The fact that some Americans were armed with Kentucky Long Rifles now worked to their disadvantage during the clash in the plaza. Historians have long assumed that these legendary rifles were the defenders’ best assets. But in the confused darkness of the open plaza, these feared weapons of the western frontier were all but useless at the critical moment. Especially, now in the dark-shrouded plaza, the Long Rifle—the range of which Santa Anna had already thoroughly negated by his surprise attack at night—proved largely ineffective because of its small caliber. Feared since the American Revolution, this frontier weapon was more ideally suited for hunting game no larger than a white-tailed deer, while proving totally unsuitable to resist swarming attackers practically atop the defenders in the darkness. Travis and some other garrison members knew as much, carrying double-barrel shotguns.
With the Mexicans rushing upon the startled garrison members in the open plaza, what was now needed for any chance of hurling back this initial wave of attackers was a close-range volley from shotguns loaded with deadly “buck and ball.” Shotguns were the only weapon that would have been effective at close range. A deliberately aimed shot from a Kentucky or Pennsylvania Long Rifle at an attacking Mexican, especially in the blackness when visibility was yet almost zero, was of little value.
Worst of all, these weapons could not be enhanced with what the defenders now needed most—bayonets—to fend off the foremost attackers pouring through the plaza. In addition, and unlike the much sturdier British Brown Bess muskets carried by Santa Anna’s men, the Kentucky Long Rifle was even unworthy as a club in close quarter fighting. Indeed, compared to the heavier Napoleonic muskets, this slight hunters’ rifle “was more fragile and [therefore] it could not be used as effectively in extremity as a club.” 94
When defenders met attackers headlong in the plaza’s blackness, the Long Rifle only helped to ensure an additional lack of firm resistance, because it took so long to reload, especially during the heat of battle. After the first shot from a Long Rifle, Travis’ men would have to spend nearly a minute loading the weapon, elegant in its craftsmanship and design, even under ideal conditions. In the darkness, panic, and clamor of the steamrolling Mexican attack, nervous fingers took even longer to reload their weapons. Dazed garrison members caught in the open plaza were quickly dispatched, either bayoneted, shot, or knocked down by a musket-butt by the fast-moving Mexican soldados racing from north to south toward the Long Barracks and church. Some of Travis’ soldiers died grisly deaths from jabbing bayonets, while attempting to defend themselves with the day’s finest long-range weapon, when it was most likely empty, either never having been fired in the first place or after getting off only one shot. 95
In contrast to the Long Rifle, the durable, smooth-bore musket of the Mexican soldier, was a heavy weapon of large caliber and much more reliable in close combat. The large .75 caliber round shot of this musket, that the British government obtained from the East India Company to confront Napoleon’s then seemingly invincible legions, could inflict terrible damage on its victims, unlike the Long Rifle’s small caliber ball. 96
So in regard to the close-quarter fighting inside the Alamo’s walls, it was not those Americans armed with the Long Rifle but the Mexicans who possessed a distinct advantage, because of their use of “buck and ball” cartridges in muskets. The buckshot-plus-bullet ammunition made the discharge from the Brown Bess almost like a mini-shotgun. Along with the well accepted fact of the general inaccuracy of the Napoleonic musket, this shotgun effect negated the lack of marksmanship training of the Mexican fighting men in Santa Anna’s ranks. 97
Besides shortages of ammunition, one previously unexplored issue in regard to explaining why it took so long for Travis’ men to get ready for action and why the defenders’ resistance was so weak was because of the time that it took to get their firearms ready for action. If garrison members—mostly rookies without military experience—had kept their weapons loaded during the night in case of a surprise attack, their powder charges would have been of little use by early morning. For instance, when General Houston’s army learned of Santa Anna’s approach toward San Jacinto in April 1836, hundreds of soldiers would be forced out of necessity, even on a warm day, to fire their weapons in the air “to clear their barrels by blowing away the wetness,” so that they could reload their weapons with fresh powder charges. 98
However, under immediate attack and surprised from a deep sleep, the Alamo men possessed little, if any, time this morning to fire off their old rounds in order to reload. Consequently, a good many defenders’ weapons, if they had kept them loaded through the cold night, could not be fired by the time of the attack. In addition, the firing mechanisms of flintlock muskets—unlike new model British muskets with waterproof flash pans—were not moisture-proof, preventing the flints causing sparks to ignite the firing pan and thus the powder charge in the barrel. In contrast, Santa Anna’s troops had possessed ample time to make sure their weapons were in proper working order before the attack was ordered. Naturally, a host of misfired weapons would have created even more panic among the defenders.
