Crockett Dies, Bowie Knife in Hand (?)

The Magazine of American History With Notes and Queries of December 1883 published Confederate general Marcus J. Wright's profile of Davy Crockett, which ends with this stirring account of his death:

The scene is at the Alamo. The Alamo is surrounded by the army of Santa Anna, and but six of the Texan garrison are left alive. The garrison has surrendered; Crockett stands alone in an angle of the fort, the barrel of his shattered rifle in his right hand, and in his left his huge bowie knife dripping blood. There is a frightful gash across his forehead, while around him is a complete barrier of about twenty Mexicans lying pell-mell, dead and dying. Crockett's look and step are as undaunted and defiant as ever. The word of death is given. A dozen swords are sheathed in that brave heart, and Crockett falls and expires without a groan, a frown on his brow, and a smile of scorn and defiance on his lips. A fitting end to his heroic life.

Reuben Potter (1802–1890)

This was too much for Reuben Marmaduke Potter, a Texan and a noted authority on the Battle of the Alamo, and he wrote a response that was published a few months later. I like the fact that Potter applies some simple logic to dispute the account--it's surprising how rarely that is done.

The closing paragraph of the sketch of Col. Crockett in the December Magazine does great injustice to the defenders of the Alamo, while it unwittingly, I have no doubt, associates Crockett with the only group of skulkers found in that heroic garrison. The passage begins as follows: "The scene is at the Alamo. The Alamo is surrounded by the army of Santa Anna, and but six of the garrison are left alive. The garrison has surrendered."

This assertion is all wrong. Not a man of that garrison surrendered, but each one, Crockett among the rest, fell fighting at his post, except the few skulkers referred to. Even they did not surrender; but were dragged from their hiding-place and executed. The writer goes on to say: "Crockett stands alone in an angle of the fort; the barrel of his shattered rifle in his right hand, and in his left a huge bowie-knife, dripping blood. There is a frightful gash across his forehead, while around him is a complete barrier of about twenty Mexicans lying pell-mell dead and dying."

The assailants of the Alamo were infantry troops, armed with musket and bayonet, and during the minute, or half minute, which it must have taken Crockett to fell his twenty foes, who had more than twenty at their backs, it is singular that no soldier was able to shoot or pierce him; for a man who wielded a rifle-barrel in one hand, and a big bowie-knife in the other, however robust, must have been an awkward fencer. The passage then continues thus: "Crockett's look and step are as undaunted and defiant as ever. The word of death is given. A dozen swords are sheathed in that brave heart, and Crockett falls and expires without a groan, a frown on his brow, and a smile of scorn and defiance on his lips -- a fitting end to his heroic life."

Now what prevented those twenty swords from doing their office before Crockett got through with striking down twenty of his assailants? A good story, whether true or not, ought to have a spice of probability. All that is known about Crockett's death is, that, like his companions, he fell fighting at his post. Santa Anna was not accompanied by a corps of ubiquitous, all-seeing reporters, who could describe the last blow and last look of every hero who fell. Crockett's body was found, not in an angle of the fort, but in a one-gun battery which overtopped the center of the west wall, where his remains were identified by Mr. Ruiz, a citizen of San Antonio, whom Santa Anna, immediately after the action, sent for and ordered to point out the slain leaders of the garrison. In regard to the six last survivors, of whom the writer to whom I refer says Crockett was one, the fact from which the story has apparently grown is, that about half an hour, I think it was, after the capture and massacre, four, five, or six men of the garrison were found in one of the rooms of the Alamo, concealed under bundles of forage or some such substance. The discovery was reported to Santa Anna, who ordered the men to be shot, which was at once done; but it is needless to say that Crockett was not one of them. He was already dead at his post when those men were found. The defence of the Alamo and the fall of its garrison form one of the most heroic incidents in our history; but the true recollection of it is almost buried under fictions, which, from reaction, are liable to throw doubt on the real heroism of the narrative. The name of Crockett has been a fruitful nucleus for those incredible yarns, one of which contradicted his heroic death by bringing him to life in the mines of Mexico. His name seems to have a charm which can secure belief for any romance about him. The author of the article in question gives a truthful account of Crockett's home life, but has evidently been misled by some extravagant story-teller concerning his death.

