Remember the Alamo

  CHAPTER XVI. THE LOADSTONE IN THE BREAST.

  "But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard. The thanks of millions yet to be,"

  "Who battled for the true and just,

  "And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance.

  "And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees."

  The memorial of wrongs, which resulted in the Declaration of TexanIndependence, was drawn up with statesmanlike ability by David G.Burnett, a native of New Jersey, a man of great learning, dignity, andexperience; who, as early as 1806, sailed from New York to join Mirandain his effort to give Spanish America liberty. The paper need not bequoted here. It gave the greatest prominence to the refusal of trialby jury, the failure too establish a system of public education, thetyranny of military law, the demand that the colonists should give uparms necessary for their protection or their sustenance, the incitingof the Indians to massacre the American settlers, and the refusal ofthe right to worship the Almighty according to the dictates of theirown consciences. Burnett was elected Governor, and Houston felt that hecould now give his whole attention to military affairs.

  The seat of Government was removed to Harrisburg, a small place on theBuffalo Bayou; and Houston was sure that this change would cause SantaAnna to diverge from his route to Nacogdoches. He dispatched orders tothe men scattered up and down the Brazos from Washington to Fort Bend--adistance of eighty miles--to join him on the march to Harrisburg, and hestruck his own camp at the time he had specified.

  In less than twenty-four hours they reached San Felipe, a distance oftwenty-eight miles. The suffering of the women and children on thatmarch can never be told. Acts of heroism on the part of the men and offortitude on the part of the women that are almost incredible, markedevery step of the way. The Senora sat in her wagon, speechless, and lostin a maze of melancholy anguish. She did not seem to heed want, orcold, or wet, or the utter misery of her surroundings. Her soulhad concentrated all its consciousness upon the strand of hair shecontinually smoothed through her fingers. Dr. Worth, in his capacity ofphysician, accompanied the flying families, and he was thus able to paysome attention to his distraught wife; but she answered nothing he saidto her. If she looked at him, her eyes either flamed with anger, orexpressed something of the terror to be seen in the eyes of a huntedanimal. It was evident that her childish intelligence had seized uponhim as the most obvious cause of all her loss and misery.

  The condition of a wife so beloved almost broke his heart. The tragicdeath of his dear son was not so hard to endure as this living woe athis side. And when they reached San Felipe and found it in ashes, abitter cry of hopeless suffering came from every woman's lips. Theyhad thought to find there a little food, and a day's shelteredresting-place. Even Antonia's brave soul fainted, at the want andsuffering around her. She had gold, but it could not buy bread for thelittle ones, weeping with hunger and terrified by the fretfulness ofmothers suffering the pangs of want and in the last stage of humanweariness.

  It was on this night Houston wrote: "I will do the best I can; but beassured the fame of Jackson could never compensate me for my anxiety andmental pain." And yet, when he was told that a blind woman and herseven children had been passed by, and did not know the enemy wereapproaching, he delayed the march until men had been sent back to bringthem into safety.

  During these days of grief and privation Isabel's nature grew to itsfinest proportions. Her patient efforts to arouse her mother, and hercheerfulness under the loss of all comforts, were delightful. Besideswhich, she had an inexhaustible fund of sympathy for the babies. She wasnever without one in her arms. Three mothers, who had died on the road,left their children to her care. And it was wonderful and pitiful tosee the delicately nurtured girl, making all kinds of efforts to securelittle necessaries for the children she had elected to care for.

  "The Holy Mother helps me," she said to, Antonia. "She makes the poorlittle ones good, and I am not very tired."

  At San Felipe they were joined by nearly one hundred men, who alsobrought word that a fine company were advancing to their aid fromMississippi, under General Quitman; and that two large cannon, sent bythe people of Cincinnati, were within a few miles. And thus hoping andfearing, hungry and weary to the death, they reached, on the 16th ofApril, after a march of eighteen miles, a place called McArley's. Theyhad come over a boggy prairie under a cold rain, and were depressedbeyond expression. But there was a little shelter here for the women andchildren to sleep under. The men camped in the open. They had not a tentin their possession.

  About ten o'clock that night, Doctor Worth was sitting with his wife andchildren and Antonia in one corner of a room in a deserted cabin. He hadthe Senora's wasted hand in his own, and was talking to her. She satin apathetic silence. It was impossible to tell whether she heard orunderstood him.

