EPILOGUE
THE BATTLE OF SAN JACINTO.
Scene I.
An open field near Vince's Bridge, on the grounds where afterwards the Battle of San Jacinto took place. Enters Bradburn, haggard, in ragged clothing, bearing on his arms and ankles iron rings, from which the chains have been filed off.
I have escaped! am free from chains at last;
For days and weeks I patiently have borne
Taunts from the lips and tortures from the hands
Of Santa Anna and his servile knaves.
Each of their victories brought me sneers and insults,
Each of their bloodsheds added wounds to mine;
But well I have remembered every item
Of—despot!—thy indebtedness to me,
And quietly nursed my wrath, till on one day
With interest thousandfold thou shalt repay:
[With impassionate voice.]
Tyrant! that day has come; the hour has struck
That will blot out thy pride, thy fame, thy luck.
[Continuing more quietly.]
I cannot err! God's finger points it out!
My light escape upon the very spot
Which, from their threats, should see my execution,—
The bridges, by the freshet swept away,
The marshy ground, impeding every step.
All these foreshadow their defeat and ruin,
And more,—as if a god had struck them blind,
They, in the recklessness of their success,
Neglect the plainest rules of watchfulness—
Seest, tyrant, not the writing on the wall
That prophesies thy near-impending fall?
How so familiar seem these grounds to me,
How touchingly these meads address my heart,
As if they were my childhood's rambling-place.
Here o'er these fields the prancing charger bore
My daughter at my side with fleeting pace;
There gleam the glassy waters of the bay
Upon whose emerald waves we oft beguiled
The merry hours with sail and oar and net,
And yonder in the hazy distance rise
The pinnacles of Anahuac's Fort,
Our former pleasant, peaceful, happy home—
Till broke the demon of thy tyranny
Upon the peace of every family.
What evil thou hast sown from far-off land.
That evil's harvest-field shall be this strand.
I, too, have sinned, have wronged my fellow-men,
Have raged against my kindred and myself.
But though All-gracious Heaven may deem my throes
And gloomy bondage full atonement's price
For what my waywardness has brought about,
I must do more; my honor and my fame
I must restore before my countrymen.
And in sublimity of earthly record
Become a fit companion to the souls
Of my beloved ones 'mid celestial spheres.
This done I fain will yield my parting breath,
And find my brightest triumph in my death,
While, tyrant, thou shalt live to contemplate
Thy shattered power and to bewail thy fate.
Yes, I must die, will die, though God forbid,
That I enlist my hand to end my life;
For so much I have learned in that poor school
Which I must call my sorrowful career.
That one offence 'gainst Nature's ordinance
Cannot be remedied by still another.
As at the evening of some dismal day,
The radiant sun from the horizon's brink
Once more will clothe the somber firmament
With purplish-golden hues, before he sets—
I, too, will crown my ill-spent, wayward life
By one bright deed, one bliss-conferring act
The proverb's truth: All's well that endeth well.
Be demonstrated in my funeral knell.
Scene II.
Deaf Smith, the Scout, appears with a party of seven men.
Bradburn.
But see! who comes? 'T is Texans: their advent
I hail with joy: it guarantees success.
Deaf Smith.
Who art thou, fellow, enemy or friend?
Bbadburn.
My uniform betides the Mexican,
My heart's pulse throbs for Texas and her freedom.
Deaf Smith.
So art thou a deserter? Strange, indeed,
Must be the motive that induces thee
To leave thy comrades' banner at a time,
When Victory, the fickle goddess, is
So stable a companion of their arms.
When in the fatness of the land they revel,
While want and hopelessness abide with us.
Bradburn.
The purer my intention is.
Deaf Smith.
Bradburn.
I shall reveal it to thy general.
Lead me to him: for my report is urgent.
Deaf Smith.
Then, Alsbury, conduct him to the camp,
While farther we pursue our scouting-tour.
Bradburn.
No, no. Sir Scout, ye all must come with me,
For every gallant arm is needed there.
'T is useless quite for you to search for news
That mine would not exceed a hundred-fold
By weightiness and accurate account.
