It was but a short-lived light--a passing gleam--and soon again fell the
shadow, dark as ever. Strive as I might, I could not cast the load that
weighed upon my bosom; reason as I would, I could not account for its
heaviness.
It was natural that a parting like ours should produce pain, and
misgivings as to the future. My life was to be staked in the lottery of
war; I might fall on the field of fight; I might perish by
camp-pestilence--a foe that in the campaign kills more soldiers than
sword or shot--the many perils of flood and field were before me, and it
was natural I should regard the future with a degree of doubtfulness.
But it was not the contemplation of all these dangers that filled me
with such a terrible foreboding. Strange to say, I had a forecast that
I should survive them. It was almost a conviction, yet it failed to
comfort me, for it comprehended not the safety of Isolina. No--but the
contrary. Along with it came the presentiment, that we should never
meet again.
Once or twice, as this dread feeling became most acute, I reined up my
horse, half resolved to gallop back; but again the wild idea passed from
me, and I continued irresolutely on.
Something of prudence, too, now restrained me from returning: it would
no longer have been safe to go back to the rancheria. As we issued from
the piazza, we could hear distant jeering, and cries of "_Mueran los
Tejanos_!" It was with difficulty I could restrain the rangers from
turning to take vengeance. One, the worse for mezcal, had loitered
behind--under the influence of the drink fancying himself secure. Him
the _pelados_ had "bonneted," and otherwise maltreated. They would have
murdered him outright; but that some of them, more prudent than their
fellows, had counselled the mob to let him go--alleging that the Tejanos
were yet "too near, and might come back."
Again I had strife with my men: they would have returned and fired the
place, had I permitted them. Fortunately, he who had been ill-treated
was a good-for-nothing fellow--scarcely worth the sympathy of his
comrades--and I was well satisfied at his having received a lesson. It
might be useful, and was much needed, for "straggling" was one of the
ranger-crimes most difficult to cure.
Along the road, we saw signs of a guerrilla. Shots were fired at us
from a hill; but a party sent to the place encountered no one.
Horse-tracks were observed, and once a brace of mounted men were seen
galloping away over a distant slope. It might be the band of Ijurra,
and doubtless it was so; but we fancied at the time that Canales himself
was near; and as an encounter with his large and well-organised force
would be a very different affair from a skirmish with the other, we felt
the necessity of advancing with caution.
The prospect of a "fight" with this noted partisan created quite an
excitement in the ranks. To have captured Canales--the "Chapparal Fox,"
as the Texans termed him--or to have made conquest of his band, would
have been esteemed a feat of grand consequence--only inferior in
importance to a pitched battle, or the taking of "Game-leg" (Santa Anna)
himself.
I confess that to me the idea of measuring strength with the famed
guerrillero was at that moment rife with charms; and the excitement
derived from the hope of meeting him, for a while abstracted my mind
from its painful bodings.
But we reached the town without seeing aught of the Chapparal Fox. It
was not likely that he was on our road; or if so, he took care not to
show himself. Canales fought not for glory alone, and the rangers were
not the foes he cared to encounter. Rich baggage-trains were the game
he was used to hunt; and our solitary "company-wagon," filled with
frying-pans, camp-kettles, sick soldiers, and tattered blankets--half
alive with those charming little insects of the genera _pules_ and
_pediculus_--had no attractions for the gallant guerrillero.
On reaching the town, we were surprised to find that the division had
not yet moved. It was to have marched on that morning; but a
countermand had arrived from head-quarters, delaying the movement for
some days--perhaps a week.
This was rare news to me; and as soon as I heard it, my mind became
occupied with projects and anticipations of a pleasant nature. I had
hoped that we should be sent back to the rancheria, but alas! no--our
orders were to remain with the division.
As every available building was occupied by troops, the rangers, as
usual, were treated as "outsiders," and compelled to take to the grass.
Half-a-mile from the town, a spot was shown us for our camp. It was on
the banks of a pretty rivulet; and there, having picketed our steeds,
stretched our canvas to the sun, and washed the dust from our faces, we
made ourselves at home.
I did not remain long by the camp. As soon as the tents were fairly
pitched, I left them, and walked back into the town--partly to get more
definite information as to the future movements of the army, and partly
with the design of indulging a little in the social feeling. I had some
old comrades among the different regiments of the division; and, after
such a long spell of rustication, I was not indisposed to refresh my
spirit by the renewal of former fellowships.
