The Mexicans drew back a little, raised their muskets and fired an immense shattering volley.

When the smoke cleared away not a single Texan was standing, and then the troops rushed in with sword and bayonet.
It was nine o'clock in the morning, and the Alamo had fallen.

The defenders were less than nine score, and they had died to the last man.
A messenger rushed away at once to Santa Anna with the news of the triumph, and he came from the shelter, glorying, exulting and crying that he had destroyed the Texans.
Ned followed the dictator.

He never knew exactly why, because many of those moments were dim, like the scenes of a dream, and there was so much noise, excitement and confusion that no one paid any attention to him.

But an overwhelming power drew him on to the Alamo, and he rushed in with the Mexican spectators.
Ned passed through the sallyport and he reeled back aghast for a moment.
The Mexican dead, not yet picked up, were strewn everywhere.