342                             TEXAS  AND  MEXICO.
I had intended it, but could not accomplish my design.
The hangings of the altar were constantly raised up. I
was between two sentinels ; and two companies of lancers,
blunderbuss in hand, stood guard, one opposite the door,
the other behind the wall, against which rested the
altar.    I confined myself to my sad and solemn duties.
The following morning being Sunday, the holy
Viaticum was taken to the Catholic prisoners. The
streets were strewn with flowers and branches — flags
floated from the windoAvs, garlands of stuff and silk
handkerchiefs hung from the houses along which the
Holy Sacrament was to pass. The cortege left the
church, preceded by a military band playing a dead
march, and the people followed praying aloud. From
the depths of the prison I heard the plaintive sounds of
the music and the murmuring prayers of the multitude.
My heart sank ; I felt weak.    The prisoners knelt by my
a promise of escape. General Avalos was to withdraw the guard,
under one pretext or other, during the night, and to give the priest
time to bore a hole in the prison wall, through which the prisoners
might escape. The priest, God love him, performed his task with a
crowbar. A little before daylight, the work being finished, after his
labouring at it all night, he passed into the outer court, the prisoners
behind him, full of the hope of again seeing their dear parents and
friends. They found a guard of fifty soldiers, instead of ten (the
usual number), outside, who forced them again into their prison.
The priest then called on Avalos, but was refused admittance. The
poor fellows were taken out at five o'clock in the morning, and shot
down before 300 soldiers, The sentence specified eight o'clock. They
have been thus deprived of the last three hours of their life, which
doubtless they were anxious to consecrate to God. Such facts and
murders have raised a universal shout of disgust in this town. .
,   .   .   .   .    General Avalos was burned in effigy yesterday.
" P. S. The prisoners were denied the last rites of religion —
extreme unction.   The priest's name is Abbé Domenech."