“Remember the
Alamo”
The
Texan Insurrection of 1836
“Who
will join old Ben Milam in storming the Alamo?”
The speaker was little past forty, not old
as a peaceful and civilised generation would have reckoned him.
But he and the men who listened lived in troubles times, in which
the experience of many years was crowded into one.
They were American frontiersmen, mainly of Anglo-Saxon race, who
had drifted over from the Southern United States on to the limitless
prairies of the Mexican province of Texas.
And they were now in full revolt against the authority of General
Santa Ana, the President of the Mexican Republic.
Ben Milam was a good sample of his class.
Born in Kentucky, with rifle shooting and horsemanship for his
sole education, he fought before he was out of his teens, with General
Jackson against the British forces at New Orleans.
Then he went trading for several years with the wild Indians
around the headwaters of the Texan rivers.
When Mexico rose against Spain, he was among the Revolutionists.
After the independence, he took part in the first of the many
uprisings against the newly established government.
Being captured, he served his time in prison until another
revolution freed him and gave him an extensive grant of lands in Texas.
The Texans had now risen in their turn.
It was the year 1835, and first blood had been shed on the 29th
of September. Ben Milam was
once more captured, and hurried off in a caravan of prisoners toward the
city of Mexico, a thousand miles away.
At Monterey he escaped, and finding a horse, rode back alone six
hundred miles to rejoin his comrades.
On the 9th of October he issued, way worn and
triumphant, from the mezquit where the little band of Texans were
preparing an attack on a Mexican post.
He was in time to share in their victory.
A month later a provisional government was organised, and
reinforcements of sharpshooters from the Mississippi valley arrived
daily. With December the
insurgents moved forward to San Antonio, the chief place of Texas.
It was there the Mexican general Cos had concentrated his troops.
In case of need, he could shut himself up behind the walls of the
fortified Alamo mission to the northeast of the town.
It was the Alamo, which Ben Milam proposed
storming first, but the leaders decided to begin by the town.
They entered it successfully on the 5th of December,
advancing under shelter from house to house by breaking through the
walls between, instead of trying to force their way down the open
street. Two days later Ben
Milam was shot through the head as he crossed an unprotected space.
But the next day General Cos took to the Alamo, and on the 11th
surrendered. He marched
away on parole with all his troops to the loyal provinces across the Rio
Grande, and there was not a Mexican soldier left on the soil of Texas.
The heroic days of the Alamo had only just
begun. Santa Ana at once
made ready all his forces to crush out the rebellion.
What Thermopylae was to the Greeks against the Persians, this
mission fortress was to be in the long conflict between Anglo-American
immigration and Spanish-American rule.
I.
-The Struggle of Manifest Destiny
The map of North America in
this year 1835 had a very different look from that which it has today.
The United States, instead of stretching across the continent
from ocean to ocean, were stopped short not far west of the Mississippi
river by the boundary line of Spanish America.
This ran gradually north and west from the northern coast of the
Gulf of Mexico. Besides the
entire present State of Texas, it took in a part of what is now Kansas
on the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains, all the elevated plateau
which is now divided among New Mexico and Arizona, Colorado, Utah, and
Nevada, and on the Pacific coast that empire of boundless wealth in
itself, California. The rights of Spain over the immense territory were conceded
by the United States in a treaty ratified only a few months before the
former country lost forever her possessions on the North American
continent. The independent
Republic of Mexico, by the revolution of 1821, succeeded to her claims.
Spain had long recognised the danger to
these northernmost provinces from the continual advance westward of
“settlers” from the United States.
To avert it, she first tried the policy, which European nations
are now renewing in other quarters of the globe by constituting neutral
or “buffer” States between the rival territories.
In the year 1800 she made a cession to France of Louisiana.
It had been originally colonised by the French, and separated the
United States along the whole southern course of the Mississippi from
the Spanish province of Texas. The
cession was made on the express condition that Louisiana should never be
turned over to the United States.
