Chapter 14
Crossing the Line
The salvation of Texas depends in great measure in keeping Bexar out of the hands of the enemy.
-James Bowie
South of San Antonio-February 23, 1836
General Santa Anna sat on his horse viewing the mass of men attempting to cross the river. It was an unmitigated disaster. They had braved winter on the open plains. They had survived a terrible blizzard. They had crossed hundreds of miles of open land with little or no food, and they had accomplished it in record time. He had literally outrun two-thirds of his own army. Not Caesar, not even Napoleon had ever managed to move an army so far, so fast in the dead of winter. The Army of Mexico had achieved the impossible – the element of surprise. And now, at the last moment, at the last river separating the army and their enemy, the weather had conspired against them. The rain had swollen the Medina River, and here they were, not ten miles from Bexar, slogging across this infernal river, inching along at an intolerably slow pace. And with each passing hour, El Presidente knew that the element of surprise was slipping from his grasp.
The Alamo
Colonel William B. Travis was exceedingly alarmed, but he nonetheless steeled himself. Townsfolk were loading up their carts and wagons and preparing to leave Bexar. Upon questioning one Tejano, the reply had been, “General Santa Anna is at the Medina! We must abandon San Antonio, Colonel!”
“My God,” was all Travis could think of to say. “Captain,” he commanded, “Get me Lieutenant Banks and his friend MacElrae.”
Moments later, the two arrived at Travis’ office. “Ah, good, just the men I need. Come inside! Lieutenant Banks, Mr. MacElrae, thank you for coming so quickly,” and at this Travis shook each man’s hand ceremoniously. “Gentlemen, we have a report that Santa Anna is at the Medina with a force of more than a thousand men.”
Hawk blanched, spluttering, “That’s no more than ten miles, sir!”
“Exactly, Mr. Banks! I want you to ride out there and see if the report is true. Ride hard, and if you see them, turn and ride for home as fast as you can. I shall in turn climb to the top of the bell tower in the San Fernando Church, from whence I should be able to observe your horses riding hard towards the city. Can you do that, gentlemen?”
“Yes, sir,” Hawk said and, saluting, he dragged a still dumbfounded Hank with him.
Travis and the members of his staff climbed to the top of the bell tower and waited. A quarter of an hour later, the two horsemen came into view.
On the Texas Prairie
Hawk crested the hill just ahead of Hank, and as he pointed, Hank rode up. Raising up in his saddle, Hank exclaimed, “Oh my God! Oh, mother of Jesus, Hawk. It’s the whole damn Army of Mexico! They can’t be more than five miles off, and there must be at least a couple of thousand men out there raisin’ such a gigantic cloud of dust!”
“Damn!” Hawk replied, and so saying, he immediately turned and drove hard for Bexar, racing as fast as Achilles would take him. Hank followed directly on his heels.
Atop the San Fernando Bell Tower
Colonel Travis could make out the two horsemen racing as fast as a horse could possibly run, and he didn’t need to be told what it meant. Turning to his entourage, he commanded, “Listen up! All officers, inform all companies to evacuate the city at once. I need everyone within the walls of the Alamo within two hours!”
On the Plain South of San Antonio
Hawk rode like a man possessed. Hank had never seen him ride Achilles like that. He pulled as close as he could and cried, “What’s your hurry, Hawk?”
Hawk yelled in return, “Listen up, Hank, because I’m only going say this once! You get your tail inside the Alamo as quick as you can! Grab your stuff, and get in there faster than lightening! Party time is over! We done poked a hornet’s nest, and it’s plain to see, they’re riled up! And there’s no telling whether there’s an advance batallion sneaking up on us from another angle. This here Santa Anna says he’s the Napoleon of the West. If he’s half as smart as Napoleon, he’ll darn sure have somethin’ up his sleeve. So get inside the mission walls! I’ll be meeting up with you as soon as I can get Antonia and Teresa rounded up.”
