Home of the Brave (33 page)

“Didn’t need one.” Yank sat
down and took off his boots to pour water out of them. “Santa
Anna’s just down the road.” He tossed his head.

“I know.”

“I’m not sure where Urrea
is, he may be trying to flank you. He knows where you’re
going.”

“Which way is he from
here?”

“North.”

“Then we’ll head south
toward the coast. What about Victoria?”

“Smith was right. The
Mexicans have it.”

“Are you going to tell me or
make me guess?”

“Just give me a minute to
wring some of this water out and I’ll tell you everything I
know.”

“You can talk while you
wring.”

“Well, instead of starting
his retreat on the 11
^th
, like he was supposed to,
Fannin sent Captain King and most of the fort’s wheels to evacuate
the civilians from Refugio.”

“Stupid bastard.”

“Two days later, Captain
King walked smack into Urrea’s army and sent a messenger back to
Fannin for help. Fannin responded by sending Colonel Ward and the
Georgia Battalion, but before they got there, Urrea surrounded King
and King surrendered.”

“With the carts and wagons,”
Houston grumbled.

“Yes, but it gets worse than
that,” Yank said. “Urrea executed King and all but one of his men
by firing squad.”

“
Jesus. Executed? When you
said worse I didn’t think you meant that much worse.”

“You don’t know what worse
means yet.” Yank took off the horse’s saddle and began rubbing the
animal down.

“Well, go on,” Houston
urged.

“Give me a second. This
isn’t easy to tell, Sam. I saw most of it with my own eyes. There
wasn’t a thing I could do but…” He shrugged. “It isn’t easy to
tell.”

Houston dismounted and took
a dry cloth and a currycomb from his saddle bag. “Let me do
that.”

Yank nodded and backed
away to take off his shirt. “Urrea’s advance units got to Goliad on
the 18
^th
. I tried to get past them to warn Fannin but they saw me and
I had to run for my life. At Coleto Creek, that’s maybe five miles
from the presidio, I stopped to rest my horse and I saw Fannin
surrounded by Urrea’s cavalry. I guess Fannin heard them shooting
at me and finally began to withdraw from the fort. But, as you
said, he had no carts or wagons so he was moving very slowly.” He
looked at Houston. “There was nothing I could do.”

“I know. Go on.”

“Fannin put up a hell of a
fight. By the time the sun had gone down, there were maybe two
hundred Mexican casualties and less than a dozen Texans. I was
hoping he’d make a break for the tree line where I was hiding but
he didn’t.”

“He probably didn’t want to
leave his wounded.”

“Could be. In his position I
would have left them to save the others.”

“So what happened? Fannin
surrendered?”

“Let me finish, God damn
it.”

“Okay, okay. Calm
down.”

“The next morning Urrea’s
main body arrived with three artillery pieces and Fannin
surrendered.” Yank looked away. “Shit.”

“They were
executed?”

Yank nodded. “I watched the
whole thing. I’ve been a soldier my whole life and I’ve seen a lot
of terrible things in battle, but I’ve never seen anything so
cold-blooded anywhere. After the firing squad fired their volley,
some of Fannin’s men were still alive. They bludgeoned any that
might be able to put up a fight, piled the dead and wounded like
cordwood and set them on fire. I could hear their screams from a
half mile away.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m not
finished.”

Houston looked at
him.

“Ward’s Georgia Battalion,
which Fannin sent out to reinforce King, was cut off so Ward
retreated to Victoria figuring that Fannin was there. When he got
there, the Mexicans sent out a messenger to tell Ward that Fannin
had surrendered and that his men would be exchanged if they
surrendered too. Ward took a vote, surrendered his weapons and was
marched back to Goliad where his whole command was executed and
burned just like Fannin’s people.”

“You can’t tell this to
anybody, Yank,” Houston said in horror. “These men hate all this
retreating and they’re near mutiny as it is. If they find out about
this, I won’t be able to hold them back.”

Yank nodded. “How’s the
training coming?”

“Slow. They’re not an army
that can stand up to Santa Anna yet, but they might be soon. If I
can just hold them together long enough.”

“How about your
officers?”

“Fine, except I’ve had to
threaten to shoot most of them. So far I’ve been lucky and learned
of any planned rebellion in advance, but my luck might run out any
time.”

“You can do this, Sam. I’m
confident.”

“I’ll feel better knowing
you’re here watching my back.”

April 21, 1836

San Jacinto River,
Texas

Sam Houston faced Texas
Secretary of War Thomas J. Rusk across a camp desk. “I have Santa
Anna now, Mr. Secretary. We’ll end it here, today.”

“President Burnet has some
serious concerns, General.”

“If we burn Vince’s Bridge,
Santa Anna’s trapped,” Houston insisted.

“If you’ll forgive me,
General,” Rusk said. “If you burn that bridge, you’re trapped
too.”

“Except I’m not going to
need to retreat.”

“I’d be much more confident
in that statement if you had won even a single battle against
General Santa Anna or General Cos. You’re facing them both, you
know. And you’re outnumbered.”

“This isn’t the same army
that I left Gonzales with, sir. They would have been destroyed
then, but they’re well trained and confident now.”

Rusk shook his head. “I
don’t know, General.”

“Let me put it another way,
Mr. Secretary. There’s going to be a battle today whether you,
President Burnet, or I like it or not. These men are sick and tired
of retreating. When we march through a town, we’re jeered as
cowards. If I tried to hold them back, they’d shoot me dead. After
I was dead they’d attack Santa Anna without any leaders. Is that
what you want?”

Rusk turned in his chair and
looked toward Yank, who was sitting silently in the corner of the
tent. “What do you think, General Van Buskirk?”

