Vol. IX. JANUARY, 1906. No. 3.
The publication committee and the editors disclaim responsibility for views expressed by contributors to The Quarterly.
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.”
This distinguished but ill-fated young soldier was born in the town of Staunton, in the State of Virginia, on the 31st of January, 1814. He came of that old Scotch-Irish Covenanter stock which has furnished so many heroes for American history in the various struggles for liberty that have taken place upon the soil of this continent, from the wars of colonial times to the present day.
His mother, who gave to him his gentle yet chivalric spirit, was a woman much loved and admired in her day for her strength of character, associated—as it was—with a charming person and engaging manners. She was married in the first place to John Henry' a member of a family ever held in high repute in the Old Dominion, by whom she had two children. One, Dr. Richard Hendricks Henry, of Waynesboro, Va., died on the 13th of December, 1846, leaving a memory behind him as fragrant as that of the “Doctor of the Old School” of Ian MacLaren. John Henry died on the 9th of August, 1800, and some ten years later his widow was sought in marriage by Absalom H. Brooks. From their marriage in 1810, five children were born, towit: Norborne C. Brooks, who for many years was post master of the city of Staunton, and died beloved and lamented; Mary A. Brooks, who was married to Charles Wortham Reins, of Richmond, Va., in 1834, and whose son, John Malcolm Reins, now of Winnepeg, Canada, was one of “the bravest of the brave,” a gallant member of the 5th Virginia Regiment of the famous Stonewall Brigade. Another daughter died unmarried, while a fourth, Miss Henrietta Brooks still survives aged nearly eighty. Her adopted daughter, Josepha Brooks Richardson, a niece of Gen. John E. Roller, of Virginia (a Confederate Veteran), of Col. O. B. Roller (of the 2d Virginia Regular United States Volunteers in the war with Spain), and of the Rev. R. D. Roller, D. D. (rector of the Episcopal church, at Charleston, Kanawha, West Virginia), is the wife of Channing B. Cornell, the nephew of Gov. Alonzo B. Cornell, of New York, and grandson of Ezra Cornell, the founder of Cornell University at Ithaca. The last survivor of the Brooks family makes her home with this adopted child.
The papers and letters printed with this sketch are original documents of historical value. They serve to illustrate an important chapter in the history of Texas, and to show to her sons and daughters for all time, the patriotism and heroism of the men who died that she might be free. The documents are the following:
1.An official copy of the descriptive list of John Sowers Brooks upon his enlistment in the United States Corps of Marines, and showing, also, his promotion in that service.
2.Letter to his brother dated August 12, 1835, and one to his father dated November 4, 1835, announcing his purpose to enlist in the “Rebel Army” of Texas.
3.Letters to James Hagarty, dated July 10, 1835, August 13, 1835, and August 19, 1835, of the same purport.
4.Letters of Captain Brooks to his family from the time of his arrival at Velasco, Texas, about the 23rd of December, 1835, to the time he was disabled by a severe wound in the battle of Coleto, March 14, 1836.
5.Letter of William Christy, dated June 4, 1836, confirming the news of the death of Captain Brooks.
6.Letter of Gen. Sam Houston, dated June 26, 1836, to the same effect.
7.Letter of Capt. Jack Shackleford, of the “Red Rovers,” dated August 5, 1836, to the same effect.
8.Two letters of Dr. Joseph L. Field, dated September 2, 1836, and October 7, 1836, respectively, also giving further particulars.
9.Letter of John D. McLeod, dated January 30, 1837, giving further particulars in regard to his fate.
10.Extracts from the “Staunton Spectator,” upon which paper Captain Brooks was a compositor and to whose columns he frequently contributed. These show the great doubt and uncertainty that existed for some time, among his friends, as to the tragic termination of his life. It is said that his mother, as long as she lived, never did give up the hope that he would some day return, and every year knit new stockings for him with her own hands.
The hope is indulged that the publication of these papers will serve to embalm for future ages, the memory and fame of as chivalric a spirit as ever graced the earth, and of whom, owing to the modesty of his relatives and friends, but little has been known in Texas.
The descriptive list of John S. Brooks, as given by the Hon. John Boyle, Acting Secretary of the Navy, June 12, 1835, is as follows:
JOHN S. BROOKS, A CORPORAL, born in the United States, County of Augusta, State of Virginia, aged nineteen years, five feet, nine inches high, of a sandy complexion, red hair, blue eyes, and by trade or occupation, a farmer, was enlisted at Charlestown, Mass, by Bvt. Lt. Col. Freeman, on the 19th day of September, 1834, for four years.
REMARKS.
Promoted Corpl. 25th Feb. 1835. Now on board Frigate Constitution.
P. G. Holle, Adjt. and Insp. Head Quarters of the Marine Corps. Adjutant and Inspector's Office. Washington, 12th June, 1835.
Marine Barracks, Brooklyn, Aug. 12th/35.
My Dear Brother:—I received your letter of the 5th inst. to-day and hasten to answer it immediately; and I do it with the greatest pleasure, as I have tidings to communicate which will, doubtless, be very acceptable to Father—for he will be spared some trouble and anxiety, which I understand he is about to take in procuring my discharge. Any further application for that purpose will be supererogatory. Soon after the date of my last letter, I wrote to Col. Henderson, Commandant of Marines, and in as neat and handsome a manner as was possible in the present disordered condition of my intellects, requested my discharge from the Corps, which he has the honor to command. I referred to several reasons as the grounds of my application, among which was my ill-health, and general dissatisfaction with the service. A reply has been received, by which I am informed that I am to be discharged. As a necessary preparatory measure, my clothing returns, and other accounts, will be transmitted to Head Quarters, and as soon as they can be adjusted, my discharge will be forwarded to this station, and I will be released from the service. This will probably require ten or twelve days—and possibly longer. A soldier, specially discharged, as is the case with myself, is required to pay for all the clothing he has received from the Government; but the pay now due me will be sufficient for that purpose. However, if it should not, I will remain in the service until I am able to leave it in an honorable manner. My pay is nine dollars per month; and a little frugality will soon enable me to discharge my arrears, should there be any, which I very much doubt.
Although I have procured my discharge, and feel all that pleasure that naturally arises from the consciousness of being released from a galling bondage, yet I cannot avoid entertaining the melancholy conviction that my prospects are as gloomy and uncertain as ever. What shall I do? I have forgotten nearly all the little knowledge which I acquired at the Printing Business. I cannot labor,—I will not beg,—and have no idea of starving. I have now been near eleven months in the United States service, and profess to have some knowledge of company and battalion drill. Indeed they are the only things I ever acquired with anything like ordinary facility; and my habits, from actual service, and a predisposition for that mode of life, have acquired so much of a military cast, as to render me almost unfit for any other occupation. There is a strong probability of a rupture between the Mexican Government and the Province of Texas. The people of the latter have established a provisional government, which step, I presume, will be followed by a declaration of independence. The Mexicans have embodied troops, which are now marching upon the colonists. Col. Austin is a prisoner in the City of Mexico; and I can preceive nothing in the aspect of their affairs to prevent the contest, which this state of things predicts. There is then some hope, of my finding active employment in a military capacity there; and from my knowledge of the American system of tactics, and the necessarily disorganized condition of any forces which the Province can embody, it will not be difficult, I think, to attain a more elevated station than that I now occupy. My services as a drill master would be valuable; and in the event of a war, I am sanguine enough to believe that I will soon entitle myself to a commission. I infer from your letter, that I cannot obtain appointment in the Navy and I can conceive of no other resource in my present condition. I will therefore probably go to Texas.
In reply to your inquiry, I will say that I received $10 from Mr. Hagarty, which, he informs me, was from Father. I neglected, but not through ingratitude, to return my thanks for this opportune donation. Father will pardon my forgetfulness, when he recollects my confusion and distress of mind.
When Mr. Hagarty visited me, as I have before informed you, he told me to write to him, and apprize him of my situation and my wishes relative to it. I complied with his request promptly, writing to him the next day, as the earliest opportunity. I have not heard from him since. I will embrace the first chance of telling him that I have procured my discharge.
Give to the gentlemen, who have so generously interested themselves in my behalf, my sincerest thanks and best wishes for their prosperity and happiness. It is my duty, and it will be my highest gratification, to acknowledge their kindnesses individually, by letter, as soon as I possibly can. I have but a few moments of time each day to myself. There are but three Corporals on the station, and so many recruits to drill, that their time is entirely occupied by duty.
Tell Mother I will write to her in a day or two, when I will comply with her request in relation to Mr. Heiskell. His kindness has made a deep impression on my heart, and not the less so because his generous exertions in my favor, were not crowned with success. I can never forget it; and if my prayers will avail, he will live long and happily in this world, of which I am so weary. Tell R. Williamson and L. T. M. Fackler to write to me. I will expect letters to [sic.] them. I have been looking for a letter from Mary Ann, and also from Father. How is Richard and his family? Remember me to all who inquire for me. Give my love to all the family. I will answer your enquiries as to where I have been et cetera, in my next letter. Excuse this, as I have no time to read it over.
It is almost Tattoo—I have been very much hurried in writing this letter, and have scarcely time to fold it. I have much to say, which I am compelled to defer to another opportunity.
