EXCURSIONS INTO MEXICO.
The wild, adventurous career of the boys has been wonderful. They
loved the road, loved to ride at will over the land, and set at
defiance the officers of the law.
Nor have they confined their excursions to the American side of the
Rio Grande. Not unfrequently they ride far away over the Sierra
Madres into the valley of the lakes; in Coahuila and San Luis
Potosi, they are known of many. In some of these expeditions they
pass through thrilling experiences and innumerable dangers. Those
border rovers of Mexico who have crossed the path of the boys once
and have escaped with their lives, evince no disposition to renew
hostilities with the "gringo devils," as they affectionately call
the American outlaws.
In this chapter we propose to relate some of "the hair breadth
escapes" of the daring outlaws in the land of the Otomis. These
tales of wild life will not fail to interest the reader.
One time--it was in the spring of 1877--Frank and Jesse James rode
down to the bank of the "River of the North." Piedras Negras is
a favorite crossing place, both for Mexican cattle thieves and
American outlaws. To this point came Frank and Jesse James. The
river was high and the crossing difficult. It was not the season
for successful raiding, and the enterprising Mexican raiders had
turned their attention to the business of revolutionizing their
own country. In this pious undertaking they had not met with that
degree of success which justified them in rejoicing. The lazaroni,
gathered at Piedras Negras, were particularly ill-humored, and the
lonely Texan who came in their way could expect nothing better than
to be plundered.
Such was the situation of affairs when Frank and Jesse James
arrived on the Texas side of the river in front of the wretched
Mexican pueblo. The surly "greaser," who acted as the Charon at
that point, was even more surly than usual. But the boys had passed
that way before, and the ferryman had a vivid recollection that one
Estevan Sandoval, who had molested them on one occasion, was now no
more in the land of the living. He complied with the usual tedious
alacrity of his countrymen to set them across the stream.
There was an unusual number of ill-looking fellows about the place,
a fact which did not escape the immediate attention of the boys.
There were regular brigands from the passes of the Sierra Madres;
thieves from Matamoras, cut-throats from Saltillo; smugglers from
all along the border, and rogues of all grades. The boys knew there
was "fun ahead."
It must be said to the credit of the Jameses that they neither
seek nor run away from a fight. In this case the character of the
boys was sustained. They proposed to pass on without stopping.
In this benevolent intention they were not destined to succeed.
Riding through the square, or plaza, as the Mexicans call it, they
passed on toward the country of woods beyond. They had not got out
of the straggling village, when a mob of half-drunken, howling
Mexicans, mounted on horses, came after them, cursing and firing
off their pistols as they came. It would have been well for some
of them if they had never beheld the face of a gringo. Doubtless
the leaders expected to see the boys use their spurs liberally and
make time out of town. In this they were disappointed. The American
outlaws were not accustomed to flee before such "outfits." Instead
of galloping away, they deliberately halted, and the inevitable
pistols were drawn and "the fun began." The Jameses do not have
occasion to kill unless they desire to do so, as they can easily
disable an enemy without taking his life. In less time than is
required to state the incident, four of the foremost of the rabble
were on the ground, with broken right arms. The remainder of the
crowd turned and rode with all speed through the plaza. Actuated
by some wild impulse which sometimes seems to possess them, the
Jameses turned and rode back again to the square. It came near
proving a fatal ride to Frank. Some of the Mexicans had taken
refuge in an adobe house on one side of the plaza, and seeing the
daring American outlaws sitting on their horses in the very midst
of the place, in an attitude of defiance of all "the brave men" of
Piedras Negras, they mustered courage to open fire upon the boys. A
perfect shower of bullets was discharged, and one of them cut the
brim of the hat worn by Frank James, narrowly missing the side of
his head. Then the boys felt that they were in for "a good deal of
fun," and all scruple as to killing vanished. They shot to kill,
and death was the doom of any greaser who came within their deadly
range. Two were killed outright, and then the ill-natured mob that
had sought to avenge the death of Estevan Sandoval, fled from the
village in terror, leaving the brothers in undisputed possession of
the place.
It was not their purpose to remain, and they rode on in a short
time. That evening, when they were crossing a stream, swollen by
the recent spring rains, a party of brigands in ambush on the
opposite bank opened fire upon them, and Jesse received a slight
wound in the left shoulder. The boys charged the thicket which had
afforded the robbers shelter, and the whole ten broke and fled, not
however, before one of their number was made to atone for the hurt
which Jesse had received.
This journey into San Luis Potosi, was one fraught with many
perils, and only the fate which seems to protect them, enabled them
to return into Texas. They met with a singular adventure on this
trip.
They had reached Monclova, a large town in Coahuila. Here they
found an acquaintance--an old comrade of the Guerrilla times.
He had taken up his residence in Mexico, had married a handsome
Mexican girl, and had settled down to a quiet life in a strange
land. Of course he was glad to see the Boys whom he had not met
since they parted in Kentucky, when he was captured and sent to
prison. His home was placed at their disposal, and his Mexican
wife received them with that cordial hospitality which is a
characteristic of her countrywomen. Here they proposed to remain a
day or two and rest.
