Slavery and the Myth of the Alamo

ballscout1

Rising Star
BGOL Investor
James W. Russell, University Professor of Sociology at Eastern Connecticut State University, is the author most recently of Escape from Texas: A Novel of Slavery and the Texas War of Independence. More information is available at http://escapefromtexas.com.


Two and a half million people visit the Alamo each year where, according to its website, “men made the ultimate sacrifice for freedom,” making it “hallowed ground and the Shrine of Texas Liberty.”

There can be no doubt that the symbolism of the Alamo is at the center of the creation myth of Texas: that the state was forged out of a heroic struggle for freedom against a cruel Mexican dictator, Santa Ana. It represents to the Southwest what the Statue of Liberty represents to the Northeast: a satisfying confirmation of what we are supposedly about as a people.

But if Northeasterners can be excused for embracing a somewhat fuzzy notion of abstract liberty, the symbolism of the Alamo has always been built upon historical myth.

As the defenders of the Alamo were about to sacrifice their lives, other Texans were making clear the goals of the sacrifice at a constitutional convention for the new republic they hoped to create. In Section 9 of the General Provisions of the Constitution of the Republic of Texas, it is stated how the new republic would resolve their greatest problem under Mexican rule: “All persons of color who were slaves for life previous to their emigration to Texas, and who are now held in bondage, shall remain in the like state of servitude ... Congress shall pass no laws to prohibit emigrants from bringing their slaves into the republic with them, and holding them by the same tenure by which such slaves were held in the United States; nor shall congress have power to emancipate slaves.”

Mexico had in fact abolished slavery in 1829, causing panic among the Texas slaveholders, overwhelmingly immigrants from the south of the United States. They in turn sent Stephen Austin to Mexico City to complain. Austin was able to wrest from the Mexican authorities an exemption for the department -- Texas was technically a department of the state of Coahuila y Tejas -- that would allow the vile institution to continue. But it was an exemption reluctantly given, mainly because the authorities wanted to avoid rebellion in Texas when they already had problems in Yucatán and Guatemala. All of the leaders of Mexico, in itself only an independent country since 1821, were personally opposed to slavery, in part because of the influence of emissaries from the freed slave republic of Haiti. The exemption was, in their minds, a temporary measure and Texas slaveholders knew that.

The legality of slavery had thus been at best tenuous and uncertain at a time when demand for cotton -- the main slave-produced export -- was accelerating on the international market. A central goal of independence would be to remove that uncertainty.

The Mexican armies that entered the department to put down the rebellion had explicit orders to free any slaves that they encountered, and so they did. The only person spared in the retaking of the Alamo was Joe, the personal slave of William Travis.

Once the rebels succeeded in breaking Texas away from Mexico and establishing an independent republic, slavery took off as an institution. Between 1836 and 1840, the slave population doubled; it doubled again by 1845; and it doubled still again by 1850 after annexation by the United States. On the eve of the Civil War, which Texas would enter as a part of the Confederacy, there were 182,566 slaves, nearly one-third of the state’s population.

As more slaves came into the Republic of Texas, more escaped to Mexico. Matamoros in the 1840s had a large and flourishing colony of ex-slaves from Texas and the United States. Though exact numbers do not exist, as many slaves may have escaped to Mexico as escaped through the more famous underground railway to Canada. The Mexican government, for its part, encouraged the slave runaways, often with offers of land as well as freedom.

The defenders of the Alamo, as brave as they may have been, were martyrs to the cause of the freedom of slaveholders, with the Texas War of Independence having been the first of their nineteenth-century revolts, with the American Civil War the second.
 
Greed, slavery and Davy Crockett: The truth about Texas history​

ABOUT THIS ESSAY

Dallas author James Donovan’s new book, The Blood of Heroes: The 13-Day Struggle for the Alamo — and the Sacrifice That Forged a Nation, was released last week to critical acclaim. To mark its arrival, we asked Donovan to tell us what he learned about the myths and facts of Texas history while immersing himself in the story of its birth.

Everyone knows that Davy Crockett was executed after the battle of the Alamo by Santa Anna.

Except he wasn’t.

Although many historians have written of Crockett’s execution as if it were a proven and accepted fact, it’s unlikely. Proponents of this claim often cite as evidence the accounts of five or six Mexican officers and one sergeant, which sounds convincing on the face of it. But a close look at these accounts reveals a collection of second- and third-hand hearsay stories that run from the highly questionable at best to the patently preposterous.

Among the many arguments against the Crockett execution theory is the fact that several high-ranking members of the Mexican army who were there (including Santa Anna himself) never mentioned the event in their accounts, diaries or after-action reports — and that two men, William Barret Travis’ slave Joe and the acting alcalde of San Antonio de Béxar — were asked by Santa Anna to identify Crockett’s body, and did. Clearly, he would not have needed it identified if he had just ordered him executed, and the two men described the location in a manner that makes it extremely difficult to accept his death as being the result of a post-battle execution.

All we can say with any certainty is that Crockett died at the Alamo — in a battle that lasted (contrary to claims of a quick 15-minute rout) at least 45 minutes and probably more than an hour, as the small garrison put up a fierce fight early on, one that forced Santa Anna to send in his reserves; even when his brave soldados had forced their way over and through the walls, they had to laboriously clear out the last pockets of resistance in the convento and the church.

Crockett’s death, and the duration of the Alamo battle, are two examples of how historical events often become encrusted with myth, legend and error, deliberate or not. Particularly before the invention of electronic recording devices around the turn of the 20th century, history was more pliable, especially for those with an agenda — or simply to make a good story even better.

