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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30267-0.txt b/30267-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5adf4ca --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,524 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30267 *** + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright + on this publication was renewed. + + + Remember the + + Alamo! + + + + By R. R. FEHRENBACH + + + + THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS + ON THE MODERN SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY I HAVE SEEN--A + REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING LITTLE TALE.... + + + + ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR + + * * * * * + + + + +Toward sundown, in the murky drizzle, the man who called himself Ord +brought Lieutenant colonel William Barrett Travis word that the Mexican +light cavalry had completely invested Bexar, and that some light guns were +being set up across the San Antonio River. Even as he spoke, there was a +flash and bang from the west, and a shell screamed over the old mission +walls. Travis looked worried. + +[Illustration:] + +"What kind of guns?" he asked. + +"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothing +of respectable siege caliber. General Santa Anna has had to move too fast +for any big stuff to keep up." Ord spoke in his odd accent. After all, he +was a Britainer, or some other kind of foreigner. But he spoke good +Spanish, and he seemed to know everything. In the four or five days since +he had appeared he had become very useful to Travis. + +Frowning, Travis asked, "How many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?" + +"Not more than a thousand, now," the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man said +confidently. "But when the main body arrives, there'll be four, five +thousand." + +Travis shook his head. "How do you get all this information, Ord? You +recite it like you had read it all some place--like it were history." + +Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't know _everything_, colonel. That is why I +had to come here. There is so much we don't know about what happened.... I +mean, sir, what will happen--in the Alamo." His sharp eyes grew puzzled for +an instant. "And some things don't seem to match up, somehow--" + +Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord talked queerly at times, and +Travis suspected he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, for the +man was undoubtedly a Britainer aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon's +thousand-year Empire. Travis had heard about the detention camps and the +charcoal ovens ... but once, when he had mentioned the _Empereur's_ sack of +London in '06, Ord had gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he had +forgotten completely. + +But John Ord, or whatever his name was, seemed to be the only man in the +Texas forces who understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to do. +Now Travis looked around at the thick adobe wall surrounding the old +mission in which they stood. In the cold, yellowish twilight even the +flaring cook fires of his hundred and eighty-two men could not dispel the +ghostly air that clung to the old place. Travis shivered involuntarily. But +the walls were thick, and they could turn one-pounders. He asked, "What was +it you called this place, Ord ... the Mexican name?" + +"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady excitement seemed to burn in the +Britainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna won't forget that name, you can be +sure. You'll want to talk to the other officers now, sir? About the message +we drew up for Sam Houston?" + +"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. He watched Ord head for the walls. +No doubt about it, Ord understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to +do here. So few of the others seemed to care. + +Travis was suddenly very glad that John Ord had shown up when he did. + +On the walls, Ord found the man he sought, broad-shouldered and tall in a +fancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's compliments, sir, and he desires +your presence in the chapel." + +The big man put away the knife with which he had been whittling. The +switchblade snicked back and disappeared into a side pocket of the jacket, +while Ord watched it with fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got his +britches hot about this time?" the big man asked. + +"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said stiffly and moved on. + +_Bang-bang-bang_ roared the small Mexican cannon from across the river. +_Pow-pow-pow!_ The little balls only chipped dust from the thick adobe +walls. Ord smiled. + +He found the second man he sought, a lean man with a weathered face, +leaning against a wall and chewing tobacco. This man wore a long, fringed, +leather lounge jacket, and he carried a guitar slung beside his Rock Island +rifle. He squinted up at Ord. "I know ... I know," he muttered. "Willy +Travis is in an uproar again. You reckon that colonel's commission that +Congress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos give him swelled his head?" + +Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, the commandant desires an officers' +conference in the chapel, now." Ord was somewhat annoyed. He had not +realized he would find these Americans so--distasteful. Hardly preferable +to Mexicans, really. Not at all as he had imagined. + +For an instant he wished he had chosen Drake and the Armada instead of this +pack of ruffians--but no, he had never been able to stand sea sickness. He +couldn't have taken the Channel, not even for five minutes. + +And there was no changing now. He had chosen this place and time carefully, +at great expense--actually, at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted twice, +and he had had a hard time bringing her in. But it had got him here at +last. And, because for a historian he had always been an impetuous and +daring man, he grinned now, thinking of the glory that was to come. And he +was a participant--much better than a ringside seat! Only he would have to +be careful, at the last, to slip away. + +John Ord knew very well how this coming battle had ended, back here in +1836. + +He marched back to William Barrett Travis, clicked heels smartly. Travis' +eyes glowed; he was the only senior officer here who loved military +punctilio. "Sir, they are on the way." + +"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be a +battle, as we know. I know so little about you. If something should happen +to you, is there anyone to write? Across the water?" + +Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid my ancestor wouldn't understand." + +Travis shrugged. Who was he to say that Ord was crazy? In this day and age, +any man with vision was looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt closer to Ord +than to the others. + + * * * * * + +The two officers Ord had summoned entered the chapel. The big man in the +Mexican jacket tried to dominate the wood table at which they sat. He +towered over the slender, nervous Travis, but the commandant, +straight-backed and arrogant, did not give an inch. "Boys, you know Santa +Anna has invested us. We've been fired on all day--" He seemed to be +listening for something. _Wham!_ Outside, a cannon split the dusk with +flame and sound as it fired from the walls. "There is my answer!" + +The man in the lounge coat shrugged. "What I want to know is what our +orders are. What does old Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress once. Sam's +got good sense; he can smell the way the wind's blowin'." He stopped +speaking and hit his guitar a few licks. He winked across the table at the +officer in the Mexican jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, Jim?" + +"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good man, although I don't think he ever met a +payroll." + +"General Houston's leaving it up to me," Travis told them. + +"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. "So what you figurin' to do, +Bill?" + +Travis stood up in the weak, flickering candlelight, one hand on the +polished hilt of his saber. The other two men winced, watching him. +"Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull his militia together while he falls +back. You know, Texas was woefully unprepared for a contest at arms. The +general's idea is to draw Santa Anna as far into Texas as he can, then hit +him when he's extended, at the right place, and right time. But Houston +needs more time--Santa Anna's moved faster than any of us anticipated. +Unless we can stop the Mexican Army and take a little steam out of them, +General Houston's in trouble." + +Jim flicked the knife blade in and out. "Go on." + +"This is where we come in, gentlemen. Santa Anna can't leave a force of one +hundred eighty men in his rear. If we hold fast, he must attack us. But he +has no siege equipment, not even large field cannon." Travis' eye gleamed. +"Think of it, boys! He'll have to mount a frontal attack, against protected +American riflemen. Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him a few things +about that!" + +"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, anybody tell you there's maybe four or +five thousand Mexicaners comin'?" + +"Let them come. Less will leave!" + +But Jim, sour-faced turned to the other man. "Davey? You got something to +say?" + +"Hell, yes. How do we get out, after we done pinned Santa Anna down? You +thought of that, Billy boy?" + +Travis shrugged. "There is an element of grave risk, of course. Ord, +where's the document, the message you wrote up for me? Ah, thank you." +Travis cleared his throat. "Here's what I'm sending on to general Houston." +He read, "Commandancy of the Alamo, February 24, 1836 ... are you sure of +that date, Ord?" + +"Oh, I'm sure of that," Ord said. + +"Never mind--if you're wrong we can change it later. 'To the People of +Texas and all Americans in the World. Fellow Freemen and Compatriots! I am +besieged with a thousand or more Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have +sustained a continual bombardment for many hours but have not lost a man. +The enemy has demanded surrender at discretion, otherwise, the garrison is +to be put to the sword, if taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon +shot, and our flag still waves proudly over 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--" He paused, +frowning, "This language seems pretty old-fashioned, Ord--" + +"Oh, no, sir. That's exactly right," Ord murmured. + +"'... 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 his honor or that of his homeland. VICTORY OR DEATH!'" + + * * * * * + +Travis stopped reading, looked up. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" Ord breathed. +"The greatest words of defiance ever written in the English tongue--and so +much more literate than that chap at Bascogne." + +"You mean to send that?" Jim gasped. + +The man called Davey was holding his head in his hands. + +"You object, Colonel Bowie?" Travis asked icily. + +"Oh, cut that 'colonel' stuff, Bill," Bowie said. "It's only a National +Guard title, and I like 'Jim' better, even though I am a pretty important +man. Damn right I have an objection! Why, that message is almost +aggressive. You'd think we wanted to fight Santa Anna! You want us to be +marked down as warmongers? It'll give us trouble when we get to the +negotiation table--" + +Travis' head turned. "Colonel Crockett?" + +"What Jim says goes for me, too. And this: I'd change that part about all +Americans, et cetera. You don't want anybody to think we think we're better +than the Mexicans. After all, Americans are a minority in the world. Why +not make it 'all men who love security?' That'd have world-wide appeal--" + +"Oh, Crockett," Travis hissed. + +Crockett stood up. "Don't use that tone of voice to me, Billy Travis! That +piece of paper you got don't make you no better'n us. I ran for Congress +twice, and won. I know what the people want--" + +"What the people want doesn't mean a damn right now," Travis said harshly. +"Don't you realize the tyrant is at the gates?" + +Crockett rolled his eyes heavenward. "Never thought I'd hear a good +American say that! Billy, you'll never run for office--" + +Bowie held up a hand, cutting into Crockett's talk. "All right, Davey. Hold +up. You ain't runnin' for Congress now. Bill, the main thing I don't like +in your whole message is that part about victory or death. That's got to +go. Don't ask us to sell that to the troops!" + +Travis closed his eyes briefly. "Boys, listen. We don't have to tell the +men about this. They don't need to know the real story until it's too late +for them to get out. And then we shall cover ourselves with such glory that +none of us shall ever be forgotten. Americans are the best fighters in the +world when they are trapped. They teach this in the Foot School back on the +Chatahoochee. And if we die, to die for one's country is sweet--" + +"Hell with that," Crockett drawled. "I don't mind dyin', but not for these +big landowners like Jim Bowie here. I just been thinkin'--I don't own +nothing in Texas." + +"I resent that," Bowie shouted. "You know very well I volunteered, after I +sent my wife off to Acapulco to be with her family." With an effort, he +calmed himself. "Look, Travis. I have some reputation as a fighting +man--you know I lived through the gang wars back home. It's obvious this +Alamo place is indefensible, even if we had a thousand men." + +"But we must delay Santa Anna at all costs--" + +Bowie took out a fine, dark Mexican cigar and whittled at it with his +blade. Then he lit it, saying around it, "All right, let's all calm down. +Nothing a group of good men can't settle around a table. Now listen. I got +in with this revolution at first because I thought old Emperor Iturbide +would listen to reason and lower taxes. But nothin's worked out, because +hot-heads like you, Travis, queered the deal. All this yammerin' about +liberty! Mexico is a Republic, under an Emperor, not some kind of +democracy, and we can't change that. Let's talk some sense before it's too +late. We're all too old and too smart to be wavin' the flag like it's the +Fourth of July. Sooner or later, we're goin' to have to sit down and talk +with the Mexicans. And like Davey said, I own a million hectares, and I've +always paid minimum wage, and my wife's folks are way up there in the +Imperial Government of the Republic of Mexico. That means I got influence +in all the votin' groups, includin' the American Immigrant, since I'm a +minority group member myself. I think I can talk to Santa Anna, and even to +old Iturbide. If we sign a treaty now with Santa Anna, acknowledge the law +of the land, I think our lives and property rights will be respected--" He +cocked an eye toward Crockett. + +"Makes sense, Jim. That's the way we do it in Congress. Compromise, +everybody happy. We never allowed ourselves to be led nowhere we didn't +want to go, I can tell you! And Bill, you got to admit that we're in better +bargaining position if we're out in the open, than if old Santa Anna's got +us penned up in this old Alamo." + +"Ord," Travis said despairingly. "Ord, you understand. Help me! Make them +listen!" + + * * * * * + +Ord moved into the candlelight, his lean face sweating. "Gentlemen, this is +all wrong! It doesn't happen this way--" + +Crockett sneered, "Who asked you, Ord? I'll bet you ain't even got a poll +tax!" + +Decisively, Bowie said, "We're free men, Travis, and we won't be led around +like cattle. How about it, Davey? Think you could handle the rear guard, if +we try to move out of here?" + +"Hell, yes! Just so we're movin'!" + +"O.K. Put it to a vote of the men outside. Do we stay, and maybe get +croaked, or do we fall back and conserve our strength until we need it? +Take care of it, eh, Davey?" + +Crockett picked up his guitar and went outside. + +Travis roared, "This is insubordination! Treason!" He drew his saber, but +Bowie took it from him and broke it in two. Then the big man pulled his +knife. + +"Stay back, Ord. The Alamo isn't worth the bones of a Britainer, either." + +"Colonel Bowie, please," Ord cried. "You don't understand! You _must_ +defend the Alamo! This is the turning point in the winning of the west! If +Houston is beaten, Texas will never join the Union! There will be no +Mexican War. No California, no nation stretching from sea to shining sea! +This is the Americans' manifest destiny. You are the hope of the future ... +you will save the world from Hitler, from Bolshevism--" + +"Crazy as a hoot owl," Bowie said sadly. "Ord, you and Travis got to look +at it both ways. We ain't all in the right in this war--we Americans got +our faults, too." + +"But you are free men," Ord whispered. "Vulgar, opinionated, brutal--but +free! You are still better than any breed who kneels to tyranny--" + +Crockett came in. "O.K., Jim." + +"How'd it go?" + +"Fifty-one per cent for hightailin' it right now." + +Bowie smiled. "That's a flat majority. Let's make tracks." + +"Comin', Bill?" Crockett asked. "You're O.K., but you just don't know how +to be one of the boys. You got to learn that no dog is better'n any other." + +"No," Travis croaked hoarsely. "I stay. Stay or go, we shall all die like +dogs, anyway. Boys, for the last time! Don't reveal our weakness to the +enemy--" + +"What weakness? We're stronger than them. Americans could whip the Mexicans +any day, if we wanted to. But the thing to do is make 'em talk, not fight. +So long, Bill." + +The two big men stepped outside. In the night there was a sudden clatter of +hoofs as the Texans mounted and rode. From across the river came a brief +spatter of musket fire, then silence. In the dark, there had been no +difficulty in breaking through the Mexican lines. + +Inside the chapel, John Ord's mouth hung slackly. He muttered, "Am I +insane? It didn't happen this way--it couldn't! The books can't be _that_ +wrong--" + +In the candlelight, Travis hung his head. "We tried, John. Perhaps it was a +forlorn hope at best. Even if we had defeated Santa Anna, or delayed him, I +do not think the Indian Nations would have let Houston get help from the +United States." + +Ord continued his dazed muttering, hardly hearing. + +"We need a contiguous frontier with Texas," Travis continued slowly, just +above a whisper. "But we Americans have never broken a treaty with the +Indians, and pray God we never shall. _We_ aren't like the Mexicans, always +pushing, always grabbing off New Mexico, Arizona, California. _We_ aren't +colonial oppressors, thank God! No, it wouldn't have worked out, even if we +American immigrants had secured our rights in Texas--" He lifted a short, +heavy, percussion pistol in his hand and cocked it. "I hate to say it, but +perhaps if we hadn't taken Payne and Jefferson so seriously--if we could +only have paid lip service, and done what we really wanted to do, in our +hearts ... no matter. I won't live to see our final disgrace." + +He put the pistol to his head and blew out his brains. + + * * * * * + +Ord was still gibbering when the Mexican cavalry stormed into the old +mission, pulling down the flag and seizing him, dragging him before the +resplendent little general in green and gold. + +Since he was the only prisoner, Santa Anna questioned Ord carefully. When +the sharp point of a bayonet had been thrust half an inch into his stomach, +the Britainer seemed to come around. When he started speaking, and the +Mexicans realized he was English, it went better with him. Ord was +obviously mad, it seemed to Santa Anna, but since he spoke English and +seemed educated, he could be useful. Santa Anna didn't mind the raving; he +understood all about Napoleon's detention camps and what they had done to +Britainers over there. In fact, Santa Anna was thinking of setting up a +couple of those camps himself. When they had milked Ord dry, they threw him +on a horse and took him along. + +Thus John Ord had an excellent view of the battlefield when Santa Anna's +cannon broke the American lines south of the Trinity. Unable to get his men +across to safety, Sam Houston died leading the last, desperate charge +against the Mexican regulars. After that, the American survivors were too +tired to run from the cavalry that pinned them against the flooding river. +Most of them died there. Santa Anna expressed complete indifference to what +happened to the Texans' women and children. + +Mexican soldiers found Jim Bowie hiding in a hut, wearing a plain linen +tunic and pretending to be a civilian. They would not have discovered his +identity had not some of the Texan women cried out, "Colonel Bowie--Colonel +Bowie!" as he was led into the Mexican camp. + +He was hauled before Santa Anna, and Ord was summoned to watch. "Well, don +Jaime," Santa Anna remarked, "You have been a foolish man. I promised your +wife's uncle to send you to Acapulco safely, though of course your lands +are forfeit. You understand we must have lands for the veterans' program +when this campaign is over--" Santa Anna smiled then. "Besides, since Ord +here has told me how instrumental you were in the abandonment of the Alamo, +I think the Emperor will agree to mercy in your case. You know, don Jaime, +your compatriots had me worried back there. The Alamo might have been a +tough nut to crack ... _pues_, no matter." + +And since Santa Anna had always been broadminded, not objecting to light +skin or immigrant background, he invited Bowie to dinner that night. + + * * * * * + +Santa Anna turned to Ord. "But if we could catch this rascally war +criminal, Crockett ... however, I fear he has escaped us. He slipped over +the river with a fake passport, and the Indians have interned him." + +"SÃ, _Señor Presidente_," Ord said dully. + +"Please, don't call me that," Santa Anna cried, looking around. "True, many +of us officers have political ambitions, but Emperor Iturbide is old and +vain. It could mean my head--" + +Suddenly, Ord's head was erect, and the old, clear light was in his blue +eyes. "Now I understand!" he shouted. "I thought Travis was raving back +there, before he shot himself--and your talk of the Emperor! American +respect for Indian rights! Jeffersonian form of government! Oh, those +ponces who peddled me that X-4-A--the _track jumper_! I'm not back in my +own past. I've jumped the time track--_I'm back in a screaming +alternate!_" + +"Please, not so loud, _Señor_ Ord," Santa Anna sighed. "Now, we must shoot +a few more American officers, of course. I regret this, you understand, and +I shall no doubt be much criticized in French Canada and Russia, where +there are still civilized values. But we must establish the Republic of the +Empire once and for all upon this continent, that aristocratic tyranny +shall not perish from the earth. Of course, as an Englishman, you +understand perfectly, Señor Ord." + +"Of course, excellency," Ord said. + +"There are soft hearts--soft heads, I say--in Mexico who cry for civil +rights for the Americans. But I must make sure that Mexican dominance is +never again threatened north of the Rio Grande." + +"_Seguro_, excellency," Ord said, suddenly. If the bloody X-4-A _had_ +jumped the track, there was no getting back, none at all. He was stuck +here. Ord's blue eyes narrowed. "After all, it ... it is manifest destiny +that the Latin peoples of North America meet at the center of the +continent. Canada and Mexico shall share the Mississippi." + +Santa Anna's dark eyes glowed. "You say what I have often thought. You are +a man of vision, and much sense. You realize the _Indios_ must go, whether +they were here first or not. I think I will make you my secretary, with the +rank of captain." + +"_Gracias_, Excellency." + +"Now, let us write my communique to the capital, _Capitán_ Ord. We must +describe how the American abandonment of the Alamo allowed me to press the +traitor Houston so closely he had no chance to maneuver his men into the +trap he sought. _Ay, Capitán_, it is a cardinal principle of the +Anglo-Saxons, to get themselves into a trap from which they must fight +their way out. This I never let them do, which is why I succeed where +others fail ... you said something, _Capitán_?" + +"_SÃ_, Excellency. I said, I shall title our communique: 'Remember the +Alamo,'" Ord said, standing at attention. + +"_Bueno!_ You have a gift for words. Indeed, if ever we feel the _gringos_ +are too much for us, your words shall once again remind us of the truth!" +Santa Anna smiled. "I think I shall make you a major. You have indeed +coined a phrase which shall live in history forever!" + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. Fehrenbach + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30267 *** diff --git a/30267-h/30267-h.htm b/30267-h/30267-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa6e30d --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/30267-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,919 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. Fehrenbach + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +/* Images */ +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30267 ***</div> + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + + +<h1>Remember the<br /> + +Alamo!</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>By R. R. FEHRENBACH</h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF +THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS +ON THE MODERN SOCIAL +PHILOSOPHY I HAVE +SEEN—A REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING +LITTLE TALE....</p></div> +<p> </p> + + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>oward sundown, in the murky drizzle, +the man who called himself Ord +brought Lieutenant colonel William +Barrett Travis word that the Mexican +light cavalry had completely invested +Bexar, and that some light guns were +being set up across the San Antonio +River. Even as he spoke, there was a +flash and bang from the west, and a +shell screamed over the old mission +walls. Travis looked worried.</p> + +<div> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_001_01.jpg" width="199" height="337" alt="" /> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_001_02.jpg" width="500" height="390" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>"What kind of guns?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord +said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothing +of respectable siege caliber. General +Santa Anna has had to move too +fast for any big stuff to keep up." Ord +spoke in his odd accent. After all, he +was a Britainer, or some other kind of +foreigner. But he spoke good Spanish, +and he seemed to know everything. +In the four or five days since he had +appeared he had become very useful +to Travis.</p> + +<p>Frowning, Travis asked, "How +many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?"</p> + +<p>"Not more than a thousand, now," +the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man +said confidently. "But when the main +body arrives, there'll be four, five +thousand."</p> + +<p>Travis shook his head. "How do +you get all this information, Ord? +You recite it like you had read it all +some place—like it were history."</p> + +<p>Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't +know <i>everything</i>, colonel. That is why +I had to come here. There is so much +we don't know about what happened.... I +mean, sir, what will happen—in the Alamo." +His sharp eyes grew puzzled for an instant. +"And some things don't seem to match up, +somehow—"</p> + +<p>Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord +talked queerly at times, and Travis suspected +he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, +for the man was undoubtedly a Britainer +aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon's thousand-year +Empire. Travis had heard about +the detention camps and the charcoal ovens +... but once, when he had mentioned the +<i>Empereur's</i> sack of London in '06, Ord had +gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he +had forgotten completely.</p> + +<p>But John Ord, or whatever his +name was, seemed to be the only man +in the Texas forces who understood +what William Barrett Travis was trying +to do. Now Travis looked around +at the thick adobe wall surrounding +the old mission in which they stood. +In the cold, yellowish twilight even +the flaring cook fires of his hundred +and eighty-two men could not dispel +the ghostly air that clung to the old +place. Travis shivered involuntarily. +But the walls were thick, and they +could turn one-pounders. He asked, +"What was it you called this place, +Ord ... the Mexican name?"</p> + +<p>"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady +excitement seemed to burn in the +Britainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna +won't forget that name, you can be +sure. You'll want to talk to the other +officers now, sir? About the message +we drew up for Sam Houston?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. +He watched Ord head for the +walls. No doubt about it, Ord understood +what William Barrett Travis +was trying to do here. So few of the +others seemed to care.</p> + +<p>Travis was suddenly very glad that +John Ord had shown up when he did.</p> + +<p>On the walls, Ord found the man +he sought, broad-shouldered and tall +in a fancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's +compliments, sir, and he +desires your presence in the chapel."</p> + +<p>The big man put away the knife +with which he had been whittling. +The switchblade snicked back and +disappeared into a side pocket +of the jacket, while Ord watched it with +fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got +his britches hot about this time?" the +big man asked.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said +stiffly and moved on.</p> + +<p><i>Bang-bang-bang</i> roared the small +Mexican cannon from across the river. +<i>Pow-pow-pow!</i> The little balls only +chipped dust from the thick adobe +walls. Ord smiled.</p> + +<p>He found the second man he +sought, a lean man with a weathered +face, leaning against a wall and chewing +tobacco. This man wore a long, +fringed, leather lounge jacket, and he +carried a guitar slung beside his Rock +Island rifle. He squinted up at Ord. +"I know ... I know," he muttered. +"Willy Travis is in an uproar again. +You reckon that colonel's commission +that Congress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos +give him swelled his +head?"</p> + +<p>Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, +the commandant desires an officers' +conference in the chapel, now." Ord +was somewhat annoyed. He had not +realized he would find these Americans +so—distasteful. Hardly preferable +to Mexicans, really. Not at all as +he had imagined.</p> + +<p>For an instant he wished he had +chosen Drake and the Armada instead +of this pack of ruffians—but no, he +had never been able to stand sea sickness. +He couldn't have taken the +Channel, not even for five minutes.</p> + +<p>And there was no changing now. +He had chosen this place and time +carefully, at great expense—actually, +at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted +twice, and he had had a hard time +bringing her in. But it had got him +here at last. And, because for a historian +he had always been an impetuous +and daring man, he grinned now, +thinking of the glory that was to +come. And he was a participant—much +better than a ringside seat! +Only he would have to be careful, at +the last, to slip away.</p> + +<p>John Ord knew very well how this +coming battle had ended, back here +in 1836.</p> + +<p>He marched back to William Barrett +Travis, clicked heels smartly. +Travis' eyes glowed; he was the only +senior officer here who loved military +punctilio. "Sir, they are on the way."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated +a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be +a battle, as we know. I know so little +about you. If something should happen +to you, is there anyone to write? +Across the water?"</p> + +<p>Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid +my ancestor wouldn't understand."