Aaron Mahnke

And yet Fannin lingered.

Whether out of stubbornness or simple indecision, he stayed put until the morning of March 19th, five whole days after receiving the warning.

And that delay proved fatal.

When Fannin's retreat finally began, it was anything but swift.

The column trudged forward at a snail's pace, hampered by broken wagons and exhausted oxen.

At one point, a cart fell into the San Antonio River, prompting Fannin to halt his men for an entire hour while the animals grazed.

The real disaster struck at Coleto Creek.

The Mexican army had caught up to Fannin's men, but instead of seeking cover in the nearby woods, Fannin ordered his men to form a square in open prairie.

Cannons were placed at each corner, and the Texans braced for a showdown with the advancing Mexican forces.

Night fell, and the rebels were forced to endure a cold, sleepless vigil with dwindling ammunition.

At dawn, the Mexicans attacked.

Outnumbered and outgunned, the Texans raised a white flag.

An opposing officer approached under a flag of truce and demanded unconditional surrender.

But Fannin was proud to the very end, and he insisted that he would fight until his last bullet was spent.

And so the fight continued.

After a second brief skirmish, the Texans raised the flag again, and this time their surrender was negotiated.

They would be held as prisoners of war until there was a prisoner exchange or they were released on parole for honor.

The trouble was the Mexican president, Santa Anna, had already dispatched a triplicate order to execute any prisoners, branding them as pirates.

General Oreya, who had initially promised humane treatment, found himself caught between his own conscience and the dictator's ruthless decree.

He hesitated, but ultimately handed down the execution orders, which were set to be carried out on Palm Sunday.