Captain Salmon offered to plead for Walker, if the latter would ask his intercession as an American citizen. But Walker, with the bitter remembrance of all the injuries which his nativity had brought upon him, thanked his captor, and refused to demean himself by denying the country which had adopted and honoured him.
He was arraigned before a court-martial on the 11th of September, and, after a brief examination, he was condemned to die by the fusillade next morning. He heard his sentence with calmness, and was remanded to prison to pass the night in preparing for death. At half-past seven o'clock on the morning of September 12th he was led out to the place of execution. He walked unfettered, with calm and firm tread. He carried a crucifix in his left hand, a hat in his right. A priest walked by his side, reciting the prayers for the dying. Two soldiers marched before him carrying drawn sabres; three more followed him with bayonets at the charge. Upon entering the hollow square of soldiery on the plaza he begged the priest to ask pardon in his name of any one whom he had wronged in his last expedition. Then, mounting the fatal stool, he addressed his executioners in Spanish, for none of his comrades had been allowed to witness the execution, and said:
"I am a Roman Catholic. The war which I made, in accordance with the suggestion of some of the people of Ruatan, was unjust. I ask pardon of the people. I receive death with resignation. Would that it might be for the good of society!"
Then, calm as he had ever been, whether in peace or in war, he awaited the fatal signal. The captain of the firing party gave a sharp order, dropped the point of his sabre, and, at the sign, three soldiers stepped forward to within twenty feet of the condemned, and fired their muskets. All of the balls took effect, but still the victim was not dead; whereupon a fourth soldier advanced, and placing the muzzle of his piece at the forehead of the victim, blew out his brains. The authorities refused to bury the body, and it was deposited in the Campo Santo by some pitying Americans and other foreigners. And so ended the last of the filibusters!
[2] "The Filibuster War in Nicaragua."
CHAPTER XVIII
Character of Walker — A private's devotion — Anecdote — After fate of the filibusters — Henningsen's epitaph — Last Cuban expedition — The Virginius tragedy — An Englishman to the rescue — Finis.
As Walker was the last, so he was the greatest of American filibusters. He was not a great man, nor by any means a good one; but he was the greatest and the best of his class. His fault was ambition. It was a fault with him because it was a failure. From such a verdict there is no appeal. No apology can be offered for ambition ungratified; and successful ambition needs none. But the world's estimate of his personal character and actions has been needlessly severe. He was not the insatiable monster of cruelty that his enemies have painted. He was a man of deep, if narrow, learning, fertile resources, and grand audacity. He was calm and temperate in words and actions, and mercilessly just in exacting obedience from the turbulent spirits who linked their fortunes with his. He lacked worldly wisdom; nothing could induce him to forego the least of his rights to gain a greater ultimate advantage. He would maintain the dignity of his office, though it cost him the office itself. The lawyer belittled the lawgiver in his attempt virtually to confiscate the lands of Nicaragua by the help of an unworthy legal device; while his design for the restoration of slavery was as impolitic as it was futile, unjust, and barbarous. The action was, doubtless, the result of an honest belief in that "divine institution," as well as of a desire to show his sympathy with his devoted friends in the United States; but the effect was only to put another weapon into the hands of his foreign enemies, without materially strengthening him at home. It was a defiance to his powerful British opponents, and a wanton outrage upon the free states of Central America, alienating the sympathies of all who hoped from the evil of conquest to extract the good of civilization. Judged, as he wished to be judged, by his public policy, Walker was unequal to the office of a Liberator. It would be unfair to criticize the domestic administration of one who held his office by the sword, yet it is true that he preserved order and enforced justice with more success than any ruler of Nicaragua who has filled the position since the independence of the country. Doctor Scherzer, the intelligent German traveller, writing at a time when Walker's success seemed assured, heartily rejoices in the new and grand career opening before Central America. He warmly commends Walker's administration of justice, without palliating his errors, and sees "the morning star of civilization rising in the Tropic sky."
Walker was humane in war, and allowed retaliatory measures to be taken against the Costa Ricans only after the latter had shamelessly abused his lenity by repeated massacres of defenceless prisoners and non-combatants. The tales of his cruelty to his men have uniformly proceeded from the lips of worthless and disgraced adventurers, who were mainly deserters. Had he been the cold and haughty tyrant painted by his enemies, the infatuated devotion of his followers is unaccountable by any human rule. Neither ambition nor recklessness can explain the conduct of men who followed him through life, with unswerving loyalty. "Private Charles Brogan" is recorded among the surrendering men at the end of the Sonora campaign. As "Private Brogan" his name figures among the Vesta's passengers. So again, it appears on the army register and in the lists of wounded, all through the Nicaraguan campaign. Yet again, in 1857, when the second descent on Nicaragua ended ingloriously at San Juan del Norte, "Private Charles Brogan" heads the list of captured rank and file. Did he see his chief perish bravely at Trujillo? or had he himself gone before and escaped the tragic sight? This chronicler knows not, and history, alas! has forgotten greater men than the poor follower of the half-forgotten filibuster. All honour here to thee, Private Charles Brogan, whom no vision of fame or fortune tempted to serve so loyally and long the ill-starred chieftain of a contraband cause!
The truth is, Walker's attitude towards his officers of high rank was one of studied formality, which the necessities of his position made imperative. Familiarity in his intercourse with such volunteers would have been death to discipline. But towards his humbler followers he showed the kindness and consideration of a friend, and won their respect by sharing their dangers. "I have known him," says Henningsen, "to get up from a sick bed, ride forty miles to fight the Costa Ricans, whipping soundly a force of thrice his numbers, and then, after giving his horse to a wounded soldier, tramp back his forty miles, without, as the boys used to say, 'taking the starch out of his shirt collar.'" The men who did their duty spoke well of him always; but it was, of necessity, the knaves and cowards, mainly, who survived such bloody campaigns, and returned to defame their comrades. Few even of these accused him of selfishness, save in his ambition. For money he cared nothing; and the soldiers of fortune complained of hard fighting and no pillage.