At head-quarters, I learned definitely that we should not march for a
week at the least. So far good; and after hearing this, I proceeded to
the _fonda_--the rendezvous of all the jovial spirits of the army. Here
I encountered the friends of whom I was in search; and for a short while
I found respite from the thoughts that had been harrowing me.
I soon gathered the current "camp gossip," and learned who were the
"newspaper heroes" of the hour; over many of whose names my friends and
I could not restrain either our satire or laughter. It appeared that
the men of deeds were scarcely known beyond the limits of the army
itself, while others, who in the field of battle had actually played the
poltroon, had at home become household words in the mouths of the
people. One general, whom I myself saw hiding in a ditch daring the
rage of battle, was the theme of speech, sentiment, and song. The
newspapers were filled with praises, and the windows with pictures, of a
"gallant dragoon officer," who had somehow obtained the credit of
capturing a certain battery. My rangers cried "Bah!" when I told them
this. They themselves were the men who had first galloped over those
Mexican guns!
"Keeping an editor in pay" was a standing sarcasm applicable to more
than one of our generals; and the "army correspondent," taking advantage
of this pruriency for fame, lived well, and swaggered in proportional
importance.
Ah, glory! what sacrifices men make for thee upon the shrine of
conscience! For my part, I do not think I could feel happy under the
credit of a feat I had not performed. Surely the consciousness of
having done a deed is of itself a sufficient reward? He is but an
unhappy hero who is not a hero to himself!
Pleasanter gossip I heard about the relations existing between our
troops and the people of the town. Many of the inhabitants had grown
quite friendly, in consequence of our excellent behaviour towards them.
Our conduct was compared with that which they had lately experienced at
the hands of their own army. The latter was in the habit of seizing
property at pleasure, on pretence of using it for the defence of the
state. We, on the contrary, paid for everything--round prices too--in
bright American dollars. The ricos and merchants preferred this system,
and had no objections to making it permanent. Outrages were few on the
part of our soldiery, and severely punished by the general. Our enemies
contrasted the modest bearing of the American soldier with the conceited
strut and insolent swagger of their own gold-bedizened _militarios_, who
were wont on all occasions to "take the wall" of them. It was only
outside the lines, between stragglers and leperos, that the retaliation
system was carried on so fiercely. Within the walls, everything was
order, with a mildness too rare under martial law. Private property was
strictly regarded, and private dwellings were not occupied by our
troops. Even the officers were not billeted in private houses; and many
of them had to make shift in rather uncomfortable quarters, while most
of the soldiers lived under canvas. This state of things was scarcely
satisfactory to the troops; and some grumbling was heard. There was no
complaint, however, from the Mexicans, who seemed rather astonished at
so much forbearance on the part of their conquerors.
I doubt whether, in the whole history of war, can be found a conquest
characterised by equal mildness and humanity with the "Second Conquest
of Mexico."
It was principally for this reason the people had grown so well affected
towards us. But there was another reason, perhaps, not less potent.
From the extensive operations we were now about to undertake, they saw
that we meant war in earnest; and the belief had become general, that a
large "annexation" was to follow; that perhaps the whole valley of the
Rio Grande would become American territory. It was but human nature in
them to do homage to the rising sun.
The ricos were better disposed towards us than the common people; but
this enigma is easily explained. The latter were more _patriotic_--that
is, more ready to fight for native tyranny, than accept freedom from a
foreign hand. 'Tis so in all lands. In the event of a war with
England, the black slave of Carolina would range himself by the side of
his master, and prove the bitterest foe to the enemies, not of _his
freedom_, but of his _country_.
The _familias principales_ of Mexico had good reasons for being friendly
to us. They had a stake to lose, which, under their own government, had
been ill guarded for them. No wonder they should desire to come under
the broad protecting wings of the northern eagle.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I found that another species of "annexation" had been going on during my
absence. One of our officers had become annexed to a wealthy senorita
of the place, and the marriage-ceremony had been performed with great
pomp and splendour. Another was talked of as being _fiance_; and it was
expected that the example would find numerous imitators.
I need not say that I was much interested by these _novedades_ and I
returned with lighter heart to the ranger-camp.