</p> + +<p>Travis shrugged. Who was he to +say that Ord was crazy? In this day +and age, any man with vision was +looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt +closer to Ord than to the others.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he two officers Ord had summoned +entered the chapel. The big +man in the Mexican jacket tried to +dominate the wood table at which +they sat. He towered over the slender, +nervous Travis, but the commandant, +straight-backed and arrogant, did not +give an inch. "Boys, you know Santa +Anna has invested us. We've been +fired on all day—" He seemed to be +listening for something. <i>Wham!</i> Outside, +a cannon split the dusk with +flame and sound as it fired from the +walls. "There is my answer!"</p> + +<p>The man in the lounge coat +shrugged. "What I want to know is +what our orders are. What does old +Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress +once. Sam's got good sense; he +can smell the way the wind's blowin'." +He stopped speaking and hit his +guitar a few licks. He winked across +the table at the officer in the Mexican +jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, +Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good +man, although I don't think he ever +met a payroll."</p> + +<p>"General Houston's leaving it up to +me," Travis told them.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. +"So what you figurin' to do, +Bill?"</p> + +<p>Travis stood up in the weak, flickering +candlelight, one hand on the +polished hilt of his saber. The other +two men winced, watching him. +"Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull +his militia together while he falls +back. You know, Texas was woefully +unprepared for a contest at arms. The +general's idea is to draw Santa Anna +as far into Texas as he can, then hit +him when he's extended, at the right +place, and right time. But Houston +needs more time—Santa Anna's +moved faster than any of us anticipated. +Unless we can stop the Mexican +Army and take a little steam out +of them, General Houston's in trouble."</p> + +<p>Jim flicked the knife blade in and +out. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"This is where we come in, gentlemen. +Santa Anna can't leave a force +of one hundred eighty men in his +rear. If we hold fast, he must attack +us. But he has no siege equipment, +not even large field cannon." Travis' +eye gleamed. "Think of it, boys! +He'll have to mount a frontal attack, +against protected American riflemen. +Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him +a few things about that!"</p> + +<p>"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, +anybody tell you there's maybe four +or five thousand Mexicaners comin'?"</p> + +<p>"Let them come. Less will leave!"</p> + +<p>But Jim, sour-faced turned to the +other man. "Davey? You got something +to say?"</p> + +<p>"Hell, yes. How do we get out, +after we done pinned Santa Anna +down? You thought of that, Billy +boy?"</p> + +<p>Travis shrugged. "There is an element +of grave risk, of course. Ord, +where's the document, the message +you wrote up for me? Ah, thank +you." Travis cleared his throat. +"Here's what I'm sending on to general +Houston." He read, "Commandancy +of the Alamo, February 24, +1836 ... are you sure of that date, +Ord?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure of that," Ord said.</p> + +<p>"Never mind—if you're wrong we +can change it later. 'To the People of +Texas and all Americans in the +World. Fellow Freemen and Compatriots! +I am besieged with a thousand +or more Mexicans under Santa Anna. +I have sustained a continual bombardment +for many hours but have not +lost a man. The enemy has demanded +surrender at discretion, otherwise, the +garrison is to be put to the sword, if +taken. I have answered the demand +with a cannon shot, and our flag still +waves proudly over 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—" He paused, +frowning, "This language seems pretty +old-fashioned, Ord—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir. That's exactly right," +Ord murmured.</p> + +<p>"'... 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 his honor or that of his homeland. +VICTORY OR DEATH!'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>ravis stopped reading, looked up. +"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Ord +breathed. "The greatest words of defiance +ever written in the English +tongue—and so much more literate +than that chap at Bascogne."</p> + +<p>"You mean to send that?" Jim +gasped.</p> + +<p>The man called Davey was holding +his head in his hands.</p> + +<p>"You object, Colonel Bowie?" Travis +asked icily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cut that 'colonel' stuff, Bill," +Bowie said. "It's only a National +Guard title, and I like 'Jim' better, +even though I am a pretty important +man. Damn right I have an objection! +Why, that message is almost aggressive. +You'd think we wanted to fight +Santa Anna! You want us to be +marked down as warmongers? It'll +give us trouble when we get to the +negotiation table—"</p> + +<p>Travis' head turned. "Colonel +Crockett?"</p> + +<p>"What Jim says goes for me, too. +And this: I'd change that part about +all Americans, et cetera. You don't +want anybody to think we think we're +better than the Mexicans. After all, +Americans are a minority in the +world. Why not make it 'all men who +love security?' That'd have world-wide +appeal—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Crockett," Travis hissed.</p> + +<p>Crockett stood up. "Don't use that +tone of voice to me, Billy Travis! +That piece of paper you got don't +make you no better'n us. I ran for +Congress twice, and won. I know what +the people want—"</p> + +<p>"What the people want doesn't +mean a damn right now," Travis said +harshly. "Don't you realize the tyrant +is at the gates?"</p> + +<p>Crockett rolled his eyes heavenward. +"Never thought I'd hear a good +American say that! Billy, you'll never +run for office—"</p> + +<p>Bowie held up a hand, cutting into +Crockett's talk. "All right, Davey. +Hold up. You ain't runnin' for Congress +now. Bill, the main thing I +don't like in your whole message is +that part about victory or death. +That's got to go. Don't ask us to sell +that to the troops!"</p> + +<p>Travis closed his eyes briefly. +"Boys, listen. We don't have to tell +the men about this. They don't need +to know the real story until it's too +late for them to get out. And then +we shall cover ourselves with such +glory that none of us shall ever be +forgotten. Americans are the best +fighters in the world when they are +trapped. They teach this in the Foot +School back on the Chatahoochee. +And if we die, to die for one's country +is sweet—"</p> + +<p>"Hell with that," Crockett drawled. +"I don't mind dyin', but not for these +big landowners like Jim Bowie here. +I just been thinkin'—I don't own +nothing in Texas."</p> + +<p>"I resent that," Bowie shouted. +"You know very well I volunteered, +after I sent my wife off to Acapulco +to be with her family." With an effort, +he calmed himself. "Look, Travis. I +have some reputation as a fighting +man—you know I lived through the +gang wars back home. It's obvious +this Alamo place is indefensible, even +if we had a thousand men."</p> + +<p>"But we must delay Santa Anna at +all costs—"</p> + +<p>Bowie took out a fine, dark Mexican +cigar and whittled at it with his +blade. Then he lit it, saying around it, +"All right, let's all calm down. Nothing +a group of good men can't settle +around a table. Now listen. I got in +with this revolution at first because I +thought old Emperor Iturbide would +listen to reason and lower taxes. But +nothin's worked out, because hot-heads +like you, Travis, queered the +deal. All this yammerin' about liberty! +Mexico is a Republic, under an +Emperor, not some kind of democracy, +and we can't change that. Let's talk +some sense before it's too late. We're +all too old and too smart to be wavin' +the flag like it's the Fourth of July. +Sooner or later, we're goin' to have to +sit down and talk with the Mexicans. +And like Davey said, I own a million +hectares, and I've always paid minimum +wage, and my wife's folks are +way up there in the Imperial Government +of the Republic of Mexico. +That means I got influence in all the +votin' groups, includin' the American +Immigrant, since I'm a minority +group member myself. I think I can +talk to Santa Anna, and even to old +Iturbide. If we sign a treaty now with +Santa Anna, acknowledge the law of +the land, I think our lives and property +rights will be respected—" He +cocked an eye toward Crockett.</p> + +<p>"Makes sense, Jim. That's the way +we do it in Congress. Compromise, +everybody happy. We never allowed +ourselves to be led nowhere we didn't +want to go, I can tell you! And Bill, +you got to admit that we're in better +bargaining position if we're out in the +open, than if old Santa Anna's got us +penned up in this old Alamo."</p> + +<p>"Ord," Travis said despairingly. +"Ord, you understand. Help me! +Make them listen!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>rd moved into the candlelight, +his lean face sweating. "Gentlemen, +this is all wrong! It doesn't happen +this way—"</p> + +<p>Crockett sneered, "Who asked you, +Ord? I'll bet you ain't even got a poll +tax!"</p> + +<p>Decisively, Bowie said, "We're free +men, Travis, and we won't be led +around like cattle. How about it, +Davey? Think you could handle the +rear guard, if we try to move out of +here?"</p> + +<p>"Hell, yes! Just so we're movin'!"</p> + +<p>"O.K. Put it to a vote of the men +outside. Do we stay, and maybe get +croaked, or do we fall back and conserve +our strength until we need it? +Take care of it, eh, Davey?"</p> + +<p>Crockett picked up his guitar and +went outside.</p> + +<p>Travis roared, "This is insubordination! +Treason!" He drew his saber, but +Bowie took it from him and broke it +in two. Then the big man pulled his +knife.</p> + +<p>"Stay back, Ord. The Alamo isn't +worth the bones of a Britainer, +either."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Bowie, please," Ord cried. +"You don't understand! You <i>must</i> defend +the Alamo! This is the turning +point in the winning of the west! If +Houston is beaten, Texas will never +join the Union! There will be no +Mexican War. No California, no nation +stretching from sea to shining +sea! This is the Americans' manifest +destiny. You are the hope of the future +... you will save the world +from Hitler, from Bolshevism—"</p> + +<p>"Crazy as a hoot owl," Bowie said +sadly. "Ord, you and Travis got to look +at it both ways. We ain't all in the +right in this war—we Americans got +our faults, too."</p> + +<p>"But you are free men," Ord whispered. +"Vulgar, opinionated, brutal—but +free! You are still better than any +breed who kneels to tyranny—"</p> + +<p>Crockett came in. "O.K., Jim."</p> + +<p>"How'd it go?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty-one per cent for hightailin' +it right now."</p> + +<p>Bowie smiled. "That's a flat majority. +Let's make tracks."</p> + +<p>"Comin', Bill?" Crockett asked. +"You're O.K., but you just don't know +how to be one of the boys. You got +to learn that no dog is better'n any +other."</p> + +<p>"No," Travis croaked hoarsely. "I +stay. Stay or go, we shall all die like +dogs, anyway. Boys, for the last time! +Don't reveal our weakness to the +enemy—"</p> + +<p>"What weakness? We're stronger +than them. Americans could whip the +Mexicans any day, if we wanted to. +But the thing to do is make 'em talk, +not fight. So long, Bill."</p> + +<p>The two big men stepped outside. +In the night there was a sudden clatter +of hoofs as the Texans mounted and +rode. From across the river came a +brief spatter of musket fire, then silence. +In the dark, there had been no +difficulty in breaking through the +Mexican lines.</p> + +<p>Inside the chapel, John Ord's +mouth hung slackly. He muttered, +"Am I insane? It didn't happen this +way—it couldn't! The books can't be +<i>that</i> wrong—"</p> + +<p>In the candlelight, Travis hung his +head. "We tried, John. Perhaps it was +a forlorn hope at best. Even if we had +defeated Santa Anna, or delayed him, +I do not think the Indian Nations +would have let Houston get help from +the United States."</p> + +<p>Ord continued his dazed muttering, +hardly hearing.</p> + +<p>"We need a contiguous frontier +with Texas," Travis continued slowly, +just above a whisper. "But we Americans +have never broken a treaty with +the Indians, and pray God we never +shall. <i>We</i> aren't like the Mexicans, +always pushing, always grabbing off +New Mexico, Arizona, California. <i>We</i> +aren't colonial oppressors, thank God! +No, it wouldn't have worked out, +even if we American immigrants had +secured our rights in Texas—" He +lifted a short, heavy, percussion pistol +in his hand and cocked it. "I hate to +say it, but perhaps if we hadn't taken +Payne and Jefferson so seriously—if +we could only have paid lip service, +and done what we really wanted to +do, in our hearts ... no matter. I +won't live to see our final disgrace."</p> + +<p>He put the pistol to his head and +blew out his brains.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>rd was still gibbering when the +Mexican cavalry stormed into the old +mission, pulling down the flag and +seizing him, dragging him before the +resplendent little general in green +and gold.</p> + +<p>Since he was the only prisoner, +Santa Anna questioned Ord carefully. +When the sharp point of a bayonet +had been thrust half an inch +into his stomach, the Britainer seemed +to come around. When he started +speaking, and the Mexicans realized +he was English, it went better with +him. Ord was obviously mad, it +seemed to Santa Anna, but since he +spoke English and seemed educated, +he could be useful. Santa Anna didn't +mind the raving; he understood all +about Napoleon's detention camps +and what they had done to Britainers +over there. In fact, Santa Anna was +thinking of setting up a couple of +those camps himself. When they had +milked Ord dry, they threw him on a +horse and took him along.</p> + +<p>Thus John Ord had an excellent +view of the battlefield when Santa +Anna's cannon broke the American +lines south of the Trinity. Unable to +get his men across to safety, Sam +Houston died leading the last, desperate +charge against the Mexican regulars. +After that, the American survivors +were too tired to run from the +cavalry that pinned them against the +flooding river. Most of them died +there. Santa Anna expressed complete +indifference to what happened to the +Texans' women and children.</p> + +<p>Mexican soldiers found Jim Bowie +hiding in a hut, wearing a plain linen +tunic and pretending to be a civilian. +They would not have discovered his +identity had not some of the Texan +women cried out, "Colonel Bowie—Colonel +Bowie!" as he was led into +the Mexican camp.</p> + +<p>He was hauled before Santa Anna, +and Ord was summoned to watch. +"Well, don Jaime," Santa Anna remarked, +"You have been a foolish +man. I promised your wife's uncle to +send you to Acapulco safely, though +of course your lands are forfeit. You +understand we must have lands for +the veterans' program when this campaign +is over—" Santa Anna smiled +then. "Besides, since Ord here has +told me how instrumental you were +in the abandonment of the Alamo, I +think the Emperor will agree to mercy +in your case. You know, don Jaime, +your compatriots had me worried back +there. The Alamo might have been a +tough nut to crack ... <i>pues</i>, no matter."</p> + +<p>And since Santa Anna had always +been broadminded, not objecting to +light skin or immigrant background, +he invited Bowie to dinner that night.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="36" height="50" /></div> +<p>anta Anna turned to Ord. "But if +we could catch this rascally war criminal, +Crockett ... however, I fear +he has escaped us. He slipped over +the river with a fake passport, and the +Indians have interned him."</p> + +<p>"Sí, <i>Señor Presidente</i>," Ord said +dully.