“My fellow Texans, and to freedom-loving people all over America. These are my final words from this post. I pray God they will be read over and over, for years to come. For these words, these thoughts, these emotions, they are not just from me, but from all the brave men gathered here who have chosen to die for liberty and freedom.
“Oh, but shed no tears, for we shall not die in vain. For in the pools of our spilled blood in this old mission, shall be written the song of freedom for Texas. Nay, not just for Texas, but for the whole of the United States. Sing it loudly, men and women of America. Sing it to your children and to your children’s children and to every generation until the whole world knows the tune. Sing it so we shall never be forgotten. Sing it before armies go into battle. Remember the Alamo. Let it be a battle cry that rolls off of every tongue in every conflict from this moment on. Don’t forget us, Americans. Don’t. I beg you. Don’t let our memories die. Don’t have these brave boys die for naught.
“Santa Anna thinks this will be an easy victory. But we are going to teach Santa Anna a hard lesson about men’s dreams of freedom. I think after the smoke has cleared, and the last ball is fired, Santa Anna will know he’s been in a fight. I have my brace of pistols and my good knife. So let them come. I shall soon be in the arms of my darling Ursula.
“It will be over for us in a few hours. And I want everyone to know that William Barret Travis has my respect. He is a brave and resourceful leader and I would follow him through the gates of Hell and probably will.
“So — life ebbs and comes down to this. I wonder what the thoughts are of those men huddled against those walls, seeking relief from the bitter cold and the loneliness of separation from family and home. Much like mine, I would think. Sad, perhaps mingled with a touch of fear. Oh, not fear of the act of dying itself, but fear of the unknown. For who among us knows what lies beyond the veil? Ah, well, we’ll all soon know.
“So — I will close with these thoughts: Remember the men of the Alamo. For we will never surrender. We shall fight to the last man, until the last breath is gone from the last defender. And these final words I dedicate to the men who wait to die outside this warm room. They are gallant men. Brave men. Free men. And they are dying for you.
“These words come from a garrison valiant and steeped in courage. And our last word must be — farewell.
“Farewell.”
“Goodbye, Jim,” Jamie whispered. “You won’t be forgotten. The men of the Alamo will never be forgotten. For I shall tell my children, and they will tell their children. And the world will know that on that awful bloody day, men of more courage than most possess fought to the last man. They died for God and for Texas.”
Here’s a sneak preview of DREAMS OF EAGLES — The next book in the series...
In the late summer of 1837, Jamie Ian MacCallister, one of only two survivors from the battle at the Alamo, his wife, Kate, and a small group of friends had pushed deep into uncharted country that would someday be called Colorado. They kept on pushing until Jamie, who was scouting far ahead of the wagons, came to a long wide valley — a respectable creek running right down the middle of it, the valley nestled amid towering mountains. Jamie dismounted and jammed his hands into the earth. The earth was dark and rich. The pass he had used to enter the valley was wide and not likely to be blocked, at least for very long, by snow. The valley was lush with timber. Jamie rose, still holding the handfuls of rich earth and looked all around him. His long shoulder-length blond hair fanned under the breath of wind. He nodded his head and put the earth into a cloth sack. Then he mounted and rode back to the wagons. He tossed the sack to the big man called the Swede.
“How about that, Swede?”
The man smelled the earth, then fingered it. He grinned. “It will grow good crops, Jamie.”
Jamie rode back to his wagon, driven by Kate. “We’re almost home, Kate. Just a few more miles. It’s beautiful, it’s lovely, and it’s lonely, but I think you’ll like it.
She smiled at him. “If you like it, I like it.”
A few miles further on, Jamie halted the small wagon train and pointed to the long valley. “Yonder she lies, people.”
The children piled out of the wagons and ran forward, the tall grass waist high on the youngest.
“Jamie, it’s the most beautiful place I have ever seen!” Kate whispered.
“It’s our home, Kate. We’ve come home at last.”
Notes
1
Actual wording of letter. Victory or Death was underlined three times.
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