Chapter VI

HOUSTON.
(1836-1842.)

1. ON BUFFALO BAYOU.

The treaty between Santa Anna and the Texan Congress was concluded at Velasco (May 14), and to the written paper was affixed the seal of the Republic.

The choice of this seal was the result of an accident. When the declaration of independence was adopted at San Felipe, Governor Smith, having no other seal, used one of the brass buttons from his coat. Its device chanced to be a five-pointed star encircled by a wreath of oak leaves. The Lone Star with its wreath thus became the official signet of the Texas Republic.

Santa Anna was conducted on board the war-schooner _Invincible_, which had orders to convey him and his staff to Vera Cruz on the coast of Mexico. But public feeling was so strong against setting free the arch enemy of Texas that President Burnet was obliged to have him brought on shore again. He was sent from Velasco to Columbia, and thence to Orizaba, the country place of Dr. Orlando Phelps, on the Brazos River. A plot for his release was soon afterward discovered. This caused him to be put in irons, and to receive a small taste of the ill-treatment he had so often accorded to others. It was not until after the return of Houston from New Orleans in the fall that the captive general was finally released.

Meantime there was great dissatisfaction in the army. The soldiers, having no fighting to do, began to remember that they were hungry and in rags. They clamored for money which the poverty-stricken government could not give them; and they still demanded loudly the death of Santa Anna.

In June Major Isaac Burton, with a company of mounted rangers on the lookout for Mexican vessels at Copano, succeeded in decoying into port and capturing three supply ships which belonged to the enemy. These were the _Watchman_, the _Comanche_, and the _Fanny Butler_. The supplies, valued at twenty-five thousand dollars, were sent at once to the army. This timely relief and the re-imprisonment of Santa Anna restored the soldiers to good humor.

In September a general election was held. General Houston was made President, and Mirabeau B. Lamar Vice-President. The new term was to begin in December; but President Burnet, glad to lay down the burden which he had borne wisely and virtuously, resigned his office, and on the 22d of October Houston was inaugurated.

The ceremony took place at Columbia. Among those present were many who had been prominent in the revolution: Stephen F. Austin, ex-Governor Smith, Branch T. Archer, the Whartons, Mosely Baker, Sidney Sherman, John T. Austin, William Austin, and many others.

Santa Anna, in his guarded apartment not far away, might almost have heard the echoes of his old enemy’s voice when, at the conclusion of his address, Houston unbuckled his sword and handed it to the Speaker of the House, with the assurance that if his country should ever call for his services again he would resume his sword and respond to that call with his blood or his life.

Stephen F. Austin was made Secretary of State in Houston’s cabinet. He had but lately returned from the United States, where he had rendered important service to Texas during her struggle for independence. He now saw his highest hopes realized. His beloved colonists had become a free people. His chosen land would now blossom like a rose in the fair sunshine of peace.

He began his new duties with ardor. But constant anxiety and the hardships of prison life had left him weak and delicate. The unfinished room where he worked was without fire; he was seized suddenly with pneumonia, and after a short illness he died (December 27, 1836).

The Father of Texas was but forty-three years old. His life had been noble, useful, and unselfish, and his death was a public loss. His body was conveyed in the steamer _Yellowstone_ to Peach Point on the Brazos, near Columbia. There, in the presence of the President and his cabinet, the officers of the army and navy, and a large concourse of citizens, he was buried with military honors.

The first regular Congress had a hard task before it. The people of Texas were in favor of annexation to the United States. But a strong faction in that nation, though willing to acknowledge Texas as an independent country, was strongly opposed to receiving another slave state. The young Republic was therefore obliged to stand alone.

There was a large public debt, but no money in the treasury. Mexico still laid claim to her rebellious province, and it was necessary to maintain an army to repel invasion, and a navy to defend the coast. The Indians were troublesome. The civil law, in the confusion and disorder of the war, had become almost a dead letter.

This was a tangled skein, but Congress set to work with hearty good will to unravel the threads. The legislature provided for the public debt and other state expenses by issuing land scrip (government paper entitling the holder to so many leagues of land).

County and magistrate courts were organized; a Supreme Court was formed, and the Spanish code of laws was displaced by the code used by the United States. The soldiers instead of their pay received permission to go home on long visits to their families. Some vessels were bought for the navy, and commissioners were sent to the different Indian tribes to make treaties of friendship.

Congress adjourned in December. The following May it met in the new town on Buffalo Bayou named in honor of the President.

