 23 The Hannibal of the Andes and the Freedom of Chile. At the end of 1816 the cause of liberty in Chile was at its lowest ebb. After four years of struggle the patriots had met with a crushing defeat in 1814 and had been scattered to the four winds. Since then the Viceroy of Spain had ruled the land with an iron hand, many of the leading citizens being banished to the desolate island of Juan Fernandez, the imaginary scene of Robinson Crusoe's career, while many others were severely punished and all the people were oppressed. In this depressed state of Chilean affairs a hero came across the mountains to strike a new blow for liberty. Don Jose de San Martín had fought valiantly for the independence of Buenos Aires at the Battle of San Lorenzo. Now the Argentine Patriots sent him to the aid of their fellow patriots in Chile and Peru. Such was the state of the conflict in the latter part of 1816 when San Martín, collecting the scattered bands of Chilean troops and adding them to men of his own command, got together a formidable array five thousand strong. The liberating army of the Andes, these were called. An able organizer was San Martín and he put his men through a thorough course of discipline. Those he most depended on were the cavalry, a force made up of gauchos or cattlemen of the Pampas, whose life was passed in the saddle and who were genuine centaurs of the plains. San Martín had the Andes to cross with his army and this was a task like that which Hannibal and Bonaparte had accomplished in the Alps. He set out himself at the head of his cavalry on the 17th of January, 1817, the infantry and artillery advancing by a different route. The men of the army carried their own food consisting of dried meat and parched corn, and depots of food were established at intervals along the route, the difficulty of transporting provision trains being thus avoided. The field pieces were slung between mules or dragged on sledges made of tough hide and were hoisted or lowered by derricks when steep places were reached. Some two thousand cattle were driven along to add to their food supply. Thus equipped, San Martín's army set out on its difficult passage of the snow-topped Andes. He had previously sent over guerilla bands whose active movements thoroughly deceived the royalist generals as to his intended place of crossing. Onward went the cavalry, spurred to extraordinary exertion by the fact that provisions began to run short. The passes to be traversed, thirteen thousand feet high and white with perpetual snow, formed a frightful route for the horsemen of the plains, yet they pushed on over the rugged mountains with their yawning precipices so rapidly as to cover three hundred miles in thirteen days. The infantry advanced with equal fortitude and energy, and early in February the combined forces descended the mountains and struck the royalist army at the foot with such energy that it was soon fleeing in a total rout. So utterly defeated and demoralized were the royalists that Santiago the capital was abandoned and was entered by San Martín at the head of his wild gauchos and host of refugees on the fifteenth of February. His funds at this time consisted of the two doubloons remaining in his pocket, while he had no military chests, no surgeons, nor medicines for his wounded, and a very small supply of the indispensable requisites of an army. About all he had to depend on was the patriotism of his men and their enthusiasm over their brilliant crossing of the Andes and their easy victory over their foes. For the time being Chile was free. The royalists had vanished and the patriots were in full possession. Thirty or more years before a bold Irishman bearing the name of O'Higgins had come to Chile, where he quickly rose in position until he was given the title of Don Ambrosio, and attained successfully the ranks of Field Marshal of the Royal Army, Baron Marquis, and finally Viceroy of Peru. His son Don Bernardo was a man of his own type, able in peace and brilliant in war, and he was now made supreme dictator of Chile, an office which San Martín had refused. The banished patriots were brought home from their desert island, the royalists severely punished, and a new army was organized to dislodge the fragment of the Spanish army which still held out in the south. On the fifteenth of February, 1818, the anniversary of the decisive victory of the liberating army of the Andes, O'Higgins declared the absolute independence of Chile. A vote of the people was taken in a peculiar manner. Two blank books were opened for signatures in every city, the first for independence, the second for those who preferred the rule of Spain. For fifteen days these remained and then it was found that the first books were filled with names while the second had not a single name. This vote, O'Higgins declared, settled the question of Chilean freedom. The Spaniards did not think so, for Abascal, the energetic viceroy of Peru, was taking vigorous steps to win Chile back for the crown. Three months before he had received a reinforcement of 3,500 veterans from Spain, and these he sent to southern Chile to join the forces still in arms. United they formed an army of about 6,000 under General Osorio, the able commander who had subdued Chile in 1814. It was evident that the newly declared independence of Chile was to be severely tried. In fact, on the first meeting of the armies it seemed overthrown. On the nineteenth of March, San Martín's army, while in camp near Talca, was unexpectedly and violently attacked by the royalist troops, the onslaught being so sudden and furious, and the storm of cannon and musket shot so rapid and heavy that the patriot troops were stricken with panic, their divisions firing at each other as well as at the enemy. Within fifteen minutes the whole army was in full flight. The leaders bravely sought to stop the demoralized troops, but in vain. Oh, Higgins, those severely wounded, throwing himself before them without effect. Nothing could check them, and the defeat became in large measure a total rout. When news of this disaster reached Santiago, utter consternation prevailed. Patriots hastily gathered their valuables for flight, carriages of those seeking to leave the country thronged the streets, women wrung their hands in wild despair, the funds of the treasury were got ready to load on mules, the whole city was in a state of terrible anxiety. Several days passed before it was known what had become of San Martín. Then news arrived that he was at San Fernando, at the head of the right wing, three thousand strong. These had escaped the panic on account of two divisions of a sorio's army mistaking each other for the enemy and firing into their own ranks. In the confusion that ensued the right wing was led unbroken from the field. Also a dashing young cavalry officer named Rodriguez had done good work in checking the flight of the fugitives, and in a brief time had organized a regiment which he had named the Hosars of Death. Six days after the defeat General Oh Higgins made his appearance in Santiago. He was badly wounded, but was at once named dictator of the Republic. The next day San Martín, with a few of his officers, entered the city. Weiried and dusty with travel as he was, his cheery cry of La Patria Triomfa gave new heart to the people. For several days fragments of the routed army came pouring in, and ten days after the battle, Colonel Les Jerez arrived with the three thousand of the right wing. The patriot cause seemed far less hopeless than had been the case a week before. Yet it was evident that liberty could come only from strenuous exertion, and the people of wealth freely subscribed of their money, plate, and jewels for the cause. It was not long before a new army five thousand five hundred strong, freshly clothed, and in fair fighting condition, was gathered in a camp near the city. The artillery lost in the flight could not be replaced, but a few field pieces were secured. San Martín and Oh Higgins with other able officers were in command, and hope once more began to dawn upon despair. The enemy was known to be approaching, and the army was moved to a point about nine miles from the capital, occupying a location known as the farm of Espigol, where the coming enemy was awaited. On the afternoon of April third, Osorio crossed the Maipo, the patriot cavalry harassing his flank and rear as he advanced. On the fifth his army took up a position on the brow of a hill opposite that occupied by the patriot forces. Passing out from Santiago, there is a succession of white hills known as the Lorna Blanca, on one crest of which commanding the rows to the forts of the Maipo and to Santiago, the patriot army was encamped. The royalists occupied the crest in slope of an opposite ridge. Below them ran the Maipo with its forests and hills. As the sun rose on the morning of the fifth, San Martín saw with satisfaction the royalist force beginning to occupy the high ground in his front. With hopeful tone, he said, I take the sun to witness that the day is ours. As he spoke, the golden rays spread like a banner of light from crest to crest. At ten o'clock, when the movement of the armies began, he said with assurance, a half hour will decide the fate of Chile. A few words will serve to describe the positions of the armies. Each was more than five thousand strong, the patriot army somewhat the smaller. It had been greatly reduced by its recent defeat, the memory of which also hung about it like a cloud, while the royalists were filled with enthusiasm from their late victory. The royalist lines were about a mile in length, four squadrons of dragoons flanking their right wing and a body of lancers their left, while a battery occupied a hill on the extreme left. Confronting them were the patriots, the left commanded by General Alvorado, the center by Balquerí, the right by Las Heras, while Quintana headed the reserves. The battle opened with a brisk fire from the patriot artillery, and in about an hour the infantry forces joined in full action. As the royalists moved down the hill, they were swept with the fire of the patriot battery, while shortly afterwards the royal battery on the left was captured by a dashing cavalry charge, and the guns were turned against their own line. The center of the battle was a farmhouse on the Espejo estate, which was charged furiously by both sides, being taken and retaken several times during the day. Yet as the day went on, the advantage seemed to be on the side of Osorio, who held the field with the center and one wing of his army. Defeat seemed the approaching fate of the patriots. It came nearer, when the regiment of Negros which had for some time withstood the Burgos regiment, the flower of Osorio's force, gave way and retreated, leaving four hundred of its numbers stretched upon the field. The critical moment of the battle was now at hand. The Burgos regiment attempted to follow up its success by forming itself into a square for a decisive charge. In doing so, the Spanish lines were broken and thrown into temporary disorder. Colonel O'Brien, a gallant cavalry officer of Irish blood, took quick advantage of this. Joining his troops with Quintana's reserves, he broke in a fierce charge upon the Burgos regiment while in the act of reforming, and drove it back in complete confusion. This defeat of the choice corps of Osorio's army changed the whole aspect of affairs. The patriots, inspired with hope, boldly advanced and pressed their foes at all points. The Burgos troops sought refuge in the farmhouse, and were followed by the left, which was similarly broken and dispersed. The center kept up the action for a time, but with both wings in retreat, it also was soon forced back, and the whole royalist army was demoralized. The patriots did not fail to press their advantage to the utmost. On all sides, the royalists were cut down or captured until nearly half their force were killed and wounded, and most of the remainder taken prisoners. A stand was made by those at the farmhouse, but they were soon driven out, and about five hundred of them killed and wounded in the court and vineyard adjoining. Of the total army less than three hundred escaped, General Osorio and some other officers among them. These fled to Concepcion, and embarked from there to Peru. Of the patriots more than a thousand had fallen in the hot engagement. This brilliant and decisive victory, known as the Battle of the Maipo, gave San Martín immense renown, and justly so, for it established the independence of Chile. Nor was that all, for it broke the power which Abascal had long sustained in Peru, and opened the way for the freeing of that land from the rule of Spain. This feat also was the work of San Martín, who soon after invaded Peru and aided by a Chilean fleet conquered that land from Spain, proclaiming its independence to the people of Cusco on the 28th of July, 1821. Later on, indeed, its freedom was seriously threatened, and it was not until 1824 that General Bolivar finally won independence for Peru, in