Your brother, John Sowers Brooks. (Post Marked, Brooklyn, N. Y. Aug. 13. Addressed, Norborne C. Brooks, Staunton, Augusta County, Virginia).
New York, Nov. 4, 1835.
My Dear Father:—Ere this letter shall have reached you, I will be once more on the billows of the Atlantic. To-morrow morning, I embark on board the schooner America, bound for the port of Brazoria, for the purpose of volunteering in the “Rebel Army” of Texas. I have not taken this important step, my dear Father, without the most anxious and deliberate reflection upon the probable consequences. Experience has taught me the dangers of the sea, and particularly the Gulf of Mexico, in light vessels; and I am not blind to the possibility that exists of our being captured by a Mexican man-of-war, or Revenue Cutter,—and consequently of finding my military ardor circumscribed to the sphere of one of their prison-walls, instead of the wide field of a Texian Campaign. I know the hardships, privations, and dangers a soldier must incur; and I well know too, from personal observation, that the effect upon the character and disposition of a long habituation to the rules of military life and the customs of war, is more to be dreaded than even the peril of “life and limb.” I have given all these circumstances my calmest consideration, and the result is a determination to volunteer in defence of the holy rights for which Texas is now contending. If I have erred, it is surely an error for which the heart of every American will suggest an apology; and I trust, my dear Father, that you will not view my conduct with that displeasure which a superficial or hasty glance at the reasons which have impelled me to it, might perhaps excite.
I have neither talent nor inclination for business; and you know that my habit of thought and my education have strongly predisposed me for a military life. It has always been my desire to enter the Navy, Army or Marine Corps of the United States. That wish has hitherto been frustrated; and there seems now no probability, however remote, that it can be effected. Texas opens a wide and variegated field to the ambition and enterprise of the soldier of fortune. But I have no hope of distinction there—for I cannot believe that the evil fortune which has so long pursued me will not still assert its claim to control my wayward destiny. I trust I have a holier motive than mere ambition, for abandoning my native country and the pleasures of social life, to encounter the dangers and turmoils of war in a foreign land. There is something in the cause of the Texanians that comes home to the heart of every true American. Its near similarity to the glorious struggle of our own ancestors in “Seventy-six” must produce a sympathy for them in every part of the Union, which will result in something more than mere kind wishes, for their success. I hope and believe that there are many of the youths of our country who have inherited enough of the spirit of their fore-fathers to induce them to procure, like myself, a musket and a hundred rounds of ball cartridge, and join the holy crusade against priestly tyranny and military despotism.
I feel a deep and abiding interest in the success of Texas and her people. They are our own countrymen, who have been seduced from their native soil to settle in a distant land, under the most solemn assurances of protection and support. Those assurances are now to be violated and revoked, even at the expense of the plighted faith of a nation, and they are to be driven from the soil which they have made their own, by the “sweat of the brow.” Their Republican form of Government, their local Legislature, their Municipal Law, and their sovereignty and distinction as a State, or integral and component part of a Federal Republic, is to be destroyed at one ruthless blow. Will America permit it?
Our vessel will lay-off the mouth of the Mississippi for intelligence. If we find the coast in the hands of the Mexicans, or strictly blockaded by their Cutters, we will proceed to New Orleans, and I will make my way by land to the interior of Texas. If, however, there should be a possibility of eluding their vigilance we will move at once into Brazoria, where we will be safe. If some of the family should write immediately upon the receipt of this, it is possible that I will get the letter in New Orleans. If I go there, I will wait a day or two for that purpose.
The Schooner mounts a nine-pounder, on a pivot, and the crew are provided with small arms. I have a musket and a hundred ball cartridges.
Give my love to Mother and all the family.
Your affectionate son, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. And now, My dear Father, if you should never see me again, for the fate of battles is uncertain, and it may be my lot to fall in a foreign land, I hope you will forget all my errors and follies, and believe, as I assure you, that I have never for a moment forgotten your kindness or affection or that of my dear Mother. Often have I sighed to see you all before I go—but that cannot be—and when I reflect how possible it is, that I may never see you again in this world, I love you with an affection so intense that it almost breaks my heart. But—Farewell—I hope not forever. Brooks. My health is very good—I take this step unknown to any one and without advice or permission. Mr. Hagarty has not seen me for some days, and does not know where I am. I will leave a note behind for him.—Brooks. Tell Norborne and Mary Ann to write to me, and Hannah and Henrietta might add postscripts. If A. St. C. Boys is in Staunton, tell N. to ask him to write to me. Direct, Brazoria, Austin's Colony, Texas. Brooks. (Post-marked New York, Nov. 4. Addressed, Mr. A. H. Brooks, Staunton, Augusta Co., Virginia.)
Marine Barracks, Brooklyn, July 30, 1835. To James Hagarty, Esq.
Dear Sir:—Although I did not express the gratitude which your visit yesterday excited in my bosom, yet believe me, I appreciate most fully the kindly feelings that must have prompted it. That you have taken an interest in the wayward destinies of an unhappy wanderer, as deep as that you have manifested towards me, is but another claim to my admiring esteem, and will serve to fix more indelibly on my heart the impression which your kindness has already made upon it. It may have occurred to you, that I have made but a poor return for your benevolence, and that my thanks were but coldly and slightly expressed. But, sir, there is an apology for me, to which I deem it due to myself to advert. While I am endowed with the faculty of writing with tolerable facility, I am denied even the ordinary colloquial powers, and find it extremely embarrassing to maintain a conversation on the most common topic. This defect I am conscious arises more from a kind of timidity, which I have in vain endeavored to overcome, than from absolute absence of words. But, although I do not evince that voluble gratitude we so often see, yet I feel as deeply, and perhaps more deeply, than those who resort to that method of requiting their obligations.
You desire to know my wishes with regard to my future course. I will tell you frankly—for your noble-hearted generosity to me demands, and shall receive, the most explicit answer I am capable of making. My situation in the Marine Corps is as disagreeable as it can possibly be. The men who compose it; and with whom I must necessarily associate in a certain degree, possess habits, passions, and feelings with which I can never sympathize. Indeed I was alone even on the crowded decks of a man-of-war and felt as desolate as I could have possibly done in the midst of the dreary Sahara of Africa or the boundless forests of Oregon. I have not one feeling in common with most of them, and consequently can receive no pleasure from their society. My life is perfectly miserable; and can it be wondered, if I desire, most anxiously desire, to be released from my bondage? It is now the main purpose of my life, the darling object of my pursuit, to obtain my discharge, and apply myself to some honest and honorable avocation. My attention was, for a short time, turned to the art of composing, and I had arrived to a tolerable proficiency, when I was compelled to abandon it from an apprehension of injury to my health. I am willing, however, to resume it, and to incur any risk, rather than remain in my present degraded situation. I submit myself entirely to your guidance. Whatever pursuit you point me to, I will unhesitatingly adopt. It is true, I have my preferences; but my conduct has not been such as to entitle me to indulge them. If I can only be released, and find some honorable employment which will afford me an opportunity of rendering myself again worthy of the affection of my parents and other relatives, my ambition shall be satisfied. I am aware of the difficulties in my path; but I think I have energy and perseverance sufficient to surmount them. My hand writing is not as good as it has formerly been. It has been long since I have exercised it; and it is not always possible for a soldier to procure the best materials.
I received a letter from my father, on yesterday which I immediately answered. In it he referred to the expressions which Col. Peyton and Messrs Kinney and Michie are making in my behalf.
A warrant in the Navy, or a commission in the Marine Corps, would either of them be a desirable position for me. But I fear that neither can be procured now. My proclivity, if I have ever developed any, is decidedly military. I conceive it to be the only pursuit for which I am at all calculated. But, although I may not possess natural talent for business, I think that stern and untiring application will avail to [over] come the abstacles which are likely to obstruct my progress. At all events, I am willing to exert every power, both mental and physical; with which I am endowed to make myself useful and respectable, to regain my self-esteem, and to elicit the approbation of my friends. Permit me to thank you—for the interest which you have taken in my behalf. Your kindness has made an impression, deep and abiding on my heart, so that time can not efface it. But I will not weary you with my professions of gratitude—a feeling which is better evinced by deeds.
Any notice of this hasty scrawl will be gratefully received.
Most respectfully, John Sowers Brooks. (Post-marked New York, July 31.)
U. S. M. Brks. Brooklyn, August 13th, 1835. To James Hagarty, Esq.
Dear Sir:—I received yesterday a letter from my brother, in which he informed me that application was about to be made for my discharge; and that you had generously expressed a determination to interest yourself in procuring it. It gives me pleasure to tell you, that any further exertion with that view will be entirely supererogatory. Encouraged by the success of others in numerous instances, and the well-known kindness of the Commandant of Marines, I wrote to him soon after your visit to me; and in as handsome a manner as the disordered condition of my intellects would permit, requested my discharge from the Corps. I referred to several reasons as the grounds of my application,—among which, the most prominent were, the fact of my minority at the period of my enlistment, my ill-health and general dissatisfaction with the service. A reply was received, by which I was apprised that the Colonel had acceded to my request. As a necessary preparatory measure, my clothing, returns, and other accounts, will be transmitted to Head Quarters, and as soon as they can be adjusted, my discharge will be forwarded to this station, and I will thus be released from the most servile bondage. A soldier specially discharged, as will be the case with myself, is required to pay for all the clothing he has received from the Government. The pay due me, added to a small sum which I now possess, will be sufficient to accomplish this purpose. If, however, it should not, I will remain a short time longer, in order that I may be enabled to leave the service in an honorable manner.
