1835-1836

1835: Fencers, Duellists, War

An accomplished poet and horseman, Mirabeau Buonaparte Lamar was an active politician in his native Georgia. Lamar was educated in the academies at Milledgeville and Eatonton. He was also awarded a gold medal for fencing, in Milledgeville, Georgia in 1820 (The medal is now on exhibit in the Alamo.) Defeated, however, in the elections of 1832 and 1834, he followed his friend James Fannin to Texas.

As they traveled to Texas, many came by sea as opposed to the overland route, arriving in Jean Laffite's old haunts in Galveston after a short journey by ship from New Orleans, itself a hotbed of dueling.

A few years later Harriet Martineau wrote in Society in America (London: Saunders and Otley, 1837):

"Some may find it difficult to reconcile this prevalence of good temper with the amount of duelling in the United States; with the recklessness of life which is not confined to the semi-barbarous parts of the country. When it is understood that in New Orleans there were fought, in 1834, more duels than there are days in the year, fifteen on one Sunday morning; that in 1835, there were 102 duels fought in that city between the 1st of January and the end of April; and that no notice is taken of shooting in a quarrel; when the world remembers the duel between Clay and Randolph; that Hamilton fell in a duel; and several more such instances, there may be some wonder that a nation where such things happen, should be remarkably good-tempered. But New Orleans is no rule for any place but itself. The spirit of caste, and the fear of imputation, rage in that abode of heathen licentiousness. The duels there are, almost without exception, between boys for frivolous causes. All but one of the 102 were so. And even on the spot, there is some feeling of disgust and shame at the extent of the practice. A Court of Honour was instituted for the restraint of the practice; of course, without effectual result. Its function degenerated into choosing weapons for the combatants, so that it ended by sanctioning, instead of repressing, duelling. Those who fight the most frequently and fatally are the French Creoles, who use small swords."

Needless to say, fencing became a highly pragmatic skill to master and many of the elite did master it. Christoval Morel was born in New Orleans in 1807. He was sent, at a very young age, to be educated in Paris. He entered the college of St. Babe, where he graduated with high honors. He then returned to his native city, and became interested in journalism. He was at one time connected with a paper known as l'Arguste. He studied law and was admitted to the bar in 1832. Shortly thereafter, he married Cornelie d'Hebecourt, and built a home on the bayou. Morel was a skillful swordsman. His most agreeable pastime was fencing. He was a pupil of the celebrated Gilbert Rosiere with whom he had learned the art.

Texas was a frequently sought haven and refuge from those being hounded by the results of their duels and feuds.

As Ms. Martineau continued:

"Certain extreme cases which occur on the semi-barbarous confines of the country come occasionally in aid of such lessons as those I have cited. A passenger on board the Henry Clay, in which I ascended the Mississippi, showed in perfection the results of a false idea of honour. He belonged to one of the first families in Kentucky, had married well, and settled at Natchez, Mississippi. His wife was slandered by a resident of Natchez, who, refusing to retreat, was shot dead by the husband, who fled to Texas. The wife gathered their property together, followed her husband, was shipwrecked below New Orleans, and lost all. Her wants were supplied by kind persons at New Orleans, and she was forwarded by them to her destination, but soon died of cholera. Her husband went up into Missouri, and settled in a remote part of it to practice law; but with a suspicion that he was dogged by the relations of the man he had shot. One day he met a man muffled in a cloak, who engaged with him, shot him in both sides, and stabbed him with an Arkansas knife. The victim held off the knife from wounding him mortally till help came, and his foe fled. The wounded man slowly recovered; but his right arm was so disabled as to compel him to postpone his schemes of revenge. He ascertained that his enemy had fled to Texas; followed him there; at length met him, one fine evening, riding, with his double-barrelled gun before him. They knew each other instantly: the double-barrelled gun was raised and pointed, but before it could be fired, its owner fell from the saddle, shot dead like the brother he had sought to avenge. The murderer was flying, up the river once more when I saw him, not doubting that he should again be dogged by some relation of the brothers he had shot. Some of the gentlemen on board believed that if he surrendered himself at Natchez, he would be let off with little or no punishment, and allowed to settle again in civilised society; but he was afraid of the gallows, and intended to join some fur company in the north-west, if he could; and if he failed in this, to make himself a chief of a tribe of wandering Indians."

It should come as no wonder, then, that those Anglos who settled in Texas (called Texians) and the Hispanics who had already settled there (called Tejanos) should proved a difficult bunch for the more than slightly dictatorial government in Mexico City to control. Contentious on their best day, it was only a matter of time for open rebellion to break out.

Given that it involved virtually every soul within the boundaries of Texas, including the Gulf Coast, what with campaigns at Goliad and San Jacinto, among others, the revolution can not be ignored here. Additionally, a number of accounts by survivors illustrate encounters with swords and other edged weapons. While the firearm had long become the dominant weapon on the battleground by this time, rifles and pistols were still of a single-shot variety. After an initial volley, the only options were to either reload quickly (often impossible with a closing enemy) or turn to the secondary, close-quarters weapons. This meant edged and pointed weapons, primarily swords, knives, lances, bayonets and tomahawks or hatchet type devices.

The town of Goliad was located some 50 miles up the San Antonio River on a key route between San Antonio and the port of Copano. Any Mexican naval supply line to San Antonio passed by the town. Further, it was the site of a well-fortified Spanish presidio, the old La Bahia, elevated above the banks of the river. Mexican General Martin Perfecto de Cos landed at Copano and occupied Goliad on October 2, 1835 with an advanced force. A main force of over 400 men soon joined them.

The shooting war is largely dated from the Battles of Gonzales on October 2, 1835. A detachment of 100 Mexican soldiers were sent to the town of Gonzales to repossess a cannon, which had been left with the towns people as defense against incursions by Native Americans. Patrols were sent to San Patricio, Victoria, and Gonzales. They were met with resistance at all three places. When the soldiers arrived in Gonzales, they found an armed force of Texians flying a flag that bore the image of a cannon and the motto, "Come and Take It." Among the Texians present was Branch Archer, who was among those who reportedly fled to Texas following a duel in Virginia. The cannon was loaded with scrap iron, aimed at the advancing soldiers and fired, beginning the revolt in earnest.

