Free The Blood of Heroes: The 13-Day Struggle for the Alamo--and the Sacrifice That Forged a Nation by James Donovan
Authors: James Donovan
received four choice leagues of land.)
Most of the three hundred men were landowning farmers, with a few merchants and mechanics, as skilled craftsmen were called, mixed in. A handful of them owned slaves; the rest were too poor for such luxuries. The majority of them had wives and families at home. Few of them had professional military training, but many had served with small militia units against Indians or in earlier skirmishes against Mexican garrisons. Not every man had a gun—and some of their weapons were held together with “buckskin string and spit,” remembered one volunteer—but those who did were proficient with them, whether they carried a Kentucky long rifle accurate at more than two hundred yards, less accurate but sturdy muskets, or short-barreled shotguns for close action. Some carried flintlock pistols, and almost every man wore a large knife in a sheath attached to his belt. A leather shot pouch suspended by a broad strap that went over the shoulder held rifle balls, bullet molds, “bullet patchin’,” gun wipes, and an extra flint or two; attached to this pouch was a powder horn.
The group bore little resemblance to an army—at least not to “the army of my childhood dreams,” remembered Noah Smithwick, a blacksmith. “Buckskin breeches were the nearest approach to a uniform, and there was wide diversity even there, some being new and soft and yellow, while others, from long familiarity with rain and grease and dirt, had become hard and black and shiny…. Boots being an unknown quantity, some wore shoes and some moccasins.” Some sported broad-brimmed sombreros, others military headgear or top hats, or the occasional coonskin cap with the tail hanging down behind. Most wore hunting shirts or jackets with homespun blouses underneath, though an occasional buffalo robe could be seen. They rode large American horses and small Spanish ponies, half-broke mustangs and methodical mules. Few had canteens; most carried a Spanish gourd or two full of water.
DeWitt’s colony had contributed more than its share of personnel: left behind were only a dozen men, most of them invalids, and hundreds of women and children. Altogether, Austin’s Army of the People was a disparate and rowdy lot, with only one thing in common, at least as they saw it: the desire and willingness to fight for their freedom from a tyrant’s oppression. Their chance would not be long in coming.
FIVE
The Army of the People
All are united, our frontier is attacked & who says now that we shall not fight? Let us go at it heart & hand—stand up like men & have nothing to fear.
W ILLIAM B ARRET T RAVIS
T he rebels followed Byrd Lockhart’s blazed trail westward. Through the forests, large trees bore carved numerals denoting the number of miles from Béxar, and wooden posts did the same on the prairie, where the men kept an especially close watch—no one wanted to get caught in the open by the Mexican lancers, whose reputation as well-trained warriors preceded them.
The Texians were an army of irregular riflemen, and it was to their advantage to keep to the woods. About fifteen miles west of Gonzales they camped on Sandies Creek, near John Castleman’s place, the farthest outpost of Anglo settlement. The desolate location required constant vigilance against roving Indian parties, and each evening Castleman’s family retreated into their house, enclosed by strong palisades. A cold rain rendered the army’s bivouac highly uncomfortable, since few men had brought tents or shelters.
Another day or two through miles of sandy soil and forests of mesquite and oak brought the army to Cibolo Creek, twenty miles from the provincial capital. The steadily flowing waters, combined with a shallow ford at a bend where the road crossed the creek, made it a popular paraje, or resting stop. They remained there a few days while more reinforcements arrived, then moved to the Salado River, just three or four miles from Béxar. Overhead,
Most of the three hundred men were landowning farmers, with a few merchants and mechanics, as skilled craftsmen were called, mixed in. A handful of them owned slaves; the rest were too poor for such luxuries. The majority of them had wives and families at home. Few of them had professional military training, but many had served with small militia units against Indians or in earlier skirmishes against Mexican garrisons. Not every man had a gun—and some of their weapons were held together with “buckskin string and spit,” remembered one volunteer—but those who did were proficient with them, whether they carried a Kentucky long rifle accurate at more than two hundred yards, less accurate but sturdy muskets, or short-barreled shotguns for close action. Some carried flintlock pistols, and almost every man wore a large knife in a sheath attached to his belt. A leather shot pouch suspended by a broad strap that went over the shoulder held rifle balls, bullet molds, “bullet patchin’,” gun wipes, and an extra flint or two; attached to this pouch was a powder horn.
The group bore little resemblance to an army—at least not to “the army of my childhood dreams,” remembered Noah Smithwick, a blacksmith. “Buckskin breeches were the nearest approach to a uniform, and there was wide diversity even there, some being new and soft and yellow, while others, from long familiarity with rain and grease and dirt, had become hard and black and shiny…. Boots being an unknown quantity, some wore shoes and some moccasins.” Some sported broad-brimmed sombreros, others military headgear or top hats, or the occasional coonskin cap with the tail hanging down behind. Most wore hunting shirts or jackets with homespun blouses underneath, though an occasional buffalo robe could be seen. They rode large American horses and small Spanish ponies, half-broke mustangs and methodical mules. Few had canteens; most carried a Spanish gourd or two full of water.
DeWitt’s colony had contributed more than its share of personnel: left behind were only a dozen men, most of them invalids, and hundreds of women and children. Altogether, Austin’s Army of the People was a disparate and rowdy lot, with only one thing in common, at least as they saw it: the desire and willingness to fight for their freedom from a tyrant’s oppression. Their chance would not be long in coming.
FIVE
The Army of the People
All are united, our frontier is attacked & who says now that we shall not fight? Let us go at it heart & hand—stand up like men & have nothing to fear.
W ILLIAM B ARRET T RAVIS
T he rebels followed Byrd Lockhart’s blazed trail westward. Through the forests, large trees bore carved numerals denoting the number of miles from Béxar, and wooden posts did the same on the prairie, where the men kept an especially close watch—no one wanted to get caught in the open by the Mexican lancers, whose reputation as well-trained warriors preceded them.
The Texians were an army of irregular riflemen, and it was to their advantage to keep to the woods. About fifteen miles west of Gonzales they camped on Sandies Creek, near John Castleman’s place, the farthest outpost of Anglo settlement. The desolate location required constant vigilance against roving Indian parties, and each evening Castleman’s family retreated into their house, enclosed by strong palisades. A cold rain rendered the army’s bivouac highly uncomfortable, since few men had brought tents or shelters.
Another day or two through miles of sandy soil and forests of mesquite and oak brought the army to Cibolo Creek, twenty miles from the provincial capital. The steadily flowing waters, combined with a shallow ford at a bend where the road crossed the creek, made it a popular paraje, or resting stop. They remained there a few days while more reinforcements arrived, then moved to the Salado River, just three or four miles from Béxar. Overhead,
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