Susanna Dickinson - Alamo Survivor

Susanna Dickinson
Historical photo

Contrary to what a lot of folks believe, there actually were Texan survivors after the March 6, 1836 battle of the Alamo. Approximately eleven Mexican women and children, the wives and children of several Alamo defenders, survived the final assault. When the final battle began, Brigido Guerrero, who had deserted from the Mexican Army in December 1835 sought refuge in the sacristy (a room near the alter for keeping vestments, sacred vessels, and parish records) with the women and children and was spared after convincing the soldiers he was a prisoner of the Texans. A black man, Joe, Lt. Colonel Travis' 20-year-old personal slave, also survived. In addition to these fortunate few, two Caucasians survived, Susanna Dickinson, the 21-year-old wife of Texan defender Almaron Dickinson and their 15-month-old daughter, Angelina.

Susanna and Almaron were married in 1829 when she was only 15. Almaron, an early proponent of succession from Mexico, volunteered for the Texas Army and fought in the Battle of Gonzalez, the first armed conflict which launched the Texas Revolution. He later took part in a series of skirmishes which by late 1835 forced Mexican forces out of the San Antonio area. After being assigned to the Alamo garrison, Susanna joined Almaron and they lived in a house outside of the Alamo's grounds. 

On February 23, 1836, Mexican president Santa Anna led approximately 4,000 troops into San Antonio. For safety, Almaron quickly brought Susanna and little Angelina inside the walls of the Alamo. For the next 13 days, the Mexican army lay siege to the Alamo. During this time, Susanna cooked for the 189 defenders and cared for the wounded and sick.

At 5:30am the morning of March 6, Santa Anna gave the order to his troops to advance. Susanna, Angelina, and most of the other noncombatants gathered in the chapel sacristy. Later, Susana reported that Davy Crockett ran into the chapel and said a brief prayer at the alter before running into the battle. The Texans managed to beat back the first two charges, but the Mexicans breached the walls on the 3rd massive charge. During the next hour, there was a furious, bloody, savage battle, mostly hand-to-hand, in which the impossibly out-manned Texans fought for their lives. The last combatants to die were Almaron, the captain of the artillery and his 11 soldiers who were manning the two 12-pound cannons not far from the sacristy just inside the chapel. A few seconds before the final assault on their position, Almaron ran to his wife and said, "Great God, Sue, the Mexicans are inside our walls! If they spare you, save my child!" He kissed her and ran back to his post. 

The entrance to the chapel had been barricaded with sandbags, which the Texans were able to fire over, but a shot from the Mexican 18-pounder cannon destroyed the barricade and Mexican soldiers entered after an initial musket
volley. Dickinson's crew fired their cannons into the Mexican soldiers, killing and wounding a large number of them, but they had no time to reload. Dickinson, Gregorio Esparza, James Bonham (the 29-year-old 2nd cousin of Travis who came to the Alamo with Jim Bowie), and the remaining Texans grabbed rifles and fired before being bayoneted to death. Texan Robert Evans, the master of ordinance, had been tasked with keeping the gunpowder from falling into Mexican hands. Severely wounded, he crawled towards the powder magazine but was killed by a musket ball with his torch only inches from the powder. If he had succeeded, the blast would have destroyed the chapel, killing Susanna and the other women and children hiding in it. As soldiers approached the sacristy, the 8-year-old son of defender Anthony Wolf stood to pull a blanket over his shoulders. Four Mexican soldiers killed him with their bayonets.

Angelina Dickinson
Historical Photo

Mexican soldiers found Susanna huddled in the chapel and brought her to General Santa Anna. He spared her and the baby, then offered to adopt Angelina and have her educated in Mexico City. Susanna refused so he gave her $2 and a blanket and along with Joe, Travis' slave and Ben, a former American slave who was serving as a cook for the Mexican forces, dispatched them to the Texas army in Gonzales with demands that she spread the news of the destruction that awaited those who opposed the Mexican government.

