Gone to Texas by Don Worcester Page B

Morelos replied. “It can’t be a trap. We’ll do as he says. The castle is worth much risk.” Ellis frowned, but said nothing more.
    On the night of February 7 Morelos marched six hundred men to Las Iguanas, which overlooked the grim fortress. He split the troops into two divisions, one under Avila, the other under Ellis. “We’ll do as he directed,” Ellis said to Morelos, "but I request permission to place my men as I see fit.”
    Morelos agreed. They waited, straining their eyes at the castle, but midnight came and still no light appeared. “He lied,” Avila yawned."We might as well give up.”
    â€œHave patience,” Morelos said. “Let’s wait a little longer.”
    About four in the morning, Ellis saw a small, faint light over the castle. “There it is!” he exclaimed, and the others stared as the tiny light slowly rose to the top of the flagpole.
    â€œGet into position,” Morelos ordered.
    Ellis marched his division to the side of the castle opposite the place Gago had told them to assemble. Avila and his men waited at a distance as a reserve. Ellis sent a man to inform Gago that they were in position by the drawbridge.
    â€œWatch what happens now,” he told his men. All flinched and held their ears when a tremendous roar went up and the earth trembled as fifty cannon fired on the space by the drawbridge. The cannon continued to shower the spot with grapeshot for half an hour, while Ellis, Avila, and their men withdrew into the mountains.
    â€œIf we’d been where he wanted us,” Ellis told Morelos, “not one of us would be alive.”
    â€œWe’ll return the favor one day,” Morelos said grimly. “I hope it’s soon.”
    From the heights of Las Iguanas, they bombarded the castle for nine days with the cannon captured at Tres Palos. The following morning, a large force Carreño had sent during the night charged the insurgents and captured all but one artillery piece. Morelos hastily withdrew to the village of El Veladero, which was higher and more easily defended, but the loss of four cannon hurt.
    In the first week of May, Morelos left Avila holding El Veladero and marched toward the little town of Chilpancingo, a key point on the road to Mexico City. On the way, a mounted scout galloped up. “The royalists are coming this way,” he said. “We should meet them in the morning.”
    Morelos and Ellis rode ahead, looking for a defensive position. They found a deep ravine with steep sides that could be crossed only in a few places. Early the next morning, Morelos placed his army there, and they soon saw the royalists approaching in the distance. He sent Ellis with three hundred men on a roundabout march through the woods. Out of sight of the royalists, they crossed the ravine and waited until the two armies clashed, then charged the enemy rear. The royalists panicked and fled, while the rebels crossed the ravine as quickly as they could in pursuit. Many of them were Indians, who had centuries of grievances to avenge against all Spaniards. They pursued the royalists as far as they could run, hacking at them with machetes. Ellis overtook them on horseback.
    â€œCapture them, don’t kill them,” he shouted, but few heeded him. As he knew, captured royalists might be exchanged for rebel prisoners.
    The next day the rebels entered Chilpancingo, which surrendered without resistance. Morelos soon heard that a royalist force was preparing to move against Avila at Veladero, and sent Ellis with fifty mounted men to reconnoiter. The royalists were camped ten miles away, but had made no threatening move. At El Veladero, Ellis learned from an Acapulco woman that Governor Carreno was leading an attack on a rebel stronghold south of the town.
    With reinforcements from El Veladero, Ellis hastened to the rescue. He prepared an Indian-style ambush where the road wound through bluffs, then sent a small force