Exodus From the Alamo: The Anatomy of the Last Stand Myth

by Phillip Thomas Tucker

  Even worse, the Mexican cannonade during the siege had conditioned the men to enjoy the comforting shelter of the Long Barracks and other buildings to escape the shelling.When the bombardment ceased on the previous afternoon, Travis had failed to make the necessary tactical adjustments to adapt to the changed situation. Perhaps the more experienced Bowie, had he not been sick, might have been sufficiently savvy to take such defensive precautions. Santa Anna, thanks to Tejano collaborators who had seemed to know almost everything about what was transpiring inside the Alamo, was aware that the garrison’s riflemen slept in the Long Barracks and other insulated—and hence quiet—quarters, with thick abode and limestone walls that made them nearly soundproof. And he knew that these quarters were located a good distance from the principal tactical target, the weakened north wall.

  And few, if any, Alamo artillerymen rested at night beside their guns, while the riflemen slept in the barracks and other abode buildings, once so effective in stopping Apache and Comanche arrows. Therefore, when the Mexicans reached the north wall, began climbing their ladders, and even going over the top in the dark, they were not initially met by any massed or concentrated volleys of rifle-fire, because of the absence of both aroused defenders and the lack of firing positions— parapets, catwalks, portholes, or firing platforms—along the walls. For instance, even though a relatively short makeshift firing platform existed along the north wall, the lack of firing embrasures for riflemen meant that they would be exposed when rising up to fire. For the defenders, even if they reached their assigned places in time, the best firing positions were almost exclusively on building rooftops, a good distance from the north wall, at various points along the perimeter.

  Almost before anyone among the comatose garrison realized it, the quickness of the Mexicans reaching the walls meant that almost all of the Alamo’s artillery remained unmanned and silent for some time, because the gunners, if roused at all, had no time to race north from the artillery barracks and across the plaza. In addition, even if manned, the pieces could not be sufficiently depressed once the Mexicans had reached the north wall. After all, these guns had been mounted to meet daytime attacks with long-range fire. This disadvantageous situation made the majority of the Alamo’s cannon almost useless when they were needed the most. Some historians have at least acknowledged that the Long Rifle had been largely negated, but not the majority of the Alamo’s cannon at the attack’s beginning.

  Although the real battle had not yet actually begun, already it was too late for the diminutive band of garrison members to do anything but die. Travis’ slave Joe described how the fight was already over once hundreds of Santa Anna’s finest troops already gained the north wall, “before the Garrison [offered] resistance.” 19

  Meanwhile, the 33-year-old Captain Baugh raced westward across the wide expanse of the pitch-black plaza—in what must have seemed like an eternity for the Virginian—to reach Travis’ small room in a building near the center of the west wall. In desperation, an out-ofbreath Baugh opened the wooden door of the Alamo commander’s room and yelled, “Colonel Travis! The Mexicans are coming!” 20

  This startling pronouncement by the former New Orleans Greys’ member, who had helped capture the Alamo only last December, might well have been one of the greatest understatements in Texas history. 21 Of course, the captain’s frantic words gave no hint of the no-win tactical situation. Indeed, by this time, the Mexicans were not only “coming” in force, they had already arrived at the north wall in overpowering numbers. When Captain Baugh reached Travis’ room, the foremost troops of Dúque’s column might well have already been over the wall and inside the fort. 22

  Even Kentucky-born Drum Major Joseph G. Washington, age 28, did not have time to beat his drum in a belated attempt to awake and rally the yet comatose garrison. 23 Captain Baugh’s frantic words that awoke Travis were yelled before a single blast from one of the Alamo’s cannon that would have roused the Alamo’s commander and his men. But worst of all in the confused chaos that was fast descending on the old Spanish mission compound, neither Captain Baugh nor anyone else in the Alamo realized that the greatest Mexican effort to scale the walls was concentrated on the north wall. Therefore, in part because his headquarters room was located in an abode building at the center of the west wall and the Long Barracks was on the other side of the cavernous plaza yet draped in blackness, Travis would be unable to galvanize a solid defense at the most critical point, the north wall, because it was already too late to do so. Indeed, very likely few garrison members, including Travis, expected an attack on the north wall, which had been endlessly strengthened before Santa Anna’s eyes, because the weakest sector—the palisade and the main gate—were located on the compound’s opposite side, the south.

