The war in Nicaragua

Immediately after receiving the dispatches of the Government placing him in command of an expeditionary force to act against the Legitimists at Rivas, Walker began to prepare the Falange, as the Americans were henceforth called, to march to Realejo whence they were to sail on board the Vesta for a point in the Meridional Department. The stores, both commissary and ordnance, were sent by ox-carts to Realejo and thence by bungos to the brig anchored off Point Ycaco. On the 23d, three days after the order reached Chinandega, the force was aboard ready for sailing. Ramirez had been backward in his movements and showed little disposition for the enterprise, deeming it hazardous and ill-advised. He was evidently influenced by the words of Muñoz, whose disapproval of the expedition to Rivas was well known. So much did the opinion of his superior, Muñoz, control his conduct, that he made small effort to enlist the number of men—two hundred—the Director assigned as the strength of the native force. When the Vesta was ready for sea, not many more than one hundred natives mustered on her decks. Among the officers with Ramirez was Mariano Mendez, a pure Indian who had been engaged in revolutions and counter-revolutions from his youth upward. With violent passions and uncontrolled desires he had a courage and experience which made him at times useful to the men who were in the habit of attempting political changes for personal objects; and when active service was required, they would put the old chief on a good horse with a stout lance in his hand, and reasonably expect from him the most hazardous enterprises. Utterly unfit for civil life and incapable of being subjected to the rigid rules of military law, he was a dangerous tool and an unreliable friend. He would not serve under Ramirez, and obeyed no orders except those from Walker himself. Aboard of the Vesta his principal amusement was to spread his blanket on the deck and gather a crowd of soldiers about him for his favorite game of Monte. Once the money of the bettors was on Mariano’s blanket, it mattered little, so far as the fate of the cash was concerned, whether the cards ran for or against him; it was honor enough, so Mendez thought, and so some of the men seemed to think, for a soldier to bet with a Colonel of Lancers, as he claimed to be; and to lose his money was, with the soldier, a pleasant mode of paying for so signal a distinction. Muñoz was no doubt glad to get Mendez out of Leon; and the Colonel of Lancers was glad for awhile to exchange the aguardiente of Subtiaba for the chocolate of Rivas, especially with the prospect of being able to slip a few ceroons to Leon for sale among the Indians of his neighborhood.

Nor had Castellon failed to provide for a civil organization in case the expedition got a foothold within the Meridional Department. D. Maximo Espinosa, the owner of a valuable cacao plantation near Rivas, was authorized by the Minister of Relations, D. Francisco Baca, to act as Prefect of the Department, and also as Commissioner to collect the revenue so necessary for the sustenance of the Provisional Government. Espinosa was an old man, upward of seventy, with a Don Quixote cast of features, and the dark lustreless eye, full of melancholy, so characteristic of his race. A ruling passion with him seemed to be hatred to D. Juan Ruiz (one of Estrada’s Ministers), whose lands touched those of Don Maximo. Indeed it is probable that an old feud about limits between Don Juan and Don Maximo determined the latter to espouse the cause of the Democratic army. Having lived all his life near Rivas, Espinosa was thought to be well informed as to the roads and places near the town. His nephew, who accompanied him, was also familiar with the Meridional Department; and his services as guide were useful to the expedition.

Morton was placed in charge of the Vesta; and although he knew the coast well and took all advantage of the winds, it was not until four days after leaving Point Ycaco that Walker was enabled to land. On the evening of the 27th of June, about sunset, boats were let down for landing the force at a point known as El Gigante, a short distance above Brito and some six leagues to the north of San Juan del Sur. The boats were few and small, and De Brissot who, by his desire to produce an effect was often taking false steps, ran a whaleboat he had charge of against the rocks the first trip she made to the shore. It was nearly midnight before the whole force, consisting of about fifty-five Americans and one hundred and ten natives, was landed on the coast. When the disembarkation commenced the moon was shining brightly; but by eleven o’clock the sky was overcast. The clouds continued to grow thicker and darker, and before the force was formed in marching order, drops of rain, precursors of a heavy shower, began to fall. Espinosa and his nephew found the trail which led over the coast range of hills to Rivas; and about midnight the Americans in front, Ramirez and his command in the rear, and a few native soldiers detailed to carry the ammunition covered with ox-hides in the centre, the column took up its march for the interior. The men carried nothing but their arms and blankets with two day’s provisions in their haversacks, so that they marched with as much rapidity as the damp, muddy nature of the ground would permit; but before they had gone more than half a mile the rain came down in torrents. Then Espinosa and his nephew lost the trail; the old man complained of colic, and the young one seemed to be afraid to venture further. A halt was ordered; several were sent out to search for the trail; and in the meanwhile the main body got what shelter it could under the heavy foliage of the large dark-looking forest trees. In a few minutes, however, the rain ceased, the trail was found, and the command resumed its march. At dawn the little force had somewhat recovered its spirits, and had got over the drenching of the night previous; and marching briskly through the thick forests, they avoided all habitations, designing if possible to surprise the enemy at Rivas the night of the 28th. About nine o’clock they came to an old deserted adobe house, and halted several hours for breakfast and rest.

