Post by Steve on Jun 28, 2013 22:47:34 GMT
This is perhaps my most promising story yet.....It's "La Tierra Afortunada".....and it happens to be a Mexico wank, although not quite the one you would expect.
TBH, Mexico IOTL is a country that's had so much promise, but that's also been screwed so badly by circumstances, unfortunate political dealings, and just plain bad luck. I think they deserve a chance to be one of those places on top, and this TL intends to realize just that. As with my first TL, "Stars & Stripes", I've taken a multiple-POD approach with this one: no one change produces the universe as it evolves, but rather, many.
Also featuring the adventures of misplaced Yankee Lysander Spooner, the follies of Santa Anna, and problems within Texas.....oh, and did I mention Van Buren wins a second term thanks to James G. Birney?
La Tierra Afortunada: A Better and Nicer Mexico.
POD: April 9, 1839.[1a]
The United States in 1839 is in a bit of trouble at the moment: Just two years ago, the Panic of 1837 swept the country following an ill-planned, controversial and poorly thought-out decision by Andrew Jackson to dismantle the Second Bank of the United States the previous year. The entire country has been hard hit by these problems, but no more so than much of the Deep South(even Florida, whose residents were known for punctual payments, had trouble keeping up!), and several of the northeastern states, Vermont, Connecticut and New Jersey in particular. Martin Van Buren was in office only for about nine weeks before the economy crashed in May of that year, and yet unfortunately (perhaps unjustly) received much of the blame, though it can be argued that Van Buren's own refusal to involve the government in the matter couldn't have helped his case, as it exacerbated the problem.
Within 2 months, nearly $100 million worth of bank losses had been reported, in the state of New York alone. And it wasn't restricted to just banks, either; New York City lost over 250 of its businesses in the month of April, before the real crash began!
Farmers, too, have been affected: though the crop harvest in 1837 out in the old Northwest was rather good by most standards, which helped them weather the first months of the ongoing crisis, prices have begun a sharp drop and many now find themselves struggling to stay afloat. And, worst of all, many state financial institutions, too, have found themselves collapsing.
As things continue to go south, many people wonder when and where it will all end[1].
We turn, for a second, to Mexico, which is having to deal with a few of it's own problems today.
In 1836, President Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was deposed after the fiasco in Texas which allowed that state to break off and become its own country, after being declared unfit for rule by the Mexican Congress. He did eventually make a comeback during the Pastry War[2], and had tried to rebuild his reputation, using his war service as a crutch. On March 20th, 1839, Santa Anna arrived back in Mexico City to a mixed reaction; some were indeed grateful for his return, but many others not so much. But just as Santa Anna was getting used to being back in the driver's seat, as it were, the generals Jose Mexia and Jose Urrea began into action a plot to orchestrate his overthrow, not two weeks after his re-ascension to office. Already having been deposed once, Santa Anna wasn't exactly willing to step in and let the rebels shove him aside, as the Texans did.....
And speaking of Texas, controversy has been stirring recently back over in the U.S. whether or not the country should be considered for a possible future annexation.
In April 1839, a fledgling Ohioan lawyer and Mass. native by the name of Lysander Spooner, began to consider leaving for Texas to start anew, and to make the case for a free state status should it become the next U.S. State, and to possibly establish a settlement in the area[3]. He decided to start a fundraising effort to try to raise some money for the cause. At first, the response was a little slow, but Spooner was, fortunately for him, able to raise several thousand dollars for the expedition to Texas by the end of June, and he and about 50 other adventure seekers left for the Hill Country on July 11th. Arriving at a site just northwest of Austin in early August, Spooner settled down, and was one of the primary founders of the town of Liberty Creek the following February(and platted in April 1840). This attracted some attention as Spooner was the first Yankee to have been the founder of ANY community in Texas, though of course, not everyone in the Lone Star Nation was necessarily welcoming of this
Yankee once they knew who he was.....[4]
Forward to 1840, and U.S. President Martin Van Buren is still planning to run for a second term in office despite the number of challenges he's had to overcome during his first, and his popularity has remained a bit on the low side, but he is beginning to see hope: the situations in Texas and Mexico may provide him with another chance to prove himself worthy of the office of U.S. President. Even so, is Van Buren perhaps still doomed to fail, an to be replaced by his opponent, the famous general and Ohio senator, William Henry Harrison[5a]? Or can he salvage his reputation and squeeze in another term as the Big Man in the White House[5b]?
[1a]Subject to change, possibly.
[1b]And there's no end on the horizon, it seems. Or is there?...*wink*
[2]One of the strangest, and quite frankly, silliest, wars in history.
[3]And this is where the fun begins, ladies and gents.....
[4]That's putting it somewhat lightly....there were indeed a few Southerners who were actually radical enough to justify killing abolitionists just for not conforming to the whims of Southron high society(and many more who certainly didn't think all that highly of abolitionists even if they weren't to go as far as wishing them dead.)
[5a]As per OTL.
[5b]It'll be tough for ol' Kinderhook but he's not exactly one to roll over and play dead, either. In any case, 1840 is sure to be an interesting year.....=)
**
Some selected excerpts from “The Presidents: The Story of the Oval Office and The Men Who Occupied It, 2nd edition.”
Authored by Robert Jackson, 1999. © Liberty Tree Publishing, San Francisco, CA.
As the 1840 election season dawned, Martin Van Buren found himself in a somewhat unfortunate position; during his first term, the Crash of 1837 had taken many a business and utterly destroyed their financial viability; particularly hard hit, was the South and the Northeast, many big planters and bankers, respectively, felt the worst of the effects. Although the President himself had not been responsible for the crash(it can be argued with some validity that his predecessor Jackson was, though.), he was still blamed for not taking enough action to rescue the economy, so much so, in fact, that some derisively nicknamed him “Martin Van Ruin”[6]. The Democrats were already on shaky ground, and as the recession ploughed on, the Whigs started to look more and more appealing with every passing day.....
Nevertheless, however, they renominated Van Buren anyway; no-one else in his party wanted to run for for the White House. In fact, nobody could even agree on the Vice-Presidential position for the 1840 election: James K. Polk had been considered for the position at one point, but could not receive enough endorsements to get the nomination. So, as a result, President Van Buren became the first candidate to campaign without a running mate.
On the other hand, the Whig Party was riding the high tide of political discontent and a desire for change. Henry Clay, the highly popular and rather folksy Kentucky statesman, saw the writing on the wall and hoped that his time had finally arrived to get the ehance to sit in the Oval Office. However, though, he had, unfortunately, made a number of enemies over the years, and the Whigs weren't about to gamble with their chances of winning the White House. As a result, they decided to stick with a less controversial candidate: William Henry Harrison, the war hero, and former Ohio state senator. To get a regional balance, they sought out Virginian Senator John Tyler for the Vice-Presidential nomination, which Tyler accepted.
The 1840 election was heavily focused on image-making, and in fact, even more than substance, which was quite unique(though inevitable, as some may argue.). A pro-Democratic pundit once opined that Harrison would be just as content to sip on some hard cider in front of his log cabin as to serve as President. The Whigs, seeing an opprotunity, took this piece of satirical mocking and turned it to their advantage, starting the now famous “Log Cabin and Hard Cider!” Campaign, selling Harrison as a man of the people, and handing out many bottles of free cider at their rallies. In the same token, Van Buren was derided as an elitist with no sense of empathy for the common man and was said to indulge in fine wines and exotic foods. One politically-inclined poet had this to say:
“Let Van from his coolers of silver drink wine
And lounge on his cushioned settee,
Our man on a buckeye bench can recline,
Content with hard cider is he.”[7]
What may seem truly ironic to some, however, is that Van Buren had grown up in a working-class New York family and had climbed his way to the top of the Golden Hill[8], so to speak; Harrison, on the other hand, was a wealthy Virginian who himself had quite a few of the trappings and mannerisms of your average aristocrat.
In any case, this was already shaping up to be a rather tense election indeed; however, though, there was a wild card candidate who came on the scene that would make things all the more complicated: James G. Birney. Birney, a native of Kentucky and former planter, had come to reject slavery about a decade earlier and had built up a reputation as a devoted abolitionist, so much so that his life was threatened on several occasions, by pro-slavery agitators. But this didn't stop him from pursuing his interests, and in 1837, the American Anti-Slavery Society recruited him to their ranks and he moved to New York with his family. By the time the 1840 elections rolled around, he was considering a run for the Presidency....[9]
**
Albany, New York.
April 1, 1840.
James G. Birney was a man on a mission; ever since that fateful day in 1833, he had resolved to help bring about the end of slavery once and for all, and had become an abolitionist in the following year. Since then, he had had to endure intimidation, hatred, and even threats against his life. But Birney had struggled on, determined to never give in to his adversaries. And now, he had found the ultimate political calling: ascending to the White House, as President of the United States. It was here in this little town in Wyoming County that a new party was born.....the Liberty Party. “Truly a fitting name for our organization.”, he thought. And he hoped that it'd be here to stay. Now, though, it was time to get to work on his campaign, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.....
**
These excerpts are from “Liberty's Call: A Short History of the Liberty Party”, authored by John Porter.
© 1948 Whitmore Press, Salt Lake, Utah.
The Liberty Party, in its first incarnation[10], was the first dedicated anti-slavery party, and originally had its origins in the American abolitionist movement, particularly with the American Anti-Slavery Society.
The party first developed partly thanks to a split between supporters of the more radical William Lloyd Garrison, who eschewed major political action, and a more conservative faction led by Gerrit Smith, who believed that their aims could be best obtained by more orthodox means. The anti-Garrisonian faction was also headed by Arthur Tappan, William Jay[11], and Salmon P. Chase, an Ohioan who was known as a stalwart defender of abolitionism.
It was at one of the state conventions in Warsaw, N.Y., in which James G. Birney was chosen to be the Liberty Party's nominee for the Presidency; Francis J. LeMoyne, the Pennsylvania-born son of a French physician immigrant who had himself become a doctor, before his starting his abolition work, was to be Birney's Vice-President.
At the national convention in Albany, New York, on April 1, 1840, delegates from half a dozen states came to the determine the nominations; all 6 of them confirmed the Birney/LeMoyne ticket, officially adopted the party name, and made the slavery issue the key plank of their platform. Though confident he would make an impact, Birney realized that in order to be better heard, he might have to seek out a wealthy benefactor or two who would be willing to help fund the party's campaign[12]. So, in the month of June, he decided to seek the assistance of his old comrades, the Tappan brothers....
**
Letter from James G. Birney to Lewis Tappan, June 6th, 1840. Archived by the National Library, Washington, D.C.
Dear Mr. Tappan,
I write this letter to ask you a much needed favor.
As you may remember, last year I came to the conclusion that, in order to eliminate the terrible scourge of slavery from this great nation of ours, that we must begin to work to insert ourselves into the body politic, by any legal means necessary. I am pleased to report that the formation of a party was successful; we've called it the “Liberty Party”, due to our abolitionist aims, above all else. Interest in our party has been growing by the day since we have created it, and we expect that this will only continue. There is, however, a small problem: We have very little in the way of funding, and I am disappointed to report that Gerrit Smith's monetary contributions may not be enough to allow us a more noticeable voice. My own experience in the field of publishing will be helpful, but as we both understand, money is to campaigning what food is to a man: it shall perish for the lack of it. My personal aims for reaching the White House may be a Herculean task, but there is hope: there are a few persons running for office who have expressed interest in this new party of ours. One man that I know of in particular, William Jay, has great promise for a political career, if he chooses to accept the challenge to win the district in which he currently resides, in the Albany area.
Will you assist us in our aims? If we are indeed able to gain a presence in Washington, I do believe this may benefit us in the long run. And we will need every bit of good fortune that comes our way, for our adversaries are relentless and have many powerful people on their side, to do their bidding.[13]
Any assistance is appreciated, and thank you, in advance, for reading this letter.
Sincerely,
-James G. Birney, New York City, New York.
Response to James G. Birney from Lewis Tappan, June 27th, 1840.
Mr. Birney,
I have received your letter, and after some contemplation, I have made my decision.
It shall be a challenge to put this party into the halls of power, and I'm afraid that your hopes of ascending to the White House may not be feasible at this time. However, I also realize that there is indeed potential for this new Liberty Party of yours; there are many people, not just in this state, but in several others across the nation as well, that are open to abolitionist thought and morals. After all, did not the Founders intend for this to be a free nation?
Instead, tragically, we have seen the slavers defy the true meaning of the Constitution and to force the rest of us to play along in their dastardly games. This cannot stand forever, James, and any attempt to slow, or even halt, the advance of the Perfidious Institution is to be applauded. This may indeed prove to be a grand opportunity for us, and I hope that we may be able to save the soul of this nation yet.
I have also consulted with my brother, Arthur, and he has informed me that he, too, would be honored to assist you in the genesis of this project of ours.
May the Lord bless & guide you, James. Good men such as yourself and I shall be at the forefront of this greatest of moral battles yet to be faced in this nation, and it is my hope that slavery shall indeed one day pass away, nevermore to haunt the conscience of these United States. [14]
Yours in Christ,
Lewis Tappan.
James Birney's Final Response. July 1st, 1840.
Mr. Tappan, kind sir,
I thank you most sincerely for your generosity in this matter. Though our struggle may be great, and our rivals strong and powerful, together, acting as one, and with God's blessing, we can overcome even the greatest of enemies. I have contacted some like-minded fellows in other places across the nation, and they, too, have joined this moral mission of ours.....[snip]
May God be with you always.
-James G. Birney.[15]
**
[6]This was a real nickname for Van Buren.
[7]This poem was real, btw.
[8]An ATL idiom for achieving the pinnacle of success.
[9]Birney will play a significant role in the years to come.
[10]Major hint for what's in store for the future.
[11]Who may be running for Congress.
[12]Indeed, a wealthy benefactor might prove to be the salvation of any campaign....
[13]Sad but true.
[14]Tappan was a rather religious fellow, although a Unitarian.
[15]Birney & Tappan are going to become closer in friendship during the coming years.
**
This was taken from “The Land of Aztlan, Volume 2: Mexico in the 19th Century”, authored by Roberto Solano Lopez, 1975.
In 1842, Antonio de Santa Anna was facing an increasingly difficult dilemma; though he had been welcomed with open arms by many people in the country after Mexico's victory in the Pastry War of 1838, had unfortunately re-alienated many of the people in only a very short amount of time.
Elevated back into office in September, 1840, his second term, though not without its positive points, such as the revamping of Mexico's currency, and even the approval of plans to lay out the nation's first railroads, was unfortunately marred by several problems; firstly, Santa Anna's regime had gone straight back to engaging in repressive activities; the jailing of dissidents for even the slightest of offenses was a regular, almost everyday, occurrence. One man who was caught distributing anti-Santanista flyers in Veracruz in the summer of 1841 was, at one point, threatened with his life by the constabulary if he refused to cease his activities. Another man, whose wife later gave birth to one of Mexico's greatest generals of a later era, was carted off to prison for the mere “crime” of disagreeing with Santa Anna's Texas policies.
Political corruption and other abuses of power had become an issue as well: Santa Anna had imposed heavy taxes on many Mexicans, exacerbating the poverty situation in that country. All householders were strongly encouraged to pay “contributions” to the Treasury, duties were increased to as much as 20 percent, and the even the Church was forced to give out loans to the government, at the demand of Santa Anna himself; at the same time, the Mexican upper class was booming.[16]
The President also was responsible for Mexico's Second Constitution, which concentrated more power in his own hands, and those of loyal to him. Santa Anna filled many, many, positions with friends and other allies of his, and ordered a massive enlargement of the country's army. And he paid for it all with loans, both domestic and foreign. It is even said that he even sold phony shares to mining investors in Britain and the United States!
Santa Anna's second administration had also begun to take a turn for the strangely bizarre as well: He began to have statues bearing his likeness placed all over Mexico City, and many of the city's landmark buildings, including even the city's largest theater, were named after him. He even made his saint's day a national holiday and created new titles for himself! (Letters he wrote were often signed, "Santa Anna, Savior of the Fatherland. General of Division, Knight of the Great Cross of the Royal and Distinguished Spanish Order of Charles III, President of the Mexican Republic, Grand Master of the National and Distinguished Order of Guadelupe.")[17]
Despite his living in the lap of luxury, Santa Anna realized that he was still not invincible, so along with his private army, he also increased the size of the Presidential Guard to 1200 persons, rotating between shifts so as to give him 24-hour protection, 7 days a week. Even with this, however, Santa Anna was becoming increasingly concerned with rebellions, particularly the ones in Coahuila, and the Yucatan.....[18]
**
Taken from “Lone Star: A Short History of the Republic of Texas”, authored by Albert Carston.
1947, Lone Star University Press, Austin. All rights reserved.