the victory of Ayucucho. Yet, famous as Bolivar became as the liberator of South America, some generous portion should rightly be accorded to San Martín, the liberator of Chile. CHAPTER XXIV This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Historical Tales Volume III Spanish American by Charles Morris CHAPTER XXIV Colony, Empire and Republic, Revolution in Brazil While the Spanish colonies of South America were battling for their liberties, the great Portuguese colony of Brazil was going through a very different experience. Bolivar and his compatriots were seeking to drive Spain out of America. On the contrary, we have the curious spectacle of Brazil swallowing Portugal, or at least its king and its throne, so that for a time the colony became the state and the state became the dependency. It was a marked instance of the tail wagging the dog. Brazil became the one empire in America and was destined not to become a republic until many years later. Such are the themes with which we here propose to deal. To begin this tale we must go back to those stirring times in Europe when Napoleon the Great Conqueror was in the height of his career and was disposing of countries at his will, much as a chess player moves the king, queen and knights upon his board. In 1807 one of his armies, led by Marshal Junot, was marching on Lisbon with the purpose of punishing Portugal for the crime of being a friend of the English realm. John, then the Prince Regent of Portugal, was a weak-minded, feeble specimen of royalty, who did not keep of one mind two days together. Now he clung to England. Now, scared by Napoleon, he claimed to be a friend of France, and thus he shifted back and forward until the French despot sent an army to his kingdom to help him make up his mind. The people were ready to fight for their country, but the Prince still wobbled between two opinions, until Junot had crossed the borders and was fast making his way to Lisbon. Prince John was now in a pitiable state. He shed tears over the fate of his country, but as for himself he wanted badly to save his precious person. Across the seas lay the great Portuguese colony of Brazil, in whose vast forest area he might find a safe refuge. The terrible French were close at hand. He must be a captive or a fugitive. In all haste he and his court had their treasures carried on a man of war in the Lisbon harbour and prepared for flight. Most of the nobility of the country followed him on ship board, the total Hagueira, embracing fifteen thousand persons who took with them valuables worth fifteen millions of dollars. On November 29th, 1807, the fleet set sail, leaving the harbour just as the advance guard of the French came near enough to gaze on its swelling sails. It was a remarkable spectacle, one rarely seen in the history of the world, that of a monarch fleeing from his country with his nobility and treasures to transfer his government to a distant colony of the realm. Seven weeks later the fugitives landed in Brazil, where they were received with an enthusiastic show of loyalty and devotion. John well repaid the loyal colonists by lifting their country into the condition of a separate nation. Its ports, hitherto reserved for Portuguese ships, were opened to the world's commerce. Its system of seclusion and monopoly was brought to a sudden end. Manufacturers were set free from their fetters. A national bank was established. Brazil was thrown open freely to foreigners. Schools and a medical college were opened, and every colonial restriction was swept away at a blow. Brazil was raised from a dependency to a kingdom at a word. John, while bearing the title of prince, was practically king, for his mother, the queen of Portugal, was hopelessly insane, and he ruled in her stead. He became actual king, as John VI, on the death of his mother in 1816, and as such he soon found trouble growing up around him. The Brazilians had been given so much that they wanted more. The opening of their country to commerce and travel had led in new ideas, and the people began to discover that they were the slaves of an absolute government. This feeling of unrest passed out of sight for a time, and first broke out in rebellion at Pernambuco in 1817. This was put down, but a wider revolt came on in 1820 and spread early in the next year to Rio de Janeiro, the capital, whose people demanded of their ruler a liberal constitution. A great crowd assembled in the streets, the frightened monarch taking refuge in his palace in the suburbs where he laid trembling with fear. Fortunately his son, Prince Pedro, was a man of more resolute character, and he quieted the people by swearing that his father and himself would accept the constitution they offered. Full of joy the throng marched with enthusiasm to the palace of the king, who on seeing them approach was not sure whether he was to be garoted or guillotined. Forced to get into his carriage he quite mistook their meaning, and fell into a paroxysm of terror when the people took out the horses that they might draw him to the city with their own hands. He actually fainted from fright, and when his senses came back he sat sobbing and sniveling, protesting that he would agree to anything, anything his dear people wanted. King John by this time had had quite enough of Brazil in the Brazilians. As soon as he could decide on anything he determined to take his throne and his crown back to Portugal, whence he had brought them fourteen years before, leaving his son Pedro, young, ardent and popular, to take care of Brazil in his stead. But the people were not satisfied to let him go until he had given his royal warrant to the new constitution, and just before he was ready to depart a crowd gathered round the palace demanding that he should give his assent to the charter of the people's rights. He had never read it and likely knew very little what it was about, but he signed what they asked for all the same, and then made haste on ship-board, leaving Prince Pedro as regent and is glad to get away from his loyal Brazilians as he had once before been to get away from Junot and his Frenchmen. Brazil again became a colony of Portugal, but it was not long to remain so. The Cortes of Portugal grew anxious to milk the colonial cow and passed laws to bring Brazil again under despotic control. One of these required the young prince to leave Brazil. They were laying plans to throw the great colony back into its former state. When news of these acts reached Rio the city broke into a tumult. Pedro was begged not to abandon his loving people, and he disagreed, thus defying the Cortes and its orders. This was on January 9, 1822. The Cortes, next, to carry out its work for the subjugation of Brazil, sent a squadron to bring back the prince. This forced him to take a decided stand. On May 13 he took the title of Perpetual Defender and Protector of Brazil, and on the 7th of September when word came that the Cortes had taken still more violent action he drew his sword in the presence of a party of revolutionists with the exclamation, independence or death. On the 12th of the following month he was solemnly crowned as Pedro I, Constitutional Emperor of Brazil, and the revolution was consummated. Within less than a year thereafter not a hostile Portuguese soldier remained in Brazil, and it had taken its place definitely among the nations of America. This is but half the story of Brazil's struggle for freedom. It seems advisable to tell the other half which took place in 1889, sixty-seven years after the first revolution. The first made Brazil an independent empire. The second made it a republic, and brought it into line with the republican nations of America. And in connection therewith a peculiar fate attended the establishment of monarchy in Brazil. We have seen how John the First Emperor left his country for the country's good. The same was the ease with his two successors, Pedro I and Pedro II. Pedro I took the throne with loud-mouth declarations of his aspirations for liberty. He was going to be a second Washington. But it was all empty talk, the outpourings of a weak brain and a mere dramatic posing to which he was given. His ardor for liberty soon cooled, and it was not long before he was treating the people like a despot. The Constitution promise was not given until it was fairly forced from him, and then it proved to be a worthless document made only to be disregarded. A congress was called into being, but the emperor wished to confine its functions to the increase of the taxes, and matters went on from bad to worse until by 1831 the indignation of the people grew intense. The troops were in sympathy with the multitude, and the emperor finding that he stood alone against the country, finally abdicated the throne in haste, in favor of his infant son. He took refuge on a British warship in the harbor and left the country never to return. The remainder of his short life was spent as king of Portugal. Dom Pedro II was a very different man from his father. Studious, liberal, high-minded. He did not, like his father, stand in the way of the congress and its powers. But for all his liberality, Brazil was not satisfied. All around it were republics, and the spirit of republicanism invaded the empire and grew apace. From the people it made its way into the army, and in time it began to look as if no other emperor would be permitted to succeed Dom Pedro on the throne. By this time he was growing old and feeble, and there was a general feeling that he ought to be left to end his reign undisturbed, and the republic be founded on his grave. Unfortunately for him, many began to believe that a plot was in the air to make him give up the throne to his daughter Isabel. She was unpopular, and her husband, the Count de U, was hated, and when the ministry began to send the military away from the capital as if to carry out such a plot, an outbreak came. Its leaders were Benjamin Constant, formerly a professor in the military school, and Marshall de Odoro de Fonsaca, one of the leading officers of the army. There was one brigade they could count on the second, and all the forces in Ria were republican in sentiment. On the 14th of November, 1889, a rumor spread about that Constant and de Odoro were to be arrested and the disaffected soldiers to be sent away. It was time to strike. Early the next morning, Constant rode out to the quarters of the second brigade, called it out, and led it to the great square in front of the War Department building. De Odoro took command and sent an officer into the building to demand the surrender of the ministry. They yielded and telegraphed their resignation to the emperor, who was at Petropolis 25 miles away in the mountains. The revolution was phenomenally successful. When the other troops in the city heard of the revolt, they marched cheering through the streets to join the second brigade, while the people, who did not dream of what was afoot, looked on in astonishment. No one thought of resting, and when Dom Pedro reached the city at three o'clock in the afternoon, it was defined that he was no longer emperor. A provisional government had been organized. The chiefs of the revolution had named themselves ministers, and they had taken possession of the public buildings. A decree was issued that Brazil had ceased to be an empire, and had become a federal republic. So great a change has rarely been accomplished so easily. A few friends visited the emperor, but there was no one to strike a blow for him, and the feeble old man cared too little for power to wish to be kept on the throne by the shedding of blood. That night, word was sent him that he had been deposed and would be compelled to leave the country with his family. During the next night, the royal victims of the revolution were sent on shipboard, and their voyage to Lisbon began. Thus was the third emperor sent out of Brazil through a bloodless revolution. Yet the reaction was to come. A federal republic was organized, with a constitution closely like that of the United States. But the men at the head of the government had the army at their back, and were rather military dictators than presidents. And it was not long before rebellions broke out in some of the states. For three years there was war between the two factions of the people, with frightful destruction of life and property. Then in September 1893 the navy rebelled. The navy had always been officered by aristocrats and looked with contempt upon the army. At its head was Admiral Mayo, his ships lay in the harbor of Rio and their guns commanded the city. It soon became evident that it was the purpose of Mayo and his friends to re-establish the empire and bring back Dom Pedro to the throne. But the rebel Admiral found himself in a difficult situation. He hesitated about bombarding the city which was full of his friends. Peixoto, the president, filled the forts with soldiers and the naval officers had much trouble to obtain supplies. Mayo, finding himself in a dilemma, left the harbor with one of his ironclads and went