Chapter 4
The First Shots
It was our Lexington, though a bloodless one…But the fight was on. Not a man among us thought of receding from the position on which this bold act had placed us.
-Noah Smithwick
Gonzales-Early October, 1835
Hank and Hawk arrived in Gonzales on the first of October, accompanied by the Hendersons. As the whole town was clearly in an uproar, Hawk immediately determined to do some reconnoitering.
Hank found Gonzales to be quite interesting. Not only was it larger than Bastrop, it somehow felt like he had crossed over from Texas to Mexico. For one thing, plenty of buildings were made from stone, and a few were even made of adobe. But it also seemed that a lot more folks were Tejanos than had been the case further east and north. Hank was indeed surprised that things could change so quickly just by heading south for a couple of days.
Taking the opportunity afforded by Hawk’s absence, Hank sat back and observed the hustle and bustle. Eventually, Hawk came out of the Sheriff’s office and strode in his direction, and it was obvious from his demeanor that he had significant news to report.
As he approached, Hank inquired vacuously, “Hawk, ever been anywhere like this before?”
“Depends,” Hawk replied breathlessly, and it was clear he was not in the mood for conversation. “Got some news, Hank. Seems we got here just in the nick of time. I haven’t got it all quite clear yet since folks all seem to be in a rush, but here is what I know. Seems the Mexican Army has demanded that the folks here in Gonzales give back a cannon they loaned to them four years ago. The town folk were apparently given the cannon to defend themselves against the Indians. Most folks think that being ordered to give it back violates the Constitution of 1824, so they’re refusing to comply with the request. Seems the local settlers are pouring into town for the purpose of defending the cannon.”
Blanching at this revelation, Hank sputtered, “You mean there’s a fight comin’?”
“Well, it does seem so,” Hank opined, adding, “And here’s the damndest thing about it. I observed that cannon down the street there, and it isn’t much bigger than a cigar. Virtually useless in a fight, if you ask me. But these folks are all riled up by now, and my guess is it really isn’t about the cannon at all. It’s just an excuse, a rallying point for what’s coming, I expect.”
Hank had come south to be in the war, but now that he was confronted with the reality of it he wasn’t so sure he’d done right. Scratching his beard aimlessly, he blurted, “Well, I swear. Maybe we could just keep on headin’ south, Hawk.”
“No sir, this is the place, of that I’m quite certain. I believe that luck is with us. We’ve come looking for the war, and darned if we didn’t find it straightaway. It might start out with something small, like what happened at Lexington in the American Revolution, but it’ll sure as shooting blow up faster than you can load a musket blindfolded.”
“So you think it’ll start small?” Hank asked hopefully.
“Didn’t say that, Hank, but if I was a bettin’ man, I’d say that’s likely. Word has it the Mexican Army has only mustered about a hundred soldiers across the river. So I expect it’ll be a posturing affair, like as not.”
“What’s a posturing affair? Sounds like forbidden sex in the vertical to me.”
“Well, you would think that, Hank MacElrae. You probably think sex should be accomplished strictly horizontal, and in the dark to boot.”
Wincing at Hawk’s obvious condescension, Hank said defensively, “Didn’t mean to divert to another subject. I was just asking what you meant by posturing affair. And besides, I done other ways, and on occasion even in daylight.”
“Well, bully for you, Mr. Handsome Hank MacElrae!” Hawk propounded bombastically, and so saying, he turned his back on Hank and gazed down the street for a moment. Turning back, he mumbled to himself, “Where was I? Oh, right, posturing affair. That means a situation where two opponents get all fluffed up and start preening their feathers like two peacocks, acting as if they’re about to have a big fight, more often than not over a woman, and a whole bunch of onlookers become excited, hoping for a good show, and then the whole thing peters out when neither party has the stomach to throw the first punch. That, my friend, is a posturing affair.”
“Oh, right, I’ve seen that with two bulls before,” Hank put in, “Come to think of it, I’ve seen it with all sorts of animals, male ones of course. Can’t say I’ve ever seen it with humans, though.”
“Well, here’s the thing, Hank, ol’ buddy - humans are animals, too.”
Looking injured at such a statement, Hank exclaimed, “That’s blasphemy!”
“Call it what you want, lots of times in war, both sides act like they’re spoiling for a fight, when all they’re really doing is checking to see if the other party is serious. So it’s not uncommon for one or both sides to back down, at least in the early stages.”
“Wow! I wasn’t thinkin’ of warfare as bein’ fun, but this sounds like it could be. Sorta like a game of checkers.”
“Right,” Hawk responded diffidently, “Leave it to you to equate checkers to warfare and killin’.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Never mind, Hank. Now here’s what we have to do. First off, we must go down to the sheriff’s office and get you signed up in the Volunteer Army of Texas.”
“Why me? Ain’t you going to join up, too?”
“I already joined up. Besides, I’m a Texas Ranger. I’m already sworn to defend Texas.”
