March 6, 1836

Eight score and sixteen years ago, our fathers brought forth in this state a new republic, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal and are not subject to the dictates of despots.

Sound familiar?

Though it is a poor pedestrian paraphrasing of Lincoln’s historic and unforgettable Gettysburg Address, it addresses the fact that on March 6 one hundred and seventy-six years ago, a diverse band of 189 determined patriots died in an effort to free Texas from the iron grip of the dictator, Santa Anna.

Now, everyone knows of William Travis, Jim Bowie, and Davy Crockett, but what about the others? Just how diverse was this ragtag army?

General scholarship erroneously suggests the defenders were professional soldiers and Anglos resentful of Santa Anna.

Not so according to Richard Lindley III of the University of Texas. In fact, most of the men at the Alamo were farmers in their twenties. Not all were Anglos. Some were from the Hispanic population of San Antonio and Laredo. Many were from other states. In addition to Crockett’s Tennesseans, some came from as far away as New York and Pennsylvania.

I’d often wondered just why a New Yorker or Pennsylvanian would journey so far to take part in something that did not affect him, but Lindley explained that perhaps the revolution in Texas evoked feelings much like that of the War for Independence had only fifty years earlier in the east.

The largest group of defenders, not counting those from Texas, hailed from Louisiana. Then came Crockett’s Tennesseans and their next-door neighbors from Kentucky.

Of the ninety-five Texans at the Alamo, forty came from Gonzales, thirty-two of whom boldly rode through the Mexican lines under cover of darkness after the siege had begun.

Eleven of the defenders came from San Antonio, among them James Bowie, who had become a Mexican citizen a few years earlier upon marrying the daughter of the vice=governor of the province. Nacogdoches and Brazoria Counties were each represented by ten patriots.

According to Dr. Lindley, the Alamo defenders were not mercenaries, but a legitimate army with assigned ranks made up of men desiring freedom from a dictatorial ruler who had declared martial law and abolished all power of the states of Mexico. The small man commanded such immense power that he single-handedly struck down the democracy of Mexico and replaced it with his dictatorship.

The fuse that would ignite the Alamo had been set almost fifteen years earlier when Moses Austin approached Spanish authorities for a large tract of Texas land to sell to American pioneers.

Only 3,500 native Mexicans had so far settled in Texas, which at the time was northern part of the Mexican state of Coahuila y Tejas.

The Spanish government welcomed the idea for two reasons; to provide a buffer against illegal U.S. settlers who were creating problems in East Texas and to help develop the land.

Mexico placed two conditions on land ownership: settlers had to become Mexican citizens, and they had to convert to Roman Catholicism. Americans eager for land had no compunction or conscience in accepting the conditions.

By 1830, 16,000 Americans had settled in Texas, forming a 4-to-1 majority in the northern section of Coahuila y Tejas. As the Anglo population grew, Mexican authorities became concerned over the American presence. Differences in language and culture created problems between the settlers and the native citizens.

Colonists refused to learn Spanish; they maintained their own schools; they conducted most of their trade with the United States. This streak of independence worried the Mexican government, so in an effort to reassert its authority over Texas, the government reiterated its stand against slavery; set up a chain of military posts occupied by convict soldiers; restricted trade with the U.S.; and decreed an end to further American immigration.

Colonists tolerated the domination, much as U.S. colonists had so many decades earlier tolerated Britain’s iron rule. Eventually, it became too oppressive, so in 1835, the settlers adopted a constitution and organized a temporary government, but they voted dramatically against declaring independence.

They hoped to depose Santa Anna peacefully using legal means and restore power to the state governments per the Mexican constitution of 1824. Perhaps, they hoped, even achieving a separate state of Texas.

But time had run out. In the autumn of 1835, Texas riflemen captured Mexico’s military headquarter in San Antonio. The revolution had begun.

Word reached Santa Anna, and soon rumors spread through Texas that the dictator was on the move with 7,000 soldiers, a wildly inflated number.

His army was made up of fresh recruits and Indian troops the latter of whom spoke or understood little Spanish. When Houston learned Santa Anna was headed for San Antonio, he ordered the city abandoned.

One hundred-fifty rebels disobeyed, deciding instead to defend the city from the protection of the Alamo. Travis, Bowie, and Crockett led them.