to Santa Caterina. Sarajeva, an able chief of his party, invaded this and the neighboring districts, but he was hotly pursued and his forces defeated, and Mayo returned to Rio without having gained any advantage. Here he found his position a very awkward one. The rebels were all afloat, they had nothing to gain by bombarding the city. The best they could do was to try and establish a commercial blockade so as to force the government to terms, and in doing this Mayo found himself running up against the power of the United States. We have given these incidents not so much for the interests that they may have in themselves, but because they lead up to a dramatic finale which seems worth relating. There were warships of several nations in the harbor, the officers of most of which accorded the rights of belligerence to the rebel navy, though it had not a foot of land under its control. Saldana de Gama, then in command of the ships, refused permission to any merchant vessel to go to the wars to deliver its cargo, threatening to fire on anyone that should venture. Thus the fleet of merchant men was forced to lie out in the bay and await the end of the war in spite of the fact that yellow fever was making havoc among the crews. The captains of the American merchant ships applied for protection to the senior American officer present, but he refused to interfere and the commercial blockade went on. Such was the state of affairs when the United States Admiral Andrew E. Benham appeared in the harbor and took in the situation. He was a man to accept responsibilities. Go in, he said to the American captains, trust me to protect you from attack or to revenge you if injured. This promise put new spirit into the captains. Captain Blackford, of the Bark Amy, and two other captains gave notice on Sunday, January 29, 1894 that they would take their ships into the wharves the next morning. When de Gama heard of this he announced that he would fire on any vessel that dared attempt it. When Monday morning dawn there was a state of excitement in Rio de Janeiro harbor. De Gama might keep his word and what would the American Admiral do in that event? The commanders of the other war vessels looked on with interest and anxiety. They soon saw that Benham meant business. The dawn of day showed active movements in the small American squadron. The ships were clearing for action and the cruiser Detroit took a position from which she could command two of de Gama's vessels, the Guanabara and the Torjano. When the Detroit was in position the Amy began to warp in towards the pier. A musket shot came in warning from the deck of the Guanabara. Instantly from the Detroit a ball hurtled past the bow of the Brazilian ship, a second follow that struck her side. Seeing that two Brazilian tugs were moving inward as if with intent to ram his vessel, Captain Brownson of the Detroit took his ship in between the two Brazilian war vessels in a position to rake them and their supporting tugs. This decisive act ended the affair. De Gama's guns remained silent and the Amy, followed by the other two vessels, made her way unharmed to the wharves. Others followed and before night all the British and other merchant men in the harbor were hastening in to discharge their cargoes. Benham had brought to a quick end the intolerable situation in Rio de Janeiro harbor. This ended the last hope of the naval revolutionists to bring Pejoto to terms. Some of the ironclads escaped from the harbor and fled to Santa Catarina, where they were captured by the Republicans. A few months suffice to bring the revolt to an end, and Republicanism was at length firmly established in Brazil. CHAPTER XXV Among the varied countries of South America, the Little Republic of Paraguay, clipped closely in between Bolivia, Argentina and Brazil, presents the most singular history, this being due to the remarkable career of the dictator Francia, who ruled over it for a quarter of a century, and to the warlike energy of his successor Lopez. The tyranny of Francia was one of the strangest which history records, no man ever ruling with more absolute authority and more capricious cruelty. For many years Paraguay was completely cut off by him from the rest of the world, much as Japan was until open to civilization by Commodore Perry. Unlucky was the stranger who then dared set foot on Paraguayan soil. Many years might pass before he could see the outer world again. Such was the fate of Bonpland, the celebrated botanist and companion of Humboldt, who rashly entered this forbidden land and was forced to spend ten years within its locked confines. Such is the country and such was the singular policy of its dictator, whose strange story we have here to tell. In May 1811 Paraguay joined the other countries of South America in the general revolt against Spain. There was here no invasion and no bloodshed. The armies of Spain were kept too busy elsewhere and the revolution was accomplished in peace. A governing committee was formed with Fulgincio Yegros for its chairman and José Gaspar Rodriguez de Francia for its secretary. The first was a man of little ability. The latter was a man whose powers will soon be seen. The committee decreed the independence of Paraguay. Two years later a new convention was held which dissolved the committee and elected two consuls, Yegros and Francia, to govern the country. Two chairs were made for them resembling the curial chairs of Rome and called Caesar's and Pompey's chairs. On entering office Francia coolly seated himself in Caesar's chair, leaving that of Pompey for his associate. This action showed the difference in force of character between the two men. In fact Francia quickly took possession of all the powers of government. He was a true Caesar. He appointed a secretary of state, undertook to reorganize the army and the finances and deprived the Spaniards in the country of all civil rights. This was done to gain the support of the Indian population who hated the Spaniards bitterly. He soon went farther. Yegros was in his way and he got rid of him, making the simple-minded and ignorant members of the Congress believe that only a sovereign magistrate could save the country which was then threatened by its neighbors. In consequence, on the 8th of October, 1814, Francia was made dictator for three years. This was not enough to satisfy the ambitious ruler and he played his cards so shrewdly that on the 1st of May, 1816, a new Congress proclaimed him the supreme and perpetual dictator. It was no common man who could thus induce the Congress of a Republic to raise him to absolute power over its members and the people. Francia at that time was 59 years of age, a lean and vigorous man of medium stature, with piercing black eyes but accountants not otherwise marked. The son of a Frenchman who had been a tobacco manufacturer in Paraguay, he was at first intended for the church but subsequently studied the law. In this profession he had shown himself clever, eloquent and honorable, and always ready to defend the poor and weak against the rich. It was the reputation thus gained which first made him prominent in political affairs. Once raised to absolute power for life, Francia quickly began to show his innate qualities. Love of money was not one of his faults, and while strictly economical with the public funds, he was free-handed and generous with his own. Thus, of the nine thousand pesos of annual salary assigned him, he would accept only three thousand and made it a strict rule to receive no present, either returning or paying for any sent him. At first he went regularly every day to mass, but he soon gave up this show of religious faith and dismissed his private chaplain. In fact, he grew to despise religious forms and took pleasure in ridiculing the priests, saying that they talked about things and represented mysteries of which they knew nothing. The priests and religion, he said, served more to make men believe in the devil than in God. Of the leading principle of Francia's political system we have already spoken, it had been the policy of the old Jesuit missions to isolate the people and keep them in strict obedience to the priesthood, and Francia adopted a similar policy. Anarchy prevailed without, he said, and might penetrate into Paraguay. Brazil, he declared, was seeking to absorb the country. With these excuses he forbade under the severest penalties, intercourse of any character between the people of Paraguay and those of neighbouring countries, and the entry of any foreigner to the country under his rule. In 1826 he decreed that anyone who, calling himself an envoy from Spain should dare to enter Paraguay without authority from himself, should be put to death and his body denied a burial. The same severe penalty was decreed against any native who received a letter speaking of political affairs, and did not at once present it to the public tribunals. These rigid orders were probably caused by some mysterious movements of that period which made him fear that Spain was laying plans to get possession of the country. In the same year the dictator made a new move in the game of politics. He called into being a kind of national assembly professed to submit to its authority and ratified a declaration of independence. Just why this was done is not very clear. Certain negotiations were going on with the Spanish government and these may have had something to do with it. At any rate, a timely military conspiracy was just then discovered or manufactured. A colonel was condemned to death and Francia was pressed by the assembly to resume his power. He consented with the show of reluctance and only, as he said, till the Marquis de Guarini, his envoy to Spain, should return when he would yield up his rule to the Marquis. All this, however, was probably a mere dramatic move and Francia had no idea of yielding his power to anyone. The dictator had a policy of his own, in fact, a double policy, one devoted to dealing with the land and its people, one to dealing with his enemies or those who questioned his authority. The one was as arbitrary the other as cruel as that of the tyrants of Rome. The crops of Paraguay, whose wonderful soil yields two harvests annually, were seized by the dictator and stored on account of the government. The latter claimed ownership of two-thirds of the land and a communal system was adopted under which Francia had disposed at will of the country and its people. He fixed a system for the cultivation of the fields, and when hands were needed for the harvest he enlisted them forcibly. Yet agriculture made little progress under the primitive methods employed, a broad board serving for a plow, while the wheat was grown in mortars, and a piece of wood moved by oxen formed the sugar mill. The cotton, as soon as picked from the pods, was spun on the spinning wheel and then woven by a travelling weaver, whose rude apparatus was carried on the back of an ox or a mule, and when in use, was hung from the branch of a tree. Commerce was dealt with in the same way as agriculture. The market was under Francia's control, and all exchange of goods was managed under rules laid down by him. He found that he must open the country in a measure to foreign goods if he wanted to develop the resources of the country, and a channel of commerce was opened on the frontier of Brazil. But soldiers vigilantly watched all transactions, and no one could act as a merchant without a license from him. He fixed a tariff on imports, kept them in a bazaar under military guard, and sold them to the people, limiting the amount of goods which any of his subjects could purchase. As a result of all this, Francia brought about a complete cessation of all private action, the state being all, and he being the state. All dealing for profit was paralyzed, and the agriculture and commerce alike made no progress. On the other hand, everything relating to war was developed. It was his purpose to cut off Paraguay completely from foreign countries and to be fully prepared to defend it against war-like invasion. Of his books, the one he most frequently consulted was a French dictionary of the arts and industries. From this he gained the idea of founding public workshops in which the workmen were stimulated to activity alike by threats and money. At one time he condemned a black ship to hard labour for awkwardness. At another, when he had erected a gallows, he proposed to try it on a shoemaker if he did not do his work properly, while promising to richly reward him if he did. Military roads were laid out, the capital and other cities were fortified, and a new city was built in the north, as a military post to keep the savage Indians under control. As for the semi-civilized mission Indians, they were gradually brought under the yoke, made to work on the land, and enrolled in the army like other citizens. In this way, a body of twenty thousand militia and five thousand regular troops was formed, all being well-drilled, and the army supplied with an excellent cavalry force. The bodyguard of the