CHAPTER XIV
THE NEWS OF THE FALL
Five days before the fall of the Alamo a little group of men began togather at the village of Washington, on the Brazos river in Texas. Thename of the little town indicated well whence its people had come. Allthe houses were new, mostly of unpainted wood, and they contained someof the furniture of necessity, none of luxury. The first and mostimportant article was the rifle which the Texans never needed more thanthey did now.
But this new and little Washington was seething with excitement andsuspense, and its population was now more than triple the normal. Newshad come that the Alamo was beleaguered by a force many times asnumerous as its defenders, and that Crockett, Bowie, Travis and otherfamous men were inside. They had heard also that Santa Anna had hoistedthe red flag of no quarter, and that Texans everywhere, if taken, wouldbe slaughtered as traitors. The people of Washington had full cause fortheir excitement and suspense.
The little town also had the unique distinction of being a capital for aday or two. The Texans felt, with the news that Santa Anna had envelopedthe Alamo, that they must take decisive action. They believed that theMexicans had broken every promise to the Texans. They knew that not onlytheir liberty and property, but their lives, also, were in peril.Despite the great disparity of numbers it must be a fight to the deathbetween Texas and Mexico. The Texans were now gathering at Washington.
One man who inspired courage wherever he went had come already. SamHouston had ridden into town, calm, confident and talking only ofvictory. He was dressed with a neatness and care unusual on the border,wearing a fine black suit, while his face was shaded by the wide brim ofa white sombrero. The famous scouts, "Deaf" Smith and Henry Karnes, andyoung Zavala, whom Ned had known in Mexico, were there also.
Fifty-eight delegates representing Texas gathered in the largest room ofa frame building. "Deaf" Smith and Henry Karnes came in and sat withtheir rifles across their knees. While some of the delegates weretalking Houston signaled to the two, and they went outside.
"What do you hear from the Alamo, Smith?" asked Houston.
"Travis has fought off all the attacks of the Mexicans," replied thegreat borderer, "but when Santa Anna brings up his whole force an' makesa resolute assault it's bound to go under. The mission is too big an'scattered to be held by Travis an' his men against forty or fifty timestheir number."
"I fear so. I fear so," said Houston sadly, "and we can't get togetherenough men for its relief. All this quarreling and temporizing are ourruin. Heavens, what a time for disagreements!"
"There couldn't be a worse time, general," said Henry Karnes. "Me an''Deaf' would like mighty well to march to the Alamo. A lot of ourfriends are in there an' I reckon we've seen them for the last time."
The fine face of Houston grew dark with melancholy.
"Have you been anywhere near San Antonio?" he asked Smith.
"Not nearer than thirty miles," replied Smith, "but over at Goliad I sawa force under Colonel Fannin that was gettin' ready to start to therelief of Travis. With it were some friends of mine. There was Palmer,him they call the Panther, the biggest and strongest man in Texas; ObedWhite, a New Englander, an' a boy, Will Allen. I've knowed 'em well forsome time, and there was another that belonged to their little band. Buthe's in the Alamo now, an' they was wild to rescue him."
"Do you think Fannin will get through?" asked Houston.
"I don't," replied Smith decidedly, "an' if he did it would just meanthe loss of more good men for us. What do you think about it, Hank?"
"The same that you do," replied Karnes.
Houston pondered over their words a long time. He knew that they werethoroughly acquainted with Texas and the temper of its people, and herelied greatly on their judgment. When he went back in the room whichwas used as a convention hall Smith and Karnes remained outside.
Smith sat down on the grass, lighted a pipe and began to smokedeliberately. Karnes also sat down on the grass, lighted his own pipeand smoked with equal deliberation. Each man rested his rifle across hisknees.
"Looks bad," said Smith.
"Powerful bad."
"Almighty bad."
"Talkin's no good when the enemy's shootin'."
"Reckon there's nothin' left for us but this," tapping the barrel of hisrifle significantly.
"Only tool that's left for us to use."
"Reckon we'll soon have as many chances as we want to use it, an' more."
"Reckon you're Almighty right."
