The Hermit of the Battle Ground Relates an Ancient Tradition to a Post
Man
The battle ground of San Jacinto is a historic spot, very dear to
those who make the past reputation of Texas a personal matter. A Texan
who does not thrill at the mention of the locality where General Sam
Houston and other gentlemen named after the counties of Texas,
captured Santa Anna and his portable bar and side arms, is a baseborn
slave.
A few days ago a _Hoodoo Jane_ went down the bayou to the battle
ground with the intention of gathering from some of the old
inhabitants a few of the stories and legends that are so plentiful
concerning the events that occurred on that memorable spot.
The _Hoodoo Jane_ let the reporter off at the battle ground, which is
on the bank of the bayou, and he wandered about under the thick grove
of trees and then out upon the low flat country where the famous
battle is said to have raged. Down under a little bunch of elm trees
was a little cabin, and the reporter wandered thither in the hope of
finding an old inhabitant.
A venerable man emerged from the cabin, apparently between 15 and 80
years of age, with long white hair and silvery beard.
"Come hither, youth," he said. "Would'st know the legend of this
place? Then cross my palm with silver, and I'll tell it thee."
"Good father," said the reporter, "Gramercy, and by my halidome, and
Got wot, as you love me, ask me not for silver, but even fire away
with your old legend."
"Then sit you here," said the hermit, "and I will tell you the legend
of the battle ground of San Jacinto.
"A great many years ago, when these silver locks of mine were dark and
my step as quick and blithe as thine, my mother told me this tale. How
well I remember the day. It was twilight, and the evening shadows were
growing long under the trees. She laid her hand upon my head and said:
* * * * *
"'My boy, I will tell you the legend of San Jacinto. It is a beautiful
story, and was told to me by my father, who was one of the earliest
settlers in the State. Ah! what a man he was--six feet in height,
sinewy as an oaken withe, and as bold as a lion. One day, I remember,
he came home after a long, hard fight with the Indians. He took me on
his knee as gently as a woman would, this great strong father of mine,
and said:
"'"Listen, little Sunbeam, and I will tell you the grand old story of
San Jacinto. It is a legend known to few. It will make your bright
eyes dance in your head with wonder. I heard it from my uncle, who was
a strange man, and held in dread by all who knew him. One night when
the moon was going down in the west and the big owls were hooting
mournfully in the woods, he pointed out to me that great grove of
trees on the bayou's bank, and taking me by the arm whispered: 'Do you
see them, lad, do you see them?'
"'"It was almost dark where we stood alone in the deep grass, and the
wind made strange sounds as it swept across the flat.
"'"'I have never breathed to a mortal a word of this story, lad,' said
my uncle, 'but it must out. Listen; when I was a child my grandmother
told me the legend of San Jacinto. The next day she died. She told it
to me at midnight on this very spot. There was a storm raging, and the
furious wind beat us under this old oak for shelter. My grandmother's
eyes, ordinarily so dim and weak, blazed like stars. She seemed fifty
years younger as she raised her trembling hand towards the old battle
ground and said:
"'"'"Child, for the first time in many years a human tongue is about
to reveal the secret that this silent spot holds in its eternal bosom.
I will now tell you the legend of San Jacinto as told me by my
father's half-brother. He was a silent, moody man, fond of reading and
solitary walks. One day I found him weeping. When he saw me he brushed
the tears away from his eyes and said gently:
* * * * *
"'"'"'Is that you, little one? Come and I will tell you something that
I have kept locked in my breast for many a year. There is a mournful
legend connected with this spot that must be told. Sit by my side, and
I will tell it you. I had it from my grandmother's sister, who was a
well known character in her day. How well I remember her words. She
was a gentle and lovely woman, and her sweet and musical tones added
interest to the quaint and beautiful legend.
"'"'"'"Once upon a time," she said, "I was riding with my uncle's
stepfather across this valley, when he gazed upon that grove of trees
and said:
"'"'"'"'Have you ever heard the legend of San Jacinto?'
"'"'"'"'Nay,' I said.
"'"'"'"'I will tell it thee,' he said. 'Many years ago when I was a
lad, my father and I stopped in the shade there to rest. The sun was
just setting, and he pointed to the spot and said:
"'"'"'"'"My son, I am growing old and will not be with you long. There
is an old legend connected with this ground, and I feel that it should
be told you. A long time ago, before you were born my grandfather one
day--"'"'"'"'"
"See here, you old blatherskite," said the _Post_ reporter, "you've
got this story back about 600 years before the Pontius Pilate's time
now. Don't you know a news item from an inscription on the pyramids?
Our paper doesn't use plate matter. Why don't you work this gag of
yours off on the syndicates?"
The aged hermit then frowned and reached under his coat tail, and the
reporter ran swiftly, but in a dignified manner, to the _Hoodoo Jane_
and embarked. But there is a legend about the San Jacinto battle
ground somewhere in the neighborhood, if one could only get at it.
(_Houston Daily Post_, Sunday morning, April 19, 1896.)