 After a brief skirmish, however, the Mexican forces withdrew with a single casualty on their side and none on the Texan side.

The war had begun and events initially went the Texians way. What followed was a breath-taking series of victories for the rebels. By October 5, Cos took most of his men and departed for San Antonio. Meanwhile, a force of about 50 Texas volunteers marched from Victoria; Ben Milam joined them just prior to the attack in the late evening of October 9. The Texans entered the presidio by forcing through the doors of the adjoining church, and overtook the Mexican defenders in the matter of a few minutes. On October 28^th, a force of 90 Texans, including Jim Bowie and James Fannin, defeated 450 Mexicans at the Battle of Concepcion, near San Antonio. On November 3^rd, a temporary "Texas" government was formed at San Felipe. On November 8^th the "Grass Fight" was waged near San Antonio and the Texians under Jim Bowie and Ed Burleson won the engagement.

On November 25, 1835, the General Council passed a bill providing for the purchase of four schooners and for the organization of the Texas Navy. The same bill provided for the issuance of letters of marque to privateers until the navy should become a reality. Several letters of marque were issued in late 1835 and early 1836. The privateers had returned to the Texas Coast. Silas Dinsmore, Jr. of Matagorda received the first set of official letters of marque, authorizing privateer operations in the Gulf of Mexico.

On December 9^th, after a two-month standoff and four days of house-to-house combat, Mexican General Perfecto de Cos signaled a Mexican truce. The Mexican Army marched out of Texas.

Despite their victories, some Texians were all too aware of their limitations. Noah Smithwick later wrote, "What, with burning coal, brushing cannon, repairing rifles, molding bullets and making flags, lances and cannon balls, there was little time for military tactics, but it was necessary that we learn to act in concert, the most important maneuver being to fire by platoons and fall back to reload. We had neither swords nor bayonets and few of us had pistols, and we knew that, if we all fired at once, the Mexican cavalry would be upon us with sword and lance before we could reload, and then our only resource would be to club our rifles... "

Of the successful campaigns of 1835, Noah Smithwick recalled the fate of an acquaintance. "...that of the previous fall in which we expelled the whole Mexican force from the territory, with a loss to the Texans not exceeding half a dozen men, all told. Among these latter was Ransome Graves, a youth about eighteen years of age, who lived with his widowed mother at Matagorda. Ransome did not thirst for glory, but was rather ambitious to shine with the girls; a weakness of which I took advantage to kindle a martial flame. "Now," said I, "here's your opportunity. There is nothing a woman so despises as a coward; but, if you will go bravely to the front and fight for freedom, when you come back you will be a hero, and the girls will be proud of your attentions. Ransome remained silent for a moment as if contemplating the alluring picture. "Yes," he dubiously interposed, "but what if your Uncle Fuller was to get thrust through?"

That was a proposition which I had no argument to combat. But when the test came, Ransome did not fail. He was among the first in the field and - was ‘thrust through.' "

Even with most of the engagements winding down for the winter, many stayed prepared for a fight. In a letter to relatives, A. M. Clopper wrote, "Col. Morgan has arriven about a fortnight ago [December] with two Schooners laden with Goods, who told me he had reciev'd a letter from you dated in November, that you were in good health which I was glad to hear. he was advised at the Balize not to come here at present as they thought it dangerous that he would be taken by Mexican Cruisers. he then ask'd his men if they would be willing to fight, should they be attack'd. they said they would. he then purchas'd an eighteen Pounder, Muskets, Cutlasses and every thing necessary, and came out in company with the Schooner Pennsylvania and brig Durango bound for the Brazos as far as Galveston."

By December 30^th, the Mexican Congress declared that any and all captured, armed foreigners were to be shot.

1836: Put to the Sword

The Texas forces moved slowly and were few in numbers. Perhaps, after their stunning upset over the Mexican Army, they no longer gave their adversary enough credit. By the late winter and early spring of 1836, the Mexican army had returned and began a war of extermination.  Santa Anna, himself, commanded one branch of the invasion and used the old King's Highway, El Camino Real, as his axis. General Urrea moved north with his detachment along the coast road.

The call to begin the push to reclaim Texas came at an awkward moment for one Mexican officer. Lt. Col. Jose Enrique de la Pena was given little advance warning that he was to mobilized and was forced to leave Mexico City on the very morning upon which he had scheduled an encounter to settle "a matter of honor."

While living on Deer Island in 1836, one-time Laffite captain James Campbell was visited by an old ex-buccaneer friend with whom he had sailed nearly 20 years earlier. He was Captain William Cochrane, who commanded a Mexican warship in Galveston Bay, whose mission was to supply the army of General Santa Ana's army. Cochrane was master of a Mexican privateer in 1821, before Mexico's peace with Spain was established, and he continued in the Mexican naval service during the intervening years. Cochrane was probably trying to induce Campbell to accept a command in the Mexican Navy, but if so, he failed.

Among the first engagements of 1836, was the capture by Mexican forces of a small Texian force at the tiny port of Copano. Walter Lane, a Texian volunteer wrote, "Some two months before the battle of San Jacinto, my old friend, Col. Sam W. McKneely, was with a company down on the coast, near Copano. Their camp was surprised in the night by a large force of Mexicans. As he ran out he was struck on the back of his head with a sword by a Mexican, severing the scalp on the back of his head, which fell down on his shoulders. The blow knocked him senseless. When he recovered consciousness, he found that, verily, he was in the hands of the Philistines, being tied hand and foot. The Mexicans sewed up his scalp, and a few days after he was sent a prisoner to Matamoros, where he was placed in a dungeon."