"An' we'll be there every time."
The two men reached over and shook hands deliberately. Houston by and bycame out again, and saw them sitting there smoking, two images ofpatience and quiet.
"Boys," he said, "you're not taking much part in the proceedings."
"Not much, just yet, Colonel Sam," replied Smith, "but we're waitin'. Ireckon that to-morrow you'll declare Texas free an' independent, a greatan' good republic. An' as there ain't sixty of you to declare it, mebbeyou'll need the help of some fellows like Hank an' me to make themresolutions come true."
"We will," said Houston, "and we know that we can rely upon you."
He was about to pass on, but he changed his mind and sat down with themen. Houston was a singular character. He had been governor of animportant state, and he had lived as a savage among savages. He couldadapt himself to any company.
"Boys," he said, "you know a merchant, John Roylston, who hasheadquarters in New Orleans, and also offices in St. Louis andCincinnati?"
"We do," said Smith, "an' we've seen him, too, more than once. He's beenin these parts not so long ago."
"He's in New Orleans now," said Houston. "He's the biggest trader alongthe coast. Has dealings with Santa Anna himself, but he's a friend ofTexas, a powerful one. Boys, I've in my pocket now an order from himgood for a hundred thousand dollars. It's to be spent buying arms andammunition for us. And when the time comes there's more coming from thesame place. We've got friends, but keep this to yourselves."
He walked on and the two took a long and meditative pull at their pipes.
"I reckon Roylston may not shoot as straight as we can," said Smith,"but mebbe at as long range as New Orleans he can do more harm to theMexicans than we can."
"Looks like it. I ain't much of a hand at money, but I like the looks ofthat man Roylston, an' I reckon the more rifles and the more ammunitionwe have the fewer Mexicans will be left."
The two scouts, having smoked as long as they wished, went to theirquarters and slept soundly through the night. But Houston and theleading Texans with him hardly slept at all. There was but one course tochoose, and they were fully aware of its gravity, Houston perhaps moreso than the rest, as he had seen more of the world. They worked nearlyall night in the bare room, and when Houston sought his room he wasexhausted.
Houston's room was a bare little place, lighted by a tallow candle, andalthough it was not long until day he sat there a while before lyingdown. A man of wide experience, he alone, with the exception ofRoylston, knew how desperate was the situation of the Texans. In truth,it was the money of Roylston sent from New Orleans that had caused himto hazard the chance. He knew, too, that, in time, more help wouldarrive from the same source, and he believed there would be a chanceagainst the Mexicans, a fighting chance, it is true, but men who werewilling to die for a cause seldom failed to win. He blew out the candle,got in bed and slept soundly.
"Deaf" Smith and Henry Karnes were up early--they seldom slept late--andsaw the sun rise out of the prairie. They were in a house which had asmall porch, looking toward the Brazos. After breakfast they lightedtheir cob pipes again, smoked and meditated.
"Reckon somethin' was done by our leadin' statesmen last night," saidSmith.
"Reckon there was," said Karnes.
"Reckon I can guess what it was."
"Reckon I can, too."
"Reckon I'll wait to hear it offish-ul-ly before I speak."
"Reckon I will, too. Lots of time wasted talkin'."
"Reckon you'
re right."
They sat in silence for a full two hours. They smoked the first hour,and they passed the second in their chairs without moving. They hadmastered the borderer's art of doing nothing thoroughly, when nothingwas to be done. Then a man came upon the porch and spoke to them. Hisname was Burnet, David G. Burnet.
"Good mornin'. How is the new republic?" said "Deaf" Smith.
"So you know," said Burnet.
"We don't know, but we've guessed, Hank an' me. We saw things as theywas comin'."
"I reckon, too," said Karnes, "that we ain't a part of Mexico any more."
"No, we're a free an' independent republic. It was so decided lastnight, and we've got nothing more to do now but to whip a nation ofeight millions, the fifty thousand of us."
"Well," said Smith philosophically, "it's a tough job, but it might bedid. I've heard tell that them old Greeks whipped the Persians when theodds were powerful high against them."
