Travis had been killed at the northwestern angle of the parapet, while working one of the cannon defending a small breach that had been made. After repeated attempts, General Amador succeeded in scaling the walls at this point, and a swarm of Mexicans followed him. Under Morales and Miñon, the outer defenses of the stockades had been occupied, the cannon captured, and the defenders forced to retire to the main part of the Alamo and the long barracks attached. The Texans soon fired their last shots, then swung their clubbed rifles against the mobs that pressed upon them with bayonet and sword. As these drove the Americans against the walls, their keen-edged knives were drawn for a moment of desperate conflict before they fell dying one by one. Bowie was lying in an almost helpless condition in an upper room of the barracks, but when the enemy rushed in upon him he shot down several with his pistols before he was despatched. Bonham, who had been one of the most active of the garrison, had been killed while loading a cannon. Crockett had retreated with the others into the plaza in which the long two-story barracks opened. The last that is known about him is that his mutilated body was seen near the main walls of the Alamo by Mrs. Dickinson, whose life was spared by the Mexicans. The story of his capture behind a pile of dead men, whom he had killed before being overpowered, is not true. Like most of his companions, he died in his tracks, disdaining to ask for quarter. A few of his comrades are known to have attempted escape by hiding in the barracks, an act which was entirely justifiable, for the fighting was over, and longer resistance was useless. The Mexicans stood at last within the walls of the Alamo, surrounded by the dead, with no hand raised against them. The conflict had been terrible, but was soon over. It was yet an hour before the rising of the sun upon the plains when the calm, sweet notes of a bugle sounded from the midst of drifting smoke above the captured fort. The bands without were hushed, and the fierce Degüello was no longer needed to incite to fury and frantic assault. The Lone Star flag that had been so proudly raised upon Washington’s Birthday lay trampled in the dust, and in its stead the tri-color of Mexico flaunted in the morning breeze. There was a rolling of drums as the victorious Santa Anna appeared before the open gates of the Alamo. Five men who had secreted themselves in the barracks were brought before him. Their captors asked what disposition should be made of the prisoners. For answer Santa Anna wheeled his horse until his back was turned. Disregarding all the tenets of military discipline, the guard about him broke ranks and fell upon the captives like a pack of wolves, and in a moment’s time the last of the defenders of the fort had gone to his final accounting.