“Comrades!  Retreat is no test of an army’s bravery, neither the courage of its commander.  In every age and nation, circumstances 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 noble 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 assemblage; the momentary gleam of hope that lighted his noble countenance faded away.  There came a faint sound of rising voices—­it swelled louder, and louder still: 

“God bless our noble 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 hoarsely 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.”