Monsieur Le Clère (Le Clare), a Frenchman who visited Texas about this time, writes thus of Houston: “I cannot say that Houston is a great city, although it is a capital. The principal street, Main Street, which is laid out in a straight line, and handsome enough for the country, runs down to the river. The footwalks are barely marked out. We found the landing still blocked by enormous trunks of trees. Great southern pines are left standing in the street. The ascent which leads from the bayou to the city is very rough, and one stumbles over the logs that encumber it. By the side of houses of tolerably fine appearance (though built entirely of wood), one meets here and there with those poor houses called log cabins. Finally, as a last touch to this picture, there stand in Main Street and near the capitol two great tents which would do honor to a chief of the Tartars or Bedouins.

“The environs of Houston are not inhabited. A great number of the people I saw in the city were going further west, but their passage gave it a very lively appearance. They were on horseback, and almost all armed with the terrible weapon called the bowie knife. Most of them carried before them on the saddle that rifle, excessively long, which they handle with a wonderful skill, and which Jackson’s men used so well at the battle of New Orleans.”

The capitol building was unfinished, and Congress was obliged to shorten its sittings when it rained or a “norther” blew fiercely through the shutterless windows. The President’s house was a double log cabin with a puncheon floor. But the naturalist Audubon describes President Houston (May, 1837) as receiving his guests in this rude cabin, “dressed in a fancy velvet coat and trousers trimmed with gold lace; and around his neck was tied a cravat somewhat in the style of 1776.”

The same writer speaks of the members of the cabinet as men bearing the stamp of “intellectual ability, simple, though bold in their general appearance.”

All sorts of people from at home and abroad thronged the little capital. Curious travelers like Audubon and Le Clère, the Frenchman, brushed against hunters clad in buck-skin, traders with pack-mules, and eager-eyed young adventurers from “the States.”

A great many Indians came into the town to see their Great Father, Houston. One such deputation was from the hunting-grounds of the Comanches. They came to make their treaty of peace in person. They rode mustang ponies, and brought their squaws and papooses with them. After setting up their buffalo-hide lodges on the prairie near the town, the warriors marched in single file to President Houston’s own residence. They were all tall and finely formed, with very red skin, and jet-black hair which they wore hanging in long locks down their backs. These locks were ornamented with bands of silver. Many of the warriors wore, just below the elbow, clumsy rings of copper or gold, from which dangled the scalp-locks of their dead enemies. Monsieur Le Clère, who saw this procession, says that one young Indian had two of these rings hung with ten or fifteen heads of hair of different colors. The women wore tight leggings of tanned buck-skin, with tunics of wolf or jaguar skins, trimmed with beads and quills. Many strands of colored beads were strung around their necks, and their hands were loaded with gold and silver rings. Some of their costumes were graceful and pretty. The wearers were nearly all old and ugly; but one young girl, the daughter of the chief, is described as very beautiful, with liquid black eyes, softly rounded cheeks, and red laughing lips. She wore on her head a crown made of eagle feathers, and her girdle was a band of heavy silver discs.

The President welcomed his red brothers gravely and kindly. The calumet, or pipe of peace, was smoked and the treaty was made. The Indians received presents of beads, blankets, and red cloth. The old chief when he rode away carried the Texas flag tied to a stalk of sugar cane. “Me big chief! Houston big chief!” he cried, striking his breast with his hand.

2. THE INVINCIBLE.

The provisional government of 1835 provided for a navy to serve the new Republic of Texas. It was not a very formidable navy. It consisted at first of two vessels—the schooners the _Invincible_ and the _Liberty_. Afterward were added the _Independence_, which became the flag-ship of Commodore Hawkins, commandant of the fleet, the _Brutus_, and several small sloops, including the _Champion_ and the _Julius Cæsar_.

These ships cruised about the Gulf of Mexico, watching the coast and doing what they could with their small guns to annoy the Mexican war-vessels. Early in April, 1836, the _Invincible_, commanded by Captain Jerry Brown, met the Mexican brig, the _Montezuma_, near Tampico and fired upon her. A spirited engagement followed which lasted several hours, and in which the _Montezuma_ was badly disabled. She drew off, and in attempting to enter the harbor ran aground.

The _Invincible_ sailed away unhurt, and the next day met and captured the American brig, the _Pocket_, which was on her way to a Mexican port with a cargo of supplies for Santa Anna’s army. Captain Brown brought the _Pocket_ into Galveston, whence the supplies were forwarded to the army.