“Don’t ask me,” Yank said.
“I can’t figure out why you’re even having this conversation.
President Burnet has been hounding General Houston to stop and make
a stand and now that he’s doing it, you want to discuss
it.”

“I have a
responsibility…”

“Did you come here to
relieve General Houston?”

“Not exactly
but…”

“Then you must have come to
warn him that he’d be relieved if he didn’t make a stand. Burnet
isn’t creative enough to have given you any other
orders.”

“Yes but…”

“So you delivered your
message and General Houston is making a stand.”

“See here, sir,” Rusk said
angrily. “If you would let me finish a sentence I might be able to
explain.”

Yank shrugged.
“Finish.”

“General Houston is not
suggesting a stand; he’s suggesting an attack against a superior
and fortified force.”

“Fortified?” Yank made a
face. “Santa Anna’s stacked some baggage and a few sandbags to
protect his infantry. He’s so over-confident that he hasn’t even
posted lookouts. You asked me what I think. I think this army can
defeat the army of Santa Anna, capture or kill the president and
dictator of Mexico and end this war today.”

Rusk looked at the map for a
long time then nodded. “Very well.”

“You need to get out before
we burn the bridge,” Houston said to Rusk, in obvious
relief.

“No thank you,” Rusk
replied. “I’ll stay. Perhaps you could find me a sword?”

“I can.” Houston nodded then
turned toward the tent flap. “Officers call,” he
shouted.

Within minutes, the tent was
filled with chattering and excited men.

“This is very simple,”
Houston said to his officers. “Nothing fancy. Colonel
Sherman?”

“Sir.” Colonel Sidney
Sherman raised his hand.

“Your Second Volunteer
Regiment will be on the far left.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Colonel
Burleson?”

“Here, sir,” Colonel Edward
Burleson replied.

“Your First Volunteer
Regiment will be next in line on Sherman’s right.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Major Hockley will command
the two cannons in the center.”

“The Twin Sisters, sir.”
Major George W. Hockley said with a grin.

Houston smiled. “Yes of
course. I stand corrected. And we thank the citizens of Cincinnati,
Ohio for donating them to our noble cause.” He looked toward the
rear of the tent. “Major Hockley’s
Twin
Sisters
will be supported by the four
infantry companies of Captain Karnes.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Henry
Wax Karnes replied with a grin.

“The right wing will be
Colonel Millard’s Texas regulars.”

“Very well, sir.” Colonel
Henry Millard offered a sweeping bow.

“On our extreme right our
cavalry under command of Colonel Mirabeau B. Lamar will move to
turn the enemy’s left flank.” He smiled. “For those of you who do
not know Colonel Mirabeau B. Lamar, he was Private Mirabeau B.
Lamar until yesterday when he outfoxed Santa Anna’s cavalry and won
us this lovely position. You can congratulate him on his promotion
after we whip these Mexicans.”

~

Hidden from view by the high
ground between the two armies and a row of trees, Houston formed
his battle lines. Most of the men were dressed in buckskin breeches
that varied in color from yellow to black, depending upon the age
of the garment and the habits of the wearer. Foot coverings, if
any, were shoes or moccasins with only a few officers in leather
boots. Hats, shirts and ponchos were widely varied in color and
appearance. The only more or less uniform articles were a Spanish
gourd that each man carried as a canteen and a U.S. army ammo
pouch.

At about 4:30 PM, when Deaf
Smith rode back to the lines from the flames of Vince’s Bridge,
Houston’s army stepped forward to the tune of a fife. As they
topped the grade, Houston raised his sword and broke into a canter,
leading his running infantry. The surprised Mexicans, most of whom
were enjoying an afternoon siesta, could hardly believe their eyes
and no warning was given until Houston bellowed, “Remember the
Alamo!”

The cry was instantly
repeated by nine hundred voices.

The first volley was fired
by the Texans at a distance of only a few yards.

Santa Anna’s army was
professional. His soldiers quickly overcame the shock and ran for
their weapons. But the Texans were among them and no amount of
shouting by officers could manage to form them into effective
ranks.

Houston was shot in the
ankle and lost his seat. His aide rushed forward and helped him
remount but Houston had ridden only a few more yards when his horse
was shot from under him.

A few Mexican cavalrymen
were able to mount their horses bareback, but they could not muster
an effective force. For a moment, General Manuel Fernández
Castrillón was able to organize some infantrymen, but when he was
shot and killed the troops fled backward into Santa Anna’s ragged
defensive line.

Houston had been brought a
remount, but by the time he was back in the saddle, he had lost
control of his infantry. The Texans, hungry for revenge, were
driving the panicked Mexican soldiers into the rivers to drown or
killing them with bullets or bayonets when they surrendered. As he
rode forward, shouting at the men to stop the needless slaughter,
Houston’s latest horse was hit and went down, pinning Houston’s leg
beneath its body.

Seeing General Houston fall,
Secretary of War Rusk rode forward but was forced to stop and
receive the sword of General Juan Almonte, who surrendered his four
hundred remaining men.

At the same time, Houston
who had been fighting to extract his leg from under the dead horse,
redoubled his effort when he saw a Mexican soldier with a pike
racing toward him. Houston had lost his sword and both his pistols
were empty so he could do nothing but watch his executioner rush
toward him. However, the moment that the Mexican raised his arm to
strike, he was bowled over sideways and fell into the grass,
twitching.

Surprised to be alive,
Houston dragged himself free, got to his feet and looked back
toward the baggage train and camp followers to see Yank Van Buskirk
reloading a rifle.

The battle lasted less than
twenty minutes but the killing continued until dark.

June 28, 1836

Two Alone Ranch,
Texas