I wrote to you, according to promise, stating my anxiety to be released, and to pursue any honorable avocation for which my habits and education might most adapt me. That letter was directed to No. 26, Broad Street, and sent to the Post Office in New York. I presume you have received it.
Pardon this hasty scrawl. I have had but a few moments to devote to it.
Your obliged Sev't. John Sowers Brooks. (Addressed James Hagarty, Esq., 26 Broad St., New York.)
Brooklyn, August 19, 1835. To James Hagarty, Esq.,
Dear Sir:—I was yesterday favored with my discharge from the United States Marine Corps, and am now free from the obligation which my oath of enlistment imposed. While I must acknowledge the extreme gratification I derive from the consciousness of being once more free and unshackled, yet I cannot forbear entertaining the melancholy conviction that my prospects are as gloomy as ever. My ingenuity can suggest no scheme, likely to be successful in its results, to which I may resort for the purpose of procuring an honest subsistence. I acquired but an imperfect knowledge of the art of printing; and it has now been so long since I exercised even that little knowledge, that I fear it will be deemed presumption in me to enquire for employment as a compositor. But whatever may be the struggles to which I am doomed, I shall ever feel gratified for having escaped the miseries of four years' servitude in the Marine Corps; and I shall never forget the benevolent kindness which prompted you to interest yourself in the behalf of a poor, wayward boy. I cannot but think that honest exertion will be followed by its appropriate reward, and that persevering industry will finally conduct me to a reasonable position in society. It is this consideration that gives me courage, and induces me to hope even amidst the circumstances of gloom by which I am surrounded. It does not seem to me that my lot has been a hard one. While I have ever cherished the most glowing ambition to attain a situation of respectability, untoward accidents have always restrained my advance and prostrated me even lower than my gloomiest forbodings could anticipate. It is true, I must confess, that a candid and careful investigation of my misfortunes, has led me to the humiliating conviction, that my own faults and follies were their chief causes. And, while I make this admission, so derogatory to myself, it becomes me, in justice to my own feelings, to say, that there were circumstances which I could not control, that exercised no inconsiderable degree of influence over my unhappy career. It would be painful for me to advert to these circumstances, and, as they have long since ceased to possess the influence which they once exerted, I permit myself to hope that you will not require a more comprehensible allusion to them.
Since your visit to me I have written to you twice. My first letter was a compliance with your request for a full disclosure of my situation, and my wishes relating to it. The second was in relation to my discharge. I informed you that I had applied to the Commandant of Marines, enclosing him a Surgeon's Certificate of my ill-health, and that he had consented to discharge me on the usual conditions of a special discharge. Since the date of that letter my discharge has arrived, and was handed to me yesterday, after a settlement of my accounts. Not having been a year in the service and having drawn a years' clothing, I consequently had much of to pay for. The pay due me from Government, with a small sum which I possessed, was sufficient for this, leaving me twelve dollars which is all I now possess in the world. I left the Barracks this morning, and have procured cheap boarding at a respectable house, as far as I can see, in Brooklyn. I will remain here until I see what will be best for me to do. A few days, however, must determine. What do you think of Texas? Is there not some prospect in that country, in its present unsettled state, for one who has some knowledge of the American system of tactics. I respectfully solicit your advice, and shall be guided entirely by it.
Yours respectfully, John Sowers Brooks. Mr. James Hagarty, No. 26 Broad Street.
Letter to A. H. Brooks, Staunton, Va.
Velasco, Texas, 23rd December, 1835. My dear father:—
The die is cast. I am over the Rubicon and my fate is now inseparably connected with that of Texas. I have resolved to stand by her to the last and in a word, to sink or swim with her. Permit me to entreat you to suffer no unnecessary uneasiness about my situation. From what I have learned since my arrival here, I do not consider the service extraordinarily dangerous. We have to contend with a mercenary foe who has no other inducement to fight than the hope of gain, and who is moreover, taught from his infancy, to dread the very name of a North American. San Antonio de Bexar has been carried by assault and Gen. Cos and six or seven hundred of his men are now prisoners to the gallant Texians, who so nobly sustained the honor of their country on that occasion. Several other engagements have occurred in all of which, the invincible Yankees triumphed and invariably with inconsiderable loss. There is now not a single Mexican soldier within the borders of Texas, exclusive of prisoners. The people have organized a provisional government and appointed a Governor, Lieut Governor and Legislative Council, with the other requisite functionaries. Their authority is to cease in March next when the General Consultation of all Texas is to meet and constitute some more permanent form of Government. All is confusion,—but many warm hearts and wise heads are energetically engaged in reducing this chaos to order and we hope ere long, to see Texas enjoying all the advantages and blessings of a firm and stable administration of such laws as the wisdom of her rulers may suggest. She is now a disjointed fragment of the Republic of Mexico, and the blood of thousands will be shed, ere the haughty tyrant of that worse than despotism, again rivets his chains upon free born Americans.
I have been appointed Adjutant of a Regiment with the assurance that the Commission of Lieutenant and Adjutant will be issued to me in a few days. In order to make this respectable situation secure to me, I hope my dear Father, you will make a little exertion and procure me the recommendations of Gen Baldwin, Col. Peyton, Wm. Kinney, Esq., Erasmus Stribling, Thos. J. Michie, Dr. Boys and Alex H. H. Stuart, Esqrs. and such other prominent gentlemen of Staunton as may be disposed to favor me with their testimonials of my character. Their letters may be directed to Gen. Houston or to Col. Fannin in Velasco, Texas, or to myself on an envelope containing their address. The letters must be postpaid in Staunton to New Orleans by you or they will never reach here and you had better write a request on the outside to the Post Master in the latter place, to forward them to Velasco without delay. It would be a great advancement of my interests if you would not lose a moment in complying with the above request.
I am at present stationed at Velasco, a small town at the mouth of the Rio Brazos de Dios. There are about 250 men assembled here and tomorrow I commence the tedious duty of drilling recruits. As soon as we are organized, and reach something like a state of discipline, it is contemplated to reinforce us and then detach us to attack the city of Metamoras in the State of Tamaulipas. This will be the commencement of a regular and systematic invasion of Mexico and I trust I shall live to see it end beneath the walls of the Capitol of Santa Anna's iron ruled dominions, that we will ultimately succeed, I can not entertain a doubt. I know too well the materials of which our army is composed to think for a moment that they will flinch in the hour of peril. We are all animated by one spirit, defiance to tyrants—and our watch word is “Texas and Glory.” Our war cry is Liberty or Death. We must triumph. I can not, I will not believe otherwise. Tell Mother to feel no alarm on my account. Tell her to reflect that I am in the hands of an all wise being and the God of Battles will dispense to me whatever fate he may deem my due, and be assured, my dear father, and my dear mother, that I will never disgrace either the name of a soldier or that of a Virginian. You shall never blush for your wayward boy's conduct on the field of battle.
I forgot to tell you that I arrived here the 20th of this month. The vessel in which I sailed from New York, the Schooner, America, was wrecked away on the Brazos Bar, and we escaped from the wreck in an open boat with the utmost difficulty to another vessel that lay securely outside the tremendous breakers which dash along the coast in a gale of wind from the North. As soon as the vessel struck and began to fill, the sailors seized upon the liquors and soon became intoxicated and by threats and violence, only, could we force them into the boat. I shall never forget that long weary night of terror and dismay, but I will give you the particulars in a future letter. We were a month and ten days on the passage out and saw 80 whales. I have kept a journal since the 10th of Nov. with the exception of the last three days. I was compelled to leave most of my baggage aboard the wreck and if you could spare me a few dollars, it would be of great service to me. I will soon be in a condition to return it. We get 1100 acres of land as citizens, 600 for our services during the war, besides the pay, clothing and rations of a soldier.
Give my love to Norborne, Mary Ann, Hannah, and Henrietta, and to Richard and his family and tell them all to write to me. Be sure and get the letters of recommendation without delay. Good night.
Ever your affectionate son, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. Perhaps some of the items of intelligence contained in this letter, would be new to the readers of the Spectator, and you better give Mr. Harper a summary of them. Mr. Patterson's letter to Dr. Archer was received, and did me much service here. I feel greatly his debtor in gratitude for the favor so kindly conferred. I am in very good health and weigh much more than I did when I left home. If Allan St. C. Boys, R. Williamson and Lt. M. Fackler are in Staunton, tell them to write to me. I write in the midst of the noise and confusion of a camp and have no time to read this over. Brooks. (Mailed Velasco, 23d December, 1835. Post-marked New Or- leans, Jan. 3.)
Letter to Miss Mary Ann Brooks, Staunton, Va.