In the dark still shrouding the Alamo like a funeral pall, many garrison members were likely caught without loaded weapons and were defenseless when the swiftly advancing Mexicans descended upon them. These unfortunate men were either shot down, sabered, or bayoneted while either racing across the parade ground toward the north wall or in retiring south in an attempt to find shelter or a semblance of organized resistance. One account has claimed that Crockett was killed when “he crossed the fort’s parade ground.” 99Indeed, Andrea Castanon de Vallanueva described how Crockett “advanced from the Church building towards the wall or rampart running from the end of the stockade . . . when suddenly a volley was fired by the Mexicans [who had scaled the north wall] causing him to fall forward on his face, dead.” 100
In addition, the overall lack of resistance very likely could also be attributed to not only damp ammunition from winter conditions, but also because the defenders used the vastly inferior Mexican reserves of powder left behind by Cós’ troops, who took the best Mexican powder with them, thanks to Cós’ covert directive to circumvent the capitulation agreement. As if that was not bad enough, Matamoros Expedition members, acting on Johnson’s and Grant’s “arbitrary measures,” had later taken most of the best powder for themselves, the fine-grained, double DuPont Powder from the Brandywine Powder Mills, which was far superior to the coarse Mexican power. After all, on March 3, Travis had requested black powder from the government, citing only ten kegs remaining. If the defenders attempted to use the powder from the paper cartridges of the thousands of rounds left behind by Cós, they then very likely discovered that it was “damaged” and “useless” at this critical moment. Poor quality Mexican powder was so impotent that Texians had earlier in the revolution discovered that they were entirely safe “from any injury by their guns.” Therefore, the Alamo’s defenders had been left with the worst powder, after the best had been taken not only by paroled Mexican troops but also Matamoros Expedition members, leaving them ill-prepared to meet the attackers. 101
Ironically, after the north wall was overrun by the tide of Dúque’s, Cós, and Romero’s attackers, the second penetration of Mexican troops surging into the compound came at what was considered one of its strongest points, the southwest corner. Traditional historians have overlooked the importance of the role of the well-trained cazadores of Colonel Morales’ column, viewing this attack as merely a feint because it struck the Alamo’s south side and failed in its central objective of overrunning the main gate. In fact, this was not a diversion or feint, because Morales and his soldados had been given a key assignment—to capture the very entrance to the Alamo. And Colonel Morales’ column consisted of elite troops. Indeed, in a rare compliment from a seasoned cavalryman, Sergeant Loranca, bestowed an honorary name upon the men of the San Luís Potosí Battalion. He described them as the “Firmas,” because of their reliability and combat prowess, almost
a crack Grenadier Guard.
In the end, Santa Anna’s faith in these troops was rewarded not at the main gate, as he had planned, but at one of the Alamo’s strongest defensive points. This position at the compound’s southwest corner was guarded by the garrison’s largest cannon, the 18-pounder. It had been set in place to fire over the wall because no embrasures existed at this wood and earthen firing platform accessed by a lengthy ramp. Morales understood the advantages of overrunning the Alamo’s southwest corner and the garrison’s largest artillery piece: a guarantee to further unhinge the belated, floundering defensive effort.
Here, at the Alamo’s southwest corner, resistance was almost nonexistent because of tactical developments elsewhere, especially the overrunning of the north wall. By this time, most of the artillerymen and defending infantry in this sector had evidently retired back toward the Long Barracks and the church area, after ascertaining that the north wall had been overwhelmed and Mexicans were now charging through the plaza to gain their rear. Even if the gunners had remained in position, the 18-pounder was faced in the wrong direction, west toward San Antonio and not toward Morales’ attackers.
