Texas Rising

by Stephen L. Moore

  On the main battlefield, Sidney Sherman and his men began taking prisoners of those Mexicans who chose to surrender. Some of the regular army soldiers moved about near the breastworks, running bayonets through wounded soldados. Hundreds of other Mexicans threw down their weapons and surrendered en masse. Among them was Colonel Juan Almonte, one of Santa Anna’s English-speaking aides.

  General Houston became disgusted with the actions of many of his men as evening approached. They had fired most of their ammunition and had splintered many of their rifles while bashing skulls. He feared that even a small force of fresh Mexican troops arriving on the scene might overpower his rejoicing troops. He had to call off Colonel Wharton, who was eager to continue attacking Cos’s reinforcement troops, from further action. Houston, weak from blood loss and riding his third horse, tried in vain three times to order his men to form into line and fall back to camp. No one paid him the least bit of attention.38

  Wheeling his horse back toward the Mexican camp, Houston snapped, “Men, I can gain victories with you, but damn your manners!”

  The sun was setting behind the big trees around the Mexican camp. Houston congratulated Sidney Sherman en route to the camp area. He then noticed Colonel Rusk approaching through the fading light and leading several hundred Mexican prisoners. Perhaps light-headed from blood loss and unable to make out the throng clearly, Houston reportedly exclaimed, “My God, all is lost!”39

  Captain Turner of the regulars quickly handed the general his spyglass to see that Rusk was marching with prisoners. Bill Millen, Turner’s first lieutenant, could not help from chiding Houston: “General, Colonel Rusk has a very respectable army, eh, sir?”

  General Houston was helped from his borrowed horse and the Texian surgeon general, Dr. Alexander Ewing, began working on his shattered left leg. His wound was later diagnosed as a compound fracture of the left tibia and fibula, just above the ankle. Hundreds of Mexican prisoners, many of them wounded, were marched back into Santa Anna’s old camp as darkness approached. A crude stockade of battlefield debris was constructed to contain them. Artillerymen turned both the Twin Sisters and the Golden Standard on the prisoner pin, ready to rain down grapeshot if any escape was attempted.

  More than six hundred Mexican officers and soldiers had been slain in the battle at San Jacinto. More than seven hundred soldiers were eventually captured and more than two hundred of them were wounded. Colonel Thomas Rusk would write of his nine-hundred-odd fellow Texan troops, “This brave band achieved a victory as glorious as any on the records of history, and the happy consequences will be felt in Texas by succeeding generations.”40

  During the battle, only seven Texans had been killed outright. Four others were so badly wounded that they would not survive, but only thirty others had been wounded. Sergeant William C. Swearingen penned a letter back home to his family in Kentucky, summarizing the good fortunes the frontiersmen had enjoyed at San Jacinto. “To see the number, the position, and the termination and the time in which it was done (time 18 minutes), it at once shows that the hand of Providence was with us.”41

  James Tarlton, a well-educated Kentucky politician, poetically summed up San Jacinto in writing on April 22, “Such slaughter on the one side and such almost miraculous preservation on the other have never been heard of since the invention of gunpowder.”42

  15

  TEXAS RISING

  PRIVATE GEORGE ERATH WAS in awe of the pile of Mexican booty seized by the Texas Army. Colonel Burleson had detailed him and William Simmons, another volunteer from Jesse Billingsley’s Bastrop company, to guard the mass of goods seized in Santa Anna’s camp throughout the night of April 21.

  Erath saw ornate furniture, fine silverware, considerable food supplies, and other treasures “such as a European prince might take with him into the field.” The most tempting prize to the haggard victors of the day’s battle, however, was a six-foot-tall pyramid containing several dozen baskets of champagne that was discovered. Burleson had instructed the two soldiers to guard the valuables well, but said they could share some of the food with hungry Texans.1

  Simmons decided that the champagne fell under the “food” category and began liberally distributing bottles to stragglers as they returned to the camp. Word of the champagne spread and Erath found “we had plenty of company of officers for the rest of the night. I don’t think much of the wine was left. I took my carouse in eating sugar while others drank.”