dictator was made up of picked troops on whose fidelity he could rely. Francia dwelled in the palace of the old Spanish governors, tearing down adjoining houses to isolate it. Constantly fearful of death and danger he did not trust fully to his vigilant bodyguard, but nightly slept in a different room, so that his sleeping apartment should not be known. In this he resembled the famous Louis XI, whom he also imitated in his austerity and simplicity of manners, and the fact that his principal confidant was his barber, a mulatto inclined to drink. His other associate was Patinos, his secretary, who made the public suffer for any ill treatment of his master. The remainder of the despots household consisted of four slaves, two men and two women. In dress he strove to imitate Napoleon, whom he greatly admired, and when drilling his troops was armed with a large sword and pistols. There remains to tell the story of the cruelties of this Paraguayan Nero. With his suspicious nature and his absolute power his subjects had no more security for their lives than those of old Rome. Plots against his person which he identified with the State served him as a pretext for seizing and shooting or imprisoning any one of whom he was suspicious. One of his first victims was Yegros, his former associate in the consulate. Accused of favoring an invasion of Paraguay he and forty others were condemned to death in 1819. More than three hundred others were imprisoned on the same charge and were held captive for eighteen months, during which they were subjected by the tyrant to daily tortures. The ferocious dictator took special pleasure in the torment of these unfortunates, devising tortures of his own and making a diversion out of his revenge. From his actions it has been supposed that there were the seeds of madness in his mind and it is certain that it was in his frequent fits of hypochondria that he issued his discrees of prescription and carried out his excesses of cruelty. When in this condition sad was it for the heedless wretch who omitted to address him as your excellence, the supreme, most excellent lord and perpetual dictator. Equally sad was it for the man who, wishing to speak with him, dared to approach too closely and did not keep his hands well in view to show that he had no concealed weapons. Treason, daggers and assassins seemed the perpetual tenants of Francia's thoughts. One countrywoman was seized for coming too near his office window to present a petition, and he went so far on one occasion as to order his guard to fire on anyone who dared to look at his palace. Whenever he went abroad a numerous escort attended him and the moment he put his foot outside the palace the bell of the cathedral began to toll as a warning to all the inhabitants to go into their houses. Anyone found abroad bowed his head nearly to the ground not daring to lift his eyes to the dictator's dreaded face. It is certainly extraordinary that in the nineteenth century and in a little state of South America there should have arisen a tyrant equal in cruelty in his restricted sphere to the Nero and Caligula of old, or the Louis XI of medieval times. Death came to him in 1840 after twenty-six years of this absolute rule and in his eighty-third year. It came after a few days of illness during which he attended to business, refused assistance and forbade anyone not called by him to enter his room. Only the quick coming of death prevented him from ending his life with a crime, for in a fit of anger at the curandero, a sort of quack doctor who attended him, he sprang from his bed, snatched up his sword and rushed furiously upon the trembling wretch. Before he could reach his intended victim he fell down in a fit of apoplexy. No one dared to disregard his orders and come to his aid, and death soon followed. His funeral was splendid and a grand mausoleum was erected to him, but this was thrown down by the hands of some enemies unknown. Thus ended the career of this extraordinary personage, one of the most remarkable of characters of the nineteenth century. Carlos Antonio Lopez, his nephew, succeeded him, and in eighteen forty-four was chosen as the President of the Republic for ten years, during which he was as absolute as his uncle. He continued in power till his death in eighteen sixty-two, but put an end to the isolation of Paraguay, opening it to the world's commerce. He was succeeded by his son, Solana Lopez, whom we mention here simply from the fact that the war which Francia had so diligently prepared for came in his time. In eighteen sixty-four the question of the true frontier of the state brought on a war in which Brazil, the Argentine Republic, and Uruguay, combined to crush the little country in their midst. We need only say here that Lopez displayed remarkable powers as a soldier, appeared again and again in arms after seemingly crushing defeats, and fought off his powerful opponents for five years. Then, on the first of May eighteen seventy, he was slain in a battle in which his small army was completely destroyed. Paraguay, after a valorous and gigantic struggle, was at the mercy of the Allies. It was restored to national life again but under penalty of the great indemnity for so small a state of two hundred and thirty-six million pesos. End of Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six of Historical Tales, Volume Three, Spanish American This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Historical Tales, Volume Three, Spanish American, by Charles Morris Chapter Twenty-Six, Tacón the Governor and Marty the Smuggler In eighteen thirty-four, Don Miguel Tacón, one of the most vigorous and tyrannical of the Governor-Generals of Cuba, took control of the island, which he ruled with a stern will and an iron hand. One of the purposes in which he was most earnest was that of suppressing the active smuggling on the coast. All the naval vessels under his command being ordered to patrol the coast night and day, and to have no mercy on these lawless worthies. As it proved, all his efforts were of no avail. The smugglers continuing to ply their trade in spite of Tacón and his agents. The despoilers of the revenue were too daring and adroit, and too familiar with the shoals and rocks of the coast waters to be readily caught. And the lack of pilots familiar with this difficult navigation prevented any close approach to their haunts. In this dilemma, Tacón tried the expedient of offering a large and tempting reward to anyone who would desert the fraternity and agree to pilot the government vessels through the perilous channel which they frequented. Double this reward, an almost princely prize, was offered for the person of one Marty dead or alive. Tacón had good reason to offer a special reward for the arrest of Marty, who was looked upon as the leader and chief offender of the smugglers. A daring and reckless man, notorious as a smuggler and a half pirate, his name was as well known in Cuba as that of the Governor-General himself. The admirers of his daring exploits grew to know him as the King of the Isle of Pines, this island being his principal rendezvous, from which he sent his fleet of small, swift vessels to ply their trade on the neighboring coast. As for Tacón's rewards, they were long as ineffective as his revenue cutters and gunboats, and the government officials fell at length into a state of despair as to how they should deal with the nefarious and defiant band. One dark, dull night, several months after the placards offering these rewards had been posted in conspicuous places in Havana and elsewhere, two sentinels were pacing as usual before the Governor's palace, which stood opposite the grand plaza of the capital city. Shortly before midnight, a cloaked individual stealthily approached and slipped behind the statue of the Spanish King near the fountain in the plaza. From this lurking place he watched the movements of the sentinels as they walked until they met face to face, and then turned back to back for their brief walk in the opposite direction. It was a delicate movement to slip between the soldiers during the short interval when their eyes returned from the entrance, but the stranger at length adroitly affected it, darting lightly and silently across the short space and hiding himself behind one of the pillars of the palace before they turned again. During their next turn he entered the palace, now safe from their espionage, and sought the broad flight of stairs which led to the Governor's rooms, with the confidence of one thoroughly familiar with the place. At the head of the stairs there was another guard to be passed, but this the stranger did with a formal military salute and an air of authority as if his right to enter was beyond question. His manner quieted all suspicion in the mind of the sentinel, and the newcomer entered the Governor's room unchallenged, closing the door behind him. Before him sat the Governor General in a large easy chair, quite alone and busily engaged in writing. On seeing him thus unattended the weather-beaten face of the stranger took on a look of satisfaction. Evidently his secret plans had worked fully to his desire. Taking off his cloak he tossed it over his arm, making a noise that attracted the Governor's attention. Takon looked up in surprise, fixing his eyes keenly upon his unlooked-for visitor. Who is this that enters at this late hour without warning or announcement, he sternly asked, looking in doubt at the unknown face? One who brings information that the Governor General wants. You are he, I believe. I am. What do you want? And how did you, a stranger, pass my guard without challenge? That is not the question. Your Excellency, I understand, has offered a handsome reward to any one who will put you on the track of the rovers of the gulf. That is your errant, exclaimed Takon, with sudden interest. What know you of them? Excellency, I must speak with caution, said the stranger. I have my own safety to consider. That you need not fear. My offer of reward also carries pardon to the informant. If you are even a member of the Confederation itself, you will be safe in speaking freely. I understand you offer an additional reward, a rich one, for the discovery of Captain Marty, the Chief of the Smugglers. I do. You may fully trust in my promise to reward and protect any one who puts me on the track of that leader of the villains. Your Excellency, I must have special assurance for this. Do you give me your nightly word that you will grant me a free pardon for all the offences against the Customs, if I tell you all you wish to know, even to the most secret hiding places of the rovers? I pledge you my full word of honour for that, said the Governor, now deeply interested. You will grant me full pardon under the King's Seal, no matter how great my offences or crimes, if you call them so, may have been. If what you reveal is to the purpose, said Takon, wondering why his visitor was so unduly cautious, even if I were a leader among the rovers myself? Takon hesitated a moment, looking closely at the stalwart stranger while considering the purport of his words. Yes, he said at length. If you will lead our ships to the haunts of Marty and his followers, you can fully depend on the reward and the pardon. Excellency, I know you well enough to trust your word, or I should never have put myself in your power. You can trust my words, said Takon impatiently. Now come to the point, I have no time to waste. Your Excellency, the man for whom you have offered the largest reward, dead or alive, stands before you. Ha! you are Captain Marty. The Governor started in surprise and laid his hand hastily on a pistol that lay before him. But he regained his self-possession in a moment and solemnly said, I shall keep my promise if you keep yours. You have offended deeply, but my word is my law. But to ensure your faithfulness I must put you further present under guard. As you will, Your Excellency. Said Marty. Takon rang a bell by his side, an attendant entered, and soon after Marty was safely locked up, orders being given to make him comfortable until he was sent for. And so this strange interview ended. During the next day there was a commotion in the harbor of Havana, an armed revenue cutter which for weeks had lain idly under the guns of Moro Castle, became the scene of sudden activity, food, ammunition and other stores being taken on board. Before noon the anchor was weighed and she stood out into the open sea. On her deck was a man unknown to Captain or crew, otherwise than as the pilot of their crews. Marty was keeping his word. A skilled and faithful pilot he proved. Faithful to them, but faithful and treacherous to his late comrades and followers, for he guided the ship with wonderful ease and assurance through all the shoals and perils of the coast waters, taking her to the secret haunts of the rovers and revealing their depots of smuggled goods and secret hiding places. Many a craft of the smugglers was taken and destroyed and large quantities of their goods were captured, as