Camp Independence, near Velasco, Texas, Jan. 8th, 1836. My dear Sister,
I have just been informed that a vessel is about to sail from Velasco to New Orleans. I have but a moment to inform you that I am at present stationed at Camp Independence, three miles from the mouth of the Rio Brazos. I have the situation of Adjutant to about 200 volunteers, denominated the “Georgia Battalion of Permanent Volunteers.” My duties here are arduous in the extreme. They are all perfectly raw. The laborious task of drilling all the officers from the major to the junior corporal in the elementary school of the soldier devolves upon Mr. Chadwick, Seregant Major and myself. It is nothing but drill every day until I have become completely sick of it.
We expect to take up the line of march for Goliad towards the Mexican frontier on Monday, next, for the purpose of forming a junction with the main army under Gen. Houston and then going into the winter quarters. No expedition of importance is intended this winter. Our time will be chiefly employed in organizing and disciplining the army. It is however, proposed to attack the City of Metamoras with the Georgia Battalion, to which I am attached. If we succeed in taking it, my next letter will be dated from that place.
You have perhaps heard of the expedition to Tampico under Gen. Mexia, who formerly distinguished himself in the Mexican service, but became dissatisfied and joined the Texians. They were compelled to retreat from the want of amunition with the loss of 50 prisoners and we have just learned that they have all been shot by order of the Mexican authorities. This act of wanton barbarity will only bring so many more bayonets into the field against them. We have resolved to show them no quarter, should the chances of battle place them in our power.
It is said that Santa Ana is mustering 10,000 troops for the invasion of Texas, and that 1000 infantry and 500 cavalry are now on their way towards our frontier, breathing imprecations against all Americans, but particularly the Volunteers. They have hoisted a black flag as an indication that they will show no quarter. So much the better for us. We will not be burdened with prisoners.
It is apparent that there are two parties in this Country who indulge all the virulence of party spirit. One party is strongly in favor of an immediate Declaration of Independence and the other desires a non-politic course. They think that a declaration for the Constitution of 1824 will unite the Liberal party in Mexico with them and thus enable them to establish their independence ultimately with greater ease. There is undoubtedly policy in this course but it is such an one as I would not like to adopt. I am in favor of pursuing an open, bold and fearless course, such as a Virginian would feel it due to his character to pursue. An immediate Declaration of Independence would insure us the aid of every Liberal in the United States, either in men or money, and this temporizing policy, this fighting under the bush, I do not like. Our enemy is not invincible, our cause is good and at the worst, we can but die in defense of this little altar which we have erected to Liberty in the wilds of Texas. My heart is in this struggle. Every feeling and every sympathy, I possess, is enlisted in the cause and I feel that I can die, if necessary for its advancement, but I hope I shall live to see the termination of the war and to hear the terms of peace dictated by our victorious army from the Congress Hall of the City of Mexico.
In my letter to Father, dated Velasco, I gave some account of my disastrous voyage to Texas and ship wreck on the bar of the Rio Brazos de Dios. I suppose you received that letter, and it is therefore unnecessary for me to recapitulate.
In conclusion, permit me to return through you to father and Mother, my sincerest thanks for their kindness to their erring child. If I die, remember me with kindness cherish every recollection that can atone for my errors, forgive my faults, forget my follies, breathe a sigh, and shed a tear to the memory of your unhappy brother, and believe that he will die as a soldier and a Virginian should, fearing nothing caring nothing.
Give my love to all the family.
Ever your brother, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. Direct your letters to me to the care of Messrs. McKinney and Williams, Quintana, Mouth of the Brazos and they will forward them. I enclose you a Texas paper of a late date. Send me some Staunton papers. Jno. S. Brooks. Write immediately. I have not heard from home since I left New York. (Mailed—Camp Independence, near Velasco, Jan. 8th, 1836. Post-marked—New Orleans Jan 29.)
Letter to A. H. Brooks, Staunton, Va.
Camp Fannin, at Velasco, Texas, January 20th, 1836. My dear father:-
The “Georgia Battalion of Permanent Volunteers,” to which I am attached in the capacity of Adjutant will embark tomorrow morning on some vessels lying in the mouth of the Brazos and proceed to Copeno lower down the coast for the purpose of forming a junction with 6 or 700 other troops and then taking up the line of march for the invasion of Mexico. The expedition will consist of 1000 men and will be commanded by Gen. Houston or Col. Fannin. The first point of attack will be the City of Metamoras. It contains a population of from 15 to 20,000, (about one twentieth of whom are Americans) and is said to be wealthy and stored with public property to a vast amount. Two thirds of the inhabitants have manifested a preference for the “Liberals,” as we are called, and consequently are opposed to the misrule of Santa Ana and will probably aid our enterprise. Various rumors have reached us with regard to the state of preparation in Metamoras. It is said the City is well fortified and garrisoned with 4000 regulars. Another rumor leaves it almost defenceless and a third fixes its garrison at 1100 men. We will take with us only a small part of artillery and will be altogether unprepared to operate as a besieging army and therefore, if we find the first rumor correct, we will endeavor to force an entrance by assault and retreat if we fail.
The objects of this expedition appear to me to be not a systematic invasion of Mexico, but primarily to give employment to the Volunteers and lastly to secure if practicable, a foot hold in Mexico, to carry the war out of Texas and to sustain ourselves upon the enemies means until a more formidable and better concerted plan of invasion can be arranged. We are all enthusiastic in the cause and if ceaseless perseverance and indomitable courage can prevail, my fond hope of our success must be realized. Yet it is sad to think that there are some among us with hearts now beating high with expectation who will then hear the merry sound of their last reveilé. I may be one of that hapless number. I hope not, but if such is my fate, I will submit, without a murmur.
You would perhaps like to know some thing of the policies and present positions of parties in this country, for the wild malignant demon of party spirit has appeared here in its most virulent form. There are two parties—one of which is warmly in favor of a secession from Mexico, and a Declaration of Independence by the Convention which is to assemble in March. One portion of this party entertained the project of entering your Confederacy as an integral member of the Union. Another part, are desirous of selling the Country to the United States and thus enjoy the privileges of a free government, as a Territory without the expense until an increase of population and wealth has given them consequence sufficient to justify the assumption of a more exalted and responsible attitude as a constituent of the Federal Government. And a third portion are clamorous for the establishment of a separate and independent sovereignty. They argue with great plausibility that this course will produce confidence abroad and secure us aid in men and money which could not otherwise be obtained. They say that if we succeed in maintaining an attitude of independence, the country will be populated with a rapidity unprecedented in the annals of emigration and that then her prosperity will essentially depend upon a free, unshackeled commercial intercourse with foreign nations and a full development of her own resources which would be impossible as a component part or territory of the United States. These three divisions of the first and I believe the most numerous party all concur however, in the opinion that a Declaration of Independence is a necessary preliminary to the furtherance of either of their particular designs. The second and smallest party which is composed of the grantees of land and extensive land speculators are opposed to a Declaration of Independence and to all the views of the other party. They desire a reestablishment of the Constitution of Mexico of 1824 and assert their intention to adhere to the Mexican Confederacy under that form of government which recognizes the sovereignty of Texas as a member of the Republic and gives her a local Legislature and they contend a code of municipal law suited to the education, habits and pursuits of the people. But this party seems to be actuated by a different motive than that which they profess. Their extensive speculations in lands have acquired them an influence in the Mexican councils which it is said, they have exerted to their own aggrandizement and to the detriment of the interests of the settlers. Their influence with the prominent Mexicans enables them to govern the Colony as they desire. It is also said that they have acquired fraudulent titles to alnd which can not withstand the investigation which the Government of Texas will institute when established and these are the reasons which induce them to advocate so warmly the restoration of the Constitution of 1824 and to oppose so violently a Declaration of Independence.
I may be mistaken in the above views of the state of parties here. My residence in the Country has been brief and I have seen but few of the leading men and therefore would not have you to look upon them as infallible.
We have just heard that the General Council have deposed the Governor and delegated to the Lieutenant Governor authority to act in that capacity. The particulars have not reached us. We have been aware for several days, of the existence of dissention between the Executive and the Legislature but have yet received no accurate intelligence of the cause. The General Council I believe have assumed the control of affairs denying the Governor's authority to act while the Governor contends that the Council has become a nullity by his decree of dissolution and consequently incompetent to discharge the functions of a Legislature, and thus we are left at this critical juncture in uncertainty and doubt as to the existence as to any legal and responsible authority or acknowledged source of power.
I beg you will excuse this hasty and imperfect sketch of the condition of parties in Texas. I write amid the noise and confusion of a camp sitting on the ground and holding the paper on my knee.
Give my love to mother, to Norborne, to Mary Ann, to Hannah, and to Henrietta and to Richard and his family. Tell them to write to me and direct to Quintana, Mouth of the Brazos, Texas, to the care of Messrs. McKinney and Williams.
