In another missive, Sesma summarized the exact tactical sequence that caused this sizeable flight of defenders: “When the fire began and the enemy was dislodged from their first line of fortifications [the north wall] many of them had believed that they could find a place of safety by leaving the fort on the right [and] Indeed, a sufficient number of them came forth that [they] ran in an organized manner towards the unobstructed flatland . . . ” Hardly believing his eyes, Sergeant Manuel Loranca, of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment, stationed around the Alameda, never forgot the sight with the dawn’s first light that revealed from the environs around the Alamo, now shrouded in a rising cloud of sulphurous battle smoke, how some “Sixty-two Texians [had] sallied from the east side of the fort . . . .” 34
Moving quickly to save themselves in the half-light before the sun inched higher over the eastern horizon to more fully reveal their desperate flight, the immediate objective of this “organized” escape attempt was the relatively high, open ground of the Alameda and the Gonzales Road. Simple survival now depended upon the men reaching the Alameda to the southeast. Here, the alluring sight of the picturesque twin rows of cottonwood trees—like an oasis on the prairie in the halflight—was now barely illuminated. 35
These Texas men and United States volunteers very likely were also making an attempt to reach the high ground to make a defensive stand on this natural perch that dominated the lower-lying Alamo. Here, from good cover provided by the cottonwood trees, they could at least defend themselves and fight Indian-style. After all, throughout the siege, some Alamo defenders had wanted to escape the Alamo to fight in the open. The diminutive, red-haired jockey, Henry Warnell, a 24-year-old artilleryman of Captain Carey’s “Invincibles,” who either deserted his cannon or never reached it in the first place that morning, was very likely one of these escapees. A sharp horse trader from Arkansas who had settled in Bastrop, Texas, he had earlier expressed a common sentiment among garrison members by saying, “I’d much rather be out in that open prairie [as] I don’t like to be penned in like this.” 36
Well known as much for his love of chewing tobacco as riding horses, Warnell was one of the few fortunate defenders destined to survive not only the fighting, but also the flight from the Alamo. It is not known which group of escapees he departed with on this bloody morning. Or perhaps he went out individually on his own without being seen, slipping by Mexican cavalrymen. But the best chance for him to have escaped the death-trap was with the first group that dashed from the palisade, because the Mexicans would be better prepared for later escape attempts in more daylight. In addition, and contrary to the mythical story that he “deserted” the garrison before the assault, Rose also very likely “would have been among those that ran,” especially the 62 soldiers who had suddenly emerged from the palisade’s sally port. 37
The flight of this largest group of garrison members—more than a third of the garrison—was very likely as much a maneuver to reposition themselves to gain some slight tactical advantage to defend themselves as it was a bid for eventual freedom to escape down the Gonzales Road. This possibility was indicated by the relative discipline of those marching out from the palisade. Amazingly, from the beginning and thereafter, this escape attempt was not a wild flight but the departure of an “organized” force of garrison members, who were fully prepared to do more fighting but in a new place, preferably high ground, of their own choosing. And because a Mexican encampment, now vacated with the general attack well underway, was nearby, perhaps this large group of men, now low of ammunition, desired to capture the Matamoros Battalion’s camp in the Alameda area to secure black powder. 38
Of course, no one knows how much, if any, ammunition the soldiers of this formation yet possessed. Throughout the siege, black powder supplies were low, and by March 6 the amount was far lower, resulting in a “scarcity of ammunition.” To secure additional ammunition, therefore, black powder rather than shot, was a top priority by this time. Even killing Mexican soldiers met along the way would have meant gaining black powder from their cartridge boxes.
