The frontiersmen rushed immediately upon the regular soldiers, who levelled their muskets at them and fired in their very faces. The Texans were not armed, but they pressed onward, received the fire, and closed in upon the yellow-skinned custodians of the jail. It was too bold a dash for the Mexicans. They surrendered or fled after the first fire, but the Texans had other soldiers to face.
A second company of infantry was stationed at the gate and a force of cavalry was outside. The gallant Texans did not hesitate for an instant. The desperate fellows rushed upon them, and a terrible fight ensued. Most of them had secured guns by now, and, when the second hand-to-hand fight took place, they were better prepared to force their way. “Big Foot” Wallace did not have a gun, so he rushed at a Mexican who had discharged his piece, and tried to disarm him. The fellow had a bayonet upon the end of his musket. He made a vicious thrust at the gaunt and lanky man from Texas.
“Big Foot” seized the bayonet with his bare hands, and a hard struggle took place for the possession of it. As they bent to and fro, an unarmed prisoner came up behind, and, seizing the gun in the centre, wrested it from the Mexican. The soldier fell upon his knees, held up his hands, and called out loudly: “Señors, have mercy! Have mercy!”
“You can go,” shouted “Big Foot” Wallace.
The fight was now raging fiercely and the scout went into the thick of it, brandishing the musket which he had just captured, and doing awful execution with the bayonet. The Texans were getting nearer and nearer to the gate which opened upon the streets of the town. The Mexicans were uttering screams and yells of terror and surprise. The Rangers were among them with clubbed guns and were delivering blows to the right and left. The cavalry became terror-stricken and fled. The infantrymen at the gate began to throw down their arms and try to surrender.
One Mexican lieutenant showed extraordinary bravery. His name was Barragan,—a son of the commander of the Mexican force. Backing against a wall, he brandished his sword aloft, and refused to surrender except to an officer. Six Texans surrounded him and thrust bayonets at his breast, but he kept his arm in motion and successfully parried every thrust. His sabre was moved about with such rapidity that it could hardly be seen.
At this time “Big Foot” Wallace came up. “Here,” cried a Texan, “you shoot this fellow, ‘Big Foot.’ He deserves death.”
But the lanky Texan shook his head. “No,” said he. “This man deserves better treatment, for he is a brave soldier. I refuse to shoot him.”
“Let me see your Captain,” cried the Mexican. “To him I will surrender my sword.”
Captain Cameron came up at once and the blade was turned over to him. With a proud look the Mexican stepped back and folded his arms.