CHAPTER III.

THE RETREAT.

After this frankly expressed opinion there was a rather lengthened

silence, and the Colonel was the first to resume the conversation.

"General," he went on, "you evidently know nothing of the events that

have occurred during the last four and twenty hours."

"How could I know anything? These demons of insurgents have organised

Guerillas, who hold the country and so thoroughly intercept the

communications, that out of twenty spies I have sent out, not one has

returned."

"And not one will return, be assured."

"What is to be done, then?"

"Do you really wish for my advice, General?"

"On my honour, I desire to know your real opinion; for you are the only

one among us, I fancy, who really knows what is going on."

"I am aware of it. Listen to me, then, and do not feel astonished at

anything you may hear, for all is positively true. The information I am

about to have the honour of communicating to you was given me, by the

Jaguar himself, scarce three hours back, at the Salto del Frayle,

whither he invited me to come to converse about some matters in no way

connected with politics."

"Very good," the General remarked, with a slight smile. "Go on, I am

listening to you with the deepest attention."

The Colonel felt himself blush under his chief's slightly ironical

smile; still he recovered himself, and continued--

"In two words, this is our position: while a few bold men, aided by a

privateer brig under the American flag, carried by surprise the

_Libertad_--"

"One of the finest ships in our navy!" the General interrupted, with a

sigh.

"Yes, General, but unhappily it is now an accomplished fact. While this

was taking place, other insurgents, commanded by the Jaguar in person,

got into the Fort of the Point, and carried it almost without a blow."

"But what you tell me is impossible!" the old soldier interrupted with a

burst of passion.

"I tell you nothing that is not rigorously true, General."

"The vague rumours that have reached me, led me to suppose that the

insurgents had dealt us a fresh blow but I was far from suspecting such

a frightful catastrophe."

"I swear to you, on my honour, as, a soldier, General, that I only tell

you the most rigid truth:"

"I believe you, my friend, for I know how brave and worthy of confidence

you are. Still, the news you give me is so frightful, that, in spite of

myself, I should like to be able to doubt it."

"Unhappily, that is impossible."

The General, suffering from a fury which was the more terrible as it was

concentrated, walked up and down the room, clenching his fists, and

muttering broken sentences. The Colonel looked after him sadly, not

dreaming of offering him any of those conventional consolations which,

far from offering any relief to pain, only render it sharper and more

poignant. At the end of some minutes, the General succeeded so far in

mastering his emotion as to draw back to his heart the annoyance he

felt. He sat down again by the Colonel's side, and took his hand kindly.

"You have not yet given me your advice," he said with a ghost of a

smile.

"If you really insist on my speaking, I will do so, General," the young

man answered, "though I am convinced beforehand that our ideas are

absolutely similar on this question."

"That is probable. Still, my dear Colonel, the opinion of a man of your

merits is always precious, and I should be curious to know if I really

agree with you."

"Be it so, General. This is what I think: we have but insufficient

forces to sustain an assault effectively. The town is very badly

disposed toward us: I am convinced that it only wants an opportunity to

rise and make common cause with the insurgents. On the other hand, it

would be a signal act of folly to shut ourselves up in a town with an

issue, where we should be forced to surrender--an indelible stain for

the Mexican army. For the present, we have no succour to expect from the

government of Mexico, which is too much engaged in defending itself

against the ambitious men of every description who hold it continually

in check, to dream of coming effectively to our assistance, either by

sending us reinforcements, or carrying out a diversion in our favour."

"What you say is unfortunately only too true; we are reduced to reckon

on ourselves alone."

"Now, if we obstinately shut ourselves up in the town, it is evident to

me that we shall be compelled eventually to surrender. As the insurgents

are masters of the sea, it is a mere question of time. On the other

hand, if we quit it of our free will, the position will be singularly

simplified."

"But, in that case, we shall be compelled to treat with these

scoundrels?"

"I thought so for an instant; but I believe we can easily avoid that

misfortune."

"In what way? speak, speak, my friend."

"The flag of truce the insurgents send you, will not arrive at the

cabildo till nine in the morning; what prevents you, General,

evacuating the town, ere he makes his appearance?"

