The news of the fall of the Alamo, and
the entire destruction of its brave defenders, soon spread
throughout Texas. It now became necessary that the army of the
young Republic should retreat before the advance of the large
force under Santa Anna, and make a stand against him in the
eastern part of the country. Accordingly, General Houston, who
was at the time at Gonzales, issued orders that the scattered
troops should fall back and unite at some more favorable
place. In this retreat the two armies had frequent skirmishes,
in some of which the Texans gained signal advantages.
Colonel Fannin, who was stationed at
Goliad with three hundred men, began his retreat. Thinking
that the enemy would not pursue him, he was not sufficiently
on his guard, and was overtaken at the Coleta Creek, about
thirty miles east of Goliad, on the 20th of March. He and his
men were in an open prairie, and the infantry and cavalry of
the enemy were concealed in the timber near the creek. The
enemy's cavalry, coming up within a quarter of a mile,
dismounted, and began to advance and fire. Fannin ordered his
men to reserve their fire and to lie down in the grass. The
Mexicans having now come within one hundred yards, the Texans
opened a fire of rifles, muskets and artillery. Fannin here
received a flesh wound in the leg.
While thus engaged with the Mexican
cavalry on their right flank, they suddenly discovered the
enemy's infantry, one thousand strong, advancing on their left
and rear, and concealing themselves in the long grass.
Whenever they would rise to shoot, and show their heads, the
Texas rifles generally took them down. The battle soon became
general. The Texans having no water to sponge their cannon,
the pieces soon became so hot that they could not use them,
and they were forced to rely wholly on their small arms. With
these they kept up the fight from one o'clock until sundown.
At dusk, a party of Camanche Indians, who had joined the
Mexicans, were placed in the high grass, about thirty yards
from the Texans, from which they poured a destructive fire.
But, as soon as it became sufficiently dark for the Texans to
see the flash of their guns, they seldom flashed twice from
the same place. A little after dark, the enemy drew off their
troops.
The Texans lost, during the day, seven
killed and sixty wounded. The enemy's loss must have been five
times as great.
The Mexicans took position, during the
night, in the skirt of the woods. Early in the morning they
renewed the attack, and, arranging their whole force in the
most imposing manner, surrounded the little band of Texans
with overwhelming numbers. Fannin and his officers now held a
consultation, and it was the opinion of the majority that they
should surrender. A white flag was raised, and terms were
agreed on. It was stipulated that the Texans should be
received as prisoners of war, and in eight days should be sent
to the coast and shipped to the United States. This agreement
was reduced to writing in both the English and Spanish
languages, read over two or three times, and the writing
exchanged "in the most formal and solemn manner."
The Texans immediately stacked their arms, and such of them as
were able to walk, were marched back to Goliad on the same
day. At Goliad they were crowded into the old church, with no
other food than a little beef, without bread or salt. Some
other prisoners were also brought in who had been captured at
other points. Here they were kept until the 27th of the month,
expecting every day to leave for the United States. The
prisoners were spending the evening of the 27th in the most
pleasant manner. Col. Fannin was entertaing his friends with
the prospect of a speedy return to the United States; and some
of the young men, who could perform well on the flute, were
singing "Home, Sweet Home." Alas! how little they
knew of the sad fate that was awaiting them. At seven o'clock
at night, a courier arrived with an order from Santa Anna,
that the prisoners should all be shot! Accordingly, on the
next morning at the dawn of day, the Texans were awakened by a
Mexican officer, who said he wished them to form a line that
they might be counted. The men were marched out in several
divisions, under different pretexts. Some were told that they
were to be taken to Copano, to be sent immediately home;
others, that they were going out to kill beeves; and others
again, that they were being removed from the church to make
room for Santa Anna and his suite. Dr. Shackleford, who had
been reserved as a surgeon for the wounded Mexicans, and was
invited to the tent of a Mexican officer, a little distance
from the fort, says: "In about half an hour we heard the
report of a volley of small arms on the east of the fort. I
immediately inquired the cause of the firing. The officer
replied that he did not know, but supposed it was the guard
firing off their guns. In about fifteen or twenty minutes
after, another such volley was heard directly south of us. At
the same time I could distinguish the heads of some of the men
through the branches of some peach trees, and could hear their
screams. It was then, for the first time, that the awful
conviction seized upon our minds, that treachery and murder
had begun their work. I then asked the officer if it could be
possible they were murdering our men. He replied that it was
so, but that he had not given the order, neither had executed
it. In about an hour more the wounded were dragged out and
butchered. Col. Fannin was the last to suffer. When informed
of his fate, he met it like a soldier. He handed his watch to
the man who was to kill him, and requested him to shoot him in
the head, and not in the back. He then seated himself in a
chair, tied a handkerchief over his eyes, bared his bosom, and
received the fire.
As different divisions were brought to
the place of execution, they were ordered to sit down with
their backs to the guard. A young man, of the name of Fenner,
rose on his feet, and exclaimed, "Boys, they are going to
kill us--die with your faces to them, like men!" At the
same time, two other young men, swinging their caps over their
heads, shouted at the top of their voices, "Hurrah for
Texas!"
Many attempted to escape; but most of
those who survived the first fire were pursued by the cavalry
and cut down. It is believed that twenty-seven of those who
were marched out to be slaughtered made their escape, leaving
three hundred and thirty who were butchered in cold blood. The
dead were then stripped, and their naked bodies thrown into
piles, and though an attempt was made to burn them, it did not
fully succeed, and many of them were left a prey to dogs and
vultures.
Peace to the ashes of these noble
martyrs of liberty! They did not fall in vain. A cry for
vengeance arose to Heaven. It rung through the land, and a
terrible retribution overtook the cruel murderer and his army
at the battle of San Jacinto.
