Texas

The Goliad Massacre and the Battle of Coleto Creek, 190 Years On Imagine the cold gray dawn of Palm Sunday, March 27, 1836. Nearly 400 Texian prisoners, many still nursing wounds from battle, marched out of Presidio La Bahía in three columns, believing they were being paroled, exchanged, or sent home. The air was crisp, the grass wet with dew. Then, a half-mile from the fort, the guards halted. Commands rang out in Spanish. Muskets rose. In an instant, the prairie erupted in gunfire, smoke, and screams. This is the story of the Goliad Massacre, the darkest chapter of the Texas…

No Quarter: The Fall of the Alamo – Dawn of Sacrifice, 190 Years On Imagine the bone-deep exhaustion inside those battered adobe walls on the night of March 5, 1836. For twelve straight days the Mexican artillery had thundered without mercy, day and night. Bugles blared, regimental bands played taunting marches, and the relentless cannonade kept every defender on the walls or jumping at shadows. Then, suddenly, as darkness fell on the twelfth night, an eerie silence descended. The guns fell quiet. The music stopped. For the first time since the siege began, the Alamo slept. It was a trap. This…

The Declaration and Constitution at Washington-on-the-Brazos, 190 Years On Picture a raw, unfinished wooden hall on the banks of the Brazos River: leaky roof, dirt floor, the chill of early March seeping through cracks in the walls. Rain drums outside, wagons creak in the mud, and inside, 59 men from across the scattered settlements of Texas crowd benches or stand along the walls. It's March 2, 1836, exactly 190 years ago today, and while cannon fire still echoes faintly from the direction of the Alamo (though the full horror of its fall won't reach them for days), these delegates put quill…

Reliving the Alamo Siege on Its 190th Anniversary Imagine, if you will, the dusty chill of a late February dawn in 1836 Bexar—modern-day San Antonio. The air hangs heavy with the scent of gunpowder and mesquite smoke, the distant lowing of scavenged cattle mingling with the rhythmic thud of Mexican artillery. It's been scarcely a day since General Antonio López de Santa Anna's forces unfurled their blood-red flag from the tower of San Fernando Cathedral, signaling no quarter for the rebels holed up in the old mission turned fortress: the Alamo. And here, on this very date—February 24, exactly 190 years…