On February 23^rd, Santa Anna's forces began their siege of the Alamo. As is well known, this was the mission held by about 200 men under William Travis, Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie. Upon arriving at the site and seeing Bowie draw his famous knife to cut a strap, Davy Crockett wrote, "The very sight of it was enough to give a man of squeamish stomach the colic, especially before breakfast." The Alamo is also the site of one of the most famous non-combat uses of sword. This reportedly occurred when Travis, announcing to his men the inevitability of their defeat and destruction should they stand and fight, drew a line in the sand with his sword asking those who chose to remain and fight to the end to step across. Reportedly, all but one did so. Unfortunately, the sole survivor to relate this story admitted, in later years, that it was a fabrication. What is true is that, ultimately, all those who remained perished on March 6^th, after holding out through a 13-day siege.

The Mexican victories were swift and sure. On February 27^th, Mexican General Urrea attacked and defeated a small force of Texians at San Patricio. According to Urrea 20 Texans were killed and 32 captured and shipped to Matamoros.

On March 2^nd, General Urrea defeated the small force of rebels under Dr. James Grant at Agua Dulce Creek. Most of Grant's men were cut down by sabre in a charge of dragoons. Several of the Texian force tried to surrender but were cut down. Forty rebels were killed and six shipped to Matamoros. As for Grant there is controversy. There is an account that states a lance ran him through as he stood trying to give up. Another historian wrote that a wild horse was captured and to his tail and hind feet Dr. Grant was tied. The animal was turned loose and dashed wildly across the prairie. Dr. Grant was dragged to death. None of the Mexican forces were killed.

On the same day, the Texans declared independence at Washington-on-the-Brazos.

If the Texans were facing bloody defeats on land, at sea they fared a little better. The rebels had taken a page from the Mexicans rebels almost two decades earlier. They issued "letters of marque," creating privateers to harry Mexican maritime commerce and, more importantly, prevent supplies from reach Santa Anna. 

They were largely successful and while most naval actions were decided by artillery, there were some vicious close quarters encounters as well. On March 3^rd, the Liberty, a schooner in the Texas Navy was off the Yucatan peninsula near the port of Sisal. There they spotted a large schooner, the Pelicano, anchored in the harbor. The Liberty set out two long boats filled with some three dozen sailors and marines to capture the ship. The Mexicans were alert, however, and about 20 soldier from the Sisal garrison rowed out to defend the ship. Both forces reached the Pelicano at about the same time, from opposite sides, and climbed aboard. There was an initial, near simultaneous exchange of fire. After that it was Mexican bayonets versus Texan cutlasses and tomahawks. The Texans were eventually victorious and sailed off with their prize.

On the land, the Texians encountered one defeat after another. On March 6^th, the Alamo fell to General Santa Anna's forces, with every combatant put to the sword. Sam Houston abandoned Gonzales on March 10^th in a general retreat eastward to avoid the main invasion force.

Besides the better-known Bowie, Crockett and Travis, the Alamo defenders who perished included James Butler Bonham.

The Bonham family of South Carolina never had a portrait of James Butler Bonham, but stated he was a handsome man. They state he was more than six feet tall with a rich olive complexion to match black, wavy hair and dark brown eyes; and while he was brave to rashness, his manner was thoughtful and gentle. They reported that he loved sports and was an expert swordsman and a graceful daring horseman. His high sense of honor and loyalty were manifested by his last return to the Alamo to die with his comrades.

Among the few Alamo survivors from the Texian side was William Travis' slave, Joe. Travis had been among the first to fall, with a single gunshot wound to the head.  In later years, however, Joe gave a more romantic and apocryphal account of the death of Travis:

"I was sleeping in the room with my master when the alarm was given. Mr. Travis sprang up and seized his shotgun and sword and called to me to follow him. I took my gun and followed. We ran across the Alamo and mounted the wall. Travis discharged his gun as did I. In an instant Travis was shot down. He fell within the wall, on the sloping ground, and sat up. When my master fell, I ran and hid in a house where I fired on the Mexican soldiers several times after they got inside the wall. As Travis sat wounded on the ground, General Mora, who was passing him, made a blow at him with his sword, which Travis struck up and ran his assailant through the body, and both died on the same spot. The Negroes, there were several Negroes and women in the fort, were spared. Only one woman was killed, and I suppose she was shot accidentally, while trying to cross the courtyard. She was found lying between two guns. The officers came around after the massacre and called out to know if there were any Negroes there. I stepped out, said, "Yes, here is one." Two soldiers tried to kill me, one by discharging his gun at me, the other with a thrust of his bayonet. I was saved by Capt. Baragan. Santa Anna questioned me about Texas and the army. He asked if there were many soldiers from the United States in the army, and if more were expected. He said he had men enough to march to the city of Washington."

Another account of Travis' death came from the Mexican Lt. Col. Jose Enrique de la Pena, who wrote in his journal:

"Travis was seen to hesitate, but not about the death he would choose. He would take a few steps and stop, turning his proud face toward us to discharge his shots; he fought like a true soldier. Finally he died, but he died after having traded his life very dearly. None of his men died with greater heroism, and they all died. Travis behaved as a hero; one must do him justice, for with a handful of men without discipline, he resolved to face men used to war and much superior in numbers, without supplies, with scarce munitions, and against the will of his subordinates. He was a handsome blond, with a physique as robust as his spirit was strong."

Among the controversies for historians was whether Davy Crockett died in battle or was captured and subsequently executed. The argument has partisans on both sides and each claim period accounts to back them up.

Lt. Col. Pena wrote:

"Some seven men survived the general carnage and, under the protection of General Castrillón, they were brought before Santa Anna. Among them was one of great stature, well proportioned, with regular features, in whose face there was the imprint of adversity, but in whom one also noticed a degree of resignation and nobility that did him honor. He was the naturalist David Crockett, well known in North America for his unusual adventures, who had undertaken to explore the country and who, finding himself in Béjar at the very moment of surprise, had taken refuge in the Alamo, fearing that his status as a foreigner might not be respected. Santa Anna answered Castrillón's intervention in Crockett's behalf with a gesture of indignation and, addressing himself to the sappers, the troops closest to him, ordered his execution. The commanders and officers were outraged at this action and did not support the order, hoping that once the fury of the moment had blown over these men would be spared; but several officers who were around the president and who, perhaps, had not been present during the danger, became noteworthy by an infamous deed, surpassing the solders in cruelty. They thrust themselves forward, in order to flatter their commander, and with swords in hand, fell upon these unfortunate, defenseless men just as a tiger leaps upon his prey. Though tortured before they were killed, these unfortunates died without complaining and without humiliating themselves before their torturers."