for a month the raiding voyage continued. The returns to the government were of great value and the business of the smugglers was effectually broken up. At its end Marty returned to the governor to claim the reward for his base treachery. You have kept your word faithfully, said Takon. It is now for me to keep mine. In this document you will find a free and unconditional pardon for all the offences you have committed against the laws. As for your reward, here is an order on the treasury for— Will you excellently excuse me for interrupting, said Marty? I am glad to have the pardon, but as for the reward I should like to make you a proposition in place of the money you offer. What I ask is that you grant me the sole right to fish in the waters near the city, and declare the trade in fish contraband to any one except my agents. This will repay me quite well enough for my service to the government, and I shall build at my own expense a public market of stone, which shall be an ornament to the city. At the expiration of a certain team of years this market with all right and title to the fisheries shall revert to the government. Takon was highly pleased with this proposition. He would save the large sum which he had promised Marty, and the city would gain a fine fish market without expense. So after weighing fully all the pros and cons, Takon assented to the proposition, granting Marty in full legal form the sole right to fish near the city and to sell fish in its markets. Marty knew far better than Takon the value to him of this concession. During his life as a rover he had become familiar with the best fishing grounds, and for years furnished the city bountifully with fish, reaping a very large profit upon his enterprise. At the close of the period of his monopoly the market and privileges reverted to the government. Marty had all he needed and was now a man of large wealth. How he should invest it was the question that next concerned him. He finally decided to try and obtain the monopoly of theatrical performances in Havana, on condition of building there one of the largest and finest theaters in the world. This was done, paying the speculator a large interest on his wealth, and he died at length rich and honored, his money serving as a gravestone for his sins. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Of Historical Tales, Volume 3 Spanish American This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Historical Tales, Volume 3 Spanish American by Charles Morris Chapter 27 Cairneys, Daring Expedition, and the Conquest of New Mexico We have told the story of the remarkable expedition of Vasquez de Coronado from Mexico northward to the prairies of Kansas. We have now to tell the story of an expedition which took place three centuries later, from this prairie land to the once famous region of the seven cities of Cebuola. In 1542 when Coronado traversed this region he founded inhabited by tribes of wandering savages living in rude wigwams. In 1846 when the return expedition set out, it came from a land of fruitful farms and populous cities. Yet it was to pass through a country as wild and uncultivated as that which the Spaniards had traversed three centuries before. The invasion of Mexico by the United States armies in 1846 was made in several divisions, one being known as the Army of the West led by Colonel Stephen W. Kearney. He was to march to Santa Fe, seize New Mexico, and then push on and occupy California, both of which were then provinces of Mexico. It was an expedition in which the soldiers would have to fight far more with nature than with man, and force their way through desolate regions and over deserts rarely trodden by the human foot. The invading army made its rendezvous at Fort Leavenworth on the Missouri River in the month of June 1846. It consisted of something over sixteen hundred men, all from Missouri, and all mounted except one battalion of infantry. Accompanying it were sixteen pieces of artillery. A march of two thousand miles in length lay before this small core, much of it through the land of the enemy, where much larger forces were likely to be met. Before the adventurers, after the green prairies had been passed, lay hot and treeless plains and mountain ranges in whose passes the wintry snow still lingered, while savage tribes and hostile Mexicans, whose numbers were unknown, might make their path one of woe and slaughter. Those who gathered to see them start, looked upon them as heroes who might never see their homes again. On the twenty-sixth of June the main body of the expedition began its march, taking the trail of a provision train of two hundred wagons and two companies of cavalry sent in advance, and followed three days later by Kearney with the rear. For the first time in history an army under the American standard, and with all the bravery of glittering guns and floating flags, was traversing those ancient plains. For years the Santa Fe trail had been a synonym for deeds of horror, including famine, bloodshed, and frightful scenes of Indian cruelty. The bones of men and of beasts of burden paved the way and served as a gruesome pathway for the long line of marching troops. The early route led now through thick timber, now over plains carpeted with tall grasses, now across ravines and creeks, now through soft ground in which the laden wagons sank to their axels and tamed the horses severely to pull them out. To draw the heavy wagons up the steep ridges of the table-lands, the tugging strength of a hundred men was sometimes needed. Summer was now on the land, and for days together the heat was almost unbearable. There was trouble too with the cavalry horses, raw animals unused to their new trappings and discipline, and which often broke loose and scampered away, only to be caught by dint of weary pursuit and profane ejaculations. For six hundred miles the column traversed the great Santa Fe trail without sight of habitation and over a dreary expanse. No break to the monotony appearing until their glad eyes beheld the fertile and flowery prairies surrounding Fort Bent on the Arkansas. Here was a rich and well-watered level with clumps of trees and refreshing streams forming convenient halting places for rest and bathing. As yet there had been no want of food, a large merchant train of food wagons having set out in advance of their own provision train, and for a few days life ceased to be a burden and became a pleasure. They needed this refreshment sadly, for the journey to Fort Bent had been one of toil and hardships of burning suns and the fatigue of endless dreary miles. The wagon trains were often far in advance, and food at times grew scanty, while the scarcity of fuel made it difficult to warm their sparse supplies. During part of the journey they were drenched by heavy rains. To these succeeded days of scorchingly hot weather bringing thirst in its train and desert mirages which cheated their suffering souls. When at length the Arkansas river was reached, men and animals alike rushed madly into its waters to slake their torments of thirst. At times their root led through great herds of grazing buffaloes which supplied the hungry men with sumptuous fare, but most of the time they were forced to trust to the steadily diminishing stores of the provision wagons. This was especially the case when they left the grassy and flowery prairie and entered upon an arid plain on which for months of the year no drop of rain or dew fell, while the whitened bones of men and beasts told a former havoc of starvation and drought. The heated surface was in places encrusted with alkaline earth worn into ash-like dust, or paved with pebbles blistering hot to the feet. At times these were diversified by variegated ridges of sandstone, blue, red, and yellow in hue. A brief period of rest was enjoyed at Fort Bent, but on the second of August the column was on the trail again, the sick and worn out being left behind. As they proceeded the desert grew more arid still. Neither grass nor shrubs was to be found for the famishing animals. The water, what little there was, proved to be muddy and bitter. The wheels sank deep in the pulverized soil, and men and beasts alike were nearly suffocated by the clouds of dust that blew into their eyes, nostrils, and mouths. Glad were they, when after three days of this frightful passage they halted on the welcome banks of the purgatoire, a cool mountain stream, and saw rising before them the snowy summits of the lofty simmerone and Spanish peaks, and knew that the desert was past. The sight of the rugged mountains infused new energy into their weary souls, and it was with fresh spirit that they climbed the rough hills leading upward toward the Raton Pass, emerging at length into a grand mountain amphitheater closed in with steep walls of basalt and granite. They seemed to be in a splendid mountain temple in which they enjoyed their first Sunday's rest since they had left Fort Leavenworth. The food supply had now fallen so low that the rations of the men were reduced to one-third the usual quantity. But the new hope in their hearts helped them to endure this severe privation, and they made their way rapidly through the mountain gorges and over the plains beyond, covering from seventeen to twenty-five miles a day. Ammunition had diminished as well as food, and the men were forbidden to waste any on game, for news had been received that the Mexicans were gathering to dispute their path, and all their powder and shot might be needed. The vicinity of the Mexican settlements was reached on August fourteenth, and their desert weary eyes beheld with joy the first cornfields and gardens surrounding the farmhouses and the valleys, while groves of cedar and pine diversified the scene. With new animation the troops marched on, elated with the tidings which now reached them from the north, that Colonel Kearney had been raised to the rank of Brigadier General, and a second item of news to the effect that two thousand Mexicans held the cannons six miles beyond Las Vegas, prepared to dispute its passage. This was what they had come for, and it was a welcome diversion to learn that the weariness of marching was likely to be diversified by a season of fighting. They had made the longest march ever achieved by an American army, nearly all of it through a barren and inhospitable country, and it was with genuine elation that they pressed forward to the cannon, hopeful of having a brush with the enemy. They met with a genuine disappointment when they found the past empty of foes. The Mexicans had failed to await their coming. Kearney had already begun his prescribed work of annexing New Mexico to the United States, the Alcalde and the prominent citizens of Las Vegas having taken an oath of allegiance to the laws and governments of the United States. As they marched on a similar oath was administered at San Miguel and Picos and willingly taken. Here the soldiers fairly reveled in the fresh vegetables, milk, eggs, fruits, and chickens, which the inhabitants were glad to exchange for the money of their new guests. Orders had been given that all food and forage obtained from the peaceable inhabitants should be paid for, and Kearney saw that this was done. At Picos they had their first experience of the antiquities of the land. Here was the traditional birthplace of the great Montezuma, the ancient temple still standing, whose sacred fire had been kindled by that famous monarch and kept burning for long years after his death, in the hope that he would come again to deliver his people from bondage. At length, as tradition held, the fire was extinguished by accident, and the temple and village were abandoned. The walls of the temple still stood, six feet thick and covering with their rooms and passages a considerable space. The Pueblo Indians of the region had refused to fight for the Mexicans, for tradition told them that a people would come from the east to free them from the Spanish rule, and the prophecy now seemed about to be fulfilled. The next hostile news that reached the small army was to the effect that seven thousand Mexicans awaited them in Galisteo Canon, fifteen miles from Santa Fe. This was far from agreeable tidings since the Mexicans far outnumbered the Americans, while the pass was so narrow that a much smaller force might have easily defended it against numerous foes. The pass had been fortified and the works there amounted with six pieces of cannon placed to make havoc in the invaders' ranks. Fortunately, once more the advancing troops found a strong pass undefended. The Mexican officers had quarrelled and the privates who felt no enmity towards the Americans had left them to fight it out between themselves. Deserted by his soldiers, Governor Armijo escaped with a few dragoons, and the Americans marched unmolested through the pass. On the same day they reached Santa Fe, taking peaceful possession of the capital of New Mexico and the whole surrounding country, in the name of the United States. Not for an hour had the men halted that