Hawk rode directly into town and pulled up at the house. He ran inside, and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Antonia, Santa Anna’s here. We have to get to the Alamo! Right now! Come on, bring Teresa!”
Antonia rushed into the tiny room and, embracing Hawk tenderly, she exclaimed, “No, my Halcón. I do not think that it is wise for Teresa and me come to the Alamo with you.”
Still breathing hard, Hawk stammered, “What? Why?”
“We are Tejano’s, and we are mujeres. They will not hurt us. It is the Mexican way, Señor.”
“But you’ll both be safer with us,” Hawk said.
“Do you really think that, my love?” she responded.
Hawk stared at her for what seemed a full minute. His life seemed to be flashing before his eyes. The emotions that passed between the two changed rapidly from fear, to love, to realization, to resignation, and finally, to acceptance.
“No,” he said softly, “No, I don’t,” the two melting into a gentle embrace.
“You must see, my dear. It has to be this way,” Antonia whispered, “Outside the Alamo, I can protect Teresa. From my vantage point, I can find out what the Mexican Army is up to. And with luck, I may even be able to supply you with important information.”
“Yes, yes, of course, you are right,” he replied. “But, please, Antonia, don’t spy! Don’t do anything that would cast suspicion on you. There is nothing you could find out that would be worth that much. Be careful! Promise me!”
“Yes, of course. I promise. Now get out of here!”
By the time Hawk galloped through the south gate of the Alamo, the fortress was already bustling with activity. Hawk could see Travis and Bowie conversing over by the mission chapel. For some reason Bowie did not look well. “Probably burning off another one of his drinking binges,” Hawk thought to himself.
Men were running every which way. There seemed to be no order to the activities. Hawk trotted Achilles over to the stable and went looking for Hank. He found him at the stable, still tending to his horse.
“Hey, Hank,” Hawk said as he strode up.
“Helluva mess, Hawk. Helluva mess,” was all Hank could muster to say. Hawk could tell he was flustered about something.
“I know, Hank. I know,” Hawk replied soothingly.
Hank blurted, “We don’t have near enough men to hold this fort. Not from what I saw out there on that plain just now.”
“I know. You’re right,” Hawk rejoined, “We’ll get those reinforcements. You’ll see, Hank. Till then, we’ll hold off the enemy.”
“We could just put our saddles back on our horses and ride right out of here right now. I could be kissin’ Julie in three days’ time,” Hank suggested furtively.
“Now, don’t go thinking that, Hank. You know we can’t do that. We took a solemn oath to defend Texas.”
“Solemn oath! Heck, that was damn near six months ago, Hawk. And this here army, and this here country, or state, or whatever in tarnation it is, has, from the day we signed up, done very little if anything to justify our loyalty!”
Hawk grabbed Hank and hugged him hard.
Hank blabbed, “What the…What’re you doin’ that for?” but he nonetheless hugged him in return. And then, they both hugged even harder. It was as if both realized for the first time what was unfolding before their eyes.
Hawk drew back and, wiping his face with his sleeve, he responded sadly, “Damn, I wish it were different Hank. I truly do. Three months ago, I wouldn’t have cared one way or the other, but now I have just as much to live for as you. But I absolutely cannot run away, and neither can you. We both of us know that.”
“Heck, I know that, Hawk, I’m just mad at the stupidity of this whole mess.”
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nbsp; Their only hope was that now that reality had struck, their leaders might actually lead.
The Far Side of the Alamo
Nate Tucker was flabbergasted by the entire proceeding. He had no idea what to do. He saw Hawk Banks coming towards him, accompanied by that fellow he was always with. Nate admired Hawk greatly. He was solid. The men all knew that. So he decided to risk a question, “Excuse me, sir, Mr. Hawk, sir. Nate Tucker here.”
Hawk halted abruptly and, seemingly taking in Nate for the first time, he responded politely, “Why, of course you are, Nate. I know you, sir. What can I do for you?” Hawk noticed Nate eyeing Hank suspiciously, so he continued, “Oh, I’m sorry, Nate, this is my friend Hank MacElrae.”
