"Comrades! Retreat is no test of an army"s bravery, neither the courage of its commander. In every age and nation, circ.u.mstances have occurred in which the cause of liberty, or the general welfare of the state, has been promoted by timely flight rather than desperate engagements. "The Swamp Fox" often retired to his island of refuge, safe from invading bands--the daring Sumter was forced at times to retreat; and even our great Washington fled from superior forces, and waited till a more convenient season. Fellow-soldiers: there is one of two steps to be immediately taken. We will stand to our post, and fall to a man, like Travis and his n.o.ble band, and our names will go down to posterity as did the Spartans of old,
"Wreathed with honor, and immortal fame;"
or else we set out at once for headquarters, consolidate our forces, and march united to oppose Santa Anna.
"Comrades, which will ye do?"
No sound was heard along the ranks, each bent his head and communed with his own spirit; and the image of their distant, yet cherished homes, rose up and murmured--"Remember thy weeping wife and thy fair-browed boy; who will guard them when thou art gone?"
The eagle eye of their brave leader was piercingly bent on the mute a.s.semblage; the momentary gleam of hope that lighted his n.o.ble countenance faded away. There came a faint sound of rising voices--it swelled louder, and louder still:
"G.o.d bless our n.o.ble Colonel! our brave Fanning! With him is the issue. Say but the word, and we will follow!"
"Bryant, I cannot sign their death-warrant!" he said in a low, subdued tone, sinking his head upon his breast. He lifted himself up, and raising his voice, calmly replied:
"Had I not received orders to retreat, and if I were not fully aware that lingering here insured our total destruction, I should scorn to turn my back upon Goliad! Oh! gladly I would die in its defense; but your fate is too entirely in my hands to admit of following my individual wishes! None know the pang it causes me to sound a "Retreat," yet it may be, that the success of our cause demands it at my hands, and therefore I say, "Retreat, comrades!"--at dawn to-morrow, we move from Goliad."
The decree went forth, and the ensuing day saw the doomed band moving eastward toward headquarters they were destined never to reach.
On arriving at Goliad, Dr. Bryant had immediately enlisted, after placing Inez in safety at the house of an aged Senora of her nation; and no sooner was it decided to leave the town the following day than he sought his Spanish friend.
She was sitting alone when he entered, and quickly rising, placed a seat for him.
"Thank you, Inez, I have only a moment to remain--I come to say good-by."
"Which way do your people go now?" she hoa.r.s.ely asked.
"Santa Anna is marching with overwhelming forces toward us, and Colonel Fanning thinks it advisable to retire to headquarters. We set out at dawn to-morrow."
"You cannot escape by flight: it were better to remain here. I tell you now, if you leave Goliad, you will be cut off to a man."
"Inez, my own feelings would strongly incline me to follow your advice, but it has been decided otherwise!"
"Then, if you must go, I go with you!"
"Impossible, Inez, impossible! you know not what you say! For you to venture from this place under existing circ.u.mstances, beset as we are on every hand with dangers seen and unseen,--would be the height of madness."
"I know not fear! of that you must have been convinced long ere this.
Danger cannot intimidate me; what you meet and suffer, that will I encounter."
"Bethink yourself, Inez! What can you hope to accomplish by this strange step? You have nothing to fear here from your own nation: what can you gain by seeking a home among my people? Strange, mysterious being! I wish for your own sake you were timid--that fear might strengthen your sense of prudence!"
Inez had bent her head while he spoke, as in humiliation, now she lifted herself and said, in a low, determined tone:
"I am alone in the wide world, and I have but one hope, but one pleasure; to be with you while life remains, and to die near, that you may close my eyes and lay me down to rest." She paused a moment, and then clasping her hands, approached him, and continued in a more pa.s.sionate tone:
"Oh, if you knew how I have loved you, you could not look down so coldly, so calmly upon me! you could not refuse the favor I ask! Oh, Dr. Bryant, do not scorn me for my love!--"tis not a common love; for it I have lost every earthly comfort and blessing; for this struggled and toiled, and braved numberless dangers. I have loved you better than everything beside! Turn not from me, and think contemptuously of the worship given unsought! If you cannot love me, do not, oh, do not despise me! Let me a little while longer be with you, and see you; I will not trouble or incommode any one--do not leave me. Oh, Dr.
Bryant, do not leave me!"
The large black eyes were raised entreatingly to his, and an expression of the keenest anguish rested on her colorless, yet beautiful face.
Sadly he regarded her as she hurried on: no glance of scorn rested even for a moment upon her. Yet a stern sorrow settled on his broad brow, and around the firmly compressed lips.
"Inez, I do not, cannot love you, other than as the kind friend of other days. I have never loved but one--I never shall. Mary, my own angel Mary, ever rests in my heart. I cannot forget her--I can never love another. I do not even thank you for your love, for your avowal gives me inexpressible pain! I have suspected this, Inez, for long, and your own heart will tell you I gave no ground to hope that I could return your affection. I have striven to treat you like a sister of late, yet this painful hour has not been averted. Equally painful to both. Inez, your own words make it more than ever necessary that we should part forever. I cannot return your love--I will not encourage it. You must, as soon as safety allows, return to your old home.