"That is true," said Burnet, "and we can at least try. We give thereason for declaring our independence. We assert to the world that theMexican republic has become a military despotism, that our agentscarrying petitions have been thrown in dungeons in the City of Mexico,that we have been ordered to give up the arms necessary for our defenceagainst the savages, and that we have been deprived of every rightguaranteed to us when we settled here."
"We're glad it's done, although we knew it would be done," said Smith."We ain't much on talkin', Mr. President, Hank an' me, but we can shootpretty straight, an' we're at your call."
"I know that, God bless you both," said Burnet. "The talking is over.It's rifles that we need and plenty of them. Now I've to see Houston.We're to talk over ways and means."
He hurried away, and the two, settling back into their chairs on theporch, relighted their pipes and smoked calmly.
"Reckon there'll be nothin' doin' for a day or two, Hank," said Smith.
"Reckon not, but we'll have to be doin' a powerful lot later, or behoofin' it for the tall timber a thousand miles north."
"You always was full of sense, Hank. Now there goes Sam Houston. Queerstories about his leavin' Tennessee and his life in the IndianTerritory."
"That's so, but he's an honest man, looks far ahead, an' 'tween you an'me, 'Deaf,' it's a thousand to one that he's to lead us in the war."
"Reckon you're guessin' good."
Houston, who had just awakened and dressed, was walking across the grassand weeds to meet Burnet. Not even he, when he looked at the tinyvillage and the wilderness spreading about it, foresaw how mighty astate was to rise from beginnings so humble and so small. He and Burnetwent back into the convention hall, and he wrote a fiery appeal to thepeople. He said that the Alamo was beleaguered and "the citizens ofTexas must rally to the aid of our army or it will perish."
Smith and Karnes remained while the convention continued its work. Theydid little ostensibly but smoke their cob pipes, but they observedeverything and thought deeply. On Sunday morning, five days after themen had gathered at Washington, as they stood at the edge of the littletown they saw a man galloping over the prairie. Neither spoke, butwatched him for a while, as the unknown came on, lashing a tired horse.
"'Pears to be in a hurry," said Smith.
"An' to be in a hurry generally means somethin' in these parts," saidKarnes.
"I'm makin' 'a guess."
"So am I, an' yours is the same as mine. He comes from the Alamo."
Others now saw the man, and there was a rush toward him. His horse fellat the edge of the town, but the rider sprang to his feet and cametoward the group, which included both Houston and Burnet. He was a wildfigure, face and clothing covered with dust. But he recognized Houstonand turned to him at once.
"You're General Houston, and I'm from the Alamo," he said. "I bring amessage from Colonel Travis."
There was a sudden and heavy intake of breath in the whole group.
"Then the Alamo has not fallen?" said Houston.
"Not when I left, but that was three days ago. Here is the letter."
It was the last letter of Travis, concluding with the words: "God andTexas; victory or death." But when the messenger put the letter intothe hands of Houston the Alamo had fallen two hours before.
The letter was laid before the convention, and the excitement was greatand irrepressible. The feelings of these stern men were moved deeply.Many wished to adjourn at once and march to the relief of the Alamo, butthe eloquence of Houston, who had been reelected Commander-in-chief,prevailed against the suggestion. Then, with two or three men, hedeparted for Gonzales to raise a force, while the others elected BurnetPresident of the new Texas, and departed for Harrisburg on BuffaloBayou.
"Deaf" Smith and Henry Karnes did not go just then with Houston. Theywere scouts, hunters and rough riders, and they could do as theypleased. They notified General Sam Houston, commander-in-chief of theTexan armies, that they would come on later, and he was content.
When the Texan government and the Texan army, numbering combined about ahundred men, followed by most of the population, numbering fifty orsixty more, filed off for Gonzales, the two sat once more on the sameporch, smoking their cob pipes. They were not ordinary men. They werenot ordinary scouts and borderers. One from the north and one from thesouth, they were much alike in their mental processes, their facultiesof keen observation and deep reasoning. Both were now stirred to thecore, but neither showed a trace of it on his face. They watched thelittle file pass away over the prairie until it was lost to sight behindthe swells, and then Smith spoke:
"I reckon you an' me, Hank, will ride toward the Alamo."