The encampment that morning was quite gipsy-like. The felt hats of the Falange showed, in their drooping brims, the effects of the night’s rain; and thick, heavy beards gave to most of the body a wild and dangerous air. As soon as the sentries were posted, the Americans began to dispose of their crackers and cold meat, washed down in some instances by a draught from a liquor canteen; while the native soldiers opened their supplies of cheese and tortillas, winding up with a little tiste—a mixture of chocolate, sugar, and corn meal, diluted in water—from the fantastically carved jicaras they carried tied with a string run through the button-holes of their jackets or trowsers. After breakfast and several hours’ sleep, the force was well prepared to renew its march, and the disagreeable impressions of the night were completely forgotten in the balmy effects of the soft, mild air, which seemed a fluid altogether different from the atmosphere of northern climates. You felt as if a thin, and vapory exhalation of opium, soothing and exhilarating by turns, was being mixed at intervals with the common elements of the atmosphere. By night, however, the clouds began again to gather; and soon after dark a steady rain set in. The weather interfered so much with the march that Walker saw he could not reach Rivas, as he had expected, before morning; and as the natives carrying the ammunition began to complain of their burden, it became an object to secure pack-horses for the command. Besides this, many of the Americans, tired and foot-sore, lost some of the alacrity requisite for action.

At the little village of Tola there was a small body of horsemen, sent out by the commandant at Rivas, to watch the approach of Walker, whose departure from Realejo had been already communicated to Corral at Granada. Report said the news of this fact was carried to the Legitimists by a German who received a passport to leave Leon from Muñoz. The story is not improbable, and was confirmed by so many circumstances, that it is not singular the Americans adopted it as a well-authenticated fact. The Legitimists themselves said, the first news they got was from this German; and it is certain he passed through Pueblo Nuevo with a passport from the commanding general of the Democratic army. On receipt of the news of Walker’s sailing from Realejo, Corral sent Colonel Bosque with a force to Rivas; and after his arrival at the latter place, Bosque began to build barricades, and to press the men of the town into the ranks as soldiers. He had sent out horsemen to scour the country between Rivas and the sea-coast; and twenty of these were, according to the information Walker received from some Democrats near Tola, quartered in the village the night of the 28th. As the expeditionary force approached Tola, the rain fell fast; the roads became filled with water, and the men found it almost impossible to keep their ammunition dry. About half a mile from the village, some twenty men were sent on in advance to attack, and, if possible, capture the enemy there. The detachment marched briskly forward, the main body following at a short distance. As Walker reached the outskirts of the village, he heard, between two claps of loud thunder, the sharp crack of the American rifles, then all was still. The detachment had found the hostile party in the corridor of one of the principal houses of the town; and so little did the Legitimists expect an enemy in the midst of the storm, that they were, without a sentry posted, playing at cards. Several of them—among others the officer in command—were wounded; the rest escaped, and carried the news of the approach of the Americans to Rivas. After securing the horses of the Legitimist troopers, sentries were posted by the Democrats, and they halted for the night. Orders were given to the surgeon, Dr. Jones, to look after the wounded prisoners—much to the dissatisfaction of some native officers, who thought they ought to be shot.

A little after eight o’clock next morning, Walker marched for Rivas, which lies about nine miles to the eastward of Tola. The day soon became clear and bright; and the Falange, eager for a fight, pressed forward briskly. Mendez having found a horse and taken a lance from one of the enemy, was in a fine flow of spirits, and kept near the head of the column, sometimes pressing the advance-guard to let him pass. But Ramirez hung back, and even checked his men as they stepped close after the Americans. Every now and then market-women, with fruit-baskets on their heads, and just from Rivas, would gayly greet the soldiers, nodding familiarly to some acquaintance among the natives, and much wondering at the strange figures of the men from California. Nor were the Americans less amused at the new faces and forms they met on the road; and such of them as spoke any Spanish, would waste all the terms of endearment they could muster on the girls, who seemed pleased with the compliments of the men from the land of gold. When, however, the command reached the summit of a hill, about four miles from Rivas, a scene of beauty and of splendor burst upon their vision, and for a while drew them from everything else, even from thought of the eager strife in which they expected soon to mingle.

As the advance guard reached a turn in the road it seemed to halt for a moment, involuntarily, and though the order was to march in silence an exclamation of surprise and pleasure escaped the lips of all. Mendez, the red streamer flying from the lance which rested on his stirrup, was up with the advance and uttered the single word “Omotepe.” To his eye the scene was familiar, but to the Americans it appeared a vision of enchantment. The lake of Nicaragua lay in full view, and rising from it, as Venus from the sea, was the tall and graceful cone of Omotepe. The dark forests of the tropics clothed the side of the volcano, which seemed to repose under the influence of the soft sunshine around it. The form of the mountain told its history as if written in a book; and the appearance of the volcano was so much that of a person enjoying a siesta, the beholder would not have been surprised to see it waken at any moment and throw the lava from its burning sides. The first glimpse of the scene almost made the pulse stand still; and the Falange had scarcely recovered from its effects when the command was halted opposite a country-house a few hundred yards from Rivas, in order to prepare for the attack on the town.