  "I wonder where Isabel is," said Antonia; and with the words the girlentered the room. She had in her arms a little lad of four years old,suffering the tortures of croup.

  "Mi madre," she cried, "you know how to save him! He is dying! Save him!Listen to me! The Holy Mother says so"; and she laid the child on herknee.

  A change like a flash of light passed over the Senora's face. "The poorlittle one!" Her motherly instincts crushed down everything else. In thechild's agony she forgot her own grief. With glad hearts the doctor andAntonia encouraged her in her good work, and when at length the suffererhad been relieved and was sleeping against her breast, the Senora hadwept. The stone from her heart had been rolled away by a little child.Her own selfish sorrow had been buried in a wave of holy, unselfishmaternal affection. The key to her nature had been found, andhenceforward Isabel brought to her every suffering baby.

  On the next day they marched ten miles through a heavy rain, and arrivedat Burnett's settlement. The women had shelter, the men slept on the wetground--took the prairie without cover--with their arms in their hands.They knew they were in the vicinity of Santa Anna, and all were readyto answer in an instant the three taps of the drum, which was the onlyinstrument of martial music in the camp, and which was never touched butby Houston.

  Another day of eighteen miles brought them to within a short distance ofHarrisburg. Santa Anna had just been there, and the place was in ashes.It was evident to all, now, that the day and the hour was at hand.Houston first thought of the two hundred families he had in charge, andthey were quickly taken over the bayou. When he had seen the last one inthis comparative safety, he uttered so fervent a "Thank God!" that themen around unconsciously repeated it. The bayou though narrow was twentyfeet deep, and the very home of alligators. There was only one smallbridge in the vicinity. He intended its destruction, and thus to makehis little band and the deep, dangerous stream a double barrier betweenthe Mexicans and the women and children beyond them. It was after thisduty he wrote:

  "This morning we are in preparation to meet Santa Anna. We will onlybe about seven hundred to march, besides the camp guard. But we goto conquest. The troops are in fine spirits, and now is the time foraction. I leave the result in the hands of an all-wise God, and I relyconfidently in his Providence.

  "SAM HOUSTON."[5]

  The women and children, under a competent guide, continued their marcheastward. But they were worn out. Many were unable to put their feet tothe ground. The wagons were crowded with these helpless ones. The Senorahad so far recovered as to understand that within a few hours Santa Annaand the Americans must meet. And, mentally led by Isabel's passionatehatred, she now showed a vindictiveness beyond that of any other woman.

  She spent hours upon her knees, imploring the saints, and the stars, andthe angel Michael, to fight against Santa Anna. To Isabel she whispered,"I have even informed the evil one where he may be found. The wretch whoordered such infamies! He poisons the air of the whole world as he goest
hrough it. I shall never be happy till I know that he is in purgatory.He will be hated even there--and in a worse place, too. Yes, it ispleasant to think of that! There will be many accusers of him there.I shall comfort myself with imagining his punishment. Isabel, do youbelieve with your heart that Senor Houston and the Americans will bestrong enough to kill him?"

  "Mi madre, I know it."

  "Then do be a little delighted. How can you bear things with such aprovoking indifference? But as Luis is safe--"

  "Chito! Chito! Do not be cruel, mi madre. I would stab Santa Anna withmy own hands--very slowly, I would stab him. It would be so sweet. TheSisters told me of a woman in the Holy Book, who smiled upon the one shehated, and gave him milk and butter, and when he slept, drove a greatnail through his temples. I know how she felt. What a feast it wouldbe, to strike, and strike, and strike! I could drive ten, twenty, fiftynails, into Santa Anna, when I think of Juan."

  No one had before dared to breathe her boy's name in her hearing. Sheherself had never spoken it. It fell upon the ears of both women likea strain of forgotten music. They looked at each other with eyes thatstirred memory and love to their sweetest depths. Almost in whispersthey began to talk of the dead boy, to recall how lovable, how charming,how affectionate, how obedient he had been. Then the Senora brokeopen the seals of her sorrow, and, with bitter reproaches on herself,confessed that the kiss she had denied her Juan was a load of anguishupon her heart that she could not bear.