Three years later, Napoleon, who was
conquering too many lands in Europe to remember his promises in America,
sold Louisiana outright to the United States.
The question of the boundary at once came up, and another effort
was made to constitute a buffer. Political
negotiations failed, and by 1806 Spain had 1,500 soldiers watching the
hardy militiamen of Louisiana. War
nearly broke out; but the two opposing generals, on their own
responsibility, agreed that a broad band of territory west of the Sabine
River should be considered neutral ground.
Their government accepted this arrangement for the time being.
Spain-too late in the day, as it proved-now
adopted the policy of colonising the desolate regions, which she claimed
to the exclusion of all others. At
that time there was in Texas a settled population of only 7,000 souls
for 7,000 square leagues of land. It
was made up of Spanish and French “Creoles” (the name given to men
of European race born in America), of “Anglo-Americans,” as those
from the United States were called, and of a few civilised Indians and
half breeds. All these were
huddled around San Antonio, far inland toward Mexico to the south,
Espiritu Santo (or Goliad) on the gulf, and Nacogdoches in the north.
The two former settlements were the scenes of heroic fighting
when the final revolution came; the latter was the general rendezvous of
immigrants from the United States. Besides these, there were a few military poets and about
14,000 wild Indians. Some
of the Americans (to use the name which has been attributed to the
settlers from the united States) were pursuing agriculture under
difficulties on their ranches. Others,
like Ben Milam, belonged to a sharp shooting generation of Westerners
drawn hither by the chase of buffaloes and wild horses, or by mere
restlessness and love of adventure.
The lawful trade of the province was with the cities of Mexico
many days weary journey to the south.
The contraband trade, by the easier and more profitable way of
New Orleans, flourished more, and consisted I the exchange of horses and
mules for good silver and gold.
Until the end of the Spanish domination
Texas had all the experiences of a troubled borderland.
In 1811 Zambrano, the priest of San Antonio, captured for the
Spanish authorities the embassy and money which the revolutionary priest
Hidalgo was sending to the united States for men and arms, in his
abortive attempt to secure the independence of Mexico.
Two years later the same warrior cura decoyed an expedition
composed of 850 Americans, 1,700 Mexicans, and 1,600 Indians into a fan
ambuscade, from which only 93 Americans escaped.
The pirate Lafitte took possession of the bay of Galveston, which
furnished a safe harbour for privateers and slave traders with the
southern United States. In
the latter, popular feeling ran high against the treaty, which confirmed
Spain in her rights over Texas. A
favourite officer of General Jackson led 300-armed men into the country
and declared it independent in the name of its few American citizens.
He was easily defeated, but the repeated disturbances had done
their work. A few months
later, when the Mexican revolution triumphed, only 4,000 civilised
inhabitants were left in the whole province, with a roving population of
border ruffians on the north and wild Indians to the west.
The last act of Spain had been to poen the
county in a measure to agriculture colonisation from the United States.
It was this policy, cautiously preserved in for a dozen years by
the new Mexican Republic and then suddenly reversed with a veritable
persecution of the American settlers, which brought about the final
conflict.
Moses Austin, a New Englander of education
who had been a successful mine-projector in Virginia and Missouri,
obtained a grant in 1820, through the good offices of the alcalde, or
mayor, of San Antoni. This
was the Baron de Bastro, who served as a young soldier of fortune under
Frederick the Great, and then wandered in the love of adventure and
science as far as this obscure colony of Spain.
Moses Austin died, and his son Stephen was delayed in the proper
working of his grant by the outbreak of the revolution.
For the next two years Mexico played at government by an elected
emperor. At last General Santa Ana established by force a republic on
the model of the United States. He
renewed the grant of lands to Austin, whom he named civil governor,
administrator or justice, and commander of the militia, with power to
make on the Indians, subject only to the Mexican governor and general
commanding in Texas.
