First Rangers and the Texas Revolution

By Dr. K. M. Ware

In the early 1800s, John William Ware and Joseph Lindley each enter the Texas frontier with the dream of acquiring free land through grants provided by Mexico. They subsequently get caught up in the conflict between Texas and Mexico about legal title to the land. Mexico begins to lose its hold on Texas, and hostilities escalate. These ex-army veterans find themselves at the center of the fight for Texas independence.

John William Ware and Joseph Lindley spent about ten years in the US Army before coming into Texas. Associates of John's still respectfully address him as captain when he forms a company of men to defend landowners and other settlers in the hostile Texas frontier.

Their desire for land under Texas self-governance draws them into the revolution against Mexico, in defense of their right to these lands. Confrontations begin with the Fredonian Rebellion in Nacogdoches where these two men join forces for the benefit of Texas residents.

Captain Ware and Lieutenant Lindley bring their evolving company of rangers to assist Texas in the seizure of Velasco, Goliad, and Bexar. Generalissimo Santa Anna comes into Texas with a vengeance. He devastates Goliad and Bexar with a merciless massacre. Captain Ware and his rangers join General Sam Houston and the Texas Army to defeat and capture Santa Anna at San Jacinto.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639616299

Book preview

Chapter 1

Volunteers

At one time, South Texas was unspoiled by the destructive bane of modern civilization. It was now early December, the beginning of the real winter season, and a heavy freeze had crystallized everything in sight. For years, Mexico had operated a few far-flung missions and forts along the Texas frontier. Due to their great distance from Mexico, they were usually undermanned and undersupplied. Some eventually fell into disuse and abandonment.

In the midst of a sparsely wooded, broad plain in this hostile wilderness, then called Tejas, sat the small Mexican settlement of Béxar and its associated mission fort known as the Alamo. About this time, Mexico had begun increasing its presence in Texas, and Béxar subsequently came to be manned by a contingent of about a thousand troops under Generalissimo Cos, making up roughly half of the total population. They were poorly equipped, and their quarters were almost in ruin due to an earlier abandonment.

Captain John William Ware and his second-in-command, Lieutenant Joseph Lindley, had a combined military history and experience of twenty years in the United States Army. They had both initially come to Texas with the hope of free land through Mexican grants. They now stood on a ridge overlooking the usually quiet and peaceful settlement of Béxar, faced with the prospect of fighting for the freedom and independence of Texas.

Captain Ware was a man of imposing presence and few words. His longish beard was streaked with gray down both sides while the center retained the darkness of a bygone youth. He carried two flintlock sidearms on his left side because he also preferred to keep his army saber at his right. When John had anything to say, it was usually to Lieutenant Lindley, who was quick to speak his mind and always got the job done.

Joseph served under Captain Ware in the United States Army and followed him to Texas with dreams of obtaining free land grants from Mexico, as both their families had done previously. Lieutenant Lindley kept his beard trimmed short and was never without his hat. He often said he had more hair on his chin that his damn head.

Leading a company of nine rangers in from the northeast, Captain Ware pulled up to an abrupt stop at the sight laid out before him.

Would you look at this mess, he commented to no one in particular as the rangers gazed over the plain.

There were some three-hundred-odd volunteers, in various scattered camps, settled well outside the outer reaches of the Béxar community. These makeshift camps were planted among small pastures and groves of trees that provided sustenance to the mission population. The unorganized scene spread out before them looked more like a mass exodus of frontier refugees than an offensive effort at independence. There was nothing even close to a standard uniform, unless buckskins and coonskin caps qualified.

Disarray seemed to be the order of the day. Volunteers had pitched a camp or simply made a fire in the grassy meadows surrounding Béxar wherever a group of men were drawn together by some commonality. Strewn about these undefined camps was any number of worn and tattered saddles and other gear and tack common to the frontiersman. There was also the familiar bedroll laid out but unattended wherever comfort dictated. Each fire had its own stock of cooking utensils, including the prerequisite pot of black coffee.

