Today marks the anniversary of the Goliad Massacre, which took place on March 27, 1836. On the orders of Santa Anna, 342 Texas soldiers/prisoners were slaughtered by Mexican soldiers near Goliad, Texas. Herman Ehrenberg was one of only a handful of survivors of that horrific… pic.twitter.com/I0qPIbgsug
— Traces of Texas (@TracesofTexas) March 27, 2024
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Herman Ehrenberg was one of only a handful of survivors of that horrific event. When the Mexican soldiers opened fire on the prisoners at point-blank range, Ehrenberg was miraculously not wounded. In the confusion, he fell to the ground and crawled toward the San Antonio river. He suffered a small wound from a sword before jumping off the banks to the river 30 to 40 feet below and managed to stay hidden. The Texas Quote of the Day is his first-hand account of that sad day. It is lengthy but gripping:
"The cloudy morning of the eighth day dawned. If the enemy had not changed our condition, we would have forcibly freed ourselves or ended the imprisonment in death. But it was to come otherwise. Grey clouds circled the horizon, while not the slightest motion occurred on the surface of the earth. A damp sultriness lay on the prairie, capable of inciting feelings of misgivings among those who had nothing to fear, whose own horizon was clear. How much more must not our imagination have depicted the impenetrable future with dark pictures that were soon to become reality! A courier with the disposition of our fate from Santa Anna probably arrived during the night.
Anxiously we looked forward to the news and keenly hoped, in conformity with orders, immediately to break camp for Matamoros and to greet the free, blue gulf from there, to pierce his waving billows, and, finally, to sail up the mighty Mississippi, the father of the rivers of North America, to the city that we had seven months before left in merry enthusiasm. Bright and dreary glimpses into the future alternated in rapid succession. The cannon that had formerly guarded the entrance were turned around during the night and directed at our quarters. Apparently they were heavily loaded. On the other side of them stood the artillerymen with burning torches ready to fire at the first wink.
In front of us stood several companies in dress uniforms, which, however, were very shabby and made of the coarsest material. They did not have the least camp equipment with them, which, however, we did not notice, as they as a rule had little or nothing to take with them. I believe that I can frankly assert that not one of the Texans noticed it. At last an officer stepped among us with Santa Anna's orders in his hands of which he did not let us know any more than that we were to march off at once. It was eight o'clock in the morning. Where to? To Copano or to Matamoros? was not revealed to us and we were left to surmise. Short time was necessary for us to make our preparations to leave this place of misery, and in a few minutes we stood in position two men deep, with the exception of Colonel Miller's detachment, which, as previously stated, lay outside the fort. Furthermore, Fannin, the physicians and assistants, the interpreter and the wounded were missing, who were later to be brought to New Orleans by a nearer way.
After the roll had been called for the last time and after the last echo of the oft repeated, 'Here,' that accompanied the calling of the different names had died away, the order to march was given; and the Greys marched ahead under the command of First Lieutenant McMannemy of the Greys of Mobile through the dark gate. Singularly enough both the captains had left for Houston's headquarters on company business a few days before the retreat began. Out side of the gate we were received on each side by a troop of Mexicans. Like us, they had been placed man behind man to form two rows. Thus enclosed we marched forward. We were close to 400 men and the enemy at least 700, not counting the cavalry that was swarming about on the prairie in little detachments.
From now on it is possible for me to give an account of my own experiences and to tell that of the others according to other, already named, sources, which, however, are no less reliable than mine, I can assure you, as three and sometimes more eye witnesses told identically the same account. And the Mexicans did not deny the thing maintained by them. Quietly the column marched forward on the road toward Victoria, contrary to our expectations. Where they were going to take us in this direction was an object of general consideration for us. Most of us seemed to think that they were taking us to an eastern harbor in order to ship us to New Orleans from there, which finally would be the same, and it would even be nearer and better for us this way. The intolerable silence of the usually talkative Mexicans and the sultry heat increased the nervous expectations that were now lying on the breasts of all of us. This death march, as one can with justice call it, often recalls to my memory the bloody scenes that I was to witness at that time.
Anxiously I looked back to the rear part of the column to see if Miller's people were marched off at the same time with us. But imagine my astonishment when neither Fannin's men nor the last captured Georgia Battalion was to be seen! They had separated us without our noticing it, and only the Greys and a few of the colonists were marching in the detachment with which I was. I glanced over at the escort and now first I noticed their festal uniforms and the absence of camping equipment.
Bloody pictures rose up in my mind, among others those of Tampico, San Patricio and the Alamo. Then I thought of the character of our enemies, their duplicity, their banditry and their exultation in bloody deeds. All of these together prepared me for the worst, and there were moments when I was on the point of acquainting my companions with my apprehensions. But the never-dying hope detained me. It showed me the future even now in brilliant colors, and absorbed in thought I continued to step forward. The pictures on our probable fate became ever livelier in my imagination, and soon the happy ones of the future exchanged places for the painful ones of reality. The next moment my few remaining articles rolled through the lines of the Mexicans out on the fresh green prairie so that I would not be hindered in my movements in case of need.