In
1842 the 300 first families of settlers arrived.
The grant allowed one square league to each family, with 177
acres of tillage. It was surveyed by Bastrop, who did not live to know the fate
of a colony, which he had laboured sincerely to plant in the interests
of the Mexican Republic. In
1825 permission was given to bring in 500 more families, and soon other
extensive grants were made to American immigrants.
By 1827, there were 10,000 of these new inhabitants of Texas
living widely separate on their ranches and developing the natural
resources of the country. In
1830 the civilised population of the province rose to 20,000.
These newcomers believed in the manifest
destiny of their race-as their favourite statesman, Henry clay,
expressed it in the United States Congress-to occupy the vast regions
which the Spanish-Americans seemed neither able nor willing to colonise
and bring under settled law and order.
For the most part they sympathised with the intense desire of the
slaveholders of the Southern United States to extend their system of
Negro slavery to the vast territory, and so strengthen their own
position against the abolitionist North.
They were not inclined to submit tamely to government annoyance
from Mexico, for which they had neither respect nor fear.
The Mexican Republic soon recognised that, in peopling this
desolate province of the frontier, it had simply americanised large
portions of its territory.
President Bustamante, who came into office
in 1829, said publicly that the only law recognised by these
frontiersmen of the two Republics was la razon del rifle (musket right). He expected Austin, who seems loyally to have fulfilled his
obligations as a Mexican official, and who protested loudly against the
agitation of the “Nacogdoches madmen.”
The next year Alaman, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, introduced
laws, which excluded all further immigration from the United States into
Texas. Under pretext of
levying taxes and controlling the ports, he sent troops to a dozen
places. These soldiers were
mainly convicts liberated from the Mexican prison, and their presence
was not calculated to appease the exasperation of a people who had so
long been a law to them. Only
the settlements of Austin and two others were recognised by the
government as existing on a legal basis.
An irritating attempt was also made to
enforce other colonising laws, which weighed heavily on thousands of
American settlers. It was
exacted of them that they should profess the Roman Catholic religion,
like the other citizens of the Republic.
Where religion counted for so little, this requirement ended in a
mere formality. A more serious matter was the positive discrimination made in
favour of native Mexican settlers.
The Americans, who now made up the immense majority of the
population of Texas, were not like the old fugitives of the frontier. They were serious minded citizens, intent on working their
land and inclined to resent any interference with their liberties.
Their growing discontent was shown in partial insurrections
breaking out in sympathy with the constant conflict of parties all
through the Mexican Republic.
The Federal system of the United States, in
which each separate State is free and independent to legislate for its
own internal affairs, and subject to a central government only in what
is of common interest to all the States, could not work well in a
country so unsettled and ill organised as Mexico.
Bustamante was accused of encroaching on the rights of the
frontier States; and Coahuila, to which Texas officially belonged, rose
against him. Arms were smuggled into Texas, and an outbreak was imminent.
Bradburn, an English sea captain who had been pirate, privateer,
and slave-trader, was sent by the President to put the coast under
martial law. Suddenly Santa
Ana, who for thirty years to come was to be President or professional
Revolutionist by turns, declared against Bustamante. He had the soldiers of the frontier on his side, and the
Texans, to be rid of the intolerable stress, consented also. The troops went off to aid Santa Ana, as the settlers had
hoped, and the latter had a breathing space in which to plan their
future action.
In 1833, Austin called a Convention, which
demanded the rights of Statehood and Home Rule for Texas. Bearing these resolutions, which protested loyalty to Santa
Ana’s own constitution of 1824, he set out to meet the latter, which
had triumphed in the Civil War. To
his surprise, he found that the new President, after winning his office
in the name of State rights, was already turning back to the party of
the Centralisers, who were more powerful to support him in his arbitrary
rule. Santa Ana received Austin without giving satisfaction to the
Texan demands. Time passed,
and in 1834 he suddenly ordered that Austin should be thrown into
prison. The news only
strengthened the party of agitation in Texas, and Austin wrote in vain
from his confinement in the capital to implore those settlers who had
fixed homes and led laborious lives “between plough handles” not to
give eat to dangerous counsels.