  Dr. Lorenzo de Zavala’s home, located across Buffalo Bayou from the battlefield, served as a makeshift hospital through the evening. Henry Karnes and the Texas spies were busily searching long before daybreak for other Mexican soldiers who had escaped the main field. Generals Cos and Santa Anna eluded their pursuers for the time being, but the horsemen did round up other prisoners. The main battlefield was a grisly scene, with clusters of dead and dying soldados lying in every direction. Samuel Hardaway, gazing upon the scene, found that only the recollections of the dreadful massacre his fellow Texans had endured at the Alamo and at Goliad relieved his feelings from the horrors of the present landscape.2

  One of those captured was Ramón Caro, the personal secretary of His Excellency. Vengeful Texans were eager to kill him, but he was brought before Sam Houston for questioning. The Texan general knew that the victory at San Jacinto would be a hollow one should the Mexican commander in chief manage to elude his scouts. Santa Anna had spent the night hiding in tall grass near the bayou. After dawn, he crossed the waist-deep creek before finding a deserted servants’ quarters on the Vince ranch. He pulled some old slave clothes—including a blue cotton round jacket and cotton pantaloons—over his fine diamond-studded linen shirt. Santa Anna then donned an old hide cap, wrapped a horse blanket around himself as a serape, and then set off again down the bayou, still wearing his morocco slippers.

  His good fortunes expired in the late afternoon of April 22 when he was approached by a six-man scout patrol under Sergeant James Sylvester. They had actually spotted a herd of four or five deer on the west side of a branch that fed into Buffalo Bayou. Sylvester had dismounted from his horse, crept closer to the deer, and was raising his rifle to fire on them. The deer were suddenly spooked, raised their white tails, and bounded away with their flags flying. The sergeant shifted his gaze and spotted the culprit: a Mexican soldier racing for a nearby bridge had startled them.3

  Sylvester’s party surrounded the Mexican, who was dressed in a dingy-looking common soldier’s uniform. Joel Robison, who could speak Spanish, interrogated their prisoner. He stated that he was not an officer, but a cavalryman who had been displaced from his horse in the previous evening’s battle. The scouts hauled their captured man back to the former Mexican Army camp to deposit him in the prisoner bullpen. There arose some commotion among the other prisoners, who recognized Santa Anna instantly. Wise officers yelled at the others to shut their mouths, but it was too late.

  Privates James Winters and Stephen Sparks noticed many excited Mexican soldiers jumping to their feet, clapping their hands, and saying, “Santa Anna.” Private Sion Bostick, one of the captors, recalled, “We knew then that we had made a big haul.” Former ranger captain William Sadler stepped up to the prisoner and ripped open his ragged blue cotton round-jacket—clearly revealing the fine linen shirt beneath with its sparkling diamond studs.4

  Sam Houston was lying on a blanket dozing beneath a large oak tree in camp when President Santa Anna was led before him. The general had his wounded left leg propped up. Colonel Forbes shook him awake as Santa Anna addressed Houston, telling him that he was surrendering as a prisoner of war. Not understanding the language, Houston had Forbes fetch a proper translator. In the meantime, the crowd grew restless.

  “Shoot him!” some shouted.

  “Hang him!”

  Soldiers pressed in closer to curse and shout at the Mexican leader who had ordered the murders of the Alamo and Goliad survivors. Colonel Hockley had to place a guard group around the general’s area to control the unruly crow
d, many of whom shouted for Houston to execute Santa Anna.

  Moses Austin Bryan helped translate for Sam Houston until guards could fetch Ramón Caro. Bryan recalled that Santa Anna’s confessions before the Texas leader translated as: “I am Antonio López de Santa Anna, President of Mexico, Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Operations, and I put myself at the disposition of the brave General Houston. I wish to be treated as a general should when a prisoner of war.”5

  Angry Texans shouted that Santa Anna deserved only death. General Houston demanded that Colonel Almonte be summoned to verify the identity of Santa Anna. The great Mexican conqueror, perceiving that Houston enjoyed the attention of praise, continued to pepper him with compliments. He called Houston “the Wellington of the times” and compared the Texans’ victory with that of the British and Prussian victory over the French in 1815 at Waterloo. Colonel Forbes soon returned with Almonte, the senior Mexican officer who spoke fluent English. The early interrogations only inflamed the Texian crowd more. When asked to explain the massacre of Travis and his men at the Alamo, Santa Anna stated that it was customary to “put all to the sword” when such a small force refused to surrender and forced such casualties on a superior attacking force.6

