In Texas with Davy Crockett

by John T. McIntyre

Travis, while the way was yet open, sent out a message to the Texas government asking that aid be sent them. All the time the force of the Mexicans was growing larger. Colonel Fannin set out from Goliad with three hundred men and four pieces of artillery, to the aid of the Texans at the Alamo. But he had little provision, his ammunition wagon broke down, and he hadn’t enough oxen to get his cannon across the river. Fannin at length gave up the attempt and returned to Goliad. However, a bold leader, at the head of thirty-two daring followers, arrived on the night of March first and slipped through the Mexican lines. This was Captain Smith and his little command from Gonzales; and the defenders welcomed them with cheers.

On March fourth Travis sent off a last message to the Texan authorities; this was carried by the brave Captain Smith, who set his comrades’ lives above his own safety. The message said in part:

“... although we may be sacrificed to the vengeance of a Gothic enemy, the victory will cost that enemy so dear that it will be worse than a defeat.... A blood red flag waves from the church of Bexer and in the camp above us, in token that the war is one of vengeance against rebels. These threats have had no influence upon my men but to make all fight with desperation and with that high souled courage which characterizes the patriot who is willing to die for his country; liberty and his own honor; God and Texas; victory or death!”

On the day following the sending of this message, Santa Anna assembled his troops for an assault upon the Alamo; but it was not until the succeeding day that the attack was delivered. Twenty-five hundred troops were divided into four columns commanded by Colonels Duque, Romero and Morales; they had bars, axes and scaling ladders. All the Mexican cavalry were drawn up around the mission to see that no one escaped.

Early in the morning the four columns, at the sound of the bugle, dashed forward; the Texan cannon and the long rifles spat death in their faces. The column under Duque recoiled from the north wall, their commander badly wounded. East and west the attack also failed; the Mexicans swarmed in a shouting mob upon the north side. Their officers shouted and struck at them, forcing them to scale the walls. Once more the sleet of bullets from the American rifles came forth, and once more the attackers fell back. But again the officers forced them to the walls; this time they scaled it and fell over it in crowds. By sheer weight of numbers they forced the Texans across the convent yard and into the hospital.

The captured cannon were turned upon the ’dobe walls of the hospital and smashed them in; a howitzer, loaded with musket balls and broken iron, was fired into the building and the Texans fell like sheep. Then a desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued. Crockett, Travis and Bonham fought like the heroes of old. Knife, pistol and clubbed rifle played their parts. Jim Bowie had been wounded while defending the wall early in the fight. He lay upon a bed, coolly firing one pistol after another as the Mexicans showed themselves. But he was finally killed by a musket shot.

A DESPERATE HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICT ENSUED

From room to room fought the Texans, contesting every step of the way; the proof of their desperation is the great number of Mexicans who fell in this bloody close-quarters fight; forty-five bodies were counted in one spot after all was over.

Travis fell here, and so did the brave Colonel Bonham. With his loved rifle clubbed in his hands and with many a foeman stretched beside him, fell that gallant Tennessean, Davy Crockett, defending a doorway. Like fiends, the Mexicans, urged by the bloody minded Santa Anna, stabbed and shot, and when the fight was done, every Texan in the Alamo was dead.