THE BATTLE OF CONCEPCION.
At the time of the war between Texas and the government of Mexico, San
Antonio de Bexar could truthfully be said to be a city of importance
gone to decay. Many of the churches, convents, and missions were
deserted and fast going to ruin. The friars had returned to Mexico, and
with them had gone many of the best of the old Spanish families,
although here and there some Castilians remained, to keep up the style
of the times as best they could.
All told, the city numbered about twenty-five hundred inhabitants, the
majority of whom were Mexicans, with a fair sprinkling of American
trappers and traders. It was situated mostly on the west bank of the
river, at a point where both banks of the stream were lined with pecan
and other trees. There were two large public squares, once the scene of
much gaiety, but now overrun with grass and weeds, and between the two
squares stood the grand old buildings of the San Fernando Church. On
the east side of the river, about half a mile from the city proper,
stood the mission, with its church, convent, and walled courtyard,
commonly called the Alamo.
General Cos had now arrived at San Antonio with six hundred Mexican
militia, and as soon as he learned that the Texans were gathering for
another contest, he sent down to the Rio Grande for additional troops
and extra pieces of artillery. In the meantime, the troops under Austin
moved up to Salado Creek, four miles from San Antonio.
The time was a momentous one, and, arriving at the creek, the Texans
sent forth a flag with a message to General Cos, demanding the
surrender of the place.
"I refuse to surrender," was the Mexican commander's answer. "And if
you send another such flag it will be fired upon." This, of course,
brought negotiations to a complete standstill. Austin waited for
reinforcements, and the Mexicans spent the time in barricading the
highways leading out of the city and in strengthening their several
fortifications.
"We are not getting along very fast," remarked Mr. Radbury, to one of
his brother officers, while in the camp at Salado Creek.
"I believe Sam Houston is coming on to take charge," was the answer.
"He's an old war-horse and will be certain to lead us to victory."
Everybody felt that under Houston the Texan cause could not fail. But,
although Houston came up, he did not take command, declaring that the
expedition was in the hands of Austin, and that he was needed
elsewhere.
Several days passed, with much anxiety on both sides, and then Colonel
Bowie and Colonel James W. Fannin were ordered to take a band of scouts
with them and reconnoitre the enemy's position, with a view to moving
the Texan army still closer to San Antonio.
"We'll do it," said both officers, without hesitation, and hurried off,
taking about ninety men with them. In this body was a detachment under
Mr. Radbury, and Poke Stover was also along.
The party moved along slowly and cautiously through the clumps of trees
and mesquite-bushes, until some time during the afternoon, when they
came to a bend in the river known as the Horseshoe, where was located
the Mission Concepcion.
"This is a strong position," said Colonel Bowie. "The river and timber
will shelter us from behind, and in front is the bluff. It's an ideal
place."
"You are right," said Colonel Fannin. "General Austin cannot do better
than bring the army here."
The orders had been to return, if possible, before nightfall, but at
this time in the year it grew dark rapidly, and it was decided to go
into camp for the night; and outposts were accordingly stationed in all
directions, that they might not be surprised.
Although the Texans were not aware of it, the Mexican scouts had been
watching them closely, and no sooner did the party go into camp than
the enemy resolved to surround them in the darkness, and either shoot
them all down, or take them prisoners. For this purpose General Cos
sent out four hundred of his best troops, determined to teach the
Texans a lesson that they should never forget.
Lieutenant Radbury, as we must now call him, had charge of the outposts
along the river, and, anxious to see that his men did their duty, he
remained out with them, travelling slowly from one sentinel to another.
On duty at one point was Stover, as alert as though after some big
game.
"Any alarm, Poke?" asked the lieutenant, in a whisper, for it was not
known but that the Mexicans might be close at hand.
"Yes, and no," answered the old frontiersman, slowly. "Perhaps my
hearsight is deceivin' me, but I 'most reckoned as how I heard the
creakin' o' wheels about--thar they go ag'in!"