  Santa Anna’s initial attempts at diplomatic negotiations soon crumbled. He became frazzled under the grilling he endured from Houston and Rusk. Secretary Caro, sent to fetch the general’s official correspondence papers, also returned with El Presidente’s medicine box. Santa Anna reportedly restored his own calm with a quick dose of opium from the box. After some discussions, he agreed to issue orders to have his remaining troops in country fall back toward Mexico. Caro wrote out three sets of orders for Generals Filisola, Gaona, and Urrea to withdraw their forces. Filisola was further ordered to release any prisoners and send them to San Felipe de Austin. Santa Anna signed the official papers with the dateline from “camp of San Jacinto, April 22, 1836.”7

  DEAF SMITH RODE INTO the night of April 22 with two companions. He carried with him copies of Santa Anna’s truce agreement and the dispatches written to his subordinate officers. En route, he unknowingly apprehended a Mexican man traveling on foot who was none other than Santa Anna’s own brother-in-law, General Martín Cos. The identity of Cos was not determined until he was hauled back into the Texian camp.

  On April 23, Vice President Zavala and Colonel James Morgan reached the San Jacinto battlegrounds from Galveston via the steamboat Cayuga. The victorious Texans remained camped at San Jacinto for several days as General Houston continued his talks with Santa Anna. The four-thousand-plus Mexican troops still stationed in Texas slowly received the news and the official dispatches that ordered them to retreat toward their home country. They were followed by Texian forces and their retreat was a long, trying struggle through lowlands bogged with mud.

  Ranch owner Peggy McCormick returned to her property to find it strewn with some two hundred rifles smashed to pieces and hundreds of dead bodies. She furiously approached General Houston where he lay wounded in his camp, demanding that he “take them dead Mexicans off my league.” She said they would “haunt” her the rest of her life.8

  “Madam, your land will be famed in history as the classic spot upon which the glorious victory of San Jacinto was gained!” Houston replied. “Here was born, in the throes of revolution, the infant of Texas independence! Here that latest scourge of mankind, the arrogantly self-styled ‘Napoleon of the West,’ met his fate!”

  McCormick was unimpressed. “To the devil with your glorious history! Take off your stinking Mexicans!”

  Houston’s army finally moved six miles from the battlefield on April 26 to get away from the stench of rotting bodies. There the victors held a booty auction. Some twelve thousand dollars from Santa Anna’s personal war chest was split among the soldiers who had fought at San Jacinto. Each man was allowed to bid on the various spoils of war captured from their opposing army. Colonel Sidney Sherman walked away from the auction with a fine officer’s sword, adorned with heavy gold on its hilt and scabbard. Santa Anna’s decorative saddle sold for eight hundred dollars. Texans draped their newly purchased mules and horses with red and green cords and glittering Mexican Army epaulets. Colonel Pedro Delgado felt the victorious frontiersmen looked like “bull-fight clowns.”9

  SURGEON ALEXANDER EWING FEARED that Sam Houston might die if he did not receive proper medical attention for his badly infected leg wound. As he prepared to depart for New Orleans on May 3, Houston resigned his commission and Thomas Rusk took over as major general of the Texas Army. Rusk’s resigned position as secretary of war was filled by the election of Colonel Mirabeau Lamar. The Georgia poet who had been a lowly volunteer private three weeks before had thus reached the highest military position in Texas in less than a month. Such were the opportunities in a renegade fledgling nation where battlefield valor could determine one’s entire future.