Inez, do not cherish your affection for me, it can only bring pain and remorse; forget me, and remember that you have imperative duties of your own to perform. This is your darkest hour, and believe me, in time you will be happy, and a blessing to your people. Remember Mary"s words, and her parting gift, and I pray G.o.d that we may so live that we shall all meet in a happier home."
"Then I shall never see you again?" she said, in a calm and unfaltering voice.
"For your sake, Inez, it is best that we should not meet again. If I survive this war I go to Europe, and you will probably never see me more. Inez, I pain you--forgive me. Your own good requires this candor on my part."
An ashy paleness overspread the cheek and brow of his companion as he spoke, and the small hands clutched each other tightly, yet no words pa.s.sed the quivering lips.
"Good-by, Inez! my kind and valued friend, good-by!" He held out his hand. She raised her head, and gazed into the sad yet n.o.ble face of the man she had loved so long. She clasped his hand between both hers, and a moan of bitter anguish escaped the lips.
"My love will follow you forever! A woman of my nature cannot forget.
I shall sink to eternal rest with your name on my lips--your image in my heart. Yet I would not keep you here--go, and may your G.o.d ever bless you, and--and--may you at last meet your Mary, if there be a heaven! We part now, for you have said it; good-by, and sometimes, when all is joy and gladness to you, think a moment on Inez! the cursed, the miserable Inez! sitting in bitter darkness by her lonely hearth! Good-by!" She pressed her lips to his hand, and without a tear, shrouded her face in her mantilla and turned away.
"G.o.d bless you, Inez, and keep you from all harm!" and Dr. Bryant left the house, and returned to his commander.
Colonel Fanning had led his troops but a few miles when the vanguard halted, and some excitement was manifested. Spurring forward, he inquired the cause of delay.
"Why, Colonel, if we ain"t "out of the frying-pan into the fire," my name is not Will Furgeson. Look yonder, Colonel, it takes older and weaker eyes than mine to say them ain"t Santy Anna"s imps marching down upon us thick as bees just swarmed, too!"
"You are right, Furgeson; it is the entire Mexican force! let us form at once and meet them!"
Quick and clearly his orders rung out, and his little band, compact and firm, waited in silence the result. With an exulting shout the Mexicans charged. Desperately the doomed Texans fought, heaping up the slain at every step. The wily Santa Anna changed his tactics. There came a momentary cessation as the crowding thousands were furiously driven back. And, seizing the opportunity, he spurred forward, offered honorable terms, and besought Fanning to surrender and save the lives of his brave followers.
"We will only surrender on condition that every privilege of prisoners of war be guaranteed to us," replied Colonel Fanning.
"I, Santa Anna, commander-in-chief of the Mexican forces, do most solemnly pledge my word, that all the privileges consistent with your situation as prisoners of war, shall be extended to yourself and men.
And hereby swear, that on these conditions you may lay down your arms in safety, without further molestation on our part."
Is there one of my readers who for a moment would attach blame to the n.o.ble Fanning? The lives of his men were of far more importance to him than the renown of perishing, like Travis, in a desperate struggle.
With the latter there was no alternative, for the cry of even seven exhausted men for "quarter" was disregarded, and the garrison fell to a man. But honorable terms were offered Fanning: he remembered his men, and surrendered. Santa Anna! can there be pardon for such a hardened wretch as you? Does not sleep fly your pillow? In the silent watches of the night, do not the specter forms of your victims cl.u.s.ter about your couch, and the shambles of Goliad rise before you? Can you find rest from the echoing shrieks of murdered thousands, or shut your eyes and fail to perceive the mangled forms stiffening in death, and weltering in gore? If you are human, which I much doubt, your blackened soul will be tortured with unavailing remorse, till Death closes your career on earth, and you are borne to the tribunal of Almighty G.o.d, there to receive your reward....
Night found the Texans again in Goliad, and they sought sleep secure from evil; for had not Santa Anna"s word been given that further molestation would not be allowed? and they believed! Soundly they slept, and dreamed of far-off homes and fireside joys.
"That bright dream was their last!"
Sunrise came, and they were drawn out upon the Plaza. Their leader was retained in custody, and, unsuspicious of harm, they each maintained their position. Dr. Bryant raised his eyes--they rested but a moment on Santa Anna"s face. Turning quickly, he shouted aloud,
"Turn, comrades, let us not be shot in the back!"
Another moment the signal was given, and a deadly fire poured upon four hundred unresisting prisoners of war, to whom honorable conditions had been granted by the brave and n.o.ble generalissimo of the Mexican forces.
Not one of many n.o.ble forms was spared. Dr. Bryant sank without a struggle to the earth; and his spirit, released from sorrowing mortality, sprung up to meet his Mary and his G.o.d!