  "If I had only blessed him," she moaned; "I had saved him from hismisfortune. A mother's blessing is such a holy thing! And he knelt at myknees, and begged it. I can see his eyes in the darkness, when my eyesare shut. I can hear his voice when I am asleep. Isabel, I shall neverbe happy till I see Juan again, and say to him, 'Forgive me, dear one,forgive me, for I have suffered.'"

  Both were weeping, but Isabel said, bravely: "I am sure that Juan doesnot blame you now, mi madre. In the other world one understands better.And remember, also, the letter which he wrote you. His last thought wasyours. He fell with your name on his lips. These things are certain. Andwas it not good of Dare to die with him? A friend like that! Out of thetale-books who ever hears of such a thing? Antonia has wept much. In thenights, when she thinks I am asleep, I hear her. Have you seen that shehas grown white and thin? I think that my father is very unhappy abouther."

  "In an hour of mercy may the merciful One remember Dare Grant! I willpray for his peace as long as I live. If he had left Juan--if he hadcome back alone--I think indeed I should have hated him."

  "That was also the opinion of Antonia--she would never have loved himthe same. I am sure she would not have married him."

  "My good Antonia! Go bring her to me, Isabel. I want to comfort her. Shehas been so patient with me. I have felt it--felt it every minute; andI have been stupid and selfish, and have forgotten that she too wassuffering."

  The next day it was found impossible to move. The majority of thewomen had husbands with the army. They had left their wives, to secureeverlasting freedom for their children; but, even if Houston wasvictorious, they might be wounded and need their help. To be near themin any case was the one thing about which they were positive.

  "We will not move another inch," said a brave little Massachusettswoman, who had been the natural leader of this domestic Exodus; "wewill rest ourselves a little here, and if the Mexicans want someextraordinary fighting they can have it; especially, if they comemeddling with us or our children. My husband told me just to get out ofreach of shot and shell and wait there till we heard of the victory, andI am for doing THAT, and no other thing."

  Nearly two hundred women, bent upon their own way, are not to be takenany other way; and the few old men who had been sent to guide the party,and shoot what game was necessary for their support, surrendered at onceto this feminine mutiny. Besides, the condition of the boys and girlsbetween seven and fourteen was really a deplorable one. They were tooold to be cared for as infants, and they had been obliged, with thestrength of children, to accomplish the labor of men and women. Manywere crippled in their feet, others were continually on the point ofswooning.

  It was now the 20th of April. The Senora and her daughters had been sixweeks with the American army, exposed to all the privations which sucha life entailed. But the most obvious of these privations were, perhaps,those which were most easily borne. Women endure great calamities betterthan the little annoyances affecting those wants which are part andparcel of their sex or their caste. It was not the necessaries somuch as the luxuries of life which the Senora missed--the changes ofraiment--the privacy--the quiet--the regularity of events.

  During the whole of the 20th, there was almost a Sabbath stillness. Itwas a warm, balmy day. The wearied children were under the wagons andunder the trees, sleeping the dead sleep of extreme exhaustion. Themothers, wherever it was possible, slept also. The guides were alittle apart, listening and smoking. If they spoke, it was only inmonosyllables. Rest was so much more needed than food that little or noattempt was made to cook until near sundown.

  At dawn next morning--nay, a little before dawn--when all was chill,and gray, and misty, and there was not a sound but the wailing of a sickchild, the Senora touched her daughters. Her voice was strange to them;her face solemnly happy.

  "Antonio! Isabel! I HAVE SEEN JUAN! I HAVE SEEN JUAN! My eyes were shut,but I have seen him. He was a beautiful shadow, with a great, shadowyhost around him. He bent on me such eyes! Holy Mother! their love wasunfathomable, and I heard his voice. It was far off, yet near. 'Madre!'he said, 'TOMORROW YOU SHALL HEAR FROM US.' Now I am happy. There arewords in my heart, but I cannot explain them to you. I know what theymean. I will weep no more. They put my Juan's body in the grave, butthey have not buried HIM."

  All day she was silent and full of thought, but her face was smiling andhopeful, and she had the air of one waiting for some assured happiness.About three o'clock in the afternoon she stood up quickly and cried,"Hark! the battle has begun!" Every one listened intently, and after ashort pause the oldest of the guides nodded. "I'd give the rest of mylife to be young again," he said, "just for three hours to be young, andbehind Houston!"

