Ole Devil at San Jacinto (Old Devil Hardin Western Book 4) (27 page)

‘
I’d be proud to have you, sir,’ Ole
Devil answered. ‘And anybody else who has the true interests of
Texas at heart.’

Even as he was speaking, the Texian wondered
where he had seen the other man before. There was something vaguely
familiar about the grimy and unshaven face. He also wished that his
supporter had selected the words of the speech with greater care.
The latter part of them had constituted a direct challenge to the
agitator. Fortunately, that worthy did not offer to put in an
appearance.

‘
That’s me, for one,’ the smaller
figure declared, following the other man across the line. ‘Who’ll
else’s with us?’

‘
Take the Company back to
our lines, Mr
. Blaze!’ Ole Devil ordered, without waiting to see what
the response would be. ‘They’ve plenty to do before General Houston
marches us out.’

Given that much of a lead from
two of their number and a gesture of peace by the young captain,
particularly as the agitator in their midst had not advanced to
refute the references to his desire for anonymity, the rest of the
gathering began to reconsider the justice of its purpose. All had
heard of how large a force Santa Ann
a had at his disposal and realized that,
new caplocks or not, they would be greatly outnumbered. Nor could
any of them, even his antagonists, truthfully argue against the
remark regarding General Houston’s courage and sagacity. Wise in
the ways of waging war, he could be counted on to know how best to
cope with an enemy of such overwhelming strength.

‘
Hey!’ called one of the
crowd. ‘The
Yellow Stone’s
coming back.’

‘
Come
on, Billy,’ another said to his neighbor. ‘Our outfit’s due to go
aboard her. Let’s get back so’s we’ll be ready to go.’

Once somebody had made the first move to
depart, the crowd dissolved like grains of sand scattered by the
wind. Seeing that they had failed to make their point, the
anti-Houston faction did not attempt to stop the rest. Soon, only
Ole Devil and his two supporters remained.

‘
Egad, my Mephistophelian young
friend,’ said the man in buckskins, employing vastly different
tones. ‘Once again, you have fully justified my confidence in your
ability to cope in the best possible way with a situation of some
delicacy and danger.’

‘
I’m not sorry it’s over,’ the smaller
figure went on, also changing ‘his’ manner of speaking. ‘This beard
you gave me itches, Manny.’

‘
And doesn’t do a thing to improve
your beauty, light of my love,’ the first supporter
declared.

Even at such close quarters, so
effective had been the changes they had wrought to their
appearances, it was not until they reverted to their
nor
mal voices
that Ole Devil realized he was speaking to Corrinne and Mangrove
Hallistead.

Amused by the expression of
amazement on the young Texian’s normally emotionless face, the
entertainer made an explanation. He had assumed the disguise, as an
aid to tracking down a spy in Santa Anna’s pay, on the day that Ole
Devil had left San Felipe. Having achieved his purpose early that
afternoon, he had been about to bathe, shave and
put on his usual
clothes when he had heard that the withdrawal was to be resumed.
Guessing that there would be protests against the decision, he had
suggested that his wife donned suitable attire so they could mingle
with the enlisted men unnoticed and, if necessary, warn General
Houston of what was happening.

Having joined the
protest meeting and
seen Mannen Blaze hurrying away, the Hallisteads had deduced his
purpose. They had also guessed that Ole Devil would take some form
of action to disperse it. As Houston had crossed the river to
examine the situation, they had waited to find out how the young
captain would set about the task and were ready to support
him.

Being just as knowledgeable as Ole Devil
about mob psychology, Hallistead had known how he could best render
aid. It was unlikely that any member of the crowd would want to
take the lead if it appeared some other person was willing to
assume the responsibility. So he had become the ‘agitator’, then
moved to another position to act as the ‘supporter’. His comments
on emerging had turned the gathering’s feelings against the
‘agitator’, who they assumed had lacked the courage of his
convictions when challenged. Fortunately, possibly because of the
tension his actions had evoked, nobody who had stood near
Hallistead when he was playing the ‘agitator’ was perceptive enough
to have noticed the change in his behavior when he had turned to
being the ‘supporter’.

‘
I thought they’d be
willing to change their minds about marching south when they saw
there was more than just Manny against it,’
Corrinne continued,
her feminine tones at odds with her masculine appearance. ‘And they
did.’

‘
You timed your entrance to
perfection, as always, light of my life,’ the entertainer agreed.
‘But General Houston will have to engage the enemy eftsoons, or the
advantage we have gained for him will be dissipated.’

‘
He’ll be doing it before long,’ Ole
Devil guessed. ‘And when he does, we’ll settle who’s going to
control Texas once and for all.’

The young Texian’s words were prophetic!

Major General Samuel Houston’s
insistence upon waiting until the time and the place were right
before allowing the confrontation with
Presidente
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna’s column
was fully justified by the events of Thursday, April 21,
1836.

Bringing about such a desirable
state of affairs had not been easy. In spite of the way in which
the protest meeting at Groce’s Place had been dispersed by Ole
Devil Hardin and the Hallisteads, there had been considerable
discontentment among the enlisted men as the march continued with
no suggestion of what its ultimate purpose might be. Wanting to
avoid disappointment and a complete breakdown of morale if his
judgment of the situation should prove at fault, the general did
not offer to enlighten them. As he was to say in later years, ‘I
consulted none, nor held no councils of war. If I was to err, the
blame would be mine alone.
’

Notwithstanding Houston’s
reticence, some of the more astute men under his command began to
reali
ze that
something was developing. While their dependants were continuing to
move eastwards under a small escort, the route being taken by the
rest of the Army was to the southeast.

