Remember the Alamo [92]
a silver sound, inspired all
who heard it with courage. His large, bright visage, serious
but hopeful, seemed to sun the camp. "They live too long," he
cried, "who outlive freedom. And I promise you that you shall
have a full cup of vengeance. For every man that fell
fighting at the Alamo, for every one treacherously
slaughtered at Goliad, you shall be satisfied. If I seem
to be flying before the enemy now, it is for his destruction.
Three Mexican armies united, we cannot fight. We can fight
them singly. And every mile we make them follow us weakens
them, separates them, confuses them. The low lands of the
Brazos, the unfordable streams, the morasses, the pathless
woods, are in league with us. And we must place our women and
children in safety. Even if we have to carry them to General
Gaines and the United States troops, we must protect them,
first of all. I believe that we shall win our freedom with
our own hands; but if the worst come, and we have to fall back
to the Sabine, we shall find friends and backers there. I
know President Jackson, my old general, the unconquered
Christian Mars! Do you think he will desert his countrymen?
Never! If we should need help, he has provided it. And the
freedom of Texas is sure and certain. It is at hand. Prepare
to achieve it. We shall take up our march eastward in three
hours."
Ringing shouts answered the summons. The camp was in a tumult
of preparation immediately; Houston was lending his great
physical strength to the mechanical difficulties to be
encountered. A crowd of men was around. Suddenly a woman
touched him on the arm, and he straightened himself and looked
at her.
"You will kill Santa Anna, General? You will kill this fiend
who has escaped from hell! By the mother of Christ, I ask
it."
"My dear madam!"
He was so moved with pity that he could not for a moment or
two give her any stronger assurance. For this suppliant,
pallid and frenzied with sorrow, was the once beautiful Senora
Worth. He looked at her hollow eyes, and shrunk form, and
worn clothing, and remembered with a pang, the lovely,
gracious lady clad in satin and lace, with a jewelled comb in
her fine hair and a jewelled fan in her beautiful hands, and
a wave of pity and anger passed like a flame over his face.
"By the memory of my own dear mother, Senora, I will make
Santa Anna pay the full price of his cruelties."
"Thank you, Senor"; and she glided away with her tearless eyes
fixed upon the curl of black hair in her open palm.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE LOADSTONE IN THE BREAST.
"But to the hero, when his sword
Has won the battle for the free,
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word,
And in its hollow tones are heard.
The thanks of millions yet to be,"
"Who battled for the true and just,
"And grasps the skirts of happy chance,
And breasts the blows of circumstance.
"And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees."
The memorial of wrongs, which resulted in the Declaration of
Texan Independence, was drawn up with statesmanlike ability by
David G. Burnett, a native of New Jersey, a man of great
learning, dignity, and experience; who, as early as 1806,
sailed from New York to join Miranda in his effort to give
Spanish America liberty. The paper need not be quoted here.
It gave the greatest prominence to the refusal of
trial by jury, the failure too establish a system of public
education, the tyranny of military law, the demand that the
colonists should give up arms necessary for their protection
or their sustenance, the inciting of the Indians to massacre
the American settlers, and the refusal of the right to worship
the Almighty according to the dictates of their own
consciences. Burnett was elected Governor, and Houston felt
that he could now give his whole attention to military
affairs.
The seat of Government was removed to Harrisburg, a small
place on the Buffalo Bayou;
who heard it with courage. His large, bright visage, serious
but hopeful, seemed to sun the camp. "They live too long," he
cried, "who outlive freedom. And I promise you that you shall
have a full cup of vengeance. For every man that fell
fighting at the Alamo, for every one treacherously
slaughtered at Goliad, you shall be satisfied. If I seem
to be flying before the enemy now, it is for his destruction.
Three Mexican armies united, we cannot fight. We can fight
them singly. And every mile we make them follow us weakens
them, separates them, confuses them. The low lands of the
Brazos, the unfordable streams, the morasses, the pathless
woods, are in league with us. And we must place our women and
children in safety. Even if we have to carry them to General
Gaines and the United States troops, we must protect them,
first of all. I believe that we shall win our freedom with
our own hands; but if the worst come, and we have to fall back
to the Sabine, we shall find friends and backers there. I
know President Jackson, my old general, the unconquered
Christian Mars! Do you think he will desert his countrymen?
Never! If we should need help, he has provided it. And the
freedom of Texas is sure and certain. It is at hand. Prepare
to achieve it. We shall take up our march eastward in three
hours."
Ringing shouts answered the summons. The camp was in a tumult
of preparation immediately; Houston was lending his great
physical strength to the mechanical difficulties to be
encountered. A crowd of men was around. Suddenly a woman
touched him on the arm, and he straightened himself and looked
at her.
"You will kill Santa Anna, General? You will kill this fiend
who has escaped from hell! By the mother of Christ, I ask
it."
"My dear madam!"
He was so moved with pity that he could not for a moment or
two give her any stronger assurance. For this suppliant,
pallid and frenzied with sorrow, was the once beautiful Senora
Worth. He looked at her hollow eyes, and shrunk form, and
worn clothing, and remembered with a pang, the lovely,
gracious lady clad in satin and lace, with a jewelled comb in
her fine hair and a jewelled fan in her beautiful hands, and
a wave of pity and anger passed like a flame over his face.
"By the memory of my own dear mother, Senora, I will make
Santa Anna pay the full price of his cruelties."
"Thank you, Senor"; and she glided away with her tearless eyes
fixed upon the curl of black hair in her open palm.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE LOADSTONE IN THE BREAST.
"But to the hero, when his sword
Has won the battle for the free,
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word,
And in its hollow tones are heard.
The thanks of millions yet to be,"
"Who battled for the true and just,
"And grasps the skirts of happy chance,
And breasts the blows of circumstance.
"And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees."
The memorial of wrongs, which resulted in the Declaration of
Texan Independence, was drawn up with statesmanlike ability by
David G. Burnett, a native of New Jersey, a man of great
learning, dignity, and experience; who, as early as 1806,
sailed from New York to join Miranda in his effort to give
Spanish America liberty. The paper need not be quoted here.
It gave the greatest prominence to the refusal of
trial by jury, the failure too establish a system of public
education, the tyranny of military law, the demand that the
colonists should give up arms necessary for their protection
or their sustenance, the inciting of the Indians to massacre
the American settlers, and the refusal of the right to worship
the Almighty according to the dictates of their own
consciences. Burnett was elected Governor, and Houston felt
that he could now give his whole attention to military
affairs.
The seat of Government was removed to Harrisburg, a small
place on the Buffalo Bayou;