  "TO-MORROW WE SHALL HEAR."

  The words fell from the Senora's lips with a singular significance.Her face and voice were the face and voice of some glad diviner,triumphantly carrying her own augury. Under a little grove of treesshe walked until sunset, passing the beads of her rosary through herfingers, and mechanically whispering the prayers appointed. The actundoubtedly quieted her, but Antonia knew that she lay awake all night,praying for the living or the dead.

  About ten o'clock of the morning of the 22d, a horseman was seen comingtoward the camp at full speed. Women and children stood breathlesslywaiting his approach. No one could speak. If a child moved, the movementwas angrily reproved. The tension was too great to admit of a touchthrough any sense. Some, unable to bear the extended strain, sank uponthe ground and covered their faces with their hands. But the half-grownchildren, wan with privations and fever, ragged and barefoot, watchedsteadily the horse and its rider, their round, gleaming eyes full ofwonder and fear.

  "It is Thomas," said the Senora.

  As he came near, and the beat of the horse's hoofs could be heard, a cryalmost inarticulate, not to be described, shrill and agonizing in itsintensity, broke simultaneously from the anxious women. It was onecry from many hearts, all at the last point of endurance. Thomas Worthunderstood it. He flung his hat up, and answered with a joyful "Hurrah!"

  When he reached the camp, every face was wet with tears, and a crowd offaces was instantly round him. All the agonies of war were on them. Heraised himself in his stirrups and shouted out:

  "You may all go back to your homes! Santa Anna is completely overthrown!The Mexican army is destroyed! There will be no more fighting, no morefears. The independence of Texas is won! No matter where you come from,YOU ARE ALL TEXANS NOW! Victory! Freedom! Peace! My dear friends, goback to your homes. Your husbands will join you at the San Jacinto
."

  Then he dismounted and sought his mother and sisters. With joyfulamazement he recognized the change in the Senora. "You look likeyourself, dear mother," he said. "Father sends you this kiss. He wouldhave brought it, but there are a few wounded men to look after; andalso I can ride quicker. Antonia, cheer up my dear!--and Isabel,little darling, you will not need to cry any more for your ribbons, andmantillas, and pretty dresses."

  "Thomas! You have not much feeling, I think. What I want to know about,is Luis. You think of no one; and, as for my dresses, and mantillas, Idare say Fray Ignatius has sold, or burned them."

  "Queridita! Was I cruel? Luis is well. He has not a scratch. He was inthe front of the battle, too."

  "THAT, of course. Would you imagine that Luis would be at the rear? Heis General Houston's friend, and one lion knows another lion."

  "Pretty one, do not be angry with me. I will tell you some good news.Luis is coming here, unless you go back at once with me."

  "We will go back with you, Thomas. I am full of impatience. I remembermy dear home. I will go to it, like a bird to its nest."

  In half an hour they had turned the heads of their horses westwardagain. They went so rapidly, and were under so much excitement, thatsustained conversation was impossible. And the Senora also fell into asound sleep as soon as the first homeward steps had been taken. Whateverhad been made known to her by Juan had received its fulfilment. She wasassured and happy. She slept till they reached the victorious camp,and her husband awakened her with a kiss. She answered him with herold childish impulsiveness. And among the first words she said, were"Roberto, my beloved, I have seen Juan."

  He believed her. To his reverent soul there was nothing incredible inthe statement. The tie between a mother and her child is not broken bydeath. Was it unlikely, then, that Juan should have been conscious of,and touched by, the mental agony which his untimely death had caused amother so beloved?

  And oh! how different was the return to the ground west of the BuffaloBayou. The very atmosphere was changed. A day or two of spring hadbrought out the flowers and unfolded every green thing. Doctor Worthtook his family to a fine Mexican marquee, and among other comfortsthe Senora found there the chocolate she had so long craved, and somecigaritos of most delicate flavor.

  In a short time a luxurious meal was prepared by Antonia, and just asthey were sitting down to it, Luis and Lopez entered the tent together.Isabel had expected the visit and prepared for it as far as her limitedwardrobe permitted. And her fine hair, and bright eyes, her perfect faceand form, and the charming innocence of her manners, adorned her as thecolor and perfume of the rose make the beauty of the flower. She was solovely that she could dare to banter Luis on the splendor of his attire.