“Pleased to meet ya,” Hank offered, holding out his hand.
Nate shook his hand and, a frown suddenly creasing his features, he inquired, “MacElrae…MacElrae. You wouldn’t be the MacElrae from Bastrop now, would you?”
“Why, yes, that would be me. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. I just heard of you. Pleased to meet you, Hank MacElrae from Bastrop. I’m here from Kentucky.”
“Oh, we thought you were from Tennessee,” Hawk replied.
“I declare, that’s what everybody thinks, seein’ as how I come in with Davy Crockett. But that was all a big misunderstandin’, I expect. Anyway, I’m here now, and it looks like the excitement is about to heat up. Would you have any suggestions as to what I ought to be doin’, Mr. Hawk?”
Hawk looked at Nate, and realizing for the first time how things were with him, he inquired, “I thought you were assigned to the Tennessee company.”
“Yes, sir, I was, but I don’t cater to them fellas. Too high and mighty for me.”
“Well, sir, can you fire that there Kentucky long rifle?” Hawk asked pointedly.
“Yes, sir, I can nail a turkey at a hundred yards nine times out of ten, I reckon.”
“That’s just fine, Nate. You follow me, and stay close. We may be testing out your reckoning before the day is out,” and that is how Nate came to join up with Hank and Hawk.
Moments Later
Hawk found Colonel Travis within his office issuing orders to his staff. Hawk was mightily impressed. A change had come over this fellow in the last three weeks. He seemed to Hawk to have grown half a foot in stature. In truth, he had somehow grown into a leader in an amazingly short span of time.
Noticing Hawk, Captain Seguin turned to him and whispered, “Bowie is real sick. Colonel Travis is issuing orders to all of the unit commanders, Señor Halcón.”
“Well, glory be, and none too soon,” Hawk replied under his breath. “The young pup seems to have risen to the occasion, don’t you think, Juan?”
“Si, Señor. I am greatly impressed with this man Travis.”
“What are his orders, Captain?” Hawk asked Seguin.
Seguin relayed, “Your company is to be stationed along the west wall. You will be under my command. We are expecting an attack at any time, so please order your men to take their places as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir,” Hawk replied, and at this he set off to carry out his orders.
He found Nate standing anxiously at his post, squinting into the late afternoon sun. Suddenly, a red flag was hoisted above the San Fernando Church within the city, at which Nate exclaimed, “Look yonder, sir. The Mexican Army has arrived in Bexar, and they’ve hoisted a red flag at the church. What does it mean?”
Turning on his heel, Hawk responded, “You don’t want to know, Nate.”
Moments later, Hank noticed that a cannon shot had been fired across the river from the Alamo. Seeing no apparent damage from the wayward blast, he asked Hawk, “What the heck was that all about?”
“The red flag means ‘no quarter given’ by the Army of Mexico. The cannon shot is Colonel Travis’ way of replying ‘up yours’, or something to that effect.”
Overhearing this last, Nate hooted, “Hot damn, we’re gonna have ourselves a turkey shoot,” and he punctuated this submission by dancing about idiotically.
Hawk grinned impassively at Nate, but inwardly he was churning. Nate’s good humor, misplaced though it clearly was, gave Hawk further evidence of the reliability of his new recruit. Still, absolutely nothing else positive regarding their current situation came to Hawk’s mind.
The following morning, sunrise brought the realization that the enemy had begun to take positions outside the so-called fortress. Most of the troops were to the west, streaming down from the city. Some had crossed the river, and a gun crew was emplacing a cannon on the bluff cresting the opposite shore.
Nate’s abilities were soon to be unveiled. A small detachment of Mexican soldiers decided to test the resolve of the Texian Army. They fanned out along the river bank and headed towards the walls, dipping and trotting forward. Within seconds, Hawk came running toward Nate, exclaiming forcefully, “Now’s your chance Nate! See if you can pick off that lead man. Hank will take the second one.”