The _Invincible_, lying at that time in the bay, received from Captain Calder the first news of the victory at San Jacinto, and Captain Brown at once “turned loose Old Tom” to express his own joy therefor.

The _Yellowstone_ came down from the Texan camp and landed the Mexican prisoners on the island; she then proceeded to Velasco, having on board the President and his cabinet officers, and General Santa Anna and his staff.

The _Invincible_ was ordered to follow, and after signing the treaty, Santa Anna was conducted on board, and Captain Brown received orders to sail to Vera Cruz with the defeated general. The Texan commissioners empowered to treat with the Mexican government were also on board. As already related, Santa Anna was taken ashore again and placed in prison. The _Invincible_ with the _Brutus_ was soon afterward sent to New York for repairs. The _Liberty_ conveyed General Houston to New Orleans, and was there sold to pay her war-expenses.

The new Congress was without means to meet the cost of repairing and refitting the _Invincible_ and her sister ship. They were on the point of being sold when Henry Swartwout, the collector of the port of New York, with great generosity provided the money from his private purse. They were completely equipped and sent to sea the same year.

In 1837 the entire fleet set out for a cruise in the Gulf of Mexico. The _Champion_ and the _Julius Cæsar_ were taken by the enemy on the 12th of April. Both carried valuable cargoes, and their loss was a keen blow to the young government.

On the 17th of April the _Independence_ encountered near Velasco two Mexican brigs of war,—the _Libertador_, armed with sixteen 18-pound guns and manned with one hundred and forty men, and the _Vincedor_, with six 12-pounders and one hundred men. The _Independence_ had but thirty-one men. The action, in which the Texans behaved with great gallantry, was a short and severe one. It ended in the capture of the _Independence_. The crew were sent as prisoners to Matamoras.

A little later the _Invincible_ and the _Brutus_ captured the Mexican schooners, the _Obispo_ and the _Telegraph_. Both boats were sent in as prizes.

In August the _Brutus_ and the _Invincible_ reached Galveston with another prize. The _Brutus_ with the prize entered the harbor safely, but the _Invincible_ did not succeed in passing the bar. She was attacked the next morning (26th) by two Mexican ships. The _Brutus_ started out to assist her, but ran aground and lay helpless on the sand. The _Invincible_ held her own against the enemy all day; at nightfall she struck on the breakers. Her crew were saved, but the gallant old ship went to pieces.

The next year (1838) a new navy was voted by Congress. Several vessels were bought, but there was now no duty for them to perform. They were placed in the service of Yucatan, which was in revolt against Mexico. Some years later, when Texas was annexed to the United States, they passed into the navy of that country.

The _Brutus_, the last ship of the old Texan navy, was lost in a storm at Galveston Bay as late as 1867.

3. THE CAPITAL.

One of the laws of the constitution provided that no one should be allowed to hold the office of President for two successive terms. Houston’s term of office expired in 1838, and Mirabeau B. Lamar was elected President and David G. Burnet Vice-President.

The Secretary of War under Lamar was Albert Sidney Johnston. This brilliant young soldier came to Texas just after the battle of San Jacinto. He was a graduate of West Point, and had served in the Blackhawk war.

Johnston at once organized a force to act against the Indians. Lamar did not have Houston’s kindly feeling for the Red Men. He looked upon them as dangerous enemies, and he wished to rid the country of them entirely. The Indians, on their side, had been breaking the treaties made with Houston.

Mexico was too full of troubles at home to invade Texas again. But Mexican agents were sent among the Cherokees and Comanches to stir them up against the white settlers, and incite them to reclaim their lands. Many homes on the frontier were burned, and their peaceable inmates killed or taken prisoners. The Texas rangers, under General Rusk and Colonel Burleson, finally defeated and subdued the most troublesome of the warlike tribes, and the frontier became quiet once more.