He broke off short, and held up his hand for silence. Both men listened
intently, and from the river bank they heard the steady, lumbering
creak as of heavy wagon wheels.
"Am I right, leftenant?" demanded the frontiersman, when the sounds had
come to an end.
"You are, Poke; do you know what it was?"
"Can't say exactly."
"It was the creaking of artillery wheels."
"Whoopee! Then they must be comin' over fer fair!"
"Yes. I will report at once."
Lieutenant Radbury lost no time in making his way to the tent in which
Colonel Fannin was poring over an old map of San Antonio.
"I have to report the coming of some artillery," he said, as he
saluted.
"Artillery?" repeated the commander. "Mexican artillery?"
"I think so, colonel." And Lieutenant Radbury related as much as he
knew. He had scarcely finished, when Colonel Bowie came in on the run.
"They are starting to surround us!" he cried. "They are bringing over
men and cannon!"
The whole camp was soon in alarm, and, after a short talk among the
officers, it was decided to bring up the men in a semicircle, close to
the bluff's edge. While this was going on, a shot rang out, and then
another, showing that one of the outposts had been fired upon.
As the night wore away, a heavy mist swept up the river, and even when
dawn came but little could be seen. Yet, anxious to avenge the loss at
Gonzales, the Mexicans opened fire at once, which, however, did no
harm. As the mists cleared away, the Mexican cavalry surrounded the
whole front of the Texans' position.
"Give it to 'em!" shouted the Texan officers. "Give it to 'em hot!"
The cry was drowned out by a solid fire from the Mexicans, who
continued to pour in volley after volley just as fast as they could
reload.
The Texans did not fire by volleys. The orders were: "Fire at will, and
make every shot bring down a greaser!" And there was a constant crack!
crack! and the Mexicans were seen to fall in all directions.
Lieutenant Radbury now found himself under actual fire, and instantly
his mind took him back to his service in the war of 1812. He carried a
rifle as well as a pistol, and did as good work as any man on the
field.
"They are preparing for a charge! They are bringing up a cannon!" was
the cry that soon rang along the line, and then the Mexican bugler
sounded out the command, and the cavalry came on with a rush calculated
to sweep everything before it. But the Texans stood firm.
"Drop 'em!" roared Colonel Bowie. "The first line, boys!" And a score
of shots rang out, and the first row of saddles was emptied almost
completely. Some of the horses were killed or wounded, and these,
falling, caused some confusion. In the meantime, other Mexicans
continued to drop, and soon the cavalry retreated to reform.
"Now they are going to use the cannon!" was the cry which went up
directly afterward, and then a four-pounder, stationed on a bluff, was
discharged. The cannon was aimed much too high, and it is said that
every shot from the piece went over the Texans' heads.
The cavalry now came on again, and it was seen that the Mexicans
intended to shift the position of the cannon so that they might
enfilade the line,--that is, shoot from one end to the other.
"Not much ye don't!" sang out Poke Stover, and, leaping to a slight
knoll, he took careful aim at one of the mules attached to the piece
and fired. Then he discharged his pistol at a second mule. Both beasts
were badly wounded, and, breaking away, they tore first through the
cavalry and then through the infantry, throwing the latter into much
confusion.
"We have 'em on the run!" Like magic the cry arose from nearly every
Texan's throat. The cavalry had charged again, and again the leading
line had gone down. Now they were retreating, with the infantry beside
them. Seeing it was of no use to remain longer, the cannoneer attempted
to spike the four-pounder, but a Texan sharpshooter cut him down in the
act.
"Come on, boys, let us follow 'em into San Antonio!" cried several, but
this the leaders would not allow, for they were only ninety strong, and
all were exhausted from the battle, which had been sharp if not of long
duration. So the Mexicans were allowed to form in the plain half a mile
away, and from there they marched rapidly back to the city. Their loss
was sixty-seven killed and forty wounded, which showed how deadly had
been the Texans' aim. The Texans lost but one killed and several
slightly wounded.