"I reckon we will, Deaf, and that right away."
Inside of five minutes they were on the road, armed and provisioned, thebest two borderers, with the single exception of the Panther, in all thesouthwest. They were mounted on powerful mustangs, which, with properhandling and judicious rests, could go on forever. But they pushed thema little that afternoon, stopped for two hours after sundown, and thenwent on again. They crossed the Colorado River in the night, swimmingtheir horses, and about a mile further on stopped in dense chaparral.They tethered the mustangs near them, and spread out their blankets.
"If anything comes the horses will wake us," said Smith.
"I reckon they will," said Karnes.
Both were fast asleep in a few minutes, but they awoke shortly aftersunrise. They made a frugal breakfast, while the mustangs had croppedshort grass in the night. Both horses and men, as tough and wiry as theyever become, were again as fresh as the dawn, and, with not more than adozen words spoken, the two mounted and rode anew on their quest. Alwayschary of speech, they became almost silence itself as they drew nearerto San Antonio de Bexar. In the heart of each was a knowledge of thegreat tragedy, not surmise, but the certainty that acute intelligencededuces from facts.
They rode on until, by a simultaneous impulse, the two reined theirhorses back into a cypress thicket and waited. They had seen threehorsemen on the sky line, coming, in the main, in their direction. Theirtrained eyes noticed at once that the strangers were of varying figure.The foremost, even at the distance, seemed to be gigantic, the secondwas very long and thin, and the third was normal. Smith and Karneswatched them a little while, and then Karnes spoke in words of trueconviction.
"It would be hard, Deaf, for even a bad eye to mistake the foremost."
"Right you are, Hank. You might comb Texas with a fine-tooth comb an'you'd never rake out such another."
"If that ain't Mart Palmer, the Ring Tailed Panther, I'll go straight toSanta Anna an' ask him to shoot me as a fool."
"You won't have to go to Santa Anna."
Smith rode from the covert, put his curved hand to his mouth, anduttered a long piercing cry. The three horsemen stopped at once, and thegiant in the lead gave back the signal in the same fashion. Then the twolittle parties rode rapidly toward each other. While they were yet fiftyyards apart they uttered words of hail and good fellowship, and whenthey met they shook hands with the fri
endship that has been sealed bycommon hardships and dangers.
"You're goin' toward the Alamo?" said Smith.
"Yes," replied the Panther. "We started that way several days ago, butwe've been delayed. We had a brush with one little party of Mexicans,and we had to dodge another that was too big for us. I take it that youride for the same place."
"We do. Were you with Fannin?"
The dark face of the Panther grew darker.
"We were," he replied. "He started to the relief of the Alamo, but theammunition wagon broke down, an' they couldn't get the cannon across theSan Antonio River. So me an' Obed White an' Will Allen here have come onalone."
"News for news," said Smith dryly. "Texas has just been made a free an'independent republic, an' Sam Houston has been made commander-in-chiefof all its mighty armies, horse, foot an' cannon. We saw all them thingsdone back there at Washington settlement, an' we, bein' a part of thearmy, are ridin' to the relief of the Alamo."
"We j'in you, then," said the Panther, "an' Texas raises two armies ofthe strength of three an' two to one of five. Oh, if only all the Texanshad come what a roarin' an' rippin' an' t'arin' and chawin' there wouldhave been when we struck Santa Anna's army, no matter how big it mightbe."
"But they didn't come," said Smith grimly, "an' as far as I know we fiveare all the Texans that are ridin' toward San Antonio de Bexar an' theAlamo."
"But bein' only five won't keep us from ridin' on," said the Panther.
"And things are not always as bad as they look," said Obed White, afterhe had heard of the messenger who had come to Houston and Unmet. "It'snever too late to hope."
The five rode fast the remainder of the day. They passed through asilent and desolate land. They saw a few cabins, but every one wasabandoned. The deep sense of tragedy was over them all, even over youngWill Allen. They rarely spoke, and they rode along in silence, save forthe beat of their horses' hoofs. Shortly before night they met a lonebuffalo hunter whom the Panther knew.
