found there progress and a moral order. He knew that a diligent study of nature and man, coupled with an earnest effort to carry out the precepts of the Son of Man, would lead men near to the footstool of the Most High.
In attempting to describe the character and opinions of an educated man, one feels the inadequacy of words. Because example is better than precept, it has been the custom of biographers to depiet rather by incidents and aneedoles than by labored exposition. In this account the temptation to relate certain interesting and illustrative events in the life of Professor Garrison has often arisen. But many such details are needed to give a just idea of a man, and it has been thought better here to seek emphasis by means of brevity.
In bringing this inadequate account of my friend to an end, the sadness produced by his untimely death and by my own sense of personal loss is deepened by my inability to make plain the worth of him to those who did not know him. Let us therefore measure him by his aspirations, which are to be found accurately expressed in these noble words that he loved to quote from Tennyson's “Ulysses.”
“But something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.... 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and, sitting well in order, smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down; It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are— One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
BOOKS
The Civil Government of Texas. Philadelphia. Eldredge and Brother. 1898.
The History of Federal Control of Congressional Elections. St. Louis. The Christian Publishing Company. 1900.
Texas: A Contest of Civilizations. Boston. Houghton, Mifflin and Company. 1903.
Westward Extension (Volume XVII of The American Nation). New York. Harper and Brother. 1906.
Diplomatic Correspondence of the Republic of Texas. 2 volumes. Volume I is Annual Report of the American Historical Association, 1907, II; and volume II is Annual Report of the American Historical Association, 1908, II (in press). Washington. Government Printing Office.
ARTICLES
“Another Texas Flag,” The Quarterly of the Texas State Historical Association, III, 170-176. “Guy Morrison Bryan,” Ibid., 121-136. “Richard Montgomery Swearingen,” Ibid., 225-231. “The Summer School Movement,” The University of Texas Record, II, 269-274. “University Traditions,” Ibid., III, 112-118. “Address at the Installation of President Houston,” Ibid., VII, 42-45. “Historical Address at the Inaugural of President Mezes,” Ibid., VIII, 261-278. “Address at the James B. Clark Memorial,” Ibid., IX, 125-128. “The Lot of the Reformer,” a faculty commencement address, University of Texas, June 16, 1891. “Utilitarian Education,” Public Opinion, 588-589, September 19, 1891. “A Woman's Community in Texas,” The Charities Review, III, 28-46 (1893). “Texas,” Johnson's Universal Cyclopedia (1895). “Historians,” Popular Science Monthly, November, 1900. Reprinted in The Texan, December 11, 1900. “The Archivo General de Mexico.” The Nation, May 30, 1901. “Southwestern History in the Southwest,” Annual Report of the American Historical Association, 1901, I, 231-242. “Connecticut Pioneers Founded Anglo-American Texas,” The Connecticut Magazine, IX, No. 3. “The First Stage of the Movement for the Annexation of Texas,” The American Historical Review, X, 72-96. “A Memorandum of Moses Austin's Journey” (1796-1797), a document edited with annotations, The American Historical Review, V, 518-542. “The University of Texas and its New President,” Review of Reviews, 682-685, December, 1905. “The Truancy of the Texas Navy,” Harper's Monthly Magazine, forthcoming.
Daughters of the Republic, Comrades, Ladies and Gentlemen:
Texas, mindful of her debt of gratitude to the great pioneer of her civilization, has always cherished his memory, and has now brought here his mortal remains for final interment. More than half a century ago a single portrait was hung in the hall of the old House of Representatives to the right of the Speaker's chair. It was the portrait of Stephen F. Austin, placed there by the men who once followed him to the wilderness in search of homes, who had shared with him its perils and who knew him best. When, in 1855, another state house was erected, the same portrait was placed to the right of the Speaker's chair, and when, in later years, this more enduring capitol was built, this full length portrait of Austin, which you see, was placed to the right of the Speaker's chair. At the request of Austin's kindred, I then presented it to a joint session of the Legislature in their name,
2 and you will excuse me for remembering that I then expressed the hope that Texas some day
would bring his ashes from their resting place near the gulf and deposit them here in the State cemetery, where she has buried many of her illustrious dead. We are about to see that wish accomplished, and by your indulgence, and at the request of Austin's kindred and a joint committee of the Legislature, I will now speak of his life and services.
Liberty, regulated by law, was won for us by men of a past generation, and inasmuch as it was the most valuable heritage they could bestow, by so much it is our duty to perpetuate a knowledge of when, how, and by whom it was secured, and thus preserve the record of their services before it is obscured and clouded by tradition. In the evolution of our race the curtain is about to rise on an era in which the achievement of an invading conqueror will no longer attract, and when the people will bow with reverence only before the shrine of those who devoted their lives to the enfranchisement of man, or to lifting him up to a higher plane of knowledge. He whose coffined remains repose in that casket was the great leading pioneer of an advancing civilization in Texas.
Before reviewing his eventful career, indulge me while I speak of his birth and early life. He was born one hundred and seventeen years ago, at Austinville, in the mountains of Virginia, on the third day of November, 1793, the year when George Washington was elected President for his second term. He went, when yet a child, to the wild territory of northern Louisiana, where he became familiar with the dangers of a frontier life. His education was finished in Lexington, Kentucky, and there, while still a youth, he attracted the attention of Henry Clay. His first public service was in the Legislature of the Territory of Missouri, when he was hardly old enough to be eligible. There he met Senator Thomas H. Benton, through whose influence, and that of Mr. Clay, he was appointed, before he was thirty years old, United States judge for the Territory of Arkansas.
The present era in which man is exploring and utilizing all the forces of nature had not dawned when Austin grew to manhood. No steam vessel was seen on the river or the ocean; no thread was spun in a cotton factory; no railways were in the world; and though Franklin had brought electricity from the clouds, the telegraph and telephone were unknown.
The revolution of the American colonies in 1776 had startled the world, and the French people, roused from their servile endurance of tyranny through the centuries by the writings of Jean Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire, and Tom Payne, and by the example of Lafayette, cut off their king's head the very year in which Austin was born, and began their career of conquest and of carnage. Spain then ruled nearly all of South America, except Brazil, and all the shores of the Pacific on both continents up to British America. But when, in 1808, Napoleon placed his brother Joseph on the throne of Spain, the spirit of revolt passed like a flash over South America and Mexico, and the patriot priests, Hidalgo and Morelos, discarded their priestly robes, and, sword in hand, led a revolt against the tyranny of the viceroys.
From 1803 to 1819 both Spain and the United States claimed the territory of Texas from the Sabine to the Rio Grande, but the treaty of De Onis in 1819 settled the controversy in favor of Spain. From 1800 until the revolution of Iturbide, Spain made but one effort to colonize Texas with a Spanish agricultural population. In 1804 that government decreed the settlement of three thousand families on the San Marcos river, but the enterprise failed. That desire to colonize had its origin in a jealous distrust of the aggressive spirit of the Anglo-Americans, and could only have been intended to establish a picket guard against their encroachments. Philip Nolan had before that led fifty armed men from the western frontier of the United States into the wilds of Texas, but he and nearly all his men were destroyed by a Spanish force on the waters of the Trinity or Brazos. In 1813 the wilds of Texas were again invaded by a lawless force of seven hundred men from the lower Mississippi, led by Guiterrez and Kemper, Magee and Perry, who, after capturing the presidio of La Bahia, and slaying most of the garrison, took possession of San Antonio, and a few miles from that city defeated a Spanish army of three thousand men commanded by Don Elisondo. They were afterwards defeated themselves in a battle near the Medina river by a Spanish army under Arredondo, in which over one thousand men were slain. The survivors of the battle were pursued and killed all along the old San Antonio road that crossed the Colorado eighteen miles below here. Their bones remained unburied until 1822, when the governor, Trespalacios, at the request of Stephen F. Austin, had their skulls gathered and interred. Again in 1815 an invading force of revolutionists from our southern states, led by Mina and Perry, and another in 1819 commanded by Long entered the territory of Texas, only to perish. More human lives were sacrificed in those lawless invasions than were slain in the Texas revolution of 1836. Our written histories tell but little of those invasions. Available sources would reveal much more.
