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SHELBY'S 
 
 Expedition to Mexico. 
 
 AN 
 
 UNWRITTEN LEAF 
 
 OF 
 
 THE WAR. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN N. EDWARDS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " SHELBY AND HIS MEN," &C., &C. 
 
 KANSAS CITY, MO,: 
 
 KANSAS CITY TIMES STEAiM BOOK AND JUB PRINTING HOUSE. 
 
 I S72. 
 
\7l 2^1 
 
 >\ » -^ '•'. V ' >'^'- 
 
 Y-3j'^' 
 
 ■^ 
 
AN UNWRITTEN I.EAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 manner of supplies, and from the other 
 side all kinds and grades of cotton. 
 This dethroned king had transferred its 
 empire from the Carolinas to the Gulf, 
 from the Tombigbee to the Rio Grande. 
 It was a fugitive king, however, with 
 a broken sceptre and a meretricious 
 crown. Afterwards it was guillotined. 
 
 Gen. E. Kii-by Smith was the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief of this Department, 
 who had under him as lieutenants, Gen- 
 erals John B. Magruder and Simon B. 
 Buckner. Smith was a soldier turned 
 exhorter. It is not known that he 
 preached ; he prayed, however, and his 
 prayers, like the prayers of the wicked, 
 availed nothing. Other generals in 
 other parts of the army prayed, too, 
 notably Stonewall Jackson, but between 
 the two there was this difference : The 
 first trusted to his prayers alone ; the 
 last to his prayers and his battalions. 
 Faith is a fine thing in the parlor, but it 
 never yet put grape-shot in an empty 
 caisson, and pontoon bridges over a full- 
 fed river. 
 
 As I have said, while the last act in 
 the terrible drama was being performed 
 east of the Mississippi river, all west of 
 th(5 Mississippi was asleep. Lee's sur- 
 render at Appomattox Court House 
 awoke them. Months, however, before 
 the last march Price had made into Mis- 
 souri, Shelby had an interview with 
 Smitli. They talked of many things, 
 but chiefly of the war. Said Smith : 
 
 "What would you do in this emergen- 
 cy, Shelby f 
 
 "I would," was the quiet reply, "march 
 every single soldier of my command into 
 Missouri — infantry, artillery, cavalry, 
 all ; 1 would fight there and stay there. 
 Do not deceive yourself. Lee is over- 
 powered ; Johnson is giving up county 
 after county, full of our corn and wheat 
 fields ; Atlanta is in danger, and Atlan- 
 ta furnishes the powder ; the end ap- 
 proaches; a supreme eflbrt is necessary; 
 the eyes of the East are upon the West, 
 and with fifty thousand soldiers such as 
 yours you can seize St. Louis, hold it, 
 fortify it, and cross over into Illinois. 
 It would be a diversion, expanding into 
 
 a campaign — a blow that had destiny in 
 it." 
 
 Smith listened, smiled, felt a momen- 
 tary enthusiasm, ended the interview, 
 and, later, sent eiglit thousand cavalry 
 under a leader who marched twelve 
 miles a day and had a wagon train as 
 long as the tail of Plantamour's comet. 
 
 With the news of Lee's surrender 
 there came a great paralysis. What had 
 before been only indifference was now 
 death. The army was scattered through- 
 out Texas, Arkansas and Louisiana, but 
 in the presence of such a calamity it con- 
 centrated as if by intuition. Men have 
 this feeling in common with animals, 
 that imminent danger brings the first 
 into masses, the last into herds. Buffalo 
 fight in a circle; soldiers form square. 
 Smith came up from Shreveport, Louis- 
 iana, to Marshall, Texas. Shelby went 
 from Fulton, Arkansas, to the same 
 place. Hither came also other Generals 
 of note, such as Hawthorne, Buckner, 
 Preston and Walker, Magruder 
 
 tarried at Galveston, watching 
 with quiet eyes a Federal fleet 
 beating in from the Gulf. In addition 
 to this fleet there were also transports 
 blue with uniforms and black with sol- 
 diers. A wave of negro troops was 
 about to inundate the department. 
 
 Some little re-action had begun to be 
 manifested since the news of Appomat- 
 tox. The soldiers, breaking away from 
 the iron bands of a rigid discipline, had 
 held meetings pleading against surren- 
 der. They knew Jefferson Davis was a 
 fugitive, westward bound, and they 
 knew Texas was filled to overflowing 
 with all kinds of supplies and war mu- 
 nitions. In their simple hero faith they 
 believed that the struggle could still be 
 maintained. Thomas C. Reynolds was 
 Governor of Missouri, and a truer and 
 braver one never followed the fu- 
 neral of a dead nation his common- 
 wealth had revered and respected. 
 
 This Marshall Conference had a two- 
 fold object: first to ascertain the immi- 
 nence of the danger, and, second, to pro- 
 vide against it. Strange things were 
 done there. The old heads came to the 
 
Shelby's expedition to Mexico 
 
 yoimg one ; the infantrj^ yielded its pre- 
 cedence to tlie cavalry ; The Major-Gen- 
 eral asked advice of the Brigadier. 
 There was no rank beyond that of dar- 
 ing and genius. A meeting was held, at 
 which all were present except Gen. 
 Smith. The night was a Southern one, 
 full of balm, starlight and flower-odor. 
 The bronzed men were gathered quietly 
 and sat awhile, as Indians do who wish 
 to smoke and go upon the war-path. 
 The most chivalrous scalp-lock that 
 night was worn by Buckner. 
 He seemed a real Eed Jacket in his 
 war-paint and feathers. Alas ! w^hy 
 was his tomaliawk dug up at all ? Be- 
 fore the ashes were cold about the em^. 
 bers of the council-fire, it was htiried. 
 
 Shelby was called on to speak first, 
 and if his speech astonished his audi- 
 tors, they made no sign : 
 
 "The army has no confidence in Gen. 
 Smith," he said, slowly and deliberately, 
 "and for the movements proposed there 
 must be chosen a leader whom they 
 adore. We should concentrate every- 
 thing upon the Brazos river. We must 
 fight more and make fewer speeches. 
 Fugitives from Lee and Johnson will 
 join us by thousands ; Mi. Davis is on 
 his way here ; he alone has the right to 
 treat of surrender; our intercourse 
 with tlie French is perfect, and 
 fifty thousand men with arms in their 
 hands have overthrown, ere now, a dy- 
 nasty, and established a kingdom. Every 
 step to the Rio Grande must be fought 
 over, and Avhen the last blow has been 
 struck that can be struck, we will march 
 into Mexico and re-instate Juarez or es- 
 pouse Maximilian. General Preston 
 should go at once to Marshal Bazaine 
 and learn from him whether it is peace 
 or war. Surrender is a word neither 
 myself nor my division understand." 
 
 This bold speech had its effect. 
 
 "Who will lead us f the listeners de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Who else but Buckner," answered 
 Shelby. " He has rank, re3)utation, the 
 confidence of the army, ambition, is a 
 soldier of fortune, and will take his 
 chances like the rest of us. Whicli one 
 
 of us can read the future and tell the 
 kind of an empire our swords may carve 
 out?" 
 
 Buckner assented to the plan, so did 
 Hawthorne, Walker, Preston and Rey- 
 nolds. The compact was sealed with 
 soldierly alacrity, each General answer- 
 ing for his command. But who was to 
 inform General Smith of this sudden 
 resolution — this semi-mutiny in the 
 very whirl of the vortex ? 
 
 Again it was Shelby, the daring and 
 impetuous. 
 
 "Since there is some sorrow about this 
 thing, gentlemen," he said, "and since 
 men who mean business must have bold- 
 ness, Twill ask the honor of presenting 
 this ultimatum to General Smith. It is 
 some good leagues to the Brazos, and 
 we must needs make haste. I shall 
 march to-morrow to the nearest enemy 
 and attack him. Have no fear. If I do 
 not o^ erthrow him I will keep him long 
 enough at bay to give time for the move- 
 ment southward." 
 
 Immediately after tlie separation > 
 Gen. Shelby called upon Gen. Smith. 
 There were scant words between them. 
 
 "The army has lost confidence ui you, 
 Gen. Smith." * 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 " They do not wish to surrender." 
 
 " Nor do I. What would the army 
 have T^ 
 
 " Your withdrawal as its direct com- 
 mander, the appointment of Gen. Buck- 
 ner as its chief, its concentration upon 
 the Brazos river, and war to the knife, 
 Gen. Smith." 
 
 The astonished man rested his head 
 upon his hands in mute surprise. 
 A shadow of pain passed rapidly over 
 his face, and he gazed out through the 
 night as one Avho was seeking a star or 
 beacon for guidance. Then he arose as 
 if in pain and came some steps nearer 
 the young conspirator, whose cold, calm 
 eyes had never wavered through it all. 
 
 "What do you advise. Gen. Shelby?" 
 
 "Instant acquiescence." 
 
 Tlie order was written, the com- 
 mand of the army was given 
 to Buckner, Gen. Smith returned 
 
AX UNWRITTEX LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 to Slireveyjoit, eacli odicci- galloped off 
 to his tioops, ixiul llie lirst act in the re- 
 volution had been fiDished. The next was 
 played before a different audience and 
 in another theatre. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Gen. Simon Bolivar Buckner was a 
 soldier handsome enough to have been 
 Murat. His uniform was resplendent. 
 Silver stars glittered upon his coat, his 
 gold lace shone as if it had been washed 
 by the dew and wiped with the sunshine, 
 his sword was equaled onlj^ in bright- 
 ness by the brightness of its scabbard, 
 and when upon the streets women 
 turned to look at him, saying, "That is 
 a hero with a form like a war-god." 
 Gen. Buckner also wrote poetry. Some 
 of his sonnets were set to music in scanty 
 Confederate fashion, and when the red 
 June roses were all ablow, and the night 
 at peace with bloom and blossom, they 
 would float out from open casements as 
 the songs of minstrel or troubadour. 
 Sir Philip Sidney was also a poet who 
 saved the English army at Gravelines, 
 and though mortally wounded and dying 
 of thirst, he bade his esquire give to a suf- 
 fering comrade the water brought to 
 cool his own parched lips. From all of 
 which it was argued that the march to 
 the Brazos would be but as the calm be- 
 fore the hurricane— that in the crisis the 
 American poet would have devotion 
 equal to the English poet. From the 
 Marshall Conference to the present time, 
 however, the sky has been without a 
 war cloud, the lazy cattle have multi- 
 plied by all the w ater-courses, and from 
 pink to white the cotton has bloomed, 
 and blown, and been harvested. 
 
 Before Shelby reached his Division 
 away up on the prairies about Kauf- 
 man, news came that Smith had resumed 
 command of the army, and that a flag 
 of truce boat was ascentling Red river 
 to Shreveport. This meant surrender. 
 Men whose rendezvous has been agreed 
 
 ui)on, and wliose campaigns have been 
 marked out, had no business with flags 
 of truce. By the end of the next day's 
 march Smith's order of surrender came. 
 It was very brief and very comprehen- 
 sive. The soldiers were to be concen- 
 trated at Shreveport, were to surrender 
 their arms and munitions of war, were 
 to take paroles and transportation 
 wherever the good Federal deity in 
 command happened to think appro- 
 priate. 
 
 What of Buckner with his solemn pro- 
 mises, his recently conferred authority, 
 his elegant new uniform, his burnished 
 sword with its burnished scabbard, liis 
 sweet little sonnets, luscious as straw- 
 berries, his swart, soldierly face, hand- 
 same enough again for ]\Iurat "? Think- 
 ing of his Chicago property, and con- 
 templating the mournful fact of having 
 been chosen to surrender the first and 
 the last army of the Confederacy. 
 
 Smith's heart failed him when the 
 crisis came. Buckner's heart was never 
 fired at all. All their hearts failed them 
 except the Missouri Governor's 
 and the Missouri General's, and 
 so the Brazos ran on to 
 the sea without having watered a caval- 
 ry steed or reflected the gleam of a biu*- 
 nished bayonet. In the meantime, how- 
 ever, Preston was well on his way to 
 Mexico. Later, it will be seen how Ba- 
 zaine received him, and what manner of 
 a conversation he had with the Emperor 
 Maximilian toucliing Shelby's scheme at 
 the Marshall.Conference. 
 
 Two plans presented themselves to 
 Shelby the instant the news came of 
 Smith's surrender. The first was to 
 throw his division upon Shreveport 
 by forced marches, seize the govern- 
 ment, appeal to the army, and then 
 carry out the original order of concen- 
 tration. The second was to make all 
 suiTender impossible by attacking the 
 Federal forces, wherever and whenever 
 he could find them. To resolve with 
 him was to execute. He wrote a procla- 
 mation destLued for the soldiers, and for 
 want of better material, had it printed 
 upon wall paper. It was a variegated 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 tbing, all blue, and black and red, and 
 unique as a circus advertisement. 
 
 "Soldiers, you have been betrayed. 
 The generals whom you trusted have re- 
 fused to lead you. Let us begin the battle 
 again by a revolution. Lift up the flag 
 that lias been cast down dishonored. 
 Unsiieatb the sword that it may remain 
 unsullied and victorious. If you desire 
 it, I will lead ; if you demand it, I will 
 follow. We are the army and the cause. 
 To talk of surrender is to be a traitor. 
 Let us seize the traitors and attack the 
 enemy. Forward, for the South and 
 Liberty !" 
 
 Man proposes and God disposes. A 
 rain came out of the sky that was an 
 inundation even for Texas. All the 
 bridges in the west were swept away in 
 a night. The swamps that had been 
 dry land rose against the saddle, 
 girths. There were no roads, nor any 
 spot of earth for miles and miles dry 
 enough for a bivouac. Sleepless and 
 undismayed, the brown-bearded,bronzed 
 Missoui'ian toiled on, his restless eyes 
 fixed on Shreveport. There the drama 
 was being enacted he had struggled like 
 a giant to prevent ; there division after 
 division marched in, stacked their arms, 
 took their paroles, and were disbanded. 
 When, by superhuman exertions, his 
 command had forced itself through from 
 Kaufman to Corsicana, the fugitives be- 
 gan to arrive. Smith had again surren- 
 dered to Buckner, and Buckner in turn 
 had surrendered to the United States. 
 It was useless to go forward. If you at- 
 tack the Federals, they pleaded, you will 
 imperil our unarmed soldiers. It was 
 not their fault. Do not hold them re- 
 sponsible for the sins of their officers. 
 They were faithful tq the last, and even 
 in their betrayal they were true to their 
 colors. 
 
 Against such appeals there was no an- 
 swer. The horn- for a cottp d'etat had 
 passed, and from a revolutionist Shelby 
 was about to become an exile. Even in 
 the bitterness of his overthrow he was 
 grand. He had been talking to uni- 
 formed things, full of glitter, and var- 
 nish, and gold lace, and measured into- 
 
 nations of speech that sounded like the 
 talk stately heroes have, but they were 
 all clay and carpet-knights. Smith fal- 
 tered, Buckner faltered, other Generals, 
 not so gay and gaudy .faltered, they all fal- 
 tered. If warhadbeen a woman, winning 
 as Cleopatra, with kingdoms for caresses, 
 the lips that sang sonnets would never 
 have kissed her. After the smoke 
 cleared away, only Shelby and Reynolds 
 stood still in the desert — the past a Dead 
 Sea behind them, the future, what — the 
 dark ? 
 
 One more duty remained to be done. 
 The sun shone, the waters had subsided, 
 the grasses were green and undulating, 
 and Shelby's Missouri Cavalry Division 
 came forth from its bivouac for the last 
 time. A call ran down its ranks for 
 volunteers for Mexico. One thousand 
 bronzed soldiers rode fair to the front, 
 over them the old barred banner, worn 
 now, and torn, and well nigh abandoned. 
 Two and two they ranged themselves 
 behind their leader, waiting. 
 
 The good-byes and the partings fol- 
 lowed. There is no need to record them 
 here. Peace and war have no road in 
 common. Along the pathway of one 
 there are roses and thorns; along the 
 pathway of the other there are many 
 thorns, with a sprig or two of laurel 
 when all is done. Shelby chose the last 
 and marched away with his one thou- 
 sand men behind him. That night he 
 camped over beyond Corsicanna, for 
 some certain preparations had to be 
 made, and some valuable war munitions 
 had to be gathered in. 
 
 Texas was as a vasttirsenal. Magnif- 
 icent batteries of French artillery stood 
 abandoned upon the prairies. Those who 
 surrendered them took the horses but 
 left the guns. Imported muskets were 
 in all the towns, and to fixed ammuni- 
 tion there was no limit. Ten beautiful 
 Napoleon guns were brought into camp 
 and appropriated. Each gun had six 
 magnificent horses, and six hundred' 
 rounds of shell and caunister. Those 
 who were about to encounter the tin- 
 known began by preparing for giants. 
 A complete organization was next af- 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 fectecl. An election was held in due 
 and formal nianuer, and Sbelby was 
 chosen Colonel with a shout. Ke had 
 received every vote in the regiment ex- 
 cept his own. ^lisfortunes at least make 
 men unanimous. The election of the 
 companies came next. Some who liad 
 been majors came down to corporals, 
 and more who had been lieutenants 
 went up to maiors. Eauk had only this 
 rivalry there, the rivalry of self-sacri- 
 tice. From the colonel to the rearmost 
 men iu the rearmost file, it was a forest 
 of Sharp's carbines. Each carbine had, in 
 addition to the forty rounds the soldiers 
 carried, three hundred rounds more in 
 the wagon train. Four Colt's pistols 
 each, dragoon size, and a heavy regula- 
 tion sabre, completed the equipment. 
 For the revolvers there Avere ten thou- 
 sand rounds apiece. Nor was this all. 
 In the wagons there were powder, lead, 
 bullet-moulds, and six thousand elegant 
 newEnfields just landed fi'om England, 
 with the brand of the Queen's arms still 
 upon them. Recruits were expected, 
 and nothing pleases a recruit so well as 
 a bright new musket, good for a thou- 
 sand yards. 
 
 For all these heavy war materials 
 much transportation was necessary. It 
 could be had for the asking. Gen. 
 Smith's dissolving army, under 
 the terms of the surrender, was 
 to give up everything. And so th ey did , 
 right willingly. Shelby took it back 
 again , or at least what was needed. The 
 march would be long, and he meant to 
 make it honorable, and therefore, in 
 addition to the horses, the mules, the 
 cannon, the waggons, the fixed ammu- 
 nition, and the muskets, Shelby took 
 flour and bacon. The quantities were 
 limited entirely by tlie anticipated de- 
 mand, and for the first time in its history 
 the Confederacy was lavish of its com- 
 missary stores. 
 
 When all these things were done and 
 well done— these preparations— these 
 tearings down and buildings up— these 
 re-organizations and re-habilitations — 
 this last supreme restoration of the 
 equilibrium of rank and position, a 
 2A 
 
 council of war was called. The old 
 ardor of battle was not yet subdued in 
 the breast of the lead(^r. ' Playfully call- 
 ing his old soldiers young recruits, lie 
 wanted as a kind of ])uriiying process, to 
 carry them into battle. 
 
 The council tire was no larger than an 
 Indian's, and around it Avere grouped 
 Elliot, Gordon, Slayback, Williams, 
 Collins, Langhorne, Crisp, Jackman, 
 Blackwell^ and a host of others who had 
 discussed weighty questions before upon 
 eve of battle— questions that had men's 
 lives in tliem as thick as sentences in a 
 school book. 
 
 " Before Ave march southward," said 
 Shelby, " I thought we might try the 
 range of our new Napoleons." 
 
 No ausAver, save that quiet look one 
 soldier gives to another Avhen tlie firing 
 begins on the skirmish line. 
 
 "There is a great gathering of Feder- 
 als at Shreveport, and a good bloAv in 
 that direction might clear up tlie mili- 
 tary horizon amazingly." 
 
 No ansAA^er yet. They all knew what 
 was coming, hoAVCA^er. 
 
 "We might find hands, too," and heie 
 his voice Avas Avistfulaud pleading ; "we 
 might find hands for our six thousand 
 bright new Enfields. What do you say,, 
 comrades V 
 
 They consulted some little time to- 
 gether and then took a vote upon the pro- 
 position Avhether, in A-iew of the fact tliat 
 there were a large number of unarmed 
 Confederates at Shreveport awaiting 
 transportation, it would be better to at- 
 tack or not to attack. It was decided 
 against the proposition, and without 
 further discussion, the enterprise was 
 abandoned. These last days of the di- 
 vision were its best. For a week it re- 
 mained preparing for the long and per- 
 ilous inarch— a week full of the last 
 generous rites brave men could pay to a 
 dead cause. Some returning and dis- 
 banded soldiers were tempted at times 
 to levy contributions upon the country 
 through which they passed, and at times 
 to do some coAvardly Avork under cover 
 of darkness and drink. Shelby's stem 
 orders arrested them in the act, and his 
 
lO 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 swift punishment left a shield over the 
 neighborhood that needed only its shad- 
 ow to ensure safety. The women blessed 
 liim for his many good deeds done 
 in those last dark days — deeds that shine 
 out yet from the black wreck of ihiugs — 
 a star. 
 
 This kind of occupation erded at 
 last, how^ever, and the column i larched 
 away southward. One man alo le knew 
 French and they were going t) aland 
 filled full of Frenchmen . One m :n alone 
 knew Spanish, and they were 5 oing to 
 the land of the Spaniards. Tise first 
 only knew the French of the schools 
 which was no French ; and the ast had 
 been bitten by a tawny tarant' la of a 
 senorita somewhere up in Soiioia, and 
 was worthless and valueless wl ;n most 
 needed in the ranks that had guarded 
 and protected him. 
 
 Before reaching Austin a terrible trage- 
 dy was enacted— one of those sudden 
 and bloody things so thoroughly in keep- 
 ing with the desperate nature of the men 
 who witnessed it. Two otticers — one a 
 Captain and one a Lieutenant — quarreled 
 about a woman, a fair your c thing 
 enough, lissome and light of lo <•. She 
 was the Captain's by right of discovery, 
 the Lieutenant's by right of conquest. 
 At the night encampment she iibandon- 
 ed the old love for the new, and in the 
 struggle for possession the Captain sti iick 
 the Lieutenant fair in the face. 
 
 "You have done a serious thing," some 
 comrade said to him. 
 
 "It will be more serious in the morn- 
 ing," w^as the quiet reply. 
 
 "But you are in the wrong and you 
 should apologize." 
 
 He tapped the handle of his revolver 
 significantly, and made answer. 
 
 "This must finish what the blow has 
 commenced. A woman worth kissing is 
 worth fighting for." 
 
 I do not mention names. There are 
 those to-day living in Marion C ounty 
 whose sleep in eternity will he. iighter 
 and sweeter if they are left in ig- 
 norance of how one fair-haired boy died 
 who went forth to fight the battles of 
 
 the South and found a grave when her 
 battles were ended. 
 
 The Lieutenant challenged the Captain , 
 but the questictn of its acceptance was 
 decided even before the challenge was 
 received. These were the terms : At 
 daylight the principals were to meet one 
 mile from tiiecamp upon the prairie, arm- 
 ed each with a revolver and a saber. They 
 were to be mounted and stationed twen- 
 ty paces a part, back to back. At the 
 word they were to wheel and fire advan- 
 cing if they chose or remaining stationa- 
 ry if they chose. In no event were they 
 to pass beyond a line tw^o hundred yards 
 in the rear of each position. This space 
 was accorded as that in which the com- 
 batants might rein up and return again 
 to the attack. 
 
 So secret were the preparations, and 
 so sacred the honor of the two men, that, 
 although tlje difficulty was known to 
 three huadn 1 soldiers, not one of them 
 informed Slelby. He would have in- 
 stantly arrested the principals and forc- 
 ed a compromise, as he had done 
 once before under circumstances as ur- 
 gent but in no ways similar. 
 
 It was a beautful morning, all balm, 
 and bloom and verdure. There was not 
 wind enough to shake the sparkling dew- 
 drops from the grass — not wind enough to 
 lift breast 1 1 ' gh the heavy odor of the flow- 
 ers. The face of the sky was placid and 
 benignant. Some red like a blush shone 
 in the east, and some clouds, airy and 
 gossamer,floated away to the west. Some 
 birds sang, too.hushed and far apart. Two 
 and two, aid in groups, men stole away 
 from the Ci iiip and ranged themselves 
 on either fl ink. A few rude jokes were 
 heard, but :hey died out quickly as the 
 combatants-; rode up to the dead line. 
 Both were s aim and cool, and on the 
 Captain's f loe there was a half smile. 
 Poor fellow, there were already the scars 
 of three hoi : orable woun ds upon his body 
 The fourtli tvould be his death wound. 
 
 They wort': placed, and sat their horses 
 like men at ho are about to charge. Each 
 head was turned a little to one side, the 
 feet rested lightly in the stirrups, the 
 left hands grasped the reins well gather- 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF TllE WAR. 
 
 il 
 
 ed up, the riglit hands held the deadly 
 pistols, locaded fresh an hour before. 
 
 "Re&dy— wheel /" The tiaiued steeds 
 turned upon a pivot as one steed. 
 
 "Fire !" 
 
 The Lieutenant never moved from his 
 tracks. The Captain dashed down upon 
 him at a fall g;illop, firing as he came 
 on. Three chambers were emptied, and 
 three bullets spe- 1 away over the prairie, 
 harmless. Before the fourt i fire was 
 given the Captain was abre ist of the 
 Lieutenant, and aiming at hi .n at deadly 
 range. Too late ! The Lieutt uant threw 
 out his pistol until the mm ^le almost 
 touched the Captain's hair, and fired. 
 The mad horse dashed away riderless, 
 the C aptain's life-blood upon his trap- 
 pings and his glossy hide. There was a 
 face in the grass, a wid- 
 owed woman in Missouri, and 
 a soul somewhere in the whi fcy hush and 
 waste of eternity. A great cL;agoon ball 
 had gone directly through hi,s brain, and 
 the Captain was dead before lie touched 
 the ground. They buried liim before 
 the sun rose, before the dew was dried 
 upon the grass that grew r:.:on his pre- 
 mature and bloody grave. Tliere was 
 no epitaph, yet this might have been 
 lifted there, ere the grim soldiers march- 
 ed away again to the South : 
 
 "All, soldier, to your houorecl rest, 
 Your trutli and valor benring; 
 Tlie bravest are the tenderest, 
 The loviui? are the dariiiir." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 At Houston, Texas, there was a vast 
 depot of supplies filled with ill kinds of 
 quartermaster and commissary stores. 
 Shelby desii-ed that the Avoiien and 
 children of true soldiers should!' ive such 
 of these as would be useful oi bimeficial, 
 and so issued his orders. Fht ie were 
 disputed by a thousand o^ so lefugees 
 or renegades whose heads were begin- 
 ning to be lifted up everywhere as soon 
 as the last mutterings of the war storm 
 were heard in the distance. 
 
 He called to him two Captains— James 
 Meadow and James Wood — two men 
 
 known of old as soldiers fit for any strife. 
 The first is a farmer now in Jackson— 
 the last a farmer in Pettis— both young, 
 brave, Avorthy of all good luck or for- 
 tune. 
 
 They came speedily— they saluted and 
 waited for orders. 
 
 Shelby said: 
 
 "Take one hundred men and march 
 quickly to Houston . Gallop of tener than 
 you trot. Proclaim to the Confederate 
 women rhat on a certain day you will 
 distribute to them whatever of cloth, 
 flour, ba' on, medicines, clothing, or other 
 suppliers they may need, or that are in 
 store. Hold the town until that day, and 
 then obey my orders to the letter." 
 
 "But if we are attacked ?" 
 
 "Don't wait for that. Attack first." 
 
 "An^l fire ball cartridges f 
 
 "And fire nothing else. Bullets first— 
 speechf^s afterwards." 
 
 Thej galloped away to Houston . T wo 
 thousand greedy and clamorous ruffians 
 were besieging the warehouses. They 
 had not fought for Texas and not one 
 dollar's worth of Texas property should 
 they have. Wood and Meadow drew 
 up in front of them. 
 
 "Disperse !" they ordered. 
 
 Wild, vicious eyes glared out upon 
 them from the mass, red and swollen bj 
 driiik. They had rifled an arsenal, too, 
 and all had muskets and cartridges. 
 
 "After we have seen what's inside tbis 
 building, and taken what's best for us 
 to take!" the leader answered, "we will 
 disperse. The war's over, young fel- 
 lows, and the strongest party takes 
 the plunder. Do you understand our 
 logic f 
 
 "Perfectly," replied Wood, as cool as 
 a grena'lier, "and it's bad logic, if you 
 were a Confederate, good logic if you 
 areatl. ef. Let me talk a little. We 
 are Miss- ourians, we are leaving Texas, 
 we hav( no homes, but we have our or- 
 ders and our honor. Not so much as 
 one per assion cap shall you take from 
 this hoi ,ie until you bring a written or- 
 der fi-oj . Jo. Shelby, and one of Shelby's 
 men al jng with you to prove that you 
 
12 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 did not forge tliat order. Do yoii under- 
 stand my logic V 
 
 Tliey understood him well, and tliey 
 understood better the one hundred stern 
 soldiers drawn up ten paces to the rear, 
 witli eyes to the front and revolvers 
 drawn. Shrill voices from the outside 
 of the crowd urged those nearest to the 
 detachment to lire, but no weapon was 
 presented. Such was the terror of Shel- 
 by' name, and such the reputation of his 
 men for prowess, that not a robber 
 stirred. By and by, from the rear, they 
 began to drop away one by one, then in 
 squads of tens and twenties, until, be- 
 fore an hour, the streets of Houston were 
 as quiet and as peaceful as the cattle 
 upon the prairies. These two deter- 
 mined young officers obeyed their in- 
 structions and rejoined ther general. 
 
 Similar scenes were enacted at 
 Tyler and Waxahatchie. At the 
 iirst of these places was an 
 arsenal guarded by Colonel Blackwell, 
 and a small detachment consisting of 
 squads under Captain Ward, Cordell, 
 Eudd, Kirtley and Neale. They were 
 surrounded in the night time by a furi- 
 ous crowd of mountain plunderers and 
 shirking conscripts — men who had 
 dodged both armies or deserted both. 
 They wanted guns to begin the war on 
 their neighbors after the real war was 
 over. 
 "You can't have any," said Blackwell. 
 "We will t,„ke them." 
 " Come and do it. These are Slielby's 
 soldiers, and they don't know what be- 
 ing taken means. Pi-ay teach it to us." 
 This irony was had in the darkness, 
 be it remembered, and in the midst of 
 seven hundred desperate deer-hunters 
 and marauders who had baffled all the 
 efforts of the regular autliorities to cap- 
 ture them. Black well's detachment 
 numbered thirty-eight. And now a deed 
 was done that territied the boldest in all 
 that band grouped togetlier in the dai'k- 
 ness, and waiting to spring upon the lit- 
 tle handful of devoted soldiers, true to 
 that country which no longer had either 
 thanks or praise to bestow. James Kirt- 
 ley, James Rudd, Samuel Downing, and 
 
 Albert Jeffries seized each a keg of 
 powder and advanced in front of the 
 arsenal some fifty paces, leaving behind 
 them from the entrance a dark and omi- 
 nous train. Where the halt was had 
 a little heap of powder was placed upon 
 the ground, and upon each heap was 
 placed a keg, the hole downwards, or 
 connected with the heap upon the 
 ground. The mass of marauders surged 
 back as if the earth had opened at their 
 very feet. 
 " What do you mean ?" they yelled. 
 "To blow you into hell," was Kirtley's 
 quiet reply, "if you're within range while 
 we are eating our supper. We have 
 ridden thirty miles, we have good con- 
 sciences, and therefore we are hungry. 
 Good night!" and the reckless soldiers 
 went back singing. One spark would 
 have half demolished the town. A 
 great awe fell upon the clamoring hun- 
 dreds, and they precipitately fled from 
 the deadly spot, not a skulker among 
 them remaining until the daylight. 
 
 At Waxahatchie it was worse. Here 
 Maurice Langhorne kept guard, Lang- 
 horne was a Methodist turned soldier. 
 He publishes a paper now in Indepen- 
 dence, harder work, perhaps, tlian sol- 
 diering. Far be it from the author to 
 say that the young Captain ever fell 
 from grace. His oaths were few and 
 far between, and not the great strapping 
 oaths of the Baptists or the Presbyte- 
 rians. Tliey adorned themselves with 
 black kidsand white neckties, and some- 
 times they fell upon their knees. Yet 
 Langhorne was always orthodox. His 
 pistol practice was superb. During his 
 whole live years' service he never missed 
 his man. 
 
 He held Waxahatchie with such sol- 
 diers as John Kritzer, Martin Kritzer, 
 Jim Crow Childs, Bud Pitcher, Coch- 
 ran, and a dozen others. He was sur- 
 rounded by a furious mob who clamored 
 for admittance into the building where 
 the stores were. 
 
 "Go away," said Langhorne mildly. 
 His voice was soft enough for a preach- 
 er's, his looks bad enough for a back- 
 slider. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 13 
 
 They fired on him a close, hot volley. 
 Wild work followed, for with such men 
 how could it be otherwise 1 No matter 
 who fell, nor the number of the dead 
 and dying, Langhorne held the town 
 tliat night, the day followiug, and the 
 next night. There was no more mob. 
 A deep peace came to the neighborhood, 
 and as he rode away there were many 
 true, brave Confederates who came to 
 his little band and blessed 
 them for wliat had been 
 done. In sucli guise did these last 
 acts of Shelby array themselves. Scorn- 
 ing all who in the name of soldiers 
 plundered the soldiers, he left a record 
 behind him which, even to this day, has 
 men and women to rise up and call it 
 noble. 
 
 After Houston, and Tj^ler, and Waxa- 
 hatchie, came Austin. The march had 
 become to be an ovation. Citizens 
 thronged the roads, bringing with them 
 refreshments and good cheer. No sol- 
 dier could pay for anything. Those 
 who had begun by condemning Shelby's 
 stern treatment; of the mob, ended by 
 upholding him. 
 
 Governor Murrah, of Texas, still re- 
 mained at the capital of his State. He 
 had been dying for a year. All those 
 insidious and deceptive approaches of 
 consumption were seen in the hectic 
 cheeks, the large, mournful eyes, the tall, 
 bent frame that quivered as it moved. 
 Murrah was a gifted and brilliant man, 
 but his heart was broken. In his life 
 there was the memory of an unblessed 
 and an unhallowed love, too deep for 
 human sympathy, too sad and passionate 
 for tears. He knew death was near to 
 him, yet he put on his old gray uniform, 
 and mounted his old, tried war-horse, 
 and rode away 'dying to Mexico. Later, 
 in Monterey, the red in his cheeks had 
 burnt itself out. The crimson had turn- 
 ed to ashen gray. He was dead with 
 his uniform around Mm. 
 
 The Confederate government had a 
 sub-treasmy in Austin, in the vaults of 
 which were three hundred thousand dol- 
 lars in gold and silver. Operating about 
 the city was a company of notorious 
 
 guerrillas, led by a Captain Rabb, half 
 ranchcro and half freebooter. It was 
 pleasant pasturage over beyond the 
 Colorado river, and thither the Regi- 
 ment went, for it had marched far, and 
 it was weary. Loitering late for wine 
 and wassail, many soldiers halted in the 
 streets and tarried till the night came—: 
 a misty, cloudy, ominous night, full of 
 darkness and dashes of rain. 
 
 Suddenly a tremendous battering 
 arose from the iron doors of the vaults 
 in the State House where the money was 
 kept. Silent horsemen galloped to and 
 fro through the gloom ; the bells of the 
 churches were rung furiously; a home 
 guard company mustered at their armory 
 to the beat of the long roll, and from be- 
 yond the Colorado tliere arose on the 
 night air the full, resonant blare of Shel- 
 by's bugle soimding the well-known ral- 
 lying call. In some few brief moments 
 more the head of a solid column, four 
 deep, galloped into the Square, reporting 
 for duty to the Mayor of the city — a 
 maimed soldier of Lee's army. Ward 
 led them. 
 
 "They are battering down the Treas- 
 ury doors," said the Mayor. 
 
 "I should think so," replied Ward. 
 "Iron and steel must soon give way be- 
 fore such blows. Wliat would you 
 have ?" 
 
 "The safety of the treasure." 
 
 "Forward, men !" and the detachment 
 went off at a trot, and in through the 
 great gate leading to the Capitol. It 
 was surrounded. The blows continued. 
 Lights shone through all the windows ; 
 there were men inside gorging them- 
 selves with gold. No questions were 
 asked. A sudden, pitiless jet of flame 
 spurted out from two score of Sharp's 
 carbines ; there was the sound of falling 
 men on the echoing floor, and then a 
 great darkness. From out the smoke, 
 and gloom, and shivered glass, and scat- 
 tered eagles, they dragged the victims 
 forth— dyuig, bleeding, dead. One 
 among the rest, a great-framed, giant 
 man, had a king's ransom about his per- 
 son. He had taken ofl' his pantaloons, 
 tied a string around each leg at the bot- 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 torn and had filled tliem. An epicure 
 even in death, he had discarded 
 the silver. These white heaps, like 
 a wave, had inundated the room, more 
 precious to fugitive men than food or 
 raiment. Not a dollar was touched, and 
 a stern guard took his post, as immuta- 
 ble as fate, by the silver heaps and the 
 blood puddles. In walking his beat 
 this blood splashed him to the knees. 
 
 Now this money was money of the 
 Confederacy, it belonged to her soldiers, 
 they should have taken it and divided 
 it jjer capita. They did not do this be- 
 cause of this remark. Said Shelby when 
 they appealed to him to take it as a 
 right : 
 
 'T went into the war with clean hands, 
 and by God's blessing, I will go out of 
 the war with clean hands." 
 
 After that they would have starved 
 before touching a silver picayune. 
 
 Ere marching the "next morning, 
 however, Murrah came to Shelby and 
 insisted that as his command was the 
 last organized body of Confederates in 
 Texas, and that as they were on the eve 
 of abandoning the country, he should 
 take this Confederate property just as 
 he had taken the cannon and the mus- 
 kets. The temptation was strong, and 
 the arguments were strong, but he never 
 wavered. He knew what the world 
 would say, and he dreaded its malice. 
 Not for himself, however, but for the 
 sake of that nation he had loved and 
 fought so hard to establish. 
 
 "We are the last of the race," he said, 
 a little regretfully, "but let us be the 
 best as well." 
 
 And so he turned his back upon the 
 treasury and its gold, penniless. His 
 soldiers were ragged, Avithout money, 
 exiles, and yet at his bidding they set 
 their faces as iron against the heaps of 
 silver, and the broken doors of the 
 treasury vaults, and rode on into the 
 South. 
 
 When the line of demarkation was so 
 clearly drawn between what was sup- 
 posed, and Avhat was intended — when, 
 indeed, Shelby's line of march was so 
 straight and so steadfast as to no longer 
 
 leave his destination in doubt, fugitives 
 began to seek shelter under his flag and 
 within the grim ranks of his veterans. 
 Ex-Governor and Ex-Senator Trusten 
 Polk was one of these. He, like the 
 rest, was homeless and penniless, and 
 joined his fortune to the fortunes of those 
 who had justleft three hundred thousand 
 dollars in specie in Austin. From all of 
 which Trusten Polk might have argued: 
 
 "These fellows will carry me through, 
 but they will find for me no gold or sil- 
 ver mines." 
 
 Somewhere in the State Avere other 
 fugitives struggling to reach Shelby — 
 fugitive Generals, Governors, Congress- 
 men, Cabinet officers, men who imagin- 
 ed that the whole power of .the United 
 States Government Avas bent upon their 
 capture. Smith was making his way to 
 Mexico, so was Magruder, Reynolds, 
 Parsons, Standish, Conrow, General 
 Lyon, of Kentucky, Flournoy, Terrell, 
 Clark, and Snead, of Texas ; General 
 John B. Clark, Sr., General Prevost, of 
 Louisiana; Governor Henry W. Allen, 
 Commodore M. F. Mauiy, General Bee, 
 General Oscar Watkius, Colonel Wm. 
 M. Broad well. Colonel Peter B. Wilks, 
 and a host of others, equally determined 
 on flight and equally out at elbows. Of 
 money they had scarcely fifty dollars to 
 the man. Magruder brought his superb 
 spirits and his soldierly heart for every 
 fate ; Reynolds, his elegant cultivation, 
 and his cool, indomitable courage ; 
 Smith, his useless repinings and his rigid 
 W^est Point courtesy ; Allen, his 
 electric enthusiasm and his abounding 
 belief in proAddence ; Maury, 'i Is 1 -arn- 
 iug and his foreign decorations ; Clark, 
 his inimitable drollery and his broad 
 Southern humor ; Prevost, his French 
 gallantry and Avit ; Broadwell, his gen- 
 erosity and his speculative a^cavs of the 
 future ; Bee, his theories of isothermal 
 lines and cotton planting ; and Parsons, 
 and Standish and ConroAv the shadow of 
 a great darkness that was soon to envel- 
 op them as in a cloud — the darkness of 
 bloody and premature graves. 
 
 The command Avas within three days' 
 march of San Antonio. As it approach- 
 
AN UNAVRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 15 
 
 ed Mexico, the crrass gave place to mes 
 quite— the wide, iindnlating prairies to 
 matted and impenetrable stretclies of 
 chapparal. All tlie rigid requirements 
 of war had been carried out — the pic- 
 quet guard, the camp guard, the ad- 
 vauced posts, aud the outlying scouts, 
 aimless aud objectless, apparently, but 
 full of dariug, and cunning, and guile. 
 
 Pasturage Avas scarce this night, and 
 from water to grass was two good miles. 
 The artillery and commissary teams 
 needed to be fed, and so a strong guard 
 was sent with them to the grazing 
 place. Th£\y were magnificent animals 
 all, fat and fine enough to put bad 
 thoughts in the fierce natures of the 
 cow-boys — an indigenous Texas growth 
 — aud the unruly borderers. 
 
 They had been gone an hour, and the 
 sad roll of the tattoo had floated aAvay on 
 the night air. A scouts — Martin Kritzer 
 — rode rapidly up to Shelby aud dis- 
 mounted. 
 
 He was dusty aud tired, aud had rid- 
 den far aud fast. As a soldier, he was 
 all iron; as a scout, all intelligence; as a 
 sentinel, unacquainted Avith sleep. 
 
 "Well, Martin," his General said. 
 
 "They are after the horses," was the 
 sententious reply. 
 
 "What horses !" 
 
 "Those of the artillery." 
 
 "Why do they want them V 
 
 The cavalry soldier looked at his Gen- 
 eral in surprise. It was the first time in 
 his life he had ever lost confidence in 
 him. Such a question from siich a 
 source was more than he could well un- 
 derstand. He repeated slowly, a look of 
 honest credulity on his bronzed face : 
 
 "Why do they want them ?— well, be- 
 cause they are fine, fat, trained in the 
 harness, scarce to find, and worth half 
 their weight m gold. Are these reasons 
 enough f 
 
 Shelby did not reply. He ordered 
 Langhorne to report to him. He came 
 up as he ahvays came, smiling. 
 
 "Take fifty men," were the curt in- 
 structions, "and station them a good 
 half mile in front of the pastming- 
 place. There must be no bullets drop- 
 
 ing in among our stock, and they must 
 have plenty of grass room. You Avere 
 on duty last night, I believe." 
 
 "Yes, General." 
 
 "And did not sleep ?" 
 
 "No, General." 
 
 "Nor will you sleep to-night. Station 
 the men, I say, and then station your- 
 self at the head of them. You Avill 
 hear a noise in the night— late in the 
 night— and presently a dark body of 
 horsemen will march up, fair to see be- 
 tween the grass and the sky-line. You 
 need not halt them. When the range 
 gets good fire and charge. Do you un- 
 derstand ?" 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 In an hour Langhorne was at his post, 
 silent as fate and terrible, couching 
 there in his lair, Avith fifty good carbines 
 behind him. About midnight a low note 
 like thunder sprang up from towards 
 San Antonio. The keen ear of the prac- 
 ticed soldier took in its meaning, as a 
 sailor might the speech of the sea. 
 
 "Get ready — they are coming." 
 
 The indolent forms lifted themselves 
 up from the great shadow of the earth. 
 When they were still again they Avere 
 mounted. 
 
 The thunder grew louder. What had 
 before been noise, was now shape and 
 substance. Seventy-eight border-men 
 were riding down to raid the herders. 
 
 "Are you all loaded?" asked Lang- 
 horne. 
 
 "All. HaA'e been for four years." 
 
 From the mass in front plain figures 
 evolved themselves. Under the stars 
 their gun-barrels shone. 
 
 "They have guns," sneered Langhorne, 
 "but no scouts in front. What would 
 Old Joe say to that 1" 
 
 "He would dismount them and send 
 them to the infantry," laughed John 
 Kritzer." 
 
 The leading files were within tiCty 
 yards — near enough for a volley. They 
 had not heard this grim by-play, ren- 
 dered under the night and to the ears of 
 an unseen death crouching in the prairie 
 grass. 
 
 "Make ready!" Langhome's voice 
 
i6 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 Lad a gentleuess in it, soft as a caress. 
 Tlie Methodist had turned lover. 
 
 Fifty dark muzzles crept out to the 
 front, and waited there, gaping. 
 
 "Take aim!" The softest things are 
 said in wliispers. The Metliodist was 
 about to deliver the benediction. 
 
 "i^ire !" 
 
 A red cleft in the heart of the mid- 
 night—a murky shroud of dun and dark 
 tliat smelt of suli)hur — a sudden uprear- 
 ing of staggering steeds and staggering 
 riders — a wild, pitiful panic of spectres 
 who had encountered tlie unknown — and 
 fifty terrible men dashed down to the 
 charge. Why follow the deadly work 
 under tlie sky and the stars. It was 
 providence fulfilling a voav — fate restor- 
 ing the equilibrium of justice— justice 
 vindicating the supremacy of its immor- 
 tal logic. Those who came to rob had 
 been a scourge more dreaded thau the 
 pestilence— more insatiate than a famine. 
 Defying alike civil and martial law, 
 they had preyed alternately upon the 
 ^jcople and the soldiers. They were 
 desperadoes and marauders of the worst 
 type, feared and hated or both. Beyond 
 a few scattering shots, fired by the bold- 
 est of them in retreat, they made no 
 fight. Tlie dead were not buried. As 
 the regiment moved on toward San An- 
 tonio, thirty-nine could have been 
 counted lying out in the grass — booted 
 and spurred, and waiting the Judgment 
 Day. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 San Antonio, in the f idl drift of the 
 tide wliich flowed in from Mexico, was 
 first an island and afterwards an oasis. 
 To the hungry and war-worn soldiers 
 of She LB r's expedition it was a Para- 
 dise. Mingo, tlie uujiaralleled host of 
 Mingo's Hotel, was the guardian angel, 
 but there was no terror in his looks, nor 
 any flaming sword in his hand. Here, 
 everthing that European markets could 
 afford, was found in abundance. Cotton, 
 magnificent even in its overthrow, had 
 chosen this last spot as the city of its 
 
 refu^ge and its caresses. Fugitive Gen- 
 erals had gathered here, and fugitive 
 Senators, and fugitive Governors, and 
 fugitives desperadoes, as well, men sen- 
 tentious of speech and quick of pistol 
 practice. These last had taken imme- 
 diate possession of the city, and were 
 rioting in the old royal fashion, sitting 
 in the laps of courtesans and drinking 
 mnes fresh through the blockade from 
 France. Those passers-by who jeered 
 at them as they went to and fro re- 
 ceived a fusillade for their folly. Seven 
 even had been killed— seven good Tex- 
 an soldiers — and a great fear had fallen 
 upon the place, this antique, half-Mexi- 
 can city whicli had seen Fannin's new 
 Thermopylae, and the black Spanish 
 death-flag wind itself up into the Alamo 
 When the smoke had cleared away and 
 the powder-pall had been lifted, the 
 black had become crimson. 
 
 First a speck and then a vulture, until 
 the streets had become dangerous with 
 desperadoes. They had plundered a 
 dozen stores,had sacked and burnt a com- 
 missary train, had levied aprestamonpon 
 the citizens, and had gone one night to 
 " smoke out Tom Hindman," in their 
 rough border dialect. Less fortunate 
 than Pntnam, they found the wolf's den, 
 and the wolf was within, but he showed 
 his teeth and made fight. They ham- 
 mered at his door furiously. A soft, 
 musical voice called out : 
 
 "What do you want f 
 
 Hindman was a small man, having 
 the will and the courage of a Highland- 
 er. Eloquent of speech, cool, a collo- 
 quial swordsman whose steel had poi- 
 son on it from point to hilt, audacious 
 in plot, imperturbable in fi.nesse, gray- 
 eyed, proud at times to isolation, un- 
 successful in the field, and incomparable 
 in the cabinet, it was this manner of 
 a man who had called out from behind 
 his barricade. 
 
 The leader of the attacking party an- 
 swered him : 
 
 "It is said that you have dealt in cot- 
 ton, that you have gold, that you are 
 leaving the country. We have come for 
 the gold— that is all." 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 17 
 
 "Indeed!" and the soft voice was 
 strangely harsh and guttural uovv. 
 "Then, since you have come for the gold, 
 suppose you take the gold. In the ab- 
 sence of all law, might makes right." 
 
 He spoke to them not another word 
 that night, but no man advanced to the 
 attack upon the building, and when the 
 daylight came, Shelby was in posses- 
 sion of the city. A deputation of citi- 
 zens had traveled twenty miles that day 
 to his camp, and besought him to haste:.i 
 forward, that their lives and their prop- 
 erty might be saved. The camp was in 
 deep sleep, for the soldiers had traveled 
 far, but they mustered to the shrill 
 bugle call, and rode on through the long 
 night afterwards, for honor and for 
 duty. 
 
 Discipline is a stern, chaste queen — 
 beautiful at times as Semiramis, 
 ferocious as Medea. Her hands 
 are those of the priest and the ex- 
 ecutioner. They excommunicate, which 
 is a bandage over the eyes and a 
 platoon of musketry; they make the 
 sign of the cross, which is the acquittal 
 of a drum-head court-martial. Most 
 generally the excommunications out- 
 number the genuflections. 
 
 D. A. Williams did provost duty on 
 one side of the river, A. W. Slayback up- 
 on the other. What slipped through the 
 hands of the first fell into those of the 
 last. What escaped both, fell into the 
 water. Some men are born to be shot, 
 some to be hung, and some to be drown- 
 ed. Even desperadoes have this fatality 
 in common with the Christians, and 
 thus in the ranks of the plunderers 
 there is predestination. Peace came 
 upon the city as the balm of a southeast 
 trade-wind, and after the occupation 
 there was an ovation. Women walked 
 forth as if to a festival. The Plaza 
 transformed itself into a parterre. 
 Koses bloomed in the manes of the 
 horses — these were exotic ; roses bloom- 
 ed in the faces of the maidens— these 
 were divine. After Cann;B there was 
 Capua. Shelby had read of Hannibal, 
 the Carthagenian, and had seen Hanni- 
 bal the elephant, and so in his mind" 
 
 3A 
 
 there was no more comparison between 
 the battle and the town than there was 
 between the man and tlie animal. He 
 would rest a little, much, many glad and 
 sunshiny days, iilled full of dalliance, 
 and dancing, and music. 
 
 Mingo's Hotel from a cloister had be- 
 come to be a cantonment. It was noisy 
 like a hive, vocal like a morning in May. 
 Serenading parties improvised them- 
 selves. Jake Connor led them, an ar- 
 tillery ofScer, who sang like Mario and 
 fought.like Victor Emmanuel. In his ex- 
 tremes he was Italian. On the edge of 
 all this languor and love, discipline, like 
 a fringe, arrayed itself. Patrols pa- 
 raded the streets, sentinels stood at the 
 corners, from post to post martial feet 
 made time,and in the midst of a flood of 
 defeat, disaster, greed, overthrow, and 
 rendingasunder, there was one ark which 
 floated hither and thither, armed in 
 a fashion unknown to Noah, 
 bearing a strange barred banner at the 
 fore — the Banner of the Bars. When 
 its Ararat was found there was no longer 
 any more Ark. 
 
 On the evening of the second day of 
 occu])ation, an ambulance drew up in 
 front of the Mingo House. Besides the 
 driver, there alighted an old man, aged, 
 bent, spent with fatigue, and dusty as a 
 foot soldier. Shelby sat in the balcony 
 watching him, a light of recognition in 
 his calm, cold eyes. The old man en- 
 tered, approached the register, and wrote 
 his name. One having curiosity enough 
 to look over his shoulder might have 
 read: 
 
 "William Thompson." 
 
 Fair enough name and honest. The 
 old man went to his room and loclved 
 his door. The windows of his room 
 looked out upon the plaza. In a few 
 moments it was noticed that the blinds 
 were drawn, the curtains down. Old 
 men need air and sunlight ; they do not 
 commence hibernating in June. 
 
 When he had drawn his blinds, Slielby 
 called lip Connor. 
 
 "Get your baud together, Lieutenant," 
 was the order. 
 
 "For what. General V 
 
sMelby's expedition To MEXICO ', 
 
 "For a serenade." 
 
 "A serenade to whom V 
 
 "No matter, but a serenade just the 
 same. Order, also, as you go out by 
 headquarters, that all the men not on 
 duty, get under arms immediately and 
 parade in front of the balcony." 
 
 The assembly blew a moment after- 
 wards, and as the sun set a serried mass 
 of soldiers, standing shoulder to shoul- 
 der, were iu line, waiting. Afterwards 
 the band marched into the open place 
 reserved for it, Connor leading. 
 
 Shelby pointed up to the old man's 
 window, smiling. 
 
 "Play Hail to the Chief," he said. 
 
 It was done. No answering signals 
 at the window. The blinds from a look 
 of silence liad put on one of selfish- 
 ness. 
 
 Shelby spoke again : 
 
 "Try 'Dixie,' boys. If the old man 
 were dead it would bring him to life 
 again." 
 
 The sweet, familiar strains rose up, 
 rapid and exultant, filling all the air 
 with life and all the pulses with blood. 
 When they had died with the sunset, 
 there was still no answer. 
 
 Shelby spoke again : 
 
 "That old man np there is Kirby 
 Smith ; I would know him among a 
 thousand. Shout for him until you are 
 hoarse." 
 
 A great roar burst forth like a tem- 
 pest, shaking the house, and in the full 
 torrent of the tide, and borne aloft as an 
 awakening cry, could be heard the name 
 of "Smith !" "Smith !" 
 
 The blinds flew open, the curtains 
 were rolled up, and in i^lain view of this 
 last remnant of his magnificent army of 
 fifty thousand men. Gen. E. Kirby 
 Smith came forth undisguised, a look 
 full of eagerness and wonderment on 
 his weary and saddened face. He did 
 not understand the greeting, the music, 
 the armed men, the eves that had pene- 
 trated his disguise, the shouts that had 
 invaded his retreat. Threatened with 
 death by roving and predatory bands 
 from Shreveport to San Antonio, he 
 knew not whether one friend remained 
 
 to him of all the regiments he had fed, 
 clothed, flattered, and left unfought. 
 
 Shelby rose np in his place, a great re- 
 spect and tenderness at work in his 
 heart for this desolate and abandoned 
 man who had lived the military life that 
 was in him, and who — a stranger in a 
 land filled full of his soldiers — had not so 
 much as a broken flag staff to lean upon. 
 Given not overmuch to speaking, and 
 brief of logic and rhetoric, he won the 
 exile when he said to him : 
 
 " General Smith, you are the ranking 
 officer in the Trans-Mississippi Depart- 
 ment. These are your soldiers, and we 
 are here to report to you. Command, 
 and we obey ; lead us and we will follow. 
 In this public manner, and before all 
 San Antonio, with music and with ban- 
 ners, we come to proclaim your arrival 
 in the midst of that little band which 
 knows neither dishonor nor surrender. 
 You were seeking concealment, and you 
 have found a noontide of soldierly obe- 
 dience and devotion. You were seeking 
 the night and the obscurity of self- 
 appointed banishment and exile, and 
 you have found guards to attend you, 
 and the steadfast light of patriotism to 
 make your pathway plain. We bid you 
 good morning instead of good night, and 
 await, as of old, your further orders." 
 
 Shouts arose upon shouts, triumphal 
 music filled all the air again; thrice 
 Smith essayed to speak, and thrice his 
 tears mastered him. In an hour he was 
 in the ranks of his happy soldiers, as 
 safe and as full of confidence as a king 
 upon his throne. 
 
 There came also to San Antonio, before 
 the march was resumed, an Englishman 
 who was a mystery and an enigma. 
 Some said he was crazy, and he might 
 have been, for the line of demarkatiou 
 is so narrow and so fine between the 
 sound and the unsound mind, that ana- 
 lysis, howeyer acute, fails often to ascer- 
 tain where the first ends and the last 
 begins. This Englishman, however, was 
 difierent from most insane people in 
 this — that he was an elegant and accom- 
 plished linguist, an extensive traveler, a 
 soldier who had seen service in Algeria 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 19 
 
 with the French, and in the Crimea with 
 the British, and a himier who had Ivuown 
 Jules Girard and Gordon Cunnning-. His 
 views upon suicide were as novel as they 
 were logically presented. His knowledge 
 of chemistry, and the intricate yet fascin- 
 ating science of toxicology, sui-prised all 
 who conversed with him. He was a man 
 of the middle age, seemingly rich, re- 
 fined in all of his habits and tastes, and 
 singularly winning and fascinating m 
 his intercoiu'se with the men. Dudley, 
 that eminent Kentucky physician,known 
 of most men in America, declared, after 
 the observations of a long life, that 
 every man born of a woman was crazy 
 upon some one subject. This English- 
 man, therefore, if he was crazy at all, 
 was crazy upon the subject of Railroad 
 Accidents. He had a feverish desire to 
 see one, be in one, enjoy one, and run 
 the risk of being killed by one. He had 
 traveled, he said, over two continents, 
 pursuing a phantom which always elud- 
 ed him. Now before and now behind 
 him, and then again upon the route he 
 had just passed over, he had never so 
 much as seen an engine ditched. As for 
 a real, first class collision, he had loug 
 ago despaired of its enjoyment. His talk 
 never ended of wrecked cars and shat- 
 tered locomotives. With a sigh he 
 abandoned his hopes of a luxury so pe- 
 culiar and unnatural, and came as a 
 private to an expedition which 
 was taking him away from the 
 land of railroads. Later, this 
 strange Englishman, this travel- 
 er, linguist, soldier, piiilosopher, chem- 
 ist — this monomaniac, too, if you will — 
 was foremost in the battle of the Sali- 
 nas, fighting splendidly, and well to the 
 front. A musket ball killed his horse. 
 He mounted another and continued to 
 press forward. The second bullet shat- 
 tered his left leg from the knee to the 
 ankle. It was not known that he was 
 struck until a third ball, entering the 
 breast fairly, knocked him clear and 
 clean from the saddle, dying. He lived 
 until the sun went down — an hoiu' and 
 more. Before he died, however, the 
 strangest part of his life was to come 
 
 — that of his confession. When relat- 
 ed, in its proper sequence, it will bo 
 found how prone tlie best of us 
 are to forget that it is the 
 heart which is oftener diseased than 
 the head. He had suffered much in his 
 stormy lifetime, had sinned not a little, 
 and had died as a hunted wolf dies, vic- 
 iously and at bay. 
 
 At San Antonio, also. Governor Rey- 
 nolds and Gen. Magruder joined the ex- 
 pedition. The first was a man whose 
 character had to be tried in the fiery 
 crucible of military strife and disaster, 
 that it might stand out -grand, massive 
 and indomitable. He was a statesman 
 and a soldier. Much residence abroad 
 had made him an accomplished diplo- 
 matist. He spoke three foreign lan- 
 guages fluently. To the acute analysis 
 of a cultivated and expanded mind, he 
 had added the exacting logic of the law. 
 Poetry, and all the natural and outward 
 forms of beauty affected him like other 
 imaginative men, but in his philosophy 
 lie discarded the ornate for the strong, 
 the Oriental architecture for the Corin- 
 thian. Revolution stood revealed before 
 him, stripped of all its glare and tinsel. 
 As a skillful physician, he laid his hand 
 upon the pulse of the war and told the 
 fluctuations of the disease from the 
 symptoms of the patient. He knew 
 the condition of the Confederacy 
 better than its President, and w^orked 
 like a giant to avert the catasti'ophe. 
 Shams fled before him as shadows be- 
 fore the sun. He heard no voice but of 
 patriotism, knew no word but devotion, 
 had no ambition but for his country, 
 blessed no generals without victorious 
 battle fields, and exiled himself before 
 he would surrender. His faith was spot- 
 less in the sight of that God of battles 
 in Avhom he put his trust, and his record 
 shone out through all the long, dark 
 days as a light that was set upon a hill. 
 
 Magruder was a born soldier, dead now 
 and gone to heaven. He had a figure like 
 a Mars divested of immortality. He 
 would fight all day and dance all night. 
 He wrote love songs and sang them, and 
 won an heiress rich beyond comparison. 
 
20 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 The wittiest man in the old army, Gen. 
 Scott, adored him. His speech had 
 a lisp that was attractive, in- 
 asmuch as it lingered over its pans and 
 caressed its rhetoric. Six feet in height, 
 and straight as Tecumseh, Magruder, 
 in full regimentals, was the handsomest 
 soldier in the Confederacy. Not the 
 fair, blonde beauty of the city, odorous 
 of perfume and faultless in tailor-fash- 
 ion, but a great, bronzed Ajax, mighty 
 thewed, and as strong of hand as 
 strong of digestion. He loved women, 
 too, and was beloved by them. After 
 Galveston, Avith blood iipon his gar- 
 ments, a bullet wound upon his body, 
 and victory upon his standards, he 
 danced until there was daybreak in tlie 
 sky and sunlight upon the earth. From 
 the fight to the frolic it had been fifty- 
 eight hours since he had slept. A boy 
 at sixty-four, penniless, with a family 
 in Europe, homeless, bereft of an avo- 
 cation he had grown gray in following, 
 having no country and no calling, he, 
 too, had come to liis favorite officer to 
 choose Ms bivouac and receive his pro- 
 tection . The ranks opened eagerly for 
 this wonderful recruit, who carried in 
 his old-young head so many memories 
 of the land towards wliicli all were jour- 
 neying. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 From San Antonio to Eagle Pass was 
 a long march made dreary by mesquite 
 and chapparal. In the latter war lag- 
 gards aboimded, sleeping by day and 
 devouring by night. These hung upon 
 the flanks and iipon the rear of the col- 
 umn, relying more upon force than strat- 
 agem — more upon surprises for capture, 
 than sabre work or pistol pi^actice. Re- 
 turning late one night from extra duty, 
 D. A. Williams with ten men, met a cer- 
 tain Captain Bradford Avith thirty-two. 
 AVilliams had seven mules that Brad- 
 ford wanted, and to get them it was ne- 
 cessary to take them. This he tried 
 from an ambush, carefully sought and 
 cunningly planned— an ambush all the 
 
 more deadly because the superb soldier 
 Williams was riding campvA^ard under 
 the moon, thinking more of women than 
 of war. 
 
 In front, and back from the road upon 
 the right, was a clump of mesauite too 
 thick almost for a centipede to crawl 
 through. W^hen there was water, a 
 stream bounded one edge of this under- 
 growth; when there was no Avater, the 
 bed of this stream Avas a great ditch. 
 When theambnshment was had, instead 
 of water there Avas sand. On guard, 
 however, more from the force of habit 
 than from the sense of danger, Williams 
 had sent a young soldier forward to re- 
 connoitre, and to stay forward, watching 
 well upon the right hand and upon the 
 left. George R. Cruzen was his name, 
 and a braA^er and better never awoke to 
 the sound of the reveille. Cruzen had 
 passed the mesquite, passed beyond the 
 line of its shadows, passed out into the ' 
 glare of a full harvest moon, Avhen a 
 stallion neighed fiercely to the right of 
 him. He halted by instinct, and drew 
 himself together, listening. Thanks to 
 the sand, his horse's feet had made no 
 noise; thanks to the stallion, he had 
 stopped before the open jaws of the 
 defile had closed upon their prey. He 
 rode sloAvly back into the chapparal, 
 dismounted, tied his horse, and advanced 
 on toot to the brink of the ravine just 
 Avhere it skirted the edge of the brush. 
 As he held his breath he counted thirty 
 stalwart men crouching in the moon- 
 light. Two he did not see. These were 
 on guard where the road crossed the dry 
 bed of the creek. Cruzen's duty was 
 plain before him. Regaining his horse 
 speedily, he galloped back to where 
 Williams had halted for a bit of rest. 
 " Short greeting serA^es in time of strife," 
 and Cruzen stated the case so plainly 
 that Williams could almost see the men 
 as they Avaited there for his little band. 
 He bade his soldiers dismount, take a 
 pistol in each hand, and follow him. Be- 
 fore doing this the horses and the led 
 mules were securely fastened. 
 
 Stealing round the point of the chap- 
 paral noiselessly as the flight of birds 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 21 
 
 througli the nir, lie came upon the left 
 flauk of the marauders, upon that flank 
 which had been left unprotected and 
 ung-uarded. He was within five paces 
 of them before he was discovered. 
 They fired a point blank volley full in 
 his face, but his detachment fell forward 
 and escaped untouched. As they arose 
 they charged. The melee was close and 
 suffocating. Three of Williams' sol- 
 diers died in the ravine, two scrambled 
 out wounded to the death, one carries 
 yet a bullet in his body. But he tri- 
 umphed. Never was there a fight so 
 small, so rapid and so desperate. Cruzen 
 killed three. Cam. Boucher three, Wil- 
 liams four, Eas. Woods five with one 
 pistol, a heavy English dragoon, and 
 other soldiers of the ten two apiece. 
 Out of the thirty-two, twenty-seven lay 
 dead in a space three blankets might 
 have covered. Shelbj^ heard the firing, 
 and sent swift succor back, but the ter- 
 rible work was done. Williams rarely 
 left a fight half-finished. His deeds 
 that night were the talk of the camp for 
 manj^ long marches thereafter. 
 
 The next day at noon, while haltlug 
 for dinner, two scouts from the rear — 
 James Kirtley and James Rudd— gal- 
 loped in with the news that a Federal 
 force, three thousand strong, with a six 
 gun battery, was marcMog to overtake 
 the column. 
 
 "Who commands'?" asked Shelby. 
 
 "Col. Johnson," replied Rudd. 
 
 "How far in the rear did you see him'?" 
 
 "About seventeen miles." 
 
 "Mount your horse again, Eudd, you 
 and Kirtley, and await fm^ther orders." 
 
 Shelby then called one who had been 
 his ordnance master,Maj. Jos. Moreland. 
 Moreland came, polite, versatile, clothed 
 all in red and gold lace. Fit for any er- 
 rand, keen for any frolic, fond of any 
 adventure so only there were wine and 
 shooting in it, Moreland reported : 
 
 "I believe," said Shelbj^ " you can 
 turn the prettiest period, make the gran- 
 dest bow, pay the handsomest compli- 
 ment, and drink the pleasantest toast 
 of any man in my command. Take 
 these two soldiers with you, ride to the 
 
 rear seventeen miles, seek an interview 
 with Colonel Johnson, and give him 
 tills." 
 
 It was a note which he handcnl him — 
 a note which read as follows : 
 
 "Colonel: My scouts inform me 
 that you have about three thousand 
 men, and that you are looking for me. 
 I have only one thousand men, and yet 
 I should like to make your ac- 
 quaintance. I will probably march 
 from my present camp about ten 
 miles further to-day, halting on the high 
 road between San Antonio and Eagle 
 Pass. Should you desire to pay me a 
 visit, you will find me at home until day 
 after to-morrow." 
 
 Moreland took the message and bore 
 it speedily to its destination. Amid 
 many profound bows, and a multitude 
 of graceful and complimentary words, 
 he delivered it. Johnson was a gentle- 
 man, and dismissed the embassy v^th 
 many promises to be present. He did 
 not come. That night he went into 
 camp five miles to the rear, and rested 
 there all the next day. True to his 
 word, Shelby Avaited for him patiently, 
 and made every preparation for a stub- 
 born fight. Once afterwards Col. John- 
 son came near enough to indicate busi- 
 ness, but lie halted again at the eleventh 
 hour and refused to pick up the gage of 
 battle. Perhaps he was nearer right 
 than his antagonist. The war was over, 
 and the lives of several hundred men 
 were in his keeping. He could afford to 
 be lenient in this, the last act of the 
 drama, and he was. Whatever his mo- 
 tives, the challenge remained uaaccept- 
 ed. As for Shelby, he absolutely prayed 
 for a meeting. The old ardor of battle 
 broke out like a hidden lire, and burnt 
 up every other consideration. He would 
 have staked all and risked all upon the 
 issue of the fight — one man against 
 three. 
 