Santa Ana, meanwhile, marched steadily with
an armed force through the States, which held out against his
centralising policy. From
Zacatecas, where he won after a bitter struggle, he sent General Cos to
dissolve the Legislature of Coahuila and Texas, and to take up a
position to watch the American settlers in the latter province.
The governor o the city of Mexico joined with the governor of
Coahuila in urging a coalition of States against this dictatorship of
Santa Ana. All over the
territory of the Republic there were constant small outbreaks in favour
of State rights. Santa Ana,
aided by the rich religious corporation and land proprietors, was able
to overcome all opposition. On
the 31st July 1835, he ordered that the revolting governors
and the leaders of the Norte-Americanos should be seized. There were also persistent rumours that he was sending troops
to dispossess the American settlers of their lands.
The Americans of Texas had now to make
their choice-either to submit to Santa Ana or to fight for their
independence. They were
tired of the unceasing revolution of Mexicans among themselves; and they
felt a general antipathy of race against the Mexican minority in the
territory, which their own superior enterprise had developed.
Besides, they were constantly encouraged by promises of
assistance from and speculators and slaveholders in the United States.
At last Santa Ana deemed it prudent to
release Austin, with specious promises that might allay the growing
discontent. The two Mexican
governors had already joined the Texans; and this time the fighting
priest Zambrano declared against the authorities of Republican Mexico
just as he had before supported the Spanish rule.
In September, after an imprisonment of many months, Austin
arrived in Texas, only to find “all disorganised, all in anarchy, and
threatened with immediate hostilities.” General Cos marched forward so San Antonio; and, on the 29th
of the month, 168 Texan volunteers fought at Gonzalez with 100 of the
Mexican troops. On the 4th
October Austin issued a proclamation against military despotism in
behalf of State rights.
Through all the succeeding months the
Texans still fought under the tricolour flag of the Mexican Republic,
protesting their willingness to submit to the Federal Constitution of
1824. But General Santa Ana
was unable to undo by force of arms the manifold blunders of his
centralising policy. The
Alamo was to decide the struggle of manifest destiny in favour of Texan
independence.
II.
– The Storming of the Alamo
On the 22nd
of February 1836, Santa Ana arrived at San Antonio with the first
brigade of the Mexican army, which he was commanding in person.
He had had a painful march of seven days across the plains.
The other brigades were following close behind.
It was now the turn of the Texan troops to retire to the Alamo.
Their commander, Colonel Travis, had only 145 men, and little
provision against an energetic siege.
But when Santa Ana summoned him to surrender, he answered by a
cannon shot. The Mexican
General at once hoisted the red flag, as a signal that no quarter would
be given.
The Alamo, in spite of the peaceful purpose
of its original building, had been, made strong enough to resist any
attack except from artillery. Built
in 1744, it was the last of a line of Franciscan missions established
along the San Antonio River for the conversion of the wild Indians.
The neighbourhood of the Spanish military post was not sufficient
to guarantee the friars and their converts against sudden raids; so they
began by enclosing an oblong space, from two to three acres in extent,
in the midst of the cottonwood trees (Alamo-a kind of poplar), which
gave the name to the mission. The
Mission Square, as it was called, was more than 450 feet long from north
to south and 150 feet wide. Its
wall was 8 feet high, and nearly a yard thick.
On the east side was the convent, a two storey building of adobe
(sun dried clay), 191 feet long and 18 feet deep.
In front was the convent yard, 186 feet deep, and surrounded by
another strong wall. At the
southeast corner was the church, with walls of hewn stone 4 feet thick
and 22 ½ feet high. In the southern wall of the Mission Square was the great
gateway, beside a one-storey prison 115 feet long by 17 feet deep.
