Then there was three minutes of smoke and fire and blood.
Then a desperate hand-to-hand struggle. Our men had charged the
breastwork, with their rifles in their hands and their bowie-knives
between their teeth. When rifles and pistols had been discharged they
flung them away, rushed on the foe, and cut their path through a wall
of living Mexicans with their knives. 'Remember the Alamo!' 'Remember
the Goliad!' were the cries passed from mouth to mouth whenever the
slaughter slackened. The Mexicans were panic-stricken. Of one column of
five hundred Mexicans only thirty lived to surrender themselves as
prisoners of war."
"Was such slaughter needful, John?"
"Yes, it was needful, Phyllis. What do you say, father?"
"I say that we who shall reap where others sowed in blood and toil,
must not judge the stern, strong hands that labored for us. God knows
the kind of men that are needed for the work that is to be done. Peace
is pledged in war, and often has the Gospel path been laid o'er fields
of battle. San Jacinto will be no barren deed; 'one death for freedom
makes millions free!'"
"Did you lose many men, John?"
"The number of our slain is the miracle. We had seven killed and thirty
wounded. It is incredible, I know; and when the report was made to
Houston he asked, 'Is it a dream?'"
"But Houston himself was among the wounded, was he not?"
"At the very beginning of the fight a ball crashed through his ankle,
and his horse also received two balls in its chest; but neither man
nor horse faltered.
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