After the names had been called over, the order to march was given, and
we filed out through the gate of the fortress, the Greys taking the
lead. Outside the gate we were received by two detachments of Mexican
infantry, who marched along on either side of us, in the same order as
ourselves. We were about four hundred in number, and the enemy about
seven hundred, not including the cavalry, of which numerous small groups
were scattered about the prairie. We marched on in silence, not however,
in the direction we had anticipated, but along the road to Victoria.
This surprised us; but upon reflection we concluded that they were
conducting us to some eastern port, thence to be shipped to New Orleans,
which, upon the whole, was perhaps the best and shortest plan. There was
something, however, in the profound silence of the Mexicali soldiers,
who are usually unceasing chatterers, that inspired me with a feeling of
uneasiness and anxiety. It was like a funeral march, and truly might it
so be called. Presently I turned my head to see if Miller's people had
joined, and were marching with us. But, to my extreme astonishment,
neither they nor Fanning's men, nor the Georgia battalion, were to be
seen. They had separated us without our observing it, and the detachment
with which I was marching consisted only of the Greys and a few Texian
colonists. Glancing at the escort, their full dress uniform and the
absence of all baggage, now for the first time struck me. I thought of
the bloody scenes that had occurred at Tampico, San Patricio, and the
Alamo, of the false and cruel character of those in whose power we were,
and I was seized with a presentiment of evil. For a moment I was about
to communicate my apprehensions to my comrades; but hope, which never
dies, again caused me to take a more cheering view of our situation.
Nevertheless, in order to be prepared for the worst, and, in case of
need, to be unencumbered in my movements, I watched my opportunity, and
threw away amongst the grass of the prairie a bundle containing the few
things that the thievish Mexicans had allowed me to retain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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