This hodgepodge was composed of frontiersmen and trappers, farmers and settlers, maybe some ex-soldiers, volunteers all the same. Yet every individual man was there to show Mexico that they would not be governed by their political system of rulership. They all believed that Texas could rule and govern itself, and these men were there to establish that rulership.

This ragtag mass of ruffians is supposed to be the Texas Revolutionary Army, Joseph commented in disbelief. There was not yet an official Texas Army and even less sense of authority or command in this camp.

Joseph turned to John in a hushed voice. There’s a lot of ’em, but if it was the real Mexican Army they had to face, they’d have no chance.

That may be, Lieutenant, but every man here looks ready to put his life on the line for Texas, John replied. That’s gotta count for something.

As the rangers rode in closer and approached some of the camps, the volunteers began to gather and stare in wonder. Many of them had already heard the infamy of these rangers and their captain Ware. John reined his big chestnut mare to a halt and silently looked over the men gathered to defend their lands and Texas against the encroaching Mexico.

These newest arrivals had an air of authority and assurance about them as they sat stoically in their saddles. This small company of rangers was the closest thing to an organized fighting force in the whole menagerie, and it showed.

Who’s in command here? John asked with a voice that broke the silence like a bell toll.

The volunteers continued to stare in silence when someone finally found his voice. Well, sir, uh, we ain’t really got no command, ’cept for Commander Burleson, I guess.

Then what the hell are you doing here? John asked with obvious aggravation that quickly silenced the lone individual.

A different volunteer stepped forward and confidently announced, Well, I’ll tell you what we’re here for. Me and my men have fought and killed many a savage Indian, and we are prepared to stand for Texas against these Mexicans this very day.

Captain Ware sized the man up and could see that he had the respect of the men standing around him as they nodded their heads to his every word. He was a good-sized man but looked more the part of an Indian than that of a settler. And who might you be? he then asked.

Name’s Jim Bowie, sir. At your service.

Well, Mr. Bowie, we might want to have a talk with you later, John replied. First though, my men need some grub and rest. We’ll set up camp right here if no one objects, he added with authority.

The whole crowd nodded in unison as some men shuffled their feet nervously, not knowing exactly what to expect of this new sense of order.

You might want to look up Burleson, Jim suggested. He’s the official commander of this here volunteer army.

Where might I find your commander Burleson? John casually asked.

He’s camped off to the south side of town, Jim offered. Just look for a red, white, and blue banner with a single white star.

After the rangers made camp and relaxed with hot cups of coffee a bit, a tall and lanky man with long hair and unkempt beard approached. Well, well, the individual sneered, if it ain’t old John William Ware, the infamous war hero.

That’s Captain Ware if you don’t mind. John glared at the visitor who obviously had plenty to drink.

Captain! the man snorted. Captain of what, a band of killers and thieves?

You don’t look much like a respectable man yourself, John suggested. And what are you doing here? he asked with increasing aggravation.

Hey, Cousin—the visitor grinned—take it easy. This ain’t the war anymore.

It’s not? John asked as if someone was confused. Well, for the second time, what are you doing here, Leonard?

We’re just lookin’ to whoop some Mexican ass and run ’em out of Texas, he confidently replied.

It’s not going to be that easy without some order and a chain of command, John suggested. But like you said, Leonard, this ain’t the war anymore, right? When Leonard didn’t respond, John passively added, Do what you do best, maybe find a card game or something else to be about.

Though distaste for the captain’s order and discipline rankled him, Leonard turned around and walked away without another word. Leonard Williams was usually somewhat of a hothead and always looking for trouble. John was married to Naomi Williams, a sister to Leonard, whose family had entered Texas by way of the Austin colony.

John looked over the local landscape and realized that these men could remain camped there for quite some time if the Mexican soldiers didn’t get tired of them. The locals had cultivated a number of small communal gardens that currently bore winter crops, and they tended to the occasional domesticated animal. A number of goats, a few pigs, and various fowl roamed freely. They even kept a few cows in closer proximity to the community. The volunteers could live off the land for a bit, yet John knew their restlessness would surface sooner than not.