"Hum!" said the General, growing more and more attentive to the young

man's remarks. "Then you propose flight to me?"

"Not at all," the Colonel retorted; "remember, General, that the

position is admitted, that in war, recoiling is not flying. If we render

ourselves masters of the country by leaving the town to the insurgents,

by this skilful retreat we place them in the difficult position in which

we are today. In the open plains, and through our discipline, we shall

be enabled to hold our own against a force four times our strength,

which would not be possible here; then, when we have obtained those

reinforcements Santa Anna will probably himself bring us ere long, we

will re-enter Galveston, which the insurgents will not attempt to defend

against us. Such is my opinion, General, and the plan I should adopt,

had I the honour to be Governor of this State."

"Yes," the General answered, "the advice you offer would have some

chance of success, were it possible to follow it. Unluckily, it would be

madness to reckon on Santa Anna's support: he would allow us to be

crushed, not perhaps of his own will, but compelled by circumstances,

and impeded by the constant obstacles the Senate creates for him."

"I cannot share your opinion on that point, General; be well assured

that the Senate, ill-disposed though it may be to the President of the

Republic, is no more desirous to lose Texas than he is. Besides, under

the present circumstances, we must make a virtue of necessity; it would

be great madness for us to await here the enemy's attack."

The General seemed to hesitate for some minutes, then, suddenly forming

a determination, he rang a bell. An aide-de-camp appeared.

"Let all the general officers assemble here within half an hour," he

said. "Begone."

The aide-de-camp bowed, and left the room.

"You wish it," the General continued, turning to the Colonel; "well, be

it so. I consent to follow your advice. Besides, it is, perhaps, the

only chance of safety left us at this moment."

In Europe, where we are accustomed to see great masses of men come in

contact on the field of battle, it would cause a smile to hear the name

of army given to what, among us, would not even be a regiment. But we

must bear in mind that the new world, excepting North America, is very

sparely populated; the inhabitants are scattered over immense districts,

and the most imposing regular forces rarely attain the number of five or

six thousand men. An army is usually composed of fifteen to eighteen

hundred troops, all told, infantry, cavalry, and artillery. And what

soldiers! ignorant, badly paid, badly armed, only half obeying their

Chiefs, whom they know to be as ignorant as themselves, and in whom they

naturally have not the slightest confidence.

In Mexico, the military profession, far from being honoured as it is in

Europe, is, on the contrary, despised, so that the officers and soldiers

are generally blemished men to whom every other career would be closed.

The officers, with a few honourable exceptions, are men ruined by debt

and in reputation, whose ignorance of their profession is so great, that

one of our sergeants could give them lessons. As for the soldiers, they

are only recruited among the leperos, thieves, and assassins. Hence the

army is a real scourge for the country. It is the army that makes and

unmakes the Governments, which succeed each other with perfectly

headlong rapidity in Mexico; for, since its pretended emancipation, this

unhappy country has witnessed nearly three hundred pronunciamentos, all

organised in the army, and carried through for the benefit of the

officers, whose only object is to be promoted.

Still, what we say is not absolute. We have known several Mexican

officers, highly educated and honourable men; unluckily their number is

so limited, that they are impotent to remedy the evil, and are

constrained to put up with what they cannot prevent. General Rubio was

undeniably one of the most honourable officers in the Mexican army.

Still, we have seen that he did not hesitate to plunder the very persons

whom his duty obliged him to protect against all annoyance. My readers

can judge by this example, selected from a thousand, what tricks the

other Generals play.

The corps d'armée placed under the command of General Rubio, and shut up

with him in Galveston, only amounted to nine hundred and fifty officers

and men, to whom might be found at a given signal some three hundred

lanceros scattered in little posts of observation along the coast.

Though incapable of effectually defending the town, this force, well

directed, might hold in check for a long time the worse armed, and

certainly worse disciplined insurgents.