day, the last of their worrisome march of nine hundred miles, which had been completed in about fifty days. So exhausting had this final day's march proved that many of the animals sank down to die and the men flung themselves on the bare hillside without food or drink, glad to snatch a few hours of sleep. As the flag of the United States was hoisted in the public square, a national salute of twenty-eight guns was fired from a nearby hill, and the cavalry rode with waving banners and loud cheers through the streets. They had caused for great gratulation, for they had achieved a remarkable feat and had won a great province without the loss of a single man in battle. By the orders of General Kearney a flagstaff one hundred feet high was raised in the plaza for the American flag, and the oath of allegiance was taken by the officials of the town. They were willing enough to take it since their new masters left them in office while the people, who had been told that they would be robbed and mercilessly treated, hailed the Americans as deliverers rather than as enemies. The same was the case with all the surrounding people, who, when they found that they would be paid for their provisions and be left secure in their homes, settled down in seeming high goodwill under the new rule. Santa Fe, at that time, contained about six thousand inhabitants. After St. Augustine it was the oldest city within the limits of the United States. When the Spaniards founded it in 1582, it was built on the site of one of the old Indian Pueblos, whose date went back to the earliest history of the country. The Spanish town, the royal city of the Holy Faith, la Vila Real de Santa Fe, as they called it, was also full of the flavor of antiquity, with its low adobe houses and its quaint old churches built nearly three centuries before. These were of rude architecture and hung with battered old bells, but they were ornamented with curiously carved beams of cedar and oak. The residences were as quaint and old-fashioned as the churches, and the abundant relics of the more ancient Indian inhabitants gave the charm of a double antiquity to the place. From Santa Fe as a center, General Kearney sent out expeditions to put down all reported risings through the province, one of the most important of these being to the country of the warlike Navajo Indians, who had just made a raid on New Mexico, driving off ten thousand cattle and taking many captives. The answer of one of the Navajo chiefs to the officers of the expedition is interesting. Americans, you have a strange cause of war against the Navajos, he said. We have waged war against the New Mexicans for several years. You now turn upon us for attempting to do what you have done yourselves. We cannot see why you have cause of quarrel with us for fighting the New Mexicans in the West while you do the same thing in the East. We have no more right to complain of you for interfering in our war than you have to quarrel with us for continuing a war we had begun long before you got here. If you will act justly, you will allow us to settle our own differences. The Indians, however, in the end, agreed to let the New Mexicans alone as American citizens, and the matter was amicably settled. We may briefly conclude the story of Kierney's expedition which was but half done when Santa Fe was reached. He was to continue his march to California and set out for this purpose on the 25th of September, on a journey as long and difficult as that he had already made. He reached the California soil only to find that Colonel Fremont had nearly finished the work set for him, and a little more fighting added the great province of California to the American conquests. Thus had a small body of men occupied and conquered a vast section of northern Mexico and added some of its richest possessions to the United States. The ancient city of Mexico, the capital of the Aztecs and their Spanish successors, has been the scene of two great military events. It's siege and capture by Cortes the Conqueror in 1521, and it's capture by the American army under General Scott in 1847, three and a quarter centuries later. Of the remarkable career of Cortes we have given the most striking incident, the story of the thrilling Noche Trieste and the victory of Otumba. A series of interesting tales might have been told of the siege that followed, but we prefer to leave that period of medieval cruelty and injustice and come down to the events of a more civilized age. One of the most striking scenes in the campaign of 1847 was the taking of the fortified hill of Chapel Tepec, but before describing this we may briefly outline the events of which it formed the dramatic culmination. Vera Cruz, the city of the True Cross, founded by Cortes in 1520, was the scene of the American landing and was captured by the army under General Scott in March 1847. Then, marching inland, as Cortes had done more than three centuries before, the American army, about 12,000 strong, soon began to ascend the mountain slope leading from the torrid sea level plain to the high table-land of the old Aztec realm. Sixty miles from Vera Cruz the American forces came to the mountain pass of Cerro Gordo, where sent to Ana the President of Mexico awaited the invaders with an army of 13,000 men. The heights overhanging the road bristled with guns and the lofty hill of Cerro Gordo was strongly fortified, rendering the place almost impregnable to an attack from the direction of Vera Cruz. Scott was too able a soldier to waste the lives of his men in such a perilous assault and took the wiser plan of cutting a new road along the mountain slopes and through ravines out of sight of the enemy to the Jalapa road in the Mexican rear. An uphill charge from this point gave the Americans command of all the minor hills, leaving to the Mexicans only the height of Cerro Gordo with its entrenchments and the strong fortress on its summit. On the 18th of April this hill, several hundred feet in rugged height, was assailed in front and rear and the Americans gallantly climbing the steep rocks in the face of a deadly fire, carrying one barricade after another, and at length sweeping over the ramparts of the summit fortress and driving the defenders from their stronghold down the mountain sides. Santa Ana took with him only 8,000 men in his hasty retreat, leaving 3,000 as prisoners in the American hands, with 43 pieces of bronze artillery and a large quantity of ammunition. Within a month afterwards, Scott's army marched into the city of Puebla on the table-land, 68 miles from the capital. Here they rested for several months awaiting reinforcements. On August 7th the army resumed its march, now less than 11,000 strong, the term of several regiments having expired and their places being partly filled by untried men, none of whom had ever fired a gun in war. On they went uphill still, passing the remains of the old city of Cholula with its ruined Aztec Pyramid, and toiling through a mountain region till Rio Fria was reached, 50 miles from Puebla and more than 10,000 feet above the level of the sea. A few miles farther and the beautiful valley of Mexico they suddenly revealed before them like a vision of enchantment. It was the scene of verdant charm, the bright green of the fields and groves diversified, with the white walls of villages and farmhouses, the silvery flow of streams, and the gleaming surface of winding lakes, while beyond and around a wall of wooded mountains ascended to snowy peaks. It was a scene of summer charm that had not been gazed upon by an invading army, since the days when Cortez and his men looked down upon it with warm delight. The principal lakes visible were Lake Chalco with the long, narrow lake of Hochimilco near it, and seven miles to the north, Lake Tezcucco, near the western shore of which the city of Mexico was visible. Between Chalco and Tezcucco ran the national road, for much of its length a narrow causeway between borders of marshland. Near Lake Hochimilco was visible the Acapulco road. Strong works of defense commanded both these highways. Scott chose the Acapulco road for his route of approach, the national road being commanded by the lofty and strongly fortified hill of El Penón, precipitous on one side and surrounded by marshes and a deep ditch on the other. The Acapulco road was defended by strongly garrisoned fortresses at Contreras and Churibusco, but seemed more available than the other route. Still farther north and west of the capital was a third approach to it over the road to Toluca, defended by works at Molino del Rey and by the fortified hill of Chapultepe. It was evident that the army under Scott would go through some severe and sanguinary fighting before the city could be reached. It is not our purpose to describe the various engagements by which this work was accomplished. It must suffice to say that the strong hill fort of Contreras was taken by surprise, being approached by a road leading to its rear during the night and taken by storm at sunrise, 17 minutes sufficing for the important victory. The garrison fled in Desmae after losing heavily. An advance was made the same day on the nearby Mexican works at San Antonio and Churibusco, and with the same result. The garrison at San Antonio, fearful of being cut off by the American movement, evacuated the works and retired upon Churibusco, hotly pursued. The Americans, inspired by success, carried all before them, taking the works at the bridge of Churibusco by an impetuous charge and soon putting the enemy to flight. Meanwhile, General Shield attacked the Mexican reserve consisting of 4,000 infantry and 3,000 cavalry, whose line was broken by a bayonet charge. The whole Mexican force was, by these well-devised movements, forced back in terrible confusion and was quickly fleeing in panic. The fugitives were cut down by the pursuing Americans, who followed to the immediate defenses of the capital, where the pursuit was checked by a heavy fire of grapeshot. Thus, in one day, the Americans, 9,000 strong, had captured three strong positions held by three times their number, the Mexicans losing in killed, wounded, and prisoners over 6,000 men, while the American loss in killed and wounded was less than a thousand. Negotiations for peace followed, but they came to nothing, the armistice that had been declared terminating on the 7th of September. The problem that now lay before General Scott was a very different one from that which Cortez had faced in his siege of the city. In his day, Mexico was built on an island in the center of a large lake, which was crossed by a number of causeways broken at intervals by canals whose bridges could be removed. During the centuries that succeeded, this lake had disappeared, low, marshy lands occupying its site. The city, however, was still reached by causeways, eight in number, raised about six feet above the marsh level. In these ended the five main roads leading to the city. A large canal surrounded the capital and within its circle were smaller ones, all now filled with water, as this was the rainy season. The problem of bridging these under fire was one of the difficulties that confronted the Americans. General Scott decided to approach the city by the causeways of San Cosme, Belén, and Tacubaya, which were defended by formidable works, the outermost of which was Molina del Rey, a fortified position at the foot of a slope beyond which a grove of cypresses led to the hill of Chapultepic. It consisted of a number of stone buildings, some of which had been used as a foundry, but which were now converted into fortresses. This place was carried by a storm in the early morning of September 8th, and the stronger position of Casa de Mata, a quarter of a mile from Chapultepic, was captured by a fierce assault the same day. Only Chapultepic now lay between the Americans and the Mexican capital. The stronghold of Chapultepic, of which the places just taken were in the nature of outworks, remained to be captured before the city could be reached from that quarter. Chapultepic is an isolated rocky hill about one hundred and fifty feet in height, and was surmounted by a large stone building which had been used as the Bishop's Palace, but was now converted into a strong fortress. It was well prepared for defencing guns and garrison, and was the most difficult to win of the fortifications of the capital. The western side was the most accessible, but the face of this, above the grove of Cypresses which covered its base, presented a steep, rocky, and difficult ascent. To deceive the enemy, a feigned advance upon another section of the city was made on the 12th of September. The two divisions engaged in this returned that night to Takubaya, near Chapultepic, though a force still threatened the southern causeways. Four batteries had been posted within easy range of the castle of Chapultepic during the night of the eleventh, and all next day they kept up a steady fire upon it, driving its defenders back and partly wrecking the walls. On the morning of the thirteenth the