A race hatred of Anglo-Americans so intense resulted from those repeated invasions that Salcedo, the governor of the Spanish internal provinces of the East, wrote to his superior at the capital that if he had the power he would not permit a bird to fly from the Sabine to the Rio Grande.
One man and only one, in the United States made an attempt in 1820 to secure homes in Texas for his countrymen by peaceful methods. Moses Austin, the father of him whose remains lie before us, reached San Antonio in November, 1820, but was promptly ordered by Governor Martinez to leave the territory.
Mortified and discouraged, Moses Austin on leaving the governor's office met on the plaza the Baron de Bastrop, whom he had once met in the United States, and whose influence with Martinez was great. Bastrop obtained from the governor a suspension of his order, and within a week Martinez gave his approval to the application for the introduction of immigrants.
How often the destiny of men and of states has its origin in trifles! Tracing to its remote results that accidental meeting with Baron de Bastrop, Texas was colonized; then a revolt established her independence; her annexation to the United States provoked the war with Mexico in 1846, which was terminated by the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and that treaty doubled the territory of our union and carried her flag to the Pacific.
I am quite aware that much of what I have said and will yet say is trite history, but the Austins made history; and it is chiefly by its light that we can know them. Moses Austin, robbed on his return by his companions, sick and for days only saved from starvation by eating acorns, at last reached home, to die from the effects of exposure and hardships. From his deathbed he urged his son Stephen to follow up the enterprise he had begun.
The son observed that dying request, and resigned his exalted office of federal judge to establish civilization in a wild and unexplored land. We hardly know in the light of after events which most to admire, his filial respect for a dying father which caused him to relinquish in his early manhood an exalted office with its honors and a competency for life, his dauntless career in a foreign land, or the high intelligence that sustained him through every trial.
That portrait to the right of the Speaker's chair presents him as he appeared in 1824, standing under a live oak with his rifle, and clothed in buckskin. Before tracing further his career, indulge me while I read a description of the man written by his private secretary, Moses Austin Bryan.
Austin was slender, sinewy and graceful, easy and elastic in his movements, with small hands and feet, dark hair, which curled when damp, large hazel eyes, and in height about five feet ten inches. His face was grave and thoughtful, when not in the social circle, then it was animated and lit up by his gentle love, his voice was soft, though manly, his conversation fluent, attractive and persuasive, his magnetic power over others gave him great influence over the leading men of Texas, and his strong, practical intellect, his thorough forgetfulness of self and devotion to Texas, bound the great mass of the people to him.
Such was the man who, with fifteen companions, started from Natchitoches in Louisiana in July, 1821, and followed the old mission trail across Texas through the prairies and wilderness to San Antonio. 3 He saw on that trail no human habitation. The Franciscan priests, with an “intendent” and an armed escort, had traveled over it in their annual visitations to the missions across the continent for a hundred years, but it had not been otherwise used, except by filibustering invaders and the wild Indians, for no commerce passed over it. Scattered along that road from San Antonio to the Colorado, Austin saw the unburied bones of the adventurers who had followed Kemper and Magee, who were pursued and slain after the battle on the Medina—ghastly reminders of Spanish resentment.
He was promptly recognized by Governor Martinez as the representative of his father, on the 12th of August, 1821, and he then explored the country between the waters of the Colorado and the Brazos—two hundred years after the pilgrims landed on the shores of New England. Going then to New Orleans, he returned with his first immigrants to the banks of the Brazos in January, 1822, and established there the first permanent settlement of American white men in Texas. Each immigrant bore a certificate of good moral character and of his profession of faith in the Christian religion. They suffered privation for the first winter, for a boat loaded with provisions was seized by the Karankawa Indians, and they passed the autumn and winter of 1822 without sugar, coffee or bread, subsisting on deer, buffalo, bear and wild horses. Another year found them abundantly supplied and contented, and by the fall of 1824 Austin had introduced four hundred families. The first immigrants were not strong enough to punish the Indians, but two years afterward Austin led a force of sixty men, and by killing half the tribe stopped their depredations.
Indulge me while I describe the men with whom Austin first settled Texas—for without that knowledge the story of their achievements would sound like romance. Active and strong of limb were they, and being inured to hardships from their childhood, their chief joy was in the excitement of the chase. Every pioneer knew that in his new home security of life must depend on a steady nerve and a sure aim with the rifle, which was his constant companion. Only the self-reliant would dare colonial perils. They were a hardy race, among whom hospitality and truth were universal. I knew many of them well fifty-eight years ago, and now assert that nowhere in the world have I ever known any class of men who excelled them in the practice of hospitality, and in that individualism and self-reliance that make the invincible soldier.
Such were the men who followed Austin to colonize Texas, and fought with Houston at San Jacinto. General Sam Houston told me once when describing that battle, at the request of Hon. A. J. Hamilton and myself, that though outnumbered two to one he never for a moment doubted the issue, for all his men were fearless marksmen, and were thirsting for revenge on account of the massacre of the Alamo.
Nor were they all destitute of culture, for Motley, John Bunton, Potter, Carson, Rusk and still others who signed the declaration of independence were all accomplished men. No degrading crime was ever charged against any of Austin's colonists on the Colorado. The luxury that enervates had never entered their rude homes, in which each one reigned, poor, it is true, but contented, for he was blessed with abundance. No miserable social distinction, based on money or fashion, divided them into sets and classes. The late John H. Reagan told me more than once that before the revolution of 1836 there were not twenty men in all the colonies who were worth five thousand dollars each. Their common pasture was the broad prairie that stretched westward seven hundred miles to the Rio Grande, while the black bear, antelope, millions of buffalo, and deer supplied them with both food and raiment. We who rejoice in fruitful fields and growing cities can never love Texas as did its first pioneers who, while it was yet vocal with the music of the wilderness, delighted in the waving beauty of its untrodden grass and wild flowers.
A change of rulers in Mexico compelled Austin to visit its capital, for the last of the Spanish viceroys had been expelled in 1821, and he needed from the government of Iturbide a confirmation of his empresario contract. He made this journey of one thousand miles over a road threatened by Indians as far as the Rio Grande, and thereafter infested by robber bands. To avoid being plundered he went on foot and alone from San Luis Pótosi to the City of Mexico disguised as a beggar, and in April, 1822, reached the Mexican capital. There he first met Santa Anna and the Emperor Iturbide, whose coronation he witnessed as he did also his abdication. During the bloody era that then convulsed Mexico, he learned to speak Spanish like his native tongue, and after securing the confidence of rival chiefs returned with his contract sanctioned and enlarged by the central authority. While watching the shifting scenes of the revolutionary drama there, he assisted in writing the first draft of the Mexican constitution, afterwards in substance adopted in 1824. This fact has been questioned by one historian who never knew Austin or had access to his papers, but it is apparently attested by his papers, which are in a vault of our State University.