Another soldier of the Mexican Army, however, Sgt. Felix Nunez, gave a different account. He

"recalled a tall American in a coonskin cap whom he believed to be Crockett. Throughout the battle, this man killed and wounded many Mexican soldiers. None of his shots ever missed. Finally, a Mexican lieutenant dealt him a blow with a sword, just above the right eye, after which he was pierced by some twenty bayonets."

Yet another Mexican officer, named Saldigua, stated that Santa Ana looked at the body of the famous frontiersman for a few moments, then thrust his sword into the body, and turned away in contempt.

Recent archeological excavations of the trenches used by the Mexican forces give us a glimpse of some of the weaponry employed. Among the items unearthed wee a bayonet for the Brown Bess musket, and a bayonet (similar to French model 1777, or Baker rifle bayonet) that had been made into a pike head. Also found were knife blades, a Brown Bess bayonet with a bent tip, a bayonet tip with cloth impressions preserved by rust, a sword hilt similar to that of a British model 1821 light cavalry and an artillery sword. Many of these represent standard British arms that had been sold to the Mexican government.

March 12-15 saw the battle of Refugio Mission. Capt. King surrendered to General Urrea. Lt. Col. William Ward and some of his men retreated to Victoria. King and most of his men were shot the next day. 

On March 20^th, at the Battle of Coleto Creek, Mexican regulars placed the rebellious Texians under Lt. James Fannin at Goliad under attack. Out numbered 10 to 1, the Texians agreed to surrender and to be shipped back to the United States.

On March 21^st, Mexican forces shot three prisoners in Victoria.

On March 22^nd, at Dimmitt's Landing, Lt. Col. Ward and his small force were finally forced to surrender. They were shipped to Goliad to join Fannin and the others held captive there.

On March 27^th, Palm Sunday, the Texians kept as prisoners at Goliad were marched a couple of miles outside the fortifications. The Mexican army formed a circle and, first with guns, then with lances and sabres, began to execute them. Col. James Fannin and most of his command were killed.

One survivor, Samuel T. Brown, later wrote:

"Early on the morning of the 27th, we were all marched into line and counted, and divided into four equal parts of one hundred and twenty each. The nearest to the door of the fort marched out first, and were received by a strong guard and placed in double file, going we knew not whither nor for what purpose. I was in this division, in the right-hand file, and about half a mile from the fort we were ordered to halt; the guard on the right then passed to the left, and instantly fired upon the prisoners, nearly all of whom fell, and the few survivors tried to escape by flight in the prairie and concealing in the weeds. The firing continued, and about the same time I heard other firing towards the fort and the cries of distress."

Of the 409 of Fannin's command 349 were thus executed, 34 were saved and 26 escaped to tell the story. The West Point duellist, Walker Baylor, had joined Albert C. Horton's Company of Videttes and was with that company when Fannin's men were surrounded at Goliad. He was able to flee with some other men to cut their way back to Sam Houston's command.

Herman Ehrenberg, a volunteer with the New Orleans Grays, described the massacre and his flight thus: 

"The blood of my lieutenant was on my clothing and around me quivered my friends. Beside me Mattern and Curtman were fighting death. I did not see more. I jumped up quickly, and concealed by the black smoke of the powder, and rushed down the hedge to the river. I heard nothing more and saw nothing. Only the rushing of the water was my guide. Then suddenly a powerful sabre smashed me over the head. Before me the figure of a little Mexican lieutenant appeared out of the dense smoke, and a second blow from him fell on my left arm with which I parried it. I had nothing to risk, but only to win. Either life or death! Behind were the bayonets of the murderers, and before me was the sword of a coward that crossed my way to the saving stream. Determinedly I rushed upon him. Forward I must go, and-the coward took flight... I threw myself into the rescuing floods...  I cast another look and a farewell greeting to my dead companions and turned to flee. I had to hasten if I did not wish to fall into the hands of the lancers who were now on this side of the river less than a half a mile below me."

Survivor John D. Duval wrote:

"Some one near me exclaimed "Boys! they are going to shoot us!" and at the same instant I heard the clicking of a musket locks all along the Mexican line. I turned to look, and as I did so, the Mexicans fired upon us, killing probably one hundred out of the one hundred and fifty men in the division. We were in the double file and I was in the rear rank. The man in front of me was shot dead, and in falling he knocked me down. I didn't get up for a minute, and when I rose to my feet, I found that the whole Mexican line had charged over me, and were in hot pursuit of those who had not been shot and who were fleeing towards the river about five hundred yards distant. I followed on after them, for I knew that escape in any direction (all open prairie) would be impossible, and I had nearly reached the river before it became necessary to make my way through the Mexican line ahead. As I did so, one of the soldiers charged upon me with his bayonet (his gun I suppose being empty). As he drew his musket back to make a lunge at me, one of our men coming from another direction, ran between us, and the bayonet was driven through his body. The blow was given with such force, that in falling, the man probably wrenched or twisted the bayonet in such a way as to prevent the Mexican from withdrawing it immediately. I saw him put his foot upon the man, and make an ineffectual attempt to extricate the bayonet from his body, but one look satisfied me, as I was somewhat in a hurry just then, and I hastened to the bank of the river and plunged in."

Duval, in fact, came up from the river in a wooded area and met two more survivors, the previously mentioned Samuel T. Brown and a man named Holliday. The three could see that mounted lancers were now on the prairie on their side of the river.

Duval continued:

"Some four or five of our men passed out of the timber before we saw them, into the open prairie, and when they discovered the lancers it was too late. The lancers charged upon them at once speared them to death, and then dismounting robbed them of such things as they had upon their persons. From where we stood the whole proceeding was plainly visible to us, and as may be imagined, it was not calculated to encourage any hopes we might have had of making our escape. However, after the lancers had plundered the men they had just murdered, they remounted, and in a few moments set off in a rapid gallop down the river to where it is probable they had discovered other fugitives coming out of the timber."

