The president was pleased. Now, he said, it was time to show these invaders the shine of Mexican steel, to vindicate the honor of the Mexican army, so besmirched by the unwillingness of his brother-in-law Cós to stand and fight. He ordered his men into full dress uniform.

Díaz carried a small diary in his pocket. In it he had marked the important dates: February 16, crossing the Rio Grande; February 17, the Nueces; February 21, the Medina. Now he took out a short pencil and noted this date: “February 23, 1836. Entering San Antonio de Bexar.”

The president himself rode just behind the advance guard, resplendent in his best uniform. As he entered the main plaza, his band struck up a march for the benefit of those inhabitants who had not fled the town. Before and behind him fluttered the banners of the various army units, and the red, green, and white flag that symbolized the glory of Mexico, the eagle with a snake in its teeth, its claws clutching a cactus.

Soon Santa Anna would have a snake in his teeth, and he would administer to these invaders such a terrible defeat that never again would Americans even consider crossing over the Sabine. Never again would military scholars devote all their attention to Napoleon Bonaparte. They would marvel at the greatest warrior of them all, the Napoleon of the West, General Antonio López de Santa Anna.

A red flag of no quarter was raised over the tower of the San Fernando. The eighteen-pound cannon at the Alamo was fired toward the city in reply.

The battle for the Alamo had begun.

XXIV

ISAAC BLACKWOOD was exhausted. For twelve days since the first Mexican troops had marched into San Antonio de Bexar to the sound of Santa Anna’s band, there had been a constant bombardment of one kind or another, advances by infantry, sallies by Mexican cavalry, the digging of trenches to let soldiers move into closer range of the Alamo walls under the protection of earthworks. Seldom in that long siege had the defenders been able to sleep for any restful length of time. He guessed this was a part of Santa Anna’s strategy, to keep them awake, keep them off balance, wear them down before he attempted whatever his plans called for. The general expectation was that sooner or later he would stage a grand assault. The only question in most of the defenders’ minds was why he had already waited so long.

Isaac was hungry, too. Rations had been reduced to corn and beef, and a short supply even of that, for there were 188 men within these stone walls, and not enough food for half so many. Not since the coming of the Mexican soldiers had he eaten his fill.

For the first few days it had been obvious that new Santanista troops were arriving at regular intervals, adding to the thousands massed outside the walls, throughout the town and encamped on its fringes. They had been strung out along the trail because of the sparcity of grass and decent water as well as because of the miserable weather that had turned roads into bottomless pits of mud. Now and again, one Mexican unit or another would make an attempt at rushing the walls, only to be cut to pieces by Texan rifle fire and a lethal peppering of scrap iron and chain from the fourteen artillery pieces manned within the Alamo. Each time they came, Isaac’s heartbeat quickened, and when they retreated it would be a long time slowing back to normal. If it was Santa Anna’s aim to wear Isaac down, he was doing a good job of it.