Additionally a Mexican artillery emplacement had been seen earlier in the Alameda area. This position might have been targeted for capture because these men, especially if nearly out of ammunition, knew that black powder would have been available for the guns. Hence, this artillery emplacement might have been deliberately targeted by this first group of escapees, who “ran in an organized manner,” and seemingly with purpose beyond that of escape, from the Alamo. 39
In addition, freshly dug trenches were now located in the area in and around the Alameda. These had been dug by the Matamoros Battalion’s soldados to protect their encampment during the siege, and in case the Alamo garrison attempted to reach the Gonzales Road. For thirteen days of siege, the defenders had viewed these earthworks being dug by Mexican troops, who were just out of lethal killing range of even the Long Rifle. These light works up ahead were now empty, with the Matamoros Battalion in action. However, even as the morning’s first light descended upon the land and with visibility yet low, especially on the lower ground near the church’s rear, the escapees failed to realize that Santa Anna’s cavalrymen were in position up ahead. Not even the brightly colored banderolas, or the pennons, of the Vera Cruz lancers could yet be seen.
With either Captain Baugh or another leading officer, perhaps even Crockett or Travis himself, leading the way, these 62 men not only escaped a death-trap but also now gained an opportunity—denied those inside the Alamo—to fight a defensive battle from cottonwood trees and trenches on ground, if gained, that commanded a wide area. Open prairie land below the Alameda offered attackers little, if any, cover, and was part of “the unobstructed flatland,” in General Sesma’s words.
Perhaps if a defensive stand could be made at the Alameda, and they could hold out on the high ground along the Gonzales Road, then they could buy time to eventually escape that night across the rolling prairie lands leading from San Antonio to Gonzales. But before reaching the Alameda to the southeast, the 62 men first had to cross around 300 yards of mostly open terrain to gain the western edge of the Alameda, its closest point. The only natural vegetation was underbrush and little, snarled mesquite trees and small cottonwood saplings that thrived in low-lying areas near water, in this case the deeply gorged aqueduct, or irrigation ditch, that ran roughly north-south along the Alamo’s eastern perimeter and perpendicular to its southern perimeter. This lengthy ditch—ironically part of the same irrigation network by which Colonel Morales’ column had advanced westward undetected to strike the Alamo’s southwest corner—flowed from the Alamo church’s rear to nearly the Alameda’s western end before crossing the Gonzales Road. General Sesma described the area around the irrigation ditch as “bushy and craggy ground” that was distinctive because the other surroundings were either open prairie or old cornfields without trees or underbrush.
Previous Alamo messengers, such as Missourian John W. Smith, age 44 and from the river town of Hannibal (birthplace of Mark Twain) on the Mississippi, and 28-year-old, Rhode Island-born Captain Albert Martin of Gonzales, had only escaped Santa Anna’s vigilant cavalry by first taking shelter in this irrigation ditch, slipping away undetected to reach the Alameda and the Gonzales Road. Since the siege’s beginning, the entire garrison was well aware of the Alamo’s best and most reliable escape route, which now could serve as shelter if the men were suddenly attacked on the open prairie. Indeed, this convenient ditch had served as the Alamo’s primary entry and exit point throughout the siege. Both then and now, only one simple formula for escape remained, and it was simply to generally follow “the irrigation ditch [and] then left, onto the Gonzales road.” 40
Even many years later but blessed with a keen memory, Tejano Enrique Esparza recalled, “There was a ditch of running water back of the church.” 41Generating a steady flow of brackish water from the San Antonio River, these old aqueducts had been dug by the Spanish as early as 1718, when the mission was founded, and irrigated the fields suff
iciently to provide food in this dry region. 42
Perhaps the shelter of the irrigation ditch had been part of the original plan of escape. However, this ditch had definitely become an ideal escape avenue because of two developments that occurred almost simultaneously: first, the sun had risen higher, and second, more important, now was positioned “on the east, a squadron of lancers, flanked by a ditch, to cut off the retreat at the time of the assault,” in the words of Sergeant Manuel Loranca of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment, who was stationed at the Alameda. Alerted to the lengthy line of lancers up ahead after the foremost soldiers of the escape column had crossed the little log foot-bridge over the irrigation ditch, these men naturally took full advantage of the position. The irrigation ditch provided good cover, thanks to the natural vegetation growing thickly alongside and because it was deeply gorged at a level of several feet or more. Best of all for the 62 men who had slipped out of the Alamo, this ditch led straight south toward the Alameda. Here, only a relatively short distance southeast of the timbered palisade, this sheltered avenue and natural ingress point, half-hidden by tangles of underbrush, offered the only shelter and place of concealment on the open prairie.