After arriving in Gonzales on March 13, the three found Sam Houston and told him of the fall of the Alamo. They also told him of the number of Mexican forces and the armament they carried. She also told details of the 13-day siege, the final battle and the aftermath. Over the years, she stated:

•  There were very few causalities among the Texans during the first 12 days of almost unceasing bombardment from Mexican cannons. She confirmed the legendary "line in the sand" incident, where Colonel Travis gave defenders the choice of staying or leaving. 
• On the morning of the assault, Almaron ran into where she had hidden, made his final statements to her and then returned to his duty. She never saw him again, nor did she ever see his body.
• The two young sons of artilleryman Anthony Wolf,> ages eleven and twelve, ran to their father as the Mexican soldiers entered the chapel. She watched as they were bayoneted to death, along with their father.
• When she was discovered, a Mexican officer intervened. She believed he was a British mercenary named Almonte. He actually was Juan Almonte, who spoke perfect English, as he had been educated in New Orleans.
• Outside the chapel, there was a single survivor, found hiding, who unsuccessfully begged for mercy and was killed. Joe also reported this.
• She saw the body of  Davy Crockett lying among a number of Mexican bodies between the chapel and the barracks building.
• She saw the body of Jim Bowie with two dead Mexican soldiers lying beside him.
• She was taken to the house where she'd previously lived and from there could see the pyres of the dead Texans being burned.
• Santa Anna had her identify the bodies of all the commanders and main defenders.

Being illiterate, Susanna left no written accounts, but gave the same verbal recollections on several occasions. After Texas defeated Santa Anna and his forces at San Jacinto and won its independence, Susanna moved to Houston and married again the next year. She very quickly divorced him on the grounds of cruelty. She married again in 1838, but her husband died several years later of alcoholism. She married a man by the name of Bellows in 1847, but they divorced in 1857 after he found she was having an affair. Outraged at the scandal, members of the First Baptist Church objected to her attendance there. She voluntarily left the congregation.

Susanna married for the 5th and final time in 1858 to J. W. Hannig, a cabinet maker who was 20 years younger than her.  They moved to Austin and she remained married to him until her death there in 1883. She was buried in Oakwood Cemetery with her stone inscribed "Sacred to the Memory of Susan A. Wife of J. W. Hannig Died Oct. 7, 1883 Aged 68 Years." Some modern day researchers and analyst claim she probably suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD) due to her traumatic experience at the Alamo and this affected her path in life. Hannig followed her in death in 1890. The state of Texas added a marble slab above her grave on March 2, 1949. Because of her tarnished reputation, the marker simply reads “Mother of the Babe of the Alamo.” In 1993, a cenotaph honoring Susanna was placed in the Texas State Cemetery in Austin.

Susanna never had any other children. She gave her permission for Angelina, at the age of 17, to marry John Maynard Griffith, a farmer from Montgomery County. Over the next six years, the Griffiths had three children, but the marriage ended in divorce. Leaving two of her children with Susanna and one with an uncle, Angelina drifted to New Orleans where rumors spread of her promiscuity. She moved to Galveston and allegedly became a prostitute. She died at the young age of 35 in 1869, reportedly of a uterine  hemorrhage. She was buried in Galveston, but her grave site was lost in the Great Storm of 1900. 







One of the surviving Hispanic children, Alejo Pérez, Jr., was the son of Juana Alsbury and her husband, Alamo defender Alejo Pérez, Sr. He was brought into the Alamo by his mother and was seventeen days short of his first birthday at the time of the last assault. He grew up and lived his whole life in San Antonio, where he was later a policeman. He died on October 19, 1918, the last survivor of the Alamo.