"Have you been close to San Antonio, Simpson?" asked the Panther, afterthe greeting.
"I've been three or four days hangin' 'roun' the neighborhood," repliedthe hunter. "I came down from the northwest when I heard that Santa Annawas advancing an' once I thought I'd make a break an' try to get intothe Alamo, but the Mexican lines was drawed too thick an' close."
"Have you heard anything about the men inside?" asked the Panthereagerly.
"Not a thing. But I've noticed this. A mornin' an' evenin' gun was firedfrom the fortress every day until yesterday, Sunday, an' sincethen--nothin'."
The silence in the little band was as ominous as the silence of themorning and evening gun. Simpson shook his head sadly.
"Boys," he said, "I'm goin' to ride for Gonzales an' join Houston. Idon't think it's any use for me to be hangin' aroun' San Antonio deBexar any longer. I wish you luck in whatever you're tryin' to do."
He rode away, but the five friends continued their course toward theAlamo, without hope now, but resolved to see for themselves. Deep in thenight, which fortunately for their purpose was dark, heavy cloudsshutting out the moon and stars, they approached San Antonio from theeast. They saw lights, which they knew were those of the town, but therewas darkness only where they knew the Alamo stood.
They tethered their horses in some bushes and crept closer, until theycould see the dim bulk of the Alamo. No light shone there. They listenedlong and intently, but not a single sound came from the great hecatomb.Again they crept nearer. There were no Mexican guards anywhere. A littlefurther and they stood by the low northern wall.
"Boys," said the Panther, "I can't stand it any longer. Queer feelin'sare runnin' all over me. No, I'm goin' to take the risk, if there isany, all alone. You wait for me here, an' if I don't come back in anhour then you can hunt for me."
The Panther climbed over the wall and disappeared. The others remainedin the deepest shadow waiting and silent. They were oppressed by theheavy gloom that hung over the Alamo. It was terrifying to young WillAllen, not the terror that is caused by the fear of men, but the terrorthat comes from some tragic mystery that is more than half guessed.
Nearly an hour passed, when a great figure leaped lightly from the walland joined them. The swarthy face of the Panther was as white as chalk,and he was shivering.
"Boys," he whispered, "I've seen what I never want to see ag'in. I'veseen red, red everywhere. I've been through the rooms of the Alamo, an'they're red, splashed with the red blood of men. The water in the ditchwas stained with red, an' the earth all about was soaked with it.Somethin' awful must have happened in the Alamo. There must have been aterrible fight, an' I'm thinkin' that most of our fellows must have diedbefore it was took. But it's give me the creeps, boys, an' I think we'dbetter get away."
"We can't leave any too quick to please me," said Will Alien. "I'mseeing ghosts all the time."
"Now that we know for sure the Alamo has fallen," said Smith, "nothin'is to be gained by stayin' here. It's for Sam Houston to lead us torevenge, and the more men he has the better. I vote we ride forGonzales."
"Seein' what we can see as we go," said Karnes. "The more information wecan pick up on the way about the march of the Mexicans the better itwill be for Houston."
"No doubt of that," said the Panther. "When we go to roarin' an' rippin'an' t'arin' we must know what we're about. But come on, boys, all thatred in the Alamo gives me conniption fits."
They rode toward the east for a long time until they thought they werebeyond the reach of Mexican skirmishing parties, and then they slept ina cypress thicket, Smith and Karnes standing guard by turns. Aseverybody needed rest they did not resume their journey the next dayuntil nearly noon, and they spent most of the afternoon watching forMexican scouts, although they saw none. They had a full rest that nightand the next day they rode slowly toward Gonzales.
About the middle of the afternoon, as they reached the crest of a swell,Will Allen uttered an exclamation, and pointed toward the easternhorizon. There they saw a single figure on horseback, and anotherwalking beside it. The afternoon sun was very bright, casting a glowover the distant figures, and, shading their eyes with their hands, theygazed at them a long time.