Thus, one man, solitary and alone, unaided either by wealth or powerful friends, induced the Mexican government to reverse its policy of a century and permit the colonization here of the very race it had watched with jealous distrust. Calm, intellectual, self-possessed, accomplished as a scholar, gentle as a woman, yet fearless as a lion, Austin was admirably equipped for the great work before him. His greatness shines with increasing luster as we see him moving forward, still unaided, and overcoming every obstacle in his path. Milam, De Witt, Cameron, Hewitson and Robertson followed his example, and in a few years the smoke from pioneer cabins from the Sabine to the Guadalupe gave token that freedom was advancing westward—it had come to stay.
In 1823 he repaired to Monterey and obtained from the provincial deputation of Nuevo Leon, Coahuila and Texas almost plenary authority over his colony. De la Garza made him a lieutenant colonel and commander in Texas, with power to make peace or war with the Indians, to appoint judges and secure the administration of justice by an appeal to himself. The colonists knew nothing of Mexican law. Austin prescribed rules to govern them and penalties for offenses. Horse thieves and lawless men were scourged from his colonies, and Indian forays stopped by quick retaliation.
Thus Austin, who had planted the first colony, was its first commander, judge, and law-giver. Perhaps never before on this continent was any man clothed with such varied and extraordinary powers by a government to whose manners and customs he was an alien, but so justly did he rule that no one questioned or resisted his authority, and so considerate was he of the rights, the prosperity and happiness of them all, that they loved him as their benefactor, and repaid his solicitude for them by their acts of gratitude.
In 1827 he had colonized one thousand families under his enlarged contracts, and settled them from near the mountains to the gulf. Abundant harvests rewarded their labor and now there was plenty everywhere. Their land titles Austin issued from San Felipe de Austin, which was named after him. Issuing titles, adjusting surveys, reconciling differences, administering justice, preserving peace with a jealous central authority, and protecting the colonists against Indian forays had employed all his time and required constant vigilance.
If man's dignity should be measured by his usefulness to others, then no other man who ever trod Texas soil can outrank Stephen F. Austin, for this man who inspired constitutional law for revolutionary states at a foreign capital, returned to his home to eclipse that achievement by the patient toil and high intelligence which prepared a just government for his own race, and helped to establish the supremacy of equal laws. From 1823 to 1827 was the happiest period of his life in Texas, for his colonists were prospering and contented, the central government confided in him, and no ambitious leader had yet come to sow discord and weaken his authority. But ambitious men came when the colonies grew strong, and threatened eastern Texas with what was then called the “Fredonian war.” Through Austin's influence with the Mexican chief, Saucedo, peace was restored and an armed force of Mexican soldiers which had gone from San Antonio to punish the colonists was withdrawn. Thus, he who had settled the first colonists interposed to protect the Anglo-Americans in their first revolutionary outbreak.
Again in 1832, after the affairs of violence at Anahuac and Velasco, the Mexican General Mexia was sent to chastise the colonists. Austin, then at Saltillo, hastened to Matamoras, and, going with Mexia to the mouth of the Brazos at Velasco, acted as a trusted mediator and averted war. The grateful colonists gave him a banquet and toasted him as “the angel of mercy and harbinger of peace.”
Thus twice were the colonies on the verge of being invaded and destroyed before they were strong enough to make successful resistance, and twice the danger was averted by the influence and presence of their trusted leader.
But henceforth he was to suffer by imprisonment and from the treachery of friends, and, with his health destroyed, his life was to be sacrificed on the altar of duty. In 1833 he was chosen with two others by a convention of the people to go to Mexico and request for Texas separate statehood in the Mexican republic. With conscious rectitude he went, and went alone, for his associates shrank from the peril involved in the mission. While returning home, after its failure, he was arrested at Saltillo, taken back to Mexico and confined for nearly two years, a part of that time in a dungeon of the former inquisition. For three months he was imprisoned in a dark, damp cell, without a ray of light, not even being permitted to see or speak to his jailer, who fed him through a hole in his door—his only companion being a pet mouse. Money at last softened the rigor of confinement, until he was freed by a general amnesty law. Thus tortured and stripped of all except his life, his courage never failed; in the darkest hour he was willing to die for his convictions of duty to his people; for he had told the speculators at the Mexican capital who wished to remand Texas to territorial vassalage, that rather than take the fabulous price that they offered him to desert the colonists and cease his opposition to their designs, he would submit to having his arm torn from the shoulder. Never did his character shine with more luster than when he suffered, a modern Regulus, in a foreign prison. From that prison he staggered forth with wasted frame and tottering step. From the effects of the solitary confinement in that damp dungeon Austin never recovered.
His private papers showed that he expended $30,000 of his private means on that mission to Mexico, the repayment of which by Texas he never applied for, nor will any of his heirs request it. These heirs, some of whom are before me, prefer to think of that money as a sacrificial offering by their great kinsman for the separate statehood of Texas.
Thus he who had established the colonies, guarded their interest in every vicissitude, twice averted war, prescribed laws and established courts, was the first martyr to their aspirations for separate statehood.
In September, 1835, after his release from prison, Austin landed on his return home at the mouth of the Brazos. His return was hailed with acclamations of joy and banqueting, as for one risen from the grave. His advice for an immediate “consultation” of the people was quickly followed, and before six weeks had passed a little army had assembled with Austin as its chief.
The speed with which the people organized with arms in their hands may seem a mystery. But the butchery of Mexican republicans at Zacatecas by Santa Anna had alarmed the colonists for their impending fate, when the return of Austin awakened new hope. He was not yet ready for a declaration of independence, but he was determined to resist the encroachment of Santa Anna upon the republican constitution. The news of Austin's position sped quickly to the cabins of the colonists. They heard it with joy. No carpet knights were they, when home was in peril, but with a kiss to wife and babes they shouldered their rifles and formed an army. Then from the Guadalupe to the Brazos, and away up among the red lands of the east the deer were safe for a season, for the hunters had gone to seek more dangerous game. No rival chief had yet come to dispute his leadership, and on the 11th of October, 1835, Austin was chosen by acclamation to lead these hunters to the field. They chose wisely. He alone among all the men in Texas offered to pledge all his private fortune for her independence. As the journals show, soon afterward he did pledge his whole estate to obtain the first loan of money for the revolution.
Let us pause now and consider how desperate were the chances against Texas in that dark hour of her trial. We glory in the triumph of the thirteen colonies over Great Britain, but it bears no comparison to the heroic struggle of Texas for independence. The thirteen colonies had two and a half millions of people, and a wide ocean separated them from England. Texas, with less than six thousand men all told, fought a powerful republic which contained a population of over seven millions and whose boundary was contiguous to her own. England was embarrassed by a powerful opposition to the war at home begun by the elder Pitt; Texas had no friends in Mexico. England was then engaged in a European war; Mexico had only Texas to contend with. The thirteen colonies were aided by France, who sent men, ships and munitions of war; Texas, without national recognition and with no aid except from individual volunteers, won her independence single-handed and alone. The successful struggle of Texas for independence is without a parallel in the history of the world.