But this stealthy maneuver of pushing through the screen of brush by way of the aqueduct in an attempt to eventually gain the Alameda’s high ground did not go unnoticed by Santa Anna’s leading cavalryman. Thanks to his vantage point at the Alameda, General Sesma viewed the fast-moving drama being played out below him. He wrote how these 62 men, after having marched out of the compound and into the open now sought concealment in the saplings and underbrush lining the irrigation ditch, attempting “to take advantage of the nearby branal [sic]” in the half-light. 43 (As used by General Sesma in this context, the Spanish word “brenal” meant ground that was overgrown with weeds, saplings, and underbrush.)
Pushing ever farther south and away from the palisade under the cover of the brushy, muddy aqueduct after nearly two weeks of siege, these 62 men must have initially felt a new lease on life. After all, they had escaped a death-trap and an inevitable massacre. Even now, those comrades left behind in the Alamo’s dark recesses, the Long Barracks, hospital, church, and other buildings, were in the process of being slaughtered to the last man.
With the first rays of dawn lightening the eastern horizon that allowed them to be seen by General Sesma, the escapees hoped that by moving away—south instead of southeast—from the squadron of Vera Cruz Lancers with whom they had first exchanged shots, they could yet escape. In and around the aqueduct’s shelter they moved steadily south in the hazy half-light, hoping to reach the Alameda. Even more in their desperate situation, any officers with this party would have attempted to keep everyone together in a tight group. After all, an organized formation would be needed to reach the Alameda in strength, because a clash was all but inevitable, after they had earlier sparred with the foremost members of the veteran lancer squadron.
At this time, these men might have planned to emerge from the aqueduct’s cover at some point just below the western end of the Alameda, around 300 yards from the Alamo. But it was already too late for a successful escape. At some point and for whatever reason, perhaps encountering either deeper water in the irrigation ditch or no longer concealed by its natural vegetation, the 62 men emerged from the area of the ditch and made a dash across open ground. In response, the evervigilant General Sesma now took decisive action after sighting the escapees emerge out in “the plains.” The luck of these Alamo defenders had now come to an abrupt end. 44
With their quarry flushed from the Alamo’s dark confines as if a Godsend from a smiling, all-knowing Lady of Guadalupe, General Sesma and his elite cavalrymen were ready and waiting—as Santa Anna had foreseen—for the first group of escapees when they suddenly burst into the open like a covey of quail. General Sesma was a hardened professional and a martinet. Always wanting to improve his soldier’s effectiveness, this serious-minded cavalry commander had petitioned authorities in Mexico City to eliminate the time-honored practice of allowing women camp followers, who reduced the army’s mobility and speed. With little compassion for either these women or children, and far less for the northamericano rebels, Sesma wanted to uphold the service’s professionalism. This natural cavalryman, like Santa Anna, was now presented with a golden opportunity to wipe out a large percentage of the Alamo garrison on the open ground outside the walls.
Leaping at the opportunity, General Sesma could hardly wait to give the fateful order for his most trusty cavalrymen to advance to entrap the escapees, who continued to push farther from the Alamo’s walls. Indeed, after first catching sight of the daring escape attempt when they emerged from the aqueduct area into the open, General Sesma took immediate action. In his words: “As soon as I observed this, I sent a company from the [Cavalry] Regiment of Dolores with my assistants like lieutenant colonel Don Juan Herrera, captain Cayetano Montero, the Superior Lieutenant from Dolores the lieutenant colonel Don Juan Palacios, the second lieutenant Don Jose Maria Medrano so that they would harass the enemy from the sides of the branal [sic].” 45
Here, as General Sesma realized, was a rare opportunity for the elite Mexican cavalry and lancers to win laurels before Santa Anna’s very eyes. Now the Mexican infantrymen, who were busy slaughtering the defenders inside the compound, would not be the only ones to cover themselves with glory on March 6. The intense, but natural, inter-service rivalry between the regular infantry and cavalry only further motivated the horsemen of the Dolores Cavalry and the Tampico Lancers and Cavalry Regiment of Vera Cruz, all crack permanente units. They were determined to uphold not only individual but unit and national pride at the expense of those who had escaped.