The Republic of Texas in 1842, found itself in a bit of a dilemma; though it had successfully won independence from Mexico in April, 1836, the state was having to deal with Indian raids, the looming prospect of war with Santa Anna's regime, and a general concern for the state's welfare & future....[snip]
One of the worst Indian raids of the era occurred on August 7, 1840, in Victoria and Linnville, the latter now in Albertson County. “The Great Raid”, as it was called, occurred as a result of the Council House Fight, in which Texian officials had tried to imprison 33 Comanche chiefs who had intended to negotiate a peace treaty with the Republic; all of them, plus two dozen other Indians, would not survive the encounter. The Comanche war chief Buffalo Hump, orPotsana Kwahip[19] in his native language,sensing a dishonorable betrayal on the part of the Texians, decided that retaliation was in order for this act.
During the spring and early summer of 1840, Buffalo Hump informed several of his fellow Comanche band leaders that he was planning to go on a raid of some Texian settlements, to avenge the deaths of their comrades in the Council House. Along with his initial band, several more joined the party, and by the time Buffalo Hump was ready to move out[, he had at least 400 warriors under his command, and as many as 1,000 Comanches may have participated, in total[20]. On this raid, the Comanches went all the way from what is now far eastern New Mexico[21], to the Gulf Coast towns of Victoria and Linnville, the latter now in Albertson County. In what was later described by one survivor as a “savage plunder, worthy of the likes of the Khans of old Mongolia”[22], the Comanches raided and then sometimes burned down several towns in the area, and stole property of various persons at will.
[snip]
After having done some considerable damage in central Texas, the Comanches headed for the Gulf Coast. Although the Texian militias had realized the Comanches' intentions and tried to shadow the Indian raiders, part of the party broke off without warning and headed straight to the southeast.
There was very little warning for the residents of Victoria, sadly. On the afternoon of August 6th, the Comanches rode into town, whooping and hollering; it was the only clue that the Victorians had that something was amiss, and only when they arrived in town did it become truly apparent.
The Indians harmed no young children here[23], from what is known today, but about a dozen men and a couple of women who resisted them, were slaughtered. However, though, the Indians were forced to retreat after some surviving Texians fired back from various buildings across the town; about a dozen Indians, including one woman of the dozens who had accompanied them, had perished[24].
The Comanches reformed the war band, and eventually decided to head towards the southeast, to the town of Linnville, which was, at that time, one of the most important ports in the Republic of Texas. And on the morning of August 7th, they surrounded the town, and at around 10:40 a.m., attacked the settlement with full force.
Though only three Texians had been killed(a fourth man who was targeted, Hugh Oran Watts[25], had managed to escape with his life, after a fellow settler sacrificed himself so Watts could save some of his family's heirlooms), partly due to the fact that some Linnvillians fought back with rifle fire, there were still too many Comanches to deal with, and, overwhelmed, terrified residents fled to the coast, realizing that the Indians had no experience on the ocean and hoped that it would pay off. Led by one William G. Marshall, They boarded a schooner and watched helplessly as the Indians proceeded to trash and loot the town from within; all they could do at this point, was curse at the misfortune which had befallen them.
During the rest of that entire day, the Indians plundered, and sometimes burned afterwards, dozens of buildings in the town, dressing themselves in European-style clothes and top hats, amongst other things, and even tied some feather beds and cloth to their horses. During that time, one angry citizen, John Hays, the local judge, retrieved his pistol and waded ashore, yelling madly at the town's desolators as if possessed by demons of a sort. The Comanches, however spared him, thinking that he had indeed gone insane[26]. Upon wading ashore, however, he realized that he faced an entire war party of almost thousand Indians. Knowing that he was outnumbered, he decided to go back to the ship; Hays later found out that his weapon hadn't even been loaded, and even if it had been, it wouldn't have made much of a difference[27].
At the time that the Great Raid had occurred, it was reported that over $300,000 worth of goods, including a now unknown amount of silver bullion, had been stolen. John Linn, the town's founder, had noted that in addition to cloth and other goods that were most often stocked in the town's warehouse, that a few cases of hats and umbrellas, belonging to San Antonio merchant James Robinson, had gone missing. Linn, however, did soon find out just what had happened to these items, and his discovery was a bit amusing, to say the least. As he quipped about a decade afterwards during an interview with a Spooner newspaper, "These the Indians made free with, and went dashing about the blazing village, amid their screeching squaws and `little Injuns,' like demons in a drunken saturnalia, with Robinson's hats on their heads and his umbrellas bobbing about on every side like tipsy young balloons."(What a sight that must have been!)[28]
After the loading their loot, the raiders, some of them clothed in the stolen garments, finally decided to move on, late on the morning of August 8th, and were gone by the afternoon.
The Battle of Plum Creek.
For about a couple of weeks after they discovered the Comanches' war trails, the Texas Rangers had been tracking the Indian raiders throughout much of the middle and southeastern regions of the country, but had little luck keeping up with them consistently and were also rather outnumbered. However, though, the sacking of Linnville had ironically enough, provided some extra time for the Rangers to gather up some volunteers from the militias, and in some cases, even ordinary citizens, just wanting to play a role in the defense of their homeland. They came from Gonzales, Bastrop, and several others places from all over central and eastern Texas, backed up by additional reinforcements from more Ranger companies in those areas, and they began to prepare to intercept the Indians. Their efforts paid off: on August 12, 1840, they caught up with the Comanches not too far from Plum Creek, near today's Lockhart.
The Comanches had one major advantage over the Texians; they were excellent horsemen, and, admittedly, had the some of the absolute best cavalry in the entire New World, and perhaps among the best in the world, at this point in time; normally, they would ride away from the scene of a victory to avoid being overtaken by their adversaries, and usually, it worked quite well. On this day, however, they had been noticeably hampered by the pack mules that were carrying the loot they had stolen from Linnville, Victoria, and several other towns.
The Indians hadn't counted on being ambushed out of the blue, and were taken totally by surprise when the Rangers and the militias appeared out of nowhere and attacked them early that afternoon. What soon followed was a long running gun battle that lasted until about an hour or so after sundown. Finally realizing that their loot was holding them back, the Comanches left most of it behind, and, ironically, the Texians' greediness might have proved beneficial to the Indians; they decided to let the Comanches run home, divided the loot amongst themselves, and began to return home.[29]
All in all, the Texians claimed that over 80 Comanches had died, but no more than 2 dozen bodies were ever recovered; whatever the truth may be, it's almost certain that Buffalo Hump's war party probably did suffer losses that were much higher than normal. The Texians, in contrast, lost only half that number.
**
Somewhere in Texas
Aug. 17, 1840
Buffalo Hump was a content man, at this moment.
Earlier that month, he had successfully pulled off one of the greatest raids against white settlement known to this day, and had the Texians running scared, like a deer trying to escape the hungry clutches of a pack of coyotes, and it seemed that he was finally getting his wishes for revenge fulfilled. However, though, one thing began to trouble him: What if the Texians were to stop being afraid of the Comanches and started to push back? And what if, perhaps they succeeded at driving them out of Texas, or even the whole region, period? There were many white men in the country who had no care for Indians and some who truly desired them to be forced out of what they saw as their rightful land, by any means necessary.
But he was also able to wean his mind off such pessimism, by reminding himself that the Comanches were still a force to be reckoned with in this part of the world, and they could always call upon their allies in the region should the need ever arise to do so. The white man might have had money, guns, and cannons, but, in his mind, they couldn't beat the Natives' knowledge of the land, or their spirits.....[30]
**
[16]And you thought it was bad in OTL America under Dubya Bush.....
[17]Yep, these were real titles, by the way. Santa Anna took the train to Crazy Town on this one.
[18]Not to mention Texas, whose secession he considered the biggest betrayal yet.
[19]Look it up on Wikipedia if you want a few laughs(warning: it gets a bit raunchy. Not recommended for anyone under 21.....and definitely not safe for younger teens.). Let's just say that this guy might have had some really good....assets, ya know?
[20]Not counting women and children who came with them.
[21]A nice little hint as to where I'm going in future installments.
[22]Yes, this is an original quote, by the way. I made it up all myself.
[23]Dunno about OTL, but I'd hope it was true here, too.
[24]Apparently, some of their womenfolk were pretty damn good fighters.
[25]This particular person actually died IOTL.
[26]This actually happened, by the way. For real.
[27]Of course, going Rambo probably would have been more satisfying for the moment, but I guess he just didn't have the balls to do it(balls.....get it?).
[28]Actual quote, by the way.
[29]The moral of the story here is, basically, it's better to live with little to nothing gained, than die filthy stinking rich with all the booty you could possibly want.....smart call, IMO.
[30]Well, or so he hopes.
***
***
From the pages of the Trans-Texas Historical Society, Issue 16. Jan. 7, 1947,“Spotlight on Old Texas” Series. Authored by John E. Halsey, used with permission.[31]
The Republic of Texas, is surely one of history's more interesting footnotes; it only existed for a short time, and didn't even survive its first decade. But it has left its mark on history: the Republic of Texas was home to, and even produced, many a great man(and woman), during its brief, yet eventful, existence, some more obscure and some famous, and it is my privilege to bring to you the first installment of our “Spotlight on Old Texas” series.
This month's issue will be focusing on a man who helped birth the Republic of Texas, yet became one of its most dogged adversaries for a time, before reacquainting himself with his homeland after a long absence. He was a man of great integrity, who also became a skilled pragmatist later in his life, and remained loyal to his roots until the end of his days[32]. His name was Juan Seguin.
Juan Nepomuceno Seguin was born in what is now San Antonio in 1806, to Juan Erasmo Seguin and Josephina Becerra, both natives of Texas; Interestingly, it is generally believed that Seguin's great-great-grandfather, Guillermo, was of French extraction originally, having moved to Mexico for reasons still unknown to us today[33], and married a local Hispanic woman. Erasmo was born in S.A. himself
in 1782.
Not much is known about Juan N's earliest years at this point, but we do know, however, that Juan N.'s father was a postmaster and Juan N. often assisted his parents in running the business, particularly while his father was off assisting the drafting of Mexico's First Constitution in 1824. In 1825, he married Maria Gertrudis Flores de Abrego in San Antonio; they later had as many as 10 children. Juan N.'s interest in politics went back to his teenage years and he became a strong believer in democratic ideals. His political career started in 1828 when he was elected to the alderman's office in San Antonio, and served on a number of electoral boards, before being elected to the office of alcalde(Spanish for mayor)in 1833, after the previous one retired due to illness, but only lasted for a few months before retiring.
Seguin had not been content with the rule of Antonio de Santa Anna and in fact, had been highly critical of the many of the man's policies. In fact, by 1834, he became so dissatisfied with Santa Anna's increasingly reactionary administration, that he began to plan open revolt. During his short stint as governor of Texas, he made connections with people who'd later prove to be valuable allies in the fight for freedom.[34]
In October, Seguin came upon an idea to distribute his ideas on a wider scale. He decided to issue a circular letter to every single municipality in Texas urging them to appoint some delegates for a convention to meet with him in San Antonio on the 13th, for the purpose of taking into some consideration the dangers they were facing and for devising ways to combat them. And it was at this meeting, where Seguin first made the call for a Texian Constitutional Convention, to meet on November 15th. However, though, due to some time constraints, and the fact that Stephen F. Austin had been in Mexico proper at the time, many Texans especially those concerned about retaliation from Santa Anna's regime against them and Seguin, failed to respond, and so only a few showed up. Colonel Jose Mendoza was later ordered to march his troops to San Antonio from Matamoros to San Antonio and detain the delegates who had made it. Juan Seguin, for his part, was reprimanded for his actions. Partly because of this, Seguin announced his retirement in February of the following year, turning it over to Ramon Muzquiz on March 1st.
Juan Seguin hadn't been much of a military man before the days of the revolt, but this began to change in April, 1835, when he was chosen to head up the State Guard. His first real action occurred not long afterwards when he was sent to the state of Coahuila to protect the liberal government there from being besieged by General Martin Perfecto de Cos, accompanied by Benjamin Milam and John K. Allen, who reportedly did an excellent job assisting Seguin in routing the Santanista forces.
Stephen F. Austin, the famous pioneer, was elected leader of the Republic of Texas during that September, and he had been so impressed by Seguin's actions during the Coahuila campaign that he appointed Seguin captain in the brand-new Texian Army. As it turned out, Seguin would soon be putting his abilities to the test....
The town of Gonzales was in some turmoil in late September: earlier that month, on the 10th, a Mexican soldier had beaten a Gonzales resident, for reasons still unclear today, and this led to much outrage and public protesting. Mexican authorities were conccrned about the possibility of escalating violence so they decided it might be unwise to leave them with any weapons; as it turned out, Gonzales was home to a six-pounder cannon which had been given to the town just 4 years earlier to ward off the occasional Indian raid. Colonel Domingo de Ugartechea had been ordered to retrieve the cannon and sent 6 of his men, a corporal and several regular soldiers, to issue the ultimatum from Ugartechea demanding that the cannon be turned over to him. However, though, many of the town's residents suspected a set-up and the soldiers were sent back to the camp, sans the cannon. In fact, the Texians were so determined to keep the cannon that it became a rallying symbol that they could all stand behind, and soon after, the now famous “Come and Take It!” flag was devised.
Alcalde Andrew Ponton, concerned that Ugartechea would send more troops, sent a messenger to the tiny hamlet of Mina(now Bastrop, a town of 25,000)[35], to ask for assistance. Word spread quickly, and when Stephen F. Austin caught word of this, he immediately sent messengers to surrounding communities, informing them of the 300-man force soon to besiege Gonzales, though cautioning them to remain as defensive as possible; any unprovoked attacks on Mexican forces, he reasoned, might hamper potential support from the U.S., if a wider war was to begin.
On September 27th, Francisco de Castaneda left San Antonio for Gonzales, with a second order demanding that Ponton and his men surrender the cannon, and had been instructed not to use force unless it was necessary. But when they arrived in Gonzales 2 days later, Albert Martin, the captain of the town militia, informed them that Ponton had left, and requested that they remain on the west bank of the local river. They couldn't cross it, so they camped on some high ground instead. The next day, Castaneda again asked about the cannon and was then rebuffed, this time by a spokesman, which was interpreted as a stalling tactic.
Ugartechea asked a Gonzales resident, Dr. Launcelot Smither, who had been in San Antonio on business, to try to assist Castaneda in convincing the settlers that the soldiers meant no harm if the cannon was given up peacefully. He met with militia captain Mathew Caldwell the following morning and Caldwell asked him to bring Castaneda around town. At the same moment, however, fellow captain John Moore had called a war council, and they had voted to initiate combat with the Mexicans; whether or not they knew about Caldwell's deal, isn't known to this day.
In any case, the cannon, which had been buried by three of the Texians, was unearthed and mounted on cart wheels, and James C. Neill, a War of 1812 veteran, put in charge of it, along with Almaron Dickinson, to form the first Texian artillery company[36], all the while blessed by local minister W.P. Smith.
And as the Texians plotted their attack, Castaneda was warned by a Coushatta Indian that about 140 men were gathered in Gonzales, and more were joining the ranks. Sensing danger ,Castaneda ordered his men to search for a place to cross the river. By nightfall on October 1st, they were about 7 miles away from their previous spot.
The battle proved to be inconssequential in terms of casualties: Only 2 Mexicans had died and only one Texan injured; the man had only been bucked off his horse. Though it's now regarded as a one-sided battle, Gonzales is regarded as perhaps the turning point for the Texian Revolution, particularly because of its political significance.
Juan Seguin spent the next couple of months advancing the Revolution, bit by bit,
Perhaps the most important battle of 1835, however, was the two-month long Siege of Bexar. General Cos had been sent by Santa Anna to occupy[37] San Antonio, and arrived on October 9th.. The Texians, soon after hearing of General Cos's invasion, had prepared to fight back; they had already liberated Goliad from Mexican control so Martin de Cos had no effective way to communicate with the coastal areas. Cos, fearing the Texians were about to take San Antonio back, started to fortify the city instead of going on the offensive.
Stephen F. Austin, with support from Seguin and others, was unanimously confirmed as commander-in-chief of the Texian forces on the 11th, and ordered the men to start marching at 9 am the next morning. But before then, they were to practice their tactics; Austin also told his men not to fire indiscriminately, and to keep their weapons in good shape at all times. Elections for other positions had also been held: John Moore became Colonel; Edward Burleson(for whom both Burleson County, and the town of Burleson in Johnson County were named[38]), a former Missouri militia commander, was chosen to be the Lt. Colonel, and Alexander Somervell[39], a Brazoria merchant was elected Major.
On Oct. 12, the Texians had about 300 men, primarily from Austin's colonies and the DeWitt area, with more expected from Nacogdoches. Leaving at 9 am, as ordered, the Texians began to make the slow advance towards San Antonio, stopping at the Guadalupe River. The next day, the men from Nacogdoches joined them, and they began the next leg of the journey.