The men of Austin's army cried, “On to San Antonio,” and then with the assistance of such men as Rusk, Frank Johnson, Burleson, Milam, Bowie, and Fannin, the Mexicans were defeated at Concepcion and driven to the Alamo for cover. Austin was no longer the “harbinger of peace,” for he was the first leader of a Texas army against Mexican despotism, and with the prairie all burned west of San Antonio, the surrender of the Mexican General Cos was only a matter of time. During the operations before San Antonio, Austin, still suffering from his prison confinement, was so weak that his aide-de-camp, Colonel Austin Bryan, says his servant had to assist him in mounting his horse.
And now this man, who had defended the colonists in every vicissitude of fortune, was ordered by the consultation to a different field. Reinforcement from the United States was needed to help Texas in the spring of 1836 against another invading army, and in November, 1835, Austin was called on to go with W. H. Wharton and Dr. Archer and appeal for men, arms and ammunition. The selection was a wise one, and he obeyed without a murmur; he wrote to the consultation, “I am at all times ready to serve Texas in any capacity where I may be most useful, but should I leave at once, some prudence will be needed to keep this army together.” Had he been an ambitious Caesar who refused to obey the senate when ordered to turn over his legions to Pompey, discord and strife would have supplanted harmony, and freedom would have been imperiled by rival factions.
From New Orleans to the Potomac he portrayed with impassioned eloquence the dangers before his people, and their need for help; nor did he plead in vain, for he spoke to a kindred race who helped with money and munitions of war. His mission to the states kept him from San Jacinto, but the help he secured made San Jacinto possible.
San Jacinto was won, and its hero, General Sam Houston, was then elected over Austin as President of the republic in 1836, for the soldiers, flushed with victory, espoused the cause of their victorious leader. History thus repeated itself. The great author of the American declaration of independence, the greatest diplomat and statesman of them all, and the wise leaders who formed the constitution, had all to bide their time for the presidency until Washington, the military leader, had been honored.
The contest between the partisans of General Houston and those of Austin was a bitter one, but it was followed by a close friendship and alliance between those leaders under circumstances that illustrate the greatness of both men. When Houston was elected he had only San Jacinto and Santa Anna—nothing more! No military chest, no credit, no stable government, no recognition amongst the nations, no navy, no army and no means of supporting one. Then knowing what perils were before him and looking all over Texas for some statesman to aid him, he chose Austin above all others for his high intelligence and patriotism, and asked him if he would ignore the bitterness of the late contest and become his chief advisor as secretary of state. That single act lifts Houston above the plane of the ordinary statesman and marks him as a patriot and a great man; and he was appealing to a great man, for with Austin, ambition, resentment and offices were all as “wafted dust on the balances,” when Texas needed him, and he went at once to Houston's side as secretary of state. It was a noble sacrifice of pride to duty, and history records few others like it in the careers of public men. How noble was it in Houston to bow his crest before his defeated antagonist and by supplicating his aid in the most important duty before him, announce thus to his own followers that Austin was a greater man than any of them! If that thing had happened in this era of machine politics, Houston would have been denounced as ungrateful to his own partisans, and Austin as a servile sycophant. But in the light of history, their names shine like twin stars seen between sifted clouds at midnight. What an object lesson to those who, regardless of public interest, can see no virtue in a partisan opponent, and bestow favors only on the parasites who elevate them!
Never until the lamented Garrison published the diplomatic correspondence of the Republic of Texas did this generation know the great ability of Austin as a diplomat. He armed Wharton, our envoy at Washington, with convincing arguments not only for a recognition of independence, but for annexation to the Union. But there was to be no cringing supplication, for he made it plain that when Texas entered the Union it must be as a coequal sovereign, retaining full ownership of all her territory, and that it should remain as the constitution adopted eight months before had dedicated it—one-half for the people and the other half for the education of their posterity forever. That was the first keynote to all the future policy of Texas, which has kept her one and undivided from the Sabine to the Rio Grande and from the Panhandle to the gulf.
To speak of this man in the language of undeserved eulogy, would be unjust to him and his own memory would condemn it; yet we can truly affirm that such was his intellectual organism, his self-poise amid difficulties, and the purity of his private life, that few men in ancient or modern times have equaled him. I have examined his public and private correspondence now in our State University, and for years I enjoyed the friendship of his trusted friend and companion, Colonel Frank Johnson, who loved and almost idolized him. His colonists loved him as their friend and benefactor. They named their children for him, and their families rejoiced when he came. He had a welcome in every cabin—and he who never knew the comforts of home with wife and children of his own, lavished the affections of his noble nature on the children of his colonists. The purity of his life, which was revealed in his face, softened his habitual dignity, and deprived it of austerity. No ambitious warrior was he, animated by a love of conquest—he struck only in defense of home—no knight-errant, seeking fame through adventure; his greatest triumph was in the promotion of peace; no visionary dreamer intent to accomplish the impossible; his well-balanced mind measured in advance all difficulties, and they vanished before his energy.
General Sam Houston in his last great speech in the United States Senate, said:
Stephen F. Austin was the father of Texas. This is the designation justly accorded to him, as will be testified to by every man who is acquainted with the primitive history of Texas or its progress as long as he lived. Stephen F. Austin is entitled to that honor. It is due to his friends, to whom his memory is most dear and sacred. Sir, posterity will never know the worth of Stephen F. Austin—the privations he endured—the enterprise he possessed—his undying zeal, his ardent devotion to Texas and its interests and his future hopes connected with its glorious destiny.
General Mirabeau Lamar said:
The claims of General Austin upon the affections of the people of Texas are of the strongest kind. He was not only the founder of our republic, but scarcely a blessing has flowed to our country which might not be fairly attributed to his unwearied exertion for its welfare, whilst almost every calamity which has befallen it might have been averted by an adherence to his wise and prudent counsels.
The late Hon. Guy M. Bryan said of him:
The world has offered but few examples of superior intelligence and sagacity; and as for disinterestedness and intelligent philanthropy, his long-suffering for the weal of others, his patient endurance under persecution, his benevolent forgiveness of injuries and his final sacrifice of health, happiness and life in the service of his country, all conspire to place him without a rival among the first patriots and the best of men.
Such was the estimate of all men of that day, for on the 18th of October, 1839, while his memory was yet fresh in the minds of men, it was toasted, standing, and in silence, at the first banquet ever given in this city, on the day when the archives of the government were first brought here. Lamar, then President of the republic; Burleson, the shield of the frontier, and James G. Swisher, who was a captain at San Jacinto, and who fought with the forlorn hope at the capture of San Antonio in 1835, were among the guests. They drank to the memory of Austin in these words: “Whatever may be the pretensions of others, Stephen F. Austin will always be considered as the father of Texas.”
Austin, in writing to General Gaines of the United States army in 1836, said: “The prosperity of Texas has been the object of my labors, the idol of my existence; it has assumed the character of a religion for the guidance of my thoughts and actions for fifteen years, superior to all pecuniary or personal views.”
In a cold room he was writing for two days and nights his final instructions to the Texas envoy to Washington, but the labor was too much for the frail victim of a Mexican dungeon. On the 27th of December, 1836, while the Christian world was rejoicing over the advent of a Redeemer, Austin breathed his last. His dying thoughts were of Texas. In his delirium he said: “Independence is acknowledged—it is in the papers,—Dr. Archer told me so,” and then the pale messenger with inverted torch touched him, and he returned to the bosom of his God.
