Vagabond Life in Mexico

by Gabriel Ferry

"His reasons seem solid enough," he answered, with the air of a man who seemed almost convinced; "but my duty obliges me to look on him as an enemy."

Affairs, however, appeared to be drawing to a pacific conclusion, when the colonel added, "It is an understood thing, then, that we do not fire upon each other. Besides, what would your captain gain by shooting me? He does not owe me a single real."

This unhappy allusion, which brought to the lieutenant's mind the disagreeable circumstance that he had been held in pledge for a debt of a few piastres, kindled anew all his former hatred, and he exclaimed, "Death to the enemies of our country! Fire upon the traitors!"

His men were astonished at such an unexpected order, but they were forced to obey, and the two parties began to fire at one another with a want of success only equaled by their obstinacy. The balls passed above my head, and tore through the air with a sharp whiz, similar to that produced by thrusting red-hot iron into water. Carefully squatting down in an angle of the wall, I marked the countenance of Don Blas, and I must say that it did not appear quite at ease, when a fresh discharge was heard, and the lieutenant fell. I ran toward him, but the asistente was before me. Don Blas, lying at full length, gave no sign of life. I saw Juanito shove several of the soldiers imperiously aside, and could not help admiring the fidelity of this man to his master, when, to my great surprise, he thrust his hands into the pockets of the lieutenant's uniform, and drawing them out empty, cried out, with an air of disappointment, "Nothing! not a real! How can we expect to be properly commanded by officers who have not a single real in their pockets? What if he had on cavalry trowsers!"

After such a funeral oration, this devoted servant detached the gold epaulet from the lieutenant's shoulder with the utmost coolness, and appropriated it to himself by way of consolation. Don Blas breathed feebly, opened his eyes, and begged to be conveyed from the scene of action. His orders were complied with, and four men took him up in their arms. I wished to accompany him, to see him laid on my bed till his wound could be examined. He objected strongly to that arrangement; but I insisted, and made them carry him to my chamber.

"This will not do," said Don Blas to me; "powder and shot have no effect on an old soldier like me. Go up again, and watch what turn matters are taking. Victory will be my only cure."

I obeyed, and returned to the place I had left. During my absence the colonel had proposed a cessation of hostilities. It had been agreed to, and when I regained my former position, both parties were exchanging the most courteous salutations with each other.

The most serious affairs, however, were taking place all round us. Reassured by the peaceful attitude of the soldiers of Don Blas and the colonel, I could observe more easily the progress of events. The redoubt established at the corner of the streets of San Augustin and Monterilla kept up continual discharges of grape-shot, and the road was covered with the dead and wounded. Some fell with all the stoicism of the Indian character, others uttering the most heart-rending cries. The latter were principally those whom curiosity had drawn to the scene of strife. Farther off, in the direction of the barrier of San Lazaro, the roar of the cannon was heard without a single pause; while in the street of Tacuba, opposite the palace, a battery, established by the insurgent troops, swept the square, and made large breaches in the wall which surrounded the palace. Masses of rubbish increased rapidly, the iron balconies were torn and twisted like lianas in an impassable forest, and very soon a large portion of the wall tumbled down. Then a man advanced boldly to a dismantled window with so firm a step as to overawe the crowd. I could distinguish in his bold features all the marks of one of those vigorous natures which a kind of predestination seems to push forward for the rude trials of a military life. This man was, perhaps, the best citizen in Mexico. I had seen General Bustamente too often not to recognize him immediately, in spite of the distance which separated us. More grieved, doubtless, at the bloody scenes which then filled the city, than careful of his own safety, the general addressed to the seditious townsmen some words which I could not hear. However, the cannon still roared without intermission; chips of stone, struck from the sides of the window, began to fly about him in showers; but the president appeared not to heed the danger, which was increasing every moment. A new incident drew the general attention. The walls of the prison, torn by cannon shot, had opened in many places, and I could see the prisoners, shouting lustily, creep through the breaches, one after the other, in spite of the storm of grape which swept the square, and disperse themselves through the streets of the town. This completed the anarchy which reigned at this moment over the devoted city.

These sad scenes were beginning to disgust me, when a temporary truce was arranged between the combatants. A deep silence succeeded the booming of the artillery; the time had now come for both sides to count their dead and to remove the wounded. I went to my room, anxious to know how Don Blas was getting on, but he was not there, and the bed on which I had laid him was very little disarranged. On questioning the people of the house, I learned that, at the very moment the truce had been proclaimed, he had been seen to descend the stairs and go into the street. He had probably thought that it would be more reasonable and prudent of him to see after his much-coveted rank of captain than remain quietly in my house. Seeing, then, that his wound must have been but slight, I went out also. In the streets they were lifting the wounded, and carrying them into the houses. As for the dead, their game had been played out, and the pedestrian trod their bodies under foot with the coolest indifference. They were already completely forgotten.

On the very next day, however, the combat recommenced, and blood again flowed in the streets. Beaten without being overcome, the executive annulled the obnoxious law of fifteen per cent. A full and entire amnesty was granted to the insurgents; and, issuing from the gates of the presidential palace, marched, with all the honors of war, a body of the factious citizens, among whom I recognized, with no small dismay, several convicted felons, notorious in the annals of crime. The ruins of fallen masonry which encumbered the streets, the blood that had been every where shed, and the withdrawal of the obnoxious law, were the deplorable results of an insurrection which had brought in its train twelve days of fighting and anarchy.