Juan Seguin (2 page)

Don Erasmo stood up and walked over to a window. He looked out at a pasture where cattle were grazing.

“How did you know you would become friends with Pablo?” Don Erasmo pointed at me as I stood in a corner of the room. “You gave him a chance, and he proved to you that he was your friend. We need to give these Americans a chance. I believe they’ll prove to be our friends.”

“When are they coming?” Juan asked.

Don Erasmo picked up a piece of paper from his desk. “This is a letter from Stephen Austin. He should be arriving here this afternoon.”

“Stephen Austin? I thought his name was Moses.”

“That was Stephen’s father. He passed away a short time ago. Stephen is taking his place.”

Juan got up to leave. I started to open the door when Don Erasmo spoke once again. “When Mr. Austin gets here, I want you to be polite to him. We should never judge others until we give them a chance to prove themselves to us.”

“Yes, Father,” Juan said. I opened the door and we walked outside.

We walked over to the corral and watched the horses eating hay. After a few moments of silence, Juan looked at me.

“What do you think about these Americans, Pablo?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Juan. I’ve never met an American. The governor and your father seem to approve of them, so I think we should give them a chance, as your father said.”

Juan turned and looked out over the vast prairies. He watched a hawk circling slowly overhead.

“They’re probably right. It’s just that I love this land. This Texas. I want people who come here to love it too. Someday I’ll have a family, and I want them to be able to be as happy as I’ve been. I understand that we need people living in this land. So I’ll do as my father says. I’ll give them a chance. Who knows? Maybe I’ll like this Stephen Austin better than you.”

Juan pushed me, then ran across the yard. I chased after him throwing dirt clods at him as he ran.

* * *

Later that day, Juan and I were sitting under a tree when we saw a rider coming slowly toward the house. We got up and walked into the middle of the yard. The rider stopped his horse next to us. He was a rather tall, slender man. His brown hair blew in the breeze.

“Hello,” he said. “My name’s Stephen Austin. I’m looking for Mr. Erasmo Seguin. Can you tell me where I can find him?”

Juan pointed toward the house. “My father’s in the house. I’m Juan Seguin. This is my friend, Pablo. Follow me and I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” Austin said as he dismounted and tied his horse to a hitching post.

I followed Juan as he led Austin into the house. Don Erasmo looked up from his desk as we walked into the room.

“Father, this is Mr. Stephen Austin. Mr. Austin, this is my father, Don Erasmo Seguin.”

I watched as the two men shook hands. Don Erasmo pointed to a chair and Austin sat down.

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Austin. Did you have a good trip? Would you like some cool water?”

“Thank you. That would be good. It wasn’t too bad. It’s a long way from Missouri to Texas. The people who came with me are resting a few miles down the road.”

“How many came with you?” Don Erasmo asked.

“Three hundred. I believe they’re all good people. You’ll like having them as neighbors.”

“I hope so. There have been others who have received permission to come here and start a colony.” Don Erasmo pointed to some papers on his desk. “You are the first of many who are coming to Texas. I want to welcome you on behalf of the governor.”

“Thank you, sir. We’re happy to be in this beautiful land. Now if you will tell me where my colony will be, I’ll get the people moved to their new home.”

Don Erasmo turned to Juan and me. We had been standing by the door listening to the two men talk.

“Juan, you and Pablo take Mr. Austin and his friends to the land we picked out for them.”

“Yes, Father.” Juan turned to Austin. “Follow me, Mr. Austin.”

We got our horses as Austin climbed into his saddle.

“That is a fine-looking horse, Mr. Austin. Would you like to race?”

Without waiting for an answer, Juan galloped his horse down the road. I followed him as quickly as I could while Stephen Austin tried to keep up.

It was dark before we got Austin’s settlers to their new lands. After making sure they were settled in, Juan and I started back for
Casa Blanca
. The sky was filled with stars, and the full moon bathed the land with a soft light. After riding in silence for a few miles, I looked at Juan.

“Juan, why do you always have to be so competitive with everyone?”

“What do you mean, Pablo?”