Outside the wall a ditch and stockade went from the prison to the
corner of the church. There
was no lack of shelter from which the sharp shooting Texans might fire
their guns, so long as the Mexican artillery made no breach in the outer
walls; even then a retreating fight might be kept up through the various
enclosures.
The friars had disappeared with the Spanish
domination, and the mission had since been used for military purposes.
In the roofless church were installed the magazine and soldiers
quarters. The friar’s
apartment in the convent building had also been divided up into armoury
and barracks. There was
plenty of water from two acequias, or waterways, which passed under the
walls, one at the northwest corner of the Mission Square and the other
to the east of the church. To
strengthen the position, fourteen guns had been mounted at different
parts of the walls. The
three heaviest pointed north, south, and east from the church.
There were two for the stockade, two for the gate of the Mission
Square beside the prison, one for each of the corners of the square, and
two each for the exposed walls to north and west.
The more fortification of the place promised well against any
ordinary attack.
The lack of foresight and union, which is
common to raids and revolutions led by adventurers, destroyed these
advantages of defence. On
the 14th of February Colonel Travis had already complained to
General Sam Houston, the commander-in-chief of the Texan army, that he
had been left destitute in face of the threatened attack.
Several hundred men and the greater part of the ammunition had
been withdrawn for distant expeditions, which could not even turn aside
the march forward of the Mexican army.
The provisional government, which had been
organised in November, was not working well.
Austin’s loyal policy had been put aside; but the new governor
and the council quarrelled among themselves.
The commander-in-chief was himself little more than an improvised
soldier, and was powerless to take independent action.
When the governor remonstrated about the unprotected state of the
Alamo, the Council refused to listen.
Time was frittered away in the oratory, which pleases the popular
assemblies of new countries, or in mutual recrimination and vaunts of
personal bravery.
Travis himself was careless about the
service of his scouts, and knew little of the real strength and
organisation of the enemy’s forces.
It is also supposed that he had little control over his men, who
were accustomed to the reckless skirmishing of the frontier and had
never faced a disciplined body of troops.
At the last moment, when the coming of Santa Ana was already
forcing them to retire from San Antonio, they hurriedly stocked the
Alamo with the scant provisions, which came to hand.
For food they had to rely on twenty beeves and eighty bushels of
Indian corn. Their supply
of ammunition was more unsatisfactory still.
Santa Ana, while waiting for the remainder
of his troops, was unable to complete the siege of the Alamo.
On the 24th of February Colonel Travis sent out a
final desperate appeal for help across the prairies.
The messenger succeeded in reaching Gonzalez, where the first
battle of the revolution had been fought.
Captain Smith, with more than thirty men, responded to the
appeal; and, at three in the morning of the 1st of March,
they made their entrance into the Alamo. Besides the soldiers of the garrison, they found the wives of
two of the officers with their two children, Mexican women, and the
Negro boy of Travis.
The second in command bore a name of might
in frontier warfare. It was
James Bowie, the eldest of three brothers, the second of whom was the
inventor of the long bladed “bowie-knife” used by the hunters and
desperadoes of the plains. They
had been engaged in buying Negro slaves for the Southern United States
from the men of Lafitte, the pirate.
When the pirate’s haunts were broken up, James Bowie remained
to take due part in the Texan struggles.
On the 27th of October he had already fought a bloody
battle, with ninety-one others of his kind, against four hundred
Mexicans. With him was Davy
Crockett, who is remembered as one of the earliest of the “American
humorists, “ but whose share in the tragedy of the Alamo should not be
forgotten. He was a tall,
powerful, fearless hunter from Tennesse; Irish by descent, with all the
wit and careless courage of his race, and a thorough frontiersman,
trained to use the rifle from his childhood.