Postcard from Fort Leaton

Marker at Fort Leaton

The area around the junction of the Rio Conchos and the Rio Grande rivers in far southwest Texas was first inhabited approximately 8,800 years ago according to archaeological evidence. From earliest times, humans have considered this to be a special place. Caches of stone tools and ceremonial arrowheads have been found throughout the area. The first Europeans, Spanish explorers,  came in the 1500's and with them, they brought diseases and illness' unknown to the native peoples, basically wiping them out. The Spaniards left and for the next 300 years, even though Spain continued to claim this land, they never settled it. Mexico won its independence from Spain and for the next 50 years, they claimed the land, but they didn't settle it either. Because it was so remote and rugged, everyone knew it as El Despoblado (the uninhabited land.)

There's a reason it was mostly uninhabited

In the 1800's, the Mescalero Apache and Comanche Indians came and ruled the land. During this time, in 1848, Ben Leaton purchased a shack and some land from a Mexican absentee owner, Juan Bustillos, and proceeded to build a 40-room adobe fortress around it. A former scalp hunter, Ben reached an uneasy truce with the Indians by providing them with food and weapons and encouraging them to raid Mexico where there ware many more cattle and horses. He paid them in goods for any stolen cattle they brought back. 

Leaton died in 1851 and his widow married Edward Hal who moved into the fort and took over the Leaton business. When he ran into financial trouble, he used the fort as collateral to borrow money from Leaton's ex-scalp hunting partner, John Burgess. When he defaulted on the loan, Burgess tried to evict Hal and his wife, but Edward refused to leave. He was found murdered not long afterward and there was no proof as to who killed him. The now twice widowed woman promptly moved out and was lost to history. John moved into the fort, but 10 years later was also found murdered. It was said that Ben Leaton's son did the deed in revenge, but he was never brought to trial and the death of Burgess was never solved and largely forgotten.

Be careful where you step

After the Civil War ended in 1865, military forts were established the Buffalo soldiers. mostly African-American cavalry, eventually drove the Indians out of the area and onto reservations far away. This allowed ranches to be established. Due to the scarcity of water and lack of forage, the ranches had to be large to sustain the cattle. The Chillicothe-Saucita Ranch covered 300,000 acres and when purchased in 1998 by the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, it became Big Bend Ranch State Park. The Lely Ranch encompassed 70,000 acres. (In case you are interested, as of this writing, it is uninhabited and for sale at an undisclosed price.)

Entrance side of Fort Leaton

Due to murders, financial difficulties and abandonment, the fort and surrounding land was deeded to the state of Texas in 1967. Rumors of the building being haunted didn't help finding anyone who would buy the property. (For the story of the haunting click here.) Located on FM 170,  Fort Leaton is today a Texas State Historical Site and is undergoing restoration. So far, 24 of the original rooms have been restored complete with cottonwood beams and the other 16 rooms are in various stages of restoration. The site contains historic ruins, nature trails, and exhibits and is open from 8:00AM - 4:30PM every day except Christmas. A Texas State Park Store gift shop is located on the grounds.

Restoration continues on the old fort

Postcard from Judge Roy Bean

Roy Bean (historical picture)

Roy Bean was born in Kentucky in the 1820's (nobody knows the exact year). By the time he became a teenager, her was getting into trouble, mostly for fighting. He and his brother, Sam, left home in 1847 and made their way south into Mexico. Not long after arriving, Bean was forced to flee to San Diego after he shot a man in a barroom fight. Once again though, he was soon forced to leave town after he shot a man during a quarrel. He fled to Los Angeles where he tried to be a law-abiding citizen, but within a year, he killed a Mexican officer in a duel over a woman. The officer wanted to duel with lances, but when the two men faced off, Bean pulled his pistol and shot the surprised officer. Angry friends of the officer kidnapped and hanged Bean in revenge, but luckily, the rope was new and it stretched far enough that Bean managed to stay alive standing on his tiptoes until the woman he had fought for arrived and cut him down. He bore rope scars on his neck for the rest of his life. Fearing the men who hanged him would try to finish the job, he left the woman behind and fled to a less risky life in Texas.