Every flag in the republic went to half mast, and when the papers announced that the “father of Texas is no more,” all knew who had died. President Houston and Lamar, with the heads of department, bore him to the grave, and Houston, sorrowing for a great loss to the republic, sprinkled the first dust on his coffin.
Thus his life was sacrificed on the altar of duty.
And now we will place the remains of the great patriot near the monuments of those whom he loved, and who helped him make this mighty state—Colonel Frank Johnson, his companion and friend; General Hardeman, who, when a boy, followed him, rifle in hand; Guy Bryan, his nephew, who in childhood climbed his knee and loved him; Wallace, his trusted scout; Albert Sidney Johnston, Burleson, Scurry, Frank Lubbock, and Hugh McLeod will sleep by his side, and near them Hemphill and Lipscomb! What a group of immortals will surround him!
It is not given us to know what the Great Power behind all visible phenomena did with the soul when it left its final casket; we can only hope that it found a better home. Earth and sky, the voices of nature, its harmonies and beauties, all proclaim that God is good, and that He did not plant this universal hope for immortality through tantalizing caprice. He who provides food for the hungry body, will somewhere, somehow, at some time satisfy the soul that hungers after immortality. If this hope is a vain dream, and the spirit of man is annihilated by death, like the flame of a candle blown out, then life is a tragedy so full of disappointment that he who dreads to die should fear to live. No! No! If the revolving wheel of time and change destroys no atom in all this world, how can the quick spirit of man, which is king over all, perish? Never. The strong and subtle energies of the soul will find full development beyond this transitory existence, and amid the prophetic splendors of an eternal dawn.
1. The Condition of the Problem.—A statement as to the conditions under which this paper was written is pertinent here. One has only to glance over the works in English which deal with the general history of Texas to note the absence of information bearing upon the subject which I have endeavored to treat. The standard histories of Texas give only isolated references here and there to Apache relations in Texas between 1718 and 1750. Indeed, so scanty are their accounts on this point that they may be entirely ignored. Of monographic discussions of the subject, there are none. 5 Although ethnologists have written more or less of the Apaches and their various subdivisions, very little pertaining to the period and region covered by this paper has been produced. 6 The reason for such a paucity of information on the subject in English works is that the material from which a history of this topic can alone be constructed has been buried hitherto in manuscripts written in a foreign language and preserved, for the larger part, in foreign archives.
Of Spanish works, only two are important for the subject. Antonio Bonilla, in his Breve Compendio, which has only recently been printed, gives a brief outline of Apache hostilities in Texas; 7 and Arricivita, in his Crónica Apostólica y Seráfica (México, 1791), gives a considerable amount of information concerning the efforts of the Franciscans to reduce the Apaches of Texas to mission life. Indeed, he is practically the only one who has written anything upon this phase of the subject. In most respects, however, Arricivita emphasizes the history, if at all, from the standpoint of the missionary, to whose side he naturally inclines. At several points, nevertheless, both authors have been useful in supplementing the documents which I have used. 8
Having practically nothing in print to guide me, I have had to rely almost entirely upon manuscript sources. The information herein presented has been gathered from a wide range of documents, whose originals are in the Archivo General y Público of Mexico, the archives of the College of Santa Cruz de Querétaro and of Guadalupe de Zacatecas, the state archive of Coahuila at Saltillo, the Béxar and Nacogdoches archives at Austin, Texas, the San Antonio mission records, and in other miscellaneous repositories. 9
2. The Aim of This Paper.—The primary aim in writing this paper was to prepare an introduction to the history of the Franciscan missions established for the Apache Indians in the middle of the eighteenth century on the San Sabá and Nueces rivers of western Texas. To understand these missionary activities it scemed necessary to examine carefully the previous relations between the eastern Apache Indians and their Spanish neighbors. Coupled with this motive was the consideration that Apache relations, though forming a large factor in the history of Spanish colonization in western and central Texas, have been all but unknown. This consideration has seemed to justify, in this first special treatment of the subject, what may be regarded as a painful amount of detail. Since the ethnology of the eastern Apaches has been as little known as their early relations with the Spaniards, some effort has been made in the course of the study, to gather and combine what could be learned concerning their early organization and customs. 10
3. Spanish Activities in Texas Before 1718.—Spanish interest in Texas began in the early sixteenth century. The description of the country given by Cabeza de Vaca and his companions in 1536 gave rise to many exploring expeditions in which Texas figured to a greater or lesser degree, but it was not until a century and a half later that definite steps were taken to occupy this region.
Fear of French aggression, a desire to open up a short route between Havana and New Mexico by way of the Bay of Espíritu Santo, and the missionary zeal of the Spanish friars led to the sending of an expedition in 1689 under Captain Alonzo de León, who found La Salle's fort and explored the Bay of Espíritu Santo. In 1690 a second expedition was led by De León. The French fort was now destroyed, and a mission was established near the Neches among the Hasinai, or Texas, Indians. A few months later a second mission was founded in the same locality.
To strengthen these missions by the erection of others, to investigate rumors of French settlements, and to secure a hold in the Cadodacho country, Don Domingo Terán de los Ríos was sent out in 1691. But his expedition was a comparative failure, and two years later the missions already established were abandoned.
It has been generally believed that the Spaniards gave little thought to Texas from the time of the abandonment of the missions in 1693 until Saint Denis's expedition in 1714. But recent investigations and many documents now available show that such is not the case. During all these years there was a steady advance of missionary work northward from Coahuila. In the years 1699-1701 the missions of San Juan Bautista, San Bernardo, and San Francisco Solano were established on the Rio Grande, and ministered to the Indians living north of that stream. About 1703 Father Hidalgo began his long-continued effort to get aid in reestablishing the missions among the Hasinai. In 1707 an attempt was made to advance the mission frontier to the Rio Frio, and in the same year Diego Ramón made an expedition to the Colorado. Two years later Fathers Espinosa and Olivares went with a party of soldiers to the Colorado, where they expected to meet the Hasinai Indians and to arrange for reducing them to mission life. During this period many of the Indians who were served at the Rio Grande missions came from the region of San Antonio. Thus, viewed from the missionary's standpoint, the establishment of a mission at San Antonio in 1718 was not a sudden advance, but merely the next logical step in the expansion of the Coahuila mission frontier. 11
In 1714 Saint Denis made his overland journey into Spanish territory, which aroused the civil authorities to renewed activities, and Captain Domingo Ramón was now appointed to lead an expedition to refound the missions of eastern Texas. In the years 1716-1717 six missions and a presidio were erected under his direction between the Neches and Red rivers, and thus the Spaniards put forward an incontrovertible claim to the possession of Texas—that of actual occupation.