  Long accepted by historians, traditional accounts of the battle have Travis gallantly rallying the Alamo garrison, with almost everyone rushing forth to defend the north wall to meet the attackers with fierce resistence, even repulsing not one but two attacks in that sector. But with the garrison fast asleep and with a high percentage of it either sick or injured in the hospital, this scenario of the mythical Alamo—where the garrison possessed plenty of time to rally and mount an organized defense along every wall—was simply not the case. Such a situation would have been impossible under the disadvantageous circumstance of being caught so completely by surprise. However, the mythology of the tenacious defense of the north wall provided the dramatic stage for the heroic death of Travis in defying the odds, while providing “evidence” of defenders inflicting a large number of casualties. But this traditional version is mere fantasy, as no Mexican attacks were repulsed because of defender fire, either from artillery or musketry that morning. General Filisola described, in regard to any defenders who might have reached the north wall, that they could not “use their rifles, thus because the parapet did not have a banquette on the inner-side.” 24

  Joe’s account was the first to have Travis meeting his death at the north wall, and this has been relied upon by many historians. Indicative of the attackers having penetrated farther than generally recognized, another version has it that “Travis fell on a stairway he was holding against a surging mob of Mexicans, shot through the head . . .” This well might have been the case, given the complete surprise of the attack and the Mexicans’ rapid advance that had them penetrating the Alamo before the garrison was aroused. And Mexican Sergeant Francisco Becerra reported having found Travis inside a room of a building either at the low barracks or near the south wall. In another account, as a sharp rebuttal to what he considered the defamation of his Alamo heroes, Reuben M. Potter was perhaps the first, in 1860, to emphasize in his The Fall of the Alamo pamphlet—considered definitive by historians for generations—that Travis and Crockett were killed “early on the outworks,” or north wall, expressly to dispel the circulating story and mounting evidence of Crockett’s surrender and execution after the fight. 25

  In truth, it was not the defenders’ tenacity along the north wall which held the Mexicans at bay according to the mythical Alamo, but ironically the attackers themselves. The first cannon shot of the day erupted from the alerted cannoneers at the elevated gun platform at the back of the church, sending Romero’s column veering away toward the north wall, where no cannon roared. During the confused darkness in surging toward the Alamo’s northwest corner, Cós’ left flank had been hit by the fire of Toluca Battalion soldados of Dúque’s column. Considerable disorder resulted when three separate assault formations suddenly collided in the darkness at the Alamo’s northern perimeter. This accidental uniting of Dúque’s, Cós’, and Romero’s columns formed a solid mass of hundreds of Mexican troops at the north wall’s base. And additional Mexican troops in the rear crowded those in front, cramming and jamming the ranks together in a milling throng. At this point, separate unit organization was lost and the attacking columns became a mob in the dark.

  Santa Anna had ordered too few ladders. This confused situation caused a delay among the
attackers, though not from defenders’ fire. Return fire was virtually non-existent, so swift had been the advance. Initially, the north wall cannon remained quiet, and would have been ineffective even if gunners had reached them, because the three cannon could not be depressed sufficiently to hit the Mexicans since they were at the wall’s base.

  All the while, hundreds of Dúque’s, Romero’s, and Cós’ troops clamored under the walls, in relative safety, not only because most of the garrison was not yet aroused but because the cannon could not be depressed. Officers, like José Mariano Salas, born in 1797 and second in command of Romero’s column, attempted to sort out the confusion and restore order, but in vain amid the tumult and darkness. And by now, though defenders’ resistance remained disastrously weak, isolated shots fired into the throng by the first few Anglo-Celtic riflemen to reach the north wall couldn’t help but find flesh. 26

  Disorder among the Mexican ranks resulted in a “confused mass,” wrote de la Pena, from the merger of three columns of attackers smashing together from multiple directions. Making up for the lack of ladders, the outer work’s ad hoc construction, unevenness, and incompleteness allowed for some soldados, using their own initiative, to climb up the wall. With muskets slung over shoulders, newly arriving Mexicans scaled the wall by grabbing holes in the outer-work or the end of protruding wooden beams that had not been sawed off.