After making his way to San Antonio, Bean lived a somewhat quiet life (at least for him) as a business man. His main income came from selling milk door-to-door from a horse-drawn wagon. He married 18-year-old Virginia Chavez in 1866 and had four children by her, Roy Jr., Sam, Laura and Zulema. They also adopted a son named John. With a family to support, Bean soon found a way to increase his milk selling profits by diluting the milk with creek water. When the buyers started noticing minnows in the milk, Roy seemed as surprised as the buyers. "By Gobs," he said, "I'll have to stop them cows from drinking out of the creek." Eventually, his shady deals became so notorious that the neighborhood where he and his family lived became derisively known as "Bean Town."

In 1880, Bean divorced his wife, left her and the kids in San Antonio and moved 200 miles away to eventually settle in the railroad camp of Langtry in southwestern Texas where he opened a saloon and sold whiskey to the railroad workers. While in San Antonio, he had become enamored with the famous English actress Lillie Langtry. Even though the two never met, he named his saloon, the Jersey Lilly, after her and followed her life through numerous theater magazines he read.

The Jersey Lilly saloon and "courthouse"
(historical picture)

Over the next two years, Bean secured an appointment as a justice of the peace and notary public. He had a sign painted and hung on his saloon proclaiming himself to be the "Law West of the Pecos." Even though he knew little about the law or proper court procedures, throughout the years, he relied on a single law book, the 1879 edition of the Revised Statutes of Texas. When newer law books were sent to him, he used them as kindling. The area residents appreciated and accepted his common sense verdicts in the sparsely populated country of West Texas. For ten years, his claimed authority was not questioned and then, when the government insisted on holding elections, he was re-elected three times. Bean controlled the large territory between San Antonio 200 miles to the east and El Paso, 300 miles to the northwest.

Judge Bean maintained such a rough reputation that few, if any, challenged him. If anyone even thought about challenging him, they knew there was always a bunch of broke, thirsty cowboys hanging around the Jersey Lilly who would gladly do Roy's bidding for a shot or two of whiskey. One time, the owner of a Langtry restaurant owed Bean money. When he didn't pay up, Bean waited until the restaurant was full and with a six-shooter on his hip, he stood in the door and had each customer pay him for their meal. The last few customers paid what Bean claimed as the interest. The restaurant owner didn't protest.

Bean became widely known for his outrageous verdicts and fines. One time, a rich city slicker from back east was riding the rails to see the west when the train stopped to take on water in Langtry. The gentleman strolled into the bar and demanded a bottle of beer. Bean set one out for him. The customer ordered Bean to give him a glass, but he was told, "Drink it out of the bottle or leave it alone." The eastern dude took a drink from the bottle, looked up at a sign that read, "Ice Cold Beer" and asked, "How near the ice do you keep this beer?" Bean told him there ain't no ice in the summer time. The visitor dropped a $20 gold coin on the bar. Bean quickly grabbed it and put it in the cash drawer. When the dude inquired, "Where's my change?" Bean told him "Anybody who comes into my bar and puts down a $20 gold piece and expects to get change back must be crazy."But that's robbery!" the easterner protested. "Is there no law in this country?" "I'm the law," said Bean. He took off his bar apron, put on a long, black coat he called his judicial garment, mounted a low stage and sat down on a chair perched there, his chair of justice. "I find you guilty of disorderly conduct and fine you $10 and costs. The costs will be $9. Court is adjourned." He descended from the bench and said, "With the dollar for the beer, that makes $20 which has already been paid into the treasury of the honorable court. The prisoner is discharged, and you better run for that train as it's about to pull out and me and the boys don't harbor disorderly persons in this town." The poor easterner looked around at the large number of armed cowboys looking at him with unfriendly looks on their faces and decided to run for the train.

