I Am Rejoiced At My Fate: Three letters in January, 1836

Crockett's favorite portrait

Back in January of 1836, three future Alamo defenders sent their last known letters back home from the road to martyrdom. One of the letter writers was the legendary David Crockett. It was an encouraging letter, letting his loved ones back home know how his scouting expedition was going. It is a rather touching farewell, full of hope for a prosperous future he would never get to see.

St Augustine Texas Jany 9 1836

My Dear Son & Daughter this is the first time I have had the opportunity to write to you with convenience I am now blessed with excellent health and am in high spirits although I have had many difficultys to encounter I have got through safe and have been received by every body with the open arm of friendship I am hailed with a hardy welcome to this country a dinner and a party of Ladys have honored me with an invitation to participate with them both in Nacogdoches and this place the cannon was fired here on my arrival and I must say as to what I have seen of Texas it is the garden spot of the world the best land and the best prospect for health I ever saw is here and I do believe it is a fortune to any man to come here there is a world of country to settle it is not required here to pay down for your League of Land every man is entitled to his head right of 4000 - 428 acres they may make the money to pay for it off the Land.

I expect in all probability to settle on the Bodark or Choctaw Bayou of Red River that I have no doubt is the richest country in the world good Land and plenty of timber and the best springs and good mill streams good range clear water and ever appearance of good health and game plenty It is in the pass where the Buffalo passes from the north to south and back twice a year and bees and honey plenty.

I have a great hope of getting the agency to settle that country and I would be glad to see every friend I have settle there It would be a fortune to them all I have taken the oath of the Government and have enrolled my name as a volunteer for six months and will set out for the Rio Grand in a few days with the volunteers from the United States all volunteers is entitled to a vote for a member of the convention or to be voted for and I have but little doubt of being elected a member to form a constitution for this Province.

I am rejoiced at my fate I had rather be in my present situation than to be elected to a seat in Congress for life I am in hopes of making a fortune for my self and family bad as has been my prospects.

I have not wrote to William but have requested John to direct him what to do I hope you show him this letter and also your brother John as it is not convenient at this time for me to write to them.

I hope you will do the best you can and I will do the same do not be uneasy about me for I am with my friends. I must close with great respects your affectionate Father 

Farewell
David Crockett

After being beaten at politics for defending the Cherokee against the land hungry settlers and with a deep rooted hatred for the current president Martin Van Buren (a Jackson man), Crockett did what many Americans in history have threatened when someone they hated took power - he left the United States. 

Texas was a foreign country then (still kinda is) as it was a northern state of Mexico. Crockett's fellow Tennessee failure, Sam Houston, already lived here and was quickly becoming a mover and a shaker. He was also secretly trying to get Texas for Andy Jackson to annex...but that's another story.

Crockett, like Houston, came seeking rebirth as a big fish in a small pond. He'd been talking about moving to Texas at least since 1834. Most folks back then moved to Texas to start over and remake themselves into something grander than what they had been in the United States. Texas was a tabula rasa - a blank slate - for struggling folks in the United States, a "garden spot" overflowing with natural resources the tiny population of Tejanos had thus far failed to exploit. Texas was a seductive siren for mid-life crisis men like Crockett trying to shake off their failures and start fresh. 

Crockett very much needed a new start. Though he was a superstar he somehow managed to stay rather poor. He'd written a popular autobiography, made a public tour of the East coast, served in Congress, had popular stage characters created in his image, etc. but he still had to pawn a watch when he got into Texas in order to get a little spending money. Think of that. Here was a man who was literally a household name all over the US and he had to pawn his personal belongings to buy simple provisions.

The rumblings of the Texas Revolution had already vibrated east, so Crockett was well aware of the general state of affairs when he entered East Texas January 5, 1836. He had been delivering "You can go to hell, and I will go to Texas" speeches over and over again as he traveled from Tennessee through Arkansas and into Nacogdoches. Once he arrived in Texas he very quickly decided to join the army of the provisional government and would later take the oath on January 14th, famously signing it only after insisting upon the insertion of the word "republican" in the document. He would only swear allegiance to the "Provisional Government of Texas or any future REPUBLICAN government that may be hereafter declared." Crockett had his belly full of American tyrants in the White House...he wouldn't risk his neck to prop up another. By then, he was fully committed to the Texian cause of liberty. He certainly also had an eye towards a future position in the new government. If you're going to bleed to birth a nation, why wouldn't you want to be rewarded with a position in the newborn government? But his insistence on the new government being republican in nature reveals a certain high minded idealism in his decision to join the army. After joining the army, he set his eyes towards San Antonio...and Eternity. 

