“He spoke no more, and a few minutes after, died. Poor Kate! who will tell this to thee?”
March fifth: “Pop, pop, pop! Bom, bom, bom! throughout the day—no time for memorandums now—go ahead. Liberty and independence forever!”
David Crockett
* * * * *
So ends Davy’s journal. Before dawn of the sixth a final assault of the Mexican force carried the lost Alamo, and at sunrise there were only six of the defenders left alive. Colonel Crockett was found with his back to the wall, with his broken rifle and his bloody knife. Before him lay Thimblerig, his dagger to the hilt in a Mexican’s throat, his death grip fastened in the dead man’s hair.
The six prisoners were brought before Santa Anna, who stood surrounded by his staff amid the ruins. General Castrillon saluted the president. “Sir, here are six prisoners I have taken alive; how shall I dispose to them?”
“Have I not told you before how to dispose of them—why do you bring them to me?”
The officers of the staff fell upon the prisoners with their swords, but like a tiger Davy sprang at Santa Anna’s throat. Then he fell with a dozen swords through his body.
Up with your banner, Freedom.