  “Misled by the difficulties encountered in the climbing of the walls” and the mashing together of multiple columns and from losses incurred by more friendly fire than defender fire, in de la Pena’s words, Santa Anna, in the pitch darkness, could not ascertain what was really going on. 27

  Therefore, Santa Anna prepared to order in his crack reserves, the Sapper, or Zapadores, Battalion, which was attached to his personal headquarters. Today known as combat engineers who were among the army’s most specialized, versatile troops, these were the army’s crack reserves. And Santa Anna now utilized them as Napoleon employed his famed Old Guard, or the Imperial Guard, which served as a “shock reserve” to administer a coup-de-grace at the critical moment. But these troops were not as much engineers in the true sense as elite light infantrymen. With Napoleon’s legacy in mind, Santa Anna had omitted nothing in his meticulous planning of the assault. Therefore, he had placed his reserves, both the Zapadores Battalion and nearly half a dozen companies of light troops, behind Dúque’s column, facing the north wall. However, he was premature in now unleashing his reserve, under the command of Colonel Agustín Amat, before the battle had hardly begun. 28

  Nevertheless, these reliable sappers were among the army’s best troops, earning Santa Anna’s praise and confidence. They were men of character, who would later refuse to execute Alamo captives despite Santa Anna’s personal command. One reliable young Creole officer of this hard-hitting force was Lieutenant Colonel de la Pena, who had been assigned to the Sapper Battalion on February 13. However, he now served in Dúque’s column, having rushed forth with the first wave of attackers.

  Indicating its high quality, another fine Sapper Battalion officer was Don José María Heredia. A “well-beloved” and “amiable youth,” Lieutenant Heredia was haunted by the portent that he would meet his Maker in Texas, “never seeing his family again.” He was correct in his apprehensions. Nevertheless, this young officer would lead his platoon during the assault. Ironically, Lieutenant Heredia was destined to receive a military funeral on his birthday, after suffering a mortal wound at the Alamo.

  Like a gambler playing his highest hand, Santa Anna also had held five grenadier companies from the Matamoros, Toluca, Jimenez, San Luís Potosí, and Aldama Battalions in reserve with the Sapper Battalion, which was the real strategic reserve at the Alamo: a combined reserve force of around 400 soldiers, or more than one-fourth the size of the original attack force. The 200 men and officers of the Zapadores Battalion and the other 200 grenadiers prepared to attack. Both grenadiers and sappers of the reserves were determined to prove themselves this morning.

  Born in 1790 in Spain and shielded by the darkness, Colonel Romulo Diaz de la Vega rode to the Sapper Battalion with Santa Anna’s orders. Along with the five companies of Grenadiers, he then ordered it toward the north wall as directed by the commander-in-chief. Sapper Battalion buglers María Gonzáles and Tamayo blew their brass instruments, and the finely uniformed sappers snapped to attention. Then, on the double, these crack Zapadores rushed forward with high spirits and fixed bayonets.

  Some inexperienced men, most likely untrained youths, faltered, but officers, like Lieutenant Heredia rose to the fore. “Urging on the platoon he commanded at times scolding with sword in hand the soldier who showed little courage as the Sapper Battalion advanced” upon the north wall. Soon thereafter, Santa Anna also dispatched his final reserve: his own 50-man general staff, which included well-educated, debonair officers like aide-de-camp Manuel Fernández Castrillón, who was fated to die not at the Alamo but at San Jacinto, Ricardo Dromundo as Purveyor, and José Reyes y Lopez as CommissaryGeneral. Contrary to traditional accounts, these attacking reserves, high-spirited and overeager, made the most noise this morning, with bugle calls and shouts and cheering, as opposed to Dúque’s attackers. 29

