Gone to Texas (10 page)

Early in 1812 Ellis learned that royalist General Calleja had routed Rayón at Zitácuaro and scattered his army. In March Calleja, with eight thousand troops, besieged Morelos' army of four thousand in Cuautla. In early May a rebel officer wearily rode into Chilpancingo and found Ellis at his powder mill.

“The army and the citizens tried to slip away one night,” he gasped. “Calleja pursued us and slaughtered everyone without mercy, even the families. Morelos barely escaped—many men gave their lives so he wouldn't be captured. He told us before we marched that if we were scattered, to meet him at Izúcar. He wants you there.”

Taking half of the troops guarding Chilpancingo, Ellis hurried to Izúcar with all the available guns and a pack train with two thousand pounds of powder. He was greatly relieved to find Morelos there, but shocked at the sight of his hollow cheeks. His clothes, once tight, hung on him like flour sacks on a post.

“We tried to hold out until the rains began,” he weakly explained. “That would have forced them to leave. But the rains were late, and we ran out of food. There wasn't another rat or lizard left.” He paused, looking chagrined. “Friends in Mexico City say that Calleja told the viceroy he would abandon the siege in another day or two.”

“Rotten luck,” Ellis said. “Cooley and Danlin were with you. Do you know if they escaped?”

Morelos shook his head. “Cooley was out foraging when a royalist patrol caught him. They undoubtedly shot him. I don't know about Danlin.”

“What will you do now?” Ellis asked, wondering if Morelos was so discouraged he'd accept the viceroy's offer of pardon to any insurgent who laid down his arms.

Morelos' sunken eyes flashed. “Why, keep fighting, of course. One defeat, even a disaster like this, doesn't mean the war is lost. The viceroy ordered Calleja to destroy me, but here I am. I won't stop till we're free. Or until I'm dead,” he added, lowering his voice. “But you're not a Mexican. If you want to leave I'll understand.”

Ellis gazed at the little rebel leader with unconcealed admiration. “I'm with you,” he vowed, “to the end. As long as there are royalists to kill, I'm staying.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Morelos said hoarsely. “I will never give up.”

The rebel soldiers who had escaped during the attack straggled into Chiutla, where Morelos had moved. Many men, most with only machetes for weapons, came from the countryside, eager to serve under Morelos. When a large force had been gathered and trained briefly they marched to Chilapa, which the royalists had reoccupied after Morelos left. The royalist commander refused to surrender. As he boldly led an infantry charge, Ellis recalled his fright when the Spaniards attacked Nolan's fort, and smiled. The sound of enemy gunfire was no longer terrifying. The garrison surrendered after a brief resistance.

After forcing the royalists to abandon the siege of Huajuacán, Morelos marched to the rich city of Tehuacán, the trade center for the provinces of Puebla, Oaxaca, and Veracruz. Ellis beamed and Morelos almost smiled as cheering citizens lined the streets and church bells pealed. Since the city was within striking distance of the Veracruz-Mexico City road, and a strategic base for campaigns against Mexico City, Veracruz, or Oaxaca, Morelos made it his headquarters.

On learning that most of the royal troops at Orizaba had been withdrawn to escort a large pack train from Perote to Veracruz, Morelos marched there with eight hundred men. Against little resistance, they seized the king's tobacco warehouse, helped themselves to all they could carry, then set fire to the rest.

“That cuts one of the king's purse strings,” Morelos remarked, nodding his head toward the clouds of tobacco smoke that billowed about them. Tobacco was a much resented royal monopoly.

They returned to Tehuacán in high spirits, confident there were no royalists in the area. But the much larger pack train escort, on learning of the attack on Orizaba, had hastily marched to intercept them. Surprised, Morelos' men quickly formed two lines, but the enemy cavalry and grenadiers drove the first line back to the second. After a fierce fight, the outnumbered rebel soldiers broke and fled, with difficulty saving most of their artillery. Ellis, along with Morelos and other officers, put spurs to their horses and escaped, with musket balls whistling about them.

“We took a real flogging,” Ellis remarked when they reached Tehuácan.

“That we did,” Morelos admitted, his expression grave.

“Other than destroying the king's tobacco, we have accomplished little this year, and the enemy grows more confident.” He paused, looking thoughtful, then continued.