  "It is evident, mi madre, that Luis has found at least the baggage of amajor-general. Such velvet and silver embroidery! Such a silk sash! Theyare fit at the very least for a sultan of the Turks."

  He came to her crowned with victory. Like a hero he came, and like alover. They had a thousand pretty things to say to each other; and athousand blissful plans in prospect. Life to them had never before beenso well worth living.

  Indeed, a wonderful exaltation possessed both Luis and Lopez. Thesombre, handsome face of the latter was transfigured by it. He kissedthe hand of the Senora, and then turned to Antonia. Her pallor andemaciation shocked him. He could only murmur, "Senorita!" But she sawthe surprise, the sorrow, the sympathy, yes, the adoring love in hisheart, and she was thankful to him for the reticence that relieved herfrom special attention.

  Doctor Worth made room for Lopez beside him. Luis sat by Isabel, upon apile of splendid military saddle-cloths. As she sipped her chocolate, hesmoked his cigarito in a lazy fashion, and gave himself up with delightto that foolishness of love-making which is often far wiser than thevery words of wisdom.

  As yet the ladies had not spoken of the battle. It was won. That greatfact had been as much as they could bear at first. The Senora wantedto sleep. Isabel wanted to see Luis. Only Antonia was anxious for thedetails, and she had been busy in preparing the respectable meal whichher mother had so long craved. The apparent indifference was naturalenough. The assurance of good fortune is always sufficient for the firststage of reaction from anxiety. When the most urgent personal feelingshave been satisfied, then comes the demand for detail and discussion. Sonow, as they sat together, the Senora said:

  "No one has told me anything about the battle. Were you present,Roberto?"

  "I had that great honor, Maria. Lopez and Luis were with the cavalry,and Ortiz also has had some satisfaction for all his wrongs."

  "Very good! But I am impatient for the story; so is Antonia; and asfor Isabel--bah! the little one is listening to another story. One mustexcuse her. We expected the battle on the twentieth, but no!"

  "The enemy were expecting it also, and were in high spirits and perfectpreparation. Houston thought it prudent to dash their enthusiasm byuncertainty and waiting. But at dawn, on the twenty-first, we heard thethree taps of the drum, and seven hundred soldiers sprang to their feetas one man. Houston had been watching all night. He spoke to us with atongue of fire and then, while we cooked and ate our breakfast, he laydown and slept. The sun came up without a cloud, and shone brightly onhis face. He sprang to his feet and said to Burleson, as he saluted him:'The sun of Austerlitz has risen again.'

  "Some one brought him a piece of cornbread and broiled beef. He sat uponthe grass and ate it--or rather upon the blue hyacinths that covered thegrass; they are red now. For many weeks I had not seen his countenanceso bright; all traces of trouble and anxiety were gone. He called DeafSmith--the scout of scouts--and quickly ordered him to cut down the onlybridge across the bayou.

  "At nine o'clock, General Cos joined Santa Anna with five hundred andforty men, and for a moment I thought we had made a mistake in notattacking the enemy before his reinforcements came up. But the knowledgethat Cos was present, raised enthusiasm to the highest pitch. Our troopsremembered his parole at the Alamo, and the shameful manner in which hehad broken it; and there was not a man who did not long to kill him forit.

  "About three o'clock in the afternoon, Houston ordered the attack. Theseven hundred Americans were divided into three bodies. I saw Houston inthe very centre of the line, and I have a confused memory of Milard andLamar, Burleson and Sherman and Wharton, in front of their divisions."

  "Were the Mexicans expecting the attack, father?"

  "They were in perfect order, Antonia; and when Sherman shouted thebattle-cry: 'REMEMBER THE ALAMO! GOLIAD AND THE ALAMO!' it was taken upby the whole seven hundred, and such a shout of vengeance mortal earsnever heard before. The air was full of it, and it appeared to be echoedand repeated by innumerable voices.

  "With this shout on our lips, we advanced to within sixty paces of theMexican lines, and then a storm of bullets went flying over our heads.One ball, however, shattered Houston's ankle, and another struck hishorse in the breast. But both man and horse were of the finest metal,and they pressed on regardless of their wounds. We did not answer thevolley until we poured our lead into their very bosoms. No time forreloading then. We clubbed our rifles till they broke, flung them awayand fired our pistols in the eyes of the enemy; then, nothing elseremaining, took our bowie-knives from our belts and cut our way throughthe walls of living flesh."

