SOMETHING ABOUT GENERAL SAM HOUSTON.
The Alamo had fallen, and now it was necessary to figure up results. As
said before, all of the Texans, about one hundred and eighty in number,
had been slaughtered, while the loss to the Mexicans was variously
estimated at from three to five hundred. The sights about the mission
were truly horrible, and never forgotten by those who witnessed them.
It must be said, in all frankness, that the defence of the Alamo was a
mistake, for those gallant men must have known that they could not hold
out against the overwhelming forces of Santa Anna. And they did not
remain there because all escape was cut off, for they could have gotten
away just as easily as the reinforcements from Gonzales got in. It was
not until the final days of the siege that the Mexicans drew around
them closely.
Why, then, did they remain?
The answer is one that every American boy and man ought to remember
with pride. They remained because of the _principle_ involved. They had
staked their lives for liberty or death, and they waged the contest to
the bitter end.
The slaughter of the Alamo garrison thrilled the hearts of the Texans
as they had never been thrilled before. Those who had been doubtful
before were now doubtful no longer. "We must be independent," they
said, "absolutely independent. We must raise a regular army. We must
not be divided into factions, but must fight as one man, and under one
leader." And then they prepared to strike one grand blow from which
Santa Anna should never be able to recover.
But of none of these things did Dan or Poke Stover think as they rested
in the dark passageway just beyond the reach of the water from the
river. Both were cold and hungry and almost exhausted, yet there was
nothing at hand to eat, and rest seemed out of the question.
"We must try to escape, as soon as it grows dark," said the old
frontiersman, and all through that long, weary day they waited and
watched for the light to disappear up the passageway. At last it was
gone, and they swam again to the river, making as little noise as
possible.
At the opening were a number of bushes, and, as they emerged among
these, they heard the footsteps of a Mexican sentinel not a dozen feet
off. At a distance was the camp, with several fires burning brightly.
Suddenly Stover caught Dan by the arm, and pointed to a tree
overhanging the stream. Under the tree was a long canoe with the paddle
lying at the bottom.
"We'll set the canoe adrift, and float down the stream with it,"
whispered Stover, so softly that Dan could scarcely hear him. "It's our
one chance."
They waited until the sentinel had turned to walk to the other end of
his station, then slipped down and swam over to the canoe. It was drawn
partly up over some marsh-grass, and they easily dislodged it. Then
they turned it down the stream and kept along with it as it floated,
their heads up, on the side opposite to the Mexican camp.
They expected that the Mexican sentinel would discover the floating
canoe, but such was not the fact until they were twenty yards from the
mouth of the passageway. Then the Mexican turned and stared stupidly.
"The canoe has drifted off," he murmured to himself, in Spanish. "Well,
it is not mine, so why should I care? Let the owner take care of his
property." And he resumed his walk.
As soon as they were out of the range of the light from the camp-fires,
Poke Stover crawled into the canoe and took up the paddle.
"Stay where you are, Dan," he said. "They needn't have but one of us to
shoot at," and while Dan clung fast to the rear of the craft, Stover
paddled with all the vigour at his command, which was considerable,
considering his condition.
In ten minutes they were out of rifle-range, and safe, and then the
frontiersman sent the craft ashore, and he and Dan climbed to the river
bank. "Thank God, we are out of that!" exclaimed Stover, fervidly, and
Dan uttered a hearty Amen.
"I think the fust thing we want to do is to git sumthin' to eat,"
remarked Stover, after they had rested for a bit. "I'm that hungry I
could eat most anything."
"I don't know this location at all, Poke. Where are we?"
"Not many miles from the Gonzales road, lad. About a mile back is Nat
Woodver's cabin. I reckon as how we'll git a warm welcome there, if Nat
is able to give it to us."
They set out in the darkness, and reached the cabin half an hour later.
They found that the settler was away, to join the army; but his wife
and daughters were home, and they speedily did all they could for our
friends, giving them a hot supper, and dressing the wounds as skilfully
as trained nurses. They had heard of the fall of the Alamo, but had not
imagined that all of the garrison were slaughtered.
His awful experience had driven Carlos Martine entirely out of Dan's
head, and all the youth thought of now was to rejoin his father and his
brother.
"They will worry about us, Poke," he said. "More than likely they will
think us dead, for they must know that all of the Texans in and about
San Antonio went to the Alamo when Santa Anna appeared."