He had been elected once to the United States Congress; but he
had not the sonorous eloquence required by his half-primitive
constituents, and they choose another for the post when his term of
office was over. Shouldering
his rifle in disgust, he made his way to the Texan frontier, just in
time for the last adventure.
General Santa Ana at once began work by
setting up two batteries of artillery in the alameda (cottonwood grove)
by the river. He also
disposed five entrenched camps to command the mission from different
points and guard against all attempts to force a way out.
Then he began throwing shells, and by the 3rd of March
the Texans counted two hundred, which had fallen inside their works.
Not a man had been injured and little effect had been produced on
the walls. On their side,
they had picked off a number of Mexicans who showed themselves within
range of their sharp shooting rifles.
But it had already become necessary for them to economise their
small store of ammunition. Moreover,
their strength of endurance was sorely tried.
Besides the skirmishing by day, they were harassed by constant
fears of an attack by night.
On the 4th March, the third
Mexican brigade arrived. This
brought Santa Ana’s forces to the number of 5,000 men, well trained
and organised. The next day
was passed in making ready to storm the Alamo.
Two thousand five hundred men were chosen for the attacking
force, divided into four columns, which were to engage the garrison on
every side at once. At the
head of one of these columns Santa Ana placed General Cos, who had
broken his parole and marched back to revenge his own recent defeat on
this spot. All the columns
were supplied with ladders, crowbars, and axes.
The cavalry was stationed around, so as to cut off every chance
of escape.
The next day (March 6th) was
Sunday. At four o’clock
in the morning the Mexican columns took their positions.
They advanced in silence, but the strained senses of the besieged
could hear their doom drawing nigh amid the darkness.
Suddenly the bugle sounded, and the Mexicans made a first rush
forward. The twelve cannons
and all the rifles of the garrison spoke together, and the assailants
fell back in disorder. On
the north side, their leader had been wounded, leaving his men in
confusion. The officers
rallied their troops, and again drove them forward to the foot of the
walls; but they could not scale them.
Then a united attack was made from the north, and again the Texan
fire wrought havoc and carnage in the dense mass of troops.
But this last move had brought the attacking party below the
range of the cannon on the walls. The
garrison had fired only two shots, and s mall breach had already been
made in the north wall. Travis, struck in the head, had fallen beside his gun at the
northwest corner.
A third assault was at once made.
This time the wall was scaled and the breach enlarged.
The soldiers poured into the Mission Square faster than the Texan
rifles could pick them off. On
another side one of the columns forced the stockade, and captured the
two guns at that point. The
garrison, who retired to the shelter of the barracks and the church, now
abandoned the outer walls. Soon
their own cannon were directed against them, amid the increasing fire of
the Mexican musketry. Apartment
after apartment was forced. There
ensued a series of hand-to-hand fights, ending in death struggles, as
superior numbers overbore the successive groups of Texans. Through
the convent cells, built for peace, the Mexican soldiers charged with
fixed bayonets, only to be met by the clubbed rifles and flashing knives
of their victims driven to bay. Early
in the fight Bowie had fallen from scaffolding by the walls, and
received such injuries that he was unable to move from the bed where he
had been laid in an upper room of the convent barracks.
But he was still able to die as he had lived, firing the pistols,
which had been placed by his side before he was finally run through with
a bayonet.
The church was the last to be taken.
One of its guns bore directly on the Mexicans in the Mission
Square, and did valiant execution until all who manned it had fallen.
When the church itself was carried, its defenders too fell back
inch-by-inch, fighting till each man was slain.
Davy Crokett was among the last to fall, close to the passage,
which the friars had made long ago to lead from their convent to be
sacred precinct.
In less than an hour all was over.
General Santa Ana, during the fight, had kept to his safe post by
the southern battery. By
his orders the bands played incessantly the shrill deguello-the signal
that no quarter should be given. When
he entered the Alamo at last a search of the now silent rooms brought to
light five men of the garrison who had hidden away.