“We must strike the enemy where it hurts and give new life to our cause,” he said. “I'm going to gather our forces and take Oaxaca. But tell no one where we're going. The enemy has spies everywhere.”

He called in Victor Bravo and his division from the Mixteca, and the warrior priest Mariano Matamoros and his troops from Izúcar. Fighting men come in all shapes and sizes, Ellis thought. The Bravos were tall, muscular men, the sons of an
hacendado.
Matamoros was small and thin, with a pockmarked face and blue eyes. He had, for one his size, a surprisingly powerful voice. Morelos considered him his left arm and Hermenegildo Galeana his right arm.

Shortly before they marched, Manuel Mier y Terán, a handsome young graduate of the School of Mines, rode up on a fine horse and offered his services. He was tall and slender, with light skin, brown hair, black eyes, and a neatly trimmed mustache. Morelos welcomed him warmly and gave him the rank of colonel of Engineers.

Ellis, now a major of Engineers, but without any formal training, looked over his new commander wondering how, at twenty-nine, it would be to serve under an officer who couldn't be more than twenty. Mier y Terán was obviously a member of a prominent creole family, an aristocrat accustomed to comforts. How will he react the first time he hears enemy gunfire? Ellis wondered. Then, recalling the attack on Nolan's fort, he smiled wryly. Probably the same way I did. I didn't quite pee my pants, but it was a close call. Mier appeared to be affable as well as intelligent, and dedicated to Mexican independence. Ellis decided to reserve judgment.

The rebel army, now nearly five thousand strong, headed into the rugged mountains that lay between Tehuácan and Oaxaca. As his stomach protested its emptiness, Ellis plodded up the steep roads on foot, for there weren't enough horses and mules to haul the artillery and carry sufficient provisions—all were on half-rations. As he looked around at the Mexicans from nearly every walk of life who were willingly risking their lives and sacrificing their comforts for Morelos and independence, Ellis felt warm and forgot his hunger.

After nearly two weeks of hard-going, they descended to the fertile plains that surrounded Oaxaca on November 24. Ellis gazed in admiration at the huge fig trees, the orchards, and vineyards—Oaxaca was a garden spot. They stopped at an
hacienda
a few miles from the city and made camp in a field, while Morelos sent royalist commander Gonazález Saravia a demand to surrender. He refused.

The next morning, Morelos divided his force into six columns, leaving one to guard the camp, two to cut off escape routes, and holding one in reserve. With one column, Colonel Ramón Sesma attacked the fort, which was surrounded by a moat and connected to the city by a drawbridge. Ellis and Mier each commanded an infantry company in the column under Galeana and Matamoros, who sent them to capture the gate at the Marquesado Street entrance. The two led a spirited charge and opened the gate, allowing the rest of the column to rush through it. They drove the royalists back to the plaza. Ellis no longer wondered how the youthful colonel would do under enemy fire—Mier was a bom warrior.

In the attack on the fort, Manuel Félix Fernández, who later changed his name to Guadalupe Victoria, plunged into the moat, determined to swim across and lower the drawbridge. He was immediately bogged down in thick mud, and had to be pulled out. After two hours of fighting, the royalists hauled down their flag.

Knowing Oaxaca was a rich enemy stronghold, the rebel troops for once ignored Morelos' injunction against looting, and plundered the shops and homes of Spaniards. Morelos immediately ordered the political prisoners released. Ellis felt sick when he saw the wretched, half-starved men, but Morelos was outraged. He had them lifted to the backs of horses and paraded throughout the city to give the people a taste of royalist brutality. Then he ordered four of the royalist commanders shot.

Morelos soon formed a town council of creoles, or Spanish Mexicans, and extended patriot control over the surrounding area. Mier took charge of the royalist armory, while Ellis opened a powder factory.

In January 1813 they learned that ruthless General Calleja had been named viceroy. Early the next month, Morelos left Colonel Rocha and Ellis with one thousand troops to hold Oaxaca, and set out with the rest for Acapulco. Along the way, he sent columns under his lieutenants to seize strategic towns. He wrote that he'd taken Acapulco and besieged the Castle San Diego. Its temporary governor, he added, was a Captain Vélez. Ellis smiled grimly when he read that.

“If I didn't kill Carreño,” he said, “at least I put him out of action.”