Whenever I read up on the events surrounding the Alamo, I am always struck by Crockett's situation. Here was a 50 year old guy, at that time well past middle age, trying to start completely over. He was a national celebrity but had to sell his own watch to get money. How embarrassing that must have been. He had little military experience but was now suddenly considered one of the most important leaders in probably the most famous siege in modern history. He was also one of the oldest defenders surrounded by 20-something single men who all revered him as a Paul Bunyan type figure. From the few eye witness accounts, it's more than apparent he took on a fatherly responsibility of the men, knowing he was the de facto alpha male because of his fame. He constantly worked to keep the morale up with jokes, encouragement, bouts of marksmanship and fiddle playing. Though I don't find him quite as fascinating as Jim Bowie, I think Crockett was one of the most moral men involved at the Alamo. He was there for the right reasons. As he told the citizens of San Antonio upon his arrival:

  

"Fellow citizens, I am among you. I have come to your country, though not, I hope, through any selfish motive whatever. I have come to aid you all I can in your noble cause. I shall identify myself with your interests, and all the honor that I desire is defending as a high private, in common with my fellow citizens, the liberties of our common country."

Crockett was in Texas because he fought for the Cherokee against the almighty Andrew Jackson. He was now fighting a brutal dictator in order to establish a republican government. He had the chance to slip over the wall and escape but never did. He staid and fought it out till the end. He was a very simple man - too simple to succeed as a politician - but he was a heroic man more than worthy of his beloved motto "Be always sure you're right-then go a-head!"

She is tolerably ugly and tolerably poor and tolerably illiterate. But she is virtuous and a good housekeeper...

That's a hilarious snippet from a letter written by William R. Carey about his prospective bride. Though we've all heard of Travis, Bowie and Crockett, Carey was actually the Alamo's FIRST Texian commander after it was captured from the Mexican army.

Ben Milam

A native Virginian, Carey first arrived in Texas in the summer of 1835 at Washington-on-the-Brazos. When the revolution began a few months later, he joined up, became a lieutenant, and followed "Old Ben Milam into San Antone" at the battle of Bexar. After the battle, most folks went home. It was December, the Mexican army had been sent packing and no one figured reprisals from Santa Anna till well into spring. Besides, the battle of Bexar was kind of a last minute, let's-everybody-charge-pell-mell-into-Bexar-just-for-the-helluva-it type of battle. Most Texians had already left for home before the battle anyway. Only 300 charged in at Milam's battle cry. Carey was elected captain of his artillery unit and they stayed in San Antone through winter to give Lt. Col. James C. Neill some help with further fortifying the Alamo. Neill stayed in town and commanded there for a bit, while Carey commanded from the Alamo till Neill eventually moved his boys into the Alamo.

James C. Neill, later in life

Neill had to leave the Alamo in February because of a family emergency. He handed over command to William B. Travis and thus set him on the path to Immortality while Neill has sadly become a much neglected figure in Texas history. Captain Carey meanwhile continued to command his unit which now bore the totally awesome nickname "The Invincibles." That tells you a lot about Carey right there. He would command the artillery throughout the siege and met his fate, like all the other adult male volunteers, in the early darkness of a March morning two weeks later.

Not much to hang a bio on thus far. But what really grabbed my attention about this defender was a long letter he sent to his family about two months before his death. It's pretty colorful and this guy had a great sense of humor. His hilarious comment on the unprepossessing looks and wit of his new bride made me laugh out loud. The spelling and punctation have been preserved on this letter but I made more paragraphs so you don't lose your place. It may seem long but I highly recommend you read it all the way through. This brave man's personality really comes through across the centuries as he describes the battle of Bexar and his life as the Alamo commander during the months before his death. His unique voice may remind you of some colorful people in your own life in these all too drab modern times.

The earliest known picture of the Alamo, 1849

St. Antonio De Bexar
Jan. 12, 1836
Dear Brother & Sister

To give you any satisfaction about my situation at present I should have to give you a history of Texas and the Mexican Government, but let me commence by saying that I am in the volunteer army of Texas. I arrived at Washington on the 28th of July. This is a small town situated on the Brazos river & there I intended to take up my final residence, but the unsettled state of affairs between Texas & the Mexican Government, I was called to the field.

Movements on the part of the Mexicans aroused our suspicious. They want to establish Centralism or rather military depotism, a government that is repugnant to the principals of free born Americans, we remonstrated and sent commissioners, but we could not positively ascertain on account of their treachery and deceit. They denied it and still they were making preparations for it, but we were on the alert.

I shall have to state the situation of this place and also the town of Gonzales so as to give a little information on the affair. This place is an ancient Mexican fort & Town divided by a small river which eminates from Springs. The town has two Squares in and the church in the centre, one a military and the other a government square. The Alamo or the fort as we call it, is a very old building, built for the purpose of protecting the citizens from hostile Indians. The Mexican army or rather part of them came to this place commanded by Martin de Perfecto de Coss, a bold aspiring young General. The town of Gonzales is about 78 miles below this place on the Warloupe (Guadalupe) river. 

The Battle of Gonzales

The enemy (as I shall now call them) sent about 200 of their troops to Gonzales after a cannon that they sent there for the use of the citizens to fight the indians. We then were aroused and watched closely their movements. 