“Oh, that’s where you were when you done came out of the sheriff’s office. I got it. What do we have to do after that?”
“That’s the beauty of joining the military - once you’re signed on, you don’t have to do any thinking whatsoever. Somebody will tell you what to do with every waking hour of your life. Wake up, do this, do that. Why, pretty soon you’ll need permission to fart!”
“I thought we were fightin’ in this war so we could be free men. That don’t sound like freedom at all to me.”
Hawk stared at him and stated, “All freedom is both temporary and conditional, my man,” and he said this somewhat sarcastically.
As Hank could tell it was meant to close the subject, he said no more. Instead, the pair headed off to the sheriff’s office to sign Hank up for The Volunteer Army of Texas.
Goliad, Texas-Early October
Francisco was only a private in the Mexican Army. As such, he was given the least military of assignments. Each day he carried water, helped with feeding the other soldiers, and cleaned the officers’ barracks. Under the circumstances, he didn’t feel much like a soldier, and that was to his preference. Word had it that the Texians were coming, and he wished to avoid the fighting. As if to ward off such a possibility, he kissed his medal of San Francisco.
Goliad wasn’t physically that different from his home town. But there was something about it that he didn’t like. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was dirty and dusty and hot, just like home, and there weren’t many trees to provide shade from the sun. But what he seemed to dislike about it was that it was so far from anywhere. It seemed to him that it was on the edge of civilization. After all, the missions had been established that way, and they all seemed to be a long way from Mexico City. Mexico was a civilized country, but this didn’t seem like part of Mexico to him. It was just too far away from civilization.
Realizing this, he wondered to himself why El Presidente had decided to send an army so far from anywhere. He had asked his fellow foot soldiers, but it seemed that they were all wondering the same thing. He supposed to himself that it was not for him to question such important matters.
Gonzales-October 1
Hank and Hawk formed up after dark, along with about a dozen others, and they marched out to meet the enemy on the Guadalupe River. The other members of the volunteer army were already out there, camped somewhere a
long the river.
Hank didn’t like having to play war in the middle of the night, and he said so to Hawk.
“Listen here, Hank, didn’t I tell you that you’d be told what to do every waking hour?”
“Yes, sir, you did, but I didn’t think that included sleepin’ hours, too.”
“Let’s not split hairs, son. You are awake now, and we are in the army. So shut up and keep walking.”
“Any idea who’s in charge of this here army, Hawk?”
“Well, I hear tell the council is in San Felipe deliberating on that question at this very moment. In the meantime, the men elected John Henry Moore to lead us here in Gonzales. He has some able leaders, too, men like Joseph Wallace and Edward Burleson, and a man named James Neill who fought in the War of 1812.”
“Did you say elected?” Hank inquired dubiously.
“Elected what?” Hawk responded in confusion.
“I thought I heard you say the leader was elected by the men, Hawk.”
“That I did.”
Perplexed by this, Hank suggested, “That seems strange if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you, but seein’ as how you think it’s strange, perhaps you’d be willin’ to elaborate.”
“Well, sir,” Hank volunteered, “I read a bit about that fellow Napoleon. I don’t think he was elected, and you’d know better than me about this, but Alexander the Great wasn’t elected neither, was he? Nor was Julius Caesar, I’m thinkin’.”
“You are correct on all points,” Hawk concurred, “And what, pray tell, is your point?”
“Well, suppose we get out on the battlefield and we decide we don’t like the way the battle is bein’ directed by this here fellow Moore. Is he a Colonel?” but, not waiting for a reply, he plunged onward, “Why, we just turn to each other on the battlefield and all agree on the spot to hold a new election, thus appointing a new commander better equipped to handle the current circumstances.”
Attempting to maintain a serious demeanor in the face of this rather ludicrous assertion, Hawk responded, “In theory you are correct, my man. But holding an election in the middle of a battle is technically implausible, I should think.”
“Haw, haw,” Hank snorted derisively, “I finally got your goat, Mr. High-and-Mighty Hawk Banks. I was funnin’ you, for sure!”
At this Hawk smiled and confided, “And so you did. Touché, as they say in France. But you do in retrospect have a point, sir.”
Intent on hiding the fact that he hadn’t a clue what it was, Hank asserted matter-of-factly, “Well, of course I do.”
Hawk observed, “An army has to have strong leadership. Can’t be holding elections all the time. The people at the top need to have the power to make unpopular but nonetheless wise decisions and stick to them.”
“Why?” Hank asked.
“Because they have access to more information than we do. And one would hope that they are also men of superior vision, such as were Alexander the Great and Caesar.”
Exaggerating considerably, Hank asserted, “Yeah, that’s what I meant to say.”
The small group of new recruits eventually arrived at their destination and, true to their expectations, the volunteer army was sizable. They had little time to rest before the whole bunch of them set off marching again.