Santa Anna lay siege on the presidio. One night, thirty-two men from Gonzales slipped through the Mexican lines.

The story goes that on March 5, Travis drew a line in the sand with his sword and announced only those willing to die for Texas independence cross the line. All except one crossed. Bowie, confined to his bunk, insisted on being carried across.

At 5 a.m. next morning, Mexican troops hurled a massive attack at the garrison. By 8 a.m., all defenders lay dead. Rumor says seven defenders surrendered but were immediately executed. Twelve to fifteen women and children survived.

Mexican troops soaked the dead in oil, stacked them like cordwood, and burned them.

The number of Mexican troops slain varies widely from 250 to 1500. The former number is the Mexican count, the last, the Texian count.

Though a defeat, the Alamo gave the Texas army a psychological boost as did the treacherous murders at Goliad on Palm Sunday a few weeks later.

‘Remember the Alamo’ and ‘Remember Goliad’ were battle cries that lifted men from diverse walks of life and various cultures to achieve the shocking defeat of Santa Anna a few weeks later at San Jacinto.





rconwell@gt.rr.com

http://www.kentconwell.blogspot.com/

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Midnight Ride of Trinidad Coy

The Midnight Ride of Trinidad Coy

Had it not been for a pile of dried locoweed and a forgetful farmer’s boy, the midnight ride of Trinidad Coy might have changed the fate of the Alamo, perhaps the United States.

Like most, I’d never heard the name Trinidad Coy, nor much less assumed that the Texican patriot of Mexican heritage played a role in the saga of the Alamo.

He did, and in both ‘the Handbook of Texas’ and Timothy Matovina’s fine little book, ‘The Alamo Remembered’, I ran across one of those quirks of fate that sometimes alters the destiny of states and nations.

According to the San Antonio Light, 26 November, 1911, Coy was one of several scouts sent from the Alamo to learn the intentions of Santa Anna’s army.

Travis, Bowie, and Crockett had heard the rumors that Santa Anna had entered Texas. Travis was skeptical, refusing to believe Santa Anna would stage an offensive at that time of the year.

Still, there was a possibility. If so, where was he headed? Crockett pointed out that whatever plans they made depended on whether the Mexican dictator was coming to San Antonio or going around.

According to Matovina, scouts were sent out, among them Trinidad Coy, who headed south. For days he rode, exploring rumors, gossip, speculations. A brave man, he preferred being back with Travis where he could defend the country he loved. But, he suppressed the desire to return and continued searching the vast mesquite prairies and rolling hills for any sign of Santa Anna and his army.

He knew Travis did not have the strength to hold off a large force, and that he would need every rifle available. But, what if at this very time the old church was besieged? Every mile Trinidad rode, he fought the urge to turn and race back to the Alamo.

Then the trail grew warm. Rumors surfaced. Peons gossiped. He searched harder, but swtill he found no solid evidence of the Mexican dictator.

He decided to return, putting up for the night with a poor family on their little farm. After supper, a neighbor dropped by, informing them that Santa Anna’s army was camped only a few miles distant.

Coy leaped to his feet and ordered the farmer’s son to bring him his horse. Minutes later, the lithe Tejano swung into the saddle. To his astonishment, his game little cow pony refused to move. After a few moments it sank to its knees.

Without thinking, the boy had placed the horse in the corral into which they had thrown locoweed earlier in the day. Saddling one of the farmer’s horses, Coy raced into the night, only to be challenged by Mexican guards a few miles down the road.

Had he been astride his own little pony, he wouldn’t have worried. The brave horse had great stamina and heart. Once the sturdy mustang gained a lead, nothing could catch him. Coy hoped the farmer’s horse possessed the same qualities.

Leaning low over the neck of his pony, he burst through the guards, racing up the winding road for the Alamo with the news of Santa Anna. Now, the defenders would have time to make plans for the oncoming force.

The farmer’s game little pony soon gave out. Coy scrabbled into the thick briars and spiny underbrush. The sentries searched for him. Just as he thought he was free, they pounced on him.

He explained he was going to visit a sick sister, but the Mexican officer doubted him, and placed him under arrest.

Taken back to San Antonio with the army, he was confined to a secluded room in a chapel for several days.