By this action French advance was guarded against on the Louisiana frontier. But in 1718 New Orleans was founded, and orders were given by the French for the reoccupation of the Bay of Espíritu Santo. In the same year San Antonio was founded by the Spaniards, in part as an answer to this French activity on the Gulf and in part to extend missionary work among the Coahuiltecan tribes. And thus the most important center in the history of Spanish Texas began to play a part in the life of the province. 12
4. The “Apaches de Oriente.”—As has already been pointed out, the early history of the western Texas settlements, of which San Antonio was the center, is, in a very large measure, a history of relations with the Apache Indians who lived to the west and northwest. The Apaches are a branch of the Athapascan family, the most widely distributed of the North American Indian linguistic groups. The Athapascans are classified by ethnologists into three divisions, Northern, Pacific, and Southern, and the Southern is subdivied into the Navajo of New Mexico, the “Apaches,” a group of tribes called by this name, and surrounding the Navajo, and the Texas Apaches, or Lipanes. The designation “Apache” probably came from ápachu, “enemy,” the Zuñi name for the Navajos, who were called by the early Spaniards “Apaches de Nabaju.” 13
Most of the information hitherto at hand concerning the Texas Apaches relates to comparatively recent times, and there has been a lack of definite knowledge of them during the early Spanish period. The period is dark enough even now, but many new facts of general importance have been gleaned during the course of the present study, and some of them may be summarized here, out of the chronological order of the narrative, by way of introduction. The details will be made to appear in the historical order in which they became known and differentiated.
The Spaniards of the latter eighteenth century, when information was relatively complete, distinguished between the “Apaches de Occidente,” or Western Apaches, and the “Apaches de Oriente,” or Eastern Apaches, the latter being the ones with which this paper deals. The principal tribes of the Eastern Apaches known at that time were the Lipan (Ypande), Natagés (sometimes called Apaches proper), and the Mescaleros. 14 In the period covered by this paper (1718-1750) the tribes chiefly known in Texas were the Lipan and the Natagés, especially the former. They went under various names, and various subdivisions were sometimes distinguished. But in the early part of the period the Texas documents make no distinction, as later was the case, between the different Apache bands, but all are included under the generic name of “Apaches.” The Lipan, when first known to the Texans, lived far to the northwest of San Antonio, on the upper reaches of the Colorado, Brazos, and Red rivers, but gradually they moved south before the advancing Comanches, until by 1732 they made their home in the country of the San Sabá, Chanas (Llano), and Pedernales. About 1750 some of them established themselves on the Medina, and others pushed on to the Rio Grande. The Natagés and the Mescaleros lived far to the southwestward, in the country of the Pecos and the Rio Grande. These Eastern Apaches were not numerous, but were led by petty chiefs, which made it difficult to deal with the tribes as wholes. And in proportion to their numerical strength, their capacity to make trouble was surprisingly great. During this period they apparently did not use firearms, but fought, on horseback, with bows, spears, and darts, and had armor for both man and horse.
1. Apache Relations in Texas Before 1718.—The Apaches were well known in New Mexico at a very early date. Before the establishment of Texas they pestered the frontiers of Nueva Viscaya and Coahuila, and no sooner had the Spaniards founded San Antonio than it experienced similar visitations. In his diary of 1691, Father Massanet made the following statement concerning the Apaches, which is a good summary of knowledge of them in Texas at this time. He says, “The Apaches form a chain running from east to west, and wage war with all; with the Salineros alone do they maintain peace. They have always had wars with the Spaniards of New Mexico, for, although truces have been made, they have endured little. In the end they conquer all the tribes; yet it is said that they are not brave because they fight with armoured horses. They have defensive and offensive weapons, and are very skillful and warlike Indians.” 15
Before the establishment of San Antonio the Spaniards of eastern Texas had come into contact with the Apaches through the wars which the latter waged with their inveterate foes, the “Texas.” The part of the Spaniards in these wars was, no doubt, one of the causes for the attacks which were subsequently made on San Antonio. All of the tribes east of the middle Colorado were allied against the Apaches, and many bloody encounters took place between the two groups. From the time of the first Spanish entry into their country, the “Texas” Indians enlisted the aid of the soldiers, just as a few years before they had enlisted a part of Joutel's men. 16 Hidalgo tells us that in August, 1692, the soldiers joined the Texas in a campaign against the Apaches, going west-ward until the land of the enemy was reached. While the invaders were sleeping peacefully one night the Apaches attacked them, and, says our informant, had it not been for the firearms of the Spaniards, not one of them would have returned home. 17 On another campaign of this early period the Texans, with the aid of the Spaniards, are said to have won a great victory over the Apaches, killing one hundred and thirty-six of their number. 18 Joseph de Urrutia, the romantic character who remained in Texas after the abandonment in 1693, says, with probable exaggeration, that he lived among the Texas tribes for seven years and organized them for campaigns against the Apaches, acting in the capacity of capitán grande, and often leading more than 10,000 warriors against the common foe. 19
Thus it seems that the Spaniards of Texas were first known to the Apaches in the light of foes, and that early relations between them were confined to hostile acts. 20
2. Raids About San Antonio and Flores's Campaign, (1718-1723).—Had the Spaniards refused to give aid to the Texas, they might have been spared, possibly, a great deal of trouble, but at the outset they had definitely put themselves on record as enemies of the Apaches, and the latter did not forget it. The Apache terror overshadows Spanish Texas from the founding of San Antonio.
In the instructions given to Governor Alarcon, in 1718, for the planting of this new outpost, he was cautioned to be on his guard against the Apaches, and was told to organize the neighboring tribes in a defensive alliance against them, as there was much danger of attack from this “barbarous enemy.” 21 These fears were quickly realized, for as soon as the Apaches learned of the establishment of Béxar they began to harass it. Before the Marqués de Aguayo had made his expedition into Texas in 1721-2, 22 they had already become so bold as to attack the supply trains from Coahuila to San Antonio, stealing mules and killing the drivers. 23 Aguayo fully realized the danger. In 1720 he had endeavored from Coahuila to secure peace with the Apaches, but they would make no concessions. Instead they brazenly declared their hostile intentions by hanging red cloth from arrows stuck in the ground near San Antonio. 24 While Aguayo was on his way from Monclova to Texas, in 1721, his men had a skirmish just before reaching San Antonio with some Indians whom they supposed to be Apaches. Two days before his arrival there a pack train had been attacked. In consequence, several detachments were sent out from San Antonio for the purpose of checking these hostilities. 25
Nevertheless, Aguayo's policy was one of conciliation. He wished to make friends of the Apaches, and as he journeyed from San Antonio to eastern Texas he erected several crosses, in order, as he said, “to exalt the cross in the midst of so much idolatry, and to leave signs of peace to the Apaches Indians, who consider them as such and know from them that Spaniards have been there.” 26 No Apaches were encountered by Aguayo himself, however, and in this he was disappointed, for his plan was to take some of them prisoners and bring about peace through their mediation. 27
When Aguayo reached Los Adaes he learned that Fray Joseph Pita, a lay brother of the College of the Santa Cruz de Querétaro, had been killed a short time previous while en route to East Texas. The friar had ventured forth to hunt buffalo without the protection of the soldiers, and Indians, said to be Apaches, killed him between the San Xavier and the Brazos rivers. His remains were found in 1723, as we shall see, and were taken to San Antonio by Captain Nicolás Flores. 28
After Aguayo's return to Coahuila in 1722, the Apaches continued to steal horses, and on one occasion five Indians managed to make off with fifty of them. Captain Flores, with ten men, gave chase to the thieves, recovered the horses, and took back to San Antonio the heads of four of the offenders, together with some spears and some skin armor used to protect the horses of the Indians. 29 Shortly after this, in April, 1722, Flores was given command of the presidio, 30 and with his office he inherited the Apache trouble.