The remainder of their trek[40] was rather uneventful, with the exception of gathering a few more volunteers and Ben Milam's brief skirmish with a Mexican patrol on the 15th, but when they reached Cibolo Creek, that ended. Austin requested a meeting with General Cos, but he refused to do so, claiming that Austin's men were an “illegal” force. As the situation grew more tense, the Mexicans continued to build up their garrison, going as high as 751 men at one point[41].
Seguin himself had arrived on the 22nd, with 37 Tejanos willing to fight for him and the cause; this had the added benefit of helping to in the words of one historian, “blur the essence of ethnicity”, providing some evidence that the Texian cause wasn't just a overreaction by a few Southern American immigrants. On that same day, Austin names James Bowie and James Fannin co-commanders of the 1st Battalion, who were to be sent on a recon mission; they had been able to seize a local mission, the Espada, by the end of the day.
On the 27th, the Texians were able to seize the Mission Concepcion, and used it as a temporary campsite, despite their army being split up. They did not, however, anticipate being attacked, but on the early morning hours of the 28th, this is exactly what occurred.
The Battle of Concepcion only lasted about 30 minutes or so, making it one of the shortest battles in history; the Mexicans then treated back towards Bexar after having their tails soundly kicked by the Texians, but not before Richard Andrews, a soldier known for his size, was the sole fatality; he was later immortalized in Texan folklore and the town of Andrews in Henderson County, was named for him, as was Andrews County(about 100 miles west of Fort Worth)[42].
From there, the siege continued for another several weeks, but by mid-December, the city of San Antonio was secured, with only 35 losses, though this included Ben Milam, who died on the 7th, while overlooking the Church of San Fernando; it is said that he fell into the arms of Samuel Maverick as he passed on.
Because of his continued successes, Seguin was once again made a captain, when the Texas Army became an official outfit in January, 1836, by none other than Stephen F. Austin himself. And his resolve would once again be tested, just a month later.
The Battle of the Alamo was one of the most critical events in the history of the Revolution and Juan Seguin played a notable part[43].
In the weeks prior to the attack, Texian army commander Sam Houston, found himself in a bad spot; the Alamo, though not sparsely occupied, initially did not have a strong enough defense to ward off any potential Mexican invaders, and James Bowie and James Neill both informed the then sitting governor, Henry Smith, that they would rather die in the ditches than allow Santa Anna's men to retake the area; William Travis arrived with 30 men on February 3rd; not quite an army of its own but the defenders were glad to take any help they could get.
And luckily enough, they had some extra time to prepare; Santa Anna's army had had both supply and insubordination issues; many of the new recruits didn't know how to use their weaponry properly and some of them wouldn't even use their weapons at all, for fear of injury from the recoil; there was also the issue of some of the teamsters quitting when their salary had been delayed. The accompanying soldaderas had also hampered the trek northwards; their on-going consumption of already somewhat scarce food supplies, led to soldiers receiving only partial rations. To add onto all this, the region had experienced a cold wave the likes of which was not to be quite seen for another 150 years; as much as 16 inches of snow had fallen as well, making the journey to San Antonio even more dreadfully challenging[44]. But regardless of all they had gone through, they were able to reach the Medina River, 25 miles from San Antonio by the 21st, and despite heavy rains, they had reached the city proper by the 23rd.
And unfortunately, even with the extra time, the Texians were still unprepared; only at the last minute did they make any arrangements, by scrounging for food in abandoned homes, and finding places to store their cattle. And by the end of the afternoon, the city was occupied by 1,500 Mexican troops. Things almost came to a head when Travis fired the fort's largest cannon at them after they raised the red flag, signifying “no quarter”; as in, no mercy for the enemy. James Bowie sent Green B. Jameson as an emissary to Santa Anna, and in response, Travis sent Albert Martin as his own emissary. Though both Texians indicated they were willing to surrender honorably, but were told that any surrender was unconditional. In the words of Jose Bartres:
“I reply to you, according to the order of His Excellency, that the Mexican army cannot come to terms under any conditions with rebellious foreigners to whom there is no recourse left, if they wish to save their lives, than to place themselves immediately at the disposal of the Supreme Government from whom alone they may expect clemency after some considerations.”[45a]
Upon hearing of the Mexican response, Travis and Bowie mutually agreed to fire the cannon once again. Tensions grew and grew and finally reached a breaking point on the chilly evening of February 26th, when soldiers under Colonel Juan Bringas killed a Texian who was burning some huts. Four days later, a Texian shot and killed Pvt. Secundino Alvarez.
The siege had begun in earnest on March 5th , and Seguin, due to the fact he spoke Spanish as his native language, and that he was quite familiar with the terrain, was the perfect courier for the Texians. However, though, during one trip to get more reinforcements to assist his fellows, he discovered, to his dismay, that the Alamo had just fallen to Santa Anna's men, not knowing of the fates of his allies in arms for some time. However, though, it has been said that Santa Anna became furious upon learning of Seguin's fortunate survival, yelling "Where is Seguin, I want Seguin!".[45b]
After this, he then decided to turn back to Gonzales and he ended up meeting up with Sam Houston to participate in the Runaway Scrape; this was essentially a series of guerrilla brushes between the Texians and the Mexican army that lasted for several weeks. The most notable events appear to have been the Coleto Creek and Refugio battles.
James Fannin sent a couple of his men, Capt. Amon B. King and Lt. Colonel William Ward, to evacuate a few families in Refugio to safety so they wouldn't risk being harmed should the Texians come across General Jose de Arrea's army. Unfortunately for King, he found himself surrounded by the Mexicans and asked Fannin to get Ward and the Georgia Battalion to assist him. Urrea, meanwhile, had been warned of their presence and marched 300 more troops to the town in an attempt to overtake the Texians. During the day on March 14th, the Texians found themselves desperately holding out against a determined Urrea and his men; Ward's men had stuck themselves inside the Mission in town, while King's company was largely situated in a stand of trees(where the Refugio Headstone now stands). Both sides suffered heavy casualties and ended with a Mexican victory; Ward had been able to retreat into the night, but King's men were stranded; following his own failed attempt to flee, King and all but one of his men were executed(the Texian who survived, Lewis Ayers, later became a four-term Congressman). Ward, unfortunately, was himself cornered not long afterwards; though they put up a valiant fight, they ended up being surrounded at Lavaca Bay and were forced to surrender themselves, though, at least they were allowed to live, for a time.
Meanwhile, James Fannin had his own problems to deal with; he had to retreat from Goliad when he caught word that Urrea's army was targeting him next. Already weighted down with 500 guns and an extra cannon, Fannin decided to burn off the excess load, in order to make things a little easier on his men. But unfortunately, it was too late; just as Fannin's men were only a mile away from Coleto Creek, the Mexicans ambushed them, and a fierce battle soon unfolded. Despite being unable to penetrate the Texians' position and possibly losing as many as 20 times more men, the Mexicans were able to win the battle, even if only due to the surrender by Col. Fannin; he had been unwilling to leave the wounded behind and was fast running out of water.
Col. Urrea was loyal to Santa Anna, but, surprisingly, he felt that execution was unnecessary, and requested that the government spare them. That request was denied, however and Fannin and his surviving men to be kept in Goliad; William Ward and his company would soon join them. On Saturday, March 26th, the Texians were taken to Fort Defiance and held there; the following day, 342 of the Texians were marched out of the fort and shot point-blank, knifed, or clubbed to death; Ward & Fannin amongst them.
However, though, some either escaped, or were spared; German immigrant, Herman von Ehrenberg, later a California land speculator and Congressman from Pflugerville; and John Duval, later a Senator and novelist, were amongst the more notable survivors.[46]
Despite the Mexican government's unbeaten winning streak since the Battle of the Alamo, that all began to change in April. Santa Anna had originally planned to pursue Sam Houston's using a three-pronged assault plan. However, though, he decided to change his mind after he was informed that the Texian government had just left the Morgan's Point area. Santa Anna personally led a company of about 900 men to try to capture them, but was unsuccessful. However, though, upon receiving intelligence on the whereabouts of Houston's army, Santa Anna then ordered his men to instead head for Lynch's Ferry. And surely enough, both Houston and Seguin were camped there.
On the morning of April 21, Santa Anna received a last minute 500-man reinforcement from Martin Perfecto de Cos, giving him a total of 1,400 men under his command. Cos was placed on his right flank, his cavalrymen on the left, and everything else, including artillery, in the center; and then he sat and waited.
That same day, Sam Houston held an impromptu war council that lasted for about two hours; it is generally accepted that although a majority of his officers originally requested to wait for Santa Anna's first move, Houston himself argued that it was better, in his view, to surprise the Mexicans, over concerns that Santa Anna might be able to gather his currently somewhat scattered army. The council relented, and preparations began. It was a bit of a risky move: Most of the assault would come out over open ground, where the Texians might be particularly vulnerable to Mexican gunfire; adding to the gamble, was Houston's plan of trying to outflank the Mexicans with his own cavalry. However, though, whether or not they knew it at that time, they had a significant advantage; Santa Anna had decided not to post any sentries or skirmishers around his camp; this mistake would later prove to be a very crucial one, indeed.[47]
By 3:30, Houston had formed the desired battle lines behind some trees, and about an hour later, Erastus “Deaf” Smith, announced the destruction of Vince's Bridge; now, neither army could get reinforcements unless they wanted to cross 10-foot-deep water. The Texians then moved quickly and efficiently across the plain, and when they finally came across the Mexican encampment, cries of “Remember Goliad!” and “Remember the Alamo!” could be heard, led by Manuel Flores, Seguin's brother-in-law. During the charge, the Texians fired and fell to the ground, expecting to be cut down by Mexican gunfire, but Flores encouraged them to get back up and yelled “Santa Anna's men are running!”; Thomas Rusk, the Secretary of War, who'd gotten involved early on in the game, shouted, “Don't stop, give 'em hell!” boosting their morale. Regardless, Santa Anna's army began to fall apart, anyway; hundreds of soldiers fled in all directions, trying to get away from the Texians.
The battle proved to be one-sided: only 9 Texians had died, all within the first 15 minutes; the Mexicans, on the other hand, had lost at least 630(some say 700 or more!) of their men.
Santa Anna, though he had initially escaped, couldn't evade his enemies for long, and was eventually captured, and outed by his fellows; Sam Houston, however, decided to spare Santa Anna, instead of having him executed, as what had happened to many Texians.[48a]
A badly humiliated[48b] Santa Anna was forced to sign the Treaties of Velasco, which forced Mexico to withdraw all troops from any territory claimed by Texas, and in exchange for safe passage back to Mexico, was to accept the existence of the new Republic. However, though, Santa Anna was first imprisoned for six months, and, as he feared, was disowned by the Mexican government. After meeting with then-President Andrew Jackson, he returned to Texas and then went back home in early 1837. The Republic of Texas was recognized by the U.S., France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and eventually, the Yucatan Republic.
After Texas won it's independence from Mexico, Juan Seguin was regarded as a war hero; “The Paul Revere of Texas” was the nickname many had for him, particularly due to his actions during and after the loss at the Alamo. He was elected Senator in 1837, and served [snip]
...Although Juan Seguin continued to be regarded as a hero for years afterwards, including a battle with the Comanches alongside Henry Karnes in 1839, Seguin found himself becoming concerned with the direction that Texan politics seemed to be taking; the Republic was being filled to the brim with many North American immigrants, most of whom were unfamiliar with the native Tejanos' or the earlier settlers' history and their loyalty to the country in which they resided. Tensions began to grow between the two parties and Seguin began to have difficulty moderating between the two.
In the spring of 1840, he gave up his Senate seat to help Mexican Federalist Antonio Canales in an abortive campaign against his Centralist rivals, and to support the Republic of the Rio Grande. Canales ultimately failed, however, and Seguin found himself back in Texas in November.
Unfortunately, Seguin had resorted to land speculation and property mortgaging, as well as even some smuggling, to finance his Rio Grande adventure, and had become the object of enmity in the eyes of some; most Anglo Texans, or at least, those who had opinions of any sort, were at least somewhat uncomfortable with wealthy Latino Tejanos, especially those with some political influence like Seguin.
The unfortunate failure of the Santa Fe expedition in 1841 hadn't helped matters one bit; Seguin was almost immediately the target of rumors against him, claiming that he had somehow compromised the mission.
But even despite this, Seguin still managed to win re-election to the mayor's office at the end of 1841, mainly as a token of appreciation for assisting Canales......though this was to be short lived. Life didn't get any easier for him as more Anglos were hostile towards Seguin than before. One of the biggest problems Seguin had to deal with was squatters claiming property that they had no right to take hold of; and, unfortunately, they weren't just squatters, but Anglo squatters. And this complicated things because Seguin had come to understand first hand, that many Anglos didn't like taking orders from wealthy Mexicans(or in a good number of cases, Mexicans at all). Perhaps the biggest nuisance was James Goodman, a man who shoe'd horses for a living; Goodman felt that he was owed compensation for his work and desired to buy a house that was still government property. Seguin, not one to flout the law, had Goodman removed, making him yet another enemy. Tensions began to get bad that winter and Seguin often found himself having to render aid to Tejanos who were suffering persecution at the hands of many of the rowdier Anglos in town; some of it totally unprovoked, and much of it racially motivated.[49]
Seguin had made an honest effort to pay back the money he had lost in his recent adventures, but unfortunately, his problems were soon to start all over again. The revival of some of the rumors of financial improprieties and renewed accusations that he had given the Mexican government advance information about the Santa Fe expedition were starting to take a toll on him.
Things finally came to a head for Seguin when Santa Anna decided to invade Texas in March, 1842. San Antonio was overrun twice by Rafael Vasquez's men; though the first attempt at sacking the city saw Vasquez driven out, Seguin was unable to stop them the second time, and in a stunning turn of events, Vasquez attempted to turn the Anglo Texians against him by claiming that he was still yet a loyal subject of Santa Anna's, his mayorship of San Antonio notwithstanding. Unfortunately for Seguin, Vasquez's plan worked. Following the threats on his life, he left San Antonio in April, along with most of his remaining supporters, including his sister-in-law and a few others; they went to Gonzales, and Seguin himself decided to go southwards to Mexico. Unfortunately for him, he was arrested soon after his arrival and forced to make a choice: Either spend the next several years in a Mexican jail or join the army. And because he feared that a prison term might leave his family in Gonzales with no-one to provide for them, he ultimately relented and decided to serve in Santa Anna's army, and fight with conviction....[snip]
"...I was a victim of the cowardice and wickedness of a few men... a foreigner in my native land; could I be expected to stoically endure their outrages and insults? I sought for shelter amongst those against whom I fought; I had become divorced from my country, and separated from parents, family, relatives and friends, and what was more, from the institutions, on behalf which I had fought valiantly and honorably, with an earnest wish to see Texas free and happy."[50] - Juan N. Seguin, in his memoirs, July, 1857.
***
[31]A reference to another TL of mine I've been bouncing around. It doesn't have a concrete name yet, but you may have seen his name on the “Alternate Presidents” thread.....
[32]Indeed, Seguin will play a major role in the history of the region later on even more than IOTL.
[33]And indeed, not known to us IOTL.
[34]Especially Sam Houston. This will prove to be crucial later on.
[35]At about this time IOTL(late 1940's-early '50s), Bastrop was a tiny town of maybe 2,500 denizens.....about a tenth of TTL's Bastrop.
[36]Dickinson, sadly, died in the battle of the Alamo. Launcelot Smither survived, and, ITTL, had one last son with his wife, named Arthur in 1842(insert Knights of the Round Table joke here, if you'd like).
[37]Not to be confused with OTL's Occupy San Antonio.....
[38]There actually IS a real Burleson, btw: It's just south of Fort Worth.
[39]Somervell, too, had an entire county named after him.
[40]Evoking the Boers, I'd say.
[41]Although many of these were latet wiped out by the fantastic failure at San Jacinto.
[42]It's Shackelford County IOTL.
[43]Sadly, even this couldn't save him from the later ridicule and intimidation by the more prejudiced sections of Anglo Society.
[44]IOTL, even the cold snap of 1899 didn't quite bring that much snow to the region. Even more impressive is that both events occurred in the middle of February, close to the end of winter(and in South Texas it might as well be spring in an average year1).
[45a]Which, of course, they never got any such thing as “clemency” from the likes of Santa Anna.
[45b]Yes, Santa Anna really did say this, according to the Seguin family website.
[46]Ehrenberg had a town in Ariz. Named after him, IOTL. The same general thing happens later on ITTL but it's not in *Arizona....
[47]And what if he had? It's a question that many historians, from that part of the U.S., and a few alternative history writers would ask for many decades to come.
[48a]Houston, despite whatever faults he may have had, was, at least, honorable. This would serve him well later in his life.
[48b]Santa Anna, however, would never forgive what he saw as the greatest betrayal of the Mexican Republic, and would in due time, exact his revenge.....