Outside, he heard the gunfire, the cannons roar.
One morning well before sunrise, everyone was gone, watching the battle. He freed himself and slipped from the chapel to a familiar trail that would lead him around to the rear of the Alamo.

At the end of the trail, he pulled up in a stand of cottonwoods. Beyond lay the Alamo. All was silent.

He peered through the trees, then closed his eyes in pain when he saw the flaming pyre consuming the bodies of the defenders of the Alamo. He was too late.

Trinidad Coy died in 1888 and is buried in San Fernando Cemetery No. 1 in San Antonio.

Could events have turned out differently if Travis, Bowie, and Crockett had a few days notice? We’ll never know. But, still, one can wonder.

Myths of the Alamo

The Myths of Texas Heroes

At the very moment you are reading this, one hundred and seventy four years ago, thousands of Mexican soldiers stood in siege of the Alamo in San Antonio.
Although the Gunfight at the OK Corral will run it a close second, the battle of the Alamo is probably one of the most well known battles in America.

At least it is to us Texans, and I’d be surprised if most countries throughout the world hadn’t heard about it.

The Alamo probably fits easily into that old western journalism admonition ‘when the fact becomes legend, print the legend.”
There are probably been more lies, legends, and folklore regarding the Alamo than any battle in history. I’ve seen figures from 500 to 15,000 Mexican dead; from 180 to 260 defenders dead. I’ve seen the battle climax at night, at dawn, at noon, and in the evening. I’ve seen Jim Bowie’s incapacitation blamed on everything from booze, illness, having a cannon fall on him, and combinations of them all. I’ve seen everything about Crockett’s death from bayonets to blowing up the ammunitions dump to spitting in Santa Anna’s face.

And I could go on and on and on. Even the ‘de la Pena’ manuscript, purportedly penned by an obscure Mexican officer in the battle, has parts proven to be forgeries.
But the one truth not to be denied is the battle took place and over 180 defenders died. Their bodies were burned, an indication of Santa Anna’s disrespect for the Alamo defenders.

Consensus has it that the ashes were placed in a small casket and buried at the San Fernando Cathedral, at least the ashes that could be gathered from the three pyres. Some rumors have it the ashes were buried in deep holes, others that they were left to nature, some even that they were thrown into the San Antonio River.

Many if any of the myths, legends, rumors, or folklore will ever be verified.

One of the more interesting, yet less discussed questions is whether Sam Houston ordered the Alamo blown up. His distracters say no. This was just another way of Houston covering up his own mistakes.

And the orders he sent Travis on January 16 to do so were destroyed; however on the 17th, Houston did write Governor stating he had ordered the garrison destroyed, and if the governor so wished, all of the cannons and munitions would be destroyed also.

One incident every Texan remembers is the ‘line in the sand.’ Did Travis draw it?

The answer is another enfolded in the blanket of myth. Believe it or not, the line in the sand was never mentioned until 1873 thirty-seven years later when William Zuber interviewed Louis Rose, who fled the Alamo.

Rose verified Travis asked those who wanted to leave to step forward. No one did, but during the night, Rose fled.

Zuber later admitted he made up not only Travis’s’ speech, but came up with the drama of the line in the sand himself.

But, in 1899, a Madam Candelaria, who was held in high esteem by the community for decades, claimed she not only nursed Bowie on his bed of consumption, but also saw Travis draw the line in the sand.

For a while, rumor had it Travis committed suicide by stabbing himself, a version Houston preferred for he never cared for the man. According to Francisco Ruiz, who identified Travis, there was a bullet hole in his forehead. Sort of a difficult spot for one to commit suicide, huh?

And what about the flag? No, it wasn’t the Lone Star like you see at most movies. Probably the thirteen-day siege began under the Mexican Tri Color, possibly with the date 1824 on it.

That was the Mexican flag of Independence, the one under which about thirty thousand Americans came to live the Mexican state that would be known as Texas. Chances were several flags flew, but according to Walter Lord, ‘A Time to Stand’, Santa Anna sent the New Orleans Gray flag back to Mexico City, the only standard remaining under which the men an the Alamo died.

What are they? Myths? Truths? Me, I prefer the myths of my heroes. I don’t want them to change.