batteries resumed their fire, while the forces chosen for the assault approached the hill from different directions through the fire of the enemy. Two assaulting columns of two hundred and fifty picked men each, from werths and twigs divisions, advanced with scaling ladders, while the batteries threw shot and shell over their heads to drive the defenders from the walls. Major General Pillow led his division through the grove on the east side, but he quickly fell with a dangerous wound, and General Cadwallader succeeded him. Before him was a broken and rocky ascent, with a redoubt midway and a tight. Up the steep rocks climbed the gallant stormers, broke into the redoubt with a wild cheer, and put its defenders to flight. On up the steep they then clambered, passing without injury the mines which the Mexicans had planted, but which they could not fire without killing their own men. In a few minutes more the storming party reached the summit and climbed over the castle walls with shouts of victory driving back its defenders. Soon the United States flag was seen floating over the ramparts, a roar of cheers greeting the inspiring spectacle. On the southeast, Quitman's column of assault was making like progress, while Smith's brigade captured two batteries at the foot of the hill on the right, and Shield's brigade crossed the meadows under a hot fire of musketry and artillery, and swept up the hill to the support of the stormers. Thus the capital of Chapultepec, the last and strongest citadel of the Mexicans, had fallen before an impetuous charge up a hill deemed inaccessible, in the face of a hot fire, and the city itself lay at the mercy of the invaders. The causeway which it defended formed a double roadway on each side of a great aqueduct with stone arches and pillars. Shields charged impetuously along this causeway toward the city, two miles distant, while Quitman pursued the fleeing enemy along the neighboring causeway of Belen. An aide sent by Scott came riding up to Shield's to bid him halt till Worth, who was following the San Cosine causeway, could force its defenses. The aide politely suited the eagerly advancing general and began. General Scott presents its compliments. I have no time for compliments just now, roared out Shield's, and spurred briskly onward to escape the unwelcome orders which he felt were coming. Soon he had led his men into the suburbs of the city, while Worth and Quitman charged inward over the neighboring causeways with equal impetuosity. A strong force was quickly within the streets of the city, assailed by skirmishers firing from houses and gardens, who could be reached only by forcing away in, with pickaxes and bars. Two guns were brought in by Worth's column, and planted in position to batter down the San Cosmay gate, the barrier to the great square in the city centre, and which fronted the Cathedral and Palace. Quitman and Shield's had to fight their way through as hot a fire, and as they charged inward found themselves before the Citadel, mounting fifteen guns. At this point a severe loss was sustained, but the assailants held their own, mounting guns to attack the Citadel the next morning. These guns were not used. Before daylight a deputation of the city council waited on General Scott and announced that the army had evacuated the city, and the government officials had fled. It was not long afterwards before the stars and stripes were floating over the national palace and in the great plaza. Fighting continued for a day longer between the Americans and about four thousand soldiers and liberated convicts, who fought with desperate fury for their country and were not put down without considerable loss. On the morning of September 16th the army of the United States held undisputed possession of the famous old capital of Mexico. Fighting continued, however, elsewhere for some months later, and it was not till the second of February, 1848, that a treaty of peace was signed. On the fifteenth of October, 1853, a small and daring band of reckless adventurers sailed from San Francisco on an enterprise seemingly madder and wilder than that which Cortez had undertaken more than three centuries before. The purpose of this handful of men, filibusters they were called, as lawless in their way as the buccaneers of old, was the conquest of northwest Mexico, possibly in the end of all Mexico and Central America. No one knows what wild vagaries filled the mind of William Walker their leader, the grey-eyed man of destiny, as his admirers called him. Landing at La Paz in the southwestern corner of the Gulf of California, with his few companions, he captured a number of hamlets and then grand eloquently proclaimed lower California an independent state and himself its president. His next proclamation annexed to his territory the large Mexican state of Sonora, on the mainland opposite the California Gulf and for a brief period he posed among the sparse inhabitants as a ruler. Some reinforcements reached him by water but another party that started overland was dispersed by starvation, their food giving out. Walker now set out with his buccaneering band on a long march of six hundred miles through a barren and unpeopled country toward his possessions in the interior. The Mexicans did not need any forces to defeat him. Fatigue and famine did the work for them. Desertion decimated the band of invaders and the hopeless march up the peninsula ended at San Diego, where he and his men surrendered to the United States authorities. Walker was tried at San Francisco in 1854 for violation of the neutrality laws but was acquitted. This pioneer attempted invasion only whetted Walker's filibustering appetite. Looking about for new worlds to conquer he saw a promising field in Nicaragua then torn by internal dissensions. Invited by certain American speculators or adventurers to lend his aid to the Democratic party of insurrectionists he did not hesitate but at once collected a band of men of his own type and set sail for this new field of labor and ambition. On the 11th of June 1855 he landed with his small force of sixty-two men at Realijo on the Nicaraguan coast and was joined there by about a hundred of the native rebels. Making his way inland his first encounter with the government forces took place at Rivas where he met a force of four hundred and eighty men. His native allies fled at the first shots but the Americans fought with such valor and energy that the enemy were defeated with a loss of one-third their number, his loss being only ten. In a second conflict at Virgin Bay he was equally successful and on the 15th of October he captured the important city of Granada. These few successes gave him such prestige and bought such aid from the revolutionists that the opposite party was quite ready for peace and on the 25th he made a treaty with General Corral its leader which made him fairly master of the country. He declined the office of president which was offered him but accepted that of General Isimo of the Republic and office better suited to maintain his position. His rapid success brought him not only the support of the liberal faction but attracted recruits from the United States who made their way into the country from the East and West alike until he had a force of twelve hundred Americans under his command. General Corral who had treated with him for peace was soon to pay the penalty for his readiness to make terms with an invader. He was arrested for treason on some charge brought by Walker tried before a court-martial at which the new General Isimo presided sentenced to death and executed without delay. The next event in this fantastic drama of filibusterism was a war with the neighboring Republic of Costa Rica. Both sides mustered armies and a hostile meeting took place at Guanacaste on March 20th 1856 in which Walker was worsted. He kept the field however and met the foe again at Rivas on April 11th. This time he was victorious and the two republics now made peace. His military success seemed to have made the invader securely the lord and master of Nicaragua and he now threw aside his earlier show of modesty and had himself elected president on June 25th. He had so fully established himself that he was recognized as head of the republic by President Pierce on behalf of the United States but he immediately began to act the master and tyrant in a way that was likely to bring his government to a speedy end. Money being scarce he issued currency on a liberal scale and by a decree he restored the system of slavery which had been abolished thirty-two years before. Not content with these radical measures within the republic itself he was unwise enough to create for himself a powerful enemy in the United States by meddling with the privileges of the Vanderbilt Steamship Company then engaged in transporting the stream of gold hunters to California over a Nicaraguan route. Walker revoked their charter and confiscated their property thus bringing against his new government a fire in the rear. His aggressive policy in fact made him enemies on all sides, the Central American States bordering on Nicaragua being in sore dread of their ambitious neighbor, while the agents of the Vanderbilt Company worked industriously to stir up a revolt against this soaring eagle of filibusterism. The result was a strong revolt against his rule and he soon found himself confronted by a force of patriots in the field. For a short time there were busy times in Nicaragua several battles being fought by the contending forces, the war ending with the burning of Granada by the president. Finding that the whole country was rising against him and that his case had grown desperate Walker soon gave up the hopeless contest and surrendered on May 1st 1857 to Commodore C. H. Davis of the United States loop of war St. Mary who took him to Panama where he made his way back to the United States. Thus closed the conquering career of this minor Cortez of the nineteenth century, but while Walker with the president was no more, Walker the filibuster was not squelched. The passion for adventure was as strong in his mind as ever and his brief period of power had roused in him an unquenchable thirst for rule. In consequence he made effort after effort to get back to the scene of his exploits and rise to power again, his persistent thirst for invasion giving the United States authorities no small trouble and ending only with his death. In fact he was barely at home before he was hatching new schemes and devising fresh exploits. To check a new expedition which he was organizing in New Orleans, the authorities of that city had him arrested and put under bonds to keep the peace. Soon after that we find him escaping their jurisdiction in a vessel ostensibly bound for Mobile, yet making port first in Central America where he landed on November 25th, 1857. This effort at invasion proved a mere flash in the pan. No support awaited him and his deluded followers and in two weeks time he found it judicious to surrender once more to the naval authorities of the United States, this time to Commodore Paulding who took him to New York with his followers, 132 in number. His fiasco stirred up something of a breeze in the United States. President Buchanan had strongly condemned the invasion of friendly territory in his annual message but he now sent a special message to Congress in which he equally condemned Commodore Paulding for landing an American force on foreign soil. He decided that under the circumstances the government must decline to hold Walker as a prisoner unless he was properly arrested under judicial authority. At the same time Buchanan strongly deprecated all filibustering expeditions. The result of this was that Walker was again set free and it was not long before he had a new following, there being many of the adventurous class who sympathized warmly with his enterprising efforts. This was especially the case in the South. Dither Walker proceeded and inspired by his old enthusiasm he soon organized another company which sought to leave the country in October 1858. He was closely watched however and the whole company was arrested at the mouth of the Mississippi on the steamer on which passage had been taken. President Buchanan had issued a proclamation forbidding all such expeditions and Walker was now put on trial before the United States court at New Orleans but the case against him seemed to lack satisfactory evidence and he was acquitted. Desisting for a time from his efforts Walker occupied himself in writing an account of his exploits in a book entitled The War in Nicaragua but this was far too tame work for one of his stirring disposition and in June 1860 he was off again, this time making Honduras the scene of his invading energy. Landing at Trujillo on this 27th, he seized that town and held it for eight weeks at the end of which time he was ordered to leave the place by the captain of a British man of war. The president of Honduras was rapidly approaching with a defensive force. Walker marched south but his force