blasts whistled around the corners and swept moaningly across the
Plaza. Silence reigned over the town. No sound of life was heard--the
shout of laughter, the shriek of pain, or wail of grief was stilled.
The voices of many who had ofttimes hurried along the now silent and
deserted streets were hushed in death. The eventful day had dawned
and set, the records of its deeds borne on to God by the many that
had fallen. Oh! when shall the millennium come? When shall peace and
good-will reign throughout the world? When shall hatred, revenge,
and malice die? When shall the fierce, bitter strife of man with
fellow-man be ended? And oh! when shall desolating war forever cease,
and the bloody records of the past be viewed as monster distortions of
a maddened brain? These things shall be when the polity of the world
is changed. When statesmen cease their political, and prelates their
ecclesiastical intrigues; when monarch, and noble, and peasant, alike
cast selfishness and dissimulation far from them; when the Bible is
the text-book of the world, and the golden rule observed from pole to
pole.

The 11th of December is marked with a white stone in the calendar of
the Texans. During the fortnight which elapsed from the engagement of
Conception, the Alamo had been closely invested by General Burleson,
and brief though bloody struggles almost daily occurred. The besiegers
numbered only eight hundred, while the fortress was garrisoned by
twenty-five hundred Mexican troops. Yet well-directed valor has ever
proved more than a match for numerical superiority. On the morning of
the 11th a desperate assault was made, a violent struggle ensued,
and ere long victory declared for the "Lone Star." With unutterable
chagrin General Cos was forced to dispatch a messenger bearing the
white banner of submission to the Texan commander, and night saw the
Alamo again in Texan hands, and General Cos and his disheartened band