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Presidio La Bahia

Amid the excitement at Gonzales, General Martin Perfecto de Cos marched from the coast toward San Antonio. A company of Texans in the vicinity of Matagorda, inspired by the revolutionary spirit, determined to give chase. The Texans were also inspired by rumors that Cos was carrying tens of thousands of dollars in silver to pay the troops and otherwise fund the suppression of Texan liberties. The rebels guessed that they could find much better uses for the silver. Some hoped, in addition, to capture Cos himself; as kin (if only by marriage) to Santa Anna, he ought to be a valuable hostage.

But Cos moved quickly, and by the time the company, headed by George Collinsworth (lately of Mississippi), hit the road, the Mexican general was out of reach. Rather than retire empty-handed, the company-numbering more than a hundred, including some thirty Tejanos-marched to La Bahia, or Goliad, as it had come to be called. The town's garrison consisted of a handful of officers and perhaps fifty men, none of whom were eager to risk their lives in defense of the post. Collinsworth sent a message to the largely Tejano civil authorities of the town, demanding that they surrender and encouraging them to join the rebellion. The civil leaders weren't any more eager than the soldiers to tangle with the rebels, but neither were they sufficiently convinced of the rebels' staying power to risk taking their part, despite the Texans' assurance that they were fighting not for independence but for the constitution of 1824.

As a result, Collinsworth and the Texans decided to storm the town. The attack took place on the morning of October 10, and was over in less than half an hour. The Mexican resistance was mostly perfunctory, so that the commander could say he had surrendered to superior force. The Texans captured an arsenal of small arms, including, in the words of a post-action inventory that partly explained the Mexicans' reluctance to fight: "too stands of muskets and carbines, some of which might be made serviceable by small repairs but the greater part are broken and entirely useless."

This action followed the Come And Take It incident at Gonzales, Texas, one week earlier that began the Texas Revolution. From here the Texans marched out in a detachment and captured Ft. Lipantitlan, near the Nueces River on November 5, thereby cutting off the last remaining line of Mexican communication from San Antonio to Matamoros.

More important than the Goliad arsenal was the location of the town, astride the main route from San Antonio to the sea. Cos might have traveled up the San Antonio River without a fight, but he wouldn't travel back down without one. Even more to the point, he wouldn't be reinforced except overland, across the hundreds of empty miles that had always made travel between Saltillo and San Antonio such a challenge. Cos held San Antonio, but San Antonio simultaneously held Cos.

Benjamin Rush Milam had just turned a prickly forty-eight when he reached Texas in time to help Collinsworth and his volunteers secure Goliad. On the dawn of December 5, three hundred followers divided into two divisions, one led by Milam and the other by Francis W Johnson, stormed into the city. Meanwhile, Burleson's artillery commander, James C. Neill, opened fire on the Alamo and the remainder of the volunteers kept most of Cos' army occupied there. The Texans rapidly took part of the city, including the Garza house and Veramendi palace, home of the vice governor, and fortified and connected them with trenches. On the sixth the volunteers made slow progress, while getting bogged down in house-to-house combat. Milam never enjoyed those urban pleasures he had alluded to, shot through the head by a sniper before the ten-foot portal of the Veramendi palace on the seventh. On the eighth Cos' garrison received more than six hundred reinforcements, but most of them were conscripts who wanted none of the fight, and Burleson committed a hundred more volunteers to the battle.

When Cos was unsuccessful at overrunning the Texans' camp he withdrew into the Alamo, but then four companies of his cavalry deserted. When volunteer Bailey Hardeman materialized with a captured eighteen-pounder that was trained on the fortress, Cos asked for terms early on the ninth. Burleson accepted his surrender, but unable to feed several hundred prisoners, he extended them parole - as had become the Texan habit - to return to Mexico, on their word not to reenter Texas under arms. After they departed, no hostile Mexican troops remained in the Anglo colonies.

The first Declaration of Texas Independence, boldly stating the intentions of these settlers of Texas, was formally declared at the Presidio on December 20, 1835. It was signed inside "Our Lady Of Loreto Chapel", this centuries-old chapel was where Fannin's men were held during part of their captivity before being massacred. Nothing short of full independence from Mexico would satisfy those who had suffered under the injustices of a dictatorial government led by the self-styled "Napoleon of the West", General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna.

