Some lives seem cast in a mould of self-abnegation, as it were; are so unmindful of self, and so full of helpfulness for others that they pass out into God's great eternity unnoticed and are all too soon forgotten. Such in an eminent degree is the case of Valentine Bennet, of whom it is a sacred privilege to write, to trace anew the records of a life giving its best years to Texas; a patient, devoted servant of the young Republic, who esteemed no sacrifice too great nor any hardship as such, for the beautiful land of his adoption.
The Bennet family held an ancient seat in the north of England, whence its knights issueing forth to do service for the King, bore upon their banners the royal quarterings. It is said laughingly that an old grandam of the family, when some misfortune had befallen her children, was wont to comfort them by saying, “Oh you have the lion's paw anyway; don't fret.”
When the family came to America is not known, but it is certain that one of the sons, Valentine, a young man at the breaking out of the War of 1812, did valiant service in a Massachusetts regiment at the battles of Brandywine and Lundy's Lane. He married a Miss Kibbe, whose family, also of English origin, is mentioned in the charming story of Lorna Doone. The elder Mr. Kibbe, having secured large grants of land in what was known as the “Attakapas country,” induced his family of sons and daughters, married and single, to emigrate with him to this new Louisiana region; and, embarking with all their worldly possessions on flatboats, they came down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, and through a bayou, to their future home. Here many vicissitudes of fortune befell them, and Mary, the wife of Valentine Bennet, died, leaving him, broken in heart and in home, with two children—a son of two years and an infant daughter. Realizing the utter impossibility of rearing his children in this wilderness, he took them to Cincinnati, and fortunately was able to place them in the care of an excellent Scotch Presbyterian lady whose careful training was shown in the high moral character of the boy and girl who afterwards became useful citizens of the Republic and of the State of Texas.
Mr. Bennet himself engaged in boating on the Mississippi, and became the owner of a steamboat plying on the river. This boat sank, and after many adverse experiences he bade adieu to his children and departed for Austin's Colony, in the Province of Texas. At Brazoria he was building a house when summoned to join the colonists in their attack on Fort Velasco, June 26, 1831. Here he was severely wounded in face and hip, and lay for months a helpless sufferer at the home of a patriot friend. Mr. Bennet thus took part in the first open and armed defiance of the colonists against Mexico, and was one of the first to shed his blood for this new cause of freedom.
We next hear of him at Gonzales as one of the “immortal eighteen” who, throwing the gauntlet in the face of Ugartechea, resisted his demand for the cannon. The news of the situation at Gonzales drew many hastily-armed citizens thither, and a volunteer army of Texas was immediately organized with General Stephen F. Austin in command. Valentine Bennet, from his early experience in the War of 1812, was a fine tactician, and, being commissioned lieutenant, drilled the troops as they moved to the vicinity of San Antonio. He was with the small force that fought the battle of Concepción, and an active participant in the siege of Bexar, where he was made quartermaster. His service in that campaign was especially commended in the dispatches of General Ed. Burleson, then commanding the volunteer army, who says: “I have also to contribute my praise to Major Bennet, Quartermaster General, for the diligence and success with which he supplied both armies during the siege and storm.” For this especial service Major Bennet afterwards received from the Republic of Texas a donation of 640 acres of land.
After the fall of the Alamo, the army, under command of General Houston, fell back from Gonzales, and the town was burned. The family of Captain Westover (a victim of Goliad) had care of the account books of Major Bennet, but was unable to save them from the burning house. On the retreat Major Bennet was extremely busy in procuring beef and commissary supplies, teams and wagons, and on the eve of the battle of San Jacinto, it was he who handed the axes to Deaf Smith when he sped on his momentous mission to Vince's Bridge. While the Texas army was encamped on the battleground of San Jacinto and after the engagement, occurred a funny little incident in the commissary department: Major Bennet having received, among other stores for the troops, a hogshead of sugar, and apprehending the difficulty of securing it from pilferers, inquired for a “good, honest soldier,” and was directed to Mr. Em. H. Darst, whom he placed as an especial sentinel over the sugar until it could be regularly issued by the quartermaster's sergeant. Major Bennet, being much occupied by his other duties, did not return to the sugar for some time, and upon doing so, what was his astonishment at seeing Darst, who had made a sack of his drawers and filled the legs full of the coveted “sweetening,” making off from the hogshead. The ludicrous appearance of Darst and the chagrin of the quartermaster were the occasion of much merriment among the boys who knew the circumstances, and there were many jokes at the expense of the Major and his “good soldier.”
Remaining in the army, Mr. Bennet was in 1838 granted a three months' furlough, during which time he visited his children in Cincinnati, and brought back with him his son, Miles S. On arriving at Galveston, they were met by Colonel Mosely Baker who, greeting them affectionately, exclaimed, “Well, Major, so you have brought another rifle to Texas.”