 The march went rapidly on. But one 
 adventure occurred after Williams' 
 brief battle, and that happened in this 
 wise: Some stores belonging to the 
 families of Confederate soldiers had 
 been robbed by renegades and deserters 
 
22 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 a few hours previous to Shelby's arrival 
 in the neighborhood. A delegation of 
 women came to his camp seeking resti- 
 tution. He gave them retribution. Elev- 
 en miles from the pluudered liabitations 
 was a rugged range of hills, inaces- 
 sible to most soldiers who had ridden 
 and raided about its vicinity. Here, as 
 another Eob Hoy, the leader of the rob- 
 ber band had liis rendezvous. This band 
 numbered, all told, nearly three hun- 
 dred, and a motley band it was, com- 
 posed of Mexicans, deserters from both 
 armies, Indians, men from Arizona and 
 California, and desperate fugitives from 
 justice, whose names were changed, and 
 whose habitations had been forgotten. 
 To these hills the property had been 
 taken, and to these hills went Slayback 
 with two hundred men. He found the 
 goods ])iled up breast high, and in front 
 of them, to defend them, were about 
 two hundred robbers. They scarcely 
 waited for a tire. Slayback charged 
 them with a great rush, and with the 
 revolver solely. The nature of the 
 grouud alone prevented the attack fi-om 
 becoming an extermination. Slayback 
 finished his work, as he always did, 
 thoroughly and well, and returned to 
 the command without the loss of a man. 
 
 About this time three men came to 
 Shelby and represented themselves as 
 soldiers of Lee's army who were aban- 
 doning the country, and Avho wished to 
 go wath him to Mexico. They were en- 
 rolled at once and assigned to a compa- 
 ny. In a day or two some suspicions 
 were aroused from the fact of their be- 
 ing well acquainted with the Spanish 
 language, speaking it fluently upon 
 every occasion when an opportunity of- 
 fered. Now, Lee's soldiers had but 
 scant time for the acquirement of such 
 accomplishments, and it became at last 
 a question of some doubt as to the truth 
 of the statements of these three men. 
 To expose them fully it cost one of them 
 his arm, the other two their lives, to- 
 gether Avith the lives of thirteen Mexi- 
 cans who, guiltless in the intention, yet 
 sinned in the act. 
 
 When within three days' journey of 
 
 the Kio Grande, Gen. Smith expressed a 
 desire to precede the regiment into Mex- 
 ico, and asked for an escort. This was 
 cheerfully furnished, and Langhorue re- 
 ceived his orders to guard the com- 
 mander-in-chief of the Trans-Mississip- 
 pi Department safely to the river, and 
 as far beyond as the need might be, if 
 it were to the Pacific ocean. There was 
 not a drop of the miser's blood in Shel- 
 by's veins. In everything he was prodi- 
 gal — of his money, when he had any, of 
 his courage, of his blood, of his 
 men, of his succor, of his in- 
 fluence, of his good deeds to 
 his comrades and his superior officers, 
 and of his charities to others not so 
 strong and so dauntless as himself. With 
 Smith, there went also, Magruder, 
 Prevost, Wilcox, Bee, and a score of 
 other oflficers, who had business with 
 certain French and Mexican officers at 
 Pridras Negras, and who were tired of 
 the trained marching and the regular 
 encampments of the disciplined soldiers. 
 
 Langhorne did his duty well. Eigid 
 in ail etiquette, punctillious in the per- 
 forformance of every obligation, as 
 careful of his charge as he could have 
 been of a post of honor in the front of 
 battle. Smith said to him, when he bade 
 him good-bye : 
 
 "With an army of such soldiers as 
 Shelby has, and this last sad act in the 
 drama of exile would have been left un- 
 recorded." 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 Eagle Pass is on one side of the Eio 
 Grande river, Piedras Negras upon the 
 other. The names indicate the countries. 
 Wherever there is an American there is 
 always an eagle. Two thousand Mexi- 
 can soldiers held Piedras Negras — fol- 
 lowers of Jaurez— quaint of costume and 
 piratical of aspect. They saw the head 
 of Shelby's column dehoudiinfj from the 
 plateau above the river— they saw the 
 artillery planted and commanding the 
 town— they saw the trained soldiers 
 form up rapidly to the right and left, 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 23 
 
 and tliey wondered grreatly thereat. No 
 boats would come over. Not a skiff ven- 
 tured beyond the sliade of the Mexican 
 shore, and not a sign of life, except the 
 waving of a blanket at intervals, or the 
 glitter of a sombrero through the streets, 
 and the low, squat adobes. 
 
 How to get over was the question. 
 The river was high and rapid. 
 
 " Who can speak Spanish V asked 
 Shelby. 
 
 Only one man answered— him of the 
 seuorita of Senora — a recruit who had 
 joined at Corsicana, and who had 
 neither name nor lineage. 
 
 "Can yon swim f asked Shelby. 
 
 "Well." 
 
 "Suppose you try for a skiff, that we 
 may open negotiations with the town." 
 
 "I dare not. I am afraid to go over 
 alone." 
 
 Shelby opened his eyes. For the first 
 time in his life such answer had been 
 made by a soldier. He scarcely knew 
 what the man was saying. 
 
 " Afraid F This with a kind of half 
 pity. "Then stand aside." This with a 
 cold contempt. Afterwards his voice 
 rang out with its old authority. 
 
 "Volunteers for the venture— swim- 
 mers to the front." Fifty stalwart men 
 dashed down to the water, dismounted 
 — waiting. He chose but two — Dick 
 Berry and George Winship — two daunt- 
 less young hearts fit for any forlorn hope 
 beneath the sun. The stream was wide, 
 but tliey plunged in. No matter for the 
 drowning. They took their chances as 
 they took the waves. It was only 
 one more hazard of battle. Before 
 starting, Shelby had spoken to Collins: 
 
 "Load mth canister. If a hair of 
 their heads is hurt, not one stone upon 
 another shall be left in Piedias Ne- 
 gras." 
 
 The current was strong and beat the 
 men down, but they mastered it, and 
 laid hands upon a skifif whose owner did 
 not come to claim it. In an hoiir a flag 
 of truce was carried into tiie to^Tii, 
 borne by Col. Frank Gordon, having at 
 his back twenty-five men with side- 
 arms alone. 
 
 Governor Biesca, of the State of Co- 
 ahnila, half soldier and half civilian, 
 was in comiunnd — a most polished and 
 elegant man, who quoted his smiles and 
 italicised his gestures. Surrounded by 
 a glittering staff, he dashed into the 
 Plaza and received Gordon with much 
 of ])omp and circumstance. Further on 
 in the day Shelby came over, when a 
 long and confidential interview was held 
 between the American and the Mexican 
 — between the General and the Govern- 
 or—one blunt, abrupt, a little haughty 
 and suspicious — the other suave, volu- 
 ble, gracious in promises, and magnifi- 
 cent in offers and inducements. 
 
 Many good days before this interview 
 —before the terrible tragedy at that 
 Washington theatre where a President 
 fell dying in the midst of his army and 
 his capital — Abraham Lincoln had made 
 an important revelation, indirectly, to 
 some certain Confederate chieftains. 
 This came through General Frank P. 
 Blaix to Shelby, and was to this effect : 
 The struggle will soon be over. Over- 
 whelmed by the immense resources of 
 the United States, the Southern govern- 
 ment is on the eve of an utter collapse. 
 There will be a million of men disband- 
 ed who have been inured to the license 
 and the passions of war, and who may 
 be troublesome, if nothing more. An 
 open road will be left through Texas for 
 all who may wish to enter Mexico. The 
 Confederates can take with them a por- 
 tion or all of the arms and war muni- 
 tions now held by them, and when the 
 days of their enlistment are over, such 
 Federal soldiers as may desire shall also 
 be permitted to join the Confederates 
 across the Rio Grande, uniting after- 
 wards in an effortto drive out the French 
 and re-establish Juarez and the Repub- 
 lic. Such guarantees had Shelby re- 
 ceived, and while on the march from 
 Corsicana to Eagle Pass, a multitude of 
 messages overtook him from Federal 
 regiments and brigade?, begging him 
 to await their arrival — a period made 
 dependent upon their disbandment. 
 They wished above all things to take 
 service with him, and to begin again a 
 
24 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 war upoa imperialism after tlie war up- 
 on slavery. 
 
 Governor Biesca exhibited, liis autlior- 
 ity as Governor of Coahuila, and as 
 Commander-in-Cliief of Coaliuila, Tam- 
 aulipas and New Leon, and ofi'ered 
 Shelby the military control of these three 
 States, retaining to himself only the 
 civil. He required of him but one thing, 
 a full, free and energetic support of 
 Benito Juarez. He suggested, also, that 
 Shelby should remain for several months 
 at Piedras Negras, recruiting his regi- 
 ment up to a division, and that when he 
 felt himself sufficiently strong to ad- 
 vance, he should move against Mon- 
 terey, held by General Jeanningros, of 
 the Third French Zouaves, and some 
 two thousand soldiers of the Foreign 
 Legion. 
 
 The picture, as painted by this fer'sdd 
 Mexican, \va,s a most attractive one, and 
 to a man like Shelby, so ambitious of 
 military tame, and so filled with the ro- 
 mance and the adventure of his situa- 
 tion, it was doubly so. At least he was 
 a devout Liberal. Having but little re- 
 spect for Mexican promises or Mexican 
 civilization, he yet knew that a 
 corps of twenty thousand Americans 
 could be easily recruited, and that after 
 he once got a foothold in the country, 
 he could preserve it for all time. His 
 ideas were'all of conquest. If he dream- 
 ed at all, his dreams were of Cortez. 
 He saw the golden gates of Sonora roll- 
 ed back at his approach, and in his vis- 
 ions, perhaps, there were glimpses of 
 those wonderful mines guarded even 
 now as the Persians guarded the sacred 
 fire of theu' gods. 
 
 The destiny of the Expedition was in 
 this interview. Looking back now 
 tlirough the placid vista of the peace 
 years, there are but few of all that rug- 
 ged band who would speak out to-day 
 as they did about the council board on 
 the morrow after the American and the 
 Mexican had shaken bauds and went 
 their separate ways. 
 
 This council was long, and earnest, 
 and resolute. Men made brief speeches, 
 but they counted as so much gold in the 
 
 scales that had the weighing of the fu- 
 ture. H Shelby was more elaborate and 
 more eloquent, that was his wont, be 
 sure there were sights his fervid fancy 
 saw that to others were unrevealed, and 
 that evolving itself from the darkness 
 and the doubts of the struggle ahead, 
 was the fair form of a new empire, made 
 precious by knightly deeds, and gracious 
 witli romantic perils and achievements. 
 
 Shelby spoke thus to his followers, 
 when silence had fallen, and men were 
 face to face with the future : 
 
 " It you are all of my mind, boys, and 
 will take your chances along Avith 
 me, it is Juarez and the Republic from 
 this on until we die here, one by one, or 
 win a kingdom. We have the nucleus 
 of a fine army — we have cannon, mus- 
 kets, ammunition, some good prospects 
 for recruits, a way open to Sonora, 
 and according to the faith that is in us 
 will be the measure of our loss or vic- 
 tory. Determine for yourselves. You 
 know Biesca's offer. What he fails to 
 perform we will perform for ourselves, 
 so that when the game is played out 
 there will be scant laughter over any 
 Americans trapped or slain by treach- 
 ery." 
 
 There were other speeches made, 
 briefer than this one by the leader, and 
 some little of whispering apart and in 
 eagerness. At last Elliott stood up— the 
 spokesman. He had been a fighting 
 Colonel of the Old Brigade, he had been 
 wounded four times, he was very stern 
 and very true, and so the lot fell to him 
 to make answer. 
 
 "General, if you order it, we will fol- 
 low you into the Pacific Ocean ; but we 
 are all Imperialists, and would prefer 
 service under Maximilian." 
 
 *Ts this j^our answer, men ?" and Shel- 
 b^^'s voice had come back to its old 
 cheery tones. 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "Final r 
 
 "As the grave." 
 
 "Then it is mine, too. Henceforth we 
 will fight under Maximilian. To-mor- 
 row, at four o'clock in the afternoon, the 
 march shall commence for Monterey. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 25 
 
 Let no man repine. You have chosen 
 tlie Empire, and, perhaps, it is well, but 
 bad or good, yoiu' fate shall be my fate, 
 and your fortune my fortune." 
 
 The comrade spoke then. The soldier 
 had spoken at Marshall, at Corsicana, at 
 San Antonio, and in the long interview 
 held with Biesca. Time has revealed 
 many things since that meeting in June, 
 1865— many things that might have 
 been done and well done, had the frank 
 speech of Elliott remained unspoken- 
 had the keen feeling of sympathy be- 
 tween the French and the Confederates 
 been less romantic. Shelby was wiser 
 then than any man who followed him, 
 and strong enough to have forced them 
 in the pathway that lay before Ids eyes 
 so well revealed, but he would not for 
 the richest province in Mexico. And as 
 the conference closed, he said, in pass- 
 ing out : 
 
 "Poor, proud fellows— it is principle 
 with them, and they had rather starve 
 under the Empire than feast in a Repub- 
 lic. Lucky, indeed, for many of them 
 if to famine there is not added a fusil- 
 hij^le." 
 
 Governor Biesca's bland face blankly 
 fell when Shelby announced to him the 
 next morning the decision of the confer- 
 ence. He had slept upon the happiness 
 of a coup cV etat; when he awoke it 
 was a phantasy. No further argu- 
 ments availed him, and he made none. 
 When a Mexican runs his race, and 
 comes face to face with the inevitable, 
 he is the most indifferent man in the 
 world. A muttered bueana, a folded 
 cigarrito, a bow to the invisible, and he 
 has made his peace with his conscience 
 and his God, and lies or sighs in the 
 days that come after as the humor of 
 the fancy takes him. 
 
 Biesca had all of his nation's noncha- 
 lance, and so, when for his master's ser- 
 vice he could not get men, he tried for 
 munitions of war. Negotiations for the 
 purchase of the arms, the artillery, and 
 the ammunition were begun at once. A 
 prestamo was levied. Familiarity with 
 this custom had made him an adept. 
 Being a part of the national education, 
 
 4A 
 
 it was not expected that one so high in 
 rank as a Governor would be ignorant 
 of its rudiments. 
 
 Between Piedras Negras and Mon- 
 terey the country was almost a wilder- 
 ness. A kind of debatable ground — the 
 robbers had raided it, the Liberals liad 
 plundered it, and the French had deso- 
 lated it. As Shelby was to pass over it, 
 he could not carry with him his teams, 
 Vis wagons, his artillery, and his supply 
 trains. Besides, he had no money to 
 buy food, even if food was to be had, 
 and as it had been decided to abandon 
 Juarez, it was no longer necessary to re- 
 tain the war material. Hence the pres- 
 tamo. A list of the merchants was 
 made ; the amount assessed to each was 
 placed opposite his name ; au adjutant 
 with a file of soldiers, called upon the 
 interested party; bowed to him; wished 
 him happiness and high fortune ; point- 
 ed to the ominous figures, and waited. 
 Generally they did not wait long. As 
 between the silver and the guard-house, 
 the merchant chose the former, paid his 
 toll, cursed the Yankees, made the sign 
 of the cross, and went to sleep. 
 
 By dint of much threatening, and 
 much mild persuasiveness — such persua- 
 siveness as bayonets give — sixteen thou- 
 sand dollars were got together, and, for 
 safety, were deposited in the custom 
 house. On the morrow they were to be 
 paid out. 
 
 The day was almost a tropical one. 
 No air blew about the streets, and 
 a white glare came over the sands and 
 settled as a cloud upon the houses and 
 upon the water. The men scattered in 
 every direction, careless of consequen- 
 ces, and indifferent as to results. The 
 cafes were full. Wine and women 
 abounded. Beside the bronzed faces of 
 the soldiers were the tawny faces of the 
 senoritas. In the passage of the drink- 
 ing-horns the men kissed the women. 
 Great American oaths came out from 
 the tiendas, harsh at times, and resonant 
 at times. Even in their wickedness they 
 were national. 
 
 A tragedy was making head, however, 
 in spite of the white glare of the sun, 
 
z6 
 
 shelby's ExPEinrtON To MKxtco ; 
 
 and the fervid kisses under the 
 rose. The tliree men, soldiers of 
 Lee's army ostensibly— men who 
 had been fed and sheltered— 
 were tempting providence beyond the 
 prudent point. Having the hearts of 
 sheep, they were dealing with lions. To 
 their treachery, they were about to add 
 bravado— to the magazine they were 
 about to apply the torch. 
 
 Tliere is a universal Mexican law 
 which ]iialces a brand a bible. From its 
 truth there is no appeal. Every horse in 
 the country is branded, and every brand 
 is entered of record, just as a deed or le- 
 gal conveyance. Some of these brands 
 are intricate, some unique, some as fan- 
 tastic as a jester's cap, some a single let- 
 ter of the alphabet, but all legal and 
 lawful brands just the same, and good 
 to pass muster anywhere so only there 
 are alcaldes and sandalled soldiers 
 about. Their logic is extremely simple, 
 too. You prove the braiul and take the 
 horse, no matter who rides him, nor how 
 great the need for whip and spur. 
 
 In Shelby's command there were a 
 dozen magnificent horses, tit for a king's 
 race, who wore a brand of an unusual 
 fashion — many-lined and intricate as a 
 column of Arabesque. They had been 
 obtained somewhere above San Antonio, 
 arid had been dealt with as only cavalry 
 soldiers know how to deal with horses. 
 These the three men wanted. With 
 their knowledge of Spanish, they had 
 gone among the Mexican soldiers, 
 poisoning their minds with tales of 
 American rapine and slaughter, depict- 
 ing, with not a little of attractive rhet- 
 oric, the long and weary march they had 
 made with these marauders tliat their 
 beloved steeds might not be taken en- 
 entirely away from them. 
 
 The Mexicans listened, not from gen- 
 erosity, but from greed, and swore a 
 great oath by the Vuginthat the gringos 
 should deliver up every branded horse 
 across the Rio Grande. 
 
 Ike and Dick Berry rode each a brand- 
 ed horse, and so did Armistead, Kirtley, 
 Winship, Henry Chiles, John Rudd, 
 Yowell, and two-score more, perhaps, 
 
 equally fearless, and equally ignorant of 
 any other law besides the law of posses- 
 sion. 
 
 The afternoon dull was over. The 
 hot glare was still upon the earth and 
 the sky. If anything, the noise from 
 the cafes came louder and merrier. 
 Where the musical voices were the 
 sweetest, were the places where the wo- 
 men abounded with disheveled hair, 
 and eyes of tropical dusk. 
 
 lk(^ Berry had ridden one of these 
 branded horses into the street, running 
 by regimental headquarters, and sat 
 with one leg crossed upon the saddle, 
 lazily smoking. He was a low, squat 
 Hercules, free of speech and frank of 
 nature. In battle he always laughed; 
 only when eating was he serious. What 
 revereiice he had came from the appe- 
 tite. The crumbs that fell from his 
 long, yellow beard were his benediction. 
 
 Other branded horses were hitched 
 about,easy of access and unnoted of own- 
 er. The three men came into the street, 
 behind them a yonng Mexican Captain 
 handsome as Adonis. This Captain led 
 tliuty-five soldiers, with eyes to thfe 
 front and guns at a trail. 
 
 Jim Wood lounged to the door of a 
 cafe and remarked them as they filed by. 
 As he returned, he spoke to Martin Krit- 
 zer, toying with an Indian girl, beaded 
 and beautiful : 
 
 "They are in skirmishins' order. Old 
 Joe has delivered the arms; it maybe 
 we shall take them back again." 
 
 One of the men went straight up to 
 Ike Berry, aKS he sat cross-legged upon 
 his horse, and laid his hand upon the 
 horse's bridle. 
 
 Ike knew him and spoke to him cheer- 
 ily : 
 
 "How now, comrade 1" 
 
 Short answer, and curt : 
 
 " Tliis is ray horse ; he wears my 
 brand ; I have followed him to Mexico. 
 Dismount !" 
 
 A long white wreath of smoke curled 
 up from Ike's meerschaum in surprise. 
 Even the pipe entered a protest. The 
 old battle-smile came back to his face, 
 and those \yho were nearest and knew 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAK OF TIIK WAR. 
 
 27 
 
 luni best, kuew that a dead man would 
 soon lay upon the street. He knocked 
 the ashes from his pipe musingly ; he 
 put the disengaged foot back gently in 
 tlie stirrup ; he rose up all of a sudden 
 tlie very incarnation of murder ; there 
 Avas a white gleam in the air ; a heavy 
 saber that lifed itself up and circled, 
 and wLen it fell a stalwart arm 
 was shredded away, as a girl might 
 sever a sill^eu chain or the tendrils of a 
 vine. The ghastly stump, not over four 
 inches fi'om the shoulder, spouted blood 
 at every heart throb. The man fell as 
 one paralyzed. A shout arose. The 
 Mexicans spread out like a fan, and 
 when the fan closed it had surrounded 
 Berry, and Williams, and Kirtley, and 
 Collins, and Armistead, and Langhorne, 
 and Henry Chiles, and Jim Wood, and 
 Kudd, and Moreland, and Boswell, and 
 McDougall, and the brothers Kritzer. 
 Yowell alone broke through the cordon 
 and rushed to Shelby. 
 
 Shelby was sitting iii a saloon discuss- 
 ing cognac and Catalan Avith the Eng- 
 lishman. On the face of the last there 
 was a look of sorrow. Could it have 
 been possible that the sombre shadows 
 of the Salinas were alieady beginning to 
 gather about his* brow"? 
 
 A glance convinced Shelby that Yo well 
 Avas m trouble. 
 "What is it?" he asked. 
 "They are after the horses." 
 "What horsesf 
 
 "The branded horses; those obtained 
 from the Eosser ranche." 
 
 "Ah ! and after we have delivered the 
 arms, too, Mexican like — Mexican like." 
 He arose as he spuke and looked out 
 upon the street. Some revolA^ers wjere 
 being tired. These, in the AA'hite heat of 
 tlie afternoon, sounded as the tapping 
 of Avoodpeckers. Afterwards a steady 
 roar of xilles told how^ the battle Avent. 
 
 "The rally! the rally! -sound the 
 rally !" Shelby cried to his bugler, as he 
 dashed doAvn to Avheie the Mexicans 
 Avere swarming about Beriy aud the 
 few men nearest to hiui. "We luiA^e 
 eaten of their salt, and they liaAe be- 
 trayed us ; Ave have come to them as : 
 
 friends, and they Avould strip us like 
 barbarians. It is Avar again — Avar to the- 
 knife !" 
 
 At thi.s mouieut the wild, piercing- 
 notes of an American bugle Avere heard 
 — clear, penetrating, detiant — not<-S that 
 told of sore stress among comrades, imd 
 pressing need of succoi-. 
 
 The laughter died in the cafvH as a 
 night Avind AA^hen the morning comes. 
 The bugle sobered all who were drunk 
 Avith drink or dalliance. Its A^oice told 
 of dauger near and imminent— of a field 
 needing harvesters Avho knew hoAV to 
 die. 
 
 The men sv, armed out of every door- 
 Avay — ])ouied iioni under e\^ery portal 
 — flushed, furious, ravenous for blood. 
 They saw the Mexicans in the square, 
 the peril of Berry and those nearest to 
 him, and they asked no f urtlier questions. 
 A sudden crasii of reA ol\ ers came first, 
 dose and deadly ; a yell, a shout, and 
 then a fierce, hot charge. Has. Woods, 
 with a short Enfield lifle in his hand, 
 stood fair in the street looking up at the 
 young Mexican Captain Avith his cold 
 gray eyes that had in them never a light 
 of pity. As the press gathered about 
 him, the rifle crept straight to the front 
 and rested there a moment, fixed as fate. 
 It looked as if he was aiming at a flow- 
 er — the dark oliA'e beauty of the Span- 
 iard Avas so superb. 
 
 " Spare h:im !" shouted a dozen 
 reckless soldiers in a breath, "he is too 
 young and too handsome to die." 
 
 In vain ! A sharp, sudden ring was the 
 response; the Captaiu tossed his arms 
 high in the air, leaped up suddenly as if 
 to catch something aboAe his head, and 
 fell foi'ward upon liis face, a corpse. A 
 Avail of Avomen arose upon the sultry 
 evening — such as maA haA'^e been heard 
 in DaATd's household when back fioni 
 the tangled brush w(K)d they brought the 
 beautiful Absalom. 
 
 "The lil'e upon lijs yi.?ll<>w liuir, 
 But not Avitliiu his eyes." 
 
 The Avork that followed Avas ([iiick 
 enough aud deadly enough to appal the 
 stoutest. Seventeen Mexicans Avere kil- 
 led, iucluding the Captain, together with 
 
2S 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 tlie two Americans who had caused the 
 encounter. The third, strange to say, 
 recovered from his gliastly wound, and 
 can tell to this day, if he still lives, of 
 the terrible prowess of that American 
 soldier who shredded his arm away as a 
 scythe blade might a handful of sum- 
 mer wheat. 
 
 A dreadful commotion fell upon Pie- 
 dras Negras after the battle in the street 
 had been finished. The long roll was 
 beaten, and the Mexican garrison rush- 
 ed to arms. Shelby's men were infuri- 
 ated beyond all immediate control, and 
 mounted their horses without orders for 
 a further battle. One detachment, led 
 by Williams, swept down to where the 
 artillery and ammunition wagons were 
 packed and dispersed the guard after a 
 rattling broadside. Langhorne laid 
 hands upon the Custom-house and hud- 
 dled its sentinels in a room as so many 
 boys that needed punishment. Separate 
 parties under Fell, Wmship, Henry 
 Chiles, Kirtley, Jim Wood and Martin 
 Kirtzer seized upon the skiffs and the 
 boats at the wharf. They meant to pil- 
 lage and sack the town, and burn it af- 
 terward. Women went wailing through 
 the streets; the church bells rang furi- 
 ously ; windows were darkened and bar- 
 ricaded ; and over all the din and tur- 
 moil—the galloping of horses, and 
 the clanking of steel — arose the 
 harsh, gathering cry of 
 
 the Mexican long roll — sullen, 
 
 hoarse discordant. Shelby stormed at 
 his men, and threatened. For the first 
 and the last time in his career, they had 
 passed beyond his keeping. At a criti- 
 cal ;iuucture Governor Biesca rushed 
 down into the square, pale, his hat oif 
 pleading in impassioned Spanish, apolo- 
 gizing in all the soft vowels known to 
 that soft and sounding language. 
 
 Shelby would bow to him in great gi'a- 
 vity, understanding not one word, con- 
 versing in English Avhen the tide of 
 Spanish had run itself out : 
 
 "It's mostly Greek to me. Governor, 
 but the devil is in the boys, for all that." 
 
 Discipline triumphed at last, however, 
 and one by one the men came back to 
 
 their duty and their obedience. They 
 formed a solid, ominous looking column 
 in front of headquarters, dragging with 
 them the cannon that had been sold, 
 and the cannon they had captured from 
 the enemy. 
 
 "We want to sleep to-night," they 
 said, in their grim soldier humor, "and 
 for fear of Vesuvius, we have brought 
 the crater with us." 
 
 As the night deepened, a sudden calm 
 fell upon the city. Biesca had sent his 
 own troops to barracks, and had sworn 
 by every saint in the calendar that for 
 the hair of every American hurt he would 
 sacrifice a hetacomb of Mexicans. He 
 feared and not without cause, the now 
 throughly aroused and desperate men 
 who were inflamed by drink, and who 
 had good reason for much ill-will and 
 hatred. To Shelby's assurances 
 of safety he offered a multitude of bows, 
 each one more profound and more lowly 
 than the other, until at last, from the 
 game of war, the two chiefs had become 
 to play a game of diplomacy. Biesca 
 wanted his cannon 'back, and Shelby 
 wanted his money for them. In the end, 
 both were satisfied. 
 
 The men had gone to quarters, and 
 suijper was being cooked. To the feel- 
 ing of revenge had been added at last 
 one of forgiveness. Laughter and songs 
 issued again from the wine-shops. At 
 this moment a yell was heard — a yell 
 that was a cross between an Indian war- 
 whoop and a Mexican cattle -call. A 
 crowd of soldiers gathered hastily in 
 the street. Again the yell was repeated, 
 this time nearer, clearer, shriller than 
 before. Much wonderment ensued. 
 The' day had been one of surprises. To 
 a fusilade there was to be added a frolic. 
 Up the street leading from the river, 
 two men approached slowly, having a 
 third man between them. When near 
 enough, the two first were recognized as 
 the soldiers, Joseph Moreland and Wil- 
 liam Fell. The other man, despite the 
 swarthy hue of his countenance, was 
 ghastly pale. He had to be dragged 
 rather than led along. Fell had his sabre 
 drawn, Moreland his revoh^er. The first 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 29 
 
 was fierce enough to perform amputa- 
 tion ; the last suave enougli to adminis- 
 ter chloroform. 
 
 When Moreland reached the edge of 
 the crowd he shouted : 
 
 " Make way, Mlssourians, and 
 therefore barbarians, for the only 
 living and animated specimen of 
 the genus Polyglott now upon the 
 North American continent. Look at 
 him, you heathens, and uncover your- 
 selves. Draw nigh to him, you savages, 
 and fall upon your knees. Touch him, 
 you blood- drinkers, and make the sign 
 of the cross." 
 
 "What did you call him f asked Ar- 
 mistead. 
 
 "A Polyglott, you Fejee Islander; a 
 living dictionary ; a human mausoleum 
 with the bones of fifty languages ; a 
 himi3 nattirae in a land of garlic, stilettos, 
 and straw hats." 
 
 The man himself was indeed a curiosi- 
 ty. Born of Creole parents in New Or- 
 leans, he had been everywhere and had 
 seen everything. When captured, he 
 was a clerk in the Custom-house. 
 French, Spanish, English, Italian, Ger- 
 man, modern Greek, Gumbo French, 
 Arabic, Indian dialects without number, 
 and two score or so of patois rolled oft 
 from his tongue in harsh or honied ac- 
 cents accordingly as the vowels or the 
 consonants were uppermost. He charm- 
 ed Shelby from the beginning. When 
 he felt that he was free his blood began 
 to circulate again like Quicksilver. In- 
 vited to supper, he remained late over 
 his wine, singing songs in all manner of 
 languages, and boasting in all manner 
 of tongues. When he bowed himself 
 out, his voice had in it the benediction 
 that follows prayer. 
 
 That night he stole two thousand dol- 
 lars. 
 
 The money for the arms and the am- 
 munition had been stored in the Custom- 
 house and he had the key. The next 
 morning a sack was missing. Biesca 
 swore, Shelby seemed incredulous, the 
 Polyglott only smiled. Between the 
 oath and the smile there was tins differ- 
 ence : the first came fi'om empty 
 
 pockets, the last from more mo- 
 ney than the pockets could 
 hold. Master of many languages, he 
 ended by being master of the situation. 
 
 In the full flow of the Polyglott's elo- 
 quence, however, Shelby forgot his loss, 
 and yielded himself again to the invin- 
 cible charms of his conversation. When 
 they parted for the last time Shelby had 
 actually given him a splendid pistol, 
 ivory-handled, and wrought about the 
 barrel with gold and figure work. So 
 much for erudition. Even in the des- 
 ert there are date and palm trees. 
 
 The formal terms of the transfer were 
 concluded at last. Biesca received his 
 arms, paid his money, buried the dead 
 soldiers, and blessed all who came into 
 Piedras Negras and went out from it. 
 His last blessings were his best. They 
 came from his heart, and from the hap- 
 py consciousness that the Americans 
 were about to depart forever from the 
 midst of his post of honor and his pos- 
 sessions. 
 
 Marching southward from the town, 
 the column had reached the rising 
 ground that overlooked the bold sweep 
 of the rapid river, the green shores of 
 Texas beyond, the fort on the hill, from 
 which a battered Confederate flag yet 
 hung, and a halt was called. Eear and 
 van the men were silent. All eyes were 
 turned behind them. Some memories 
 of home and kindred may have come 
 then as dreams come in the night, some 
 placid past may have outlined itself as a 
 mirage against the clear slvy of the dis- 
 tant north, some voice may have spoken 
 even then to ears that heard and heed- 
 ed, but the men made no sign. The 
 bronzed faces never softened. As 
 the ranks closed up, waiting, 
 a swift horseman galloped up from the 
 town — a messenger. He sought the 
 leader and found him by instinct. 
 
 ''Amigo,''' he said, giving his hand to 
 Shelby. 
 
 "Friend, yes. It is a good name. 
 Would you go with us '?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What will you have f 
 
 "One last word at parting. Once upon 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 a time in Texas an American was kind 
 to me. Maybe lie saved my life. I 
 would believe so, because I want a rea- 
 son for wbat is done between ns." 
 
 "Speak out fairly, man. If you need 
 help, tell me." 
 
 "No hel]), Senor, no money, no horses, 
 no friendship — none of these. Only a 
 few last words." 
 
 "What are they f 
 
 "Beware of the Salinas-! 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 The Salinas Avas a rivei', and \vh.y 
 should one beware of it ? Its water was 
 cool, the shade of its trees grateful, its 
 pasturage abundant, and why then 
 should tlie command not rest some liap- 
 l>y days upon its further banks, sleeping 
 and dreaming? Because of the am- 
 bush. 
 
 Where the stream crossed tJie high, 
 hiu'd road leading down to Monterey, it 
 ])resented on either side I'ougii edges of 
 lock, slippery and unontaiu. To the 
 left some falls appeared. In the mad 
 yortex of water, ragged pinnacles reared 
 tliemselves up, hoary with the white 
 spray of the breakers— grim cut-throats 
 in ambush in mid river. 
 
 Below these falls there were yet otlier 
 crossings, and above them only two. 
 Beyond the fords no living thing could 
 make a passage sure. Quicksands and 
 jirecipices abounded, and even in its 
 solitude the river had fortified itself. 
 Tower, and moat, and citadel all were 
 there, and when the fiood-time came the 
 Salinas was no longer a river — it was a 
 barrier that was impassable. 
 
 All the country round about was deso- 
 late. AVhat the Freucli had spared the 
 guerrillas had finislied. To be sure that 
 no liuman hal)itcition was left, a power- 
 ful war party of Lipun Indians came af- 
 ter the guerrillas, speiiring the cattle 
 and demolishing the farming imide- 
 ments. These Lipans were a cruel and 
 ferocious tribe, dwelling in the moun- 
 tains of Sonora, and descending to the 
 ]>lains to slaughter and desohitc. Fleetly 
 
 mounted, brave at an advantage, shoot- 
 ing golden bullets oftener than leaden 
 ones, crafty as all Indians are, superior 
 to all Mexicans, served by women whom 
 they had captured and enslaved, they 
 were crouched in ambush upon the 
 further side of the Salinas, four hundred 
 strong. 
 
 The weaker roblser wlien in presence 
 of the stronger is always the most 
 blood-thirsty. The lion will strike down, 
 but the jacl^al devours. The Lipans 
 luitfliciv'd and scalped, but the Mexicans 
 mutilated the dead and tortured the liv- 
 ing. 
 
 With the Lipans, therefore, there were 
 tiiree hundred native Mexicans, skilled 
 in all the intracacies of the chapparal — 
 keen upon all the scents which told of 
 human prey or plunder. As ghastly 
 skirmishers upon the outposts of the 
 ambushment, these had come a day's 
 march from the river to where a little 
 village was at peace and undefended. 
 As Shelby marched through there was 
 such handiwork visible of tiger prowess, 
 that he turned to Elliott, that grim 
 Saul who never smiled, aad said to him 
 curtly : 
 
 "Should the worst come to the woist, 
 keep one pistol luiil for yourself, Colo- 
 nel. Better suicide than a fate like 
 this." 
 
 The spectacle was horrible beyond 
 comparison. Men hung suspended from 
 door-facings literally flayed alive. Huge 
 strips of skin dangled fi'om them as 
 tattered garments might hang. Under 
 some a slow lire had been kindled, until 
 strangulation came as a tardy mercy tor 
 relief. There were the bodies of some 
 children among the slain, and one beau- 
 tiful woman, not yet attacked by the 
 elements, seemed only asleep. The men 
 hushed their rough voices as they rode 
 by her, and more than one face lit up 
 with a strange pitj' that had in it the 
 light of a terrible vengeance. 
 
 The village Avith its dead was left be- 
 hind, and a deep silence fell u])on the 
 column, rear and \au. The mood of the 
 stranger Englishman grew sterjier and 
 sadder, and when the night and the camp 
 
A\ UNWIUTTEX LKAF Ol' I'll I'. WATi. 
 
 t'iinie, lie looked more keenly to his anus 
 tliaii was Ills wont, and seemed to take a 
 deeper interest in his horse. 
 
 Gen. Magnider rode that day with the 
 men— the Third ol: July. "To-morrow 
 will be the Fourth, boys," lie said, when 
 dismonntiug-, "and perhaps w^o shall 
 have fire-works.'" 
 
 Two deserters —two Austrians from 
 the Foreign Lei^ion under Jeauuingros 
 at Monterey — straggled into the jjicket 
 lines before tattoo and were brought di- 
 rectly to Shelby. They believed death 
 to be certain and so they told the truth : 
 
 "Where do you go?" asked Shelby. 
 
 "To Texas." 
 
 "And why to Texas?" 
 
 "For a home ; for any life other than 
 a dog's life ; for freedom, for a country." 
 
 "You are soldiers, and yet you desert'?" 
 
 "We were soldiers, and yet they made 
 robbers of us. We do not hate the Mex- 
 icans. They never harmed Austria, our 
 country." 
 
 "Where did you cross the Salinasf 
 
 "At the ford upon the main road." 
 
 "Who were there and what saw yon'?" 
 
 "No living thing, General. Nothing 
 but trees, and rocks, and water." 
 
 They spoke simple truth. Safer back 
 from an Indian jungle might these men 
 have come, than from a passage over the 
 Salinas with a Lipan and Mexican am- 
 biishment near at hand. 
 
 It was early in the afternoon of the 
 Fouith of July, 1865, when the column 
 approached the Salmas river. The 
 march had been long, hot and dusty. 
 The men were in a vicious humor, and 
 in excellent fighting condition. They 
 knew nothing of the ambiishment, and 
 had congratulated themselves upon 
 plentiful grass and reCresbing water. 
 
 Shelby called a halt and ordered for- 
 ward twenty men under command of 
 Williams to reconnoitre. As they were 
 being told off for the duty, the com- 
 mander spoke to his subordinate: 
 
 "It may be cliild's play or warrior's 
 work, but whatever it is, let me know 
 quickly." 
 
 Williams' blue eyes flashed. He had 
 caught some glimpses of the truth, and 
 
 he knew there was dangeialiead. 
 
 "Any further orders, General?" ho 
 asked, as he galloped away. 
 
 "None. Try the ford and penetrate 
 the brush beyond. If you And one rifle 
 barrel among the trees, l>e sure there a re 
 five hundred close at hand. Murderers 
 love to mass themselves." 
 
 AVilliams had ridden forward with his 
 detaclnnent some five minutes' s])ace, 
 when the column was again put in mo- 
 tion. From the halt to the river's bank 
 was an hour's ride. Before commencing 
 [ the ride, however, Shelby had grouped 
 together his officers, and thus addressed 
 them : 
 
 Yon know as well as I do what is wait- 
 ing for us at the river , wliichkuovdedge 
 is simply nothing at all. This side Pie- 
 dras Negras a friendly Mexican spoke 
 some words at parting, full of warn- 
 ing and doubtless siuceie. He at least 
 believed in danger, and so do I. AVil- 
 liams has gone forward to flush the 
 game, if game there be, and here before 
 separating I wish to make the rest plain 
 to 3^011. Listen, all. Above and below 
 the main road, the road we are now 
 upon, there are fords where men might 
 cross at ease and horses find safe and 
 certain footing. I shall try none of 
 them. AA^hen the battle opens, and the 
 bugle call is heard, you will form your 
 men in fours and follow me. The ques 
 tion is to gain the further bank, and after 
 that we shall see." 
 
 Here something of the old battle ar- 
 dor came back to his face, and his eyes 
 caught the eyes of his officers. Like 
 his own, they were full of flre and high 
 resolve. 
 
 "One thing more," he said, "before we 
 inarch. Come here, Elliott." 
 
 The scarred man came, quiet as the 
 great horse he lode. 
 
 'TTou will lead thefolorn hope. It will 
 take ten mtn to form it. That is 
 enough to give up of my precious ones. 
 Call for volunteers — for men to take the 
 water first, and draw the first merciless 
 fire. After that, we will all be in at 
 the death. 
 
 Ten were called for, two hundred re- 
 
32 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 sponded. They had but scant knowl- 
 edge of what was needed, and scantier 
 care. In the ranks of the ten, however, 
 there were those who were fit to fight 
 for a kingdom. They were Maurice 
 Langhorne, James Wood, George Win- 
 ship, William Fell, Ras. Woods, James 
 Kirtley, McDougall, James Rudd, James 
 Chiles and James Cundilt". 
 
 Cundiff is staid, and happy, and an 
 editor sans peur et sans reproche to-day 
 in St. Joseph. He will remember, amid 
 all the multifarious work of his hands 
 — his locals, his editorials, his type-set- 
 ting, liis ledger, his long nights of toil 
 and worry — and to his last day, that ter- 
 rible charge across the Salinas, water 
 to the saddle-girths, and seven hundred 
 muskets pouring forth an unseen and 
 infernal fire. 
 
 The march went on, and there was no 
 news of Williams. It was three o'clock 
 in the afternoon. Tlie sun's rays seem- 
 ed to penetrate the very flesh. Great 
 clouds of dust arose, and as there was 
 no wind to carry it away, it settled 
 about the men and the horses as a gar- 
 ment that was oppressive. 
 
 Elliott kept right onward, peering 
 straight to the front, watching. Be- 
 tween the advance and the column some 
 two hundred paces intervened. When the 
 ambush was struck this distance had de- 
 creased to one hundred paces — when the 
 work was over the two bodies had be- 
 come one. Elliott was wounded and 
 under his dcttd horse, Cuudifif was 
 wounded, Langhorne was wounded, 
 Winship was wounded, and Wood, and 
 McDougall, and Fell. Some of the dead 
 were never seen again. The falls be- 
 low the ford received them and the falls 
 buried them. Until the judgment day, 
 perhaps, will they keep their precious 
 sepulchres. 
 
 Over beyond the yellow dust a long 
 green line arose against the horizon. 
 This was the further edge of the Sa- 
 linas, dense with trees, and cool in the 
 distance. The column had reached its 
 shadow at last. Then a short, sharp 
 volley came from the front, and then a 
 great stillness. One bugle note followed 
 
 the volley. The coliimu, moved by a 
 viewless and spontaneous impulse, form- 
 ed into fours and galloped on to the 
 river — Elliott leading, and keeping his 
 distance well. 
 
 The volley which came from the front 
 had been poured suddenly into the face 
 of Williams. It halted him. His orders 
 were to uncover the ambush, not to at- 
 tack it, and the trained soldier knew as 
 well the number waiting beyond the 
 river by the ringing of their muskets as 
 most men would have known after the 
 crouching forms had beeii seen and 
 counted. 
 
 He retreated beyond range and wait- 
 ed. Elliott passed on beyond and 
 formed his little band — the|ten daunt- 
 less volunteers who were anxious to go 
 first and who were not afraid to die. 
 
 Shelby halted the main column still 
 further beyond rifle range and galloped 
 straight up to Williams: 
 
 "You found them, it seemi." 
 
 "Yes, General." I 
 
 "How many*?" I 
 
 "Eight hundred at the lea|t." 
 
 "How armed V | 
 
 "With muskets." I 
 
 "Good enough. Take your place in 
 the front ranks. I shall lead the col- 
 umn." 
 
 Turning to Elliott, he continued : 
 
 "Advance instantly. Colonel. The 
 sooner over the sooner to sleep. Take 
 the water as you find it, and ride straight 
 forward. Williams says there are eight 
 hundred, and Williams is rarely mista- 
 ken. Forward !" V 
 
 Elliott placed himself at the head of 
 his forlorn hope and drew his sabre. 
 With those who knew him, this meant 
 grim work somewhere. Cundiff spoke 
 to Langhorne upon his right: 
 
 "Have you said your :prayers, Cap- 
 tain ?" 
 
 "Too late now. Those who pray best 
 pray first." ; 
 
 From a walk the horsed moved into a 
 trot. Elliott threw his eiyes backward 
 over his men and cried out: 
 
 "Keep your pistols dry. It will be 
 hot work on the other side." 
 
AN i-wvuri' iKN i.r:Ai<" ok thk \y\n. 
 
 1"? 
 
 The volley which came from the trout 
 had beeu poiued suddenly iuto the face 
 of Williams. It halted hira. His orders 
 were to uucover the ambush, uot to at- 
 tack it, rtud the trained soldier knew as 
 well the number waitiug beyond the 
 liver by the ringing of their nuiskets as 
 most men would have known after the 
 crouching forms had been seen and 
 counted. 
 
 He retreated beyond range and wait- 
 ed. Elliott passed on beyond and 
 formed his little band— the ten daunt- 
 less volunteers who were anxious to go 
 first and who were not afraid to die. 
 
 Slielby halted the main column still 
 farther beyond rifle range and galloped 
 straight up to Williams: 
 
 "You found them, it seems." 
 
 "Yes, General.*' 
 
 "How many?" 
 
 "Eight lumdred at the least.'' 
 
 "How armed ?" 
 
 "AVith muskets." 
 
 "Good enough. Take your place in 
 the front ranks. I shall lead the col- 
 umn." 
 
 Turning to Elliott, he continued : 
 
 "Advance instantly, Colonel. The 
 «)oner over the sooner to sleep. Take 
 the water as you find it, and ride straight 
 on. Williams says there are eight 
 hundred, and Williams is rarely mista- 
 ken. Forward !" 
 
 Elliott placed himself at the head of 
 his forlorn hope and drew his sabre. 
 With those who kuew liim, this meant 
 glim work somewhere. Cundift spoke 
 to Langliorne ujjon his right: 
 
 "Have you said your prayers, Cap- 
 tain ?" 
 
 "Too late now. Those who pray best 
 ])ray iirst." 
 
 From a walk the horses moved into a 
 tvot. Elliott threw bis eyes backward 
 over his men and cried out: 
 
 "Keep your pistols dry. It will be 
 hot work on the other side." 
 
 As they struck the wate.' some Indian 
 skirmishers in front of the ambush 
 opened fire. The bullets threw- the 
 white foam up in front of the leading 
 
 •A 
 
 tiles, but did no «lannige. By and by th« 
 stray shots deepened into a volley. 
 
 Elliott spoke again, and no more atter 
 until the battle was tluished : 
 
 "Steady, men ! " 
 
 Vain warning! The rocks w^ere not 
 surer and firmer. In the re:ir the vo\- 
 umu, four deep and well in hand, thun- 
 dered after the advance. Struggling 
 through the deep water, Elliott gained 
 the bank unscathed. Then the figlit 
 grew desperate. The skirmishers were 
 driven in pell-mell, the ten men pressing 
 on silently. As yet no American had 
 fired a pistol.. A yell arose from the 
 woods, long, wild, piercing — a yell that 
 had exultation and murder in it. Wild- 
 ly shnll and defiant, Shelby's bugle an- 
 swered it. Then the woods in a mo- 
 ment started into internal life. Seven 
 hundred muskets flashed out from the 
 gloom. A powder pall enveloped the 
 advance, and when the smoke lifted El- 
 liott was under his dead horse, badly 
 wounded ; Cundift 's left arm was drip- 
 ping blood; Langhorne, and Winship, 
 and McDougall were down and bleed- 
 ing ; Fell, shot through the thigh, still 
 kept his seat, and Wood, his left wrist 
 disabled, pressed on with the bridle in 
 his teeth, and his right arm using his 
 unerring revolver. Kirtley, and Rudil, 
 and Chiles, and Ras. Woods, alone of 
 the ten were untouched, and they stood 
 over theii' fallen comrades, fighting des- 
 perately. 
 
 This terrible volley had reached the 
 column in the river, and a dozen sad- 
 dles were emptied. The dead the falls 
 received; the wounded were caught up 
 by their comrades and saved fi-om death 
 l)y drowning. Shelby pressed right on- 
 ward. At intervals the stern notes of 
 the bugles lang out, and at intervals 
 a great hearty cheer came from the 
 ranks of the Americans. Some horses 
 fell in the stream never to rise again, 
 tor the bullets plowed up the column 
 and made stark work on eveiy side. 
 None faltered, Pouring up from the 
 river as a great tide the men galloped 
 into line on the right and left of the road 
 and waited under fire until the las<^ man 
 
H 
 
 sHj5t3BY*s «xp:fet)!tTiox I'o MKxico ; 
 
 had made his landing sure. The En- 
 glishman rode bv Shelby's side, a battle- 
 light on his fair face — a face that was, 
 alas! too soon to be wan and gray, and 
 drawn with agony. 
 
 The attack was a hurricane. There- 
 after no man knew how the killing went 
 on. The battle was a massacre. The 
 Mexicans first broke, and after them the 
 Indians. No quarter was shown. "Kill," 
 "kill," resounded from the woods, and 
 the roar of the revolver volleys told how 
 the Americans were at work. The En- 
 glishman's horse was killed. He seized 
 another and mounted it. Fighting on 
 the right of the road, he went ahead 
 even of his commander. The mania of 
 battle seemed to have taken possession 
 of his brain. A musket ball shat- 
 tered his left leg from the ankle to the 
 knee. He tm-ned deadly pale, but he 
 did not halt. Fifty paces further, and 
 another ball, striking him fair in the 
 breast, knocked him clear from the sad- 
 dle. This tune he did not rise. The 
 blood that stained all his garments 
 crimson was his life's blood. He saw 
 death creeping slowly towards him with 
 outstretched skeleton hands, and he 
 faced him with a smile. The rough, 
 bearded men took him up tenderly and 
 bore him backward to the river's edge. 
 His wounds was dressed and a soft 
 bed of blankets made for him. 
 in vain. Beyond human care or skill, 
 lie lay in the full glory of the summer 
 sunset, waiting for something he had 
 tried long and anxiously to gain. 
 
 The sounds of the strife died away. 
 While pursuit was worth Anctims, the 
 I)ursuit went ou — merciless, vengeful, 
 unrelenting. The dead were neither 
 counted nor biuied. Over two hundred 
 fell in the chapparal and died there. 
 Tlie impenetrable iiature of tlie under- 
 growth alone saved the remainder of 
 the fugitives. Hundreds abandoned 
 their horses and threw away their guns. 
 Not a prisoner remained to tell oi" the 
 ambush or the number of the toe. 
 The victory was dearly bought, how- 
 ever. Thirty-seven wounded on the 
 pai't of Shelby needed care ; nineteen of 
 
 his dead were buried before tl\e sun 
 went down ; and eight the waters of the 
 river closed over until the judgment day. 
 
 An hoitr before sunset the English- 
 man was stnll alive. 
 
 "Would you have a priest?" Shelby 
 asked of him, at he bent low over the 
 wounded man, great marks of pain on 
 his fair, stern face. 
 
 "None. No word nor prayer can 
 avail me now. I shall die as I have 
 lived." 
 
 "Is there any message you would 
 leave behind '? Any token to those who • 
 may watch and wait long for your com- 
 ing 1 Any farewell to those beyond the 
 sea, who know and love you 1 " 
 
 His eyes softened just a little, and the 
 old hunted look died out from his fea- 
 tures. 
 
 "Who among you speaks French?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Governor Reynolds," was the reply. 
 
 "Send him to me, please." 
 
 It was done. Go\ ernor Reynolds ca nie 
 to the man's be<lside, antl with him a 
 crowd of soldiers. He motioned them 
 away. His last words on earth were lor 
 the ears of one man alone, and this is 
 his confession, a free translation of 
 which was given the author by Goreruor 
 Reynolds, the original being jiiaced in 
 the hands of tiie British Minister in 
 Mexico, Sir James Scarlett : 
 
 "I was the youngest son of an English 
 Baron, born, perhaps, to bad luck, and 
 certainly to ideas of life that were crude 
 and unsatisfactory. TJie army was 
 opened to me, and I entered it. A lieu- 
 tenant at twenty-two in the Fourtii 
 Royals^ I hatl but one ambiticui, that to 
 rise m my prol'essioi] and take rank 
 among the great soldiers of the nation. 
 I studied liard, and soon mastered tlie 
 iutricacies of the art, but jironiotion was 
 not easy, and there was no war. 
 
 "In barracks the life is an idle one 
 with the officers, and at times they grow 
 impatient and tit for much that is repre- 
 hensible and unsoldierly. We Were 
 quartered at Tyrone, in Ireland, where 
 a young girl lived who was faultlessly 
 fair and beautiful. She was the toast 
 
AN UiSnvpiTTKN LKAF OF THE WAK. 
 
 .-^5 
 
 of the regiment. Other officers oldei- 
 aud colder than myself ivdmii-ed her and 
 riattered her; I praised her a)id wor- 
 shipped her. Perhaps it was an infatu- 
 ation ; to me at least it was immortality 
 and reliirion. 
 
 "One day, 1 remember it yi'l, ior men 
 are apt to remember those tilings which 
 change the \vht)le current of the blood, 
 1 sought her out and told her 
 of my love. Whether at my 
 vehemence or my desi>erati«fn, I know 
 not, bat she turned pale and would have 
 left me Avithout an answer. The sus- 
 pense was unbearable, and I pressed the 
 })Ooi- thing harder and harder. At last 
 she turned at bay, Hushed, wild, trefn- 
 ulous, and deelared througli her tears 
 that she did not and could not love me. 
 The rest Avas plain. A young cornet in 
 the same regiment, taller b.y a head than 
 I, and blonde and boyish, had baffled us 
 all, and had taken from me, what in my 
 bitter selhshuess, I could not see that I 
 never had. 
 
 "Maybe, my brain has not been al- 
 ways clear. Sometimes I have thought 
 that a cloud Avould come betw^een the 
 past and the present, and that I could 
 not see plainly what had taken place iu 
 all the desolate days of my valueless 
 life. Sometimes I have prayed, too. I 
 l>elieve even the devils pray, no matter 
 how impious or useless such prayers 
 may be. 
 
 "I need not detail all tbe ways a 
 baffled lover has to overthrow the lover 
 who is successful. I pursued the 
 coraet with insults and bitter words, 
 and yet he avoided me. One day 1 
 struck him, and such was the indigna- 
 tion exhibited by his conuades, that he no 
 longer considered. A challenge followed 
 the blow, and then a meeting. Good 
 people say that the devil helps his own. 
 Caring very little for Cxod or devil, I 
 fought him at daylight and killed hnn. 
 Since then 1 have been an outcast and a 
 wanderer. Tried by a military commis- 
 sion and disgraced from all rank, 1 w'eut 
 first to India and sought desperate sei- 
 vice wherever it was to be found. 
 Woftuded often and scorc-hed by fever, I 
 
 could not die. In the Crimea the old, 
 hard fortune followed me, and it was 
 the same struggle with bullets that al- 
 AA ays gave j)aui without pain's antidote. 
 No rest anyw here. Perhaps I lived the 
 lite that was in me. Who knows? Let 
 him who is guiltless cast the first stone. 
 There is much blood upon my hands, 
 and heie and there a good deed that 
 will atone a little, it may be, in tlie end. 
 "Of my life in America it is needless to 
 talk. Aimless, objectless, miserable, 1 
 am here dying to-day as a ntan dies who 
 has neither fear nor hope. 1 thank yon 
 very much for your patienci', and for all 
 these good men would have done foi' 
 me, but the liour has come. Good-bye.'' 
 
 He lifted himsell: up and 
 turned his face fail' to 
 
 the west. Some beams of the setting 
 sun. like a benediction, rested upon the 
 long blonde hair, and upon the white set 
 lips, di-awu now and gray with agony. 
 No man spoke in all the rugged band, 
 flushed with \ict(U'y, and Avcaiy with 
 killing. In the trees a little breeze lin- 
 gered, and some birds flitted and sang, 
 though far apart. 
 
 For a fcAV moments tlie Englislnnan 
 lay as one asleep. Suddenly he roused 
 himself and spoke : 
 
 "It is so dreary to die in the night. 
 One likes to have the sunlight for this.'" 
 
 Gov. Reynolds stooped low as if to 
 listen, drew^ back, and whispered a 
 ]>rayer. The man Avas dead ! 
 
 CHAPTER VIIT. 
 
 Kvil tidings have Avings and fly as a 
 bird. Through some process, no matter 
 wiiat, and over some roads, no matter 
 where, the news AA'as cariied to Gen. 
 Jeannbigros, holding outermost w^atch 
 at Monterey, that Shelby had sold all 
 his cannon and muskets, all his ammu- 
 nition and Avar supplies, to Goa'. Biesca, 
 a loyal folloAver of Benito Juarez. 
 StraightAvay the Frenchman flcAv into a 
 passion and made some vows that were 
 illy kejtt. 
 
 "Let me but get my hands upon these 
 
SJIEI.BY S KXPKUITION TO MKXICO ; 
 
 Americans," he said, "tliese aiuaille, nud 
 after (bat we shall see." 
 
 He (lid get his hands upon tliein, but 
 iu lieu ot the sword they bore the olive 
 biauch. 
 
 The iiuirch into the interior troia the 
 Salinas river was slow and toilsome. 
 Very weak and sore, tlje wonnded liad 
 to be waited for and teiitterly eariied 
 alonj^'. To leave them would have been 
 to raurdei' them, for all tiie country was 
 up in anus, seekin.ir for some ad^ aiuage 
 which never came to aaiii the niiistery 
 ov<}r the Americans, At night and from 
 afar, tjie outlying guerillas would nuike 
 great show" of attack, dischargiug pla- 
 toons of musketrv at intervals, and 
 ehargiiig upon tJie picquets at intervals, 
 but never coming seriously to blows. 
 This kind of warfare, however, Av])ilc it 
 w^as not dangerous was auroying. It 
 interfered with the sleej) of the soldiers 
 and kept them constantly on the alert. 
 They greAv snlleti in some instances and 
 tlireatened reprisals. Shelby's unijeas- 
 iug vigilance detected tiie plot before it 
 had culminated, and one morning before 
 reaching Lampasas, he ordered the col- 
 umn under arms that he might talk to 
 the men. 
 
 " There are some signs among ,you 
 of bad discipline," he said, "and 1 
 have called you out that you may be 
 told of it. What have you to complain 
 about? Those who follow on your 
 track to kill y u f Very well, complain 
 of them if you choose, and tight them to 
 your heart's content, but lift not a sin- 
 gle hand against the Mexicans who are 
 at home and the non-combatants. We 
 are invaders, it is true, but we are not 
 murderers. Those wdio follow me are 
 incapable of this; those who are not 
 shall not follow me. From this moment 
 forward I regard you all as soldiers, and 
 if I am mistaken in my estimate, and if 
 amid the ranks of those Avho have obey- 
 ed me for four years some marauders 
 have crept in, I order now that upon 
 these a soldier's work be done. Watch 
 tliem well. He who robs, he who insults 
 w omen, he who oppresses the unarmed 
 and the aged, is an outcast to all the 
 
 good fellowsliip of this command and 
 sliall be driven forth as an enemy to us 
 all. Hereafter be as you have ever been, 
 brave, true and honorable." 
 
 There was no longer any more muti- 
 ny. The less disciplined felt the moral 
 pressure of their comrades and behaved 
 themselves. Th(5 more unscrupulous 
 set the Mexicans on one side and the 
 Americans on the other, and elected to 
 renuiiu peaceably in the ranks which 
 alone couhl slielter and protect them. 
 Tiie marches became shorter and the 
 bivouacs less pleasant and agreeable. 
 Although it was not yet time for the 
 rainy season, some rain fell in the more 
 elevated mountain ranges, and some 
 chilling nights made comfort impossi- 
 ble. N«»w nnd then some days of camp- 
 ing, too, were retiuisite— days in which 
 arras were cleaned and ammimition in- 
 spected j<'alousiy. The American horses 
 were undergoing accliinatization, :ind in 
 the inevitable fever which develops it- 
 sfilf, tlie affectionate cavalr\inan 
 sits by his horse night and 
 day lintil the crisis is passed. 
 Well nursed, this fever is not dangerous. 
 At the crisis, however, woe to the steed 
 who loses his blanket, and woe to the 
 rider who sleeps while tlie cold night 
 air is driving in death through every 
 pore. Accordingly as the perspiration 
 is checked or encouraged is the balance 
 for or against the life of the horse. 
 There, horses were gold, and hence the 
 almost paterii;)! solicitude. 
 
 Dr. John S. Tisdale, the lord of many 
 patients and pill-boxes to-day in Platte, 
 was the veteriuaiy^ surgeon, and from 
 the liealer of men he had become to be 
 the liealer of horses. Shaggy-headed 
 and wide of forehead in the regions o t 
 ideality, he had a new name for every 
 disease, and a new remedy for every 
 symptom. An excellent appetite had 
 given him a. hearty laugh. During all 
 the long night watches he moved about 
 as a Samaritan, his kindly face set in its 
 frame-work of gray — his fifty years 
 resting as lightly upon him as the night 
 air upon the mountains of San Juan de 
 Aguilar. He prayeth well who smokefch 
 
AN UNWIUI Tli.V I.KAF OF 'JllK WAR. 
 
 37 
 
 well, and tlie good Doctor's supplica- 
 tions went np all true and rugged many 
 a tirae from iiis ancient pii>e when the 
 hoar frosts fell and deep sleep came 
 down npon the camp as a silent angel to 
 scatter sweet dreams of home and na- 
 tive laud. 
 
 (lood nursing triumi)hed. The crisis 
 of the climate passed away, and from 
 tlic last tedious camp the column moved 
 rapidly on toward Lampasas. Dangers 
 thickened. (Jiontent to keep the guer- 
 lillas at 1)iiy. Shelby had permitted no 
 scouting parties and forlvidden all pur- 
 suit. 
 
 "Let them alone," he would say to 
 those eager for adventure, "and hus- 
 ba tid your streugtli. In a land of proba- 
 ble giants we have no need to hunt pos- 
 sible chinjei'as.' 
 
 These guerrillas, however, became 
 emboldened. On the trail of a timid or 
 wounded thing they are veritablewblves. 
 Their long gallop can never tire. In the 
 night they are sin>erb. Upon the flanks, 
 in the front or lear, it is oneetenlal am- 
 bush — one incessant rattle of musketiy 
 which harms nothing, but which yet 
 annoys like th<^ singing of mosquitoes. 
 Atlast they brought about a svrif t rec- 
 oning— oueof those suddeu things which 
 leave little behind save a trail of blood 
 and a moment of savjige killing. 
 
 The column had reached to within two 
 days' journey of liampasas. ISome spurs 
 of the mountain ran down to the road, 
 and some clusters of palm trees grouped 
 themselves at intervals V>y the wayside. 
 The i)alm is a pensive tree, having a 
 voice in the wind that is sadder than the 
 pine— a sober, solemn voice, a voice like 
 tlie sound of luffled cerements when the 
 coi-pse is given to tlie coffin. Even in 
 the sunlight they are dark ; even in the 
 tropics no vine clings to them, no blos- 
 som is born to them, no bird is housed 
 by them, and no flutter of wings makes 
 music for the:n. Strange and shav)ely, 
 and coldly chaste, they seem like human 
 and desolate things, standing all alone 
 in the midst of bixurious nature, un- 
 blessed of the soil, and unloved of the 
 dew and the sunshine. 
 
 In a giove of these the column halt<>d 
 for the night. IJeyond them was a past* 
 guarded by crosses. In that treacherous 
 land these are a growth indigenous to 
 the soil. They flourish nowhen- else 
 in sucli abundance, ^"^'herever a. deed 
 of violence is done, a cross is planted; 
 wherever a traveler is left upon his face 
 in a pool of blood, a cntss is reared; 
 wherever a, giave is made wherein lies 
 the murdered one, there is seen a cross. 
 ><o matter Avho does the deed — wliether 
 Indian, or don, or commandaute, a cross 
 must mark the S]>ot, and as the i)ious 
 wayfarer .iourneys by he lays all rever- 
 ently a stone at the feet of the sacred 
 symbol, breathing a pious prayer and 
 telling a bead or two for the soul's sal- 
 vation. 
 
 On the left a \\(»oded bluft ran down 
 abruptly to a stream. Beyond the 
 stream and uearthe palms, a grassy bot- 
 tom spread itself out, soft and grateful. 
 Here the blaulvcts were spread, and 
 here the horses grazed their till. A 
 young moon, clear and white, hung low 
 in the west, not srullen nor red, but a 
 tender moon full of the beams' tbat lov- 
 ers vseek, and full of the voiceless imag- 
 ery which gives passion to the songs of 
 the night, and pathos to deserted 
 and dejected sw^ains. 
 
 As the moon set the horses were 
 gathered together atui tethered in amid 
 the palms. Then a deep silence fell 
 upon the cami), for the sentinels weie 
 beyond its confines, and all withinside 
 slept the sleep of the tired and healthy. 
 It may have been midnight ; it cer- 
 tainly was cold and dark. The fires had 
 gone out, and there was a white mist 
 like a shroud creeping up the stream 
 and settling upon the faces of the sleep- 
 1 ers. On the tar right a single pistol 
 ! shot arose, clear and resonant. Shelby, 
 j who slumbered like a night bird, lifted 
 i himself up frotti his blankets and sjioke 
 I in an undertone to Thrailkill : 
 ! " Who has the post at the mouth of 
 i the pass?" 
 " Jo. Macey." 
 
 "Then something is stirring. Macey 
 never fired at a shadow in his life." 
 
3S 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITIOX TO MEXICO 
 
 The two men listened. One a grim 
 guerrilla himself, with the physique of 
 a Cossack and the hearing of a Coman- 
 che. The other having in his hands the 
 lives of all the silent and inert sleepers 
 lying still and grotesque under the white 
 sliroud of the mountain mist. 
 
 Nothing was heard for an hovir. The 
 two men went to sleep again, but not to 
 dream. Of a sudden and unseen the 
 mist was lifted, and in its place a sheet 
 of flame so neai' to the faces of the men 
 that it might have scorched them. Two 
 hundred Mexicans had crept down the 
 mountain, and to the edge of the stream, 
 and had tired point blank into the camp. 
 It seemed a miracle, but not a man was 
 touched. Lying flat upon the ground 
 and wrajiped up in their blankets, the 
 whole volley, meant to l>e murderous, 
 had swept over them. 
 
 Shelby was the first upon his feet. His 
 voice rang out clear and faialtless, and 
 without a tremor: 
 
 "Give them the revolver. Charge!" 
 
 Men awakened fiom deep sleep grap- 
 ple with spectres slowly. These Mexi- 
 cans were spectres. Beyond the stream 
 and in amid the sombre shadows of the 
 palme, they were invisible. Only the 
 powder-pall was on the water where rhe 
 mist had been. 
 
 Unclad, baretooted, heavy Avith sleep, 
 the men went straight for the mountain, 
 a levolver in each hand, Shelby lead- 
 ing. From spectres the Mexicans had 
 become to be bandits. No quarter was 
 given or asked. The rush lasted until 
 the game was flushed, the pursuit until 
 the top of the mountain was gained. 
 Over ragged rock, and cactus, and 
 <3afi:ger-trees the liurricaue poured. 
 The roar of the revolvers was deafen- 
 ing. Men died and made no' moan, 
 and the wounded were recognized only 
 by their voices. When it was ov^er the 
 Americans had lost in killed eleven and 
 in wounded seventeen, most of thelatter 
 slighlly, thanks to the darkness and the 
 impetuosity of the attack. In crawling 
 ui)on the camp, tlu^ Mexicans had teth- 
 ei-ed their horses upon the further side 
 of tlie loount^iu. The mos^ of these fell 
 
 into Shelby's hands, together with the 
 bodies of the two leaders, Juan Ansel- 
 mo, a renegade priest, and Antonio 
 Flores, a young Cuban who had sold his 
 sister to a wealthy haclendaro and 
 turned lobber, and sixty-nine of their 
 lolloweis. 
 
 It was noon the next day before the 
 march was resumed — uoou with the sun 
 shining upon the fresh graves of eleven 
 dauntless Americans sleeping their last 
 sleep, amid the i^alms and the crosses, 
 until the resurrection day. 
 
 Tbere was a gvnnd fandango at Lam- 
 pasas when the column reached the city. 
 The bronzed, foreign faces of the stran- 
 gers attracted much of curiosity and 
 more oi comnjent; but no notes in the 
 music jarred, no halt in the flying feet 
 of the dancers could be discovered. 
 Shelby camped just beyond the suburbs, 
 unwilling to trust his men to the blan- 
 dishments of so much beauty, and to 
 the perils of so much nakedness. 
 
 Stern caini) guards soon sentiuelletl 
 the soldiers, but as the night deepened 
 their devices increased, until a good 
 company had escaped all vigilance and 
 made a refugf sure with the sweet and 
 swarthy senoritas singing : 
 
 "O ven ! ama ! 
 
 Eres alma, 
 
 Soy cox'azon." 
 
 There were three men who stole out 
 together in mere wantonness and exu- 
 berance of life — obedient, soldierly men 
 — who Avere to bring back with them a 
 tragedy without a counterpart in all 
 their history. None saw Boswell, Walk- 
 er and Crockett depart— the whole com- 
 mand saw them return again, Boswell 
 slashed from chin to waist, Walker al- 
 most dumb from a bullet through 
 cheeks and tongue, anti tJiockett, sober 
 and unhurt, yet having over him the 
 sombre light of as wild a deed as any 
 that stands out from all the lawless past 
 of that lawless land. 
 
 I'hese ineu, when reaching Lampasas, 
 floated into the flood tide of the fandan- 
 go, and danced until the red lights 
 shone with an unnatural brilliancy — 
 until the tiery Catalan consmned what 
 little o1' discretion the dancing 
 
AN UXWRrTIKN LKAt'' n\- rllK WAK. 
 
 3^ 
 
 had left. They sallied out late ; 
 at ui^ht, tlnshed witli dvink, ' 
 and having- over them the j^laiuour 
 ot* euchantiug womeu. They walked 
 on apace in the direction of the camp, 
 singing snatches of Baccliaual songs, and 
 laughing boisterously under tlie moon- 
 light which flooded all the streets with 
 gold. In the doorway of a house a young 
 Mexican girl stood, her dark face look- 
 ing out eoquettishly fi'om her fringe of 
 dark hair. The men spoke to her, and 
 she. m her simple, girlish fashion, si)oke 
 to the men. In Mexico tliis meant no- 
 thing. They halted, however, and 
 Crockett advanced from the rest and 
 laid his hand npon the girl's shoulder. 
 Around her head and shoulders she 
 Avore a rchosa. This garment answers 
 at the same time for bonnet and bodice. 
 When ren)oved the head is uncovered 
 and the bosom is exposed. C'rockett 
 meant no real harm, although he asked 
 her for a kiss. Before she had replied 
 to hitn, he attempted to take it. 
 
 The hot Southern blood flared up all 
 of a sudden at this, and her dark eyes 
 grew furious in a moment. As she 
 drew back from him in proud scoru,the 
 rebosa ciiine off, leaving all her bosom 
 bare, the long, luxuriant liair falling 
 down upon and over it as a cloud that 
 would hide its purity and innocence. 
 Then she uttered alow, feminine cry as 
 a signal, followed instantly by a rusli of 
 men who drew kuiA^es and pistols a,s 
 they came on. The Americans had no 
 weapons. Not dreaming of dangei', and 
 being within sight almost of camp, they 
 had left their revolvers behind. Bos- 
 Avell Avas stabbed three times, though 
 not seriously, for he was a powerful 
 man, and fought his assailants ott'. 
 Walker Avas sliot through his tongue 
 and both cheeks, and Crockett,the cause 
 oi' the Avhole melee, escaped unhurt. 
 No puisiiit was attempted after the 
 first sw ift work Avas oa er. Wary of re- 
 prisals, the Mexicans hid themseh'^es as 
 suddenly as they had sallied out. There 
 Avas a young man, how'ever, who walked 
 <'lose to Crockett — a young Mexican Avho 
 spoke no word, and who yet kept pace 
 
 with the Ameriiian step by step. At 
 first he was not noticed. Before the 
 camp guards were reached, Crockett, 
 now completely j;obered, turned upon 
 him and asked : 
 
 " Why do you folloAV me ?" 
 
 " That you may lead me to vour Gen- 
 eral." 
 
 " What do you wish with mv Geu- 
 eral f 
 
 " Satisfaction." 
 
 At the filing in the city a patrol gnard 
 had been thrown out, who arrested 
 the whole part3^ and canied it straight 
 to Shelby. He was encamped upon a 
 wide margin of bottom land, having a 
 riA'er upon one side, ,and some low 
 mountain ridges upon the other. The 
 ground where the blankets were spread 
 Avas velvety with grass. 'I'here was a 
 I bright moon ; the air, blowing from the 
 grape gardens and the apricot orchards 
 of Lampasas, was fragrant and delicious, 
 and the soldiers Avere not sleeping. 
 
 Under the solace of such surroundings 
 Shelby had relaxed a little of that grim 
 severity he always manifested toward 
 those guilty of unsoldierly conduct, and 
 spoke not harshly to the three men. 
 When made acquainted with their hurts, 
 he dismissed them instantly to the care 
 of Dr. Tisdale. 
 
 Crockett and the Mexican still linger- 
 ed, and a croAvd of some fifty or sixty 
 had gathered around. The first told his 
 story of the melee, and told it truthful- 
 ly. The man Avas too brave to lie. As 
 an Indian listening to the ap- 
 proaching footsteps of one Avhom 
 he intends to scalp, the 
 young -Mexican listened as a granite 
 pillar vitalized to the Avhole recital. 
 When it was finished he Avent up close 
 to Shelby, and said to him, ])ointing his 
 finger at Crockett : 
 
 ''That man has outraged my sister. I 
 could have killed him, but I did not. 
 You Americans are brave, I knoAv; will 
 you be generous as well, and give me 
 satisfaction ?" 
 
 Shelby looked at Crockett, whose 
 bronzed face, made sterner in the moon- 
 light, had upon it a look of curiosity. 
 
40 
 
 SHELBY S EXi'fiDrnON TO MEXICO ; 
 
 He at least did not understand what was 
 coming. 
 
 "Does the Mexican speak truth, Crock- 
 ett?" was the question asked by the 
 commander of his soldier. 
 
 "Partly ; but I meant no harm to the 
 woman. I am incapable of that. Drunk 
 1 know I was, and reckless, but not wil- 
 lully guilty, General." 
 
 Shelbj' rej^arded him coldly. His voice 
 AYas so stern wiieu he spoke again that 
 the brave soldier hung his head : 
 
 "What business .had you to lay 
 your hands upon her at all ? 
 How often must I repeat to 
 you that the man who does these tilings 
 is no follower of mine '? Will you give 
 her brother satisfaction "?" 
 
 He drew his revolver almost Joyfully 
 and stood j^roudly up, facing his accus- 
 er. 
 
 "No ! no ! not the pistol !" cried the 
 Mexican ;" I do not understand the 
 pistol. The knife, Senor General ; is 
 tiie American afraid of the knife V 
 
 He displayed, as he spoke, a keen, 
 glittering knife and held it up in the 
 moonlight. It was white, and lithe, and 
 shone in contrast with the dusky hand 
 which grasped it. 
 
 Not a muscle of Crocketfs face moved. 
 He spoke almost gently as he turued'to 
 his General : 
 
 "The knife, ah ! well, so be it. Will 
 some of you give me a knife V 
 
 A knife was handed iiim and a ring 
 was made. About four hundred sol- 
 diers formed the outside circle of this 
 ling. These, bearing torches in then- 
 hands, casta red glare of light upon tlie 
 arena. Tlie ground under foot was as 
 velvet. The moon, not yet full, and the 
 sky without a cloud, rose over all, calm 
 and peaceful in the summer night. A 
 hush as of ex))ectancy, fell upon the 
 camp. Those wlio were asleep, slept 
 on; those who were awake seemed as 
 under the influence of an intangible 
 dream. 
 
 iShelby did not forbid the tight. He 
 knew it was a duel to the death , and 
 some of the desperate spirit of the com- 
 
 batants passed into his own. He merely 
 spoke to an aide : 
 
 "Go for Tisdale. When the steel has 
 finished the surgeon may begin." 
 
 Both men stepped fearlessly into the 
 arena. A third form was there, unseen, 
 invisible, and even in /*/.9 presence the 
 traits of the two nations were upper- 
 most. Tlie Mexican made the sign of 
 the cross, the American tightened his 
 sabre belt. Both may have prayed, 
 neither, however, audibly. 
 
 They had no seconds— perhaps none 
 were needed. The Mexican took las 
 stand about midway the arena and wait- 
 ed. Crockett grasped his knife firmly 
 and advanced upon him. Of tlie two, 
 he was taller by a head and jihysicaily 
 the strongest. Constant familiarity 
 with danger for four years had given 
 him a confidence the Mexican may not 
 have felt. He had been wounded three 
 times, one of whicli wounds was scarcely 
 healed. This took none of his man- 
 hood from him, howevei-. 
 
 Neithei' spoke. The torches flared a 
 little in the night Aviud, now beginning 
 to rise, and the long grass rustled curtly 
 under foot. Afterwards its green had 
 become crimson. 
 
 Between them some twelve inches of 
 space now intervened. The men had 
 fallen back upon the right and the left 
 for their commander to see, and he 
 stood l(x>king fixedly at tlie two as he 
 would upon a line of battle. Never be- 
 fore h ad lie gaze d upon so stran ge a si g1 1 1 . 
 That great circle of bronzed faces, eager 
 and fierce in the flare of torches, had 
 something monstrous yet grotesciue 
 about it. The civilization of the century 
 had been rolled back, and they were in 
 a Roman circus, looking do\^ n ujion the 
 arena, crowded with ghxdiators and ju- 
 bilant with that strangest of war-cries : 
 Montnn U scUntant! 
 
 The attack was the lightuiug's flash. 
 1 he Mexican lowered his head, set his 
 teeth hard, and sstruck fairly at Crock- 
 ett's breast. The Ameiicau made a halt' 
 face to the right, threw his left arm for- 
 ward as a shield, gathered the deadly 
 
A>J UNVVinTTKN LEAF OK TlIK W A K . 
 
 4' 
 
 steel in his shoulder to the hilt and 
 struck home. How pitiful ! 
 
 A great stream of blood spurted iu his 
 face. The teuse form of the Mexican 
 l)ent as a willow wand in the wind, 
 swayed helplessly, and fell backward 
 lifeless, the knife rising up as a terrible 
 protest above tlie corpse. Tlie man's 
 heart was found. 
 
 Cover him up from sight. No need of 
 Dr. Tisdale here. There was a wail of 
 women on the still night air, a shudder 
 of regret among the soldiers, a dead 
 man on the grass, a sister broken-heart- 
 ed and alone for evermore, and a freed 
 spirit somewhere out iu eternity with 
 the unknown and tlie infinite. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Gen. Jeanningros held Monterey with 
 a garrison of live thousand French and 
 Mexican soldiers. Among them was 
 the Foreign Legion— composed of Amer- 
 icans, English, Irish, Arabs, Turks, Ger- 
 mans and negroes— and the Third 
 French Zouaves, a regiment unsurpass- 
 ed for courage and discipliue in anj 
 army in any nation on earth. Thisregi- 
 ment afteiwards literally passed away 
 from service at Graveiotte. Like the 
 Old Guard at Waterloo, it was destroy- 
 ed. 
 
 Jeanningros was a soldier who spoke 
 Euglisli, who had gray hair, who drank 
 absinthe, who liau been iu the army 
 thirty years, who had been wounded 
 thirteen times, and who was only a gen- 
 eral of brigade. His discipline was all 
 iron. Those who transgressed, those 
 who were found guilty at night were 
 shot iu the moruiog. He never spared 
 what the court martial liad condemned. 
 There was a ghastly dead wall in Mon- 
 terey—isolated, lonesome, forbidding, 
 terrible — which had seen many a stal- 
 wart form shudder and fall— many a 
 young, fresh, dauntless face go down 
 stricken iu the hush of the morning. 
 The face of this wall, covered all over 
 with warts, with excrescences, with 
 scars, had about it a horrible small -pox. 
 Where the bullets had plowed it up 
 were the traces of the pustules. The 
 uplashes of blood left by the slaughter, 
 6A 
 
 dried there. Iu the sunlight these shone 
 as sinister blushes upon the countenance 
 of that stony and inanimate thing, peer- 
 ing out from an inexorable ambush — 
 \Ti'aiting. 
 
 Speaking no word for the American, 
 and setting down naught to the credit 
 side of his necessities or his surround- 
 ings, those who had brought news lo 
 Jeanningros of Shelby's opera- 
 tions at Piedras Xegras had 
 told him as well of the can- 
 non sold as of the aims and ammunition. 
 Jeanningros had waited patiently and 
 had replied to them : 
 
 ''Wait awhile. We must catch them 
 before we hang them.'' 
 
 AVhile he was waiting to lay liainls 
 upon them, Shelby had marched to 
 within a mile of the French outposts at 
 Monterey. He came as a soldier, and lie 
 meant to do a soldier's work. Pickets 
 were thrown forward, the horses were 
 fed.and Gov. Reynolds put inmost excel- 
 lent French this manner of a note . 
 
 Gex. Jkaxxisgros, Commander at Mou- 
 terej' — General: 1 have the honor to re- 
 port that I am within one mile of your for- 
 tifications Avith uiy command. Preferring 
 exile to surrender, I have left my own 
 country to seek service in that held by 
 His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian. Shall it be peace or war between 
 us? II; the iornier, and with your peririis- 
 sion, I shall enter your lines at ouce,claiui- 
 lug at your hands that courtesy due from 
 one soldier to another. If the latter, I 
 propose to attack you immediately. 
 Very respectfully, j ours. 
 
 Jo. O. Shelby. 
 
 Improvisiiig a flag of truce, two feai- 
 less soldiers, John Thrailkill and Rainy 
 McKiuney, bore it boldly into the pub 
 lie square at Monterey. This flag 
 was an apparition. The long roll was 
 beaten, the garrison stood to their arms, 
 mounted orderlies galloped hither and 
 thither, and .Jeanningros himself, used 
 all his life to surprises, was attracted by 
 the soldierly daring of the deed. He re- 
 ceived the message and auswered it fa- 
 vorably, remarkin g to Thrailkill, as he 
 handed him the reply : 
 
 ''Tell your General to march in imme- 
 diately. He is the only soldier that has 
 yet come out of Yaukcedom.'' 
 
 Jeanningros' recepticm was as frank 
 and open as his speech. That night, at- 
 
^1 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 ter assigning? quarters to the men, be 
 gave a banquet to the officers. Among 
 those present were Gen. Magruder, Ex- 
 Senator Trusten Polk, Ex-Governor 
 Thomas C. Eeynohis, Gen. T. C. Hind- 
 man, Gen. E. Kirby Smith, Gen, John B. 
 Clark, Gen. Shelby, and many others 
 fond of talk, wine and adventure. Jean- 
 nin^oe was a superb host. His conver- 
 sation never tired of the Crimea, of Na- 
 peleon Ill's coup d'etat, of the Italian 
 campaign, of the march to Pekin, of Al- 
 igeria, of all the great soldiers he had 
 known, and of all the great campaigns 
 he had participated in. The civil war 
 in America was discussed in all of its 
 vivid and sombre lights, and no little 
 discussion carried on as to the probable 
 eftect peace would have upon Maximil- 
 ian's occupation of Mexico. Jeanning- 
 ros was emphatic in all of his declara- 
 tions. In reply to a question asked by 
 Shelby concerning the statesinansliip of 
 the Mexican Emperor, tlie French Gen- 
 eral replied : 
 
 "Ah ! the Austrian ; you shoiild see 
 him to understand him. More of a 
 «eholar than a king, good at botany, a 
 poet on occasions, a traveler who gath- 
 ers curiosities and writes books, a, saint 
 over his wine tuid a sinner a iuong his ci- 
 gars, in love with his wife,belicving mere 
 in manifest destiny than drilled battal- 
 ions, good Spaniard in all but deceit aud 
 treacherj% honest, earnest, tender-heart- 
 ed and sincere, his faith is too strong in 
 the liars who surround him, and his soul 
 is too pure for the deeds that must be 
 done. He cannot kill as we Frenchmen 
 do. He knows nothing of diplomacy. 
 In a nation of thieves and cut-throats, 
 he goes devoutly to mass, endows hos- 
 pitals, laughs a good man's langh at the 
 praises of the blanketed rabble, says his 
 prayers and sleeps the sleep of the gen- 
 tleman and the prince. Bah ! his days 
 are numbered; nor can all the power of 
 France keep his crown upon his head, 
 if, indeed, it can keep that head upon 
 kis shoulders." 
 
 The blunt soldier checked himself 
 suddenly. The man had spoken over 
 bis wine; the courtier never speaks. 
 
 "Has he the confidence of Bazaine V 
 asked Gen. Clark. 
 
 Jeanuingros gave one of those un- 
 translatable shrugs which are a volume, 
 and drained his goblet before replying : 
 
 "The Marshal, you mean. Oh ! the 
 Marshal keeps his own secrets. Besides, 
 I have not seen the Marshal since com- 
 ing northward. Do you go further. Gen. 
 Clark ?" 
 
 The diplomatist had met the diplo- 
 matist. Both smiled; neither referred 
 to the subject again. 
 
 Daylight shone in through the closed 
 shutters before the party separated — 
 the Americans to sleep, the Frenchman 
 to sign a death warrant. 
 
 A young Lieutenant of the Foreign 
 LegioB, crazed by that most damnable 
 of drinks, absinthe, had deserted from 
 outpost duty in a moment of temporary 
 iusauity. For three days he wandered 
 about, taking no note of men or things, 
 helpless and imbecile. On the morning 
 of the fourth day his reason was given 
 back to him. None knew better than 
 himself the nature of the precipice upon 
 which he stood. Before him lay the Eio 
 Grande, the succor beyond, an 
 asylum, safety; behind him the 
 court-martial, the sentence, the liorrible 
 wall, splashed breast high Avith blood, 
 the platoon, the levelled muskets — 
 deatli. He never faltered. Returning 
 to the outpost at which he had been 
 stationed, he saluted its officer and 
 said : 
 
 "Here I am." 
 
 "Indeed. And who are you T' 
 
 "A deserter." 
 
 "Ah ! but Jeanningros shoots deser- 
 ters. Why did you not keep on, since 
 you had started ?" 
 
 "No matter. I am a, Frenchman aii€ll 
 know how to die." 
 
 They brought him in while Jean- 
 ningros was drinking his generous wine, 
 and holding high reveliy with his 
 guests. When the morning came he 
 was tried. No matter for anything tLj 
 poor young soldier could say, and ho 
 said but little. At sunrise upon the nex . 
 moi'uing he was to die. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 43 
 
 When Jeaiiin,a:ros awoke late in the 
 afternoon there was a note for him. Its 
 contents, in substance, was as follows : 
 
 "I do not ask for my life— only for the 
 means of disposiuK of it. I liave an old 
 'i.iother in France who gave me to the 
 country and who blessed me as she said 
 good-bye. Under the law, Cxeneral, if I 
 -vu shot, my property goes to the state ; 
 M I ?ihoot myself my mother gets it. It 
 18 a i't tie thing a' soldier asks of his 
 Greiicral, who has medals, and honors, 
 and, maybe, a mother, too— but for the 
 sake of the uniform I wore at Solferino, 
 is it asking more than you can grant 
 when I ask for a revolver and a bottle 
 of brandy ?" 
 
 Through his sleepy, half-shut eyes, 
 Jeauningros read the message to the 
 end. When he had finished he called an 
 aide : 
 
 "Take to the commandant of the pri- 
 son this order." 
 
 The order was for the pistol and the 
 brandy. 
 
 'Ii?at afternoon and night the young 
 Lieutenant wrote, and drank, and 
 made his peace with all tiie world. 
 What laid beyond he knew not, 
 nor any man born of woman. There 
 was a little light in the east and a little 
 brandy in the bottle. But the letters 
 had all been written, and the poor 
 woman in France would get her just due 
 after all. 
 
 Tarn out the guard! 
 
 For what end? No need of soldiers 
 there— rather the coffin, the prayer of 
 tJie priest, the grave that God blessed 
 tfiough by man decreed unhallowed. 
 French to the last, the Lieutenant had 
 waited for the daylight, had finished his 
 bottle, and had scattered his brains over 
 the cold walls of his desolate prison. 
 Jeauningros heard the particulars duly 
 related, and had dismissed the Adjutant 
 with an epigram: 
 
 "Clever fellow. He was entitled to 
 two bottles instead of one." 
 
 Such is French discipline. All crimes 
 but one may be condoned— desertion 
 never. 
 
 Preceding Shelby's ariival in Monte- 
 rey, there had come also Col. Francois 
 Achille Dupin, a Frenchman who wbk 
 known as "The Tiger of the Tropics." 
 What he did would fill a volume. Re- 
 corded here, no reader would believe it 
 — no Christian would imagine such war- 
 fare possible. He wnis past sixty, tall as 
 Tecumseh, straight as a rapier, with a 
 seat in the saddle like an Engliab 
 guardsman, and a waist like a woman. 
 For deeds of desperate daring he had 
 received more decorations than could 
 be displayed upon the right breast of 
 his uniform. His hair and beard, snowy 
 white, contrasted strangely with a stem, 
 set face that had been bronzed by the 
 sun and the wind of fifty campaigns. 
 
 In the Chinese expedition, this man 
 had led the assault upon the Emperor's 
 palace, wherein no defender escaped the 
 bayonet and no woman the grasp of the 
 brutal soldiery. Sack, and pillage, and 
 murder, and crimes without a name all 
 were there, and when the fierce carnage 
 was done, Dupin, staggering under the 
 weight of rubies, and pearls, and dia- 
 monds, was a disgraced man. The in- 
 exorable jaws of a French court mai- 
 tial closed down upon him, and he was 
 dismissed from service. It was on the 
 trial that he parodied the speech of War- 
 ren Hastings and declared : 
 
 "When I saw mountains of gold and 
 precious stones piled up around me, and 
 when I think of the paltry handfulls 
 taken away, by G— d, Mr. President, I 
 am astonished at my own moderation.'^ 
 
 As they stripped his decx)ration8 and 
 his ribbons from his breast, he drew 
 himself up with a touching and grace- 
 ful air, and said to the officer, saluting : 
 
 "They have left me nothing but my 
 scars.-" 
 
 Such a man, however, tiger and but<!h- 
 er as he was, had need of the army and 
 the army had need of him. The Empe- 
 ror gave him back his rank, his orders, 
 his decorations, and gave him as well 
 his exile into Mexico. 
 
 MaximiJian refused him ; Ba.?;ain« 
 found work for his sword. Even 
 then that fatal quarrel was in its be'gin- 
 
44 
 
 SHEI.By's expedition to MEXICO 
 
 ning wliicli, later, was to leave a kiug- 
 dom det'euceless, and aa Empeior with- 
 out an arsenal or a siege-gun. Dupiu 
 was ordered to recruit a regiment of 
 Coutre Guerrillas, that is to say, a regi- 
 ment of Free Companions who were to 
 be supurbly armed and mounted, 
 and who were to follow the 
 Mexican guerrilhis thi'ough copse 
 and chapparal, through lowland 
 and lag'oon, sparing no man 
 upon wiiom hands were hiid, lighting all 
 men who had arms in their bands, and 
 who coidd he found or broug-ht to bay. 
 
 Murder with Dux)in was a tine art. 
 Mistress or maid he had none. That 
 cold, brown face, classic a little in its 
 outlines, and retaining yet a little of its 
 tierce Southern beauty, never grew soft 
 save when the battle was wild and the 
 wreck of the carnage ghastly and thick. 
 On the eve of confliet he had been 
 known to smile. When he laughed or 
 sang his men made the sign of the cross. 
 They knew death was ready at arm's 
 length, and that in an hour he would 
 put his sickle in amid the rows and reap 
 savagely a fresh harvest of simple yet 
 oftending Mexicans. Of all things left 
 to him from the sack of tliat Pekiu pal- 
 ace, one thing alone remained, typical 
 of the tiger thirst that old age, nor dis- 
 grace, nor wounds, nor rough 
 foreign service, nor anything: hu- 
 man, had power potent enough to 
 quench or assua.ge. Victor Hugo, 
 in his "Toilers of the Sea," has 
 woven it into the stoi-y after this fash- 
 ion, looking straight, perhaps, into the 
 eyes of the cruel soldier who, in all his 
 life, has never listened to prayer or 
 priest : 
 
 "A piece of silk stolen during the last 
 war from the palace of the Emperor of 
 China, rex)resented a shai'k eating a 
 crocodile, who is eating a serpent, who 
 is devouring an eagle, who is preying on 
 a swallow, who is in his turn eating a 
 caterpillar. All nature which is under 
 our observation is thus alternately de- 
 x*ouring and devoured. The prey prey 
 f^ft each other." 
 
 Dupia pi'f^jfed upon hh species. H© 
 
 rarely killed outright. He had a theory, 
 often put into practice, which was dia- 
 l)olical. 
 
 "Wlien you kill a Mexican," he would 
 say, "that is the end of him. When you 
 cut off an arm or a leg that throws him 
 uiKTi! the charity of his friends, and then 
 two or three must support him; Those 
 who make corn cannot make soldiers. 
 Tt is economy to amputate." 
 
 Hundreds tluis passed under the 
 hands of his surgeons. His maimed 
 and mutilated were in every toAvn from 
 Mier to MoHterey. On occasions when 
 the march had been pleasant and the 
 vrine generous, he would permit chloro- 
 form for the operation. Otherwise not. 
 It distressed him for a victim to die 
 beneath the knife. 
 
 "You bunglers endanger my theory," 
 he would cry out to his surgeons. 
 " Why can't you cut without killing ?" 
 
 The "Tiger of the Tropics" also had 
 his playful moods. He v/ould stretch 
 himself in the sun, overpower one with 
 gentleness and attention, say soft 
 things in whispers, quote poetry on oc- 
 casions, make of himself an elegant 
 host, serve the wine, laugh low and 
 lightsomely, wake up all of a sudden a 
 demon, and — MIL 
 
 One instance of this is yet a terrible 
 memory in Monterey, 
 
 An extremely wealthy and influential 
 Mexican, Don Vincente Ibarra, was at 
 hottie upon his hacienda one day about 
 noon as Dupin marched by. Perhaps 
 this man was a Liberal; certainly he 
 sympathized with Juarez and had done 
 much for the cause in the shape of re- 
 cruiting and resistance to the predatory 
 bands of Imperialists. As yet, however, 
 he had taken up no arms, and had paid 
 his proportion of the taxes levied upon 
 him by Jeanningros. 
 
 Dupin was at dinner when his scouts 
 brought Ibarra into camp. In front of 
 the tent was a lai'ge tree m full leaf, 
 whose spreading branches made an ex- 
 tensive and most agreeable shade. Un- 
 der this the Frencbman bad a camn- 
 stool placed for the comfort of the 
 Mexican , 
 
AX I'XWKITTEX LEAF OF TlIK WAR. 
 
 45 
 
 "Be seated," he said to Iniii iu a voice 
 no harslier than tlie wind anioiiLi- the 
 leaves overhead. "And, waiter, hiy 
 another phxte for my trieud." 
 
 The meal was a delishttul one. Dii- 
 pin talked as a subject who had a prince 
 for liis guest, and ari a lover who had a 
 woman for his listener. In the inter- 
 vals of the conversation he served the 
 wine. Ibarra was delighted. His sus- 
 picious kSpauisli heart relaxed the tension 
 of its grirn defence, aud he even stroked 
 the tiger's velvet skin, who closed 
 his sleepy eyes and purred under the 
 cnress. 
 
 When the wine was at its full cigars 
 were handed. Behind the white cloud 
 of the smoke, Dupin's face darkened. 
 Suddenly he spoke^ to Ibarra, pointing 
 up to the tree : 
 
 "What % fine shade it makes, .Seuor ? 
 Do such trees ever bear fruit f " 
 
 "Never, Colonel. AVhat a question." 
 
 "Never? All things !ire possible with 
 God, why not with a Frenchman f 
 
 " Because a Frenchman believes so 
 little in G-od, perhaps." 
 _ The face grew darker and darker. 
 
 "Are your affairs prosperous. Sen or!" 
 
 " As much so as these times will per- 
 mit." 
 
 "Very good. You have just five 
 minutes in which to make them better. 
 At the end of that time I will hang you 
 on that tree so sure as you are a Mesi- 
 can. What ho ! Capt, Jacan, turn out 
 the guard !" 
 
 Ibarra's deep olive face grew ghastly 
 white, and he fell upon his knees. No 
 prayers, no agonizing entreaty, no des- 
 pairing supplication wrungfrom a strong 
 man in his agony availed him aught. 
 At the appointed time his rigid frame 
 swung between heaven aod earth, an- 
 other victim to the mood of one who 
 never knew an hour of penitence or 
 mercy. The tree had borne fruit. 
 
 And so this manner of a man — this 
 white-haired Dupin— decorated, known 
 to two Continents as the "Tiger of the 
 Tropics," who kept four picked Chas- 
 seurs to stand guard about and over 
 him night and day, this old-young sol- 
 
 dier, with a voice like a school-girl and 
 a heart like a glocier, came to Monte- 
 rey and recruited a regiment of Coutre- 
 Guerrillas, a regiment that feared nei- 
 ther God, man, tlie Mexicans nor the 
 devil. 
 
 Under him as a Captain was Charles 
 Ney, the grandson of that other Ney 
 who cried out to D'Erlon at Waterloo, 
 "Come and see how a Marshal of France 
 dies on the field of battle." 
 
 In C'aptain Ney's company there were 
 two squadrons— a French squadron and 
 an American squadron, the last having 
 for its commander Capt. Frank Moore, 
 of Alabama. Under Moore were one 
 hundred splendid Confederate soldiers 
 who, refusing to surrender, had sought 
 exile, and had stranded upon that inev- 
 itable lee shore called necessity. Be- 
 tween the Scylla of short rations and 
 the Charybdis of empty pockets, the 
 only channel possible was the open sea. 
 So into sailed John C. Moore, Armistead, 
 Williams, and tlic I'est oi' iliiit American 
 squadron which was to become famous 
 from Matamoras to Matehuala. 
 
 This much b}^ the way of preface has 
 been deemed necessary in order that an 
 accurate narrative may be made of the 
 murder of Gen. M. M. Parsons, of Jef- 
 ferson City, his brother-in-law, Col. 
 Standish, of the same place, the Hon, 
 M. D, Conrow, of Caldwell county, and 
 three gallant young Irishmen, James 
 Moouey, Patrick Langdon, and Michael 
 Monarthy. Ruthlessly butchered iu a 
 foreign couiitry, they yet had avengers. 
 When the tale was told to Col. Dupin, 
 by John Moore, he listened as an Indian 
 in ambush might to the heavy tread of 
 some unwai-y and approaching trapper. 
 After the story had been finished be 
 asked abruptly: 
 
 "What would you Americans have." 
 
 "Permission," said Moore, "to gather 
 up what is left of our comrades and 
 bury what is left." 
 
 "And strike a^ good, fair blow in re- 
 turn?" 
 
 "Maybe so, Colonel." 
 
 "Then march at daylight with your 
 squadron. Let me hear wb^iD you re- 
 
46 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 turn that not one stone upon another of 
 the robber's rendezvous has been left. 
 
 Gen. M. M. Parsons had commanded 
 a division of Missouri infantry with 
 great credit to himself, and with great 
 honor to the State. He was a soldier of 
 re.uarkable y)ersoual beauty, of great 
 dash in battle, of unsurpassed horse- 
 manship, and of that graceful and nat- 
 ural suavity of manner which endeared 
 liim alike to his brother officers and to 
 the men over whom he was placed in 
 command. His brother-in-law, Col. 
 Standish, was his chief of statf, and a 
 frank, fearless young officer whom the 
 Missourians knew and admired. Capt. 
 Aaron H. Conxow had before the war 
 represented Caldwell county in the Leg- 
 islature, and had, during the war, been 
 elected to the Confederate Congress. 
 With these three men were three brave 
 and faithful young Irish soldiers, James 
 Mooney, Patrick Langdon and Michael 
 Monarthy — six in all who, for the crime 
 of being Americans, had to die. 
 
 Following in the rear of Shelby's ex- 
 I>edition in the vain hope of overtaking 
 it, they reached the neighborhood of 
 Pedras Negras too late to cross the Rio 
 Grrande there. A strong body of guer- 
 rillas had moved up into the town and 
 occupied it immediately after Shelby's 
 withdrawal. Crossing the river, how- 
 ever, lower down, they had entered 
 Mexico in safety, and had won their per- 
 ilous way to Monterey without serious 
 loss or molestation. Not content to go 
 further at that time, and wishing to re- 
 turn to Camargo for purposes of com- 
 munication with Texas, they availed 
 themselves of the protection of a tiain 
 of supply wagons sent by Jeauningros, 
 heavily guarded by Imperial Mexican 
 soldiers, to Matamoras. Jeauningros 
 gave them safe conduct as far as possi- 
 ble, and some good advice as well, which 
 advice simply warned them against 
 trusting anything whatever to Mexican 
 courage or Mexican faith. 
 
 The wagon train and its escort ad- 
 vanced well on their way to Matamoras 
 —well enough at least to be beyond the 
 range of French eucror should the worst 
 
 come to the worst. But on the evening 
 of the fourth day, in a narrow defile at 
 the crossing of an exceedingly rapid and 
 dangerous stream, the escort was furi- 
 ously assailed by a large body of Juaris- 
 tas, checked at once, and finally driven 
 back. Gen. Parsons and his party re- 
 treated with the rest until the night's 
 camp was reached, when a little council 
 of war was called by the Americans. 
 Courow and Standish were in favor of 
 abandoning the trip for the present, es- 
 pecially as the whole country was 
 aroused and in waiting for the train, 
 and more especially as tlie guerrillas, at- 
 tracted by the scent of plunder, 
 were swarming upon the roads and 
 in ambush by every pass and 
 beside the fords of every stream. Gen. 
 Parsons overruled them, and deter- 
 mined to make the venture as soon as 
 the moon arose, in the direction of Ca- 
 margo. 
 
 None took issue with him further. 
 Accustomed to exact obedience, much 
 of the old soldierly spirit was still in ex- 
 istence, and so they followed him blind- 
 ly and with alacrity. At daylight the 
 next morning the entire party was cap- 
 tured. Believing, however, that the 
 Americans were bit the advance of a 
 larger and more formidable party, tlie 
 Mexicans neither dismounted nor dis- 
 armed them,. While at breakfast, and 
 at the word of command from Gen. 
 Parsons, the whole six galloped off un- 
 der a fierce fire of musketry, unhurt, 
 bafiiing all pursuit, and gaining some 
 good hours' advantage over tbeix cap- 
 tors. It availed them nothing, however. 
 About noon of the second day they were 
 again captured, this time falling into 
 the hands of Figueroa, a roblx'r chief 
 as notorious among the >rexicans as Du- 
 pin was among the French. 
 
 Short shrift came afterwards. Col. 
 Standish was shot first. When told of 
 the fate intended for him, be bade good- 
 bye to his comrades, knelt a few mo- 
 ments in silent prayer, and then stood 
 up firmly, facing his mnrdercrs. At 
 the discharge of the musketry platoon, 
 he was dead before he touched the 
 
AX UNWRITTKX LEAF OF TIIK WAR. 
 
 47 
 
 ground. Two bullets pieced bis gen- 
 erous and dauntless beart. 
 
 Captain Aaron H. Conrow died next. 
 He expected no mercy, and be made no 
 plea for life. A request to be permitted 
 to write a few lines to bis wife was de- 
 nied bim, Figueroa^ savagely ordering 
 the execution to proceed. The tiring 
 party sbortened the distance between it 
 and tbeir victim, placing bim but tbree 
 feet away from tbe muzzles of tbeir 
 muskets. Like Standisb be refused to 
 bave bis eyes bandaged. Knowing but 
 few words of Spanisb, be called out in 
 bis brave, quick fasbion, and in bis own 
 language, " Fire !" and the death be got 
 was certain and instantaneous. He fell 
 witbin a few paces of bis comrade, 
 dead like bim before be toucbtd tbe 
 ground. 
 
 Tbe last moments of tbe tbree young 
 Irish soldiers bad now come. They bad 
 seen tbe stern killing of Standisb and 
 Conrow, and tbey neitber trembled nor 
 turned pale. It can do no good to ask 
 what thougbts were theirs, and if from 
 over the waves of tbe wide Atlantic 
 some visions came tbat were strangely 
 and sadl}^ out of place in front of tbe 
 cliapparal and tbe sandalled Mexicans. 
 Monartby asked for a piiest and receiv- 
 ed one. He was a kind-bearted, igno- 
 rant Indian, who would bave saved tiiem 
 if be could, but safe from tbe bloody 
 bands of Figueroa no foreigner bad ever 
 yet come. The tbree men confessed 
 and received sucb consolation as the liv- 
 ing could give to men as good as dead. 
 Then tbey joined bands and spoke some 
 earnest words together for tbe brief 
 space permitted them. Langdon, tbe 
 youngest, was only twenty-two. A 
 resident of Mobile when tbe war com- 
 menced, be bad volunteered in a bat- 
 tery, had been captured at Yicksbui'g, 
 and bad, latei-, joined Pindall's battalion 
 of sbarpsbooteis in Parsons' Di^^sion. 
 He bad a face like a young girl's, it w-as 
 so fair and fresh. All who knew bim 
 loved biin. In all tbe Confederate army 
 tbere was neither braver nor better sol- 
 dier. Mooney was a man of fifty-five, 
 with an iron frame and witb a gaunt 
 
 scarred, rugged face tbat was yet kindly 
 and attractive. He took Langdou in his 
 arms and kissed bim twice, once on each 
 cheek, sliook bands witb Monaitby, ami 
 opened his breast. The close, deadly 
 fire was received standing and witb eyes 
 wide open. Langdon died without a 
 struggle, Mooney groaned twice and 
 tried to speak. Death finished the sen- 
 tence ere it was commenced. Monartby 
 required tbe coup de grace. A soldier 
 went close to bim, rested the muzzle of 
 bis musket against bis bead and tired. 
 He was very quiet tben; the murder was 
 done; five horrible corpses lay in a ])ool 
 of blood; tbe shadows deepened; and the 
 cruel eyes of Figueroa roamed, as tbe 
 eyes of a tiger, from the ghastly faces of 
 tbe dead to the stern, set face of tbe liv- 
 ing. Greneral Parsons felt tbat for 
 him, too, tbe supreme moment bad come 
 at last. 
 
 Left in tbat terrible period alone, none 
 this side eternity will ever know what 
 be sultered and endured. Waiting ])a- 
 tiently for bis sentence, a respite was 
 granted. Some visions of ransom must 
 bave crossed Figueroa's mind. Clad in 
 tbe sbowy and attractive uniform of a 
 Confederate Major-Geueral, Jiaving the 
 golden stars of his rank upon bis collar, 
 magnificently mounted, and being with- 
 al a remarkably handsome and com- 
 manding-looking soldier bimseif , it was 
 for a time at least thought best to bold 
 bim a prisoner. His horse even was 
 given back to bim, and for some miles 
 f urtlier towards Matamoras be was per- 
 mitted to ride witii those who bad cap- 
 tured him. 1 he Captain of tbe guard 
 immediately in charge of bis person bad 
 also a very fine horse, whose speed be 
 was continually boasting of. Fortu- 
 nately this officer spoke English, thus 
 permitting Gen. Parsons to converse 
 with him. Much bantering was bad 
 concerning the speed of the two horses. 
 A race was at length proposed. 
 Tlie two men started olf at 
 a furious gallop, the American 
 steadily gaining upon tbe Mexican. 
 Finding bimseif in danger of being 
 distanced, tbe Captain drew up and or- 
 
istl1iLfiY\s Kxi'EblTiOls[ to MUMCti 
 
 dered his competitor in the race to halt. 
 Unheeding the command, Gen. Parsons 
 dashed on with the utmost speed, escap- 
 ing the shots from the revolver of the 
 Mexican, and eluding entirely Figueroa 
 and his command. Although in a coun- 
 try tilled with treacherous and blood- 
 thirsty savages, and ignorant of the 
 loads and the language, Gren. Parsons 
 might have reduced the chances against 
 him in the proportion of ten to one, had 
 he concealed himself in some neighbor- 
 ing chapparal and waited until the 
 night fell. He did not do this, but con- 
 tinued his flight rapidl}" down the broad 
 highway wliich ran directly from Mon- 
 terey to Matamoras. There could be 
 but one result. A large scouting parry 
 of Figueroa's forces, returning to the 
 headquarters of their chief, met him be- 
 fore he had ridden ten miles, again took 
 bim 7)r]soner, and again delivered him 
 into the hands of the ferocious bandit. 
 Death followed almost instantly. 
 None who witnessed the deed have 
 ever told how he died, but three days 
 afterward Lis body was found stripped 
 by the wayside, literally shot to pieces. 
 Some Mexicans then buried it, marking 
 the unhallowed spot w'ith a cross. Af- 
 terward Figueroa, dressed in the full 
 uDiform of General Parsons, was in oc- 
 cupation of Caniargo. while the Sijnie 
 Colonel Johnson, W'ho had followed 
 Shelby southwardly from San 
 Antonio, held the opposite shore 
 of the Rio Grande on tlie American 
 side. Figueroa, gloating over the sav- 
 ageness of the deed, and imagining, in 
 his stolid Indian cunning, that the Fed- 
 eral officers would pay handsomely for 
 the spoils of the murdered Confederate, 
 proiiered to deliver to him Gen Parsons' 
 coat, pistols and private papers for a 
 certain specified sum, detailing, at the 
 same time, with revolting accui'acy, the 
 merciless particulars of the butchery. 
 Horrified at the cool rapacity of the rob- 
 ber, and thinking only of Gen. Parsons 
 as an American and a brotlier,Col.John- 
 son tried for wrecks to entice Figueroa 
 across the river, intending to do a righ- 
 teous vengeance ujion hira. Too Avily 
 
 and too cowardly to be caught, he 
 moved back suddenly into the interior, 
 sending a message afterwards to Col. 
 Johnson full of taunting and defiance. 
 
 Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man^ 
 shall his ow u blood be shed. Dupiu's 
 avengers were on the track, iml^ued 
 with Dupin'sspirit,and having over them 
 the stern memory of Dupin's laconic or- 
 ders. Leave not one stone upon anoth- 
 er. And why should there be habita- 
 tions when the inhabitants w^ere sc.attei- 
 ed or killed. 
 
 Las Flores was a flower-town, beauti- 
 ful in name, and beautiful in the blue of 
 the skies which bent over it; in the blue 
 of the mountains which caught the 
 morning and Avove for it a gossamer 
 robe of amethyst and pearl; in the soug 
 and flovv of running water, where wo- 
 men sat and sang, and combed their 
 dusky hair; and in the olden, immemmo- 
 rial groves, filled with birds that had 
 gold for plumage, and sweet seed and 
 sunshine for ma ring and wooing songs. 
 Hither would come Figueroa in the 
 lull of the long marches, and in the re- 
 laxation of the nights of ambush, and 
 the days of watching and starving. 
 Booty and beauty, and singing maidens 
 all w^ere there. There red gold would 
 buy right royal kisses, and there feast- 
 ing and minstrelsy told of the pillage 
 done, and tlie rapine and slaughter be- 
 yond the sweep of the mountains that 
 cut the sky line. 
 
 God help all of them who tarried till 
 the American squadron charged into the 
 town, one hundred rank and file, Frank 
 Moore leading — all who had beartl upo n 
 their faces or guns within their hands. 
 A trusty guide had made the morn ing a 
 surprise. It was not yet daylight. Some 
 white mist, like a corpse abandoning a 
 bier, Avas creeping up from the low- 
 lands. The music and the lights had 
 died out in the streets. The east, not 
 yet awakened, had on its face the placid 
 pallor of slee]). What birds flew Avere 
 weary of wing and voiceless in t!ie so- 
 ber hush of dreamless nature. 
 
 Leav^e not one stone upon anotlier. And 
 the fjices of the Americans were set as a 
 
AM UmVRiTTEN T.EAF OF TTIE WAR. 
 
 49 
 
 flint and tlie massacre began. Never 
 were six men so terribly avenged. It 
 need not be told what flames were there, 
 whatbarsli and gutteral oaths, what 
 tawny faces blanched and grew white, 
 what cries, and vollies, and shrieks, and 
 deaths tliat made no moan arose on the 
 morning, and scared the mist from the 
 water, the paradise birds from their 
 bowers amid the limes and the orange 
 trees. It was over at last. Call the roll 
 and gather up the corpses. Fifteen 
 Americans dead, eleven wounded, and 
 so many Mexicans that you could not 
 count them. Las Flores, the City of the 
 Flowers, had become to be Las Cruces. 
 the City of the Crosses. 
 
 When the tale was told to Dupin, he 
 rubbed his brown bare hands and lent 
 his arm on his subaltern's shoulder. 
 
 " Tell me about it again," he ordered. 
 
 The tale was told. 
 
 " Oh ! brave Americans !" he shouted. 
 "Americans after my own heart. You 
 shall be saluted with sloping standards 
 and uncovered heads." 
 
 The bugles rang out "to horse," the 
 regiment got under arms, the American 
 squadron passed in review along the 
 ranks, the flags were lowered and in- 
 clined, officers and men uncovered as 
 the files marched down the lines, there 
 were greetings and rejoicings, and from 
 the already lengthened life of the white- 
 haired commander five good years of 
 toil and exposure had been taken. For 
 a week thereafter he was seen to smile 
 and to be glad. After that the old, 
 wild work commenced again. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 In Monterey, at the time of Shelby's 
 araval, there Avasi one man who had fig- 
 ured somewhat extensively in a role new 
 to most Americans. This man was the 
 Hon. William M. Gwin, ex-United 
 States Senator and ex-Governor of Cal- 
 ifornia. He had been to France and 
 just returned. Accomplished in all of the 
 social graces ; an aristocrat born and a 
 bit of an Imperialist as well; full of wise 
 words and sage reflections ; graceful in 
 
 7A 
 
 his conversation and charming over his 
 wine ; having the political history of his 
 country at heart as a young Catholic 
 does his catechism ; fond of the pomp 
 and the paraphernalia of royalty; noth- 
 ing of a soldier but much of a diplomat- 
 ist; a stranger to reverence and a <'0S- 
 mopolitau in religion, he was a right 
 proper man to hold court in Sonora, the 
 Mexican province whose affairs i^ie was 
 administer upon as a Duke. Napoleon 
 had granted him letters patent for this, 
 and for this he had ennobled him. It is 
 nowhere recorded that he took posses- 
 sion of his province. Granted an audi- 
 ence by Maximilian he laid his plans be- 
 fore him and asked for a prompt install- 
 ment into the administration of the 
 dukedom. It was refused peremptorily. 
 At the mercy of Bazaine, and having no 
 soldiers wort^iy the name other than 
 Fiench soldiers, the Mexican Emperor 
 had weighty reasons besides private 
 ones for such refusal. It was not time 
 for the coquettries of Empire before that 
 Empire had an army, a bank account, 
 and a clean bill of health. Gwin be- 
 came indignant, Bazaine became amus- 
 ed, and Maximilian became disgusted. 
 In the end the Duke left the country 
 and the guerillas seized upon the duke- 
 dom. When Shelby reached Monterey, 
 ex-Governor Gwin was outward bound 
 for Matamoras, reaching the United 
 States later only to be imprisoned in 
 Fort Jackson below New Orleans for 
 several long and weary months. The 
 royal sufferer had most excellent com- 
 pany — although Democratic aod there- 
 fore unsympathetic. General John B. 
 Clark, returning about the same time, 
 was pounced upon and duly iucarcera 
 ted. Gwin attempted to convert him 
 to imperalism, but it ended by Clark 
 bringing Gwin back to Democracy. 
 And a noble Missourian was "Old" Gen- 
 eral Clark, as the soldiers loved to call 
 him. Lame from a wound received 
 while leading his brigade gallantly into 
 action at Wilson's Creek, penniless in a 
 land for whose sake he had given up 
 gladly a magnificent fortune, pro- 
 scribed of the government, a pris- 
 
50 
 
 SHELBY*S EXPEDITION TO MEXtCO ', 
 
 oner without a country, an exile 
 who was not permitted to 
 return in peace, dogmatic and defiant to 
 the last, he went into Fort Jackson a 
 rebel, remained a rebel there, came 
 away a rebel, and a rebel he will con- 
 tinue to be as long: as life permits him 
 to use the rough Anglo Saxon oaths 
 Avhich ,go to make up his rebel vocabu- 
 lary. On the march into Mexico he had 
 renewed his youth. In the night watches 
 he told tales of his boyhood, and by the 
 camp fires he replenished anew the fires 
 of his memory. Hence all the anec- 
 dotes that amused — all the reminiscences 
 wliicli deliglited. At the crossing of the 
 Salinas river he fell in beside Gen. Shel- 
 by, a musket in his hand, and the old 
 ardor of battle upon his stern and wea- 
 ther-beaten face. 
 
 "Where would you go'?" asked Shelby. 
 
 "As tar as you go, my young man." 
 
 "Not this day, my old friend, if I can 
 help it. There are younger and less val- 
 uable men wlio shall take this risk alone. 
 Get out of the ranks, General. The 
 column can not advance unless you do." 
 
 Forced against his will to retire, he 
 was mad for a week, and only recovered 
 his amiability after being permitted to 
 engage in tlie night encounter at the 
 Pass of the Palms. 
 
 Before marching northward from Mon- 
 terey, Shelby sought one last interview 
 with Gen. Jeanningros. It was courte- 
 ously accorded. Gen. Preston, who had 
 gone forward from Texas to open nego- 
 tiations with Maximilian, and who had 
 reached Mexico City in safety, had not 
 yet reported the condition of his sur- 
 soundiugs. It was Shelby's desire to 
 take military service in the Empire since 
 his men had refused to become the fol- 
 lowers of Juarez at Piedras Negras. 
 Knowing that a corps of fifty thousand 
 Americans could be recruited in a few 
 months after a base of operations had 
 once been established, he sought the ad- 
 vice of Gen. Jeanningros to this end, 
 meaning to deal franklj- with him, and 
 to discuss fully his plans and purposes. 
 
 Jeanningros had grown gray in the 
 service. He acknowledged but one 
 
 standard of perfection— success. Never 
 mind the means, so only the end was 
 glory and France. The camps had made 
 him cruel; the barracks had given to 
 this cruelty a kind of fascinating rhet- 
 oric. Sometimes he dealt in parables. 
 One of these told more of the paymas- 
 ter than the Zouave, more of Minister 
 Rouher than Marshal McMahon. He 
 would say : 
 
 "Napoleon and Maximilian have form- 
 ed a partnership. To get it well agoing 
 much money has been spent. Some 
 bargains have been bad, and some ves- 
 sels have been lost. There is a crisis at 
 hand. More capital is needed to save 
 what has already been invested, and for 
 one, rather than lose the millions swal- 
 lowed up yesterday, I would put in as 
 many more millions to-day. It is econ- 
 omy to hold on." 
 Shelby went straight at his work : 
 "I do not know what you think of 
 things here. General, nor of the outcome 
 the future has in store for the Empire, 
 but one thing is certain, I shall tell you 
 the plain truth. The Federal Govern- 
 ment has no love for your French occu- 
 pation of Mexico. If diplomacy can't 
 get you out, infantry divisions will. I 
 left a large army concentrating upon the 
 Rio Grande, and all the faces of all the 
 men were looking straight forward into 
 Mexico. Will Fiance fight '^ For oi^e, I 
 hope so ; but it seems to me that if your 
 Emperor had meant to be serious in this 
 thing, his plan should have been to have 
 formed an alliance long ago, olt'ensive 
 and defensive, with Jefferson Davis. 
 This, in the event of success, would 
 have guaranteed you the whole country, 
 and obliged you as well to have opened 
 the ports of Charleston, Savannah and 
 New Orleans. Better battles could liave 
 been fought on the Potomac than on the 
 Rio Grande ; surer results would have 
 followed from a French landing at Mo- 
 bile than at Tampico or Vera Cruz. 
 You have waited too long. Flushed 
 with a triumphant termination of the 
 war, American diplomacy now means 
 the Monroe Doctrine, pure aid simple 
 with a little of Yankee brutality and 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 51 
 
 braggadocio thrown in. Give me a port 
 as a basis of operations, and I can or- 
 ganize an American force capable of 
 keeping Maximilian upon bis throne. If 
 left discretionary . witli me, that port 
 shall be either Gnaytnas or Mazatlan. 
 The Califovnians love adventure, and 
 many leaders among them have already 
 sent messengers to me with overtures. 
 My agent at the Capital has not yet re- 
 ])orted, and, consequently, I am unin- 
 formed as to the wishes of the Em- 
 peror; but one tiling is certain, the 
 French cannot remain, and be cannot 
 rule over Mexicans witli Mexicans. 
 Witliout foreign aid he is lost. You 
 Ivuow Bazaine better than I do, and so 
 what would Bazaine say to all this f 
 
 Jeanningros heard him patiently to the 
 end, answering Shelby as frankly as he 
 had been addressed : 
 
 "There will be no war between France 
 and the Uoited States, and of this you 
 may rest assured. I cannot answer for 
 Marshal Bazaine, nor for his wishes and 
 intentions. There is scant love, how- 
 ever, between his excellency and Maxi- 
 milian, because one is a scholar and the 
 other is a soldier; but I do not think 
 the Marshal would be averse to the em- 
 ployment of American soldiers in the 
 service of the empire. You have my 
 full permission to march to the Pacific, 
 and to take such other steps as will 
 seem best to you in the matter of which 
 you have just spoken. The day is not 
 far distant when every French soldier 
 in Mexico will be withdrawn, although 
 this would not necessarily destroy the 
 Empire. Who will take their places";? 
 Mexicans. Bah! beggars ruling oA^er 
 beggars, cut-throats lying in wait for 
 cut-throats, traitors on the inside mak- 
 ing signs for traitors on the outside to 
 come in. Not thus are governments up- 
 held and administered. Healthy blood 
 must be poured through every efiete and 
 corrupted vein of this effete and corrup- 
 ted nation ere the Austrian can sleep a 
 good man's sleep in his palace of Che- 
 pultepec." 
 
 The interview ended, and Shelby 
 marched northward to Saltillo. The 
 
 first camp beyond was upon the battle 
 field of Buena Vista. It was sunset 
 when the column reached the memora- 
 ble and historic field. A gentle rain in 
 the morning had washed the grass until 
 it shone— had washed the trees until the 
 leaves glistened and smelt of perfume. 
 After the bivouac was made, silence and 
 twilight, as twin ghosts, crept up the 
 glade togetlu r. Nest spoke unto neijt 
 in the gloaming, and bade good-night 
 as the moon arose. It was an harvest 
 moon, white, and splendid, and large as 
 a tent-leaved palm. Away over to the 
 left a mountain arose, where the mist 
 gathered and hung dependent as the 
 locks of a giant. The left of the Ameri- 
 can army had rested there. In its shad- 
 ows had McKee fallen, and there had 
 Hardin died, and there had the lance's 
 point found Yell's dauntless heart, and 
 there had the young Clay yielded up 
 his precious life in its stainless 
 and its spotless prime. The great rav- 
 ine still cut the level plain asunder. 
 Rank mesquite grew all along the crest 
 of the deadly hill where the Mississip- 
 pians formed, and where, black-lipped 
 and waiting, Bragg's battery crouched 
 in ambush at its feet. Shining as a sat- 
 in band, the broad highway lay white 
 under the moonlight towards Saltillo— 
 the highway to gain which Santa Anna 
 dashed his desperate army in vain — the 
 highway which held the rear, and the 
 life and the fame of the Northern hand- 
 ful. 
 
 Gen. Hindman, a soldier in the regi- 
 ment of Col. Jefferson Davis, explored 
 the field under the moon and the stars, 
 having at his back a regiment of young- 
 er Americans who, although the actors 
 in a direr and more dreadful war, yet 
 clung on to their earliest superstitions 
 and their spring-time faith in ti'e glory 
 and the carnage of Buena Vista. He 
 made the camp a long to be remembered 
 one. Here a squadron charged; there a 
 Lancer regiment, gaily caparisoned in 
 scarlet and gold, crept onward and on- 
 ward until the battery's dun smoke 
 broke as a wave over pennant and 
 plume; here the grim Northern lines 
 
52 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 reeled and rallied; there the sandalled 
 Mexicans, rent into fragments, swarmed 
 into the jaws of the ravine, crouching 
 low as the- hot tempest of grape and 
 canister rushetl over and bej^ond them; 
 yonder, where the rank grass is greenest 
 and freshest, the uncoffined dead were 
 buried; and everywhere, upon the right 
 and the left, the little mounds arose, 
 gniiirding for ever more the sacred dust 
 of the stranger slain. 
 
 The midnight came, and the harvest 
 moon, as a spectral boat, was floating 
 away to the west in a tide of silver and 
 gold. The battle-field lay under the 
 great, calm face of the sky— a sepulchre. 
 Looking out from his bivouac who 
 knows what visions came to the musing 
 soldier, as grave after grave gave up its 
 dead, and as spirit after spirit put on 
 its uniform and its martial array. Pale 
 squadrons galloped again through the 
 gloom of the powder-pall; again the 
 deep roar of the artillery lent its mighty 
 voice to swell the thunder of the gather- 
 ing battle; again the rival flags rose and 
 fell in the "hot, lit foreground of the 
 fight ;" again the Lancers charged ; 
 piercing, and sweet, and wildly shrill, 
 the bugles again called out for victory; 
 and again from out the jaws of the cav- 
 ernous ravine a tawny tide emerged, 
 clutching fiercely at the priceless road, 
 and falling there in giant windrows as 
 the Slimmer hay when the scythe of the 
 reai);:a',s tr.kes the gra,ss that is rankest. 
 
 The moon went down. The mirage 
 disappeared, and only the silent and de- 
 serted battle-field lay out under the 
 stars, its low trees wa^^ng in the night 
 wind, and its droning katydids sighing 
 in the grasses aboAc de gi-^ives. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 From Parras tliere was a broad, na- 
 tional highway running directly to So- 
 nora, and so Shelby marched from Sal- 
 tillo to Parras, intending to rest there a 
 few days and then continue on to the 
 Pacific, keeping steadily in view the ad- 
 vice and the information given him by 
 Gen, Jeanningros. 
 
 His entrance into the city was stormy, 
 and his reception there had neither sun- 
 light nor temperate air about it. Indeed 
 none of the Parras vvindsblew him good. 
 When \\ ithin two days' march of Parras 
 a sudden rain storm came out of the sky, 
 literally inundating the ground of the 
 bivouac. The watch fires were all put 
 out. Sleep was banished, and in the 
 noisy jubilation of the wind a guerrilla 
 band stole down upon the camp. Dick 
 Collins, James Kirtley, George Winship 
 and James Meadow were on picquet du- 
 ty at the mouth of a canyon on the 
 north. They were peerless soldiers and 
 they knew how to keep their powder 
 dry. The unseen moon had gone dowu, 
 and the rain and the wind warred with 
 each other. Some black objects rose up 
 between the eyes of Winship on the out- 
 ermost post, and the murky clouds, yet 
 a little light, above the darker jaws of 
 the canyon. Weather proofs Winship 
 spoke to Collins : 
 
 •" There is game afoot. No peace- 
 ful thing travels on such a devil's night 
 as this." 
 
 The four men gathered closer 
 together, watching. Of a sudden a 
 tawny .and straggling kind of 
 flame leaped out ftoni the can- 
 3^011 and showed the faces of the Ameri- 
 cans, one to another. They were all 
 resolute and determined. They told 
 how the dauntless four meant to stand 
 there, and fight tliere, and die there, if 
 needs be, until the sleeping camp could 
 get well upon its feet. Sheltered a little 
 by the darkness, and more by the rocks 
 before and around them, they held des- 
 perately on, four men fighting two hun- 
 dred. The strange combat waxed hotter 
 and closer. Under the murky night the 
 guerrillas crawled ever- nearer and near- 
 er. Standing closely together the Amer- 
 icans fired at the flMshes of the Mexican 
 muskets. As yet they had not resorted 
 to their revolvers. Trained to perfect- 
 ion in the use of Sharp's carbines, their 
 guns seemed alwii.v.s hKiditl. f'oilins 
 spoke first in his quaint, characteristic 
 way : 
 
 " Boys, it's hot despite the rain." 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 53 
 
 "It will be hotter," answered Wm- 
 sliip. 
 
 Then tbe wild work commenced again. 
 Tills time they could not load their car- 
 l)iues. The rcAHilvers had taken part in 
 the melee. Kirtley was hit badly in the 
 left arm, Collins was bleeding from an 
 ngly wound in the right shoulder, Mead- 
 ow and \V in ship each were struck slight- 
 ly, and the guerrillas were ready for the 
 death grapple. Neither thought of giv- 
 ing one inch of ground. The wind blew 
 furiously and the rain poured down. At 
 the moment when the final rush had 
 come, the piercing notes of Shelby's bu- 
 gle were heard, and clearer and nearer 
 and deadlier the great shout of an on- 
 coming host, leaping swiftly forward 
 to the rescue. Past the four men on 
 guard, Shelby leading, the tide poured 
 into the pass. What happened there the 
 daylight revealed. It was sure enough 
 and ghastly enough to satisfy ail, and 
 better for some if the sunlight had 
 never uncovered to kindred eyes the 
 rigid corpses lying stark and stift where 
 they had fallen. 
 
 All at once a furious fire of musketry 
 was heard in the rear, and in amid the 
 tethered horses. Again the bugle's notes 
 were heard, and again Shelby's rallying 
 voice rang out : 
 
 ''Countermach for your lives. Make 
 haste ! — make haste ! — the very clouds 
 are raining Mexicans to-night." 
 
 It was a quarter of a mile to the camp. 
 The swiftest men got there first. Sure 
 enough the attack had been a most for- 
 midable one. Slayback and Cundiff' 
 held the post in the rear and were fight- 
 ing desperately. On foot, in the dark- 
 ness, and attacked by four hundred 
 guerrillas well acciuainted with the whole 
 country, they had yet neither been sur- 
 prised nor diiveu back. Woe unto tie 
 horses if they had, and horses were as 
 precious gold. Attracted only by the 
 firing, and waiting for no orders, there 
 had rushed to the rearward p >stMcDou- 
 gall, Fell, Dorsey, Macey, Ras Wood, 
 Charley Jones, Vines, Armistead and 
 Elliott. Some aroused from [their blan- 
 kets, were hatless and bootless. Ingle- 
 
 hardt snatched a lighted torch from a 
 sheltered fire and attempted to light the 
 yfaj. The rain put it out. Henry 
 Chiles, having his family to pro- 
 tect, knew, however, by instinct 
 that the rear was in danger, and 
 pressed forward with Jim Wood and 
 the Berry brothers. Langhorne, from 
 the left, bore down with John and Mar- 
 tin Kritzer, where he had been all night 
 with the herd, keeping vigilant watch. 
 In the impenetrable darkness the men 
 mistook each other. Moreland fired 
 upon George Hall and shot away the 
 collar of his overcoat. Hall recognized 
 his voice and made himself known to 
 him. Jake Connor, with the full swell 
 and compass of his magnificent voice, 
 struck up, "Tramp, tramp, the boys are 
 marching," until, guided by the music 
 of the song, the detached parties came 
 together in the gloom and pressed on 
 rapidly to the rear. 
 
 It was time. Slayback and Cundiff, 
 having only a detachment of twelve 
 men, nine of whom were killed or woun- 
 ded, were half surrounded. They, too, 
 had refused to fall back. In the rain — 
 m the darkness— having no authorized 
 commander — fired on from three sides — 
 ignorant of the number and the posi- 
 tions of their assailants, they yet charg- 
 ed furiously in a l>ody and drove every- 
 thing before them. When Shelby ar- 
 rived with reinforcements tlie combat 
 was over. It had been the most persist- 
 ent and bloody of the Expedition. Cal- 
 culating their chances well, the guerril- 
 las had attacked simultaneously from 
 the front and rear, and fought with a 
 tenacity unknown before in their his- 
 tory. The horses were the prize, and 
 right furiousl'' did they struggle for 
 them. Close, reckless fighting ah)ne 
 saved the camp and scattered the des- 
 perate robbers in every direction among 
 the mountains. 
 
 Col. Depreuil, with the Fifty-second 
 of the French line, held Parj-as, an ex- 
 treme outpost on the north— the key, in 
 fact, of the position towards Chihuahua 
 and Sonora. Unlike Jeanniugros in 
 many things, he was yet a fine soldier 
 
54 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 a most overbearing and tyrannical 
 nian. Grathered together at Parras also, 
 and waiting permission to march to 
 Sonora, was Col. Terry, one of the 
 famous principals in the Broderick duel, 
 and a detachment of Texas, numbering, 
 probably, twenty-five. Terry's own 
 account of this memorable duel was all 
 the more interesting because given by 
 one who, of all others, tnew best the 
 causes and the surroundings which ren- 
 dered it necessary. In substance the 
 following contains the main points of 
 the narrative : 
 
 "The political contest preceding the 
 duel was exceptionally and bitterly per- 
 sonal. Broderick recognized the code 
 fully, and had once before fouglit and 
 wounded liis man. He was cool, brave, 
 dangerous and very determined. His 
 influence over his ovv'n immediate fol- 
 lowers and friends was more marked 
 and emphatic than that exercised by 
 any other man! have ever known. He 
 excelled in organization and attack, and 
 possessed luany of the most exalted 
 qualities of a successful commander. 
 As an orator he was i-ugged.yet insi^ired, 
 reminding me somewhat of my own pic- 
 turings of Mirabeau, without the gigan- 
 tic persistence and intellect of Mirabeau. 
 I do not desire to enter into even the 
 details which led to the unfortunate 
 meeting, for these have been given again 
 and again in as many false and unnat- 
 ural ways as possible. After the teims 
 ])ad all been fully discussed and agreed 
 upon, and the time and place of the 
 combat settled, I said confidentially to 
 a friend of mine that I did not intend 
 to kill Broderick. This friend seemed 
 greatly surprised, and asked me, after a 
 few moments' reflection, what I really 
 intended to do in the matter^ My an- 
 swer was that I simply desired to save 
 my own life, and that I should only dis- 
 able him. 'It is a dangerous game you 
 arc playing,' he replied, 'and one likely 
 to bring you trouble. Broderick is no 
 trifling antagonist. He shoots to kill 
 every time.' When I arrived on the 
 field I had not changed my mind, but 
 when I looked into his eyes, I saw mur- 
 
 der there as plainly as murder was ever 
 depicted, and then I hnew that one of 
 us had to die. I put my life fairly 
 against his own. His bearing was mag- 
 nificent, and his nerve superbly cool. 
 It has been asserted that I remarked to 
 my second, while he was measuring the 
 ground, that he must take short steps. 
 This is untrue,for the ground was meas- 
 ured twice, once by my own second, and 
 once by the second of Broderick. Tliey 
 both agreed perfectly. The dis- 
 tance was ten paces, and 
 in size neither had the advantage. I 
 felt confident of killing him, however, 
 but if required to give a reason for this 
 belief I could not give either a sensible 
 or an intelligent reason. You know the 
 result. He fell at the first fire, shot 
 through the neck and mortally wounded. 
 I did not approach him afterward, nor 
 were any attempts made at reconcilia- 
 tion. At the hands of his friends I re- 
 ceived about as large a share of person- 
 al abuse as usually falls to the lot of a 
 man ; at the hands of my friends I had 
 no reason to cornplain of their generous 
 support and confidence. When the war 
 commenced I left California as a volun- 
 teer in the Confederate army, and am 
 here to-day, like the rest of you, a pen- 
 niless and an adventurous man. What 
 a strange thing is destiny ? I some- 
 times think we can neither mar nor 
 make our fortunes, but have to live the 
 life that is ordained for us. The future 
 nobody knows. Perhaps it is best to 
 take it as we find it, and bow gracefully 
 when we come face to face with the in- 
 evitable." 
 
 Colonel Terry had felt his own sor- 
 rows, too, in the desperate struggle. 
 One brother had been shot down by his 
 side in Kentucky ; a dearly loved child 
 had just been buried in a foreign land ; 
 penniless and an exile himself, he had 
 neither Iiotue, property, a country, nor a 
 cause. All that were left to him Avas his 
 lionor and his soars. 
 
 Before Shelby arrived in Paris, Col. 
 Depreiiil had received an order from 
 Marshal Bazaiue intended entirely for 
 the Americans. It was very concise and 
 
AM iJKWRlTTKiN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 55 
 
 very much to tlie point. It commenced 
 bj^ cleclariDg that Shelby's advance was 
 hut the commencement of an irruption 
 of Americans— Yankees, Bazaiue called 
 them— who intended to overrun Mexico, 
 and to make war alike upon the French 
 and upon Maximilian. Their march to 
 Sonora, therefore, was to be arrested, 
 and if tliey refused to return to their 
 own country, they were to be ordered to 
 report to bim in the Citv of Mexico. No 
 exceptions were to be permitted, and in 
 any event, Sonora was to be held as for- 
 bidden territory. 
 
 Used to so many disappointments, and 
 so constantly misunderstood and misin- 
 terpreted, Shelby felt the last blow less, 
 perliaps, than some heavier ones among 
 the first of a long series. He called up- 
 on Colonel Depreuil, however, for an 
 official confirmation. 
 
 This interview, like the night attack, 
 was a stormy one. The Frenchman was 
 drinking and abusive. Uninvited to a 
 seat, Shelby took the nearest one at 
 hand. Upon his entrance into the offi- 
 cer's reception room, he had removed 
 his hat. This was an act of politeness 
 as natural as it was mechanical. After- 
 ward it came near unto bloodshed. 
 
 " I have called. Colonel," Shelby be- 
 gan, "'for permission to continue my 
 march to Sonora." 
 
 " Such permission is impossible. You 
 will turn aside to Mexico." 
 
 " May I ask the reason of this sudden 
 resolution ? General Jeanningros had no 
 information to this effect when I left 
 him the other day in Monterey." 
 
 At the mention of Jeanningros' name, 
 Depreuil became furious in a moment. 
 It may have been that the subordinate 
 was wanting in respect for his superior, 
 or it may have been that he imagined, 
 in his drunken way, that Shelby sought 
 to threaten him with higher authority. 
 At any rate he roared out : 
 
 '■ What do I care for your information. 
 Let the devil fly away with you and 
 your information. It is the same old 
 game you Americans are forever trying 
 to play — robbing to-day, and killing to- 
 morrow — and plundering, plundering, 
 
 plundering all the time. Yon shall not 
 go to Sonora, and you shall not stay 
 here ; but whatever you do you shall 
 obey." 
 
 Shelby's face darkened. He arose as 
 he spoke, put his hat on, and walked 
 some paces toward the speaker. His 
 voice was so cold and harsli when he 
 answered him, that it sounded strange 
 and unnatuial : 
 
 "I am mistaken it seems. I imagined 
 that when an American soldier called 
 upon a French soldier, he was at least 
 visiting a gentleman. One can not al- 
 ways keep his hands clean, and I wash 
 mine of you because you are a slanderer 
 and a coward." 
 
 Depreuil laid his hand upon hissw^ord; 
 Slielby unbuttoned the flap of his re- 
 volver scabbard. A rencontre was im- 
 minent. Those of Shelby's men who 
 were with him massed themselves in 
 one corner, silent and threatening. A 
 guard of soldiers in an adjoining room 
 fell into line. The hush of expectancy 
 that came over all was ominous. A 
 spark would have exploded a magazine. 
 Nothing could have surpassed the 
 scornful, insulting gesture of Depreuil 
 as, pointing to Shelby's hat, he ordered 
 fiercely : 
 "Remove that." 
 
 ''Only to beauty and to God," was the 
 stern, calm reply ; "to a coward, never." 
 It seemed for a moment afterwards 
 that Depreuil would strike him. He 
 looked first at his own guard, then 
 grasped the hilt of his sword, and finally 
 with a tierce oath, he broke out : 
 
 "Retire— retire instantly — lest I out- 
 rage all hospitality and dishonor you in 
 my own house. You shall pay for this — 
 you shall apologize for this." 
 
 Depreuil was no coward. Perha!)s 
 there was no braver and more impulsive 
 man in the whole French army. The 
 sequel proved this. 
 
 Shelby went calmly from his presence. 
 He talked about various things, but 
 never about the difficulty until he found 
 Governor Reynolds, 
 
56 
 
 SiitLlJY^s EXiPKfaiTioN 'r5 Mkkico 
 
 "Come apart witli me a I'ew moments, 
 Governor," he said. 
 
 Eeynolds was alone with him for an 
 hour. When he came out he went 
 straight to the quarters of Col. Depreuil. 
 It did not take long thereafter to ar- 
 range the terms of a meeting. 
 Governor Reynolds was both 
 a diplomatist and a soldier, and so at 
 daylight the next morning they were to 
 tight with pistols at ten paces. In this 
 the Frenchman was chivalrous, notwith- 
 standing his overbearing and insulting 
 conduct at the interview. Shelby's 
 right hand and arm had been disabled 
 by a severe wound, and this Depreuil 
 had noticed. Indeed, while he was an 
 expert with the sword, Shelby's wrist 
 was so stiff that to handle a sword at 
 all would have been impossible. De- 
 preuil, therafore, chose the pistol, agreed 
 to the distance, talked some brief mo- 
 ments pleasantly with Gov. Reynolds, 
 and went to bed. Shelby, on his part, 
 had even fewer preparations to make 
 than Depreuil. Face to face with death 
 for four long years, he had seen him in 
 so many shapes, and in so many places 
 that this last aspect was one of his least 
 nncertain and terrifying. 
 
 The due!, however, never occurred. 
 That night, about ten o'clock, a tremen- 
 dous clattering of sabres and galloping 
 of horses were heard, and some who 
 went out to ascertain the cause, return- 
 ed with the information that Gen. Jean- 
 ningros, on an inspecting tour of the en- 
 tire northern line of outposts, had ar- 
 rived in Parras with four squadrons of 
 the Chasseurs d'Afrique. It was not 
 long before all the details of the inter- 
 view between Desreuil and Shelby were 
 related to him. His quick French in- 
 stinct divined in a mohient that other 
 alternative waiting for the daylight, and 
 in an insaut Depreuil was iu arrest, the 
 violation of which would have cost him 
 his life. Nor did it end with arrest sim- 
 ply. After fully investig-atiug the cir- 
 cumstances connected with the whole 
 iftair, Jeanuingros required Depreuil to 
 make a free and frank apology, which 
 he did most cordially and sincerely, re- 
 
 gretting as much as a sober man could 
 the disagreeable and overbearing 
 things did when he was drunk. 
 
 How strange a thing is destiny. About 
 one year after this Parras difficulty, De- 
 preuil was keeping isolated guard above 
 Queretero, threatened by heavj^ bodies 
 of advancing Juaristas, and in imminent 
 peril of destruction. Shelby, no longer 
 a soldier now but a trader, knew his per- 
 il and knew the value of afriendly warn- 
 ing given while it vv^as yet time. Taking 
 all risks, and putting to the hazard not 
 only his own life, but the lives of forty 
 others, Shelby rode one hundred and 
 sixty-two miles in twenty- six hours, sa- 
 ved Depreuil, rescuad his detachuient, 
 and received in a general order from 
 Bazaine the thanks of the French army. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Both by education and temperament 
 there were but few men better fitted to 
 accept the inevitable gracefully than 
 Gen. Shelby. It needed not Depreuil's 
 testimony, nor the immediate confirma- 
 tion thereof by Jeanuingros, to convince 
 him that Bazaine's order was impera- 
 tive. True enough, he might have 
 marched forth from Parras tree to 
 choose whatsoever route he i^leased, but 
 to become en raj^port with the Govern- 
 ment, it was necessary to obey Bazaine. 
 So when the good-byes were said, and 
 the column well in motion, it was not 
 towards the Pacific that the foremost 
 horsemen rode along. 
 
 As the expedition won well its way 
 into Mexico, many places old in local 
 song and story, arose, as it were, from 
 the past, and stood out, clear-cut and 
 ciimsou, against the background of 
 a history filled to the brim with rapine, 
 and lust, and slaughter. No otlier land 
 under the sun had an awakening so 
 storm begirt, a christening so bloody and 
 remorseless. First the Spaniards under 
 Cortez — swarr, fierce, long of broad- 
 sword and limb; and next the Revolu- 
 tion, wherein no man died peacefully or 
 under the shade of a roof. There was 
 Hidalgo, the ferocious Priest— shot. 
 
AN UXWRiriKN LEAK OI- THE WAR. 
 
 Moielos, with these woiils in his iiiouth 
 — sliot. "Lord, if I liave dgne well, 
 Thou knowest it; if ill, to Thy infinite 
 nieicy I commend uiy soul." Leonaido 
 Bravo, scorning to fly — shot. Nicholas 
 Bravo, his son, who had offered a thou- 
 sand captives for his fathtr's life — shot. 
 Matanioi-as — shot. Mina — shot. Gruer- 
 lera — shot. Then enme the Republic — 
 bloodier, bitterer, crueller. Victoria, its 
 hrst President — shot. Mexia— shot. Pe- 
 draza — shot. Santnnrnet — shot by Gen- 
 eral Auipndin, who cut off" his 
 liead, boiled it in oil, and stuck it up on 
 u pole to blacken in the sun. Herrera — 
 shot. Paredts— shot. All of them shot, 
 these Mexican Presidents, except Santa 
 Anna, who lost a leg by the French and 
 a country' by the Americans. Among 
 his game-cocks and his mistresses to- 
 day in Havana, he will see never again, 
 perhaps, the white brow of Orizava fi'om 
 the southern sea, and rest never again 
 i\nder the orange and the banana trees 
 about Cordova. 
 
 It was a laud old in the world's histo- 
 ry that these men rode into, and a land 
 stained m the. woi Id's crimes — aland 
 tilled f idl of the sun and the tiopics. 
 What w onder, then, that a deed was 
 done on the tifth's day marching that 
 hail about it the splendid dash and bra- 
 vado of mediaeval chivalry. 
 
 Keeping outermost guard one balmy 
 evening far beyond the silent camp of 
 the dreaming soldiers, James Wood and 
 Yandell Blackwell did vigilant duty in 
 front of the reserve. The tire had 
 gone out when the coolcing 
 M as done, and the earth .smelt sweet 
 with grasses, and the dew on the grasses. 
 Alow pulse of song broke on the beard- 
 ed faces of the cacti, and sobbed in 
 fading cadences as the waves that come 
 in from the salt sea, seeking the south 
 wind. This was tlie vesper strain of 
 the katydids, sad, solacing, rhythmical. 
 
 Before the wary ey^es of the sentinels 
 a ligure rose up, waving his blanket as a 
 truce-flag. Encoiu-aged, he came into 
 the lines, not fully assured of his bear- 
 ings—frightened a little, and prone to 
 
 be communicative by way of iiropitia- 
 tion. 
 
 Had the .\mericans heard of Encar- 
 nacion ? 
 
 No, they had not heard of Encama- 
 cion. What was Eucaruacion °! 
 
 The Mexican, born robber and devout 
 Catholic, crossed hinist;]f. Nottoha\e 
 heard of Encarnacion was next in in- 
 famy to have slaughtered a priest. Hor- 
 ror made him garrulous. Fear, if it 
 does not paraly/e, has been known to 
 uuike the dumb speak. 
 
 Encarnacion was a hacienda, and a 
 hacienda, literally translated, is a plan- 
 tation with royal stables, and acre.s of 
 corral, and abounding water, and long 
 rows of male and female slave cabins, 
 and a Don of an owner, who has music, 
 and singing-maidens, and pillars of sd- 
 ver dollars, and a passionate, brief life, 
 wherein wine and women rise upon it at 
 last and cut it short. Even if no ill- 
 luck intervenes, the pace to the devil is 
 a terrible one, and superb riders though 
 they are, the best seat in the saddle 
 sways heavily at last, and the truest 
 hand on the rein relaxes ere manhood 
 reaches its noon and the shadows of the 
 west. 
 
 Luis Eurico Eodriguez owned Encar- 
 ciou, a Spaniard born, and a patron saint 
 of all the robbers who lived in the 
 neighboring mountains, and of all the 
 senoritas who plaii ed their hair by the 
 banks of his arroyos and hid but charily 
 their dusky bodies in the limpid 
 waves. The hands of the French had 
 been laid upon him lightly. For forage 
 and foray Dupin had never penetrated 
 the mountain line Avhich shut in his 
 guarded dominions from the world 
 beyond. ^Vlipn stran<:er8 camehe gave 
 them greeting ; when soldiers came, he 
 gave them of his flocks and herds, his 
 wines and treasures. 
 
 There Avas one pearl, however, a pearl 
 of great price, whopi no stranger eyes 
 had ever seen, whom no stranger 
 tongue had ever spoken a fair good 
 morning. The slaves called it a spiiii , 
 the confessor a sorceress, the lazy gos- 
 sips a Gringo witch, the man who knew 
 
^8 
 
 SIIKLBY's expedition to MEXICO ; 
 
 best of all called it wife, and yet no 
 sprinkling of water or blessing of 
 churcli bad made the name a holy 
 one. 
 
 Rodriguez owned Encarnacion andEn- 
 carnacion owned a skeleton. This much 
 James Wood and Yandell Blackwell 
 knew when the half goat-herder and 
 robber had told but half his story. 
 When he had finished his other half, 
 this much remained of it : 
 
 Years before in Sonora a California 
 hunter of gold had found his way to 
 some streams where a beautiful Indian 
 woman lived with her tribe. They were 
 married, and a daughter was bom to 
 them, ha\ing her father's Saxon hair, 
 and her mother's eyes of tropical 
 dusk. From youth to womanhood 
 this daughter had been educated in San 
 Francisco. When she returned she was 
 an American, having nothing of her In- 
 dian ancestry but its color. Even her 
 mother's language was unknown to her. 
 One day in Guaymas, IJodnguez looked 
 upon her as a vision. He was a S])an- 
 iard and a millionaire, and he believed 
 all things possible. The wooing was 
 long, but the web, like the web of Pen- 
 elope, was never woven. He failed in 
 his eloquence, in his money, in his pas- 
 sionate entreaties, in his stratagems, m 
 his lyings in wait — in everything 
 that savored of pleading or purchase. 
 Some men come often to their last dol- 
 lar — never to the end of their audacity. 
 If fate shoubl choose to back a lover 
 against rhe world, fate would give 
 long odds on a Spaniard. 
 
 At last, when everything else had 
 been tried, Rodriguez determined upon 
 abduction. This was a common Mexican 
 cnstom, dangerous only in its failure. 
 No matter what the risk, no matter how 
 monstrous the circumstances, no matter 
 how many corpses lay in the pathway 
 leading up from plotting to fulfillment, 
 so only in the end the lusts of the man 
 triumphed over tlie virtue of tiie 
 woman. Gathering together hastily a 
 band of hiavos whose des^otion was in 
 exact proportion to the dollars paid, 
 Rodriguez seized upon the maiden, re- 
 
 tiu'ning late one night from the Opera, 
 and bore her away with all speed to- 
 wards Encarnacion. The Californian 
 born of a tiger race that invariably dies 
 hard, mounted such few men as loved 
 him and followed on furiously in pur- 
 suit. Bereft of his young, he had but 
 one thing to do — kill. 
 
 Fixed as fate and as relentless, the 
 race went on. Turning once tairly at 
 bay, pursued and pursuers met in a 
 death-grapple. The Californian died in 
 the tliiciv of tlie tight, leaving st'u-n and 
 stark traces behind of his terrible 
 prowess. What cared Rodriguez, how- 
 ever, for a bravo more or less? The 
 woman was safe, and on his own gar- 
 ments nowhere did the strife leave 
 aught of crimson or dust. Once well in 
 her chamber — a mistress, perhaps — a 
 prisoner, certainly, she beat her wings 
 in vain against the strong bars of her 
 palace, for all that gold could give or 
 passion suggest had been poured out at 
 the feet of Inez W^alker. Servants came 
 and went at her bidding. The priest 
 blessed and beamed upon her. The cap- 
 tor Avas fierce by turns and in the dust 
 at her shrine by turns ; but amid it all 
 the face of a ijiurdered father rose up in 
 her memory, and prayers for vengeance 
 upon her father's murderer broke ever 
 from her unrelenting lips. At times 
 fearful cries came out fi'om the woman's 
 chamber. The domestics heard them 
 and crossed themselves. Once in a 
 terrible storm she tied from her thral- 
 dom and wandered frantically about un- 
 til she sank do vn insensible. She was 
 found alone with her beauty and her 
 agony. Rodriguez lifted her in his aims 
 and bore h(>r back to her chamber. A 
 fever followed, scorching her wan face 
 until it was pitiful, and shredding away 
 her Saxon hair until all its gloss was 
 gone and all its silken rippling stranded. 
 She lived Oil, however, and under the 
 light of a Southern sky, and by the fitful 
 embers of a soldier's bivouac, a robber 
 goat-herd was telling the story of an 
 American's daughter to an American's 
 son. 
 
 Was it far to Encarnacion. 
 
AN UNWKITTEN I.KAF OF 'J'llK WAR. 
 
 :>V 
 
 Jim Wood asked the question in his 
 broken Spanish w ay, h)oking out to tlie 
 front, musiiiii-. 
 
 "liy to-morrow uiglit, Scuoi', you will 
 be there." 
 
 '•Have you told tiie straight truth, 
 Mexican?" 
 "As the Virjiin is true, Seuor." 
 "So be it. Yon will sleep this night 
 at the outjiost. To-morrow we shall 
 see." 
 
 Tlie Mexican smoked a cigarrito and 
 \\ ent to bed. Whether iie slept or not, 
 lie made no sign. Full coutidence very 
 rarely lays hold of an Indian's heart. 
 
 Repleuishiug the fire, Wood and 
 Blackwell sat an hour together in si- 
 lence. Beyond the sts eeping, untiring 
 glances of the eyes, the men were as 
 statues. Finally BlackAvell spoke to 
 Wood: 
 'T)f vihat are you thinking?" 
 "Encarnacion. And you?" 
 "Inez Walker. It is the same." 
 The Mexican turned in his blanket, 
 muttering. Wood's revolver covered 
 him : 
 
 "Lie still," he said, "and muffle up 
 your ears. You may not understand 
 English, but you understand this," and 
 he waved the pistol menacingly before 
 his eyes. "One never does know wlien 
 these yellow snakes are asleep." 
 
 "No matter," said Blackwell, senten- 
 tious(y; "they never sleep." 
 
 It was daylight again, and although 
 the two men had not unfolded their blan- 
 kets, they were as fresh as the dew on 
 the grasses— fresh enough to have plan- 
 ned an enterprise as daring and as des- 
 perate as anything ever drcaiied of in 
 romance or set forth in fable. 
 
 The to-mo]iow night of the. Mexican 
 had come, and tliere lay- En<'arn<.cion in 
 plain view under the starliuht. R(>d- 
 riguez had kept aloof from the encamp- 
 ment. Through the last hours of the 
 afternoon -wide hatted raucheros 
 had ridden up to the corral in 
 unusual numbers, had dismoun- 
 ted and had entered in. Shelby, who 
 took note of everything, took note also 
 of this. 
 
 "They do not come out," he said 
 "There are some signs of preparation 
 about,aml some fears manifested against 
 a night attack. By whom? Save our 
 grass and goats I know of no reason why 
 foraging sliould be heavier now than 
 formerly." 
 
 Twice Jim AVood had been ou the 
 point of telling him the whole story,aiid 
 twice his heart had failed him. Shelby 
 was getting sterner, of late, and thereijis 
 were becoming to be drawn tighter and 
 tigliter. Perhax)s it was necessary. Cer- 
 tainly since the last furious attack by 
 the guerrillas over beyond Parras, tliose 
 Avho had looked upon discipline as an 
 ill-favored mistress, had ended by em- 
 biaeing her. 
 
 As the picquets were being told off for 
 duty, Wood came close to Blackwell 
 and whispered : 
 
 "The men will be ready by twelve. 
 They are volunteers and splendid fel- 
 lows, How many of them will be shot?" 
 
 "Quien sabef Those who take the 
 sword shall perish by the sword." 
 
 "Bah! When you take a text take one 
 without a woman in it." 
 
 "I shall not preach to-night. Shelby 
 will do that to-morrow to all who come 
 forth scat hi ess," 
 
 With all his gold, and his leagues of 
 cattle and laud, Rodriguez had only for 
 eagle's nest an adobe eyrie. Hither his 
 dove had been carried. On the right of 
 this long rows of cabins ran the quar- 
 ters of his peons. Near to the great 
 gate were acres of corral. Within this 
 saddled steeds were in stall, lazily feed- 
 ing. A Mexican loves his horse, but 
 that is no reason why he does not starve 
 him. This night, however, Rodiignez 
 was bountiful. For figlit and flight 
 both men and animals must not go hun- 
 gry. On the top of the main building a 
 kind of tower lifted itself up. It was 
 roomy and spacious, ami flanked by 
 steps that clung to it tenaciously. In ' 
 the tower a light shone, while all below 
 and about it was hushed and impenetra- 
 ble. Higli adol>e walls encircled the 
 mansion, the cabins, the corral, the aca- 
 cia trees, the fountain that splashed 
 
6o 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 plaintively, and the massive portal 
 which had mystery written all over its 
 rugged outlines. 
 
 It may have been twelve o'clock. The 
 nearest picquet was beyond Encarna- 
 icon, and the camp guards were only for 
 sentinel duty. Free to come and go, the 
 men had no watchword lor the night. 
 None was needed. 
 
 Suddenly, and if one had looked up 
 from his blankets, he might have seen a 
 long, dark line standing out against tlie 
 sky. This line did not move. 
 
 Tt may have been twelve o'clock. 
 There was no moon, yet the stars gave 
 light enough for the men so see each 
 other's faces and to recognize one an- 
 other. It was a quarter of a mile from 
 the camp to the hacienda, and about the 
 same distance to the picquet posts from 
 where tlie soldiers had formed. In the 
 ranks one might have seen such cam- 
 paigners — stern, and rugged, and scant 
 f)f speech m danger — as McDougal I, Bos- 
 well, Armistead, Winship, Ras Woods 
 Macey, Vines, Kirtley, Blackwell, Tom 
 Endd, Crockett, Collins, Jack Williams, 
 Owens,TiaTil)erlake,Darnall,.Tohnsou,and 
 the two Be rrys, Richard and Isaac. Jim 
 Wood stood forward by right as leader. 
 All knew he would carry them far 
 enough; some may have thought, per- 
 haps, that he would carry them too far. 
 
 The line, hushed now and ominous, 
 still stood as a wall. From front to rear 
 Wood walked along its Avhole length, 
 speaking some low and cheering words. 
 
 "Boys," he commenced, "none of us 
 know what is waiting inside the corral. 
 Mexicans tight well in the dark, it is 
 said, and see better than wolves, but we 
 must have that American woman safe 
 out of their hands, or we rrmst burn the 
 buildings. If the liazard is too great for 
 any of you, step out of the ranks. What 
 Ave are about to do must needs be done 
 quickly. Shelby sleeps little of late, 
 and may be, even at this very moment, 
 searching through the camp for some of 
 us. Let hira find even so much as one, 
 blaidtet empty, and from the heroes of a 
 night attack we shall become its crim- 
 innls," 
 
 Sweeny, a one-armed soldier who had 
 served under Walker m Nicaragua, and 
 who was in the front always in hours of 
 enterprize or peril, replied to Wood : 
 
 " Since time is valuable, lead on." 
 
 The line put itself in motion. Two 
 men sent forAvard to try the great gate, 
 returned rapidly. Wood met them. 
 
 "Weirf he said. 
 
 " It is dark all about there, and the 
 gate itself is as strong as a mountain." 
 
 " We shall batter it down. 
 
 A beam Avas brought — a huge piece of 
 timber Avrenched from the upright fas- 
 tenings of a large irrigating basin. 
 Twenty men manned this and adA-auced 
 upon the gate. In an instant thereafter 
 there were tremendous and resoiinding 
 blows, shouts, cries, oaths and muvsket 
 shots. Before this gigantic battering- 
 ram adobe Avails and iron fastenings 
 gave way. The bars of the barrier Avere 
 l)roken as reeds, the locks were crushed, 
 the hinges were beaten in, and with a 
 fiei'ce yell and rush the Americans 
 swarmed to the attack of the main build- 
 ing. The light in the toAA'er guided 
 them. A le^iion ot deA'ils seemed to 
 have broken loose. The stabled steeds 
 of the Mexicans reared and plunged in 
 tlie infernal din of the fight, and dashed 
 hither and thither, masteiless and rider- 
 less. 
 
 The cani]> wlune Shelby rested was 
 alarmed iustantlj'. Ihe slu'ill notes of 
 t»]e bugle were heard over all the tu- 
 mult, and Avith them the encouraging 
 voice of Wood. 
 
 "Make haste ! make haste, men, fv)r in 
 tAventy minutes we Avill be between tAvo 
 fires !" 
 
 Crouching in the stables, and pouring 
 forth a murderous fire from their am - 
 bush in the darkness, some tAventy 
 rancheros made sudden and desperate 
 battle. Leading a dozen men against 
 them, Macy and Ike Beriy charged 
 through the gloom and upon the un - 
 knowii, guided only by the lurid and fit- 
 ful flashes of the raiiskets. When the 
 work was o\'er the corral no longer a om- 
 ited its flame. Silence reigned there — 
 that feariul and ominous silence i\t 
 
AN UN'WUITTEN LEAK OF THE WAU. 
 
 only for tlie dead wlio died sudderil.y. 
 
 The camp, no loujjer iu sleep, had be- 
 pxjine menaciiifr. Short words of coni- 
 inaud came ovit of it, and the tread of 
 men foimiu^ rapidly for battle. Some 
 skirmisliers, even in the very tirst mo- 
 ments of the combat, had been thrown 
 forward quite to the Imdenda. These 
 were almost nude, and stood out tinder 
 the starlight as white spectres, threat - 
 <'ning yet undefined. They had guns 
 at least, and pistols, and iu so much 
 they were mortal. These spectres had 
 reason, too. Close upon the fragments 
 of the great gate, and h)ol\ing in uyjon 
 the waves of the tight as they I'ose ;ind 
 fell, they yet did not tire. They be- 
 lieved, at least, that simie of their kin- 
 dred and comrades were there. 
 
 For a brief t(^n minutes more (he c<mi- 
 bat raged evenly. Cheered by the voice 
 of Tlodrignez, and stimulated by his ex- 
 ample, his retainers climg l)itterly to the 
 figh t. The doors were as redoubts. The 
 windows were as miniature casemates. 
 Once on the steps of the toAverRodriquez 
 sli(>\ved himself for a second. A dozen 
 of the best shots in the attacking party 
 fired at him. No answer save a curse of 
 defiance so harsli and savage that it 
 sonnded uunatural even in the roar of 
 the furious hurrican(>. 
 
 There was a lull. Every Mexican 
 eombattaut outside the main building 
 had been killed or wounded. Against 
 the niassJAe walls of the adobes the 
 rifle bullets made no IieadAvay. It was 
 murder longer to oppose flesh to ma- 
 sonry. Tom Rudd was killed, young 
 and dauntless; Crockett, the he]o of 
 the Lampasas duel, was dead ; Rogers 
 was dead ; the boy ProAiues was dead ; 
 Matterhorn, a stark giant of a Genuan, 
 shot four times, was breathing his last ; 
 and the \\ounded were on all sides, 
 sorab hard bit, and some Ideediug, yet 
 fi,^b(ing on. 
 
 "Once more to the learn,'' shouted 
 Wood. 
 
 Again the grtat batteiing-ram crashed 
 against the great door leading into the 
 main hall, and again there was a rend- 
 ing away (tf iron^, and wood, and moi- 
 
 tar. Through sidiutered timVx'r, and 
 over crumbling and jagged masonry, the 
 beseigers pinned. The builduig wafe" 
 gained. Once well withinside, the stojni 
 of revolver balls was terrible. Therci 
 personal prowess told, and there the 
 killing was quick and desperate. At 
 the head of his hunted following, Rod- 
 riguez fought like the Spaniard he was, 
 stubbornly, and to the last. No lami)s 
 lit the savage melee. While the Mexi- 
 cans stood u]) to be shot at, they were 
 shot where they stood. The niost of 
 them died there. Some few l)roke away 
 towards the last and escaped, for no 
 pursuit was attempted, and no man 
 cared how many fled nor how fast. It 
 was the woman the Americans wanted. 
 Gold and silver oruanienls were eveiy- 
 where, and i)recious tapeslry work, and 
 many rare and quaint and woven 
 things, but the powder-blackened and 
 blood-stained hands of the assailants 
 touched not one of these. It was too 
 dark to tell who killed Rodriguez. To 
 the last his voice could be heard cheer- 
 ing on his men, and calling down God's 
 vengeance on the Giingos. Those who 
 tired at him specially tired at his voice, 
 for the smoke was stifling, and the sul- 
 phurous fumes of the gunpowder jilmost 
 unbearable. 
 
 When the hacienda was won Shelby 
 had arrived with the rest of the cot>i- 
 mand. He had mistaken tlie causi- of 
 the attack, and his mood was of that 
 kind which but seldom came to him, 
 but which, when H did conif>, had sev- 
 eral times before made s<nrie of hismost 
 hardened and unruly fcdiowers tremble 
 and turn pale. He had caused the 
 hadenda to be surrounded closely, and 
 he had come alone to the doorway, a 
 look of wrathful menace on his nsually 
 placid face. 
 
 "Who among you ha\e done this 
 thing f he atjked, in tones that Avere 
 calm yet full and A'^ibrating. 
 
 No answer. The men put up their 
 weapons. 
 
 "Speak, some of a on. Let me not 
 find cowards insleail of plnndejers, 
 lest I finish the woik upon \oii all that 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 the Mexicans did so poorlj^ upon a few." 
 Jim Wood came forward to the trout 
 then. Covered with blood and powder- 
 stams, lie seemed in sony plight to make 
 much headway in defeuce of the night's 
 doing-s, yet he told the tale as straight 
 as the goatherd had told it to him, 
 aud in such simple soldier fashion, 
 taking all the sin upon 
 his own head aud hands, tliat even the 
 stern features of his commander re- 
 laxed a Mttle, and he fell to musing. 
 It may have been that the desperate ua- 
 ture of the enterprise appealed more 
 strongly to his own feelings than he was 
 willing that his men should know, or it 
 may have been that his set purpose 
 softened a little when he saw so many 
 of his bravest aud best soldiers come 
 out from the darkness and staud in 
 silence about their leader Wood, some 
 of them sorely wounded, and all of them 
 covered with the signs of the desperate 
 fight, but certain it is that when be 
 spoke again his voice was more relent- 
 ing and assuring : 
 "And where is the woman f 
 Through all the teirible moments of 
 the combat the light m the tower had 
 burned as a beacon. Perhaps in those 
 lew seconds when Rodriguez stood 
 filoue upon the steps leading up to the 
 doves'-nest, in a tempest of fire and 
 smoke, the old love might have been 
 busy at his heart, and the old yearning 
 strong within him to make at last some 
 peace with h r for whom he had so 
 deeply sinned, and for Avhose sake he 
 was soon to so dreadfully suffer. Death 
 makes many a sad atonement, and 
 though late in coming at times to the 
 evil aud the good alike, it may be that 
 when the records of the heart are writ 
 beyond the wondeifui river, much that 
 was dark on earth will be bright in 
 eternity, and much that was cruel and 
 fierce in finite judgioeut will be made 
 fair aud beautiful when it is know'u 
 how love gathered up the threads of des- 
 tiny, aud how all the warp that w^as 
 blood-stained, aud all the woof that had 
 bitterness and tears upon it, coidd be 
 traced to a woman's hand, 
 
 Grief -stricken, i)rematurely old, yet 
 beantifid even amid the loneliuess of 
 her situation, Inez Walker came into 
 the presence of Shelby, a queen. Some 
 strands of gray were in her glossy, gold- 
 en hair. The liquid light of her large 
 dark eyes had long ago been (luenched 
 iu tears. The form that had once been 
 so full ami perfect, was now bent aud 
 fragile ; but there was such a look of 
 mournf id tenderness in her eager, ques- 
 tioning face that the men drew back 
 from her presence instinctively and left 
 her alone with their General, lie re- 
 ceived her coiiiniands as if she were be- 
 stowing a favur utio'.i liiiii, lisiiiiing as a 
 brother might until all her wishes were 
 made known. These he promised to 
 carry out to the letter, and how well he 
 did so, this narrative will further tell. 
 For the rest of that uight she was left 
 alone with her dead. Recovered some- 
 what from the terrors of the wild attack, 
 her women came back to her, weeping 
 over the slain and praying piteously for 
 their souls as well. 
 
 When the dead had been buried, when 
 the wounded had been cared for, and 
 when Wood had received a warning 
 w^hich he will remember to his dying 
 day, the column started once more on 
 its march to the souih. AA'ith the guard 
 of honor regularly detailed to protect 
 the families of those who were travel- 
 ing with the expedition, there was an- 
 other carriage new to the men. None 
 sought to know its occupiint. The 
 night's work had left upon all a sorrow 
 that was never euiirely obliterated — a 
 memory that even now, through the 
 lapse of long years, comes back to all 
 who witne'ssed it as a memory that 
 brings with it more of real regret than 
 gladness. 
 
 C;riAPTER XTIl. 
 The great guns were roaring furiously 
 at Matehuala when the expedition came 
 within hearing distance of its outposts. 
 Xi;iht had fallen over the city, aud its 
 twenty-thousand inhabitants, 1 >ef ore 
 the advanced guard. of the coluum had 
 
Ax UNWRITTEN LEAF OK TIIK WAR 
 
 h 
 
 luilted for furhlier orders. The lui- 
 kiiowii Wiis ahead. All dfsy, amid the 
 mouutains, there had come upon the 
 breeze the deep, prok)uged rumltling of 
 artillery tiring ; ;m<l as the colnmi) iip- 
 ])roaelied nearer and nearer to the cit.y, 
 there were min'.vled with the hoarse 
 voices^ of the eauuon the nearer and 
 deadlier ratlle of incessant musketry. 
 
 Shelby rode np to the head of his ad- 
 vance and enquired the cause of the 
 heavy fliino-. No one could tell him. 
 
 "Tlien we will camp," he said. "Af- 
 terwaids a few scout.-5 shall determine 
 definitely." 
 
 The number of scouts detailed for 
 service was not iars^e — probably sixty 
 all told. These were divided into four 
 detachments, each detachment being- 
 sent out in a direction ditferent 
 from the others. James Kirtly led 
 one, Dick Collins another, Jo. 
 Macey the third, and Dorsey the 
 fourth. They were to bring word back 
 of the meaning of all tliat infeiual noise 
 and din that had been raging about 
 ^Matehuala the whole day through. And 
 thej'didit. 
 
 Kirtly took the main road running 
 down squarely into the city. A piquet 
 l)ost barred his further progress. Mak- 
 ing a circuit cautiously, he gained the 
 rear of this, and came upon a line oF 
 soldiers in bivouac. In the shadow 
 himself, the light of the campfires re- 
 vealed to him the great forms and 
 the swarthy countenances of a battalion 
 of guerrillas. Further beyond there 
 were other fires at which other battal- 
 ions were cooking and resting. 
 
 Collins Avas less fortunate in tliis that 
 he had to light a little. Warned against 
 using weapons except in self defense, 
 he had drawn up his small detachment 
 under the cover of a clump of mesquite 
 bushes, watching the road along which 
 men were riding to a'ul fro. His am- 
 bush w^as discovered, and a comi)auy of 
 cavalry came galloping down to uncov- 
 er his position. Halted twice they still 
 continued to advance. There Avas no 
 help for it save a point blank volley, 
 and this was given with a will and in 
 
 the darkness. Some saddles were 
 emptied, and one riderless liorse dashed 
 into the midst of the Americans. This 
 was secured and caiTied into camp. 
 
 Macey made a wide detour u])(;n the 
 left of the road, and across some culti- 
 vated fields in which were a few huts 
 filled with peons. Five of these peons 
 were captured and brought back to Shel- 
 by. Questioned closely, they levealed 
 the whole situation. jMatehuala v.as 
 held by a French garrison numbering 
 five hundred of the 82d infantry 
 of the line— a weak detach 
 ment enough for such an expos- 
 ed outpost. These five hundred 
 Frenchmen were commanded by Major 
 Henry Pierron, an officer of extreme 
 youth and dauntless enterprise. 
 
 Shelby called a council of his officers 
 at once. The peons had further told 
 him that the besieging force was com- 
 posed of about two thousand guerrillas, 
 under Col. Escobeda, brother of that 
 other one who laughed, and was glad 
 exceedinglj', when Maximilian fell, 
 butchered and betra^^ed, at Queretero. 
 At daylight the garrison was to be at- 
 tacked again, and so what was to be 
 done had great need to be done quickly. 
 
 The officers came readily, and Shelby 
 addressed them. 
 
 '•\Ye have marched far, we have but 
 scant money, our horses are foot-soi'e 
 and much in need of shoes, and Matehu 
 ala is across the only road for scores of 
 miles in any direction that leads to Mex- 
 ico. Shall we turn back and take an- 
 other?" 
 
 "No! no!" in a kind of angry murmur 
 i'rom the men. 
 
 "But there are two thousand Mexican 
 soldiers, or robbers, Avho are lu^xt ot 
 kin, across this road, and we may ha\'e 
 to fight a little. Are .vou tired of fight- 
 ing T' 
 
 "Lead us on and see," was the cry, 
 and this time his office rs had begun to 
 catch his meaning. They xmderstood 
 now that be was tempting them. Al- 
 ready determined in his own mind to 
 attack the Mexicans at daylight, he sim- 
 ply wished to see h(jw uiucli of his own 
 
64 
 
 Shelby's kxpedition to mmxico ; 
 
 desire was in tlic bosoms of liis subor- 
 dinates. 
 
 "One oMier thing," said Shelby, "be- 
 fore we separate. From among you I 
 wanf a couple of volunteers — two men 
 who will take theii- lives in tlieir hands 
 and find an entrance into Matehuala. 
 I must communicate with Pierrou be- 
 fore daylight. It is necessary that 
 lie should know how near there is suc- 
 cor to him. and how furiously we mean 
 to charge them in the morning. Who 
 will go V 
 
 All who were present volunteered, 
 stepping one pace nearer to their com- 
 mander in a body. He chose but two- 
 James Cundiff and Elias Ilodge — two 
 men tit for any mission no matter how 
 forlorn or desperate. 
 
 By this time they liad learned enough 
 of Spanish to buy meat and biead — not 
 enough to pass undetected an (mtlying 
 guerrilla with an eye like a lynx and a 
 ear keener than a cayote's. They started, 
 however, just the same. Shelbj' would 
 wiite nothing. 
 
 "A document might hang you," he 
 said, "and, besides, Pierjon caniu^t, in 
 all i)robability, read my English. Go, 
 and may God protect ycm." 
 
 These two dauntless men then shook 
 hands with their commander, and with 
 the few comrades nearest. After that 
 they disappeared in the unknown. It 
 was a cloudy night, and some wind 
 l>lew. In this they wei-e gieatly favored. 
 The darkness hid the clear outlines of 
 their forms, and the wind blended the 
 tread of tlieir footsteps with the rustling 
 of tlie leaves and the grasses. Two re- 
 Aolvers and a Sharpens carbine each 
 made up the ectuiimient. Completely 
 ignorant of the entire topography of tlje 
 country, they yet had a kind of vague 
 idea of the direction in which Matehuala 
 lay. They knew that the main load 
 was haid beset by guerrillas, and that 
 upon the rigid a broken aiid pre«'ipitous 
 ciiain of mountains encircled the city 
 and made hi'adwi y in that direction 
 well nigh impossible. They chose the 
 left, therefore, as the least of three 
 evils. 
 
 It WHS now altout midnight, and it 
 was two long miles to Matehuala. Shel- 
 by required tfiem to enter into the city; 
 about their coming back lie was not so 
 particular. Cundiff led, Hodge follow- 
 ing in Indian fashion. At intervals 
 both men would draw themselves up 
 an<l listen, long and anxiously. At last 
 af . er crossing a wide field, intersected 
 by ditches and but recently plowed, 
 tliey came to a road which had a mes- 
 quite hedge on one side, and a fence, 
 with a few straggling ])oles in it, on the 
 other. Gliding stealthily down this 
 road, the glimmering of a light in fiout 
 warned them of immediate danger. In 
 avoiding this they came upon another 
 house; and in going still further to the 
 left to avoid this also, they found them- 
 selves in the midst of a kind of extend- 
 ed village — one of those interminable 
 suburbs close to yet disconnected from 
 all Mexican cities. 
 
 Wherever there was a tloida — that is 
 to say, a place where the lieiy native 
 drink of the country is sold— two or 
 three saddle horses might have been 
 seen. In whispers, the men conferred 
 together. 
 
 "They are here," said Hodge. 
 
 "They seem to be everywhere," an- 
 swered Cundiff. 
 
 "What do you propose °?" 
 
 "To glide quietly through. 1 have a 
 strong belief that beyond this village 
 we shall find Matehuala." 
 
 They struck out boldly agaiu, ])assing 
 near to a tienda in which there wei e 
 music and dancing. When outside of 
 the glare of the light which streamed 
 from its open door, the sound of hoises' 
 feet coming down the road they had 
 just traveled called for instant conceal- 
 ment. They crouched low behind a 
 large maguey plant and waited. The 
 horsemen came light onward, laugh- 
 ing loud and boisterously. They «lid 
 not halt in tlie village, but rode on by 
 the ambush and so close that they could 
 have touched the Americans Avith a 
 sabre. 
 
 "A scratch," said Hodgi, breathing 
 more freely. 
 
AN I.TNWraTTKX I.KAK OF tHK WAR. 
 
 65 
 
 "Hush," said Cnmlilt', ci'oacliiu^;- stil! 
 closer in the shadow of the maguey, 
 "the worst is yet to come.'' 
 
 And it was. From wlieie the Ameri- 
 cai^s had liiddeu, to the tienda in whioh 
 the Mexicans were carousing, it was 
 probably tit'teeii paces. The sndden 
 galloping of the horsemen through tlie 
 vilUige had startled the revellers. If 
 they were friends, they called out to 
 each other, they would have tarried long- 
 enough for a stirru]) cup ; if they are 
 enemies we shall pursue. 
 
 The Mexicans were a little drunk, yet 
 not enough so to make them negligent. 
 After mounting their horses, they spread 
 out in skirmishing order, with an inter- 
 val, probably, of five feet Ijetween each 
 man.* Against the full glare that stream- 
 ed out from the lighted doorway, the 
 picturesque forms of five guerrillas out- 
 lined themselves. The silver ornaments 
 on their bridles shone, the music of the 
 spurs penetrated to the ambush, and 
 the wide somhreros told all too well the* 
 calling of those mounted robbers vrho 
 are wolves in pursuit and tigers in vic- 
 tory. None have ever been known to 
 spare. 
 
 Hodge would talk, brave as he vv-as, 
 and imminent as was his peril. Even 
 in this exli^emity his soldierly tactics 
 came uppermost, 
 
 "There are five," he said, "and we are 
 
 but two. We have fought w^orse odds." 
 
 "Bo we have," answei^ed Cundiif, "and 
 
 may do it Jigain before this night's work 
 
 is over. Lie low and wait." 
 
 The guerrillas came right onward. At 
 a loss to understand fully the nature of 
 the men who had just ridden tlirough 
 the village, they wei-e manouvering now 
 as if they expected to meet them in 
 hostile array at any moment. There 
 were tiftj- chances tn five that some one 
 of the skirmishers would discover the 
 ambush. 
 
 Although terrible, the suspense was 
 brief. Between the maguey plant and 
 the road, tw^o of the guerrillas filled up 
 the interval. This left the three others 
 to the left and rear. They had their 
 musquetoous in their hands, and were 
 
 ttA 
 
 searci:ing keenly every clump of grass 
 or patch of underbrush. Those nearest 
 the road had passed on, and those upon 
 the left were just abreast of the ambush. 
 The Americans did not breathe. Sud- 
 denly, and with a fierce shout, the third 
 skirmisher in the line yelled out: 
 
 "What ho ! comrades, close u]) — close 
 up— here are two skulking Frenchmen. 
 jPe>- Dios, but we will have their heart's 
 blood." 
 
 As he shouted he levelled his musket 
 until its muzzle almost touched the quiet 
 face of Cundiff, the rest of the Mexicans 
 rushing up furiously to the spot. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 If it be true, that when a woman hesi- 
 tates she is lost, the adage applies with 
 a ten -fold greater tlegree of precision to 
 a Mexican guerrilla, who has come sud- 
 denly' upon an American in ambush, and 
 who,mistaking him for a French soldier, 
 hesitates to fire until he has' called 
 around him his comrades. A revolver 
 to a Frenchman is an unknown weapon. 
 Skill in its use is something he never 
 acqitires. Rarely a favorite in his hands 
 no matter how great the stress, nor hovr 
 friglitfnl the danger, it is the muzzle- 
 loadci that ever comes uppermost, fa- 
 vored above all other Aveapons that 
 might have been had for the asking. 
 
 Cundiff, face to face with imminent 
 death, meant to fight to the last. His 
 orders were to go into Matehuala, and 
 not to give up as a wolf that is taken in 
 a trap. His revolver was in his hand, 
 and the Mexican took one second too 
 many to run his eye along the barrel of 
 his musquetoon. With a motion as in- 
 stantaneous as it was unexpected, Cun- 
 difi:' fired fair at the Mexican's breast,the 
 bullet speeding true and terrible to its 
 mark. He fell forward over his horse's 
 head with a ghastly cry, his four com- 
 panions crowding around his prostrate 
 body, fTightened, it may be. but bent on 
 vengeance. As they grouped themselves 
 together, Hodge and Cundifi shot into 
 the crowd, wounding another guerrilla 
 
66 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 and oae of the horses, and then broke 
 away from cover and ruslied on to- 
 wards Matelmala. The road ran direct- 
 ly througli a village. This village was 
 long and scattering, and alive with sol- 
 diers. A great shout was raised; ten 
 thousand dogs seemed to be on the alert, 
 more furious tlian the men, and keener 
 of sight and scent. The flight became a 
 hunt. The houses sent armed men in 
 pursuit. The five guerrillas, reduced 
 now to three, led the rush, but not des- 
 jjerately. Made acquainted wltli the 
 stern prowess of the Americans, they 
 had no heart for a close grapple witliout 
 heavy odds. At intervals CuDdiif and 
 Hodge would halt and lire back with 
 their carbines, and theu press forward 
 again through the darkness. Two men 
 were keeping two hundred at bay, and 
 Cundiff spoke to Hodge : 
 
 "This pace is fearful. How long can 
 you keep it up V 
 
 "Not long. There seems, however, to 
 be a light ahead." 
 
 And til ere was. A large fire, distant 
 some five hundred yards, came suddenly 
 in sight. The rapid firing coming from 
 both pursuers and pursued, had created 
 commotion in front. There were the 
 rallying notes of a bugle, and the sud- 
 den forming of a line of men immedi- 
 ately in front of the camp-tire seen by 
 the Americans. Was it a French out- 
 post,'? Neither knew, but against this 
 unforseen danger now outlined fully 
 in the front, that in the rear Avas too 
 near and too deadly to permit of prepa- 
 ration. 
 
 "We are surrounded," said Hodge. 
 
 "Rather say we are in the breakers, 
 and that in trying to avoid Scylla we 
 shall be wrecked upon Charybdis," re- 
 plied Cundiff, turning coolly to his com- 
 rade, after firing deliberately upon the 
 nearest of the puisuers, and halting- 
 long enough to reload his carbine. "It 
 all depends upon a single chance." 
 
 "And what is that chance V 
 
 "To escape the first close fusillade of 
 the French." 
 
 "But are they French — those fellows 
 in front of us V 
 
 "Can't you swear to that ? Did you 
 not mark how accurately they fell into 
 line, and how silent everything has been 
 since? Keep your ears wide open, and 
 when you hear a single voice call out, 
 fall flat upon the ground. That single 
 voice will be the leader's ordering a 
 volley." 
 
 It would seem that the Mexicans also 
 had begun to realize the situation. A 
 last desperate rush had been determined 
 upon, and twenty of the swiftest and 
 boldest pursuers charged furiously down 
 at a run, firing as they came on. There 
 was no shelter, and Cundiff and Hodge 
 stood openly at bay, holding, each, his 
 fire, until the oncoming mass was only 
 twenty yards away. Then the revolver 
 volleys were incessant. At a distance 
 they sounded as if a company were en- 
 gaged; to the guerrillas the two men 
 had multiplied themselves to a dozen. 
 
 The desperate stand made told well. 
 The fierce charge expended itself. 
 Those farthest in the front slackened 
 their pace, halted, fell back, retreated a 
 little, yet still kept up an incessant 
 volley. 
 
 "Come," said Cundiff, "and let's try 
 the unknown. These fellows in the rear 
 have had enough." 
 
 Instead of advancing together now, 
 one skirted the road on the left and the 
 other on the right. The old skirmisli- 
 ing drill was beginning to re-asseit it- 
 self again — a sure sign that the danger 
 in the rear had transferred itself to the 
 front. Of a sudden a clear, resonant 
 voice came from the direction of the 
 fire. Cundiff and Hodge fell forward 
 instantly upon their faces, a hurricane 
 of balls swept over and beyond them, 
 and for reply the loud, calm shout of 
 Hodge was heard in parley : 
 
 "Hold on, men, hold on. We are but 
 two and we are friends. See, we come 
 into your lines to make our words good. 
 We are Americans and we have tidings 
 fur Capt. Pierron." 
 
 Four Frencli soldiers came out to meet 
 them. Explanations w^cre mutually had, 
 and it ;svas long past midnight when the 
 commander of the garrison had finished 
 
AN UNWRITTEN L.EAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 ^1 
 
 his conference with the daring scouts, 
 and had been well assured of his timely 
 and needed succor. 
 
 Pierron offered them food and lodg- 
 ing. 
 
 "We must return," said Cundiif. 
 
 The Frenchman opeiied his eyes wide 
 with surprise. 
 
 "Eeturn, the devil! You have not 
 said your prayers yet for being per- 
 mitted to get in." 
 
 "No matter. He prnys best who tights 
 the best, and Shelby gives no thanks 
 for unlinished work. Am I right, 
 Hoilge V 
 
 "Now as always ; but surely Captain 
 Pierron can send us by a nearer road." 
 
 The Frenchman thus appealed to, gave 
 the two men an escort ot forty cuiras- 
 siers and sent them back to Shelby's 
 camp by a road but slightly guarded, 
 the Mexican picquets upon it tiling but 
 once at long range and then scampering 
 away. 
 
 It was daylight, and the great guns 
 were roaring again. The column got it- 
 self in motion at once and waited. Shel- 
 by's orders were repeated by each cap- 
 tain to his company, and in words so 
 plain that he who ran migiithave under- 
 stood. The attack was to be made in 
 column of fouis, the men firing right 
 and lef-t from the two files as they dash- 
 ed in among the Mexicans. It was the 
 old way of doing deadly work, and not 
 a man there was unfamiliar with the 
 duty marked out for his hands to do. 
 
 Largely outnumbered, the French 
 were fighting as men tight who know 
 that defeat means destruction. Many 
 of them had been killed. Pierron was 
 anxious, and through the rising mists of 
 the morning, his eyes more than once, 
 and with an eagerness not usually there, 
 looked away to the front where he knew 
 the needed succor lay. It came as it al- 
 ways came, whether to fiiend or foe, in 
 time. Not a throb of the laggard's pulse 
 had Shelby ever felt, and upon this day 
 of all days of his stormy career, he 
 meant to do a soldier's sacred duty. 
 From a walk the column passed into a 
 trot, Shelby leading. There was no ad- 
 
 vance guard ahead, and none was 
 needed. 
 
 "We know what is before us," was his 
 answer to Langhorne, "and it is my 
 pleasure this morning to receive the fire 
 first of you all. Take your place with 
 yocr company, the fifth from the front." 
 
 "Gallop— march !" 
 
 The men gathered up the reins and 
 straightened themselves in their stir- 
 rups. Some Mexicans were in the road 
 before them and halted. The appari- 
 tion to them came from the unknown. 
 They might have been spectres, but 
 they were armed, and armed spectres 
 are terrible. The alarm of the night 
 before had been attributed to the dar- 
 ing of two adventurous Frenchmen. 
 Not one oE the besieging host had 
 dreamed that a thousand Americans 
 were within two miles of Matehuala, re 
 solved to fight for the besieged, and 
 take the investing lines in rear and at the 
 gallop. 
 
 On one side of the road down which 
 Shelby was advancing there ran a chain 
 of broken and irregular hills, on the 
 other, the long, straggling village in 
 which Cundiff and Hodge had well nigh 
 sacrificed themselves. These the day- 
 light revealed perfectly. Between the 
 hills and the village was a plain, and in 
 this plain the Mexican forces were 
 drawn up, three lines deep, having as a 
 point cVapjjiii a heavy six-gun battery. 
 
 Understanding at last that while the 
 column coming down from the rear was 
 not Frenchmen, it was not friendly, the 
 Mexicans made some dispositions to re- 
 sist it. Too late! Caught between two 
 inexorable jaAvs, they were crushed be- 
 fore they were aware of the peril. Shel- 
 by's charge was like a thunder-cloud. 
 Nothing could live before the storm of 
 its revolver bullets. Lurid, canopied in 
 smoke-wreaths, pitiless, keeping right 
 onward, silent in all save the roar of the 
 ievolveis,there was first a line that fired 
 upon it, and then a great upheaving and 
 rending asunder. When the smoke 
 rolled away the battery had no living 
 thing to lift a hand in its defense, and 
 the fugitives were in hopeless and help- 
 
Shelby's expedition to mexico ; 
 
 less flight towards the mountains on tlie 
 right and towards the village upon the 
 left. Pursuit Shelby made none, but 
 God pity all whom the French cuiras- 
 siers overtook, and who, cloven from 
 somhrero to sword-helt, fell thick in all 
 the streets of the village, and died hard 
 among the dagger-trees and the preci- 
 pices of the stony and unshelteriug 
 mountains. 
 
 Pierron came fortli with ])is entire 
 garrison to thank and welcome his 
 preservers. The freedom of the city was 
 extended to Shelby, tlie stores of the 
 post were at his disposal, money was 
 offered and refused, and for three long 
 and delightful days the men rested and 
 feasted. To get shoes for his horses, 
 Shelby had fought a battle, nob blood- 
 less, however, to him, but a battle treas- 
 ured to-day in the military archives of 
 France— a battle which won for him the 
 gratitude of the whole French army, 
 and M'hich, in the end, turned from him 
 the confidence of Maximilian and ren- 
 dered abortive all his efforts to recruit 
 for the Austrian a corps that would have 
 kept him upon his throne. Verily, man 
 proposes and God dispo'^es. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Pierron made Matehuala a Paradise. 
 There were days of feasting, and- mirth, 
 and minstrelsy ; and in the balm of fra- 
 grant nights the men dallied with the 
 women. So when the southward march 
 was resumed, many a bronf^ed face was 
 set in a look of sadness, and many a re- 
 gretful heart pined long and tenderly 
 for the dusky hair tliat would never be 
 plaited again— for the tropical lips thai 
 for them would never sin'g again the 
 songs of the roses and the summertime. 
 
 Adventures grew thick along the road 
 as cactus plants. Villages multiplied, 
 and as the ride went on, larger towns 
 and larger populations were daily en- 
 tered into. The French held all the 
 country. Everywhere could be seen the 
 pjcturesqe uniforms of the Zouaves, jthe 
 
 soberer garments of the Voltigeurs, the 
 gorgeous array of the Chasseurs, and the 
 more sombre and forbidding aspect of 
 the Foot Artillery. The French held all 
 the country— that is to say, wherever a 
 French garrison had stationed itself, or 
 whei'ever a French expeditionary force, 
 or scouting force, or reconnoitermg lorce 
 had camped or was on the march, such 
 force held all the country within the 
 range of their cannon and their chasse- 
 pots. Otherwise not. Guerrillas abound- 
 ed in the mountains ; rol)bers fed and 
 fattened by all the streams; spies 
 swarmed upon the haciendas, and cruel 
 and ruthless scoru-ges from the marches 
 rode in under the full of the tropical 
 moons, and slew for a whole night 
 through, and on many a night at inter- 
 vals thereafter, whoever of Mexican or 
 Punic faith had carried truth or tidings 
 of Liberal movements to the French. 
 
 It was in Dolores, the home of Hidal- 
 go— ]>riest, butclier, revolutionist— that 
 those wonderful blankets are made 
 which blend the colors of the rainbow 
 with the strength of the north wind. 
 Soft, warm, gorgeous, flexible, two strong 
 horses cannot pull them assunder — two 
 weeks of an east rain cannot find a pore 
 to penetrate. Marvels of an art that has 
 never yet been analyzed or transferred, 
 Dolores, a century old, has yet an older 
 secret than itself — the secret of their 
 weaving. 
 
 Shelby's discipline was now sensibly 
 Increasing. As the men marched into 
 the South, and as the soft airs blew for 
 them, and the odorous blossoms opened 
 for them, and the dusky beauties were 
 gay and gracious for them, they began 
 to chafe under the iron rule of the 
 camp, and the inexorable logic of guard 
 and picquet duty. Once a detachment 
 of ten, told off' for the grand guards, re- 
 fused to stir from the mess-fire about 
 whicli an elegant sui)per was being pre- 
 pared. 
 
 And in such guise did the -word come 
 to Shelby. 
 
 "They refuse," he asked. 
 
 "Peremptorily, General." 
 
 "Ah ! And for what reason f 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 69 
 
 "They say it is iiuueeessary," 
 
 "And so, in additiou to nuik mutiny, 
 they woiihl iiistify themselves? Call 
 out the guard !" 
 
 The guard i-amc, Jo. Macey a I its head 
 —twenty deteimitied men, iit tor any 
 Avork a soldier might do. ^^lielby rose 
 up and went with it to whaie the ten 
 mutineers were feasting and singing. 
 They knew what was coming, and their 
 leader — brave even to desperation— laid 
 his hand upon his revolver. There was 
 murder in his eyes— that wicked and 
 want:)n murder which must have been 
 in Sampson's heart when he laid hold of 
 the pillar of the Temple and felt the 
 throes of the crushing edifice as it 
 swayed and toppled, and buried all iu a 
 common ruii). 
 
 Jo. Macey halted liis detachment with- 
 in five feet of the mess fire. He had first 
 whispered to Shelby : 
 
 "When you want me, speak. I shall 
 kill nine of the ten the first broadside." 
 
 It can do no good to write the name 
 of the leader of the mutineers. He 
 sleeps to-day in the golden sandt; of a 
 Souora stream — sleeps, forgiven by all 
 who.se lives he might have given away 
 — given away without cause or griev- 
 ance. When he dared to disobey, either 
 this man or the Expedition had to be 
 sacrificed. Htippily, both were saved. 
 
 Shelby walked into the midst of the 
 mutineers, looking into the eyes of 'all. 
 His voice was very deej) and \^ery 
 grave. 
 
 "Men, go back to your duty. 1 am 
 among you all, an adventurer like your- 
 selves, but 1 have been charged to carry 
 you through to Mexico City in safety, 
 and this I wdl do, so surely as the good 
 God rules the universe. I don't seek to 
 know the cause of this thing. I ask no 
 reason for it, no excuse for it, no regrets 
 nor apologies for it. I only want your 
 soldierly promise to obey." 
 
 No man spoke. The leader mistook 
 the drift of things and tried to advance 
 a^ittle. Shelby stopped liim instantly. 
 
 "Not another word," he almost shout- 
 ed ; "but if within fifteen seconds by 
 the watch you are not in line for duty, 
 
 you shall be shot like the meanest Mexi 
 can dog in all the Empire. Cover these 
 men, Macy, with your carbines." 
 
 Twenty gaping muzzles crept straight 
 the front, waiting. The seconds seem- 
 ed as hours. In that supreme moment 
 of unpitying danger the young muti- 
 neer, if left to himself, would have 
 dared the worst, dying as he luid lived ; 
 but the otlieis could not look full into 
 the face of the grim skeletou and take 
 the venture for a cause so disgracef id. 
 Tbey yielded to the inevitable, and 
 went forth to their duty bearing their 
 leader with them. Thereafter no more 
 faithful and honorable soldiers could be 
 found in the ranks of all the Expedition. 
 
 The column had gone southward from 
 Dolores a long day's journey. The 
 whole earth smelt sweet with spring. 
 In the air \\ as the noise of many wings 
 — on {I'.e trees the purple and pink of 
 many blossoms. Summer lay with inire 
 breast upon all the fields— a queen 
 whose rule had never known an hour of 
 stoi'iu or overtlirow. It was a glorious 
 land filled full of the sun and of the 
 things that love the sun. 
 
 Late one afternoon— tired, hot and 
 dusty— Dick Collins and Ike Berry halt- 
 ed by the wayside for a litrle rest and a 
 little gossip. In violation of orders this 
 thing had been done, and Mars is a jeal- 
 ous and a vengeful god. They tarried 
 long, smoking a bit and talking a Int, 
 and finally fell asleeji, 
 
 A sudden scout of gueuillas awoke 
 the gentlemen, using upon Collins the 
 back of a sabre, and uiion Berry, who 
 was larger and sounder of slumber, tlie 
 butt of a musquetoon. There were six 
 of tliern — swart, soldierly fellows, who 
 wore gilded spuis and Ijedeckcd soinhre- 
 ros. 
 
 " Franca isces, eh!" they muttered vuic 
 to anotlier. 
 
 Berry knew considerable Spanish — 
 Collins not so much. To lie under tt>e 
 imputation of being French was to lie 
 within the shadow of sudden death. 
 Berry tried to keeji away from tlutt. He 
 answered: 
 
 "No, no, Seuors, not Francakces, hut 
 Americanos^ 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 The Mexicans looked at eacli other, 
 and shrugged their shoulders. Berry 
 had revealed to them that he spoke 
 Spanish enough to be dangerous. 
 
 Their pistols were taken from tliem, 
 their carbines, their horses, and what- 
 ever else could be found, includiug a 
 few pieces of silver in Berry's pocket. 
 Then they felt of Collins' pantaloons. 
 It had been so long since they echoed 
 to the jingle of either silver or gold, 
 that even the pockets issued a protest 
 at the imputation. Afterwards, the two 
 men were inarched across the country to 
 a group of adol>e buildings among a 
 range of hills, far enoug'i removed from 
 the route of travel to bs safe from res- 
 cue. They were cast into a filthy room 
 where there was neither bed nor blan- 
 ket, and bade to rest there. Two of the 
 guard, with musquetoons in hand and 
 revolvers at waist, occupied the sauie 
 room. With them, the dirt and the fleas 
 were congenial companions. 
 
 Collins fell a musing. 
 
 "What are you thinking abour, Dick"?" 
 Berry asked. 
 
 "Escape. And you"?" 
 
 "Of something to eat." 
 
 Here was a Hercules who was always 
 hungry. 
 
 A Mexican, in his normal condition, 
 must have drink. A stone ewer of fiery 
 Catalan was brought in, and as the 
 ijigbt deepened, so did their potations. 
 Before midnight the two guards were 
 drunk. An hour later, and one of them 
 was utterly oblivious to all earthly ob- 
 jects. The other amused iiimself by 
 pointing his cocked gun at the Ameri- 
 cans, laughing lovr and savagely when 
 they would endeavor to screen them- 
 selves from his cojuic mirth. 
 
 His drunken comrade was lying on his 
 back, with a scarf around his waist, in 
 which a knife was sticking. 
 
 Collins looked at it until his eyes glit- 
 tered. He found time to whisper to 
 Beiry : 
 
 "You are as strong as an ox. Stand 
 by me when I seize that knife and plunge 
 it in the other Mexican's breast. I may 
 not kill him the first time, and if I do 
 
 not, then gi'apple with him. The second 
 stab shall be more fatal." 
 
 "Unto death," replied Berry. "Make 
 haste." 
 
 For one instant the guard took his 
 eyes from the movements of the Ameri- 
 cans. Collins seized the knife and rose 
 up — stealthy, menacing, terrible. They 
 advanced upon the Mexjcan. He turned 
 as they came across the^room and threw 
 out his gun. Too late. Aiming at the 
 left side, Collins' blow swerved aside, 
 the knife entering just below the breast 
 bone and cutting a dreadful gash. With 
 the spring of a tiger-cat Berry leajjed 
 upon him and hurled him to the floor. 
 Again the knife arose— there was a dull, 
 penetrating thud, a quiver of relaxing 
 limbs, a groan that souudedlikeacurse, 
 and beside thp drunken man there lay 
 another who would never touch Catalan 
 again tliis side eternity. 
 
 Instant flight was entered into. Strip- 
 ping the arms from the living and the 
 dead, the Americans hurried out. They 
 found their horses unguarded ; the 
 wretched village was in unbroken sleep, 
 and not anyvi'here did wakeful or vigi- 
 lant sentinel rise up to question or re- 
 strain. By the noon of the next day 
 they had reported to Shelby, and for 
 many days thereafter a shadow was 
 seen on Collins' face that told of the 
 ilesperate blow struck in the name of 
 self-defence and liberty. After that the 
 two men never straggled again. 
 
 Crosses are common in Mexico. Lift- 
 ing up their peniteutual arms, however, 
 by the wayside, and in forlorn and 
 gloomy places, if the3^ do not affright 
 one, they at least put one to thinking. 
 There where they stand, ghastly and 
 weather-beaten under the sky, and alone 
 with the stars and the night, mui'der 
 has been done. There at the feet of 
 them — in the yellow dust of the road- 
 way—innocent, it may be, and true, and 
 tfko young to die — a dead man has lain 
 with his face in a pool of blood. Some- 
 times flowers adorn the crosses, and 
 votive offerings, and many a rare and 
 quaint conceit to lighten the frown on 
 the face of death, and fashion a few 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 71 
 
 links in the chain of memory that shall 
 make even the dead claim kinship with 
 all the glad and sweet-giowiug things 
 of the wonderful sumiher weatlier. 
 
 Over beyond Dolores Hidalgo, a pleas- 
 ant two-days' journey, there was a high 
 hill that held a castle. On either side of 
 this there were heavy masses of timber. 
 Below the fall of the woodlands a mea- 
 dow stretched itself out, bounded on 
 the hither side by a stream that was 
 limpid and musical. Beyond this 
 stream a broken way began, narrowing^ 
 down at last to a rugged defile, and 
 opening once more into a country fruit- 
 ful as Paradise atd filled as full of the 
 sun. 
 
 Just where the defile broke away from 
 the shade of the great oaks a cross 
 stood whose history had a haunting 
 memory that was sorrowful even in that 
 sinful and sorrowful land. There was 
 a young girl who lived in this castle, 
 very fair for a Mexican and very stead- 
 fast and true. The interval is short be- 
 tween seedtiine and harvest, and she 
 ripened early. In the full glory of her 
 beauty and her womanhood, she was 
 plighted to a young commandante from 
 Dolores, heir of many fertile acres, a sol- 
 dier and an Imperialist. Maybe the 
 wooing was sweet, for what came after 
 had in it enough of bitterness and tears. 
 The girl had a brother who was a guerrilla 
 chief, devoted, first to his profession and 
 next to the fortunes of Juarez. Spies 
 were everywhere, and even from his 
 own household news was carried of the 
 courtship and the approaching mar- 
 riage. 
 
 For days at.d days he watched by the 
 roadside, scanning all faces that hur- 
 ried by, seeking alone for Ihe face that 
 might have beeu told for its happiness. 
 One niglit there was a trampling of 
 horsemen, and a low^ voice singing ten- 
 derly under the moon. The visit had 
 been long, and the parting passionate 
 and pure. Only a little ways with love 
 at his heart and the future 'so near Avith 
 its outstretched hands as to reach up al- 
 most to the marriage-riug. No murmur 
 ran along the lips of the low-iying grasses, 
 
 and no sentinel angel rose up betwixt 
 fate and its victim. His uniform car- 
 ried death in its yellow and gold. Not 
 to his own alone had the fair-haired 
 Austrian brought broken iiearts and 
 stained and sundered marriage- vows. 
 Only the clear, long ring of a sudden 
 musket, and the dead Imperialist lay 
 with his face in the du.<t and his spirit 
 going the dark way all alone. From 
 such an interview why ride to sucli an 
 ending"/ No tenderness availed him, no 
 caress consoled him, no fond farewell 
 gave him staff and script fur the jour- 
 ney. He died wliere the woods and the 
 meadows met — for a love by manhood 
 and faith anointed. 
 
 In the morning there had been lifted 
 up a cross. It was standing there still 
 in the glorious weather. The same 
 flowers were blooming still, the 
 same stream swe))t on by the 
 castle gates, the same splendid sweep of 
 woodland and meadow spread itself cut 
 as Grcd's land loved of the sky — but the 
 gallant Commandante, where was he*? 
 Ask of the masses that the pitying an- 
 gels heard and carried on their wings to 
 "heaven. 
 
 One tall spire, like the mighty stan- 
 dard of a king, arose through the lances 
 of the sunset. San Miguel was in sight, 
 a city bu.ilt upon a hill. Around its for- 
 bidding base the tide of battle had 
 ebbed and flowed, and there had grim 
 old Carterac called out, the cloud of the 
 cannon's smoke and the cloud of his 
 beard white together : 
 
 "My children, the Third kuoAV how-to 
 die. One more victory and one more 
 cross for all of you. Forward !" 
 
 This to the Third Zouaves as they 
 were fixing bayonets otj the crest of a 
 charge with which all the Empire rang. 
 Afterwards, when Carterac was buried, 
 shot foremost in the breach, the natives 
 came to view the grave and turned 
 away wondering what manner of a giant 
 had been interred therein. He had gone 
 but a little way in advance of his chil- 
 dren. What San Miguel had spared 
 Oravelotte finished. Yeiily war has its 
 
72 
 
 SHELBY S EXPteDtTlON TO MEXICO 
 
 patriarchs no less reuoAVued than Is- 
 ra,el's. 
 
 From out the gates of the town, and 
 down the long paven way leading- 
 northward, a gallant regiment came 
 gaily forth to welcome Shelby. 
 The music of the sabres ran 
 through the valley. Pennons floated 
 wide and free, the burnished guns 
 rose and fell in the dim, undulating 
 swing of perfect horsemen, and the rays 
 of the setting sun shone upon the gold 
 of the epaulettes until, as with fire, they 
 blazed in the delicious haze of the even- 
 ing. 
 
 Some paces forward of all the goodly 
 company rode one who looked a soldier. 
 Mark him well. That regiment there is 
 known as the Empress' Own. The arms 
 of Carlota areon the blue of the uni- 
 forms. That silken flag, thougli all un- 
 baptized by blood or battle, was wrought 
 by her gentle hands— hands that wove 
 into the tapestiy of time a warp and 
 woof sadder than aught of a;)y tragedy 
 ever known before in Icing-craft or con- 
 quest. She was standing by a little al- 
 tar in the palace of Che])ultenec on an 
 aftfiruoon in May. The city of Monte- 
 zuma was at lier feet in the delicious 
 sleep of its siesta. 
 
 "Sweai'," she said, putting forth the 
 unfolded standard until the sweep of its 
 heavy fringes canopied the long, lus- 
 trious hair of the Colonel, "sv/ear to be 
 true to king and country. 
 
 The man knelt down. 
 
 "To king, and queen and country," he 
 cried, "while a sword can be diawu or 
 a squadron mustered." 
 
 She smiled upon hiui and gave him 
 her hand as he arose. This he stooped 
 low to kiss, repeating again his oath, 
 and pledging again all a soldier's faith 
 to ihe precious binden laid upon In's 
 honor. 
 
 Look at him once ?r.oreas he rides up 
 from the town through the sunset. At 
 his back i;^ tlie regiment of Carlota, and 
 over this regiment the stainless banner 
 of Carlota is floating. The face is very 
 fair for a Mexican's, and a little Norman 
 in its handsome outlines. Some curls 
 
 were m the lustrous hair — not masculine 
 curls, but royal enough,perhaps,to recall 
 the valorous deeds that were done at 
 Flodden, when from over seas the 
 beautiful Queen of France, beloved of 
 all gallant gentlemen, s?nt to the Scot- 
 tish monarch 
 "A tourquoise lin.a', and glove, 
 And chargert him as her kniglit and love. 
 To ma.roh three mii es on English land, 
 And strike tlJiee strokes with Scottish brand. 
 And hid the hangers of his hand 
 
 In English breezes dance." 
 He gave Shelby cordial greeting and 
 made him w^elcome to San Miguel in the 
 name of the Empire. His eyes, large 
 and penetrating, wore yet a sinister look 
 that marred somewhat the smile that 
 should have ccine not so often to the 
 Iface of a Spaniard. He spoke English 
 well, talked much of New York which 
 he had visited, predicted pc ace andpros- 
 perity to Maximilian and his reign after 
 a few evil days, and bow^d low in sa- 
 lute when he separated. 
 
 That iiian was Col. Leonardo Lopez, the 
 traitor of Queretero,the spy of Escobedo, 
 the wretch wdio sold his flag, tbe coward 
 who betrayed his regiment, the false 
 knigbt who denied his mistr( ss, and the 
 decorated and ennobled thing who gave 
 up his Emi)oror to a dog's death. And 
 the price — thirty thousand dollars in 
 gold. Is it any wonder that his wife 
 forsook him, that his children turned 
 their faces aw ay from him, that the 
 Church refused him asylum, that a 
 righteous soldier of the Liberal cause 
 smote him upon either cheek in pres- 
 ence of an army on parade, and that 
 even the "S'ery la.:£aroin of the sti'eets 
 pointed at him as he passed, and shout- 
 ed in voluble derision : 
 "The Traitor! the Traitor!" 
 And yet did all these things ha,ppen to 
 the haiidsoni'^ horseman who rode tip 
 quietly to thv Expedition in front of 
 San Miguel, and bade it welcome in the 
 name of hospitality and the Empire. 
 
 Gen. Fc'lix Douay helrl San Louis Po- 
 tosi, tlie great granary of Mexico. It 
 was the Isrother of this Douay who, 
 surrounded and abandoned at Weissem- 
 bourg, marched alone and on foot to- 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 73 
 
 ward the enemj, until a Prussian bullet 
 found bis lieart. Older, and calmer, and 
 wiser, perhaps, than his brother, Gen. 
 Felix Douay was the strong rijiht arm of 
 Bazaine and of Maximilian. Past sixty, 
 gray-bearded and gaunt, he knew war 
 as the Indian knows a trail. After 
 assigning quarters to the men, he sent at 
 once for Shelby. 
 
 " You have come among us for an ob- 
 ject," he commenced in perfect English, 
 " and as I am a man of few words, please 
 state <-o me frankly what that object is." 
 
 " To take service under Maximilian," 
 was the prompt reply. 
 
 " What are your facilities for recruit- 
 ing a corps of Americans V 
 
 " So ample, General, that if authority 
 is given me, I can pledge to you the ser- 
 vices of fifty thousand in six months." 
 
 Some other discourse was had between 
 them, and Douay fell to musmg a little. 
 When he was done, he called an aide to 
 his side, wrote a lengthy communica- 
 tion, bade the staff officer take it and 
 ride rapidly to the city of Mexico, re- 
 turning with the same speed when he 
 had received his answer. 
 
 As he extended his hand to Shelby in 
 parting, he said to him : 
 
 " You will remain here until further 
 orders. It may be that there shall be 
 work for your hands sooner than either 
 of us expect." 
 
 Southward from San Louis Potosi, and 
 running far down to the Gulf, even unto 
 Tampico, was a low, level sweep of laud, 
 where marshes abounded and retreats 
 that were almost unknown and well 
 nigh inaccessible. In the fever months, 
 the fatal months of August and Sep- 
 tember, these dismal fens and swamps 
 were alive with guerrillas. Vomito 
 lurked in the lone lagoons, and lassi- 
 tude, emaciation and death peered out 
 from behind every palm tree and cy- 
 press root. Foreigners there were none 
 who could abide that dull greyish ex- 
 halation which wrought for the morn- 
 ing a winding-sheet, and for the French 
 it was not only the valley, but the Val- 
 ley of the Shadow of Death. Bazaine's 
 light troops, his Voltigeurs and his 
 
 lOA 
 
 Chasseurs of Vincennes, hpd penetrated 
 there and died. Most of the Foreign 
 Legion had gone in there and perished. 
 Two battalions of Zouaves— great, 
 bearded, medalled fellows, hronzed by 
 Syrian night winds, and tempered to 
 steel in the sap and seige of Sebastopol 
 —had borne their eagles backward from 
 the mist, famishing because of a fever 
 which came with the morning and the 
 fog. 
 
 No matterhow, the guerrillas fattened. 
 Reptiles need little beside the ooze aud 
 the foetid vegetation of the lowlands, 
 and so when the rains came and the 
 roads grew wearisome and long, they 
 rose upon the convoys night after night, 
 massacreing all that fell into their 
 hands, even the women and the live 
 stock. 
 
 Figueroa was the fell spirit of the 
 marshes— a Mexican past forty-five, 
 one-eyed from the bullet of an Ameri- 
 can's revolver, tall for his race, and so 
 bitter and unrelenticg in his hatred of 
 all foreigners, especially Americans, 
 that when he dies he will be canonized. 
 If in all his life he ever knew an hour of 
 mercy or relenting, no record in story or 
 tradition stands as its monument. 
 Backward across the Eio Grande there 
 have been borne many tales of Esco- 
 bedo and Carabajal, Martinez aud Cor- 
 tina, Lozado the Indian and Rodriguez 
 the renegade priest ; but for deeds of 
 desperate butchery and vengeance, the 
 fame of all of these is as the leaves that 
 fell last Autumn. 
 
 No matter his crimes, however, he 
 fought as few of them do for his native 
 land, and dreaded but two things on 
 earth— Dupin and his Con tie- Guerril- 
 las. Twice they had brought him to 
 bay, and twice he had retired deeper 
 and deeper into his jungles, sacrificing 
 all the flower of his following, and 
 pressed so furiously and fast that at no 
 time thereafter could he turn as a hunt- 
 ed tiger and rend the foremost of his 
 pursuers. 
 
 Figueroa lay close to the high nation- 
 al road running from San Luis Potosi 
 to Tampico, levying such tribute as he 
 
74 
 
 she-ley's expedition to MEXICO ; 
 
 could collect by ni^ht and in a manner 
 that leftnon'on the morrow to demand 
 recompense or reckoning. Because it 
 was a post in possession of the Frencii, 
 it was necessary for Douay to have safe 
 and constant intercourse with Tampico. 
 This was impossible so long as Figue- 
 roa lived in the marshes and got fat on 
 the fog that brought only fever and 
 death to the Frenchman and the for- 
 eigner. Three expeditions had been 
 sent down into the Valley of the Shad- 
 ow of Death and had returned, those 
 that were left of them soldiers no long- 
 er but skeletons whose uniforms served 
 only to make the contrast ghastly. The 
 road was still covered with ambush- 
 ments, and creeping and crawling forms 
 that murdered when they should have 
 slept. 
 
 With the arrival of Shelby a sudden 
 resolution had come to Douay. He 
 meant to give him service in the French 
 army, send him down first to fight the fog 
 and Figueroa, and afterwards— well, the 
 future gives generally but small con- 
 cern to a Frenchman — hut afterwards 
 there could have been no doubt of Dou- 
 ay's good intentions, and of a desire to 
 reward all liberally who did his bidding 
 and who came out of the swamps alive. 
 For permission to do this he had sent 
 forward to consult Bazaine, and had 
 halted Shelby long enough to know the 
 Marshal's wishes. 
 
 The aid-de-camp returned speedily, 
 but he brought with him only a short 
 curt order : 
 
 "Bid the Americans march immedi- 
 ately to Mexico." 
 
 There was no appeal. Douay mar- 
 shalled the expedition, served it 
 with rations and wine, spoke some 
 friendly and soldierly words to all of its 
 offteers, and bade them a pleasant and a 
 prosperous journey. Because he pos- 
 sessed no baton is no reason why he 
 should not have interpreted aright the 
 future, and seen that the auspicious 
 hours were fast hastening away when it 
 would be no longer possible to lecruit 
 an army and attach to the service of 
 Maximilian a powerful corps of Amer- 
 
 icans. Bazaiue had' mistrusted their 
 motives from the first, and had been 
 more than misinformed of their move- 
 ments and their numbers since the ex- 
 pedition had entered the Empire. As 
 for the Emperor his mind had been poi- 
 soned by his Mexican counselors, and 
 he was too busy then with his botany 
 and his butterflies to heed the sullen 
 murmurings of the gathering storm in 
 the North, and to understand all the 
 harsh, indomitable depths of that stoical 
 Indian character which was so soon to 
 rush down from Chihuahua and grati- 
 fy its ferocious appetite in 
 the blood of the uptorn and 
 uprooted dynasty. They laughed at 
 Juarez then, the low, squat Indian, his 
 sinister face scarred with the small pox 
 like Mirabeau's, and his sleuth-hound 
 ways that followed the trail of the Ee- 
 public, though in the scent there was 
 pestilence, and famine, and death. One 
 day the French lines began to contract 
 as a wave that is baffled and broken. 
 The cliff followed up the wave, and 
 mariners like Douay and Jeanningros, 
 looking out from the quarter-deck, saw 
 not only the granite but the substance 
 the granite typified — they saw Juarez 
 and his forty thousand ragged follow- 
 ers, hungry, brutal, speaking all dialects, 
 grasping bright American muskets, 
 having here and there an American of- 
 ficer in uniform, unappeasable, oncom- 
 ing — murderous. Again the waves re- 
 ceded and again there was Juarez. 
 From El Paso to Chihuahua, from Chi- 
 huahua to Matamoras, from Matamoras 
 to Monterey, to Matehuala, to Dolores 
 Hidalgo, to San Miguel, to the very spot 
 on which Douay stood at parting, his 
 bronzed face saddened and his white 
 hair waving in the winds of the sum- 
 mer morning. 
 
 It was no war of his, however. What 
 he was sent to do he did. Others plan- 
 ned. Douay executed. It might have 
 been better if the fair-haired sovereign 
 had thought more and asked more of the 
 gray-haired subject. 
 
 It was on the third day's march from 
 San Luis Potosi that an ambulance 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THI WAR. 
 
 75 
 
 brote down having in its teeping two 
 wounded soldiers of the Expedition. The 
 accident was near the summit of the 
 Madre mountains— an extended range 
 between San Luis Potosi and Penama- 
 son — and within a mile of the village of 
 Sumapetla. The rear guard came with- 
 in without it. In reporting, before be- 
 ing dismissed for the night, Shelby ask- 
 ed the officer of tne ambulance. 
 
 "It is in Sumapetla," the Captain an- 
 swered. 
 
 "And the wounded?" 
 
 "At a house with one attendant." 
 
 His face darkened. The whole Madre 
 range was filled with robbers, and two 
 of his best men, wounded and abandon- 
 ed, were at tbe mercy of the murderers. 
 
 "If a hair of either head is touched," he 
 cried out to the officer, "it will be better 
 that you had never crossed the Rio 
 Grande. What avails all the lessons 
 you have learned of this treacherous and 
 deceitful land, that you should desert 
 comrades in distress, and ride up to tell 
 me the pleasant story of your own ar- 
 rival and safety? Order Kirtley to re- 
 port instantly with twenty men." 
 
 Capt. James B. Kirtley came — a young, 
 smooth-faced, dauntless officer, tried in 
 the front of fifty battles, a veteran and 
 yet a boy. The men had ridden thirty 
 miles that day, but what mattered it*? 
 Had the miles been sixty, the same un- 
 questioned obedience would have been 
 yielded, the same soldierly spirit mani- 
 fested of daring and adventure. 
 
 "Return to Siimapetla," Shelby said, 
 "and find my wounded. Stay with 
 them, wait for them, fight for them, get 
 killed, if needs be, for them, but what- 
 ever you do, bring or send them back to 
 me. I shall wait for you a day and a 
 night." 
 
 A pale-faced man, with his eyes 
 drooping and his form bent, rode up to 
 Shelby. He plucked him by the sleeve 
 and pleaded : 
 
 "General, let me go too. 1 did not 
 think when I left them. I can fight. 
 Try me. General. Tell Kirtley to take 
 me. It is a little thing I am asking of 
 you, but I have followed you for four 
 
 years, and I think, small as it is, it will 
 save me." 
 
 All Shelby's face lit up with a pity 
 and tenderness that was absolutely win- 
 ning. He grasped his ijoor, tried sol- 
 dier's hand, and spoke to him low and 
 softly : 
 
 "Go, and come back again. I was 
 harsh, I know, and over cruel, but be- 
 tween us two there is neither cloud nor 
 shadow of feeling. I do forgive you 
 from my soul." 
 
 There were tears in the man's eyes as 
 he rode away, and a heart beneath his 
 uniform that was worth a diadem. 
 
 It was ten long miles to Sumapetla, 
 and the night had fallen. The long, 
 swinging trot that Kirtley struck would 
 carry him there in tw^o hours ai 
 furtherest, and if needs be, the trot 
 would grow into a gallop. 
 
 He rode'along his. ranks' and spoke to 
 his men: 
 
 "Keep quiet, be ready, be load- 
 ed. You heard the ,;,,orders. I ? shall 
 obey them or be even beyond the need 
 of the ambulance we have been seat 
 back to succor." 
 
 Sumapetla was reached in safety. It 
 was a miserable squalid village, filled 
 full of Indians, and beggars, and dogs. 
 In the largest house the wounded men 
 were found — not well cared for, but 
 comfortable from pain. Their attend- 
 ant, a blacksmith, was busy with the 
 broken ambulance. 
 
 Kirtley threw forward picquets and 
 set about seeking for supper. While 
 active in its preparation a sudden vol- 
 ley came from the front— keen, dogged, 
 vicious. From the roar of the guns 
 Kirtley knew that his men had fired at 
 close range and altogether. It was a 
 clear night yet still quite dark in the 
 mountains. Directly a picquet rode ra- 
 pidly up, not the least excited yet very 
 positive. 
 
 "There is a large body in front of us 
 and well armed. They tried a surprise 
 and lost five. We did not think it well 
 to charge, and I have come back for or- 
 ders. Please say what they are quick. 
 
76 
 
 Shelby's expedition to Mexico ; 
 
 for the boys may need me before I can 
 reach them agaiu." 
 
 This was the volunteer who had com- 
 manded the rear guard of the day's 
 march. 
 
 Skirmishing shots now broke out om- 
 inously. There were fifteen men in the 
 village and five on outpost. 
 
 "Mount, all," cried Kirtley, "and fol- 
 low me." 
 
 The relief took tlie road at a gallop. 
 
 The space between the robbei's and 
 their prey was scarcely large enough 
 for Kirtley to array his men upon. From 
 all sides there came the steady roar of 
 musketry, telling how complete the am- 
 buscade, and how serviceable the guns. 
 Some fifty paces in the rear of the out- 
 post the road made a sudden turo, leav- 
 ing at the apex of the acute angle a 
 broken, zig-zag piece of rock-work capa- 
 ble of much sturdy defence, and not 
 flanked without a rush and a moment or 
 two of desperate in-fi-hting that is 
 rarely the choice of the guerrillas. This 
 Kiitley had noticed with the eye of a 
 soldier and the qvdckness of a man who 
 meant to do a soldier's duty first and q. 
 comrade's duty afterwards. Because 
 ths wounded men had to be saved, was 
 no reason why those who were unwound- 
 ed should be sacrificed. 
 
 He fell back to the rocky ledge lacing 
 the robbers. Word sent to the black- 
 smith in the village to hurry, to make 
 rapid and zealous haste, for the danger 
 was pressing and dire, got for answer in 
 return : 
 
 "Captain Kirtley, I am doing my best. 
 A Mexican's blacksmith-shop is an anvil 
 without a hammer, a forge without a 
 bellows, a wheel without its felloes; and 
 I have to make, instead of one thing, a 
 dozen things. It wiil be two hours be- 
 fore the ambulance is mended." 
 
 Very laconic and very true. Kirtley 
 never thought a second time, during all 
 the long two hours, of the smithy in the 
 village, and tlie swart, patient smith 
 who, within full sound of the struggling 
 musketry, wrought and delved and 
 listened now and then in the intervals 
 ot his toil to the rising and falling of 
 
 the fight, laughing, perhaps low to him- 
 self, as his practiced ear caught the 
 various volleys, and knew that neither 
 backward nor forward did the Ameri- 
 cans recede nor advance a stone's throw. 
 
 The low reach of rock, holding fast 
 to the roots of the trees that grew up 
 from it, and bristling with rugged and 
 stunted shrubs, transformed itself into 
 a citadel. The road ran by it like an 
 arm that encircles a waist. Where the 
 elbow was the Americans stood at bay. 
 They had dismounted and led their 
 horses still further to the rear — far 
 enough to be safe, yet near at hand. 
 From the unknown it was impossible to 
 tell what spectres might issue forth. 
 The robbers held on. From the volume 
 of fire their numbers were known as 
 two bundled — desperate odds, but it 
 was night, and the nighc is always in 
 league with the weakest. 
 
 Disposed among the rocks, about the 
 roots and the trunks of the trees, the 
 Americans fired in skirmishing order 
 and at will. Three rapid and persistent 
 times the rush of the guerrillas came as 
 a great wave upon the little handful, a 
 lurid wreath of light all along its front, 
 and a noise that was appalling iu the 
 darkness. Nothing so terrifies as the 
 oscillation and the roar of a hurricane 
 that is invisible. Hard by the road, 
 Kirtley kept his grasp upon the rock. 
 Nothing shook that— nothing shook the 
 tension of its grim endurance. 
 
 The last volley beat full into the faces 
 of all. A soldier fell forward in the 
 darkness. 
 
 "Who's hurt V and the clear voice of 
 Kirtley rang out without a tremor. 
 
 "It's me, Jim ; it's Walker. Hard hit 
 in the showlder ; but thank God for the 
 breech loj^aer, a fellow can load and fire 
 with one sound arm left." 
 
 Bleeding thro;igh the few rags stuffed 
 into the wound, and faint from much 
 weakness and riain, Walker mounted 
 again to his post and fought on till the 
 struggle was ended. 
 
 Time passed, but lengthily. Nine of 
 the twenty were wounded, all slightly, 
 however, save Walker— thanks to the 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 77 
 
 dartness and the ledee that seemed 
 planted there by a Providence that 
 meant to succor steadfast courage and 
 devotion. The ambulance was done and 
 the wounded were placed therein. 
 
 "It can travel but slowly in the night," 
 said Kirtley, to William Fell, who had 
 stood by his side through all the bitter 
 battle, "and we must paralyze pursuit a 
 little." 
 
 "Paralyze it— howf 
 
 "By a sudden blow, such as a prize- 
 fighter gives when he strikes below the 
 belt. By a charge some good hundred 
 paces in the midst of them." 
 
 Fell answered lacunically : 
 
 "Desperate but reasonable. I have 
 seen sucli things done. Will it take 
 long V 
 
 "Twenty minutes all told, and there 
 will be but eleven of us. The nine who 
 are wounded must go back." 
 
 The horses w^re brought and mount- 
 ed. Walker could scarcely sit in his 
 saddle. As he rode to the rear, two of 
 his comrades supported him. The part- 
 ing was ominous — the living, perhaps, 
 taking leave of the dead. 
 
 Fair into the night and the unknown 
 the desperate venture held its way. 
 Two deep the handful darted out from 
 behind the barricade, firing at the in- 
 visible. Spectre answered spectre, 
 and only the ringing of the revolvers 
 was real. The impetus of the charge 
 was such that the line of the robbers' 
 fire was passed before, reined up 
 and countermarching, the forlorn hope 
 could recede as a wave that carried the 
 undertow. The reckless gallop bore its 
 planted fruit. Back through the pass 
 unharmed the men rode, and on by the 
 ledge, and into Sumapetla. No pursuit 
 came after. The fire of the guerrillas 
 ceased ere the charge had been spent, 
 and when the morning came there was 
 the camp, and a thousand blessings for 
 the bold young leader who had held his 
 own so well, and kept his faith as he had 
 kept the fort on its perch among the 
 mountains. 
 
 It was a large city set upon a hill that 
 loomed up through the mists of the 
 
 evening — a city seen from afar and mu- 
 sical with many vesper bells. Peace 
 stood in the rank's of the sentinel corn, 
 and fed with the cattle that browsed by 
 the streams m the meadows. Peace 
 came on the wings of the twilight and 
 peopled the grasses with songs that 
 soothed, and many toned voices that 
 made for the earth a symphony. Days 
 of short parade and longer merry- 
 making dawned for the happy soldiery. 
 The sweet, unbroken south wind brought 
 no dust of battle from the palms and 
 the orange blossoms by the sea. Couriers 
 came and went, and told of peace 
 throughout the realm— of robber bands 
 surrendering to the law— of railroads 
 planned and parks adorned— of colonists 
 arriving and foreign ships in all the 
 ports — of roads made safe for travel, and 
 public virtue placed at premium in the 
 market lists — of prophecies that bright- 
 ened all the future, and to the Empire 
 promised an Augustan age. The night 
 and the sky were at peace as the city 
 grew larger and larger on its hill; and a 
 silence came to the ranks of the Espedi- ^ 
 tion that was not broken until the camp 
 became a bivouac with the goddess 
 of plenty to make men sing of fealty 
 and obeisance. 
 
 It was the City or Quaretero. 
 
 Yonder ruined convent, its gateway 
 crumbling to decay, its fountains strewn 
 with bits of broken shrubs and flowers, 
 held the sleeping Emperor the night the 
 traitor Lopez surrendered all to an In- 
 dian vengeance and compassion. When 
 that Emperor awoke he had been dream- 
 ing. Was it of Miramar and " poor Car- 
 lota f 
 
 The convent was afc peace then, and 
 the fountains were all at play. Two 
 bearded Zouaves stood in its open door, 
 looking out curiously upon the serried 
 ranks of the Americans as they rode 
 slowly by. 
 
 Yonder on the left where a hill arises 
 the capture was made — yonder the Aus- 
 trian cried out in the agony of this last 
 desertion and betrayal : 
 
 " Is there then no bullet for me V 
 
 Later, when the bullets found his 
 
78 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 heart, they found an image there that 
 entered with his spirit into heaven — the 
 image of " Poor Cailota." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Quite a large concentration of Ameri- 
 cans had taken place in the City of 
 Mexico, Many of these were penniless 
 — all of them were soldiers. As long as 
 they believed in the luck, or the fortune, 
 or the good destiny of Shelby — and that, 
 being a born soldier, the Empire must 
 needs'see and recognize those qualities 
 which even his enemies had described 
 as magnificent — they were content to 
 wait for Shelby's arrival, living no man 
 knew how, hungry always, sometimes 
 sad, frequently in want of a roll or a 
 bed — but turning ever their faces fair to 
 the sunrise, saying, it may be a little re- 
 proachfully, to the sun: "What hast 
 thou in store for us this day, oh ! 
 Kingf 
 
 Maximilian was like a man who had a 
 desperate race before him, and who had 
 started out to win it. The pace in the be- 
 ginning was therefore terrible. So firm 
 was the stride, so tense were the mus- 
 cles, so far in tlie rear were all competi- 
 tors, that opposition had well-nigh 
 abandoned the contest and resistance 
 had become so enfeebled as to be al- 
 most an absolute mockery. 
 
 In the noonday of the struggle a halt 
 was had. There were so many sweet 
 and odorous tlowers, so many nights 
 that were almost divine, so much of 
 shade, and luxury and ease, so much of 
 music by the wayside, and so manA- 
 hands that were held out to him for the 
 grasping, that the young Austrian — 
 schooled in the luxuries of literature 
 and the pursuits of science — sat himself 
 down just when the need was sorest, 
 and smokod, and dreamed, and plan- 
 ned, and wrote, and — died. 
 
 Maximilian was never a soldier. Per- 
 haps he was no statesman as well. Most 
 certainly all the elements of a politi- 
 cian were wanting in his character, 
 which was singularly sweet, trust- 
 ing and affectionate. To sign a 
 death warrant gave him nights of soli- 
 
 tude and remorse. Alone with his con- 
 fessor he would beseech in prayer the 
 merciful God to show to him that mercy 
 he had denied to others. On the eve of 
 an execution he had been known to iiee 
 from his capital as if pursued by some 
 horrible nightmare. He could not kill, 
 when, to reign as a foreigner, it was 
 necessary to kill, as said William the 
 Conqueror, until the balance ||is about 
 even between those who came over with 
 you and those whom you found upon 
 your arrival. 
 
 The Emperor had given shelter to 
 some honored and august Americans. 
 Commodore M. F. Maury, who had pre- 
 ceded the Expedition, and who had 
 brought his great fame and his trans- 
 cendent abilities to the support of the 
 Empire, had been made the Imperial 
 Commissioner of Immigration. Enter- 
 ing at once upon an energetic discharge 
 of his duties, he had secured a large and 
 valuable grant of land near the city of 
 Cordova, which, even as early as Sep- 
 tember, 1865, was being rapidly survey- 
 ed and opened up for cultivation. Agents 
 of colonization had been sent to the Uni- 
 ted States, and reports were constantly 
 being received of their cordial and 
 sometimes enthusiastic reception by the 
 people from New Orleans to Dubuque, 
 Iowa, and from New York westward to 
 San Antonio, Texas. There was a world 
 of people ready to emigrate. One 
 in five , of all the thousands 
 would have been a swart, strapping 
 fellow, fit for any service but best for 
 the service of a soldier. 
 
 Therefore, when these things w^ere 
 told to Shelby, riding down from the 
 highlands about Queretero to the low- 
 lands about Mexico, he rubbed his hands 
 as one who feels a steady flame by the 
 bivouac-fire of a winter's night, and 
 spoke out gleefully to Langhorne : 
 
 "We can get forty thousand and take 
 our pick. Young men for war, and only 
 young men emigrate. This Commodore 
 Maury seems to sail as well upon the 
 land as upon the water. It appears to me 
 that we shall soon see the sky again. 
 What do you say. Captain ?" 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 79 
 
 Langliorne answered him laconically : 
 
 "The French are not friendly— that is 
 to say, they want no soldiers from 
 amon": us. You will not be permitted 
 to recruit even so much as a front and a 
 rear rank; and if this is what you mean 
 by seeing the sky, then the sky is as far 
 away as ever." 
 
 It was not long before the sequel 
 proved which of the two was right. 
 
 Gen. John B. Magruder, who had also 
 preceded the Expedition, and who had 
 known Marshal Bazaine well in the 
 Crimea, was commissioned Surveyor 
 General of the Empire through French 
 influence, and assigned to duty with 
 Commodore Maury. He had spoken 
 twice to the Marshal in behalf of Shel- 
 by, and spoken frankly and boldly at 
 that. He got in reply what Jeannin- 
 gros had got, and Depreuil, and Douay, 
 and all of them. He got this senten- 
 tious order : 
 
 "Bid Shelby march immediately to 
 Mexico." 
 
 Gen. Preston, who through much peril 
 and imminent risk by night and day, 
 had penetrated to the Capital, even 
 from Piedras Negras, had begged 
 and pleaded for permission to 
 retirrn with such authority vouchsafed 
 to Shelby as would enable him to recruit 
 his corps. Preston fared like the rest. 
 For answer he also got the order : 
 
 "Bid Shelby march immediately to 
 Mexico." 
 
 And so he marched on into the glori- 
 ous land between Queretero and the 
 Capital, and into the glorious weather, 
 no guerrillas now to keep watch against 
 — no robbers anywhere about the hills 
 or the fords. The French were every- 
 where in the sunshine. Their picquets 
 were upon all the roads. The villages 
 contained their cantonments. There 
 was peace and prosperity and a great 
 rest among all the people. The women 
 laughed in the glad land, and the voices 
 of many children told of peaceful days 
 and of the fatness of the field and the 
 vine — of the streams that ran to the 
 sea, and uplands green with leaf or gray 
 with ripening grain. 
 
 Ma;;^be Fate rests its head upon its 
 two hands at times, and tliinks of what 
 little things it shall employ to make or 
 mar a character — save or lose a life — 
 banish beyond the light or enter into 
 and possess forevermore a Paradise. 
 
 The march was running by meadow 
 and river, and the swelling of billowy 
 wheat, and great groves of orange trees 
 wherein the sunshine hid itself at noon 
 with the breeze and the mocking birds. 
 
 It was far into the evening that John 
 Thrailkill sat by the fire of his mess, 
 smoking and telling brave stories of the 
 brave days that were dead. Others 
 were grouped about in dreaming indo- 
 lence or silent fancy — thinking, it may 
 be, of the northern land with its pines 
 and firs — of great rolling waves of 
 prairie and plain, of forests where cab- 
 ins were and white-haired children all 
 at play. 
 
 Thrailkill was a guerrilla who never 
 slept— that is to say, who never knew 
 the length or breadth of a bed from 
 Sumpter to Appomattox. Some woman 
 in Platte county had made him a little 
 black flag, under which he fought. This, 
 worked in the crown of his hat, satisfied 
 him with his loyalty to his lady-love. 
 In addition to all this, he was one among 
 the best pistol shots in a command 
 where all were excellent. 
 
 Perhaps neither before nor since the 
 circumstance here related, has anything 
 so quaint m recklessness or bravado 
 been recorded this side the Crusades. 
 Thrailkill talked much, but then he had 
 fought much, and fighting men love to 
 talk now and then. Some border story 
 of broil or battle, wherein, at desperate 
 odds, he had done a desperate deed, 
 came uppermost as the night deepened, 
 and the quaint and scarred guerrilla was 
 over-generous in the share he took of 
 the killing and the plunder. 
 
 A comrade by his side— Anthony West 
 — doubted the story and ridiculed its 
 narration. Thrailkill was not swift to 
 anger for one so thoroughly reckless, 
 but on this night he arose, every hair in 
 his bushy beard bristling. 
 
 "You disbelieve me, it seems," 
 
8o 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 he said, bending over the other 
 nntil he could look into his 
 eyes, "and for the skeptic there is 
 only the logic of a blow. Is this real, 
 and this ?" and Thrailkill smote West 
 twice in the face with his open hand — 
 once on either cheek. No insult could 
 be more studied, open and unpardon- 
 able. 
 
 Comrades interfered, instantly, or 
 there would have been bloodshed in the 
 heart of the camp and by the flames of 
 the bivouac fire. Each was very cool — 
 each knew what the morrow would 
 bring forth, without a miracle. 
 
 The camp was within easy reach of a 
 town that was more of a village 
 than a town. It had a church and 
 a priest, and a regular Don 
 of an Alcalde who owned leagues 
 of arable land and two hundred game 
 cocks besides. For Shelby's especial 
 amusement a huge main was organized, 
 and a general invitation given to all 
 who desired to attend. 
 
 The contest was to begin at noon. 
 Before the sun had risen, Capt. James 
 H. Gillette came to Thrailkill who was 
 wrapped up in his blankets, and said to 
 him: 
 
 "I have a message for you." 
 
 "It is not long, I hope." 
 
 "Not very long, but very plain." 
 
 "Yes, yes, they are all alike. I have 
 seen such before. Wait for me a few 
 minutes." 
 
 Thrailkill found Isaac Berry, and 
 Berry m turn soon found Gillette. 
 
 The note was a challenge, brief and 
 peremptory. Some conferences followed, 
 and the terms were agreed upon. These 
 were savage enough for an Indian. 
 Colt's pistols, dragoon size, were the 
 weapons, but only one of them was to 
 be loaded. The other, empty in every 
 chamber, was to be placed alongside the 
 loaded one. Than a blanket was to 
 cover both, leaving the butt of eacii ex- 
 posed. He who won the toss was 
 to make the first selection and 
 Thrailkill won. The loaded 
 
 and the unloaded pistol lay hidden be- 
 neath a blanket, the two handles so 
 
 nearly alike that there was no appreci- 
 able difference. Thrailkill walked up to 
 the tent, whistling a tune. West stood 
 behind him, watching with a face that 
 was set as a flint. The first drew, cast 
 his eyes along the cylinder, saw that it 
 was loaded, and smiled. The last drew 
 — every chamber was empty. Death 
 was his portion as absolutely and as cer- 
 tainly as if death already stood by his 
 side. Yet he made no sign other than 
 to look up to the sky. Was it to be his 
 last look ■? 
 
 The terms were ferocious, yet neither 
 second had protested against them. It 
 seemed as if one man was to murder 
 another because one had been lucky in 
 the toss of a silver dollar. As the case 
 stood, Thrailkill had the right to fire 
 six sJiots at West before West had the 
 right to crrasp even so much as a loaded 
 pistol— and Thrailkill was known for 
 his deadly skill throughout the ranks of 
 the whole Expedition. 
 
 The two were to meet just at sunset, 
 and the great cock main was at noon. 
 To this each principal went,andeach sec- 
 ond,and before the main was over the life 
 of a man stood as absolutely upon the 
 prowess of a bird as the Spring and its 
 leaves upon the rain and the sunshine. 
 
 And thus it came about: 
 
 In Mexico cock-fighting is a national 
 recreation — perhaps it is a national bless- 
 ing as well. Men engage in it when 
 they would be robbing else, and way- 
 laying couriers bearing specie, and 
 haunting the mountain gorges until the 
 heavy trains of merchandise entered 
 slowly m to be swallowed up. 
 
 The priests fight there, and the fatter 
 the padre the finer his chicken. From 
 the prayer-book to the pit is an easy 
 transition, and no matter the aves so 
 only the odds are in favor of the church . 
 It is upon the Sundays that all the 
 pitched battles begin. After the matin 
 bells the matches. When it is vespers, 
 for some there has been a stricken and 
 for some a victorious field, No matter r 
 again— for all there is absolution. 
 
 The Alcalde of the town of Linares 
 was a jolly, good-conditioned Mexican 
 
AN UNWKITTEN LEAF OF TllK WAK. 
 
 8l 
 
 who knevy a bit ot English, picked up 
 in California, and who liked the Ameri- 
 ean.s but for two things— tlieir hard 
 drinking and their hard swearing. Find- 
 ing any ignorant of these accomplish- 
 ments, there flowed never any more for 
 them a stream of friendship from the 
 Alcalde's fountain, It became dry as 
 suddenly as a spring in the desert. 
 
 Shelby won his heart by sending him 
 a case of elegant cognac — a present 
 from Douaj' — and therefore was the 
 main improvised which was to begin at 
 noon. 
 
 The pit was a great circle in the midst 
 of a series of seats that arose the one 
 above the other. Over the entrance — 
 which was a gateway opening like the 
 lids of a book — was a chair of state — an 
 official seat occupied by the Alcalde. 
 Beside Mm sat a bugler in uniform. At 
 the beginning aud tlie end of a battle 
 this bugler, watching the gestures of 
 tlie Alcalde, blew triumphant or peni- 
 rential strains accordingly as the Al- 
 calde's favorite lost or won. As the 
 main progressed the notes of gladness 
 outnumbered those of sorrow. 
 
 A born cavalryman is always suspi- 
 cious. He looks askance at the woods, 
 the fences, the ponds, the morning fogs, 
 the road that forks and crosses, and 
 the road that runs into the rear of a hal- 
 ted column, or into either flank at rest 
 in bivouac. It tries one's nerves so to 
 fumble at uncertain girths in the dark- 
 ness, a rain of bullets pouring down at 
 the outposts and no slielter anywhere 
 for a long week's marching. 
 
 And never at any time did Shelby put 
 aught of faith in Mexican friendship, or 
 aught of trust in Mexican welcome and 
 politeness. His guard was perpetual, 
 and his intercourse like his marching, 
 was always in skirmishing order. Hence 
 one-half the forces of the Expedition 
 were required to remain in camp under 
 arms, prepared for any emergency, 
 while the other half, free of restraint, 
 could accept the Alcalde's invitation or 
 not as they saw fit. The most of them 
 attended. With the crowd went Thrail- 
 kill and West, Gillette aud Berry. All 
 
 llA 
 
 the village was there. The pit had no 
 caste. Benevolent priests mingled with 
 their congregations and bet their pesos 
 on their favorites. Lords of many herds 
 and acres, and mighty men of the coun- 
 try round about, the Dons of the hacien- 
 das pulled ott" their hats to the peons and 
 staked their gold against the greasy sil- 
 ver palm to palm. Fair senoritas shot 
 furtive glances along the ranks of the 
 soldiers— glances that lingered long up- 
 on the Saxon outline of their faces and 
 retreated only when to tlie light of curi- 
 osity there had been added that of un- 
 mistakable admiration. 
 
 The bugle sounded and the weighing 
 began. The sport was new to many of 
 the spectators — to a few it was a sealed 
 book. Twenty-five cocks were match- 
 ed— all magnificent birds, not 
 so large as those fought in America 
 but as pure in game aud as rich in plu- 
 mage. There, too, the fighting is more 
 deadly, that is to say, it is more rapid 
 and fatal. The heels used have been 
 almost thrown aside here. In the north 
 and west absolutely— in New Orleans 
 very nearly so. These heels, wrought of 
 the most perfect steel and carved like 
 a scimetar, have an edge almost exquis- 
 ite in its keenness. They cut asunder 
 like a sword-blade. Failing in instant 
 death, they inflict mortal wounds. Be- 
 fore there is mutilation there is murder. 
 
 To the savage reality of combat there 
 was added the atoning insincerities of 
 music. These diverted the drama of its 
 premeditation, and gave to it an air of 
 surprise that, in the light of an accom- 
 modating conscience, passed unchal- 
 lenged for innocence. In Mexico the 
 natives rarely ask questions— the strang- 
 ers never. 
 
 Shelby seated himself by the side of 
 the Alcalde, the first five or six notes of 
 a charge were sounded aud the battle 
 began. Thereafter with varying for- 
 tunes it ebbed and flowed through all 
 the long afternoon. Aroused into in- 
 stant championship, the Americans es- 
 poused the side of this or that bird, and 
 lost or won as the fates decreed. There 
 was but scant gold among them, all count- 
 
S3 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 ed,lbut twentydollars or twenty thousand, 
 it would have been the same. A nation 
 of born gamblers, it needed not a cock 
 tight to briug- all the old national traits 
 uppermost. A dozen or more were on 
 the eve of wagering their carbines and 
 revolvers, when a sign from Shelby 
 checked the uu soldierly impulse and 
 brought them back instantly to a reali- 
 zation of duty. 
 
 Thrailkill had lost heavily— that is to 
 say every dollar he owned on earth. 
 West had won without cessation- 
 won in spite of his judgment, which 
 was often adverse to the wagers 
 lie laid. In this, maybe, Fate 
 was but flattering him. Of what use 
 would all his ,vinnings be after the 
 sunset ? 
 
 It'was the eighteenth battle, and a 
 maguificeut cock was brought forth who 
 had the crest of an eagle and the eye of 
 a basilisk. More sonorous than the bu- 
 gle, his voice had blended war and mel- 
 ody in it. The glossy ebony of his 
 plumage needed only the sunlight to 
 make it a mirror where courage might 
 have arrayed itself. In an instant he 
 was everybody's favorite— in his favor 
 all the odds were laid. Some few clus- 
 tered about his antagonist— among them 
 a sturdy old priest who did what he 
 could to stem the tide rising in favor of 
 the bird of the beautiful plumage. 
 
 Infatuated like the rest, Thrailkill 
 would have staked a crowu upon the 
 combat; he did not have even so much 
 as one real. The man was miserable. 
 Once he walked to the door and looked 
 out. If at that time he had gone forth, 
 the life of West would liave gone with 
 him, but he did not go. As he returned 
 he met Gillette, who spoke to him: 
 
 "You do not bet, and the battle is 
 about to begin." 
 
 "I do not bet because I have not won. 
 The pitcher that goes eternally to a 
 well is certain to be broken at last." 
 
 "And yet you are fortunatie." 
 
 Thrailkill shrugged Ins shoulders and 
 looked at his watch. It wanted an hour 
 yet of the sunset. The tempter still 
 tempted him. 
 
 "You have no money, then. Would 
 you like to borrow f 
 
 "No." 
 
 Gillette mused awhile. They were 
 tieing on the last blades, and the old 
 priest had cried out: 
 
 "A doubloon to a doubloon against 
 the black cock !" 
 
 Thrailkill's eyes glistened. Gillette 
 took him by the arm. He spoke rapid- 
 ly, but so low and distinct that every 
 word was a thrust : 
 
 "You do not want to kill West— the 
 terms are murderous — you have been 
 soldiers together — you can take tlie 
 priest's bet— here is the money. But." 
 and he looked him fair in the face, "if 
 you win you pay me — if you lose I 
 have absolute disposal of your fire." 
 
 "Ah !" and tlie guerrilla straightened 
 himself up all of a sudden, "what would 
 you do with my fire f 
 
 "Keep your hands clean from inno- 
 cent blood, John Thrailkill. Is not that 
 enough f 
 
 The money was accepted, the wager 
 with the priest was laid, and the battle 
 began. When it was over the beautiful 
 black cock lay dead on tlie sands of the 
 arena, slain by the sweep of one teriific 
 blow, while over him, in pitiless defi- 
 ance, his antagonist, dun in plumage 
 and ragged in crest and feather, stood a 
 victor, conscious of his triumph and his 
 prowess. 
 
 The sun was setting, and two men 
 stood face to face in the glow of the 
 crimsoning sky. On either flank of 
 them a second took his place, a look of 
 sorrow on the bold bronze face of Berry, 
 the light of anticipation in the watchful 
 eyes of the calm Gillette. Well kept, 
 indeed, had been the secret of the 
 tragedy. The group who stood 
 alone on the golden edge of the 
 evening were all who knew the 
 ways and the means of the work be- 
 fore them. West took his place as a 
 man who had shaken hands with life 
 and knew how to die. Thrailkill had 
 never been merciful, and this day of all 
 days were the chances dead against a 
 moment of pity or forgiveness. 
 
AN UNVVaiTTEN' LEAK OF TilE WAR. 
 
 Tiio gioauil was ii little patch ot: 
 uia.ss l)csi<le a stream, having- trees in 
 the rear of it, and trees over biiyoiid the 
 reach of tiie waters riinaiii^^ iiiiisically 
 to the sea. In the distance there were 
 Iiouses from which i)eacefid smoke as- 
 cended, Through the hnze of the ^a,- 
 tlieriug' twilight the sorind of bells came 
 from the homeward-pioihliuii' herds,and 
 I'rom the fields the haiyi>y voices of the 
 reapers. 
 
 West stood full front to his adversary 
 —certain of death. He expected noth- 
 iniu: l)eyond a quick and a speedy bullet 
 —one Vv'hich would kill without iufiict- 
 iug needless pain. 
 
 The word was given. Thrailkill threw 
 Ilia pistol out, covered his autagoiiiet 
 once fairly, looked once into his eyes, 
 and saw that they did not quail, and 
 then, with a motion as instantaneous as 
 it was unexpected, lifted it up overhead 
 and lired in the air. 
 
 Gfillette had won his wager. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The city of all men's hopes and fears 
 and aspirations — the city of the swart 
 cavaliers of Cortez and the naked Avar- 
 r'iors of Montezuma, who rushed with 
 l>are bosom on lance and sword-blade — 
 the city under tfie shadow of the old- 
 world Huasco— that volcano, it may be, 
 that was in its youth wlien Ararat bore 
 aloft the Ark as a propitiation to the 
 God alike of the rainbow and the deluge 
 — and that when the floods sui)sided 
 sent its lava waves to the Pacific Ocean 
 — the city which had seen the cold glit- 
 ter of Northern steel flash along the 
 l)roken way of Conteras, ami wind itself 
 up, striped thick with biooii, into the 
 Iieart of Chepultepec— the city filled now 
 with Austrians, and Belgians, and 
 Frenchmen, and an Emperor newly 
 crowned with n)tinhood and valor, and 
 an Empress, royal with an imperial 
 youth and beauty — the city of Mexico 
 was reached at last. 
 
 For many the long march was about 
 to end— for others to begin again — 
 longer, drearier, sterner than any march 
 
 (;ver yet taken for king or eountry— the 
 march down into the Valley ofethe Sha- 
 dow, and over beyond the Kiver and in- 
 to the unknown and eternal. 
 
 Marshal JJazaine was a soldier who 
 had seen service; in Algeriii, in the Cri- 
 mea.in Italy--especially at l\Iagenta--and 
 he had vt'on the baton at last in Mexico, 
 that baton the First Napoleon declared 
 might l)e in the knapsack of every sol- 
 dier. The character of the man was a 
 study some studen t of history may love 
 to stumble upon in the future. Past 
 fifty, white-haired where there was hair, 
 bald over the foreliead as one sees al! 
 Frenchmen who have served in Algeria, 
 he made a fine figure on hoisebacik, be- 
 cause from the Avaist up his body was 
 long, lithe and perfectly trained; but 
 not such a fine figure (m foot, because 
 the proportion was illy preserved be- 
 tween the two extremities. He was am- 
 bitious', brave to utter recklessness, 
 crafty yet outspoken and fiank, a sav- 
 age ar'stocrat who had married a fail- 
 faced Spaniard and a million, merciless 
 in discipline, beloved of his troops, 
 adored by liis military family, a gam- 
 bler who had been known to win a thou- 
 sand ounces on a single card, a specula- 
 tor and the owner of ships, a husband 
 whom even the French called true, a fa- 
 ther anda Judge wiio,after lie had caress- 
 ed his infant, voted death at tiie court- 
 martial so often that one officer Ix;- 
 gan to say to another : 
 
 "He shoots them all," 
 
 Bazaine was a skillfid soldier. As 
 long as it was war with Juarez, he kept 
 Juarez starving and running- some- 
 times across the Rio Grande into Texas, 
 where the Federals fed him, jsud some- 
 times in the mountains about El Paso, 
 never despondent, it is true, yet never 
 well-filled in eitlier commissariat or car- 
 tridge-box. After the visit of Gen. 
 Castelneau, an aid-de-canip of Napole- 
 on, and the reception of positive orders 
 of evacuation, the Marshal let the Lib- 
 erals have pretty much their own way, 
 so that they neither iujurcd nor inter- 
 rupted the French soldiers coming and 
 going about the country at will. As the 
 
H 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 Freuch waves receded the w.ives of tlie 
 Juaiistas advanced. Bazaiae sold them 
 cannon, and nuiskets, and much ammu- 
 nition, it is said, and even sei!?e guns 
 with which to halter down the very 
 walls of Maxin)ilian's palace itself. 
 Those who have accused him of this 
 have slandered and abused the man. He 
 may have known mucli of many things 
 — of ingratitude not one heart-throb. 
 Not his the aggravation of evacuation, 
 the sudden rending asunder of the whole 
 frame-work of Imperial society, the 
 great fear that fell upon all, the patriot- 
 ic uprisings that had infection and ju- 
 bilee in them, the massacre of Mexicans 
 who had favored the Austrian, the 
 breaking up of all schemes for emigra- 
 tion and colonization, and the ending of 
 a day that was to bring the cold, long 
 night of Queretero. 
 
 Rudolph, Emperor of Germany, who 
 was born in 1318, and who was the son 
 of Albert IV., Count of Hnpsburg, was 
 the founder of tbat family to which 
 Maximilian belonged. In 1382, Rudolph 
 placed his son Albert on the throne of 
 Austria, and thus begins the history of 
 that house which has swayed the des- 
 tinies of a large portion of Europe for 
 nearly eight hundred years, a house 
 which, through many terrible struggles, 
 has gained and lost and fought on and 
 ruled on, sometimes wisely and some- 
 times not, yet ever ruling in the name 
 of divine right and of tiie House of 
 Hapsburg. 
 
 Through the force of marriage, pur- 
 chase and inheritance the State of Aus- 
 tria grew in extent beyond that of any 
 other in the German Empire. In 1359, 
 Rudolph IV. assumed the title of Arch- 
 duke Palatine, and in 1363, his reign 
 was made notorious by the valuable ac- 
 quisition of the Tyrol. This was tlie 
 commencement of the history of the 
 Archdukes, who were thereafter as- 
 signed to the high position of Em- 
 peror, the first taken from among 
 them being Alfred II., who was chosen 
 in 1438. The marriage of the bold, un- 
 scrupulous and ambitious Maximilian I., 
 at the age of eighteen, to Mary, daugh- 
 
 ter of Charles the Bold, Duke of Bur- 
 gundy, in 1477, added to Austria's terri- 
 torial claim largely, and embraced FUiii- 
 ders, Frauchc Comte, and all the Low 
 Countries. In 1531, Ferdinand I. mar- 
 ried Ann, sister of Louis, King of Hun- 
 gary and Bohemia, who was killed at 
 the battle of Mohaez, in 1536, his em])ire 
 being absorbed and incorporated with 
 Austria. Upon the events of the lif- 
 teenth century, Charles V. left an im- 
 mortal impress, and the blood of this 
 great Emperor was in the veins of Max- 
 imilian of Mexico. 
 
 In 1618, Europe, alarmed at the in- 
 creasing territorial aggrandizement of 
 Austria, and torn by feuds between 
 Protestants and Catholics, saw the com- 
 mencement of the thirty years' war. It 
 terminated in the treaty of Westphalia iji 
 164S,whicli accomplisedthe independence 
 of the German States. In 1713, Austria 
 gained the Italian Provinces by the treaty 
 of Utrecht, and in 1730, the last male 
 of the House of Hapsburg, Charles II., 
 died, the succession falling upon his 
 daughter, Maria Theresa. She was suc- 
 ceeded by her son Joseph II., and in 
 1793, at the age of 33, Francis II. suc- 
 ceeded his father, Leopold II., a ikI be- 
 came Emperor of Germany, King ol 
 Bohemia, Hungary, etc. His reign was 
 unusually stormy, and in three cam- 
 paigns against the Freuch, he lost much 
 of his territory and was foiced into the 
 unfortunate treaty of Presburg. In 
 1804, he assumed the title of Francis I., 
 Emperor of Austria, and in 1806, yielded 
 up that of Emperor of Germany. Thus, 
 through an unbroken line, male and fe- 
 male, did the House of Hapsburg hold 
 the title of Emperor of Germany from 
 1437 to 1806. Maria Louisa, the daughter 
 of this Francis, was married to the great 
 Napoleon in 1810, and in 1813 her father 
 was in arms agaiust France, and in the 
 alliance with Rassia, Prussia and Eng- 
 land. In 1815 he had regained much of 
 his lost territory, and had succeeded in 
 cementing more firmly than ever the 
 contending elements of the Austrian 
 Empire. 
 
 Francis I. died jn 1835, leaving the 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 Sk 
 
 tluone to his sou Ferdinand I., avIio, in 
 consequence of tlie political revolntiou 
 of 1848, the fatia;uc of state affairs, and a 
 wretched condition of health, abdicated 
 lu the same year, in favor of liis brother, 
 Archduke Fi'ancis Charles, who, on the 
 same day, transferred his vight to the 
 throne to liis eklest sou, the preseut Em- 
 peror, wlio was declared of age at eigh- 
 teen. Hungaiy refused to recognize 
 the new lu on arch, and constituted a 
 Republic under Kossuth, April 14th, 
 1849. Bloody aud short-lived, the Re- 
 ]>ublic was conquered and crushed un- 
 der the feet of the Cossack and the 
 ('roat. 
 
 And in such guise is this history given 
 of one wlio, inheriting many of the 
 splendid virtues of his race, was to in- 
 lierit some of its sorrows aud tragedies 
 as well. 
 
 Feidinand Maximilian, Emperor of 
 Mexico, was born in the palace of Schon- 
 hrun, near Vienna, on the 10th day of 
 .lu.ly, A. D. 1833. He was the second son 
 of Francis Charles, Archduke of Aus- 
 trio, aud of the Archducess Frederica 
 Sophia. His eldest brother was Francis 
 •Joseph T., the preseut Emperor of the 
 Austrian Empire. Two younger brothers 
 embraced the family — and among the 
 whole there was a tenderness and affec- 
 tion so true and so rare in statecraft 
 tijat in remarking it to the mother of 
 the princes. Marshal McMahon is re- 
 ported to have said : 
 
 " Madam, these are young men such 
 as you seldom see, and princes such as 
 you never see." 
 
 In height Maximilian was six feet two 
 inches. His eyes were blue and pene- 
 trating, a little sad at times and often 
 introspective. Perhaps never in all his 
 life had there ever come to them a look 
 of craft or cruelty. His forehead was 
 broad and high, prominent where ideal- 
 ity shouid abound, wanting a little in 
 hrmness, it: phrenology is true, yet 
 compact enough and well enough pro- 
 portioned to indicate resources in re- 
 serve and abilities latent and easily 
 aroused. To a large mouth was given 
 the Hapsburg lip, that thick, protruding 
 
 semi-deft uuder-li)), too heavy for 
 beauty, too iuunobile for features tliat, 
 vxnder the iron destiny tliat ruled the 
 hour, sliould have suggested Caesar oi- 
 Napoleon. A gieat yellow beard fell in 
 a wave to liis waist. At times this was 
 parted at tlie chin, and descended in 
 two separate streams, as it were, sillder, 
 glossier, heavier than any yellow beard 
 of any yellow-haired Hun or Hungarian 
 that had followed him from the Rhine 
 and the Danube. 
 
 He said pleasant and courtly things in 
 German, in English, Hungarian, Slav- 
 onic, French, Italian and Spanish. In 
 natural kindness of temper, aud in ele- 
 gance aird refiuemeut of deportment, 
 he surpassed all who surrounded hnn 
 and all with whom he came in contact. 
 Noblemen of great learning and cosmo- 
 politan reputation were his teacliers. 
 Prince Esteraze taught him the 
 Hungarian language ; Count de 
 Schnyder taught him mathematics ; 
 Thomas Zerman taught him naval tac- 
 tics and the Italian language. A splen- 
 did horseman, he excelled also in ath- 
 letic sports. With the broadsword or 
 the rapier, few men could break down 
 his guard or touch him with the steel's 
 point. 
 
 At the age of sixteen he visited 
 Grreece, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Madeira 
 and Africa. He was a poet who wrote 
 sonnets that were set to music, a botan- 
 ist, a book-maker, the captain of a frig- 
 ate, an admiral. He did not love to see 
 men die. All his nature was tenderly 
 human. He loved flowers, and music, 
 and statuary, and the repose of the 
 home circle and the fireside. He had a 
 palace called Miramar which was a 
 paradise. Here the messengers found 
 him Avhen they came bearing in their 
 hands the crown of Mexico— a gentle, 
 lovable prince— adored by the Italians 
 over whom he had ruled, the friend of 
 the third Napoleon, a possible heir to 
 the throne of Austria, a chivalrous, ele- 
 gant, polished gentleman. 
 
 How he died the world knows— be- 
 trayed, butchered, shot by a dead wall 
 thinking of Carlotta. 
 
S6 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 France never tliorouglily understood 
 ,the war between the States. Up to the 
 evacuation of Richmond by Lee, Louis 
 Napoleon believed religiously in the 
 success of the Southern Confederacy. 
 An alliance otFeusive and defensive with 
 President Davis was proposed to him by 
 Minister Slide]], an alliance whicli guar- 
 anteed to him the absolute ])ossession of 
 Mexico and the undisturbed erection of 
 an empire witliiu its borders. For this 
 ]]e was asked to raise the blockade at 
 Charleston and New Orleans, and furn- 
 ish for offensive operations a corps of 
 seventy-five thousand French soldiers. 
 He declined the alliance because he be- 
 lieved it unnecessary. Of what used to 
 hasten a result, he argued, which in tlie 
 end would be inevitable. 
 
 After Appomattox Court House he 
 awoke to something like a realization of 
 the drama in which he was the cliief 
 actor. The French nation clamored 
 against the occupation. Its cost was enor- 
 mous in blood and treasure. America, 
 sullen and vicious, and victor in a gi- 
 gantic war, looked aci'ossthe Rio Grande 
 with her hand upon lier sword. 
 Diplomacy could do nothing against 
 a million of men in arms. It 
 is probably that in this supreme 
 moment Mr. Seward revenged on France 
 The degradation forced upon Mm by the 
 Trent affair, and used language so plain 
 to the Imperial minister that all ideas 
 of further foothold or aggrandizement 
 in the new world were abandoned at 
 once and for ever. 
 
 When Shelby arrived in Mexico tlie 
 situation was peculiar. Ostensibly Em- 
 peror, Maximilian had scarcely anymore 
 I'eal authority than the Grand Chamber- 
 lain of his houseliold. Bazaine was the 
 military autocrat. The mints, the mines 
 and the custom houses were in his pos- 
 session. His soldiers occupied all the 
 ports where exporting and importing 
 were done. Divided first into military 
 departments, and next into civil depart- 
 ments, a French general, or colonel, or 
 officer of the line of some grade, com- 
 manded each of the first, and an Impe- 
 rial Mexican of some kind, generally 
 
 half Juaristaand half robber, command- 
 ed each of tlie last. For their allies the 
 French had a mcist supreme and sove- 
 reign contempt — a contempt as natural 
 as it was undisguised. Conflicts, there- 
 fore, necessarily occurred. Civil law, 
 even in sections where civil law might 
 have been made beneficial, rarely ever 
 lifted its bead above the barricade of 
 bayonets, and its officers— finding tlie 
 French supreme in everything, especi- 
 ally in their contempt — surrenderecl 
 wliatever of dignity or official apprecia- 
 tion belonged to them, and without re- 
 signing or resisting, were content to 
 plunder their fiieuds or traffic with the 
 enemy. 
 
 Perhaps France had a reason or two 
 for dealing thus harshly with the civil 
 administration of affairs. Maximilian 
 was one of the most unsuspecting and 
 confiding of men. He actually believed 
 in Mexican faith and devc=ti(!r! — i;; such 
 things as Mexican j_)iioriotism .a-iid love 
 of peace and order. He would listen 
 to their promises and become enthusias- 
 tic; to their plans and grow convinced; 
 to their oaths and their pledges, and take 
 no thought for to-morrow, when the 
 oaths were to become false and the 
 pledges violated. France wished to 
 arouse him from his unnatural dream of 
 trusting goodness and gentleness, and 
 put in lieu of the fatal narcotic more of 
 iron and blood, 
 
 France had indeed scattered lives 
 freely in Mexico. At first 'England and 
 Spain had joined with France in an in- 
 vasion f(n- certain feasible and specified 
 purposes, none of which purposes, how- 
 ever, were to establish an empire, en- 
 throne a foreign prince, support him by 
 a foreign army, seize possession of the 
 whole Mexican 'country, govern it as 
 part of the royal possessions, make of 
 it in time, probably, a great menace, but 
 certain— whatever the future might be- 
 to ruffle the feathers pretty roughly 
 upon that winged relation of tlie great 
 American eagle, the Monroe Doctrine. 
 
 Before the occupation, however, Mex- 
 ico was divided into two parties — tliat 
 of the Liberals, led by Juarez, and that 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF TJHE WAR 
 
 87 
 
 of the Church, its political management 
 in the hands of the Archbishop, its mil- 
 itary management in the hands of Mir- 
 amon. Comonfort, an Utopian dreamer 
 and Socialist, yet a Liberal for all that, 
 lenounced the Presidency in I808. 
 Thereupon the capital of the nation was 
 seized by the Church party, Miramon at 
 its head, and much wrong- was done to 
 foreigners— so much wrong, indeed, 
 tliat from it the alliance sprung that 
 was to sow all over the country a terri- 
 ble crop of armed men. 
 
 In 1861, England, France and Spain 
 united to demand from Mexico the pay- 
 ment of all claims owed by her, and to 
 demajud still further and stronger some 
 absolute guarantee against future mur- 
 ders and spoliations. 
 
 England's demands were based upon 
 tike assertion that on the 16th day of 
 November, 1860, Miramon unlawfully 
 took from English residents one hun- 
 dred and tifty thousand pounds sterling. 
 This money was in the house of the 
 British Legation. The house was at- 
 tacked, stoned, llred into, some of its 
 domestics killed and Avounded, and the 
 Minister himself saved with difficulty. 
 Afterwards, at Tacubaya, an outlying 
 village of tlie capital, seventy-three 
 Englishmen were brutally murdered — 
 shot at midnight in a ditch, and to ap- 
 pease, it is thought, a moment of savage 
 superstition and cruelty. To this day it 
 is not known even in Mexico why Mir- 
 amon gave his consent to this horrid 
 butchery. In other portions of the 
 country, and indeed in every portion of 
 it where there were Englishmen, they 
 were insulted with impunity, robbed of 
 their possessions, often imprisoned, 
 sometimes murdered, and frequently 
 driven forth penniless from among their 
 tormentors. 
 
 A treaty had been made in Paris, in 
 18o9, between Spain and the Chui'ch 
 party, which provided for the payment 
 of the Spanish claims. This treaty was 
 aunulled when Juarez came into power, 
 and the refusal was peremptory to pay a 
 single dollar to Spain. The somewhat 
 novel declaration was also made that 
 
 the Republic of Mexico owed to its own 
 citizens about as much as it could pay, 
 and that when discriminations had to be 
 made they should be made against the 
 foreigner. Spain became furiously indig- 
 nant, and joined in with England in the 
 alliance. 
 
 France had also her grievances. A 
 Swiss banker named Jecker, who had 
 been living in Mexico a few years prior 
 to the expedition of the three great 
 powers, had made a fortune higli up 
 among the millions. Mirauiou looked 
 upon Jecker with awe and admiration, 
 and from friends the two men soon be- 
 came to be partners. A decree was is- 
 sued by Miramon on the 39th of Octo- 
 ber, 1859, providing for the issuance of 
 three millions pounds sterling in bonds. 
 These bonds were to be taken for taxes 
 and import duties, were to bear six per 
 cent, interest, and were to have the in- 
 terest paid for five years by the house 
 of Jecker. As this was considerably 
 above the average life of the average 
 Mexican government, Miramon felt 
 safe in taking no thought of the inter- 
 est after Jecker had paid for the first 
 five years. Certain regulations also 
 provided that the holders of these 
 bonds might transfer them and receive 
 in their stead Jecker's bonds, paying a 
 certain percentage for the privilege of 
 the transfer. Jecker was to issue the 
 bonds and to receive five per cent, on 
 the issue. He did not, however, con- 
 summate the arrangement as the pro- 
 visions of the decree required, and at 
 his own suggestion the contract was 
 modified. At last the result narrowed 
 itself down to this : the Church party 
 stood bound for three millions seven 
 hundred and twenty thousand pounds 
 sterling, aud Jecker found himself in a 
 position where it was impossible to 
 comply with his contract. In May, 1860, 
 his house suspended payment. His 
 creditors got the bonds, the Church par- 
 ty gave place to the Liberal pai tj , and 
 then a general repudiation came. This 
 party refused to acknowledge any debt 
 based upon tlie Miramou-Jecker trans- 
 action, just it had refused to cany out 
 
88 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 the stipulations of a sovereign treaty 
 made witli Spain. 
 
 The most of Jecker's creditors were 
 Frenchmen, and France resolved to col- 
 lect not only this debt, but claims to 
 the amount of twelve millions of dollars 
 besides. Failing to obtain a peaceful 
 settlement, late in the year 1860, the 
 French Minister left the Capital after 
 this significant speech : 
 
 "If there shall be a war between us it 
 shall be a war of destruction." 
 
 And it was. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The three complaining powers— Eng- 
 land, France and Spain met in Lon- 
 don, October, 1861, and agreed that 
 each should send upon the Expedition an 
 equal naval force, and that the number 
 of troops to be furnished by each should 
 be regulated according to the number 
 of subjects which the respective powers 
 had in Mexico. It was further expres- 
 sed and stipulated that the intervention 
 should only be for the purpose of en- 
 forcing the payment of the claims as- 
 sumed to be due, and that in no particu- 
 lar was any movement to be made look- 
 ing to an occupation of the country. 
 England, however, was dissatisfied with 
 a portion of France's claim, and Spain 
 coincided with England. Notwith- 
 standing this fact, however, a joint fleet 
 was sent to Vera Cruz, which reached 
 its destination January 6th, 1863. On 
 the 7th, six thousand three hundred 
 Spanish, two thousand eight hundred 
 French, and eight hundred English 
 troops wers disembarked, and by a 
 treaty made with Juarez at Soledad, 
 and signed February 19th, 1862, these 
 troops were permitted to leave the fever 
 marshes about Vera Cruz, and march 
 to the glorious regions about Orizava. 
 
 Orizava, on the National Road mid- 
 way between Cordova and Puebla, is a 
 city whose climate and whose surround- 
 ings might recall to any mind the Gard- 
 en of Eden. Its skies are always blue, 
 its air is always balmy, its women are 
 always beautiful, its fruit is always 
 
 ripe, and its sweet repose but rarely 
 broken by the clamor of marauding 
 bands, or the graver Avarfare of more 
 ferocious revolutionists. 
 
 To admit the strangevs into such a 
 land, sick from the tossings of the 
 sea, and weak from the poison of 
 the low lagoons, was worse for Juarez 
 than a pitched battle wherein the vic- 
 tory rested with the invaders. Some of 
 them at least would lay hands upon it 
 for its beauty alone, if other and more 
 plausible reasons could not be found. 
 At an early day, however, the ambitious 
 designs of Napoleon began to manifest 
 themselves. There were some protests 
 made, some sharp correspondence had, 
 not a few diplomatic quarrels indulged 
 in, and at last, to cut a knot they could 
 not untie, the English and Spanish 
 troops were ordered back peremptorily 
 to Vera Cruz, the two nations abandon 
 ing the alliance, and withdrawing their 
 forces entirely from the country. This 
 left the French alone and unsupported. 
 The treaty of Soledad expired, and 
 they were ordered by Juarez to 
 return to their original position. For 
 answer there was an immediate attack. 
 
 The city of Puebla, ninety miles north 
 from Orizava, strong by nature, had 
 been still more strongly fortified, and 
 was held by a garrison of twenty thou- 
 sand Liberals, under the command of 
 Saragosa, an ardent and impassioned 
 young Mexican, as brave as he was 
 patriotic. Gen. Lorencez, who com- 
 manded the French, without waiting 
 for reinforcements, and being destitute 
 of a siege train, dashed his two thousand 
 soldiers against the ramparts of Puebla, 
 and had them shattered and repulsed. 
 The battle lasted a whole day through, 
 and thrice the Third Zouaves passed the 
 ditch, and thrice they were driven back. 
 At night! all a retreat was had, and after 
 sore marching and fighting Lorencez 
 regained Oiizava, fortifying in turn, and 
 waiting as best he could for succor from 
 France. 
 
 It came speedily in the shape of Gen. 
 Forey and twelve thousand men. 
 Puebla was besieged and captured, and 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OP THE WAR. 
 
 89 
 
 without further resistance aud without 
 waiting? to give Juarez time to 
 repair his losses, lie hurried on to the 
 City of Mexico, meeting everywhere an 
 enthusiastic reception from the Imperi- 
 al Mexicans who believed that the work 
 of subjugation had been finished. 
 
 What the French do is generally done 
 quickly. On the 17th of May, 1863, Pu- 
 ebla surrendered; on the 13th of May 
 Juarez evacuated the Capital; on the 
 10th of June the French took possession, 
 and on the 16th Gen. Forey issued a de- 
 cree for the formation of a orovisional 
 government. This new government as- 
 sembled with great solemnity on the 
 25th of June. On the 2d of July they 
 published an edict containing a list of 
 two hundred and fifteen persons who 
 were declared to constitute the Assem- 
 bly of Notables, intrusted with the du- 
 ty of providing a plan for a permanent 
 government. On the 8th of July this 
 body was installed in the presence of 
 the French Commander-in-chief, and 
 Count Dubois de Saligny, Minister 
 Plenipotentiary of France. A commit- 
 tee was next appointed to draft a form 
 of government, and on the 10th this 
 committee submitted their plan to the 
 Assembly, which was unanimously 
 adopted. 
 
 These were its chief points: 
 
 1st— The Mexican Nation adopts for 
 Its form of government a limited, hered- 
 itary monarchy, with a Catholic Prince. 
 
 2d— The Sovereign will take the title 
 of Emperor of Mexico. 
 
 3d— The Imperial Crown of Mexico is 
 offered to His Imperial Highness, Prince 
 Ferdinand Maximilian, Archduke of 
 Austria, for him and his descendants. 
 
 4th — In case of any circumstances, im- 
 possible to foresee, the Archduke Fer- 
 dinand Maximilian should not take pos- 
 session of the throne which is offered 
 him, the Mexican nation submits to the 
 benevolence of Napoleon III., Emperor 
 of the French, to indicate to her another 
 Catholic Prince. 
 
 And thus was that government crea- 
 ted which was so soon to set in misery 
 and tears. 
 
 12A 
 
 It is not generally known, but it is 
 true, however, that as early as October 
 30th, 18G1, Maximilian was offered the 
 throne of Mexico and declined it. While 
 expressing himself extremely grateful 
 for the confidence reposed in his wis- 
 dom and moderation, and for the many 
 sentiments of respect embraced in the 
 letter containing the offer, he declared 
 that he would first have to be assured of 
 the will and co-operation of the coun- 
 try. And even when the French had 
 conquered and occupied every impor- 
 tant place in the Empire, and after the 
 Assembly of Notables had created a 
 government and sent its deputation to 
 notify Maximilian of his unanimous 
 election as Emperor, he still lingered as if 
 unwilling to tempt the unknown. Did 
 some good angel come to him in dreams 
 and whisper of the future 1 Who 
 knows ? Me at least deserved such 
 heavenly visit. 
 
 After he had accepted the second offer 
 of the throne, and before his departure 
 from Miramar, Maximilian sent a spe- 
 cial messenger to Mexico bearing a com- 
 munication to Juarez, which was written 
 by Baron de Pont, his counsellor. It 
 was dated Bellevue Hotel, Brussels, 
 March 16th, 1864, and contained proposi^ 
 tions to the effect that Maximilian did 
 not wish to force himself upon the Mex- 
 icans by the aid of foreign troops, 
 against the will of the people ; that ho 
 did not wish to change or make for 
 them any political system of govern- 
 ment contrary to an express wish of a 
 majority of the Mexicans ; that he 
 wished the bearer of the letter to say to 
 President J aarez, that he, Maximilian, 
 was willing to meet President Juarez in 
 any convenient place, on Mexican soil, 
 which President Juarez might desig- 
 nate, for the purpose of discussing the 
 affairs of Mexico, in an amicable man- 
 ner; and that doubtless an under- 
 standing and conclusion might be 
 reached wholly in unison with the will 
 of the people. 
 
 The gentleman bearing the letter 
 went to Mexico, saw President Juarez, 
 stated his mission, and gave him a copy 
 
9© 
 
 SHBLBY's expedition to MEXICO ; 
 
 of the communication. The President 
 coolly answered that he could not con- 
 sent to any meeting with Maximilian. 
 
 This was in March. In April, 1864, 
 the newly chosen Emperor sailed" away 
 from Trieste —from his beautiful home 
 by the blue Mediterraneau — from the 
 Old World with its luxury and its art— 
 from a thousand memories fresh with 
 the dawn of youth and sparklinj? iu the 
 sunshine of happiness—from the broad 
 segis of an Empire whose monarch he 
 might have been— from a proud fleet 
 created and made formidable by his 
 genius — from the tombs of liis ancestors 
 and the graves of his kindred— and for 
 what"? To attempt an impossible thing. 
 Instead of a civilized and Christian 
 monarch, the Mexicans needed mission- 
 aries. Instead of the graces and virtues 
 of European culture and education, the 
 barbarians required grape-shot and can- 
 ister. Instead of plans for all kinds of 
 improvements — for works of usefulness 
 and adornment— the destroying vandals 
 could be happy only with a despotism 
 and the simple austerity of martial law. 
 Poor Austrian and poor Emperor! At- 
 tempting to rule through justice and 
 compassion, he seemed never to have 
 known that for the work of regenera- 
 tion he needed one hundred thousand 
 foreign soldiers. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the enthusi- 
 asm with which Maximilian and liis 
 beautiful Empress were greeted when 
 they landed at Vera Cruz. Indeed, 
 Irom the sea to the great lakes about 
 the capital, it was an ovation such as 
 one seldom sees in a country where all 
 is treachery, stolidity, brutality and ig- 
 norance. The fires of a joyous welcome 
 that were lit at Vera Cruz blazed all 
 along the route, and flared up like a 
 conflagration in Paso del Macho, iu 
 Cordova, in Puebla, smoking yet from 
 the terrible bombardment, and on the 
 lone mountain Rio Frio— where, looking 
 away to the north, they, for the first 
 time, might have almost seen the great 
 cathedral spire of Mexico looming up 
 through the mist— that hoary and august 
 pile,, as old as Cortez, and bearing high 
 
 up, under the image of a saint, Monte- 
 zuma's sacrificial stone, having yet upon 
 it the blood of the foreigner. 
 
 The omen was unheeded. 
 
 When Shelby arrived in Mexico, Max- 
 imilian had been reigning over a year. 
 The French held all the country that 
 was worth holding— certainly all the 
 cities, the large towns, the mining dis- 
 tricts, and the sea-ports. Besides the 
 French troops, the Emperor had in his 
 service a corps of Imperial Mexicans, 
 and a small body of Austrian and Bel- 
 gian auxiliaries. The first was capable 
 of infinite augmentation, but they were 
 uncertain, unreliable, and apt at any 
 time to desert in a body to the Liberals. 
 The last were slowly wasting away — 
 being worn out as it were by sickness 
 and severe attrition. The treasury was 
 empty. Brigandage, a plant of indig- 
 enous growth, still flourished and grew 
 luxuriantly outside every garrisoned 
 town or city. The French could not 
 root it up, although the French shot 
 everything upon which they got their 
 hands that looked a little wild or start- 
 led. No matter for a trial. The order 
 of an officer v*'as as good as a decree 
 from Bazaine. Thousands were thus 
 offered up as a propitiation to the god of 
 good order— many of them innocent- 
 all of them shot without a hearing. 
 
 This displeased the Emjjeror greatly. 
 His heart was really with his Mexicans, 
 and he sorrowed over a fusilade for a 
 whole week through. At times he re- 
 monstrated vigorously with Bazaine, but 
 the impurturbable Marshal listened pa- 
 tiently and signed the death warrants as 
 fast as they were presented. These futile 
 discussions at last ended in an estrange- 
 ment, and while Maximilian was Em- ^ 
 peror in name, Bazaine was Emperor in 
 reality. 
 
 With a soldier's quickness and power 
 of analysis, Shelby saw and understood 
 all these things and treasured them up 
 against the day of interview. This was 
 speedily arranged by Commodore Maury 
 and Gen. Magruder. Maximilian met 
 him without ceremony and with great 
 sincerity and frankness. Marshal Ba- 
 
AN UNWRlTTExV LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 9' 
 
 zaine was present. Count de None, the 
 son-in-law of Gen. Harney, and the 
 chief of Bazaine's civil staff, was the in- 
 terpreter. The Emperor, while under- 
 standing English, yet preferred to con- 
 verse in French, and to hold all his in- 
 tercourse with the Americans in that 
 language. 
 
 Shelby laid his plans before him at 
 once. These were to take immediate 
 service in his Empire, recruit a 
 corps of forty thousand Americans, 
 supercede as far as possible the 
 native troops lii his army, consoli- 
 date the government against the time of 
 the withdrawal of the French soldiers, 
 encourage emigration in every possible 
 manner, develop the resources of the 
 country, and hold it, until the people 
 became reconciled to the change, with 
 a strong and well organized army. 
 
 Every proposition was faithfully ren- 
 dered to the Emperor, who merely bow- 
 ed and inclined his head forward as if 
 he would hear more. 
 
 Shelby continued, in his straightfor- 
 ward, soldierly manner : 
 
 "It is only a question of time, Your 
 Majesty, before the French soldiers are 
 withdrawn." 
 
 Marshal Bazaine smiled a little sar- 
 castically, it seemed, but said nothing. 
 
 "Why do you think so ?" inquired the 
 Emperor. 
 
 "Becaujie the war between the States 
 is at an end, and Mr. Seward will in- 
 sist on the rigorous enforcement of the 
 Monroe Doctrine. France does not de- 
 sire a conflict with the United States. 
 It would neither be popular nor profita- 
 ble. I left behind me a million men in 
 arms, not one of whom has yet been 
 discharged from the service. The na- 
 tion is sore over this occupation, and 
 the presence of the French is a perpet- 
 ual menace. I hope Your Majesty will 
 pardon me, but in order to speak the 
 truth it is necessary to speak plainly." 
 
 "Go on," said the Emperor, greatly 
 interested. 
 
 "The matter whereof I have spoken 
 to you is perfectly feasible. I have au- 
 
 thority for saying that the American 
 government would not be adverse to 
 the enlistment of as many soldiers in 
 your army as might wish to take 
 service, and the number need only bo 
 limited by the exigencies of the Em- 
 pire. Thrown upon your own resources, 
 you would find no difficulty, I think, in 
 establishing the most friendly relations 
 with the United States. In order to pat 
 yourself in a position to do this, and in 
 order to sustain yourself sufficiently 
 long to consolidate your occupation of 
 Mexico and make your government a 
 strong one, I think it absolutely neces- 
 sary that you should have a corps of 
 foreign soldiers devoted to you person- 
 ally, and reliable in any emergency." 
 
 On being appealed to, Commodore 
 Maury and Gen. Magruder sustained 
 his view of the case and Shelby contin- 
 ued : 
 
 "I have under my command at pres- 
 ent about one thousand tried and expe- 
 rienced troops. All of them have seen 
 much severe and actual service, and all 
 of them are anxious to enlist in support 
 of the Empire. With your permission, 
 and authorized in your name to increase 
 my forces, and in a few months all the 
 promises given here to-day could be 
 made good." 
 
 The Emperor still remained silent. It 
 appeared as if Shelby was an enigma he 
 was trying to make out;— one which in- 
 terested him at the same time that it 
 puzzled him. In the habit of having 
 full and free conversations with Com- 
 modore Maury, and of reposing in him 
 the most unlimited confidence, he would 
 look first at Shelby and then at Maury, 
 as if appealing from the blunt frank- 
 ness of the one to the polished sincerity 
 and known sound judgment of the 
 other. Perhaps Marshal Bazaine knew 
 better than any man at the interview 
 how keenly incisive had been Shelby's 
 analysis of the situation ; and how ab- 
 solutely certain were events, neither he 
 nor his master could control, to push the 
 last of his soldiers beyond the ocean. 
 At intervals, the calm, immobile face 
 would flush a little, and once or twice 
 
92 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 he folded and unfolded a printed des- 
 patch held in his hands. Beyond these 
 evidences of attention, it was not known 
 that Bazaine was even listening. His 
 own judgment was strongly in favor of 
 the employment of the Americans, and 
 had the bargain been left to him, the 
 bargain would have been made before 
 the end of the interview. He was a 
 soldier, and reasoned from a soldier's 
 standpoint. Maximilian was a Christian 
 ruler, and shrank within himself, all his 
 nature in revolt, when the talk was of 
 bloodshed and provinces held by the 
 bayonet. His mind was convinced from 
 the first that Shelby's policy was the 
 best for him, and he leant to it as to 
 something he desired near 1dm for sup- 
 port when the crisis came. He did not 
 embrace it, however, and make it part 
 and parcel of his heart and his affec- 
 tions. Therein began the descent that 
 ended only at Queretaro, After the 
 French left he had scarcely so much as 
 a bundle of reeds to rest upon. Tliose 
 of his Austrians and Belgians spared by 
 pestilence and war died about him in 
 dogged and desperate desjair. They 
 did not care to die, only they knew they 
 could do no good, and as Lieutenant 
 Karnak said, when speaking for all the 
 little handful, they saw the end plainer, 
 perhaps, than any removed yet a stone's 
 throw further from the finale. 
 
 "This last charge will be soon over, 
 boys, and there won't be many of us 
 killed, because there are so few of us 
 to kill; but" — and he whispered it while 
 the bugles were blowing— "although we 
 die for our Emperor to-day, he will die 
 for us to-morrow." 
 
 When the rally sounded Karnak's 
 squadron of seventy came back with six. 
 Karnak was not among them. 
 
 The Emperor did not reply directly to 
 Shelby. He rose up, beckoned De None 
 to one side, spoke to him quietly and 
 earnestly for some brief moments, dis- 
 missed his visitors pleasantly and with- 
 drew. His mind, however, it appears, 
 had been made up from the first. He 
 was not willing to trust the Americans 
 in an organization bo large ancj ^q cpm- 
 
 plete— an organization composed of forty 
 thousand skilled and veteran soldiers, 
 commanded by ofiicers of known valor, 
 and anxious for any enterprise, no mat- 
 ter how daring or desperate. Besides, 
 he had other plans in view. 
 
 As De Noue passed out he spoke to 
 Shelby: 
 
 "It's no use. The Emperor is firm on 
 the point of diplomacy. He means to 
 try negotiation and correspondence with 
 the United States. He thinks Mr. Sew- 
 ard is favorably disposed toward him, 
 and that the spirit of the dominant party 
 will not be adverse to his experiment 
 with the Mexicans. His sole desire is to 
 give them a good government, lenient 
 yet restraioing laws, and to develop the 
 country and educate the peoi)le. He be- 
 lieves that he can do this with native 
 troops, and that it will be greatly to the 
 interest of the American govercment to 
 recognize him, and to cultivate with him 
 the most friendly relations. At any 
 rate," and De Noue lowered his voice— 
 "at any rate. His Majesty is an enthusi- 
 ast, and you know that an enthusiast 
 reasons ever from the heart instead of 
 the head. He will not succeed. He 
 does not understand the people over 
 whom he rules, nor any of the dangers 
 which beset him. You know he once 
 governed in Lombardy and Venitia, 
 when they were Austrian provinces, and 
 he made so many friends there for a 
 young prince that he might well supi)ose 
 he had some divine right to reign suc- 
 cessfully. There is no similarity, how- 
 ever, between the two positions. A 
 powerful army was behind him when he 
 was in Italy, and a singularly ferocious 
 campaign, wherein the old Austrian 
 Marshal lladetsky manifested all the 
 fire and vigor of his youth, had 
 crushed Italian resistance to the earth. 
 It was the season for the physician and 
 the peace-maker, and the Emperor came 
 in with his salves and his healing oint- 
 ments. Singularly fitted for the part he 
 had been called upon to perform, lie 
 won the hearts of all with whom he 
 came in contact, and left at last univer- 
 sally loved and regretted. It is no use 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE'WAR. 
 
 93 
 
 I say again, General, the Emperor will 
 not prive you employment." 
 
 "I knew it," replied Shelby. 
 
 "How 'J "and de None shrugged his 
 sbonlders. 
 
 " From his conntenancc. Not once 
 conld I bring the blood to his calm, be- 
 nignant face. He lias faith bat no en- 
 thusiasm, and enthusiasm such as he 
 needs would be but another name for 
 audacity. I say to you in all frankness, 
 Count de Noue, Maximilian will fail in 
 his diplomacy." 
 
 " Your reasons, General." 
 
 " Because he Avill not have time to 
 work the problem out. 1 have traveled 
 elowly and in my own fashion from 
 Predras Negras to the city of Mexico — 
 traveled bv easy stages when the need 
 was, and by forced marches when the 
 need was, fighting a little at times 
 and resting a little at ease at times, but 
 always on guard and watching upon the 
 right hand and upon the left. Save the 
 ground held by your cantonments and 
 your garrisons, and the ground your 
 cannon can hold ia range and your cav- 
 alry can patrol and scour, you have not 
 one foot in sympathy -with you, with the 
 Emperor, with the Empire, with any- 
 tliing that promises to be respectable in 
 government or reliable m administra- 
 tion. Juraez lives as surely in the 
 hearts of the people as the snow is 
 eternal on the brow of Popoeatapetl, 
 and ere an answer could come from 
 Seward to the Emperor's Minister of 
 S-tate, the Emperor will have no Minister 
 of State. That's all, Count. I thank you 
 ^ery much for your kind offices to-day, 
 and would have given a good accountbf 
 my Americans if king-craft had seen 
 the wisdom of their employment. I 
 must go back to my men now. They 
 expect me early." 
 
 Thus terminated an interview that 
 had more of destiny in it, perhaps, than 
 the seeming indifference and disinclina- 
 tion to talk ou the part of the Emperor 
 might indicate. The future settled the 
 question of policy that alone kept the 
 ruler and his subject apart. When the 
 struggle came that Shelby had so plain- 
 
 ly and bluntly depicted, Maximilian was 
 in the midst of eight million of savages, 
 without an army — with scarcely a guard 
 — with none upon whom he could rely — 
 abandoned, deserted and betrayed. 
 Was it any wonder, therefore, that the 
 end of the Empire shonld be the dead 
 wall at Queretaro ? 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The annunciation of Maximilian's em- 
 phatic resolution bore heavily upon the 
 Americans for some brief hours, and 
 thej- gathered about their barracks in 
 squads and groups to talk over the mat- 
 ter as philosophers and look the future 
 full in the face like men. A soldier is 
 most generally a fatalist. Some few of 
 them have presentiments, and some 
 that abounding reverence for the Scrip- 
 tures that makes them Christians even 
 in the vengeful passions of pursuit ; but 
 to the masses rarely ever comes any 
 thouglit of the invisible — any care for 
 what lies out of eight and out of reach 
 and under the shadows of the sunset 
 world. Sufficient unto the day is indeed 
 for them the evil thereof. 
 
 These Americans, however, of Shelby's 
 had moralized much about the future, 
 and had dreamed, it may be, many use- 
 less and unprofitable dreams about the 
 conquests that were to give to them a 
 home, a flag, a country— a portion of a 
 new land tilled full of the richness of 
 the mines and the tropics. And many 
 times in dreaming these dreams they 
 went hungry for bread. Silver had be- 
 come almost invisible of late, and if all 
 the purses of the men had been emptied 
 into the lap of a woman, the dollars that 
 might have been gathered up 
 would scarcely have paid the 
 price oE a bridal veil. Still 
 they were cheerful. When every other 
 resource failed, they knew they were in 
 a land of robbers, and that for horses 
 and arms none surpassed them in all the 
 Empire. Hence when Shelby called 
 them around him after his interview 
 with the Emperor, it was with some- 
 
94 
 
 SHBLBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 thing of apathy or at least of indifference 
 that they listened to his report. 
 
 "We are cot wanted," he commenced, 
 "and perhaps it is best so. Those who 
 have fought as you have for a principle 
 have nothing more to gain in a war for 
 occupation or conquest. Our necessities 
 are grievous, it is true, and there is no 
 work for us in the line of our profession; 
 but to-day as upon the first day I took 
 command of you, I stand ready to abide 
 your decision in the matter of our des- 
 tiny. If you say we shall march to the 
 headquarters of Juarez, then we shall 
 march, although all of you will bear me 
 witness that at Piedras Negras I coun- 
 seled immediate and earnest service in 
 his government. You refused then as 
 you will refuse to-day. Why? Because 
 you are all Imperialists at heart just as I 
 am, and because, poor simpletons, you 
 imagined that France and the United 
 States might come to blows at last. 
 Bah! the day for that lias gone by. 
 Louis Napoleon slept too long. The 
 only foreigner who ever understood our 
 war— who ever looked across the ocean 
 with anything of & prophet's vision — 
 who ever said yes when he meant yes 
 and no when he said no— was Palmers- 
 ton, and he was an Abolitionist per se." 
 
 Here Shelby checked himself sudden- 
 ly. The old ironical fit had taken pos- 
 session of him— one which always came 
 to him on the eve of the battle or the 
 morning of the conflict : 
 
 "I find myself quoting Latin when 1 
 do not even understand Spanish. How 
 many of you know enough Spanish to 
 get you a Spanish wife with an acre of 
 bread fruit, twenty-five tobacco plants 
 and a handful of corn? We cannot 
 starve, boys." 
 
 The men laughed long and loud. 
 They had been gloomy at first and a 
 little resolved, some of them, to take to 
 the highway. As poor as the poorest 
 there, Shelby came among them with 
 his badinage and his laughter, and in an 
 hour the forces of the Expedition were 
 as a happy family again. Plans for the 
 future were presented, discussed and 
 abajidoned. Perhaps there would be 
 
 no longer any further unity of action. 
 A great cohesive power had been sud- 
 denly taken away, and there was danger 
 of the band breaking up — a band that 
 had been winnowed in the fierce winds 
 of battle, and made to act as with one 
 impulse, by the iron influences of disci- 
 pline and disaster. Many came solely 
 for the service they expected to take. If 
 they had to dig in the ground, or suffer 
 chances in the raising of cotton or corn, 
 they preferred to do it where it was not 
 necessary to plow by day and stand 
 guard over the mules and oxen at night 
 — to get a bed at the end of the furrows 
 instead of a fusilade. 
 
 To do anything, however, or to move 
 in any direction, it was necessary first 
 to have a little money. Gov. Reynolds, 
 with the same zeal and devotion that 
 had always characterized his efforts in 
 behalf of Missourians during the war 
 in his own country, sought now to ob- 
 tain a little favor for the men at the 
 hands of Marshal Bazaine. In conjunc- 
 tion with Gen. Magruder, he sought an 
 interview with the Marshal, and repre- 
 sented to him that at Parras the Expe- 
 dition had been turned from its origin- 
 al course, and forced to march into the 
 interior by his own positive orders. This 
 movement necessarily cut it off from all 
 communication with friends at home, 
 and rendered it impossible for those 
 who composed it to receive either letters 
 or supplies. Had it been otherwise, and 
 had the march to the Pacific been per- 
 mitted, in conformity with the original 
 intention, access to California was easy, 
 and the trips of the incoming and out- 
 going steamers to and from Guaymas 
 and Mazatlan regular and reliable. In 
 their view, therefore, the Marshal, thoy 
 thought, should at least take the matter 
 under consideration, and act in the 
 premises as one soldier should in deal- 
 ing with another. 
 
 Bazaine was generous to extrava- 
 gance, as most French officers are who 
 hold power in their hands, and whose 
 whole lives have been spent in barrack 
 and field. He took from his military 
 chest lifty dollars apiece for the men 
 
AN UTTWRITTEN LEAF OP THE WAR 
 
 95 
 
 and officers, share and share alike, and 
 this amount came to each as a rain to a 
 field that the sun is parching. It put 
 into their hands in a moment, as it were, 
 the choosing of their own destiny. 
 Thereafter every man went the way 
 that suited him best. 
 
 Commodore Maury had, several 
 months before, been made Imperial 
 Commissioner of Emigration, and was 
 at work upon his duties with the ambi- 
 tion of a sailor and the intelligence of a 
 savant. All who came in contact with 
 him loved the simple, frugal, gentle 
 Christian of the spiritual church and 
 the church militant. Some of his family 
 were with him. His son was there, Col. 
 Richard H. Maury, and his son's wife, 
 and other Americans who had families, 
 and who were at work in his office. 
 These formed a little society of them- 
 selves—a light as it were in the night of 
 the exiles. The Commodore gave the 
 entire energies of his massive mind to 
 the work before him. He knew well 
 the exhausted and discontented condi- 
 tion of the South, and he believed that 
 a large emigration could be secured 
 with but little exertion. He dispatched 
 agents to the United States charged with 
 the duty of representing properly the 
 advantages and resources of the country, 
 and of laying before the people the ex- 
 act condition of Mexican affairs. This 
 some of them did in a most satisfactory 
 manner, and as a result a great excite- 
 ment arose. By one mail from New 
 York he received over seven hundred 
 letters asking for circulars descriptive of 
 the country, and of the way to reach it. 
 
 Maury's renown had filled the old 
 world as well as the new. His "Physical 
 Geography of the Sea" saw itself 
 adorned in tine graces of eleven separate 
 languages. It also brought him fame, 
 medals, crosses, broad ribbons of appre- 
 ciation and purses well filled with gold, 
 these last being the offerings sea cap- 
 tains and shippers made to the genius 
 who laid his hand upon the ocean as 
 upon a slate, and traced thereon the 
 routes that the winds favored, ond the 
 route* that Lad in ambush upuu them 
 
 shipwreck and disaster. His calm, be- 
 nevolent face, set in a framework of iron 
 gray hair, was one which the women and 
 the chilflren loved— a picture that had 
 over it the aureole of a saint. No gen- 
 tler man ever broke bread at the table of 
 a court. Much of the crispness and thf 
 sparkle of the salt water ran through hU 
 conversation. He was epigrammatic to 
 a degree only attained on board a man- 
 of-war. His mind had the logic of in- 
 stinct. He divined while other men 
 delved. Always a student, the brillianct; 
 of his imagination required at his hands 
 the most constant curbing. Who thai 
 has read that book of all sea books has 
 forgotten his reference to the gulf 
 stream wljen he says "There is a river 
 in the midst of the ocean." Destiny 
 gave him a long life iln.t he might com- 
 bat against the treachery of the sea. 
 When he died he was a conqueror. 
 
 Gen. Magruder was the imperial Com- 
 missioner of the Land Office, and he, 
 too, had gathered his family around 
 him, and taken into his sei-vice other 
 Americans weary of degradation at 
 home, and exiles in a land that might to- 
 day have been Maximilian's. Magruder 
 had once before entered Mexico as a 
 conqueror. Ail its ways and its moodw 
 were known to him, and often in the 
 sunshiny weatlier, when the blue air 
 blessed the glad earth with its blessings 
 of freshness and fragrance, those who 
 were dreaming of the past followed him 
 hour after hour about Chepultepec, and 
 over the broken way of Cerro Gordo, 
 and in amid the ruins of Molino del Rey, 
 and there where the Beleu gate stood 
 yet in ghastly and scattered fragments, 
 and yonder in its pedregral and under 
 the shadow of Huasco, about the crest 
 of Churubusco, green now in the gar- 
 ments of summer, and asleep so peace- 
 fully in the arms of the sunset that the 
 younger loiterers think the old man 
 strange when he tells of the storm and 
 the massacre, the wounded that were 
 bayoneted and the dead that were butch- 
 ered after all life had fled. There are 
 no spectres there, and no graves among 
 the rums, and no splotches as of blood 
 
96 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 upon the velvet leaves. Yes, surely the 
 old man wanders, for but yesterday, it 
 seems to them, the battle was fought. 
 
 Soldiers never repine. Destiny with 
 them has a name which is called April. 
 One day it is gracious in sunshiuy 
 things, and the next ruinous with rain- 
 storms and cloudy weather. As it 
 comes they take it, laughing always and 
 at peace with the world and the things 
 of the world. Some faces lengthened, 
 it may be, and some hopes fell in the 
 hey-day and the morning of their life, 
 when Shelby told briefly the story of 
 the interview, but beyond the expres 
 sions of a certain vague regret, no man 
 went. Another separation was near at 
 hand, one which, for the most of them 
 there, would be the last and irre- 
 vocable. 
 
 In the vicinity of Cordova there was 
 a large extent of uncultivated land 
 which had once belonged to the Church, 
 and which had been rudely and unscru- 
 pulously confiscated by Juarez. When 
 Maximilian came into possession of the 
 government, it was confidently believed 
 that he would restore to the Church its 
 revenues and territory, and more especi- 
 ally that portion of the (jcclesiastical 
 domain so eminently valuable as that 
 about Cordova. It embraced, probably, 
 some half a million acres of cotton and 
 sugar and coffee land, well- watered, and 
 lying directly upon the great national 
 road from Vera Cruz to the capital, and 
 upon the Mexican Imperial Railway, 
 then finished, to Paso del Macho, 
 twenty-five milej soutliward from Cor- 
 dova. 
 
 Maximilian, however, confirmed the 
 decree of confiscation issued by Juarez, 
 and set all this land apart for the benefit 
 of American emigrants who, aa actual 
 settlers, desired to locate upon it and 
 begin at once the work of cultivation. 
 Men having families received six hun- 
 dred and forty acres of land, at the 
 stipulated price of one dollar and a 
 quarter per acre, and men without fami- 
 lies three hundred and twenty acres at 
 the same price. Commissioner Maury, 
 remembering his schooling and the ex- 
 
 perience of his Washington days when 
 he ruled the JSTational Observatory so 
 much to the glory of his country and the 
 honor of science, adopted the American 
 plan of division, and thereby secured 
 the establishment of a system that was 
 as familiar to the new comers as it was 
 satisfactory. 
 
 Many settlers arrived and went at 
 once to the colony, which, in honor of 
 the most perfect waman of the Nine- 
 teenth Century, was named Carlota. A 
 village sprung up almost in a night. 
 The men were happy and sung at their 
 toil. Birds of beautiful plumage flew 
 near and nearer to them while they 
 plowed, and in the heat of the after- 
 noons they reposed for comfort under 
 orange trees that were white with bloom 
 and golden with fruit at the same time. 
 So impatient is life in that tropical land 
 that there is no death. Before it is 
 night over the eyes the sun again has 
 peopled all the groves with melody and 
 perfume. The village had begun to put 
 on the garments of a town. Emigration 
 increased. The fame of Carlota went 
 abroad, and what had before appeared 
 only a thin stream of settlers, now took 
 the form of an inundation. 
 
 Shelby told his men all he knew about 
 Carlota, and advised them briefly to pre 
 empt the legal quantity of land and give 
 up at once any further idea of service in 
 the ranks of Maximilian's army. Many 
 accepted his advice and entered at once 
 and heartily upon the duties of this new 
 life. Others, unwilling to remain in the 
 Empire as colonists, received permission 
 from Bazaine to march to the Pacific. 
 On the long and dangerous road some 
 died, soDje were killed, and some took 
 shipping for California, for China, lor 
 Japan, and for the Sandwich Islands. 
 A few, hearing wonderful stories of the 
 treasures Kidd, the pirate, had buried 
 on an island in tlie Pacific Ocean, got 
 aboard a schooner at Mazatlan and 
 sailed away in quest of gold. Those 
 that survived the adventure returned 
 starving, and for bread joined the Impe- 
 rial army in Sonora. Perhaps fifty took 
 service in the Third Zouaves. A singu- 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF" THK WAR. 
 
 97 
 
 Tar incident detevmined the regiment of 
 tlieir clioice. After authority had been 
 received from the Marshal foi' tlie en- 
 listment, a dozen or more strolled into 
 the Almeda where, of evenings the 
 bands played and tlie soldiers of all arms 
 promenaded. In each corps a certain 
 standard of height had to be complied 
 Avith. The grenadiers had need to be 
 six feet, the artillerymen six feeta,nd an 
 inch, the cuirassiers six feet, and the 
 hussars six feet. Not all being of the 
 same stature, and not wishing to be sep- 
 arated, the choice of the Americans was 
 reduced to the infantry regiments. It 
 is further obligatory in the French ser- 
 vice, that when soldiers are on duty, the 
 jnivate in addressing an otfieer shall re- 
 move his cap and remain with it in his 
 liaud until the conversation is finished. 
 This was a species of discipline the 
 Americans had never learned, and they 
 stood watching the various groui>s as 
 tliey passed to and fro, complying scru- 
 ]>nlously with the regulations of the ser- 
 vice. At last a sctuad of Zouaves saun- 
 tered nonchalantly by — great bearded, 
 medalled fellows, bronzed by African 
 suns and swarthy of brow and cheek as 
 any Arab of the desert. The pictures- 
 <iue uniform attracted all eyes. It was 
 war dramatized— it was campaigning 
 (expressed in poetry. An ofBcer called to 
 one of the Zouaves, and he went forward 
 saluting. Tiiis was done by bringing 
 the right hand up against the turban, 
 with the palm extended in token of re- 
 spect, but the turban itself was not re- 
 moved. The subordinate did not uncover 
 to his superior, and therefore would 
 the Americans put on turbans, and make 
 Zouaves of themselves. Capt. Pierron, 
 more of an American than a Frenchman, 
 supervised the metamorphosis, and 
 when the toilette was complete even 
 Siielby himself, with his accurate cav- 
 alry eyes, scarcely recognized his old 
 Confederates of the four years' war. At 
 daylight the next morning they were 
 nuuching away to Monterey at the dou- 
 ble quick. 
 
 Gen. Sterling Price, of Missouri, with 
 a remnant of Lis body guard and a few 
 
 personal friends, built himself a bamboo 
 house in the town of Carlota, and com- 
 menced in good earnest the life of a 
 farmer. Emigration was active uovr 
 both from Texas overland and by water 
 from the gulf. Gen. Slaughter and 
 Capt. Price established a large saw mill 
 at Orizava. Gen. Bee engaged exten- 
 sively in the raising of cotton, as, also, 
 did Captains Cundiff and Hodge. Gen. 
 Hindman, having mastered the Spanish 
 language in the short space of three 
 mouths, commenced the practice of lavr 
 in Cordova. Gen. Stevens, the chief en- 
 gineer of Gen. Lee's staff, was made 
 chief engineer of the Mexican Imperial 
 Railway. Gov. Reynolds was appointed 
 superintendent of two short line railroads 
 running out from the city. Gen. Shelby 
 and Maj. jMcMurty, with headquarters at 
 Cordova, became large freight contract- 
 ors, and established a line of wagons 
 from Paso del Macho to the capital. 
 Ex-Gov. Allen, of Louisiana, assisted by 
 the Emperor, founded the Mexican 
 Times, a paper printed in English, and 
 devoted to the interests of colonization. 
 Generals Lyon, of Kentucky, and Mc- 
 Causland, of Virginia, were appointed 
 government surveyors. Gen. Watkins 
 was taken into the diplomatic service, 
 and sent to Washington on a special 
 mission. Everywhere the Americans 
 were honored and promoted, but the 
 army, to any considerable number of 
 them, was as a sealed book. Where they 
 could have done the most good they 
 were forbidden to enter. 
 
 To the superficial observer the condi- 
 tion of affairs in Mexico in the latter 
 part of the year 1865 seemed most favor- 
 able, indeed, to the ultimate and suc- 
 cessful establishment of the empire. 
 The French troops occupied the entire, 
 country. M. Langlais, one of Napo- 
 leon's most favored ministers, ha<l 
 charge of the finances. Under his expe- 
 rienced hands order was rapidly lifting 
 itself above the waves of chaos. The 
 churoh party, always jealous and 
 suspicious, still yielded a 
 
 kind of sullen and ungracious 
 allegiance. Maximilian was a devout 
 
9S 
 
 SHELBYS EXPEDITION T0 MEXICO 
 
 Catholic, and his Empress was a de- 
 votee in all spiritual matters, but 
 theirs was the enlightened Catholicism 
 of Europe, which preferred to march 
 with events and to develope instead of 
 attempting- to thwart and retard the 
 inevi table advance of destiny. Thej^ de- 
 sii'ed to throw oft the superstition of a 
 century of ignorace and degradation, 
 and let a Hood of lisht pour itself over 
 the nation. An impoverished people 
 had not only moitgaged their lands to 
 the clergy but their labor as well. The 
 revenues were divided equally between 
 the Bishops and the commandantes of 
 the districts. Among the Indians the 
 influence of the monks was supreme. 
 In their hands at any hour was peace or 
 war. They began by asserting their 
 right to control the Emperor, they ended 
 in undisguised and open revolt. Desir- 
 ing above all things the confidence and 
 support of the church, Maximilian found 
 himself suddenly in an unfortunate and 
 embarrassing posi tion. He was between 
 two tires as it were, either of which was 
 most formidable, and ia avoiding the 
 one he only made the accuracy of the 
 other all the more deadly. Without the 
 levenue derived from the sequestrated 
 lands the church had owned in enormous 
 (luantities, he could not for a month 
 have paid the expenses oE his govern- 
 ment. Had he believed a restoration 
 advisable he would have found it simply 
 impossible. The Arch-Bishop was inex- 
 orable. Excommunication was threat- 
 ened. For weeks and weeks there were 
 conferences and attempted compromises. 
 Bazaine, never very punctual m his re- 
 ligious duties, and over apt to cut knots 
 that he could not untie, had always the 
 same ultimatum. 
 
 "Our necesities are great," he would 
 say, "and we must have money. You 
 do not cultivate yoar lands, and will not 
 sell them, you are opposed to railroads, 
 to emigration, to public improvements, 
 to education, to a new life of any kind 
 form or fashion, and we must advance 
 somehow and build up as we go. Not a 
 foot shall be returned while a French 
 « jldier can shoot a chassapot." 
 
 The blunt logic of the soldier bruised 
 while it wounded. Maximilian, more 
 conservative, tried entreaties and ex- 
 postulations, but with the same effect. 
 A breach had been opened up which 
 was to increase in width and distrac- 
 tion until the whole fabric fell in ruins. 
 When in his direst extiemity, the Em- 
 peror Vt'as abandoned by the party 
 which of all others had the most to lose 
 and expiate by his overthrow. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 The Empress Charlotte was a woman 
 who had been twice crowned — once with 
 a crown of gold, earthly and perishable, 
 and once with a crown of beauty as ra- 
 diant as the morning. When she arriv- 
 ed in Mexico, this beauty, then in its 
 youthful splendor, dazzled all behold- 
 ers. Her dark auburn hair was heavy, 
 long and silken. Her eyes were of that 
 lustrous browu Avhich were blue and 
 dreamy at times, and at times full of a 
 clear, penetrating light that revealed a 
 thought almost before the thought was 
 uttered. Her face was oval, although 
 the forehead a little high and project- 
 ing, was united at the temples by those 
 fine curves whicli give so much delicacy 
 and expression to the soul of women. 
 Her mouth was large and firm, and her 
 teeth were of the most perfect white- 
 ness. About the lower face there were 
 those lines of firmness which told of 
 unbending will and great moral force 
 and decision of character. Beneath the 
 dignity of the Queen, however, she car- 
 ried the ardor and the joy fulness of a 
 school-girl. Her nose was aquiline, the 
 nostrils open and slightly projecting, rt- 
 cording, as if upon a page, the emotions 
 of her heart, and the dauntless courage 
 which filled her whole being. At times 
 her beautiful face viiore an expression 
 impossible to describe — an expression 
 made up of smiles, divinations, ques- 
 tionings, the extreme and blended love- 
 liness of the ideal and the real — the 
 calmness and gravity which became the 
 Queen — the softness and pensiveness 
 wliich bespoke the woman. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN' LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 99 
 
 The frallery that contcained the por- 
 trait of Maximilian woukl be inconi- 
 ])lete without that of his devoted aud 
 heroic wife. She was a descendant of 
 Henry IV. of France, the hero of Ivry, 
 a ruler nest in goodness and greatness 
 to Louis IX., and the victim of tlie 
 I'ana^ical assassin Rivaillac. Her father- 
 was Leopold I., of Belgium, one of the 
 Avisest and most enlightened monarohs 
 of Europe. An Englishman by natural- 
 ization, he married the Princess Char- 
 lotte Augusta, daughter of George IV., 
 tl)e 3nd of May, 1816. His English wife 
 dying in childbirth, in 1817, Leopold 
 again married in 1833, uniting Iiimselt 
 witli Louise Maiia Tl.eresa Charlotte 
 Isabella de Orleans, daughter of Louis 
 Philippe, King of France, Of this mar- 
 riage was tlie Empress Carlota born on 
 tiie 7th of June, 1840, and who received 
 at her christening the names of Maria 
 Clharlotte Amelia Auguste Victoire 
 Clementine Leopoldino. Her father 
 was called the Nestor of Kings, and her 
 mother the Holy Queen, such being her 
 charity, her purity, and her religious de- 
 votion. The first died in 1865, while the 
 Empress was in Mexico, and the last in 
 1850. At the time when she most need- 
 ed the w'atchfulness and advice of a 
 father, she was suddenly bereft of both 
 his support and his protection. 
 
 No monarch on earth ever had a more 
 ambitious and devoted consort. The 
 daughter of a king, and reared amid 
 thrones and the intense personal loyalty 
 of European subjects, she l)elieved an 
 Empire might be established in the west 
 greater than any ever founded, after 
 long years of battle and state-craft, and 
 she entered upon the struggle with all 
 the impassioned ardor of her singularly 
 hopeful and confiding nature. Herun- 
 ri ^railed beauty won the enthusiasm of 
 cities, aud her unostentatious and chris- 
 tian charity erected for her a throne in 
 t';ie hearts of the suffering and unfortu- 
 nate. When the yellow fever was at its 
 height in Vera Cruz, and when all who 
 weie wealthy and well-to-do had lied to 
 the higher and healthier uplands, she 
 journeyed almost alone to t]ie stvickeu 
 
 I seaport, visited the hospitals, ministered 
 i unto the plague-stricken, ordered physi- 
 cians from the fleet, encouraged the 
 timid, inspired the brave, paid for 
 masses for the dead, and came away 
 wan and weary, but safe and heaven- 
 guarded. The fever touched not even 
 the hem of her garments. Fate, that 
 sent the east wind and the epidemic, 
 may, like the stricken sufferers, have 
 thought her angel. 
 
 There v/as pestilence, and famine, and 
 insurrection in Yucatan. The Indians 
 there, naturally warlike and enter- 
 prising, rose upon the government and 
 cast otf its authority. Tiibes revolted 
 and warred with one another. The 
 French, holding the large towns, forti- 
 fied and looked on in sullen apathy, sal- 
 lying out at times to decimate a province 
 or lay waste a farming district. In a 
 few weeks the insurrection would be 
 civil war. It was decreed in council 
 that the Emperor's presence was needed 
 in Yucatan. His affairs at home, how- 
 ever, were not promising, and he tarried 
 a little to arrange them better before 
 leaving. Of a sudden the Empress be- 
 sought leave to go in his stead. It was 
 refused. She perseveied day after day 
 and would not be denied. Inspired with 
 more than a woman's faith, and heroic 
 in all the grandeur of accepted sacrifice, 
 she made the perilous journey, taking 
 with her only an escort aud a confessor. 
 Her arrival at Merida was like a corona- 
 tion. All the state arose to do her 
 homage. She went among the tribes 
 and pacified thenj. She redressed their 
 wrongs, brought back the rebellious 
 leaders to a stiictallegiauce, cast herself 
 into the midst of pestilence, opened th<^ 
 churches, recalled the proscribed and 
 scattered priests, aud came away again 
 an angel. Unto the end the faith she 
 founded in her husband's empire re- 
 mained unshaken. After Queietero, Yu- 
 catan relapsed into barbarism. 
 
 The year 1865 was spent by the Eui- 
 pereor aud Marshal Bazaiue in vigorous 
 attempts to pacify the country and con- 
 solidate its power. The Liberal cause 
 seemed hopeless. Nowhere did Juarez 
 
Shelby's expedition to Mexico ; 
 
 liold a sea port, an outlyinj? niiDe, afoot 
 of giain-growiug tevritory, a ship, an 
 arsenal, a field large enough to encamp 
 jm army. Yet he held on. Thai slug- 
 gish, tenacious, ferocious Indian na- 
 ture of his was aroused at last, and 
 while he starved he schemed. A sadden 
 dnshof cavalry upon liis winter quar- 
 ters at El Paso drove bim into the 
 IJoited States. He went to San Antonio 
 ;i fugitive President without a dollar or 
 ;i regiment, and waited patiently until 
 the force of the blow had spent itself. 
 As the French retired he advanced. 
 Scarcely had his adieu been forgotten 
 in El Paso when his good day greeted 
 it« good people again. Everywhere, also, 
 were his guerrillas at w^ork. Ouce in 
 a speech upon the annexation of 
 San Domingo, Carl Schiaz exclaimed: 
 "Beware of the tropics." And why "i 
 Because the tropics breed guerrillas. 
 Tliey do not die in war times. Malaria 
 does not kill them. To eradicate them 
 it is first necessary to find aud to cap- 
 ture them. They can not be found and 
 fought. All nature is in league with 
 tliem— -the heat, the bread-fruit, the 
 bananas, tire orange-groves, the zepotas, 
 the mangos, the cocoa-nuts, the mon- 
 keys. These last, sentinels through im- 
 itation, chatter volubly at the pursuers 
 and cry out in soldier fashion aud iu 
 words of warning: "Qaieii viveP'' 
 Wherever the Spanish blood is found 
 there is found also an obstinacy of pur- 
 pose impossible to subdue— a siugularly 
 ferocious aud untamable resolution that 
 dies only with anuiiiilation. It will 
 never make peace, never cease from the 
 trail, never let go its hold upon the 
 roads, never spare a. captive, never yield 
 a life to Biercy, never forgive the ruler 
 who would rule asaChristain and make 
 humanity the law of the land. 
 
 All the following that Juarez had now 
 was <me of guerillas. Porfino Diaz 
 lived by his wits and l)i8 presiamos. 
 Escobedo, constitutionally a coward 
 aud nationally a robber, preyed aloue 
 upon his friends. Try how they would, 
 the French found him always a runaway 
 or a thief. Negvete, witli six thousand 
 
 blanketed ladwnes, abandoned a cap- 
 tured train and fled as a stampeded 
 bulialo herd before a battalion of Zou- 
 aves. Lozado preserved in the moun- 
 tains of Nayarifc an armed neutrality. 
 Coroua, iu the delightful possession of 
 his beautiful American wife, sat himself 
 down in Sonora and waited for the tide 
 to turn. For his country he never so 
 much as lifted his hand. Cortina prayed 
 to the good Lord and the good devil, 
 and went alternately to mass and the 
 monte bank. 
 
 They all held on, however. An 
 unorganized Conmuine, the goods 
 of other peoi>le were their 
 goods — the money of other people 
 was their money. As long as the rains 
 fell, the crops matured, and cattle kept 
 clear of the murrain, and bread-fruit 
 got ripe, and the maguey made mescal, 
 they were safe from pestilence or fam- 
 ine. The days with them meant so 
 many belly fulls of tortillafi iXYXil frijolcH. 
 With the French it was different. Ked 
 tape has a dynasty of its own— a caste, 
 a throne, an army of field and staff offi- 
 cers. Each day represented so nsany 
 rations, so many bottles of wine, so 
 many ounces of tobacco, so many ci- 
 gars, so much soup, and bread and 
 meat. Failing in any of these, yqA tape 
 stepped in with its money commutation 
 in lieu of rations. Then for each deco- 
 ration there was an annuity. Scnne 
 Zouaves drew more pay than generals 
 of brigade. The Malakoff medal so 
 much, the liikeimauu medal so much, 
 the Chinese Emperor's Palace medal so 
 much, the Fort Constenfcine medal so 
 much, the Magenta and Solferiuo med- 
 als so much, the Pucbla medal so much, 
 aud so much for all the rest of the med- 
 als these many laurelled and magnifi- 
 cent soldiers wore. Wlien they were 
 paid ofi: they had monthly a saturna- 
 lia. 
 
 To make both ends mtet, Napoleon's 
 great ti nance minister, Lauglais — loan- 
 ed as an especial favor to iSfasimiiiau — 
 did the work of a giant. One day he 
 died. Apoplexy, that ally and avenger 
 of the best-iibnsed brain, laid hands 
 
AN U'NWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAK. 
 
 lOI 
 
 (»ii liim betweeu the Palace of Chepnl- 
 lepec and the office of the treasury. lu 
 two hours he was dead. All that he had 
 done died with him. Of his tinaucial 
 fabric, reared after so uiaiiy nights of 
 torture and troul>lc,theie was left s»;arce- 
 ly enough of pillar or post to drape with 
 iuournina: for the siuprle-miuded, siu- 
 cere and gifted architect. In the 
 dearth of specie the church was 
 called upon. The church had no 
 )iiouey, at least none for the de- 
 spoiler of its revenues and the colonizer 
 of its lands. Excommunication was 
 again threatened, and ihxis over the 
 thresidiold of the altar as well as the 
 treasury ,there crept the appalling shad- 
 ow of bankruptcy. 
 
 Bazaine threatened— tlie Emperor 
 j;;r;jyed— the Empress threvi' into the 
 scale all her private fortune at lier cora- 
 inaud. Outside the cabinet walls, how- 
 ever, cTerything appeared fair. Brilliant 
 reviews made the capital gorgeous and 
 enchanting. There were operas, and 
 Icles, and bull-tigi)ts, and great games 
 of jiionte in the public square, and duels 
 ;it intervals, and oiae unbroken tide of 
 i'rencii successes everywhere. Napoleon 
 sent over in the supreme agony of the 
 crisis two shi]) loads of speciCj-and there 
 UHS a biief breathing time again. 
 Meanwhile they would see, for when it 
 is darkest it is Tlib nearest to the mor^- 
 iug. 
 
 Inez Walker, the lescued maiden of 
 Encarnacion, was too beautiful to have 
 been lightly forgotten. Free once more, 
 and witi) the teixors ot that terrible 
 night attack all gone from her eager 
 eyes, slie liad continued with the Expe- 
 diliou to the capital, courteously at- 
 tended each day bv an escort of honor 
 furnished as regularly as the guards 
 were furnished. 
 
 In the City of Mexico, at the time of 
 hei' arrival, there was an American wo- 
 man who liad married a Prussian prince, 
 and who was known as tiie Princess 
 Salm Salni. Once, when she was yotmg- 
 er, she had ridden in a circus, several 
 of them, and as Miss Agnes LeClerc 
 v.-as noted for her accomplislied eques- 
 
 trianism, lier magniticent physique, a 
 beauty that was dark and over-bold, 
 a devil-ma.y-care abandon which won 
 well with tln)se who sat low by the foot- 
 lights and felt the glamour of the 
 whirling nmsic and the red flames that 
 flashed on golden and gaudy trappings 
 ot acrobat or actor. 
 
 Miss Le Oleic had met the Prussian in 
 Mobile after tiie Ameiican war was 
 over. The Prince had been a Federal 
 general of brigade whose reputation 
 was none ot the best for soldierly deeds, 
 although it is not recorded that he 
 either shunned or shirked a fight. Still 
 he was not what these parvenu Ameii- 
 cans of ours thinji a prince should be— 
 he did not clothe himself in silver, or 
 gold, in pur))le or fine linen, and con- 
 quer armies as Earey might have con- 
 quered a horse. There were some sto- 
 ries told, too, of unnecesary cruelty to 
 prisoners whom the fortunes of Avar cast 
 upon his hands helpless, but these did 
 not follow him into Mexico with his 
 American wife, who had married him 
 in Mobile, and who had got this far on 
 her way in search of a coronet. 
 
 She was told the history of Inez 
 
 Walker, and she.was a brave, sympatnet- 
 
 [ ie, tender-hearted woman wholoved her 
 
 I sex as all women do whom the world 
 
 I looks upon as having already unsexed 
 
 j themselves. They became fast friends 
 
 speedily, and were much together at 
 
 the opera and upon the, /lassco during 
 
 those last brief yet brilliant days of the 
 
 Empire. 
 
 The Prmce Salm Salm was on duty 
 with a brigade at Apam, in the moun- 
 tains towards Tampico. Guerrillas had 
 been at work there lately, a little more 
 Sixvage than usual, and Bazaine sent for- 
 ward Salm Salm to shoot such as he 
 could lay bauds upon and disperse those 
 that could not be caught. He acted 
 with but little of energy, and with 
 scarcely anything of ambition. He was 
 recalled finally, but not until his wife 
 had been grossly insulted and a Con- 
 federate had avenged her. 
 
 One day, in a cafe, several groups of 
 Belgian officers were at the tables sip- 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 pinff tlieir wine, aad jesting and talking 
 ol: much that was bad and useless. At 
 otlier places tliere were Austrians and 
 Frencb, and a few Spaniards, who eveij 
 then were beginning lo avoid the for- 
 eigners, and a single American who 
 w^as sitting alone and at his leisure. 
 _,,; Dr. Hazel was a yonng physician 
 * fiom South Carolina, wlso had gone 
 through the siege ot Siimpter with a 
 devotion and a constancy that had 
 found their way into general orders, 
 and that had returned in the shape of 
 a rain more precious to a soldier than 
 sunlight to flowers— the rain of official 
 recognition. In addition to the com- 
 pliments received he was promoted. 
 .is he sipped liis claret, several ladies 
 entered, some attended and some unat- 
 tended. French custom makes a cafe 
 ;is cosmopolitan as the street. All sexes 
 congregate there, and all stratas of so- 
 ciety ; custom simply insists that the 
 common laws of society shall be obeyed 
 —that those of the demi-monde shall not 
 advertise their x>i-ofessiou, that the 
 \, gambler shall not display his cards, 
 the guerrilla uncoil his lasso, the grand 
 dame exhibit her prudery, the detective 
 his insincerity, and the priest hisprotests 
 and his confessional. Appetite admits 
 of no divided sovereignty, and hence, 
 at meal time, the French recognize only 
 one class in society, that of the super- 
 latively hungry. 
 
 The Princess Saliu Salm returned the 
 salutation of several French officers as 
 she entered, and bowed once or twice in 
 acknowledged of salutes rendered by 
 the Austrians of her husband's brigade. 
 Beyond these she seemed to prefer ia- 
 solation and privacy. Among the Bel- 
 gians there was a Major who had a huge 
 yellow beard, a great coarse voice, a 
 depth of chest like an ox, a sword-belt 
 whose extent would girth a hogshead. 
 In French cafes, gentlemen very 
 rarely speak above the low conversa- 
 tional tone of the drawing room. To be 
 boisterous is to be either drank or a 
 blackguard. This Belgian, Major Med- 
 omark of the Foreign Legion, did not 
 seem to be drunk, and yet as he looked 
 
 at the Princess Salm Salm, his voice 
 would change its intonation and deepen 
 harshly and gratingly. If he meant to 
 be oftensive he succeeded iirst rate. 
 
 The Princess pushed back her plate 
 and arose as one who felt that she was 
 the subject of conversation without 
 understanding the words of it. As slie 
 passed through the door, Medomaric 
 boisterously and in great glee, called 
 out a slang teina of the circus, and 
 shouted : 
 
 " Boop !«.'" 
 
 The Agnes Le Clerc that was of tSie 
 sawdust and tights, the Princess Sain. 
 Salm that is now of the titles and dia- 
 monds, heard the brutal cry and felt to 
 her heart the studied insult. Turning 
 instantly, she came again half into the 
 cafe — her e.yes full and discolored wilh 
 passion, and her face so white that it 
 appeared as if the woman was in mortal 
 pain. She could not speak — though she 
 tried hard, poor thing, but she looked 
 once at Medamark as if to crusli him 
 where he sat, and once to Hazel, who 
 understood it all now, and arose as she 
 again retired. 
 
 He went straight to his American 
 countrywoman. Ax the cowardly in- 
 ference of the Belgian the French offi- 
 cers had laughed and the Austrians had 
 applauded. Even those of her lius- 
 band's own brigade had not uttered pro- 
 test or demanded apology. Hazel found 
 her in teai's. 
 
 "You. have been insulted,'' he said. "I 
 know it, or rather, I may say I saw it. 
 Not understanding German, if, indeed, 
 the Belgians speak German, I have to 
 rely for my opinion more upon the man- 
 ner than the matter of the insult. Your 
 husband is away, you are an American . 
 lady, you are a countrywoman of mine, 
 you are in trouble and you need a pro- 
 tector. Will you trust your honor in 
 my hands?" 
 
 This actress was a brave, proud vn o- 
 maii, born, perhaps, to rule men as much 
 by the force of her will as the bizarre 
 style of her beauty and her physical de- 
 velopment. She took Hazel's hand and 
 thnnk-ed him, and bade him chastise the 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 103 
 
 iusoleat bully. She knew very well what 
 chastisement meant in the law g'li age of 
 a soldier, and she Avas a soldiei^s wife. 
 She never referred to the future, how- 
 ever. She did not even evince interest 
 enough to be curious. Perhaps her pas- 
 sion kept her from this — at least her 
 obampion bowed low to her as he en- 
 tered, thiukiug ber the coldest woman 
 a man ever put hiv^ life in jeopardy for. 
 Cold she was not. She simply consid- 
 ered what was done for her as being 
 done because of her inaliciiable right to 
 liave it done. She was not familiar, she 
 ouiy tolerated. 
 
 Hazel, in stature, was very slight. As 
 he stood up before Medomark the huge 
 Belgian glowered upon him as Goliah of 
 Gath might have done upon David. 
 
 "' Do you speak EugiisliT'' he asked of 
 the Major. 
 
 " A little." 
 
 "Enough to understand the truth 
 when I tell it to you^ " 
 
 "Perhaps, if it is not so plain that for 
 the telling 1 will have to brealc every 
 bone in your body." 
 
 Medomark's voice was one of that 
 uncontrollable kind that run away with 
 a subject in spite of itself. He meant 
 to be quiet so as not to attract atten- 
 tion, but he was so rude that many of 
 the spectators quit eating to look on. 
 
 "That lady," Hazel continued, "who 
 has just gone out is a country-woman of 
 mine. She may have been an actress just 
 as you may have b6eu a hangman's son, 
 but whatever she has been she is a wo- 
 man. We do not insult women in the 
 country where I once lived, nor do we 
 permit it to be done elsewhere. Will 
 you apologize to herf 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 "Will you acce])t this card and let me 
 send a friend to you f 
 
 "I will with pleasure." 
 
 "Then I wish you good day, gentle- 
 men," and Hazel bowed to all as he 
 went out like a man who had just fin- 
 ished his dinner. 
 
 Medomark was l)rave —besides, he 
 wasanoSicer. There weie, therefore, 
 bu: t\v - fuarses left to huu— but two 
 
 things to do— to accept Hazel's cartel or 
 to refuse it. In preference to disgrace 
 he chose the duello. ITa":pl found his 
 second sp(;edily.. He, too, was a sol- 
 dier—one of Shelby's best, James Wood 
 — who would go to any extreme on eartli 
 for a friend. 
 
 When two men mean business, the 
 final arrangements are simply matteis 
 of form. On the morning after Medo- 
 mark's insult in the eafe, Wood called 
 upon him early. During the day the. 
 preliminaries were all amicably agreed 
 upon, and at sunrise the next morning, 
 about a quarter of a mile south-east of 
 the American burying groixnd. Hazel and 
 Medomark met at ten paces with duel- 
 ing pistols. Tlie Belgian's second was 
 a young French Lieutenant named Mas- 
 sac, who won both the position and the 
 word. When the men took their places. 
 Hazel had the sun in his eyes, and this 
 annoyed him at first, for it was very 
 hot and penetrating. They fired twice; 
 at each other. The first time both miss- 
 ed — the second time Hazel struck Medo- 
 mark upon the outside point of the 
 right shoulder, injuring the bone great- 
 ly and severing an artery that bled as if 
 the man would bleed to death. Prompt 
 and efficient surgical skill, however, 
 saved his life. The duel ended after 
 the second fire, the Princess Salm Salir, 
 so splendidly vindicated at the 
 hands of her young countryman, Avas 
 the toast thereafter of the officers of the 
 garrison. The Prince on his return 
 could not render thanks enough, nor 
 seek to show his appreciation of the 
 chivalrous act by too many evidences ot 
 a more substantial gratitude. The city 
 being under martial law, a court-martial 
 was soon convened for the trial of all 
 who were engaged in the duel. A sen- 
 tence, however, was never reached. 
 Upon, the request of Bazaine, the court 
 was dismissed and 'the prisoners set at 
 liberty. Medomark recovered fully only 
 to be desperately Avounded again at 
 j Queretero, where, after long and devoted 
 I attention on the part of Dr. Hazel, a 
 1 surgeon in the Republican army, he 
 ' was restored to both health and liberty. 
 
I04 
 
 Shelby's expedition to mexico ; 
 
 From this little episode a, friendship 
 sprung up which has remained unbroken 
 to this day, 
 
 Tlie colony at Carlota grew apace and 
 was prosperous. The men began to 
 cultivate coftee and sugar, and from a 
 jungle the plantations soon bloomed 
 and blossomed like another Paradise. 
 As an especial favor from Maximilian, 
 Slielby was permitted to pre-empt the 
 hacienda of Santa Anna, not a hacienda, 
 liovv'ever, that had belonged to this 
 prince and chief of conspirators, but 
 one that had been named for hira. 
 Spaniards once owned it, but in the 
 massacres of the revolution all had per- 
 islied. About the ruins of the fortress 
 which still abounded, there were signs 
 Nvhich told of the fury of the onslaught 
 and the scorching of the flames that fol- 
 lowed when the rapine and the ravish- 
 ments were done. Situated two miles 
 from Cordova, and in the very purple 
 heart of the tropics, it might have been 
 made at once into a farm and a flower- 
 garden. Twelve acres were put in cof- 
 fee, and coffee Avell cultivated and per- 
 mitted to a row in a land were there is 
 law and protection, pays to the raiser a 
 minimum price per acre of fifteen hun- 
 dred dollar -i. It seems, however, that na - 
 tnre is never perfectin the equilibrium of 
 her gifts. There, where the soil is so 
 deep, the air so soft, the climate so de- 
 licious, the trade winds so cool and de- 
 lightful, the men alone are idle, and 
 come in the night to the plantations of 
 the foreigners to break down their cof- 
 fee trees, poison their spring water, 
 wound their dumb stock, and damage 
 everything that can be damaged and 
 that comes in their way. 
 
 In the mountains in tlie rear of Shel- 
 by's plantation a robber baud rendez- 
 voHzed. Its chief, Don Manuel llodri- 
 guez, was a daring leader, who descend- 
 ed to the plains at intervals with a 
 reckless following, and made headway 
 for hours at a time in his work of 
 gathering up supplies and levying 
 prestamos. In a month after Shelby's 
 arrival a friendly relationship was es- 
 tablished, and thereafter, until the end. 
 
 Rodriguez 'protected Santa Anna, and 
 lived at peace with all who were settled 
 round about. Just how the negotiations 
 were commenced and consummated 
 which led to a truce so satisfactory and 
 so necessary, none ever knew, but 
 true it is that in the cool of the even- 
 ings, and when the French drains had 
 beaten tattoo at the fort only half a 
 mile away, Rodriguez w^ould come down 
 from his fastnesses as a peaceful visitor, 
 and sit for hours among the Ameiicaiis. 
 asking of the Yankee country, and the 
 lips and the downs of the Yankee w'ar, 
 for to a Mexican everything is Yankee 
 which is American. 
 
 Ex-Governor Isham G. Harris, of Ten- 
 nessee, also a settler, might have been 
 designated the Alcalde of Carlota. The 
 Confederates looked upon him with a 
 kind of reverence. By the side of 
 Albert Sidney Johnston when he got 
 his death-wound, he had taken him in 
 his arms and held him there until the 
 mist came into his sad, prophetic eyes, 
 and until the brave, fond heart, broken 
 by his country's ingratitude, and the 
 clamor of despicable and cowardlj- 
 politicians, had ceased to beat. Brown - 
 low especially wanted Harris, and so 
 Harris had come to Mexico. He knew 
 Brownlow well — a bitter, unrelenting, 
 merciless fanatic, and a fanatic, too, 
 wlio had come in on the crest of the 
 ;v ive that liad drowned the cause for 
 vliich Harris fought. He believed that 
 if the old Pagan failed to find a law tor 
 his capital punishme'it, he would suc- 
 ceed, certainly through the influence of 
 gold and i)olitical ]>ower over an assas- 
 sin. Unwilling at all events to risk the 
 tyrant, he found penniless asylum at 
 Cordova, poor only in pocket, however, 
 and courageous and proud to the last. 
 He was a cool, silent, contemplative 
 man, witli a iieavy lower jaw, projecting 
 forehead, and iron gray hair. lu his 
 principles he was an Ironside of the 
 Cromwelliau type. Perhaps the intense 
 faith of Iris devotion gave to liis charac- 
 ter a touch of fat^xlism, for when the 
 ship stranded he was cast adrift utterly 
 wrecked ia everything but bis undying 
 
AN UNWRITTEN I.EAF OK THE WAR. 
 
 eoufidence in tbe success of the Coiit'ed- 
 eracy. He believed ia Providence as 
 M! ally, and ic^iected constantly tlie idea 
 /jixt Providence takes very little hand 
 I wars that come, about between fanii- 
 :es or >States— if, indeed, ia wars of any 
 Kind. With his jjreat energy, his calai 
 ciMuage, his shrewd, pratical intercourse 
 Vv ith the natives, his record as a g'ov- 
 crnor and a soldier, he exerted iiniuense 
 influence for good with the soldier-set- 
 tlers and added much to the strength 
 .uid stability of the colony. 
 
 Col. Perkins, of Louisiana, a Judge 
 of great fame and ability, and a 
 lawyer as rich in triumphs at the bar as 
 he was possessed of slaves and cotton- 
 bales upon his plantation, abandoned 
 everything at liome but his honor and 
 isolated himself among his coftee-trees 
 ;)jid bananas. When the Avar closed he 
 took a weelc to speak his farewells and 
 '.>arn his dwelling-house, his cotton 
 iuesses, his stables, barns, ont-houses, 
 and to make iu fact of his vast posses- 
 sions a desert. He had a residence rich 
 in everytliing that could amuse, instruct, 
 delight, gratify. Painting, statuary, 
 dowers, curiosities, rare plants, elegant 
 ol)jects of vertu and art were there in 
 ubuudauce, and when from the war he 
 returned crushed in spirit and broken 
 in iiealth, he rested one night brooding 
 amid all the luxury and magnificence of 
 his home. He arose the next morning a 
 stoic. With a torch in his hand he fired 
 -verything that would burn, leaving 
 'nowhere one stone upon another to tell 
 of what had once been the habitation of 
 elegance and refinement. In his Mexi- 
 can solitude "he was aa aristocratic 
 plnlosopher, complaining of nothing ami 
 luoki'ig bacic with regret upon nothing. 
 Sufficient unto the da.y for him had been 
 the evil thereof. 
 
 Gen. P!f-erli"o- Price was another set- 
 tler. Many of ills escort company had; 
 taken lantls around him. The natpfi^'f^'h 
 . liief iu a, new country, he sat much in 
 ihe shade about his tent, telling the 
 atones of the Avar and hoping iu his 
 heart for the tide of persecution and 
 proscription iu Missouri to run itself 
 
 11 A 
 
 out. Politics was as necessaiy to his 
 mental equilibrium assleej) to his physi 
 cal. i)i llie old days lie had succeed( d 
 well. Katuie gave him a fine voice, 
 a portly frame, a com manding front, a 
 graceful and dignified carriage, an 
 aplomb that never descended into ner- 
 vousness, and hence, as the Speaker of 
 a legislative body he was unexci'lled. 
 He dreamed of a 8])eakership again, of 
 a governorship, of a senatorship, and 
 he, therefofe, cultivated more corn than 
 he did coffee, for it takes tliree yea is 
 for coffee to grow and bear, and thre« 
 years might— well, he did not choose t(» 
 put himself into the hands of thre« 
 years and wait. 
 
 It would at least be curious, if it wei e 
 not interesting, to go in among these 
 colonists iu Carlota and learn their his- 
 tories while displaying the individualit.s 
 of each, A commcu misfortune honinl 
 theai all together in the strength of a 
 recognized and yet unwritten covenant. 
 The pressure of circumstances from 
 without kept them indissolubly united. 
 Poverty, that dangerous drug wliicli 
 stimulates when it does not stupefy, 
 lost its narcotism over men whom Avai 
 had chastised and discipline made 
 strong and reflective. They strove foi 
 but one purpose— to get a home and 
 occupy it. 
 
 The privateer Shenandoah— tliat mys- 
 terious cruiser Avhich was seen rarely at 
 sea, yet which left upon the waves of 
 the South Pacific a monstrous trail ol 
 fire and smoke— sent her officers into 
 the colony Avith their ship monej' and 
 tlieir cosmopolitan hardiliood. Lieuten- 
 ants Chew and Scales took valuable 
 land and Avent enthusiastically to worlc. 
 Ai-onnd the hacienda of Santa Anna 
 there was a cordon of strange pumeers 
 Avho had histories Avritten in characteis 
 impossible to decipher. The luerogiy- 
 phics were their scars, 
 '" And so afftiirs prospered about Car- 
 lota* and the long, sunshiny days Avent 
 on, iu Avhich the trade Avinds blew and 
 the orange blossoms scented all the air. 
 It was near three days long journey to 
 the capital, l)ut rumors traA'el fast when 
 
io6 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 every ear is listeniug for tbem, and a 
 report deepened all along the route 
 from Mesico to Vera Cruz ttat a staff 
 officer of tlie French Emperor had left 
 Paris for the headquarters of Marshal 
 Bazaine. A multitude of reasons were 
 assigned for the visit. Napoleon might 
 desire, for the purposes of information, 
 the direct observations of one who was 
 intimately acquainted with his views 
 and intentions. It might be, again, 
 with a view to increasing the forces of 
 the expedition, or to the employment of 
 moi'e active and rigorous measures in 
 tlie pacification of the country. Accord- 
 ingly, as men were hopeful or depress- 
 ed, they reasoned concerning this visit 
 of the French staff officer, even before 
 the officer himself was half across the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 From first to last, the treasury of 
 Masirailiaa had been comparatively 
 empty. He curtailed his own personal 
 expenses, abandoned the civil list, lived 
 like a pLdn and frugal farmer, set 
 everywhere an example of retrench- 
 ment aad economy, but it availed 
 nothing. Mexico, with all of her im- 
 mense miaeral resources, is, and has 
 been, usually poverty-stricken. There 
 is no agriculture, and, consequently, no 
 middle class. At one extreme is im- 
 mense wealth, at the other immense 
 misery. Ignorance and superstition do 
 the rest. 
 
 His exertions to pay his soldiers and 
 carry forward a few vitally necessary 
 internal improvements, were gigantic. 
 Pending the arrival of the French envoy 
 extraordinary, he had negotiated a loan 
 at home, which was taken by patriotism 
 —a strange word for a Mexican— and 
 which had already begun to flovf iuto 
 his empty coffers. 
 
 Things, therefore, were not so dark as 
 they had haen when Gen. Castelnau, 
 personal aide-de-camp of the Emperor 
 Napoleon, arrived at Vera Cruz. 
 
 Gen. Castelnau kept his own secret 
 well, which was also the secret of his 
 master, Napoleon III. A magnificent 
 review was held in the city of Mexico at 
 
 which he was present. Soldiers of all 
 arms were there, and a great outpouring 
 of the people. Everything looked like 
 war, nothing like evacuation, and yet 
 Gen. Castelnau brought with him defin- 
 ite and final orders for the absolute and 
 unconditional v/ithdrawalof the French 
 troops. 
 
 The Empress penetrated the purpose 
 of his mission Mrst and again came for- 
 ward to demand a last supreme effort in 
 behalf of the totteiitig throne. She 
 would go to Europe and appeal to its 
 chivalry. The -daughter of a king, it 
 would be to monarchs to whom she 
 would address herself face to face. She 
 was youug, and beautiful, and pleading 
 for her crown, and why would not ar- 
 mies arise at her bidding and. march 
 either to avenge or rein state her ? Poor, 
 heroic woman, she tried as never woman 
 tried before to stem the tide of fate, but 
 fate was against her. First the heart 
 and then the head, until with hope, 
 faith, ambition, reason all gone, she 
 staggered out froim the presence of Nap- 
 oleon dead in all things bat a love that 
 even yet comes to her fitfully in the 
 night time as dreams come, bringing 
 images of the trees about the Alameda, 
 of the palace where she dwelt, of Mira- 
 mar and Maximilian. 
 
 In the summer of 1866 she sailed for 
 Europe. She knew Castelnau's mission 
 and she determined to thwart it. There 
 was yellow fever at Vera Cruz and pes- 
 tilence on the ocean. Some of her at- 
 tendants were stricken down by her side 
 and died at Cordova— others oo board the 
 ship that carried her from port. She 
 bore up wonderfully while the mind 
 held out. Nothing affrighted her. The 
 escort marching in the rear of her car- 
 riage was attacked by guerrillas. She 
 alighted from it, bade a soldier dis- 
 mount, got upon the back of Ms horse 
 and galloped into the fight. Here was an 
 Amazon of the 19th centuiy who had ' 
 a waist like a willow wand, who paint- 
 ed rare pictures, who had a husband 
 whom she adored, wlio sang the ballads 
 of her own exquisite making, who was 
 struggling lor a kingdom and a crown,, 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 107 
 
 ami who had never in all lier life seen 
 a drop ot: blood or a man die. 
 
 The fight was simply a guerrilla fight, 
 however, and from an Amazon the wo- 
 man was transformed into an Empress 
 again— tender, considerate, desperate in 
 the wild emergency npon her, and joy- 
 ous with the fierce eagerness of her 
 longings and her despair. 
 
 Never any more in life did the blue 
 eyes of her husband and her lover gaze 
 ux)on that fair Norman face, almost 
 colorless now and set as a flint in the 
 stormy sunset of the night when she 
 sailed away to her destiny. 
 
 Bazaiue took his time to obey his 
 orders— indeed, he had margin enough 
 aud leisure enough to contract his lines 
 pleasantly. Not always over-bold in 
 retreat, the French had yet learned well 
 the nature of Mexican warfare and 
 would turn sometimes viciously when 
 galled to wincing on flank or rear, and 
 deal a few parting blows that unto this 
 day are recalled with shudderings or 
 impotent vows of vengeance. 
 
 One at Matamoras is worth a mention. 
 The Sixty-Second of the Line did gar- 
 rison duty there under Col. Lascolat. 
 He was to Dupin wd)at the needle-gun 
 is to the smoothe-hore. Dupin destroy- 
 ed singly, at short range, in ambush- 
 meuts, by lonesome roads, iu sudden 
 and unmerciful hours— from the depths 
 of isolation and the unknown. Lasco- 
 lat, an Algerian of&cer of singular 
 ferocity, hunted in regiments. Even 
 the physique of his mec was angular, 
 rakish, undulatory like the movements 
 of a greyhound. They would march 
 thirty miles a day fighting, bivouac nuy- 
 where, sleep if they could— very well, if 
 they could not, still very well. With 
 them was a priest who wore five medals 
 he had won in battle. When he had 
 time he shrived all alike. In his hands 
 the cross was good enough for the dy- 
 ing who spoke Spanish aud the dying 
 who spoke French. In the presence of 
 the. spectre he took no thought of na- 
 tionality. 
 
 As Lascolat came out from Matamor- 
 as, a portion of Escobedo's forces pres- 
 
 sed him inconveniently. His orders 
 from Bazaiue were to take his time, 
 fight only when forced, be dignified, 
 patient and discreet, but to make sure 
 of his egress out witli everything that 
 belonged to him or his. Lascolat had 
 under him two battalions of one thous- 
 and men each. The third biittalion 
 composing the regiment of the Sixty 
 Second had already been send foiward 
 to Jeanningros at Monterey. Escobedo 
 attacked with five tliousand. He knew 
 of Lascolat's ferocity— of his terrible 
 doings about and along the Rio Grande, 
 and he meant to take a farewell, the 
 memories of which would last eveu un- 
 to Algeria again. 
 
 One afternoon late the line of Lasco- 
 lafs march led through a ravine which 
 commenced broad like the mouth of a 
 funnel, aud tapered down to a point, as 
 a funnel would taoer. Near the outlet 
 Escobedo fortified the road with loose 
 boulders. Behind these, arsd upon the 
 sides of the acclivities on either side, he 
 placed his men in ambush. He had no 
 artillery, for he so shaped the fight as 
 to make it face to face aud deadly. 
 Lascolat entered into the trap listlessly. 
 If he knew what had been prepared for 
 him he made no sign. Suddenly the 
 loose, disjointed, impassive wall outlin- 
 ed itself. Some sharp skirmishing shots 
 came from the front. The shadows of 
 the twilight had begiju to gather. It 
 looked ugly and ominous where the 
 stones were. 
 
 Lascolat called a halt, and rode back 
 along the ranks of his men. They were 
 weary, and they had seated themselves 
 upon the ground to rest. His presence 
 fired them as a torch passing across a 
 line of ready gas-lights. He spoke to 
 them pleasantly in his Algerian ver- 
 nacular : 
 
 " The Arabs are ahead. We are hun- 
 gry, we are tired ; we want to go 
 into camp; we have no time to make a 
 flank movement. Shall we make quick 
 work of the job, that we may get some 
 supi)er and some sleep^" 
 
 The men answered him with a shout. 
 The charge commenced. It was a hurri- 
 
loS 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 caue. The bimicade of rocks was not 
 even so mucli as a fring-e of bulrushes. 
 Those who held it died there. The hill 
 sloy)es, eovered with prickly pear and 
 dagger-trees, hid a massacre. The 
 Sixty Second swarmed to the attack like 
 bees about a hive in danger. Para- 
 lyzed, routed, decimated, torn as a tem- 
 pest tears, Escobedo's forces fired but 
 one fair volley, and fled as shadows flee 
 when the wind pursues. The dead were 
 never counted. Lascolat's farewell was 
 taken, but those who came out well 
 fioui the hand-shaking slackened march 
 not a step until the rout had passed into 
 Matamoras, and over a,gaiust a river 
 thaii might be crossed for the wading. 
 Thereafter the Sixty Second foraged as 
 it pleased, and took its own time toward 
 the coast. 
 
 Col. Deprueil was m danger— Shelby's 
 old antagonist of Parras — and it re- 
 mained for Shelby to save him. In tlie 
 marchings and counter marchings of the 
 evacuation, Depreuil, commanding sis 
 hundred men of the Foreign Legion, 
 was holding a post twenty leagues 
 northwest of San Ijuis Potosi. Douay, 
 with inadequate cavalry, "was keeping 
 fast Jiold upon tlfis most important 
 strategical point, awaitiogthe detach- 
 ments from the extreme north. Shelby 
 was a freighter now, and had come from 
 the City of Mexico with a strong guard 
 of Americans, and eighty wagons Jaden 
 with supplies for the French. After re- 
 porting to Douay lie was sent forward 
 with twenty men and ten wagons to 
 Cesnola,the outlying post gariisooed by 
 Depreuil. The guerrillas, emboldened 
 by the absence ^rf cavalry, had risen up 
 some two thousand strong, and were be- 
 tween. San Luis and Cesnola. As Shelby 
 marched on into the oyjen country his 
 advance, under James Kirtley, was fired 
 upon, and two soldiers — James Ward 
 and Sandy Jones — severely wounded. 
 He countermarched to an abandoned 
 liacienda, encamped his wagons within 
 rbe walls, fortified as best he could, and 
 sent Kirtley back with two men to re- 
 p:n-t the condition of attairs to G-eneral 
 Douay. Kirtley was not well mounted' 
 
 lie had served awhile in the Thud 
 Zouaves, the hostile Mexicans were 
 swarming aboat all the roads, it looked 
 like death to go on, it certainly was 
 death to be taken, and so he started 
 when tlie night fell, having with him 
 two comrades, tried and true, Cleorge 
 Hall and Thomas Boswell. 
 
 It was thirty good miles to San Louis 
 Potosi, and those who waylaid the roads 
 had eyes that saw in the night and were 
 not baffled. 
 
 Capt. 7ames Kirtley, burnt alnu)st 
 brown by exposure, and by four long 
 years of stniggie with the wind and the 
 sun, had the face of a Mexican and tlie 
 heart of an English liiucer who rode 
 down to the guns witii Cardigan and 
 the Light Brigade. Peiii affected his 
 spirits as wine might. A^mbition and 
 adventure with him were twin mistress- 
 es — blonde to his eyes, beautiful, full <»f 
 all passionate love, lit to be worshipped, 
 and they were ' worshipped. Always 
 bravCi he had need to be always gener- 
 ous. Danger, when it does not deter, 
 sometimes gives to those wJio fear it 
 least a certain kind of pensiveness that 
 is often mistaken for iuuitterence. When 
 aroused, however, this kiod of a pensive 
 man rides harder and faster, liglits 
 longer and more desperately, will hold 
 on and hang on under greater stresvS, 
 reach out his life in Ids open hand often- 
 er, and die, if so the fates desire, witii 
 less of murmur and regret than a regi- 
 ment of great roystering soldiers whosse 
 voices are heard in songs in the night 
 with the mighty roll -and volume of the 
 wind among the pines. 
 
 Kirtley, even under the tawny })aint 
 the sun had put upon his face, would 
 blush like a girl when, to some noted 
 deed of soldierly daring, public atten- 
 tion directed the eyes of appreciation . 
 Praise only made him more reticent arid 
 retired. As he never talked of himself, 
 one could not hear aught of his valorous 
 deeds from his own lips, for these were 
 a part of himself. To compliment hiin 
 was to give him pain — to flatter was to 
 oftend; and yet this young hero, not 
 yet a man, surrounded by all things that 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 109 
 
 weie hostile, even to tlie lauguaere, 
 known to have been a soldier iu the 
 Third Zouaves, the terror of tiie E upire, 
 l)a(lly mounted for pursuit or escape, 
 ( aiiie with a ^mile upon his face for the 
 l)erilous venture, a,ud ro.le away and 
 into the niirht and the unknown, in 
 (fuest of succor for Deprenil and his be- 
 lea£;-ured g-ariisou. 
 
 It was a long thirty miles he had to 
 go, the three men, Kirtley, Hall and 
 Boswell. On every side theie were 
 guerrillas. The Bight was dark, al- 
 though the road was plain, for it was 
 the great national highway which ran 
 troni Monterey to the Capital. The 
 ilanger, howevei', came from the fact 
 that it was too plain. Others knew of 
 it, and rode along it, and crouched in 
 ambushment upon it, and made it a 
 torment for small parties l)y day as well 
 as by night. 
 
 Kirtley, even in the darkness, advanc- 
 ed in skirmishing order. First, he of 
 tiie three went alone in advance; behind 
 him was Hall, and in the rear of Hall, 
 Boswell. Between each was the dixS- 
 tanoe of twenty yards. It was ne- 
 cessary to get word through to Douay, 
 and Kirtley argued the less risk taken 
 tiie. greater chance (jliere would be for 
 I'ne of the pirty getting through. 
 
 "We must keep apart," he said, "just 
 tar enough to succor each other, but luit 
 too close to be killed by the discharge 
 of a shot-gun, as out of a flock of par- 
 tridges one might IviU a bag-full." 
 
 The ride was a silent and gn'nily tc- 
 uncious one. Three times they turned 
 from the high road to avoid a scouting 
 party of guerrillas, and once, iu going- 
 past a little group of four or five huts 
 by the \^ ayside— a place, indeed, where 
 niescul is sold, and where, upon aU the 
 road?! iu Mexico, huts are concentrated 
 for this purpose alone— Kirtley, who 
 had kept his position tixedly in front the 
 whole night through, was fired upon 
 from an' angle of a house. The bullet 
 missed his left thigh barely, and imbed- 
 ded itself in the flank of his poor, tired 
 horse that had borne himself staunchly 
 through it all. One diop of blood was 
 
 more really than the weai-y animal 
 could afford to give up, but this wound 
 bled freely, and the horse staggered as 
 he went, It was yet three leagues to 
 San Luis Potosi, and the night had 
 txirned. By dint of much coaxing and 
 walking to relievo him, Kirtley manag- 
 ed to get over some further gronml 
 slowly. He felt for his horse, as all cav- 
 alry soldiers do, and from the wound to 
 his abandonment he never struck him 
 once with the spur, though it might be 
 tl)at his life hung upcm the gait the 
 horse went, wejik and crippled as it 
 was. The wound was deeper than any 
 one of t!ie three thought, aud so, when 
 near the bottom of an abrupt descent, 
 the gallant stetd lurched forward sud- 
 denly, caught as it were by his fore feet, 
 reeled blindly, aud fell forward, too 
 helpless to arise again, too far gone for 
 leeclj or surgeon-craft. 
 
 Kirtley murmured not. Looking once 
 nt his faithful companion, as if in infiu- 
 ite pity, lie strode on under the stars on 
 foot, keeping' his place still in the ad- 
 vance, aud keeping his pensive face fix- 
 ed in the iron mould of its energy arid 
 determination. 
 
 It was daylight when the three danjit- 
 less scouts reached the French outposts 
 at San Luis Potosi — tired, safe, prouri 
 of the perils passed, ready to return at 
 a word aud to carry back the succor 
 She b}^ so much needed at this 
 time hia-jself, and the succor 
 Depreuil had needed, without knowing 
 it, for a week. 
 
 Douay gave to the three soldiers a 
 soldier's welcome. His old gray head, 
 inclined a little forward, heard all the 
 report through that Shelby had sent, and 
 it was brief enough even for him who 
 dealt mostly in gestures or monosylla- 
 bles. 
 
 "You hnve ridden all niglit,'" lie said, 
 "and you need food, sleep, brandy, 
 horses. Captain." 
 
 An aide came. 
 
 " Your pordon one moment. Gene- 
 ral," said Kirtley, " while I correct 
 you. We do not need any sleep. As 
 we return we can sleep as we ride. 
 
no 
 
 Shelby's expedition to Mexico 
 
 Tliat was otice part of our drill. 
 We left our General in danger, and 
 be ia turn sent us forward to notify 
 you of the danger of your Colonel. We 
 will take the food, tlie brandy and tbe 
 horses, Init the sleep, no, Greneial, with 
 many thanks." 
 
 Douay's keen brown eyes opened wide 
 ;it tliis frank and ingenuous speech. It 
 pleased him more than he cared to say — 
 more than he a.draitted then. After- 
 wards when a soldier led up a maguifi- 
 eeut Arab stallion to the meson where 
 Kirtley was eating and presented it to 
 liim in the name of Douay, the young 
 American felt in his heart the gratitied 
 ptide of one wliose perils and frankness 
 had meiited recognition at the hands of 
 him who had fought in the four quarters 
 of the world, and who had grown up 
 from childhood to old age a hero be- 
 loved by the army and revered by a 
 Dfition. 
 
 Before the sun rose three squadrons of 
 Chasseurs, a section of flying artillery, 
 and the three Americans thrown for- 
 ward as guides, were galloping back to- 
 wards the hacienda at which Shelby was 
 fortified and fighting. Each American 
 iiad been supplied with a splendid horse 
 by Douay, and although they had ridden 
 ten leagues the night before, they press- 
 ed on indifferent to fatigue and imperv- 
 ious to the demands of sleep. 
 
 It was time. Shelby, of his 
 whole force of twenty men, had 
 only fifteen left. Two had been wound- 
 ed, and three had been sent back to San 
 Luis Potosi for succor. Of the wagons 
 he had formed a corral. Between the 
 wheels and in front and rear he had 
 piled up sand -bags. Among the freight 
 destined for Dnpreuil's outpost were 
 several hundred sacks of corn. These 
 were emptied, filled again with sanrt 
 and laid two deei) all about the wagons. 
 No musket ball could penetrate them, 
 and the guerrillas had no artillery. 
 
 A summons came to him for surren- 
 der. 
 
 Shelby parleyed all he could. He 
 dreaded a charge where, from sheer mo- 
 mentum, five hundred sheep might 
 
 overrun, and, perhaps, crush fifteen 
 men. A renegade priest named Ramon 
 Gruitieirez, having the name of a blood- 
 thirsty priest and the fame of a cowardly 
 one, too, commanded the besiegers. Be- 
 fore Shelby would talk of surrender he 
 wanted to see some show of force. His 
 honor did not permit a capitulation 
 without his reason was convinced that 
 to resist would be madness. In otlier 
 words, he wanted on his side the logic 
 and the reasonableness of war. 
 
 Guitierrez took a look at the sand- 
 bags, and thought Shelby's propositions 
 very fair. He took another and a closer 
 look, having in his vision this time the 
 gleaming of fifteen rifle barrels and the 
 rising and falling of rough, hairy faces 
 abov^e the parapets of the hastily con- 
 structed fort, and he concluded to accept 
 it. To be very certain of passing in re- 
 view all the men he had, he marched 
 about in various directions and in the 
 most conspicuous places for several 
 hours — precious hours they were, too, 
 and worth a week of ordinnry time to 
 those who never meant to surrender, but 
 who expected to fight desperately, 
 maybe unavailingly, before the friendly 
 succor came. 
 
 When the parade was over Guitierrez 
 sent word to ask if Shelby would surren- 
 der. 
 
 No, he would not. He had counted 
 some five hundred ill}" armed ranc'heros, 
 and he meant to fight them to the death. 
 Filing at long range commenced. The 
 Americans did not reply to it. The sun 
 was too hot for the kind of work that 
 did not pay in corpses. Emboldened by 
 this silence, the Mexicans crept closer 
 and closer. Here and there a bullet 
 found its way into the fort. Volley an- 
 swered volley now, and then the noise 
 died out into calm, cold, cautious sku- 
 mishing. Shelby had mouutedtwodark-i 
 looking logs at either angle of the cor- 
 ral, and these, from a distance, looked 
 like cannon. It might not be best to 
 charge them, and so Guitierrez crept 
 backwards and forwards until the day 
 wore well on its way. Suddenly he 
 ' gathered together his followers and 
 
AN UKWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 III 
 
 made a little speech to them. It was 
 about four o'clock m the afteruoon. 
 Both Ward and Jones, who bad been 
 wounded the day before, had insisted on 
 holding an embrasure between them. 
 They bad strength enough to load and 
 fire their breech-loaders, and they were 
 not refused. Every bullet counted in 
 the desperate melee. 
 
 With a shiill, short yell the Mexicans 
 dashed forward to the attack. Had the 
 wave held on its course it would have 
 inundated the earthwork. It broke, 
 however, before it reached half way 
 across the open space behind which it 
 had gathered for the onset, Tho.^e in 
 front began to tire too soon, and those 
 in the rear, not seeing from the smoke 
 what was really in front, fired, too, and 
 without aim or object. With unloaded 
 guns they dared not go on— the fii'e of 
 the Americans was distressing beyond 
 endurance— the wave liroke itself into 
 fragments— and the sun sunk lower and 
 lower. 
 
 "•Nearly out of the wilderness, boys,' 
 Shelby said, as his wary and experienced 
 eryes took iu the outline of the spent 
 charge as it made itself cleai- agaiust the 
 range of hills in rear of it. 
 
 "We need water greatly," Kas Woods 
 ejaculated, his mouth parched and his 
 face black with powder-smoke. 
 
 "In an hour yon sliall drink your tiil," 
 replied Shelby , "for in an hour the French 
 will be here." 
 
 "But if Kirtley has fallen." 
 
 "He will not fall. Luck goes with 
 him everywhere. What's that f ' 
 
 He pointed as lie spoke to a. sudden 
 agitation and fluttering among the 
 masses of tlie besiegers, who were now 
 galloping fiuiously to and fro, utterly 
 without a head and heedlessof all threat 
 or command. 
 
 "Ah !" and Shelby's face cleared up all 
 at once, as he turned to Woods, "you 
 can go out for water now, the fight is 
 over." 
 
 Before he had finished, the full, ring- 
 ing notes of the French bugles were 
 heard, and in a moment more the squad- 
 roons emerged from lite trees, galloping 
 
 straight and in beautiful order towards 
 the guerrillas. 
 
 Tliere was no combat after the 
 French appeared. What killing was 
 done was done solely upon those who 
 were too slow in the race, and who 
 could not reach the rocks in time that 
 rose up on three sides as a series of 
 walls that had once been laid 
 with much syinmetr.y and had fallen 
 in rugged yet regular masses in 
 some great convulsiou or upheaval of 
 nature. Nowhere in fair fight was a 
 Mexican cut down, nor at no single time 
 did even a squad rally among the rocks 
 and fire back upon the pursuing cavalr> . 
 The panic at last degenerated into n 
 stampede, while the impeuetrablr 
 groves of cactus shrubs and the broken 
 and uninhabitable couSitiy swallowed 
 up the fugitives. The chase soon ended 
 and tlie French returned. • 
 
 These two rescuing squadrons were 
 led by. Captain Mesillou, whose orders 
 were very full and explicit. He was 
 first to cut Shelby out from the hostile 
 forces which surrounded him, and next 
 to report to Shelby and march whither 
 soever Shelby directed. 
 
 The French rarely put faith in for 
 eign otiicers. Their vanity^ — a kind of 
 national inheritance— recognized no 
 merit like French merit— no supeiiorit>- 
 iu war, politics, diplomncy, love or re- 
 ligion like French superiority. Hence, 
 where Frenchmen are concerned, they 
 invariably insist that Frenchmen shall 
 alone be responsible. In this instance, 
 however, Douay wrote this manner of a 
 note to Shelby : 
 
 "To complete the conquest of Colon;-! 
 Depreuil, of whose bearing to wai'ds you 
 at Parras I have been duly infoimed by 
 Gen. Jeanuingros, I choose that he shall 
 owe his life to you. Capt. Mesillou 
 awaits \ our orders. 1 need not advise 
 you to be circumspect, and to tell you to 
 take your own time and wny to reach Ces- 
 nola and bring my Frenchmen back to 
 me, for whom, I imagine, there is no 
 great love in the hearts of its inhabit- 
 ants." 
 
 Mesillou reported, and Shelby put 
 
112 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 liimself at the head of the Cuirassiers. 
 
 "Siuce Depruil has to come out from 
 Cesnoia^," Shelby remarked to the young 
 Freoch Captaiu, "and since G-en. Douay 
 expects us to make haste and briug him 
 out, these is no need to take our wagons 
 t'urtlier. Guitierrez has Iteen too badly 
 Irightened to return here mucli under a 
 month, and beyond bis forces I can hear 
 of no others in the mountaios round 
 about. We will let tiie wagons, there- 
 fore, remain where they are, for- 
 age arul rest here until the 
 night falls, and then—strengthened 
 and refreshed — cut through, ride down 
 or ride round everything that opposes 
 us. So make these resolutions known, 
 Captain." 
 
 The Frenchman bowed and retired. 
 He saw in a nw.raent that the sohliei" 
 who was talking to him knew more of 
 the wfirfare ahead in a. moment than 
 he had ever seen in his life. He knew, 
 furthermore, tliat if the worst come to 
 the worst, it would not he the fault of 
 the comma,nder it' Deprenil was not 
 lescued. 
 
 The night came and the column start- 
 ed. Between the road where the wagons 
 were left and Cesnola, the entire coun- 
 try was alive with guerrillas. Bevond 
 Cesnola, there were no Isnperial trooDs 
 of any kind, and between Cesnola and 
 S an Luis Potosi there was ueittjer gar- 
 risoned toAvn nor fortified viUage. It 
 was a stretch of ambush sixty miles 
 long. 
 
 When the night came Shelby put him - 
 at the head of his detachment and 
 never drew rein until Cesnola was 
 reached. The column was ambushed 
 seven separate and distinct times and 
 tired upon from hedges-rows, from be- 
 hind houses in viliages thiough which 
 it passed, and from a variety of phices 
 that were inaccessible to the sudden 
 dash of cavalry. Twenty-eight French 
 soklicrs were killed and wounded. 
 Twice the Captain solicited the privilege 
 of making a charge upon the nuseen 
 enemy crouching by the roadside, a.ud 
 tv\'ice he was refused. 
 "You lay too much to lieart these 
 
 mosquito bites," Shelby said to 
 him kindly, "when there is dan- 
 ger of centipedes and tar;intulas 
 before we are done with it. A man is 
 bound to fall out here and there, hard 
 hit and may be killed, buc the balance 
 wall be enough to get through. When 
 one gets surrounded as Deprueil has 
 done, one must expect to pay the pen- 
 alty of the rescue. Sometimes it is ex- 
 tremely costly, but the night favors us 
 and there is no moon. Keep with your 
 men, Captain, encourage them, expose 
 yourself freely in front of them, talk to 
 them calmly, and my Avord for it you 
 shall reatih Cesnola with fewer deple- 
 tions in your ranks than if yon charged 
 into the unknown every time a musket 
 volley came from it." 
 
 Deprenil did not know of his danger. 
 The succoiring party appeared to him as 
 an apparition. Well fortified at Ces- 
 nola, and having at his command no 
 cavalry with which to ascertain what 
 existed beyond the range of his cannon, 
 he eat, and slept and drank absinthe 
 with the same nonchalance his life in 
 Parras manifested. Safe for the day, he 
 took no thought of the morrow. He was 
 one of those officers wlio believed that 
 one French battalion was stronger than 
 destiny — more powerful than fate. 
 
 Meoillou awoke his reveiie rudely. 
 When there had been explained to hinj 
 all the rislv Shelby had lun in getting 
 cavalry to him, how he had fought, and 
 marched, and phmned, and endured 
 solel}^ for his sake and for the sake of 
 humanit3^, Depreuii's heart softened 
 quickly. He came to Shelby as one who 
 felt that he had a gi eat debt of grati- 
 tude to repay, and took his hands in 
 both of his. 
 
 ''Never mind the past," he com- 
 menced, "nor the rude things said aud 
 done in Parras. I see it all now. Per- 
 haps I owe my life to you — certainly the 
 liv^es of many of my soldiers, for whom 
 I am responsible. In future let us re- 
 member each other only as brave men 
 and soldiers. I, too, like Captain Mes- 
 illon, put myself under your ordeis. 
 When shall we evacuate Cesnola f' 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 Shelby had his revenue at last— that 
 kind of revenge which is always sweet 
 to noble minds— the revenge of return- 
 ing good for evil. He answered him : 
 
 " Would you take your heavy cannon 
 with you V 
 
 "I don't know. Would you ?" 
 
 "In. my military life I never left a tro- 
 phy in the hands of my enemies. Were 
 I a Frenchman I would surely cany oft* 
 my French guns." 
 
 "Then in a day we can march." 
 
 "Let it be so, but make haste, Colonel. 
 This country breeds guerrillas as the 
 marshes do miasma." 
 
 Still leading, Shelby came away from 
 Cesnola in command of the whole 
 French force. Depreuil's men won- 
 dered a little, but Depreuil, in the 
 height of his gratitude, thought no com- 
 pliment sufficiently high to pay the 
 rough-clad, quiet American fighter, who 
 did not even so much as have a red sash 
 around him as insignia of rank or 
 autliority. 
 
 Fighting commenced almost as soon 
 as the evacuation of Cesnola took place. 
 Heading always the Americans and C uir- 
 assiers in person, however, Shelby was 
 enabled by several sudden and bloody 
 repulses to put such a wholesome fear 
 of punishment in the minds of the pur- 
 suers that they gave him ample time to 
 carve out for the train a safe road in 
 front while protecting amply the peri- 
 lous road in the rear. 
 
 For three days and nights he held on 
 his course, fightiog constantly and ear- 
 ing alike for his dead and his wounded. 
 The morning of the fourth day brought 
 him to the French lines of San Luis Po- 
 tosi and to an ovation. Gen. Douay 
 turned out the whole garrison under 
 arms, and, as the detachment which had 
 been doing garrison duty at Cesnola 
 marched in— worn by much fighting — 
 weary from long marching — dusty and 
 faint, yet safe and victorious— it was 
 saluted with sloping standards, presented 
 arms, and the long, exultant roll of tri- 
 umphant music. 
 
 In the evening Douay called upon 
 Shelby. 
 
 15A 
 
 "I have come to reward you," he saiti, 
 in his usual bluff and sententious man- 
 ner, "and would be glad to know your 
 price." ,^ 
 
 "Your iriendship, simply," was the 
 reply of the proud American. 
 
 "That you already have," the good old 
 General continued, "but you are poor, 
 you are an exile, you can have no refuge 
 more in this country when it is known 
 that you rescued a French garrison, you 
 have been turned aside from your busi- 
 ness as freighter, and I demand the 
 privilege of paying you at least for your 
 time, and for your losses in mules and* 
 wagons." 
 
 "Very well, General," Shelby replied , 
 "but as you are leaving the country you 
 must wait until we meet again in the 
 City of Mexico. Until then remember 
 your promise." 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 In the short space of time accorded to 
 him between the reception of the orders 
 brought for the withdrawal of tlie 
 French troops and their actual accom- 
 plishment, Maximilian did the work of 
 one who meant to fight a good fight for 
 his kingdom and his cause. And yec 
 for the great superstructure he tried so 
 hard to rear and decorate, the poor man 
 had never considered a moment about 
 its foundation. He had no standing 
 army— nothing to rely upon when the 
 French left that was real and tangible- 
 nothing that was frank and manly, and 
 that would take him boldly by the hand 
 and say : "Sire, we are here ; trust us a 
 you would yourself." 
 
 V/hen that sudden dash of cavalry, 
 which drove Juare?: across the Rio 
 Grande and into Texas, had spent itself, 
 and when it was believed that there 
 was no longer in the land either a regu- 
 larly armed or regularly organized force 
 of Liberal soldiers, the celebrated black 
 flag order was promulgated. This law 
 — based upon the declaration that Ju- 
 arez had left the country, and that eon 
 sequently there could be no longer in 
 existence any regularly constituted gov- 
 
H4 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 ernmeBt— required all Mexicans cap- 
 tured with arms in tiieir hands after the 
 date, of the decree— October 3d, 1865— 
 to be summarily put to death. Maxi- 
 milian resisted its i)ass-^,i?e to the last, 
 but Bazaine was inexorable. He ap- 
 peared before the Council of State and 
 declared upon his ofiiciai honor that Ju- 
 arez had left the territory of Mexico. 
 He complained of the leniency shown 
 to tiie guerrilkis, and cited numerous in- 
 stances to prove how French soldiers, 
 captured on detached service had been 
 « first tortured and then most brutally 
 • murdered, while those Mexican prison- 
 ers tried under the ordinary forms of a 
 court-martial, had either been punished 
 lightly or suffered to escape altogether. 
 Bazaine triumphed, as he always did 
 when brought in contact with the soft, 
 pliable nature of tlie Emperor, and al- 
 most immediately after the decree 
 was issued, there was enacted under 
 it a fearful obedience. General Men- 
 dez, one of the few Mexicans really 
 and sincerely devoted to Maximilian, 
 was holding the enemy in awe ia the 
 State of Morelia. Of a sudden he turn- 
 ed upon a guerrilla force, routed it, cap- 
 tured well on to a hundred, shot them 
 all, and proclaimed in triumphant lan- 
 guage that such should be the fate of all 
 who came within reach of his hands. 
 Among the slain were General Arteaga 
 and Colonel Salasa. Arteaga was what 
 was rare in Mexico, a genuine humorist. 
 Corpulent, fair though born in the trop- 
 ics, fond of laughter and wine, in no 
 wise cruel or vindictive, a soldier from 
 necessity rather than inclination, a 
 judge whose decisions were always in 
 favor of the guilty, it did seem a siu to 
 shoot the great, harmless, laughing 
 gourmand who told his jokes much 
 oftener than his beads, and had a wliole 
 regiment of friends in the very ranks of 
 the French army itself. Other execu- 
 tions took place in other portions of the 
 Empire, and when the Emperor found 
 that he could no longer resist the tide of 
 blood that had set in, he quarreled with 
 Bazaine. The Marshal was firm, how 
 ever, and the Emperor fled to Cuernav- 
 
 aca. This was a small town forty miles 
 southwest from the City of Mexico. It 
 had the deliciously blended climate of 
 the tropical and the temperate latitudes. 
 It was summer in the day and autumn in 
 the night-time. Maximilian had a re- 
 treat here, and thither he would go 
 when State cares pressed too heavily 
 from without and little spites and piti- 
 ful envies and jealousies from within. 
 He had a house there and a garden, and 
 among his books and his flowers he held 
 loving converse with the past and the 
 present — the great who had passed away 
 from earth and the beautiful which still 
 remained. From these communions and 
 reveries he would return a more patient 
 and a more gentle man. 
 
 The shooting went on, however, and 
 Mendez and Miramou obeyed the decree 
 with a persistence characteristic solely 
 of the Spanish blood. 
 
 As the French lines contracted, the 
 skeleton regiments and brigades of 
 Juarez were fully recruited. In many 
 places those Mexican troops who 
 were in the service of the Em- 
 pire were turned upon and 
 and beaten. At other times they ran 
 without a fight, throwing away their 
 arms and disbanding in hopeless and 
 helpless confusion. Nowhere in the 
 whole Imperial army was there an or- 
 ganization worth its uniform save and 
 alone those few Austrians and Hun- 
 garians personally devoted to the Em- 
 peror and calmly resolved to die. If at 
 anytime Shelby's conversation ever re- 
 curred to him, he made no sign. He saw 
 probably, and felt more keenly than 
 any one thei e the need of the American 
 corps Shelby could and would have re- 
 cruited for the asking, but even in the 
 death hour, and in front of the ruined 
 wall at Queretero, he died as he had 
 lived — a martyr to his belief in the sin- 
 cerity of Mexican professions. 
 
 Of a sudden, and at one merciless 
 blow, Sonora was wrenched from the 
 crrasp of the Empire. The French had 
 already abandoned it, but an Austrian 
 devoted to the Empire, Gen, Landberg, 
 held it for his Majesty, The forces 
 
AN UNAVRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 II' 
 
 Tinder his coramand were composed al- 
 most exclusively of Mexicans. Some 
 few comDanies of these had American 
 officers. One in particular was com- 
 manded by a young Confederate, Capt. 
 W. M. Burwell, who was from the Val- 
 ley of Virj;inia, and who had won liigh 
 honor in Pelham's memorable artillery. 
 He was only twenty, and had a face 
 like a school girl. Tall, gentle in aspect 
 and manner, witti deep blue eyes and 
 raven hair that curled and shone, he 
 came into the Empire a boy adventurer, 
 seeking fame and service in a foreign 
 land. The Princess Iturbide, when the 
 Valley of Virginia was a Paradise, had 
 visited at his father's house and had 
 looked in admiration into the blue eyes 
 of the beautiful boy. This boy, not yet 
 a man, and the smoke of Virginia bat- 
 tle-fields not yet gone from his long 
 black hair, came to the country of the 
 Princess and to her palace by the Ale- 
 meda. When he came out from her 
 presence he was a Captain. He put on 
 bis uniform and came among his com- 
 rades in those few brief days, before the 
 marching, a young Adonis— lithe, su- 
 perb, a little Norman in feature, having 
 red in his cheeks and dark in his hair. 
 
 All day had the battle ebbed 
 and flowed about the'port.of Guaymas. A 
 swart, tierce southern sun, coming in red 
 from the ocean, got hotter and hotter, 
 and by high noon it was blistering in 
 among the foot hills that held the thin 
 handful of Laudberg's dissolving army. 
 Beautiful on the crest of the darkening 
 conflict stood the young Virginian, no 
 air brave enough anywhere to blow out 
 the curls of his clustering hair, no succor 
 anywhere near enough to save the 
 flushed cheeks from the gray and the 
 pallor of the death that was near. Land- 
 berg fell in the thick of the fight, cheer- 
 ing on his men who had fought well for 
 Mexicans, but who had fought for all 
 that as men wlio had no hope. A 
 Frenchman, Col. De Marsang, rode to 
 the front. The army was falling to 
 pieces. On watch in the port of 
 Guaymas two French frigates had been 
 waiting since the sunrise. There stood 
 
 safety and refuge for the shivered rem- 
 nants when once well extricated from 
 the coil that Landberg had failed to 
 break, but how get tlirough. De Mar- 
 sang spoke to Burwell, saluting: 
 
 "Will your men charge"?" 
 
 "It may be. Colonel. Your orders." 
 
 "Yonder is a battery on a hill," point- 
 ing as he spoke to foursixteen-pounders 
 massed upon an eminance that com- 
 manded the only read of retreat to 
 Guaymas, "and it is scant of supporters. 
 Silence it for a brief naif hour and what 
 is left of Landberg's loyal followers 
 shall be saved." 
 
 Burwell drew his sworu. He spoke t'> 
 his men very gently. He put himself at 
 their head. There was a sudden rush of 
 some fifty or sixty desperate soldiers— a 
 mass of blue and flame and dust and 
 faiy—the great roar of the guns broke 
 huais'^ and loud above the shrill, tierce 
 cheer of the men, and the road was 
 clear. 
 
 They brought him back from th^ rout 
 of the canuoniers with a film on the blue 
 eyes and white in the pallid cheeks. He 
 spoke not neither did lie make moan. 
 To-day in Guaymas there are yet those 
 who cross themselves and tell witb 
 bated breath about the charge of the 
 mvy bonitfi Americano. 
 
 Sonora was thus lost to Maximilian, 
 and all the coast hordeiiug upon the 
 Pacific. In the north, department after 
 departement was abandoned by the 
 French, and at Matamoras, after a 
 bloody siege and a desperate combat at 
 the end, Mejia— an Indian of pure blood 
 and truer and braver than all the multi- 
 tude of Castilian flatterers who blessed 
 the Emperor and fled from him when 
 the darkness came— cut his way out 
 from environment and fell back wearily 
 and hard bestead towards Monterey. 
 In the passage out through the lines of 
 Escobedo's army, an American squadron 
 died nearly to a man. It had been re- 
 cruited upon the Rio Grande, and was 
 composed equally of those who had 
 served in either the Federal or Confed- 
 erate army. Its Captain, Hardcastle, 
 was one of Hooker's best scouts : one 
 
ii6 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 Lieutenant, Inj^e, had made himself a 
 name witli Mosby; anolber, Sarsfield, 
 an Irisbman from Memphis, had killed 
 a comrade in a duel in Georgia, and had 
 fled as it wore from a spectre which pur- 
 sued him; seven of the privates had but 
 an arm apiece; all had seen long and 
 desperate seivice — all were soldiers who 
 seemed to have no home and no coiin- 
 try. 
 
 Children of the war, what a life histo- 
 ly many of them had. It is related of 
 the little baud that, tlie ni^ht before 
 Mejia began the work that had need to 
 be ended speedily, they exchanged with 
 one another the secret of each heart. 
 Sorrows had come to the most:. o£ thera, 
 and memories that were too sad for re- 
 pining, too bitter for tenderness or tears. 
 A boy was there not yet twenty. He had 
 been a soldier under Lee and bad loved 
 a woman older and wiser than himself. 
 One day he told her all and she laughed in 
 his beardless face a laugh that went 
 deeper than any word of cold contempt 
 or stern refusal. He was too young, she 
 said. He knew she meant too poor. 
 The morning after the interview, while 
 it was yet dusky and dim in the East, a 
 firm, set face was turned fair to the 
 South, and James Eandolph had left his 
 native land forever. Among the fore- 
 most in the charge, and when the force 
 of the squadron had spent itself, he was 
 taken up dead from among the feet of 
 the horses, happier than he Iiad been, 
 perhaps,siuce the parting months agone. 
 
 One was there because a life of p^-ace 
 had become intolerable. Hardcastle, a 
 born soldier, fought for the love of the 
 strife; Inge to better his fortune; Sars- 
 field to exorcise a memory that made 
 Ills sensitive life a burden; a few for 
 greed and gain; not any one for hatred 
 or revenge. 
 
 Mejia loved his Americans, and had 
 done a general's part by them. None 
 rode finer horses — none displayed more 
 servicable arms. What thej^ had to do 
 they did, so terribly that none ever rose 
 np to question the act. On guard, they 
 were never surprised; on their honor, 
 they never betrayed; on duty they never 
 
 knew an hour of rest; on the foray, they 
 kept a rank no stress had ever yet des- 
 troyed, and in the fight, when others 
 halted or went forward, as those who 
 grope, these— grim, silent, impassible as 
 fate — rode straight on. liesisted, very 
 well. Overpowered, stiii very well. Cut 
 to pieces — that might be. Having 
 shaken hands with life, what meant a 
 few days more or less to all who saw the 
 end approaching. 
 
 Escobedo had surrounded Matamoras 
 with about 25,000 troops— not good 
 troops, however, but hard to dislodge 
 from the fortifications in which they 
 had encased themselves. To get out, 
 Mejia had to cut his way through. I'he 
 American squadron went first. There 
 was a heavy fog that had blown in from 
 the Grult: on the morning of the venture 
 —so heavy, indeed, that the first files 
 could not see the third files, nor the 
 third the fifth, nor the Captain his Lieu- 
 tenants in their places behind him. 
 
 No matter ; a squadron like this did 
 not need the sunlight in which to die. 
 
 It took an hour of furious work to 
 open the only road between Mejia and 
 Monterej' — between a massacre as fero- 
 cious as the nature of the bandit, Esco- 
 bedo, and the succor of Jeanningxos' 
 Zouaves marching twenty leagues iu 
 twenty hours to the rescue. Out of 
 seventy-two— rank and file — only eleven 
 escaped free and scatheless. Afterwards, 
 in relating the story of the escape. 
 Gen. Mejia remarked seatentiously 
 to Gov. Eeynolds : 
 
 "To maintain an Empire it is neces- 
 sary only for a score of regiments, such 
 as the squadron that charged at my com- 
 mand nine separate times, losing always 
 and always closing up." 
 
 To-day it is doubtful if any man 
 
 knows where even one of the heroes 
 
 lies buried, nor aught of his inner life, 
 
 nor anything of why or how he died. 
 
 "So much the leaden dice of war 
 
 iJo make or mar of character." 
 
 In the height of the tide of evacuation, 
 Maximilian turned his eyes ouce more 
 iu the direction of the Colonists. A 
 French Baron, Sauvage by name, and an 
 
AX UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 117 
 
 Englishman in finaoco and education, 
 obtained from tlie Emperor a grant of; 
 land as large about as the State of Del- 
 aware. Jfc was rare and valuable land. 
 It grew Indian-rubber trees and ma- 
 hogony trees. It was ia the tropics.and 
 it was fertile beyond all comparison. 
 The Tuspau river ran through the 
 grant diagonally from northwest to 
 southeast. It had a seaport— Tampico 
 — where the largest vessels might lido 
 at anchor, and where only in the unnsu- 
 aliy sickly years did the yellow fever 
 come at all. 
 
 Several tribes oC Indians inhabited 
 tliis sccfiou of the Empire— mostly igno- 
 rant and unknown Indians— yet suppos- 
 ed to be friendly and well-disposed. 
 At least the death of no white man had 
 been laid at the door oi: any of the 
 tribes, probably from the fact that no 
 white man had ever been among them. 
 
 Sauvage dreaded Indians because he 
 had never dealt with them. He was a 
 cultivated and elegant gentleman. He 
 loved to linger long at dinner and late 
 over the wine, to take his ease in his 
 own way and to protect his person. He 
 wanted a partner who — used to peril and 
 privation— would not object to the life 
 of a pioneer. Shelby was recommended. 
 Freighting was no longer pleasant or 
 profitable. Concentrated now princi- 
 pally in the cities the French did not at- 
 tempt to patrol the 'roads nor to afitbrd 
 protection to those who lived away from 
 the garrisoned towns and who needed 
 protection. As a consequence, Shelby 
 and his partner, Major McMurty, dis- 
 posed of such stock as was left to them 
 after the rigors of the lainy season jind 
 cast about for other work neither so dif- 
 ficult nor so uncertain. 
 
 Shelby met Sauvage, and when the 
 interview was over a scheme of coloni- 
 zation was formed which needed only 
 time to have added to the empire a bul- 
 wark that might have proved impregna- 
 ble. Surveyors under the charge of 
 Major R. J. Lawrence, once a resident of 
 Kansas City, were dispatched immedi- 
 ately to the granted lands. A railroad 
 from Tampico to Vera Cruz was pro- 
 
 jected and a subsidy at the rate of twen- 
 ty thousand dollars per mile pledged by 
 the Emperor. With Shelby to plan was 
 to execute. Two hundred men were 
 employed before the ink of the alliance 
 between himself and Sauvage was 
 scarcely dry. Taking passaere in a rick- 
 etty schooner to Havana, Shelby bought 
 a seaworthy sail boat there and loaded 
 the boat at once with American plows, 
 harrows, railroad tools of all kinds, and 
 staple provisions enough for a summer's 
 campaign. At the same time he also 
 flooded Texas and Arkansas with his 
 circulars setting forth the advantages 
 of the Tuspan country, its immense re- 
 sources, the benefits a colonist might re- 
 ceive from a location there, and giving 
 also the nature and quality of the soil, 
 its products, and the average price per 
 acre under the Imperial decree confirm- 
 ing the grant. The circular soon begot 
 an interest that was intense. Twenty 
 families in a neighbor would unite and 
 send an agent forward to investigate 
 the prospects of the colony. Meanwhile 
 the railroad was commenced. From 
 Havana Shelby went to Vera Cruz 
 where he purchased another schooner 
 belonging to the French fleet of obser- 
 vation in the harbor. Bazaine was in 
 the city when he arrived in port. He 
 went straight up to his hotel and spoke 
 to him thus: 
 
 "Marshal, we have taken upon our 
 hands much work. We Jiave 
 farming implements of all kinds, but 
 we have no guns. Give us arms and 
 ammunition. Your army of occupation 
 has recently been supplied with Chasse- 
 pots, and it is not yourintention to take 
 your old muskets back to France. Some 
 you will sell, some you will destroy, and 
 some you will give away. Give me, 
 therefore, five hundred of your most 
 serviceable, and ball cartridges enough 
 for a six month's siege, and when you 
 hear of our colony again you will hear 
 of a place as promising as the scheme of 
 your Emperor in Africa." 
 
 Bazaine listened to this frank volubil- 
 ity as one does to something he has but 
 rarely heard in his life, smiled, shrugged 
 
iiS 
 
 SHELBY' S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 his shoulders, but <?ave the order just the 
 same. Before the sun set, Shelby was 
 sailing out from the harbor and past the 
 dark battlements of San Juan d'Ulloa, 
 the owner of half a thousand elegant 
 liuns, a great store of ammunition, and 
 a faith in the future that amounted with 
 him to an inspiration. 
 
 The Americans flocked to him from 
 every direction. His name and his fame 
 seemed a talisman. As fast as they ar- 
 rived he armed them, and it was well 
 that he did so. A tribe of Indians, the 
 Tolucas, owning lands directly on the 
 northern boundary of the grant, grew 
 jealous of a sudden at the growing 
 colony, and sought to exterminate it. 
 There were bad Mexicans among them 
 who did the scheming and the plotting, 
 and one rainy night a foray of eleven 
 hundred dashed down upon the out- 
 T>osts. Shelby was with his surveying 
 party at the time — a little detachment 
 scarcely thirty strong. These fortified 
 themselves behind a breastwork of logs, 
 and fought until the settlement could 
 be aroused. When the reinforcements 
 were all up, Shelby massed them com- 
 pactly together, and dashed down upon 
 the invaders. They fought badiy, and 
 soon broke and fled. For thirty long 
 and weary miles he followed them 
 through swamj) and chaDparal, over ra- 
 vines and rivers, by day and by night, 
 killing what came to hira — sparing, 
 naught that fell in his way. Weary, the 
 men declared tlie work done well 
 enough. He ordered them forward 
 ■fiercely. 
 
 "What," he cried out, ''is the neces- 
 Bity of doing to-morrow, or the next 
 day, what could be so well done to-day. 
 The colony is young, it is hated, it has 
 been in perpetual ambush ; it must have 
 over it a mantle of blood. Forward, 
 and spare not." 
 
 The blow dealt the Tolucas was a 
 terrible one, but it was necessary. 
 Thereafter they traded ia peace with 
 the whites, and maintained the alliance 
 unbroken until the colony itself was de- 
 stroyed, and the Americans driven out 
 from all part or lot in the country. 
 
 Through no fault of any American 
 there, however, the colony did not live. 
 Shelby did the work of a giant. He was 
 alcalde,magistrate,patriarch, contractor, 
 surveyor, physician, interpreter, soldier, 
 lawgiver, mediator, benefactor, auto- 
 crat, everything. All things that were 
 possible were accomplished. Settlers 
 came in and bad lands given them. The 
 schooners were loaded with tropica! 
 fruits and sent to New Orleans. When 
 they returned they were filled with em- 
 igrants. The railroad took unto itself 
 length and breadth and crept slowly 
 through morass and jungle toward Vera 
 Cruz. Disease also decimated. The rank 
 forests, the tropical sun, the hardships 
 and exposures of the new and laborious 
 life told heavily against the men, and 
 many whom the bullet had spared, the 
 fever finished. The living, however, 
 took the place of the dead, and the work 
 went on. 
 
 One day news came that the French 
 garrison at Correzetla had marched at 
 sunset for the capital. Of all the good 
 five hundred foot and horse not even so 
 much as a saber or asabretash remained 
 to hold the mountain line between the 
 guerrillas of the South and the little 
 handful of pioneers hewing away iu the 
 wilderness of mahogony, toiling by day 
 and standing guard by night. It could 
 not be far to the end. A sudden irrup- 
 tion of robbers, quite two thousand 
 strong, poured through the gaps in the 
 broken and higher country, and drove 
 rapidly in all the outlying posts along 
 tbe frontier. If any settler there, tarry- 
 ing late to save from the wreck what- 
 ever was valuable or dear to him, fell 
 into their hands, it was a rope, a 
 dog's death, and a grave that hid in it 
 neither coffin nor shroud. Death to the 
 Gringo came on every breeze that swept 
 to the sea. 
 
 Shelby knew that the beginning of the 
 end was at hand, and that he had great 
 need to bring back from the overthrow 
 all that was worth a stroke for rescue. 
 He met this last danger as he had met 
 all others, with arms in his hand. He 
 massed once more his movable CDlumns 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 119 
 
 and fought as he fell back in front of 
 his sick and his helpless, dealluj? such 
 blows as became one who felt tbat the 
 sun had been turned away from bim, 
 and that thereafter it would be neither 
 a cloudless sky nor a peaceful twilight. 
 
 The citizens rose in the town of Tani- 
 pico when it was known that the French 
 had retired, and seized upon the 
 schooners at anchor oft the bar. Some 
 among their crew made battle and died 
 in vain and in discbarge of a duty tbat 
 had neither country nor cause to remem- 
 ber and reward it. When the vessels 
 were burned their corpses were thrown 
 headlong into the sea. Nothing sur- 
 vived the inundation. The fields were 
 all laid waste the habitations were all 
 pillaged and ttestroyed, what remained 
 of the farming implements were broken 
 to pieces, the luxuriant growth of the 
 tropics sprang up in a night as it were, 
 and hid the work of the devoted colo- 
 nists. There was a moment of savage 
 exultation over the wreck and the 
 ruin of the beautiful valley and 
 to-day all the magniticent laud watered 
 by the Tuspan river lies out under 
 the sun, a waste place and a wilderness. 
 Worn by long marching and fighting, 
 the survivors found refuge at last in 
 Cordova, homeless, penniless, and stran- 
 gers in a strange laud. 
 
 And death came, too, to one among 
 the exiles who had cast in his lot in their 
 midst as a Christian hero, and who had 
 fought the fight the hero always fights. 
 Henry Watkins Allen, ex-Governor of 
 Louisiana, and a general of brigade in 
 the Confederate army, was carried up 
 from the lowlands of the Gulf to aie. 
 Shattered by wounds, and broken in 
 health and fortune, he bore so bravely 
 up that none knew, not even those who 
 knew him best, how weak was the poor 
 tried frame, and how clearly outlined to 
 his own vision was the invisible angel of 
 the sombre wings. 
 
 Selected by the Emperor to publish a 
 newspaper in the English language and 
 in the interests of the Empire and col- 
 onization, he had founded the Mexican 
 Times,axid had Inboi-od faithfuUvfor the 
 
 stability of the government and the de- 
 velopment of its mineral resources. Sin 
 gularly gentle and lovable for one so ' 
 desperately brave, ho gave his whole 
 time to tlie labors of his position, and 
 toiled faithfully on in the work taken 
 upon his bauds to do. The Americans 
 looked upon him as an adviser and 
 friend, Marshal Bazaine counseled with 
 him and bestowed upon bim his confi- 
 dence, and Maximilian trusted bim as he 
 would a household officer or aide. His 
 cbaiitles were uuostentatious and mani- 
 fold. Ho delighted in giving bis scanty 
 means, and in keeping from his left 
 hand what his right hand contributed. 
 He wrote boldly and to the point. In the 
 arRiy his record had been one of extra- 
 ordinary daring in a corps where all 
 had been brave. Badly wounded at 
 Shiloh, he kept his saddle until the bat- 
 tle was over, and led his troops the long 
 day through, as though impervious to 
 human weakness or physical pain. La- 
 ter, at Baton Eouge, under B reckon - 
 ridge, he had made a charge upon a bat- 
 tery the fame of which filled the West. 
 The guns were taken in the teirific con- 
 test, but Allen was lifted up from among 
 his horse's feet, maimed, inert, speech- 
 less, almost dead. Three bullets from 
 a canister shot had penetrated both leg:>. 
 shattered the bones of one of them, and 
 wounded him so desperately that foi 
 five months it was an almost hopeless 
 struggle for life. To the last he was a 
 sufierer and an invalid. 
 Having occasion to visit Vera Cruz on 
 } business during the height of the yel- 
 low fevtr, the hand of death was laid 
 gently and silently upon him, and he re- 
 turned to the City of Mexico to die. 
 The conflict did not last long. What 
 could the emaciated soldier do in the 
 grasp of one so relentless and so fierce ? 
 The old wound bled afresh, and the obi 
 ' weakness had never left him. Bazainc 
 ' sent to him his own physician. All thai 
 ! skill could do was done ; all that ten- 
 derness or affection could suggest was 
 performed. In vain. The good man 
 died as he had lived, in peace with the 
 world and with the good God who had 
 
I20 
 
 SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 afflicted Mm sorely in his own "wise way, 
 and who carried Ins eoul straight to 
 Iteaven. 
 
 The work of evacuation went steadily 
 on. As the French retired, city after 
 city received the Liberals with many 
 demonstrations of joy. In some of 
 these, also, those Mexicans who had 
 sympathized with the Empire were cru- 
 elly treated ; in others they were im- 
 prisoned or shot. The armies of Juarez 
 were recruited by a levy en masse of all 
 capable of bearing arms in the territory 
 overrun by his ragamuffins. American 
 sympathy was not wanting. Whatever 
 in the way of arms, ammunition, sup- 
 plies or clothiug was needed, was boun- 
 tifully supplied. A picked detachment 
 of Californians, three squadrons strong, 
 formed a desperate body-guard for the 
 President. Unquestioning as fate, they 
 did his bidding even to torture and to 
 massacre. They were feared and hated 
 of the nation. 
 
 A blow fell now, and fell suddenly, 
 upon the colony of Caiiota. The name 
 itself, of all names, was the most fatal, 
 and it appeased somewhat the fierce ha- 
 tred of the born robbers and traitors, 
 who hated everything noble or true, to 
 plunder all who were unresisting or de- 
 fenceless, and who had over them 
 the blessing of the stricken woman of 
 Miramar, 
 
 In a night the labor and toil of along 
 year were utterly broken up and de- 
 stroyed. A band of freebooters from 
 the mountains, nearly two thousand 
 strong, poured down through the gap 
 the French had left unprotected, and 
 the pillage was utter and complete. 
 Quite an hundred colonists, males all oi 
 tliem, were captured in the night aud 
 marched far into the gloomy places and 
 recesses of the mountains. Their sufter- 
 ings wero terrible. Barefooted, days 
 without food, beaten with sabres and 
 pricked with lances, some few died, and 
 the rest, after a month of barbarous 
 captivity, made their way back to the 
 French lines, scarcely more than alive. 
 All had been robbed, many had been 
 stripped. Those who survived the 
 
 blow and the thrust were but few— 
 those who were naked were the most nu- 
 merous. 
 
 The blow finished the colony. The 
 farming implements were destroyed, 
 the stock was slaughtered in the fields 
 the cabins were burnt, the growing 
 crops beaten down under the teet of the 
 horses, and what the harrying cavalry 
 spared the winds and the torches fin- 
 ished. Nobody pitied the Americans. 
 In the upheaval of all stable things, and 
 in the ever-increasing contraction of the 
 Imperial circle, what mattered a rob- 
 bery more or less. The days of the col- 
 onists were numbered wlien the French 
 vessel that bore Castelnau anchored oil' 
 the mole at Vera Cruz. 
 
 Still, however, the Americans were 
 here and there in demand. An English 
 company owning valuable silver mines 
 at Pachuca, felt the terror of the 
 French withdrawal, and sought ,for 
 something stronger to rely upon than 
 Mexican manhood. Col. Ilobert C. 
 Wood was in the City of Mexico at the 
 time and was called upon to take com- 
 mand of the Company's forces. These 
 were peons and miners. He recruited 
 in addition a dozen Americans ?nd went 
 down to Pachuca to look after the silver 
 deposits entrusted to his keeping. Vast 
 masses of enormously rich ore, cut off 
 from the seaports because of the revo- 
 lutioD going on in the land, were piled 
 up in huge heaps awaiting shipment. 
 Wood took a look at it all and turned to 
 its owner, an old Englishman, nervous 
 but brave: 
 
 *'How much is it all worthf 
 
 "Well on to a million.'' 
 
 "They will come for it strong, then — 
 the robbers." 
 
 "No, not for the silver ore, but for a 
 ransom. I could stand one, or two, or 
 three among the chiefs and pay them 
 all well, but up among the hundreds it 
 is impossible." 
 
 Wood took command and went to for- 
 tifying. The third day he found him- 
 self surrounded. A summons to sur- 
 render came. Before firing a gua a 
 Mexican always seeks to arrange a ca- 
 
AN UN^VRITTEN LEAF OF THE AVAR. 
 
 121 
 
 pitulation. Palaver, from his own 
 strong term imlabres, means after all 
 nothing but words, words, words, in the 
 rugged old Spanish. Since the com-, 
 raander was not influenced to surrender, 
 he had but one other thing to do— he 
 fought like a tiger. In the end tlie first 
 robber chief was driven away, for the 
 Englishman's habitation was a fort, an 
 arsenal, a store house, and a silver mine. 
 Others advanced to the attack, but 
 Wood held on for three long weeks, 
 fighting every day, and keeping his ov/n 
 right royally. The siege might have 
 lasted longer, but Mendez, an Imperial 
 Mexican, swept down from the Capitol 
 and drove before him like, chaft the 
 robber bands, preying alike upon the in- 
 nocent and the guilty. Col. Wood 
 marched out with the honors of war, 
 the Englishman made his voyage sure 
 to Vera Cruz ; there was no more fight- 
 ing about Pachuca, but there was no 
 no more silver ore as well. 
 
 As the news of reverse after reverse 
 came to MAxi]vnLiAN,he turned once more 
 his despairing eyes toward the Ameri- 
 cans, and sought among them for the 
 nucleus of a corps. He sent for Shel- 
 by, who was at Cordova, and had him to 
 come post haste. Feeling that it was 
 too late, Shelby yet answered the sum- 
 mons with alacrity and presented him- 
 self to the Emperor. 
 
 The interview was brief, but, brief as 
 it was, it was almost sad. 
 
 " How many Americans are yet in the 
 country ?" the Emperor inquired. 
 
 " Not enough for a corporal's guard," 
 was Shelby's frank reply ; "and the few 
 who are left can not be utilized. Your 
 Majesty has put oft' too long" the inaugu- 
 ration of a plan which, while it might 
 not have given you as many soldiers as 
 France, would at least have restored a 
 formidable rallying point and stayed 
 for a time the tide of reverses that 
 is rising all over Mexico. I don't 
 know of two hundred eft'ective men 
 among my countrymen who could be 
 got together before the evacuation is 
 complete." 
 
 " I need twenty thousand," the Em- 
 
 16A 
 
 peror rejoined, as one who talked me- 
 chanically. 
 
 *' Yes, forty thousand. Of all the Im- 
 perial regiments in your service, you 
 cannot count upon one that will stand 
 fast to the end. What are the tidings i 
 In Gaudalajara— desertion. In Colima— 
 desertion. In Durango, Zece.tecas, San 
 Luis Potosi, Matehuala— it is nothing 
 but desertion, desertion. As I came 
 in I saw the Regiment of the 
 Empress marching out. You will 
 pardon me if I speak the truth, but 
 as devoted as that regiment should be, I 
 would call upon your Majesty to beware 
 of it. When the need is greatest its 
 loyalty will be most in doubt. Keep 
 with you constantly all the household 
 troops that yet belong to the Empire. 
 Do not waste them in doubtful battles. 
 Do not divide them among important, 
 towns. The hour is at hand when in- 
 stead of numbers you will have to rely 
 upon devotion. I am but as one man, 
 but whatever a single subject can do, 
 that thing shall be done to the utmost." 
 
 The Emperor mused some little time 
 in silence. When he spoke again it was 
 m a voice so sad as to be almost piti- 
 ful. 
 
 "It is so refreshing to hear the truth," 
 he said, "and I feel that you have told 
 it to me as ©ne who neither fears or flat- 
 ters. Take this m parting, and remem- 
 ber that circumstances never render im- 
 possible the right to die lor a great 
 principle." 
 
 As the Emperor spoke he detached 
 the golden cross of the Order of Guada- 
 lupe from his breast and gave it into 
 the hands of Shelby. 
 
 He has it yet, a precious souvenir — 
 the sole memento of a parting that for 
 both was the last on earth. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 It was in these last days of the Em- 
 piie that Gen. J. A. Early, a noble South- 
 ern Tacitus, came over from Havana'to 
 Mexico. His journey from the United 
 States had been a romantic one. After 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 Lee's surrender at Appomattox Court 
 House, Gron. Early, with the keen eye of 
 a thorough sportsman, had selected a 
 horse in Virginia that in every way suit- 
 ed his ideas of a horse. Above ail 
 things he wanted one full of action and 
 endurance. The ride before him was 
 from ocean to ocean, as it were, from 
 the Atlantic to the Pacific. Having on 
 nothing that would stand in the shape 
 of the uniform of a soldier, and a good 
 enough looking citizen in all except the 
 bronze of his rough campaigning, he 
 rode through Virginia and Iwrth Caro- 
 lina, tlirough Tennessee and Mississip- 
 pi, into Arkansas, and across it into Tex- 
 as, and on through outlying bands of 
 guerrillas and robbers to the port of 
 Matamoras. Sometimes he went hungry 
 for bread. For days together he had 
 no shelter. He spoke but two words of 
 )Spanish, and those contemptuously, be- 
 cause the words themselves expressed 
 so aptly the Mexican's idea of eternal 
 nrocrastination. He got along some- 
 how, however, and made his appearance 
 to the few wlio were left among the 
 Mexicans, as full of the fire of war, and 
 as indifferent to either extreme of for- 
 tune as when amid the echoes of the 
 long and perilous battle he had seen 
 victory come and go, at one time his 
 hand-maiden, at another his Delilah. 
 
 Gen. Early, even then, had written his 
 book reviewing the military campaigns 
 of Sheridan in the Valley of Virginia. 
 Some articles had appeared in the Amer- 
 ican press not exactly between them, 
 but about them. Each had written free- 
 ly of each. Each was a man who fol- 
 lowed up his words, if need be, with 
 blows. He disliked skirmishing very 
 much, that was only skirmishing, so he 
 concluded to go over to Havana and 
 challenge Sheridan. He argued that 
 Sheridan was an Irishman, that he prob- 
 ably would not be averse to the opera- 
 tions of the code, that he was personally 
 brave, and that a shot or two between 
 them, while ifc might not settle a single 
 point at issue, would at least clear up 
 the atmosphere of the correspondence a 
 littie,and round off some of the angular- 
 
 ities of the two antagonistic natures. He 
 was over-persuaded, however, and did 
 not send the challenge. He returned to 
 Canada, published his book, told some 
 very necessary yet unpalatable truths, 
 and has remained on duty ever since, a 
 watchful sentinel over Southern honor 
 as amplified and exemplified by South- 
 ern history. 
 
 Foreigners of all nations ;now began 
 to put each his house in order. None 
 had faith in the empire— none believed 
 that it could survive the shock of the 
 French withdrawal three months. Max- 
 imilian had no money. He was suspi- 
 cioned of the Church. The Archbishop 
 was his enemy. His wife, really and 
 truly his better half, his noble, self- 
 sacrificing, heroic Carlota, was dead to 
 him, to his love, to whatever of triumph 
 or despair the future had in store for 
 him. The dark hour was upon Saul 
 Shrouded in the mental blackness of a 
 great darkness, Maximilian as he al- 
 ways did when he was hard hunted, fled 
 to Cuernavaca. He remained three 
 days, the prey of conflicting emotions, 
 and the one Isolated and desolate figure 
 in a land that had in it the birds and 
 the odors of Paradise. 
 
 When he returned he had taken upon 
 himself a sudden resolution. He would 
 leave the country, too, he had said to 
 some of his nearest followers. The 
 Emperor Napoleon had urged him to 
 retire with the French, the Emperor of 
 Austria had done the same, so had the 
 Queen of England, so had Bazaine, so 
 had everybody, who knew how the 
 scholar^ and the gentleman would at 
 last be destroyed in a contact with brute 
 force, ignorance and cupidity. There 
 can be no doubt whatever of the Em- 
 peror's intention at this time to abandou 
 Mexico. The condition of his wife's 
 health, the attitude of the Catholic 
 Church, his empty treasury, the mutiny 
 and disaiiection among his native regi- 
 ments, the baseness, corruption and 
 falsehood on every hand, so impressed 
 Mm at last that a great reaction came 
 and a great disgust for the people whose 
 cause he had espoused and whose eoun- 
 
AN UNWRITffiN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 123 
 
 try he had endeavored to pacify and re- 
 deem. He retired suddenly to Orizava, 
 a city two days journey towards Vera 
 Cruz. The movement was ominous, 
 and a great fear fell upon 
 those among the Imperialists who had 
 yet the manhood and the decency to 
 thus preserve the semblance of aftec- 
 tion. Generals Miramon and Marquez 
 went to him at once. LoDg consulta- 
 tions followed, and the result arrived at 
 was a decree on the part of the Empe- 
 ror convoking a national Congress, on 
 the most ample and liberal basis, where- 
 in all political parties mightparticipate. 
 On the 12th of October, 1866, the Empe- 
 ror returned to Puebla, one day's jour- 
 ney toward the capital, one day's jour- 
 ney further from the sea-coast. Tlie 
 Imperialists again took courage. On the 
 5th of January, 1867, the Emneror re- 
 turned again to Mexico. 
 
 During his stay in Orizaba, his Majes- 
 ty had a long and confidential interview 
 with Governor Thomas C. Reynolds. 
 He had been in the habit of consulting 
 him upon various occasions, and had in 
 more than one instance followed the ad- 
 vice given by this remarkable, clear- 
 headed and conscientious man. To 
 Reynolds he unbosomed himself fully 
 and without reserve. He dwelt upon 
 the condition of the country and the 
 apparent hopelessness of the effort he 
 was making to maintain himself. He 
 complained that he had no advisers who 
 understood the nature of the surround- 
 ings, and who could give a sensible and 
 patriotic reason for anything. He want- 
 ed sympathy really as much as he did 
 advice, and Reynolds gave him both. 
 He urged upon him the necessity of 
 remaining in Mexico and of dying, if 
 needs be, for his kingdom and his crown. 
 Reynolds also recalled briefly the his- 
 tory of his ancestors, the names great 
 among the greatest of his race, and re- 
 minded him as delicately as possible, 
 yet very firmly, that Hapsburg as he 
 was he had need but of two things— to 
 perish or succeed. There was a sacred 
 duty he owed, first to his name, and 
 then to those other young and daunt- 1 
 
 less spirits who had followed him across 
 the ocean and who could not be aban- 
 doned to be destroyed. Men of the 
 Hapsburg race either conquered desti- 
 ny or were conquered by it iu war har- 
 ness and in front of the tight. Stand- 
 ing or falling, he should head his ar- 
 mies and trust himself, as his ancestors 
 had done before hiui, to the God of bat- 
 tles and the sword. 
 
 Maximilian returned to the City of 
 Mexico, as has been already statt;d, on 
 the 5th of January, 18G6. On the 6th of 
 February, of the same year, the French 
 troops left the capital. The Congress 
 provided for at the Council of Oriziiva. 
 owing to the deplorable condition of the 
 country, did not meet. War was in the 
 land, and rapine, and the slaughter of 
 those who did not resist, nor yet had any 
 arms in their hands. Bazaine. thv nislit 
 before the evacuation of the city, souglit 
 a private interview with the Emperor, 
 and had it granted far into the morning. 
 Asa soldier he reasoned with the Em- 
 peror simply as a soldier. Treating the 
 whole question at issue as one of men 
 and means entirely, he demonstrated 
 how futile all resistance would be, and 
 how utterly impossible it was to main- 
 tain an alien government without an ar- 
 my. Having bis mind made up, hov.- 
 ever, with the fixedness of desperation, 
 Maximilian took no heed of Bazaiue's 
 inexorable logic. The two parted cold- 
 ly, never to meet again, but not as ene- 
 mies. The Marshal pitied the Emperor 
 — the Emperov smiled upon the Marshal 
 In the presence of deatli, the man who 
 can smile and forgive upon earth is al- 
 ready forgiven in heaven. 
 
 If there were any Mexicans now in the 
 empire really devoted to Maximilian, 
 they made no e ttbrt to sustain him. As 
 the French lines receded the lines of 
 Juarez moved up and occupied every- 
 thing. Regiments deserted m a body, 
 garrisoned towns were given up, the na- 
 tive troops would not fight against na- 
 tive troops— all cohesiveness was gone. 
 There was no discipline ; it was dark in 
 every quai i;er, and the time for giants to 
 arise was 1; ;^ar at hand. In this condi- 
 
134 
 
 Shelby's expedition to Mexico ; 
 
 tion of the country Maximilian took the 
 field. 
 
 From the first he led a forlorn hope. 
 The whole Imperial fabric, unsupported 
 by French bayonets, literally fell to 
 pieces. Miramon was defeated in Dur- 
 ango; Mendez had to retreat from the 
 South; Marquez lost Pueblo and the 
 outlying towns about the Capital; from 
 a force amounting to fifty thousand 
 men on paper, Maximilian, all told and 
 when every general and every detach- 
 ment was in at Queretero, could not, if 
 he had tried, have counted nine thous- 
 and soldiers who had faith in the des- 
 tiny of the Empire, and who knew how 
 to die for it. 
 
 On the 13th of February, 1866, the 
 Emperor, leaving Marquez in command 
 of the City of Mexico, concluded to take 
 command of the army m the field. Ac- 
 cordingly, on that day he marched 
 northward. The force under him num- 
 bered barely eighteen hundred, and was 
 composed equally of the three arms, in- 
 fantry, cavalry and artillery. 
 
 The first day's march brought slight 
 skirmishing; on the fourth day the 
 skirmishing grew suddenly heavy and 
 hot, the Hungarians of his body guard 
 made a splendid charge, the road was 
 tolerably well cleared, and on the morn- 
 ing of the 19th, amid the ringing of in- 
 numerable bells and the noisy demon- 
 strations of a vast multitude, the Em- 
 peror entered the city of Queretero. 
 
 It was an historical city, this of Quer- 
 etaro. Fifty-seven leagues from the 
 Capital, it had been founded about the 
 year 1445, and was a part of the Empire 
 of Montezuma I. A Spaniard, Fernando 
 de Tapia, conquered it in 1531, and con- 
 ferred upon it the name of Santiago de 
 Queretaro— or, in the Tarasco idiom, a 
 place where ball was played. 
 
 Ominous christening ! The ball now 
 about to be played was with those iron 
 ones men play with death when death 
 must win. 
 
 The population of Queretaro was 
 fully fifty thousand, and during the war 
 with the United States the Mexican 
 Congress held its sessions there. After- 
 
 wards, in 1848, the commissioners of 
 peace assembled there and signed the 
 famous treaty of Hidalgo. 
 
 The Emperor was no soldier, and yet 
 he believed some fortifications were 
 necessary to protect his inferior force 
 from the greatly superior force he tnew 
 was rushing to overwhelm, him from 
 every portion of the Empire. From the 
 1st of March to the IGth he worked like 
 a grenadier. He rarely slept. He ate 
 as the men did, fared alike with his sol- 
 diers, he appealed to them as a comrade, 
 led them forward as a king, and was 
 beloved beyond all. 
 
 On the 14th of March Gen. Escobedo, 
 at the head of thirty thousand Mexi- 
 cans, moved down from the north and 
 invested the city. Here was one who 
 had never known an hour of mercy; 
 who had iron gray hair ; who was ang- 
 ular and gaunt ; who lived much alont" 
 suspicioned all men, who had been 
 known to have rivals poisoned, who 
 hated the French worse than the Aus- 
 trians, the Americans worse than the. 
 French, and who was a coward. 
 
 On the 14th of March the city was at- 
 tacked — thirty thousand against nine 
 thousand. All day long the Emperor 
 was under fire. At night he took no 
 rest. Brave, modest, gentle, no expos- 
 ure was too great for him — no personal 
 hazard accounted a feather's weight in 
 the scale of the day's doubtful fortunes. 
 Not yet satisfied of his grip upon the 
 town, Escobedo retired worsted. The 
 grim lines of circumvallation, however, 
 grew stronger day by day, and to the 
 siege of the place a tide of soldiers 
 poured constantly in, armed in all fash- 
 ions, ragged, hungry for food, ravenous. 
 It mattered not for guns. They had 
 strength, and they could dig to keep 
 well at bay those who, sooner or later, 
 had to come out or starve. 
 
 Succor was needed, and on the 32d of 
 March, at the head of one thousand 
 mounted men, Gen. Marquez, at the 
 command of the Emperor, started to 
 the Capital. He was to procure men, 
 provisions, and munitions of war, and 
 he was to return within fifteen days. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 125 
 
 All his orders were explicit. If he had 
 not men enough to garrison and defend 
 the City of Mexico, and also to increase 
 his force sufficiently for the defence of 
 Qaeretaro, then was he to abandon 
 Mexico, and return with every soldier 
 and every round of ammunition he 
 could raise, to the head-quarters of the 
 Emperor. The Emperor also conferred 
 upon Marquez the title of Lupar Teni- 
 cnte, or what is usually translated as 
 meaning Lieutenant Gene.ral. It does 
 mean this, and much more. Such an 
 otlicer, in the absence of the sovereign, 
 takes his place, and is recognized and 
 obeyed accordingly. He has the abso- 
 lute power of life and death in his 
 hands, can declare war, appropriate 
 money, make treaties, act, in short, as 
 an absolate and unquestioned autocrat, 
 and then in the end explain nothing. 
 
 Marquez never returned toQueretaro. 
 Was he a traitor ? In the peculiarly ex- 
 pressive language of the race to which 
 he belonged, the answer is only a shrug 
 of the shoulders and a qnien sabe. In a 
 nation of traitors, what matters one or 
 two more or less? Marquez not only 
 did not report, but such were the in- 
 famies of his reign in Mexico, and such 
 the outrages and oppressions he put up- 
 on the people, that many, even in the 
 last sad days of the Empire— many, in- 
 deed, who were faithful and pure of 
 heart — rose up to curse Maximilian, and 
 to rejoice when the couriers came riding 
 southward, telling of how the work was 
 done. 
 
 On the 27th of March a passable sortie 
 was made. Two hundred Austrian 
 Hussars, of the housthold troops, 
 and a squadron or so of Hungarians, 
 dashed across an open held at 
 the charge, capturins two pieces of ar- 
 tillery and two hundred men. 
 
 No succor came from the Capital. 
 Marquez reached the City of Mexico in 
 safety and increased his forces to four 
 thousand soldiers, eight hundred of, 
 whom were Europeans. Instead of' 
 marching immediately northward to 
 Queretero, he marched directly south- 
 ward to Puebla, then held by an impe- 
 
 rial garrison, but closely bescigcd by 
 Gen. Porfirio Diaz. As Manpiez ai)- 
 proached, Diaz stormed the city, en- 
 listed a large proportion of its defend- 
 ers in his own ranks and turned savage- 
 ly upon Marquez, He retreated at firsr. 
 without a battle. Diaz pressed him 
 flercely,|some heavy skirmishing ensued, 
 but in the end all opposition ceased, and 
 the remnant of Maximilian's army coop- 
 ed itself up within the walls of Mexico 
 and surrendered later at discretion. 
 
 On the 14th of April, at Queretero, tiie 
 Emperor's forces made another sortie, 
 taking nineteen guns and six hundred 
 prisoners. It was then his intention to 
 abandon this position and reach Mexico 
 by forced and incessant marches. But 
 upon ascertaining fully the results of 
 the victory, and becoming thoroughly 
 acquainted with its magnitude and ef- 
 fect, he countermanded the order of ex- 
 ecution and tarried yet awhile longer, 
 hoping to hear something that would 
 re-assure him from other quarters. Fi- 
 nally abandoning all idea of succor from 
 the movements of Marquez, he ordered 
 Prince Salm Salm, on the night of the 
 17th, to go in quest of him, ascertain 
 exactly his intentions, arrest and iron 
 him if the need was, and bring back 
 with him every available soldier possi- 
 ble under his command. 
 
 Prince Salm Salm, at the head of five 
 hundred cavalry, sallied out precisely 
 at midnight and advanced probably 
 half a league. Suddenly a tremendous 
 fire was opened upon him from artillery 
 and infantry. Severely wounded in 
 the foot himself, and satisfied from the 
 force in position across his only 
 road of exit that he could not get 
 through, he returned within the lines, 
 baffled and demoralized. 
 
 On the 1st of May still another sortie 
 was attempted. Miramou led this, and 
 led it badly. Two hours of desperate 
 fighting gave him no advantage, and 
 when at last he was forced back, it was 
 with a precipitancy so great as to ap- 
 pear like a rout. 
 
 The cloud of disaster now became 
 darker and nearer. Maximilian bore up 
 
iz6 
 
 SHELBY'S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO ; 
 
 bravely. As long as his private funds 
 lasted, he divided them among the sick 
 and the wounded. Constantly in the 
 front of the fight, and dauntless in 
 the discharge of every duty, he com-, 
 manded, inspired, toiled and faced the 
 inevitable as became the greatness of 
 Lis nature and the magnitude of the in- 
 terests at stake. He commanded scarcely 
 nine thousand men. Foremost ' in the 
 sorties, forming all the forlorn hopes, 
 looking forward to tlie future only as 
 those who had no future, his Europeans 
 died and made no moan. Many near 
 and dear to him had fallen. Some who 
 had followed his fortunes in other lands 
 and on seas full of wonder and peril, 
 tell where could come to them neither 
 friendly hand nor sepulchre. Those the 
 enemy got they mutilated— those who 
 dragged themselves back from the bat- 
 tle's wreck, slowly and painfully, had 
 the prayer of the priest and the last 
 warm grasp of a kingly hand. These 
 were all— but to these poor, faithful, 
 simple-minded soldiers, these were a 
 great deal. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th of May, 
 Maximilian determined, when the night 
 came, to abandon the city of Queretaro. 
 Having yet, however, to arm some 
 three thousand citizens, the evacuation 
 was postponed. On the evening of the 
 14th, Miramon came to the Emperor and 
 suggested to him the importance of 
 calling a council composed of all the 
 Generals of the army. Above all things 
 ifc was necessary to have unity of action, 
 and this could best be done after a full 
 and free interchange of opinion was in- 
 dulged in. The Emperor consented, 
 and in consenting signed his death war- 
 rant. 
 
 Before the consultation was had, the 
 Emperor turned his honest, clear blue 
 eyes upon the face of Colonel Lopez, 
 commander of the Empress' Regiment, 
 and said to him very gently, as he laid 
 his hand, comrade fashion, upon his 
 shoulder, decorated with the epaulettes 
 the Empress herself had braided: 
 
 " Tou need take no concern about the 
 
 march. Your regiment has been detail- 
 ed as my especial escort." 
 
 The Judas smiled as all Judases have 
 done for six thousand years, and went 
 his way to betray him. 
 
 The Generals met during the day of 
 the 14th and resolved to march out from 
 Queretaro at eleven o'clock that night. 
 When the time came the volunteers 
 were still unarmed, and some ot the 
 Generals asked the delay of another 
 day. Gen. Mendez, also, a gallant and 
 devoted officer, being quite unwell and 
 unable to ride, sent Col. Redonet to the 
 Emperor with a petition asking for fur- 
 ther time that he might conquer his 
 malady and lead his old brigade in 
 person. 
 
 Maximilian yielded to these urgent so- 
 licitations and fixed at last positively 
 upon the night of the 15th. 
 
 Full fifty thousand men now invest- 
 ed Quaretaro. Corona, a general of 
 more than ordinary Mexican ability, 
 came down from Durango and joined 
 his forces to those of Escobedo. The 
 lines of investment were complete — 
 fifty thousand besieging nine thousand. 
 
 About the headquarters of Maximilian 
 all was silence and expectancy. Gen. 
 Castillo, of the Imperial staff, conveyed 
 to the various officers, secretly and ver- 
 bally, the orders for the night. No- 
 where did the gleaming of camp fires 
 appear. The infantry were to carry 
 their cartridges and blankets, the can- 
 non upon the fortifications were to be 
 spiked and the magazines flooded. Some 
 eight and ten-pounders, dismounted 
 and packed on mules, together with 
 Jight supplies of grape and cannister, 
 completed the arm of resistance in the 
 way of artillery. 
 
 On the west and directly in front of 
 the lines held by Corona, the entire 
 garrison was to be concentrated. 
 Thence pouring out through the night- 
 surprising, stabbing, bayoneting, gain- 
 ing the rugged defiles of the Sierra 
 Gorda— there was slight work thereafter 
 in laying hands upon succor and safety. 
 
 Twelve hundred armed citizens of 
 Quaretaro weye to remain behind and 
 
AN tnsrWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR 
 
 127 
 
 protect the people and the property of 
 the city as far as migbt be. These, 
 after twenty-four hours had passed, 
 were to surrender to General Escobedo. 
 The Emperor retired at eight o'clock 
 and slept until one. Prince Salm Salm, 
 until twelve o'clock, was busy io ar- 
 ranging the private papers of Maximilian 
 and in packing them in small canvass 
 sacks that might be strapped to the 
 saddles of the escort company. Many 
 were busy in writing words of tender- 
 ness and farewell. As there were no 
 lights, the staft officers assisted each 
 other by smoking cigarettes close to the 
 paper that a few words might be 
 scribbled by the fleeting and uncertain 
 light. 
 
 The sortie might have won. It was 
 the last and only resort of nine thou- 
 sand desperate men who had been 
 starving, who in eleven days had only 
 scant allowances of mule or horse meat, 
 and who had been under fire long 
 enough to be acclimated. 
 
 It was not to be, however. Between 
 one and two o'clock the traitor Lopez, 
 having previously communicated with 
 Escobedo, crept silently from his quar- 
 ters and took his way through the dark 
 and narrow streets of Queretaro. Col. 
 Garza, commanding the advance out- 
 posts of the investing army, met him 
 first. Garza was an honorable soldier 
 who despised the work he was engaged 
 in, and the man who came to him in the 
 midnight, a coward and a traitor. As 
 he advanced to meet him he did not ex- 
 tend his hand, but said curtly : 
 
 "You are expected. Such work as this 
 needs to be done quickly." 
 
 Garza reported with Lopez to Gen. 
 Veliz, a division commander. The 
 three together visited Escobedo and re- 
 turned almostly directly, Garza having 
 been ordered to follow the traitor with 
 his command and do as he was bidden. 
 
 There was a large church on the south 
 called La Cruz, and near this church a 
 hole in the wall of defense. Thither 
 went Lopez, Veliz and Garza. Here 
 Veliz halted, but Garza and Lopez went 
 en. Be it remembered, also, that Lopez 
 
 had been the officer of the day, that he 
 was the highest just then in authority 
 in the city, and that having the pass 
 word, he could arrange the forces at 
 pleasure, and transpose or withdraw 
 posts and outposts as the exigencies of 
 his terrible treason migh demand. 
 
 When the nearest station of Imperial 
 troops was reached, Garza halted his 
 command. Lopez rode forward and 
 asked of the officer on duty if there was 
 any news. 
 
 "None,'' was the reply. 
 
 "Then parade your men and call the 
 roll." 
 
 This was done with militaiy accu- 
 racy and speed. Afterwards the de- 
 tachment was marched to the rear of 
 Garza, leaving him in possession of the 
 fort. The Liberals were in Queretaro. 
 The beginning of the end was at hand. 
 Other Liberal officers were put in pos- 
 session of other posts, and before an 
 hour had passed the treachery was com- 
 plete. As the Liberal forces entered 
 the city, quite a number of the Imperial 
 officers were awake. As they saw Col. 
 Rincon's regiment — a Liberal regiment 
 of some celebrity— march by their bar- 
 racks, they looked out carelessly and 
 took no note. Some of their own troops, 
 they imagined, were going by or getting 
 ready for the sortie. 
 
 By half -past three o'clock fully two- 
 thirds of the city was in possession of 
 the Liberals. Suddenly and with great 
 force all the church bells began to 
 ring. The streets were filled with 
 bodies of armed men. Aides galloped 
 hither and thither. Skirmishing shots 
 broke out in every direction. There 
 I were cries, shouts, the blare of multi- 
 tudinous bugles, and from afar the 
 • heavy rumbling and dragging of ar- 
 tillery. 
 
 Great confusion fell upon the Imperial- 
 ists. Some thought that Marquez had 
 returned, and had attacked and defeat- 
 ed Escobedo. Others, that it was only 
 a fight at the outposts— many, that the 
 short, hot work of the sortie had actu- 
 ally begun. And so it had, with the 
 lines reversed. Lopez had an adjutant, 
 
128 
 
 Shelby's expedition to Mexico ; 
 
 a Pole named Yablonski, who was with 
 him in his treasonable plot, but who yet 
 sought to save the Emperor. Feigning 
 sleep, he had not yet closed his eyes in 
 slumber. All his senses were on the 
 qui vive for tlie ringing of the bells that 
 were to usher in the traged3^ The first 
 echo brought him to his feet — erect, 
 nervous, vigorous. 
 
 Maximilian occupied the convent of 
 La Cruz, and next to the room of the 
 Emperor was that of his private secre- 
 tary, Jose Blasio. Yeblonski went close 
 up to Blasio and whispered : 
 
 " The enemy are in the garden ; get 
 ui. I" 
 
 Half-dressed and heavy with the deep 
 sleep of exhaustion, Blasio staggered 
 into the apartment of the Emperor. In 
 a few moments Maximilian knew all. 
 He was tbe coolest man there, and so sad 
 and so gentle that it seemed as if he did 
 not care to live. The convent was sur- 
 rounded. Castillo, Guzman, Salm Salm 
 and; Padillo, all officers w'ho were quar- 
 tered near the Emperor, walked into liis 
 presence. Padillo informed him that 
 the enemy were in possession of the 
 convent ; that ten pieces of artillery had 
 been taken in its very plaza, and that 
 all defense of the mere building itself 
 was useless. Maximilian very quietly 
 took up a brace of revolvers, handed 
 one to Padillo, and went to the door of 
 his room, followed hj Padillo, Blasio 
 and Salm Salm. " To go out here or to 
 die is the only way," he said, and they 
 crossed the corridor. 
 
 A sentinel at the head of the steps 
 halted them. Maximilian leveled his 
 revolver. An officer of the Liberal 
 army— a brave, chivalrous and heroic 
 Mexican, supposed to be Col. Kincon — 
 struck with a strange and generous 
 pity, cried out to the sentinel : 
 
 "Let them pass; they are citizens." 
 
 In the plaza a line of leveled muskets 
 again came up in front of them. Cap- 
 ture was imminent— or death unknown 
 and ignominious. Again Rincon spoke 
 to tiie soldiers : 
 
 "Let them pass; they are civilians." 
 
 The lines opened and the Emperor, 
 
 followed by his little escort, reached the 
 regiment of the Empress. Lopez, its 
 Colonel and its betrayer, was at its head, 
 mounted and ready for orders. A 
 huge hill. El Cerro de las Campanas, 
 was the rallying point now of Maximil- 
 ian's confused, scattered and demoral- 
 ized forces. Thither he hurried with 
 what was left of this chosen body of his 
 very household's troops. On tbe way 
 Castillo was met, who cried out : 
 
 "All is lost. See, your Majesty, the 
 enemy's force is coming very near." 
 
 Just then a body of infantry was en- 
 tering the plaza. Mistaken in their 
 uniforms, and not aware of the extent 
 and nature of the surprise, Maximilian 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "Thank God, our battalion of Munici- 
 pal Guards are coming." 
 
 Tbe error, however, was soon discov- 
 ered and the little party started again 
 for the hill. El Cerro. Maximilian was 
 on foot. A horse, however, was brought 
 to him which he mounted, reining it in 
 and keeping pace with his companions. 
 Lopez remained close to his side. Pass- 
 ing the house of one Rubio, a rich Mex- 
 ican, though not an Imperialist, Lopez 
 said to the Emperor: 
 
 "Your Majesty should enter here. In 
 this way alone can you save yourself." 
 
 Maximilian refused peremptorily, and 
 issued his orders with singular calmness 
 and clearness. Meeting Capt. Jenero, 
 Gen. Castillo's adjutant, he bade him 
 seek Miramon at once and order him to 
 concentrate every available soldier up- 
 on El Cerro de las Campanas. To 
 another officer he cried out: 
 
 "Go among your men and talk to 
 them. Expose your person and teach 
 them how to die." 
 
 On the summit of the hill there were 
 only about one hundred and fifty men 
 gathered. These, belonging principally 
 to the infantry regiments, had strayed 
 tbere more because of the observation 
 the elevation attbrded than of a knowl- 
 edge that it was the rallying point. Not 
 all of them had ammunition. Some, 
 roused suddenly from sleep, had snatch- 
 ed up only their guns and rushed out 
 
ACS' UNWJRITTSJC LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 t3f 
 
 alarmed into tlie night. Soon tlie 
 cavalry of the Empress anived, and, re- 
 cogui^iing the Emperor, cheered for him 
 bravely. This devotion touched him, 
 and under the light of the stars he was 
 seen to lift up his hat and bow his head. 
 
 Was he thinking of Carlota 1 
 
 Miramon did not come. The firing 
 grew heavier in every direction. Mejia 
 rallying a few men in the plaza del 
 Ayuntamiento followed the regiment of 
 the Empress. As they approached 
 Maximilian spoke to Salm Salm. 
 
 "Eide forward and see if Miramon can 
 not be distinguished among those who 
 are coming up." 
 
 General Mendez, a lion in combat, and 
 so weak from illness as to be put with 
 difficulty upon his horse, was surprised 
 in the Alemedaand surrounded. Would 
 he surrender? Never: and the battle 
 began. It was a carnage— a massacre. 
 His men fell fearfully fast— shot down, 
 helpless, by an unseen and protected 
 foe. A ball broke his left arm. He 
 swayed in the saddle, but he held fast. 
 
 "Bring here a strap!" he shouted, 
 and strap me fast. I want to die in 
 the harness." 
 
 He tried to cut through to El Cerro. 
 Met half way, and caught in a dreadful 
 ambuscade, the slaughter was renewed. 
 Another ball carried away the point of 
 his chin, and yet a third disabled his 
 right shoulder, and yet a fourth killed 
 his horse. Scarcely alive, he was drag- 
 ged out insensible. Reviving a little 
 towards daylight, at six in the morning 
 a fusillade finished him. Among all the 
 Koldiers of Maximilian, he was the no- 
 blest, the bravest and the best.. 
 
 How fared it with Miramon, sound 
 asleep when the traitor Lopez stole in 
 through the battered wall at the head 
 of an insatiable tide swallowing up the 
 tottering and dissolving fabric of Ira- 
 perialiism '? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 Awakened by the ringing of bells, the 
 broken i-attle of irregular musketry, 
 and now and then a cannot shot, Mira- 
 
 J7A 
 
 mou half arose in his bed, cleared hi» 
 eyes from the heaviness of sleep, and 
 spoke calmly to his aid-de-camp : 
 
 " I fear that we are lost. Inside the 
 walls a traitor has surely been at work." 
 
 He dressed himself speedily and de- 
 scended into the street. It was full of 
 soldiers. He imagined that they were 
 his own. He spoke to them and an- 
 nounced his name and rank. An ofiicer 
 on horseback rushed upon him, put a 
 carbine to his cheek and fired. Mira- 
 mon, his jaw-bone shattered and his 
 flesh blackened and powder burnt, 
 swayed backward nearly from his feet, 
 caught himself, lifted himself upright, 
 and killed the officer dead in his saddle 
 who had shot him. Miramon had a de- 
 voted body-guard, and it rallied around 
 him. In the darkness the fight became 
 furious. Striving in vain to reach the 
 hill where he supposed the Emperor was 
 making a desperate stand, and weak 
 from the loss of blood, Miramon stag- 
 gered upon an open door and entered a 
 house. It was the house of Dr. Sama- 
 niegos, who hid him, and kissed him, 
 and, Mexican like, went out into 
 the streets to give his life away. He 
 proclaimed aloud to the Liber- 
 als that Miramon was alone in his house, 
 and that the time was opportune to lay 
 hands upon him. A band rushed in and 
 bound and gagged him, and draggexi 
 him away, suffericg excruciating tor- 
 ture, to the convent of Terrecitas. 
 
 The Emperor, therefore, waited in 
 vain for Miramon— waited in agony and 
 uncertainty until two batteries of San 
 Gregorio and Celaya opened a tremen- 
 dous fire upon his position. Turning to 
 Prince Salm Salm, he was heard to ex- 
 claim from the depths of liis despair : 
 
 "Oh, my friend, would that one of 
 these shells would end it all now and 
 speedily." 
 
 ! Alas! he was reserved for Mexican 
 bullets. 
 
 I Directly, Col. Gonzales galloped up 
 with a portion of a regiment, saluted, 
 and reported the condition of Miramon. 
 Maximilian sighed heavily, rested his 
 I head upon his hands for a few moments. 
 
[^0 
 
 SHELBY S JaXPEDlTIOX TO MEXICO 
 
 and then demanded suddenly of Castil- 
 lo and Mejia if it were possible to break 
 through the lines of the enemy. 
 
 Old Mejia, the small, cool, devoted 
 Indian fatalist and fighter, turned his 
 glass towards the enemy and surveyed 
 them accurately through the night. 
 When he had finished, he merely shrug- 
 ged his shoulders and replied : 
 
 "Sire, it is impossible. If you order it 
 we will try it. For my part, I am ready 
 to die. For fifty years I have waited 
 for this." 
 
 Maximilian then took Padillo by the 
 arm and spoke to him briefly : 
 
 "It is necessary to make a quick de- 
 termination in order to avoid greater 
 misfortunes. Is it surrender f 
 
 "Yes, sire," said Castillo, Padil}o,Gon- 
 zales, and " Yes, sire," said M^jia, in a 
 mad whisper, his head drooping upon his 
 breast. 
 
 Immediately a white flag was lifted 
 up from the top of the hill, and messen- 
 gers were sent at once to Escobedo ask- 
 ing an interview upon the following 
 basis : 
 
 "First — To make Maximillian alone 
 the victim of the war. 
 
 "Second — The men of the army to be 
 treated with the soldierly consideration 
 merited by their valor^and devotion. 
 
 "Third — The lives and liberty of those 
 who were immediately in the Emperor's 
 personal service." 
 
 Before an answer was returned, Max- 
 imilian saw in the distance a small 
 squadron of soldiers, dressed in scarlet, 
 and riding at a rapid speed towards the 
 Campanas. He mistook them for his 
 own Huzzars, and cried out, his voice 
 heavy with emotion : 
 
 "It is too late— they come too late, but 
 see what fearful risk they run to reach 
 me. Look howv'they endure the fire of 
 the batteries. Who would not be proud 
 of such soldiers ?" 
 
 Alas! they were not even a portion of 
 his own decimated yet devoted foreign 
 followers. They were the advance of 
 Ti"eyina'8 robber cavalry, coming to 
 hmit the Emperor. 
 
 As they drew near, the fire slackened, 
 and suddenly ceased altogether. An 
 officer, a captain, rode forward, and 
 with a vulgar and cowardly epithet, de- 
 manded Maximilian. His Majesty, calm 
 as a grenadier on guard, stepped outside 
 the fortification, and replied with much 
 sweetness and dignity : 
 " I am he." 
 
 " Mendez has been shot," this officer 
 continued brutally, " and Miramon, and 
 by and by it will come Maximilian's 
 and Mejia's turn." 
 
 The Emperor did not answer. He 
 pitied the coward who did not know 
 how to treat misfortuue. Sternly bid- 
 ding his subordinate to go to the rear. 
 General Echegarry, a Liberal officer of 
 some humanity, rode to the front and 
 demanded courteously the surrender of 
 Maximilian and his officers. This was 
 at once accorded, the Emperor again 
 exclaiming, "If you should require any- 
 body's life, take mine, but do not harm 
 my officers. I am willing to die if you 
 require it, but intercede with General 
 Escobedo for the life of my officers." 
 
 Presently General Corona rode up, 
 and again the Emperor interceded for 
 his personal adherents : 
 
 "If you want another victim, I am pre- 
 pared to go. Do not harm those whose 
 only crime in your eyes is their devotion 
 to me." 
 
 Corona replied coldly : 
 
 " It does not belong to me to make 
 promises. Until yon are delivered 
 to the General-in-chief in person, your 
 own life and that of your officers will be 
 safe." 
 
 Horses were furnished, and the Im- 
 perialist Generals, Costello, Mejia, and 
 Salm Salm, together with the Em- 
 peror, and the Liberal Generals, Corona 
 and Echegarry, mounted and rode down 
 the hill towards the city. It was not 
 long before Gen. Escobedo was met, 
 when a countermarch was had, and they 
 all returned to the hill again, and into 
 the fort, where they dismounted. 
 
 After dismounting, Maximilian ex- 
 tended his hand to Escobedo. His own 
 never, for a single iustaat. 
 
AN UNWRITTEN iEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 Jll 
 
 seemed to have entered liis mind. His 
 talk was ever of his followers. 
 
 "If you wish more blood," he re- 
 marked to Escobedo, "take mine. I ask 
 at your hands good treatment for the 
 officers who have been true to me. Do 
 not let them be insulted or maltreated.' 
 
 "All shall be treated as prisoners of 
 war, even your Majesty," was the sig- 
 uiticant reply of the Mexican butcher. 
 
 In an hour, with a heavy guard over 
 him— homeless, crownless, sceptreless— 
 Maximilian was a close prisoner in the 
 Convent of La Cruz. At his special re- 
 quest the officers of his household, 
 Prince Balm Salm, Col. Guzman, Minis- 
 ter Aguirre, Col. Padillo, Dr. Basch, and 
 Don Jose Blasio, his secretary, were 
 permitted to be imprisoned in the same 
 building. They remained four days 
 there— three of which the Emperor re- 
 mained in bed, seriously sick of a dys- 
 entery. On the fiftb day they Avere re- 
 moved to the Convent of Terrecitas. 
 After enduring seven days of rigorous 
 captivity in this gloomy abode, they 
 were taken to the Convent of Capuchi- 
 nas, where were also imprisoned 
 all the Generals of the Imperial 
 army. For four days they all remained 
 together on the first floor. On the fifth, 
 Maximilian, Mejia and Miramon were 
 seperated from the rest and imprisoned 
 in the second story. The work of win- 
 nowing had already commenced— so 
 soon and yet so ominous. 
 
 Here the Emperor had leisure to re- 
 view the past, and answer to his own 
 heart the question : Had he done his 
 duty. In his conscience, perhaps, there 
 was little of upbraiding. True, he had 
 committed mistakes here and grievous 
 errors of judgment yonder ; but who is 
 infallible. He had tried to do right, 
 and he had nothing to reproach himself 
 with. No form of speech could express 
 his astonishment at the betrayal of Lo- 
 pez. He had trusted him in all things, 
 confided in him, leaned upon him, lifted 
 him up and promoted him, brought to 
 him the flattery and friendship of his 
 beautiful Empress— and in the one su- 
 prwH* moment of his destiny, in th« 
 
 very hour of the desperate crisis of 
 his life and his reign, this Lopez, thin 
 tawny, fawning, creeping, cowardly 
 thing, surrendered him without so much 
 as a qiuckened pulse-beat, or a guilty 
 and accusing blush. He had been the 
 god-father to Lopez's child. He had 
 laid bare to Lopez the inmost recesses 
 of his heart, and in his last and moat 
 terribl'^ hour to be betrayed when the 
 struggl oe was making was not eveu 
 for himself, was too bad. 
 
 Nor did Lopez lay himself down on » 
 bed of roses when the black treachery 
 was done. His beautiful wife deserted 
 him, and published to all Mexico th« 
 story of his infamy and ingratitude. His 
 children abandoned his household and 
 sought shelter and protection with the 
 mother. On dress parade one day, when 
 an army was on review, a Juaiista Col- 
 onel smote him upon either cheefc , the 
 lazzaroni hooted at him and cried out 
 " el triador! el triadorP'' as he passed 
 along, the very beggars turned away 
 their eyes from him without asking for 
 a,lms, and nowhere could he find pity 
 and charity except in the bosom of 
 that church which, no matter how 
 dark are the stains of blood upon the 
 hands of the sinners, prays always tliat 
 they may be made white as snow. 
 
 The captivity of Maximilian contin- 
 ued. It was rigid, gloomy ,foreboding— 
 a little darker than Spanish captivity 
 generally, because to the cruelty of the 
 original Spaniard, there had been add- 
 ed the cunning and selfish craftiness of 
 the Indian. He was denied all inter- 
 course with his fellows except that 
 which the officials had. His food was 
 coarse, his water not plenty, his sun- 
 light barred out, and his pure air made 
 pestilential because of the filth with 
 which they delighted to surround him. 
 
 Physical depnvations, however, made 
 no way to subdue the lofty pride and 
 the christian heroism and fortitude of 
 his kingly character. His head was yet 
 borne splendidly erect, and in the day 
 or tlie night-time, in a room that was 
 like a dungeon, or in the veatibnlc 
 where the naked and unwashed animaJs 
 
132 
 
 SHELBYS EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 ef sentinels slept, he was the same pa- 
 tient, kindly, courteons gentleman- 
 true to his name, his lineage, and his 
 manhood. 
 
 The half-breed butchers, however, 
 who were soon to try him, and to sit 
 with sandalled feet about a table where 
 military justice was to declare itself, 
 tried first, in Indian fashion, to degrade 
 the victim they meant to torture alive. 
 A proclamation, purporting to have 
 been written by Masimilian, was print- 
 ed in every newspaper in the Empire. 
 It bore no date. It was abject, coward- 
 ly, plausible if a Mexican had written 
 it, a paltry forgery when ascribed to a 
 Hapsburg, and it was as follows : 
 "The Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian, 
 of Hapsburg, ex-Emperor of Mexico, 
 to all of its inhabitants : 
 "Compatriots : 
 
 "After the valor antl the patriotism 
 of the Eepublican armies have brought 
 about the end of my reign in this city, 
 the obstinate defense of which was in- 
 dispensable to save the honor of my 
 cause and of my race ; after this bloody 
 siege, in which have rivalled in abnega- 
 tion and bravery the soldiers of the Em- 
 pire with those of the Eepublic, I am 
 going to explain myself to you. 
 
 "Compatriots : I came to Mexico ani- 
 mated not only with a firm hope of mak- 
 ing you, and every one of you, individ- 
 ually happy, but also protected and 
 called to the throne of Montezuma and 
 Iturbide by the Emperor of France, 
 Napoleon III. He has abandoned us 
 cowardly and infamously, through the 
 fear of the United States, placing in 
 ridicule France itself, and making it 
 spend uselessly its treasures, and shed- 
 ding the blood of its sons and yourown. 
 When the news of my fall and death 
 will reach Europe, all its monarchs, and 
 the land of Charlemange, will ask an 
 account of my blood, and that of the 
 Germans, Belgians, and French shed in 
 Mexico, from the Napoleon dynasty. 
 Then will be the end. 
 
 •^The whole world will soon see Na- 
 poleoij covered with shame from head 
 t« foot. 
 
 "Now the world sees His Majesty, th« 
 Emperor of Austria, my august brother, 
 supplicating for my life before the Uni- 
 ted States, and me a prisoner of war at 
 the disposition of the Eepublican gov- 
 ernment, with my crown and heart torn 
 to pieces. 
 
 "Compatriots: my last word* 
 to you are these ; I ar- 
 dently desire that my blood may regen- 
 erate Mexico; and that as a warning to 
 all ambitiousand incautious persons, you 
 may know how, with prudence and true 
 patriotism, to take advantage of your 
 triumph, and through your virtues en- 
 noble the political cause, the banner of 
 which you sustain. May Providence 
 save you, and make me worthy of my- 
 self. "Maximilian." 
 
 The vile forgery went every where. 
 Ihe soldiers on guard that could read, 
 read it aloud and laughed long and de- 
 risively in the hearing of the Emperor. 
 A copy was brought to him. He wrote 
 upon the back, in pencil, this : 
 
 "I authorize Colonel and Aid-de-Camp 
 Prince Salm Salm to deny in my name 
 this last efiort to disgrace me before 
 posterity. This proclamation is not 
 mine, its sentiments are not mine, its 
 declarations are not true, and these, 
 therefore, certainly cannot be mine. 
 Should Colonol and Aid-de-Camp Prince 
 Salm Salm escape the fate certainly in 
 store for me, he will publish in Europe 
 this my earnest declaration." 
 
 Salm Salm did survive him, and his- 
 tory has given the lie fully to the black 
 plot worthy of the nation that concoc- 
 ted it. 
 
 The trial was a farce. Since the work 
 of the traitor Lopez, there had been no 
 hope for Maximilian. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, May 38, 1867, 
 the fiiends of the Emperor began to 
 bestir themselves in his behalf. Mr. 
 Bansen, the Hamburg Consul resident 
 at San Luis Potosi, the wife of Prince 
 Salm Salm, Baron Magnus, the Prussian 
 Minister, and Frederick Hall, an Amer- 
 ican lawyer, concentrated themselves at 
 Queretaro and laid plans for the aequit- 
 tal of his Majftgty. 
 
AX UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WAR. 
 
 133 
 
 Maxinnlian talked much before Lis 
 trial— the broken and unconnected talk 
 of one who felt without seeing it the 
 shadow of approaching death. He de- 
 clared that he came to Mexico with the 
 sincere belief that he was called to the 
 government by the great masses of the 
 people. After his reception at Vera 
 Cruz he had remarked to the Empress: 
 "Surely the deputation were right when 
 they said a majority of the Mexicans 
 were in favor of our coming to be their 
 ruler. I never in all Europe saw a 
 sovereign received with such enthusiasm 
 us greeted us." 
 
 He put upon Bazaine the responsibil- 
 ity of the decree of October 8, 1865— that 
 decree which reiiuired the execution of 
 all Liberals caught with arms in their 
 hands. Bazaine, he said, appeared be- 
 fore the Council of State and declared 
 that decree to be a military necessity. 
 Juarez was in Texas, although Juarez 
 had always denied having been driven 
 out of the country. On this pomt he 
 was exceedingly sensitive, and because 
 of the statement made by the Emperor 
 that Juarez was no longer in the terri- 
 tory he professed to rule over as Presi- 
 dent, he, the Emperor, was clearly of 
 ,the opinion that Juarez most heartily 
 despised him. 
 
 Maximilian might have gone further 
 and said that to this hatred there tad 
 been added ferocity. 
 
 The Emperor held the Americans in 
 high estimation. He said: "The Ameri- 
 cans are a great people for improve- 
 ments, and are great lovers of justice. 
 They pay such respect to the laws that I 
 admire them. And if God should spare 
 my life, I intend to visit the United 
 States and travel through them. You 
 can always rely oa the word of an 
 American gentleman." I 
 
 Efforts were made to bring the trial i 
 before the Mexican Congress, but it | 
 failed. The cruel Indian Juarez dared 1 
 not trust any tribunal other than the i 
 cotiit martial— one orgaaizedto convict, 
 and one that would therefore be deaf, 
 bliud, and unaparin£-. 
 
 On the morning of June 4th, Maximil- 
 ian remarked gaily to one of his coun- 
 sellors : 
 
 "We must hurry with busineHis. 
 I have been talking with Miramon. H« 
 has counted up the time and says that 
 he thinks they will shoot us on Friday 
 morning." 
 
 This was on Tuesday that he spoke so, 
 and while under the impression that the 
 lawyers he had sent for to the City of 
 Mexico would not be permitted to come 
 through the lines and defend him. 
 
 Still the lawyers did not come, and 
 the Princess Salm Salm determined to 
 go alone to look for them. She 
 had a carriage but no horses, 
 and an application was made 
 to a Liberal General to furniiih 
 iust two animals to take her to the near- 
 est stage station. The General replied 
 that if he had a thousand to spare, he 
 would not let one go for any such pur- 
 pose. .This kind of spirit pervaded, 
 with here and there an exception, the 
 entire army. In such spirit was the 
 court martial selected, and in such 
 spirit did Escobedo* declare to Juarez 
 that unless Maximilian was shot ht- 
 could not hold his troops together. 
 
 In these early days of June some 
 thoughts of escape presented themselves 
 to the Emperor's mind, and a plan to 
 save him had been agreed upon. A 
 slippery Italian rascal, one Henry B. 
 del Borgo, a captain in the Liberal 
 army, had received two thousand dol- 
 lars from Maximilian to purchase six 
 horses, saddles, equipments and pistols. 
 Of this amount the Italian spent six 
 hundred dollars in horses and accoutre- 
 ments, which were to be ready at a de- 
 signated spot on a certain night. The 
 three prisoners were furthermore to be 
 let out at the proper time, when a quick 
 rush was to take place, and a desperate 
 gallop for the mountains. Mejia knew 
 all the country, the plan was a moe-t 
 feasible one, but to the surprise of ev- 
 ery one, the Italian, after divulging all 
 the particulars of the plot, includinghis 
 ©wn actions, was permitted to retiiti 
 upon th« balaneo of tha nwraej and take 
 
m 
 
 SHELiBV S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 1 
 
 with Mm the compliments of Escobedo 
 tor the patriotism and ability he had 
 manifested in thus finding out and ex- 
 posing the schemes of the traitors. 
 
 After this betrayal on the part of the 
 miserable little Italian, all the foreign- 
 ers were ordered to leave Queretaro. 
 Escobedo would make no exceptions. 
 Maximilian's American counsel had to 
 go with the rest, and all of the Austrian 
 and Belgian officers and soldiers who 
 were not to be tried for their lives im- 
 mediately. 
 
 The Government of Mexico recog- 
 nized Maximilian only as the Archduke 
 of Austria, and his Generals, 
 Miramon and Mejia, only as so- 
 called Generals. As such the 
 court martial proceeded to try them — a 
 court composed as follows: Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel Platon Sanchez, President ; 
 Captains Jose VincenteKamirez, Emilio 
 Lojero, Ignacio Jurado, Juan Kueday 
 Auza, Jose Verastigui, and Lucas Villa- 
 gran. It held its fiist session on the 37th 
 day of May, 1867, and on the 14th of 
 J une, of the same year, at midnight, the 
 three prisoners, Maximilian, Mejia, and 
 Miramon, were sentenced to death. On 
 the 16th, Escobedo telegraphed to Juarez 
 as follows : 
 " Citizen President : 
 
 " The sentence which the Council of 
 War pronounced on the 14th instant, has 
 been confirmed at these headquarters, 
 and to-day, at ten o'clock of the morn- 
 ing the prisoners were notified thereof, 
 and at three o'clock this afternoon they 
 will be shot. Escobedo." 
 
 A petition, asking Maximilian's life, 
 signed by his Mexican lawyers, Messrs. 
 Mariane lliva Palacio and Eafael Mai~ 
 tiuez de la Tone, was peremptorily de- 
 nied. Again they sought the President, 
 and begged at his hands a brief respite. 
 Five days were granted, and an order 
 sent by telegraph to Escobedo to stay 
 the execution until the 19th. 
 
 Juarez had his headquarters daring 
 the trial at San Luis Potosi. Hither 
 came Baron Von A. V. I\Iagnus, the 
 Prussian Minister near the Imperial 
 C^oyei'ament ©f Mexico. He cams to in- 
 
 tercede in behalf of Maximilian, and to 
 do all that was possible to be done iu 
 his behalf. He, too, visited Juarez, rep- 
 resented to him the uselessness of the 
 sacrifice, pointed out the impossibility 
 of any further foreign intervention in 
 the future, and in the name of mercy, 
 and for the sake of Christian charity 
 and forgiveness, asked the life of Max- 
 imilian at the hands of the President of 
 the Republic, 
 
 It was of no avail. As cold as the 
 snow upon the. summit of Popocatapetl 
 was the heart of Juarez. 
 
 Baron Magnus abandoned the eftort 
 and went from San Luis to Queretaro. 
 On the 15th news came that the Empress 
 Carlota was dead. Gen. Mejia was 
 chosen to convey this information to the 
 Emperor, which he did gently and deli- 
 cately. Maximilian wept a little, went 
 away alone for a few brief moments, 
 and came back a king again. In his 
 last hours he meant to be strong to 
 every fate. 
 
 In the afternoon he wrote to Baron 
 Largo, a member of his personal staft", 
 and one who had been banished by Gen. 
 Escobedo on the 14th of March : 
 
 "I have just learned that my poor wife 
 has died, and though the news afiects 
 my heart, yet, on the other hand and 
 under the present circumstances, it is a 
 consiolation. I have but one wish on 
 earth, and that is that my body may be 
 buried next to that of my poor wife. I 
 entrust you with this, as the representa- 
 tive of Austria. I ask you that my legal 
 heirs will take the same care of those 
 who suiTuunded me, and my servants, 
 as though the Empress and I had lived." 
 
 On the 18th Baron Magnus arrived in 
 Queretaro, and immediatelj^ visited the 
 Emperor. Still hoping against hope, he 
 again put himself in communcation with 
 Juarez. Maximilian was to be^ehot on 
 the 19th, and at midnight on the 18th 
 Baron Magnus sent the following mes- 
 sage : 
 " His Excellency Sonor Don Lerdo de Tejada : 
 
 " Having reached Queretaro to-day, I 
 I am sure that the three persons, con' 
 domned on th© 14th, di&d merally last 
 
A^' UXWRiTTlEX LJE^U- OV Tlltt WAR. 
 
 135 
 
 Sunday; and that tbe world so esti- 
 mates it, as tliey bad laade every dispo- 
 sifcion to die, and expected every instant, 
 for an hour, to be carried to the place 
 where they were to receive death, be- 
 fore it was possible to communicate to 
 them the order suspending the act. 
 
 " The humane customs of our epoch 
 do not permit that, after having suf- 
 fered that horrible punishment, they 
 should be made to die the second time 
 to-morrow. 
 
 "In the name, then, of humanity and 
 heaven, I conjure you to order their lives 
 not to be taken ; and 1 repeat to you 
 again that I am sure that my sover- 
 eign, His Majesty the King of 
 Prussia, and ail the monavchs of Europe 
 united by the ties of blood with the im- 
 prisoned Prince, namely, his brother, 
 the Emperor of Austria, his cousin, the 
 Qneenof the British Empire, his brother- 
 in-law, the King of the Belgians, and 
 his cousins, also, the Queen of Spain 
 and the Kings of Italy and Sweden, will 
 easily understand how to give His Ex- 
 cellency Senor Don Benito Juarez all 
 the requisite securities that none of the 
 three prisoners will ever return to walk 
 on the Mexican Territory. 
 
 " A. V. Magxus." 
 
 To this appeal the present President 
 of Republic, then Juarez's Secretary ot 
 State, sent the following reply : 
 
 " Senor Baron A. V. Magnns : 
 
 " I am pained to tell you, in answer to 
 tbe telegram which you have been 
 pleased to send to me to-night, tliat, as 
 I declared to you day before yesterday, 
 in this city, the President of the Eepub- 
 lic does not believe it possible to grant 
 the pardon of the Archduke Maximilian, 
 through the gravest considerations of 
 justice, and of the necessity of assur- 
 ing peace to the Republic. 
 
 " Sebastian Leedo de Te.jai>a." 
 
 No hope. Maximilian knew and felt 
 it from the first, and so he had long ago 
 made up his mind to die. He made one 
 more effort, however, to save the lives 
 of bis companions. On the ISth, the 
 day before his execution, he sent the 
 following dispatch to the President : 
 
 "8enor Benito Juiirez : 
 
 " I desire that you may preserve the 
 lives of Don Miguel Miraraon and Don 
 Tomas Mejia, who day before yestei- 
 day suffered all tbe tortures and bitter- 
 ness of death ; and, as I manifested on 
 being taken prisoner, I should be the 
 only victim. 
 
 " Maximilian." 
 
 To this touching appeal there never 
 came an answer. The sullen and savage 
 Indian was losing caste in this contrast 
 with the chivalrous and christian Euro- 
 pean, and to escape further humiliatiou. 
 he added to his cruelty the natural 
 national characteristic of stoicism. 
 
 At about half past eleven o'clock, on 
 the night of the 18th, Escobedo visited 
 Maximilian. The interview was very 
 brief. He asked the Emperor for his 
 photograph, which was given him, shook 
 hands with him at parting, and strode 
 away a guilty, swarthy, conscienceless 
 murderer, not daring to look back upon 
 the young dauntless face, so fair and so 
 fresh in its nobleness and beauty. 
 
 The Emperor next prepared himself for 
 death. He took from his finger his mar- 
 riage ring, and gave it to his physician. 
 Dr. Samuel Basch, requesting him to 
 carry it to the Archduchess his mother. 
 He still supposed his wife to be dead, 
 and God in his mercy let him die so. 
 
 There were yet some letters to write. 
 The first was to Baron Largo : 
 
 "I have nothing to look for in this 
 world; and my last wishes are limited 
 to my mortal remains, which soon will 
 be free from suflering and under the 
 favor of those who outlive me. My 
 physician. Dr. Basch, will have my body 
 transported to Vera Cruz. Two ser- 
 vants, Gull and Tudas, will be the only 
 ones who will accompany hitn. I have 
 given orders that my body be carried to 
 Vera Cruz without any pomp, and that 
 no extraordinaiy ceremony be made on 
 board. I await death calmly, and 1 
 equally wish to enjoy calmness in the 
 coffin. So arrange it, dear Baron, that 
 Dr. Basch and my two servants be 
 ti^ansported to Europe in one of the two 
 war vesRel*!. 
 
i^iS 
 
 saiXBY s jE:s.P£Drriox to mjixico ; 
 
 "I wisli to be buried by the side of my 
 poor wife. If tlie report of the death 
 of my poor wife has do fouodatioB, my 
 body should be deposited in some place 
 until the Empress may meet me through 
 death. 
 
 "Have the goodness to transmit the 
 necessary orders to the captain of the 
 ship de Groeller. Have likewise the 
 goodness to do all you can to have the 
 widow of my faithful companion in 
 arms, Miramon, go t9 Europ6 in ooe of 
 the two war vessels. I rely the more 
 upon this wish being complied Avith, in- 
 asmuch as I have recommended her to 
 place herself under my mother at Vi- 
 enna. Yours, 
 
 Maximilian. 
 
 Qaeretaro, in the Prison of the Capuch- 
 
 inas, 18th of June, 1867. 
 
 The second letter was again to Jua- 
 rez: 
 
 '•QuERETARO, Juue 19, 1867. 
 "Senor Benito Juarez : 
 
 "About to receive Vieath in conse- 
 quence of having wished to prove 
 whether new political institutions could 
 succeed in putting an end to the 
 bloody civil war which has devastated 
 for so many years this unfortunate coun- 
 try, I shall lose my life with pleasure if 
 its sacrifice can contribute to the peace 
 and prosperity of my new country. 
 Fully persuaded that nothing solid can 
 be founded on a soil drenched in blood 
 and agitated by violent commotions, 1 
 conjure you, in the most solemn manner 
 and with the true sincerity of the 
 moments in which I iind my- 
 self, that my blood may be 
 the last to be spilt; that the same per- 
 severance which I was pleased to recog- 
 nize and esteem in the midst of prosper- 
 ity—that with which you have defended 
 the cause which has just triumphed — 
 may consecrate that blood to the most 
 noble task of reconciling the minds of 
 the people, and in founding in a stable 
 and durable manner the peace and tran- 
 quility of this unfortunate country. 
 
 "Maximilian." 
 
 This was all. ITie morning broke fair 
 axid white in the sky, and at half past 
 
 six three carriages drew up in front of 
 the main gate of the Convent of the 
 Capuchinas. The bells rang in all the 
 steeples, there were soldiers everywhere, 
 and long lines of glittering steel that 
 rose and fell in yet the soft, sweet hush 
 of the morniag. 
 
 Into the first carriage got Masimiliau 
 and Father Soria, a priest. The Em- 
 peror's dress was very plain. He wore 
 a single-breasted black frock coat, witii 
 i all the buttons buttoned except the last 
 one, a black vest, neck-tie and panta- 
 loons, plain cavalry boots, and a wide- 
 brimmed hat, or sombrero. 
 
 In the second carriage there cauio 
 Miramon and his priest, in the third 
 Mejia and his. Then the solemn cortege 
 started. In the extreme advance five 
 cavalry rode, the one behind the other, 
 witli an interval between of twenty 
 paces, and yet further in front of the 
 liye, there rode a solitary corporal. A 
 company of infantry, eighty rank and 
 file, came after the cavalry. Then fol- 
 lowed the carriages, escorted by a bat- 
 talion of sharp shooters, one half of 
 whom flanked each side of the road, 
 marching parallel with the vehicles. A 
 rear guard of two hundred and fifty 
 mounted men closed the mournful pro- 
 cession. 
 
 The sun arose and poured its un- 
 clouded rays over the city. All the 
 people were in the streets. On the faces 
 of the multitude there were evidences 
 of genuine and unaffected sorrow. 
 Some among the crowd lifted their hats 
 as the victimspassed along, some turned 
 away their heads and wept, and some, 
 even amid the soldiers and amid the 
 hostile ranks of the Liberals, fell upon 
 their knees and wept. 
 
 The place of surrender was to be the 
 place of execution. Northwest of the 
 city a mile or more, the Hill of the Bells, 
 Bl Cerro de las Cam/panas, npreared it- 
 self. It was enclosed on three sides by 
 six thousand soldiers of all arms, leav- 
 ing the rear or uncovered sule resting 
 upon a wall. 
 
 It was half past seven o-clock when 
 the carriages halted at the place of exe- 
 
AN T'\\\i;i rii:\ i.i;ai (M iiii: w \i;. 
 
 i^r 
 
 cation. Maximilian was the first to 
 alight. He stepped prondlj' down, took 
 a liandkerchief from bis pocket and liia 
 hat from his head, and beckoned for 
 one of his Mexican servants to approach. 
 
 The man came. 
 
 "Tate these,"' the Emperor said, 
 "They are all 1 have to give.'" 
 
 The faithful Indian took them, kissed 
 there, cried over thera, fell apon his 
 knees a few moments in prayer to the 
 good God for the good master, and arose 
 a hero. 
 
 In front of the dead wall three crosses 
 had been firmly imbedded in the 
 ground. On each side was a placard 
 bearing the name of the victims to be 
 immolated there. That upon the right 
 was where the Emperor was to be shot, 
 that ia the centre was Miramon, that 
 upon the left for the grim old stoic and 
 fighter, Mejia. 
 
 Maximilian stroked down the luxuri- 
 ant growth of his long yellow beard, as 
 it was his constant habit to do, and 
 walked firmly to his place. 
 
 The three men embraced each otlier 
 three times. To Mejia he said: 
 
 "We will meet in heaven." 
 
 Mejia bowed, smiled, and laid his? hand 
 upon his heart. 
 
 To Miramon he said: 
 ■ "Brave men are respected by eove- 
 reigns— permit me to give you the place 
 of honor." 
 
 As he said this he took Miramon gen- 
 tly by the arm and led him to the centre 
 cross, embracing him as he left him for 
 the last time. 
 
 Escobedo Vv-as not on the ground. An 
 aide-de-camp, however, brought per- 
 mission for each of the victims to de- 
 liver a farewell address. The Emperor 
 spoke briefly: 
 
 "Persons o£ my rank and birth are 
 brought into the world either to insure 
 the welfare of the people, or to die as 
 martyrs. I did not come to Mexico 
 from motives of ambition. 1 came at 
 the earnest entreaty of those who de- 
 sired the welfare of our country. 
 Mexicans, I pray that my blood may be 
 the );ist to be shed for our unhappy 
 
 country, and nuiyitiusnic the happine>3 
 of the nation. Mexicans! Long lira 
 Mexico !•' 
 
 Mejia drew himself up as a soldier on 
 duty, looked up once at the unclouded 
 sky, and around u])on all the fragrant 
 and green growing things, and bowed 
 his head without speaking. 
 
 Miramon drew from liis pocket ». 
 small piece of Dapcr anl read as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 "Mexicans ! behold me, condemacd 
 by a Council of War, and condemned to 
 death as a traitor. In these moment* 
 which do not belong to me, in which 
 my life is already that of the Supremo 
 Being, before the entire world I pro- 
 claim that I have never been a traitor 
 to my country. 1 have defended mj 
 opinions, but my children will never be 
 ashamed of their father. I have not 
 the stain of treason, neither will it pasa 
 to my children. Mexicans! Long live 
 Mexico ! Long live the Emperor !" 
 
 When Miramon ceased reading, Maxi- 
 milian placed his hand on his breast^ 
 threw up his head, and cried out in a 
 singularly calm and panetrating voic* 
 
 " Fire !" 
 
 Eighteen muskets were discharged £ • 
 one musket. Mejia and Miramon die;, 
 instantly. Four ballets struck the Em- 
 peror, three in the left and one in the 
 right breast Three of these balle:^ 
 passed entirely through his body, coiri 
 iog oat high up on the left shoulder, tli 
 other remained bnbedded ia the righi 
 lung. The Emperor fell a little side- 
 ways and Bix)n his right side, exclaim- 
 ing almost gently and sadly : 
 
 " Oh \ Eoml)re! Homhre! Oh! m.tr. ! 
 Oh ! man !" 
 
 He was not yet dead. A soldier went 
 close up to iiim and tired into hi3 
 stomach. The Emperor moved slightly, 
 as if still sensible to pain. Another 
 came out from the firing party, and, 
 putting the muiwle of his musket close 
 up to his breast, shot him fairly thi-ongl* 
 the heart. 
 
 The tragedy was ended; Mexiean 
 vengeance was satisfied ; the soul of 
 the unfortunate Prince waj^ with i*9 
 
SHELBY S EXPEDITION TO MEXICO 
 
 Ood, and until the Judgment day the 
 Iblood of one who was too young and 
 too gentle to die, will cry oat from the 
 
 gronnd, even as the blood of Abel. Too 
 generous to desert his comrades, too 
 pure in heart to rule as he should have 
 ruled, too coBiidiog: to tieep a crown be- 
 stowed l>y a race bred to revolation, 
 and too merciful in all the ways and 
 walks of life to maintain fast hold upon 
 a throne carved out from conquest aod 
 military powC'r, he died as he had lived, 
 — ^^imperial in manhood and heroic in the 
 tiiseharge of every duty. 
 
 "II K KXJ'», 
 
 "POOS CAEI^TA." 
 [Ftoui tlic Kansas City Tiuic«,Mi!.y 23, ISli). i 
 
 Dispatches from Europe say that tlie 
 malady is at its worst, and that the 
 young: widow of Maximilian is near her 
 death hour. Ah ! when the grim king 
 does come, he will brinp: to her a bless- 
 ing and a benediction. The beautiful 
 liirown eyes have been lustreless these 
 many months ; the tresses of her sanny 
 hair have long ago been scorched with 
 fever pain ; the beautiful and brave 
 young Spartan, rich in energy, in loye, 
 in passionate devotion, knows no more 
 the roses and lawns of Miramar ; the 
 Mediterranean brings no more from 
 over perilous seas the silken pennon of 
 her fair-haired, royal sailor lover ; it is 
 quiet about Laoken, where the Empress 
 lays a-dying ; but Time will never see 
 Rueh another woman die until the whole 
 world dies. 
 
 It is not much to die in one's own bed, 
 pessrceful of conscience and weary of 
 tfiiild-bearing. The naked age is 
 ^rowded thick with little loves, and 
 
 rose-water lines, and the pink and the 
 white of the bridal toilettes. Here is a 
 queen now in extremity, who reigned in 
 the tropics and whose fate has over' it. 
 the lurid grandeur of a volcano. A 
 sweet Catholic school-girl she was when 
 the Austrian came a wooing, with a ship 
 of the line for chariot. Bhe played mu- 
 sical instruments ; she had painted rare 
 pictures of Helen, 'and Omphale in the 
 arms of Hercules, and Jeanne d'Arc 
 with the yellow hair, and the pensive 
 Roland — her of the iSTorman face — over 
 whose black doom there stii! flits a ruddy 
 fervor, streaks of bright southern tint, 
 not wholly swallowed up of death. 
 Yes! it was a love-match, rare in king- 
 craft and court cunniiig. Old Leopold's, 
 daughter mariied with the flags of three 
 uations waving over her, amid the roar 
 of artillery and the broadsides of bat- 
 tle ships. The aea gave its sapphire 
 bloom and the skies their benison- Afar 
 off French eagles were seen, alas! to 
 shadow all the life of the Inide with 
 the blood of the husband. The Nine- 
 teenth Century witnessed the heroic 
 epic which darkened to such a tragedy. 
 She came to Mexico, bringing in her gen- 
 tle hands two milk-white doves, as it 
 were. Charity and Religion. 
 
 j^ure as all women; stainless as an 
 angel-guarded child ; proud as Edith of 
 the swan's neck ; beautiful ; a queen of 
 all hearts where honor dwelt; mistress 
 of the realms of music ; rare in the em- 
 broidery she wove ; having time for 
 literature and letters ; sensuous only in 
 the melody of her voice ; never a 
 mother— it were as though God had sent 
 an angel of light to redeem a barbaric 
 race and sanctify a degraded people. 
 How she tried and how she suflered, let 
 the fever which is burning her up alive 
 give answer. It is not often that the 
 world looks upon such a death-bed. 
 Yet in the rosy and radiant toils of the 
 honeymoon, a bride came to govern an 
 empire where armies did her bidding, 
 and French Marshals, scarred at Inker- 
 mann and Solferino, kissed with loyal 
 lips her jeweled hand and murmured 
 through their gray moustaches words of 
 
AN UNWRITTEN LEAF OF THE WRK, 
 
 139 
 
 soldierly truth and valor. Slie sate her- 
 self down ia the palace of the Monte- 
 zamas and looked out amid the old elms 
 where Cortez's swart cavaliers had made 
 love in the moonlight, their blades not dry 
 with blood of the morning's battle ; upon 
 Chepultepec, that had seen the cold glit- 
 ter of American steel and the gleam of 
 defiant battle-Qags; upon the Alemada 
 where Alvarado tooktbe Indian maiden 
 to kiss, who drove the steel straight for 
 his heart, and missed, and found a surer 
 llodgro.ent in her own. 
 
 All these were bridal gifts to the Aus- 
 trian's bride— tlie brown-eyed, beauti- 
 ful Carlota. Xoble white vision in a 
 land of red harlots, with soft, pitying, 
 tjueenly face; hair flowing down to the 
 i^irdle, and as true a heart as ever beat 
 ia woman's bosom. As a Grecian stat- 
 ae, serenely complete, she shines out in 
 that black wreck of things a star. 
 
 It came suddenly, tliat death of her 
 lover and her husband. It dared not 
 draw near when the French eagles flew, 
 tat afterward what a fate for one so 
 I oyal and so brave. God shielded the 
 tried heart from the blow of his last 
 words, for thej^ were so tender as to 
 carry a sorrow they could not heal. 
 "Poor Carlota!" Youth, healtb, reason, 
 crown, throne, empire, armies, husband, 
 all gone. Why should the fates be so 
 pitiless and so unspaiing? 
 
 Somewhere in eternity — Avithinsome 
 golden palace walls, wliero old, imperial 
 banners float, and Launcelots keep 
 guard, and Arthurs reign, and all the 
 patriot heroes dwell, her Maximilian is 
 waiting for his bride. Long ago that 
 spotless soul has been there. Let death 
 come quickly and take the body, and 
 end its misery and subdue its pain. All 
 that is imihortal of Carlota is with her 
 husband. The tragedy is nearly over. 
 In an age of iron, and steam, and armies, 
 and a world at peace, it remained for a 
 woman to teach nations how an Em- 
 press loves and dies. Who shall dare to 
 say hereafter there is nothing in blood 
 or birth? What gentle sister, in the 
 struggle and turmoil of life, will look 
 away from that death-bed in Lacken 
 Castle, and not bless God for being a 
 woman aad of the sex of her who is 
 dying for her king and her empire"? 
 Sleep ! the angels have no need of sleep. 
 Nothing suffices love. Having happi- 
 ness, one wishes for Paradise; having 
 Paradise, one wishes for Heaven. There 
 is a starry transfiguration mingled with 
 her crucifixion. The crown is almost 
 hers, and in the beautiful garden of 
 souls she will find oDoe more the Mon- 
 arch of her vonth. 
 
LBAg'05 5FP 23 W45