Affectionately, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. Tell mother I still possess the Bible she gave me when I left home and that I read it some times. My time is employed day and night in the organization and drilling of the troops. There is but one other professional soldier in the Battallion, besides myself, Sergeant Major Chadwick, from West Point. I have become habituated to sleeping on the ground with one blanket and feel no inconvenience from it. Brooks. I have no room for all the intelligence I am desirous of communicating. If I have another opportunity of writing, I will tell you some thing of the agricultural conditions of the Country. Brooks. My health is better than it has been of late. I weigh more now than I have at any former period of my life and I have frequently got up in the morning perfectly drenched in rain and leaving my full print in the mud where I had reposed. Brooks. If we accomplish the capture of Metamoras, as I believe we shall, our next object will be the City of Tampico where there is said to be a considerable party in our favor. You have heard of the attack upon that place by Gen. Mexia and the result. All the Americans who were taken were shot. I have not had a letter from home since I landed in Texas. If you write and neglect to pay the postage to New Orleans, they will never go any further. If we succeed in taking Metamoras as I believe we shall, and I survive the attack, I will write immediately and give you the particulars. If I fall, of course, —. (Mailed Velasco, Texas, Jan. 20th, 1836. Post Marked New Orleans, Feb. 8th, 1836.)
Letter to Miss Mary Ann Brooks.
Fort Defiance, Goliad, Texas, Feb. 25th, 1836.
My dear Sister:—From the hurry of a preparation to march, I have stolen a moment to write to you. An express from San Antonio de Bexar received here a few moments since, with intelligence that the Mexican Army under Santa Ana, were in sight of that place and preparing to attack it. He heard the firing of cannon after he had gained some distance towards us. He estimated their strength at from three to five thousand men. Bexar has a garrison of 156. They have retired to the Alamo, determined to hold out to the last and have solicited reinforcements from us. We have 420 men here, and have been engaged in repairing the Fort, and mounting artillery. Commanding Officer, in the field, Gen. Fannin, has made Goliad his Head Quarters, from the conviction of its importance, as being advantageously located for a depot of reinforcements, clothing, provisions and military stores. It commands the sea coast particularly, Aransas and Matagorda Bays,—and consequently the only convenient landings for vessels of any tonnage. The only troops in the field at this time are volunteers from the United States, and they probably do not exceed 800, and perhaps but one third of them are near the scene of action. He was therefore compelled to remain in this place in order to prepare it as a depot, and to forward provisions, et cetra. From the want of cavalry, we have been unable to obtain any accurate information of the enemy's movements. Thus Bexar has been left exposed and the Mexicans availing themselves of the advantages thus unavoidably offered them, have marched against it with all their force. With a forlorne hope of 320 men, we will start tonight or tomorrow morning at the dawn of day in order to relieve the gallant little garrison, who have so nobly resolved to sustain themselves until our arrival. Our force is small compared with that of the enemy. It is a desperate resort, but we hope the God of Battles will be with us—that victory will again perch on the bright little banner of Texian liberty and that the civic militia, now aroused to a sense of their danger and the proximity of their implacable and mercenary foe, will appear in their strength, that the young lion will arise in the majesty of his untried strength and our youthful Republic make herself worthy of the high destiny at which she aims. If by forced marches we can reach Bexar, a distance of more than a hundred miles, and cut our way through the enemy's lines to our friends in the Fort, our united force thus advantageously posted, may perhaps be sufficient to hold out until the militia can be collected to reinforce us. If the militia do not rendovous promptly, I apprehend much. But the sin be upon their own heads. We have resolved to do our duty and to perish under the walls of the Alamo, if stern necessity requires it. We are but poorly prepared to meet the formidable host of Mexicans, arrayed against us.
I am now acting aid-de-camp to the Commander in chief, having resigned my appointment of the Adjutancy to the 1st Regiment. I have also been acting as chief engineer to the post and but for this occurrence, would have had it in a tolerable state of defense in a short time. The ordnance and Magazine were also placed under my charge. From this circumstance, you will readily and rationally infer, that there are but few professional soldiers here, when one of my age with but few months experience has so many important trusts confided to him. My duties have been arduous in the extreme, having besides the above appointments, frequently to drill the Regiment and companies, and this must be my excuse for not having written home as often as I might have done otherwise. By the way, I have not heard from home either by letter or otherwise since I left New York. Why have you not written?
And now my dear sister, I would ask you to look upon my situation in its proper light, and to indulge in no unnecessary fears. I am a soldier both morrally and physically. Death is one of the chances of the game I play and if it falls to my lot, I shall not murmur, and you should not regret. I shall write to you as soon as some thing decissive occurs. We shall probably be attacked by the Mexicans on our way to Bexar, and if I should die, my services will entitle me to 1800 or more acres of land which will be valuable. It will revert to my representatives, and father should claim it. Tell him I owe Mr. Hagerty in N. Y. and a portion of it can be applied to the discharge of that debt.
We will take with us, four pieces of artillery, two sixes and two fours.—Now is the time for the people of the U. S. to do some thing for Texas. Can nothing be done in Staunton?
Give my love to all the family, tell mother to remember me, and tell them all to write to me. They are calling for me now. In the greatest haste, Ever your brother,
John Sowers Brooks. (No post mark.)
Letter to A. H. Brooks.
Fort Defiance, Goliad, Texas, Feb. 25th, 1836, 10 P. M. My dear Father:—
I wrote to Mary Ann today, and as the Express does not leave before reveille tomorrow, I thought that I might profitably employ the few moments I have obtained in writing to you, for it is possible I may never have another opportunity.
In my letter, I gave a hasty detail of our intended movements and the causes which produced them and I would refer you to it, if it has reached its destination.
From information received since the letter above referred to, was written, we are induced to believe that the Mexican force at and near San Antonio de Bexar does not exceed 3000. The Garrison which has been withdrawn from the town to the Alamo, a Fort in the suburbs, consists in 156 effective men. They are resolute and have determined to die in the ditch rather than dishonor themselves, the cause they have espoused, or the Country they represent.
We will march at the dawn of day tomorrow with 320 men, and 4 pieces of artillery,—2 sixes and 2 fours. We have no provisions scarcely, and many of us are naked and entirely destitute of shoes. But something must be done to relieve our Country. We have suffered much and may reasonably anticipate much greater suffering. But if we succeed in reaching Bexar, before the Garrison is compelled to surrender and are successful in taking the place and its gallant defenders, we shall deem ourselves amply repaid for our trials and hardships. But if we fail, I fear that our misfortunes will have an unhappy influence in prolonging the struggle in which poor Texas is engaged. We will leave a Garrison of 100 men with the hope that a portion of the Civic Militia who are embodying will be ordered here, and the remainder sent to reinforce us. If we are successful, it will prove a check to the Mexican army from which it will not readily recover and which will ever after have a salutary influence upon our cause. But my dear Father, I frankly confess that without the interposition of Providence, we can not rationally anticipate any other result to our Quixotic expedition than total defeat. If the Militia assemble, and move promptly to our aid, we may be saved. We have less than 350 men; the force of the enemy is possibly 3000—a vast disparity. We are almost naked and without provisions and very little ammunition. We are undisciplined in a great measure; they are regulars, the elite of Santa Ana's army; well fed, well clothed, and well appointed and accompanied by a formidable battery of heavy field and battering pieces. We have a few pieces but no experienced artillerists and but a few rounds of fixed amunition, and perhaps less of loose powder and balls. We can not therefore, calculate very sanguinely upon victory. However, we will do our best, and if we perish, Texas and our friends will remember that we have done our duty.
In my letter to sister, I alluded to the possibility of my death, not with a view to elicit hers or your sympathy, or to excite any unpleasant feelings in my behalf. I owe Mr. Hagarty a small sum he furnished me and am desirous of pointing out some mode by which it may be repaid, if I should be unfortunate enough to fall. My services here will entitle me to 1800 or more acres of land. It will revert to my legal representatives, and I hope you will claim it and appropriate a sufficient portion of it to that purpose.
From our information, we are induced to apprehend an attack on our march to Bexar, by a detachment of the enemy's cavalry. We hope they will not be in sufficient force to retard our march, much less defeat us.
I am at present acting Aid de Camp to the Commander-in-Chief and Chief Engineer of the post and master of ordnance.
It is getting late, I slept but little last night and as we must march soon in the morning, I beg you will excuse this hasty scrawl.
Give my love to mother, Norborne, Mary Ann, Hannah, Henrietta and to Richard and his family. My health is good. Farewell!
Your affectionate son, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. I have not heard from home since I left. Direct your letters to the care of J. W. Fannin, Jr., Army of Texas, pay the postage to New Orleans. I have no money. I should like to have Brooks. Do not fail to write me immediately, and send me some money if possible. I am very much in want of it, I assure you. The Government has obtained a loan and will soon pay us off—when I can pay you. Brooks. Give my respects to all who remember me. Tell the youth of Staunton they may now do some thing in the cause of Liberty if they will come to Texas. (No post mark.)
