THE TAKING OF THE TOWN
The December sun, clear and cold,
bathed the whole town in light. Houses, whether
of stone, adobe or wood, were tinted a while with gold,
but everywhere in the streets and over the roofs floated
white puffs of smoke from the firing, which had never
ceased on the part of the Mexicans. The crash
of rifles and muskets was incessant, and every minute
or two came the heavy boom of the cannon with which
Cos swept the streets. The Texans themselves
now pulled the trigger but little, calmly waiting
their opportunity.
Ned and his comrades still lay on
the roof of the Veramendi house. The boy’s
heart beat fast but the scene was wild and thrilling
to the last degree. He felt a great surge of
pride that he should have a share in so great an event.
From the other side of the river came the rattle of
rifle fire, and he knew that it was the detachment
from Burleson attacking the Alamo. But presently
the sounds there died.
“They are drawing off,”
said Obed, “and it is right. It is their
duty to help us here, but I don’t see how they
can ever get into San Antonio. I wish the Mexicans
didn’t have those cannon which are so much heavier
than ours.”
The Texans had brought with them a
twelve pounder and a six pounder, but the twelve pounder
had already been dismounted by the overpowering Mexican
fire, and, without protection they were unable to use
the six pounder which they had drawn into the patio,
where it stood silent.
Ned from his corner could see the
mouths of the guns in the heavy Mexican battery at
the far end of the plaza, and he watched the flashes
of flame as they were fired one by one. In the
intervals he saw a lithe, strong figure appear on
the breastwork, and he was quite sure that it was
Urrea.
An hour of daylight passed. From
the house of De La Garcia the other division of Texans
began to fire, the sharp lashing of their rifles sounding
clearly amid the duller crash of musketry and cannon
from the Mexicans. The Texans in the lower part
of the Veramendi house were also at work with their
rifles. Every man was a sharpshooter, and, whenever
a Mexican came from behind a barricade, he was picked
off. But the Mexicans had also taken possession
of houses and they were firing with muskets from windows
and loopholes.
“We must shoot down the cannoneers,”
shouted the Ring Tailed Panther to “Deaf”
Smith.
Smith nodded. The men on the
roof were fifteen in number and now they devoted their
whole attention to the battery. Despite the drifting
smoke they hit gunner after gunner. The fever
in Ned’s blood grew. Everything was red
before him. His temples throbbed like fire.
The spirit of battle had taken full hold of him, and
he fired whenever he caught a glimpse of a Mexican.
“Deaf” Smith was on Ned’s
right, and he picked off a gunner. But to do
so he had lifted his head and shoulders above the coping.
A figure rose up behind the Mexican barricade and
fired in return. “Deaf” Smith uttered
a little cry, and clapped his hand to his shoulder.
“Never mind,” he said
in reply to anxious looks. “It’s in
the fleshy part only, and I’m not badly hurt.”
The bullet had gone nearly through
the shoulder and was just under the skin on the other
side. The Ring Tailed Panther cut it out with
his bowie knife and bound up the wound tightly with
strips from his hunting shirt. But Ned, although
it was only a fleeting glimpse, had recognized the
marksman. It was Urrea who had sent the bullet
through “Deaf” Smith’s shoulder.
He was proving himself a formidable foe.
But the men on the roof continued
their deadly sharpshooting, and now, the battery,
probably at Urrea’s suggestion, began to turn
its attention to them. Ned was seized suddenly
by Obed and pulled flat. There was a roaring
and hissing sound over his head as a twelve pound cannon
ball passed, and Ned said to Obed: “I thank
you.” The cannon shot was followed by a
storm of bullets and then by more cannon shots.
The Mexican guns were served well that day. The
coping was shot away and the Texans were in imminent
danger from the flying pieces. They were glad
when the last of it was gone.
But they did not yet dare to raise
themselves high enough for a shot. Balls, shell,
and bullets swept the roof without ceasing. Ned
lay on his side, almost flat. He listened to
the ugly hissing and screaming over his head until
it became unbearable. He turned over on his other
side and looked at Smith, their leader. Smith
was pale and weak from his wound, but he smiled wanly.
