“The news spread like wildfire. As we took him through the camp he trembled at the looks and words that assailed him, and prayed us continually, ‘for the love of God and the saints,’ not to let him be slain. We took him to Houston in safety. Houston was resting on the ground, having had, as my father knows, a night of great suffering. Santa Anna approached him, and, laying his hand on his heart, said: ‘I am General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, President of the Mexican Republic, and I claim to be your prisoner of war.’ Houston pointed to a seat, and then sent for Santa Anna’s secretary, Almonte, who is also a prisoner, and who speaks English perfectly.’
“When Almonte came, he embraced Santa Anna, and addressing Houston, said: ‘General, you are born to a great destiny. You have conquered the Napoleon of the West. Generosity becomes the brave and the fortunate.’
“Houston answered, sternly: ‘You should have remembered that sentiment at the Alamo and at Goliad.’
“Then the following conversation occurred. Santa Anna said:
“‘The Alamo was taken by storm. The usages of war permitted the slaughter.’
“‘We live in the nineteenth century, President. We profess to be Christians.’
“‘I have to remind you, General Houston, of the storming of San Sebastian, Ciudad, Riego and Badajos, by the Duke of Wellington.’
“‘That was in Spain. There may have been circumstances demanding such cruelty.’
“‘Permit me also to bring to your intelligence the battles at Fort Meigs and at the river Raisin. American prisoners were there given by English officers to their Indian allies for torture and death. The English war cry at Sandusky was, “Give the d—— Yankees no quarter.”’
“‘Sir, permit me to say, that you read history to a devilish purpose, if you read it to search after brutal precedents. At Goliad our men surrendered. They were promised safe-conduct out of Texas. The massacre at Goliad was a ferocious crime.’