The writer feels that she can not better continue this life-story than by quoting here at some length from a diary kept by her father, Miles S., which will show how now began that comradeship so beautiful and touching in its devotion between father and son, hitherto strangers to each other. The diary says: “Reporting at headquarters at Houston for duty, June 5, 1838, father was by General Barnard E. Bee, quartermaster general, instructed to proceed to Fort Houston, San Bernard, Texana, Gonzales, and San Antonio, to collect and preserve the scattered military stores, have the beeves and army horses taken care of, and to report the condition of the frontier. Being entitled to a clerk and assistant, he took me with him to act in that capacity. On our route we went to Samuel Damon's, at the Mound, six miles northwest of Columbia; his house was the repository of some of father's quarter-master's account books and the Texas `Star Brand' that he had made for the cavalry horses. Proceeding to the San Bernard, we examined the horses in the care of Mr. Anders and sent them to headquarters; visited Captain McFarland's command at the old station, and issued a requisition for stores for some of his sick men.1 Went by Texana and the La Vaca settlements to Gonzales. A few of the families who had survived the `Runaway Scrape' of April, 1836, were returning and rebuilding their old burned homes; they knew father well, and begged him to use his influence at headquarters to have some troops sent for the protection of this frontier. Reporting from San Antonio, where we found a few military stores and only about twenty Americans, we were ordered to remain there for the present. Returning to Houston, we were received with consideration by General Houston, and by special invitation we both attended his levee on December 7, 1838. We were authorized to procure wagons, teams, beef, corn and comissary stores for the marching of two companies of troops from headquarters at Houston for the protection of the Gonzales and San Antonio frontier.”
In the meantime Major Bennet had completed a comfortable home in Gonzales to which he brought his daughter, Sarah, who had grown into a cultured and lovely woman, one whose strong Christian character impressed itself upon all who came within her influence. At this time occurred a serio-comic incident in the home life. By some rare good fortune the Major had procured for his daughter the gift of a barrel of handsome china, and, in lieu of a cabinet, shelves were constructed for its safe keeping, and here the cups and pretty things were tastefully displayed by the young chatelaine. But alas, the house cat, spying an intruding mouse, sprang to the uppermost shelf, where she overturned a large platter, which fell upon another large platter, which brought the shelf down upon the next below and so on, until the whole fell in utter ruin and with amazing crash. The tears of the young lady were unavailing for, although the indulgent father and brother would have done all in their power, to have replaced this fragile china would have been in those days almost as impossible, and quite as useless, as to have imported a peach blow vase.
Another incident occurred about this time which exemplifies the scrupulous ideas of integrity and the upright business character of Major Bennet. It seems that the day for the payment of a certain sum, $500 in coin, in the city of Houston was fast drawing near. How to transport this sum safe from the eyes of marauding freebooters and bands of Indians was a question. It was finally decided by arranging that Miles S. should go on horseback accompanied by a faithful man, Larrabee,2 and his ox wagon by means of which supplies might be brought back on the long and tedious way, for it was summer. Accordingly, arrangements were completed and dried beef and “pones” of hard-baked corn-bread and a small supply of ground coffee placed on the wagon. The tar bucket, which, for lubricating purposes, always hung from the rear of the wagon, was removed, its contents poured out, the silver dollars placed in the bottom, the melted tar and grease refilling it, nearly to the top, and the innocent looking bucket swung to its accustomed place, although a shrewd observer could have seen that it was rather securely fastened. On nearing Houston they were warned not to enter, as yellow fever held the town. Here was a dilemma. Young Bennet was just from the North, a fine subject for the fever, of which he had a mortal dread. To send a hired man into danger, from which he himself shrank he scorned to do, and to return to that father with the mission for which he had gone so many miles unaccomplished, did not occur to him. So removing from its greasy receptacle the money and cleaning it as best he could, he tied it in a wallet to his saddle, mounted his horse and at high noon rode into the plague-stricken city, discharged the duty and the debt and galloped back to the camp. Here he found Larrabee with the frugal meal ready, the oxen yoked, and the heads of those oxen turned to Gonzales. But this happy home life at Gonzales lasted only a short time, as, early in 1841, Mr. Bennet was re-commissioned major in the quartermaster's department and sent on the Santa Fé expedition, the hardest campaign of all his life—that which shattered his strong constitution, tried his fortitude, and broke his spirit.
