Gone to Texas (22 page)

‘‘I have nothing else worth your attention. Please inform the widow Long that it is impossible for this government to allow her any pension, for her husband was not known as a general here, nor had he any commission from this government.”

Ellis finally left Mexico City on July 21, heading up the Camino Real to Saltillo, itching to have his
empresario
contract in hand. He arrived in September, and met both the Baron of Bastrop, who represented Texas in the state legislature, and John B. Austin, the
empresario's
brother. They spoke of the grant Ellis had applied for, which was in the twenty-league border reserve between the Sabine and Nacogdoches, where it would be easy to attract families who came to Texas on their own. He should have an easy time fulfilling his contract there, they said, without the expense of advertising in newspapers. Aware that Ellis had served under Morelos, they were certain the contract was as good as his. Elated by their confidence, Ellis failed to notice the governor's excessive politeness while being quite vague, almost evasive, about when the contract might be confirmed. Instead of becoming suspicious, Ellis felt it was safe to go on to Texas without waiting for the governor to deliver the grant.

What Ellis didn't know was that listing Magdalena as his wife, rather than clearing the way for his contract, had raised serious obstacles. One of the officials in Saltillo who saw his application had been in Nacogdoches, and he felt sure that Ellis had a family there. About the time Ellis set out from Mexico City, the governor had instructed the political chief in San Antonio to investigate Ellis' marital status. Political Chief Saucedo then requested Austin to conduct an inquiry and to report the result.

In early August, while Ellis rode blissfully up the Camino Real, a man named Martin Allen testified in San Felipe. He'd known Ellis in Arkansas Territory and in the Nacogdoches district, he said. Ellis had a wife when he first saw him in Arkansas; he thought they had been married in Tennessee. The universal belief, he said, was that they were legally married. Ellis' father-in-law, Isaac Midkiff, was well known and had the character of a respectable and honorable man. Allen doubted that he would have permitted Bean to live with his daughter unless they were legally married. “This deponent thinks Bean to be an honest man,” Allen concluded. “He is fond of boasting and telling large stories about his exploits in the Mexican revolution, and said he was a colonel in the army.”

Candace meanwhile had been called before the
alcalde
of the Neches district. She feared that Ellis must be dead, and in that case, she wouldn't inherit his property if she admitted being his common law wife. “I was married to Ellis P. Bean in White County, State of Tennessee,” she declared, “and I have two children by the aforesaid Bean. Their names are Isaac T. Bean, born in Arkansas Territory on March 5,1821, and Louiza Jane, born on August 15,1823, in the Province of Texas.”

Ellis Bean whistled happily as he rode into San Antonio early in December. At forty-three he felt satisfied with the world and with his place in it, for he was not only a colonel in the Mexican army, but Indian agent for Texas. In Saltillo his application for an
empresario
contract seemed certain to be approved; his friends from revolutionary days were in power in Mexico City, and he swelled with pride at the thought of becoming another Stephen F. Austin. He wouldn't have felt so contented if he'd known that claiming Magdalena as his wife had ruined his chances of becoming an
empresario. Empresarios
were expected to lead exemplary lives. Bigamists failed to qualify.

In San Antonio Ellis learned that in November, Benjamin, the brother of
empresario
Haden Edwards had ridden into Nacogdoches with a party of followers and ousted
Alcalde
Samuel Norris, who had used his office to block Haden Edwards in ways that weren't legal. Knowing nothing about the Edwards colony, which had been established during his absence, Ellis was unconcerned. “I'll bet twenty-five
pesos
the
alcalde
won't be kept out of office for long or hindered in his work,” he said to Saucedo. The political chief shook his head.

“Haden Edwards had a contract to bring eight hundred families to his grant around Nacogdoches,” he said. “It took him three years and cost him much money to get it, and he wanted only wealthy colonists. But many poor families have lived there for several generations, and their rights had to be respected. Edwards ordered all who claimed land within his grant to produce titles. If they didn't, he threatened to sell their property. The old families naturally resented having a foreigner dispossess them just because their titles were never completed through no fault of their own.” He paused.