Then, on April
18—when spirits were
approaching their lowest ebb and badly needed a boost—came
astounding news which supplied it. No longer was the Republic of
Texas’s Army withdrawing ahead of their pursuers. Now the position
was reversed and it was the Mexicans who were in front.

For the first time, Houston made
a pronouncement to his men. Telling them something of the geography
in that part of Texas, he had stated that Santa Anna was close to
San Jacinto Bay. The only way
el Presidente
could rejoin the main body of his army was by
crossing at Lynch’s Ferry, or by the bridge which spanned Vince’s
Bayou. By increasing their pace, the Texians could reach whichever
point was selected ahead of their enemies.

‘
Victory is certain!’ the general
cried. ‘Trust in God and fear not! And remember the Alamo! Above
all, remember the Alamo!’

‘
Remember the Alamo!’ came the
answering reply, as if in one voice and with a vehemence that boded
little good for those who had been responsible for its
fall.

El Presidente’s
fury-inspired
headlong dash for Harrisburg had proved a waste of time. On his
arrival, he found that the town was practically deserted.
Forewarned of his coming, President Burnet, the Government, their
escort of New Orleans’ Wildcats and almost all of the population
had taken a hurried departure. From three captives, he had learned
that the objects of his hatred were fleeing to Galveston with the
intention of leaving the country by boat.

Dispatching Colonel Juan Almonte
with a force of cavalry to check on Lynch’s Ferry and New
Washington, both at the mouth of the San Jacinto River, Santa Anna
had allowed the rest of his exhausted force some badly needed rest.
Then, according to a report he received, there was a chance to end
the rebellion with a single stroke. Apparently making for safety
east of the Trinity River, Houston and his men were going towards
Lynch’s Ferry. Thwarted of his vengeance in one direction,
el Presidente
swore to take it in
another.

Starting the march once more, Santa Anna
drove his men even harder. In his excitement and eagerness, he
completely overlooked that the terrain he was entering offered only
a limited opportunity for maneuvering so large a force. To the left
was Buffalo Bayou, ahead the estuary of the San Jacinto River, at
the right the inlets and swamps of Galveston Bay and, after the
crossing of the bridge over Vince’s Bayou, they had water to the
rear as well.

On the face of it,
el Presidente
had nothing to fear.
Not only was General Ramirez Sesma at Thompson’s Ferry with a
thousand men and General Vincente Filisola close by at the head of
another eighteen hundred, but his own force was more than double
that led by Houston. So it mattered not that General Antonio Gaona
was lost somewhere with two battalions, or that General José Urrea
had sent word that he was returning with his Brigade to put down an
Indian uprising in the State of Tamaulipa.
^lvi
He had no need of any of them, nor
any desire to allow them a share in the glory of driving the
‘foreign land thieves’ from his domain.

So things stood when, on
April 20, the two
forces came face to face close to the confluence of Buffalo Bayou
and the San Jacinto River. There was some sporadic and indecisive
fighting during the day, with Houston wisely restraining his men’s
eagerness to get to close quarters. Not only had the size of his
command been decreased by the escort for their dependants, there
was a larger loss. Apart from Company ‘C’, whose commanding officer
he regarded as a good luck talisman, he had sent the Texas Light
Cavalry to make a feint in the direction of Thompson’s
Ferry.

Annoyed by the refusal of the
enemy to play into his hands, Santa Anna had pulled back to make
camp for the night. He was most satisfied by the site he selected.
It was on a hill, well protected against flanking attacks by having
water at the rear, thick woodland at the right as far as the banks
of the San Jacinto River and open terrain to the left, with a clear
front between it and the Texians. Furthermore, late in the
afternoon, General Martin Perfecto de
Cós had arrived with four hundred men and
one of
el
Presidente’s
baggage wagons carrying powder and shot to replace that
which had been expended, or ruined in the dash across
country.

Gathering his officers in the
evening, General Houston outlined his strategy.
‘Deaf
’ Smith
and his scouts were to go and destroy Vince’s bridge, cutting off
the enemies’ retreat and preventing, or at least delaying, the
arrival of further reinforcements. Everybody else was to make
preparations for an all out assault upon
el Presidente’s
camp the following morning. In
conjunction with the latter, there had been something which
demanded attention. Sent by Colonel Edward Fog to keep an eye on
Cós’s party, a patrol from the Texas Light Cavalry had captured a
Mexican deserter who informed them of what the baggage wagon was
transporting. On hearing about it, Houston had seen how he might be
able to turn it to his ends.

Space does not permit a detailed
account of how Ole Devil and Tommy Okasi, who became an ‘Indian’
again for the mission, infiltrated Santa Anna’s encampment in
the
night
with the intention of destroying the newly arrived supply of
ammunition. Suffice to say that they succeeded in concealing among
the cargo an explosive device, equipped with a simple
delayed-action detonator produced by a gunsmith in Houston’s force.
It was set to go off approximately when it would be needed the next
day, complete accuracy being unattainable.

As if in repayment for his
unflinching adherence to the correct policy over the past weeks and
as a recompense for the misfortunes which had recently befallen the
Texians’ cause, the weather on
April 21 was ideally suited for Houston’s purpose.
Not only had the night and dawn been wet and damp, there was a
heavy fog which made it possible for he and his seven hundred and
eighty-three men to approach their enemy over open ground without
being seen from a distance.

Carrying out the prediction made by Mangrove
Hallistead at Groce’s Place, Houston was in the lead. Sword in
hand, as the fog began to lift, he waited for the most effective
moment. Spread out in a thin, long line, his men were grasping
their weapons eagerly. In addition to those equipped from the
consignment, so many of the remainder had already owned caplocks
that there were few weapons fired by flint and priming powder.

All was set for the attack!