</p> + +<p>"Please, don't call me that," Santa +Anna cried, looking around. "True, +many of us officers have political ambitions, +but Emperor Iturbide is old +and vain. It could mean my head—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Ord's head was erect, and +the old, clear light was in his blue +eyes. "Now I understand!" he shouted. +"I thought Travis was raving back +there, before he shot himself—and +your talk of the Emperor! American +respect for Indian rights! Jeffersonian +form of government! Oh, those +ponces who peddled me that X-4-A—the +<i>track jumper</i>! I'm not back in +my own past. I've jumped the time +track—<i>I'm back in a screaming alternate!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Please, not so loud, <i>Señor</i> Ord," +Santa Anna sighed. "Now, we must +shoot a few more American officers, +of course. I regret this, you understand, +and I shall no doubt be much +criticized in French Canada and Russia, +where there are still civilized +values. But we must establish the Republic +of the Empire once and for all +upon this continent, that aristocratic +tyranny shall not perish from the +earth. Of course, as an Englishman, +you understand perfectly, Señor Ord."</p> + +<p>"Of course, excellency," Ord said.</p> + +<p>"There are soft hearts—soft heads, +I say—in Mexico who cry for civil +rights for the Americans. But I must +make sure that Mexican dominance is +never again threatened north of the +Rio Grande."</p> + +<p>"<i>Seguro</i>, excellency," Ord said, suddenly. +If the bloody X-4-A <i>had</i> +jumped the track, there was no getting +back, none at all. He was stuck here. +Ord's blue eyes narrowed. "After all, +it ... it is manifest destiny that the +Latin peoples of North America meet +at the center of the continent. Canada +and Mexico shall share the Mississippi."</p> + +<p>Santa Anna's dark eyes glowed. +"You say what I have often thought. +You are a man of vision, and much +sense. You realize the <i>Indios</i> must go, +whether they were here first or not. +I think I will make you my secretary, +with the rank of captain."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gracias</i>, Excellency."</p> + +<p>"Now, let us write my communique +to the capital, <i>Capitán</i> Ord. We must +describe how the American abandonment +of the Alamo allowed me to +press the traitor Houston so closely +he had no chance to maneuver his +men into the trap he sought. <i>Ay, +Capitán</i>, it is a cardinal principle of +the Anglo-Saxons, to get themselves +into a trap from which they must +fight their way out. This I never let +them do, which is why I succeed +where others fail ... you said something, +<i>Capitán</i>?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Sí</i>, Excellency. I said, I shall title +our communique: 'Remember the +Alamo,'" Ord said, standing at attention.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bueno!</i> You have a gift for words. +Indeed, if ever we feel the <i>gringos</i> +are too much for us, your words shall +once again remind us of the truth!" +Santa Anna smiled. "I think I shall +make you a major. You have indeed +coined a phrase which shall live in +history forever!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30267 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30267-h/images/image_001_01.jpg b/30267-h/images/image_001_01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0463989 --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/images/image_001_01.jpg diff --git a/30267-h/images/image_001_02.jpg b/30267-h/images/image_001_02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf3fe6e --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/images/image_001_02.jpg diff --git a/30267-h/images/image_o.jpg b/30267-h/images/image_o.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..45d6c7e --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/images/image_o.jpg diff --git a/30267-h/images/image_s.jpg b/30267-h/images/image_s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c25f47f --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/images/image_s.jpg diff --git a/30267-h/images/image_t.jpg b/30267-h/images/image_t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c51d25a --- /dev/null +++ b/30267-h/images/image_t.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f82d6fc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30267 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30267) diff --git a/old/30267-8.txt b/old/30267-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b181eb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30267-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,917 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. Fehrenbach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Remember the Alamo + +Author: R. R. Fehrenbach + +Illustrator: Schoenherr + +Release Date: October 16, 2009 [EBook #30267] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REMEMBER THE ALAMO *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright + on this publication was renewed. + + + Remember the + + Alamo! + + + + By R. R. FEHRENBACH + + + + THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS + ON THE MODERN SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY I HAVE SEEN--A + REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING LITTLE TALE.... + + + + ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR + + * * * * * + + + + +Toward sundown, in the murky drizzle, the man who called himself Ord +brought Lieutenant colonel William Barrett Travis word that the Mexican +light cavalry had completely invested Bexar, and that some light guns were +being set up across the San Antonio River. Even as he spoke, there was a +flash and bang from the west, and a shell screamed over the old mission +walls. Travis looked worried. + +[Illustration:] + +"What kind of guns?" he asked. + +"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothing +of respectable siege caliber. General Santa Anna has had to move too fast +for any big stuff to keep up." Ord spoke in his odd accent. After all, he +was a Britainer, or some other kind of foreigner. But he spoke good +Spanish, and he seemed to know everything. In the four or five days since +he had appeared he had become very useful to Travis. + +Frowning, Travis asked, "How many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?" + +"Not more than a thousand, now," the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man said +confidently. "But when the main body arrives, there'll be four, five +thousand." + +Travis shook his head. "How do you get all this information, Ord? You +recite it like you had read it all some place--like it were history." + +Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't know _everything_, colonel. That is why I +had to come here. There is so much we don't know about what happened.... I +mean, sir, what will happen--in the Alamo." His sharp eyes grew puzzled for +an instant. "And some things don't seem to match up, somehow--" + +Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord talked queerly at times, and +Travis suspected he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, for the +man was undoubtedly a Britainer aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon's +thousand-year Empire. Travis had heard about the detention camps and the +charcoal ovens ... but once, when he had mentioned the _Empereur's_ sack of +London in '06, Ord had gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he had +forgotten completely. + +But John Ord, or whatever his name was, seemed to be the only man in the +Texas forces who understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to do. +Now Travis looked around at the thick adobe wall surrounding the old +mission in which they stood. In the cold, yellowish twilight even the +flaring cook fires of his hundred and eighty-two men could not dispel the +ghostly air that clung to the old place. Travis shivered involuntarily. But +the walls were thick, and they could turn one-pounders. He asked, "What was +it you called this place, Ord ... the Mexican name?" + +"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady excitement seemed to burn in the +Britainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna won't forget that name, you can be +sure. You'll want to talk to the other officers now, sir? About the message +we drew up for Sam Houston?" + +"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. He watched Ord head for the walls. +No doubt about it, Ord understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to +do here. So few of the others seemed to care. + +Travis was suddenly very glad that John Ord had shown up when he did. + +On the walls, Ord found the man he sought, broad-shouldered and tall in a +fancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's compliments, sir, and he desires +your presence in the chapel." + +The big man put away the knife with which he had been whittling. The +switchblade snicked back and disappeared into a side pocket of the jacket, +while Ord watched it with fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got his +britches hot about this time?" the big man asked. + +"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said stiffly and moved on. + +_Bang-bang-bang_ roared the small Mexican cannon from across the river. +_Pow-pow-pow!_ The little balls only chipped dust from the thick adobe +walls. Ord smiled. + +He found the second man he sought, a lean man with a weathered face, +leaning against a wall and chewing tobacco. This man wore a long, fringed, +leather lounge jacket, and he carried a guitar slung beside his Rock Island +rifle. He squinted up at Ord. "I know ... I know," he muttered. "Willy +Travis is in an uproar again. You reckon that colonel's commission that +Congress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos give him swelled his head?" + +Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, the commandant desires an officers' +conference in the chapel, now." Ord was somewhat annoyed. He had not +realized he would find these Americans so--distasteful. Hardly preferable +to Mexicans, really. Not at all as he had imagined. + +For an instant he wished he had chosen Drake and the Armada instead of this +pack of ruffians--but no, he had never been able to stand sea sickness. He +couldn't have taken the Channel, not even for five minutes. + +And there was no changing now. He had chosen this place and time carefully, +at great expense--actually, at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted twice, +and he had had a hard time bringing her in. But it had got him here at +last. And, because for a historian he had always been an impetuous and +daring man, he grinned now, thinking of the glory that was to come. And he +was a participant--much better than a ringside seat! Only he would have to +be careful, at the last, to slip away. + +John Ord knew very well how this coming battle had ended, back here in +1836. + +He marched back to William Barrett Travis, clicked heels smartly. Travis' +eyes glowed; he was the only senior officer here who loved military +punctilio. "Sir, they are on the way." + +"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be a +battle, as we know. I know so little about you. If something should happen +to you, is there anyone to write? Across the water?" + +Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid my ancestor wouldn't understand." + +Travis shrugged. Who was he to say that Ord was crazy? In this day and age, +any man with vision was looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt closer to Ord +than to the others. + + * * * * * + +The two officers Ord had summoned entered the chapel. The big man in the +Mexican jacket tried to dominate the wood table at which they sat. He +towered over the slender, nervous Travis, but the commandant, +straight-backed and arrogant, did not give an inch. "Boys, you know Santa +Anna has invested us. We've been fired on all day--" He seemed to be +listening for something. _Wham!_ Outside, a cannon split the dusk with +flame and sound as it fired from the walls. "There is my answer!" + +The man in the lounge coat shrugged. "What I want to know is what our +orders are. What does old Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress once. Sam's +got good sense; he can smell the way the wind's blowin'." He stopped +speaking and hit his guitar a few licks. He winked across the table at the +officer in the Mexican jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, Jim?" + +"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good man, although I don't think he ever met a +payroll." + +"General Houston's leaving it up to me," Travis told them. + +"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. "So what you figurin' to do, +Bill?" + +Travis stood up in the weak, flickering candlelight, one hand on the +polished hilt of his saber. The other two men winced, watching him. +"Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull his militia together while he falls +back. You know, Texas was woefully unprepared for a contest at arms. The +general's idea is to draw Santa Anna as far into Texas as he can, then hit +him when he's extended, at the right place, and right time. But Houston +needs more time--Santa Anna's moved faster than any of us anticipated. +Unless we can stop the Mexican Army and take a little steam out of them, +General Houston's in trouble." + +Jim flicked the knife blade in and out. "Go on." + +"This is where we come in, gentlemen. Santa Anna can't leave a force of one +hundred eighty men in his rear. If we hold fast, he must attack us. But he +has no siege equipment, not even large field cannon." Travis' eye gleamed. +"Think of it, boys! He'll have to mount a frontal attack, against protected +American riflemen. Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him a few things +about that!" + +"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, anybody tell you there's maybe four or +five thousand Mexicaners comin'?" + +"Let them come. Less will leave!" + +But Jim, sour-faced turned to the other man. "Davey? You got something to +say?" + +"Hell, yes. How do we get out, after we done pinned Santa Anna down? You +thought of that, Billy boy?" + +Travis shrugged. "There is an element of grave risk, of course. Ord, +where's the document, the message you wrote up for me? Ah, thank you." +Travis cleared his throat. "Here's what I'm sending on to general Houston." +He read, "Commandancy of the Alamo, February 24, 1836 ... are you sure of +that date, Ord?" + +"Oh, I'm sure of that," Ord said. + +"Never mind--if you're wrong we can change it later. 'To the People of +Texas and all Americans in the World. Fellow Freemen and Compatriots! I am +besieged with a thousand or more Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have +sustained a continual bombardment for many hours but have not lost a man. +The enemy has demanded surrender at discretion, otherwise, the garrison is +to be put to the sword, if taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon +shot, and our flag still waves proudly over 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--" He paused, +frowning, "This language seems pretty old-fashioned, Ord--" + +"Oh, no, sir. That's exactly right," Ord murmured. + +"'... 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 his honor or that of his homeland. VICTORY OR DEATH!'" + + * * * * * + +Travis stopped reading, looked up. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" Ord breathed. +"The greatest words of defiance ever written in the English tongue--and so +much more literate than that chap at Bascogne." + +"You mean to send that?" Jim gasped. + +The man called Davey was holding his head in his hands. + +"You object, Colonel Bowie?" Travis asked icily. + +"Oh, cut that 'colonel' stuff, Bill," Bowie said. "It's only a National +Guard title, and I like 'Jim' better, even though I am a pretty important +man. Damn right I have an objection! Why, that message is almost +aggressive. You'd think we wanted to fight Santa Anna! You want us to be +marked down as warmongers? It'll give us trouble when we get to the +negotiation table--" + +Travis' head turned. "Colonel Crockett?" + +"What Jim says goes for me, too. And this: I'd change that part about all +Americans, et cetera. You don't want anybody to think we think we're better +than the Mexicans. After all, Americans are a minority in the world. Why +not make it 'all men who love security?' That'd have world-wide appeal--" + +"Oh, Crockett," Travis hissed. + +Crockett stood up. "Don't use that tone of voice to me, Billy Travis! That +piece of paper you got don't make you no better'n us. I ran for Congress +twice, and won. I know what the people want--" + +"What the people want doesn't mean a damn right now," Travis said harshly. +"Don't you realize the tyrant is at the gates?" + +Crockett rolled his eyes heavenward. "Never thought I'd hear a good +American say that! Billy, you'll never run for office--" + +Bowie held up a hand, cutting into Crockett's talk. "All right, Davey. Hold +up. You ain't runnin' for Congress now. Bill, the main thing I don't like +in your whole message is that part about victory or death. That's got to +go. Don't ask us to sell that to the troops!" + +Travis closed his eyes briefly. "Boys, listen. We don't have to tell the +men about this. They don't need to know the real story until it's too late +for them to get out. And then we shall cover ourselves with such glory that +none of us shall ever be forgotten. Americans are the best fighters in the +world when they are trapped. They teach this in the Foot School back on the +Chatahoochee. And if we die, to die for one's country is sweet--" + +"Hell with that," Crockett drawled. "I don't mind dyin', but not for these +big landowners like Jim Bowie here. I just been thinkin'--I don't own +nothing in Texas." + +"I resent that," Bowie shouted. "You know very well I volunteered, after I +sent my wife off to Acapulco to be with her family." With an effort, he +calmed himself. "Look, Travis. I have some reputation as a fighting +man--you know I lived through the gang wars back home. It's obvious this +Alamo place is indefensible, even if we had a thousand men." + +"But we must delay Santa Anna at all costs--" + +Bowie took out a fine, dark Mexican cigar and whittled at it with his +blade. Then he lit it, saying around it, "All right, let's all calm down. +Nothing a group of good men can't settle around a table. Now listen. I got +in with this revolution at first because I thought old Emperor Iturbide +would listen to reason and lower taxes. But nothin's worked out, because +hot-heads like you, Travis, queered the deal. All this yammerin' about +liberty! Mexico is a Republic, under an Emperor, not some kind of +democracy, and we can't change that. Let's talk some sense before it's too +late. We're all too old and too smart to be wavin' the flag like it's the +Fourth of July. Sooner or later, we're goin' to have to sit down and talk +with the Mexicans. And like Davey said, I own a million hectares, and I've +always paid minimum wage, and my wife's folks are way up there in the +Imperial Government of the Republic of Mexico. That means I got influence +in all the votin' groups, includin' the American Immigrant, since I'm a +minority group member myself. I think I can talk to Santa Anna, and even to +old Iturbide. If we sign a treaty now with Santa Anna, acknowledge the law +of the land, I think our lives and property rights will be respected--" He +cocked an eye toward Crockett. + +"Makes sense, Jim. That's the way we do it in Congress. Compromise, +everybody happy. We never allowed ourselves to be led nowhere we didn't +want to go, I can tell you! And Bill, you got to admit that we're in better +bargaining position if we're out in the open, than if old Santa Anna's got +us penned up in this old Alamo." + +"Ord," Travis said despairingly. "Ord, you understand. Help me! Make them +listen!" + + * * * * * + +Ord moved into the candlelight, his lean face sweating. "Gentlemen, this is +all wrong! It doesn't happen this way--" + +Crockett sneered, "Who asked you, Ord? I'll bet you ain't even got a poll +tax!" + +Decisively, Bowie said, "We're free men, Travis, and we won't be led around +like cattle. How about it, Davey? Think you could handle the rear guard, if +we try to move out of here?" + +"Hell, yes! Just so we're movin'!" + +"O.K. Put it to a vote of the men outside. Do we stay, and maybe get +croaked, or do we fall back and conserve our strength until we need it? +Take care of it, eh, Davey?" + +Crockett picked up his guitar and went outside. + +Travis roared, "This is insubordination! Treason!" He drew his saber, but +Bowie took it from him and broke it in two. Then the big man pulled his +knife. + +"Stay back, Ord. The Alamo isn't worth the bones of a Britainer, either." + +"Colonel Bowie, please," Ord cried. "You don't understand! You _must_ +defend the Alamo! This is the turning point in the winning of the west! If +Houston is beaten, Texas will never join the Union! There will be no +Mexican War. No California, no nation stretching from sea to shining sea! +This is the Americans' manifest destiny. You are the hope of the future ... +you will save the world from Hitler, from Bolshevism--" + +"Crazy as a hoot owl," Bowie said sadly. "Ord, you and Travis got to look +at it both ways. We ain't all in the right in this war--we Americans got +our faults, too." + +"But you are free men," Ord whispered. "Vulgar, opinionated, brutal--but +free! You are still better than any breed who kneels to tyranny--" + +Crockett came in. "O.K., Jim." + +"How'd it go?" + +"Fifty-one per cent for hightailin' it right now." + +Bowie smiled. "That's a flat majority. Let's make tracks." + +"Comin', Bill?" Crockett asked. "You're O.K., but you just don't know how +to be one of the boys. You got to learn that no dog is better'n any other." + +"No," Travis croaked hoarsely. "I stay. Stay or go, we shall all die like +dogs, anyway. Boys, for the last time! Don't reveal our weakness to the +enemy--" + +"What weakness? We're stronger than them. Americans could whip the Mexicans +any day, if we wanted to. But the thing to do is make 'em talk, not fight. +So long, Bill." + +The two big men stepped outside. In the night there was a sudden clatter of +hoofs as the Texans mounted and rode. From across the river came a brief +spatter of musket fire, then silence. In the dark, there had been no +difficulty in breaking through the Mexican lines. + +Inside the chapel, John Ord's mouth hung slackly. He muttered, "Am I +insane? It didn't happen this way--it couldn't! The books can't be _that_ +wrong--" + +In the candlelight, Travis hung his head. "We tried, John. Perhaps it was a +forlorn hope at best. Even if we had defeated Santa Anna, or delayed him, I +do not think the Indian Nations would have let Houston get help from the +United States." + +Ord continued his dazed muttering, hardly hearing. + +"We need a contiguous frontier with Texas," Travis continued slowly, just +above a whisper. "But we Americans have never broken a treaty with the +Indians, and pray God we never shall. _We_ aren't like the Mexicans, always +pushing, always grabbing off New Mexico, Arizona, California. _We_ aren't +colonial oppressors, thank God! No, it wouldn't have worked out, even if we +American immigrants had secured our rights in Texas--" He lifted a short, +heavy, percussion pistol in his hand and cocked it. "I hate to say it, but +perhaps if we hadn't taken Payne and Jefferson so seriously--if we could +only have paid lip service, and done what we really wanted to do, in our +hearts ... no matter. I won't live to see our final disgrace." + +He put the pistol to his head and blew out his brains. + + * * * * * + +Ord was still gibbering when the Mexican cavalry stormed into the old +mission, pulling down the flag and seizing him, dragging him before the +resplendent little general in green and gold. + +Since he was the only prisoner, Santa Anna questioned Ord carefully. When +the sharp point of a bayonet had been thrust half an inch into his stomach, +the Britainer seemed to come around. When he started speaking, and the +Mexicans realized he was English, it went better with him. Ord was +obviously mad, it seemed to Santa Anna, but since he spoke English and +seemed educated, he could be useful. Santa Anna didn't mind the raving; he +understood all about Napoleon's detention camps and what they had done to +Britainers over there. In fact, Santa Anna was thinking of setting up a +couple of those camps himself. When they had milked Ord dry, they threw him +on a horse and took him along. + +Thus John Ord had an excellent view of the battlefield when Santa Anna's +cannon broke the American lines south of the Trinity. Unable to get his men +across to safety, Sam Houston died leading the last, desperate charge +against the Mexican regulars. After that, the American survivors were too +tired to run from the cavalry that pinned them against the flooding river. +Most of them died there. Santa Anna expressed complete indifference to what +happened to the Texans' women and children. + +Mexican soldiers found Jim Bowie hiding in a hut, wearing a plain linen +tunic and pretending to be a civilian. They would not have discovered his +identity had not some of the Texan women cried out, "Colonel Bowie--Colonel +Bowie!" as he was led into the Mexican camp. + +He was hauled before Santa Anna, and Ord was summoned to watch. "Well, don +Jaime," Santa Anna remarked, "You have been a foolish man. I promised your +wife's uncle to send you to Acapulco safely, though of course your lands +are forfeit. You understand we must have lands for the veterans' program +when this campaign is over--" Santa Anna smiled then. "Besides, since Ord +here has told me how instrumental you were in the abandonment of the Alamo, +I think the Emperor will agree to mercy in your case. You know, don Jaime, +your compatriots had me worried back there. The Alamo might have been a +tough nut to crack ... _pues_, no matter." + +And since Santa Anna had always been broadminded, not objecting to light +skin or immigrant background, he invited Bowie to dinner that night. + + * * * * * + +Santa Anna turned to Ord. "But if we could catch this rascally war +criminal, Crockett ... however, I fear he has escaped us. He slipped over +the river with a fake passport, and the Indians have interned him." + +"Sí, _Señor Presidente_," Ord said dully. + +"Please, don't call me that," Santa Anna cried, looking around. "True, many +of us officers have political ambitions, but Emperor Iturbide is old and +vain. It could mean my head--" + +Suddenly, Ord's head was erect, and the old, clear light was in his blue +eyes. "Now I understand!" he shouted. "I thought Travis was raving back +there, before he shot himself--and your talk of the Emperor! American +respect for Indian rights! Jeffersonian form of government! Oh, those +ponces who peddled me that X-4-A--the _track jumper_! I'm not back in my +own past. I've jumped the time track--_I'm back in a screaming +alternate!_" + +"Please, not so loud, _Señor_ Ord," Santa Anna sighed. "Now, we must shoot +a few more American officers, of course. I regret this, you understand, and +I shall no doubt be much criticized in French Canada and Russia, where +there are still civilized values. But we must establish the Republic of the +Empire once and for all upon this continent, that aristocratic tyranny +shall not perish from the earth. Of course, as an Englishman, you +understand perfectly, Señor Ord." + +"Of course, excellency," Ord said. + +"There are soft hearts--soft heads, I say--in Mexico who cry for civil +rights for the Americans. But I must make sure that Mexican dominance is +never again threatened north of the Rio Grande." + +"_Seguro_, excellency," Ord said, suddenly. If the bloody X-4-A _had_ +jumped the track, there was no getting back, none at all. He was stuck +here. Ord's blue eyes narrowed. "After all, it ... it is manifest destiny +that the Latin peoples of North America meet at the center of the +continent. Canada and Mexico shall share the Mississippi." + +Santa Anna's dark eyes glowed. "You say what I have often thought. You are +a man of vision, and much sense. You realize the _Indios_ must go, whether +they were here first or not. I think I will make you my secretary, with the +rank of captain." + +"_Gracias_, Excellency." + +"Now, let us write my communique to the capital, _Capitán_ Ord. We must +describe how the American abandonment of the Alamo allowed me to press the +traitor Houston so closely he had no chance to maneuver his men into the +trap he sought. _Ay, Capitán_, it is a cardinal principle of the +Anglo-Saxons, to get themselves into a trap from which they must fight +their way out. This I never let them do, which is why I succeed where +others fail ... you said something, _Capitán_?" + +"_Sí_, Excellency. I said, I shall title our communique: 'Remember the +Alamo,'" Ord said, standing at attention. + +"_Bueno!_ You have a gift for words. Indeed, if ever we feel the _gringos_ +are too much for us, your words shall once again remind us of the truth!" +Santa Anna smiled. "I think I shall make you a major. You have indeed +coined a phrase which shall live in history forever!" + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. 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Fehrenbach + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +/* Images */ +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. Fehrenbach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Remember the Alamo + +Author: R. R. Fehrenbach + +Illustrator: Schoenherr + +Release Date: October 16, 2009 [EBook #30267] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REMEMBER THE ALAMO *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + + +<h1>Remember the<br /> + +Alamo!</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>By R. R. FEHRENBACH</h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF +THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS +ON THE MODERN SOCIAL +PHILOSOPHY I HAVE +SEEN—A REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING +LITTLE TALE....</p></div> +<p> </p> + + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>oward sundown, in the murky drizzle, +the man who called himself Ord +brought Lieutenant colonel William +Barrett Travis word that the Mexican +light cavalry had completely invested +Bexar, and that some light guns were +being set up across the San Antonio +River. Even as he spoke, there was a +flash and bang from the west, and a +shell screamed over the old mission +walls. Travis looked worried.</p> + +<div> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_001_01.jpg" width="199" height="337" alt="" /> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_001_02.jpg" width="500" height="390" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>"What kind of guns?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord +said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothing +of respectable siege caliber. General +Santa Anna has had to move too +fast for any big stuff to keep up." Ord +spoke in his odd accent. After all, he +was a Britainer, or some other kind of +foreigner. But he spoke good Spanish, +and he seemed to know everything. +In the four or five days since he had +appeared he had become very useful +to Travis.</p> + +<p>Frowning, Travis asked, "How +many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?"</p> + +<p>"Not more than a thousand, now," +the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man +said confidently. "But when the main +body arrives, there'll be four, five +thousand."</p> + +<p>Travis shook his head. "How do +you get all this information, Ord? +You recite it like you had read it all +some place—like it were history."</p> + +<p>Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't +know <i>everything</i>, colonel. That is why +I had to come here. There is so much +we don't know about what happened.... I +mean, sir, what will happen—in the Alamo." +His sharp eyes grew puzzled for an instant. +"And some things don't seem to match up, +somehow—"</p> + +<p>Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord +talked queerly at times, and Travis suspected +he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, +for the man was undoubtedly a Britainer +aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon's thousand-year +Empire. Travis had heard about +the detention camps and the charcoal ovens +... but once, when he had mentioned the +<i>Empereur's</i> sack of London in '06, Ord had +gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he +had forgotten completely.