As Sam Houston led his dispirited army east, James Fannin remained at Goliad - bravely renamed Fort Defiance. He did not receive Houston's order to retire eastward until March 14, and he delayed his departure even longer to await the return of two units who were out on operations. While Fannin was anxiously watching for the arrival of Jose Urrea and his army, eighty-odd local Tejanos who resented Fannin's occupation enlisted under Carlos de la Garza as a kind of advance cavalry for Urrea. In company with Karankawa Indians, the De la Garza force began looting the ranches of Anglo settlers near Refugio, thirty miles south of Goliad. Fannin sent out Captain Amon B. King on March 11 to round up the Americans and escort them back to Goliad. King and his thirty or so men effected this by the following day, but rather than obey orders and return to Goliad, King learned that a force of Tory rancheros were camped on a ranch less than ten miles distant, and he moved to attack them. Instead, King was himself ambushed by De la Garza, in company with advance units of Urrea's army.

King sent back to Goliad for reinforcements. Fannin, his anxiety increasing, sent out the Georgia Battalion under Colonel William Ward, who managed to rescue King and his men. Astonishingly, King refused to return to Goliad-he still wanted to fight. Ward and King had a hot disagreement over who was in charge, and while Ward waited in Refugio's ruined mission, King took a mixed bag of men out on a sortie. On March 15 they killed eight encamped Mexicans, only to discover that Urrea had cut off their escape route. King's firefight with Mexican regulars lasted until dark, when the Texans attempted a getaway across the Mission River. During the crossing their gunpowder got wet, and De la Garza easily captured them the following day. On March 16, after some local ranchers and Germans were separated out, King and a couple dozen followers were marched about a mile north of the mission, lined up, and shot. Ward, meanwhile, had borne the brunt of Urrea's assault at the ruined mission, inflicting heavy casualties on the Mexican army-perhaps forty killed and over a hundred wounded. Ward and most of his men slipped away during the night of March 14, but by the time they made their way to Victoria, Urrea had already occupied the town and moved on to attack Fannin at Goliad. Ward surrendered his force at Dimmitt's Landing on March 22.

Amon King's fatal attempt at vainglory had cost Fannin two days' delay and about 20 percent of his force. Fannin now compounded the disaster with stupefying errors of his own. Indecisive and unsure of himself, Fannin refused to budge until he learned of King's defeat, and then he hesitated another day, calling a council of war, and preparing baggage wagons. Houston had ordered him to sink his cannons in the river; Fannin hitched them to oxen so underfed they could barely walk. When Fannin finally left Goliad on March 19, Urrea was entering the town with six hundred fresh reinforcements from Santa Anna. As Urrea overtook him, Fannin was within a mile of timber and water along Coleto Creek, from where he could have mounted a successful defense. As his officers remonstrated hotly with him to get to cover, Fannin ordered a defensive square formed on the prairie, with his cannons at the corners as Urrea, incredulous at Fannin's stupidity, himself took possession of the nearby cover.

Urrea decided to attack before Fannin could finish his barricades. "In order to obtain a quick victory," he wrote in his diary, "I ordered my troops to charge with their bayonets at the same time that Colonel Morales did likewise on the opposite flank, [while] the central column advanced in battle formation." Attacked from three sides, Fannin fought back skillfully; he "quickly placed three pieces of artillery on this side, pouring a deadly shower of shot upon my . . . column. A similar movement was executed on the left, while our front attack was met with the same courage and coolness." Repulsed once, Urrea determined to prevent Fannin from finishing his entrenchments and placed himself at the head of a second charge. Fannin, he wrote, "received me with a scorching fire from their cannons and rifles." Urrea began the battle with four rounds allowed per soldier, and was counting on his supply train to replenish ammunition shortly, but when it failed to appear Urrea was forced to break off the action. Fannin's men spent the night fortifying their position, but on the morning of March 20 the Mexican supply train, with artillery, arrived. Nine Texans had been killed and about fifty, including Fannin, wounded-perhaps a fourth as many casualties as they inflicted on Urrea's army. Urrea fired a few rounds of grape and canister-just enough to let Fannin know that his situation was hopeless, and Fannin, shot in the thigh, limped out under a white flag to inquire into surrender terms.