But ere we go, my friends, let us destroy
This bridge, to thwart the enemy's hasty flight;
The swampy shores will stay their horses' feet,
The swollen waves defy their strength to cross.
So go to work; then I shall follow you.
Deaf Smith.
Thou, a deserter, unknown and despised,
Commandest here, as if thou wert our master;
And yet I know not what it is that prompts me
Implicitly thy order to obey.
If I believed in visions, I should ween
Thou wert an angel sent from heavenly realms,
Disguised in beggar's dress, to aid our cause
By thine advice; so beams thy eye inspired.
And so assuring sounds to me thy voice.
So, friends, make haste to hurl these planks and beams
Into the waves; for if that man tells true,
Our arms are needed in the camp to-day.
Bradburn.
[With exultation.]
As falls this yoke, forced on the river's brow,
So shall the yoke of tyranny be severed
That weighed so heavily upon this land,
Proclaim, ye beams, wherever ye may fare.
Proclaim, ye rafters, swimming to the sea,
That also ye have done your humble share
To set one people more at liberty.
You fitly oped the tragedy's prelude,
Which now our weapons bravely shall conclude.
Scene III.
General Sam, Houston's tent. Gen. Houston, Gen. Burleson, Texan officers.
Houston.
I have now laid before you, Gentlemen,
The grounds wherefore I deem it wise to act
On the defensive, and to fight our foes
Before our lines, than rather to attack
Their far superior numbers in the field.
Speak thy opinion, Burleson, and state
What thou deem'st prudent for the good of all.
Burleson.
Time, master of us all, is just as potent
With nations as with individuals.
Each has some moments, which, if wisely used.
Will seize their barks as by an under-tow,
And lift them on the billows of success.
And though I have no reason to advance
Than what I feel within my bosom's shrine,
A holy voice,—I take it,—given by God,
I pray thee, Chief,—I pray ye, gentlemen,
Not to foreclose an opportunity
Which missed may nevermore again return.
We must attack the enemy to-day.
This very hour, or lose our chance forever.
Houston.
What is with thee? I never heard thee speak
So deep-mysteriously, so strange-perversely.
Burleson.
The more a ground why thou shouldst not reject
This time my counsel, weird as it may seem.
Houston.
Where highest wisdom must decide a deed.
Thou wouldst decline her guidance and advice?
Burleson.
'T is better, when a spirit shows the way.
Relieving us from scanning Wisdom's scruples.
Houston.
Our plainest acts are ruled by common-sense
And in this crisis we should waive its conduct?
Burleson.
Prudence is good enough for every day,
It needs a god to guide in danger's hour.
Houston.
'T be far from us to doubt the help of God,
Who quickens human wit in troubled times.
Burleson.
The voice of God is best learnt through the heart
That reads His signs with trusting, child-like mind;
So let us then await our scouts' report,
Which, as I fondly hope, will change thy views.
Houston.
Just now I hear the voice of Smith without;
Let him come in, to render his report.
Scene IV.
Enter Deaf Smith and Bradburn.
Houston.
Whom bring'st thou here to us—a captive, Smith?
Deaf Smith.
No, General, a deserter whom we met
At Vince's Bridge, and who, as he professes,
Brings weighty tidings from the enemy.
Burleson.
[Placing himself squarely before Bradburn, whose arms he seizes, and whose features he scans with intense eagerness.]
This face,—this stature—should I know them not?
'T is Colonel Bradburn—but, alas, how changed!
Bradburn.
Yes, deeply changed through grim Affliction's hand,
In face and hair,—but also changed in heart.
Burleson.
We heard of it, though scarce we could believe it;
So tell! what leads thy journey to our camp?
Bradburn.
To call you out to fight this very hour.
Burleson.
Hast, Chief, thou heard? Have, Generals, ye heard
What greater proof of my opinion's justice
Will you require than that, my word scarce uttered,
It instantly and strongly is confirmed.
And though it is a beggar, a deserter,
A traitor, if you will, that bears it out.
No less he comes a messenger from heaven!
