So on December 14 General Cos and Colonel Ugartechea, with their 1105 soldiers including the 500 convicts, took the one four-pounder that was allowed them and marched south, for Laredo across the Rio Grande, there to send their reports to Santa Anna.

Now there was not a Mexican soldier left in Texas, and things looked pretty good. All the settler volunteers were anxious to go home, to spend Christmas with their families and friends, and to attend to their business. Santa Anna, the reports said, was still down in the interior of Mexico, at San Luis Potosi, a thousand miles away, preparing for a campaign in person; but he could not arrive for several weeks, at the least, and the news of how General Cos had been wiped out ought to make him yet more cautious. All the south border and the west border of Texas were held against him. Consequently, this was the time for taking a rest at home and for winter ploughing.

To a few of the citizen soldiers the proposed breaking up of the army did not seem wise. Dick Carroll opposed it; Captain Dickinson also was a little dubious—although he much wished to get back to his wife, and a baby that had arrived. Captain Travis, too, thought that the troops should remain under arms, and the enlistments should be pushed, to be ready to oppose the next Mexican force.

But on December 15, the day after Cos marched out. General Burleson himself left for his home in East Texas, and took with him a crowd of other East Texans.

“I’m going,” proclaimed Leo, to his chums. “Aren’t you?”

“Sure, I’m going,” answered Sion. “Got to put in some corn, and help celebrate Christmas.”

“Same here,” announced Leo.

“Guess I will, too. Most the Gonzales men are,” said Ernest. “But if Santa Anna doesn’t wait for us, what’ll we do then? We’ll have to hustle.”

“Shucks!” scoffed Leo. “Santa Anna’ll think twice, now, when he hears how just a few of us licked Cos’s regulars out of Bejar. I reckon after I get home I’ll join that Matamoros expedition. When we’re invading Mexico Santa Anna’ll have all he can do there, without trying to come in here again.”

“Most those United States volunteers are going to stay on the border, anyway,” reasoned Sion. “That’ll give us other fellows a chance to catch up at home.”

“Besides, Sam Houston’s raising a regular army. That’s why he was elected commander-in-chief,” added Jim. “There’ll be five thousand Texan regulars ready for Santa Anna. Somebody’s got to plant corn to feed ’em.”

Immediately after General Burleson left, the army broke up. By companies and by squads the settlers rode and marched for their homes. The New Orleans Grays and the Mississippians and all the other volunteers from the United States, about 400, remained at Bejar; and so did sixty Texans. Acting Adjutant-General Johnson was in command; Colonel Neill was his second.

The home-going of the rest was a free and easy trip. The four boys cantered together (for Sion had picked up a horse, at last); and Ernest, his arm in a sling, felt like a veteran returning from the wars. He not only had fought, but had bled for Texas and liberty.

At Gonzales Ernest stopped; he was home. But the three others would not stop a minute; that is, no longer than to eat, and freshen their horses. So, after dinner, they all shook hands with him.

“If you get down my way, light and come in,” bade Leo, as he swung on his horse. He had the furthest to go. “I reckon we’ll meet up in the spring, anyhow, if those Mexicans get runctious.”

“Oh, well see you before that,” asserted Jim and Sion, in turn, to Ernest. “You’ll be over to the river [by which they meant the Colorado] or we’ll be in here.”

“Next time we’ll all be fighting under Sam Houston, maybe,” hazarded Ernest.

“I certainly’d admire to pitch in and help him lick Santa Anna,” admitted Leo—who of late had appeared to think considerable of the general. “There’d be tall doings. When Houston takes the warpath you’ll know where to find me. So long.”

“Same here,” added Jim and Sion. “So long, amigo [friend]. Good luck. See you later.”

“So long, boys,” replied Ernest. “See you later, sure.” And away they galloped, with a whoop of joy. They waved their hats at him, from the trail, and presently they were out of sight. What fine fellows they were! For an instant there rose a little lump in his throat, and he felt lonesome.

However, it was no time to be lonesome. A merry Christmas, of double celebration, was near; crops were to be put in; and here at Gonzales, after the excitement of the campaign, much news was to be gathered, of the progress in forming the state government and the army. As for the arm, it soon healed, leaving a splendid scar for record.

General Houston himself had spread the word for all the returned volunteers to plough their fields and plant their corn, so that there might be an abundant crop for the next year. Texas was liable to need every ounce of food; and to have this food in readiness was a part of the coming campaign. After Christmas Dick Carroll and Ernest cleared and ploughed forty acres, and so did most of the other Gonzales people; “forty acres in corn” was the new war cry.

There arrived in Gonzales a proclamation signed by Sam Houston, major-general of the army of Texas. It was issued, date of December 12, from his headquarters at Washington on the Brazos, fifty miles above San Felipe, and called for the immediate formation of a regular army of 1200 men, and for a larger volunteer army.