Negotiations were difficult at first, as there was little bilingualism on either side, but proceeded once it was discovered that one of Fannin's men, a German named Herman Ehrenberg, could speak with Urrea's engineer, Juan Jose Holzinger, who before he became a soldier of fortune had once been Johann Joseph Holzinger of Mainz. The specifics of the surrender have long been controversial. The document that Fannin signed shows clearly that the Texans surrendered "at discretion," and Urrea's handwritten endorsement reinforces that "I must not, nor can I, grant anything else." But accounts state just as clearly that additional verbal inducements were made. Urrea assured him that Mexico did not execute prisoners of war. Holzinger assured them of parole. "Gentlemen," he said, "in ten days, liberty and home." Back inside Fannin's barricade, the men knew their position was hopeless, and for many of them, especially the new arrivals from the United States who labored under volunteers' lack of ardor for an adventure gone bad, the thought of being deported back home was a small price to pay for their ill- conceived lark. Fannin could not bring himself to actually tell them that they were surrendering at discretion.

Once the surrender was concluded, the Texans were taken under guard back to Goliad, joining the scattered remnants of Ward's command and other rebels rounded up in the area, making a total number of over four hundred. Urrea pondered how to navigate. He was already on Santa Anna's bad side over the order for no quarter, having sought to evade executing Texans taken around San Patricio and leaving their fate to others. Aside from his own generous nature, he was also influenced by Holzinger, who had saved more than two dozen of Ward's men with a claim that he needed them to transport artillery. Amon King's own bloodthirsty truculence eased Urrea's way to having him and his men shot, although Holzinger ferreted out two Germans among them and had them spared as well. Ironically, Holzinger was a favorite of Santa Anna's, having designed the dictator's mansion at Manga de Clavo some years before, but it is doubtful that even he could have interceded for Fannin. In his report to Santa Anna, Urrea praised the valor of arms of his own troops, and then put in a good word for Fannin. "Immediately upon the surrender of the enemy, their fury was changed to the most admirable indulgence. This show of generosity after a hotly contested engagement is worthy of the highest commendation, and I can do no less than to commend it to Your Excellency." Urrea then moved on, with his operations, to Victoria, hoping to look busy and avoid the dictator's fury that was sure to follow. Fannin was permitted to accompany Holzinger to Copano to book passage for his men on a ship back to the United States.

March 26 was a difficult day for the junior colonel whom Urrea left in command at Goliad. Jose Nicolas de la Portilla was twenty-eight, a native of Jalapa, and a mestizo so darkly complected that he was known by the sobriquet of "El Indio." He intended upon a military career, and the last place he wanted to be was between two feuding generals. During the day, Holzinger and Fannin returned from Copano, where they had discovered that the ship with which Urrea intended to repatriate the Americans had already sailed. When Santa Anna read Urrea's report that he had Fannin's men prisoner in Goliad, he was apoplectic. Ignoring Urrea, he wrote straight to Lieutenant Colonel Portilla. "The supreme government has ordered that all foreigners taken with arms in their hands, making war upon the nation, shall be treated as pirates. I have been surprised that the circular . . . has not been fully complied with in this particular." Fannin and his "detestable delinquents . . . having had the audacity to come and insult the republic," should be put to death, without delay. Santa Anna's courier clattered into Goliad at seven in the evening. An hour later, a messenger arrived from Urrea. "Treat the prisoners well," he ordered, "especially Fannin. Keep them busy rebuilding. . . . Feed them with the cattle you will receive from Refugio."

Portilla allowed the prisoners a ration of beef, and tortillas that they were permitted to barter from their guards in exchange for their personal effects. It was virtually the first food they had had in days, which had led to speculation among the captives that the Mexicans were deliberately starving them into a riot as an excuse to kill them. Portilla let one man into his confidence, Colonel Francisco Garay, Urrea's second in command, and sadly made up his mind.