The General had rapidly seen the value of the Colonel's advice. The plan

the latter proposed was, in truth, the only practicable one, and hence

he accepted it at once. Still, it was necessary to act with vigour; the

sun was rising, and the coming day was Sunday; hence it was important

that the army should have evacuated the town before the end of mass,

that is to say, eleven in the morning, for the following reason:

In all the slave states, and especially in Texas, a strange custom

exists, reminding us distantly of the Lupercalia of ancient Rome. On a

Sunday masters grant their slaves entire liberty; one day in seven is

certainly not much; but it is a great deal for the Southern States,

where slavery is so sternly and strictly established. These poor slaves,

who seek compensation for six days of hard servitude, enjoy with

childish delight their few holiday hours: not caring a whit for the

torrid heat that transforms the streets into perfect ovens, they spread

over the town singing, dancing, or galloping at full speed in carts

belonging to their masters which they have appropriated. On this day the

town belongs to them, they behave almost as they please, no one

interfering or trying to check their frolic.

General Rubio rightly feared lest the merchants of Galveston, whom he

had so cleverly compelled to disgorge, might try to take their revenge

by exciting the slaves to mutiny against the Mexicans, and they would

probably be ready enough to do so, delighted at finding a pretext for

disorder, without troubling themselves further as to the more or less

grave results of their mutiny. Hence, while his aide-de-camp performed

the commission he had entrusted to him, General Rubio ordered Colonel

Melendez to take with him all the soldiers on duty at the Cabildo, place

himself at their head, and seize the requisite number of boats for the

transport of the troops to the main land.

This order was not difficult to execute. The Colonel, without losing a

moment, went to the port, and not experiencing the slightest opposition

from the captains and masters of the vessels, who were well aware,

besides, that a refusal would not be listened to, assembled a flotilla

of fifteen light vessels, amply sufficient for the transport of the

garrison. In the meanwhile, the aide-de-camp had performed his duties

with intelligence and celerity, so that within twenty minutes all the

Mexican officers were collected at the General's house.

The latter, without losing a moment, explained to them in a voice that

admitted of no reply, the position in which the capture of the fort

placed the garrison, the necessity of not letting the communication with

the mainland be cut off, and his intention of evacuating the town with

the least possible delay. The officers, as the General expected, were

unanimous in applauding his resolution, for in their hearts they were

not at all anxious to sustain a siege in which only hard blows could be

received. Taking the field pleased them, on the contrary, for many

reasons: in the first place, the pillage of the estancias and the

haciendas offered them great profits, and then they had a hope of taking

a brilliant revenge on the insurgents for the numerous defeats the

latter had inflicted on them since they had been immured in the town.

Orders were therefore immediately given by the General to march the

troops down to the quay with arms and baggage; still, in order to avoid

any cause for disorder, the movement was executed very slowly, and the

Colonel, who presided over the embarkation, was careful to establish

numerous posts at the entrance of each street leading to the port, so

that the populace were kept away from the soldiers, and no disputes were

possible between them. So soon as one boat had its complement of troops

on board it pushed off, though it did not start, as the General wished

the entire flotilla to leave the town together.

It was a magnificent day, the sun dazzled, and the bay sparkled like a

burning-glass. The people, kept at a distance by the bayonets of the

soldiers, watched in gloomy silence the embarkation of the troops.

Alarmed by this movement, which they did not at all understand, and were

so far from suspecting the departure of the Mexican garrison, that they

supposed, on the contrary, that the General was proceeding with a

portion of his troops to make an expedition against the insurgents.

When all the soldiers, with the exception of those intended to protect

the retreat of their comrades, had embarked, the General sent for the

alcade mayor, the Juez de letras, and the corregidor. These magistrates

came to the General, concealing, but poorly, under a feigned eagerness,

the secret alarm caused them by the order they had just received. In

spite of the rapidity with which the troops effected their embarkation,

it was by this time nearly nine o'clock. At the moment when the General

was preparing to address the magistrates whom he had so unexpectedly

convened, Colonel Melendez entered the cabildo, and after bowing

respectfully to the Governor, said--

"General, the person to whom I had the honour of referring last night is

awaiting your good pleasure."

"Ah! Ah!" the General replied, biting his moustache with an ironical

air, "Is he there, then?"