It promised the rights of citizens to all persons, from the United States and from Mexico, who would “unite with the people in defending the republican principles of the Constitution of 1824”; and it concluded:

“Sounds just like Houston,” remarked Dick Carroll. “Now if anybody in Texas thinks we’re through with Santa Anna, let him read this hyar proclamation. He says in it that ’cording to dispatches that have been captured, Santa Anna’s assembling ten thousand troops ag’in us. March first? We’re likely to be waked up before March first. And as for that Matamoros expedition, I don’t believe it will work. You can’t depend on the Mexican people helping any invasion. Look what happened down at Tampico.”

For when, this December, one General Jose Antonio Mexia, a Mexican officer opposed to Santa Anna’s rule, had disembarked a company from New Orleans at Tampico, on the Gulf Coast of Mexico, the citizens, instead of helping him, had cried “Hurrah for Santa Anna! Death to the strangers!” and twenty-eight of the party had been imprisoned and shot.

Ernest was very ready to enlist in the army called for by General Houston. Of course, he was only a boy; but he had been a soldier volunteer, and now if they thought he was too young to carry a gun in the regular army, he could at least be a drummer-boy—or something. However, the Gonzales people generally appeared not at all concerned. The men were busy and were enjoying their homes; they had threshed the Mexicans several times and had driven them all out of the country, and upheld the constitution of 1824, and this was enough for the present. So let those fellows who liked army discipline and who were not needed at home, go ahead and enlist; and let the other fellows with crops and families depending on them take things easy until the real call came. In fact, everybody expected somebody else to do the joining.

Nevertheless, at his headquarters in Washington on the Brazos, General Houston was doing the best that he could, to hurry matters along. James W. Fannin, the Georgian, had been appointed by the General Council colonel of the regular artillery. He also was appointed by General Houston inspector-general of the army. Colonel James Neill, and David Macomb, who had been the assistant adjutant-general, were the lieutenant colonels. Captain William Travis was appointed a major. Colonel Philip Sublett, who had commanded one of the divisions at the old mill camp before Bejar, was appointed the colonel of the regular infantry.

Captain Travis preferred not to serve in the artillery, and was made the lieutenant colonel of the cavalry, and Colonel Frank W. Johnson, who had commanded the columns in Bejar after the death of Ben Milam, was put in his place in the artillery. Colonel Sublett resigned, and was succeeded by General Edward Burleson, whom everybody knew.

The regular army was to consist of 1120 men, divided into a regiment of infantry and a regiment of artillery: composed part of actual regulars enlisted for two years, and part of “permanent volunteers” enlisted to serve until the end of the war. All were to be under the regulations and pay adopted by the army of the United States.

There was to be a corps of 168 Rangers, attached to the regular army, but to enlist for one year and to serve only when called upon; a kind of scouts. They were to receive pay, when on duty, of $1.25 a day; to furnish their own horses and arms and supplies, and to be “always ready armed and supplied with one hundred rounds of powder and ball.” Three-legged Williamson was elected major, commanding. This Ranger service looked rather attractive to Ernest.

But there also was the volunteer cavalry, under the gallant Captain, now Lieutenant-Colonel, Travis. Whoever followed William Barret Travis would certainly have excitement. The cavalry were to number 384 men, were to be armed with broad-swords and pistols, and double-barrelled shot-guns and smooth-bore yagers, half and half; and were to be “subject to regular discipline and the rules and articles of war.” For, said Lieutenant-Colonel Travis, “a mob can do wonders in a sudden burst of patriotism or passion, but cannot be depended on as soldiers for a campaign.” The pay was to be the United States cavalry pay, and there was to be a uniform of cadet-gray blouses and trousers, with yellow bullet buttons; fur caps, high black collars, and cowhide boots! This cavalry seemed the best of all.

And there was a corps of 5000 “auxiliary volunteers,” to enlist for three months or more, and be under the army regulations. An “Army of Reserve for the Protection of the Liberties of Texas” also was being talked of, to be recruited in the United States by the patriotic Judge T. J. Chambers, of Texas. Governor Smith advised a corps of engineers. Everybody between the ages of sixteen and fifty was invited to help form companies of home militia.

Colonel Fannin was stationed at Velasco, on the Gulf in Leo’s country, to open a recruiting station and to receive volunteers from the United States. Lieutenant-Colonel Travis was stationed on recruiting service at San Felipe. Colonel Jim Bowie was at Goliad. But out of all these plans very little resulted. General Houston’s proclamation even seemed to have scarcely any effect. The volunteers from the United States—from Kentucky, Alabama, Georgia and Tennessee—continued to arrive; but they said that they had not come to serve in any regular army. They had come to fight and to be subject to their own officers, and the majority opposed enlisting in the Texas army for even three months. By the middle of January, 1836, the regular army numbered scarcely fifty men; and taking volunteers and all, the great majority were from the United States.