Morales’ men had earlier eased within short striking distance of the southwest corner, after having moved west along the protective cover of the irrigation ditch to take cover behind the stone house, out-flanking this elevated defensive position and the Alamo’s largest cannon from the south. And in the darkness, the mere handful of artillerymen at the 18– pounder, if yet manned, very likely never saw Morales’ small column shifting west and moving along the irrigation ditch, taking cover behind the house, and eventually targeting the southwest corner’s flank until it was too late. Such a stealthy approach in the dark doomed this artillery position. To justify the epic resistance effort of the mythical Alamo, some historians have speculated that defenders at the south and west walls left their positions to bolster the north wall’s defense, but this was almost certainly not the case, because that sector, known for lack of good firing positions for riflemen, had already been overrun in short order. Being too little and too late, any reinforcements rushing to the north wall would have been subsumed into the oncoming mass of soldados. Instead, these defenders headed toward the Long Barracks and church rather than waste their lives defending another wall that could not be held. 102
Taking the initiative on their own, like so many other attackers this early morning and in a “daring move,” in General Filisola’s words, Colonel Morales’ men emerged from around the stone house, only a short distance from the fort’s southwest corner. They then advanced straight north against the Alamo. Encouraged by the lack of resistance along the south wall, Colonel Morales capitalized on his bold move. These light troops scaled the wall from both the south and west, overrunning the elevated artillery position with a cheer that could be heard above the crackling gunfire.
Leading the way and inspiring his troops onward, Colonel Miñon, second in command of Morales’ column, was the first man to jump inside this elevated strongpoint, after climbing the shaky ladder planted against the stone wall. Resplendent in a fine uniform like Santa Anna’s other high-ranking officers, Miñon was not hit by a bullet, musket-butt, or Bowie knife, because resistance was almost totally lacking by this time. Incredibly, this key bastion was all but undefended at the critical moment.
Surprised by the absence of defenders, Miñon, a veteran officer who knew how to lead men in combat, described with pride—as he could not see what was transpiring at the north wall—how “I managed to achieve, along with his force, that it was the first one that was successful in victory inside of the enemy perimeter.” The example of a full ranking colonel having been the first inside the compound in this key sector indicated one secret of Santa Anna’s success on this day: reliable, hardened high-ranking officers who led the way rather than commanding from the rear. The same was true in the performance of high-ranking officers in the attack on the north wall.
As directed by Morales and Miñon, these victors of the San Luis Potosi Battalion at the compound’s southwest corner took firing positions at high points along the perimeter. Perhaps they planted the Mexican tricolor, with its majestic golden eagle perched atop a cactus with a snake in its beak, beside the captured 18-pounder, symbolizing their success. Then, well-trained for this close-range business of killing even in the dark, these reliable light troops, or chasseurs, blasted away from elevated perches atop the walls and the cannon’s firing platform. What relatively few surviving defenders who had been at or near the compound’s southwest corner now headed east across the plaza and toward the Long Barracks and church. 103
New Englander Colonel R.L. Crompton was the only Anglo who witnessed what had happened at the Alamo’s southwest corner. He was surprised to see how easily “the Mexicans effected a lodgment on an undefended part of the wall.” 104
He viewed the action, illuminated by flashes of gunfire, from the vantage point of the window of a mud-and-thatch jacale (Tejano house) in Pueblo de Valero, which was located south of the Alamo, just outside the main gate and along the Gonzáles Road just west of the Alameda. From here, this young man from Massachusetts could easily view events swirling around the Alamo’s southwest corner. Crompton was a solitary volunteer reinforcement who had never reached the Alamo. In riding down the Gonzáles Road in pitch blackness previous to March 5, he had been hit by gunfire from Sesma’s cavalrymen, who guarded the road to keep reinforcements from entering the fort. Fortunately, as a veteran of San Antonio’s capture in December 1835, he knew of a Tejano friend who gave him shelter at his home in Pueblo de Valero. 105