Volunteers was called for to fight for their country I was one of the first that started, about 150 of us ready in a moments warning, and we marched to Gonzales and put the enemy to flight they retreated to this place, we then considered it essentially necessity for the security of our peace to drive them from this place, but we concluded to wait for reinforcements as we were so few in number, and they in a fortified place but unfortunately for us they commenced fortifying the town and strengthening the alamo until it became almost impossible to overcome them, our number increased gradually to the amount of 800 but on account of so many office seekers there was nothing but confusion, contention arid discord throughout the encampment, which was within a half a mile of the place, for we came up to endeavor to starve them out. and on the 4th day of December a retreat was ordered to the satisfaction of many. but to the grief of a few brave souls who was among the first that volunteered and who preferred Death in the cause rather than such a disgraceful retreat. We rallied around a brave soul (Colo Milan) and requested him to be our leader, he consented and 150 of us declared to take the place or die in the attempt, while a large number of them endeavored to discourage us and said we would all be butchered, but a few more seen we were resolute and joined untill our number was 220, and on the next morning about day break we marched in the town under the heavy fires of their cannon & musketry, but we succeeded in getting possession of some stone houses (which is outside of the square) that sheltered us a little from their fires until we could make Breastworks for ourselves we labored hard day and night for 5 days still gaining possession when on the morning of the 5th day they sent in a flag of truce to the extreme joy of us all, Thus a handful of militia of 220 in number stormed a strongly fortified place which was supported with two thousand citizens & soldiers (of the enemy)

Here I must remark, on the third day of the siege our leader fell in the battle, another userped the command who never was in favor of storming and had ordered the retreat but he was in time to make a disgraceful treaty, some strongly suspect bribery was the cause but whether or ignorance I cannot decide. The enemy on the third day of the siege raised a black flag (which says no quarters) and when we had whiped them by washing the flag with the blood of about 300 of them we should have made a Treaty and not a childs bargain however it is done now and its too late to alter until we have another fight which we expect shortly.

Now a little about myself. I volunteered as a private and as a private in camp was always ready and willing to discharge the duty of a soldier when called on. I was out on a number of scouts and would frequently creep up to the Mexican sentinals at a late hour when they thought alls well and shoot one or two of them of a night — and Oh ! my dear sister and brothers how often have I thought of you when I have been walking the lonely wood or barren fields as a sentinel exposed to all the inclemencies of the weather and suffering many privations which you can not have the least idea of. but all was sweet when I reflected on our forefathers in the strugle of liberty. about the 28th of October I was appointed 2d Lieut. of artillery and during the siege I was promoted to first on account of the first Lieut. being cashiered for cowardice he always use the word go and I the word come on my brave boys. I thought & still think that nothing but fate save me we only had four killed and thirteen wounded three of the wounded & two of the killed received the shots along side of me when discharging their duty at a cannon that was ordered by a fool in the open street immediately before the enemies breastworks within 120 yards of their heavy fires, but he was my Superior and I did obey and when the men was killed & wounded I loaded and fired the gun assisted by two more instead of ten and escaped only slightly wounded, a ball passed through my hat and cut the flesh to the scull bone and my clothes received many shots until by a lucky shot made by me into the port-hole of the Enemy I dismounted their cannon which caused them to cease firing untill we got our away-but this is useless to state such trivial sercumstances, the wound never prevented me from working the guns.

After we took the place and the child’s bargain made, it was thought requisite for some to remain to protect it, volunteers was called for to inlist for four months and did those that came at the eleventh hour and remained in the camps expecting us all to be killed and they men of property in this country and have their all in Texas did they come forward to protect the place. No. They pilfered us of our blankets and clothes and horses and went home telling how they whipt the Spaniards reaping the laurels of a few.

The Alamo, 1854

Those that fired the first guns at Gonzales and who declared on victory or death. Those who came in when death stared them in the face, and labored hard day and night half starved and almost famished for water, it was them that volunteered to maintain the post untill Texas government could make some provision to keep the Standing army here, and these men have now become almost naked, destitute of funds having expended all for food and munitions of war and not much to eat only some corn that we grind ourselves & poor beef this constitutes our dayly food, but we hourly expect supplies news has arrived that there is plenty of provisions & money and clothes on the way. I hope it’s true.

I have strayed a little from the subject. when volunteers were called for they were to form into companies and elect their of officers-fifty six brave souls joined into a company of artillery and chose me for their Captain. I accepted the command and my dear sister is it possible that the once ignorant weak and fickle minded W. R. Carey should now be at the head of so many brave men as their leader-It is a fact and with his parental name. have I deserved this post of honor, its not for me to say, but the brave proclaimed it,

The forces here is commanded by Lieut. Colo J. C. Neill who has his quarters in the Town which is called the left wing of the forces and your brother William has the command of the alamo which is called the right wing I am subject to the orders of Colo Neill but he thinks a great deal of my judgment and consults me about a number of the proceedings before he issues an order. Brothers & sister do not think that I am vain my friends here says I dont possess enough of vanity for my own good, except when we go to fight the Enemy and then I think a small number of us can whip an army of Mexicans-I know one thing, I am deceived in myself.

