There was much indignation in the United States over the awful tragedy and accompanying insult to the national flag. A vast amount of money was expended on the navy, and certain commanders were ordered to review their forces and manœuvre their squadrons almost in sight of the Cuban shores. Warlike talk was in the air; but the sober second thought of the people was averse to a war in defence of the insulted banner, when it had been used to shelter adventurers in an illegal undertaking. The American is slow to be angered, and has none of the Englishman's sentimental reverence for bunting, unless it covers a clearly just cause. Sir Lambton was speedily promoted by his Government. Somebody in the American Congress proposed a resolution of thanks to him also, but it was promptly tabled, with a perception of the fitness of things hardly to have been expected in that sagacious body. More fitting and spontaneous was the gift sent to him by the miners of far Nevada, a fourteen-pound silver brick, emblematic of the highest expression of eulogy.
The Virginius tragedy, and the indifference with which it was beheld by the American Government, were sufficient warnings, had any been needed, to the Filibuster, that his day was past. In unmistakable language he was told that his country's flag should not and would not shield him in the violation of international law. Theoretically the execution of the Virginius adventurers was as much of an outrage on the dignity of the United States as if it had occurred on American soil. Practically, the delicate points of flag and register and high-seas neutrality were dismissed from consideration, and the evidently hostile mission of the vessel was held to excuse the severe punishment meted out to her passengers. Whether or not the lesson may be heeded when the example shall have grown old, it is plain that for the present at least, the race of filibusters is extinct. Although the Cuban insurrection broke out again five years later and several cargoes of war munitions were landed on the island during the months preceding the American invasion, there were no filibustering expeditions on a large scale from the United States or any other country.
The nearest approach to genuine filibusterism in recent years was the raid of Dr. Jameson and some eight hundred adventurers on the Transvaal, on New Year's Day, 1896. It was badly planned and conducted without any show of skill or courage. The raiders were entrapped and surrendered almost without firing a shot. The Boer authorities, with more magnanimity than wisdom, pardoned the demoralized rank and file, permitted the civilian leaders to go free after a brief imprisonment and the exaction of a fine, and delivered "Dr. Jim" and his military associates over to the English for trial. They were found guilty and subjected to a nominal imprisonment of a few months, as "first-class misdemeanants." Four years later the English forces were in the Boer capital and Dr. Jameson as a member of the Cape Colony parliament, was passing judgment on the Dutch burghers as "rebels" against the British Empire! The career of the Filibuster is no longer open to private individuals. The great powers have monopolized the business, conducting it as such and stripping it of its last poor remnant of romance, without investing it with a scrap of improved morality.
The Filibusters were a virile race, with virtues and vices of generous growth. They played no mean part on the world's stage, albeit a part often wayward and mistaken. They were American dreamers. Had they been Greeks or Norsemen, or free to roam the world in the days of Cortez, Balboa, and Pizarro, victors like them, History would have dealt more kindly by them. As it is, spite of faults and failures, they do not deserve the harshest of all fates, oblivion.
THE END.
A Romance of the Iowa Wheat Fields.
THE ROAD TO RIDGEBY'S.
By FRANK BURLINGAME HARRIS.
12mo., cloth, decorative. $1.50