“You don’t speak, but
your face asks your question, Ned,” he said.
“I hate to say it, but we can’t hold this
roof. I never knew the Mexicans to shoot so well
before, and their numbers and cannon give them a great
advantage. Below, lads, as soon as you can!”
They crept down the stairway, and
found that the house itself was suffering from the
Mexican cannon. Holes had been smashed in the
walls, but here the Texans were always replying with
their rifles. They also heard the steady fire
in the house of De La Garcia and they knew that their
comrades were standing fast. Ned, exhausted by
the great tension, sat down on a willow sofa.
His hands were trembling and his face was wet with
perspiration. The Ring Tailed Panther sat down
beside him.
“Good plan to rest a little,
Ned,” he said. “We’ve come right
into a hornets’ nest an’ the hornets are
stingin’ us hard. Listen to that, will
you!”
A cannon ball smashed through the
wall, passed through the room in which they were sitting,
and dropped spent in another room beyond. Obed
joined them on the sofa.
“A cannon ball never strikes
in the same place twice,” misquoted Obed.
“So it’s safer here than it is anywhere
else in this Veramendi house. I’d help
with the rifles but there’s no room for me at
the windows and loopholes just now.”
“Our men are giving it back
to them,” said Ned. “Listen how the
rifles crackle!”
The battle was increasing in heat.
The Mexicans, despite their artillery, and their heavy
barricades, were losing heavily at the hands of the
sharpshooters. The Texans, sheltered in the buildings,
were suffering little, but their position was growing
more dangerous every minute. They were inside
the town, but the force of Burleson outside was unable
to come to their aid. Meanwhile, they must fight
five to one, but they addressed themselves with unflinching
hearts to the task. Even in the moment of imminent
peril they did not think of retreat, but clung to
their original purpose of taking San Antonio.
Ned, tense and restless, was unable
to remain more than a few minutes on the sofa.
He wandered into another room and saw a large table
spread with food. Bread and meat were in the
dishes, and there were pots of coffee. All was
now cold. Evidently they had been making ready
for early breakfast in the Veramendi house when the
Texans came. Ned called to his friends.
“Why shouldn’t we use it!” he said,
“even if it is cold?”
“Why shouldn’t we?” said Obed.
“Even though we fight we must live.”
They took the food and coffee, cold
as it was, to the men, and they ate and drank eagerly.
Then they searched everywhere and found large supplies
of provisions in the house, so much, in fact, that
the Ring Tailed Panther growled very pleasantly between
his teeth.
“There’s enough here,”
he said, “to last two or three days, an’
it’s well when you’re in a fort, ready
to stand a siege, to have something to eat.”
Some of the men now left the windows
and loopholes to get a rest and Ned found a place
at one of them. Peeping out he saw the bare street,
torn by shot and shell. He saw the flash of the
Texan rifles from the De La Garcia house and he saw
the blaze of the Mexican cannon in the plaza.
Mexican men, women and children on the flat roofs,
out of range, were eagerly watching the battle.
Clouds of smoke drifted over the city.
While Ned was at the window, a second
cannon ball smashed through the wall of the Veramendi
house, and caused the débris to fall in masses.
The Colonel grew uneasy. The cannon gave the Mexicans
an immense advantage, and they were now using it to
the utmost. The house would be battered down
over the heads of the Texans, and they could not live
in the streets, which the Mexicans, from their dominating
position, could sweep with cannon and a thousand rifles
and muskets. A third ball crashed through the
wall and demolished the willow sofa on which the three
had been sitting. Plaster rained down upon the
Texans. They looked at one another. They
could not stay in the house nor could they go out.
A boy suddenly solved the difficulty.
“Let’s dig a trench across
the street to the De La Garcia house!” cried
Ned, “and join our comrades there!”
“That’s the thing!”
they shouted. They had not neglected to bring
intrenching tools with them, and they found spades
and shovels about the house. But in order to
secure the greatest protection for their work they
decided to wait until night, confident that they could
hold their present position throughout the day.
