DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and I wouldn't change a word. September 29, 1835 — remember that date — right here on this very ground, the people of Gonzales did something that takes a certain kind of nerve. They buried a cannon.
Now, why would you bury a cannon? Because 150 Mexican Dragoons had been sent to demand it, that's why. One hundred and fifty soldiers, riding to collect a single cannon.
You'd think the smart play was to hand it over and call it a day. But Gonzales didn't see it that way. They put that cannon in the ground, right here, on what was known as George W.
Davis Peach Orchard. Peaceful name for a place that was fixing to become something else entirely. The Dragoons came, the Dragoons looked, and the Dragoons left without what they came for.
Now here's where the story takes a turn. Two days later — two days — that cannon came back up out of the earth. They mounted it on ox-cart wheels.
And if that isn't a detail that tells you everything about the resourcefulness of the people involved, consider what they loaded into it: chains and scrap iron. Whatever was laying around. And then they fired it at the Mexican Army.
That shot — that rattling, clanging, improvised, buried-and-resurrected shot — was the first shot of the Texas Revolution. It started right here, in a peach orchard.
What the marker says
On this site September 29, 1835 the Gonzales cannon was buried from the 150 Mexican Dragoons sent to Demand it. Two days later it was mounted on ox-cart wheels, loaded with chains and scrap iron, and fired at the Mexican Army, the first shot of the Revolution. This location was known as George W. Davis Peach Orchard.