Fort Defiance in Goliad, Head Quarters, Army of Texas, March 2, 1836. My dear Mother:—
In my letters to Father and Sister a few days since, I apprized you of some of the events transpiring on the western frontier of Texas, and of our contemplated movements. Since the date of those letters, circumstances have occurred which have materially changed our system of operations for the present. I informed you that the advance of the Mexican Army consisting of 2000 men had attacked Bexar or Baiar. the town which was surrendered by Gen. Cos, to the Americans, and that we were preparing to march to its relief—it being garrisoned by 156 men, among whom is “Davy Crockett.” We marched at the time appointed, with 420 men, nearly the whole force at Goliad, leaving only one Company of Regulars to guard the Fort. Our baggage wagons and artillery were all drawn by oxen (no broken horses could be obtained) and there were but a few yokes of them. In attempting to cross the San Antonio River, three of our wagons broke down and it was with the utmost labor and personal hazzard, that our four pieces of cannon were conveyed safely across. We remained there during the day, with our ammunition wagon on the opposite side of the River. During the night, some of the oxen strayed off and could not be found the next morning. Our situation became delicate and embarrassing in the extreme. If we proceeded we must incur the risk of starvation, and leave our luggage and artillery behind. The Country between us and Bexar is entirely unsettled, and there would be but little hope of obtaining provisions on the route and we would be able only to carry 12 rounds of cartridges each. Every one felt an anxiety to relieve our friends, who we had been informed, had retired to the Alamo, a fortress in Bexar, resolved to hold out, until our arrival. Yet every one saw the impropriety, if not the impossibility of our proceeding under existing circumstances and it was equally apparent to all that our evacuation of Goliad, would leave the whole frontier from Bexar to the coast open to the incursions of the enemy, who were then concentrating at Laredo and the provisions, clothing, military stores, et cetera, at Dimmitts Landing and Matagorda, perhaps all that were in Texas, would eventually be lost. Intelligence also reached us that the advance of Santa Anas lower division had surprised San Patricio about 50 miles in front of our position and put the whole garrison under the command of Col. Johnson to the sword. Five of them have reached this place. Col. Johnson is one of them, and they are probably all that have escaped. Capt. Pearson of the Volunteers, was killed with several others, after they had surrendered. The war is to be one of extermination. Each party seems to understand that no quarters are to be given or asked. We held a Council of War in the bushes on the bank of the River; and after a calm review of all these circumstances, it was concluded to return to Goliad, and place the Fort in a defensible condition. We are hard at work, day and night, picketing, ditching, and mounting cannon, &c. We are hourly in expectation of an attack. On the morning of the 29th ult. our pickets were driven in by a number of men supposed to be a reconnoitering party of the enemy. The Garrison was called to arms and dispositions made for defense. A party of 50 men were sent out to make discoveries and the rest remained under arms till day light. Nothing satisfactory was ascertained. There are about 450 men here. The Mexican force approaching us is variously estimated at from 1500 to 3000 men. We will endeavor to make as good a stand as possible and if we are taken, it will be after a hard fight for we know that we can not expect quarters and therefore do not intend to give or ask any, result as it may.
If the division of the Mexican army advancing against this place has met any obstructions, and it is probable they have been attacked by the Comanche Indians, and their advance much retarded by the loss of their horrses and baggage, 200 men will be detached for the relief of Bexar. I will go with them. Our object will be to cut our way through the Mexican army into the Alamo, and carry with us such provisions as it will be possible to take on a forced march. Our united force will probably be sufficient to hold out until we are relieved by a large force from the Colonies.
We have just received additional intelligence from Bexar. The Mexicans have made two successive attacks on the Alamo in both of which the gallant little garrison repulsed them with some loss. Probably Davy Crockett “grinned” them off.
We will probably march tomorrow or the next day, if we can procure fresh oxen enough to transport our baggage and two six pounders. The people in the settlements are all arming themselves. The sound of clashing steel is heard on their borders and it is time they should awake now if they wish to preserve their freedom and the fruits of so many years of toil and privation. Now is the time for volunteers from the United States. Let them come with six months clothing and one hundred rounds of ammunition, and they may be of essential service to the cause of Liberty, and no doubt will be amply rewarded by the people of Texas. Now or never.
Write to me soon. I have not heard from home for four months. Direct your letters to John Sowers Brooks, Volunteer Army of Texas, to the care of J. W. Fannin, Jr., Col. and Comt. Artillery, or to Quintana, Mouth of the Brazos, to the care of Messrs McKinney and Williams and they will forward them to me. Tell Mary Ann, Father, and all of you to write, and perhaps some of the letters will reach me. Give my love to all the family. Tell Richard to write to me.
Your affectionate son, John Sowers Brooks. P. S. We are all nearly naked—and there are but few of us who have a pair of shoes. We have nothing but fresh beef without salt—no bread for several days. Brooks. On my arrival here, I was appointed Adjutant of the Post. The Col. desired to have me in his family—I therefore resigned the Adjutancy and was appointed as Aid-de-Camp. A spy was taken last night, who will probably be shot tomorrow. One of our men is under arrest for sleeping on post. He will be tried by a Court Martial—the penalty is death. I have had no money for some time and I am now nearly naked and starved—Fresh beef, without salt, is all we get. (Mailed Fort Defiance Goliad, March 2nd, 1836. Post-marked. New Orleans. Date blurred.)
Letter to Miss Mary Ann Brooks.
Fort Defiance Goliad, Texas. March 4, 1836. My dear Sister:—
Another opportunity of writing to you occurs, and I embrace it because they are infrequent, and becoming hourly more so. The precarious channel, through which all letters must arrive at, or go from this place, affords, indeed, the only satisfactory explication of your mysterious silence; and the belief that yours have been intercepted or miscarried, is consoling indeed, for it renders doubtful what, in my moments of desperation, I have often—feared is certain—that you had forgotten your poor, wayward brother. Why is it so? Why have you not written? War, it is true, “opens a vein that bleeds Nations to death;” but why should it invade the sanctity of social connection? Why should it dissolve fraternal bonds or sunder domestic ties? Is it necessary that we should be morally, as well as physically separated? That the associations of infancy, the remembrances of child hood, the anticipations of youth, and the common pleasures, hopes, and fears of better and happier days, should be forgotten, and we pursue our weary and desolate track through life, as if neither had existed? Is it necessary because we are separated, because the billows of the Atlantic, or the Pillars of the Alleghany are between us, that all the ties which bound us, in other days should be severed? I trust not. Why then do you not avail yourself of that medium of communion, which language proffers? Have I rendered myself unworthy of your affection? I know my course, since I left home, has been erratic in the extreme. But can you conceive of no reason why it has been so? If you can recall the events of the last few years, you must; if you can not, you may then perhaps, with justice, censure me for that reckless indifference, to my hopes and prospects in life, with which, I have so often been charged. It is true that I have passed unimproved many opportunities of acquiring the good opinion of my fellow men, but why was it so? Because early misfortunes have broken and seared a heart, perhaps too sensitive, and blighted all the hopes which a disposition too sanguine, has prompted me to form and cherish. Can I change the fiat of fate? Can I control the waves of mighty destiny?
My life has indeed, been a wayward and useless one; and you can not be more sensible of it, or more sincerely deplore it, than myself. But, notwithstanding all my faults and follies, I have never failed in respect for the soil of birth, regard for my native village, love for my home, or affection for my relatives. I have never forgotten: and many an hour of my loneliness has been consumed by thoughts of them. Often has the recollection of the past and of you, arrested me on the brink of acts of deeper recklessness, and of more irremediable desperation so far as this world is concerned, than any I had hitherto committed, Still a latent hope that I may see you all again, and be once more happy, swells my throbbing bosom. But there is some thing, I know not what, which whispers me, that the hope is destined to no realization on earth.
I am acting, my dear sister, in that sphere which nature designed me to fill. I am a soldier of fortune; and all the premonitions of my child hood early told me that I should be one. My profession, perhaps for life, be it short or long, will be that of arms. It is the only pursuit in which I could feel a throb of interest; and the cause in which I now exercise it, renders it still dearer, and more ennobling to me. It is the course of Liberty, of the oppressed against the Tyrant, of the free man against the bigoted slave, and, what recommends it more strongly to me, of the weak against the strong. If I fall, let me fall— It is one of the chances of the game I play—a casualty to which every soldier is liable. My prayer has been, since my earliest recollection, to die on the field of battle, with the shout of victory in my ears; and, if it is the will of high Heaven, that that fate should meet me now, I will not murmur and you should not. Remember that your religion teaches that death is but a change of scene.
But all this is of no avail. Perhaps a brief retrospect of the events of our campaign, up to this period, would be interesting to you. On the 24th day of January 1836, the Georgia Battalion of Volunteers, (of which I was Adjutant), consisting of four Companies, sailed from Velasco, at the Mouth of the Brazos, in two vessels. Our object was primarily, to attack and take Matamoras, and thus form a point of rendezvous, and concentration for volunteers from the U. States, for a more extensive invasion of Mexico. Our intention was to allow Liberal principles, and support for the time, the federation of 1824, and thus revolutionize Tamaulipas, the greater portion of whose citizens are opposed to Santa Ana, and to secure our foot hold in Mexico. The fourth day, we debarked at Copano, and after a days march, we pitched our tents at the Mission of Refugio, and waited for the promised munitions and reinforcements. They never arrived. In the mean time, our spy, who had preceded us, returned with the intelligence, that the people of Tamaulipas were opposed to any severance of the Republican bonds, and would not favor our project, if Texas declared itself independent. He also informed us, that Santa Ana was concentrating his troops, to the number, of from 7 to 12,000 men, at Matamoras, Laredo, Saltillo, Monclova, and Monterey, for the purpose of invading Texas, and punishing his rebellious subjects, with a war of extermination. We retreated to Goliad, and commenced fortifying and preparing for the threatened storm. We have remained here ever since, busily employed, in getting in provisions, military stores, picketing, ditching, and mounting cannon, for our defence.