Initially, the mission soldiers were more surprised than they were alarmed by the sudden mass influx of apparent settlers, if that’s what they were. New settlers camped outside the community’s common pasturage was not altogether unusual. At first, they saw no real threat from this growing hoard but didn’t know what to think of it. The mission environment brought different people together for a common cause and cooperation, and travelers were continuously passing through. Some quickly moved on while others stayed longer. Still, there was more than there should have been, and the numbers kept growing. The soldiers suspected some kind of hostile intention was in the making.

The volunteers were becoming restless and impatient for action. After spending the next day sizing up the situation, John had a meeting with Commander Burleson. That night, he asked Joseph to round up Mr. Bowie and Leonard and ask them to join him in his tent. Joseph passed the order on to one of the sergeants.

While waiting for the men to show up, John considered the volunteers at his disposal. For every inflated ego, there was an even bigger knife or rifle. These frontiersmen had faced the wilderness, wild animals, and even Indians many times. There was nothing Mexico had that they could fear.

The two men met Joseph, and they joined John as he was gazing upon the distant settlement of Béxar in a moment of personal reverie.

Joseph offered them a seat around their fire. Can I get either of you a cup of coffee? he then asked.

Anything stronger? Leonard immediately responded.

Yeah, I’ll go with stronger too, Jim quickly added.

John’s attention was drawn back to the present with its associated issues as he quickly interjected, Maybe later.

I guess this ain’t a social call then, Leonard disappointedly suggested.

No, Leonard, it isn’t, John replied. He then introduced Jim Bowie to Leonard Williams and acknowledged that Jim had already meet the lieutenant.

Well, well! What a pleasure it is to be in the presence of two greats, such as Captain John William Ware and Jim Bowie! Leonard jabbed. What have I done to deserve such a blessing?

Joseph was not at all amused with Leonard’s usual sarcasm. Can it, he ordered. We have important things to discuss here.

Jim considered a distant recollection, eyeing Leonard curiously, and then asked, Williams, huh? You got family up around Nacogdoches?

A lot of family out that way, Leonard replied. Montgomery and Austin too. Casting an eye in John’s direction, he added, Ain’t that right, Captain?

It was a blacksmith named Williams in Nacogdoches that made me this here knife. Jim pulled a big knife from a sheath on his thigh and brandished the larger-than-life blade like a trophy.

That was probably James, an older brother, Leonard suggested. He’s been smithing since my family first came out here from Missouri. One of the best, that James, he added proudly.

Yeah, of course, James. Bowie remembered. That was his name.

Enough pillow talk, you two, John interrupted. I look to take Béxar in the morning, and that means strategy tonight.

The two men looked surprised at this new bit of information as Jim returned his prized knife to its sheath in dejection.

Chapter 2

Preparations

If we expect to take Béxar at the earliest opportunity and against trained soldiers, we have to establish some order of our own, John began explaining. Anybody got a problem with that? he then asked with an air of finality.

John considered the expressions on each man’s face before he continued. There was not the slightest sign of hesitation in the leathered faces staring back at him. I’ve had a talk with Commander Burleson, John explained. Though he hasn’t heard from Sam Houston, he’s given me a nod to mount an attack on this fort in the morning. I think his actual words were ‘It’s your funeral,’ but I don’t see it that way.

What do ya got in mind, Captain? Jim asked.

We have to act before this crowd does something stupid, John suggested.

The rest of the men seemed to agree as they nodded consent.

An old friend of mine named Ben Milam has asked to lead an attack. Commander Burleson can’t sanction it, but he isn’t gonna stop it either. Ben and a Frank Johnson will lead two different columns of men. John looked at the three men sitting before him more intently for a moment and then continued to explain the plan. I have offered to assist with an advance scouting if you men want some action. Captain Ware fell silent as he let this news sink in.

