“It’s in the hands of God now,” the woman said.
“I wish the priest would come by. He would know what to do.”
The man wasn’t nearly as devout as his wife, but he wisely made no comment. He rose from the table to see to Jamie’s horse. When the horse was stabled and rubbed down and fed, the man gathered up Jamie’s weapons, unloaded them, and cleaned them of mud and blood.
He and his wife had carefully cleaned the wounds, then stopped the new bleeding with cayenne pepper. They applied poultices to the wounds and then sat back and waited for Jamie to die. The man and his wife had done all they knew to do.
* * *
It would be days, in some cases, even weeks, before all the Anglos in Texas knew what had taken place at the Alamo. While Jamie lay hovering between life and death, sometimes conscious enough to drink herbal tea brewed by the Mexican woman, Houston was putting together and pulling together his Texas army.
When Mrs. Susanna Dickerson was found by Houston’s scouts, she told them what had happened at the Alamo and also that General Santa Anna had ordered a detachment of his troops to march to Gonzales and either drive out or kill all Americans.
A pall settled over the tiny town of Gonzales. The entire force of Texans at the Alamo had been killed and their bodies burned. But soon despair turned to outrage and cold fury. Who in the hell did Santa Anna think he was to treat human beings in such a manner? To mutilate and butcher and then burn the bodies like so much garbage. Goddamn the man!
“We retreat,” Houston said, and then waited for the howls of protest to die down. “We have no choice in the matter. Send a rider to Goliad and order Colonel Fannin to pull out and link up with us... here.” He pointed to a crude map. “Tell him to destroy the fort and get the hell out of there. And tell him that by God I want this order obeyed!”
A rider was immediately dispatched to Goliad, to Fannin at Fort Defiance.
Houston immediately had Gonzales evacuated. His plan was to fall back across the Colorado River. The rain that had started a few days earlier fell in abundance now, turning the poor roads into roads of mud. The soldiers and the frightened refugees had a very tough time of it, but they made the Colorado with Santa Anna’s troops right behind them. Houston’s men crossed the river just before it poured over its banks and flooded everything. A full Mexican division was looking at him from the west side of the river. Houston was counting on Fannin for help, and wondered where in the hell the man was.
But Fannin once more had difficulty in making up his mind. He decided to delay leaving Fort Defiance. That decision would cost him his life and the lives of his men. When he finally decided to abandon the fort, he got some four or five miles outside of Goliad and found himself looking at about two thousand Mexican soldiers, under the command of General Urrea. Fannin had slightly over four hundred men under his command. He ordered his wagons circled and made his stand. They fought for several days, killing over three hundred Mexican troops, but finally had to surrender. There was no hope left. Urrea assured Fannin he and his men would be treated fairly and humanely.
A week after Fannin surrendered, on a Sunday morning, Fannin and his men were taken outside of Goliad and shot... on orders from Santa Anna. The thirty or so badly injured men, unable to march out of town, were carried outside the makeshift hospital and also executed.
* * *
When the news of the slaughter at Goliad began leaking out over the countryside, many of the civilians went into a panic, quickly packing a few possessions, and taking off for safer ground.
Nearly three weeks had passed since the fall of the Alamo, and the news had finally reached Kate and the others living in the Big Thicket country just east of San Augustine. She was devastated; but she could not bring herself to believe that Jamie’s ashes were among those scattered to the wind around the Alamo. She knew her Jamie, and knew that among his virtues was the ability to survive.
“Kate,” Sam Montgomery told her, as the month of March drew to a close. “You’ve got to accept it. Jamie is gone.”
“No!”
“Kate, Kate, I don’t like it, either. I’m heartsick at just the thought. But there were no survivors.”
Kate looked up at the sounds of a lone horseman making his way up the lane. It was the man who ran the livery in San Augustine. He dismounted and took off his hat. “Ma’am,” he said. “Sam. I got news. Some of the women that was in the Alamo is talking. They say that just hours before the fall, Colonel Travis sent out a man with a pouch full of messages from the defenders. They said it was Jamie MacCallister.”
Kate’s heart swelled and she nearly swooned. Sam steadied her arm and she leaned against him.
“How straight is this news?” Sam asked.
“Pretty straight, Sam. And the patrol that found Susanna Dickerson said they come up on a place where there had been one hell of fight ’tween somebody and some Shawnees.”
“Shawnees?” Kate asked. “There are no Shawnees near San Antonio.”
“Well, not many, leastways,” the liveryman replied. “Anyhow, whoever is was that fought these Shawnees killed more than his share, according to the patrol. They counted eleven bodies. All Injun.”
“And the white man?” Sam asked. “Assuming it was a white man; what about him?”
“Not a trace, Sam. Looks like he got away clean.”
“Did not,” the heavy voice spoke from behind them, startling them all.
They whirled around. It was the huge Cherokee, Egg. He had slipped up on them as silently as a snake.
“Get wagon,” the Cherokee enforcer said. “Pack provisions for a long trip. I will take you to your man.”
“He’s alive?” Kate cried.
“Yes. Badly hurt. Long way off.”
“I’ll go with you, Kate,” Sam said.
“You stay here,” Egg told him firmly, in a tone that Sam had learned meant the subject was closed. “No one will bother us. I have man with me to drive wagon. We leave in one hour.” He looked at Kate. “No more faint. You must be strong. Move!”
* * *
Houston now had about a thousand men. He could never be sure because of the desertions and new additions that were arriving every day. Houston formed a cavalry unit, and assigned men to man the cannon, of which he had six, all mounted.
Meanwhile, Santa Anna had left San Antonio and joined up with General Sesma. It made for an awesome force of trained, combat-experienced soldiers. Santa Anna felt confident that this time, he would drive every American out of Texas... or kill them where they stood.
Then he made a fatal mistake.
He split up his huge army into several groups. He sent over twelve hundred troops to the south, about nine hundred to the north, and he took personal command of a select group of infantry and cavalry and crossed the Colorado river — his objective was San Felipe.
That move was to be Santa Anna’s Waterloo.
* * *
On April 21st, 1836, Kate arrived at the home of the Mexican couple who had cared for Jamie. On that same date, far to the east, Houston and his army were preparing to meet Santa Anna’s troops in the battle that would turn the tide for Texas independence.
Kate knelt down beside the wasted body of her husband and let her tears bathe his face. Jamie was alive and conscious, but his hideous wounds had ravaged him. He had lost about seventy-five pounds and was only a shell of what he had once been.
But he was alive.
Kate pressed a hundred dollars in gold coin into the hands of the Mexican couple. They gasped at the money. That was a small fortune. They had never seen so much money. They tried to return it, but Kate would have none of that.