  Lopez rose at the words. It was impossible for him to express himselfsufficiently in an attitude of repose. His eyes glowed like fire, hisdark face was like a flame, he threw up his hands as he cried:

  "Nothing comparable to that charge with knives was ever made on earth!If I had seen through the smoke and vapor the mighty shade of Bowieleading it, I should not have been surprised."

  "Perhaps indeed, he did lead it," said the Senora, in a solemn voice. "Isaw yes, by all the saints of God! I saw a great host with my Juan. Theystretched out vast, shadowy arms--they made me FEEL what I can nevertell. But I shall honor Senor Houston. I shall say to him some day.'Senor, the unseen battalions--the mighty dead as well
as the mightyliving--won the battle.' Roberto, believe me, there are things womenunderstand better than wise men."

  A little awe, a solemn silence, answered the earnest woman. Luis andIsabel came close to her, and Isabel took her hand. Lopez resumed theconversation. "I know Colonel Bowie," he said. "In the last days atSan Antonio I was often with him. Brave as a lion, true to his friends,relentless to his foes, was he. The knife he made was the expression ofhis character in steel. It is a knife of extreme unction--the oil andwafer are all that remains for the men who feels its edge. For my part,I honor the Senora's thought. It is a great satisfaction to me to hopethat Bowie, and Crockett, and Travis, and Fannin, and all their companywere present at San Jacinto. If the just God permitted it, 'twas a favorof supreme justice."

  "But then you are not alone in the thought, Lopez. I heard GeneralSherman say, 'Poor Fannin! He has been blamed for not obeying Houston'sorders. I THINK HE OBEYED THEM TO-DAY.' At the moment I did notcomprehend; but now it is plain to me. He thought Fannin had beenpresent, and perhaps it was this belief made him so impetuous andinvincible. He fought like a spirit; one forgot that he was flesh andblood."

  "Sherman is of a grand stock," said the doctor; "descended from thewise Roger Sherman; bred in Massachusetts and trained in all the hardyvirtues of her sons. It was from his lips the battle-cry of 'REMEMBERTHE ALAMO!' sprang."

  "But then, Roberto, nothing shall persuade me that my countrymen arecowards."

  "On the contrary, Maria, they kept their ground with great courage.They were slain by hundreds just where they stood when the battle began.Twenty-six officers and nearly seven hundred men were left dead upon thefield. But the flight was still more terrible. Into the bayou horsesand men rolled down together. The deep black stream became red; it waschoked up with their dead bodies, while the mire and water of the morasswas literally bridged with the smothered mules and horses and soldiers."

  "The battle began at three o'clock; but we heard the firing only for avery short time," said Antonia.

  "After we reached their breastworks it lasted just eighteen minutes. Atfour, the whole Mexican army was dead, or flying in every direction,and the pursuit and slaughter continued until twilight. Truly an unseenpower made all our moves for us. It was a military miracle, for our losswas only eight killed and seventeen wounded."

  "I am sorry Houston is among the wounded."

  "His ankle-bone is shattered. He is suffering much. I was with him whenhe left the field and I was delighted with his patience and dignity. Themen crowded around him. They seized his bridle; they clasped his hands.'Have we done well to-day, General? Are you satisfied with us?' theycried.

  "'You have covered yourselves with glory,' he answered. 'You havewritten a grand page in American history this day, boys. For it was notfor fame nor for empire you fought; but for your rights as freemen, foryour homes and your faith.'

  "The next moment he fell from his horse and we laid him down at the footof an oak tree. He had fainted from loss of blood and the agony of hiswound, combined with the superhuman exertions and anxieties of the pastweek."

  "But he is better now?"

  "Yes; I dressed the wound as well as my appliances permitted; but hewill not be able to use his foot for some time. No one slept that night.Weary as the men were, their excitement and happiness were too great forthe bonds of sleep. In the morning the rich spoils of the enemy's campwere divided among them. Houston refused any part in them. 'My shareof the honor is sufficient,' he said. Yet the spoils were very valuableones to men who but a few hours before had nothing but the clothingthey wore and the arms they carried. Among them were nearly one thousandstand of English muskets, three hundred valuable mules, one hundredfine horses, provisions, clothing, tents, and at least twelve thousanddollars in silver."