Lieutenant Lindley then picked up the briefing. This community has about a thousand soldiers scattered throughout it, not just at the mission fort, and they are better trained and armed, Joseph explained. The last thing they expect though is an attack, he pointed this fact out with emphasis. After scouting the town and getting intelligence back to Commander Burleson, we will secure the mission fort. There are at least seven cannons there that must be secured before Milam and Johnson can move in from the west.

Give me some dynamite and I’ll take care of those cannons myself, Leonard excitedly interrupted.

Just pay attention for a change, will you? Joseph replied, giving Leonard a stern look of impatience.

John picked up the discussion again. I don’t think you can get close enough, Leonard. What we need is four small separate squads, he suggested.

If that’s what you want, Captain, you got it, Jim eagerly responded.

Can you work with us on this, Leonard? John asked, giving Leonard his full attention.

No problem, Captain, Leonard replied. Sure, I can do that and some, he added mischievously.

Captain Ware then addressed both Jim and Leonard, You two get about five men together each and have them on standby for early morning before sunrise. Lieutenant Lindley and myself will split my rangers into two squads. You two meet us back here in a couple of hours. Everyone clear?

The two men nodded in agreement and quickly left to gather their volunteers.

When Leonard and Jim had cleared out, John addressed Joseph. Get the men prepared and make sure they all get some rest tonight. I’ll leave it up to you to form the two squads, he suggested.

Yes, sir, Joseph smartly snapped. He then turned to depart also.

And, Lieutenant? John interrupted.

Sir?

Keep an eye on Leonard. Make sure he stays sober, John suggested. I’m a little uncomfortable with him out of my sight.

On it, sir, Joseph replied with a knowing grin.

Leonard knew right where to go to get his volunteers. First, he ran down James JB Bradshaw and Hardy Brooks. Both these men were always ready to follow Leonard anywhere, Hardy probably less so. He was new to gunfighting and killing and somewhat unsure of himself but was JB’s best friend. They knew that Leonard was always in the middle of some kind of action, be it good or bad. And of course, they wanted part of it.

Leonard also singled out Big Henry for his sharpshooting skills. Leonard didn’t think that was his real name, but it’s what everyone called him, and it didn’t make any difference to Leonard anyway. Lastly, he asked Little Jack to join them, possibly for lack of any other choice.

Jim immediately sought out two Black men he had met earlier while circulating through the camps. Logan Greenberry and Arnold Hendrik were both known residents of Béxar or at least had extensive knowledge of the community. Of course, there was Markus who was never far from Jim’s side and thought to be somewhat of a doctor. He had originally ridden out to Béxar with Jim. They also reluctantly agreed to take along a young English lad named Kenny Coxen who more than insisted once he heard what they were up to.

Though it was well after dark now, none of the other camps had settled down much. It seemed that every individual fire was the center of some revelry or Diez y Seis festival.

Jim was the first to show back up, and he joined Captain Ware at fireside. John offered him a bottle of whiskey.

Ah! It must be later now! Jim replied.

Late enough, Mr. Bowie.

Please, Captain, Jim will be fine, sir.

I’ve heard a lot about your frontier exploits, Mr. B… Jim, John stumbled. You’ve got quite the reputation.

Well, Captain, I guess that would mean I’m in comparable company.

It is because of your reputation that I called you to this assault, John explained. Leonard, on the other hand, well, that’s a different story.

A few of the rangers had gathered by the campfire expecting tales of the wild frontier from Jim. After a short time, Leonard and Joseph also approached and took seats near the fire, absorbing its warmth as the night chilled further.

John passed the bottle of whiskey to Leonard who took a couple of big pulls before passing it over to Joseph. Take it easy on that stuff, John warned. We have a lot of work before us in the morning.

Joseph passed on a drink himself and handed the bottle over to Jim instead.

