He nodded off, into a dose, but was awakened by Jim nudging him.
“Look at the fire,” bade Jim, in low tones. “San Felipe’s burning!”
The sky in the south was red, and growing redder. The rain had ceased, and upon the overcast sky the lurid glow mounted high and higher. All the camp was awake, watching, in a state of fresh alarm.
General Houston had arisen from his saddle seat, and was stalking from mess to mess.
“I gave no orders for this,” he repeated. “The citizens have done it. It is a military measure, to anticipate the enemy. But there is no battle. We hear no guns. The enemy shall not cross the Brazos. It is well defended. Should they reach the west bank at San Felipe they will find no shelter and supplies.”
However, the burning of the town—the first American town in Texas, located by Stephen Austin—put the army in the dumps again, and the song of “Will You Come to the Bower” was not renewed when the men prepared for another dismal march. Three taps of the drum, by the general himself, as the reveille, fell flatly on the heavy atmosphere. Some of the men had left families on the Brazos near San Felipe—some owned houses in San Felipe itself; and they hated to move further on, while behind them the smoke pall hung. Where were the Mexicans? Henry Karnes and the “Deaf Smith Spy Company” were constantly out, on the scout, but they brought in no definite news.
On March 31, which was Thursday, camp was made in the bottom-lands near Groce’s Ferry, of the Brazos between San Felipe and Washington. It looked as though this was to be a camp for several days, at least, for the general set everybody at work clearing away the brush on the margin of a large pond back from the river.
What next? Nobody seemed to know. The army had retreated over 200 miles from Gonzales, and now had dwindled down from the 1300 men at the Colorado to only a little more than 500 men. But the general was energy itself. He never quit for a minute. The steamboat Yellowstone, commanded by Captain Ross, was found at Groce’s Ferry loading with cotton for the Gulf. The general ordered this seized and held, to be used should the army cross to the east bank.
He formed the little army into regiments. General Burleson commanded the first, and Lieutenant-Colonel Sidney Sherman of the Kentucky volunteers (the company with the beautiful flag) was promoted to command the second. The cavalry were attached to this regiment, and now for the first time Jim and Ernest were under a settled officer. Leo remained in the infantry, under Colonel Burleson, and Sion was still down opposite the ruins of San Felipe, with the Captain Baker company.
The camp was aroused each morning by the three taps of the drum at the general’s quarters, and there were daily drills. There also was rain—rain, rain, rain, until the camp was a mud island, for the river Brazos overflowed and surrounded it. Rain, mud, and measles, and bad water; half the men ill with one disease or another, and the general laid up, part of the time, in a tent that he had procured.