"Yes, General; I have promised to act as his introducer to your

Excellency."

"Very good. Request the person to enter."

"What!" the Colonel exclaimed, in surprise, "Does your Excellency intend

to confer with him in the presence of witnesses?"

"Certainly, and I regret there are not more here. Bring in the person,

my dear Colonel."

"Has your Excellency carefully reflected on the order you have done me

the honour to give me?"

"Hang it! I should think so. I am sure you will be satisfied with what I

am about to do."

"As you insist, General," the Colonel said with marked hesitation, "I

can only obey."

"Yes, yes, my friend, obey; do not be uneasy, I tell you."

The Colonel withdrew without any further remark, and in a few moments

returned, bringing John Davis with him. The American had changed his

dress for one more appropriate to the circumstances. His demeanour was

grave, and step haughty, though not arrogant. On entering the room he

bowed to the General courteously, and prepared to address him. General

Rubio returned his bow with equal courtesy, but stopped him by a sign.

"Pardon me, sir," he said to him, "be kind enough to excuse me for a few

moments. Perhaps, after listening to what I shall have the honour of

saying to these Caballeros, you will consider your mission to me as

finished."

The American made no further reply than a bow, and waited.

"Señores," the General then said, addressing the magistrates, "orders I

have this moment received compel me to leave the town at once with the

troops I have the honour to command. During my absence I entrust the

direction of affairs to you, feeling convinced that you will act in all

things prudently and for the common welfare. Still, you must be cautious

not to let yourselves be influenced by evil counsels, or led by certain

passions to which I will not allude now, particularly here. On my

return, which will not be long delayed, I shall ask of you a strict

account of your acts during my absence. Weigh my words carefully, and be

assured that nothing you may do will be concealed from me."

"Then, General," the Alcade said, "that is the motive of the movement of

the troops we have witnessed this morning. Do you really intend to

depart?"

"You have heard me, Señor."

"Yes, I have heard you, General; but in my turn, in my capacity as

magistrate, I will ask you by what right you, the military governor of

the state, leave one of its principal ports to its own resources in the

present critical state of affairs, when the revolution is before our

gates, and make not the slightest attempt to defend us? Is it really

acting as defenders of this hapless town thus to withdraw, leaving it,

after your departure, a prey to that anarchy which, as you are aware,

only the presence of your forces has hitherto prevented breaking out?

The burden you wish to lay upon us, General, we decline to accept; we

will not assume the responsibility of so heavy a task; we cannot bear

the penalty of another person's faults. The last Mexican soldier will

scarcely have left the town, ere we shall have handed in our

resignations, not being at all desirous to sacrifice ourselves for a

government whose conduct toward us is stamped with egotism and

cold-blooded cruelty. That is what I have to say to you in my name and

in that of my colleagues. Now, in your turn, you will act as you think

proper, but you are warned that you can in no way reckon upon us."

"Ah, ah, Señores!" the General exclaimed, with an angry frown, "Is that

the way you venture to act? Take care, I have not gone yet; I am still

master of Galveston, and can institute a severe example before my

departure."

"Do so, General, we will undergo without a murmur any punishment you may

please to inflict on us, even were it death."

"Very good," the General replied, in a voice quivering with passion; "as

it is so, I leave you free to act, according to circumstances. But you

will have a severe account to render to me, and that perhaps shortly."

"Not we, Excellency, for your departure will be the signal of our

resignation."

"Then you have made up your mind to plunge the country into anarchy?"

"What can we do? What means have we to prevent it? No, no, General, we

are not the persons who deserve reproach."

General Rubio in his heart felt the logic of this reasoning; he saw

perfectly well how egotistic and cruel his conduct was toward the

townsmen, whom he thus surrendered, without any means of defence, to the

fury of the popular passion. Unfortunately, the position was no longer

tenable--the town could not be defended, hence he must depart, without

answering the decade; for what reply could he have made him? The General

gave his aides-de-camp a sign to follow him, and prepared to leave the

cabildo.

