Lone Star Nation (45 page)

Travis reminded the convention how often he had requested aid, and he wondered why, with the exception of the company from Gonzales, none had appeared. “Col. Fannin is said to be on the march to this place with reinforcements, but I fear it is not true, as I have
repeatedly
sent to him for aid without receiving any.” Travis detailed what was needed: five hundred pounds of cannon powder, two hundred rounds of cannonballs of various sizes, ten kegs of rifle powder and a commensurate quantity of bullet lead, and as many men as could be spared. “If these things are promptly sent and large reinforcements are hastened to this frontier, this neighborhood will be the great and decisive ground. The power of Santa Anna is to be met here or in the colonies; we had better meet them here than to suffer a war of devastation to rage in our settlements.” If relief didn't arrive soon, Travis would have no choice. “I shall have to fight the enemy on his own terms.”

It was war to the death. “A blood red banner waves from the church of Bejar, and in the camp above us, in token that the war is one of vengeance against rebels. They have declared us as such, demanded that we should surrender at discretion, or that this garrison should be put to the sword.” Travis and his fellows didn't mind the danger. “Their threats have no influence on me or my men”—except “to make all fight with desperation and that high-souled courage that characterizes the patriot, who is willing to die in defense of his country's liberty and his own honor.” Travis renewed his vow to battle till the end, and he promised similar resolve from his subordinates. “I feel confident that the determined valor and desperate courage heretofore exhibited by my men will not fail them in the last struggle; and although they may be sacrificed to the vengeance of a Gothic enemy, the victory will cost the enemy so dear that it will be worse for him than defeat.” Travis's closing was as defiant as ever: “God and Texas—Victory or Death.”

Travis wrote two more letters that day. To the convention he urged a declaration that would confer real meaning on the fight against Santa Anna and on the sacrifices it entailed. “Let the Convention go on and make a declaration of independence, and we will then understand, and the world will understand, what we are fighting for. If independence is not declared, I shall lay down my arms, and so will the men under my command. But under the flag of independence, we are ready to peril our lives a hundred times a day, and to drive away the monster who is fighting us under a blood-red flag, threatening to murder all prisoners and make Texas a waste desert.”

To a trusted friend he sent a personal message: “Take care of my little boy. If the country should be saved, I may make him a splendid fortune; but if the country should be lost and I should perish, he will have nothing but the proud recollection that he is the son of a man who died for his country.”

Although the siege was going well for Santa Anna, it wasn't everything the Mexican commander had hoped. His original plan entailed attacking directly from the march, to crush the rebels before they had a chance to retreat to the Alamo. “With the speed in which this meritorious division executed its marches in eighty leagues of road,” he wrote to the Mexican minister of war, “it was believed that the rebel settlers would not have known of our proximity until we should have been within rifle-shot of them.” But heavy rains had raised the Medina River, slowing the army's crossing and allowing word of the Mexican approach to reach the rebels, who withdrew into the Alamo.

Yet he couldn't complain. “The national troops, with the utmost order, took possession of this city, which the traitors shall never again occupy.” And over the next several days the Mexican lines advanced toward the Alamo, pinning the rebels down. “They are not even allowed to raise their heads over the walls.” The defiance of the rebels wouldn't last. “Up to now they still act stubborn, counting on the strong position which they hold, and hoping for much aid from their colonies and from the United States of the North, but they shall soon find out their mistake.” The assault on the Alamo—“which will take place when at least the first brigade arrives”—would be the initial step toward eradicating the rebellion. “After taking Fort Alamo, I shall continue my operations against Goliad and the other fortified places, so that before the rains set in, the campaign shall be absolutely terminated up to the Sabine River.”

The following days brought word that the rebel-eradication campaign was proceeding nicely. Despite Houston's opposition, Johnson and Grant had pressed ahead with the Matamoros expedition. They mustered men and scoured the country around San Patricio for horses to carry them south. But their actions, besides advertising their presence and aims, alienated many of the local Tejanos, who informed the Mexican army of the rebels' whereabouts. General José Urrea, in charge of the security of Matamoros, put the intelligence to good use. At ten o'clock on the night of February 25, Urrea's informants reported that the rebels had occupied San Patricio. The weather was miserable, with rain falling and snow threatening. A less resolute commander might have waited for it to clear, but Urrea seized the opportunity for surprise. Setting out at once, he pushed his men through the night and the following day. The weather got worse. “The night was very raw and excessively cold,” Urrea recorded in his journal. “The rain continued, and the dragoons, who were barely able to dismount, were so numbed by the cold that they could hardly speak.” Six infantrymen of the Yucatán battalion died from exposure.