NOTE: The lurid verbiage--"huge bowie knife dripping blood," etc.-- about the deaths of Bowie and Crockett, found in the account mentioned here and in the previous post, was taken from an article published in the Baltimore Gazette and Daily Advertiser on June 29, 1836. It was lifted verbatim and included in the 1837 edition of Davy Crockett's "autobiography," from whence it appears that later chroniclers borrowed it.

The Fall of the Alamo: March 6, 1836

Today is the 175th anniversary of the fall of the Alamo. An article in The Century magazine in 1884 gave the following evocative, if fanciful, description of that fabled last stand:

"Thermopylae had her messengers of death; the Alamo had none." The last one of the garrison went down under the violence of the Mexicans. Colonel Bowie, who was sick in bed at the fall of the fort, fired from his bed until his last shot was gone and he had a wall of dead about him; the Mexicans dared not approach, but shot him from a window, and, as the enemy came to his bed, nerving himself for a last effort, the dying Bowie plunged the deadly knife which bears his name to the vitals of the nearest foe, and expired. The gallant Colonel Travis fell mortally wounded, but was able on the approach of the foe to sit up. A Mexican officer attempted to cut off his head with a saber. Travis, with a death grasp, drew his sword, which he plunged into the body of his antagonist, both dying at the same moment. General Castrillon took Colonel Crockett, who stood alone in an angle of the fort, the barrel of his shattered gun in his right hand, in his left his huge bowie-knife, dripping blood. There was a fearful gash across his head, and at his feet a cordon of nearly twenty foemen, dead and dying. His captor, who was brave and not cruel, took his silvery-haired prisoner to Santa Anna, who flew into a rage, and at his command a file of soldiers shot down the dauntless Crockett. Santa Anna had given the most imperative orders that no prisoners should be taken.

As there are no known first-hand accounts of the death scenes of each of these heroes, the author evidently felt free to imagine the most dramatic scenes possible and then jot them down as history.

The line quoted by the author--"Thermopylae had her messengers of death; the Alamo had none"--is inscribed on the monument at the Alamo, and comes from a speech written by Thomas Jefferson Green on the fifth anniversary of the battle. It implies that there were no survivors, but in fact there were a number of them, as this reference points out: "nearly twenty women and children, who experienced the twelve days of siege leading to the final assault, were spared and allowed to return to their homes. The survivors also included Joe, the slave of William B. Travis. The best known Alamo survivor, Susanna Dickinson, was sent to Gonzales by Santa Anna with a warning to the Texans that the same fate awaited them if they continued their revolt.

Medical Students With Bowie Knives

A doctor, W.W. Keen, wrote an article for the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal in which he described the medical students of the 1850s and 1860s as rough and ready types--"a good deal beyond the 'Old Stone Age,' of course, but with some of its feral antagonisms still manifest."

The police and the medical students were far more intimately acquainted then than now. The professors, too, were frequently obliged to mediate between them. Rather often one of the Jefferson Faculty was hauled out of bed to haul a student in turn out of the lockup.

Their belligerency may be judged by a story told me by Dr. Weir Mitchell. It must have occurred shortly before 1860. A young man desired to enroll with him as an "office student." In questioning him as to his educational qualifications, Mitchell fortunately asked if he had any "accomplishments," whereupon he put his hand to the back of his neck, drew forth a bowie knife, and, without a word, implanted it deftly in the frame of Mitchell's window between two panes of glass. It is needless to add that he was referred to a more martial preceptor.