was too small to cope with the president's army and he had not gone far before he found himself a captive in the hands of the Honduran government. Central America had by this time more than enough of William Walker and his methods and five days after his capture he was condemned to death and shot at Trujillo. Thus ended the somewhat remarkable career of the chief of filibusters, the most persistent of modern invaders of foreign lands whose reckless exploits were of the medieval rather than of the modern type. A short slender not especially demonstrative man Walker did not seem made for a hero of enthusiastic adventure. His most striking feature was his keen gray eyes which brought him the title of the gray-eyed man of destiny. End of Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Of Historical Tales Volume 3 Spanish American This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 30 Maximilian of Austria and his Empire in Mexico It is interesting in view of the total conquest and submission of the Indians in Mexico that the final blow for freedom in that country should have been made by an Indian of pure native blood. His name was Benito Juarez and his struggle for liberty was against the French invaders and Maximilian the Puppet Emperor put by Louis Napoleon on the Mexican throne. In the words of Shakespeare, thereby hangs a tale. For many years after the Spanish colonies had won their independence the nations of Europe looked upon them with a covetous eye. They would dearly have liked to snap up some of these weak countries which Spain had been unable to hold. But the great republic of the United States stood as their protector and none of them felt it quite safe to step over that threatening bar to ambition, the Monroe Doctrine. Hands off said Uncle Sam and they obeyed, though much against their will. In 1861 began a war in the United States which gave the people of that country all they wanted to do. Here was the chance for Europe and Napoleon III, the usurper of France, took advantage of it to send an army to Mexico and attempt the conquest of that country. It was the overweening ambition of Louis Napoleon which led him on. It was his scheme to found an empire in Mexico which, while having the name of being independent, would be under the control of France and would shed glory on his reign. At that time the President of Mexico, the Indian we have named, was Benito Juarez, a descendant of the Aztec race and as some said, with the blood of the Montezuma's in his veins. Yet his family was of the lowest class of the Indians and when he was twelve years old he did not know how to read or write. After that he obtained a chance for education and in time became a lawyer, was made Governor of his native state and kept on climbing upward till he became Secretary of State, President of the Supreme Court and finally President of Mexico. He was the man who had the invaders of his country to fight and fought them well and long. But the poor and undisciplined Mexicans were no match for the trained troops of France and they were driven back step by step until the invaders were masters of nearly the whole country. Yet Juarez still had a capital and a government at San Luis Potosi and all loyal Mexicans still looked on him as their President. When Napoleon III found himself Master of Mexico he looked around for a man who would serve him as a tool to hold the country. Such a man he found in Ferdinand Joseph Maximilian, the brother of the Emperor of Austria, a dreamer rather than a man of action and a fervent believer in the divine right of kings. This was the kind of man that the French usurper was in want of and he offered him the position of Emperor of Mexico. Maximilian was taken by surprise, the proposition was a startling one, but in the end ambition overcame judgment and he accepted the lofty but perilous position on the condition that France should sustain him on the throne. The struggle of the Mexicans for freedom was for the time at an end and the French had almost everywhere prevailed when in 1864 the new Emperor and his young wife Carlotta arrived at Vera Cruz and made their way to the city of Mexico. This they entered with great show and ceremony and amid the cheers of many of the lookers on, though the mass of the people who had no love for emperors kept away or held their peace. The new Empire began with imperial display. All the higher society of Mexico were at the feet of the new monarchs. With French money to pay their way and a French army to protect them, there was nothing for Maximilian and Carlotta to do but enjoy the romance and splendour of their new dignity. On the summit of the hill of Chapultepic, two hundred feet above the valley stood the old palace which had been ruined by the American guns when Scott invaded Mexico. This was rebuilt by Maximilian on a grand scale. Hanging gardens were constructed and walled in by galleries with marble columns, costly furniture was brought from Europe and here the new Emperor and emperors held their court with a brilliant succession of fests, dinners, dances and receptions. All was brilliant and gaiety and as yet no shadow fell on their dream of proud and royal reign. But the shadow was coming. Maximilian had reached Mexico in June 1864. For a year longer the civil war in the Great Republic of the North continued. Then it came to an end and the government of the United States was free to take a hand in the arbitrary doings on the soil of her near-neighbor to the south. It was a sad blow to the ambitious schemes of Napoleon. It was like the rumble of an earthquake under the throne of Maximilian. When from Washington came a diplomatic demand which translated into plain English meant, you had better make haste to get your armies out of Mexico if they stay there you will have the United States to deal with. It hurt Louis Napoleon's pride. He shifted and prevaricated and delayed but the hand of the Great Republic was on the throat of his new empire and there was nothing for him to do but obey. He knew very well that if he resisted the armies of the civil war would make very short work of his forces in Mexico. Maximilian was strongly advised to give up his dream of an empire and leave the country with the French. He changed his mind a half a dozen times but finally decided to stay, fancying that he could hold his throne with the aid of the loyal Mexicans. Carlotta, full of ambition, went to Europe and appealed for help to Napoleon. She told him very plainly what she thought of his actions but it was all of no avail and she left the palace almost broken-hearted. Soon after Maximilian received the distressing news that his wife had lost her reason through grief and was quite insane. At once he made up his mind to return to Europe and set out for Veracruz. Before he got there he changed his mind again and concluded to remain. At the end of January 1867 the French army, which had held on till then, with one excuse after another, left the capital city which it had occupied for years and began its long march to the seashore at Veracruz. Much was left behind. Cannon were broken up as useless horses sold for a song and the evacuation was soon complete. The Belgian and Austrian troops which the new emperor had brought with him, going with the French. Maximilian did not want them. He preferred to trust himself to the loyal arms of his Mexican subjects, hoping thus to avoid jealousy. As for the United States it had no more to say. It was content to leave this shadow of an empire to its loyal Mexicans. It cannot be said that Maximilian had taken the right course to make himself beloved by the Mexicans. Full of his obsolete notion of the divine right of kings, a year after he had reached Mexico he issued a decree saying that all who clung to the republic or resisted his authority should be shot. And this was not waste paper like so many decrees, for a number of prisoners were shot under its cruel mandate, one of them being General Orteaga. It has been said that Maximilian went so far as to order that the whole laboring population of the country should be reduced to slavery. While all this was going on President Juarez was not idle. During the whole French occupation he had kept in arms and now began his advance from his place of refuge in the north. General Escobedo, chief of his armies, soon conquered the northern part of the country and occupied the various states and cities as soon as they were left by the French. But neither was Maximilian idle. Agents of the church party had finally induced him to remain and this party now came to his aid. General Miramon, an able leader, commanded his army, which was recruited to the strength of 8,000 men, most of them trained soldiers, though nearly half of them were raw recruits. With this force Maximilian advanced to Querétaro and made it his headquarters. Juarez had, meanwhile, advanced to Zacatecas and fixed his residence there with his government about him. But the President and cabinet came very near being taken captive at one fell swoop, for Miramon suddenly advanced and captured Zacatecas by surprise. Juarez and his government barely escaping. What would have been the result if the whole Mexican government had been taken prisoners is not easy to say. Not unlikely, however, General Escobedo would have done what he now did, which was to advance on Querétaro and invest it with his army. Thus the Empire of Maximilian was limited to this one town where it was besieged by an army of Mexican patriots, while, with the exception of a few cities, the whole country outside was free from imperial rule. Soon the Emperor and his army found themselves closely confined within the walls of Querétaro. Skirmishes took place almost daily, in which both sides fought with courage and resolution. Provisions grew scarce and foraging parties were sent out, but after each attack the lines of the besiegers became closer. The clergy had made liberal promises of forces and funds, and General Marquez was sent to the city of Mexico to obtain them. He managed to get through the lines of Escobedo, but he failed to return, and nothing was ever seen by Maximilian of the promised aid. Such forces and funds as Marquez obtained, he used in attacking General Díaz, who was advancing on Pueblo. Díaz besieged and took Pueblo, and then turned on Marquez, whom he defeated so completely that he made his way back to Mexico almost alone under cover of the night. It was the glory gained by this act that later raised Díaz to the presidency, which he held so brilliantly for so many years. The hopes of Maximilian were dwindling to a shadow. For two months the siege of Queretaro continued, steadily growing closer. During this trying time Maximilian showed the best elements of his character. He was gentle and cheerful and demeanor, and brave in action, not hesitating to expose himself to the fire of the enemy. Plans were made for his escape, that he might put himself at the head of his troops elsewhere, but he refused, through a sense of honour, to desert his brave companions. Daily provisions grew scarcer, and Maximilian himself had only the coarse, tough food which was served to the common soldiers. Day after day Marquez was looked for with the promised aid, but night after night brought only disappointment. At length on the night of May 14th General Lopez, in charge of the most important point in the city, turned traitor and admitted two battalions of the enemy. From this point the assailants swarmed into the city, where terror and confusion everywhere prevailed. Lopez had not intended that the Emperor should be captured, and gave him warning in time to escape. He attempted to do so, and reached a little hill outside the town, but here he was surrounded by foes and forced to deliver up his sword. Juarez, the Indian President, was at length full master of Mexico, and held its late Emperor in his hands. The fate of Maximilian depended upon his words. Plans, indeed, were made for his escape, but always at the last moment he failed to avail himself of them. His friends sought to win for him the clemency of Juarez, but they found him inflexible. The traitors, as he called them, should be tried by court-martial, he said, and abide the decision of the court. Tried they were, though the trial was little more than a farce, with the verdict fixed in advance. This verdict was death. The condemned, in addition to Maximilian, were his chiefs in command, Miramon and Medieu. The late Emperor rose early on the fatal morning and heard mass. He embraced his fellow victims, and as he reached the street, said, What a beautiful day! On such a one I have always wished to die. He was greeted with respect by the people in the street, the women weeping. He responded with a brief address, closing with the words, May my blood be the last spilt for the welfare of the country, and if more should be shed, may it flow for its good, and not by treason. Viva Independencia, Viva Mexico In a few minutes more, the fatal shots were fired, and the Empire of Maximilian was at an end.