Signaling his concurrence, Nate loosed off a shot within seconds, taking down an unfortunate soldier at nearly two hundred yards.
Moments later, Hank struck his target as well. The Texians on the wall let out a whoop, and the battle was suddenly underway. Within minutes, the attackers had retreated, at least half a dozen of their comrades having been wounded on the field of battle.
Hawk walloped Nate on the back, bellowing, “Well, damned if you didn’t turn out to be the man of the hour, Nate Tucker. You shot a man at a distance most folks can’t even see. I believe we just might give the Army of Mexico one hell of a fight!”
Nate was proud to be singled out by his new mentor. Accordingly, he reached within his pocket and gave his friend Mephistopheles a squeeze for good measure.
San Antonio-That Night
Francisco’s heart was pounding so hard, he feared it might burst. Inexplicably, after two months, here he was back in Bexar. The march had been hard, but he had warmed to the idea as they neared San Antonio. And now, here they were. His company had settled down for the night, and Francisco was subsequently allowed the freedom to roam the city.
Without the slightest hesitation, he made straight for the cantina. He was in such a hurry that he stumbled as he stepped within. Pressing his way to the bar amid the throng of soldiers, he joined in drink to escape the reality of war.
Scarcely a drop passed his lips before he wondered to himself, “Where is the Señora? Where is Antonia?” Realizing that she was not there, Francisco was crushed with disappointment. Where had she disappeared to? Downing his mescal in a single gulp, he raced from the cantina into the night, intent upon finding her.
Rushing to another cantina two blocks further down Portero Street, he raced within. There was a huge crush of soldiers within, but as his eyes adjusted to the light he saw her, sitting at a table in the corner with several men. He rushed to the table in desperation but, his relief all too apparent, he realized too late how he must have looked to her.
Antonia turned to him and murmured disinterestedly, “Ah, so we meet again, my little one. And how have you been these three months? Capitan- please – pardon me. I must speak with my little friend. I will be back shortly,” and at this she arose and pushed Francisco into the night air.
His heart pounding uncontrollably, Francisco was bursting with desire. “Señora,” he whispered and, tugging her to him, he kissed her savagely.
Fighting him off, Antonia pulled away and struck him across the face with all of her strength. Francisco went down.
Grabbing his face, he whimpered in embarrassment, “Ow! That hurt!”
“What do you think you are doing, Señor!” she spat forcefully at him, and it was obvious it was not a question
Regaining his footing, he cried apologetically, “Señora Antonia, you promised!”
“I promised? I promised what?”
“You promised you would reward me!”
r /> “I promised nothing of the sort. I promised you I would remember. And so I have. Now, go away. Go back to your soldiering, and leave me alone. I am grateful to you for what you did, but that is all.”
It was not going the way Francisco had envisioned in his dreams. Somehow, it had all gone wrong. “I am sorry, Señora. I seem to have misunderstood. I apologize. Can we start over?”
“There is nothing to start over, Francisco. Now go away!” and having dismissed his poorly conceived advance, she turned and strode back down the alley.
For his part, Francisco remained motionless, all the while sobbing softly to himself. The spot where she had struck him burned white hot, thereby feeding his fury. Absentmindedly stroking the medallion at his throat, he mumbled, “She will be sorry for this. She will be sorry.”
The Alamo-The Following Day
Colonel Travis was furious. When the Mexican Army had shown up without warning the previous day he had said nothing, but he simply could not allow such incompetence to pass without saying something. He thus stormed into Bowie’s office and posited, “Colonel, this is what comes from poor military leadership. The whole damn Mexican Army is upon us now, and we have no recourse whatsoever. We are trapped, outnumbered, and outmaneuvered by Santa Anna and the Army of Mexico!”
Bowie could only gag and nod his forlorn agreement. It was clear that his illness was not abating but, recovering momentarily, he suggested blandly, “And what would you have me do, Colonel Travis?”
