while these things were happening at san antonio, the general consultation was in session at san felipe. general austin, appointed special commissioner to the united states, had resigned his position as commander-in-chief of the army two days before the grass fight.
edward burleson, who succeeded to the command, had fought under general jackson in the creek war, and was known throughout texas as a brave and intrepid indian fighter. to him the soldiers now looked confidently for immediate action; and all eyes were turned eagerly toward the citadel over which floated the mexican flag.
the old town beloved of st. denis still hugged the river-bank, buried in evergreen foliage and gay with ever-blooming flowers. the stone and adobe houses, with flat roofs, thick walls, and barred windows, lined the narrow streets which opened out into the military plaza and the old plaza de las islas (now constitution). these plazas had been fortified, and the streets leading into them were barricaded and guarded by cannon. on the east side of the river the fortress of the church of the alamo and its walled enclosure had also been fortified and mounted with artillery.
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general burleson, aware of these fortifications, looked at the citadel and at his little army, and, courageous though he was, he stopped to count the cost. while he was hesitating and his men were openly fretting, three americans escaped from san antonio, where they had been imprisoned, and came into the camp (december 3). their report of the enemy’s condition decided burleson to attack the place at once. the order was given and a plan of assault arranged. the soldiers were jubilant; an activity long unknown pervaded the camp. but into the midst of this cheerful excitement dropped like a bombshell a second order countermanding the first. a scout had disappeared, and it was believed that he had deserted in order to warn cos of the intended attack.
edward burleson.
this reason did not satisfy the soldiers. they were defiant and angry almost to mutiny. their indignation knew no bounds when they were told that the camp was about to be broken and the siege raised. there was a loud clamor of rage and disappointment. during this scene the missing scout returned in company with a deserter from san antonio, who confirmed the report of the weakness of the defenses and the discontent of the mexican garrison. benjamin milam, upon this, had a word or two with general burleson in his tent; then he stepped out, bared his head, and, waving his hat with a loud hurrah, demanded in a ringing voice: “who will go with old ben milam into san antonio?”
three hundred volunteers with an answering shout sprang to the front.
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the same night (december 4) by twos and threes, singly, and in squads, the storming party stole silently into an old mill on the road between the camp and the town. milam, the chief in command, told them off into two divisions: one to be led by himself and the other by colonel frank w. johnson. silent still and like phantoms, the double line took up its march over the intervening ground and slipped into san antonio.
a little earlier, colonel neill had started from camp with a detachment to make a pretended attack on the fortress of the alamo. he opened fire before daylight and continued to hold the enemy’s attention until the assaulting party could enter the town. when the sound of their guns apprised him that this was done, he returned to the camp, where general burleson kept his men under arms, ready to march at any moment to milam’s assistance.
milam and johnson, guided by deaf smith, drew their men swiftly through the dark and silent streets. suddenly a sentinel gave the alarm. a shot from deaf smith’s rifle silenced him forever; and the texans dashed to cover. the mexicans poured out of their quarters and attacked them furiously in the houses of se?ors de la garza and veramendi, where they had taken shelter. they returned the fire with their accustomed coolness, picking off their assailants with unerring aim through loop-holes cut in the thick walls, or from the flat parapeted roofs.
for the next five days the texans were engaged in fighting and burrowing their way steadily toward the military plaza. with cannon booming and scattering grape and canister among them, and the rattle of small arms in their ears, they dug trenches along the streets from corner to corner; they battered down doors; with crowbars and axes they pried openings in walls—fighting the while, now at long range, now in deadly hand-to-hand encounters, and always with defiant smiles on their powder-blackened faces. the weather was wet and cold; the dismal streets were slippery with blood and choked with the débris of battle. above, in the smoky air flapped from the church tower a black flag which meant “no quarter.”
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on the third day milam, leaping from a trench to the entrance of the veramendi courtyard, was killed. a volley of shot spattered holes in the heavy, green, batten door beside him as he fell. the brave chieftain was buried on the spot consecrated by his own blood. colonel johnson was elected leader in his place, and the fighting and burrowing went on. about noon the same day henry karnes stormed alone the only house between de la garza’s and the plaza, and forced an entrance with a crowbar under a heavy fire from the enemy.
henry karnes, the hero of this exploit, was a trapper from the frontier of arkansas. he had a genuine love of indian warfare for its own sake, and in search of it came to texas with the earliest pioneers. when the trumpet call for volunteers was sounded, he enlisted and soon came to be known, with his celebrated friend and companion deaf smith, as one of the best scouts and spies in the army. he had many adventures among the indians. at one time in single combat with an apache chief he was wounded and taken prisoner. his fiery red hair, which the indians supposed to be painted, caused him to be regarded by them as a great medicine man. after his capture they concluded to deprive him of this charm, and, taking him to the nearest stream, they ducked his head under the water to wash the red from his hair. when they found, after nearly drowning him, that the red would not come off, they released him, satisfied that he was a favorite of the great spirit. he held the house he had taken, against the enraged mexicans, until captain york’s company joined him and fortified the position.
“these dogs of texans are hard to beat off,” thought general cos, listening to the crack of their rifles. his crafty face lightened for one moment, for ugartechea came in from the rio grande, and entered the fortress, in spite of the cordon of guards, with five hundred recruits. but such recruits! cos’ face darkened again. they were five hundred convicts chained together two and two, and driven like sheep by their guards.
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on the night of the 8th of december the texans, by a sudden rush and under a hail of hostile bullets, made themselves masters of the priest’s house. the priest’s house was a large, thick-walled building, commanding the military plaza on the north side. the captors at once barricaded the doors and cut loop-holes in the massive walls. a loud cheer carried the news of their success to their comrades outside. “to-morrow!” they shouted joyously.
but the capture of the priest’s house completely demoralized the mexicans. on the morning of the 9th the cannon at the alamo ceased their thunder; the black flag was hauled down from san fernando’s tower and a white one went up in its place.
general burleson entered the city the same day and arranged with general cos the terms of surrender.[20] by these a large quantity of valuable stores, ammunition, artillery, small arms, and clothing remained in the hands of the victors. the mexicans to the number of thirteen hundred, after taking an oath not to fight against texas, were permitted to leave, the officers retaining their arms and private property.
the texan loss in this five days’ fight was two killed and twenty-six wounded; the enemy lost about one hundred and fifty.
general burleson placed a small garrison in the fortress of the alamo. the camp was raised, and many of the texan volunteers scattered to their own homes and firesides, rejoicing in the fact that not a mexican soldier remained to tread the soil of texas.