While I'm not sure I believe that tale--who can throw a knife that well?--it is true that there were many instances of medical students and doctors fighting with bowie knives, some of which I have recounted in earlier blog entries. To add another, here is an article from the New York Daily Times about two Southern medical students studying in New York City who had a fatal affray in 1853:

AFFRAY AT A MEDICAL COLLEGE

Tuesday afternoon an affray occurred at the Medical College, situated in Fourteenth street, near Third-avenue, between two medical students from the State of Virginia, by the names of DAVID E. BASS and WILLIAM IRVIN. The parties became more and more enraged at each other, and the result of the dispute was, that IRVIN drew from his breast pocket a large bowie knife, with which he stabbed his antagonist (BASS) three different times in his cheek and abdomen, the blade of the weapon penetrated to such a depth, that the wound will probably result in the young Southerner’s death. The wounded man was immediately conveyed to his boarding-house, in Tenth-street, near the Second-avenue, by his friends who procured medical aid, and he lacerated wounds were carefully dressed. Capt. HARTT and officers ELDER and ROBINS, of the Seventeenth Ward Police, made every effort to arrest the violent assailant, but were unsuccessful, and it is supposed he has fled the City. The origin of this serious difficulty is not yet known.

Bayonets and Blades in Late 19th-Century Warfare

Some cinematic scenes of the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78 with a cast of thousands and lots of bayonet action. No Russian language skills necessary.

The following article, "Surgical Experiences and Observations as an Ambulance Surgeon in Bulgaria During the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78," by Robert Pinkerton, was published in the Glasgow Medical Journal in August 1879. It contains some interesting observations on the use of the bayonet and other bladed weapons in modern battle.

DURING the late Russo-Turkish war, I was sent out by Lord Blantyre, as a surgeon, to assist the Turkish wounded, and in that capacity acted both independently, and attached to Ottoman Red Crescent ambulances, and also, for a short time, took charge for Stafford House Society of their hospitals at Philippopolis. The first point I would call your attention to is the fact that only very few of the wounded, in modern wars, are wounded by cuts or stabs, so few, indeed, that to one who reads, in newspaper accounts of battles, of desperate charges with the bayonet, of fearful hand-to-hand fights at the taking of redoubts, and so forth, where the imagination pictures the wounded from bayonet stabs at hundreds or more, the real number must appear absurdly, even incredibly, small. In the late Russo-Turkish war, where I had the opportunity of seeing thousands of wounded men, I am sure I did not see more than half a dozen suffering from sword, or sabre, or lance, or bayonet wounds. And all the enquiries I could make did not enable me to come across any one whose experience differed much from my own. 

Why is this? I suppose it is due to the recent improvements in the firearms with which troops are armed, especially the introduction of breech loading, by which the rapidity of fire can be so very much increased. In consequence of the ease and rapidity with which a soldier can load and fire his rifle now-a-days, the firing of shot takes place even at close quarters. Even in a regular charge, I believe, it is in great measure only those who fall wounded who are bayonetted -- the attacking party and the attacked both trusting more to a rapid fire of small arms than to the bayonet. In the case of an assault, for example, on an earthwork, the holders of the earthwork, if moderately cool and steady, pour in a close and murderous fire up to the very moment the enemy enter the defences, and although there then may be some little hand-to-hand fighting, it is comparatively trifling, as the defenders of the earthwork, if beaten, either retire precipitately, in which case they are fired upon, and only those who fall wounded are bayonetted by the pursuing enemy, or they retire slowly, showing a steady front and keeping up fire, so that the enemy prefer to answer them in like manner.

There is another reason why we see so few wounded by either cuts or stabs, besides the fact that in recent wars cuts or stabs are comparatively rarely given or received. And that is, that I believe the great majority of cases of cuts or stabs prove fatal on the field, and are, therefore, to be numbered among the killed. If you think for a moment of the circumstances of a close hand-to-hand conflict with the bayonet, a scene where the wildest passion reigns, and a tiger-like ferocity seems to characterise the combatants, where an enemy is not only overthrown, but trampled upon, you will see the reasonableness of allowing that few of those wounded under such circumstances, and with such a weapon, survive the final thrust, and hardly one lives to be taken off the field.