“This joint leadership cannot continue, Colonel. I remind you that I ordered a scout to head southwest to watch for the enemy last week. But you contradicted me, saying they would be coming from Goliad, so that no lookout was needed to the southwest. Despite my seniority in the field, the men will not follow my orders. And the incident with the red flag is just inexcusable. How in hell could you request a parlee with the Mexicans, when I had already fired a cannon shot announcing our intentions to defend this fort? We must have a single leader, sir!”
At this Bowie responded impertinently, “Colonel, may I remind YOU that at no time have we received orders that you are in command here. As such, I remain in command of the Alamo!” but once again he lapsed into gagging and coughing.
Travis retorted in obvious irritation, “I received clear orders at Goliad, sir! I have told you this repeatedly, but you refuse to concur. We cannot continue like this, Colonel Bowie.”
Bowie thought to reply, but his illness overtook him yet again.
Travis now attempted another approach, pleading softly, “Sir, you must at least recognize that you are in no position to command this army. You’re in poor health, sir. Surely you can see that.”
Pulling a rag from his pocket, Bowie wiped his mouth and forehead. He seemed to contemplate the situation momentarily, and suddenly volunteered, “All right, Colonel Travis, let us review our situation and come to an agreement regarding our plan of attack as best we can. Then and only then will I discuss the subject of leadership.”
“Fair enough, sir. What are your thoughts?” Travis responded.
“My view is that we have three choices. First, we can attempt to sneak out at night. Second, we can attack the Mexicans preemptively and hope to stave them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Third, we can do our best to reinforce our defenses and attempt to drive off any attacks upon us.”
“I concur,” Travis replied carefully. “However, as for the first option, it goes against my orders, and I will not disobey my orders, sir.”
“Ha!” Bowie responded, “Why am I not surprised, sir! If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it is that you are about as bull-headed a man as lives on this earth!” He eyed Bowie for a moment and exclaimed, “So be it. I agree. We stand and fight. That leaves only options two and three. I am for option three, sir.”
“As am I, Colonel. My scout tells me that there are already several thousand enemy soldiers surrounding us. An attack by our small force would be suicide. We must defend.”
“Suicide! Suicide! The hell you say, Colonel! Every person inside the walls of the Alamo has already chosen suicide, sir. We are all dead men, sooner or later. The only real option we have now is in choosing how we shall die.”
At this Travis acquiesced, “Sir, sadly, we are for the first time in accord. Let us choose death with honor.”
At this Bowie’s eyes lit up and, gagging yet again, he nonetheless managed to say, “Sir, I care not one tiny bug’s turd for your honor! I care about Texas! We came here for Texas, and we shall die here for Texas! And the longer we can hold out here, tying down the enemy, the longer Sam Houston will have the opportunity to mount an army capable of taking on Santa Anna. Let us hold out as long as we can, and in the process slay as many of our attackers as possible.”
“Sir, we are in complete agreement,” Travis responded bluntly.
Bowie now softened. He leaned forward on the bed, arose gingerly, and announced formally, “Sir, in that case I am ready to sign over my share of command of this force to you. I cannot continue to lead in my current condition. Fate has chosen you to lead us, and I will be proud to serve under your command.”
Commander of the Alamo February, 24, 1836
To the people of Texas and all Americans in the world:
Fellow citizens and compatriots:
I am besieged, by a thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have sustained continual bombardment and for twenty-four hours and have not lost a man. The enemy has demanded a surrender at discretion, otherwise, the garrison are to be put to the sword, if the fort is taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon shot, and our flag still waves proudly from the walls. I shall never surrender or retreat. Then, I call on you in the name of liberty, of patriotism and everything dear to the American character, to come to our aid, with all dispatch. The enemy is receiving reinforcements daily and will no doubt increase to three or four thousand in four or five days. If this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible and die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor and that of his country. Victory or death.
William Barret Travis Lt. Col. Comdt.
P.S. The Lord is on our side. When the enemy appeared in sight we had not three bushels of corn. We have since found in deserted houses eighty or ninety bushels and got into the walls twenty or thirty head of Beeves.