Letters From The Past- Anecdotes on the Battle of San Jacinto from General Thomas Rusk

[joe817]

(From Henry Foote's Texas and Texans, vol. 2, 1841

"During the battle of San Jacinto," says General Rusk, when the first Regiment and the Regulars had advanced within about one hundred yards of the breast-work of the enemy, a charge was made by a division of the Mexicans, under the command of Colonel Cespedes, (I think) on our Artillery, which was, at this time, a little in advance. Mexican cannon, which had been previously directed towards our Cavalry, was now ordered to make way for the charging party upon our Artillery, and was pointed in the direction of the first Regiment. An attempt was made to fire it, but the man who held the match was shot down by one of our soldiers. The first Regiment, at that instant, with the most deafening yell I ever heard, charged upon the breast-work. Our cannon fired at the same moment, and the Mexicans at the breast-work and cannon, as well as their charging party, commenced an immediate and disorderly flight.

GeneralCastrillion, who was commanding the Mexican Artillery, was standing on the ammunition boxes, behind the piece, exposed from head to foot. He used every effort to keep his men to the gun; when he found that to be impossible, he folded up his arms, stood and looked sullenly, and without moving, upon our troops, who were advancing upon him, until they arrived at or near the breast-work. He was fifty yards in the rear of his retreating men; when he turned round deliberately, and walked slowly off: He had proceeded some thirty or forty steps, when he was shot, and fell. I examined him, after the battle, and found that several rifleballs had passed directly through his body. Castrillion was a Gauchepin, or European Spaniard; was said to be quite a gentlemanly, honourable man, and was a General of Artillery."

"At the close of the fight," continues General Rusk, "and just after sun-down, Colonel Almonte came out of the woods, and surrendered, with about two hundred and fifty men. There were, at that place, not exceeding ten or fifteen Americans; and none of them could speak the Mexican language well. The prisoners were standing in a body, and they were asked, in the Spanish language, if any of them could speak English. Almonte answered, in Spanish, that they could not. They were then told, in Spanish, to form, two and two deep, and march with us to camp. They formed, and commenced marching accordingly. Our few men were distributed around them, as a guard. Most of us were very much fatigued, and such was the condition of the Mexicans also. As we proceeded along in this way, one of our men, who was so much tired that he could scarcely walk, being incommoded by a Mexican who was walking immediately before him, and who had dropped out of the line of the prisoners, observed to the intruder, in English, 'God d---n you, if you don't get back into line, I'll * * * * * with my bayonet.'

This conversation occurred near Almonte, who immediately told the prisoner who had been thus addressed, what had been said to him. I concluded that he, at least, must understand English very well, and that it was probably Almonte whom I saw before me. I, therefore, observed to him, 'You must be Colonel Almonte.' He replied in English, 'You speak well.' I then rode up to him, and gave him my hand, saying to him, 'It affords me great pleasure to see you, Colonel.' With great presence of mind, and with his customary politeness, he responded, 'The pleasure is reciprocal.'"

"During the fight, a Mexican officer found himself almost at the very muzzle of a rifle in the hands of one of our men. He begged for mercy, and happened at that moment to see a Mexican who was in our ranks, whose name was Manchaca, whom he had known for many years, at Bexar. He bellowed out to Manchaca, calling him a brother Mexican, and invoked him to save his life. Manchaca replied, 'No, d---n you, I'm no Mexican, I'm an American. Shoot him' and the soldier fired and killed him."

"Whilst the battle was in progress, the celebrated Deaf Smith, although on horseback, was with the infantry. When they got pretty near the enemy, Smith galloped on ahead, and dashed directly up to the Mexican line. Just as he reached it, his horse stumbled and fell, throwing him over his head among the enemy. Having dropped his sword in the fall, he jumped up, drew one of his belt pistols, presented it at the head of a Mexican, who was attempting to bayonet him, and the percussion-cap exploded without the pistol's going off. Upon which, Smith threw the pistol at the head of the Mexican, staggered him back, seized his gun, took it from him, and defended himself with it, until the infantry got up to his relief."

"A young man, by the name of Robbins, during the fight, dropped his gun, and, happening to run directly in contact with a Mexican soldier, who had also lost his gun, the Mexican seized Robbins, and, both being stout men, soon fell to the ground. Robbins managed, whilst contending on the earth, to get out a Bowie-knife, which he had in his belt, and quickly ended the contest, by cutting the Mexican's throat."

"About the commencement of the battle, Dr. Motley, a gentleman from Kentucky, and myself, were proximate to each other, near a corner of the enemy's breast-work. I saw Motley fall, and asked him if he was hurt. He replied, 'Yes, I believe I am mortally wounded.' I observed, 'Doctor, I will get some one to take care of you.' He responded, 'No; if you whip them, send back a man to assist me; but if you do not, I shall need no assistance.' He died the next day, perfectly resigned to his fate."

"On starting out from our camp to enter upon the attack, I saw an old gentleman, by the name of Curtis, carrying two guns. I asked him what was his reason for carrying more than one gun. He answered: 'D---n the Mexicans; they killed my son and son-in-law in the Alamo, and I intend to kill two of them for it, or be killed myself.' I saw the old man again, during the fight, and he told me he had killed his two men, and if he could find Santa Anna, he would cut a razor-strop out of his back."

"When the Mexicans were first driven from the point of woods where we encountered them, their officers tried to rally them, but the men cried, 'It's no use, it's no use, there are a thousand Americans in the woods.' When Santa Anna saw Almonte's division running past him, he called to a drummer, and ordered him to beat his drum. The drummer held up his hands and told him he was shot. He called out then to a trumpeter near him to sound his horn. The trumpeter replied that he, also, was shot. Just at that instant, a ball from one of our cannon struck a man who was standing near Santa Anna, taking off one side of his head. Santa Anna then exclaimed: 'D---n these Americans, I believe they will shoot us all.' These particulars I received from a little boy, who was one of our prisoners, and who said he was standing near Santa Anna at the time. He immediately mounted his horse, and commenced his flight."

"At the time that Santa Anna was brought into our camp," says the General [Rusk], "I was walking in company with young Zavala. We approached him together. Santa Anna recognized young Zavala at once, and advanced to meet him, with great apparent cordiality, uttering many expressions of kindness, such as are customary among Mexicans on such occasions; several of which I remember. Among other things, he exclaimed, 'Oh my friend, my friend, the son of my early friend' with which, and other exclamations in the same strain, he embraced young Zavala, with high indications of apparent feeling, and, I think, dropping a tear. Young Zavala returned his greeting with that deference which would have been due to his former rank and power; but, at the same time, emitting from his countenance an expression I have scarcely seen on any occasion besides. His look seemed to wither Santa Anna and staring him full in the face, he replied immediately, with great modesty, and something of a subdued tone, 'It has been so, Sir.' Santa Anna evinced plainly that he was much mortified."