“Remember my boys, you are fighting for Texas and your loved ones, to avenge the inhuman butchery of your friends and comrades at the Alamo and at Goliad! The spirits of these brave men call to us for revenge. Remember your wives and little children who are now in flight to escape the fury of the ruthless invaders; the redbanded war lord, Santa Anna, having boasted be would pursue and annihilate the rebel Texans and then wash his hands of their blood in the Sabine. The time and the situation is here and we will win if everyone does his duty. We must win or die. Let us fight fast and hard.”
–General Sam Houston, as related by DeWitt Colonist Creed Taylor
Silently and tensely the Texas battle line swept across the prairie and swale that was No Man’s land, the men bending low. A soldier’s fife piped up with “Will You Come to the Bower,”‘ a popular tune of the day. That was the only music of the battle. [Several veterans of the battle said the tune played was "Yankee Doodle."] As the, troops advanced, “Deaf” Smith galloped up and told Houston, “Vince’s bridge has been cut down.” The General announced it to the men. Now both armies were cut off from retreat in all directions but one, by a roughly circular moat formed by Vince’s and Buffalo Bayous to the west and north, San Jacinto River to the north and cast, and by the marshes and the bay to the east and southeast.
At close range, the two little cannon, drawn by rawhide thongs, were wheeled into position and belched their charges of iron slugs into the enemy barricade. Then the whole line, led by Sherman’s men, sprang forward on the run, yelling, “Remember the Alamo!” “Remember Goliad!” All together they opened fire, blazing away practically point-blank at the surprised and panic-stricken Mexicans. They stormed over the breastworks, seized the enemy’s artillery, and joined in hand-to-hand combat, emptying their pistols, swinging their guns as clubs, slashing right and left with their knives. Mexicans fell by the scores under the impact of the savage assault.
General Manuel Fernández Castrillón, a brave Mexican, tried to rally the swarthy Latins, but he was killed and his men became crazed with fright. Many threw down their guns and ran; many wailed, “Me no Alamo!” “Me no Goliad!” But their pleas won no mercy. The enraged revolutionists reloaded and chased after the stampeding enemy, shooting them, stabbing them, clubbing them to death. From the moment of the first collision the battle was a slaughter, frightful to behold. The fugitives ran in wild terror over the prairie and into the boggy marshes, but the avengers of the Alamo and Goliad followed and slew them, or drove them into the waters to drown. Men and horses, dead and dying, in the morass in the rear and right of the Mexican camp, formed a bridge for the pursuing Texans. Blood reddened the water. General Houston tried to check the execution but the fury of his men was beyond restraint.
Some of the Mexican cavalry tried to escape over Vince’s bridge, only to find that the bridge was gone. In desperation, some of the flying horsemen spurred their mounts down the steep bank; some dismounted and plunged into the swollen stream. The Texans came up and poured a deadly fire into the welter of Mexicans struggling with the flood. Escape was virtually impossible. General Houston rode slowly from the field of victory, his ankle shattered by a rifle ball. At the foot of the oak where he bad slept the previous night be fainted and slid from his horse into the arms of Major Hockley, his chief of staff.
“………waving his hat and shouting “San Jacinto! San Jacinto! The Mexicans are whipped and Santa Anna a prisoner.” The scene that followed beggars description. People embraced, laughed and wept and prayed, all in one breath. As the moon rose over the vast flower-decked prairie, the soft southern wind carried peace to tired hearts and grateful slumber. As battles go, San Jacinto was but a skirmish; but with what mighty consequences! The lives and the liberty of a few hundred pioneers at stake and an empire won! Look to it, you Texans of today, with happy homes, mid fields of smiling plenty, that the blood of the Alamo, Goliad, and San Jacinto sealed forever . Texas, one and indivisible!
–Ms. Kate Scurry Terrell describing the scene among refugee families on the Sabine River.
That, of course, is The Original Texas Ass-Whoopin’. God bless Sam Houston, I’ve got my Lone Star flag flying, and the Shiner Bock cooling, and the Waylon playing. Put that in your reconquista pipe and smoke it.
For you non-Texans who aren’t all teared up and with a lump in your throat, here’s the Wikipedia doodad.
Play “Spot the Stereotypes” in the comments.
