March 27, 1836. Palm Sunday. It’s a day that still carries a heavy, somber weight in Texas history, even if it’s often overshadowed by the more "cinematic" fall of the Alamo. If you ask a random person on the street about the Texas Revolution, they’ll probably mention Crockett or Bowie. But ask who was in the Goliad Massacre, and you’ll get a much shorter list of names—if you get any at all. That’s a shame. Honestly, what happened at Goliad was arguably more brutal, more legally complex, and more pivotal to the eventual Texan victory at San Jacinto than almost any other event in 1836.
It wasn't a fair fight. It wasn't even a fight. It was an execution.
Over 400 men—mostly volunteers from the United States who had come to fight for Texas—were marched out of Presidio La Bahía under the impression they were going home. Instead, they were lined up on the road and shot at point-blank range. This isn't just about James Fannin, the commander who has shouldered a lot of the historical blame. It’s about the Georgia Battalion, the Alabama Red Rovers, and the New Orleans Greys. It’s about the "Angel of Goliad" who risked her life to hide survivors.
James Fannin: The Man at the Center of the Storm
You can't talk about who was in the Goliad Massacre without starting with Colonel James Walker Fannin Jr. History hasn't always been kind to him. He was a West Point dropout with a bit of an ego, and his indecision in the weeks leading up to the massacre basically sealed the fate of his men. Sam Houston had ordered him to retreat from Goliad to Victoria. Fannin wavered. He waited for troops that weren't coming. By the time he finally moved, the Mexican army, led by General José de Urrea, was already on top of him.
Fannin’s command was a messy mix of volunteer units. Most of these guys weren't even "Texians" in the legal sense yet; they were adventurous young men from the Deep South who saw the Texas Revolution as a grand cause (and a chance for land).
During the Battle of Coleto Creek, Fannin was wounded. His men were surrounded in an open prairie with no water and no cover. They surrendered under the impression they would be treated as prisoners of war and eventually paroled back to the United States. Urrea actually seemed to want this outcome, too. He wrote to Antonio López de Santa Anna, the Mexican dictator, asking for clemency. But Santa Anna wasn't interested in mercy. He cited the "Tornel Decree," which viewed all foreigners fighting against the Mexican government as "pirates" to be executed.
Fannin was the last to die. He was seated in a chair because of his wounds, blindfolded, and shot in the face. His final requests—to be given a Christian burial and for his watch to be sent to his family—were ignored. The soldiers took the watch, burned his body with the rest, and left him in a ditch.
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The Units: Georgia, Alabama, and Beyond
To really understand who was in the Goliad Massacre, you have to look at the regional makeup of the volunteers. This wasn't a professional army. It was a collection of militia groups.
The Red Rovers (Alabama)
Led by Dr. Jack Shackelford, the Red Rovers were famous for their distinctive red fringed hunting shirts. They were mostly from Courtland, Alabama. Imagine being Shackelford—he had to watch his own son and two nephews executed while he was spared because the Mexican army needed his medical skills. It’s a level of trauma that’s hard to wrap your head around.
The Georgia Battalion
Under William Ward, these men had been sent to help defend Refugio. After a series of skirmishes, many were captured and brought back to Goliad just in time for the execution. The Georgia volunteers were instrumental in the early days of the campaign, but their division from Fannin’s main force at Coleto was a tactical disaster.
The New Orleans Greys
While many of the Greys died at the Alamo, a significant portion of them were also with Fannin. These were some of the first volunteers to arrive in Texas, and they were arguably the best-equipped and trained out of the whole lot.
The Survivors and the "Angel"
Not everyone died. About 28 men managed to escape the firing squads by running for the Guadalupe River or hiding in the tall grass. Others were spared because of their specific skills.
Francita Alavez is a name you should know. She was the "Angel of Goliad." As the wife (or companion, historical records vary) of a Mexican officer, she intervened personally to save several men. She hid some, pleaded for the lives of others, and provided medical care. Without her, the death toll would have been even higher.