Such evidence has revealed that resistance might have been nonexistent because the 18-pounder gunners might have never even reached their positions. Quite likely, with the artillery barracks on the compound’s opposite side, these artillerymen might have not been awakened in time, or had been cut-off from reaching the southwest corner artillery platform by Mexican troops swarming from the north wall. Now, after seizing the 18-pounder and the compound’s southwest corner, Colonel Morales’ men, from good firing positions atop the walls and rooftops, poured a hot fire from their elevated perches, blasting down into the dark plaza at the whiteness—face and necks—of Travis’ men. Some time later, San Luís Potosí Battalion soldados would advance to take possession of the main gate and the lunette from the rear. 106
In overall tactical terms, the relatively easy overrunning of the compound’s southwest corner also partly explains why the Mexican advance once inside the walls was so swift and overpowering, meeting light resistance. Nothing could now stop the attacker’s momentum, especially when facing only a relative handful of dazed, half-asleep defenders, who hardly knew what had hit them. But with large numbers of Mexicans inside the Alamo’s walls and descending into the plaza from the north, some dazed Anglo-Celts elected not to flee into the Long Barracks, but instead retired back toward the main gate, which was free from attack by Colonel Morales’ soldiers, who had concentrated at the Alamo’s southwest corner. In the darkened tumult, neither Captain Baugh nor any other officer could stop or fully comprehend the fastmoving tactical events now swirling out of control around them. 107
Even worse, the defenders’ position along the southern perimeter— at the lunette guarding the main gate, along the palisade, and along the rooftops—was destined to be compromised from behind, after Colonel Morales’ chasseur troops overran the Alamo’s southwest corner. Ironically, the most formidable weapon in the Alamo’s artillery arsenal, already facing the wrong direction and far too heavy to turn, might well have not fired a single shot. As a partial testament to the overall feeble defensive effort was the fact that Santa Anna’s smallest attack column— the San Luís Potosí Battalion chasseurs—had made a significant tactical gain.
Consequently, when Morales’ troops overwhelmed the Alamo’s vulnerable southwest corner, they also flanked the defenders along the west wall on the left. This tactical development resulted in some of the remaining west wall defenders
fleeing back into the plaza, heading north for the Long Barracks’ relative safety, or south toward the palisade’s sally port, hoping to escape the deathtrap. Some of these retiring soldiers were almost certainly wiped out in the plaza by Mexicans, who had poured over the north wall on the left. Overall, and especially only with a relative handful of men, Colonel Morales’ success was impressive, and small wonder that he later described this struggle as “the glorious battle of the Alamo.” 108
Overwhelmed by debilitating “combat shock,” no organized lines of defense, concentrated volleys, or standing fire took place among the stunned Anglo-Celts, who had been so thoroughly worn down both physically, emotionally, and psychologically by the nearly two-week siege, the lack of sleep, and their hopeless plight. Especially with the Mexicans pouring over the walls, the flight or fight impulse had been triggered among the remaining survivors. And now flight was not only instantaneous but also automatic—an unthinking, natural response to survive—under dire circumstances. A panic triggered by the surprise attack in darkness became more widespread, enhanced by the sights and sounds of vengeful soldados giving no quarter. All the while, the “screams of the crazy, exultant Mexicans increased every moment [with] the yell [compared to] the yell of a mountain panther or lynx.”
By this time, almost every surviving defender had bolted away from the north wall, west wall, and southwest corner, heading either toward the south wall and church or the Long Barracks. De la Pena described the rout of the stunned band of Anglo-Celts, caught in the open in the pitch-blackness of the nearly three acres of the open plaza, writing how the “terrified defenders withdrew at once into quarters placed to the right and to the left of the small area that constituted their second line of defense. . . . Not all of them took refuge, for some remained in the open, looking at us before firing, as if dumbfounded at our daring.” 109
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