[49]You gotta wonder what would have happened if a Rodney King type incident had occurred here. Can you say, San Antonio '42, anyone?
[50]This is a slightly modified version of an OTL quote from Senor Seguin, with apologies and thanks to the folks at Texas A & M.
***
This is an excerpt from “Lipinsky's Election Encyclopedia, 12th Edition: 1804-1996”. Authored by Norman Lipinsky, Jr. © 1997, Lipinsky Bros. Publishing, Naperville. Ill.
The Election of 1840
The 1840 election would be looked back on as one of the most controversial ones in the entire history of the United States, perhaps on par even with 1824's fiasco.[51]
Martin Van Buren, though not exactly universally unpopular, had had to deal with more than his fair share of criticism, particularly over his handling of the Panic of 1837, and to some voters, the Whigs were looking more and more palatable every day. But despite Van Buren's lack of enthusiastic support, however, the Democrats had little choice but to re-nominate him for the Presidency; nobody else in the party was willing to volunteer for the candidacy at the time. And then there was the brand-new anti-slavery Liberty Party, which had some promising potential as a wild card that might be able to help swing the election either way.....
There were 2 other contenders for the Presidency in 1840:
William Henry Harrison, hero of the War of 1812, and the first governor of the Indiana Territory, was riding on the tide of discontentment which had swollen up from the failed policies of the Jackson administration, and due to his increasing popularity, as well as his promising stances on fixing the economy and dealing with Mexico, and not to mention the distrust of his chief rival Henry Clay by many in the Whig Party hierarchy, won the nomination for the Whig Party's candidacy and set out to prove his worth to the American people, and several famous slogans, such as “Tippecanoe and Tyler, too”, were born out of their campaign.
James G.[Gillespie] Birney, of the aforementioned Liberty Party, had had a rather interesting background: he was born in Kentucky in 1792 to an Irish immigrant, who became an affluent planter in Mercer County, and had lost his mother at a young age, to be raised by an aunt who'd come over from Scotland. Birney was close to his father but had become anti-slavery from a young age, including from a Baptist minister named David Barrow, whom Birney regarded as a major influence amongst those outside his family. He also became good friends with future Vice-President George M. Dallas, and in 1815, while working as a lawyer, worked for Henry Clay when he was running for Congress, and he was then a Democratic-Republican. As his interest in politics deepened, so did his questioning of the Peculiar Institution. He later became mayor of Huntsville, Alabama, and also became a major supporter of the American Colonization Society. However, though, Birney became increasingly troubled about the thought of his children coming of age in a slave state and moved back to Danville, in 1832.
Birney's final turn towards abolitionism occurred in 1834 after correspondence with Theodore Weld, a preacher who organized the Lane Seminary debates. After a series of unfortunate events while living in Cincinnati, he decided to uproot his family and move to New York after joining the American Anti-Slavery Society. And during the spring of 1840, the Liberty Party came into existence in New York. Though Birney predicted that he wouldn't win, he sought to make an impact, anyway; armed with the money of the Tappan brothers, his expertise in the printing business, and a newly-former grassroots campaign, the infant Liberty Party bravely trotted forward and 1840 was to be the first of its many campaigns.....
***
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
1840 was, without a doubt, one of the toughest election seasons in U.S. History. Martin Van Buren, though not exactly popular by this point, was a man who had begun to reshape his image and rethink many of his past policies. His opponent, William Henry Harrison, was riding a tide of discontentment that had occurred in the wake of the disastrous crash of 1837, and had begun to take a proto-populist approach[51], making Van Buren's job even tougher....
During the first half of the election season, Van Buren's campaign struggled to make ends meet, while William Harrison's fortunes continued in a favorable direction, and for a while, it was thought by some that he'd be a shoo-in for the Presidency. However, though, the Harrison campaign would eventually run into a few problems later on, and problems, that Van Buren would capitalize on, in nearly every case.
John Tyler, in particular, though stately in mannerisms and appearance, would later become the centerpiece of gossip for many people, especially in the North, through a series of unfortunate events, including some which may have seriously jeopardized the Harrison campaign, by themselves.
The first of what was to be several scandals, occurred in June of 1840, when it was revealed that Tyler, following the death of his first wife, Letitia Christian, on December 27th of the previous year, married Julia Gardiner, a woman many years his junior and a friend of his son Robert's wife, Priscilla, in late April, only 4 months after Letitia's passing. It did cause some chiding to be directed towards President Tyler, though this controversy was rather minor compared to others that would follow over the next few months.....
***
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
1840 was, without a doubt, one of the toughest election seasons in U.S. History. Martin Van Buren, though not exactly popular by this point, was a man who had begun to reshape his image and rethink many of his past policies. His opponent, William Henry Harrison, was riding a tide of discontentment that had occurred in the wake of the disastrous crash of 1837, and had begun to take a proto-populist approach[51], making Van Buren's job even tougher....
During the first half of the election season, Van Buren's campaign struggled to make ends meet, while William Harrison's fortunes continued in a favorable direction, and for a while, it was thought by some that he'd be a shoo-in for the Presidency. However, though, the Harrison campaign would eventually run into a few problems later on, and problems, that Van Buren would capitalize on, in nearly every case[52].
John Tyler, in particular, though stately in mannerisms and appearance, would later become the centerpiece of gossip for many people, especially in the North, through a series of unfortunate events, including some which may have seriously jeopardized the Harrison campaign, by themselves.
The first of what was to be several scandals, occurred in June of 1840, when it was revealed that Tyler, following the death of his first wife, Letitia Christian, on December 27th of the previous year, married Julia Gardiner, a woman many years his junior[53] and a friend of his son Robert's wife, Priscilla, in late April, only 4 months after Letitia's passing. It did cause some chiding to be directed towards President Tyler, though this controversy was rather minor compared to others that would follow over the next few months.
In late July, it was discovered that Tyler had personally paid several newspapers to run fake “editorials” supposedly “revealing” things about James G. Birney that were purely intended to slander the man after the two came across each other during their respective rallies in Cincinnati, Ohio, in early June, over an argument about slavery. An embarrassed Harrison tried to cover up the scandal and he himself bribed several of the country's biggest newspapers to keep them quiet, though one paper in Philadelphia still ran with it anyway, even with the bribe.
Things didn't really begin to unravel until towards the end of the summer for the Harrison campaign, but when they did, it eventually became a non-stop domino train of gaffes and blunders of all sorts.
Tragically, the cascade may have started when John Tyler learned that his eldest daughter Mary's husband, Henry Lightfoot Jones, had died of yellow fever in mid-August, and Mary, who had just given birth to twins, Robert Tyler, and Letitia Marie, that June, was herself getting rather ill[53]. The children had been moved into the care of her brother Robert, by request of Mary herself.
John Tyler had taken a bit of a liking to Henry Jones and was a bit hard-hit by his death, not to mention the prospect of losing his daughter as well. At a Whig Party meeting, in Richmond on August 21st, before he was to speak, he ended up partaking of a little too much drink in the parlor room. His speech, a rather short one, went fine, but when the questions started to be asked, some of his responses were a bit interesting[54], to say the least....
*
Quotes by John Tyler, Aug. 21st, 1840.
“Planters are people, too, my friend.”-In response to a question, and following remark, made by an anti-slavery fellow Whig.[54a]
“I'm not troubled by the concerns of the poor. Let the good Lord take care of 'em.”-Tyler's response to a question of what to do with the poorest Americans, particularly those families hardest hit by the Panic of '37. [54b]
“Now, I do wish, as much as anyone, that Martin Van Buren had been a successful leader, because surely, is it not true that we all wish for America to succeed? It is not so? But Van Buren has failed us, my friends; his policies have given way to disappointment and financial desolation. We cannot accept failure from our leaders. We must not. And that's why my colleague, William Harrison, is the man for the job. Because he knows how to achieve things, and achieve them well. And goddamn, am I proud of ol' Tippecanoe.....”[54c]
*
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
…..Tyler's semi-inebriated ramblings during the Richmond convention, surprisingly, did little to harm his standing amongst his more enthusiastic supporters; unfortunately, however, many other Whigs were somewhat alienated from him, and a mollified William Harrison had to deal with yet more bad press; Harrison later decided to keep Tyler under the spotlight, hoping to avoid any more incidents.
Meanwhile, Van Buren's hadn't been exactly been mistake & controversy free, either: Some of his disdainful remarks towards certain fellow Democrats whom he had a dislike for hadn't sat well with some, especially many moderates. He was also reproached by Jacksonians for what seemed to be a lack of willingness to stand by his old beliefs, and began to lose quite a bit of support in the South, especially Virginia and the Carolinas, Jackson's home turf.....[55]
*
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
By the end of September, both campaigns were fiercely neck-and-neck, with neither side really gaining much over the other. However, though, one trend began to become rather noticeable; Van Buren's support was solidifying amongst Northerners, while Harrison was becoming more and more dependent on the South to carry him to the White House. However, though, there would be one last blunder on the part of John Tyler that might have help seal his running mate's fate[56a].
During Harrison's last major Upper South campaign run in Baltimore on October 7th, Tyler was walking towards a hostel where he was to be staying, when he spotted a younger man on a corner on Conway Street passing out flyers. Tyler inquired as to the nature of the material, and the younger man showed him; Tyler became immediately dismayed to find out that this was campaign material for the Liberty Party. He began to behave in a somewhat bullish manner towards the man, who politely asked Tyler to leave him be. Tyler instead became more aggressive, and the other man, now slightly irritated, asked him to leave him alone again; Tyler took that as a sign of disrespect and then pushed the younger man slightly. He, in turn, had responded with a few obscenities, and that's when a now enraged Tyler took a hard left look and punched the other man squarely on the temple. Tyler had to be restrained by his entourage, who had been at a nearby cafe just across the street, before he did any worse damage to the man. This incident was to be forever known as the Baltimore Scandal, and Tyler became the first Vice-Presidential candidate to spend time in prison, even though it was only until the next morning.[56b]
Upon hearing of this, William Harrison requested that Tyler retire from the campaign trail and go home to be with his family, which Tyler reluctantly obliged[56c]. Harrison, meanwhile, struggled to maintain his image with voters, particularly many of those up north, who'd grown weary of his running mate.
Martin Van Buren, meanwhile, made one last rush to Missouri and Arkansas on the 20th, hoping to regain support from prospective voters in those states, having neglected the West for some time; to his relief, the last-minute blitz actually worked, as his opponent had never gone west of the Mississippi at all.....[57]
As the election drew to a close, it was already apparent to many that neither side had much of an advantage over the other and that the results were bound to be a close call; that prediction was looked upon in later years as understated; in a few states, the race was so close, that recounts were requested to ensure no mistakes in the results; in fact, Pennsylvania ballots were all recounted, twice! To be sure, both sides had their fingers crossed, and the fact that James G. Birney's dark horse Liberty Party had had a quite remarkable & impressive showing during the season, only complicated matters....[58a]
The popular vote was seemingly too close to call, so the Electoral College met in late November, and many hoped it would bring an end to the season. There was, however, a major problem: by an amazing statistical coincidence, both of the candidates had received 147 electoral votes, exactly. What truly complicated the matter is that both candidates had also won 13 states; and neither side was willing to budge as all 26 delegates voted with their party. This presented a truly major problem for Congress because both of the built-in failsafe measures hadn't worked as hoped, and tensions were starting to build up in both parties, and accusations started to fly. However, though, it was eventually decided to fall back on the popular vote to see who would be elected President that year....[58b]
After the votes were counted, the results were eventually made public. Although Harrison had put up a remarkably valiant fight, John Tyler's several gaffes, some of his own blunders, and an expected showing for James G. Birney had ultimately done too much harm to his campaign.[59]
….Despite the odds against him, Martin Van Buren had won the 1840 election by just 8,000 votes[60], and was therefore re-elected for a second term in the White House, to the disappointment of not just many Whigs, but many Jacksonian Democrats as well, who felt as if they'd been backstabbed by Van Buren[61].
Whatever the case, this election was sure to be about as controversial, and influential as 1824 had been for many years to come; not only did it help kickstart the trend of the North-South political divide[62a], but it even inspired a proposal for a new Constitutional Amendment[62b].....
[51] For sure.
[52]Probably should have done more of this IOTL.
[53]Can you say, 'Redenbacher', anyone?
[54]Yup.
[54a], [54b], [54c]-All based on Mitt Romney quotes, by the way. Bonus points if you can find which ones.
[55] Especially since he started turning away from Jacksonian policy.
[56a]No pun intended.
[56b]Shades of Preston Brooks/Charles Sumner, if you know what I mean.....
[56c]After all, he did have a dying daughter to attend to.....
[57]Dunno if this happened IOTL, as well.
[58a], [58b] Try to imagine what could have happened in 2012 if Obama and Romney had tied.
[59]Betcha you didn't see that coming, didja?
[60]I don't think any OTL election ever cut it this close outside of Gore vs. Bush in 2000.
[61]This is only the beginning, ladies and gentlemen. Van Buren is about to start ditching the Jacksonians altogether pretty soon.
[62a]Not that there weren't already some differences but the 1840 election is going to make that a lot worse.
[62b]This will be revealed later on, so stay tuned.
And I'll even throw in the Easter Special for ya:
**
Intermission #1: An Easter Reflection.
Kinderhook, New York
Apr. 11th, 1841
Martin Van Buren was glad to be back in his hometown after a dreadfully tiring year of electioneering. Having won another term in office, Van Buren hoped that he'd be warmly welcomed back here for the Easter celebrations. To his relief, he was; in fact, even some local Whigs had turned up.
“So, Mr. President,” said one of the patrons, “what'cha gonna do about the economy?”
“I've done some thinking,” said the President, “and I now realize that Jackson had it all wrong. We do need a national bank to help keep our economy running smoothly.”
“Will you curb the influence of the bankers?”, asked another man.
“Yes, I shall.” replied the President. “The Founders did warn us against allowing monied interests to dominate our government, and I now realize that I was foolish to follow in Jackson's footsteps in that regard.”
“What about Texas?”, inquired a short and pale Dutchman.
“Well, to be honest with you, I believe we ought to wait and see if the situation resolves itself. But if that little would-be Napoleon in Mexico, Santa Anna, starts to make any foolish moves, he'll be the first to understand that no one trifles with America without a fight. Because to fool with America, is to tempt fate itself.”, said Van Buren, with applause from the crowd.
“Alright, but what about the slavers?”, said the first man.
Van Buren replied,”We can encourage more Yankees to settle westward, to counter any possibility of a slaver-dominated Texas. I believe some of you may have heard of a man named Lysander Spooner?”
“Yes, I do recall,”, said the second man, “A cousin of mine told me about him and that he was going to Texas to join his party. And from what he's been telling me, they seem to be doing mighty fine down there, thus far.”
“Then we can use the success of Spooner's colony as an example.”, said the President, 'And hope that the colony doesn't get razed by angry planters, Santa Anna, or the Indians in the meantime', he thought silently.
“Sounds good to me,”, said the Dutchman, “I've been itching for some adventure already.”.
“Yeah, if you can survive crazy slaver lynch mobs, Mexicans with a grudge, and Indian arrows flying at you, I'd say you'd be good to go then.”, said the first man, eliciting chuckles from several men in the room, himself included.
15 minutes later, the bartender brought drinks to the table where Van Buren and several other men, including the three he'd just conversed with; they toasted each other, and then the others broke out in song:
“For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), which nobody can deny
Which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny
For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), which nobody can deny!”
“Congratulations, Mr. President!”, they all cheered. Van Buren smiled, feeling redeemed at last. The minute he got back to Washington, he'd start changing things for good.
*
Somewhere in Virginia
April 11, 1841
John Tyler was a man going through the worst days of his life; first he lost his son-in-law to yellow fever. Then he was humiliated by James G. Birney, and the whippersnapper in Baltimore, and abandoned by the Whig Party, and now had to deal with the loss of his beloved daughter, Mary. As he kneeled at the graves of Mary and her husband Henry, he uttered a short prayer, and then after he was done, began to turn away. And as he started off for home, he began to wonder: 'Perhaps someone's trying to tell me something. Maybe, just maybe, I need to think about what I've done and said this past year and a half and reflect on it, and perhaps, dare I say it, make amends for my sins and errors.'. And with that, Tyler began put his thoughts into serious consideration.....
*
North Bend, Ohio
April 4, 1841
William Henry Harrison was not necessarily the happiest man in America, but neither was he depressed, either: he did love living in North Bend, and with his family. And watching the younger children of his son John Scott at play pleased him, and served to comfort him against the defeat of a lifetime. Sitting on the front porch, he sipped some old hard cider that he'd bought from a store a few miles out of town. 'At least I still have my cabin, and my family. A content man, I certainly am.', he thought to himself, ironically. Indeed, what more could one want?
*
There you go. Hope you like it, because there's more to come.