“Edwards had no right to demand their titles or to sell any land at all,” Saucedo added grimly. ‘‘I explained this to him and ordered him to desist, but complaints against him made it clear that he ignored my orders.” Ellis looked shocked, for he knew that the other
empresarios
—Austin, León, and DeWitt—had been careful to follow instructions and obey Mexican laws.

“The Edwards brothers have shown only contempt for Mexican officials, even the governor,” Saucedo continued. “From their actions I suspected they planned to secede one day, and I warned the governor. He has canceled their contract and ordered them expelled, but we have no troops in Nacogdoches to expel them. If you were there, what would you do about that? They're your former countrymen.”

Ellis tugged at his earlobe as he pondered the question. “I'm a Mexican officer,” he replied, “and I know my duty. I'd hate to have to fight Americans, but if they're in the wrong I'll do it.” Saucedo stared at him, wondering what he'd do if he thought they were in the right. He left the question unasked, but he doubted the loyalty of all Anglos, except, perhaps, Austin and maybe DeWitt.

“It won't be necessary for you to expel them,” he told Ellis. “In a few days Colonel Ahumada will march there with his troops, and I plan to accompany him.” Ellis left immediately for San Felipe to talk to Austin.

When he reached the little village, he was shocked to learn that in mid-December a party of Edwards men had seized the Old Stone Fort, proclaimed the Republic of Fredonia, and ordered all Anglos to join them. He also learned that Hunter had returned from Mexico City without the promised land title, and the Cherokees were furious. The government would give them land as individual colonists, but not as a tribe.

Now aware that the situation in Nacogdoches was far more serious than he'd imagined possible, Ellis asked Austin for some of his militiamen and set out immediately with thirty-five of them. A few miles from Nacogdoches they met a grizzled frontiersman in greasy buckskins, who stopped his mustang pony.

“What's goin' on in town?” Ellis asked, wondering if he was an Edwards man. The rider frowned.

“Damned lot of foolishness, if you ask me,” he replied. “Some Edwards men are holed up in the old fort, and right now they're dickerin' with the Injuns to get their support. They're offerin' to divide Texas into Injun and white territories along the Nacogdoches-San Antonio road.” He squirted a stream of tobacco juice out of the corner of his mouth. “A lot of folks figger the Injuns would as leave lift white sculps as Meskin, and most are gettin' ready to head for the Sabine if they ain't done so already.”

“Can't say I blame ‘em for leaving,” Ellis said. “There's at least a thousand bucks in the area and none of them have any reason to like Americans. How many Fredonians are there in town?”

“At first there were about two hundred, but they forced some of them to go with ‘em, and those men left at the first opportunity. They're sure every American in Texas will gladly join them, but it seems folks around here don't cotton to that. Most are dead set agin ‘em.”

“Same with Austin and his people,” Ellis said. “They're goin' to join the troops when they march this way.” He glanced at his thirty-five men and shook his head. “If there's as many as you figure, we'd better find us some reinforcements before we go after ‘em.”

Knowing that if the Indians supported the Fredonians, whites would be killed or driven from East Texas, Ellis sent a man with messages for Fields and Hunter, who were both in Nacogdoches. He urged them not to get involved with the Fredonians, for that could lead to serious trouble for their people. While waiting for a reply, he penned a note to warn Austin. On the spur of the moment, he decided it sounded better to reverse his given names.

“There is one express rider going to your colony to make it rise up in arms, and today another will start,” he wrote. “I hope you will keep a good lookout, for those villains count on you and your men. But I know you have more knowledge of things than to be led astray to save men from their crimes. They find themselves lost and will swim against the stream as long as they can. I have divided them so that I now have seventy men coming from Ayish Bayou to attack those that are in Nacogdoches. I have as yet no reply from Fields, but am waiting hourly for an answer. If I succeed in breaking him off, then the fire is out instantly, and I have little doubt but that I shall succeed. Watch out, for they are trying to seduce your colony. Your most sincere friend, Pedro Ellis Bean.”