</p> + +<p>But John Ord, or whatever his +name was, seemed to be the only man +in the Texas forces who understood +what William Barrett Travis was trying +to do. Now Travis looked around +at the thick adobe wall surrounding +the old mission in which they stood. +In the cold, yellowish twilight even +the flaring cook fires of his hundred +and eighty-two men could not dispel +the ghostly air that clung to the old +place. Travis shivered involuntarily. +But the walls were thick, and they +could turn one-pounders. He asked, +"What was it you called this place, +Ord ... the Mexican name?"</p> + +<p>"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady +excitement seemed to burn in the +Britainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna +won't forget that name, you can be +sure. You'll want to talk to the other +officers now, sir? About the message +we drew up for Sam Houston?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. +He watched Ord head for the +walls. No doubt about it, Ord understood +what William Barrett Travis +was trying to do here. So few of the +others seemed to care.</p> + +<p>Travis was suddenly very glad that +John Ord had shown up when he did.</p> + +<p>On the walls, Ord found the man +he sought, broad-shouldered and tall +in a fancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's +compliments, sir, and he +desires your presence in the chapel."</p> + +<p>The big man put away the knife +with which he had been whittling. +The switchblade snicked back and +disappeared into a side pocket +of the jacket, while Ord watched it with +fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got +his britches hot about this time?" the +big man asked.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said +stiffly and moved on.</p> + +<p><i>Bang-bang-bang</i> roared the small +Mexican cannon from across the river. +<i>Pow-pow-pow!</i> The little balls only +chipped dust from the thick adobe +walls. Ord smiled.</p> + +<p>He found the second man he +sought, a lean man with a weathered +face, leaning against a wall and chewing +tobacco. This man wore a long, +fringed, leather lounge jacket, and he +carried a guitar slung beside his Rock +Island rifle. He squinted up at Ord. +"I know ... I know," he muttered. +"Willy Travis is in an uproar again. +You reckon that colonel's commission +that Congress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos +give him swelled his +head?"</p> + +<p>Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, +the commandant desires an officers' +conference in the chapel, now." Ord +was somewhat annoyed. He had not +realized he would find these Americans +so—distasteful. Hardly preferable +to Mexicans, really. Not at all as +he had imagined.</p> + +<p>For an instant he wished he had +chosen Drake and the Armada instead +of this pack of ruffians—but no, he +had never been able to stand sea sickness. +He couldn't have taken the +Channel, not even for five minutes.</p> + +<p>And there was no changing now. +He had chosen this place and time +carefully, at great expense—actually, +at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted +twice, and he had had a hard time +bringing her in. But it had got him +here at last. And, because for a historian +he had always been an impetuous +and daring man, he grinned now, +thinking of the glory that was to +come. And he was a participant—much +better than a ringside seat! +Only he would have to be careful, at +the last, to slip away.</p> + +<p>John Ord knew very well how this +coming battle had ended, back here +in 1836.</p> + +<p>He marched back to William Barrett +Travis, clicked heels smartly. +Travis' eyes glowed; he was the only +senior officer here who loved military +punctilio. "Sir, they are on the way."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated +a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be +a battle, as we know. I know so little +about you. If something should happen +to you, is there anyone to write? +Across the water?"</p> + +<p>Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid +my ancestor wouldn't understand."</p> + +<p>Travis shrugged. Who was he to +say that Ord was crazy? In this day +and age, any man with vision was +looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt +closer to Ord than to the others.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he two officers Ord had summoned +entered the chapel. The big +man in the Mexican jacket tried to +dominate the wood table at which +they sat. He towered over the slender, +nervous Travis, but the commandant, +straight-backed and arrogant, did not +give an inch. "Boys, you know Santa +Anna has invested us. We've been +fired on all day—" He seemed to be +listening for something. <i>Wham!</i> Outside, +a cannon split the dusk with +flame and sound as it fired from the +walls. "There is my answer!"</p> + +<p>The man in the lounge coat +shrugged. "What I want to know is +what our orders are. What does old +Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress +once. Sam's got good sense; he +can smell the way the wind's blowin'." +He stopped speaking and hit his +guitar a few licks. He winked across +the table at the officer in the Mexican +jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, +Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good +man, although I don't think he ever +met a payroll."</p> + +<p>"General Houston's leaving it up to +me," Travis told them.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. +"So what you figurin' to do, +Bill?"</p> + +<p>Travis stood up in the weak, flickering +candlelight, one hand on the +polished hilt of his saber. The other +two men winced, watching him. +"Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull +his militia together while he falls +back. You know, Texas was woefully +unprepared for a contest at arms. The +general's idea is to draw Santa Anna +as far into Texas as he can, then hit +him when he's extended, at the right +place, and right time. But Houston +needs more time—Santa Anna's +moved faster than any of us anticipated. +Unless we can stop the Mexican +Army and take a little steam out +of them, General Houston's in trouble."</p> + +<p>Jim flicked the knife blade in and +out. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"This is where we come in, gentlemen. +Santa Anna can't leave a force +of one hundred eighty men in his +rear. If we hold fast, he must attack +us. But he has no siege equipment, +not even large field cannon." Travis' +eye gleamed. "Think of it, boys! +He'll have to mount a frontal attack, +against protected American riflemen. +Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him +a few things about that!"</p> + +<p>"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, +anybody tell you there's maybe four +or five thousand Mexicaners comin'?"</p> + +<p>"Let them come. Less will leave!"</p> + +<p>But Jim, sour-faced turned to the +other man. "Davey? You got something +to say?"</p> + +<p>"Hell, yes. How do we get out, +after we done pinned Santa Anna +down? You thought of that, Billy +boy?"</p> + +<p>Travis shrugged. "There is an element +of grave risk, of course. Ord, +where's the document, the message +you wrote up for me? Ah, thank +you." Travis cleared his throat. +"Here's what I'm sending on to general +Houston." He read, "Commandancy +of the Alamo, February 24, +1836 ... are you sure of that date, +Ord?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure of that," Ord said.</p> + +<p>"Never mind—if you're wrong we +can change it later. 'To the People of +Texas and all Americans in the +World. Fellow Freemen and Compatriots! +I am besieged with a thousand +or more Mexicans under Santa Anna. +I have sustained a continual bombardment +for many hours but have not +lost a man. The enemy has demanded +surrender at discretion, otherwise, the +garrison is to be put to the sword, if +taken. I have answered the demand +with a cannon shot, and our flag still +waves proudly over 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—" He paused, +frowning, "This language seems pretty +old-fashioned, Ord—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir. That's exactly right," +Ord murmured.</p> + +<p>"'... 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 his honor or that of his homeland. +VICTORY OR DEATH!'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>ravis stopped reading, looked up. +"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Ord +breathed. "The greatest words of defiance +ever written in the English +tongue—and so much more literate +than that chap at Bascogne."</p> + +<p>"You mean to send that?" Jim +gasped.</p> + +<p>The man called Davey was holding +his head in his hands.</p> + +<p>"You object, Colonel Bowie?" Travis +asked icily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cut that 'colonel' stuff, Bill," +Bowie said. "It's only a National +Guard title, and I like 'Jim' better, +even though I am a pretty important +man. Damn right I have an objection! +Why, that message is almost aggressive. +You'd think we wanted to fight +Santa Anna! You want us to be +marked down as warmongers? It'll +give us trouble when we get to the +negotiation table—"</p> + +<p>Travis' head turned. "Colonel +Crockett?"</p> + +<p>"What Jim says goes for me, too. +And this: I'd change that part about +all Americans, et cetera. You don't +want anybody to think we think we're +better than the Mexicans. After all, +Americans are a minority in the +world. Why not make it 'all men who +love security?' That'd have world-wide +appeal—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Crockett," Travis hissed.</p> + +<p>Crockett stood up. "Don't use that +tone of voice to me, Billy Travis! +That piece of paper you got don't +make you no better'n us. I ran for +Congress twice, and won. I know what +the people want—"</p> + +<p>"What the people want doesn't +mean a damn right now," Travis said +harshly. "Don't you realize the tyrant +is at the gates?"</p> + +<p>Crockett rolled his eyes heavenward. +"Never thought I'd hear a good +American say that! Billy, you'll never +run for office—"</p> + +<p>Bowie held up a hand, cutting into +Crockett's talk. "All right, Davey. +Hold up. You ain't runnin' for Congress +now. Bill, the main thing I +don't like in your whole message is +that part about victory or death. +That's got to go. Don't ask us to sell +that to the troops!"</p> + +<p>Travis closed his eyes briefly. +"Boys, listen. We don't have to tell +the men about this. They don't need +to know the real story until it's too +late for them to get out. And then +we shall cover ourselves with such +glory that none of us shall ever be +forgotten. Americans are the best +fighters in the world when they are +trapped. They teach this in the Foot +School back on the Chatahoochee. +And if we die, to die for one's country +is sweet—"</p> + +<p>"Hell with that," Crockett drawled. +"I don't mind dyin', but not for these +big landowners like Jim Bowie here. +I just been thinkin'—I don't own +nothing in Texas."</p> + +<p>"I resent that," Bowie shouted. +"You know very well I volunteered, +after I sent my wife off to Acapulco +to be with her family." With an effort, +he calmed himself. "Look, Travis. I +have some reputation as a fighting +man—you know I lived through the +gang wars back home. It's obvious +this Alamo place is indefensible, even +if we had a thousand men."</p> + +<p>"But we must delay Santa Anna at +all costs—"</p> + +<p>Bowie took out a fine, dark Mexican +cigar and whittled at it with his +blade. Then he lit it, saying around it, +"All right, let's all calm down. Nothing +a group of good men can't settle +around a table. Now listen. I got in +with this revolution at first because I +thought old Emperor Iturbide would +listen to reason and lower taxes. But +nothin's worked out, because hot-heads +like you, Travis, queered the +deal. All this yammerin' about liberty! +Mexico is a Republic, under an +Emperor, not some kind of democracy, +and we can't change that. Let's talk +some sense before it's too late. We're +all too old and too smart to be wavin' +the flag like it's the Fourth of July. +Sooner or later, we're goin' to have to +sit down and talk with the Mexicans. +And like Davey said, I own a million +hectares, and I've always paid minimum +wage, and my wife's folks are +way up there in the Imperial Government +of the Republic of Mexico. +That means I got influence in all the +votin' groups, includin' the American +Immigrant, since I'm a minority +group member myself. I think I can +talk to Santa Anna, and even to old +Iturbide. If we sign a treaty now with +Santa Anna, acknowledge the law of +the land, I think our lives and property +rights will be respected—" He +cocked an eye toward Crockett.</p> + +<p>"Makes sense, Jim. That's the way +we do it in Congress. Compromise, +everybody happy. We never allowed +ourselves to be led nowhere we didn't +want to go, I can tell you! And Bill, +you got to admit that we're in better +bargaining position if we're out in the +open, than if old Santa Anna's got us +penned up in this old Alamo."</p> + +<p>"Ord," Travis said despairingly. +"Ord, you understand. Help me! +Make them listen!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>rd moved into the candlelight, +his lean face sweating. "Gentlemen, +this is all wrong! It doesn't happen +this way—"</p> + +<p>Crockett sneered, "Who asked you, +Ord? I'll bet you ain't even got a poll +tax!"</p> + +<p>Decisively, Bowie said, "We're free +men, Travis, and we won't be led +around like cattle. How about it, +Davey? Think you could handle the +rear guard, if we try to move out of +here?"</p> + +<p>"Hell, yes! Just so we're movin'!"</p> + +<p>"O.K. Put it to a vote of the men +outside. Do we stay, and maybe get +croaked, or do we fall back and conserve +our strength until we need it? +Take care of it, eh, Davey?"</p> + +<p>Crockett picked up his guitar and +went outside.</p> + +<p>Travis roared, "This is insubordination! +Treason!" He drew his saber, but +Bowie took it from him and broke it +in two. Then the big man pulled his +knife.</p> + +<p>"Stay back, Ord. The Alamo isn't +worth the bones of a Britainer, +either."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Bowie, please," Ord cried. +"You don't understand! You <i>must</i> defend +the Alamo! This is the turning +point in the winning of the west! If +Houston is beaten, Texas will never +join the Union! There will be no +Mexican War. No California, no nation +stretching from sea to shining +sea! This is the Americans' manifest +destiny. You are the hope of the future +... you will save the world +from Hitler, from Bolshevism—"</p> + +<p>"Crazy as a hoot owl," Bowie said +sadly. "Ord, you and Travis got to look +at it both ways. We ain't all in the +right in this war—we Americans got +our faults, too."</p> + +<p>"But you are free men," Ord whispered. +"Vulgar, opinionated, brutal—but +free! You are still better than any +breed who kneels to tyranny—"</p> + +<p>Crockett came in. "O.K., Jim."</p> + +<p>"How'd it go?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty-one per cent for hightailin' +it right now."</p> + +<p>Bowie smiled. "That's a flat majority. +Let's make tracks."</p> + +<p>"Comin', Bill?" Crockett asked. +"You're O.K., but you just don't know +how to be one of the boys. You got +to learn that no dog is better'n any +other."</p> + +<p>"No," Travis croaked hoarsely. "I +stay. Stay or go, we shall all die like +dogs, anyway. Boys, for the last time! +Don't reveal our weakness to the +enemy—"</p> + +<p>"What weakness? We're stronger +than them. Americans could whip the +Mexicans any day, if we wanted to. +But the thing to do is make 'em talk, +not fight. So long, Bill."</p> + +<p>The two big men stepped outside. +In the night there was a sudden clatter +of hoofs as the Texans mounted and +rode. From across the river came a +brief spatter of musket fire, then silence. +In the dark, there had been no +difficulty in breaking through the +Mexican lines.