It was many hours until the darkness,
and the fire rose and fell at intervals. More
shattered plaster fell upon them, but they were still
holding the wreck of a house, when the welcome twilight
deepened and darkened into the night. Then they
began work just inside the doorway, cutting fast through
plaster and adobe, and soon reaching the street.
They made the trench fairly wide, intending to get
their six pounder across also. Just behind those
who worked with spade and shovel came the riflemen.
A third of the way across, and the
Mexicans discovered what was going on. Once more
a storm of cannon, rifle and musket balls swept the
street, but the Texans, bent down in their trench,
toiled on, throwing the dirt above their heads and
out on either side. The riflemen behind them,
sheltered by the earth, replied to the Mexican fire,
and, despite the darkness, picked off many men.
Ned was just behind Obed, and the
Ring Tailed Panther was following him. All three
were acting as riflemen. Obed was seeking a glimpse
of Urrea, but he did not get it. Ned was watching
for a shot at the gunners.
Once the Mexicans under the cover
of their artillery undertook to charge down the street,
but the sharpshooters in the trench quickly drove them
back.
Thus they burrowed like a great mole
all the way across Soledad Street, and joined their
comrades in the strong house of De La Garcia.
They also succeeded in getting both of their cannon
into the house, and, now united, the Texans were encouraged
greatly. Ned found all the rooms filled with
men. A party broke through the joint wall and
entered the next house, thus taking them nearer to
the plaza and the Mexican fortifications.
All through the night intermittent
firing went on. The Mexicans increased their
fortifications, preparing for a desperate combat on
the morrow. They threw up new earthworks, and
they loopholed many of the houses that they held.
Cos, his dark face darker with rage and fury, went
among them, urging them to renewed efforts, telling
them that they were bound to take prisoners all the
Texans whom they did not slay in battle, and that
they should hang every prisoner. Great numbers
of the women and children had hidden in the Alamo
on the other side of the river. San Antonio itself
was stripped for battle, and the hatred between Texan
and Mexican, so unlike in temperament, flamed into
new heat.
Ned was worn to the bone. His
lips were burnt with his feverish breath. The
smoke stung his eyes and nostrils, and his limbs ached.
He felt that he must rest or die, and, seeing two
men sound asleep on the floor of one of the rooms,
he flung himself down beside them. He slept in
a few minutes and Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther
seeing him there did not disturb him.
“If any boy has been through
more than he has,” said Obed, “I haven’t
heard of him.”
“An’ I guess that he an’
all of us have got a lot more comin’,”
said the Ring Tailed Panther grimly. “Cos
ain’t goin’ to give up here without the
terriblest struggle of his life. He can’t
afford to do it.”
“Reckon you’re right,” said Obed.
Ned awoke the next morning with the
taste of gunpowder in his mouth, but the Texans, besides
finding food in the houses, had brought some with
them, and he ate an ample breakfast. Then ensued
a day that he found long and monotonous. Neither
side made any decided movement. There was occasional
firing, but they rested chiefly on their arms.
In the course of the second night the Mexicans opened
another trench, from which they began to fire at dawn,
but the Texan rifles quickly put them to flight.
The Texans now began to grow restless.
Cooped up in two houses they were in the way of one
another and they demanded freedom and action.
Henry Karnes suggested that they break into another
house closer to the plaza. Milam consented and
Karnes, followed closely by Ned, Obed, the Ring Tailed
Panther and thirty others, dashed out, smashed in the
door of the house, and were inside before the astonished
Mexicans could open an accurate fire upon them.
Here they at once secured themselves and their bullets
began to rake the plaza. The Mexicans were forced
to throw up more and higher intrenchments.
Again the combat became intermittent.
There were bursts of rifle fire, and occasional shots
from the cannon, and, now and then, short periods
of almost complete silence. Night came on and
Ned, watching from the window, saw Colonel Milam,
their leader, pass down the trench and enter the courtyard
of the Veramendi house. He stood there a moment,
looking at the Mexican position. A musket cracked
and the Texan, throwing up his arms, fell. He
was dead by the time he touched the ground. The
ball had struck him in the center of the forehead.