Santa Ana's army is now in motion, and our almost unprotected frontier, is the destined goal of its operations. One of his divisions has already attacked Bexar, the town which was surrendered to the Americans, on the 18th Dec. 1835, by the Mexican General, Cos, 3 which garrison consisted of only 156 Volunteers, who retreated to the Alamo, a strong fortress in the suburbs, and still held out, at our last intelligence. “Davy Crockett” is with them. The Mexicans amounted to 2000. We started with 300 4 men to their relief, but found it impossible to proceed, from the want of horses or oxen, to transport our baggage and artillery. While deliberating on what steps to take, intelligence reached us that 200 Mexicans, the advance guard of the division of their army, which was destined to operate against this portion of our frontier, had attacked and totally defeated, Col. Johnson and his force of 40 men at San Patrico, a town on the Rio de la Neuces, about 60 miles in front of our position. Only five escaped, among whom was Col. Johnson and Mr. Toler, a merchant. We are in hourly expectation of an attack; but, from the want of horses, we are unable to obtain any accurate information of the strength or movements of the enemy. We suppose their force to be from 1500 to 3000 men. We have but 500—all Volunteers. But we are resolved to die, to a man, under the walls we have thrown up, rather than surrender to a horde of merciless savages, who have declared their determination to adhere to none of the rules of civilized war fare; but to murder all Americans, indiscriminately. Capt. Pearson and several others were shot down, after they had surrendered at San Patricio. This on the part of the enemy, is to be a war of extermination, not directed solely against the armed soldiers in the field, but against the peaceful citizen, the helpless female, and the defenceless infant. They show no quarter; we do not require it; and, indeed, both parties seem to have tacitly contracted, that it shall neither be asked nor given. Let them pursue their course of ruthless cruelty; they will encounter spirits as stern as their own; they will find, if retaliation requires it, that we can be as deaf to the calls of mercy as they can be. If victory favors us, ample shall be their retribution, for the murdered volunteers at San Patricio.
We have just learned that Col. Grant with 22 men, has been attacked by 200 Mexicans, on the road from San Patricio to Matamoras, 15 miles from the former place, and his whole party, with the exception of two who escaped, killed or taken. Col. Grant is a prisoner. Up to this time, they have uniformly killed all the Americans they take, and it is reasonable therefore, to infer that not one of that ill fated party survived.
We will probably be attacked before I can write you again. The advance of the enemy is within 25 miles of us. If we are defeated, it will be after a hard fight. Tell every one of the family to write to me, and mail their letters different days.
Events are thickening upon us. I will write to you again, the first opportunity that occurs. In the mean time write to me by several different mails; and if I die, reflect that it will be in a good cause.
Give my love to all the family.
Your affectionate brother, John Sowers Brooks. Direct your letters to John Sowers Brooks, Volunteer Army of Texas, to the care of Col. J. W. Fannin, Jr., or to Quintana, Mouth of the Brazos, to the care of Messrs. McKinney &Williams. It has been four months since I have heard from home. On my arrival at Goliad, I was appointed Adjutant of the Post. I have since been transferred to the General's Staff, as Aid-de-Camp. I am nearly naked, almost barefooted, and without a cent of money. We have had nothing but beef for several days. We suffer much and labor hard in repairing the Fort. (Endorsed on the back, “Will Mess. McKinney &Williams, please forward this letter to U. S. by first opportunity and oblige, J. S. B.” Post Marked, New Orleans, Mar. 23. Endorsed, Fort Defiance, Mar. 4, 1836.)
Letter to Mr. James Hagarty, New York, U. S.
Fort Defiance, Goliad Texas, March 9, 1836. My dear friend:—
I have written to you several times since my arrival in Texas; but, as I have received no answer from you, I presume my letters have miscarried. An opportunity now occurs of forwarding to Matagorda, whence it will more probably be shipped to New Orleans, than by the usual route, now infested by the enemy.
A brief retrospect of our heretofore bloodless campaign, will perhaps, be interesting to you. I write in great haste, and may possibly, omit events necessary to elucidate our conduct. Indeed, it is impossible within the compass of a single letter, to give you any idea of the manner in which our little army has been influenced by the policies of the Country; though most of them are strangers to it, and consequently unable to realize the motives, which actuate the different parties.— For Texas is not, as you would probably suppose, united, in the great struggle before her. Party spirit has taken a form even more malignant than she has assumed in the U. States; and to such an extent has domestic cavilling been carried, that the Council have deposed, impeached, and arrested the Governor, while he, by an official fiat, has dissolved the Council; and thus we see the striking anomaly of two Governors, created by different authorities, ruling in the same country.
But, to return— On the 24th day of January 1836, the Georgia Battallion of Volunteers, in which I held a responsible office, sailed from the Brazos, under the Command of J. W. Fannin, Jr. The object of this expedition was to take the City of Matamoras, to revolutionize the State of Tamaulipas, to form a nucleus, or point of rendezvous for volunteers from the U. States, to harrass the enemy at sea, to relieve ourselves from the burden of the war by carrying it out of the Country, and to give employment to the volunteers who had lately arrived. On the 4th day we arrived Copano, at the head of the Aransasso Bay, where we debarked, and landed our stores, munitions, and artillery. After a days march, we pitched our tents at the Mission of Refugio, in Mr. Power's grant, and remained for a few days, in order to make cartridges and prepare our artillery, which was defective, for service. In the mean time, the scout who had been sent ahead, returned with information, that Santa Ana had already commenced the concentration of his army on our frontiers. They were rendezvousing at Matamoras, Monclova, Saltillo, Monterey, and Laredo, to the number of from 6 to 10000 men, and designed attacking Bexar and Goliad simultaneously, with two divisions of his army, and marching the third between those points to San Felipe, where he intended fortifying. We immediately apprised Government of these facts, and fell back to Goliad with our small force of 450 men, and commenced repairing the Fort. Bexar was garrisoned by 150 or 200 men; and with this handful of 6 or 700 Volunteers, we are left by the generous Texians, to roll back the tide of invasion from their soil.
On the 23rd ult. the Mexican advance, reached Bexar, and attacked the subsequent morning with 1800 men. The gallant little garrison retired to the Alamo, a fortress in the suburbs, resolved to hold out to the last. The Mexicans made several assaults, and were repulsed with loss at every instance. On the receipt of the intelligence at Goliad, we promptly marched with 320 5 men and four pieces of artillery, to their aid. In marching a few miles, our oxen became weary, and we were compelled to halt or leave our baggage and artillery. While consulting on what course to pursue, we received news of the successive defeats of the parties of Cols. Johnson and Grant, in Tamaulipas., and of the approach of the lower division of Santa Ana's army on our position at Goliad. A Council of War was held in the bushes, and it was determined to return to the post we had vacated in the morning, as its abandonment would leave the road open to the settlements, and completely uncover our depot of provisions, the only one now in Texas, and consequently the main stay of the Army. 6
The Mexicans, to the number of 700, are now in San Patricio, about 60 miles in front of our position; and another party of 200 have been discovered within 18 miles of us, between us and Gonzales. Every thing indicates that an attack will be speedily made upon us. Their scouts, well mounted, frequently push up to our walls, and, from the want of horses, we are unable to punish them.
We have again heard from Bexar, Santa Ana has arrived there himself, with 3000 men, making his whole force 4800. He has erected a battery within 400 yards of the Alamo, and every shot goes through it, as the walls are weak. It is feared that Bexar will be taken and that the devoted courage of the brave defenders will be of no avail.
We have had no bread, for several days. I am nearly naked, without shoes, and without money. We suffer much, and as soon as Bexar falls, we will be surrounded by 6000 infernal Mexicans. But we are resolved to die under the walls rather than surrender.
You shall hear from me again as soon as possible.
I am acting Aid-de-Camp to the Commander-in-Chief, with the rank of Lieutenant. The Express is anxious to start, and I am compelled to close this letter, unfinished.
Independence has probably been declared. We are in a critical situation. I will die like a soldier.
Farewell, John S. Brooks. (Endorsed, “Mes. McKinney &Williams will please forward this to the U. S. by the first opportunity and oblige, J. S. B.” Also “Goliad, Mar. 9, '36. Post Marked New Orleans, Mar. 28.)
Letter to A. H. Brooks.
Fort Defiance, Goliad, Texas, March 10, 1836. My dear Father:—
I wrote to Mother and to Mary Ann a few days since; but, as the route over which the Government's courier, who carried the letters, must have passed has been infested by advanced parties of the enemy, it is possible they have been intercepted; and, as an officer will be sent to Matagorda to morrow, I have concluded to write again.
In the letters referred to, and some others I have previously written, I gave a brief detail of the events of our campaign up to this period. As some of these epistles, must have reached their destination, I will not again trouble you will a narration of incidents, which I presume, are familiar to you.