La Cocina, Theodore Gentilz

When I was in Natchitoches I wrote to you and stated I believe that soon I should look out for a companion. It would have happened this winter if the war had not commenced but fortunately it did. My selection was nothing to boast of she is tolerably ugly and tolerably poor and tolerably illiterate. but she is virtuous and a good housekeeper, but there is no prospect now, as I was conversing with a Mexican lady the other day she remarked that in time of peace the ladies would gladly embrace the offer or accept the hand of an officer, but in these war times they would too soon become a widow. She may be right but I dont think it, however I have too much else to think about now. as I have not been a graduate at West point, I must study military affairs now for I am rejoiced at the opportunity to do something for myself.

The men in this place have sometimes been discouraged on account of the distressed situation we are in; for want of clothes and food. The Colo and myself has twice called a general parade and addressed them in such a manner that they would get satisfied for a while, but we are now discouraged ourselves, and unless the provisional government of Texas do speedily send us assistance we will abandon the place, we have sent and made known our situation to them, and as the safety of Texas depends mostly upon the keeping of this place certainly will as soon as possible do some thing for us especially when we expect to declare independence as soon as the convention meets.
Those of its here has already declared it with a recommendation to the convention of Declaring it but this place is so far in the interior that it takes some time for news to go and supplies to come. The Savage Camancha Indians is near at hand we expect soon to have a fight with them. Since I commenced writing this letter I have received an order to prepare and I have run over it quicker than I would have done as a friend of mine Wm. Guile is going to the States and I thought it a good opportunity as he will put it in the Philadelphia post office and you I think will get it.

I cannot close without saying something about my invincibles, as I call them, about twenty of my company (although the whole has been tried and I know them all) that will (to use their words) wade through h-ll, when I am at their head if I should give the order — O sister could you but see me at the head of those brave men marching forward (undismayed) to perform their duty. To relate circumstances of their bravery it would fill it large book. When the enemy ten to one has marched up as if they in one minute would send us all to eternity to see the invincibles rush forward charge upon them and put them to flight except those we would either kill or take prisoners. We have had many such scirmishes since we left home. a circumstance occurred the other day which I must relate, a man for disobedience of orders and bad conduct was ordered to arrested (he was not under my command) The officer who received this order took a file of men and attempted to arrest him — he resisted and swore with pistols in his hands that he would shoot down the first man that attempted his arrest, the officer retreated without him the Colo immediately sent an order to me informing me of the circumstance and requesting me to take a file of my invinicibles and bring the culprit to trial. I ordered three of the brave to prepare immediately I buckled on my sword and went to him he was with two more who also swore he should not be taken, I approached him with my men he told me if I came one step further he would certainly shoot me down the other two swore the same and with great confidence too as he had put the other off but he soon found himself mistaken my men wanted to rush immediately upon them I ordered them to halt and I walked up to him and with a mild tone told him to disarm himself or I would cut him assunder he sheepishly laid down his pistols and gave himself up, the other two swore still that we should not take him. I insignificantly look up and told them if they attempted to move or put their finger on the trigger of their arms that they should fall on the spot they stood. I then walked up to them and took their arms likewise, my men stopt where I ordered them, watching minutely their movements ready at the twinkling of an eye to do what I should say, I told them to take those gentlemen to the guardhouse, which was done & there they remained until trial, the court marshall passed a sentence or would have passed a sentence of death upon the first. I found it out and went into my room and wrote two notes one to the court and the other to the Colo. and the sentence was remitted and he was drummed out of the army they all said that nothing but the invincibles with Capt Carey could have taken them as he expected to die any way if he was tried. When any thing of a dangerous character is to be done its by order Capt Carey will take a file from comp. of his men and go immediately and — — — — — -. its always done. This should not come from me but as I am writing to Brothers and sister I think you ought to know something about these matters.

The Fall of the Alamo, Robert Jenkins Onderdonk

I must close by saying that if I live, as soon as the war is over I will endeavor to see you all. Write to brother John or send this letter to him the reason why Brother I dont write to you is I dont know whether you are in Baltimore or not and brother William & sister I am nearly certain is in the same place yet — Write to me if you please and give as much satisfaction as you can — You will direct to Wm. R. Carey, Washington. Austin’s Colony. Texas and I think I will get it, you will have to pay the postage as they will not be taken out of the office in New Orleans unless they are postpaid.

Your affectionate Brother
Wm. R. Carey
Mailed at Natchitoches, Feb. 7, 1836

Be of good cheer Martha. I will provide you a sweet home...

Micajah Autry, Fondren Library, Rice University

The last letter, dated January 12, 1836 is from Alamo defender, Micajah Autry. I love investigating the private stories of the lesser known defenders. They don't usually get much of a spotlight and sometimes people get the impression that Crockett, Bowie and Travis were the only ones trapped in the fort and held off the Mexican army all by their lonesome.

Micajah Autry popped into this world in North Carolina about 1793. He served in the War of 1812 then lead a life of various pursuits: farmer, teacher, lawyer, merchant, etc. He was unsuccessful at most of them. This is a familiar blueprint for most early immigrants to Texas. While on business trips up east to New York and Philadelphia he heard the siren call of Texas - that hunger to wipe the slate clean and begin anew. He headed out from Tennessee and eventually arrived in Nacogdoches in early January of 1836.