False issues

Texas history, and particularly its early days, has seen more than its share of distortion, which seems to have increased in the last decade or two. Recently I heard a caller on a radio talk show state matter-of-factly that Sam Houston stole Texas from Mexico, and a recent book on the Alamo characterized the men who died there (and by extension virtually everyone who took part in the Texas Revolution) as greedy, land-grabbing slaveholders — and those without slaves as yearning to own them.

It is true that most of the Texas colonists at the time were from the nearby southern states of the U.S., and some of them owned slaves. (Though slavery was illegal in Mexico and its territories, including the province of Texas, immigrating slave owners could declare their chattels as indentured servants, and the Mexican authorities looked the other way once they were settled.) At the outbreak of the revolution in the fall of 1835, the plantation system was in the early stages of development. There were only 2,000 to 3,000 slaves in Texas, and the issue was not a major factor in the rebellion. (On the eve of the Civil War 15 years later, this repellent institution would comprise 183,000 bondsmen in Texas alone, and 3.5 million in the seceding states.)

As for greedy and land-grabbing, Texas colonists were no greedier than most people in search of a better life. It’s important to remember that the ownership of land at that time was essential to the concept of liberty, and its importance went beyond the desire for riches. Suffrage in the United States was initially confined to property owners; land meant power. While that requirement had been eliminated in all but a few states, the mind-set remained. In a world and time based on an agrarian way of life, in which 8 of 10 men worked the land, a man without land was nobody. Land at the time was expensive in the states, so when empresarios working under the auspices of the Mexican government promised generous grants at a nominal fee, thousands of men and their families from the United States and other countries began streaming into the untamed wilderness known as Texas.

Land and freedom

Few of these men were saints. Though some of them were not hardy backwoodsmen but former merchants and professionals (at least a half-dozen were attorneys, and a similar number were medical men), most were men of the land and they became de facto frontiersmen. And though aspiring colonists were required by Mexican law to supply proof of responsibility and good citizenship, and did, a good number of illegal immigrants entered Texas without permission, and some of these had G.T.T. (Gone To Texas) intent on shady pursuits, or were fugitives from the law, or from creditors, or family responsibilities.

Though most were southerners who, like their revolutionary ancestors, had reconciled slavery with their own freedom, all were fighting for what they saw as similar reasons: lack of proper political representation; the threat of military occupation; the demand to deliver up their arms; and the absence of basic rights such as trial by jury and habeas corpus. All these issues and more added up to a flagrant denial of liberty to men who still considered democracy a fresh and wonderful thing.

I have read dozens of letters written during that time by men fighting for the Texas cause, and though a few mention the fear that slavery would be eliminated, the overwhelming majority cite the ideals of their American Revolution forefathers. They sound almost like evangelicals for a new religion. Travis’ letter closing of “Victory or Death!” echoed Patrick Henry’s “Give me Liberty, or give me Death!” — clearly a deliberate stratagem by the well-read Travis.

Let’s not forget that this was not just a rebellion by Anglo settlers. Ironically, when Santa Anna was elected president in April 1833 on a platform of peace, prosperity and “an end to all hatreds,” he was hailed as a republican hero throughout the country, Texas included. Only when the church, the army and the landed gentry, unhappy with recent egalitarian reforms that limited their power, convinced him to change his politics did Santa Anna dissolve the Mexican Congress and begin canceling democratic laws and exercising the powers of a dictator. Uprisings occurred in at least half of the Mexican states, and armed resistance broke out in a few. Santa Anna repressed them all, some of them brutally, then raised a 6,000-man army and marched north. Texas was next.

Until that point, most of the Texas colonists were against a move toward independence and would have been satisfied with statehood and some guarantees of their rights. Although most of the province’s 35,000 inhabitants were Anglo colonists, hundreds of Mexican-born Tejanos (as they later came to be called) supported the cause and fought for it.

Truth matters

Were their reasons, and their revolt, justified? They thought so, and so did the overwhelming majority of observers around the world. If Mexicans could rebel against the yoke of Spanish tyranny, could Texans not do the same against a Mexican despot?

Every generation attempts, consciously or unconsciously, and with varying degrees of success, to reinterpret history according to their own beliefs. There are inherent dangers in this lack of objectivity — laws, programs and policies are made based upon such fallacies.

History, like life, may be messy, awkward and embarrassing on occasion, but that’s because it’s about people, and none of us is perfect. Without respect for historical truth, we compromise our ability to grow and improve both as individuals and as a society.
 
I'm gonna use this to piss off some people in the near future :yes:

Thanks for the info

Sent from my SPH-L720 using Tapatalk
 
I'm gonna use this to piss off some people in the near future :yes:

Let me give you a heads up: their anger isn't sincere either.

As for Americans not knowing American history, that's the wonderful thing about being American. That dutiful pledge to remain ignorant on any and everything.
 
Let me give you a heads up: their anger isn't sincere either.

As for Americans not knowing American history, that's the wonderful thing about being American. That dutiful pledge to remain ignorant on any and everything.[/QUOTE]

its called cultural conditioing and the miseducation that goes along with it is very intentional.
 
Let me give you a heads up: their anger isn't sincere either.

As for Americans not knowing American history, that's the wonderful thing about being American. That dutiful pledge to remain ignorant on any and everything.

As a history minor, I'm always amused by the blank stares I see on people's faces in class and during conversations I have. You'd be amazed at what Americans don't know, or care to know. I'd be looking around at my classmates like, "Y'all didn't know that?" :smh:
 
Back
Top