The Mexican forces reached San Patricio before dawn on February 27. Urrea quietly ordered forty dragoons to dismount. “Dividing them into three groups under good officers, I gave instructions for them to charge the position of the enemy, protected by the rest of our mounted troops.” The surprise was devastating. “The enemy was attacked at half past three in the morning in the midst of the rain, and although forty men within the fort defended themselves resolutely, the door was forced at dawn, sixteen being killed and twenty-four being taken prisoners.”

Johnson managed to flee north toward Refugio, but Grant, still raiding along the Rio Grande, was unaware of what had happened. Urrea exploited his ignorance. “I decided to wait for the enemy ten leagues from San Patricio, at the port of Los Cuates de Agua Dulce, where he would have to pass. I divided my force into six groups and hid them in the woods.” The rebels approached early on March 2, and again the surprise was overwhelming. “Between ten and eleven in the morning, Dr. Grant arrived. He was attacked and vanquished by the parties under my command and that of Colonel Francisco Garay. Dr. Grant and forty of the riflemen were left dead on the field, and we took six prisoners besides their arms, munitions, and horses.”

Santa Anna heard of Urrea's victory a short while later. He congratulated the general on his victory but judged he had to steel Urrea's spine on an issue the triumph raised. Urrea asked what he should do with the prisoners his men had captured; these included the two dozen Americans and five Tejanos. Santa Anna responded that the law of Mexico was clear: “Foreigners invading the republic, and taken with arms in their hands, shall be judged and treated as pirates.” The president-general added, “An example is necessary, in order that those adventurers may be duly warned and the nation be delivered from the ills she is daily doomed to suffer.” Regarding the Tejanos: “As, in my opinion, every Mexican guilty of the crime of joining these adventurers loses the rights of a citizen by his unnatural conduct, the five Mexican prisoners whom you have taken ought also to suffer as traitors.” In other words, the prisoners were to be executed, every one.

The prisoner question came up the next day in a different context. Urrea's success at San Patricio spurred Santa Anna to move against the Alamo. “Twelve days had passed since Ramírez y Sesma's division had drawn up before the Alamo, and three since our own arrival at Béjar,” José de la Peña wrote. “Our commander became more furious when he saw that the enemy resisted the idea of surrender. He believed, as others did, that the fame and honor of the army were compromised the longer the enemy lived. General Urrea had anticipated him and had dealt the first blow, but we had not advanced in the least. . . . It was therefore necessary to attack him in order to make him feel the vigor of our souls and the strength of our arms.”

Santa Anna called a council of war on the evening of March 4. Some of the officers apparently believed that the rebel garrison could be reduced with minor loss of Mexican life, if Santa Anna were willing to wait for more artillery to arrive. “They could not have resisted for many hours the destruction and imposing fire from twenty cannon,” de la Peña wrote. But the commander refused to continue the siege. The rebels, he declared, must be destroyed at once. No one at the council openly opposed this decision, evidently considering opposition futile. The discussion then turned to tactics: what columns would approach from which directions, how many units should attack at once and how many he held in reserve. The question of prisoners arose. “The example of Arredondo was cited,” de la Peña recorded. “During the Spanish rule he had hanged eight hundred or more colonists after having triumphed in a military action, and this conduct was taken as a model.” A few of the officers present voiced concern at such a harsh policy. “But their arguments were fruitless.”

The order to ready the final assault was circulated on the afternoon of March 5. “The time has come to strike a decisive blow upon the enemy occupying the fortress of the Alamo,” Santa Anna declared. “Tomorrow at 4 o'clock a.m., the columns of attack shall be stationed at musket-shot distance from the first entrenchments, ready for the charge, which shall commence at a signal to be given with the bugle from the northern battery.” The general specified the preparations: “The first column will carry ten ladders, two crowbars, and two axes; the second, ten ladders, the third, six ladders; and the fourth, two ladders. . . . The companies of grenadiers will be supplied with six packages of cartridges to every man, and the center companies with two packages and two spare flints.” No concession would be made to the foul weather. “The men will wear neither overcoats nor blankets, nor anything that may impede the rapidity of their motions.” They would retire early the night before the attack. “The troops composing the columns of attack will turn in to sleep at dark, to be in readiness to move at 12 o'clock at night.”

Santa Anna entreated his men to consider the opportunity fortune had placed in their way. “His Excellency expects that every man will do his duty, and exert himself to give a day of glory to the country, and of gratification to the Supreme Government, who will know how to reward the distinguished deeds of the brave soldiers of the Army of Operations.”

Inside the Alamo, Travis weighed his options. By now Bowie was confined to bed, too weak to get up, too delirious to argue with Travis even if he had been so inclined. Crockett was helpful, encouraging the men and lifting spirits wherever he went; but he didn't trespass on Travis's authority. The twenty-six year-old colonel made decisions on his own.