Ned uttered a cry of grief, and it
was taken up by all the Texans who had seen their
leader fall. A half dozen men rushed forward and
dragged away his body, but that night they buried
it in the patio. His death only incited them
to new efforts. As soon as his burial was finished
they rushed another house in their slow advance, one
belonging to Antonio Navarro, a solid structure only
one block from the great plaza. They also stormed
and carried a redoubt which the Mexicans had erected
in the street beside the house. It now being midnight
they concluded to rest until the morrow. Meanwhile,
they had elected Johnson their leader.
Ned was in the new attack and with
Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther he was in the Navarro
house. It was the fourth that he had occupied
since the attack on San Antonio. He felt less
excitement than on the night before. It seemed
to him that he was becoming hardened to everything.
He looked at his comrades and laughed. They were
no longer in the semblance of white men. Their
faces were so blackened with smoke, dirt and burned
gunpowder that they might have passed for negroes.
“You needn’t laugh, Ned,”
said Obed. “You’re just as black as
we are. This thing of changing your boarding
house every night by violence and the use of firearms
doesn’t lead to neatness. If fine feathers
make fine birds then we three are about the poorest
flock that ever flew.”
“But when we go for a house
we always get it,” said the Ring Tailed Panther.
“You notice that. This place belongs to
Antonio Navarro. I’ve met him in San Antonio,
an’ I don’t like him, but I’m willin’
to take his roof an’ bed.”
Ned took the roof but not the bed.
He could not sleep that night, and it was found a
little later that none would have a chance to sleep.
The Mexicans, advancing over the other houses, the
walls of all of which joined, cut loopholes in the
roof of the Navarro house and opened fire upon the
Texans below. The Texans, with surer aim, cleared
the Mexicans away from the loopholes, then climbed
to the roof and drove them off entirely.
But no one dared to sleep after this
attack, and Ned watched all through the dark hours.
Certainly they were having action enough now, and he
was wondering what the fourth day would bring forth.
From an upper window he watched the chilly sun creep
over the horizon once more, and the dawn brought with
it the usual stray rifle and musket shots. Both
Texan and Mexican sharpshooters were watching at every
loophole, and whenever they saw a head they fired
at it. But this was only the beginning, the crackling
prelude to the event that was to come.
“Come down, Ned,” said
Obed, “and get your breakfast. We’ve
got coffee and warm corn cakes and we’ll need
’em, as we’re already tired of this boarding
house and we intend to find another.”
“Can’t stay more than
one night in a place while we’re in San Antonio,”
said the Ring Tailed Panther, growling pleasantly.
“A restless lot we are an’ it’s
time to move on again.”
Ned ate and drank in silence.
His nerves were quite steady, and he had become so
used to battle that he awaited whatever they were going
to attempt, almost without curiosity.
“Ain’t you wantin’
to know what we’re goin’ to do, Ned?”
asked the Ring Tailed Panther.
“I’m thinking that I’ll
find out pretty quick,” replied Ned.
“Now this boy is shorely makin’
a fine soldier,” said the Panther to Obed.
“He don’t ask nothin’ about what
he’s goin’ to do, but just eats an’
waits orders.”
Ned smiled and ate another corn cake.
“Maybe,” said Obed, “we’ll
meet our friend Urrea in the attack we’re going
to make. If so, I’ll take a shot at him,
and I won’t have any remorse about it, either,
if I hit him.”
They did not wait long. A strong
body of the Texans gathered on the lower floor, many
carrying, in addition to their weapons, heavy iron
crowbars. The doors were suddenly thrown open
and they rushed out into the cool morning air, making
for a series of stone houses called the Zambrano Row,
the farthest of which opened upon the main plaza, where
the Mexicans were fortified so strongly. Scattering
shots from muskets and rifles greeted them, but as
usual, when any sudden movement occurred, the Mexicans
fired wildly, and the Texans broke into the first
of the houses, before they could take good aim.