But in 1840 trouble broke out again with the Comanches. Twelve chiefs of this tribe came to San Antonio to sign a new treaty. As usual, they were accompanied by their women and children. They had promised to bring with them thirteen white prisoners, but they appeared with but one, a little girl named Matilda Lockhart, who had been carried away in a raid on her father’s house two years before. The chiefs declared they had no more prisoners. But the child said there were others at the camp, who were to be brought in one by one for large ransom. A company of soldiers was ordered into the council-room, and the Indians were told that they were prisoners until the other white captives were given up. One of the chiefs immediately attempted to escape, stabbing the sentinel at the door. A furious combat followed, in which the twelve chiefs were all killed. In the plaza outside there was also a desperate fight. The Indian women took part in this, and three of them were killed. Captain Matthew Caldwell, who was unarmed, defended himself with stones until his assailant was killed. Judge Thompson, who had been playing with the Indian children, setting up pieces of money for them to shoot at, was slain by an arrow from one of their bows. Colonel Wells came riding into the plaza in the midst of the skirmish. A powerful Indian leaped on his horse behind him and tried to shake him off. Unable to do this he seized the bridle and tried to guide the horse out of the plaza. Colonel Wells’s arms were pinioned so that he could not draw his pistol, and it was only after careering thus several times around the plaza that the Indian was shot by a soldier and the Colonel released. The band was finally overpowered. Thirty-two warriors, three squaws, and two children were killed; the others were all made prisoners. This encounter is known as the “Council-house Fight.”

Congress held its meetings in Houston until 1839. But the site for a new capital had been chosen. It was on the banks of the Colorado River, on the then extreme frontier. Two or three pioneer cabins already stood there, and the little settlement bore the proud name of Waterloo. But bands of savage Indians still roamed the hills and prairies adjacent. It was necessary to place guards about the grounds to protect the masons and carpenters while they were at work on the capitol building. Among the buildings erected was a blockhouse, as a refuge for the women and children in case of an Indian raid. The new capital was named Austin, in grateful memory of the Father of Texas.

Congress met at Austin for the first time in October, 1839. Among the important acts of this session was the appropriation of fifty leagues of land for a state university, and three leagues to each county for schools.

This Congress also adopted a national flag, the same now used as the Texas state flag.

The first Lone Star flag was made at Harrisburg, and presented to a military company in 1835. The star was five-pointed, white, set on a ground of red. The flag raised by Fannin on the walls of Goliad when he heard of the declaration of independence was an azure star in a white field. Travis and his men, ignorant of the declaration, died fighting under the banner of the Republic of Mexico.[29]

England, France, Holland, and Belgium in turn recognized the independence of the Republic. Texas, in spite of many drawbacks, was growing in strength.

The last year of Lamar’s term of office, however, was clouded by an unfortunate affair known as the “Sante Fé Expedition.”

A scheme was set on foot for the occupation of New Mexico, whose people were said to be anxious to join the Texas Republic. Its real object was to divert into Texas the rich trade of Sante Fé with Old Mexico. An expedition was organized and started from Brushy Creek, near Austin, June, 1841. It was composed of about two hundred and seventy soldiers, together with a number of traders and adventurers. The soldiers were under the command of General Hugh McLeod.

Congress opposed this expedition, but President Lamar favored it, and sent with it three commissioners as agents of the government to treat with the people of New Mexico. General McLeod’s brass six-pound cannon was stamped with the name of the President, Mirabeau B. Lamar.

The journey was a long and painful one. The men suffered from thirst in crossing those barren western plains, where water is scarce. They had nothing to eat. “Every tortoise and snake, every living and creeping thing was seized upon and swallowed by the famishing men.”[30] They were without guides, and the Indians hung about their camps killing their pickets and stealing their horses.

When they reached New Mexico they were worn out and half starved. Instead of being welcomed as liberators they were looked upon as spies and enemies.

Under promise of good treatment they finally surrendered to the force sent against them. They were at once thrown into prison. Later they were sent, chained like criminals, to the city of Mexico. Several of them died on the march, unable to endure the brutality of their guards.

The survivors were held as prisoners in Mexican dungeons until the next year, when by the intervention of the American minister they were released and sent home.

4. THE WAR OF THE ARCHIVES.

Houston was elected President of the Republic for the second time in September, 1841. Edward Burleson was elected Vice-President.

The new President recommended economy to the government. There was not a dollar in the treasury. He caused his own salary to be reduced, and several useless offices were abolished by his advice. He favored a more friendly attitude toward the Indians, and the establishment of trading-posts for them on the frontier. He advised that no active steps be taken against Mexico, though Texas, he said, should be prepared to defend herself against that country if necessary.

For Santa Anna, after many turns of fortune, was once more in power in Mexico, and had declared war against Texas.

In the spring of 1842 several incursions were made into Texas by Mexican soldiers. One band, under Rafael Vasquez, raided San Antonio; another swept the country about Refugio and Goliad. There was great excitement everywhere.

Excitement of another kind filled the new capital one day soon after these raids. The citizens, men, women, and children, swarmed into the streets, looking at each other with indignant eyes. The blockhouse stood wide open, showing plainly that the Indians had nothing to do with the trouble.

