Remembering the Past to Appreciate What We Have

image from Rep. Valoree Swanson's facebook page

This is the season for Texas history. March 2^, 1836, was the signing of Texas Declaration of independence from Mexico. While that was going on, a tiny force was holding out against an overwhelmingly large Mexican army—for thirteen days—at the Alamo, which finally fell on March 6^th. While things were looking pretty bleak, it was only a little over a month later, April 21^st, at the Battle of San Jacinto, that Texas won its war for independence.

Last Saturday I played music as part of the festivities at Washington-on-the-Brazos, where the Texas Declaration of Independence was signed. That location is about halfway between us and the grandkids, so we talked their parents into bringing them. When I was done playing, we still had some look around time, and took a few photos.

Washington-on-the-Brazos, where Texas declared independence from Mexico

The building, at Washington-on-the-Brazos, where the Texas Declaration of Independence was signed, was a lot more rough frontier than the original US colonists signed their declaration.

re-enactors of the signing

Re-enactors gave us an idea of the people who signed the Texas Declaration. Weather was good, but chilly. It's unpredictable this time of year. The signers in 1836 did it as quickly as they could, to get out of that drafty building.

inside the building where the Texas Declaration was signed

They had a good model for a Declaration of Independence, since they had the US as a model.

Grandddaughter Little PS 1

The kids got to make things: a cornhusk doll, some tooled leather.

demonstrating an old-time potter's wheel

We got to watch a potter at work.

demonstrating an old-time weaving loom

And a weaver.

I’m amazed at the ingenuity of what people figured out to do before electricity. The machines are involved and detailed, but foot-powered.

a protestor

I took a picture of this guy because of his costume and swinging the flag. But then I heard what he was saying. He was located in a protest zone, declaring his First Amendment right to express his views. All good. But his view was that Mexicans had been mistreated here in Texas, and it was their land. I think he stopped short of saying we ought to give it back; I didn't keep listening.

But this is curious. He’s at the place where Texans—including both Spanish-speaking and English-speaking—fought and won a war for independence from Mexico, because their dictator, Santa Anna, had taken away their rights, and all efforts to peacefully seek redress were thwarted. Stephen F. Austin had spent 18 months imprisoned, without charges, just for seeking a peaceful solution. He returned to Texas saying the only option left was war.

This painting of the Battle of San Jacinto
hangs in the Texas Capitol, but I got this image from History.com

After the Battle of San Jacinto, a brief and decisive victory for Texas, which included capturing Santa Anna, Texas was free of that tyranny. It’s the same way the United States became free from the tyranny of the British king following the Revolutionary War. The argument to give Texas back to Mexico makes no more sense than giving back the thirteen original American colonies to Britain. Once a war is fought for freedom, you don’t give your land back just to be nice.

It’s ironic that this man was making his argument in a place made safe for him to make it—because we won freedom from tyranny. And he’s complaining about that?

Our US Constitution is the best document ever created for allowing people to have freedom, prosperity, and civilization.

This is a good time to be alive. Innovation that has come out of a free market over the past couple of centuries is phenomenal. We live in relative peace. People all over the world are now more likely to have their basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing met than at any time in history.

It’s good to take a look at history now and then to help us appreciate how very good things are in the present.

Remembering the Alamo

Today marks the day of the siege on the Alamo, March 6, 1836, when a few dozen Texans held off 5000 Mexican military—long enough for General Sam Houston to gather troops and win the war for independence a month and a half later. It was a sacrifice, but it wasn’t a lost cause. The standoff lasted from February 23 to March 6, some thirteen days by the time the Mexican Army went ahead with the take-no-prisoners attack (there were survivors, about a dozen noncombatants, mainly women and children).

The Alamo (image from Wikipedia)

Texas is a great state for history. We’ve got colorful things worth remembering and retelling. My daughter-in-law (Mrs. Political Sphere) comes from a little town west of Houston that was started by Father of Texas Stephen F. Austin, laid out by Gail Borden (who invented Borden sweetened condensed milk, and also a surveying method he used to make a living). This little town, San Felipe (pronounced by those who live there as San Phillip, or sometimes by others as San Phillipee) was mostly abandoned in what was known as the Runaway Scrape, with citizens freeing before the Mexican Army. A brief battle took place there. They still tell their local stories, even though it wasn’t a major part of the Texas war for independence.

