We are illy prepared for their reception [ran his appeal to the helpless Governor Smith], as we have not more than one hundred and fifty men here, and they are in a very disorganized state. Yet, we are determined to sustain it as long as there is a man left, because we consider death preferable to disgrace, which would be the result of giving up a post which has been so dearly won, and thus opening the door for the invaders to enter the sacred territory of the colonies. We hope our countrymen will open their eyes to the present danger, and wake from their false security. I hope all party dissensions will subside, and that our citizens will unite in the common cause and fly to the aid of the frontier.
I fear it is useless to waste arguments upon them. The thunder of the enemy’s cannon――the cries of their famished children and the smoke of their burning dwellings will only arouse them.
For God’s sake, and for the sake of our country [implored the brave Lieutenant-Colonel Travis], send us reinforcements. And he added:
With two hundred men I believe this place can be maintained, and I hope they will be sent as soon as possible. Yet, should we receive no reinforcements, I am determined; and should Bexar fall, your friend will be found beneath its ruins.
Colonel Bowie had written, too; and Lieutenant-Colonel Neill had brought word in person. What could 150, or 200 men, do against 2000? But scarcely had the appeals from Bejar been published in the San Felipe _Telegraph_, when on the night of February 26 a dispatch rider again galloped, horse afoam, into Gonzales. He bore a message from Bejar to the alcalde or anybody else in authority.
_To Andrew Ponton, Judge, and the Citizens of Gonzales_:
The enemy in large force is in sight. We want men and provisions. Send them to us. We have 150 men and are determined to defend the Alamo to the last. Give us assistance.
P. S.――Send an express to San Felipe with the news, night and day.
Aroused by the clatter of hoofs in the street, while he and Dick were getting ready for bed, Ernest had rushed out, curious, for now every hurrying horseman carried a fresh alarm.
Having delivered the message, the dispatch-bearer was sitting his horse in the gloom-enshrouded main plaza, and repeating his story to an ever-increasing group of citizens around him. Captain John W. Smith, the civil engineer of Bejar, who had guided Sion’s column to the attack, and now had taken up residence at Gonzales, was there; and Jacob Darst and others.