Hank had no idea where they were going. There was plenty of jabbering going on among the men, and Hank got more opinions than he could absorb simply by listening. As near as he could tell, they were searching for the Mexican Army. Apparently they’d had contact with them over the last couple of days, but both sides were moving around a bit, and now this damned fog had rolled in and nobody knew where the heck the enemy was located at the moment. So they wandered around for a while in the dark, Hank beginning to think it was all pretty darn stupid.
Eventually dawn came and, the fog having grown so thick Hank could hardly see his own hands, he figured the whole thing would have to be called off. But somebody must have known what they were doing, because pretty soon someone yelled out, and suddenly everyone was crouching and moving forward, searching around for signs of the enemy. Suddenly a solitary gun went off, at which more than a hundred men flinched.
Hank had never been in a war before, but if that was the first shot of this war, Hank figured it to be entirely forgettable. All he could think to himself was, “This is just plain stupid,” but he kept it to himself for fear it might be the wrong thing to say aloud.
Pretty soon the army got down on a ridge and started firing their weapons across the Guadalupe River. The cannon went off once and, as there was still way too much fog, Hank hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on. And then the order came down the line to cease firing. Heck, Hank hadn’t ever commenced firing!
They all sat down after a few minutes and, waiting around for what seemed like two hours, they eventually marched back into town. By then the fog had lifted, and Hank could see the whole volunteer army strung out down the road. Noticing the leaders up front, he figured the guy in front must be that fella Moore.
Finally, they all got back to town. There was lots of back slapping, and liquor seemed to materialize from nowhere as literally every man in the volunteer army began the party, realization sinking in that they had not only survived, they had won. Everybody was whooping and talking, and acting like they were on a Sunday picnic. Hank was totally baffled by the entire proceeding.
Eventually, Hank could contain himself no longer. He sidled up to Hawk, feeling that he at least was one person that Hank could trust not to blab it to the world if he asked a stupid question. Throwing caution to the wind, he inquired, “Would somebody please tell me what just happened, Mr. Hawk Banks?”
By then well into his third drink of whiskey, Hawk nevertheless blurted, “War, my man. We just witnessed the first shots fired in a revolution! I thought I’d never live to see such a thing. But here we are, we have just witnessed one of the rarest events a man can partake of.”
“Well, you might’ve seen it, but I’m damned if I saw anything of significance,” Hank allowed.
“Matter of perspective, Hank. Each man sees the battle with his own personal viewpoint.”
“Is that so,” Hank said doubtfully, “And exactly what did you see?”
“Same as you, not a damn thing,” Hawk responded.
Hank contemplated a moment. It being clear that Hawk needed one more drink before his tongue was properly loosened, Hank decided he needed one, too. Accordingly, he volunteered sarcastically, “Oh, that’s a relief. I thought my vision was deterioratin’ from bad to near blindness. Seems like everybody else in this here army thinks they saw a miracle of sorts.”
“Well, and perhaps they did,” Hawk opined and, repeating himself, he added, “Perhaps they did. Only time will tell, Hank, my man. Meantime, we got some serious celebratin’ to do here,” and at this, Hawk grabbed a bottle from a man nearby and poured a drink into his canteen.
“Does that mean we won?” Hank queried vacuously, and at this he held out his canteen, but the man was clearly in no mood to extend the same courtesy to Hank that he had extended to Hawk.
Seeing Hank’s plight, Hawk grabbed the bottle again and, pouring a drink for him, he exclaimed, “Why hell, yes, man!”
Deciding against asking the obvious question as to why Hawk had so much pull where liquor was concerned, Hank replied instead, “Thanks. This may sound stupid, but how does one know when they’ve won?”
Hawk peered lugubriously at Hank and blubbered, “Well, for one thing, you can look down and see that you’re not shot nor wounded in any way, and that nobody else around you is either. For another thing, the Mexican Army has high-tailed it back to San Antonio. And when you put that together with the fact that everyone in the army is rejoicin’, that is indeed a sure sign of victory.”
“What if the other side is doing the same thing at this very moment?”
“They’re not. Trust me, they’re not,
” Hawk replied succinctly.
“How do you know that?”
“Because we ran them off, that’s why. And more importantly, we still got the dang cannon!”
“Oh!” Hank responded, affirmation finally beginning to sink in.
“Did you see that crazy flag they were carrying?” Hawk blabbered, “I liked to died when I saw it. Took everything I had to keep from busting out laughing in the middle of the battlefield.”
“No, didn’t see it,” Hank mumbled vacantly, “What’d it look like?”
“Simple, quite simple. It had a cannon on it, and four words - Come and Take It! Har har! I love it!” And Hawk punctuated this last comment by slapping Hank soundly on the back.
And that was it - that was how the revolution began. For Hank it was anticlimactic. He’d never been in a war before, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t over by a long shot. To his thinking, Hawk had been right on the mark - it was nothing more than a posturing affair.