To discuss the wisdom, or the policy, of this undertaking would be foreign to the intent of this article. The following brief summary from the Galveston News of August 2, 1892, will suffice:
“During President Lamar's term of office, the Congress of the Republic having failed to make provision for the support of the army, the troops were disbanded. The President in his message of 1839, had recommended measures for the assertion of the jurisdiction of Texas over the Territory of New Mexico, and bills had been introduced into both Houses of Congress for the purpose of authorizing an expedition to Santa Fé, and making small appropriations for that object, but both bills were rejected. Nevertheless, in the spring of 1841 preparations were made under the sanction of the President for such an enterprise, but the intention was declared to be simply to invite the people of that region to accept the jurisdiction of Texas, with an offer to assist them in resisting the Indians and the authority of the supreme government of Mexico.
“The command was instructed not to attempt the forcible subjugation of the country in case of resistence, and Colonel W. G. Cook, Dr. R. F. Brenham and Colonel José Antonio Navarro were appointed commissioners to treat with the authorities and people of New Mexico. Colonel Hugh McLeod was military commander of the expedition, and notwithstanding the lack of appropriations the President gave orders to the commissary and headquarters general of militia to purchase the necessary provisions and munitions, indorsed the order himself and directed the proper officers to audit and pay them. Hon. James B. Shaw was comptroller and refused to obey the order, but was overruled by the President and secretary of the treasury and about $90,000 drawn from the treasury for the purpose.
“Five companies of mounted infantry and one of artillery were raised, but the whole number of soldiers was but 270, which was increased by the commissioners, merchants, tourists and servants to about 320 in all. The project had become known all over the United States and in both Old and New Mexico, while the departure of the expedition was delayed more than a month after the time for its intended start. No breadstuffs were carried and the only dependence for food was an insufficient number of beeves on foot and such wild game as might be procured on the route. No known route was pursued, and after setting out from Brushy creek, above Austin, on the 20th of June, 1841, its movements were directed by guides evidently unacquainted with the country.
“After undergoing fearful hardships the expedition finally reached the borders of New Mexico, and an advance guard sent forward to San Miguel to confer with the authorities. There they were captured, through treachery, by the Mexicans, and a short time afterward the main body of Texans were surrendered by Colonel McLeod. The prisoners were treated with the utmost barbarity by Armijo, the governor of New Mexico, and Salezear, one of his officers, and a number of them were murdered in cold blood. The survivors were marched under a strong guard to the City of Mexico, where they were kept in prison until 1842, when they were released, and in August of that year reached Galveston from Vera Cruz by vessel, and from here were sent forward to their homes in the interior.”
Before the final march to Mexico the ill-fated prisoners were confined for some time in a prison of San Cristoval, from which the following letter, given in fac-simile, was written by Major Bennet. This, being the only specimen of his handwriting which any of the family now living have ever seen, is highly prized by them:
Those who have read Mr. Kendall's account of this expedition will recall the forlorn picture of the captive Texans as they entered the City of Mexico—“some suffering from smallpox in all its stages borne on litters; the rest in clothing which would have disgraced a party of beggars, mounted on burros, their appearance excited no little sensation among the kind-hearted women. Although suffering from fever, I could not help laughing at a circumstance which occurred at this time. Among our party was Major Bennet, our quartermaster before the capture of the expedition. He was some 55 or 60 years of age, but hale and hearty, although suffering now the pains incident to the early stage of smallpox. He was a native of Massachusetts, Puritan by birth and education; knew the Bible by heart, and was always ready with a quotation from that book to `point his moral and adorn his tale.' Though sick and a captive, nothing could daunt his spirits or prevent him from quoting scripture in or out of season. The anecdote which follows shows the character of the man and would have provoked a smile from Niobe herself:
“Major Bennet was drumming with his heels the flanks of a lazy donkey upon which he was mounted, when three or four women came out of a house immediately before him. Struck by his wretched appearance, the kind-hearted creatures, clasping their hands, uttered their common expression of sympathy, as `Mira! Mira! los Tejanos pobrecitos,' while their lustrous eyes were filled with tears. The major, seeing the effect his woe-begone appearance had created, instantly resolved upon a speech. Seizing his donkey by the ear, and pulling his head around, the common way of stopping the animal, he looked intently into the faces of the poor women who had commiserated him, and raising his other hand as if to impress more forcibly what he was about to say, ejaculated: `Weep not, daughters of Mexico! Your rulers are coming seated on asses!' This slightly-altered quotation from the Scriptures he uttered with a mock gravity truly ludicrous, and then pulling his donkey's head back to its former position, by dint of much kicking forced it into a mincing trot and soon overtook the party. Knowing from his character and the preparation he had made that his speech would be something uncommon, I paused to hear it, but I little thought anything could have forced from me, at that juncture, a laugh as hearty as that which followed the winding up of his address. What the women thought of us, I know not, for, of course, they did not understand a word of what was said.”