  But despite confusion and fratricide among the Mexicans at the north wall, it was already much too late for the Alamo garrison to mount any kind of organized, or solid defense of that sector. Large numbers of Mexican troops continued to reach the wall and surge up ladders or scale it by hand like a raging flood in the darkness, before the riflemen in the Long Barracks close to the southern perimeter could rally and rush forth to defend it with muskets and shotguns. 30

  Reacting on instinct, Colonel Travis grabbed his double-barreled shotgun, loaded with buckshot, and raced from his room into the plaza’s darkness. This traditional hunting weapon, especially for winged game like quail or prairie chickens on the grassy prairie of Texas, could prove far more effective than the legendary, small-caliber Long Rifle. In the noisy confusion, it was impossible for Travis—half-asleep and very likely stunned beyond belief by how developments had so quickly swirled out of control—to gauge the exact tactical situation, or to get any real sense of what was occurring, especially on the far perimeter.

  Numbed by the noise and the shock of having been caught so thoroughly by surprise, Travis sprinted across the wide, lonely expanse of the plaza, yet bathed in blackness, to reach the north battery. He attempted to rally some men who were nearby with a shout to encourage them, “Come on, Boys, the Mexicans are upon us and we’ll give them hell.” 31 But Travis’ belated effort to rally a defense was largely ineffective except for a handful of solders—simply a case of too little, too late. Relatively few men followed Travis into the chaos swirling around the north wall. After all, while Travis raced toward the breakthrough, most men were yet arousing themselves from sleep and attempting to find gear and accouterments to strap on in the pitch-darkness of the Long Barracks and other nearly soundproof buildings. 32

  Some evidence has indicated that a number of soldiers, and evidently a larger group than previously thought—heresy to the mythical Alamo—deliberately remained in the Long Barracks and other buildings either out of fear or because of never receiving orders of any kind. Doing something that was entirely understandable under the circumstances, they apparently decided not to follow the lead of Travis’ or other officers like Baugh, if they could at all be heard in the confusion, to defend the walls, as if they already knew it was too late to mount a successful defense.

  Understandably shocked by the surprise attack, some defenders remained in bed or hid in a place of concealment, knowing an ugly ending for them was now inevitable. An exception was Gregorio Esparza, a Tejano artilleryman from San Antonio, who rushed from his sleeping quarters in the artillery barracks—indicating that cannoneers were not positioned beside their guns—and into the plaza’s darkness never to return. But other garrison members resisted orders to go forward, as if knowing that they would soon meet a gruesome fate. Indeed, Travi
s’ men were horrified to hear the panicked cry that the Mexican “soldiers [had already] jumped the wall.” Two Alamo defenders near Esparza’s young son, Enrique, were Brigidio Guerrero and an “American boy [who remained] wrapped in a blanket in one corner” of the room, simply refused to budge and participate in the Alamo’s defense. Clearly, the shock of the surprise attack caused paralysis, which was entirely justified under such chaotic conditions. 33

  Just awakened to a surreal nightmare so far from his native Tennessee, Captain Dickinson also realized the end had come for the garrison even before it had a chance to fight back. Shell-shocked by the Mexican onslaught, he informed Susanna of the situation: “My dear wife, they are coming over the wall, we are all lost!” 34

  Of course, no one knows the exact number of soldiers who rushed forth into the darkened plaza with Travis. But almost certainly, relatively few garrison members, either artillerymen or riflemen, awoke from their deep sleep in time to rush forward to defend the north wall. Therefore, Travis very likely thought he was leading more men forward to defend the position than was actually the case. So belated was his attempt to rally a defense that Travis might have even unknowingly passed by the foremost Mexican soldiers, who had already surmounted the wall to penetrate into the sprawling plaza.

  To many men it very likely made little sense to rush the lengthy distance of more than half the plaza’s length in a futile attempt to reach the north wall. After all, by this time, nothing could stop the raging Mexican tide, and it was too late to rally the garrison into an organized defense, especially after word was passed that some of Santa Anna’s troops had already come over the wall. 35