In accordance with the customs of the country, the Mexicanized
American gave his old comrades a reception on the following
afternoon, or rather evening after their arrival. A reception in
Mexico means a ball or _fandango_. Many of the leading citizens of
Monclova attended the reception, for the friend of the Jameses was
esteemed a very worthy citizen and respectable gentleman.
Among the guests was a young lieutenant of the Mexican army, and an
American long resident in the country, who came from the vicinity
of Matehuala. These two men scrutinized the faces of the Boys in a
very peculiar manner, and a careful observer could have seen the
flushes of anger which ever and anon overspread their countenances.
Jesse had noticed their behavior, and called the attention of his
brother to the strangeness of their conduct. He was sure that he
had seen the American before somewhere, at some time, just when
and where he could not remember.
Frank was enjoying himself in the society of a fair senorita, and
seemed to attach little importance to his brother's suggestions.
But Jesse watched them closely, and became thoroughly convinced
that he had met both men before, and he knew that the meeting had
been that of enemies.
The lieutenant and his companion did not remain long, but took
their departure. There was at that time encamped, in the environs
of Monclova, a brigade of the Mexican army, and the regiment
to which the lieutenant belonged had barracks near the plaza.
On leaving the ball-room, the two men went directly to the
headquarters of the regiment, and found there the colonel and
lieutenant-colonel. The young officer at once laid before them the
knowledge which he possessed concerning the character of the men
who were being entertained in Monclova that night. Both men had a
score to settle with the Jameses. The account of the American dated
back to 1865--that of the young officer only a little more than a
year, at which time, unfortunately, in one of the border broils,
frequent about that time between Mexicans and Texans, the Boys had
killed a brother of the officer.
The superior officers looked with favor on the scheme to arrest the
Boys. The more readily, too, did they agree to the plan of capture
when informed that the American authorities were offering a reward
of $50,000 for the apprehension of these men. It was a bonanza
which the impecunious colonels hoped to gain.
Silently as possible a company of eighty men was mustered, and
marched to the house, and immediately surrounded it. The merry
makers were just in the midst of an evening of enjoyment. Indeed,
"there was a sound of revelry by night," and the fair senoritas
and chivalrous youths of Monclova were animated by high hopes and
dreams of future bliss.
Suddenly there was an interruption. The doors were thrown open,
and an officer, accompanied by a guard, strode into the room. The
violinist dropped his bow; the dancers stood still; the faces of
women blanched, and men quailed before this apparition of war and
bloodshed.
The officer stepped briskly to the part of the room where the
Jameses were standing, and addressing them in broken English,
commanded them to surrender in the name and by the authority of
the government of Mexico. Frank and Jesse looked at him with a
disdainful, dangerous smile.
Would they surrender without his being under the painful necessity
of using force, inquired the officer.
"Never!" The answer was firmly delivered.
The officer turned to the guards, and gave a signal of command for
them to move up.
"Stop!" It was Jesse's voice of command. The officer waved the
guards to halt.
"We have a proposition to submit. Will you hear it?"
"If it means surrender, yes," replied the officer.
"It is this:" pursued Jesse, not appearing to notice the purport
of the officer's reply, "allow these ladies here to retire, and we
will discuss the question with you."
"I shall be compelled to take you by force," said the officer.
"Let the ladies retire, I say!" exclaimed Jesse James, in a tone
that betrayed his impatience.
The Boys were not surprised without arms. They never lay aside a
pair of pistols. They are ever at their sides, and always ready for
use. The officer parleyed. He did not desire to begin an affray
in the midst of a company of ladies--his instincts as a gentleman
revolted against subjecting them to alarm and danger. The house
was surrounded; he had ample force to enforce the orders of his
superiors; so he said,
"Let the ladies all retire."
The order was given at the door to the guards to to allow the
ladies to pass through. The ball-room was soon free from their
presence. The men huddled in one corner, and finally were permitted
to retire into another room.
"Now," said the officer, "lay down your pistols. I have an ample
force to enforce these orders. The house is surrounded; you cannot
get away."
The answer he received was a derisive peal of laughter. At the
same moment a pistol flashed before the eyes of the officer as he
raised his sword to signal his guard. He saw it but for an instant,
there was an explosion, and the officer fell dead to the floor. The
guard, amazed, rushed forward to succor their fallen leader. They
were thrown off their guard. One, two, three deafening reports,
and three soldiers lay still, weltering in their gore. Celerity
of execution is safety, was ever the motto of the Jameses. The
guards who had followed their officer into the house, fled when
they saw their comrades fall. The boys rushed out of the house. The
soldiers in the street met them with a volley of balls. But they
were too much agitated to shoot well. The boys escaped with two or
three trifling scratches. They opened fire on the line of guards
around the house. Seized with consternation, the soldiers fled from
their deadly revolvers. The whole town was excited. The streets
began to teem with surging throngs of men, women and children; the
alarm drums were beat in the barracks; the soldiers hastily formed
in line and marched to the scene of the disturbance. Never had
Monclova been so shaken before.
It was too late. The cause of all the hubbub had reached their
horses, hastily saddled them, mounted, and were then thundering far
away through the dark streets. They did not travel the highways
after daylight next morning. But they found a refuge in the
mountains, and when the excitement had subsided they went their
way.