He anxiously sent another message, this time to war chief Bowles at the Cherokee village northwest of Nacogdoches. “If you try to set up an Indian state,” he warned, “both the U. S. and Mexico will feel threatened, and they won't stop until they destroy it. This alliance could be the ruin of your people.”

Soon after Ellis had reached the outskirts of Nacogdoches, he met Micajah. “We had a report from Mexico that you were dead,” he told Ellis. “You were gone so long everyone was sure it was true. I believed it, and Candace believed it. Three days before we heard you were coming, she married Martin Parmer. He left as soon as he knew she wasn't a widow after all.”

Ellis' face turned white, then red. “Parmer? I don't know him,” he growled.

“He's one of the main Fredonian leaders,” Micajah told him, “and he's one tough customer. Calls himself a ring-tailed panther, and I'd say that's about right. I'd hate to tangle with him, at close range, anyway.”

Ellis was mumbling, “damned faithless woman,” when Micajah stopped him.

“Think about it, my friend. You've been with your other wife, and you knew you weren't a widower. Candace thought she was a widow, on her own with two small children. She did only what she had to do. I say forgive her and put the whole thing out of your mind.” But Ellis continued muttering to himself.

He left Micajah and grimly rode to his ranch, where a pale-faced Candace greeted him apprehensively.

“I know all about it,” he growled. “I suppose his pecker is a lot bigger than mine,” he added, his face turning red. “Made you wish I really was dead, didn't it?”

Candace brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I was so lonely and desperate,” she sobbed. “I thought you'd decided to stay with your Mexican wife, then a man who'd been in Mexico said you had died. The children and I were having such a hard time. How could we go on without a man?”

She looked so sad and contrite Ellis was touched. You're being an ass about this, he told himself. What she says is true and you know it. But try as hard as he might to forget and forgive, the thought of burly Martin Parmer in his bed enjoying the doll-like Candace couldn't be banished from his mind.

The Fredonian revolt gave Ellis no time to brood over domestic affairs, for if an Indian war came, they might all be killed. A few days later, he wrote Austin concerning a letter he'd received from Elisha Roberts of Ayish Bayou. All of the men of the district, Roberts said, had planned to help put down the Fredonians until they learned that the Indians had joined them. Being so badly outnumbered by the Indians, married men of Ayish Bayou had taken their families across the Sabine.

“I wrote again to Richard Fields and Dr. Hunter,” Ellis added. “Fields finally sent word it was too late. If he'd seen me a month sooner, he said, perhaps we might have come to terms. That is all the satisfaction he gave me.”

In another letter, Ellis told Austin what he'd learned about the meeting of Indians and Fredonians in Nacogdoches. A man who attended it said that Hunter “pictured in strong and glowing language the gloomy alternative of abandoning their present abodes and returning within the limits of the United States or preparing to defend themselves against the whole power of the Mexican government by force of arms.”

Chief Fields spoke next. He told of traveling to Mexico City to beg some land on which to settle his poor, orphan tribe. He stayed there a year, he said, and was promised the land. He returned and waited, but nothing was done. Recently he sold his cattle to raise money to send John Dunn Hunter to Mexico. “They said they knew nothing of this Richard Fields and treated him with contempt,” he added. “I am a Red man, and a man of honor, and I can't be imposed on this way. We will lift our tomahawks and fight for land with all those friendly tribes that wish land. If I am beaten I will resign to my fate, and if not, I will hold our lands by the force of my red warriors.”

“So, my dear sir,” Ellis added, “the only way to stop this is to come forward and give them lands, or the country will be entirely lost. If we can break off the Indians, the thing is settled. Hurry Saucedo here and let him know what I write you.”

Ellis also enclosed a certificate and asked Austin to translate it into Spanish. In it Candace, under oath before an
alcalde,
declared that she had claimed she was married to Ellis “to save the property of Ellis Peter Bean in her hands as she supposed that he would never return.” When asked, “Were you ever lawfully married to Ellis Peter Bean?” she answered, “She never was.” Ellis had insisted on her testifying because on her marriage to Parmer, her property became his. Ellis had learned about the inquiry into his marital status, and he hoped that the certificate would also revive his chances of becoming an
empresario.