May I tell you the
story of the second battle of the Alamo? In short form?
In about 1902,
Adina De Zavala, granddaughter of the first vice president of the Republic of
Texas and a spinster schoolteacher, was desperate to save the long barracks
adjacent to the chapel at the Alamo mission. That barracks, she insisted, was
where Texians and their comrades fought and died. When hotel developers from
the East seemed likely to buy the property, fortune brought heiress Clara
Driscoll to Adina. Clara provided the initial money to save the structure, and
together the two women launched an ambitious but unsuccessful fund-raising and
publicity campaign. With the help of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas, of
which they were both members, they finally succeeded, winning approval and
funding from the State of Texas. Theirs was a magic collaboration: Adina had
the passion; Clara had the money.
But the trouble
wasn’t over. Adina saw the barracks as an important symbol of Texas history; Clara
saw it as a shabby building that detracted from the glory of the chapel—never mind
that there was no fighting in the chapel. Their once friendly relationship deteriorated
into enmity, as each fought for her vision of the iconic mission’s future.
The DRT divided
into two factions, and their annual meetings became so contentious they
attracted the attention of state legislators and the amusement of newspaper
reporters. Eventually, Adina’s group, De Zavala’s Daughters, was ousted from
the DRT and she herself found it necessary to stage an occupation of the
barracks, one of the more dramatic episodes in the story.
Adina triumphed
but was so ostracized she was not allowed to savor her triumph. Both women went
on with their lives. Adina continued to exercise her passion for historic preservation,
traipsing all over East Texas looking for original missions and fighting to
save the San Antonio Governor’s Palace. Clara was never again involved in
historic preservation but was active philanthropically, wrote a novel and a
collection of short stories, both centered on her fascination with the Alamo,
and a drama set in Mexico. She became an international celebrity, hosting
lavish parties in her Austin home, and then took control of the family banking
and ranching empire when her father and brother died. The lives and
preoccupations of both women reflected the society in which they lived, including
its misogynistic and racist tendencies.
Adina pursued her
passion for preservation all her long life, living into her nineties. Clara
died, divorced, childless and alone, in her sixties. The two women never
reconciled.
Their battle
gained little attention, but the first battle spawned books, movies, songs, board
games, and collectibles. The movies, especially John Wayne’s version, provide
the most drama, even in the story of their filming. The story of the control of
the Alamo—or responsibility—is spotty. For a hundred years, the Daughters of
the Republic of Texas were in charge of maintaining the mission. But amid
charges of lax supervision and poor accounting, the Texas Land Office took over
the Alamo.
Today we may be
witnessing the third battle of the Alamo. The Texas Land Commissioner, George
P. Bush, has elaborate plans for improving the Alamo and making it more
attractive to tourists. Needless to say, his plans sparked wide controversy
from critics who accuse him of wanting to create a Disney spectacle, and the
reconstruction plans are years behind schedule. But Adina triumphed—the long
barracks survive today.
And that, my friends,
is the story I tell in The Second Battle of the Alamo. I found it
fascinating, and I hope you will too. Then I hope you’ll plan a trip to San
Antonio—it’s a lot more fun to see the Alamo when you know the full story.