Samuel T. Brown wrote:

"As I ran off, several poor fellows, who had been wounded, tried to hide in the clump of weeds and grass, but were pursued, and I presume killed. Soon after I made my escape, I was joined by John Duval and _______ Holliday, of the Kentucky volunteers, both of whom were with me at the massacre, but not until I had swam across the San Antonio, about half a mile from the butchery."

Brown continued:

"In the course of a few days, wandering at random in the open country, often wide off of our supposed direction, we saw fresh signs of cavalry, and withdrew to the swamp, but had been perceived going there, and were taken by two Mexicans armed with guns and swords; that is, Duval and myself were captured; Holliday lay close and was not discovered. One of the men seized me and held on; Duval was placed between them to follow on. He sprang off, and one man threw down his gun and ran after him in vain. Duval made his escape, and I have not seen him since. I was taken to their camp close by, when they saddled their horses in a hurry and rode off without me. From their actions I judged they were of opinion a party of Texians was near, and so made off. I then went to the swamp where I was taken, and found Holliday in his old position."

A closer call with a Mexican sword came to Dillard Cooper, one of the Alabama Red Rovers:

"At that moment, I glanced over my shoulder and saw the flash of a musket; I instantly threw myself forward on the ground, resting on my hands. Robert Fenner must have been instantly killed, for he fell with such force upon me as almost to throw me over as I attempted to rise, which detained me a few moments in my flight, so that Simpson, my companion on the right, got the start of me. As we ran towards an opening in the brush fence, which was almost in front of us, Simpson got through first, and I was immediately after him. I wore, at that time, a small, round cloak, which was fastened with a clasp at the throat. As I ran through the opening, an officer charged upon me, and ran his sword through my cloak, which would have held me, but I caught the clasp with both hands, and tore it apart, and the cloak fell from me. There was an open prairie, about two miles wide, through which I would have to run before I could reach the nearest timber, which was a little southwest of the place from where we started."

Dillard made it, linking up with Simpson, a man named Brooks and Isaac Hamilton who, if less fortunate than the others, did survive. Hamilton later wrote:

"The order to fire was then given---the Mexicans being three paces distant---while I was shot in the left thigh about six inches above the knee, I then wheeled about and while in the act of crossing the fence received a bayonet in the upper portion of the right thigh after which I was pursued some three miles being frequently fired on and during which time I saw but one mounted Mexican who was endeavoring to rope one of our men. After having out run my enemies I was hailed by a man by the name of Brooks and after having proceeded some four miles up the San Antonio River we were overtaken by two others---Cooper and Simpson---by whose assistance I was enabled to make my way on to within two miles of Texana---at which place the Mexicans then were, but being exhausted by the loss of blood and unable to proceed farther my comrades left me under the impression that I must die."

One apocryphal, and certainly more swashbuckling, account that received large readership was that of a Lt. Harrison:

"At this moment of carnage, I saw a mounted Mexican rushing towards me with a drawn sabre to one hand and a pistol in the other. Expecting death at every moment, I as it were instinctively---for I do not think I reasoned on the subject---looked around for some means of' escape, when, to my, joy, I saw a dead Mexican by my side, killed I never knew how, with a cutlass and pistol in the belt around his waist. Now, thought I, here a chance left for fight, and I will sell my life as dearly as possible. To spring to the dead soldier and seize upon his weapons was the work of an instant; and the next to look upon my own defense, for my adversary was already close upon me. As I turned, I saw him leveling his pistol, and again, as it were instinctively, I threw myself upon the earth, just as the weapon went off, the ball of which, though whizzing close to my head, left me untouched. This movement, simple as it was, saved my life; for seeing me fall, my adversary of course believed me wounded, and knowing by the uniform that, I was an officer, he doubtless thought he should find upon my person something of' value, and accordingly he dismounted, and holding his horse by the bridle, was about to proceed in his search, when, a movement quick as lightning, I raised my pistol and shot him dead. As he fell, I grasped the reins of his steed, and swinging myself into the saddle, cutlass in hand, I dashed through the ranks of the enemy, cutting and slashing at all I met, until by some means, by some preservation almost miraculous, I found myself outside of the horrible circle, on the open plain."

The surviving Texian force under Sam Houston was retreating and attempting to outfit and organize itself. In a March letter to T. J. Rusk the Texas Secretary of War, George Hockley wrote, "The army are much in want of good horses -- and if Sabers and pistols could be forwarded we could furnish the material for an efficient corps of cavalry."

Santa Anna pushed on toward New Washington in hopes of catching the leaders of the Texas government. On the way, while passing by the William Vince plantation, he noticed an interesting horse. The horse known as "Old Whip" was a large, big boned half-thoroughbred stallion that belonged to a Brown family. Santa Anna sent some soldiers to get the horse. Jimmy Brown, a boy of thirteen but large for his age, sought to intercede. The flat side of a Mexican officer's sabre struck him, and the Mexican took the horse to Santa Anna.

By April, nearing Harrisburg (near the site of modern Houston) and the San Jacinto River, with most of the Anglo population retreating to the Sabine River and the safety of Louisiana and the United States, Santa Anna made camp. With nothing but a string of unbroken victories, he was completely unprepared for an all out attack by the remaining Texian and Tejano forces that were closing on his position.

There was a brief engagement on April 20^th. Colonel Sidney Sherman, with a force of fifty cavalrymen sallied forth out of the woods to snatch the Mexican cannon. He failed miserably, losing two men and several horses.