About a mile from Rivas Walker had fallen into the road leading to Granada, so that he might enter the former place from the north. He took this course with a view of securing the houses either of the Maleaño or of the Santa Ursula estates—two cacao plantations on the edge of the town furnishing good positions to a force either attacking or defending the place. Halting his troops, then, less than half a mile from the first houses of the town, Walker called the principal officers, American and native, around him, explaining his plan of attack, and assigning to each his separate duty. Kewen and Crocker were ordered to drive the enemy, if possible, from the streets, keeping the Americans advancing at a quick step until they reached the Plaza; while Ramirez and his command were to follow close after the Americans, protecting, as much as they could, their flanks and rear. A few moments sufficed for these orders, and all declared their full understanding of the several places assigned them. Then Kewen and Crocker ordered their men to advance. As they got within sight of the first houses, a body of the enemy opened fire; the reply of the rifles was sharp and deadly, and the shout of the Americans as they rushed forward proclaimed their eagerness for the strife. The Legitimists fell back rapidly toward the Plaza; the hill of Santa Ursula was gained by the Falange, and driving in the panels of the gates and doors with the butts of their rifles, the soldiers soon had possession of the houses on the summit. Walker rode past just as the houses were entered; and seeing Crocker a short distance in advance, he called out to know how far the men had got toward the Plaza. Crocker was panting with excitement; his chin was bleeding from the graze of a bullet, one arm hung useless, being shot through near the shoulder, while in the hand of the other side he carried his army revolver, with half its barrels discharged. But the rage of battle was on him; and heedless of wounds he was trying to drive the men toward the enemy. As soon, however, as he saw his commander, he sank his voice, and said in a low tone, “Colonel, the men falter; I cannot get them on.” Then Walker, looking to the rear, saw that the natives were not yet in sight. The pack-mules and horses with the ammunition were slowly coming on; and Mendez, with a few natives near him, was to be seen a little to the right. Passing to the front, Walker saw it was too true, as Crocker said, that the men could not be brought to advance. At the same time a brisk fire was opened on the left flank of the Americans by Colonel Manuel Arguëllo, who had just arrived with a force from San Juan del Sur. Then the Americans were concentrated in a large adobe house near the hill of Santa Ursula, and in some small houses on the opposite side of the street; the ammunition was unpacked, and the whole force was, as far as possible, placed under cover, in order to get a breathing time before future action.

The enemy seeing Ramirez did not press forward to aid the Americans, got in between the two bodies; and Madregil, as the Leonese colonel was called, marched off with nearly his whole command toward the Costa Rican frontier, thinking, doubtless, that the Falange would be destroyed. The Legitimists, too, noticing the disappearance of Ramirez, began to press the Americans on all sides, making several efforts to charge the houses, where the rifles did good execution. The white ribbons were strewed thickly about the streets, and the Americans had several killed and wounded early in the conflict. But the spirits of the latter did not droop until first Crocker and then Kewen was reported killed. Even after these losses, however, the men were brought to a charge in order to drive the enemy from an old gun, a four-pounder, they were trying to get to bear on the houses the Americans occupied. The charge was successful, and the enemy were unable to use the piece during the action. Then the Legitimists tried to fire the houses held by the Democrats, and they so far succeeded as to get one of the roofs in a blaze. By this time upward of fifteen of the Americans were killed or wounded, not more than thirty-five of them remaining for action. The fight had begun at twelve o’clock, and it was near four when orders were issued to prepare for retreat. Several of the wounded had to be left; but those who could march at all were notified of the intention to abandon the houses, so that they might be ready to move when the order was given. The enemy, protected by the thick undergrowth, had crowded in some force close to the houses when the order was given to sally. At the moment of leaving the house, a shout was raised by the sallying party; the nearest of the enemy turned and fled in confusion; and the main body of the Legitimists, paralyzed, as it were, by the offensive appearance of the American movement, waited, expecting everywhere an attack. Thus the Falange escaped from its difficult position with the loss of only one man killed.

When the Democrats attacked Rivas, the Legitimists had probably five hundred men in the town; and they were re-enforced soon after the action commenced by Arguëllo, with some seventy-five or eighty men. There were, according to the best accounts, at least seventy of the Legitimists killed, and as many wounded. The Americans lost six killed and twelve wounded; and five of their wounded left behind were barbarously murdered by the enemy, and their bodies burnt. After such a day, the Legitimists were not much in the humor of pursuing those who had taught them a first lesson in the use of the rifle.

But it was not by numbers that the loss of the Americans was to be computed. The chivalrous spirit of Kewen would have weighed against a host of common men; and the death of Crocker was a loss hardly to be repaired. A boy in appearance, with a slight figure, and a face almost feminine in its delicacy and beauty, he had the heart of a lion; and his eye, usually mild and gentle, though steady in its expression, was quick to perceive a false movement on the part of an adversary, and then its flash was like the gleam of a scimetar as it falls on the head of the foe. With little military experience and less military reading, he was a man to lead others where danger was to be met; and none who knew him feared he would get a command into any position from which his courage and address would be unable to extricate them. To Walker he was invaluable; for they had been together in many a trying hour, and the fellowship of difficulty and danger had established a sort of freemasonry between them.

There had been with the Americans during most of the day, at Rivas, two natives, one of them a boy, the other a man, familiar with the country about Rivas. Under the guidance of the latter the little band retreated through cacao plantations, seeking some road which might lead them toward the Transit. Their march was of course slow, and they were obliged to wait often for the wounded to come up. Among those most seriously hurt were De Brissot and Anderson (afterward Colonel Anderson), the former having a wound through the fleshy part of the thigh, and the latter, in addition to a wound in the thigh, having a scratch in the scalp and a cut in the foot. Capt. Doubleday, a volunteer in the expedition, was useful by his knowledge of native character and the modes of native warfare; and although having a painful wound in the head, he did not for a moment lose his spirits or presence of mind. Two or three times in their wanderings through plantations, the retreating party came upon native laborers, who are accustomed to fly at the sight of armed men, through fear of being pressed into military service; and once overtaking a slow, cautious old man who, after some hesitation, half opened his jacket, to show a red rose under it, they were amused by seeing a white rose at the same time fall to the ground. After a doubtful day in revolutionary times, the poor fellow thought it best to have the white emblem for the Legitimists as well as the red for the Democrats. Nor were the Americans themselves altogether lacking in such prudence; for many of them had torn the red ribbon from their hats, in order to escape the notice of hostile parties. This, however, was a vain precaution, since their tongue, as well as their dress and manners, plainly told the race, and therefore the party, to which they belonged.