Stephen F. Austin
(image from Wikipedia)

Mexico had a constitution, a written law that guaranteed citizens certain rights. But Santa Anna had taken over as dictator, disregarding the limitations in the law. Stephen F. Austin had gone to Mexico’s capitol to talk through the issues, and form a new state where the laws would be respected. Rather than having the opportunity to voice his complaints, representing his people, and work toward solutions, Austin was labeled an insurrectionist, placed in a dungeon too small to stand or stretch out, where he was held for eight months, being released in August 1835. At this point he returned to find the colonists on the verge of rebellion, and he let them know he now believed they were beyond negotiating with the tyranny of Santa Anna. It was time to fight for their freedom from the tyranny of Mexico.

The bad treatment in the prison deteriorated his health, leading to his death following a bad cold, in December 1836, just a half a year after Texas won independence.

Back to the Alamo. During the rebellion, the war for independence, Presidente Santa Anna moved his troops from city to city to quell the insurrection. The Alamo was an old mission, outside San Antonio (it’s right in the middle of downtown San Antonio today, since the city has grown around it), that could be used as a fortress. Colonel William B. Travis, assigned to lead the troops there, knew he couldn’t hold off the huge Mexican Army. But he also knew that he needed to detain that army as long as possible.

Just four days earlier (March 2, 1836, at Washington-on-the-Brazos, a long two-day’s horse ride from the Alamo) Texas had signed its Declaration of Independence from Mexico. And General Sam Houston was moving through the settlers to build up an army from among the Texians (the settlers that had immigrated from the United States) and the Tejanos (the ethnic Mexicans living in that region). He needed as much time as he could get.

Texas Declaration of Independence
(image from Wikipedia)

A Facebook friend quoted today a historical retelling of the Alamo from Bill Bennett’s American Patriot's Almanac, that I’d like to re-post here:

Storm winds of tyranny blew across Texas in early 1836. In those days the region was a part of Mexico, where General Santa Anna had seized power and made himself dictator. Texans weren’t willing to submit to his rule, so Santa Anna marched north with an army.

In San Antonio a small band gathered to make their stand at the Alamo, an old Spanish mission turned into a fort. They were tough characters, men who had settled a wild frontier. With them was the famous Davy Crockett from Tennessee.

The Mexican army arrived and demanded the Alamo’s surrender. The Texans answered with a cannon shot. Santa Anna ordered a red flag raised, a signal meaning “We will take no prisoners.”

Colonel William Travis, commander of the Alamo, dispatched messengers bearing appeals for reinforcements. “Our flag still waves proudly from the walls,” he wrote. “I shall never surrender nor retreat . . . Victory or death!”

Only 32 men made their way through the enemy lines to join the Texans at the Alamo. That brought the number of defenders to about 189. The Mexican army, meanwhile, swelled to perhaps 5,000.

Legend says that Travis called his men together, drew a line in the dust with his sword, and announced that those who wanted to stay and fight should step over the line. Every man but one crossed over.

The attack came early the next morning, on March 6, 1836. For a while, the Texans managed to hold the Mexican army back, but soon Santa Anna’s soldiers swarmed over the walls. All of the Alamo’s defenders were killed.

The Texans weren’t finished. On April 21, troops commanded by Sam Houston attacked and broke Santa Anna’s army. “Remember the Alamo!” was their battle cry—a cry that still reminds Americans of unyielding courage and sacrifice for freedom.

 

That April 21^st defeat, at San Jacinto, just east of present-day Houston, took only 18 minutes. Houston comparatively small army took the Mexican troops by surprise. The tyrant Santa Ana was among the captives, dressed as just one of the men, trying to avoid notice, ignominious and cowardly. When discovered, he was forced by Sam Houston to officially declare Texas’s victory in its war for independence, and then he was allowed to return to Mexico to continue his cowardly tyranny there.

It takes bravery and sacrifice to secure liberty. And tyrants are generally found to be cowards and bullies when confronted with bravery. That’s something to remember in the never-ending battle between tyranny and freedom.