Walter Lane, a Texian recruit remembered it:

"That evening, Col. Sherman went out to feel the enemy with some two hundred cavalry. We got in half a mile of their line, when their cavalry came out to interview us. They got within two hundred yards, halted and formed. The officers rode out in front, waved their swords and cried, ‘Mericannas, Vene Usted!' (Come here.) We did. The word was passed, ‘Are all ready for a charge?' ‘All ready.' ‘Charge!' rang out, and we went through them like a stroke of lightning, chased them back to their infantry, and then fell back out of their fire. They reinforced and followed us out, and challenged us again. We charged, routed and drove them back on their infantry the second time. My horse---a powerful animal---had got excited, and, having more zeal than discretion, took the bit in his teeth, and ran me headlong into the midst of the enemy, much to my disgust. The order was given to retreat. I was unanimously in favor of it, but my horse wanted to go through. A Mexican officer settled the difficulty by cutting at my head with his sabre. I threw up my gun and warded off the blow. My gun was empty. I drew a holster pistol, aimed at his head and pulled trigger. It missed fire; he tucked his head down to avoid the shot, when I hit him over the head with the pistol, knocking him senseless. Just then a big Mexican lancer charged me in the side, running me through the shoulder with his lance, observing, ‘Carajo Americana,' (d--n the Americans) and knocked me ten feet off my horse. I fell on my head, stunned and senseless. Gen. Lamar rode up to succor me, shot the Mexican, and, thinking I was dead, fell back with the command. My comrades had got some forty yards, retreating, when I regained consciousness and my feet at the same time. Twenty Mexicans were round me when I rose, but it so surprised them to see a dead boy rise to his feet and run like a buck, that I got ten steps before they fired at me. Capt. Karns saw me coming, and ordered his company to wheel and fire on my pursuers, which they did, killing a few, when the balance halted. An old man told me: "son, get up behind; I recon' the old mar kin take us both out." I did. (She was a sorrel mare and thin in flesh; I would know her hide if it was dried on a fence even now, and she had the sharpest backbone it has ever been my fortune to straddle.) Gen. Houston, thinking we were bringing on a general engagement, sent out his infantry to support us. We got behind them, but, as the enemy retired, both parties went back to camp. Dr. Goode, our orderly sergeant, dressed my wound; it was not dangerous, but painful. The lance had gone nearly through my shoulder blade."

Sherman had nearly triggered an attack by the Mexicans, which prompted the infuriated Houston to take away Sherman's command of the cavalry and give it to Mirabeau Lamar, who risked his life during the skirmish by helping a wounded comrade.

Col. Pedro Delgado, of Santa Anna's staff, recalled Santa Anna's preparations on the morning of April 21, 1836. "At daybreak on the 21st his Excellency ordered a breastwork to be erected for the cannon. It was constructed with packsaddles, sacks of hard-bread, baggage, etc. A trifling barricade of branches ran along its and right. The camping-ground of selection was in all respects against rules. Any youngster could have done better."

General Sam Houston went to Juan Seguin and his troop of Tejano horsemen who had served as scouts throughout the campaign. He requested that they fall to the rear and guard the wounded and the pack train. Seguin replied that he and his men were at San Jacinto to fight Santa Anna, not guard the pack train. The Texians pack animals would be placed under the guard of a former Laffite crewman, the young Charles Cronea.

Houston sent Deaf Smith and six others to destroy Vince's Bridge, thus cutting off any more reinforcements. He placed the cavalry, under Lamar, to his right. Next to the cavalry he put the 240 bayonet equipped troops of the Texas Regular Battalion under Henry Millard. The "Twin Sisters" of the Cincinnati Battery with 31 men were next. On their left was Colonel Edward Burleson's 1st Regiment with 220 men. On the extreme left was the 2nd Texas Regiment under Colonel Sidney Sherman with 260 men. The one-time West Point duellist and survivor of the Palm Sunday Massacre, Walker Baylor, had joined Patton's company and was also at the fight. His name is on the rolls as "Dock" Baylor, a nickname given him because he had studied medicine. The army formed in two thin lines stretching some 900 yards, many armed not only with a musket but also with pistols and a sword or Bowie Knife.

Noah Smithwick later wrote:

"Thus we find the Texans at bay at San Jacinto with less than one-third of the Mexican army confronting them; and while Santa Anna is snoozing away the time waiting for his scattered forces to rejoin him, the bridge behind him is burned, cutting off help and retreat alike, and the gallant little band is upon him dealing death to his surprised and routed army. He had not dreamed of attack. "Why," said he after his capture, "such a thing as assaulting breastworks without either bayonets or swords was never before known." The Texans had established a precedent... "

Houston took position in the middle of the line, riding his white stallion, Saracen. Sword raised, he waved his army forward, crying, "Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!" The color bearer of Sidney Sherman's 2nd Texas Regiment unfurled the regimental banner, a bare breasted Liberty figure wielding a saber from which dangled a ribbon inscribed "Liberty or Death." This was the sole flag the Texians had this day. The army's band, which consisted of an African-American drummer and a German immigrant fifer, played a popular bawdy song of the day for want of any other tune known to both. The lyrics, in part, ran, "Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you? Our bed shall be roses all spangled with dew. There under the bower on roses you'll lie. With a blush on your cheek but a smile in your eye."

M. H. Denham remembered the Texian assault:

"About three o'clock in the evening of the twenty-first, we formed in three columns and advanced to the attack -- We moved on rapidly until within one hundred and fifty yards of their lines over a prairie, (they were in the woods), when we deployed into line, and charged up to their works: they kept up a very severe fire on us for about twenty minutes, when their whole line gave way, and a scene of slaughter took place which defied description."

Delgado later recalled the attack:

"No important incident took place until half-past four P.M. At this fatal moment the bugler on the right signaled the enemy's advance upon that wing. His Excellency and staff were asleep. The great number of the men were also sleeping. Of the rest, some were eating, others were scattered in the woods in search of boughs to prepare shelter. Our line was composed of musket-stacks. Our cavalry were riding bareback to and from water. I stepped upon some ammunition-boxes the better to observe the movement of the enemy. I saw that their formation was a mere line in one rank, and very extended. In their centre was the Texas flag. On both wings they had two light cannon, well manned. Their cavalry was opposite our front, overlapping our left. In this disposition, yelling furiously, with a brisk fire of grape, muskets, and rifles, they advanced resolutely upon our camp. There the utmost confusion prevailed. General Castrillon shouted on one side; on another Colonel Almonte was giving orders; some cried out to commence firing, others to lie down to avoid the grapeshot. Among the latter was his Excellency."

