By Anna Kathryn Lanier
At the beginning of 1836, General Santa Anna and his Mexican
troops of 4,000 men and artillery crossed the Rio Grande River. As news of this
invasion spread from San Patricio, Refugio and San Antonio, panic also increased
and families fled. When the Alamo fell on March 6, 1836, full-fledged terror
set in. Sam Houston, commander of the Texas Army, was in Gonzalez at the time.
Thirty-two of the town’s men were killed at the Alamo, so everyone was
related to or knew of someone who died.
Expecting Santa Anna to continue his march across Texas, Houston ordered
the evacuation of and the burning of the Gonzalez to prevent the Mexican army
any provisions. Thus began the largest exodus to take place in the United
States as thousands of Texans made their way east toward the Louisiana border
(and the United States).
People packed and left so fast that it is said one household
left a dinner of fried chicken, coffee and a fresh pitcher of milk on the
table. Families quickly hauled clothes, bedding, provisions onto sleighs,
wagons, handcarts and often, their backs.
Recently widowed women gathered up children and babes in arms and made
for safety in America. The travel, however, was anything but swift and sure.
Recent and continuing rains made the wagon trails boggy and
muddy. People slogged along in the
sucking muck. Rivers were raging waters that made each crossing a horrifying
event. Horse thieves, claiming to be
with Army, would steal the animals. Indian war parties struck families that
fled, as well as those who stayed behind, kidnapping women and children.
Conrad Juergans and his very pregnant wife Mary stayed
behind, thinking Santa Anna’s army would pass north of them, which they did.
Shortly afterward, though, a party of Indian braves attacked the cabin. Conrad was injured, but managed to escape to
the woods. Mary and her two young sons,
however were taken captive and forced to trek toward the Red River valley. Three months later, Mary appeared at a
trading post within Indian Territory. Her family arrived and paid the $300
bounty for her release. She had given
birth to a daughter while in captivity (am not sure if she had her daughter
with her or not). The fate of her two sons is unknown.
One excellent source of the Runaway Scrape was documented by Dr. Pleasant W. Rose, who lived with his family near Stafford Point. In 1900, his daughter, Dilue Rose Harris
published an account of the Runaway Scrape in the Quarterly of the Texas State Historical Association. While
recalling her own memories as an eleven-year-old at the time of the Scrape,
Dilue relied heavily on her father’s journal, which by 1900 had been lost for
some time, but that she had read it multiple times before its disappeared. The events of the Rose family were typical of
other fleeing families.
Dilue recalled that the family quickly put belongings into a
sleigh and traveled eastward with several other local families. The family’s
hardship began at the Trinity River. Though the family made it across the
treacherous river, the last trip made by the ferry boat, it swamped badly,
leaving them stranded for several hours in the middle of the river. Finally
they were rescued, but their river ordeal was only one of many faced by the evacuees.
W.G. Dewees recalled another river crossing. “There were
about seventy-five wagons in the company and on arriving at the river we found
no way to cross; the river was up to the top of the banks and there was no
ferry.” Eventually, two large pine trees were cut down “so their length might
be sufficient to reach across the river…that we might place the wagons on them
and pull them across…with a rope.”
At Cedar Bayou, Emily Bryan Perry took charge of a situation
when the cart of a woman and two small girls became stuck in the middle of the
stream, efficiently blocking everyone else’s progress. Emily handed off her new born baby, climbed
down from her wagon and waded out to the woman. She spoke softly but firmly to
the woman, encouraging her to try again.
“Up Buck! Up Ball! Do your duty!”
the woman yelled as she cracked the whip over the oxen’s head. The oxen
strained hard, and managed to pull the cart free.
Dilue Rose reported seeing “children falling from the wagons
which still kept on leaving the children behind, till another wagon came along
and picked them up. Mothers in this manner have been separated from their
children for days, and some for weeks, as the wagons would often take a
different course.” William Fairfax Gary relayed seeing a family that had found a small, unattended infant. The family now had the care of the child,
which they and others took turns carrying.
After a very difficult trip in mud and muck, the Roses finally arrived in Liberty. It was there that Dilue’s little sister died. The rigors of
the escape proved hard, illnesses ran rampant through the groups heading toward
Louisiana, and infants, small children and the elderly were particularly
vulnerable. Many families lost a loved one to such diseases as cholera.
The Roses stayed in Liberty for several weeks and one day
heard what they thought was distant thunder. Instead, it was the sound of
cannon fire. Sam Houston and his troops
had caught up with Santa Anna and his troops. The Battle of San Jacinto could
be heard thirty-five miles away. On April 21, 1836, in less than fifteen
minutes, Sam Houston overtook the Mexican Army and forced their surrender. Texas had won the war.
When word of the defeat of Santa Anna’s army reached the
evacuees, they made their way back homes.
Some were burned to the ground, others had been ransacked, while others
were found to be as they’d been left. The Roses returned home to find the hogs
running wild. Her father’s bookcase had been toppled and his medical books and
supplies scattered on the ground, the hogs sleeping on them. Emily Perry’s plantation
near Peach Point didn’t fare any better. Although the house was not robbed, it
was in disarray. “The hens had taken possession of beds, closet, bureaus,”
Emily’s cousin wrote. On the upside,
there was an abundant supply of eggs.
In Women and the Texas
Revolution, edited by Mary L Scheer, it says “The Runaway Scrape occurred
in several stages. It began as an evacuation, starting South of San Antonio in
February before it spread eastward to Gonzalez and Victoria early in the
following month, culminating in civilian flight from the Colorado and Brazos
valleys in mid- to late March.” (pp 159). Thousands, mostly women and children
joined the flight away from the Mexican Army. It was an event that would define
their life and the memories outlasted most of the hardships.
Works cited:
In Women and the Texas
Revolution, edited by Mary L Scheer ISBN 978-57441-469-1
Texas Monthly - http://www.texasmonthly.com/content/texas-primer-runaway-scrape
Anna Kathryn Lanier
Romance Author, A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE
Romance Author, A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE
http://aklanier.com/
Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. ~Doug Ivester