It was nearly dark when the guide succeeded in striking the road from Rivas to St. George, about half way between the two places. As the Falange approached the high road the bells of Buenos Ayres were ringing in the distance, and Doubleday thought it was for the victory of the Legitimists, though it was probably for the usual vesper prayers. Marching briskly on, the remains of the expeditionary force passed, about dark, the outskirts of San Jorge, all the doors being closed, as usual when a battle has been fought in the neighborhood, and all the dogs of the village seeming to bark at the tread of the retreating Americans. Walker ordered Mayorga, the guide, to take the command by as quiet a path as possible to the Transit; and he soon led the party by a trail to the right of the road between Rivas and Virgin Bay. The ground was muddy and difficult, the men at times sinking into it over their shoes and half way up to the knee. And if the march was trying to well men, how much more so was it to Anderson and De Brissot, with the muscles of their thighs bored through by musket-balls. The rear guard, however, did its duty well, and kept the column closed up, while maintaining the coolness and firmness requisite for meeting the enemy in case of a pursuit. But there was no sign of pursuit; and about midnight the worn-out soldiers of the Falange halted, and camped until morning at a deserted hut on the top of a hill, some two miles from the Transit road.

A little sleep and a hearty breakfast revived the exhausted spirits of the command; and before nine o’clock on the morning of the 30th, they were again toiling along the muddy trail. Soon they got a glimpse of the white Transit road, between two and three miles from Virgin Bay. It looked American, and the very sight of it refreshed the Falange and put new life even into the wounded. Not many minutes after they got on the Transit, Walker heard, at a distance ahead, the tinkle of a mule-bell, and the guide said it was the treasure train, the passengers having crossed from San Juan del Sur to Virgin Bay the day before. As the train was usually accompanied by an escort, Walker was apprehensive of a collision between the treasure guard and his force, and of the misrepresentations which would necessarily arise from such an event. Hence he hastily ordered the men to be hid on the side of a hill they were then passing; and he was relieved at seeing the whole train pass by with none but the muleteers in charge of it. The march was then resumed, and near the Half-way House a man named Dewey, formerly a gambler in California, rode up, and informing Walker he was just from San Juan del Sur, told him some of the native Democrats, Mendez among them, had passed through town the night before, on their way to Costa Rica, but that no Legitimists had been there since the departure of Arguëllo, early on the morning of the 29th, for Rivas.

A few minutes after sunset, the people of San Juan del Sur beheld about forty-five men, several of them wounded—some without hats, others without shoes—all of them travel-stained and clinging to their rifles, defile through the streets of the town and take up their quarters in the barracks near the beach. The appearance of the Falange at that moment was not imposing; but he who knew how to read men might see from the looks of these, that they bore with firmness the blows of adverse fate. There was no hesitation in their march or in their movements. A few men—you could not style them a detachment, scarcely a detail—were ordered to take possession of all the small boats in the harbor and keep them under guard. The Costa Rican schooner, San José, cast anchor in the harbor just as the Falange entered the barracks; and, before any of her officers or crew had got ashore, a file of Americans were aboard and held her for further orders. Walker expected to hear something of the Vesta, as Morton had been ordered to cruise off and on near San Juan del Sur, until he saw a certain signal from the shore. But no one at San Juan, although many there were friendly to the democrats, could give any news of the Vesta. Several of the residents of the town did all they could for the wounded and destitute soldiers; and even in that moment of adversity, an Irishman, Peter Burns, and a Texan, Henry McLeod, had the hardihood to link their fate with that of the Falange. It was encouraging for the soldiers to find that some, besides themselves, did not regard their fortunes as altogether desperate; and small as was this addition to their numbers, it gave increased moral as well as material strength to the command.

Hearing nothing from the Vesta, Walker determined to press the San José for the service, and go in search of the brig, or in default of finding her, sail for Realejo. Accordingly the wounded were first sent to the schooner, and soon afterward the whole command followed. They found the owner of the vessel, one Alvarado, of Punta Arenas, aboard the San José, which had formerly been a pilot-boat out of San Francisco. Alvarado received the command courteously, and Walker assured him the schooner should not be used for the democratic service longer than was absolutely necessary; and as this same vessel had brought Guardiola, a military person of importance, from Guatemala to Nicaragua, with the avowed object of making war against the Provisional Government at Leon, the owner thought it well to act civilly, lest a libel might be filed against the schooner on her arrival at Realejo. In what may be termed minor diplomacy, the Central Americans are not surpassed by any race on the continent.