He signed up for the volunteer army here along with a certain ex-congressman from Tennessee and they both rode with a company of boys captained by a 20 something William B. Harrison. They headed for Washington-on-the-Brazos first but made their way to Bexar soon enough. The company arrived at their final destination in early February. Autry would join his riding companion David Crockett and other new found friends in dying at the Alamo about a month later. Autry had quite an artistic mind, which might explain his lack of success in business and law. He was an amateur poet, writer, artist, and musician. I imagine him scrawling out rough poetry during the siege, chronicling his impressions in verse, an Iliad of sorts. Verses that burn in the funeral pyre alongside his body and his dreams. He sent several letters back home to his wife Martha before the siege. His education and artistic sense comes through in them, setting them apart from most letters I've read from that time period. His last one I enjoy reading the most. It's very touching with an inspired turn of phrase here and there. When you read him describing himself as going "whole hog in the cause of Texas" and that Texas is worth "risking many lives for" it makes you wish there were more people today who were very willing to lay down their lives for the welfare of Texas. These men were going into a revolution knowing full well they may never return, willing to leave all they loved and die to set up a Republic. The postscript of this letter is especially poignant as he remembers treasured moments with his beloved wife. I wonder how he would feel if he saw Texas today? Would he be proud? Or would he think the blood of he and his companions wasted?

Here's a portion of the letter - 

Nacogdoches, Texas: I have reached this point after many hardships and privations but thank God in most excellent health. The very fatigue that I have suffered has in a degree stifled reflection and has been an advantage to me. I walked from Natchitoches where I wrote you last to this place 115 miles through torrents of rain, mud and water. I remained a few days in St. Augustine when Captain Kimble from Clarksville, Ten, a lawyer of whom you may recollect to have hear me speak arrived with a small company of select men, 4 of them lawyers. I joined them and find them perfect gentlemen...I have become one of the most thorough going men you have heard of. I go whole hog in the cause of Texas. I expect to help them gain their Independence and also to form their civil government, for it is worth risking many lives for. From what I have seen and learned from others there is not so fair a portion of the earth's surface warmed by the sun.

Be of good cheer Martha. I will provide you a sweet home. 

P.S. We stand guard of nights and night before last was mine to stand two hours during which the moon rose in all her mildness but splendor and majesty. With what pleasure did I contemplate that lovely orb chiefly because I recollected how often I had taken pleasure in standing in the door and contemplating her together. Indeed I imagined that you might be looking at her at the same time. 

Farewell Dear Martha.

The Crockett Almanac

Copyright Ben Friberg, 2019

Once Upon a Time in Texas: The Hair Raising Tale of Josiah Wilbarger

A woodcut by famed author O. Henry for Indian Depredations in Texas

Howdy y'all! Welcome back for another thrilling episode of the Texian. This one is a little different. I am still gathering interviews with different Texas history experts for future episodes, so in the meantime I've decided to tell my own version of a famous tall tale from our past. A tall tale that happens to be true. It's the first in my little side series called Once upon a Time in Texas. These will be my own versions of Texas legends and folklore, in which I will tell you what's true, what's fiction, and what we just ain't exactly sure of just yet. Since legend and folklore are such a big part of our state's past, I figured they needed their own little subsection here on the Texian. Hope you enjoy this first entry! Be sure and share with your friends!

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A purported picture of Josiah Wilbarger. You can see the bald patch where his head wound still gapes. 

A photo Bigfoot Wallace, taken about thirty years after Wilbarger told him this harrowing tale. 

Some of the non-classical music used this episode...My friend Jonathan English does his usual bang up job with a new piece with some creepy vibes and we listen to his beautiful, mournful guitar piece "Lust for Glory" once again. More awesome and copyright free pieces by Ross Bugden: Epic Chase Music, Adventure/Western Music and The Wasteland. Check out his great work on Youtube!

podcast and article copyright The Texian, 2018

Remembering Goliad with some Texian Macabre

Howdy y'all! Welcome to another exciting and slightly quirky episode of The Texian. Today we talk with our favorite, and thus far only guest host, Dr. Stephen L. Hardin, about his outstanding book Texian Macabre. It's a creepy yarn, following a fortunate survivor of the infamous Goliad Massacre to his unfortunate demise at the end of a hangman's rope in the new town of Houston. It paints a fascinating portrait of the early days of the Texas Republic and the seedy underbelly of the new town. But we start off with some background on the Goliad massacre, sharing some eyewitness accounts, and try to figure out why everyone remembers the Alamo, but so few today seem to remember Goliad. It's such a tragic story in it's own right, I feel like we will be returning to it time and again for future podcasts. Hope you enjoy! We've also got a new track from our musical composer, Jonathan English with an appropriately creepy vibe. Now sit back, relax, and let's plunge into the action packed annals of our Texas history!
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I've also added some of my own pictures that I've taken at the Coleto Battlefield site, Presidio La Bahia and the grave site of the Goliad martyrs. I highly recommend a trip in mid Spring when the Texas countryside is afire with our famed wildflowers. Go pay your respects to those who died for Texas. 