Then there is the fact that the bayonet is, after all, a clumsy and inefficient weapon for close quarters. In fact it not unfrequently acts as a sort of trap for its unfortunate employer. It may become fixed in an enemy's body beyond power of withdrawal, in time at least to be a defence; or it may be rendered useless by having a body hurled upon it, as was done with so much success by the Zulus at the recent battle of Isandula. Soldiers, at least Turkish ones, don't like the bayonet as a weapon; they distrust it; and, as a rule, prefer firing their rifle to using the bayonet. A weapon such as the short heavy knife with which our Indian Gurko regiments are armed, or the regulation bowie knife of the Americans, is the deadliest instrument in hand-to-hand fighting.

If you want to read the rest of the article, which covers bullet wounds, you can find it here.

The Jambiya, Part III

A variety of jambiyas such as the above are offered for sale at the Oriental Arms website.

The 19th century offers a great wealth of travel books, as  Europeans traveled to still-exotic foreign lands and described their impressions to their readers back home. Often these writers expound authoritatively on some aspect of the culture on the basis of a single observation, which may have been an anomaly, or which they may have misinterpreted. When reading them, we have to take what they say with a grain of salt--as we must with everything we read, now as much as then.

John Fryer Keane, in his Six Months in Meccah: An Account of the Mohammedan Pilgrimage to Meccah (1881), gives this description of the quality of the temper of the jambiya blade:

The only [weapon] worth description here is the Arab knife or jambiyah, with one of which most of our people had provided themselves. Jambiyahs are slightly different in make in different parts of Arabia, and are known by the names of the places that most affect the particular shape. The Meccah jambiyah is the broadest and most bent; the Mascat jambiyah is nearly straight, and about half as broad as the Meccan. The iron of the jambiyah is exceedingly soft, and sharpened by beating out the edge cold on a small anvil, shaped for this purpose only, the sharpening of jambiyah being a trade of itself. This gives the best edge I know for severing skin and hair, though of course when applied to anything hard it instantly disappears. With a newly-sharpened jambiyah a rolled-up sheepskin may be divided at one stroke.

In the same book, Keane describes coming across a corpse in the desert with severe wounds inflicted by a jambiya:

I saw before me on the ground the body of a man quite recently killed. It was that of a Maghribi, who had probably been separated from his caravan, preceding ours four days. This hardy native of the North African desert must have supported life, after losing his way, until the night before, when he had been encountered by Bedawi [Bedouin] and slain. The corpse was chiefly interesting to me as illustrating the frightful nature of the wound which the terrible jambiyah (Bedawi knife) will inflict. There was a gunshot in the head, and the body was much mutilated with sword-cuts; but the jambiyah wound would have been judged by any one not acquainted with the weapon to have been made with a broad axe. The thorax and abdomen were laid open from just below where the left collarbone joins the breastbone down to the left groin, and all the viscera interposed were severed as with a razor. While inspecting this interesting object I kept my eye on the rocks, and changed my shot charges for ball. I have no doubt the perpetrators of the deed were on the hill, but I rejoined the caravan safely.

Though Keane suggests that the steel of the jambiya was not tempered properly, another author of the period, Walter Harris, writes that well-tempered steel was highly prized. The following is from A Journey Through the Yemen and Some General Remarks Upon that Country (1893):

The greatest skill of the jewellers of Sanaa, who are rightly renowned for their workmanship, is exhibited in the dagger-sheaths, many of which are of rich silver-gilt, and even, at times, of gold. Perhaps the most lovely, however, are of plain polished silver inlaid with gold coins, principally of the Christian Byzantine emperors; others, again, of delicate filigree, which the natives line with coloured leathers or silks. But more than even the sheaths of these jambiyas, as they call their daggers, the natives value the blades. Antique ones are generally considered the best, and the people declare that the old art of hardening the steel has been lost. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that the modern blades are of no mean workmanship, and great prices, for the Yemen, are paid for good specimens. The two parts of the dagger are nearly always sold separately, and a Yemeni, having found a blade to suit him, has a sheath made according to his taste and wealth.