Edit: Also, the map of the 1840 elections-
TBH, Mexico IOTL is a country that's had so much promise, but that's also been screwed so badly by circumstances, unfortunate political dealings, and just plain bad luck. I think they deserve a chance to be one of those places on top, and this TL intends to realize just that. As with my first TL, "Stars & Stripes", I've taken a multiple-POD approach with this one: no one change produces the universe as it evolves, but rather, many.
Also featuring the adventures of misplaced Yankee Lysander Spooner, the follies of Santa Anna, and problems within Texas.....oh, and did I mention Van Buren wins a second term thanks to James G. Birney?
La Tierra Afortunada: A Better and Nicer Mexico.
POD: April 9, 1839.[1a]
The United States in 1839 is in a bit of trouble at the moment: Just two years ago, the Panic of 1837 swept the country following an ill-planned, controversial and poorly thought-out decision by Andrew Jackson to dismantle the Second Bank of the United States the previous year. The entire country has been hard hit by these problems, but no more so than much of the Deep South(even Florida, whose residents were known for punctual payments, had trouble keeping up!), and several of the northeastern states, Vermont, Connecticut and New Jersey in particular. Martin Van Buren was in office only for about nine weeks before the economy crashed in May of that year, and yet unfortunately (perhaps unjustly) received much of the blame, though it can be argued that Van Buren's own refusal to involve the government in the matter couldn't have helped his case, as it exacerbated the problem.
Within 2 months, nearly $100 million worth of bank losses had been reported, in the state of New York alone. And it wasn't restricted to just banks, either; New York City lost over 250 of its businesses in the month of April, before the real crash began!
Farmers, too, have been affected: though the crop harvest in 1837 out in the old Northwest was rather good by most standards, which helped them weather the first months of the ongoing crisis, prices have begun a sharp drop and many now find themselves struggling to stay afloat. And, worst of all, many state financial institutions, too, have found themselves collapsing.
As things continue to go south, many people wonder when and where it will all end[1].
We turn, for a second, to Mexico, which is having to deal with a few of it's own problems today.
In 1836, President Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was deposed after the fiasco in Texas which allowed that state to break off and become its own country, after being declared unfit for rule by the Mexican Congress. He did eventually make a comeback during the Pastry War[2], and had tried to rebuild his reputation, using his war service as a crutch. On March 20th, 1839, Santa Anna arrived back in Mexico City to a mixed reaction; some were indeed grateful for his return, but many others not so much. But just as Santa Anna was getting used to being back in the driver's seat, as it were, the generals Jose Mexia and Jose Urrea began into action a plot to orchestrate his overthrow, not two weeks after his re-ascension to office. Already having been deposed once, Santa Anna wasn't exactly willing to step in and let the rebels shove him aside, as the Texans did.....
And speaking of Texas, controversy has been stirring recently back over in the U.S. whether or not the country should be considered for a possible future annexation.
In April 1839, a fledgling Ohioan lawyer and Mass. native by the name of Lysander Spooner, began to consider leaving for Texas to start anew, and to make the case for a free state status should it become the next U.S. State, and to possibly establish a settlement in the area[3]. He decided to start a fundraising effort to try to raise some money for the cause. At first, the response was a little slow, but Spooner was, fortunately for him, able to raise several thousand dollars for the expedition to Texas by the end of June, and he and about 50 other adventure seekers left for the Hill Country on July 11th. Arriving at a site just northwest of Austin in early August, Spooner settled down, and was one of the primary founders of the town of Liberty Creek the following February(and platted in April 1840). This attracted some attention as Spooner was the first Yankee to have been the founder of ANY community in Texas, though of course, not everyone in the Lone Star Nation was necessarily welcoming of this
Yankee once they knew who he was.....[4]
Forward to 1840, and U.S. President Martin Van Buren is still planning to run for a second term in office despite the number of challenges he's had to overcome during his first, and his popularity has remained a bit on the low side, but he is beginning to see hope: the situations in Texas and Mexico may provide him with another chance to prove himself worthy of the office of U.S. President. Even so, is Van Buren perhaps still doomed to fail, an to be replaced by his opponent, the famous general and Ohio senator, William Henry Harrison[5a]? Or can he salvage his reputation and squeeze in another term as the Big Man in the White House[5b]?
[1a]Subject to change, possibly.
[1b]And there's no end on the horizon, it seems. Or is there?...*wink*
[2]One of the strangest, and quite frankly, silliest, wars in history.
[3]And this is where the fun begins, ladies and gents.....
[4]That's putting it somewhat lightly....there were indeed a few Southerners who were actually radical enough to justify killing abolitionists just for not conforming to the whims of Southron high society(and many more who certainly didn't think all that highly of abolitionists even if they weren't to go as far as wishing them dead.)
[5a]As per OTL.
[5b]It'll be tough for ol' Kinderhook but he's not exactly one to roll over and play dead, either. In any case, 1840 is sure to be an interesting year.....=)
**
Some selected excerpts from “The Presidents: The Story of the Oval Office and The Men Who Occupied It, 2nd edition.”
Authored by Robert Jackson, 1999. © Liberty Tree Publishing, San Francisco, CA.
As the 1840 election season dawned, Martin Van Buren found himself in a somewhat unfortunate position; during his first term, the Crash of 1837 had taken many a business and utterly destroyed their financial viability; particularly hard hit, was the South and the Northeast, many big planters and bankers, respectively, felt the worst of the effects. Although the President himself had not been responsible for the crash(it can be argued with some validity that his predecessor Jackson was, though.), he was still blamed for not taking enough action to rescue the economy, so much so, in fact, that some derisively nicknamed him “Martin Van Ruin”[6]. The Democrats were already on shaky ground, and as the recession ploughed on, the Whigs started to look more and more appealing with every passing day.....
Nevertheless, however, they renominated Van Buren anyway; no-one else in his party wanted to run for for the White House. In fact, nobody could even agree on the Vice-Presidential position for the 1840 election: James K. Polk had been considered for the position at one point, but could not receive enough endorsements to get the nomination. So, as a result, President Van Buren became the first candidate to campaign without a running mate.
On the other hand, the Whig Party was riding the high tide of political discontent and a desire for change. Henry Clay, the highly popular and rather folksy Kentucky statesman, saw the writing on the wall and hoped that his time had finally arrived to get the ehance to sit in the Oval Office. However, though, he had, unfortunately, made a number of enemies over the years, and the Whigs weren't about to gamble with their chances of winning the White House. As a result, they decided to stick with a less controversial candidate: William Henry Harrison, the war hero, and former Ohio state senator. To get a regional balance, they sought out Virginian Senator John Tyler for the Vice-Presidential nomination, which Tyler accepted.
The 1840 election was heavily focused on image-making, and in fact, even more than substance, which was quite unique(though inevitable, as some may argue.). A pro-Democratic pundit once opined that Harrison would be just as content to sip on some hard cider in front of his log cabin as to serve as President. The Whigs, seeing an opprotunity, took this piece of satirical mocking and turned it to their advantage, starting the now famous “Log Cabin and Hard Cider!” Campaign, selling Harrison as a man of the people, and handing out many bottles of free cider at their rallies. In the same token, Van Buren was derided as an elitist with no sense of empathy for the common man and was said to indulge in fine wines and exotic foods. One politically-inclined poet had this to say:
“Let Van from his coolers of silver drink wine
And lounge on his cushioned settee,
Our man on a buckeye bench can recline,
Content with hard cider is he.”[7]
What may seem truly ironic to some, however, is that Van Buren had grown up in a working-class New York family and had climbed his way to the top of the Golden Hill[8], so to speak; Harrison, on the other hand, was a wealthy Virginian who himself had quite a few of the trappings and mannerisms of your average aristocrat.
In any case, this was already shaping up to be a rather tense election indeed; however, though, there was a wild card candidate who came on the scene that would make things all the more complicated: James G. Birney. Birney, a native of Kentucky and former planter, had come to reject slavery about a decade earlier and had built up a reputation as a devoted abolitionist, so much so that his life was threatened on several occasions, by pro-slavery agitators. But this didn't stop him from pursuing his interests, and in 1837, the American Anti-Slavery Society recruited him to their ranks and he moved to New York with his family. By the time the 1840 elections rolled around, he was considering a run for the Presidency....[9]
**
Albany, New York.
April 1, 1840.
James G. Birney was a man on a mission; ever since that fateful day in 1833, he had resolved to help bring about the end of slavery once and for all, and had become an abolitionist in the following year. Since then, he had had to endure intimidation, hatred, and even threats against his life. But Birney had struggled on, determined to never give in to his adversaries. And now, he had found the ultimate political calling: ascending to the White House, as President of the United States. It was here in this little town in Wyoming County that a new party was born.....the Liberty Party. “Truly a fitting name for our organization.”, he thought. And he hoped that it'd be here to stay. Now, though, it was time to get to work on his campaign, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.....
**
These excerpts are from “Liberty's Call: A Short History of the Liberty Party”, authored by John Porter.
© 1948 Whitmore Press, Salt Lake, Utah.
The Liberty Party, in its first incarnation[10], was the first dedicated anti-slavery party, and originally had its origins in the American abolitionist movement, particularly with the American Anti-Slavery Society.
The party first developed partly thanks to a split between supporters of the more radical William Lloyd Garrison, who eschewed major political action, and a more conservative faction led by Gerrit Smith, who believed that their aims could be best obtained by more orthodox means. The anti-Garrisonian faction was also headed by Arthur Tappan, William Jay[11], and Salmon P. Chase, an Ohioan who was known as a stalwart defender of abolitionism.
It was at one of the state conventions in Warsaw, N.Y., in which James G. Birney was chosen to be the Liberty Party's nominee for the Presidency; Francis J. LeMoyne, the Pennsylvania-born son of a French physician immigrant who had himself become a doctor, before his starting his abolition work, was to be Birney's Vice-President.
At the national convention in Albany, New York, on April 1, 1840, delegates from half a dozen states came to the determine the nominations; all 6 of them confirmed the Birney/LeMoyne ticket, officially adopted the party name, and made the slavery issue the key plank of their platform. Though confident he would make an impact, Birney realized that in order to be better heard, he might have to seek out a wealthy benefactor or two who would be willing to help fund the party's campaign[12]. So, in the month of June, he decided to seek the assistance of his old comrades, the Tappan brothers....
**
Letter from James G. Birney to Lewis Tappan, June 6th, 1840. Archived by the National Library, Washington, D.C.
Dear Mr. Tappan,
I write this letter to ask you a much needed favor.
As you may remember, last year I came to the conclusion that, in order to eliminate the terrible scourge of slavery from this great nation of ours, that we must begin to work to insert ourselves into the body politic, by any legal means necessary. I am pleased to report that the formation of a party was successful; we've called it the “Liberty Party”, due to our abolitionist aims, above all else. Interest in our party has been growing by the day since we have created it, and we expect that this will only continue. There is, however, a small problem: We have very little in the way of funding, and I am disappointed to report that Gerrit Smith's monetary contributions may not be enough to allow us a more noticeable voice. My own experience in the field of publishing will be helpful, but as we both understand, money is to campaigning what food is to a man: it shall perish for the lack of it. My personal aims for reaching the White House may be a Herculean task, but there is hope: there are a few persons running for office who have expressed interest in this new party of ours. One man that I know of in particular, William Jay, has great promise for a political career, if he chooses to accept the challenge to win the district in which he currently resides, in the Albany area.
Will you assist us in our aims? If we are indeed able to gain a presence in Washington, I do believe this may benefit us in the long run. And we will need every bit of good fortune that comes our way, for our adversaries are relentless and have many powerful people on their side, to do their bidding.[13]
Any assistance is appreciated, and thank you, in advance, for reading this letter.
Sincerely,
-James G. Birney, New York City, New York.
Response to James G. Birney from Lewis Tappan, June 27th, 1840.
Mr. Birney,
I have received your letter, and after some contemplation, I have made my decision.
It shall be a challenge to put this party into the halls of power, and I'm afraid that your hopes of ascending to the White House may not be feasible at this time. However, I also realize that there is indeed potential for this new Liberty Party of yours; there are many people, not just in this state, but in several others across the nation as well, that are open to abolitionist thought and morals. After all, did not the Founders intend for this to be a free nation?
Instead, tragically, we have seen the slavers defy the true meaning of the Constitution and to force the rest of us to play along in their dastardly games. This cannot stand forever, James, and any attempt to slow, or even halt, the advance of the Perfidious Institution is to be applauded. This may indeed prove to be a grand opportunity for us, and I hope that we may be able to save the soul of this nation yet.
I have also consulted with my brother, Arthur, and he has informed me that he, too, would be honored to assist you in the genesis of this project of ours.
May the Lord bless & guide you, James. Good men such as yourself and I shall be at the forefront of this greatest of moral battles yet to be faced in this nation, and it is my hope that slavery shall indeed one day pass away, nevermore to haunt the conscience of these United States. [14]
Yours in Christ,
Lewis Tappan.
James Birney's Final Response. July 1st, 1840.
Mr. Tappan, kind sir,
I thank you most sincerely for your generosity in this matter. Though our struggle may be great, and our rivals strong and powerful, together, acting as one, and with God's blessing, we can overcome even the greatest of enemies. I have contacted some like-minded fellows in other places across the nation, and they, too, have joined this moral mission of ours.....[snip]
May God be with you always.
-James G. Birney.[15]
**
[6]This was a real nickname for Van Buren.
[7]This poem was real, btw.
[8]An ATL idiom for achieving the pinnacle of success.
[9]Birney will play a significant role in the years to come.
[10]Major hint for what's in store for the future.
[11]Who may be running for Congress.
[12]Indeed, a wealthy benefactor might prove to be the salvation of any campaign....
[13]Sad but true.
[14]Tappan was a rather religious fellow, although a Unitarian.
[15]Birney & Tappan are going to become closer in friendship during the coming years.
**
This was taken from “The Land of Aztlan, Volume 2: Mexico in the 19th Century”, authored by Roberto Solano Lopez, 1975.
In 1842, Antonio de Santa Anna was facing an increasingly difficult dilemma; though he had been welcomed with open arms by many people in the country after Mexico's victory in the Pastry War of 1838, had unfortunately re-alienated many of the people in only a very short amount of time.
Elevated back into office in September, 1840, his second term, though not without its positive points, such as the revamping of Mexico's currency, and even the approval of plans to lay out the nation's first railroads, was unfortunately marred by several problems; firstly, Santa Anna's regime had gone straight back to engaging in repressive activities; the jailing of dissidents for even the slightest of offenses was a regular, almost everyday, occurrence. One man who was caught distributing anti-Santanista flyers in Veracruz in the summer of 1841 was, at one point, threatened with his life by the constabulary if he refused to cease his activities. Another man, whose wife later gave birth to one of Mexico's greatest generals of a later era, was carted off to prison for the mere “crime” of disagreeing with Santa Anna's Texas policies.
Political corruption and other abuses of power had become an issue as well: Santa Anna had imposed heavy taxes on many Mexicans, exacerbating the poverty situation in that country. All householders were strongly encouraged to pay “contributions” to the Treasury, duties were increased to as much as 20 percent, and the even the Church was forced to give out loans to the government, at the demand of Santa Anna himself; at the same time, the Mexican upper class was booming.[16]
The President also was responsible for Mexico's Second Constitution, which concentrated more power in his own hands, and those of loyal to him. Santa Anna filled many, many, positions with friends and other allies of his, and ordered a massive enlargement of the country's army. And he paid for it all with loans, both domestic and foreign. It is even said that he even sold phony shares to mining investors in Britain and the United States!
Santa Anna's second administration had also begun to take a turn for the strangely bizarre as well: He began to have statues bearing his likeness placed all over Mexico City, and many of the city's landmark buildings, including even the city's largest theater, were named after him. He even made his saint's day a national holiday and created new titles for himself! (Letters he wrote were often signed, "Santa Anna, Savior of the Fatherland. General of Division, Knight of the Great Cross of the Royal and Distinguished Spanish Order of Charles III, President of the Mexican Republic, Grand Master of the National and Distinguished Order of Guadelupe.")[17]
Despite his living in the lap of luxury, Santa Anna realized that he was still not invincible, so along with his private army, he also increased the size of the Presidential Guard to 1200 persons, rotating between shifts so as to give him 24-hour protection, 7 days a week. Even with this, however, Santa Anna was becoming increasingly concerned with rebellions, particularly the ones in Coahuila, and the Yucatan.....[18]
**
Taken from “Lone Star: A Short History of the Republic of Texas”, authored by Albert Carston.
1947, Lone Star University Press, Austin. All rights reserved.