Some of the non-classical music used this episode... Awesome copyright free pieces by Ross Bugden: Epic Chase Music, Adventure/Western music and The Wasteland. The Gunfight by Everet Almond was also used. Check out all their great work on Youtube!

podcast, article and pictures copyright The Texian, 2018

Lust for Glory

Howdy y'all! Welcome to the third episode of the Texian! Today we do a little something different and instead of focusing in on a specific event or person, we sit down and chat with our favorite guest host, Dr. Stephen L. Hardin, about his new book: Lust for Glory. It gives us a fascinating glimpse into the life of the short lived Republic of Texas and the colorful cast of characters who inhabited that stage of history. Hope you enjoy getting a sneak peak into the pages of what promises to be a fantastic and classic book!

Also a special treat, in addition to my usual fun use of classical music, I've also got some great tracks from my friend Jonathan English, with an especially haunting piece at the end. Hope you all enjoy!

Here's a link directly to this book on Amazon: Lust for Glory

Might be something to add to your holiday wish list! I know I will.

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A Line in the Sand

Today on The Texian we continue our discussion about myths and misconceptions of the Alamo siege with Dr. Stephen L. Hardin of McMurry University. We start off with an in-depth look at the legendary Line in the Sand and then go on to delve into other controversial topics, including the always fiery debate on how Davy Crockett died. This is a continuation of the discussion begun in the last episode, so if you haven't listened to Episode 1, you might want to do so in order to get up to speed. Thanks again for listening and I hope you enjoy the ride!

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A special treat....

When I recently read the original version of "the Line" as printed in the Texas Almanac, I was stuck by how poorly Zuber's story is told. The speech given by Travis is obviously mostly Zuber’s invention, as Dr. Hardin talks about in the podcast. It doesn’t sound much like anything Travis wrote. It rambles all over the place and doesn’t have the poetry or inner fire we know Travis capable of. In short, it’s no St. Crispin Day’s Speech. And if you have ever read the young colonel's incredible appeal for help to “The People of Texas and All Americans in the World," Zuber's own version of Travis giving a speech falls flat. Reading this original version made me want to write my own take on the tale, to make my "Alamo movie scene" in a manner of speaking. I have striven to make it as accurate as possible, which is a kinda strange standard for something that likely didn't happen at all. I have incorporated as many actual proven facts as I could to give it a firmer foot in reality. I envisioned it like a documentarian, focusing on one person then moving to another, as if a photographer had been thrown back in time and dropped down amongst the Alamo garrison. Even if "The Line" is a tall tale, it has still become an important American myth, and it's certainly a symbol of what the men and women at the Alamo essentially were forced to do. I think it is always a story worth retelling. I am especially happy that famed historical artist (and THE best artist of the Texas Revolution) Gary Zaboly has allowed me to use a few of his incredible pictures to illustrate my take on the classic tale. J. Frank Dobie describes the Line in the Sand as "a line that not all the piety nor wit of research will ever blot out. It is a grand canyon cut into the bedrock of human emotions and historical impulses." I agree. I hope you enjoy my version of this mythic moment.

A Line in the Sand

For days they ringed us with their flame,

For days their swarming soldiers came,

The battle wrack was gory.

We perished in the smoke and flame,

To give the world their traitor shame,

And our undying glory.

– Robert E. Howard

         How do you tell your men they will all be dead in a day or two? The young man's stomach twisted. He did not ask for this command. He wanted to ride in the cavalry again, craved the freedom of lighting quick attacks, the wind in his ears. He was a firebrand, an instigator of revolution – of action. Instead he was now a rat beating his head against a cage.
         Powder stained fingers rubbed through red beard stubble before pocketing worthless letters promising aid. Gravel crunching under his tread evoked dirt thudding on coffin lids. The garrison awaited him across the plaza in the cold shadow of the Alamo church. A worn stone cross, a crumbling memory of Spain, sprouted from the ground in the midst of them. He read the stress and marrow-deep exhaustion in each set jaw, in the powder reddened eyes. Some nodded off where they stood. More vibrated like violin strings, adrenaline electrifying their veins. Each expected a surprise cannonade to drop out of the sky any moment.      
         Little Enrique Esparza stared at the round faced man in the short tailed blue coat, a red sash wrapping a somewhat portly waist, eyes glowing iced fire. The boy’s mother squeezed a calloused hand around her son’s. Susanna Dickenson’s sad blue eyes looked down at her Angelina sleeping in her arms. A cat’s eye ring once belonging to the young commander dangled on a string about the child’s neck. Enrique and the Losoya boy shared their fright in an uneasy glance. Once playmates in the streets of Bexar, their families now huddled together. Gentlemen in battered top hats and dusty coats stood alongside rough n’ tumbles in buckskin. Slaves stood alongside their masters, not behind, feeling a sudden bizarre sense of equality in the face of annihilation.

Gary Zaboly's beautiful depiction of the types composing the garrison

         Travis breathed deep and thrust his shoulders back. He smiled tightly at little Enrique. I am never going to see my little boy again. It took him almost a minute to find his voice standing before the army of soon-to-be corpses. He choked on his words. Bowie watched through crusted eyes from a cot of fever stained sheets. He alone of the sick and wounded asked to be carried out to this meeting. At long last the rough-edged voice of William Barret Travis shattered the funerary silence.