After Flores succeeded to the command of the presidio such was his vigilance, he said, that no horses were stolen from Béxar until August 17, 1723. 31 Upon this date, however, a band of Apaches made a raid upon the stock of the presidio. In spite of the fact that the corral was locked and that ten soldiers guarded the gates, the Indians broke in and carried off eighty horses. Captain Flores was notified, and, although it was midnight, set out in pursuit. After a vain chase that lasted until noon of the following day, he decided to return to the presidio for reinforcements. Two days later he again set out with a force of thirty soldiers, including eight from Bahía, and thirty mission Indians, to follow the trail of the Apaches. He carried only two pack loads of flour, and relied for meat upon buffalo and deer. In five days he passed the Lomería, or range of hills, to the north, and on September 24, thirty-six days after leaving San Antonio, and after having traveled one hundred and thirty leagues, he came upon a ranchería of two hundred Apaches, constituting one of the five bands into which the enemy had divided, who sallied forth to meet him. A six hours' battle ensued, according to the report, in which the Spaniards were victorious, thirty-four Indians, including their chief, being killed, and twenty women and children taken captives. About one hundred and twenty horses and mules were recovered, together with a quantity of plunder, consisting of saddles, bridles, knives, spears, and other articles which had been stolen by the Indians. Of the Spaniards, three, including Captain Flores, were slightly wounded, and one Indian was hurt. The return to San Antonio was made in nineteen days. 32
The fact that they went northward five days before entering the Lomería, and that they returned by way of the San Xavier (San Gabriel) 33, where Father Pita's remains were found, would indicate a generally northward direction for the campaign. Since they were nineteen days returning and traveled one hundred and thirty leagues, the air-line distance from San Antonio could hardly have been less than two hundred miles. This would put the place where the battle occurred somewhere in the region of Brownwood, perhaps.
The foregoing account of Flores's campaign is based on the official report made by Flores to the Marqués de Aguayo, supplemented by the other accounts in so far as they do not conflict. Conflicting statements are not wanting, however. Indeed, in a later report by Flores himself we find slight discrepancies in the figures, as well as additional details. According to Fray Joseph González, missionary in Valero, who, be it noted, was not present at the battle, Flores attacked an innocent band of Apaches “behind their backs,” and killed and captured his victims while they were trying to escape. González's statement was corroborated by four soldiers of Béxar, who made a declaration containing some additional facts. 34
These differing and conflicting accounts of the expedition indicate in part the dissensions which were so prevalent at this time between the missionaries and the soldiers, with their respective sympathizers, and, as will be seen presently, Flores's campaign, together with the consequences resulting therefrom, served only to increase the discord.
3. Peace Negotiations.--One important result of the campaign was to open up the way for negotiations looking to a treaty of peace with the Apaches. It had been Aguayo's idea to treat with them through captives, and it is not unlikely that Flores was acting upon the advice of his patron. Although at this time the chief object of imprisoning the Apache women and children seems to have been to bring the Indians to terms of peace, yet we can see here early hints of that Spanish custom of enslaving the Apaches which became so prevalent in Texas some years later, for Flores was charged with wishing to retain the captives as servants rather than to use them as hostages. 35
Among the captives taken by Flores was a woman about forty years old, whom the captain questioned through an interpreter. He inquired the motive for the hostility of the Apaches towards the Spaniards at San Antonio and their reasons for stealing horses. She replied that it was because of the trade which the Apaches maintained with “other Spaniards” to the north, to whom they sold horses and slaves. 36
This statement was to the Spaniards a confirmation of their suspicions in regard to the French, for it was assumed that these “other Spaniards” could be none other than Frenchmen who were manipulating the Apaches for their own benefit. The French had been a source of anxiety to the Spanish ever since La Salle had established his ill-fated colony at the Bay of Espíritu Santo, and it was still feared that they might try some day to wrest from Spain her northern territory. This fear had a direct influence upon relations with the Apaches, as it had upon most of their Indian relations in Texas, during the eighteenth century, and in Flores's negotiations for peace we can see the germs of a policy of alliance with the Apaches which finally, after many ins and outs, resulted in the establishment of missions for them. The Spaniards wished, among other things, to use the Apaches as a bulwark against the French and their Indian allies (the Comanches in particular), and to prepare the way for the development of trade between New Mexico, Espíritu Santo, and eastern Texas, and so strengthen Spanish hold upon that vast territory. 37
Upon further examination, the captive squaw said that the Apache chiefs were anxious to be friends with the Spaniards. Hereupon Flores agreed to dispatch her as an ambassador to her people, and promised to release the prisoners if the chiefs would come and make peace. She consented to carry the proposal to the capitán grande (head chief) of her people, and promised to return in twenty days. A horse was given her, as well as many other gifts, and about October 7 she departed on her mission. 38
Within twenty-two days the squaw returned, accompanied by an Apache chief, his wife and three other Apaches. Flores went out to meet them, and the chief Indian gave him a bastón (cane), saying “Dios! Dios!” They were examined by Father González, given presents, and treated in the very best style. The chief reported that as soon as the squaw returned, telling of the friendship of the Spaniards and of their desire to be at peace with the Apaches, couriers were dispatched to the other chiefs to notify them, so that a council might be held to discuss matters. He himself was joined at first by another chief, but later it was decided that only one of them should go, and the other chief gave him a gold-tipped cane (the one he had brought) and told him to go and see if the Indian woman spoke the truth; if it was so, to return and notify the five chiefs so that all of them might go to make peace.
After remaining at the presidio three days, the Indians left on November 1, promising that without doubt the five chiefs would all come to make peace. 39 Nevertheless, although prospects seemed so flattering, it was to be a long time before they were realized.
Indeed, very sinister tales were told, to the effect that all of these negotiations were only a ruse on the part of the Apaches to regain their women and children. A Coahuila Indian named Gerónimo who had escaped from the Apaches to San Juan Bautista declared that the Apaches had been very much aroused by Flores's campaign and that they had assembled to march upon San Antonio, when the Indian woman arrived, telling them of what the Spaniards had promised, and that (with characteristic cunning) the Apaches had decided to postpone their plans in order to secure the release of their women and children who were at San Antonio. The capitán grande, Gerónimo's declaration continued, consoled as best he could the disappointed Indians, promising to attack San Antonio after they had secured their relatives. 40 This story was confirmed by a Spaniard named Juan Santiago de la Cruz, who likewise had been a prisoner among the Apaches. He said that the Apaches were always eager for war upon the Spaniards, and that when Flores had killed some of their number on his campaign a great many tribes gathered with the intention of attacking San Antonio. But just as they were about to start, the old Indian woman arrived with a message from Flores. Two priests were sent for from another ranchería, and they read the letter, informing the Indians that Flores offered peace. 41 The capitán grande now decided to send a chief, accompanied by a few men, with a bastón, to secure the release of the captives, but agreed that as soon as the latter had been given up, a great force should assault the presidio at San Antonio. With this deceitful intent, said the Spaniards, the Apaches were sent to promise peace. 42
The Apaches did not return to San Antonio until about two months had passed. In the latter part of December a band of about thirty arrived at the settlement, where they were welcomed by Father González. The Indians were allowed to enter the mission, and González proposed to give up to them the women and children who were being held as prisoners. Flores, however, would not hear to this, and refused to release the hostages until all the chiefs should agree to make peace. González argued that they would probably not care to come until they should be convinced of the good intentions of the Spaniards. But Flores was firm in his decision, and the discussion waxed furious. The Indians finally took fright thereat and departed, leaving a twelve-year-old girl as an additional hostage and promising that as soon as the cold weather should be over four of their chiefs would come and make peace, but asserting that the fifth one did not wish to be the friend of the Spaniards. 43
4. The Removal and Restoration of Captain Flores.—This occurrence had opened anew the quarrel between Flores and González, and the missionary began to do all in his power to secure the removal of the soldier.
