"Well," continued their informant, "the siege of the Alamo began on the 23d of February, 1836, and lasted for thirteen days. Over 200 shells were thrown into the fort in the first twenty-four hours, but not a man was injured by them, while the Texan sharp-shooters picked off a great number of the Mexicans. Santa Anna made several assaults, but was driven back each time, and it is believed that he lost fully 1500 men in the siege. On the morning of the 6th of March a final assault was made, and the fort was captured; every man was killed in the fighting excepting six who surrendered, and among the six was the famous Col. David Crockett. Santa Anna ordered all of them to be cut to pieces, and Crockett fell with a dozen sword-wounds after his own weapons had been given up. Colonel Travis, who commanded the fort, was also killed, and so was Colonel Bowie, who was ill in bed at the time, and was shot where he lay. He was the inventor of the bowie-knife, which has been famous through the West and South-west for a good many years. Only three persons were spared from death, a woman, a child, and a servant."
"How long was that before the battle of San Jacinto?" one of the youths asked.
GEN. SAM HOUSTON, THE LIBERATOR OF TEXAS.
"Less than seven weeks," was the reply, "and never was there a more complete victory than at that battle. Gen. Sam Houston retreated slowly, and was followed by the Mexican army. He burned a bridge behind his enemies, and suddenly attacking them on the afternoon of April 21st, he killed half their number and captured nearly all the rest. The war-cry of the Texans was 'Remember the Alamo! remember Goliad!' and maddened by the recollection of the cruelties of the Mexicans, they fought like tigers, and carried everything before them. Santa Anna, disguised as a soldier, was captured the next day; Houston had hard work to save him from the fury of the Texans, but he was saved, and lived to fight again ten years later. But the battle of San Jacinto ended the war, and made Texas independent of Mexico."
A ride of a hundred and fifty miles to the south-west from San Antonio brought our friends to Laredo, on the banks of the Rio Grande, the dividing line between the United States and Mexico. The ride was through a thinly settled country, devoted principally to grazing, and there were few objects of interest along the route. The time was varied with looking from the windows of the car, with the perusal of books, and by conversation concerning the Texan war for independence, to which the thoughts of the party had naturally turned through their visit to the Alamo at San Antonio.
"Texas was a province of Mexico," said the Doctor, "in the early part of the present century, the Spaniards having established missions and stations there at the same time that the French established missions and military posts in Louisiana. The territorial boundaries between France and Spain were never very clearly defined; the two countries were in a constant quarrel about their rights, and when we purchased the Louisiana territory from France we inherited the dispute about the boundaries. Adventurers from various parts of the United States poured into the country, and the population was more American than Mexican; there were many respectable men among the American settlers, but there was also a considerable proportion of what might be called 'a bad lot.'"
"I have read somewhere," said Frank, "a couplet which is said to have been composed by a resident of the country fifty years ago, and to have given the State its name.
"'When every other land rejects us,
This is the land that freely takes us.'"