“I wish Morelos would just leave troops to pin down the garrison and get on with the campaign,” Rocha remarked, looking worried. “Every day the siege lasts means the enemy is that much stronger. The Spaniards here are boasting that Spain is sending three thousand soldiers who fought Napoleon. We should be closing in on Mexico City, not wasting time on Acapulco. That could lead to our undoing.” His expression became gloomier. “I'm not a prophet,” he said, “ but for the first time I have a bad feeling about the revolution.” Ellis said nothing, wishing Morelos would send for him.

Ellis waited anxiously for news of Morelos. He knew that in June, while the siege of San Diego Castle went on, Morelos had invited all rebel-held provinces to send delegates to a congress in Chilpancingo in September, for Oaxaca had elected a delegate. In August news came that San Diego Castle had finally surrendered, after a siege of seven months. Morelos had granted generous surrender terms, then hurried to Chilpancingo. Ellis also heard that three thousand Spanish troops had landed at Veracruz, but his confidence in Morelos remained unshaken. Mier y Terán, he knew, had won several victories. Why do I have to stay here making gunpowder when my friends are fighting the enemy? It was frustrating.

The next news of Morelos made a knot form in his stomach. Late in December, with a large army, Morelos had attacked Valladolid, a strategic city Rayón had tried to take earlier. Learning of his march, Calleja had rushed powerful reinforcements there, and they repulsed the patriots with heavy losses. Before they could regroup, Agustín de Iturbide slipped out after dark with three hundred cavalry. His surprise attack had thrown the patriots into such confusion they fired on one another. The royalist cavalry swept through Morelos' camp and only the desperate resistance of his men saved him from capture. The patriot soldiers were so demoralized they fled. Unable to check their flight, the officers spiked the cannon and followed, with the enemy in hot pursuit.

A few days later, early in January 1814, the royalists overtook them and forced them to make a stand even though they were without cannon. The royalist artillery decimated the patriot ranks, and a number of officers, including the able Matamoros, were captured. Morelos offered to exchange two hundred Spanish prisoners for him, but the royalists took him to Valladolid and shot him. Morelos ordered Acapulco burned and abandoned after the royalists captured the forts at El Veladero. The siege had been a waste of time. Ellis groaned aloud when he read the bad news. Rocha's fears had been justified.

A messenger from Morelos brought a letter promoting Ellis to colonel and ordering Rocha to march with eight hundred men, leaving two hundred with Ellis and Captain Simón Méndez. “Things look bad, Elias,” Rocha said when they shook hands. “The siege gave Calleja time to destroy all rebel armies in the north; now he's concentrating his forces on the south. When they come here, as they surely will, save your men and all the powder you can carry. Try to get it to Morelos. If he still has an army, that is,” he added.

In March a rebel courier dashed into Oaxaca. What now? Ellis wondered, as the man's lathered horse slid to a stop.

“The enemy is coming,” the rider panted. “At least one thousand men, maybe more.”

“Where is Morelos?”

“Who knows? The last I heard he was at Apatzingán with the congress. By now he could be anywhere. Or nowhere.”

Ellis ordered his men to pack the mules with powder and two thousand pesos, all the money available. He frowned at the sight of royalist sympathizers joyfully preparing to welcome the approaching army. With his two hundred men and the pack train, Ellis headed north, carefully avoiding the oncoming enemy column, and not stopping to rest. In the mountains they came upon a camp of nearly one hundred ragged, bearded men. Brigands by the look of them, Ellis thought. Their stocky leader approached, eying the pack train, then the soldiers.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To Morelos.” The bandit chief glanced again at the weary pack mules, and at the soldiers, who held their muskets ready. He spat.

“You're wasting your time,” he told Ellis. “Lots of us have given up; many more have also accepted pardons and now fight for the king. You're as likely to be killed by former friends as by enemies. You'd do better to throw in with us.”

“Doing what?”

“Knocking off Spanish pack trains.”

Ellis appeared to consider that, then shook his head. “I promised to get this powder to Morelos,” he said. “I've got to try.”

The bandit leader couldn't conceal his irritation. “Fighting is useless, I tell you,” he growled, his voice rising. “The revolution is dead. They'll catch Morelos sooner or later, if they haven't already.”