The tide was coming in, and there was little or no wind when the Americans went aboard of the San José; hence the vessel remained at anchor waiting for the turn of the tide and for the morning breeze to spring up. Most of the soldiers, fatigued by their toils and excitement during the last three or four days, at once threw themselves on the decks and were asleep almost the moment after they touched the planks. Walker, however, with Captain Hornsby and a few others, kept awake, watching anxiously the shore for any signs of movement there, and as keenly regarding the waters and the heavens, in order to catch the faintest signal of the ebbing tide or of the expected breeze. With all their senses on the stretch, they suddenly saw the flames burst forth from the barracks near the beach, and in an instant the blaze seemed to their startled view to spread over half the town. Immediately a boat was sent off to gather the meaning of the fire. The flames, on close observation, seemed to be confined, and owing to the calmness of the night the fire did not spread. In a few minutes the boat returned with the news that the barracks had been set on fire by Dewey and a sailor named Sam: the former being an American, who had lived for a while on the Isthmus, and the latter being the owner of a small launch running between Realejo and San Juan del Sur, and which had followed the Vesta on her voyage to El Gigante. These two men had some private hatreds against certain legitimists about the Transit: and taking advantage of the times, they determined to wreak their revenge by this act of destruction. It may be, too, that the thirst for plunder and the hope of satisfying their avarice during the confusion of the fire partly prompted the act: for Dewey was a desperate man who had fled from California to escape the punishment of his crimes. Their act had jeoparded the whole town; for all the houses being built of wood, a light wind would have borne the flames to most of the property of the place.

It became important for Walker to get possession of these men and punish their offence; otherwise the whole responsibility of the act might fall on the Americans in the democratic service, and the enemies of these last would say that, in revenge for their repulse at Rivas, they had attempted, like savages, to burn up an inoffensive town. He therefore sent an officer with a few men—their arms concealed in the bottom of the boat—to attempt to get Dewey and Sam aboard the San José. Half by stratagem and half by force, Sam was brought to the schooner; but Dewey, doubtful of the result, refused to venture aboard, and took, as he thought, the safer course of getting to Sam’s launch, which was luckily hitched astern of the pilot-boat. Sam had no sooner crossed the taffrail of the San José than he came reeling (for he was drunk) to where Walker stood, and openly boasted that he and Dewey had set fire to the barracks, and that they considered it an act of right against the legitimists. After these declarations of Sam, there could remain no doubt of his guilt, and as little of Dewey’s, since Sam had made similar statements in the presence of and uncontradicted by his accomplice. The refusal, too, of Dewey to come before Walker, implied guilt. Sam was, therefore, ordered to be tried: and after a short consultation with Capt. Hornsby and John Markham (afterward Colonel Markham), who had shown much discretion at Rivas and during the march thence, Walker determined to send the criminal ashore in order to have him executed there. Riflemen were also placed at the stern of the schooner to watch the launch and prevent Dewey from cutting the lines which held it to the San José.

The prisoner was sent ashore in charge of Capt. Hornsby and a few select men, with orders to shoot him and place on his body a memorandum stating the offence, and by whose command he had been executed; for haste was necessary, it being far past midnight and Alvarado’s skipper was expecting every moment to be able to weigh anchor and set sail. The duty was disagreeable; and therefore, the Colonel commanding had himself chosen the men for the performance of it. Hornsby was an upright honorable soldier; but, then, his ability to fulfil the order might depend on the disposition of those who were to carry it into execution. He was almost the only commissioned officer left to Walker; yet, he was without the large views requisite for perceiving the great importance of clearing the Americans from any participation in the arson which had been committed. Therefore, the commander took aside those who were to go with Hornsby and strove to impress on them the urgent necessity for faithful and conscientious conduct on their part. Hornsby and his detail took the prisoner off in a small boat; in a short time Walker heard the crack of the rifles, and soon afterward the rubbing of the oars against the rowlocks as the boat approached the schooner. Hornsby came back to report that the prisoner had escaped; that while the men were in the act of untying Sam he had broken away, and the rifles being fired at random in the dark, it was not known whether he had been hit or not. It was afterward ascertained that he escaped unhurt to Costa Rica.

The escape of Sam gave an air of connivance at his crime to the action of the Americans. This was the impression certain to be made on the natives of the country, unless some means were found to counteract it. Indeed, when the Costa Rican merchant, Alvarado, who was watching the events as they happened, heard Sam had not been shot, he seemed, by his air, more than by his words, to intimate that the Americans were not over-anxious to punish the offender. Hence, it became necessary to guard against Dewey’s escape; for such an event would tend to strengthen the inference enemies might draw from the failure to execute the sentence of his accomplice. Throughout the night, therefore, which seemed to Walker as if it would never end, strict guard was kept over Sam’s launch. The wearying wretchedness of that night’s watch may be imagined when it is considered that the future character of the Americans in Nicaragua depended, to a great extent, on their ability to punish Dewey’s crime.

At last day broke, and about sunrise the breeze sprung up off shore. The skipper of the schooner weighed anchor and the vessel put to sea, towing the launch astern. Walker ordered the San José to be kept two or three leagues from the land, steering for Realejo, and watching in-shore for the Vesta. A native woman of Chinandega, Sam’s mistress, and who sailed with him on his voyages, managed the rudder of the launch. Three or four hours passed thus; the riflemen in the stern with their eyes constantly on the launch, and with orders to shoot Dewey if he attempted to cut the lines by which she was towed. The small hold of the boat enabled Dewey to keep out of sight, and as he had a couple of army revolvers with him, and was a remarkable shot, it was necessary for the men watching him to keep themselves covered. It was a contest between crime and law after the fashion of the Indian. After a while Dewey rose stealthily from the hold, and managing to place the woman between himself and the riflemen, was evidently preparing to make a desperate effort to cut loose from the schooner. The woman was warned in Spanish to keep clear from Dewey, and was told that death would be the result if she attempted to aid him in his plans. But the poor creature was unable to get away from the man. The order was given to the riflemen to watch their opportunity and shoot Dewey when they could do so without endangering the woman. The discharge of a couple of rifles, almost at the same instant, told that the opportunity had been found. Dewey dropped into the hold, shot through the body; but the ball, passing entirely through him, had, unfortunately, inflicted a painful and dangerous wound on the woman. The woman was brought aboard the San José; her wound was dressed by the surgeon, and she recovered in a short time her usual health. Dewey’s body was sewed up in canvas and buried at sea.