"Pardon me for detaining you for a moment, General," John Davis said:

"but I should have liked to have a short conversation with your

Excellency, prior to your departure."

"For what good object, sir?" the General answered, sharply; "did you not

hear what was said in this room? Return to those who sent you, and

report to them what you have seen, that will be sufficient."

"Still, General," he urged, "I should have desired--"

"What?" the General interrupted, and then added, ironically, "To make me

proposals, I presume, on the part of the insurgents. Know, sir, that

whatever may happen, I will never consent to treat with rebels. Thank

Colonel Melendez, who was kind enough to introduce you to my presence.

Had it not been for his intervention I should have had you hung as a

traitor to your country. Begone!--or stay!" he added, on reflection; "I

will not leave you here after I am gone. Seize this man!"

"General, take care," the American replied. "I am intrusted with a

mission; arresting me is a violation of the law of nations."

"Nonsense, sir," the General continued, with a shrug of his shoulders,

"why, you must be mad? Do I recognize the right of the persons from whom

you come to send me a flag of truce? Do I know who you are? Viva Dios!

In what age are we living, then, that rebels dare to treat on equal

terms with the government against which they have revolted? You are my

prisoner, sir! But be at your ease I have no intention of ill-treating

you, or retaining you any length of time. You will accompany us to the

mainland, that is all. When we have arrived there you will be free to go

wherever you please; so you see, sir, that those Mexicans, whom you

like to represent in such dark colours, are not quite so ferocious as

you would have them supposed."

"We have always rendered justice to your heart and loyalty, General."

"I care very little for the opinion you and yours have of me. Come on,

sir."

"I protest, General, against this illegal arrest."

"Protest as much as you please, sir, but follow me!"

As resistance would have been madness, Davis obeyed.

"Well," he said, with a laugh, "I follow you, General. After all, I have

not much cause to complain, for everything is fair in war."

They went out. In spite of the dazzling brilliancy of the sun, whose

beams spread a tropical heat through the town, the entire population

encumbered the streets and squares. The multitude was silent, however;

it witnessed with calm stoicism the departure of the Mexican army; not

an effort was attempted by the people to break the cordon of sentries

drawn up on the fort. When the General appeared, the crowd made way

respectfully to let him pass, and many persons saluted him.

The inhabitants of Galveston detested the Mexican Government; but they

did justice to the Governor, whose honest and moderate administration

had effectually protected them during the whole time he remained among

them, instead of taking advantage of his authority to plunder and

tyrannize over them. They saw with pleasure the departure of the troops,

with sorrow that of the General. The old soldier advanced with a calm

step, talking loudly with his officers, and courteously returning the

bows he received, with smiling face and assured demeanour. He reached

the port in a few minutes, and at his order the last soldiers embarked.

The General, with no other weapon but his sword, remained for some

minutes almost alone in the midst of the crowd that followed him to the

quay. Two aides-de-camp alone accompanied him. John Davis had already

entered a boat, which took him on board the schooner, in which the

General himself intended to cross.

"General," one of the aides-de-camp said, "all the troops have embarked,

and we are now only waiting your Excellency's pleasure."

"Very good, Captain," he answered. He then turned to the magistrates,

who had walked by his side from the cabildo. "Farewell, señores," he

said, taking off his hat, whose white plumes swept the ground,

"farewell, till we meet again. I pray Heaven, from my heart, that,

during my short absence, you will be enabled to avoid the scenes of

disorder and anarchy which the effervescence of parties too often

occasions. We shall meet again sooner than you may possibly suppose.

Long live Mexico!"

"Long live Mexico!" the two officers shouted.

The crowd remained dumb; not a man took up the General's shout. He shook

his head sadly, bowed for the last time, and went down into the boat

waiting for him. Two minutes later the Mexican flotilla had left

Galveston.

"When shall we return?" the General muttered, sadly, with eyes fixed on

the town, whose buildings were slowly disappearing from sight.

"Never!" John Davis whispered in his ear; and this prophetic voice

affected the old soldier to the depth of his heart, and filled it with

bitterness.

The White Scalper: A Story of the Texan War · 第 3 / 26 章