04/21/2026
Today is the day! The last 2+ months of 1836 Texas history posts lead up to today's event...an eighteen minute battle:
The Texans awoke to find Thursday, April 21, a clear fine day. Refreshed by a breakfast of bread made with flour from the captured Mexican supplies and meat from beeves slaughtered the day before, they were eager to attack the enemy. They could see Santa Anna's flags floating over the enemy camp, and heard the Mexican bugle calls on the crisp morning air.
It was discovered at about nine o'clock that General Cos had crossed Vince's bridge, about eight miles behind the Texans' camp, with some 540 picked troops, swelling the enemy forces to about 1265. General Houston ordered "Deaf" Smith and a detail to destroy the bridge and prevent further enemy reinforcements. This also would prevent the retreat of either the Texans or the Mexicans toward Harrisburg. In dry weather Vince's Bayou was about fifty feet wide and ten feet deep, but the excessive April rains made it several times wider and deeper.
Shortly before noon, General Houston held a council of war with Colonels Burleson and Sherman, Lieutenant Colonels Millard, Somervell and Bennett, and Major Wells. Two of the officers suggested attacking the enemy in his position, while the others favored awaiting Santa Anna's attack. Houston withheld his own views, but later, after having formed his plan of battle, submitted it to Secretary of War Rusk, who approved it.
General Houston disposed his forces in battle order at about 3:30 in the afternoon. Over on the Mexican side all was quiet; many of the foemen were enjoying their customary siesta. The Texans' movements were screened by the trees and the rising ground, and evidently Santa Anna had no lookouts posted. Big, shaggy and commanding in his mud-stained unmilitary garb, the chieftain rode his horse up and down the line. "Now hold your fire, men," he warned in his deep voice, "until you get the order!"
At the command, "Advance," the patriots, 910 strong, moved quickly out of the woods and over the rise, deploying. Bearded and ragged from forty days in the field, they were a fierce-looking band. But their long rifles were clean and well oiled. Only one company, Captain William Wood's "Kentucky Rifles," originally recruited by Sidney Sherman, wore uniforms.
Silently and tensely the Texas battle line swept across the prairie and swale that was No Man's land, the men bending low. A soldier's fife piped up with "Will You Come to the Bower,"' a popular tune of the day. That was the only music of the battle. [Several veterans of the battle said the tune played was "Yankee Doodle."] As the troops advanced Deaf Smith galloped up and told Houston, "Vince's bridge has been cut down." The General announced it to the men. Now both armies were cut off from retreat in all directions but one, by a roughly circular moat formed by Vince's and Buffalo Bayous to the west and north, San Jacinto River to the north and cast, and by the marshes and the bay to the east and southeast.
The two little cannons (Twin Sisters) were wheeled into position and belched their charges of iron slugs into the enemy barricade. Then the whole line, led by Sherman's men, sprang forward on the run, yelling, "Remember the Alamo!" "Remember Goliad!" All together they opened fire, blazing away practically point-blank at the surprised and panic-stricken Mexicans. They stormed over the breastworks, seized the enemy's artillery, and joined in hand-to-hand combat, emptying their pistols, swinging their guns as clubs, slashing right and left with their knives. Mexicans fell by the scores under the impact of the savage assault.
A brave Mexican general tried to rally the swarthy Latins but he was killed and his men became crazed with fright. Many threw down their guns and ran; many wailed, "Me no Alamo!" "Me no Goliad!" But their pleas won no mercy. The enraged revolutionists reloaded and chased after the stampeding enemy, shooting them, stabbing them, clubbing them to death. From the moment of the first collision the battle was a slaughter, frightful to behold. The fugitives ran in wild terror over the prairie and into the boggy marshes, but the avengers of the Alamo and Goliad followed and slew them, or drove them into the waters to drown. Men and horses, dead and dying, in the morass in the rear and right of the Mexican camp, formed a bridge for the pursuing Texans. Blood reddened the water. General Houston tried to check the ex*****on but the fury of his men was beyond restraint.
Some of the Mexican cavalry tried to escape over Vince's bridge, only to find that the bridge was gone. In desperation, some of the flying horsemen spurred their mounts down the steep bank; some dismounted and plunged into the swollen stream. The Texans came up and poured a deadly fire into the welter of Mexicans struggling with the flood. Escape was virtually impossible. General Houston rode slowly from the field of victory, his ankle shattered by a rifle ball. At the foot of the oak, where he badly slept the previous night, he fainted and slid from his horse into the arms of Major Hockley, his chief of staff.
As the crowning stroke of a glorious day, General Rusk presented to him as a prisoner the Mexican general Don Juan Almonte, who had surrendered formally with about 400 men. The casualties, according to Houston's official report, numbered 630 Mexicans killed, 208 wounded, and 730 taken prisoner. As against this heavy score, only nine Texans were killed or mortally wounded, and thirty wounded less seriously. Most of their injuries came from the first scattered Mexican volley when the attackers stormed their barricade. The Texans captured a large supply of muskets, pistols, sabers, mules, horses, provisions, clothing, tents and paraphernalia, and $12,000 in silver.
Santa Anna had disappeared...