"It's a woman that's ridin'," said Smith at last, "an' she's carryin'some sort of a bundle before her."
"You're shorely right, Deaf," said Karnes, "an' I think the one walkin'is a black fellow. Looks like it from here."
"I'm your way of thinkin'," said the Panther, "an' the woman on thehorse is American, or I'm mightily fooled in my guess. S'pose we rideahead faster an' see for shore."
They increased the speed of their mustangs to a gallop and rapidlyoverhauled the little party. They saw the woman trying to urge her horseto greater speed. But the poor beast, evidently exhausted, made noresponse. The woman, turning in the saddle, looked back at her pursuers.
"By all that's wonderful!" exclaimed Obed White, "the bundle that she'scarrying is a baby!"
"It's so," said Smith, "an' you can see well enough now that she's oneof our own people. We must show her that she's got nothin' to fear fromus."
He shouted through his arched hands in tremendous tones that they wereTexans and friends. The woman stopped, and as they galloped up she wouldhave fallen from her horse had not Obed White promptly seized her and,dismounting, lifted her and the baby tenderly to the ground. The coloredboy who had been walking stood by and did not say anything aloud, butmuttered rapidly: "Thank the Lord! Thank the Lord!"
Three of the five were veteran hunters, but they had never before foundsuch a singular party on the prairie. The woman sat down on the ground,still holding the baby tightly in her arms, and shivered all over. TheTexans regarded her in pitying silence for a few minutes, and then ObedWhite said in gentle tones:
"We are friends, ready to take you to safety. Tell us who you are."
"I am Mrs. Dickinson," she replied.
"Deaf" Smith looked startled.
"There was a Lieutenant Dickinson in the Alamo," he said.
"I am his wife," she replied, "and this is our child."
"And where is----" Smith stopped suddenly, knowing what the answer mustbe.
"He is dead," she replied. "He fell in the defence of the Alamo."
"Might he not be among the prisoners?" suggested Obed White gently.
"Prisoners!" she replied. "There were no prisoners. They fought to thelast. Every man who was in the Alamo died in its defence."
The five stared at her in amazement, and for a little while none spoke.
"Do you mean to say," asked Obed White, "that none of the Texanssurvived the fall of the Alamo?"
"None," she replied.
"How do you know?"
Her pale face filled with color. It seemed that she, too, at that momentfelt some of the glow that the fall of the Alamo was to suffuse throughTexas.
"Because I saw," she replied. "I was in one of the arched rooms of thechurch, where they made the last stand. I saw Crockett fall and I sawthe death of Bowie, too. I saw Santa Anna exult, but many, many Mexicansfell also. It was a terrible struggle. I shall see it again every day ofmy life, even if I live to be a hundred."
She covered her face with her hands, as if she would cut out the sightof that last inferno in the church. The others were silent, stunned forthe time.
"All gone," said Obed White, at last. "When the news is spread thatevery man stood firm to the last I think it will light such a fire inTexas that Santa Anna and all his armies cannot put it out."
"Did you see a boy called Ned Fulton in the Alamo, a tall, handsomefellow with brown hair and gray eyes?" asked Obed White.
"Often," replied Mrs. Dickinson. "He was with Crockett and Bowie a greatdeal."
"And none escaped?" said Will Allen.
"Not one," she repeated, "I did not see him in the church in the finalassault. He doubtless fell in the hospital or in the convent yard. Ah,he was a friend of yours! I am sorry."
"Yes, he was a friend of ours," said the Panther. "He was more than thatto me. I loved that boy like a son, an' me an' my comrades here mean tosee that the Mexicans pay a high price for his death. An' may I ask,ma'am, how you come to be here?"
She told him how Santa Anna had provided her with the horse, and hadsent her alone with the proclamation to the Texans. At the Salado Creekshe had come upon the negro servant of Travis, who had escaped from SanAntonio, and he was helping her on the way.
"An' now, ma'am," said "Deaf" Smith, "we'll guard you the rest of theway to Gonzales."
The two little groups, now fused into one, resumed their journey overthe prairie.