“What’s the matter?” demanded a tall hunter, who had just come in, rifle on shoulder, from the frontier. He glanced, as he spoke, from a small cannon in the street to a company of mounted rangers, who seemed to be guarding some wagons in front of the Land Office.

“Matter enough,” replied a dozen voices at once. “Old Sam Houston has changed the capital back to Houston and sent for the archives. We are determined that the records of the Republic shall remain in the true capital of the Republic.”

This was true. President Houston, believing Austin in its exposed position was in danger of Mexican raids, had fixed Houston as the place of meeting for the next Congress. Perhaps he was not sorry for the chance, for he had a great affection for the town named for himself. He had also ordered the archives removed to that place. The people of Austin had refused to allow their removal. The angry President had then sent an armed force to take them.

When the loaded wagons turned away from the Land Office they were greeted by a volley of grape and canister from the little cannon—touched off by a woman, Mrs. Eberle. No one was hurt, and in the confusion the wagons rattled away, protected by their escort.

The citizens armed themselves and pursued the train. They came up with it during the night about eighteen miles from Austin. After a conference between the leaders on both sides, the rangers agreed to carry the records back to the capital. The whole party appeared there the next day and were received with shouts of triumph by the people. The disputed parchments were placed in the house of the plucky woman who had fired the cannon, and there they remained until 1845, when the government finally returned to Austin. This new Waterloo has come down to us under the title of the “War of the Archives.”

Congress met at Houston in June, 1842. In September a Mexican army, commanded by General Adrian Woll and numbering twelve hundred men, invaded Texas. They marched upon San Antonio, captured it, and made prisoners of nearly all the citizens and the members of the District Court then in session.

Upon news of this outrage the people everywhere took up arms. Two hundred and twenty soldiers, including Captain Jack Hays’ company of scouts, left Gonzales immediately to attack Woll. They were commanded by Colonel Matthew Caldwell. The Mexican general came out to meet them, and an engagement took place on the Salado River a few miles from San Antonio. General Woll had six hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry. As they advanced the Texans received them with a rattling hail of bullets.

Three times the Mexican infantry charged with great spirit and coolness; each time they were driven back. They finally retreated, carrying with them their dead and wounded, and leaving the Texans in possession of the field.

This victory was offset by the defeat of a company of fifty-three Texans on their way to join Caldwell. They were commanded by Captain Nicholas Dawson.

General Woll met these men in his retreat from the river Salado, and attacked them in a small mesquit thicket where they were halted. After an unequal contest of half an hour, Dawson hoisted a white flag. The firing ceased, but as soon as the surrender took place, the prisoners were set upon by the Mexican soldiers and many of them killed. Dawson was killed after he gave up his arms. Out of his fifty-three men, thirty-three were killed and eighteen were made prisoners. Two only escaped; one of these, a lad named Gonzales Woods, seized the lance thrust at him by a Mexican cavalryman, jerked his assailant to the ground, then leaped upon his enemy’s horse and galloped away.

The morning after these skirmishes General Woll abandoned San Antonio and returned to the west side of the Rio Grande River. His prisoners, among whom were Judge Hutchison and ex-Lieutenant-Governor Robinson, were sent to the Castle of Perote (Pā-ro′tā), a prison near the city of Mexico.

5. THE BLACK BEANS.

Before the echoes of the bugles which sounded General Woll’s retreat had finally died on the air, volunteers came flocking to San Antonio eager to pursue him, and determined to cross the Rio Grande at all hazards and release the Texans languishing in Mexican prisons.

On the 18th of November seven hundred men, armed and equipped for a campaign, were assembled in the shadow of the twin towers of the old Mission Concepcion. General Alexander Somervell, appointed by President Houston to the command, put himself at the head of this small army; the order to march ran down the line, and with a shout the men set their faces toward the west.

After several days’ march they camped at Laredo on the banks of the Rio Grande River. They expected to cross at once into Mexico and take the enemy by surprise. But at the moment when everything seemed to them favorable for this movement, General Somervell issued an order for his soldiers to return to Gonzales, where they would be disbanded.

The men were dumfounded. Three hundred flatly refused to obey the order. The others, after much wrangling, followed General Somervell to San Antonio.

Captain William S. Fisher was elected colonel in command of those who remained, and the expedition proceeded down the Rio Grande to a point opposite the Mexican town of Mier.