I have minutely narrated the circumstances attending Dewey’s death, because they made a deep impression on the native mind, and gave a certain and decided character to the Americans in the democratic service. The Nicaraguans conceived from these events a respectful idea of American justice. They saw that the men they had been taught to call “filibusters,” intended to maintain law and secure order wherever they went; that they had the will to administer justice, and would, when they had the power, protect the weak and the innocent from the crimes of the lawless and abandoned. And it is this sentiment stamped deeply on the people of Nicaragua which makes the evil-doers of that land dread the re-appearance of the Americans in the country. The anarchy and license of thirty-five years of revolution have unfitted the political leaders for subjecting their lawless passions and unbridled impulses to the fixed rule of unchanging and unswerving duty.

Late in the afternoon of the same day the schooner left San Juan, her passengers recognized the Vesta at a distance bound northward, and apparently for Realejo. After the brig saw the schooner, her movements became mysterious and uncertain; in fact she did not know what to make of a vessel showing Costa Rica colors, and clearly looking out for, and in chase of the Vesta. The San José, however, soon overhauled the brig, and in a few moments the Falange was again aboard of their old acquaintance. The wind was favorable; the Vesta kept on her course for Realejo, and the schooner followed close in her wake. Alvarado, no doubt, thought it was fair, and by his civility he had made it safe for him to carry on a little smuggling, and pay himself out of the pockets of the Leonese for the services he had rendered their friends. Early the next morning, it being the first of July, the Vesta again found the volcano of Viejo bearing due north, and letting her cable slip, she stood at her former anchorage opposite Point Ycaco.

A few stragglers from the force of Ramirez, taking the coast trail from Rivas to Chinandega, had already reached the latter place, and reported some of the incidents of the march and action on the 29th. Therefore the Vesta had been but a few hours in port, when three or four of the principal Democrats of Chinandega came down to get the news of the expedition to the Meridional Department. On their return with the flood-tide—for whenever a boat was sent up the river to Realejo, it was generally on the incoming tide—one of these gentlemen bore to Castellon the written report of occurrences at the south. In his report, Walker stated his impression that Muñoz had acted in bad faith, and that the conduct of Ramirez was due to the inspiration, if not orders, of the commander-in-chief; and the report concluded by informing the Director that, unless the course of Muñoz was inquired into, and cleared of the suspicions hanging about it, the Americans would be compelled to leave the service of the Provisional Government, and seek elsewhere than in Nicaragua a field for their faculties and enterprise. The next day Dr. Livingston, an American, long resident in Leon, brought Castellon’s reply to Walker aboard of the Vesta. The Director complimented the Americans on their conduct at Rivas, thanked them for the services they had rendered the democratic cause, but evaded saying anything in reference to the acts of Muñoz. He urged Walker, however, not to think of leaving Nicaragua, as such an event might be fatal to the Provisional Government; and Dr. Livingston was sent to urge verbally the same views, intimating, too, that the critical position of the democratic party made it inexpedient for the Director to scan too closely the conduct of the commander-in-chief. Walker, however, appeared obstinate, having decided in his own mind to remain some days on the brig for the purpose of allowing the Americans to recover from their fatigues and wounds, and with a view of making the Castellon party manifest as clearly as possible the necessity of the Falange to their cause. So Dr. Livingston went back to Leon, with a report not very encouraging to the Provisional Government.

For some days Walker continued to receive letters from Castellon, entreating him not to give up the democratic cause, and urging him to march the Falange to Leon. In order to bring about the latter result the Director stated that the Legitimists were meditating a movement against his capital, Corral being at Managua with a force of nearly a thousand men, and with arms and ammunition for the supply of a large additional number of recruits. It was also certain that the recruiting of voluntarios forçados—forced volunteers—was going on actively in the Oriental Department. Don Mariano Salazar, too, the most energetic man in the democratic party, visited Walker aboard the Vesta, to impress on him the danger of an attack on Leon by Corral, and the necessity of having the American rifles about the residence of the Director. Salazar was the brother-in-law of Castellon; and being a merchant of much shrewdness and sufficient capital, he managed to have a sort of monopoly of the trade in foreign fabrics, imported by the ports of Realejo and Tempisque. Thus he was able and willing to furnish means to the democratic army, and offered to supply the Americans with any ammunition they might need. He, accordingly, sent to La Union, and procured a quantity of rifle powder for the Falange; the powder which the natives used in their muskets not being fit for the arms of the Americans. Walker appeared, however, inflexible, and the friends of the Provisional Government again began to despair.

