The faces of the others were so blank that it was evident the word held no meaning for them.
"I didn't much think you would know anything about it," continued their uncle; "for it belongs to American history, which, of course, is not half so important as that of the old Greeks and Romans. The Alamo, then, is, or rather was, an old Spanish mission located in a cottonwood grove that gave it its name—for Alamo means cottonwood—near the San Antonio River in southwestern Texas. On an opposite bank of the stream stood the Mexican town of San Antonio, built of low flat-roofed adobe or stone houses, and containing at the time of my story very few Americans, though in other parts of Texas these already formed an important part of the population. Texas was then a Mexican state, and Mexico itself had but recently thrown off the yoke of Spain. In its struggle for liberty the American residents had rendered such splendid service, that when freedom was finally gained they were granted many especial privileges by the Mexican government. These were highly prized, and everything went smoothly, until General Santa Aña headed a revolution, overthrew the existing government, and made himself Dictator.
"Hating Americans, and jealous of their increasing power, Santa Aña began to withdraw their privileges, and declared that Texas, disappearing as a separate territory, should thereafter belong to the older Mexican state of Coahuila. Worst of all, he replaced the civil with a military government, and ordered that all citizens should be disarmed. Of course the free-born sons of fathers who had fought at Lexington and Yorktown—for these things happened in 1834—would not submit to such oppression, and the first thing Santa Aña knew the state of Texas was in open revolt, declaring itself to be an independent republic. As San Antonio was its most important city, the Mexican General Cos was ordered to fortify and hold it against the rebels; but one thousand Texans under General Edward Burleson marched against him; and three hundred of them, led by brave old Ben Milam, captured the place after a three days' fight from house to house, and from street to street. General Cos and his two thousand soldiers were allowed to retire to Mexico as paroled prisoners of war, who solemnly promised never again to take up arms against the Texans.
"Soon after this, General Burleson's army scattered to different points where there seemed a chance of more fighting, until only eighty troops, under command of Colonel James Bowie, inventor of the famous bowie-knife and son-in-law of the Mexican Governor, remained to defend the city. These troops had not received one cent of pay, were poorly clad, and possessed but little ammunition. Early in February, 1835, Colonel Bowie, worn out by his efforts to obtain re-enforcements and make adequate provision for the defence of his important post, fell sick of a fever, and Colonel William Travis, who had just arrived with thirty-five men, assumed command. Soon afterwards the renowned David Crockett arrived from Tennessee with thirty more men, so that the garrison now numbered one hundred and forty-five.
"On the 22d of February the Mexican Dictator appeared before San Antonio with an army of 4000 regular troops, and marched straight into the town, the Texans crossing the river and retiring before him to the ruinous old Alamo Mission, which they hastily barricaded, and so converted into a rude fortress. They carried fever-stricken Bowie with them, and, as they retreated, gathered up a few bushels of corn and a few beef cattle, which formed their sole stock of provisions.
"From this place of refuge, when Santa Aña demanded its unconditional surrender, Travis replied with a cannon-shot. He knew that the longer he could hold the Mexican army in check the more time would be allowed the men of Texas to gather and organize for the defence of their homes. Upon receiving this defiant reply, Santa Aña displayed blood-red flags from every church-tower in the town, to signify death without quarter to the rebels, and began a furious bombardment of the Alamo. This was continued almost without intermission, by night as well as by day, until the 6th of March, or through two weary weeks. During that time Travis managed to despatch several couriers in different directions, with urgent messages imploring assistance. In every message he wrote, 'We are determined neither to surrender nor retreat, but will maintain our position to the bitter end.'
"Every now and then the little garrison made desperate sorties for the destruction of some galling battery or to seize a few supplies, and during those twelve fearful days whenever a Texas rifle was fired a Mexican soldier fell dead. In the early morning of the 1st of March a great shout of rejoicing rang out from the battered mission, for Captain John Smith, who, with thirty men, had hastened from Gonzales to the assistance of his friends, had succeeded in passing the enemy's line and gaining the shelter of the fort. Now the bombardment became so fierce that all the outlying walls of the mission were demolished, and only its stout stone church remained standing. Into it the Texans retired, barricading every entrance and repairing every breach.
"Shortly before sunset on the evening of the 3d the fire of the batteries suddenly ceased. Two thousand fresh troops, the army of General Cos, which had been captured and paroled at this very place, had retraced their steps, and now, in violation of their pledged word, were prepared once more to fight against their conquerors. While they were being welcomed with acclamations and every form of rejoicing by the Mexicans, the grim walls of the Alamo were witnessing one of the most solemn and pathetic scenes of history. In their dim shadow Colonel Travis paraded his handful of heroes in single file, and addressed them in substantially these words:
"'My brave comrades, stern necessity compels me to employ the moments afforded by this probably brief cessation of conflict in making known to you the most interesting, yet the most solemn, melancholy, and unwelcome fact that humanity can realize. Our fate is sealed. Within a few days, perhaps a few hours, we must all be in eternity. Our provisions are gone, our ammunition is nearly spent, and our strength is almost exhausted. My calls for assistance remain unanswered, and the probabilities are that our couriers have been cut off. The enemy surrounds us in overwhelming and ever-increasing numbers. Then we must die, and have only to choose such method of death as may best serve our country. Shall we surrender, and be deliberately shot? Shall we try to cut our way out through the Mexican ranks, and be butchered before we can kill twenty of our adversaries? I am opposed to either plan, but leave every man of you to his own decision. Should any one choose to surrender, or attempt to escape, he is at liberty to do so. My own choice is to remain in this place, and die for my country, fighting so long as breath shall remain in my body. This will I do even if you leave me alone. Do, then, as you think best; but remember that no one of you can die with me without affording me comfort in the hour of death.'
"Here Colonel Travis drew his sword, and with its point traced a line on the earthen floor extending the whole length of the motionless file. Then resuming his position in front of the centre, he said: