The Angel of Goliad: Francita Alavez (Apr 20, 2025)

 by Scott Sosebee

One of the most notorious incidents of the Texas Revolution was the Goliad “Massacre,” the Santa Anna-ordered execution of the Texian prisoners captured after the Battle of Coleto Creek. While contemporary Texans have come to remember and revere the Battle of the Alamo with more emotion, for the rebels of Texas at the time the incident at Goliad raised their hackles and passion for revenge just as much as did the earlier slaughter at the Alamo; when they screamed “Remember the Alamo, remember Goliad” at the Battle of San Jacinto, the latter fueled an equal portion of the vengeance that they took on the prairie between the two rivers that day. The men of Goliad entered the Texas heroes Pantheon that day, and Santa Anna cemented his place as the biggest “villain” in Texas history, but one key figure of that awful incident has gained much less notoriety through the years: Francita Alavez, the “Angel of Goliad.”

Santa Anna, acting within the accepted parameters of war at the time, had decreed that his army would take no prisoners as it marched to suppress the Texian revolt or any attempts by a “foreign power” to separate territory from Mexico. He had proved that he would act without hesitation upon that rule when he executed a group of Americans who had tried to take Tampico in November 1835, at Zacatecas when he brutally put down another attempt against his regime, and of course at the Alamo, where he put the entire garrison to the sword. When James W. Fannin surrendered his army to Mexican General Jose de Urrea after the Battle of Coleto Creek, he was, in effect, testing that proclamation. Fannin had surrendered unconditionally, and although Urrea had hinted or implied that the soldiers would be treated fairly and as combatants in a war between nations, Santa Anna’s orders to Urrea after he marched the prisoners back to the presidio at Goliad were clear: there would be no quarter and they were to be executed as traitors to Mexico. Urrea, who took great pride as an honorable military man and would eventually turn against Santa Anna, struggled with the order, but on the morning of March 27, 1836, he ordered the prisoners marched out of the compound and shot.

Present at Goliad on that day was Francita Alavez, who had accompanied Mexican Captain Telesforo Alavez to Texas. Historians have been unable to discover anything about Francita before her appearance at Goliad; it is even unlikely that her true name was “Francita Alavez,” and no one can even determine her age. For over a century, it was assumed that she was Captain Alavez’s wife, thus the use of his surname, but Marjorie Rogers, conducting research for the centennial of the massacre, discovered that Captain Alavez had a legitimate wife in Mexico, although he had abandoned her in 1834. Francita was most likely his mistress, although even that cannot be determined with absolute certainty.

We do know that she arrived with Alavez from Matamoros in Copano Bay. Alavez joined Urrea’s force at Copano Bay, and Francita was there when the Mexican Army captured a force of volunteers from Natchez who had come to aid the Texian cause. Perhaps Francita had some medical training, or perhaps she was just a compassionate soul, but she became alarmed when she noticed that the binds on the prisoner’s arms were restricting circulation to the Natchez men’s hands, which caused pain and risked potential amputation. She appealed to the Mexican soldiers to loosen the ties and to also give them more food.

Francita next accompanied Alavez to Goliad. It is not clear if Captain Alavez had participated in the Battle of Coleto Creek, but he was certainly one of the occupants of the presidio when the Texians were marched back to the old fort. The Natchez volunteers had also come from Copano, and Francita somehow convinced the officer in charge of those men to spare their lives (was that officer Telesforo Alavez? Perhaps, but there is nothing to indicate such).

Francita took great pity on the Fannin’s men when they were brought back after Coleto Creek, and she helped bind and treat Texian wounds. Somehow, she learned of Santa Anna’s order and Urrea’s decision to carry it out, so the night before the Mexican soldiers marched them onto the plain for execution she made her way into the presidio and helped several men out of the fort to safety and hid them in the brushes thus saving their lives. After the execution of Fannin’s soldiers, Captain Alavez and Francita went to Victoria, and while there, Francita continued to give food and provisions to the former prisoners she had helped escape. After the Texian victory at San Jacinto, Francita and Captain Alavez retreated to Matamoros and eventually to Mexico City. In the Mexican capital, Francita experienced the same fate Telesforo’s wife had suffered: the Mexican soldier abandoned her, which forced her to return to Matamoros (which has raised speculation that the border city was most likely her home and she had joined Alavez when he was there before coming to Texas).

Back in Matamoros, two of the men she had saved at Goliad, Dr. Joseph Barnard and Dr. John Shackelford, along with others, began to spread the word of her heroic efforts at Goliad. Their tales began to spread, and Francita gained the moniker “the Angel of Goliad,” and she was feted with great reverence during subsequent decades. However, at some point, wide recognition of her actions began to fade, and she diminished into the mists of history. Since we have just passed the anniversary of the Goliad Massacre, perhaps we in contemporary Texas can raise a toast to a brave woman who, out of compassion, aided people who faced a terrible fate.

The East Texas Historical Association provides this column as a public service. Scott Sosebee is a Professor of History at Stephen F. Austin State University and the Executive Director of the Association. He can be contacted at sosebeem@sfasu.edu or via www.easttexashistorical.org.