More on the Jambiya, the Arab Dagger

This magnificent replica of a 13th-century Moroccan-style jambiya and its sheath were made by master craftsman Chuck Burrows. See more about it here.

In my files I have a number of 19th-century references to the curved Arab dagger, the jambiya, and in the interest of taking a glance at other cultures in which the carrying of a large knife is traditional, I thought I’d pass them along. More to come tomorrow.

From Narrative of Voyages to Explore the Shores of Africa, Arabia and Madagascar (1833), by W. F. W. Owen:

Poor, indeed, must an Arab be, who is seen without a sabre hung over his shoulder and a dagger by his side. In richly embellishing the handles of these, he considers the few dollars he can manage to scrape together by painful self-denial, even of necessaries, well laid out.

From An Authentic Narrative of the Loss of the American Brig "Commerce" (1847), by James Riley:

The Moors . . . . were armed with daggers, or scimitars, suspended from their necks by a cord of red woolen yarn thrown over the left shoulder: the scabbards were such as I have before described. The dagger is worn outside of the haick [robe]; its handle is made of wood, handsomely wrought. The point of the dagger hooks inward like a pruning knife : when they have occasion to use it, they seize it with their right hand, the lower side of the hand being next to the blade, and strike after raising it above their heads, ripping open their adversary: they never attempt to parry a stroke with their daggers.

From Zanzibar, vol 1, (1872) by Sir Richard Francis Burton:

None but women and slaves leave the house unarmed. The lowest Arab sticks an old dagger in his belt, handles a rusty spear, or shoulders a cheap firelock. . . .  Jambiyahs, Khanjars, or daggers, worn strapped and buckled round the waist, are curved till the point forms almost a right angle with the hilt. It is a silly construction; but anything will serve to stab the enemy's back above the shoulders. The dudgeon of black or white rhinoceros or buffalo horn is adorned with a profusion of filigree-work, and silver or gold knobs; the blade, sharp on both sides, is nearly three inches broad at the base. The sheath ('Alá) is similarly ornamented  upon a ground of leather, cloth, or brocade, dark or scarlet, with the usual metal rings and 'fixings.' The Khanjar often costs $200, and a handsome dagger is a sign of rank.

A Khanjar

Antoine Barthelemy Clot (1793–1868) was a French physician who taught anatomy to medical students in early 19th-century Egypt--one of the first Europeans to do so. He was given the honorary title “Bey” and so was known as “Clot Bey.” One of the difficulties he had to overcome was the Muslim abhorrence of dissection of human remains. When Clot-Bey laid out a cadaver before his class and began opening it up, one fanatical student attacked him with his jambiya, slashing downward at his chest. According to his obituary in the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal:

The blade glanced upon the ribs. Clot-Bey felt that he was not seriously hurt. He drew a bandage from his case, and while adjusting it upon the wound, thus addressed the students: - "We were about to speak of the relations of the sternum and the ribs. I will now, however, explain to you why a blow from above, downward, is not likely to penetrate."

This proof of presence of mind gave him unlimited ascendancy over his pupils. He continued his course, and raised many students worthy of their master.

Dagger Wearers "More Handsome and Good-Looking"

The following story is from National Public Radio's Morning Edition program of September 25, 2008. It's an interesting, though brief, examination of the tradition in many Middle Eastern countries of carrying a dagger. The most popular style is a jambiya, with a curved blade.

I had always assumed that the value of rhinoceros horn lay in its use in traditional Asian medicine. In fact, though, it is its use as a high-status handle material for ceremonial daggers that has boosted its price.

