it's no use, there are a thousand Americans in the woods.'When Santa Anna saw Almonte's division running- past him, he called a drummer and ordered him to beat his drum. The drummer held up his hands and told him he was shot. He called then to a trumpeter near him to sound his horn. The trumpeter replied that he also was shot. Just at this instant a ball from one of our cannon struck a man who was standing near Santa Anna, taking off one side of his head. Santa Anna then exclaimed, 'D these Americans, I believe they will shoot us all.' He immediately mounted his horse and commenced his flight."
The Texans chased the flying Mexicans far over the prairie, following up the indiscriminate slaughter, and leaving on the ground where the battle began, a larger number than their own, living, dying, or dead. Attempting to escape through the tall grass, multitudes were overtaken and killed. The enemy's cavalry were well mounted. When they saw that further resistance was fruitless, spurring their fast horses, they directed their course toward Vince's Bridge. The victors hotly pursued them. When they came to the stream, to their horror they saw the bridge was gone. Appalled and desperate, some of the flying horsemen spurred their horses down the steep bank; some dismounted and plunged into the stream; some became entangled in their trappings, and were dragged with their struggling horses; others sunk to the bottom, and those who succeeded with their horses in reaching the opposite bank, fell backwards into the river. The Texan pursuers as they came up, poured a deadly fire upon the Mexicans struggling with the flood. Escape was impossible. By hundreds, men and horses rolled together. Blood discolored the stream; dying gurgles mingled with the plashing of waters.
Never before has history recorded an event in such words: "The deep, turbid stream was literally choked with the dead." In the rear of the battle-ground near the Mexican encampment, on the southern verge of the Island of Trees, a spectacle of equal strangeness and horror was witnessed. Many had rushed to this spot as their last hope. The escape in this quarter was slight. A deep morass exhibited no inconsiderable barrier to passage. Horses and mules with their riders plunged into the mire only to be completely submerged. Practiced riflemen prevented the escape of any one likely to escape. The bodies of dead mules, horses, and men made a bridge across the morass.
Almonte, with two hundred and fifty cooler, if not braver, men prepared on the Island of Trees to resist or surrender rather than fly. Rallying as large a body of men as could be assembled, Houston prepared to lead his men to a charge,but his noble horse, that had gallantly borne his rider throughout the battle, staggered and fell dead with seven balls in his body. In dismounting, Gen. Houston struck