March 27 was Palm Sunday. Early in the morning Garay awakened some doctors and men who had acted as nurses among the American prisoners and ordered them to his camp about a quarter of a mile away. At about the same time Francisca Alvarez (one of several possible spellings), the wife of a Mexican officer and later known as the "Angel of Goliad," acting in concert with Garay, rounded up as many prisoners as she safely could and hid them in odd corners of the compound. When Portilla appeared with the bulk of the garrison, word spread among the prisoners that they were going to be marched to Matamoros. The wounded, including Fannin, were left at the chapel.

As the Americans were organized into three groups, it was noticed that the soldiers were wearing parade uniforms, and carried no gear to indicate a lengthy march. Upon departure it was also noticed that the units were being led in different directions. The group containing Ehrenberg, who had translated the surrender talks, was walked a short distance down the Victoria road, then told to halt near the line of a mesquite thicket bordering the San Antonio River. No sooner were they ordered to kneel than the firing began, almost simultaneously with the execution of the other two groups.

Back at Goliad, the distant volleys could have only one meaning, and the American medics at Garay's headquarters became alarmed. "Gentlemen, keep still," Garay told them. "You are safe. These are not my orders, nor do I execute them." His intention, if questioned, was to claim that they had been taken without arms. Among them were Jack Shackelford, who had led seventy volunteers calling themselves "Red Rovers" from Alabama to Texas, and J. H. Barnard, who lived to relate that Fannin was not so lucky as they - he and the other wounded men were lined up against the wall of a small courtyard just west of and fronting the chapel where they had been confined. The soldiers returned to the fort and executed the wounded that were in the chapel. There were about forty of them. They were then shot as they laid on the ground.

Fannin had three requests: he entrusted his money and his watch to the officer in charge, asking that it be sent to his wife, and he asked that he be shot in the heart and given a Christian burial. He was instead shot in the face and cast onto the pyre with the rest. Texan dead from the Goliad massacres numbered between 340 and 390. A total of 28 escaped the rural fusillades, either feigning death beneath the corpses of their comrades, or dashing into the thickets along the river and eluding pursuit.

The darkest day in Texas history came a week after their capture at the Battle of Coleto Creek. Nothing had touched the raw nerve of the American character, as did the news of the large number of men who were killed in the Goliad massacre. As the grim news reached the United States, volunteers streamed forth for the people of Texas who were engaged in a war with a dictator who took no prisoners - a war of extermination. This one single event, the Goliad Massacre, more than any event in the Texas Revolution proved to the people of the United States what manner of warfare confronted the Texans. Ironically, if Urrea had had his way and the Americans had been repatriated, the effect would likely have dampened American enthusiasm for the Anglo cause in Mexican Texas. Instead, Santa Anna created a pantheon of martyrs, leaving enough survivors to pump the bellows of independence. When later confronted about the mass execution, Santa Anna blamed the entire affair on Portilla.

Presidio La Bahia, designated a National Historic Landmark, is considered the World's finest example of a Spanish frontier fort. This is the most fought over fort in Texas history, having seen participation in six National Revolutions / Wars for independence. Spanish, Mexican and Texas soldiers all garrisoned its fortified walls. Here, at this Crossroads of Revolution, was felt almost every attempt to forcibly change the governmental order of Texas.

Presidio La Bahia is a fort, not a mission. The chapel was erected de the quadrangle for the sole use of the soldiers and Spanish settlers living in the town of La Bahia surrounding the fort. The name given the chapel was "Our Lady of Loreto", and is the oldest building in the' compound in continuous use since the 1700s.

One of the oldest churches in America, it also is one of the only buildings in existence that has its original "groin vaulted ceiling" in place. After the Texas Revolution of 1836, while other buildings of the Presidio fell into neglect and disrepair, the chapel was still used as a place of worship, and at one time was temporarily used as a private residence. An act of the Republic of Texas in 1841 restored church properties confiscated by the Republic. It was not until 1855 that the first non-Hispanic Bishop of Texas, Bishop J.M. Odin, received title from the Town Council of Goliad. The Presidio was restored in the 1960s to stand as a lasting memorial beside its sister shrines, the Alamo and San Jacinto. Today it is considered one of the most authentic restoration projects in the United States.

William C. Davis. . Free Press. 2004. H.W. Brands. . Doubleday. 2004. James L. Haley. . Free Press. 2006.

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