One thing that strikes me about the jambiya compared to the bowie is that its design is far less utilitarian. Evidently, the "look" is what people go for. It is revealing that the most important aspect of the jambiya is the cost of the material used for the handle--the part that shows. Most Western knife aficionados judge a knife by the quality of the steel, the shape of the blade, the overall feel, and the ergonomics of the grip, with the material of the handle being chosen on utilitarian grounds.

 A jambiya vendor.

Yemeni Knives Mark Status, Masculinity
by Ivan Watson

In the West, clothes may make the man. But in Yemen, the ultimate status symbol is a good knife.

Yemeni men don't invest as much time and money as some American men do in finding the perfect cell phone, car, hunting rifle or flat screen TV. In this society, where tribal Arab traditions still dominate, men have a different method of showing off their wealth and social class - they wear short, curved daggers tucked into the front of their robes, in ornately embroidered belts.

Known locally as "jambiya," these ornamental knives may be the world's most phallic fashion accessory for men.

In the centuries-old market of San'a, Yemeni men who already proudly wear fine daggers, cluster around shop windows to gaze longingly at new jambiya blades.

A Status Symbol
"In Europe, people give importance to the tie or the suit you wear," explains Yaya Mohammed Sariya, a bearded man with wild eyes and thick-lensed glasses, who wears a jambiya worth thousands of dollars in his belt. "Here, people recognize that you come from a good family based on the jambiya you carry."

The men browsing here explain that in Yemen, the jambiya is an important symbol of masculinity.

Mohammed Jassim was hoping to buy a $300 knife for his 14-year-old son in time for Eid al-Fitr, the holiday that follows the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. Jassim took a moment from appraising new blades to give some friendly fashion tips to a foreign visitor. "If you wear a jambiya, it will be good," he said. "You will be more handsome and good-looking."

The knives are crafted in the winding back alleys of the Old City in San'a. Late at night, showers of sparks tumble onto the cobblestone walkways, as blacksmiths squat barefoot in cubbyhole workshops, hammering and grinding away at blades.

A Long History Of Knife-Making
According to the locals, the best of these knives are sold at Abdullah al Azeri's shop.

Azeri sits cross-legged on the floor, buffing the handle of a 350-year-old dagger that he says is worth more than $25,000. He says his family has been in the knife business for more than 1,000 years. "The handle is the most important part of the jambiya," he says. "The best ones are made of rhinoceros horn."

The export of the horns of the endangered rhino was banned long ago - a move that Azeri and his fellow jambiya enthusiasts resent to this day. "If there is an offer for thousands of tons of rhino horn, I will buy them," Azeri's son Adel vows.

Today, workmen carve the handles out of bull horn and other animal bones.

Some of the stalls throughout the market give off a golden glow at night from the reflection of the magnificent jambiya belts hanging on the walls.

A Marker Of Manhood
In the final days before the end of Ramadan, you can see proud fathers like Naif Mohammed tenderly strapping a new dagger, scabbard and belt onto the waist of his 7-year-old son, Bashir. Onlookers said the gift is a symbol of manhood for Yemeni boys.

Yemeni women toil at home, sometimes for months, embroidering the jambiya belts with golden thread. They then approach the shopkeepers dressed in all-concealing black robes, selling the belts out of plastic bags.

Abbas Ali, 17, says his mother has been sewing jambiya belts since she was 12. Though he has three knives and belts of his own, Ali appears to be one of the few Yemeni men who avoids wearing a knife in public. "I don't like it," Ali explains in rapid-fire English, while snapping his fingers. "When you have a belt, you can't work, you can't walk, you can't [move] fast around."

Ali also says that in the event of an argument, he wants to avoid the potentially fatal consequences of drawing his knife. Yemeni knife-sellers say the jambiya should be drawn only as a matter of last resort.

On one visit to the market, a jambiya blade flashed briefly in the sun when a man drew his knife during a scuffle outside the ancient Bab al Yemen gate. Fortunately, no blood was drawn -- and several men brandishing sticks chased away the knife-wielding man.