Ned was one of the last inside.
He had lingered with the others to repel any rush
that the Mexicans might make. He was watching
the Mexican barricade, and he saw heads rise above
it. One rose higher than the rest and he recognized
Urrea. The Mexican saw Ned also, and the eyes
of the two met. Urrea’s were full of anger
and malice, and raising his rifle he fired straight
at the boy. Ned felt the bullet graze his cheek,
and instantly he fired in reply. But Urrea had
quickly dropped down behind the barricade and the
bullet missed. Then Ned rushed into the house.
The boy was blazing with indignation.
He had spared Urrea’s life, and yet the Mexican
had sought at the first opportunity to kill him.
He could not understand a soul of such caliber.
But the incident passed from his mind, for the time
being, in the strenuous work that they began now to
do.
They broke through partition wall
after wall with their powerful picks and crowbars.
Stones fell about them. Plaster and dust rained
down, but the men relieving one another, the work
with the heavy tools was never stopped until they
penetrated the interior of the last house in the row.
Then the Texans uttered a grim cry of exultation.
They looked from the narrow windows directly over
the main plaza and their rifles covered the Mexican
barricades. The Mexicans tried to drive them out
of the houses with the guns, but the solid stone walls
resisted balls and shells, and the Texan rifles shot
down the gunners.
Then ensued another silence, broken
by distant firing, caused by another attack upon the
Texan camp outside the town. It was driven off
quickly and the Texans in the houses lay quiet until
evening. Then they heard a great shouting, the
occasion of which they did not know until later.
Ugartchea with six hundred men had arrived from the
Rio Grande to help Cos. But it would not have
made any difference with the Texans had they known.
They were determined to take San Antonio, and all the
time they were pressing harder on Cos.
That night, the Texans, Ned with them,
seized another large building called the Priests’
House, which looked directly over the plaza, and now
their command of the Mexican situation was complete.
Nothing could live in the square under their fire,
and in the night Ned saw the Mexicans withdrawing,
leaving their cannon behind.
Exhaustion compelled the boy to sleep
from midnight until day, when he was roused by Obed.
“The Mexicans have all gone
across the river to the Alamo,” said the Maine
man. “San Antonio is ours.”
Ned went forth with his comrades.
Obed had told the truth. The great seat of the
Mexican power in the north was theirs. Three hundred
daring men, not strongly supported by those whom they
had left behind, had penetrated to the very heart
of the city through house after house, and had driven
out the defenders who were five to their one.
The plaza and Soledad Street presented
a somber aspect. The Mexican dead, abandoned
by their comrades, lay everywhere. The Texan rifles
had done deadly work. The city itself was silent
and deserted.
“Most of the population has
gone with the Mexican army to the Alamo,” said
Obed. “I suppose we’ll have to attack
that, too.”
But Cos, the haughty and vindictive
general, did not have the heart for a new battle with
the Texans. He sent a white flag to Burleson and
surrendered. Ned was present when the flag came,
and the leader of the little party that brought it
was Urrea. The young Mexican had lost none of
his assurance.
“You have won now,” he
said to Ned, “but bear in mind that we will come
again. You have yet to hear from Mexico and Santa
Anna.”
“When Santa Anna comes he will
find us here ready to meet him,” replied Ned.
The Texans in the hour of their great
and marvelous victory behaved with humanity and moderation.
Cos and his army, which still doubled in numbers both
the Texans who had been inside and outside San Antonio,
were permitted to retire on parole beyond the Rio Grande.
They left in the hands of the Texans twenty-one cannon
and great quantities of ammunition. Rarely has
such a victory been won by so small a force and in
reality with the rifle alone. All the Texans felt
that it was a splendid culmination to a perilous campaign.
Ned, Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther,
seated on their horses, watched the captured army
of Cos march away.
“Well, Texas is free,” said the Ring Tailed
Panther.
“And San Antonio is ours,” said Obed.
“But Santa Anna will come,” said Ned,
remembering the words of Urrea.