</p> + +<p>Inside the chapel, John Ord's +mouth hung slackly. He muttered, +"Am I insane? It didn't happen this +way—it couldn't! The books can't be +<i>that</i> wrong—"</p> + +<p>In the candlelight, Travis hung his +head. "We tried, John. Perhaps it was +a forlorn hope at best. Even if we had +defeated Santa Anna, or delayed him, +I do not think the Indian Nations +would have let Houston get help from +the United States."</p> + +<p>Ord continued his dazed muttering, +hardly hearing.</p> + +<p>"We need a contiguous frontier +with Texas," Travis continued slowly, +just above a whisper. "But we Americans +have never broken a treaty with +the Indians, and pray God we never +shall. <i>We</i> aren't like the Mexicans, +always pushing, always grabbing off +New Mexico, Arizona, California. <i>We</i> +aren't colonial oppressors, thank God! +No, it wouldn't have worked out, +even if we American immigrants had +secured our rights in Texas—" He +lifted a short, heavy, percussion pistol +in his hand and cocked it. "I hate to +say it, but perhaps if we hadn't taken +Payne and Jefferson so seriously—if +we could only have paid lip service, +and done what we really wanted to +do, in our hearts ... no matter. I +won't live to see our final disgrace."</p> + +<p>He put the pistol to his head and +blew out his brains.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>rd was still gibbering when the +Mexican cavalry stormed into the old +mission, pulling down the flag and +seizing him, dragging him before the +resplendent little general in green +and gold.</p> + +<p>Since he was the only prisoner, +Santa Anna questioned Ord carefully. +When the sharp point of a bayonet +had been thrust half an inch +into his stomach, the Britainer seemed +to come around. When he started +speaking, and the Mexicans realized +he was English, it went better with +him. Ord was obviously mad, it +seemed to Santa Anna, but since he +spoke English and seemed educated, +he could be useful. Santa Anna didn't +mind the raving; he understood all +about Napoleon's detention camps +and what they had done to Britainers +over there. In fact, Santa Anna was +thinking of setting up a couple of +those camps himself. When they had +milked Ord dry, they threw him on a +horse and took him along.</p> + +<p>Thus John Ord had an excellent +view of the battlefield when Santa +Anna's cannon broke the American +lines south of the Trinity. Unable to +get his men across to safety, Sam +Houston died leading the last, desperate +charge against the Mexican regulars. +After that, the American survivors +were too tired to run from the +cavalry that pinned them against the +flooding river. Most of them died +there. Santa Anna expressed complete +indifference to what happened to the +Texans' women and children.</p> + +<p>Mexican soldiers found Jim Bowie +hiding in a hut, wearing a plain linen +tunic and pretending to be a civilian. +They would not have discovered his +identity had not some of the Texan +women cried out, "Colonel Bowie—Colonel +Bowie!" as he was led into +the Mexican camp.</p> + +<p>He was hauled before Santa Anna, +and Ord was summoned to watch. +"Well, don Jaime," Santa Anna remarked, +"You have been a foolish +man. I promised your wife's uncle to +send you to Acapulco safely, though +of course your lands are forfeit. You +understand we must have lands for +the veterans' program when this campaign +is over—" Santa Anna smiled +then. "Besides, since Ord here has +told me how instrumental you were +in the abandonment of the Alamo, I +think the Emperor will agree to mercy +in your case. You know, don Jaime, +your compatriots had me worried back +there. The Alamo might have been a +tough nut to crack ... <i>pues</i>, no matter."</p> + +<p>And since Santa Anna had always +been broadminded, not objecting to +light skin or immigrant background, +he invited Bowie to dinner that night.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="36" height="50" /></div> +<p>anta Anna turned to Ord. "But if +we could catch this rascally war criminal, +Crockett ... however, I fear +he has escaped us. He slipped over +the river with a fake passport, and the +Indians have interned him."</p> + +<p>"Sí, <i>Señor Presidente</i>," Ord said +dully.</p> + +<p>"Please, don't call me that," Santa +Anna cried, looking around. "True, +many of us officers have political ambitions, +but Emperor Iturbide is old +and vain. It could mean my head—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Ord's head was erect, and +the old, clear light was in his blue +eyes. "Now I understand!" he shouted. +"I thought Travis was raving back +there, before he shot himself—and +your talk of the Emperor! American +respect for Indian rights! Jeffersonian +form of government! Oh, those +ponces who peddled me that X-4-A—the +<i>track jumper</i>! I'm not back in +my own past. I've jumped the time +track—<i>I'm back in a screaming alternate!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Please, not so loud, <i>Señor</i> Ord," +Santa Anna sighed. "Now, we must +shoot a few more American officers, +of course. I regret this, you understand, +and I shall no doubt be much +criticized in French Canada and Russia, +where there are still civilized +values. But we must establish the Republic +of the Empire once and for all +upon this continent, that aristocratic +tyranny shall not perish from the +earth. Of course, as an Englishman, +you understand perfectly, Señor Ord."</p> + +<p>"Of course, excellency," Ord said.</p> + +<p>"There are soft hearts—soft heads, +I say—in Mexico who cry for civil +rights for the Americans. But I must +make sure that Mexican dominance is +never again threatened north of the +Rio Grande."</p> + +<p>"<i>Seguro</i>, excellency," Ord said, suddenly. +If the bloody X-4-A <i>had</i> +jumped the track, there was no getting +back, none at all. He was stuck here. +Ord's blue eyes narrowed. "After all, +it ... it is manifest destiny that the +Latin peoples of North America meet +at the center of the continent. Canada +and Mexico shall share the Mississippi."</p> + +<p>Santa Anna's dark eyes glowed. +"You say what I have often thought. +You are a man of vision, and much +sense. You realize the <i>Indios</i> must go, +whether they were here first or not. +I think I will make you my secretary, +with the rank of captain."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gracias</i>, Excellency."</p> + +<p>"Now, let us write my communique +to the capital, <i>Capitán</i> Ord. We must +describe how the American abandonment +of the Alamo allowed me to +press the traitor Houston so closely +he had no chance to maneuver his +men into the trap he sought. <i>Ay, +Capitán</i>, it is a cardinal principle of +the Anglo-Saxons, to get themselves +into a trap from which they must +fight their way out. This I never let +them do, which is why I succeed +where others fail ... you said something, +<i>Capitán</i>?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Sí</i>, Excellency. I said, I shall title +our communique: 'Remember the +Alamo,'" Ord said, standing at attention.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bueno!</i> You have a gift for words. +Indeed, if ever we feel the <i>gringos</i> +are too much for us, your words shall +once again remind us of the truth!" +Santa Anna smiled. "I think I shall +make you a major. You have indeed +coined a phrase which shall live in +history forever!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. 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R. Fehrenbach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Remember the Alamo + +Author: R. R. Fehrenbach + +Illustrator: Schoenherr + +Release Date: October 16, 2009 [EBook #30267] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REMEMBER THE ALAMO *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright + on this publication was renewed. + + + Remember the + + Alamo! + + + + By R. R. FEHRENBACH + + + + THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS + ON THE MODERN SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY I HAVE SEEN--A + REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING LITTLE TALE.... + + + + ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR + + * * * * * + + + + +Toward sundown, in the murky drizzle, the man who called himself Ord +brought Lieutenant colonel William Barrett Travis word that the Mexican +light cavalry had completely invested Bexar, and that some light guns were +being set up across the San Antonio River. Even as he spoke, there was a +flash and bang from the west, and a shell screamed over the old mission +walls. Travis looked worried. + +[Illustration:] + +"What kind of guns?" he asked. + +"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothing +of respectable siege caliber. General Santa Anna has had to move too fast +for any big stuff to keep up." Ord spoke in his odd accent. After all, he +was a Britainer, or some other kind of foreigner. But he spoke good +Spanish, and he seemed to know everything. In the four or five days since +he had appeared he had become very useful to Travis. + +Frowning, Travis asked, "How many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?" + +"Not more than a thousand, now," the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man said +confidently. "But when the main body arrives, there'll be four, five +thousand." + +Travis shook his head. "How do you get all this information, Ord? You +recite it like you had read it all some place--like it were history." + +Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't know _everything_, colonel. That is why I +had to come here. There is so much we don't know about what happened.... I +mean, sir, what will happen--in the Alamo." His sharp eyes grew puzzled for +an instant. "And some things don't seem to match up, somehow--" + +Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord talked queerly at times, and +Travis suspected he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, for the +man was undoubtedly a Britainer aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon's +thousand-year Empire. Travis had heard about the detention camps and the +charcoal ovens ... but once, when he had mentioned the _Empereur's_ sack of +London in '06, Ord had gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he had +forgotten completely. + +But John Ord, or whatever his name was, seemed to be the only man in the +Texas forces who understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to do. +Now Travis looked around at the thick adobe wall surrounding the old +mission in which they stood. In the cold, yellowish twilight even the +flaring cook fires of his hundred and eighty-two men could not dispel the +ghostly air that clung to the old place. Travis shivered involuntarily. But +the walls were thick, and they could turn one-pounders. He asked, "What was +it you called this place, Ord ... the Mexican name?" + +"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady excitement seemed to burn in the +Britainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna won't forget that name, you can be +sure. You'll want to talk to the other officers now, sir? About the message +we drew up for Sam Houston?" + +"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. He watched Ord head for the walls. +No doubt about it, Ord understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to +do here. So few of the others seemed to care. + +Travis was suddenly very glad that John Ord had shown up when he did. + +On the walls, Ord found the man he sought, broad-shouldered and tall in a +fancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's compliments, sir, and he desires +your presence in the chapel." + +The big man put away the knife with which he had been whittling. The +switchblade snicked back and disappeared into a side pocket of the jacket, +while Ord watched it with fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got his +britches hot about this time?" the big man asked. + +"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said stiffly and moved on. + +_Bang-bang-bang_ roared the small Mexican cannon from across the river. +_Pow-pow-pow!_ The little balls only chipped dust from the thick adobe +walls. Ord smiled. + +He found the second man he sought, a lean man with a weathered face, +leaning against a wall and chewing tobacco. This man wore a long, fringed, +leather lounge jacket, and he carried a guitar slung beside his Rock Island +rifle. He squinted up at Ord. "I know ... I know," he muttered. "Willy +Travis is in an uproar again. You reckon that colonel's commission that +Congress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos give him swelled his head?" + +Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, the commandant desires an officers' +conference in the chapel, now." Ord was somewhat annoyed. He had not +realized he would find these Americans so--distasteful. Hardly preferable +to Mexicans, really. Not at all as he had imagined. + +For an instant he wished he had chosen Drake and the Armada instead of this +pack of ruffians--but no, he had never been able to stand sea sickness. He +couldn't have taken the Channel, not even for five minutes. + +And there was no changing now. He had chosen this place and time carefully, +at great expense--actually, at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted twice, +and he had had a hard time bringing her in. But it had got him here at +last. And, because for a historian he had always been an impetuous and +daring man, he grinned now, thinking of the glory that was to come. And he +was a participant--much better than a ringside seat! Only he would have to +be careful, at the last, to slip away. + +John Ord knew very well how this coming battle had ended, back here in +1836. + +He marched back to William Barrett Travis, clicked heels smartly. Travis' +eyes glowed; he was the only senior officer here who loved military +punctilio. "Sir, they are on the way." + +"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be a +battle, as we know. I know so little about you. If something should happen +to you, is there anyone to write? Across the water?" + +Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid my ancestor wouldn't understand." + +Travis shrugged. Who was he to say that Ord was crazy? In this day and age, +any man with vision was looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt closer to Ord +than to the others. + + * * * * * + +The two officers Ord had summoned entered the chapel. The big man in the +Mexican jacket tried to dominate the wood table at which they sat. He +towered over the slender, nervous Travis, but the commandant, +straight-backed and arrogant, did not give an inch. "Boys, you know Santa +Anna has invested us. We've been fired on all day--" He seemed to be +listening for something. _Wham!_ Outside, a cannon split the dusk with +flame and sound as it fired from the walls. "There is my answer!" + +The man in the lounge coat shrugged. "What I want to know is what our +orders are. What does old Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress once. Sam's +got good sense; he can smell the way the wind's blowin'." He stopped +speaking and hit his guitar a few licks. He winked across the table at the +officer in the Mexican jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, Jim?" + +"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good man, although I don't think he ever met a +payroll." + +"General Houston's leaving it up to me," Travis told them. + +"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. "So what you figurin' to do, +Bill?" + +Travis stood up in the weak, flickering candlelight, one hand on the +polished hilt of his saber. The other two men winced, watching him. +"Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull his militia together while he falls +back. You know, Texas was woefully unprepared for a contest at arms. The +general's idea is to draw Santa Anna as far into Texas as he can, then hit +him when he's extended, at the right place, and right time. But Houston +needs more time--Santa Anna's moved faster than any of us anticipated. +Unless we can stop the Mexican Army and take a little steam out of them, +General Houston's in trouble." + +Jim flicked the knife blade in and out. "Go on." + +"This is where we come in, gentlemen. Santa Anna can't leave a force of one +hundred eighty men in his rear. If we hold fast, he must attack us. But he +has no siege equipment, not even large field cannon." Travis' eye gleamed. +"Think of it, boys! He'll have to mount a frontal attack, against protected +American riflemen. Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him a few things +about that!" + +"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, anybody tell you there's maybe four or +five thousand Mexicaners comin'?" + +"Let them come. Less will leave!" + +But Jim, sour-faced turned to the other man. "Davey? You got something to +say?" + +"Hell, yes. How do we get out, after we done pinned Santa Anna down? You +thought of that, Billy boy?" + +Travis shrugged. "There is an element of grave risk, of course. Ord, +where's the document, the message you wrote up for me? Ah, thank you." +Travis cleared his throat. "Here's what I'm sending on to general Houston." +He read, "Commandancy of the Alamo, February 24, 1836 ... are you sure of +that date, Ord?" + +"Oh, I'm sure of that," Ord said. + +"Never mind--if you're wrong we can change it later. 'To the People of +Texas and all Americans in the World. Fellow Freemen and Compatriots! I am +besieged with a thousand or more Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have +sustained a continual bombardment for many hours but have not lost a man. +The enemy has demanded surrender at discretion, otherwise, the garrison is +to be put to the sword, if taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon +shot, and our flag still waves proudly over 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--" He paused, +frowning, "This language seems pretty old-fashioned, Ord--" + +"Oh, no, sir. That's exactly right," Ord murmured. + +"'... 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 his honor or that of his homeland. VICTORY OR DEATH!'" + + * * * * * + +Travis stopped reading, looked up. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" Ord breathed. +"The greatest words of defiance ever written in the English tongue--and so +much more literate than that chap at Bascogne." + +"You mean to send that?" Jim gasped. + +The man called Davey was holding his head in his hands. + +"You object, Colonel Bowie?" Travis asked icily. + +"Oh, cut that 'colonel' stuff, Bill," Bowie said. "It's only a National +Guard title, and I like 'Jim' better, even though I am a pretty important +man. Damn right I have an objection! Why, that message is almost +aggressive. You'd think we wanted to fight Santa Anna! You want us to be +marked down as warmongers? It'll give us trouble when we get to the +negotiation table--" + +Travis' head turned. "Colonel Crockett?" + +"What Jim says goes for me, too. And this: I'd change that part about all +Americans, et cetera. You don't want anybody to think we think we're better +than the Mexicans. After all, Americans are a minority in the world. Why +not make it 'all men who love security?' That'd have world-wide appeal--" + +"Oh, Crockett," Travis hissed. + +Crockett stood up. "Don't use that tone of voice to me, Billy Travis! That +piece of paper you got don't make you no better'n us. I ran for Congress +twice, and won. I know what the people want--" + +"What the people want doesn't mean a damn right now," Travis said harshly. +"Don't you realize the tyrant is at the gates?" + +Crockett rolled his eyes heavenward. "Never thought I'd hear a good +American say that! Billy, you'll never run for office--" + +Bowie held up a hand, cutting into Crockett's talk. "All right, Davey. Hold +up. You ain't runnin' for Congress now. Bill, the main thing I don't like +in your whole message is that part about victory or death. That's got to +go. Don't ask us to sell that to the troops!" + +Travis closed his eyes briefly. "Boys, listen. We don't have to tell the +men about this. They don't need to know the real story until it's too late +for them to get out. And then we shall cover ourselves with such glory that +none of us shall ever be forgotten. Americans are the best fighters in the +world when they are trapped. They teach this in the Foot School back on the +Chatahoochee. And if we die, to die for one's country is sweet--" + +"Hell with that," Crockett drawled. "I don't mind dyin', but not for these +big landowners like Jim Bowie here. I just been thinkin'--I don't own +nothing in Texas." + +"I resent that," Bowie shouted. "You know very well I volunteered, after I +sent my wife off to Acapulco to be with her family." With an effort, he +calmed himself. "Look, Travis. I have some reputation as a fighting +man--you know I lived through the gang wars back home. It's obvious this +Alamo place is indefensible, even if we had a thousand men." + +"But we must delay Santa Anna at all costs--" + +Bowie took out a fine, dark Mexican cigar and whittled at it with his +blade. Then he lit it, saying around it, "All right, let's all calm down. +Nothing a group of good men can't settle around a table. Now listen. I got +in with this revolution at first because I thought old Emperor Iturbide +would listen to reason and lower taxes. But nothin's worked out, because +hot-heads like you, Travis, queered the deal. All this yammerin' about +liberty! Mexico is a Republic, under an Emperor, not some kind of +democracy, and we can't change that. Let's talk some sense before it's too +late. We're all too old and too smart to be wavin' the flag like it's the +Fourth of July. Sooner or later, we're goin' to have to sit down and talk +with the Mexicans. And like Davey said, I own a million hectares, and I've +always paid minimum wage, and my wife's folks are way up there in the +Imperial Government of the Republic of Mexico. That means I got influence +in all the votin' groups, includin' the American Immigrant, since I'm a +minority group member myself. I think I can talk to Santa Anna, and even to +old Iturbide. If we sign a treaty now with Santa Anna, acknowledge the law +of the land, I think our lives and property rights will be respected--" He +cocked an eye toward Crockett. + +"Makes sense, Jim. That's the way we do it in Congress. Compromise, +everybody happy. We never allowed ourselves to be led nowhere we didn't +want to go, I can tell you! And Bill, you got to admit that we're in better +bargaining position if we're out in the open, than if old Santa Anna's got +us penned up in this old Alamo." + +"Ord," Travis said despairingly. "Ord, you understand. Help me! Make them +listen!" + + * * * * * + +Ord moved into the candlelight, his lean face sweating. "Gentlemen, this is +all wrong! It doesn't happen this way--" + +Crockett sneered, "Who asked you, Ord? I'll bet you ain't even got a poll +tax!" + +Decisively, Bowie said, "We're free men, Travis, and we won't be led around +like cattle. How about it, Davey? Think you could handle the rear guard, if +we try to move out of here?" + +"Hell, yes! Just so we're movin'!" + +"O.K. Put it to a vote of the men outside. Do we stay, and maybe get +croaked, or do we fall back and conserve our strength until we need it? +Take care of it, eh, Davey?" + +Crockett picked up his guitar and went outside. + +Travis roared, "This is insubordination! Treason!" He drew his saber, but +Bowie took it from him and broke it in two. Then the big man pulled his +knife. + +"Stay back, Ord. The Alamo isn't worth the bones of a Britainer, either." + +"Colonel Bowie, please," Ord cried. "You don't understand! You _must_ +defend the Alamo! This is the turning point in the winning of the west! If +Houston is beaten, Texas will never join the Union! There will be no +Mexican War. No California, no nation stretching from sea to shining sea! +This is the Americans' manifest destiny. You are the hope of the future ... +you will save the world from Hitler, from Bolshevism--" + +"Crazy as a hoot owl," Bowie said sadly. "Ord, you and Travis got to look +at it both ways. We ain't all in the right in this war--we Americans got +our faults, too." + +"But you are free men," Ord whispered. "Vulgar, opinionated, brutal--but +free! You are still better than any breed who kneels to tyranny--" + +Crockett came in. "O.K., Jim." + +"How'd it go?" + +"Fifty-one per cent for hightailin' it right now." + +Bowie smiled. "That's a flat majority. Let's make tracks." + +"Comin', Bill?" Crockett asked. "You're O.K., but you just don't know how +to be one of the boys. You got to learn that no dog is better'n any other." + +"No," Travis croaked hoarsely. "I stay. Stay or go, we shall all die like +dogs, anyway. Boys, for the last time! Don't reveal our weakness to the +enemy--" + +"What weakness? We're stronger than them. Americans could whip the Mexicans +any day, if we wanted to. But the thing to do is make 'em talk, not fight. +So long, Bill." + +The two big men stepped outside. In the night there was a sudden clatter of +hoofs as the Texans mounted and rode. From across the river came a brief +spatter of musket fire, then silence. In the dark, there had been no +difficulty in breaking through the Mexican lines. + +Inside the chapel, John Ord's mouth hung slackly. He muttered, "Am I +insane? It didn't happen this way--it couldn't! The books can't be _that_ +wrong--" + +In the candlelight, Travis hung his head. "We tried, John. Perhaps it was a +forlorn hope at best. Even if we had defeated Santa Anna, or delayed him, I +do not think the Indian Nations would have let Houston get help from the +United States." + +Ord continued his dazed muttering, hardly hearing. + +"We need a contiguous frontier with Texas," Travis continued slowly, just +above a whisper. "But we Americans have never broken a treaty with the +Indians, and pray God we never shall. _We_ aren't like the Mexicans, always +pushing, always grabbing off New Mexico, Arizona, California. _We_ aren't +colonial oppressors, thank God! No, it wouldn't have worked out, even if we +American immigrants had secured our rights in Texas--" He lifted a short, +heavy, percussion pistol in his hand and cocked it. "I hate to say it, but +perhaps if we hadn't taken Payne and Jefferson so seriously--if we could +only have paid lip service, and done what we really wanted to do, in our +hearts ... no matter. I won't live to see our final disgrace." + +He put the pistol to his head and blew out his brains. + + * * * * * + +Ord was still gibbering when the Mexican cavalry stormed into the old +mission, pulling down the flag and seizing him, dragging him before the +resplendent little general in green and gold. + +Since he was the only prisoner, Santa Anna questioned Ord carefully. When +the sharp point of a bayonet had been thrust half an inch into his stomach, +the Britainer seemed to come around. When he started speaking, and the +Mexicans realized he was English, it went better with him. Ord was +obviously mad, it seemed to Santa Anna, but since he spoke English and +seemed educated, he could be useful. Santa Anna didn't mind the raving; he +understood all about Napoleon's detention camps and what they had done to +Britainers over there. In fact, Santa Anna was thinking of setting up a +couple of those camps himself. When they had milked Ord dry, they threw him +on a horse and took him along. + +Thus John Ord had an excellent view of the battlefield when Santa Anna's +cannon broke the American lines south of the Trinity. Unable to get his men +across to safety, Sam Houston died leading the last, desperate charge +against the Mexican regulars. After that, the American survivors were too +tired to run from the cavalry that pinned them against the flooding river. +Most of them died there. Santa Anna expressed complete indifference to what +happened to the Texans' women and children. + +Mexican soldiers found Jim Bowie hiding in a hut, wearing a plain linen +tunic and pretending to be a civilian. They would not have discovered his +identity had not some of the Texan women cried out, "Colonel Bowie--Colonel +Bowie!" as he was led into the Mexican camp. + +He was hauled before Santa Anna, and Ord was summoned to watch. "Well, don +Jaime," Santa Anna remarked, "You have been a foolish man. I promised your +wife's uncle to send you to Acapulco safely, though of course your lands +are forfeit. You understand we must have lands for the veterans' program +when this campaign is over--" Santa Anna smiled then. "Besides, since Ord +here has told me how instrumental you were in the abandonment of the Alamo, +I think the Emperor will agree to mercy in your case. You know, don Jaime, +your compatriots had me worried back there. The Alamo might have been a +tough nut to crack ... _pues_, no matter." + +And since Santa Anna had always been broadminded, not objecting to light +skin or immigrant background, he invited Bowie to dinner that night. + + * * * * * + +Santa Anna turned to Ord. "But if we could catch this rascally war +criminal, Crockett ... however, I fear he has escaped us. He slipped over +the river with a fake passport, and the Indians have interned him." + +"Si, _Senor Presidente_," Ord said dully. + +"Please, don't call me that," Santa Anna cried, looking around. "True, many +of us officers have political ambitions, but Emperor Iturbide is old and +vain. It could mean my head--" + +Suddenly, Ord's head was erect, and the old, clear light was in his blue +eyes. "Now I understand!" he shouted. "I thought Travis was raving back +there, before he shot himself--and your talk of the Emperor! American +respect for Indian rights! Jeffersonian form of government! Oh, those +ponces who peddled me that X-4-A--the _track jumper_! I'm not back in my +own past. I've jumped the time track--_I'm back in a screaming +alternate!_" + +"Please, not so loud, _Senor_ Ord," Santa Anna sighed. "Now, we must shoot +a few more American officers, of course. I regret this, you understand, and +I shall no doubt be much criticized in French Canada and Russia, where +there are still civilized values. But we must establish the Republic of the +Empire once and for all upon this continent, that aristocratic tyranny +shall not perish from the earth. Of course, as an Englishman, you +understand perfectly, Senor Ord." + +"Of course, excellency," Ord said. + +"There are soft hearts--soft heads, I say--in Mexico who cry for civil +rights for the Americans. But I must make sure that Mexican dominance is +never again threatened north of the Rio Grande." + +"_Seguro_, excellency," Ord said, suddenly. If the bloody X-4-A _had_ +jumped the track, there was no getting back, none at all. He was stuck +here. Ord's blue eyes narrowed. "After all, it ... it is manifest destiny +that the Latin peoples of North America meet at the center of the +continent. Canada and Mexico shall share the Mississippi." + +Santa Anna's dark eyes glowed. "You say what I have often thought. You are +a man of vision, and much sense. You realize the _Indios_ must go, whether +they were here first or not. I think I will make you my secretary, with the +rank of captain." + +"_Gracias_, Excellency." + +"Now, let us write my communique to the capital, _Capitan_ Ord. We must +describe how the American abandonment of the Alamo allowed me to press the +traitor Houston so closely he had no chance to maneuver his men into the +trap he sought. _Ay, Capitan_, it is a cardinal principle of the +Anglo-Saxons, to get themselves into a trap from which they must fight +their way out. This I never let them do, which is why I succeed where +others fail ... you said something, _Capitan_?" + +"_Si_, Excellency. I said, I shall title our communique: 'Remember the +Alamo,'" Ord said, standing at attention. + +"_Bueno!_ You have a gift for words. Indeed, if ever we feel the _gringos_ +are too much for us, your words shall once again remind us of the truth!" +Santa Anna smiled. "I think I shall make you a major. You have indeed +coined a phrase which shall live in history forever!" + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Remember the Alamo, by R. R. 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