"You are right, lad; we'll steer for the ranch the first thing in the
morning," answered Stover, and this they did, riding two ponies that
Mrs. Woodver loaned them.
When the pair reached Gonzales they found the town wild with
excitement. The news of the disaster of the Alamo had just come in, and
by the deaths of the thirty-two men from Gonzales who had entered the
mission shortly before it fell, twenty women were left widows and twice
as many children fatherless. One woman went crazy, and rushed about the
streets crying for the Mexicans to come and kill her, too. It is
needless to add that the Parkers were deeply affected over the loss of
Henry.
As Dan and Stover were about to start for the trail leading up the
Guadalupe, they met Amos Radbury riding post-haste into Gonzales.
"My son!" cried the father, joyfully. "And Poke, too! I was afraid you
were dead!"
"We came close enough to it, father," answered Dan. And then he and the
frontiersman told their stories in detail.
"I would have gone with the men from Gonzales," said Lieutenant
Radbury, "but I hated to leave Ralph home with nobody but Pompey. These
are certainly terrible times. I wonder what Santa Anna will do next?"
"Perhaps he'll march on Gonzales," said the youth. "It looks as if he
meant to wipe out everybody in Texas."
"The whole State is aroused now. It must and will be a fight to the
finish. If the Texans are whipped, every ranch will go up in flames,
and every man will be butchered."
The party returned to Gonzales, for Amos Radbury did not want to return
to the ranch, now he knew that Dan was safe.
While the siege of the Alamo was in progress, the General Convention of
Texas, which had been called, met at Washington, and a declaration of
independence was adopted, and General Sam Houston was unanimously
reëlected commander-in-chief, with absolute authority over all army
forces, regular and volunteer. Heretofore, Houston had been little more
than commander in name; now it was felt upon all sides that he must be
given the absolute authority that the situation demanded. All other
appointments which had been made in a haphazard, irregular way were
abolished.
For the work that was ahead no better selection of a leader than that
of General Sam Houston could have been made. Houston was born in
Virginia, in 1793, and at the age of nineteen he enlisted for the war
of 1812, becoming an ensign, and fought with such courage that he and
General Jackson became warm friends. At thirty years of age he became a
member of Congress, and five years later he was made governor of
Tennessee, and was one of the most popular men in the West. He was up
for reëlection, when some unfortunate domestic difficulties overtook
him, and he resigned his position and plunged into the wilderness,
taking up his abode, later on, with some friendly Indians with whom he
had hunted years before. These Indians elected him one of their great
chiefs, and in return for this, Houston went to Washington for them and
exposed a number of Indian agents who had been defrauding the red men
out of the allowances made to them by the government. For this these
Indians swore undying friendship, and they called Houston their
best-beloved brother to the day of his death. Because of his life among
the red men Houston frequently attired himself in an Indian blanket and
stuck in his hair the feathers of a chief, a custom that was often
followed by other mighty hunters of this portion of our country.
Besides being governor of Tennessee, Houston had been a lawyer of
well-known reputation, and as such had closely studied legal affairs
relating to the United States, Texas, and Mexico. He saw, long before
war was declared, that Texas must one day strike for freedom, and he
resolved, after leaving the Indians, to throw in his fortunes with the
Texans, or Texians, as some have called them. As soon as he arrived he
took hold, in his own peculiar way, of certain public affairs, and at a
meeting at Nacogdoches he was elected commander of the forces of
eastern Texas. This was directly after the opening of hostilities at
Gonzales.
Had Houston been allowed to act as he wished from the start, it is
possible that the slaughter at the Alamo might have been avoided, but,
as mentioned before, matters, politically, were very much mixed, and
there were frequent clashes of authority. Some secondary leaders took
the liberty to do about as they saw fit, and at one time it looked as
if Houston's command would fall to pieces. In the midst of this came
trouble with the Indians, but this was patched up by the man who had
lived so long among them and who understood them thoroughly.
As the Convention which had reëlected Houston commander-in-chief of the
army was in session, the President was handed a letter from
Lieutenant-Colonel Travis, making a last appeal for help. As the letter
was read there was wild excitement, and then it was moved that the
meeting adjourn and the members march in a body to the relief of the
Alamo.
But Houston would not have this. "Your place is here, gentlemen," he
said. "Here, to pass laws and make our State an assured fact. I will
take the field and organise a relief force, and I give you my word that
no enemy shall come near you." The Convention settled down, and inside
of an hour Houston, accompanied by several of his staff, was riding
like the wind for Gonzales.