At 200 yards, the "Twin Sisters" were swung about, firing rounds of chopped-up horseshoes gouging a hole in the midst of the Mexican breastworks. As the Texian line swept forward the cannons were moved to within 70 yards of the Mexican force and fired again. The infantry fired in volleys and ran for the breastworks. Saracen was shot out from under Houston. He mounted another and rode on. This horse was also hit. Houston received a round of grapeshot in his right ankle. He mounted a third steed and pressed on.

One Texian combatant, Samuel Hardaway, recalled:

"The fight commenced in the afternoon about 3 or 4 o'clock, by two six pounders on our side, and a long twelve pound brass piece by the enemy: but by some fortunate shot at the very beginning we silenced their big gun, and pressed down upon them, continuing the fire from our artillery, and receiving the fire from their small arms which was doing us no injury, as they seemed to shoot above us. When we reached within about fifty yards of them we fired two or three rounds from our deadly rifles, which seemed to produce a tremendous effect, and at this moment a charge from all quarters was ordered, and our men rushed upon them with fury and desperation, and with pistols, guns and cutlasses, the destruction of human life was speedy and immense."

W. C. Swearingen described the scene in a letter to his brother:

"The musquetry and riflemen kept advancing as they fired when within about 20 steps of the enemy's line we were ordered to charge with the bayonet as soon as we was ordered to the charge and brought our guns to the proper position the enemy gave way except about 60 men round the canon and protected by a breast work of corn sacks, salt barrels of meal and boxes of canister shot. they fell by the bayonet and sword in one mangled heap from that time until they reached the bieau [bayou]."

Sherman's 2nd Regiment made first full engagement, driving the thinned front line of the Mexican Army backward on the left. Seconds later the Burleson's 1st Regiment drove up on the right. Together they overran the Mexican cannon, which had managed to get off only five rounds. The Texian forces rushed in, taking the breastworks and the camp rather quickly. The Mexican soldiers tried to rally but failed. Supporting Mexican forces advanced, only to be overrun by their retreating comrades.

The daughter of one of the combatants, Jesse K. Davis, later recalled her father's memory:

"Here is the tale as it was told to me. During the battle father, Jesse K. Davis, had some trouble with his gun. He sat down on a fallen log to repair it. There was fighting every where and much noise and confusion. As he was hurriedly working with his gun, Deaf Smith yelled, "Look out Davis, that Mexican will get you." Father whirled around grasping the barrel of his rifle. A Mexican officer was advancing on him with a drawn sword. He hit the Mexican a terrific blow on the side of the head and left him as he fell. He took the sword since it was better than a broken gun and on with the battle. This sword is still in our family."

Another Texian combatant, Theodore Stanton Lee, was wounded in the hand warding off a blow from a mounted Mexican cavalry colonel's saber. This colonel was killed and later identified as the brother of General Cos.

The fighting began around 4:30 p.m. and was over within eighteen minutes. Then the true carnage began.

Wounded in the leg, Mexican General Fernandez Castrillon jumped onto an ammunition box trying to rally his men. The rout was too complete. The stream of retreating soldiers ignored him. He stood ground, shouting, "I have been in forty battles and never once showed my back. I'm too old to do it now." Colonel Tom Rusk tried to save Castrillon, but failed as the Texians cut him down.

Other Texian officers tried desperately to stop the massacre. Colonel John Wharton was told by a soldier, "Colonel Wharton, if Jesus Christ were to come down from heaven and order me to quit shooting Santanistas, I wouldn't do it, sir." One eyewitness later recalled that the man then stepped back and cocked his rifle, leveling it at Wharton's chest. The witness later stated, "Wharton very discreetly (I always thought) turned his horse and left."

Houston cried to his men, "Gentlemen, I applaud your bravery, but damn your manners!"

The Mexican Army disintegrated. Santa Anna quickly grabbed a horse and fled toward Buffalo Bayou. The fleeing Mexican forces were driven back against the water and systematically killed. There are many documented reports of the Mexicans attempting to cross the waterway only to become bogged in the mud and shot down like stationary targets. Others died in the mud and water as their heads bobbed above the surface. The killing stopped only after darkness fell and at least 630 Mexican soldiers died that afternoon, most of them around the area of Peggy Lake near the rear of the Mexican camp.

A woman's body was also found near Peggy Lake.

Colonel Juan Almonte was able to rally some 600 Mexican soldiers and surrendered them after the slaughter stopped around nightfall. Sergeant Major Joel Burditt Crain received the sword from General Almonte and Col. Edward Burleson accepted it and the General's surrender.

Col. Delgado was also captured during the retreat:

"It would have been all over with us had not Providence placed us in the hands of that noble and generous captain of cavalry, Allen, who by great exertion saved us repeatedly-, from being slaughtered by the drunken and infuriated volunteers. Thence they marched us to their camp. I was barefooted; the prairie had recently been burned, and the stubble, hardened by the fire, penetrated like needles the soles of my feet, so that I could scarcely walk. This did not prevent them from striking me with the butt end of their guns because I did not walk as fast as they wished. These savages struck with their bayonets our wounded soldiers lying on the way; others following them consummated the sacrifice by a musket or a pistol shot. I cannot forbear the mention of an incident that affected me deeply, and, I believe, had the same effect on my companions. We were about one hundred and fifty officers and men picked up by Allen's party, who marched us to their camp under a close guard. I have no doubts that the Americans, amidst the hurrahs and exultation of their triumph, were lavish of insults; however, not understanding their language, we did not feel them. But one of our own countrymen, who had joined the enemy's cause, assailed us in our own language with such a volley of threats, insults, and abuse that the tongue of that vile and recreant Mexican seemed to have been wrought in the very caves of hell and set in motion by Lucifer himself."

