Remember the Alamo [88]
the last express sent by poor Travis from the Alamo.
It was of the most thrilling character, breathing the very
spirit of patriotism and courage--and despair. In less than
an hour, Houston, with a few companions, was on his way
to the Alamo. At the same time he sent an express to Fannin,
urging him to meet him on the Cibolo. Houston will be here
to-morrow."
"Then he will learn that all help is too late."
But Houston had learned it in his own way before he reached
Gonzales; for Travis had stated that as long as the Alamo
could be held, signal guns would be fired at sunrising; and it
is a well-authenticated fact that these guns were heard by
trained ears for more than one hundred miles across the
prairie. Houston, whose senses were keen as the Indians with
whom he had long lived knew when he was within reach of the
sound; and he rose very early, and with his ear close to the
ground waited in intense anxiety for the dull, rumbling murmur
which would tell him the Alamo still held out. His companions
stood at some distance, still as statues, intently watching
him. The sun rose. He had listened in vain; not the faintest
sound did his ear detect.
"The Alamo has fired its last gun," he said, on rejoining his
companions.
"And the men, General?"
"They have died like men. You may be sure of that."
At Gonzales he heard the particulars. And he saw that the
news had exerted a depressing influence upon the troops there.
He called them together. He spoke to them of the brutal
tragedy, and he invested its horrors with the grandeur of
eternal purpose and the glory of heroic sacrifice.
"They were soldiers," he cried; "and they died like soldiers.
Their names will be the morning stars of American history.
They will live for ever in the red monument of the Alamo." He
looked like a lion, with a gloomy stare; his port was fierce,
and his eyes commanded all he viewed. "Vengeance remains to
us! We have declared our independence, and it must be
maintained."
He immediately sent off another express to Fannin; apprised
him of the fall of the Alamo; ordered him to blow up Goliad
and fall back upon Gonzales. Then he sent wagons into the
surrounding country, to transport the women and children to
the eastern settlements; for he knew well what atrocities
would mark every mile of Santa Anna's progress through the
country.
These wagons, with their helpless loads, were to
rendezvous at Peach Creek, ten miles from Gonzales; where also
he expected Fannin and his eight hundred and sixty men to join
him. This addition would make the American force nearly
twelve hundred strong. Besides which, Fannin's little army
was of the finest material, being composed mostly of
enthusiastic volunteers from Georgia and Alabama; young men,
who, like Dare Grant and John Worth, were inspired with the
idea of freedom, or the spread of Americanism, or the
fanaticism of religious liberty of conscience--perhaps, even,
with hatred of priestly domination. Houston felt that he
would be sufficient for Santa Anna when the spirit of this
company was added to the moral force of men driven from their
homes and families to fight for the lands they had bought and
the rights which had been guaranteed them.
So he watched the horizon anxiously for Fannin's approach,
often laying his ear to the ground to listen for what he could
not see. And, impatient as he was for their arrival, the
Senora was more so. She declared that her sufferings would be
unendurable but for this hope. The one question on her lips,
the one question in her eyes, was, "Are they coming?"
And Antonia, though she did not speak of her private hopes,
was equally anxious. Brother and lover were both very dear to
her. And to have the whole family together would be in itself
a great help. Whatever their deprivations and fatigues, they
could comfort each other with their affection.
Every day wagon-loads of women and children joined the camp,
and the march eastward was very slow. But no circumstance
extols more
It was of the most thrilling character, breathing the very
spirit of patriotism and courage--and despair. In less than
an hour, Houston, with a few companions, was on his way
to the Alamo. At the same time he sent an express to Fannin,
urging him to meet him on the Cibolo. Houston will be here
to-morrow."
"Then he will learn that all help is too late."
But Houston had learned it in his own way before he reached
Gonzales; for Travis had stated that as long as the Alamo
could be held, signal guns would be fired at sunrising; and it
is a well-authenticated fact that these guns were heard by
trained ears for more than one hundred miles across the
prairie. Houston, whose senses were keen as the Indians with
whom he had long lived knew when he was within reach of the
sound; and he rose very early, and with his ear close to the
ground waited in intense anxiety for the dull, rumbling murmur
which would tell him the Alamo still held out. His companions
stood at some distance, still as statues, intently watching
him. The sun rose. He had listened in vain; not the faintest
sound did his ear detect.
"The Alamo has fired its last gun," he said, on rejoining his
companions.
"And the men, General?"
"They have died like men. You may be sure of that."
At Gonzales he heard the particulars. And he saw that the
news had exerted a depressing influence upon the troops there.
He called them together. He spoke to them of the brutal
tragedy, and he invested its horrors with the grandeur of
eternal purpose and the glory of heroic sacrifice.
"They were soldiers," he cried; "and they died like soldiers.
Their names will be the morning stars of American history.
They will live for ever in the red monument of the Alamo." He
looked like a lion, with a gloomy stare; his port was fierce,
and his eyes commanded all he viewed. "Vengeance remains to
us! We have declared our independence, and it must be
maintained."
He immediately sent off another express to Fannin; apprised
him of the fall of the Alamo; ordered him to blow up Goliad
and fall back upon Gonzales. Then he sent wagons into the
surrounding country, to transport the women and children to
the eastern settlements; for he knew well what atrocities
would mark every mile of Santa Anna's progress through the
country.
These wagons, with their helpless loads, were to
rendezvous at Peach Creek, ten miles from Gonzales; where also
he expected Fannin and his eight hundred and sixty men to join
him. This addition would make the American force nearly
twelve hundred strong. Besides which, Fannin's little army
was of the finest material, being composed mostly of
enthusiastic volunteers from Georgia and Alabama; young men,
who, like Dare Grant and John Worth, were inspired with the
idea of freedom, or the spread of Americanism, or the
fanaticism of religious liberty of conscience--perhaps, even,
with hatred of priestly domination. Houston felt that he
would be sufficient for Santa Anna when the spirit of this
company was added to the moral force of men driven from their
homes and families to fight for the lands they had bought and
the rights which had been guaranteed them.
So he watched the horizon anxiously for Fannin's approach,
often laying his ear to the ground to listen for what he could
not see. And, impatient as he was for their arrival, the
Senora was more so. She declared that her sufferings would be
unendurable but for this hope. The one question on her lips,
the one question in her eyes, was, "Are they coming?"
And Antonia, though she did not speak of her private hopes,
was equally anxious. Brother and lover were both very dear to
her. And to have the whole family together would be in itself
a great help. Whatever their deprivations and fatigues, they
could comfort each other with their affection.
Every day wagon-loads of women and children joined the camp,
and the march eastward was very slow. But no circumstance
extols more