“The first time I saw you, you said you could ride better than me. You’re always saying things like that to people. Today you raced Mr. Austin. You had just met him. Why do you do those things?”

Juan rode in silence for several minutes. Only the sound of the horses’ hooves striking the road disturbed the stillness of the night. At last I heard him take a deep breath.

“I don’t know that I can give you a good reason, Pablo. I’ve always wanted to be the best at everything I do. I don’t want to make anyone mad. I just like to show people I’m as good as they are.”

“You are as good as anyone. I don’t know of anybody who can ride like you. You are a good person, Juan. Just be yourself and people will like you for it.”

“Maybe you’re right, Pablo. I’ll try and just get along with people. It’s getting late. Come on. I bet I can beat you back to the ranch.”

* * *

The following years were busy for us. Austin’s colony was successful. The people set up farms and ranches, and small towns began to appear around the countryside. Stephen Austin became friends with Don Erasmo and Juan. He often spent the night at
Casa Blanca
when he was passing through the neighborhood. Other colonists followed the original three hundred. Soon there were American settlements springing up all over the land. The Mexican government welcomed these new colonists at first, but as more and more Americans came to Texas news that the government was becoming concerned began to be heard in the colonies.

Don Erasmo became more involved in the governing of the colonies. He was a delegate to the congress in Mexico City that wrote the Constitution of 1824. This document put most of the colonization issues in the hands of the state governments.

Juan had grown into a fine young man, and helped his mother run the post office and the rancho while his father was away. This gave Juan a taste of public service at a young age.

Sometimes we would visit Stephen Austin at his home in San Felipe. We would spend many hours talking with him about the United States and about his dreams for Texas. We both liked Stephen Austin. We wished that all the new settlers could be like him.

Juan also became friends with a wealthy man who lived in San Antonio named Juan de Veramendi. Mr. Veramendi was active in local government, and he and Juan spent many hours talking about what was happening in Texas. They were worried that there was going to be trouble between Mexico and the new Texans.

One day we were meeting in Mr. Veramendi’s home. There was a knock on the door and one of Mr. Veramendi’s servants answered the knock. Soon he came back into the room followed by an American.

“Excuse me, Mr. Veramendi,” the servant said. “This gentleman has come to see you. He brings a letter of introduction with him from Mr. Stephen Austin. His name is James Bowie.”

At the sound of his name we all looked at the man standing in the center of the room. He was a large man who gave the appearance of strength. Our eyes were drawn to the knife that hung from his belt. We had all heard of Jim Bowie and his famous knife. Mr. Veramendi stood and walked over to Bowie. The two men shook hands.

“Mr. Bowie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve all heard of you, and I want to welcome you to my home. This is Juan Seguin and his friend Pablo.”

Bowie shook our hands. His grip was strong. Juan could not keep his eyes off of the famous knife. I saw Juan feel the knife that hung by his own side. It looked small in comparison with Bowie’s knife.

“Mr. Bowie, do you mind if I hold your knife?”

I held my breath when Juan asked the question. I had heard stories of the terrible temper that Jim Bowie had. I did not know if he would be offended by Juan’s request.

Bowie slowly pulled the knife from its scabbard and held the handle toward Juan.

“Here you go. Be careful. It’s very sharp. And call me Jim.”

Juan took the knife and held it in front of him. He made a few cutting motions in the air. He smiled and returned the knife to Bowie.

“That’s a fine knife, Jim. I know your reputation as a great knife fighter. I’m not going to tell you that I’m a better knife fighter than you.”

I laughed, as Jim looked a little puzzled. Mr. Veramendi handed the letter from Stephen Austin back to Bowie.

“Mr. Austin is very impressed with you. I respect his opinion. I want to visit with you, but at the moment I must attend to some government matters. Juan, will you take Mr. Bowie and show him where he can find a place to stay? Mr. Bowie, there is a dance tonight in the plaza. Please come. We can talk there.”

Bowie walked out the door as Mr. Veramendi grabbed Juan’s arm. I heard him whisper to Juan.