The Republic of Texas in 1842, found itself in a bit of a dilemma; though it had successfully won independence from Mexico in April, 1836, the state was having to deal with Indian raids, the looming prospect of war with Santa Anna's regime, and a general concern for the state's welfare & future....[snip]
One of the worst Indian raids of the era occurred on August 7, 1840, in Victoria and Linnville, the latter now in Albertson County. “The Great Raid”, as it was called, occurred as a result of the Council House Fight, in which Texian officials had tried to imprison 33 Comanche chiefs who had intended to negotiate a peace treaty with the Republic; all of them, plus two dozen other Indians, would not survive the encounter. The Comanche war chief Buffalo Hump, orPotsana Kwahip[19] in his native language,sensing a dishonorable betrayal on the part of the Texians, decided that retaliation was in order for this act.
During the spring and early summer of 1840, Buffalo Hump informed several of his fellow Comanche band leaders that he was planning to go on a raid of some Texian settlements, to avenge the deaths of their comrades in the Council House. Along with his initial band, several more joined the party, and by the time Buffalo Hump was ready to move out[, he had at least 400 warriors under his command, and as many as 1,000 Comanches may have participated, in total[20]. On this raid, the Comanches went all the way from what is now far eastern New Mexico[21], to the Gulf Coast towns of Victoria and Linnville, the latter now in Albertson County. In what was later described by one survivor as a “savage plunder, worthy of the likes of the Khans of old Mongolia”[22], the Comanches raided and then sometimes burned down several towns in the area, and stole property of various persons at will.
[snip]
After having done some considerable damage in central Texas, the Comanches headed for the Gulf Coast. Although the Texian militias had realized the Comanches' intentions and tried to shadow the Indian raiders, part of the party broke off without warning and headed straight to the southeast.
There was very little warning for the residents of Victoria, sadly. On the afternoon of August 6th, the Comanches rode into town, whooping and hollering; it was the only clue that the Victorians had that something was amiss, and only when they arrived in town did it become truly apparent.
The Indians harmed no young children here[23], from what is known today, but about a dozen men and a couple of women who resisted them, were slaughtered. However, though, the Indians were forced to retreat after some surviving Texians fired back from various buildings across the town; about a dozen Indians, including one woman of the dozens who had accompanied them, had perished[24].
The Comanches reformed the war band, and eventually decided to head towards the southeast, to the town of Linnville, which was, at that time, one of the most important ports in the Republic of Texas. And on the morning of August 7th, they surrounded the town, and at around 10:40 a.m., attacked the settlement with full force.
Though only three Texians had been killed(a fourth man who was targeted, Hugh Oran Watts[25], had managed to escape with his life, after a fellow settler sacrificed himself so Watts could save some of his family's heirlooms), partly due to the fact that some Linnvillians fought back with rifle fire, there were still too many Comanches to deal with, and, overwhelmed, terrified residents fled to the coast, realizing that the Indians had no experience on the ocean and hoped that it would pay off. Led by one William G. Marshall, They boarded a schooner and watched helplessly as the Indians proceeded to trash and loot the town from within; all they could do at this point, was curse at the misfortune which had befallen them.
During the rest of that entire day, the Indians plundered, and sometimes burned afterwards, dozens of buildings in the town, dressing themselves in European-style clothes and top hats, amongst other things, and even tied some feather beds and cloth to their horses. During that time, one angry citizen, John Hays, the local judge, retrieved his pistol and waded ashore, yelling madly at the town's desolators as if possessed by demons of a sort. The Comanches, however spared him, thinking that he had indeed gone insane[26]. Upon wading ashore, however, he realized that he faced an entire war party of almost thousand Indians. Knowing that he was outnumbered, he decided to go back to the ship; Hays later found out that his weapon hadn't even been loaded, and even if it had been, it wouldn't have made much of a difference[27].
At the time that the Great Raid had occurred, it was reported that over $300,000 worth of goods, including a now unknown amount of silver bullion, had been stolen. John Linn, the town's founder, had noted that in addition to cloth and other goods that were most often stocked in the town's warehouse, that a few cases of hats and umbrellas, belonging to San Antonio merchant James Robinson, had gone missing. Linn, however, did soon find out just what had happened to these items, and his discovery was a bit amusing, to say the least. As he quipped about a decade afterwards during an interview with a Spooner newspaper, "These the Indians made free with, and went dashing about the blazing village, amid their screeching squaws and `little Injuns,' like demons in a drunken saturnalia, with Robinson's hats on their heads and his umbrellas bobbing about on every side like tipsy young balloons."(What a sight that must have been!)[28]
After the loading their loot, the raiders, some of them clothed in the stolen garments, finally decided to move on, late on the morning of August 8th, and were gone by the afternoon.
The Battle of Plum Creek.
For about a couple of weeks after they discovered the Comanches' war trails, the Texas Rangers had been tracking the Indian raiders throughout much of the middle and southeastern regions of the country, but had little luck keeping up with them consistently and were also rather outnumbered. However, though, the sacking of Linnville had ironically enough, provided some extra time for the Rangers to gather up some volunteers from the militias, and in some cases, even ordinary citizens, just wanting to play a role in the defense of their homeland. They came from Gonzales, Bastrop, and several others places from all over central and eastern Texas, backed up by additional reinforcements from more Ranger companies in those areas, and they began to prepare to intercept the Indians. Their efforts paid off: on August 12, 1840, they caught up with the Comanches not too far from Plum Creek, near today's Lockhart.
The Comanches had one major advantage over the Texians; they were excellent horsemen, and, admittedly, had the some of the absolute best cavalry in the entire New World, and perhaps among the best in the world, at this point in time; normally, they would ride away from the scene of a victory to avoid being overtaken by their adversaries, and usually, it worked quite well. On this day, however, they had been noticeably hampered by the pack mules that were carrying the loot they had stolen from Linnville, Victoria, and several other towns.
The Indians hadn't counted on being ambushed out of the blue, and were taken totally by surprise when the Rangers and the militias appeared out of nowhere and attacked them early that afternoon. What soon followed was a long running gun battle that lasted until about an hour or so after sundown. Finally realizing that their loot was holding them back, the Comanches left most of it behind, and, ironically, the Texians' greediness might have proved beneficial to the Indians; they decided to let the Comanches run home, divided the loot amongst themselves, and began to return home.[29]
All in all, the Texians claimed that over 80 Comanches had died, but no more than 2 dozen bodies were ever recovered; whatever the truth may be, it's almost certain that Buffalo Hump's war party probably did suffer losses that were much higher than normal. The Texians, in contrast, lost only half that number.
**
Somewhere in Texas
Aug. 17, 1840
Buffalo Hump was a content man, at this moment.
Earlier that month, he had successfully pulled off one of the greatest raids against white settlement known to this day, and had the Texians running scared, like a deer trying to escape the hungry clutches of a pack of coyotes, and it seemed that he was finally getting his wishes for revenge fulfilled. However, though, one thing began to trouble him: What if the Texians were to stop being afraid of the Comanches and started to push back? And what if, perhaps they succeeded at driving them out of Texas, or even the whole region, period? There were many white men in the country who had no care for Indians and some who truly desired them to be forced out of what they saw as their rightful land, by any means necessary.
But he was also able to wean his mind off such pessimism, by reminding himself that the Comanches were still a force to be reckoned with in this part of the world, and they could always call upon their allies in the region should the need ever arise to do so. The white man might have had money, guns, and cannons, but, in his mind, they couldn't beat the Natives' knowledge of the land, or their spirits.....[30]
**
[16]And you thought it was bad in OTL America under Dubya Bush.....
[17]Yep, these were real titles, by the way. Santa Anna took the train to Crazy Town on this one.
[18]Not to mention Texas, whose secession he considered the biggest betrayal yet.
[19]Look it up on Wikipedia if you want a few laughs(warning: it gets a bit raunchy. Not recommended for anyone under 21.....and definitely not safe for younger teens.). Let's just say that this guy might have had some really good....assets, ya know?
[20]Not counting women and children who came with them.
[21]A nice little hint as to where I'm going in future installments.
[22]Yes, this is an original quote, by the way. I made it up all myself.
[23]Dunno about OTL, but I'd hope it was true here, too.
[24]Apparently, some of their womenfolk were pretty damn good fighters.
[25]This particular person actually died IOTL.
[26]This actually happened, by the way. For real.
[27]Of course, going Rambo probably would have been more satisfying for the moment, but I guess he just didn't have the balls to do it(balls.....get it?).
[28]Actual quote, by the way.
[29]The moral of the story here is, basically, it's better to live with little to nothing gained, than die filthy stinking rich with all the booty you could possibly want.....smart call, IMO.
[30]Well, or so he hopes.
***
***
From the pages of the Trans-Texas Historical Society, Issue 16. Jan. 7, 1947,“Spotlight on Old Texas” Series. Authored by John E. Halsey, used with permission.[31]
The Republic of Texas, is surely one of history's more interesting footnotes; it only existed for a short time, and didn't even survive its first decade. But it has left its mark on history: the Republic of Texas was home to, and even produced, many a great man(and woman), during its brief, yet eventful, existence, some more obscure and some famous, and it is my privilege to bring to you the first installment of our “Spotlight on Old Texas” series.
This month's issue will be focusing on a man who helped birth the Republic of Texas, yet became one of its most dogged adversaries for a time, before reacquainting himself with his homeland after a long absence. He was a man of great integrity, who also became a skilled pragmatist later in his life, and remained loyal to his roots until the end of his days[32]. His name was Juan Seguin.
Juan Nepomuceno Seguin was born in what is now San Antonio in 1806, to Juan Erasmo Seguin and Josephina Becerra, both natives of Texas; Interestingly, it is generally believed that Seguin's great-great-grandfather, Guillermo, was of French extraction originally, having moved to Mexico for reasons still unknown to us today[33], and married a local Hispanic woman. Erasmo was born in S.A. himself
in 1782.
Not much is known about Juan N's earliest years at this point, but we do know, however, that Juan N.'s father was a postmaster and Juan N. often assisted his parents in running the business, particularly while his father was off assisting the drafting of Mexico's First Constitution in 1824. In 1825, he married Maria Gertrudis Flores de Abrego in San Antonio; they later had as many as 10 children. Juan N.'s interest in politics went back to his teenage years and he became a strong believer in democratic ideals. His political career started in 1828 when he was elected to the alderman's office in San Antonio, and served on a number of electoral boards, before being elected to the office of alcalde(Spanish for mayor)in 1833, after the previous one retired due to illness, but only lasted for a few months before retiring.
Seguin had not been content with the rule of Antonio de Santa Anna and in fact, had been highly critical of the many of the man's policies. In fact, by 1834, he became so dissatisfied with Santa Anna's increasingly reactionary administration, that he began to plan open revolt. During his short stint as governor of Texas, he made connections with people who'd later prove to be valuable allies in the fight for freedom.[34]
In October, Seguin came upon an idea to distribute his ideas on a wider scale. He decided to issue a circular letter to every single municipality in Texas urging them to appoint some delegates for a convention to meet with him in San Antonio on the 13th, for the purpose of taking into some consideration the dangers they were facing and for devising ways to combat them. And it was at this meeting, where Seguin first made the call for a Texian Constitutional Convention, to meet on November 15th. However, though, due to some time constraints, and the fact that Stephen F. Austin had been in Mexico proper at the time, many Texans especially those concerned about retaliation from Santa Anna's regime against them and Seguin, failed to respond, and so only a few showed up. Colonel Jose Mendoza was later ordered to march his troops to San Antonio from Matamoros to San Antonio and detain the delegates who had made it. Juan Seguin, for his part, was reprimanded for his actions. Partly because of this, Seguin announced his retirement in February of the following year, turning it over to Ramon Muzquiz on March 1st.
Juan Seguin hadn't been much of a military man before the days of the revolt, but this began to change in April, 1835, when he was chosen to head up the State Guard. His first real action occurred not long afterwards when he was sent to the state of Coahuila to protect the liberal government there from being besieged by General Martin Perfecto de Cos, accompanied by Benjamin Milam and John K. Allen, who reportedly did an excellent job assisting Seguin in routing the Santanista forces.
Stephen F. Austin, the famous pioneer, was elected leader of the Republic of Texas during that September, and he had been so impressed by Seguin's actions during the Coahuila campaign that he appointed Seguin captain in the brand-new Texian Army. As it turned out, Seguin would soon be putting his abilities to the test....
The town of Gonzales was in some turmoil in late September: earlier that month, on the 10th, a Mexican soldier had beaten a Gonzales resident, for reasons still unclear today, and this led to much outrage and public protesting. Mexican authorities were conccrned about the possibility of escalating violence so they decided it might be unwise to leave them with any weapons; as it turned out, Gonzales was home to a six-pounder cannon which had been given to the town just 4 years earlier to ward off the occasional Indian raid. Colonel Domingo de Ugartechea had been ordered to retrieve the cannon and sent 6 of his men, a corporal and several regular soldiers, to issue the ultimatum from Ugartechea demanding that the cannon be turned over to him. However, though, many of the town's residents suspected a set-up and the soldiers were sent back to the camp, sans the cannon. In fact, the Texians were so determined to keep the cannon that it became a rallying symbol that they could all stand behind, and soon after, the now famous “Come and Take It!” flag was devised.
Alcalde Andrew Ponton, concerned that Ugartechea would send more troops, sent a messenger to the tiny hamlet of Mina(now Bastrop, a town of 25,000)[35], to ask for assistance. Word spread quickly, and when Stephen F. Austin caught word of this, he immediately sent messengers to surrounding communities, informing them of the 300-man force soon to besiege Gonzales, though cautioning them to remain as defensive as possible; any unprovoked attacks on Mexican forces, he reasoned, might hamper potential support from the U.S., if a wider war was to begin.
On September 27th, Francisco de Castaneda left San Antonio for Gonzales, with a second order demanding that Ponton and his men surrender the cannon, and had been instructed not to use force unless it was necessary. But when they arrived in Gonzales 2 days later, Albert Martin, the captain of the town militia, informed them that Ponton had left, and requested that they remain on the west bank of the local river. They couldn't cross it, so they camped on some high ground instead. The next day, Castaneda again asked about the cannon and was then rebuffed, this time by a spokesman, which was interpreted as a stalling tactic.
Ugartechea asked a Gonzales resident, Dr. Launcelot Smither, who had been in San Antonio on business, to try to assist Castaneda in convincing the settlers that the soldiers meant no harm if the cannon was given up peacefully. He met with militia captain Mathew Caldwell the following morning and Caldwell asked him to bring Castaneda around town. At the same moment, however, fellow captain John Moore had called a war council, and they had voted to initiate combat with the Mexicans; whether or not they knew about Caldwell's deal, isn't known to this day.
In any case, the cannon, which had been buried by three of the Texians, was unearthed and mounted on cart wheels, and James C. Neill, a War of 1812 veteran, put in charge of it, along with Almaron Dickinson, to form the first Texian artillery company[36], all the while blessed by local minister W.P. Smith.
And as the Texians plotted their attack, Castaneda was warned by a Coushatta Indian that about 140 men were gathered in Gonzales, and more were joining the ranks. Sensing danger ,Castaneda ordered his men to search for a place to cross the river. By nightfall on October 1st, they were about 7 miles away from their previous spot.
The battle proved to be inconssequential in terms of casualties: Only 2 Mexicans had died and only one Texan injured; the man had only been bucked off his horse. Though it's now regarded as a one-sided battle, Gonzales is regarded as perhaps the turning point for the Texian Revolution, particularly because of its political significance.
Juan Seguin spent the next couple of months advancing the Revolution, bit by bit,
Perhaps the most important battle of 1835, however, was the two-month long Siege of Bexar. General Cos had been sent by Santa Anna to occupy[37] San Antonio, and arrived on October 9th.. The Texians, soon after hearing of General Cos's invasion, had prepared to fight back; they had already liberated Goliad from Mexican control so Martin de Cos had no effective way to communicate with the coastal areas. Cos, fearing the Texians were about to take San Antonio back, started to fortify the city instead of going on the offensive.
Stephen F. Austin, with support from Seguin and others, was unanimously confirmed as commander-in-chief of the Texian forces on the 11th, and ordered the men to start marching at 9 am the next morning. But before then, they were to practice their tactics; Austin also told his men not to fire indiscriminately, and to keep their weapons in good shape at all times. Elections for other positions had also been held: John Moore became Colonel; Edward Burleson(for whom both Burleson County, and the town of Burleson in Johnson County were named[38]), a former Missouri militia commander, was chosen to be the Lt. Colonel, and Alexander Somervell[39], a Brazoria merchant was elected Major.
On Oct. 12, the Texians had about 300 men, primarily from Austin's colonies and the DeWitt area, with more expected from Nacogdoches. Leaving at 9 am, as ordered, the Texians began to make the slow advance towards San Antonio, stopping at the Guadalupe River. The next day, the men from Nacogdoches joined them, and they began the next leg of the journey.
The remainder of their trek[40] was rather uneventful, with the exception of gathering a few more volunteers and Ben Milam's brief skirmish with a Mexican patrol on the 15th, but when they reached Cibolo Creek, that ended. Austin requested a meeting with General Cos, but he refused to do so, claiming that Austin's men were an “illegal” force. As the situation grew more tense, the Mexicans continued to build up their garrison, going as high as 751 men at one point[41].