Some ten days passed in this manner, and the Falange, recovered from the effects of the expedition to Rivas, was beginning to wish for more active exercise than could be found aboard the Vesta. It was, therefore, decided to march them to Chinandega, as they were promised good quarters there, and the wounded would be able to get more delicate diet than was to be had at Point Ycaco. Accordingly boats and bungos were procured, and the whole body of Americans was transported to Realejo without previous notice given to the authorities. Not many minutes after Walker reached the town he was standing in front of the Collector’s office, and saw the Director, Castellon, and Don Mariano Salazar, step from the boat. It seems Don Francisco had left Leon that morning, and passing by the Polvon, a sugar plantation belonging to two Americans, John Deshon and Henry Myers, had reached the Vesta only a few minutes after the Americans entered the river. He had forthwith followed, in order to persuade Walker to continue his march to Leon. His anxiety was apparent; in fact it was necessary for him to get back to his capital before the people discovered his absence, otherwise a panic might ensue, and the effects be disastrous.

In reply to the entreaties of Castellon, Walker affected to be undecided as to his course after reaching Chinandega, evading a positive reply, by saying he did not know whether he could safely leave his wounded at the last-named town, since the Legitimists, if they intended to enter the Occidental Department, would certainly occupy that place, in order to cut off supplies and communications. The Director told Walker that if he intended to go to Leon, the sub-prefect at Chinandega had orders to furnish him with all the supplies and transportation he required. Castellon and Salazar left for Leon in better spirits, because there appeared a prospect of retaining the Falange in the country; and the Americans proceeded to Chinandega, where they arrived the same afternoon, and found as comfortable quarters as the town afforded. All the officers, civil and military, vied with each other in the efforts they made to satisfy the wants of the Falange; and the women of the place were constantly paying to the wounded those little attentions which take away from the tedium of the soldier obliged to lie idle and inactive, while the bustle of preparation for marching and adventure is going on around him.

The day after reaching Chinandega, Walker made his requisition on the sub-prefect for the horses and ox-carts necessary on the march to Leon; and the Americans were in high spirits at the idea of visiting the old capital of the country, and the second city in size of Central America. The evening before they set out for the seat of the Provisional Government, Byron Cole rode into Chinandega accompanied by Don Bruno Von Natzmer. The former had waited several months after sending his contract to California, expecting each week to hear of the arrival of Americans at Realejo; but as time wore away and the cause of Castellon waned rapidly, he had gone to Honduras hoping to find profit, if not fame, in the gold hills of Olancho. There he met Bruno Von Natzmer, a Prussian, who had resigned his commission in the cavalry of his native country to join Baron Bulow in the colony he proposed to establish in Costa Rica some years ago. Von Natzmer spoke Spanish very well, French tolerably, and English quite indifferently. Having resided for some time in Central America, and being a man of fine intelligence, Von Natzmer was well calculated to render much service to the Americans. He and Cole had left Olancho for Nicaragua as soon as they heard of the arrival of the Vesta at Realejo; and it will be seen in the course of events that they were valuable auxiliaries to the Falange.

Leaving the wounded at Chinandega, in charge of the sub-prefect there, Walker marched to Leon, carrying the ammunition and baggage in the ox-carts of the country. It was late at night when he arrived at the first pickets; and the strength of the pickets, as well as the number of sentries, indicated that Muñoz thought it not altogether improbable the enemy might be in the neighborhood. A native officer was sent on to inform the sentries it was necessary to pass of the approach of the Falange; though the creaking of the cart-wheels, easily heard at the distance of a mile, was sufficient evidence that the party entering the city did not expect to take it by surprise. The white trowsers and jackets of the sentries, as they paced their posts, enabled a person to distinguish their position, even in the darkness of the night, while the clothing of the Falange was favorable to secrecy and concealment. Nor were other differences in military habits less striking; and it was difficult for the Americans to see the advantages of many pickets where large camp-fires were kept burning, as the light enabled an enemy not only to discover the position, but also, in some cases, the exact strength of the picket. It might appear a delicate matter for a force speaking an entirely different tongue, and with military habits altogether dissimilar, to enter a friendly camp near the hour of midnight; but the very difference of language and habits in this case facilitated the task, and no unpleasant incident occurred to mar the arrival of the Americans at the quarters which were assigned them.

The day after the arrival of the Falange at Leon, Castellon expressed a desire for a meeting between Muñoz and Walker, entreating the latter to forget his resentment for the grievances he thought he had suffered at the hands of the commanding-general. Accordingly they met at the house of the Director, and both avoided any allusion to the past, conversing mostly about the prospects of the advance on the part of Corral. The cholera had broken out at Managua; and with an adventurous captain this might have determined him to attack an enemy, hoping by a movement forward to escape the dreadful scourge, or if pursued by the plague to scatter it also among the hostile force, and at least to bring on an action before his own strength was destroyed by the ravages of disease. But Corral was not of the temper such a movement requires; and his character was sufficient guaranty that the cholera alone, without other foe, would drive him back to Granada. Nevertheless, there were constant rumors of the approach of the Legitimists; and the market-women were frequently seen picking up their trays and baskets and flying in all directions from the Plaza. These alarms would sometimes happen at night as well as during the day; and one of them, soon after the Falange reached Leon, was near having serious consequences.