Slowly looking to each man present, Captain Ware laid out the situation in greater detail. We have four small squads of scouts whose job is to clear the way for Ben Milam and Frank Johnson and their volunteers, he explained. We hit ’em hard and fast at daybreak and from four different directions. This will keep ’em dispersed. John momentarily looked to each man for understanding. We move towards the center of town and the mission fort. That’s where we have to eliminate those cannons, he added with emphasis. We have to accomplish this before the volunteers come along, John stressed. Then he added as an aside, Do this right and we save the lives of a lot of these volunteers.

After an extended moment of silence, John went on to explain the other logistics of the assault. There were three irrigation canals running north and south. Two of them ran through town to the west of the San Antonio River, originally named after Saint Anthony. The third one to the east ran right past the mission fort. Various roads crisscrossed the community with one main thoroughfare piercing the center of town from east and west.

This is the route by which Milam and Johnson will enter. John indicated the westernmost part of the main road. That’s what they would expect, but we will be taking a different tack, he added by explanation.

Of course, calling some of these paths roads would be giving the settlers more credit than they merited. The main routes of travel and commerce were no more than the packed dirt and rutted passageways of an early frontier society. Due to constant traffic, no grass had the slightest chance of taking root. During the dry season, they were hard and dusty while the wet season turned them into a muddy slop. Other narrow alleys and cross-connecting paths ran between buildings and from one main avenue to another, some simply ending in dead ends. It was not the ideal place to wage a battle.

Captain Ware continued to explain his plan of attack. My squad and the lieutenant’s will also enter town from the west along the main avenue. Turning to Jim, the captain added, Your squad will take the north along the westernmost irrigation canal. Turning his attention next to Leonard, John further explained, Leonard, you will come in from the south along the second canal. We work toward the center of town, securing all structures, then advance down the main road to the east and the mission fort.

So exactly how are we supposed to handle this? Leonard interrupted. Kill ’em all or what? I mean I’m okay with that. Just thought I’d ask.

Well, obviously not, John replied with building agitation, wondering if he had made a real bad call with Leonard. There are a lot of settlers here who mean us no harm. We simply advance structure to structure, building by building, showing them that someone else is now in control of Béxar. Everybody understand? John asked. Then he added, Give any settlers the chance to leave, and confront only the soldiers. I want our backs cleared before advancing to the mission fort.

The average inhabitant of these mission communities was either a Mexican settler or native Indian with the occasional Anglo settler who had found security in numbers. The mission or fort would have been manned by missionaries and protected by a detachment of Mexican soldiers who provided order and security in such dangerous environs. The missionary priests sought to bring God and salvation to the natives by coaxing them in out of the wilds and what they considered a savage life and introduce them to relative civilization.

Captain Ware began to wrap up his briefing. I can only caution you to watch your backs and your line of fire. Remember, it is the Mexican soldiers we are fighting, though you may meet with some minor resistance from settlers who don’t understand what is happening. John explained, Our goal here, men, is to scout the main areas of resistance and clear the way for Milam and Johnson.

All of a sudden, gunshots went off nearby and abruptly interrupted the discussions. Other rangers who had been listening in at the edge of the fire’s light were quick to respond. Jim and Leonard looked to John in anticipation.

I’ll look into it, Joseph calmly replied as he stood and walked off into the darkness.

More gunshots rang out, and the rest of the men were about to investigate when Joseph and another ranger stepped out of the inky darkness rimming the campfire’s warming glow.

Just some roughhousing by anxious men, Joseph explained when he returned to the light and his seat by the fire.

Lieutenant, we had better post some sentries to keep an eye on the soldiers at the fort tonight, Captain Ware ordered. I want to know their actions and whereabouts as much as possible come first thing tomorrow morning.

Yes, sir, Joseph sharply replied. I’ll pull two men from my squad to start the first watch now. Mr. Bowie, have your men relieve them at zero one hundred hours. Leonard, you finish up with the third watch at zero four hundred.

The captain concluded his briefing with a final announcement. I want you all to get some rest. Make sure your men are rested also. Tomorrow we take Béxar away from Mexico in the name of an independent Texas.