When Mr. Kendall was taken to the prison at Santiago, he found himself confronted with the necessity of choosing from among the prisoners a partner to assist him in carrying the heavy chain which was now to decorate one of his ankles. This choice fell upon Major Bennet, of Scripture-quoting memory, one end of his chain being vacant, owing to the sickness of his comrade at that time; but he was especially induced to make this choice because of a sly wink the major gave and a side-speech to the effect that he had a way of ridding himself of the fetters which all the Texans did not possess. So Mr. Kendall, with the major carrying his chain, were conducted into a room where the instruments of servitude were to be fastened on. At the major's whispered suggestion, by slipping a dollar into the palm of the blacksmith, he was given a ring so large that it could be removed after taking off his boot. “This chain was some eight feet long and of the kind used to draw logs with oxen, a `log chain.' Even here the major could not resist the temptation to be facetious at the expense of both, remarking that now we were `bound together by the strongest ties,' and with a gravity which would have become a graven image, he pretended to comfort me by paraphrasing from Job, `That we all have our trials and tribulations,' that `Repining was of little avail,' and `That the time would soon come when all our bonds would be rent asunder.”' In his further account of this dreary confinement in the dungeons of Santiago, Mr. Kendall says: “But of all modes employed to while away the evenings (they were made to work in the sewers during the day) the most common was reading. Conspicuous among this class was my yoke-fellow in chains, Major Bennet, who might have been seen pouring daily over a Bible which had been given him by Mr. Elliott, Chaplain of the United States Exploring Expedition, when in Santiago, on his way from the Pacific to Washington.”
As was stated above, in the Galveston News, the prisoners were released in 1842, and in August of that year the remnant reached Galveston by vessel, from Vera Cruz, and were sent forward to their homes in the interior. Among these Major Bennet arrived at Galveston broken in health and his body in rags. But here he was soon in the arms of his children, Miles S. and his daughter, Sarah, now Mrs. Thomas J. Pilgrim, and who was living in Houston. After a short rest he, with his son, started on horseback for their old home in Gonzales. Here an incident may be mentioned showing how, through all the bitter things which had happened to him, he preserved that sweetness of disposition which characterized him all through life. On the way out from Houston the father and son, being well mounted for the long journey westward, overtook a soldier of the Republic, one whom Major Bennet had known in his department, trudging alone, on foot. He immediately dismounted and insisted that his comrade join their party, walking and riding by turns, and this plan was persisted in, although it greatly impeded their progress, until by some good fortune they secured a mule for the third man, and thus, all three mounted, they arrived at Gonzales. Here the old major was received by his friends who had never expected to greet him again. With indomitable spirit he almost immediately re-entered the army, as, to quote again from the diary of Miles S., “The Mexican advance under General Adrian Woll made it necessary for the frontier men to again organize and retard movements until stronger forces could come to our help. We both engaged in this Woll campaign. Father established a commissariat, procured small supplies of corn for bread, and a few cattle, which he carefully barbecued and issued in small rations to the squads of hastily-equipped men gathering for the fight. I also assisted in driving beeves to the command and participated in the Battle of the Salado, and we both helped pursue the retreating Mexicans away from our settlements. Father immediately received instructions from Headquarters to procure corn, beeves and commissary stores for subsistence of the troops, as public sentiment favored the organization of a Texan force strong enough to carry the war into the Enemy's country. The Somervell campaign ensued, during which father was continued in his position until his death,” which ended a service of nine years' duration.
Major Bennet was of slender build, tall, and in his younger days erect as an Indian; of extremely sensitive disposition, he could not bear the sight of suffering in man or beast, and was never known to willingly allude to the experiences of himself and comrades on the dreadful march to Mexico. Exceedingly amiable in disposition, his appearance among a group of children was greeted by a shout of merriment, and, like Peter Pindar of old, with a plea for “a good long story.” In the fall of 1843 he laid down the cares of this life, and in the cemetery at Gonzales repose the ashes of this old hero, unmarked save by a simple stone erected by his devoted son. His life was one of self-sacrifice, and, so modest and retiring was he, and so loath to speak of his deeds, that, as some one has written of him, “He has not been given that prominence in the history of Texas that worthy patriotism and greatness entitle him to receive. In his administration of the affairs of the quartermaster's department of the Texan army, he exhibited the greatest skill and energy, and when unable to obtain supplies on the credit of the Government, he did not hesitate to use his own means and credit. For many of these expenditures he was never reimbursed by the Republic, and after his death his son, Miles S. Bennet, sacrificed the valuable lands given by the Republic to Major Bennet for military services in order to pay some of the debts made by the latter to obtain food for the Texas soldiers. It is a pathetic picture.”
Although he left but little of worldly goods to his children, theirs was the heritage of a noble and honorable name which they cherished and transmitted untarnished, to their children,
“The place Where shining souls have passed imbibes a grace Beyond mere earth; some sweetness of their fames Leaves in the soil its unextinguished trace, Pungent, pathetic, sad with nobler aims That penetrate our lives, and, heightens them or shames.”