  The Mexican prisoners of San Jacinto were herded onto the steamboat Yellow Stone and moved to Galveston. They were detained there until mid-August under deplorable conditions until they were released to make their way back to their home country. President Burnet and his cabinet worked out a treaty with Santa Anna at the port of Velasco and signed it on May 14. The Velasco Treaty spelled out that all hostilities would cease between Texas and Mexico and that all Mexican troops would evacuate Texas. Santa Anna signed a second document in which he swore to use his influence once he was returned to Mexico to have his country acknowledge Texas independence.10

  Santa Anna was held prisoner until the fall of 1836, when he was escorted to Washington, D.C., to be questioned by the U.S. government. Colonel George Hockley and a small party departed Brazoria County in late November to deliver El Presidente and his top English-speaking officer, Colonel Almonte. They traveled by horses and by boat, reaching the capital on January 18, 1837. President Jackson greeted Santa Anna warmly and honored him with a dinner attended by many dignitaries. The defeated Mexican dictator reportedly proposed to cede Texas to the United States for a fair price, but “Old Hickory” was aware that Santa Anna was in no position to carry out such a bargain.11

  Santa Anna would eventually return to power within Mexico after defeating French troops in 1838. For the moment, however, he was a broken man. Andrew Jackson arranged for a sailing vessel to transport him back to his home near Veracruz, where Santa Anna remained in seclusion for some time—disillusioned and resentful. He later wrote, “It seemed that my country had abandoned me to my enemies.”

  16

  NEW CHALLENGES FOR

  A NEW NATION

  THE TEXAS RANGERS GAINED a new level of importance during the early months of independence in the new Republic of Texas.

  None of the three legally created ranging systems had ever reached full capacity during the Texas Revolution, but each had served an important role in maintaining frontier peace during the absence of regular army companies. These rangers were instrumental in building or manning at least four frontier outposts. Two companies had skirmishes with Indians during the revolution and one entire ranger company had paid the ultimate price for Texas independence in being sacrificed at the Alamo. At least eighty-three men involved in the ranging service during the Texas Revolution were either present on the San Jacinto battlefield or were stationed at Harrisburg guarding the baggage on April 21.

  The great Runaway Scrape was contained as word of the Texan victory spread. The Texas Army and its cavalry monitored the slow retreat of Mexican troops from their country as peace negotiations were conducted with Santa Anna on the Texas coast. The Texas Rangers were revamped to help maintain order throughout the republic. Major Willie Williamson had ceased to be involved with his battalion and the regional ranging system headed by area superintendents had largely lapsed. Three of the council-approved superintendents—Garrison Greenwood, Daniel Friar, and George Davis—were no longer functioning in such a role. As of May 1836, only Silas Parker remained, in charge of Captain James Parker’s small ranging unit at Fort Sterlin
g.

  The third ranger organization that had been approved by the Constitutional Convention did remain in service after San Jacinto. Colonel Jesse Benton was absent in the vicinity of the U.S. border on the Red River but his subordinate, Lieutenant Colonel Griffin Bayne, became the active organizer and commander of the various ranging units still in the vicinity of the San Jacinto battleground.

  Bayne promoted several officers on May 8 to regroup three companies to carry on his ranger regiment. The first company was headed by Captain E. L. Ripley Wheelock, a New England native who had attended the West Point military college and had served in both the War of 1812 and the Black Hawk War. Griffin Bayne directed the activities of three other ranger companies under Captains William Wilson, John Tumlinson, and Isaac Burton. The latter two units had largely scattered during the Runaway Scrape and the San Jacinto battle but both men had since resumed command of their rangers.1

  TROUBLES WITH THE INDIANS returned to the pioneer settlements almost as soon as the Texas Revolution was concluded.

  Near Bastrop on May 14, a party of about a dozen Comanches appeared in one of the fields near the home of Reuben Hornsby. They carried a white flag of peace as they approached a group of Anglo settlers working the crops. John Williams and Howell Haggard, two former Tumlinson rangers, were the closest as the Comanches moved forward. Without warning, they were suddenly speared with lances and shot down in cold blood. The other men ran for cover and swam the river to escape while the marauding Indians rounded up all the cattle in the settlement and moved on.2

  Only days later, one of the most famous Indian raids of early Texas history took place at a revolutionary ranger outpost. Around 9 A.M. on May 19, hundreds of Comanches and Kichai (known as Caddos to the settlers) appeared in the open prairie near Parker’s Fort, which had been known in earlier months as Fort Sterling.