Like the rest of Santa Anna’s Army of Operations, vengeance was very much on the minds of these elite Vera Cruz lancers on this late winter morning, in part because five of their lancer comrades, good men like Juan Manuel Maldonado and Juan Nepomuceno Tello, had been killed in the late 1835 siege of San Antonio. Because the Vera Cruz lancers were Santa Anna’s favorite horsemen, the Dolores Cavalry Regiment, even though its members served as his personal guard and escort, and the Tampico Lancers would rise to the occasion this morning. Indeed, born and raised in the gulf port city, Santa Anna yet considered himself more of a Veracruzano than a member of Mexico City’s aristocracy, and identified with these hard-fighting lancers from his own hometown.
Especially after having just missed the opportunity to capture the entire Alamo garrison in the late February strike foiled by a combination of the Medina River’s swollen waters and later by Santa Anna’s own miscalculations, these battle-hardened Mexican cavalrymen lusted for this opportunity to demonstrate their worth, especially before their commander-in-chief. Consequently, they were now most enthusiastic about a chance to steal away the laurels now being garnered by the Mexican infantrymen in exterminating the last holed-up survivors inside the Alamo’s embattled buildings.
Long considered Mexico’s most elite troops, General Sesma’s men of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment were highly motivated. Here was an opportunity for them to live up to the inspirational legacy of Father Hidalgo, striking a blow as the Mexican Revolution’s protectors and inheritors of the revolutionary warcry, “Viva Mexico,” and “Viva la Virgen de Guadalupe.” Now consisting of 290 horsemen in shiny helmets and ornate breastplates, the Dolores Cavalry had been named in honor of the birthplace of Father Hidalgo’s September 1810 revolt, the tiny village of Dolores, where the bells of the parish church had first rallied Indian and mestizo revolutionaries. Here, this fiery parish priest first raised the call for equality and freedom for the downtrodden peasants to rise up against their Spanish masters. Hidalgo’s revolutionary spark began the resistance movement that culminated in Mexico’s independence from Spain. 46
Ironically, because it was not yet full light and visibility was low, escaping garrison members had not initially realized that they were heading toward the teeth of the dragoon. Unknown to the 62 escapees, the Alameda’s high g
round now served as the mobile command post of General Sesma and his cavalry and lancers. As a cruel fate would have it, the escapees now pushed not toward safety and freedom, as they believed, but toward a cavalry strongpoint and a rendezvous with disaster. Unfortunately, these fleeing men were about to encounter the finest troops in all Mexico.
Santa Anna, fully exploiting his best asset, had circled the entire Alamo with a screen of cavalrymen, including the much-feared lancers. Dressed in blue riding pants with red stripes and wearing black leather helmets decorated with lengthy, dark-colored horse-hair plumes that hung down their backs, the lancers at the Alameda were ready for action. What most distinguished them as a lethal killing machine, especially on the open ground, was the seven-foot-long lance. A deadly instrument of war, the lengthy wooden shaft carried by the crack Vera Cruz, Tampico, and Dolores lancers was topped by an iron, arrowshaped spear point. Even more, the escaping garrison members never imagined that the number of Santa Anna’s lancers, around 400 welltrained men, was more than double the entire Alamo garrison. Therefore, the flight that these escapees believed would take them to safety was about to lead them into a living nightmare instead.
General Sesma had chosen the perfect moment to unleash his lancers, who now moved in for the kill, sweeping ever closer to their victims. He had allowed the escapees to advance sufficiently far from the Alamo’s walls to preclude any possibility of a flight back to the compound. Like Santa Anna, Sesma wanted to destroy these men in the open, eliminating every revolutionary who had defied Mexico. 47
Exodus From the Alamo: The Anatomy of the Last Stand Myth Page 38