Joseph turned to attend to assigning watch duty. The other rangers who had been gathered nearby slowly made their way to their tents or found some comfortable place to lie down for some well-needed rest.

Chapter 3

Grass Fight

By early morning, a heavy frost coated the Texas prairie grass like a dusting of powdered sugar. It was still early December, but winter wasn’t waiting for no man. The frost had brought on a chill that kept Leonard from a restful sleep. Though he had designated two individuals to relieve Jim’s men at watch, Leonard decided to accompany them for lack of anything better to occupy his restless mind.

JB was sleeping in his boots. The poor soles were worn paper-thin from years of trudging across the rough Texas prairie. Hardy was curled up next to a fallen tree like a baby deer without his momma.

Leonard gave them both a swift kick. JB! Brooks! he called out to the unsuspecting men. I said four o’clock. Let’s get a move on. Duty calls.

Hardy was abruptly jarred from his restful sleep and cast a wary eye at JB when he realized that Leonard was joining them.

The three men struggled across the frosty grounds and in the dim light in search of Jim’s men. They eventually found them along the eastern canal and took up their own position south of the main avenue near the canal crossing. The land was ravaged due to the fall harvest of corn. A biting north wind howled across the barren rows of dirt and scraggly stalks. The men found some measure of cover for their overwatch in a field of wild grasses as they hunkered down for concealment.

The soldiers within the mission fort and community of Béxar were unsure of the intentions of these gathering Texans. At the same time, the Texas volunteers were becoming more and more anxious for any kind of action. The San Antonio River Valley was a tinderbox in the dead of winter. The slightest spark of a temper or misunderstanding could ignite the whole prairie.

Three long, cold, and quite hours into their watch morning began its feeble attempt to break over the eastern horizon. The early morning glow struggled against a smothering winter fog for the light of day. Eventually, the three watchers could detect the slightest images of activity along the fringes of town. They appeared as ghostly silhouettes floating through the drifting haze.

After a long chilling night of dead silence, Leonard was roused by other movement off to the east along the main road. What do you think that’s all about? he commented to no one in particular.

Can’t really tell, JB responded as he squinted, trying to get a clear vision of the road. Looks like some kind of mule train heading into Béxar.

No, Leonard suggested as he studied the scene more intently. No. I think those are Mexican soldiers.

Yeah, they are, JB then replied. Reinforcements, you think?

With increasing interest and concern, Leonard continued to squint into the dim light of dawn himself, trying to make out what these approaching soldiers were up to. No, too few, he finally suggested. We need to get closer, he then announced with new urgency. They look to be pack mules, and I wanna know what they are a packin’.

The three men silently slipped off into the early morning mist. They headed in a direction that would intercept the mule train before it crossed the canal. The high grass temporarily obscured their sight of the soldiers, yet at the same time, it hid their own presence from the soldiers. Using a dry creek bed for cover, they were able to get within twenty yards of the road ahead of the packtrain.

Concealed behind an embankment, Leonard signaled with a whisper, Keep quiet and stay put. He crept up the loose rock and dirt mound to observe the mule train’s approach. It was still somewhat dark; and the soldiers were just silhouettes against the stark, flat, and pale roadway. Sunrise was delayed by the heavy December cloud cover and fog that was also getting thicker by the minute.

Leonard slid down the embankment to join his men in the creek bed. Those soldiers are carrying bags of silver meant for the Mexican Army’s payroll, he excitedly explained his vision. I say we make a surprise ambush and stop that shipment.

Well, uh, how many are there? Hardy asked with mounting concern.

There are only four of ’em and three of us, Leonard growled. If we jump ’em from this position and with the growing fog, they will be too surprised to react quick enough to save their hides.

Hardy was nervous because this would be his first real gunfight. Are you sure they got…silver? he stammered. I mean, what if they’re just takin’ their mules out to pasture or somethin’?

Williams’s frustration was increasing when he