  "Were you on the field all the time, father?"

  "I was near Houston from first to last. When he saw the battle was won,he did his best to prevent needless slaughter. But men on a battle-fieldlike San Jacinto cannot be reasoned with; after a certain point, theycould not even be commanded. The majority had some private revenge tosatisfy after the public welfare had been served. We met one old man ina frenzy, covered with blood from his white beard to his boots, his armsbare to his shoulders, his knife dripping from haft to point."

  "Houston looked at him, and said something about mercy and valor.'General,' he said, 'they killed two of my boys at Goliad, and mybrother at the Alamo. I'll not spare a Mexican while I've the strengthto kill one. I'm on the scent for Santa Anna, and, by G--, if I findhim, I will spare Texas and you any more trouble with the brute.'"

  At this moment Thomas Worth entered the marquee, and, in an excitedmanner, said:

  "Santa Anna is taken! Santa Anna is taken!"

  "Taken!" cried the Senora in a passion.

  "Taken! Is it possible the wretch is yet in this world? I was assuringmyself that he was in one not so comfortable. Why is he not killed? Itis an inconceivable insult to humanity to let him live. Have you thoughtof your brother Juan? Give me the knife in your belt, Thomas, if youcannot use it."

  "My dear mother--"

  "Maria, my life! Thomas could not wisely kill so important a prisoner.Texas wants him to secure her peace and independence. The lives of allthe Americans in Mexico may depend upon his. Mere personal vengeance onhim would be too dear a satisfaction. On the battle-field he might havebeen lawfully slain--and he was well looked for; but now, No."

  "Holy Mary! might have been slain! He ought to have been slain, athousand times over."

  "Luis, I wish that you had been a hero, and killed him. Then all ourlife long, if you had said, 'Isabel, I slew Santa Anna,' I should havegiven you honor for it. I should be obedient to your wishes for thatdeed."

  "But my charming one, I prefer to be obedient to your wish. Let us notthink of the creature; he is but a dead dog."

  The doctor turned to his son. "Thomas, tell us about the capture."

  "I was riding with a young lieutenant, called Sylvester, fromCincinnati, and he saw a man hiding in the grass. He was in coarsestclothing, but Sylvester noticed under it linen of fine cambric. He said:'You are an officer, I perceive, sir.' The man denied it, but when hecould not escape, he asked to be taken to General Houston. Sylvestertied him to his bridle-rein, and we soon learned the truth; for as wepassed the Mexican prisoners they lifted their hats and said, with amurmur of amazement, 'El Presidente!'

  "The news spread like wildfire. As we took him through the camp hetrembled at the looks and words that assailed him, and prayed uscontinually, 'for the love of God and the saints,' not to let him beslain. We took him to Houston in safety. Houston was resting on theground, having had, as my father knows, a night of great suffering.Santa Anna approached him, and, laying his hand on his heart, said:'I am General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, President of the MexicanRepublic, and I claim to be your prisoner of war.' Houston pointed to aseat, and then sent for Santa Anna's secretary, Almonte, who is also aprisoner, and who speaks English perfectly.'

  "When Almonte came, he embraced Santa Anna, and addressing Houston,said: 'General, you are born to a great destiny. You have conquered theNapoleon of the West. Generosity becomes the brave and the fortunate.'

  "Houston answered, sternly: 'You should have remembered that sentimentat the Alamo and at Goliad.'

  "Then the following conversation occurred. Santa Anna said:

  "'The Alamo was taken by storm. The usages of war permitted theslaughter.'

  "'We live in the nineteenth century, President. We profess to beChristians.'

  "'I have to remind you, General Houston, of the storming of SanSebastian, Ciudad, Riego and Badajos, by the Duke of Wellington.'

  "'That was in Spain. There may have been circumstances demanding suchcruelty.'

  "'Permit me also to bring to your intelligence the battles at Fort Meigsand at the river Raisin. American prisoners were there given by Englishofficers to their Indian allies for torture and death. The English warcry at Sandusky was, "Give the d--
-- Yankees no quarter."'

