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diff --git a/old/30267.txt b/old/30267.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b48ec8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30267.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: 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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