          “Friends, as I am sure most of you are aware, another messenger arrived earlier today. He will be our last. The news is bleak as death. No help is coming. It seems none can be bothered to ride to our aid or those who wish to cannot now make it through the strangle hold of the Army of Operations. I also sent out one of our Bexareños to Santa Anna’s camp last night. As our hope of reinforcements has continued to dwindle, I felt it my duty to see how I might save the lives of the wounded and non-combatants. I...I put out feelers for an honorable surrender.” Shame seared his face. “But ‘Surrender at discretion or be put to the sword' is still the answer. After what that butcher did to the people of Zacatecas, he’ll show no mercy to us. Santa Anna will now attack as soon as possible. He must sack the Alamo simply to retain some semblance of glory. Once his commanders learn that an honorable surrender was under discussion they will demand he accept to avoid a pitched battle. Almonte and Castrillon are gentlemen even if their generalissimo is not. There would be no bloodshed and El Presidente would not win the sanguine laurels he so craves. Remember, he was blooded in his youth at the Battle of Medina. He was tutored in butchery by the Spaniard Arredondo. Half the male populace of Texas wiped out, women outraged and enslaved, Bexar devastated.  This was the school of Santa Anna. This is what we can expect for San Felipe, Gonzales, Nacogdoches and the rest. I believe our gothic enemy will launch upon us in two or three days. We must fight. And we must die. 

            Yet we are still faced with a choice. When the attack comes, a handful of us may be able to break out and escape in the confusion. Singly we might slip over the wall tonight and creep through the guards. Some could get through. Most would not. The Mexicans will be looking for a desperate escape attempt and any groups will be cut to pieces. But still, there is a chance that a few of us can make it through. So, it is up to each of us to decide - make a break for it or stay till the bitter end.

            As for me… I will stay. I did not ask to be here anymore than the rest of you. If Col. Neill had not been called away, I would likely be with the army back east. Yet destiny has placed me here, alongside you. I would have it no other way. It has been the greatest honor of my life to serve as your commander and I am so very, very proud of the high-souled courage with which you have manned these walls day after day. I am humbled to stand before you.  And now I must choose: my life or my duty. I choose the duty God has seen fit to rest upon me. I choose to bleed the enemy so he can only limp toward the homes of our friends and families. I choose to die a free man striking a blow against the tyranny of this so-called Napoleon of the West. I choose to fight to the death, so that the convention at Washington may have enough time to declare independence and create a Constitution. That would make this all worthwhile. For me. To know my heart’s blood cemented the drafting of a free government for a republic of heroes. To know my corpse was a stumbling block on the road to our settlements. To know that when my country cried out for succor, I answered the call and showed the world how a free man dies…to show how a free man lives.The Alamo cannot hold. But we few, we may still hamstring this murderous giant and send him crashing headlong to destruction. Like the Spartans at Thermopylae, shoulder to shoulder, brother beside brother, we can die so that our neighbors may live.”

               Gary Zaboly's beautiful dramatization of the drawing of the Line
       

            His sword flashed lightning in the quickening sunset. The garrison lurched at the explosion of action. Sword point speared the earth and dredged a long line in the dirt before the entire mass of listeners. The shimmering blade wavered through their misty eyes.

            “Back in December when Old Ben Milam called for volunteers to assault Bexar, so many had already left for home. Still, he drew a line in the dirt and roared out “Who will go with Old Ben Milam into San Antone?”  An army of three hundred patriots answered the call. Ben died a martyr. But in the end, the line he dug was a path to victory. We may be martyred here, and may our bones reproach our country for its neglect, but the sacrifice we make will not be in vain. Our blood shall emancipate Texas and may posterity and our country do our memory justice.  So, my friends, make your choice. Between escape or immortality. Between escape or victory.”

         Silence reigned. The tricolored flag emblazoned with two stars, representing Tejas y Coahuila, flapped in the chill breeze above them. Leaves rustled on the giant cottonwood towering above that corner of the fort. Time stood still. 

         At last, a form slowly drifted forward from the ranks. Young Tapley Holland, body shaking but his boyish face a-light with some inner fire, stumbled out towards the line. “I am ready to die for my country,” he managed to choke out. He crossed over.

Travis and the Band of Brothers by Gary Zaboly 

      Crockett adjusted his iconic hat. “Well, hell. Alright boys, time to go ahead and vote with your feet!” He crossed over. Yet the great rider of comets seemed pale around the gills and his crooked smile hung a bit looser. More followed silently. Eyes and hearts overflowed, choking all speech.  Families moved with their menfolk. Slaves, for reasons known only to their hearts, crossed over. Bowie watched propped up on one arm. His voice gurgled phlegm as he tried to speak but a violent fit of coughing knocked his frail body back. Gasping, he stared up at the stars popping out in the dusk and remembered a night chasing Comanche and the songs of an old vaquero in all that lonesome dark.

