The army had straggled badly in the days since February 16, when it had crossed the Rio Grande. There had been a pause at the Nueces for hasty rebuilding of a wooden bridge, evidently burned by Texan scouts in hopes of delaying the invasion. At the Medina, Santa Anna had called a halt for a day of rest, to allow the lagging battalions to catch up. There, friendly arrivals from San Antonio had told the president that the Texans were to have a big dance in town the following night, that it would be easy to steal in under cover of darkness, catch them drunk, and do a quick and easy job of execution. Santa Anna had been intrigued by the possibilities, but a heavy rain and a rise in the river delayed his movement.

It was probably just as well, Díaz thought. The same rain had probably spoiled the Texans’ dance. They would be angry enough about that to put up a good fight.

All along, Santa Anna had wondered if the Texans might fortify the old mission Concepción south of town and make their stand there instead of in the Alamo, where Cós had found his position untenable. The walls of Concepción would be more difficult to breach then those of the Alamo. But informants coming from San Antonio said the defenders were still fortifying the Alamo. They had built up new breastworks and filled in gaps in the walls left by the December siege. They had cannon, and they had the long rifles that could reach out and kill a man at two or three hundred yards.

Díaz’s thoughts drifted to his old commander, Zaragosa. He wondered what the lieutenant was doing now, if he and his family had evacuated their farm and moved to a safe distance from the battle that was about to take place. Surely the lieutenant had not taken up the Texan cause. The president had declared this a racial war, Mexican against americano. It was unthinkable that any true Mexican could hesitate about choosing his side. Yet Díaz knew that many had done so. Men like Lorenzo de Zavala and Juan Seguín had turned against their race, had taken up the call for an independent Texas. That meant an American Texas. There would be no place in it for Mexicans. The turncoats would learn soon enough who their true enemies were, should the unthinkable happen and the Texans win. Once their services were no longer required, the Texans would turn upon them and drive them out, taking for themselves all the properties the disloyal Mexicans left behind.

He could only hope that this was not the case with Zaragosa. There were others in San Antonio who deserved no better, but Zaragosa was a good man, a good soldier, a true Mexican.

As the column approached the town, Santa Anna sent Colonel Mora to take possession of the Concepción mission, to keep it from the hands of the Texans should they decide upon wholesale retreat to a better position than the Alamo. Díaz could hear the sounds of musketry in the distance and knew Mora’s troops were caught in a skirmish. It was not of long duration, and a courier soon reported back that the mission was firmly in hand. The Texans who had challenged the column had fled back toward the town, toward the Alamo.