Lopez rose at the words. It was impossible for him to express himself sufficiently in an attitude of repose. His eyes glowed like fire, his dark face was like a flame, he threw up his hands as he cried:
“Nothing comparable to that charge with knives was ever made on earth! If I had seen through the smoke and vapor the mighty shade of Bowie leading it, I should not have been surprised.”
“Perhaps indeed, he did lead it,” said the Senora, in a solemn voice. “I saw yes, by all the saints of God! I saw a great host with my Juan. They stretched out vast, shadowy arms—they made me FEEL what I can never tell. But I shall honor Senor Houston. I shall say to him some day. ‘Senor, the unseen battalions—the mighty dead as well as the mighty living—won the battle.’ Roberto, believe me, there are things women understand better than wise men.”
A little awe, a solemn silence, answered the earnest woman. Luis and Isabel came close to her, and Isabel took her hand. Lopez resumed the conversation. “I know Colonel Bowie,” he said. “In the last days at San Antonio I was often with him. Brave as a lion, true to his friends, relentless to his foes, was he. The knife he made was the expression of his character in steel. It is a knife of extreme unction—the oil and wafer are all that remains for the men who feels its edge. For my part, I honor the Senora’s thought. It is a great satisfaction to me to hope that Bowie, and Crockett, and Travis, and Fannin, and all their company were present at San Jacinto. If the just God permitted it, ‘twas a favor of supreme justice.”
“But then you are not alone in the thought, Lopez. I heard General Sherman say, ‘Poor Fannin! He has been blamed for not obeying Houston’s orders. I THINK HE OBEYED THEM TO-DAY.’ At the moment I did not comprehend; but now it is plain to me. He thought Fannin had been present, and perhaps it was this belief made him so impetuous and invincible. He fought like a spirit; one forgot that he was flesh and blood.”
“Sherman is of a grand stock,” said the doctor; “descended from the wise Roger Sherman; bred in Massachusetts and trained in all the hardy virtues of her sons. It was from his lips the battle-cry of ‘REMEMBER THE ALAMO!’ sprang.”
“But then, Roberto, nothing shall persuade me that my countrymen are cowards.”
“On the contrary, Maria, they kept their ground with great courage. They were slain by hundreds just where they stood when the battle began. Twenty-six officers and nearly seven hundred men were left dead upon the field. But the flight was still more terrible. Into the bayou horses and men rolled down together. The deep black stream became red; it was choked up with their dead bodies, while the mire and water of the morass was literally bridged with the smothered mules and horses and soldiers.”
“The battle began at three o’clock; but we heard the firing only for a very short time,” said Antonia.
“After we reached their breastworks it lasted just eighteen minutes. At four, the whole Mexican army was dead, or flying in every direction, and the pursuit and slaughter continued until twilight. Truly an unseen power made all our moves for us. It was a military miracle, for our loss was only eight killed and seventeen wounded.”