For Providence has different ways from ours
And uses means beyond our comprehension.
But, Bradburn, tell us now whereon thou basest
Thy message which to me is clear enough.
Bradburn.
With less than thousand men and thirteen guns
Had Santa Anna hardly crossed the river
In eager hurry to prevent your flight,
When oped the heavens the sluices of their lakes
And sent upon the earth an avalanche
Of water-floods which made the plain a sea
And filled the rivers to their utmost brink.
The bridges by the torrents swept away,
The forces under Cos and Filisola
Are yet detained at Harrisburg and Brazos.
Now, now or never is your time and chance,
Triumphantly by one stroke of the sword
To consummate your highest aspirations.
Oh! profit of the moment ere it flees,
Observe how Fortune—God!—has cleared for you
An unobstructed path, upon whose goal
The laurel-wreath of Victory hangs suspended.
Burleson.
Oh! list to him, for he is sent by God.
Houston.
Where lies a nation's fate upon the scale,
It surely needs a stronger argument
Than a deserter's to decide upon.
Deaf Smith.
So let my lips corroborate his word.
For going past the enemy's camp this morn
No scouts were seen, no sentries, no intrenchments.
Like swarming bees, so roamed the Mexicans,
Some here, some there, for fodder and for wood;
In open fields they unprotected lie
With swamps and swollen rivers in their rear,
And not one bridge for their retreat, since we
At his advice (pointing at Bradburn) destroyed the last at Vince's.
Houston.
And may not this apparent negligence
Be but a mask, a ruse to lure us on
To our defeat upon his chosen ground?
Bradburn.
These papers ta'en from Santa Anna's tent
Will prove to thee, that quite a different scheme
Lies in his plan; he only bides the coming
Of Cos and Filisola to surround
Your forces here, and with one final blow
To crush the hope of Liberty forever.
Houston.
This only strengthens my opinion more
To wait for his attack in our position;
For knowing his design, we lightly can
Defeat it by the weapons of his own.
Bradburn.
So hear me, Chief; so hear me, Generals!
Here on my knees I now beseech you all!
[On his knees he crouches round the circle with uplifted hands. Then he opens his coat and bares his arms, to show his wounds, at which all express the utmost horror.]
Behold these stripes, behold these ghastly wounds,
Which call aloud for vengeance and requital.
And yet this costly property of mine,
And the remembrance of my grievous wrongs,
My daughter's martyrdom, her lover's death,
I fain will lay upon this country's altar,
Since far a greater sacrifice I brought.
For list! Last night, when drunk with ardent wine
From pillaged Harrisburg obtained, my guards
Were fast asleep, when Santa Anna self
Lay on his camp-bed in unconscious stupor,
By dint of weary filing I at last
Freed me of chains, pressed deep into my flesh.
On hands and knees I crept then, where he lay,
He, he, the fiend, that wrecked my life,—he, he.
That used to while his leisure-hours away.
To see me writhe beneath his cruel hand;
He, he, that scarce an hour ago had struck
And stamped me in his drunken humor's fit.
As standing so before my mortal foe,
I gazed upon his hateful countenance,
Each raking pain I felt in limb and heart,
Each sneer engraven on my memory,
Was blended in one single thought and feeling,
One single wish and joy:—Revenge!
E'en then I had unsheathed his sword—e'en then
I held the glittering blade high in the air,—
E'en then I nerved me for the wieldy blow,—
E'en then the arch-fiend's life hung by a thread,—
When seemed an unseen hand to check my arm,
While rang a soothing voice into my ear
That spake: "Give him to me! I, Freedom, will
Avenge thee through the liberty of Texas!"
I heard, I thought, I turned, I came away.
Has one of you to show a claim like potent
On Freedom, I will waive my own; for wealth
And even life cannot compete with it.
Yet even these I gladly will forego:
My wealth to those impoverished through this war,
My life to God, when in the fight I fall.
All that I feel and am so laid aside,
I am prepared to join my friends above,
And soar a happy spirit o'er the land
I helped to ransom from the tyrant's yoke.
Houston.