Muñoz had invited Walker to visit the pickets with him, and to observe the condition of the camp after tattoo. Previous to mounting they had met at the house of the Director, and they with Castellon were conversing together when a clashing was heard at the main entrance of the building, and the officer on duty ordered the body-guard to fall in. The general-in-chief, the Director, and Walker, all advanced rapidly toward the gate in order to ascertain the cause of the movement; and on getting into the street, they found the Americans with cartridge-boxes on, and their rifles in their hands, mingled with the officers of the general’s staff, some mounted, others dismounted, some with their swords drawn, and others with their pistols out of their holsters. As soon as the Americans saw Walker they at once retired toward their quarters; and then the cause of the disturbance became manifest. Two of the officers of the general’s staff had got to quarrelling at the door of the Director, and had drawn their swords intending to fight out the quarrel on the spot. In the effort on the part of others of the staff to prevent this, a certain noise and confusion ensued; and as the quarters of the Falange were near the Director’s house, and the Americans knew that Walker was there with Muñoz, the idea occurred to some of them that treason was being practised on their leader. They rushed to the house demanding admission, and were about to force the door when Walker appeared. The difference of language added, of course, to the misunderstanding; and in the confusion of the moment the report spread among the people that the enemy had secretly entered the town, and were already at the house of Castellon. The alarm continued for some moments; but at length quiet was restored, and the officers proceeded to make the tour of the camp.

The ride that night would have furnished amusement and interest to the general observer, no less than to the soldier. The sentry duty is well done by the natives, and if they fought as well as they do guard duty, or as patiently as they submit to all manner of hardship except when mixed with danger, they would make extremely formidable troops. In riding through the streets at night, it was difficult at times to keep your horse from treading on the soldiers. There they lay on the hard pavements ranged by companies in two files, the feet of the front and rear ranks toward each other, and their heads against the walls of the houses on opposite sides of the street; their arms are at their sides, and their cartridge-boxes with one compartment, and made sometimes of leather, sometimes of hide, turned in front, in order to enable them to lie easily on their back or sides. And if dismounting you enter their quarters and see them, some on the brick or dirt floors, others swinging in hammocks, and bent up almost double in order to keep from falling out, you would not wonder at the horror the whole people have of military service. There is scarcely any labor a Nicaraguan will not do in order to keep out of the clutches of the press-gang; and their immunity from this dreaded evil by the presence of the Americans in the country, gave the latter much of the moral power they possessed over the native population. The laborers and small proprietors run more risks to escape military duty than they are generally required to meet, if they are so unlucky as to be caught by the recruiting sergeant.

After the Falange had been in Leon a few days reports of the advance of Corral became less frequent, then ceased altogether; and afterward there came vague rumors of terrible ravages by cholera at Managua, and of the intention of the Legitimists to fall back on Granada. Then Walker broached to Castellon his real object in going to Leon. He desired to get an efficient native force of two hundred men, commanded by a man in whom he had confidence, to make another effort against the enemy in the Meridional Department. Castellon appeared uneasy as soon as the subject was broached, and at length proposed a meeting of Muñoz, Walker, Jerez, and several others, in order to discuss a plan of a general campaign. Jerez was at that time under a cloud; but Walker sought to bring him forward inasmuch as he manifested a deep resentment at being superseded in the command of the army by Muñoz. Accordingly the meeting was held, and of course without result. The general-in-chief proposed to divide the Americans by tens, distributing them among the several bodies of the native troops, and this done he proposed to march by several directions on Granada. But the object of his policy was too plain to deceive anybody, and by proposing such a plan he merely disclosed his feelings without being able to move a step toward the accomplishment of his desires. The manner of Castellon showed Walker that but little was to be done toward obtaining aid for another expedition to Rivas, although the Director went so far as to say that Muñoz would march toward the Department of Segovia in a few days, and something might be done after his departure in furnishing force for the Meridional Department. Walker then, to the chagrin of Castellon, determined to counter-march to Chinandega.

Orders were issued to the Falange to prepare for marching, and requisitions were made on the prefect for horses and ox carts, but hours passed and the carts did not make their appearance. All at once a section, consisting (in the Nicaraguan use of the term) of three hundred or three hundred and fifty men, marched into a strong house just opposite the quarters of the Americans. Walker immediately ordered the Falange to be on the alert, standing by their arms and ready for action. At the same time he sent word to Castellon that the movement of these troops was menacing and, unless they were ordered from their new position within an hour, the Falange would consider the force hostile and act accordingly. The native troops were immediately ordered from the building, and they marched out of the house less than an hour after they marched into it. Had Muñoz been able to take the Americans unawares, he would, in all probability, have disarmed them and sent them out of the country. Nor was it long after these troops evacuated the house opposite the Falange, before the carts, required for the march of the latter from Leon, were driven to their quarters. In a little while the Americans were on the road to Chinandega, keeping a sharp lookout to the rear and all the time prepared for any movement which might appear offensive. They arrived, however, at Chinandega without any incident worthy of notice.

Cole had remained in Leon with the view of securing certain modifications in the contract by which the Americans had entered the service of the Provisional Government. He easily obtained what he sought. The colonization grant was given up, and Walker was authorized to enlist three hundred men for the military service of the Republic, the State promising them one hundred dollars a month, and five hundred acres of land at the close of the campaign. Castellon also gave Walker authority to settle all differences and outstanding accounts between the Government and the Accessory Transit Company. These powers were necessary preliminaries to the effort for securing a position in the Meridional Department; and it was a fixed policy with Walker to get as near the Transit as possible, in order to recruit from the passengers to and from California, and to have the means of easy and rapid communication with the United States. So far as the Falange was concerned it was idle for them to waste their energies and strength on a campaign which did not bring them toward the Transit road.

As soon as Walker received the documents Cole brought from Leon he determined to return to the Meridional Department, whether he was or was not able to obtain aid for the expedition from the Provisional Government. It was necessary, however, to wait on events and choose the most opportune moment for carrying out the designs he had in view.