Seguin himself had arrived on the 22nd, with 37 Tejanos willing to fight for him and the cause; this had the added benefit of helping to in the words of one historian, “blur the essence of ethnicity”, providing some evidence that the Texian cause wasn't just a overreaction by a few Southern American immigrants. On that same day, Austin names James Bowie and James Fannin co-commanders of the 1st Battalion, who were to be sent on a recon mission; they had been able to seize a local mission, the Espada, by the end of the day.
On the 27th, the Texians were able to seize the Mission Concepcion, and used it as a temporary campsite, despite their army being split up. They did not, however, anticipate being attacked, but on the early morning hours of the 28th, this is exactly what occurred.
The Battle of Concepcion only lasted about 30 minutes or so, making it one of the shortest battles in history; the Mexicans then treated back towards Bexar after having their tails soundly kicked by the Texians, but not before Richard Andrews, a soldier known for his size, was the sole fatality; he was later immortalized in Texan folklore and the town of Andrews in Henderson County, was named for him, as was Andrews County(about 100 miles west of Fort Worth)[42].
From there, the siege continued for another several weeks, but by mid-December, the city of San Antonio was secured, with only 35 losses, though this included Ben Milam, who died on the 7th, while overlooking the Church of San Fernando; it is said that he fell into the arms of Samuel Maverick as he passed on.
Because of his continued successes, Seguin was once again made a captain, when the Texas Army became an official outfit in January, 1836, by none other than Stephen F. Austin himself. And his resolve would once again be tested, just a month later.
The Battle of the Alamo was one of the most critical events in the history of the Revolution and Juan Seguin played a notable part[43].
In the weeks prior to the attack, Texian army commander Sam Houston, found himself in a bad spot; the Alamo, though not sparsely occupied, initially did not have a strong enough defense to ward off any potential Mexican invaders, and James Bowie and James Neill both informed the then sitting governor, Henry Smith, that they would rather die in the ditches than allow Santa Anna's men to retake the area; William Travis arrived with 30 men on February 3rd; not quite an army of its own but the defenders were glad to take any help they could get.
And luckily enough, they had some extra time to prepare; Santa Anna's army had had both supply and insubordination issues; many of the new recruits didn't know how to use their weaponry properly and some of them wouldn't even use their weapons at all, for fear of injury from the recoil; there was also the issue of some of the teamsters quitting when their salary had been delayed. The accompanying soldaderas had also hampered the trek northwards; their on-going consumption of already somewhat scarce food supplies, led to soldiers receiving only partial rations. To add onto all this, the region had experienced a cold wave the likes of which was not to be quite seen for another 150 years; as much as 16 inches of snow had fallen as well, making the journey to San Antonio even more dreadfully challenging[44]. But regardless of all they had gone through, they were able to reach the Medina River, 25 miles from San Antonio by the 21st, and despite heavy rains, they had reached the city proper by the 23rd.
And unfortunately, even with the extra time, the Texians were still unprepared; only at the last minute did they make any arrangements, by scrounging for food in abandoned homes, and finding places to store their cattle. And by the end of the afternoon, the city was occupied by 1,500 Mexican troops. Things almost came to a head when Travis fired the fort's largest cannon at them after they raised the red flag, signifying “no quarter”; as in, no mercy for the enemy. James Bowie sent Green B. Jameson as an emissary to Santa Anna, and in response, Travis sent Albert Martin as his own emissary. Though both Texians indicated they were willing to surrender honorably, but were told that any surrender was unconditional. In the words of Jose Bartres:
“I reply to you, according to the order of His Excellency, that the Mexican army cannot come to terms under any conditions with rebellious foreigners to whom there is no recourse left, if they wish to save their lives, than to place themselves immediately at the disposal of the Supreme Government from whom alone they may expect clemency after some considerations.”[45a]
Upon hearing of the Mexican response, Travis and Bowie mutually agreed to fire the cannon once again. Tensions grew and grew and finally reached a breaking point on the chilly evening of February 26th, when soldiers under Colonel Juan Bringas killed a Texian who was burning some huts. Four days later, a Texian shot and killed Pvt. Secundino Alvarez.
The siege had begun in earnest on March 5th , and Seguin, due to the fact he spoke Spanish as his native language, and that he was quite familiar with the terrain, was the perfect courier for the Texians. However, though, during one trip to get more reinforcements to assist his fellows, he discovered, to his dismay, that the Alamo had just fallen to Santa Anna's men, not knowing of the fates of his allies in arms for some time. However, though, it has been said that Santa Anna became furious upon learning of Seguin's fortunate survival, yelling "Where is Seguin, I want Seguin!".[45b]
After this, he then decided to turn back to Gonzales and he ended up meeting up with Sam Houston to participate in the Runaway Scrape; this was essentially a series of guerrilla brushes between the Texians and the Mexican army that lasted for several weeks. The most notable events appear to have been the Coleto Creek and Refugio battles.
James Fannin sent a couple of his men, Capt. Amon B. King and Lt. Colonel William Ward, to evacuate a few families in Refugio to safety so they wouldn't risk being harmed should the Texians come across General Jose de Arrea's army. Unfortunately for King, he found himself surrounded by the Mexicans and asked Fannin to get Ward and the Georgia Battalion to assist him. Urrea, meanwhile, had been warned of their presence and marched 300 more troops to the town in an attempt to overtake the Texians. During the day on March 14th, the Texians found themselves desperately holding out against a determined Urrea and his men; Ward's men had stuck themselves inside the Mission in town, while King's company was largely situated in a stand of trees(where the Refugio Headstone now stands). Both sides suffered heavy casualties and ended with a Mexican victory; Ward had been able to retreat into the night, but King's men were stranded; following his own failed attempt to flee, King and all but one of his men were executed(the Texian who survived, Lewis Ayers, later became a four-term Congressman). Ward, unfortunately, was himself cornered not long afterwards; though they put up a valiant fight, they ended up being surrounded at Lavaca Bay and were forced to surrender themselves, though, at least they were allowed to live, for a time.
Meanwhile, James Fannin had his own problems to deal with; he had to retreat from Goliad when he caught word that Urrea's army was targeting him next. Already weighted down with 500 guns and an extra cannon, Fannin decided to burn off the excess load, in order to make things a little easier on his men. But unfortunately, it was too late; just as Fannin's men were only a mile away from Coleto Creek, the Mexicans ambushed them, and a fierce battle soon unfolded. Despite being unable to penetrate the Texians' position and possibly losing as many as 20 times more men, the Mexicans were able to win the battle, even if only due to the surrender by Col. Fannin; he had been unwilling to leave the wounded behind and was fast running out of water.
Col. Urrea was loyal to Santa Anna, but, surprisingly, he felt that execution was unnecessary, and requested that the government spare them. That request was denied, however and Fannin and his surviving men to be kept in Goliad; William Ward and his company would soon join them. On Saturday, March 26th, the Texians were taken to Fort Defiance and held there; the following day, 342 of the Texians were marched out of the fort and shot point-blank, knifed, or clubbed to death; Ward & Fannin amongst them.
However, though, some either escaped, or were spared; German immigrant, Herman von Ehrenberg, later a California land speculator and Congressman from Pflugerville; and John Duval, later a Senator and novelist, were amongst the more notable survivors.[46]
Despite the Mexican government's unbeaten winning streak since the Battle of the Alamo, that all began to change in April. Santa Anna had originally planned to pursue Sam Houston's using a three-pronged assault plan. However, though, he decided to change his mind after he was informed that the Texian government had just left the Morgan's Point area. Santa Anna personally led a company of about 900 men to try to capture them, but was unsuccessful. However, though, upon receiving intelligence on the whereabouts of Houston's army, Santa Anna then ordered his men to instead head for Lynch's Ferry. And surely enough, both Houston and Seguin were camped there.
On the morning of April 21, Santa Anna received a last minute 500-man reinforcement from Martin Perfecto de Cos, giving him a total of 1,400 men under his command. Cos was placed on his right flank, his cavalrymen on the left, and everything else, including artillery, in the center; and then he sat and waited.
That same day, Sam Houston held an impromptu war council that lasted for about two hours; it is generally accepted that although a majority of his officers originally requested to wait for Santa Anna's first move, Houston himself argued that it was better, in his view, to surprise the Mexicans, over concerns that Santa Anna might be able to gather his currently somewhat scattered army. The council relented, and preparations began. It was a bit of a risky move: Most of the assault would come out over open ground, where the Texians might be particularly vulnerable to Mexican gunfire; adding to the gamble, was Houston's plan of trying to outflank the Mexicans with his own cavalry. However, though, whether or not they knew it at that time, they had a significant advantage; Santa Anna had decided not to post any sentries or skirmishers around his camp; this mistake would later prove to be a very crucial one, indeed.[47]
By 3:30, Houston had formed the desired battle lines behind some trees, and about an hour later, Erastus “Deaf” Smith, announced the destruction of Vince's Bridge; now, neither army could get reinforcements unless they wanted to cross 10-foot-deep water. The Texians then moved quickly and efficiently across the plain, and when they finally came across the Mexican encampment, cries of “Remember Goliad!” and “Remember the Alamo!” could be heard, led by Manuel Flores, Seguin's brother-in-law. During the charge, the Texians fired and fell to the ground, expecting to be cut down by Mexican gunfire, but Flores encouraged them to get back up and yelled “Santa Anna's men are running!”; Thomas Rusk, the Secretary of War, who'd gotten involved early on in the game, shouted, “Don't stop, give 'em hell!” boosting their morale. Regardless, Santa Anna's army began to fall apart, anyway; hundreds of soldiers fled in all directions, trying to get away from the Texians.
The battle proved to be one-sided: only 9 Texians had died, all within the first 15 minutes; the Mexicans, on the other hand, had lost at least 630(some say 700 or more!) of their men.
Santa Anna, though he had initially escaped, couldn't evade his enemies for long, and was eventually captured, and outed by his fellows; Sam Houston, however, decided to spare Santa Anna, instead of having him executed, as what had happened to many Texians.[48a]
A badly humiliated[48b] Santa Anna was forced to sign the Treaties of Velasco, which forced Mexico to withdraw all troops from any territory claimed by Texas, and in exchange for safe passage back to Mexico, was to accept the existence of the new Republic. However, though, Santa Anna was first imprisoned for six months, and, as he feared, was disowned by the Mexican government. After meeting with then-President Andrew Jackson, he returned to Texas and then went back home in early 1837. The Republic of Texas was recognized by the U.S., France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and eventually, the Yucatan Republic.
After Texas won it's independence from Mexico, Juan Seguin was regarded as a war hero; “The Paul Revere of Texas” was the nickname many had for him, particularly due to his actions during and after the loss at the Alamo. He was elected Senator in 1837, and served [snip]
...Although Juan Seguin continued to be regarded as a hero for years afterwards, including a battle with the Comanches alongside Henry Karnes in 1839, Seguin found himself becoming concerned with the direction that Texan politics seemed to be taking; the Republic was being filled to the brim with many North American immigrants, most of whom were unfamiliar with the native Tejanos' or the earlier settlers' history and their loyalty to the country in which they resided. Tensions began to grow between the two parties and Seguin began to have difficulty moderating between the two.
In the spring of 1840, he gave up his Senate seat to help Mexican Federalist Antonio Canales in an abortive campaign against his Centralist rivals, and to support the Republic of the Rio Grande. Canales ultimately failed, however, and Seguin found himself back in Texas in November.
Unfortunately, Seguin had resorted to land speculation and property mortgaging, as well as even some smuggling, to finance his Rio Grande adventure, and had become the object of enmity in the eyes of some; most Anglo Texans, or at least, those who had opinions of any sort, were at least somewhat uncomfortable with wealthy Latino Tejanos, especially those with some political influence like Seguin.
The unfortunate failure of the Santa Fe expedition in 1841 hadn't helped matters one bit; Seguin was almost immediately the target of rumors against him, claiming that he had somehow compromised the mission.
But even despite this, Seguin still managed to win re-election to the mayor's office at the end of 1841, mainly as a token of appreciation for assisting Canales......though this was to be short lived. Life didn't get any easier for him as more Anglos were hostile towards Seguin than before. One of the biggest problems Seguin had to deal with was squatters claiming property that they had no right to take hold of; and, unfortunately, they weren't just squatters, but Anglo squatters. And this complicated things because Seguin had come to understand first hand, that many Anglos didn't like taking orders from wealthy Mexicans(or in a good number of cases, Mexicans at all). Perhaps the biggest nuisance was James Goodman, a man who shoe'd horses for a living; Goodman felt that he was owed compensation for his work and desired to buy a house that was still government property. Seguin, not one to flout the law, had Goodman removed, making him yet another enemy. Tensions began to get bad that winter and Seguin often found himself having to render aid to Tejanos who were suffering persecution at the hands of many of the rowdier Anglos in town; some of it totally unprovoked, and much of it racially motivated.[49]
Seguin had made an honest effort to pay back the money he had lost in his recent adventures, but unfortunately, his problems were soon to start all over again. The revival of some of the rumors of financial improprieties and renewed accusations that he had given the Mexican government advance information about the Santa Fe expedition were starting to take a toll on him.
Things finally came to a head for Seguin when Santa Anna decided to invade Texas in March, 1842. San Antonio was overrun twice by Rafael Vasquez's men; though the first attempt at sacking the city saw Vasquez driven out, Seguin was unable to stop them the second time, and in a stunning turn of events, Vasquez attempted to turn the Anglo Texians against him by claiming that he was still yet a loyal subject of Santa Anna's, his mayorship of San Antonio notwithstanding. Unfortunately for Seguin, Vasquez's plan worked. Following the threats on his life, he left San Antonio in April, along with most of his remaining supporters, including his sister-in-law and a few others; they went to Gonzales, and Seguin himself decided to go southwards to Mexico. Unfortunately for him, he was arrested soon after his arrival and forced to make a choice: Either spend the next several years in a Mexican jail or join the army. And because he feared that a prison term might leave his family in Gonzales with no-one to provide for them, he ultimately relented and decided to serve in Santa Anna's army, and fight with conviction....[snip]
"...I was a victim of the cowardice and wickedness of a few men... a foreigner in my native land; could I be expected to stoically endure their outrages and insults? I sought for shelter amongst those against whom I fought; I had become divorced from my country, and separated from parents, family, relatives and friends, and what was more, from the institutions, on behalf which I had fought valiantly and honorably, with an earnest wish to see Texas free and happy."[50] - Juan N. Seguin, in his memoirs, July, 1857.
***
[31]A reference to another TL of mine I've been bouncing around. It doesn't have a concrete name yet, but you may have seen his name on the “Alternate Presidents” thread.....
[32]Indeed, Seguin will play a major role in the history of the region later on even more than IOTL.
[33]And indeed, not known to us IOTL.
[34]Especially Sam Houston. This will prove to be crucial later on.
[35]At about this time IOTL(late 1940's-early '50s), Bastrop was a tiny town of maybe 2,500 denizens.....about a tenth of TTL's Bastrop.
[36]Dickinson, sadly, died in the battle of the Alamo. Launcelot Smither survived, and, ITTL, had one last son with his wife, named Arthur in 1842(insert Knights of the Round Table joke here, if you'd like).
[37]Not to be confused with OTL's Occupy San Antonio.....
[38]There actually IS a real Burleson, btw: It's just south of Fort Worth.
[39]Somervell, too, had an entire county named after him.
[40]Evoking the Boers, I'd say.
[41]Although many of these were latet wiped out by the fantastic failure at San Jacinto.
[42]It's Shackelford County IOTL.
[43]Sadly, even this couldn't save him from the later ridicule and intimidation by the more prejudiced sections of Anglo Society.
[44]IOTL, even the cold snap of 1899 didn't quite bring that much snow to the region. Even more impressive is that both events occurred in the middle of February, close to the end of winter(and in South Texas it might as well be spring in an average year1).
[45a]Which, of course, they never got any such thing as “clemency” from the likes of Santa Anna.
[45b]Yes, Santa Anna really did say this, according to the Seguin family website.
[46]Ehrenberg had a town in Ariz. Named after him, IOTL. The same general thing happens later on ITTL but it's not in *Arizona....
[47]And what if he had? It's a question that many historians, from that part of the U.S., and a few alternative history writers would ask for many decades to come.
[48a]Houston, despite whatever faults he may have had, was, at least, honorable. This would serve him well later in his life.
[48b]Santa Anna, however, would never forgive what he saw as the greatest betrayal of the Mexican Republic, and would in due time, exact his revenge.....
[49]You gotta wonder what would have happened if a Rodney King type incident had occurred here. Can you say, San Antonio '42, anyone?