Truly, General Houston was having a discouraging time with these independent Texas settlers.

To make matters worse, Colonel Fannin, at Velasco, and Dr. Grant, at Bejar, were determined upon the invasion of Mexico by way of Matamoros. General Houston did not favor this; there were not troops enough, and the Mexican people could not be relied upon, and Texas would do better to protect itself, rather than send all its soldiers into the enemy’s country. But the General Council supported the scheme, the volunteers were eager to be doing something, Dr. Grant promised them much booty, among the Mexican towns and ranches, and Colonel Fannin was authorized by the council to collect men, raise funds, elect officers, and march on Matamoros.

Dr. Grant took all the United States volunteers, including the New Orleans Grays, from Bejar, and most of the supplies, and set out to join Colonel Fannin. This left only sixty men in Bejar—and General Santa Anna, with thousands of Mexican cavalry and artillerymen, was already at Saltillo, and General Cos was awaiting him at the Rio Grande River itself!

General Houston had ordered Colonel Bowie, at Goliad, to lead the expedition against Matamoros, if he thought the scheme was likely to succeed; he felt that he could depend upon Jim Bowie, who knew that country. But the council, by appointing Colonel Fannin, had overruled these orders. Colonel Fannin claimed that the council and not the general of the army was his commander now. So he went ahead with his preparations, and all the impatient volunteers from the United States gathered to his summons. Colonel Frank Johnson, too, was directed by the council to join the expedition and help form it. From Bejar he proceeded through Gonzales to San Felipe; and now Lieutenant-Colonel Neill was left on the frontier with only sixty men and no supplies.

Thus defied by the council and by his own inspector-general and the commander of the artillery, General Houston was in a sad fix. This would never do, in any army. Lieutenant-Colonel Neill wrote a letter protesting alarmedly at the condition in Bejar. And referring the letter to Governor Smith, General Houston likewise protested.

He said that the army was in confusion; the soldiers who had been wounded in the battles were being neglected, while without the authority of the commanding officer supplies were being diverted from them and sent elsewhere. As for himself, he was ready to obey orders, if only Texas might be saved.

Governor Smith was angry, too. He ordered General Houston to take command, to locate his headquarters at Bejar or some other post on the western frontier, and to begin a campaign. That would occupy the troops and defend Texas. He wrote a letter to the council also, hotly reproving them for interfering with the commander-in-chief, and for encouraging officers to disobey his instructions.

When General Houston arrived at Goliad, he found that almost the whole of the army, being mainly the volunteers from the United States, were assembled down here on the Gulf Coast, ready for the Matamoros march. Colonel Fannin had been elected their colonel, and Major William Ward, of the Georgia volunteers, their lieutenant colonel. Lieutenant-Colonel Frank Johnson claimed that by the appointment of the council he was the rightful commander. Dr. Grant, another commander, had passed on, after stripping the Goliad post of its horses. But General Houston, in a speech at Goliad and at Refugio nearby, assured the volunteers that by the direction of the governor he himself was here to be the leader in whatever was done—although he was sure that any invasion of Mexico, now, would result in only defeat and death to all concerned.

Listening to the advice of Sam Houston, many of the volunteers decided not to go to Matamoros unless he favored it. Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson’s force for the march overland dropped to only sixty, and he did not go. Colonel Fannin was not able to sail from Velasco, and instead garrisoned Goliad. Dr. Grant remained out on the prairies to the westward, collecting more horses. The soldiers were very discontented, being without money and supplies.

After having done the best that he could, General Houston learned that the council had suspended Governor Smith, on account of the letter that he had written to them, and had appointed Lieutenant-Governor Robinson to serve in his place until the next convention met, on March 1. So back north to Washington on the Brazos hastened Sam Houston, now well discouraged. The army were presumed to make their winter quarters at Refugio, near Goliad in the south.

In the United States Stephen Austin, Dr. Branch T. Archer, and Mr. William H. Wharton, the Texas commissioners appointed by the convention of last November, were busily obtaining loans of money for the Texas government, with which supplies were being bought. This was one bright spot.

Such was the news as received in Gonzales, by the columns of the San Felipe weekly Telegraph, and by letters and word of mouth. Indeed, what with the disputes among the army officers, the quarrel between the governor and the council, and the opposition to General Houston himself, as commander-in-chief, things, to Ernest (trying his best to understand), looked black for Texas. He was glad that the Matamoros expedition was given up, for Leo probably would have joined and have been killed. But here was Texas at helpless sixes and sevens—and General Santa Anna, according to reports, was at Saltillo, preparing to march with a great army against the “rebels.”