Mier was occupied by General Pedro Ampudia (Am-poo′dee-a) with two thousand troops. On Christmas morning, before daylight, Colonel Fisher led his men over the river. The Mexicans came out to meet them, but were forced to retreat before the hot fire of the Texans. By daylight the Texans had captured the enemy’s cannon and cut their way into the town. Here the fight went on, hand to hand, from street to street, from house to house.

But the superior numbers of the enemy enabled them to keep up the struggle, which lasted seventeen hours.

At the end of that time a flag of truce was sent by General Ampudia to Colonel Fisher. Fisher had been severely wounded early in the action; he was weakened by loss of blood and unnerved by pain; and he advised surrender, although up to this time his men had been victorious. He knew General Ampudia, he said, and he answered for his good faith.

After much discussion the majority of the men agreed to the surrender. The terms were most honorable.

No sooner were the articles signed and the Texan arms stacked, than the unfortunate prisoners began to suffer from the cruelty of their treacherous foes. They were put in irons and marched to Matamoras, thence to the interior. At the Hacienda of Salado, beyond Saltillo, they rose upon their guards, overpowered the soldiers, seized their weapons and horses, and escaped. But they found themselves in a strange country. They soon lost their way in the wild mountain passes, and after enduring great torture from hunger and thirst, they were finally recaptured and taken back to Salado.

On their arrival there they were met by an order from Santa Anna. Every tenth man of them was to be shot! One of their own number who understood Spanish was compelled to read this order to his companions. The rattle of handcuffs, indicating the surprise of the startled prisoners, was promptly silenced by the guards; and, amid a deadly stillness which succeeded the reading, an officer entered the shed where they were confined. He carried an earthen jar. The jar contained one hundred and seventy-five beans (the number of the prisoners). Seventeen of the beans were black, the others were white. The jar was placed on a bench and a handkerchief thrown over it. The roll was then called. Each prisoner stepped forward as his name was called, placed his hand in the jar, and drew out a bean.

The black beans in this fatal lottery meant death.

Some of the Mexican officers grew faint as they looked, and turned away their heads. But others bent forward eagerly, as if watching the throw of dice in an everyday game of chance.

It was Sunday afternoon, at the hour when the church bells were everywhere calling the people to vesper prayer, when this fearful drama began. Not one of the actors in it faltered or changed color at finding in his hand the black token of death. When the ordeal was ended, the shackles of the seventeen doomed men were knocked off. They were then hurried to a yard adjoining the shed and shot without further ceremony. Their comrades, crouched against the wall within, heard but too plainly the whispered prayers, the echoing shots, and the dying groans.

The survivors were carried to the Castle of Perote near the city of Mexico, where they found the prisoners taken by General Woll at San Antonio. They were immediately put to convict labor. “They were hitched to a wagon, twenty-five to a team, and compelled to haul rocks from the mountains to the Castle of Perote. The prisoners at no time, however, lost their buoyant spirits, nor did they ever lose an opportunity for fun. McFall, a powerful man, was put in the lead, and was always ready to get scared and run away with the wagon. This was often done, and the corners of the adobe houses always suffered in such cases. The Mexican officers would laugh, and the owners of the houses would swear in bad Spanish. The overseers were kept busy. They had the power of using the lash, but they did not do this very often, as the Texans made it their business, at the peril of their lives, to return such civilities with ample vengeance.”[31]

Several of the prisoners made their escape. Among these was Colonel Thomas Jefferson Green, who had been Fisher’s second in command. He was bitterly opposed to the surrender at Mier, and broke his sword across his knee rather than hand it to General Ampudia. Mr. John Twohig, of San Antonio, who had been carried into captivity by Woll, and several of his fellow-prisoners made a tunnel under the prison wall, through which they succeeded in getting out of the Castle and thence safe home again.

Mr. Wright of De Witt County was not so lucky. He was a very large man; after making his preparations for flight, he crawled into the tunnel, where he got along famously until he was about half way through. There he stuck fast, equally unable to go forward or to come back. Finally, with a despairing effort he slid back an inch or two, then a little further, until at last bruised, breathless, and torn, he got back into his dungeon, glad to settle down to prison life once more.

Among the captives was Samuel H. Walker, afterwards famous as a captain of cavalry in the Mexican war with the United States.

In September, 1844, these prisoners were finally released by Santa Anna, at the dying request, it is said, of his young and beautiful wife.

About the time the Mier expedition started from San Antonio, the capital was again removed from President Houston’s beloved town on Buffalo Bayou; this time to Washington on the Brazos.