My heart is turned: I fain resign my right;
What say, ye, comrades, shall we wait or fight?
Generals.
Lead us to battle, Chief!
Houston.
So be it then!
Now go from here, call out your gallant men,
And lead them on to death or victory:
"To-day or never!" let the watchword be!
Burleson.
Here, Bradburn! take my sword! no better man
E'er held its hilt in Freedom's battle-van.
Bradburn.
Oh, thanks! my guilt on earth redeemed, forgot.
So ye, my friends in Heaven, reject me not!
[Exeunt.]
Scene V.
The conquered camp of the Mexicans on the battle-field of San Jacinto. The back-ground is filled with smoke amid which soldiers are seen hurrying to and fro. The foreground represents a conquered battery where Bradburn lies stretched on the ground, apparently dead. Sam Houston, followed by Burleson, Deaf Smith and a Surgeon, enter on the rear of the battery. The Surgeon is seen bandaging General Houston's wounded foot, whenever he can do so.
Houston.
The victory is ours! on every side
The enemy are fleeing in dismay,
Hotly pursued by our brave volunteers.
But as the night is settling fast and swamps
Hedge in the enemy beyond escape,
I deem it wise to end this day's exploits.
So, Burleson! go, make this will of mine
Beknown unto the several commanders,
That here we'll make our camp-stead for the night,
Where I await their presence and reports.
Sweetest a victor sleeps upon the field
Which heard his shout and saw his gallant deed.
Come, Smith; come. Surgeon! let us choose our seats
On yonder gun, to bide our friends' return.
But see, who lies here dead. 'T is Colonel Bradburn!
[Houston takes a seat of a gun-carriage, while the Surgeon bandages his foot.]
Deaf Smith.
Yes, General, it is he! Upon this spot
He fell and died, pierced by a musket-ball.
When formed our men in line, we took our stand
Upon the right of Sherman's regiment.
Advancing silently at the command,
With every step the Colonel seemed to tower
Taller and taller, like an airy vision,
Till when the enemy's cannon oped on us,
He, with a voice that drowned their mighty roar.
Called out to Sherman's volunteers: "Remember
The Alamo![1] As darts the lightning-bolt
Athwart the air, so flashed this battle-cry
Through every bosom, and from wing to wing
The startled breezes bore its thundering echo.
Awed by this deafening peal the enemy
With terror broke their ranks; this battery
Alone sustained its fire against our men.
They wavered for an instant; wresting then
The regimental standard from the ensign,
And waving it with vigor, Colonel Bradburn
Rushed straight against the cannon's mouth and planted
The banner on the rampart. So he stood
In high relief against the smoke-wrapt sky.
Ere yet our men had scaled the parapet;
But when I reached his side, he suddenly
Sank lifeless to the ground, exclaiming yet:
"It is achieved: the fight is won—I die!"
But see, he moves, he lives, he opes his eyes.
Bradburn.
[With faint voice.]
Where am I?
Deaf Smith.
Who fondly hopes thy life may yet be spared,
Houston.
Quick, Surgeon, leave me and attend on him.
To save his life! his gallantry deserves it!
[Under the Surgeon's hand, and with the assistance of Deaf Smithy Bradburn revives more and more, so that with mute delight he can manifest his interest in the incidents of]
Scene VII.
Enter Texan Volunteers, bearing Mexican battle-flags, which they present to General Houston.
A Volunteer.
Hail, General Houston! at thy feet we lay
These flags, the trophies of this glorious day.
Houston.
I thank you, friends, in our Republic's name;
Her power, her freedom be your prize and fame.
[Other volunteers bring Santa Anna's sword, lost by him during his flight.]
A Volunteer.
Victorious Chief! we put into thine hand
This costly falchion, Santa Anna's brand.
Houston.
I take it as a pledge, that nevermore
That foe of Texas will invade her shore,
A Volunteer.
To thee we bring, made captive on our raid,
Colonel Almonte, Santa Anna's aid.
Houston.
He shall bear witness, that our arms' success
Is equaled only by our gentleness.