Bejar surely would be among the first places attacked. Lieutenant-Colonel Neill was there, with scarcely 100 men to man it and the Alamo and to support the twenty-four cannon. He had sent for help. Near the close of the third week of January, this 1836, had ridden into Gonzales, from Goliad sixty miles south, Colonel James Bowie, and Colonel Bonham, the South Carolinan, with a handful of recruits.

“Where you going, Jim?”

“To Bexar. Neill’s asked again for help. He tells headquarters that a thousand Mexicans are coming to attack him. The general’s sent us with orders for him to blow up the place and to pull out with all his artillery. We can’t raise troops enough to defend it. Captain Dimitt has orders to follow us from Goliad with one hundred men if he can get them, but I don’t believe he can. It’s a shame, gentlemen; a shame on Texas.”

And away rode the courtly James Bowie and the gallant James Bonham. Ernest and Gonzales never saw them again.

By courier through Gonzales, Lieutenant-Colonel Neill replied to General Houston that as he had no oxen or mules with which to drag his cannon, he could not obey the orders, and would hold his post, in hopes of reinforcements.

“He’ll stay; so will Bowie and Bonham!” groaned Dick Carroll, who was ill in bed, to Ernest. “And they’ll fight to the death. They’ll never surrender. After winning Bejar, we’ll lose it. If I was only on my feet——! Meanwhile, ’stead of sending reinforcements, Texas is fighting amongst itself, and at the same time depending on Sam Houston. But what can Houston do—a general without an army to obey him, or a government to help him. Travis and Bowie and Bonham and a few others are about all the friends he seems to have, aside from the governor, who’s a governor no longer.”

Ten days passed, marked by more rumors, and by another courier bearing through Gonzales an appeal from Lieutenant-Colonel Neill to the government for help. Then, at the last of January, appeared in Gonzales William Barret Travis, for Bejar with thirty horsemen.

“Who’s for Bexar?” he challenged, hotly. “What’s the matter with you Texans? Are you Gonzales people just as cold-blooded as the rest of the state?”

“Where’s your regular army, colonel?” retorted somebody.

Lieutenant-Colonel Travis threw up his hand with a gesture of despair.

“The regular army!” he cried. “I’ve been on recruiting service for weeks. So has Fannin; so has Rusk. The whole regular army doesn’t number a hundred men. Since I received orders to march to the relief of Bexar I’ve worked day and night to get regulars, volunteers, anybody; and at San Felipe and at Burnam’s on the Colorado I’ve raised only thirty men—twenty-six of ’em regulars, and four of ’em volunteers. I had more, but they deserted, with their horses and outfit. Boys, I’m discouraged. The country seems exhausted, or else won’t fight. We’ve a few patriots, but they’re about worn out. They can’t do everything. I haven’t slept, and I’ve pledged my own money. The governor’s been deposed, and nobody will follow Sam Houston—the best man who’s yet thrown in with Texas. Looks to me as if we were counting on the United States to fight our battles for us. But I’m going to Bexar if I have to go alone. It’s the key to Texas, and I, personally, shall never surrender it.”

He took Captain Dickinson and Captain Albert Martin and two or three other Gonzales men with him among his volunteers, and rode on. He never came back; and came not back Captain Dickinson. Ernest would gladly have gone with his captain, but he could not leave Dick.

January merged into February. General Houston was reported to have been forced out of his commandership, and to have gone on a mission to make a treaty with the Cherokee Indians in Texas. The regular army was a failure; and the majority of the volunteers, about 400 (most of them from the United States) were with Colonel Fannin at Goliad. Lieutenant-Colonel Travis, Colonel Bowie, Colonel Bonham, and Captain Dickinson (who had been reappointed as lieutenant in the regular service) were still at Bejar. Captain Dickinson had sent for his wife and baby to join him and visit relatives there. Lieutenant-Colonel Neill passed through Gonzales on his way home, sick. He had left Travis in command of about 150 men—far, far too few.

For the Mexican soldiery were marching north. Reports from Lieutenant-Colonel Travis said that he was in command of the regulars and cavalry, and Colonel Bowie of the volunteers. But General Sesma, of the Mexican army, he reported, certainly had arrived at the Rio Grande River and joined General Cos, with 2000 men.

Colonel Bowie had written, too; and Lieutenant-Colonel Neill had brought word in person. What could 150, or 200 men, do against 2000? But scarcely had the appeals from Bejar been published in the San Felipe Telegraph, when on the night of February 26 a dispatch rider again galloped, horse afoam, into Gonzales. He bore a message from Bejar to the alcalde or anybody else in authority.