A party of 70 men, under the joint command of Col's. Grant and Johnson, have been in Temaulipas, for the purpose of acquiring information, as to the designs of the enemy, ever since the fall of Bexar in December last. They had taken from 2 to 300 horses, for the use of the army; and were gradually retiring on this post, when half the party, with Col. Johnson at its head, was attacked by about 200 of the enemy, and totally defeated. Six, among whom was their leader, escaped. Capt. Pearson, and two others were inhumanly butchered, after they had surrendered. They, of course, lost all their horses and arms. The party under Col. Grant, were attacked between 8 and 9 o'clock in the morning. They were bringing on a large herd of horses, and in their attempt to save them, and, at the same time, fight the enemy, who amounted to 150, they were cut to pieces. Five only escaped. Col. Grant was either killed on the ground, or is now a prisoner. Scarcely had the intelligence of these disasters to our advance in Tamaulipas reached us, when we were informed by express, that the Mexicans had entered Bexar with an effective force of 1800 men. The garrison there consisted of 156 Americans, who retreated, on the approach of the enemy to the Alamo, a Spanish fortress in the neighborhood, which was immediately invested, and has been vigorously besieged up to the date of our latest intelligence.
Immediately on receipt of the news, we promptly took up the line of march, in order to relieve them. After proceeding three miles, several of our baggage wagons broke down; and it was found impossible, to get the ammunition carts or artillery over the river San Antonio. We accordingly halted. During the night our oxen strayed off. In the morning a Council of War was convened. While it was in session, a courier apprised us, that 650 of the enemy, the same, probably, who had defeated Grant and Johnson, had reached San Patricio on the Neuces and would attack our depot of provisions on the La Baca, and at Matagorda. With these facts before us, it was concluded to return to Goliad, and maintain that place, which was done.
Thirty two men have cut their way into the Alamo, with some provisions. The enemy have erected a battery of nine pounders within 400 yards of the Fort, and every shot goes through the walls. A large party of the enemy are between this and Bexar, with a design of cutting off reinforcements. Another division of 3000 Mexicans have arrived at Bexar, making their whole force now there 4800 men. The little garrison still holds out against this formidable force. It is said that Santa Ana is himself with the army before the Alamo.
It is said that Santa Ana designs driving all the Americans beyond Sabine. We have just been advised that he intends detaching 1000 men from Bexar, to form a junction with the 650 at San Patrico, and then reduce this place. We have 450 men here, and twelve pieces of small artillery. We have strengthened the fort very much; and he will find it difficult with his 1650 men to drive us from our post.
We are hourly anticipating an attack, and preparing for it. We are short of provisions, and that is now our deadliest foe. Unless we are soon supplied, we can not hold out much longer. We have had no bread for some time. We suffer much from the want of shoes and clothing.
Excuse this hasty letter. I have just returned from a weary and unsuccessful march in pursuit of a party of Mexicans, who appeared a few miles from this place.
I have not heard from home since I have been in Texas, and I am at a loss to account for your silence.
The Convention, which met the first of this month, it is rumored, have declared Texas independent. No official or authentic information, however, has come to hand.
You shall hear from me again as soon as possible. I am Aid-de-Camp to the Commandant here. Farewell.
Your affectionate son, John S. Brooks. P. S. I have neither clothes nor money to buy them. The Government furnishes us with nothing,—not even amunition. I have written nearly twenty letters home, all of them unanswered. Brooks. Give my love to all the family and write. (Endorsed “March 10th, 1836, Fort Defiance, Goliad.” Post Marked, “New Orleans, April 19.)
New Orleans, 4th June, 1836. Mr. N. C. Brooks:—
Sir., Your letter of the 13th ult. came to hand this morning; I showed it to General Houston, who is now at my house, confined by a very severe wound, and I very much regret to be compelled in candor to inform you that he has no doubt of the fact of your brother's having fallen. The Brooks, who made an application before me, cannot be your brother, his name is different, and he is quite an illiterate man. With the hope that you will excuse the laconic style of a business man, who has to answer some half-dozen letters similar to yours every day.
I am respectfully Your mo ob Sr Wm. Christy. (Post Marked New Orleans, June 5, '36.)
Natchitoches, 26th June, 1836. To A. H. Brooks, Esq.,
Dear Sir:—I have the pleasure to acknowledge the receipt of your esteemed letter of the 30th ult. which did not reach me until last night.—In answer to your inquiries respecting the fate of your brave and gallant son, John S. Brooks, I can give you no certain information. Major Cook informs me that he saw your son in La Bahia on the 19th of February last. He was then adjutant of the Regiment under Col. Fannin, and continued in that station until the surrender of Col. F. I have no doubt but that he was amongst our unfortunate countrymen who perished at La Bahia—If any information reaches me concerning him or if his papers should be received, they shall be forwarded to you without delay.—
Your obt. Servant, Sam. Houston. (Post-Marked New Orleans, June 30.)
Courttako, Ala., 5th Aug., 1836. Mr. N. C. Brooks, Staunton, Va.
Dear Sir:—I have just received your letter, and hasten to give you the information you desire, in relation to the fate of your gallant though unfortunate brother. I knew him well, and as we were both natives of the same state, we soon became well acquainted, and our intercourse was of the most friendly character. Indeed, commanding “The Red Rovers” my-self, placed me in a situation to be with him almost daily.
He was in the battle of the Prairie on the 19th March, fought with a musket, in the most cool and chivalrous manner, and received a very severe wound in the centre of the left thigh which shattered the bone and caused great pain. He was taken back to Goliad and lodged in the same house with some wounded Mexican Officers,— This was done at Col. Fannin's instance who thought he would be better attended to, and who seemed to take a deep interest in his situation. He was daily attended by a young Surgeon (Dr. Field) and I visited him likewise. I saw him for the last time, late on Saturday evening previous to the massacre. Dr. Field was with him that night and has since informed me, that he was at his bed-side on the following morning, when he was taken out by a file of soldiers, who murdered him within a short distance of the house. I have thus been particular in my details, in order to remove everything like doubt or suspense on this painful subject. I sincerely condole with his friends in their bereavement and if anything can mitigate their grief, it can be found in the estimate which was placed upon the young man by all who knew him.
John Sowers Brooks, was alike conspicuous for his private virtues and noble daring in battle.
Respectfully yrs. Jack Shackleford. (Post-Marked Courto. A. Aug. 5.)
Charlemont, September 2, 1836.
Dear Sir:—Yours of the 27th August, was received this morning and though a review of those horrid scenes is painful to me, yet it always gives me pleasure to be able, though in a small way, to administer the balm of consolation to the bereaved friends of those who have fallen by more than savage cruelty. And the interest which I had taken in your brother, renders this task peculiarly unpleasant. I was introduced to your brother John Sowers Brooks, at Goliad, about two weeks before the fatal battle of Colette in which his thigh bone was broken by a ball. Your brother's pleasant and affable manners soon brought about an intimate acquaintance between us. He bore himself at all times in a manner worthy of his rank and promise. He was a favorite with all who knew him, especially Col. F. and Mr. Chadwick. His suffering was much more severe than is common in such cases in consequence of spasms in the muscles of the wounded thigh, which made him often pray for death, which he asked at my hand, as his only remaining friend to whom he could appeal. He gave me many small mementoes, which I designed to send to his friend, but I was unable to keep them.
I rendered him every comfort in my power, but how little that was, you, I presume, can imagine. He had no warning of his death until the blow came that set his spirit free.
When he gave the last shriek, a Mexican officer who was also wounded turned to me and said, “Your friend is dead.” He then ordered me to carry your brothers trunk to him, and opening it, he appeared to derive much satisfaction from the prospect of so many good clothes. 7 Among the papers given me to read and interpret was a letter from Gen. Austin, in reply to one from your brother proposing to assist the Texans, in their struggle for the defence of their homes, and constitutional liberty, and likewise a captain's commission from the Texian government. Your description is in exact agreement with the person whom I call your brother.
The names of the Mexican officers I do not remember.
A minute account of that engagement together with many others fought in Texas, with an account of the causes of the war &c., I have given the public in pamphlet form. I, a few days since, forwarded a paper containing the account of my suffering on that occasion, to Mrs. Mary Brooks of Staunton, the only one of his, your brother's relatives, whose name I remember.
With much esteem and commiseration,
I subscribe myself, &c., Jos. E. Field. (Postmarked “Charlemont” Sept. 6th, 1836. To Mr. Norborne C. Brooks.)
New York, October 7th, 1836.
Dear Sir:—Yours of Sept. 1st was duly received, but from a hope that I should be able so to arrange my affairs as to enable me to return through Staunton, I have delayed an answer until the last moment of hope.
Nothing could afford me greater satisfaction than an interview with the friends and relatives of one of whose acquaintance I have so much cause to be proud. It would also remove the embarrassment I now feel in anticipating the enquiries you would make concerning him.
My acquaintance with your son was short but interesting to me and the good feeling he always manifested, will make his memory ever dear to me.
Our conversation turned generally upon the incidents of the war in which we were engaged. The probability of its favorable issue. The beauties of the country, and promising prospects which it afforded to the young and enterprising.
I know