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Who else survived?
- Dr. Joseph H. Barnard: Spared to treat Mexican wounded. His diary is one of our best primary sources for what actually happened inside the fort.
- Herman Ehrenberg: A young German volunteer who literally ran for his life as the smoke cleared from the first volley. He later wrote a vivid account of the massacre that helped shape the narrative in Europe and the U.S.
- John Crittenden Duval: He survived the shooting and the swim across the river, eventually becoming a famous Texas writer.
The Brutal Reality of the Execution
Let’s get into the weeds of how this actually went down because the "how" tells you a lot about the "who." On that Sunday morning, the prisoners were divided into three groups. They were told they were going to gather wood or march to the coast.
They were marched out in different directions.
One group went toward the San Antonio river.
One went toward the Victoria road.
One went toward the "lower road."
The Mexican guards, under orders from Colonel José Nicolás de la Portilla, stopped the men and opened fire at point-blank range. Those who weren't killed by the initial shots were hunted down with bayonets and lances. It was systematic. It wasn't "heat of battle" violence; it was administrative killing.
Why We Get the Numbers Wrong
Historically, the number of deaths is usually cited around 342, but the total number of Fannin’s command was closer to 450. When people ask who was in the Goliad Massacre, they often forget the men killed at Coleto Creek or those who died in the weeks following the execution.
Some men were kept behind as laborers. Others were doctors. A few were carpenters. The Mexican army needed infrastructure, and they weren't about to kill the only people who knew how to fix a wagon or set a bone. This selective mercy created a strange, haunted atmosphere inside the Presidio in the days after the slaughter.
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The Political Aftermath: Was it Legal?
This is where it gets murky. Under Mexican law at the time—specifically the Decree of December 30, 1835—the executions were technically "legal." Santa Anna had declared that any foreigners landing in Mexico armed and with the intent to attack the government would be treated as pirates.
But Urrea, the general who actually defeated Fannin, didn't want to do it. He had signed a formal capitulation. He felt his honor was at stake. When the orders came from Santa Anna to "execute the perfidious foreigners," Urrea passed the buck to Portilla, the commander at the fort. Portilla was the one who had to live with the decision to pull the trigger.
The massacre turned out to be Santa Anna’s biggest mistake. Instead of terrifying the Texians into submission, it enraged them. It turned the Texas Revolution from a political dispute into a crusade for vengeance. "Remember Goliad" became just as important a rallying cry as "Remember the Alamo."
Actionable Insights for History Buffs
If you're looking to dive deeper into the lives of the men who were there, don't just stick to the general history books. The nuance is in the primary documents.
- Visit the Site: If you're ever in South Texas, the Presidio La Bahía in Goliad is one of the best-preserved sites of the revolution. You can stand in the very spot where the men were held.
- Read the Diaries: Search for the memoirs of Herman Ehrenberg or the diary of Dr. Joseph Barnard. They provide a "boots on the ground" perspective that you won't get from a textbook.
- Check the Rosters: The Texas State Library and Archives Commission has digitized many of the original muster rolls. If you think you have an ancestor who was there, that’s the place to start.
- Compare the Commanders: Contrast the leadership of Fannin with that of Urrea. It’s a fascinating look at two men caught in an impossible situation created by their respective superiors.
The Goliad Massacre wasn't just a moment of violence. It was a collection of hundreds of individual stories—young men from Georgia, Alabama, and Germany who thought they were embarking on a grand adventure and ended up in a ditch in South Texas. Understanding who was in the Goliad Massacre is about more than just a list of names; it's about acknowledging the sheer human cost of the Texas mythos.
The bodies were eventually gathered and buried with military honors by the Texian army months later, but the site remains a place of quiet reflection. It’s a reminder that in war, the line between a "soldier" and a "pirate" is often drawn by the person holding the pen—or the firing squad.
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