The under generals begged the President to spare their lives, now
that victory was complete. Santa Ana turned implacably to the soldiers, who ran the
captives through before his eyes. Thus
perished to the last man the defenders of the Alamo.
There were left to tell the tale only the
two widowed American women, with their two children; the Mexican women,
who was torn from Bowie’s side-by-side murderers; and the Negro slave
boy of the dead commander. The
widow of Lieut. Dickenson was given a horse and sent across the plains
with an arrogant proclamation from Santa Ana to the Texan rebels,
summoning them to surrender at discretion.
The inhabitants of San Antonio-Mexicans and
Americans alike-asked to leave to bury the dead bodies of the Texan
victims of the massacre. Santa
Ana, following up his barbarous policy, refused, and ordered that the
corpse should be burned. They
were heaped together in layers, with wood and dry brush between.
One hundred and eighty-two bodies were counted before the torch
was applied. Under cover of
the night, men of San Antonio gathered up the ashes and few bones, which
were all that remained of the little garrison.
A year later these were buried reverently in one coffin near the
Alamo, which was left standing as a memorial of Texan independence, now
definitely won.
On
the Mexican side, Santa Ana gave a lying account of his victory,
reporting the number of the Texans at 600, and assigning only 1,400 to
his own attacking columns. Of
these he admitted only 70 killed and 300 wounded. His more truthful secretary, when the speedy reverses of his
master unseated his lips, gave numbers, which are confirmed, from other
sources. 5,000 Mexicans, of
whom 2,500 engaged in the attack, had besieged One hundred and
eighty-two Texans, who were slain to the last man.
Of the latter, 300 were killed on the spot, and 100 afterwards
died of wounds. The Alcade
of San Antonio, who was charged with the burial of the Mexican dead,
thought even this estimate far too low.
The first news of the siege had roused the
Texan authorities to action. On
the 2nd of March the Convention proclaimed the absolute
independence of Texas as a nation.
On the 11th of the month, General Houston, who was
still without news from the Alamo, arrived at Gonzalez with 400 men.
The next day Mrs. Dickenson, worn out with emotion and fatigue,
rode into camp. In a single
village twenty women learned that they were widows like her.
Houston, panic-stricken, retreated, after burning the town lest
it should fall into the hands of the enemy.
Santa Ana marched on Goliad by the coast.
Texans could not yet believe in the military power of the
despised “greasers,” and several hundred men fell into his hands.
He again ordered a massacre, but this time it was after surrender
had been made. There could be no further doubt of his policy of
extermination.
The triumphant army continued its march
northward toward the heart of the American settlements.
At San Jacinto, near Galveston, the Texan troops at last ventured
on a pitched battle. Their
training had been accomplished; they entered the fight to the cry of
“Remember the Alamo!”
The
Mexican President, and what remained of his army after the battle, was
taken prisoners. It was
with difficulty that the Texan officers prevented their men from
revenging in kind the massacres of the Alamo and Goliad.
Santa Ana, after the independence of the Texan Republic had been
recognised, was handed over to the Government of the United States, who
restored him to a diminished Mexico.
After ten years, when Texas was definitely to be annexed to the
United States, he was again at the head of the Mexicans.
This war against the whole United States and not, as before, with
the single province of Texas formed the bloody end of the strife begun
at the storming of the Alamo. The
Mexican Republic lost forever its immense northern territory from the
Gulf to the Pacific Ocean.
In 1876 the aged widow of Lieut. Dickenson
revisited the Alamo. She
had seen its heroic defence of the liberties of 30,000 souls; she had
lived to see the State of Texas with a population well on towards
3,000,000. In the State House of Austin, capital city of Texas, on a
monument made of stones of the ruins of the mission fortress, are
inscribed 166 names-all that were known of the men whose death gave the
Anglo-American race eternal reason to remember the Alamo.
Battles
of the Nineteenth Century, By
Archibald Forbes, G.A. Henry,