In consequence of reports that Flores had allowed the presidio of San Antonio de Béxar to deteriorate, the viceroy in a letter of October 3, 1723, had warned him to be more diligent in the service of the king, and suggested that if his soldiers had been properly equipped and the presidio in good condition the Apaches would not have succeeded in stealing the eighty horses. Apparently this was a great surprise to Flores, for he claimed that he had been especially diligent in pursuing the raiding Indians, and recovering the only horses that had been stolen from the presidio during his term. 44
Evidently with the view of justifying himself, on January 9, 1724, Flores appealed to González to make a statement concerning the condition of the presidio and to certify as to his (Flores's) prompt action in recovering the stolen horses. 45 Flores was too late, however, for before the end of November, González, through the guardian of his college, had complained to the viceroy of Flores's conduct. 46 Now, upon Flores's appeal, González took advantage of a new opportunity to complain of the captain's impolitic conduct in regard to the Apaches. He stated in his declaration that the Apaches had been grievously offended by the unwarranted attack upon them, and that the peace which had been so near to consummation had been irretrievably spoiled. 47
Father Hidalgo, who was missionary at San Antonio de Valero at this time, and before whom González's declaration was made, supported his brother priest. To the latter's statement he volunteered to add his own opinion. The Apaches, he said, could have been converted long before if the presidios had been managed rightly. He thought that the poor pay of the soldiers was responsible for the class of men who usually enlisted, and that their bad habits caused the loss, not only of their own souls, but of those of the Indians as well. “Now, again,” he continued, “the captain of this presidio has disturbed the so greatly desired peace by not releasing the children of the Apaches.” 48
González's opposition to Flores culminated in an effort to have him removed from his command. On March 18, 1724, he wrote to the viceroy complaining that the bad condition of the presidio was the cause of the failure to reap great harvests of souls. Since the French were anxious to ally with the Apaches, this bad state of affairs, he said, might mean ruin for the Spaniards. He told of the attack upon the corral, the stealing of the horses, the pursuit by Flores, the defeat of the Indians, the taking of the captives, and Flores's subsequent refusal to release them to their people. Finally, the priest declared, in order to repair the damage which had been done, it would be necessary that Flores be removed from his office as captain, not only because of his unchristian conduct toward the Apaches, but also because of his scandalous actions and bad example in general. As a successor to Flores, González proposed Mateo Pérez, a private soldier of the presidio of the Rio Grande. 49
González also suggested a remedy for the unwise policy of Flores. It was to form a company of seventy men from the various presidios, led by Father González himself, and by going to the land of the Apaches, treating the Indians kindly, giving them back their wives and children, and bestowing upon them some presents, thus again secure peace. It was the policy of the olive branch and the sword. 50
Whether or not this letter of González was the cause of the removal of Flores is uncertain. At any rate, on April 6, 1724, Flores received an order from the viceroy commanding him to give up the command of the presidio to Mateo Pérez, just as González had suggested, and to retire one hundred leagues from the “province of Texas.” 51
Flores obeyed the order, and Pérez took charge in June. This did not mean, however, that the matter was settled. On the contrary, Flores began at once to exert himself to regain his command. He made a personal plea to the viceroy, giving his account of the raid and the fight with the Apaches, and furnishing testimonials from the Marqués de Aguayo and from other persons concerning his good conduct and ability. In his own defense, Flores said that he had recovered the only horses that had been stolen during his term of office, and that the presidio was in good condition, with the requisite number of competent soldiers, contrary to what González had charged. As to the latter's statement about the coming of the Apaches to seek peace, Flores said that the priest did not know what he was talking about; that the Apaches had never wished peace, but that a few of them had come to San Antonio in order to see if they could not cajole the Spaniards into giving up the captives. Flores said that he had recognized their duplicity, and had refused to treat with them unless all of their chiefs should come. These statements he substantiated by the declaration of the Spaniard, Juan Santiago de la Cruz, to the effect that the Apaches intended to raid and destroy San Antonio after they had recovered their kinspeople. Finally, Flores asked that, in recognition of his many services and on account of his family, he be restored to his command. 52
To prove his good record in the service of the king, Flores enclosed a number of testimonials. One of these was from no less a personage than Fray Antonio Margil de Jesús, guardian of the College of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Zacatecas. He stated that Flores had always gallantly and zealously served the king, and that he was worthy, not only to be restored to his command, but even to be promoted to the highest office in the province of Texas. 53
The Marqués de Aguayo, in his testimonial, praised Flores very highly, and, indeed, it is from him that we learn most of the facts concerning Flores's career, as given above. He also defended Flores against the attacks made upon him by Hidalgo, whose charges, he said, were mere repetitions of those made by González. 54 To offset Hidalgo's opinion, Aguayo maintained that Hidalgo was a man easily influenced, and that Father Sevillano, who also opposed Flores, was of somewhat the same nature. As to González himself, Aguayo believed that he had purposely misstated things to the discredit of Flores, and cited Flores's letters as proof. He said that Mateo Pérez had been recommended so that González could keep him under his control and so shape the affairs of San Antonio. 55 Furthermore, Aguayo added, González was known to be of a turbulent disposition, as was admitted by his own college, and one who was always causing trouble. 56 It is only fair to state that González and Aguayo had been personal enemies since 1722, when the former charged the latter with defrauding the government. This fact may have colored Aguayo's opinion of González. 57 Finally, Aguayo recommended that Flores be restored to the command of the presidio at San Antonio and that all back pay be given him. 58
In consequence of Aguayo's intervention, on May 31, 1725, the viceroy ordered that Flores should be restored to his command and that Pérez should return to his service as a private soldier in the presidio of Rio Grande. 59 Thus in spite of further efforts that González may have made, Flores won his fight, and for this time, at least, the seculars triumphed over the missionaries.
5. Further Raids and Spanish Conciliation, 1724-1725.—While this controversy had been raging between Flores and González, the Apaches had continued to inflict upon the province their thefts and murders. The assurance given by the Indians who had visited San Antonio in November, 1723, that four of their chiefs would come to make peace did not prove well founded, and after some seven months of quiet the Apaches renewed their raids. 60
At about midnight of March 9, 1724, Francisco Minchaca (sic), a soldier of the presidio of Rio Grande del Norte, arrived at San Antonio and reported that his companion, Antonio González, had been killed by Indians about fifteen leagues away. Flores set out at once with ten soldiers, and, reaching the scene of the attack, found the mutilated body of González. Though there were conflicting opinions as to the identity of the malefactors, there were strong indications that they were Apaches. 61 On March 14th or 15th, ten Apaches, bearing the Indian captive Gerónimo, stole some horses from the corral of the presidio of San Juan Bautista del Rio Grande. Gerónimo fled to the Spaniards, gave the alarm, and the horses were recovered.