The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 66, July 1962 - April, 1963 Page: 563
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Notes and Documents
in which the baggage and camp equipage of the Mexicans was carried,
and in one of these Salezar and the redoubtable Don Jesus, were
snugly stowed away.
The early hours of the morning were colder than any that proceded
them, as the biting wind from the mountains had a full sweep over
The first streak of daylight had just appeared in the eastern
horizon when a man named Griffith" declared his inability to proceed
any farther. He had ridden a mule until his faculties were nearly
paralyzed by cold, when he jumped off and again undertook to walk.
Too weak, however, and too lame to travel, he sank to the ground.
A soldier told him to rise, or he would obey his order, given by
Salezar, to put all to death who could not keep up, Griffith made one
feeble, but ineffectual attempt. The effort was too much, he cast an
imploring look on the soldier, while doing so the brutal miscreant
knocked his brains out with a musket. His blanket was then stripped
from him, as a reward for his murderer, his ears were cut off, and his
body left by the road side.
And how, it will be asked, did we feel while such acts like these
were enacted in our midst? We could not tell who of our companions
might next be also so cruelly murdered.
It was about 9 o'clock in the morning that the waters of the Rio
Grande could be descerned, which in its course had swept around the
bend (the desert) a distance of more than one hundred and sixty
miles. With hurried and eager steps we all pressed forward, for we
knew that now, at least, we were to have food, water and sleep. We
had now been forty on the march; in this time, although we had
traveled ninety miles, we had not full five hours sleep.
As we arrived at the camp ground I shed the first tears, tears of
joy that I had been enabled to endure that trip, and also tears,
because we had no means to revenge ourselves on our cruel captors.
Salezar ordered an ox to be killed, this beast had to travel with us the
whole route through the desert, the readers can imagine what miser-
able beef he furnished. I swapped my ration with a soldier for a pint
of meal, stirred it up with cold water and drank it down. I was too
tired to wait till the beef could be broiled on coals.
As I lay there tired unto death and oblivious to all surroundings,
why did not death embrace me in its cold folds and wafts me to
happier realms? It would have been mercy to me, for I afterwards
suffered for five months of pain and sickness, as the reader will learn
It astonishes me even now, that I, was so young, small of stature,
Here’s what’s next.
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Texas State Historical Association. The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 66, July 1962 - April, 1963, periodical, 1963; Austin, Texas. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth101196/m1/603/?rotate=270: accessed April 24, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Texas State Historical Association.