Judge Roy Bean and others in
front of the Jersey Lilly
(historical picture)

One day a cowboy lassoed a bear cub and brought it to Bean as payment on his bar tab. Chaining it to a post between the saloon and the train station, Bean charged rail passengers $1 to see the bear drink a beer. Within a few months, the creature became the bear equivalent of an alcoholic. Bean loved the bear, named it "Bruin" and made sure it had plenty to eat and plenty to drink. During one of his infrequent trips to San Antonio to see his children, a passenger on the train discovered Bean gone and, as a joke, sent a telegram to him saying, "The bear is dead." Several days later, a telegram came from Bean to his Mexican assistant which said, "Skin the bear. Save the skin." Knowing he better not question or delay an order from the judge, the assistant went over to the bear, killed it with a shot between the eyes and skinned it. When Bean returned, he looked at the skin drying on the wall of the saloon and said, "To bad. I'm sure going to miss the old boy." "Then why you have him killed?" asked the Mexican. When the judge discovered what had happened, he swore vengeance on the perpetrator if he ever came back to Langtry. Fortunately for the prankster, he evidently never came back through. Bean never really got over the reason for Bruin's death and he kept the bear skin in his bedroom. 

Another tale is about a railroad worker who fell from a bridge and died on the Mexican side of the river. Bean quickly got several men to go fetch the body and bring it to the Texas side. Going through his pockets, the judge found $40 and a six-gun. He immediately declared the corpse to be guilty of carrying a concealed weapon and fined him $40.

What few people know however, is that in spite of his "hard as nails" reputation, Bean actually had a soft side. Most of the fines he collected actually went quietly to the poor and destitute in the area. He also often took money he made from his saloon and bought medicine for the sick and injured. And the $40 he fined the dead man? It bought a casket, a headstone and paid the gravedigger's labor. He did, however, keep the six-gun and used it as a gavel. In spite of being known as a hanging judge, Bean never hanged anyone. He did sentence two men to hang, but secretly arranged for the guards to "accidentally" let the prisoners escape the night before the scheduled hanging. The two men never returned to the area to appear before Bean again. He also never sent anyone to the penitentiary. Instead, he sentenced law-breakers to take care of things that needed doing in Langtry such as repairing and painting buildings and people's homes, replacing rotting sidewalks in town, or cleaning and repairing outhouses. If nothing needed doing, he made them spend some time tied to a stake in the hot Texas sun.

After being the Law West of the Pecos for over twenty years, Bean was defeated in the 1896 primary by a Mexican candidate. Angry and bitter, even though he was over 70 years of age, Bean made it a point to visit every single person of voting age in the area and convinced them to vote for the candidate running against the Mexican who had beaten him in the primary. His man won in a landslide.

Inside the Jersey Lilly Saloon

After that election, Bean retired, but refused to give up his judge's seal. He continued to perform marriages for $5 (he always ended the ceremony with the phrase, "May God have mercy on your souls") and granted divorces for the same charge of $5, but he mostly lived off his savings. He continued to help the poor of the area and made sure the school house had free firewood every winter.

In 1902, Langtry began to decline when the highway was moved a few miles north of the town for a more direct east-west route. In early 1903, construction started on a power plant on the Pecos River. Bean complained that times were changing and he was being left behind. He took a trip to San Antonio where he engaged in an epic drinking bout and kept complaining about changing times. He became sick the next day and took the train back to Langtry. On March 19, 1903, he arrived in town at 10:00 AM, went directly home and died at 10:03 PM that same night. It is speculated he simply gave up the will to live. After such a rough and adventuresome life, Judge Roy Bean died peacefully in his own bed, with boots off, friends in attendance and the bear skin with a bullet hole between the eyes on the floor next to him.

The Jersey Lilly today

Lillie Langtry, the object of Bean's devoted, but one-sided adoration, visited the town just 10 months after his death. She went inside the saloon and Bean's house. She took two mementos when she left - a poker chip from the saloon and the six-gun Bean had taken from a dead man's pockets and used as his gavel. 

In the 1920's, the railroad closed its facilities, most all of the remaining jobs were lost and the town of Langtry began to dry up. Today, there is little there except some ruins, about a dozen residents living in isolated houses, the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center and the still standing Jersey Lilly saloon.