Probably a quarter of an hour had passed since we had left the fort, and not a word had passed over our lips nor over those of the enemy. Every one seemed to have dropped into deep reflections. Suddenly the command of the Mexican sounded to march off to the left from the main road; and as we did not understand, the officer led the way himself. My companions in misfortune still carelessly followed the leader. To our left a little five or six feet high mesquite hedge extended straight to the roaring San Antonio River about a thousand yards away, whose clear waves here at right angles with the hedge pushed their way through bluffs between thirty to forty feet high, which rise practically perpendicularly from the water level on the side. Our feet were directed down the hedge and towards the river.
Suddenly the thought seized everyone: 'Where with us in this direction?" This and several mounted lancers to our right, to whom we had previously given no attention, confused us. And now we noticed that the line of the enemy between us and the hedge had remained behind and was now lining up on the other side so that they formed a double file here. Unable to comprehend this movement, we were still in a maze when a 'Halt!' was commanded in Spanish, which ran through us like a death sentence. At that moment we heard the muffled rolling of the musket volley in the distance. Involuntarily we thought of our companions, who had been separated from us and evidently led off in that direction.
Astonished and confounded we looked at each other, and cast questioning glances at ourselves and then at the Mexican officers. Only a few of us understood Spanish and could not or would not obey the order. Meanwhile the Mexican soldiers, who were barely three steps away, leveled their muskets at our chests and we found ourselves in terrible surprise. Only one among us spoke Spanish fluently, whose words seemed incomprehensible to him. In doubt he stared at the commanding officer as if he wanted to read a contradiction on his features of what he had heard. The remainder of us fixed our eyes on him to thrust ourselves on the threatening enemy at the first sound from his lips. But he seemed, as we were, possessed of the unfortunate hope that this order was naked threat to force us into Mexican service. With threatening gestures and drawn sword the chief of the murderers for the second time commanded in a brusque tone: 'Kneel down!'
A second volley thundered over to us from another direction, and a confused cry, probably from those who were not immediately killed, accompanied it. This startled our comrades out of their stark astonishment which had lasted from five or six seconds. New life animated them, their eyes flashed and they cried out:
'Comrades! listen to that crying, it means our brothers, hear their cry! It is their last one! Here is no more hope-the last hour for the Grays has come! Therefore-Comrades!'
A terrible cracking interrupted him and then everything was quiet. A thick smoke slowly rolled toward the San Antonio river. The blood of my lieutenant was on my clothing and around me quivered my friends. Beside me Mattern and Curtman were fighting death. I did not see more. I jumped up quickly, and concealed by the black smoke of the powder, and rushed down the hedge to the river. I heard nothing more and saw nothing. Only the rushing of the water was my guide. Then suddenly a powerful sabre smashed me over the head. Before me the figure of a little Mexican lieutenant appeared out of the dense smoke, and a second blow from him fell on my left arm with which I parried it. I had nothing to risk, but only to win. Either life or death! Behind were the bayonets of the murderers, and before me was the sword of a coward that crossed my way to the saving stream. Determinedly I rushed upon him. Forward I must go, and-the coward took flight in characteristic Mexican gallantry. Now the path was open, near was the point of my escape. Another few moments had passed. The smoke rolled like a black thundercloud over to the other side, and I stood with rapidly beating heart on the rocks and back of me the hangmen were pursuing.
Like a corps from hell they set in after me, but with a 'The Republic of Texas Forever!' I threw myself into the rescuing floods. Swimming slowly toward the opposite bank and prodded from time to time with the poorly aimed bullets that the enemy sent after me, I swam through the current of my savior. But another victim was to fall through the Mexican barbarity, namely, our faithful dog that had accompanied the company from the beginning to the end and that now sprang into the water after me to share my pleasures and sufferings with me in my flight through the unknown prairie. He had already reached the center of the stream when the Mexicans made a target of him; and although they seldom hit, the faithful friend, wounded, disappeared under the waves.
Arriving at the other bank of the river, I looked around once more to where my comrades were dying, while the bullets of the still firing enemies whistled about me. The hellish exaltations of the enemy mixed with the cries of pain of my dying brothers sounded over to me. What feelings took possession of me here! I cast another look and a farewell greeting to my dead companions and turned to flee. I had to hasten if I did not wish to fall into the hands of the lancers who were now on this side of the river less than a half a mile below me. I threw away everything that I could spare as the water had made my clothing considerably heavier, and, unfortunately, in the haste my diary also, that I had kept to this time. Provided with only the most necessary clothing, even without coat and cap, having lost the latter in the stream, I set out across the heavenly forests and prairies of the West."
------ Herman Ehrenberg, "Battle of Coleto Creek and Massacre at Goliad," 1858.