“Take good care of Mr. Bowie. If things happen as we think they will, we will need many men like him.”

That evening, Juan and I sat at a table talking to Jim Bowie. The night air was filled with the sound of guitars, fiddles, and laughter. The food was good and our plates were piled high. Juan took a bite of a tamale and looked at Jim.

“So you’re here looking for land?”

“That’s right. We heard back in Louisiana that Texas had plenty of land and that the price was very reasonable. So my friends and I came out here to take a look.”

“You heard correctly, Jim. There is a lot of land. And the price is not high. There could be a problem though.”

Jim put down his fork. “What kind of problem?”

Juan looked around to make sure no one was listening. “The government in Mexico is beginning to be worried about all the Americans coming to Texas. They’re afraid that the settlers will want to separate from Mexico and join the United States. So the government is making it more difficult for Americans to own land.”

Jim leaned back in his chair and stared at his plate. “That doesn’t sound good. Are you telling me my friends and I can’t get land here?”

Juan shook his head. “Not at all. There are always ways around things. Mr. Veramendi is a very important person. I hear he’s going to be appointed vice-governor of the province. He’ll be able to assist you in getting some land.”

“Why would he help me get land?”

Juan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Jim, things are not going well between the government of Mexico and Texas. I’m including the native Texans such as myself in the group. If it comes down to war with the government, we’ll need men like you. Will you be willing to stand with us?”

“Juan, I came to Texas to get some land and start a new life. Not get involved in a war. Besides, it seems to me you would want to support the government of Mexico against these new settlers.”

“Jim, I’ve never been to Mexico. I’m a Texan. This is my home. I’m willing to fight to protect what I have here. I think any man should be willing to fight for what he loves. I know you’ve just arrived in Texas. After you’ve been here awhile, I think you’ll believe that Texas is worth fighting for too.”

Jim watched the people dancing. Finally he turned to Juan.

“Thank you for telling me this. I never have liked people telling me what I can and can’t do. That’s one reason I came here. To get away from too many rules. If it comes down to it, you can count on me to do what I can to support Texas. Besides, I want to be on your side.”

Juan smiled. “Good, Jim. Look, here comes Mr. Veramendi. Come on, Pablo, let’s let them talk in private.”

Juan and I walked away as Mr. Veramendi sat down at the table with Jim. Juan smiled as we watched the dancers.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked.

“Because, Pablo, with people like Jim Bowie on our side, I think the future of Texas looks very bright.”

* * *

The next few years were exciting for everyone in Texas. New settlers kept coming in and the government of Mexico began to make harsher laws to govern them. The new settlers ignored most of the laws and carried on their lives as they pleased. Mexico City was far away, and there was no one to enforce the laws. Juan was elected alcalde, or mayor of San Antonio. His father continued to be involved in politics. Jim married the daughter of Mr. Veramendi. They were very happy, and Jim was able to obtain a great deal of land with the assistance of Mr. Veramendi.

Some of the new settlers began to openly campaign for the separation of Texas from Mexico. Among the leaders of this group was a young man who had just come to Texas from South Carolina. His name was William Barret Travis.

Travis and his followers took delight in publicly disobeying the laws. They tried to force the authorities to react to them. Juan was concerned that Travis and his men would force a showdown with the government of Mexico before Texas was ready. Then word came that Mexico had a new president. The name of the new president was Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna.

Juan and I sat at the table while Don Erasmo paced the floor. The political situation in Texas had been growing steadily worse since Santa Anna had taken over as president of Mexico. Stephen Austin had gone to Mexico City to try and talk to the government, but he had been placed in prison for over a year and had just recently been released. The war party was calling for a revolution to separate Texas from Mexico. Don Erasmo did not favor Santa Anna. He wanted the Constitution of 1824 to be restored, but he was unsure about having Texas separate from Mexico. As we sat there someone knocked on the door. Soon a servant led Stephen Austin into the room. Austin had always been slender, but he had lost a lot of weight during his year in the prison. Don Erasmo rushed to him and shook his hand. He led him to a chair.