It Was One Of The Compromises Of

Nothing Fills Me With Deeper Sadness Than To See A Southern Man Apologizing For The Defense We Made Of Our Inheritance. Our Cause Was So Just, So Sacred, That Had I Known All That Has Come To Pass, Had I Known What Was To Be Inflicted Upon Me, All That My Country Was To Suffer, All That Our Posterity Was To Endure, I Would Do It All Over Again.

The Troops Of Other States Have Their Reputation To Gain, The Sons Of The Alamo Have Theirs To Maintain.

Without Doing Injustice To The Living, It May Safely Be Asserted That Our Loss Is Irreparable; And That Among The Shining Hosts Of The Great And Good Who Now Cluster Around The Banner Of The Country, There Exists No Purer Spirit, No More Heroic Soul, Than That Of The Illustrious Man Whose Death I Join You In Lamenting.

We Protest Solemnly In The Face Of Mankind, That We Desire Peace At Any Sacrifice, Save That Of Honor.

Our Armies Were In As Much Chaos In Victory As Theirs In Defeat.