  "'Sir, permit me to say, that you read history to a devilish purpose,if you read it to search after brutal precedents. At Goliad our mensurrendered. They were promised safe-conduct out of Texas. The massacreat Goliad was a ferocious crime.'

  "'It was precisely the same thing as the wholesale murder of Turkishprisoners at Jaffa by the great Napoleon. Also I had the positive ordersof my government to slay all Americans found with arms.'

  "'These men had given up their arms.'

  "'All Americans--my government said so.'

  "'Sir! YOU are the government of Mexico. You obeyed your own orders.'

  "'You will at least allow that, in the eyes of recognized nations, yourarmy was but a band of desperadoes, without government, and fightingunder no flag.'

  "'Sir, you show a convenient ignorance. We have a government; and assoon as we can lay down our rifles, we shall probably be able to makea flag. I say to you, President Santa Anna, that the butchery at Goliadwas without an excuse and without a parallel in civilized warfare. Themen had capitulated to General Urrea.'

  "'Urrea had no right to receive their capitulation.' Then his mild,handsome face became in a moment malicious and tigerish, and he saidwith a cruel emphasis: 'If I ever get Urrea into my hands, I willexecute him! I perceive, however, that I have never understood theAmerican character. For the few thousands in the country, I thought myarmy an overwhelming one. I underestimated their ability.'

  "'I tell you, sir, an army of millions would be too small to enslave tenthousand free-born anglo-Americans. Liberty is our birthright. We havemarched four days on an ear or two of dry corn, and then fought a battleafter it'; and Houston drew from his pocket an ear, partially consumed,which had been his ration. 'We have had no tents, no music, no uniforms,no flag, nothing to stimulate us but the determination to submit to nowrong, and to have every one of our rights.'

  "Then he turned to Rusk and Sherman, and called a military counsel aboutthe prisoner, who was placed in an adjoining tent under a sufficientguard. But the excitement is intense; and the wretch is suffering,undoubtedly, all the mortal terrors of being torn to pieces by aninfuriated soldiery. Houston will have to speak to them. They will beinfluenced by no other man."

  The discussion upon this event lasted until midnight. But the ladiesretired to their own tent much earlier. They knelt together in gratefulprayer, and then kissed each other upon their knees. It was so sweetto lie down once more in safety; to have the luxury of a tent, and amattress, and pillow.

  "Blessed be the hand of God! my children," said the Senora; "and may theangels give us in our dreams grateful thoughts."

  And then, in the dark, Isabel nestled her head in her sister's breast,and whispered: "Forgive me for being happy, sweet Antonia. Indeed, whenI smiled on Luis, I was often thinking of you. In my joy and triumph andlove, I do not forget that one great awful grave at Goliad. But a womanmust hide so many things; do you comprehend me, Antonia?"

  "Querdita," she whispered, "I comprehend all. God has done right. If Hisangel had said to me, 'One must be taken and the other left,' I shouldhave prayed, 'Spare then my little sister all sorrow.' Good-night, mydarling"; but as their lips met, Isabel felt upon her cheeks thebitter rain which is the price of accepted sacrifice; the rain, whichafterwards makes the heart soft, and fresh, and responsive to all theairs of God.

  At the same moment, the white curtains of the marquee, in which thedoctor sat talking with his son and Luis and Lopez, were opened; and theface of Ortiz showed brown and glowing between them.

  "Senors," he said, as he advanced to them, "I am satisfied. I have beenappointed on the guard over Santa Anna. He has recognized me. He has toobey my orders. Will you think of that?" Then taking the doctor's handhe raised it to his lips. "Senor, I owe this satisfaction to you. Youhave made me my triumph. How shall I repay you?"

  "By being merciful in the day of your power, Ortiz."

  "I assure you that I am not so presumptuous, Senor. Mercy is the rightof the Divinity. It is beyond my capacity. Besides which, it is notlikely the Divinity will trouble himself about Santa Anna. I have,therefore, to obey the orders of the great, the illustrious Houston;which are, to prevent his escape at all risks. May St. James give me theopportunity, Senors! In this happy hour, a Dios!"

  Then Lopez bent forward, and with a smile touched the doctor's hand."Will you now remember the words I said of Houston? Did I not tell you,that success was with him? that on his brow was the line of fortune?that he was the loadstone in the breast of freedom?"