[Cheer's in the rear of the stage. Gen. Burleson comes in haste, followed by Texan volunteers.]
Burleson.
Hail, Chief ! e'en now a gallant volunteer
Brings Santa Anna self as prisoner here.
Houston.
Has been to us that precious hostage given,
Then Free is Texas! Thank the Lord in Heaven!
[At the announcement of the last report Bradburn makes signs to the Surgeon and Deaf Smiith to raise him up. This done, he speaks with ever-rising voice, while the volunteers form a semi-circle around him.]
Bradburn.
Yes, thank the Lord! whose mighty arm has wrought
This end sublime, too high for human thought.
Yes, thank the Lord! whose love has many more
And greater blessings still for you in store.
For mystery's veil now from my eye withdrawn,
I see this land emerge from Freedom's dawn,
To broader sway, to greater sphere of might,
Maintaining it in many a gallant fight.
With millions I behold her borders filled
Of freemen, brave, intelligent and skilled,
Whose industry lays ope her mountains' yields,
And turns her plains to fertile harvest-fields:
W^hose energy, as by a magic wand,
Lets cities rise, where forest-groves now stand,
Whose handicraft makes ring her sea-girt shore
And enters far into her bosom's core.
So, so the youthful State shall grow in power.
Yet will she reach still higher glory's dower
When entering in the Union's radiant gates
She blends her future with her Sister-States.
All obstacles, all causes of delay,
That check their progress, moved from out the way,
Oh, joyous contest, that will then ensue,
Oh, glorious race before whole Mankind's view:
When for the highest prizes of humanity
They lay them out with zeal and energy.
When fall the richest blessings one by one
On each and yet on all in unison:
Strength won in constant practice of their powers.
Then Wealth acquired by search of Nature's dowers,
Then Peace, ensured by their imposing might,
Then Happiness, their efforts' well-earned right,
Then Grace and Beauty, as they stately-grand
Approach their goal, joy-flushed and hand in hand,—
United, yet distinct, none like the rest,
Yet each in standard equal to the best:
Oh, heavenly bliss! e'en with the spirit's eye
To have beheld this prospect and — — —to die.
[He sinks lifeless to the ground. The soldiers holding the banners let them droop upon him. All stand profoundly moved. The curtain falls. When it rises once more in the]
Scene VIII.
William Travis and Elsie, the latter attired as Goddess of Victory, are seen standing amid a transfiguring light at the head of Bradburn, upon which Elsie puts a laurel-wreath. The soldiers, all of whom have left the stage, are overheard singing the following
HYMN OF VICTORY.[2]
I.
Chorus.
It is achieved ! the fight is won!
And what our doubting hearts begun
Upon these fields in years gone by
Stands wrought before our wondering eye!
Solo Voice.
Such is not due to human hand,
'T is God, who thus has blest your land!
So, like the scent of sacrifice,
Let ye to Him your thanks arise.
Other voices.[3]
Praise the Lord!
Chorus.
Praise Him, ye Earth and Sky,
Praise Him, oh Sea!
Glory to God on high:
Texas is free.
2.
Chorus.
Your merry blasts ye trumpets send
Throughout the land, from end to end,
To gladden by your tidings' peal,
Where throbs a heart for Texas' weal.
Solo Voice.
So also let their joyous sound
Waft over every hero's mound,
To tell him how you dearly prize
His glorious deeds, his sacrifice.
Other Voices.
Praise the Lord!
Chorus.
Praise Him, ye Earth and Sky,
Praise Him, oh Sea!
Glory to God on High:
Texas is free!
3.
Chorus.
Henceforth our Texan realm shall be
A sacred fane of Liberty;
No foreign Lord shall evermore
Wield here his sway, invade her shore.
Solo Voices.
So vow upon this holy ground
A proud, a valiant State to found,
Where culture dwells, where law is feared,
Where Truth is honored, God revered.
Other Voices.
Praise the Lord!
Chorus.
Praise Him, ye Earth and Sky,
Praise Him, oh Sea!
Glory to God on high:
Texas is free!
[Curtain.]