HE EXPECTS IT OF ME.
I have to tell him there is no prospect of reinforcements, that he has but to die in defending his cause and that I came to die with him." Then bidding farewell to his companions, mounted on a cream colored horse, through the lines of the enemy and amid showers of bullets, this gallant son of South Carolina rode to his death. The gates of the fortress opened to receive him and he presented himself to his chief. This is the noblest incident in history of stern adherence to solemn duty without regard to personal danger. On the morning of March 6th, a general assault took place. Slowly the noble Texans were driven back until inside the church they made their last stand. No quarter was asked, none granted. Each Texan died desperately in hand-to-hand conflict with overpowering numbers. Col. Jas. Bowie, sick and unable to rise, was bayoneted in bed. Col. David Crocket died amid a circle of slaughtered foes. Travis fell upon the wall when he was giving inspiration to his men. When the last Texan died, the floor was nearly ankle deep in blood and ghastly corpses were heaped everywhere. By order of Santa Anna, the bodies were piled in heaps and burned. On the monument to these immortal dead, Texas writes an inscription so great it makes the heart stand still: "Thermopylae had its messenger of defeat—the Alamo had none."
"I am sorry for you for