"After keeping us sitting there about an hour and a half they marched us into the woods, where we saw an immense fire, made up of piles of wood, even whole, trees being used. I and several of my companions were silly enough to believe that we were about to be burnt alive in retaliation for those who had been burnt in the Alamo. We should have considered it an act of mercy to be shot first. Oh! The bitter and cruel moment. However, we felt considerably relieved when they placed us around the fire to warm ourselves and to dry our wet clothes. We were surrounded by twenty-five or thirty sentinels. You should have seen those men, or rather phantoms, converted into moving armories. Some wore two, three, and even four brace of pistols, a cloth bag of very respectable size filled with bullets, a powder-horn, a sabre or a bowie knife, besides a rifle, a musket, or carbine."

Roughly 650 Mexican soldiers died at San Jacinto and about 730 were taken prisoner. Only 70 or 80 actually escaped. Texian losses were two killed, six mortally wounded and another 18 less seriously wounded.

After the defeat of the Mexican forces Major John Forbes was placed in charge of the spoils of war and acquired Santa Anna's sword. One commentator at the scene noted, "The amount of plunder taken from the Mexicans was immense. It included several hundred horses and mules, six hundred muskets, three hundred sabers, two hundred pistols and nearly $12,000 in specie."

One casualty rarely mentioned in most accounts of the battle is the death of one noncombatant: a Mexican woman killed by the thrust of a saber. Her name is unknown and, although suspected, the name of her killer remains unknown. Reports from a court of inquiry after the battle and a subsequent civil lawsuit alleged that one of Sam Houston's senior officers had been charged with the murder.

In our more callused age, it may seem remarkable that the death of one Mexican woman in the course of a war would become so important as to lead to charges of cowardice and murder and countercharges of civil libel.

That the Texian forces at San Jacinto were an enraged and vengeance-seeking horde there could be no doubt. In many ways they were creatures of the world they had barely survived over the last two months.

By the same token, however, most were first and foremost southerners and products of that special heritage. Only days earlier, Sam Houston ordered an Anglo rapist hung and left displayed as the civilians filed by during the Runaway Scrape.A woman was supposed to enjoy the protection of their arms, especially a southern officer's arms.

As darkness fell on the 21st and the victorious Texans established small encampments around fires throughout the area amongst the bodies of the dead. Rumors started flying back and forth among the groups of men that one of the victims of the killing had been a Mexican woman. Worse, she had been killed by a saber thrust thought the chest.

The killing of an unarmed woman by saber was unfathomable to a man raised in the antebellum south. This was no accident and no random death by errant bullet. A valued southern code had been broken and even worse, allegedly broken by a senior Texan officer from the American south.

Rumors flew with the question, "Who would have killed an unarmed woman with a sabre?"

From several quarters came a reply, "Forbes."

Colonel John Forbes was one of Sam Houston's senior officers, the commissary general of the Texian forces. In a rebel army chronically short of food and supplies, no officer in that position could have been popular but Forbes had already been singled out prior to the battle as the object of ridicule and scorn.

John Forbes was well established in Texas prior to San Jacinto. A municipal judge from Nacogdoches, he had sworn in many of the Anglo volunteers who crossed the Sabine River. Davy Crockett was among them. With Sam Houston, he helped negotiate and sign the treaty with the Cherokee Indians that guaranteed their neutrality during the revolution.

He was not, however, a well-liked man. Darkness had not settled and the killing had not stopped that afternoon before reports began circulating that Forbes was plundering the spoils of war including a $12,000 Mexican war chest and gold objects taken from the bodies of dead officers.

On the morning following the killing, Second Lieutenant William Summers and Private Sam Woods observed the woman's body near Peggy Lake. Summers stated that she was, "young and long-haired and finely dressed." So who was this woman and why was she on the battlefield?

The Mexican army did utilize women to support the soldiers. Known as soldaderas, and often mistaken by writers as "camp followers," they were the wives, girlfriends, sisters, and mothers of the soldiers. They marched with the army from Mexico to San Jacinto. Many of them were in the Mexican encampment when the Texans attacked that afternoon. The soldaderas, however, were often impoverished and in poor health, just as the regular soldiers were. The woman killed at Peggy Lake was "finely dressed." She was likely no soldadera.

She might have been an officer's wife. They, too, traveled with the army. The question remains, however, why would she have been near the front line in the midst of the fighting?

She had been, though, and now she was dead and Colonel John Forbes was being blamed for her death. Forbes went to Sam Houston and demanded a court of inquiry to clear his name of the plundering and murder charges.

On the 22^nd, a Texian party searching for escaped Mexicans took a prisoner. Joel Robinson, who could speak Spanish, interrogated the prisoners who was "dressed in white linen pants and a blue troopers jacket ...but with red worsted slippers and a silk shirt buttoned with diamond studs. He was a cavalryman and [told Robinson] Santa Anna had escaped to Thompson's Pass farther south." At the point of a lance, the prisoner was marched back to camp, but finally complained he could go no further. Robinson's partner wanted to shoot him, but Robinson gave the prisoner a hand up and they rode together toward the camp. When they approached the other prisoners, Robinson learned who it was he carried on the back of his horse.

Every Mexican officer rose to his feet and the troops called out, "El Presidente!" Santa Anna had returned to his army.

From time to time there would come sporadic raids from Mexico. There would also be engagements on the high seas. To all intents and purposes, however, the Battle of San Jacinto ended the war. Texas was now an independent nation and Sam Houston was its national hero.

There was an inquiry held one week after the battle, to resolve the accusations against Col. Forbes in the saber death of the woman at San Jacinto. Sidney Sherman, no friend of Houston or of Forbes, was in charge of the investigation. Other members of the commission included Forbes' fellow senior officers.

They issued a statement that, "no evidence whatever in support of such charges or any grounds for censure against Colonel Forbes in the action of the 21^st," were substantiated. In fact, the court found that, "his conduct on that occasion to have been characterized as that of a courageous as well as human soldier." The document was signed by Judge Advocate Tinsley and Colonel Sherman and later co-endorsed by Commander-in-Chief Sam Houston, Inspector General George Hockley and Secretary of War Thomas Rusk.