[50]This is a slightly modified version of an OTL quote from Senor Seguin, with apologies and thanks to the folks at Texas A & M.
***
This is an excerpt from “Lipinsky's Election Encyclopedia, 12th Edition: 1804-1996”. Authored by Norman Lipinsky, Jr. © 1997, Lipinsky Bros. Publishing, Naperville. Ill.
The Election of 1840
The 1840 election would be looked back on as one of the most controversial ones in the entire history of the United States, perhaps on par even with 1824's fiasco.[51]
Martin Van Buren, though not exactly universally unpopular, had had to deal with more than his fair share of criticism, particularly over his handling of the Panic of 1837, and to some voters, the Whigs were looking more and more palatable every day. But despite Van Buren's lack of enthusiastic support, however, the Democrats had little choice but to re-nominate him for the Presidency; nobody else in the party was willing to volunteer for the candidacy at the time. And then there was the brand-new anti-slavery Liberty Party, which had some promising potential as a wild card that might be able to help swing the election either way.....
There were 2 other contenders for the Presidency in 1840:
William Henry Harrison, hero of the War of 1812, and the first governor of the Indiana Territory, was riding on the tide of discontentment which had swollen up from the failed policies of the Jackson administration, and due to his increasing popularity, as well as his promising stances on fixing the economy and dealing with Mexico, and not to mention the distrust of his chief rival Henry Clay by many in the Whig Party hierarchy, won the nomination for the Whig Party's candidacy and set out to prove his worth to the American people, and several famous slogans, such as “Tippecanoe and Tyler, too”, were born out of their campaign.
James G.[Gillespie] Birney, of the aforementioned Liberty Party, had had a rather interesting background: he was born in Kentucky in 1792 to an Irish immigrant, who became an affluent planter in Mercer County, and had lost his mother at a young age, to be raised by an aunt who'd come over from Scotland. Birney was close to his father but had become anti-slavery from a young age, including from a Baptist minister named David Barrow, whom Birney regarded as a major influence amongst those outside his family. He also became good friends with future Vice-President George M. Dallas, and in 1815, while working as a lawyer, worked for Henry Clay when he was running for Congress, and he was then a Democratic-Republican. As his interest in politics deepened, so did his questioning of the Peculiar Institution. He later became mayor of Huntsville, Alabama, and also became a major supporter of the American Colonization Society. However, though, Birney became increasingly troubled about the thought of his children coming of age in a slave state and moved back to Danville, in 1832.
Birney's final turn towards abolitionism occurred in 1834 after correspondence with Theodore Weld, a preacher who organized the Lane Seminary debates. After a series of unfortunate events while living in Cincinnati, he decided to uproot his family and move to New York after joining the American Anti-Slavery Society. And during the spring of 1840, the Liberty Party came into existence in New York. Though Birney predicted that he wouldn't win, he sought to make an impact, anyway; armed with the money of the Tappan brothers, his expertise in the printing business, and a newly-former grassroots campaign, the infant Liberty Party bravely trotted forward and 1840 was to be the first of its many campaigns.....
***
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
1840 was, without a doubt, one of the toughest election seasons in U.S. History. Martin Van Buren, though not exactly popular by this point, was a man who had begun to reshape his image and rethink many of his past policies. His opponent, William Henry Harrison, was riding a tide of discontentment that had occurred in the wake of the disastrous crash of 1837, and had begun to take a proto-populist approach[51], making Van Buren's job even tougher....
During the first half of the election season, Van Buren's campaign struggled to make ends meet, while William Harrison's fortunes continued in a favorable direction, and for a while, it was thought by some that he'd be a shoo-in for the Presidency. However, though, the Harrison campaign would eventually run into a few problems later on, and problems, that Van Buren would capitalize on, in nearly every case.
John Tyler, in particular, though stately in mannerisms and appearance, would later become the centerpiece of gossip for many people, especially in the North, through a series of unfortunate events, including some which may have seriously jeopardized the Harrison campaign, by themselves.
The first of what was to be several scandals, occurred in June of 1840, when it was revealed that Tyler, following the death of his first wife, Letitia Christian, on December 27th of the previous year, married Julia Gardiner, a woman many years his junior and a friend of his son Robert's wife, Priscilla, in late April, only 4 months after Letitia's passing. It did cause some chiding to be directed towards President Tyler, though this controversy was rather minor compared to others that would follow over the next few months.....
***
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
1840 was, without a doubt, one of the toughest election seasons in U.S. History. Martin Van Buren, though not exactly popular by this point, was a man who had begun to reshape his image and rethink many of his past policies. His opponent, William Henry Harrison, was riding a tide of discontentment that had occurred in the wake of the disastrous crash of 1837, and had begun to take a proto-populist approach[51], making Van Buren's job even tougher....
During the first half of the election season, Van Buren's campaign struggled to make ends meet, while William Harrison's fortunes continued in a favorable direction, and for a while, it was thought by some that he'd be a shoo-in for the Presidency. However, though, the Harrison campaign would eventually run into a few problems later on, and problems, that Van Buren would capitalize on, in nearly every case[52].
John Tyler, in particular, though stately in mannerisms and appearance, would later become the centerpiece of gossip for many people, especially in the North, through a series of unfortunate events, including some which may have seriously jeopardized the Harrison campaign, by themselves.
The first of what was to be several scandals, occurred in June of 1840, when it was revealed that Tyler, following the death of his first wife, Letitia Christian, on December 27th of the previous year, married Julia Gardiner, a woman many years his junior[53] and a friend of his son Robert's wife, Priscilla, in late April, only 4 months after Letitia's passing. It did cause some chiding to be directed towards President Tyler, though this controversy was rather minor compared to others that would follow over the next few months.
In late July, it was discovered that Tyler had personally paid several newspapers to run fake “editorials” supposedly “revealing” things about James G. Birney that were purely intended to slander the man after the two came across each other during their respective rallies in Cincinnati, Ohio, in early June, over an argument about slavery. An embarrassed Harrison tried to cover up the scandal and he himself bribed several of the country's biggest newspapers to keep them quiet, though one paper in Philadelphia still ran with it anyway, even with the bribe.
Things didn't really begin to unravel until towards the end of the summer for the Harrison campaign, but when they did, it eventually became a non-stop domino train of gaffes and blunders of all sorts.
Tragically, the cascade may have started when John Tyler learned that his eldest daughter Mary's husband, Henry Lightfoot Jones, had died of yellow fever in mid-August, and Mary, who had just given birth to twins, Robert Tyler, and Letitia Marie, that June, was herself getting rather ill[53]. The children had been moved into the care of her brother Robert, by request of Mary herself.
John Tyler had taken a bit of a liking to Henry Jones and was a bit hard-hit by his death, not to mention the prospect of losing his daughter as well. At a Whig Party meeting, in Richmond on August 21st, before he was to speak, he ended up partaking of a little too much drink in the parlor room. His speech, a rather short one, went fine, but when the questions started to be asked, some of his responses were a bit interesting[54], to say the least....
*
Quotes by John Tyler, Aug. 21st, 1840.
“Planters are people, too, my friend.”-In response to a question, and following remark, made by an anti-slavery fellow Whig.[54a]
“I'm not troubled by the concerns of the poor. Let the good Lord take care of 'em.”-Tyler's response to a question of what to do with the poorest Americans, particularly those families hardest hit by the Panic of '37. [54b]
“Now, I do wish, as much as anyone, that Martin Van Buren had been a successful leader, because surely, is it not true that we all wish for America to succeed? It is not so? But Van Buren has failed us, my friends; his policies have given way to disappointment and financial desolation. We cannot accept failure from our leaders. We must not. And that's why my colleague, William Harrison, is the man for the job. Because he knows how to achieve things, and achieve them well. And goddamn, am I proud of ol' Tippecanoe.....”[54c]
*
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
…..Tyler's semi-inebriated ramblings during the Richmond convention, surprisingly, did little to harm his standing amongst his more enthusiastic supporters; unfortunately, however, many other Whigs were somewhat alienated from him, and a mollified William Harrison had to deal with yet more bad press; Harrison later decided to keep Tyler under the spotlight, hoping to avoid any more incidents.
Meanwhile, Van Buren's hadn't been exactly been mistake & controversy free, either: Some of his disdainful remarks towards certain fellow Democrats whom he had a dislike for hadn't sat well with some, especially many moderates. He was also reproached by Jacksonians for what seemed to be a lack of willingness to stand by his old beliefs, and began to lose quite a bit of support in the South, especially Virginia and the Carolinas, Jackson's home turf.....[55]
*
This excerpt was taken from “1840: The Election That Shaped 19th Century America”, by Donald J. Epperson. (c) 1977 Altona Press, Denver, Colo.
By the end of September, both campaigns were fiercely neck-and-neck, with neither side really gaining much over the other. However, though, one trend began to become rather noticeable; Van Buren's support was solidifying amongst Northerners, while Harrison was becoming more and more dependent on the South to carry him to the White House. However, though, there would be one last blunder on the part of John Tyler that might have help seal his running mate's fate[56a].
During Harrison's last major Upper South campaign run in Baltimore on October 7th, Tyler was walking towards a hostel where he was to be staying, when he spotted a younger man on a corner on Conway Street passing out flyers. Tyler inquired as to the nature of the material, and the younger man showed him; Tyler became immediately dismayed to find out that this was campaign material for the Liberty Party. He began to behave in a somewhat bullish manner towards the man, who politely asked Tyler to leave him be. Tyler instead became more aggressive, and the other man, now slightly irritated, asked him to leave him alone again; Tyler took that as a sign of disrespect and then pushed the younger man slightly. He, in turn, had responded with a few obscenities, and that's when a now enraged Tyler took a hard left look and punched the other man squarely on the temple. Tyler had to be restrained by his entourage, who had been at a nearby cafe just across the street, before he did any worse damage to the man. This incident was to be forever known as the Baltimore Scandal, and Tyler became the first Vice-Presidential candidate to spend time in prison, even though it was only until the next morning.[56b]
Upon hearing of this, William Harrison requested that Tyler retire from the campaign trail and go home to be with his family, which Tyler reluctantly obliged[56c]. Harrison, meanwhile, struggled to maintain his image with voters, particularly many of those up north, who'd grown weary of his running mate.
Martin Van Buren, meanwhile, made one last rush to Missouri and Arkansas on the 20th, hoping to regain support from prospective voters in those states, having neglected the West for some time; to his relief, the last-minute blitz actually worked, as his opponent had never gone west of the Mississippi at all.....[57]
As the election drew to a close, it was already apparent to many that neither side had much of an advantage over the other and that the results were bound to be a close call; that prediction was looked upon in later years as understated; in a few states, the race was so close, that recounts were requested to ensure no mistakes in the results; in fact, Pennsylvania ballots were all recounted, twice! To be sure, both sides had their fingers crossed, and the fact that James G. Birney's dark horse Liberty Party had had a quite remarkable & impressive showing during the season, only complicated matters....[58a]
The popular vote was seemingly too close to call, so the Electoral College met in late November, and many hoped it would bring an end to the season. There was, however, a major problem: by an amazing statistical coincidence, both of the candidates had received 147 electoral votes, exactly. What truly complicated the matter is that both candidates had also won 13 states; and neither side was willing to budge as all 26 delegates voted with their party. This presented a truly major problem for Congress because both of the built-in failsafe measures hadn't worked as hoped, and tensions were starting to build up in both parties, and accusations started to fly. However, though, it was eventually decided to fall back on the popular vote to see who would be elected President that year....[58b]
After the votes were counted, the results were eventually made public. Although Harrison had put up a remarkably valiant fight, John Tyler's several gaffes, some of his own blunders, and an expected showing for James G. Birney had ultimately done too much harm to his campaign.[59]
….Despite the odds against him, Martin Van Buren had won the 1840 election by just 8,000 votes[60], and was therefore re-elected for a second term in the White House, to the disappointment of not just many Whigs, but many Jacksonian Democrats as well, who felt as if they'd been backstabbed by Van Buren[61].
Whatever the case, this election was sure to be about as controversial, and influential as 1824 had been for many years to come; not only did it help kickstart the trend of the North-South political divide[62a], but it even inspired a proposal for a new Constitutional Amendment[62b].....
[51] For sure.
[52]Probably should have done more of this IOTL.
[53]Can you say, 'Redenbacher', anyone?
[54]Yup.
[54a], [54b], [54c]-All based on Mitt Romney quotes, by the way. Bonus points if you can find which ones.
[55] Especially since he started turning away from Jacksonian policy.
[56a]No pun intended.
[56b]Shades of Preston Brooks/Charles Sumner, if you know what I mean.....
[56c]After all, he did have a dying daughter to attend to.....
[57]Dunno if this happened IOTL, as well.
[58a], [58b] Try to imagine what could have happened in 2012 if Obama and Romney had tied.
[59]Betcha you didn't see that coming, didja?
[60]I don't think any OTL election ever cut it this close outside of Gore vs. Bush in 2000.
[61]This is only the beginning, ladies and gentlemen. Van Buren is about to start ditching the Jacksonians altogether pretty soon.
[62a]Not that there weren't already some differences but the 1840 election is going to make that a lot worse.
[62b]This will be revealed later on, so stay tuned.
And I'll even throw in the Easter Special for ya:
**
Intermission #1: An Easter Reflection.
Kinderhook, New York
Apr. 11th, 1841
Martin Van Buren was glad to be back in his hometown after a dreadfully tiring year of electioneering. Having won another term in office, Van Buren hoped that he'd be warmly welcomed back here for the Easter celebrations. To his relief, he was; in fact, even some local Whigs had turned up.
“So, Mr. President,” said one of the patrons, “what'cha gonna do about the economy?”
“I've done some thinking,” said the President, “and I now realize that Jackson had it all wrong. We do need a national bank to help keep our economy running smoothly.”
“Will you curb the influence of the bankers?”, asked another man.
“Yes, I shall.” replied the President. “The Founders did warn us against allowing monied interests to dominate our government, and I now realize that I was foolish to follow in Jackson's footsteps in that regard.”
“What about Texas?”, inquired a short and pale Dutchman.
“Well, to be honest with you, I believe we ought to wait and see if the situation resolves itself. But if that little would-be Napoleon in Mexico, Santa Anna, starts to make any foolish moves, he'll be the first to understand that no one trifles with America without a fight. Because to fool with America, is to tempt fate itself.”, said Van Buren, with applause from the crowd.
“Alright, but what about the slavers?”, said the first man.
Van Buren replied,”We can encourage more Yankees to settle westward, to counter any possibility of a slaver-dominated Texas. I believe some of you may have heard of a man named Lysander Spooner?”
“Yes, I do recall,”, said the second man, “A cousin of mine told me about him and that he was going to Texas to join his party. And from what he's been telling me, they seem to be doing mighty fine down there, thus far.”
“Then we can use the success of Spooner's colony as an example.”, said the President, 'And hope that the colony doesn't get razed by angry planters, Santa Anna, or the Indians in the meantime', he thought silently.
“Sounds good to me,”, said the Dutchman, “I've been itching for some adventure already.”.
“Yeah, if you can survive crazy slaver lynch mobs, Mexicans with a grudge, and Indian arrows flying at you, I'd say you'd be good to go then.”, said the first man, eliciting chuckles from several men in the room, himself included.
15 minutes later, the bartender brought drinks to the table where Van Buren and several other men, including the three he'd just conversed with; they toasted each other, and then the others broke out in song:
“For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), which nobody can deny
Which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny
For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow (pause), which nobody can deny!”
“Congratulations, Mr. President!”, they all cheered. Van Buren smiled, feeling redeemed at last. The minute he got back to Washington, he'd start changing things for good.
*
Somewhere in Virginia
April 11, 1841
John Tyler was a man going through the worst days of his life; first he lost his son-in-law to yellow fever. Then he was humiliated by James G. Birney, and the whippersnapper in Baltimore, and abandoned by the Whig Party, and now had to deal with the loss of his beloved daughter, Mary. As he kneeled at the graves of Mary and her husband Henry, he uttered a short prayer, and then after he was done, began to turn away. And as he started off for home, he began to wonder: 'Perhaps someone's trying to tell me something. Maybe, just maybe, I need to think about what I've done and said this past year and a half and reflect on it, and perhaps, dare I say it, make amends for my sins and errors.'. And with that, Tyler began put his thoughts into serious consideration.....
*
North Bend, Ohio
April 4, 1841
William Henry Harrison was not necessarily the happiest man in America, but neither was he depressed, either: he did love living in North Bend, and with his family. And watching the younger children of his son John Scott at play pleased him, and served to comfort him against the defeat of a lifetime. Sitting on the front porch, he sipped some old hard cider that he'd bought from a store a few miles out of town. 'At least I still have my cabin, and my family. A content man, I certainly am.', he thought to himself, ironically. Indeed, what more could one want?
*
There you go. Hope you like it, because there's more to come.
Edit: Also, the map of the 1840 elections-