         “And heroes of a million generations march across the unending fields of sky, lighting their lanterns to birth the stars.”

         He motioned to a few of his men, waved his arm towards the line. They bent down and lifted his rickety cot. They crossed over. Battle-scarred frontiersmen sobbed as they watched. Little Enrique later recalled, “My heart was in my mouth. My eyes were like coals of fire; but I would stay and listen.” Bowie was a god to him. Now the boy watched the remains of his hero as if he were a fragile, skeletal Christ pulled down from the Cross. Bowie's wandering eyes looked up into eternity, the silver voice of the vaquero in his ears. He saw Ursula wearing a crown of stars. She leaned over him and breathed her love into his lips. He slept.

         “You don't seem to be willing to die with us, Rose.” Crockett and the rest gazed at the one person who had not crossed over. A Frenchman with a heavy gray beard shook his head.

         “No, I am not prepared to die. If I can do anything to avoid it, I shall certainly do so.” 

         Crockett shook his head. “It cain’t be avoided, friend. I’ve been in many’s the tight scrape and escaped with little of my hide left to my name, but this is more’n likely the end. Might as well join up with us and give our executioners what-fer.”

                                Moses Rose contemplates by Gary Zaboly

     Moses Rose shook his head again. He'd been contemplating slipping off for days now. His mind swept over the great vistas of his past – decorated by Napoleon himself for bravery, wading through the blood of Spain and Portugal, tramping into Russia, crawling back over the bodies of friends in one long road of frozen death. He would continue to sell his sword but he’d have no more friends or loyalties or illusions. Yet something had always held him back from fleeing the Alamo thus far. But now Travis had essentially given him permission to leave without slinking off like a snake. 

          “I’ve often done much worse than to climb over that wall.” All the eyes now on him made him sweat. He couldn’t look at them. He wasn’t a coward but nor was he a patriot. This fight was never really his. Travis and his histrionics got on his nerves anyway. What did that young fool know about the crash of massive armies, of the grinding slaughterhouse of war, of picking up random body parts that were once your friend? He surged with a sudden tide of anger against Travis, against all the staring eyes.There was no glory here. He picked up his musket and walked over to the wall. He climbed to the top. He looked back briefly. Everyone still watched in grim silence. Moses Rose crossed over and the new born night swallowed him up.

         Travis sheathed his sword. “God and Texas” he pronounced barely above a whisper. He gaze lingeringly over his compañeros. Then he turned and quickly walked back to his quarters. He sat in the dark alone till Joe stepped in and lit a candle. The young colonel shook himself free of his meditation and reached for his volume of Sir Walter Scott. He meditated on the line - “Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.” The flickering candlelight would burn long into William Barret Travis’ last night upon earth.

         The garrison outside had gone back to their posts or to try their best at getting some sleep. Crockett ambled over to the stunned Mrs. Dickinson. “Well, ma’am, I just wanted to thank you for doing me the kindness of scrubbing my laundry yestertiddy. It was a job well done. Looks as if it were none too soon neither.  I'll be looking proud as a peacock when I meet my maker. But I tell you, ma’am, I think we had better just march out and die in the open air. I don’t like to be hemmed up...”

......“When Santa Anna and Castrillon were planning the assault, Santa Anna declared that none of the Alamo defenders should survive. It was then inevitable that the fort could hold out but little longer, and Castrillon was persuading the commander to spare the lives of the men of the Mexican Army. Santa Anna was holding in his hand the leg of a chicken, which he was eating and, holding it up, he said: “What are the lives of soldiers but so many chickens?”

         - Fernando Urissa, Aide-de-camp to Santa Anna, Texas Almanac, 1859

Some of the non-classical music used this episode... Awesome copyright free pieces by Ross Bugden: Epic Chase Music, Adventure/Western music and The Wasteland. The Gunfight by Everet Almond was also used. Check out all their great work on Youtube!

podcast and article copyright The Texian, 2018

In the Beginning was...THE ALAMO

The earliest known photograph of the Alamo from 1849

Welcome Texas history lovers to the first episode of The Texian! On our first excursion into the action packed annals of Texas history, we sit down with Dr. Stephen L. Hardin, author of Texian Iliad, Texian Macabre and the upcoming Lust for Glory about some of the most famous myths, misconceptions and downright lies associated with the most famous event in all Texas history. Among a few of the Texas notables we talk about today are: William B. Travis, James Bowie, David Crockett and James C. Neill (the forgotten Alamo hero). We delve a bit into their past while laying out the chain of events that lead up to them all being stuck together during that fateful February of 1836.

Here's some links to Dr. Hardin's fantastic books:

                                             Texian Iliad

                                                  Texian Macabre

                                             Lust for Glory


I hope you enjoy what we have in store and stay tuned for Part 2!

Check out this episode!

James Bowie gets the Austin Touch

   

Some of the non-classical music used this episode... Awesome copyright free pieces by Ross Bugden: Epic Chase Music, Adventure Western music and The Wasteland. Red Haired Boy by Edie Murphy was also used along with The Gunfight by Everet Almond. Check out all their great work on Youtube!