Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.The Assault on Chapultepec.Captain Mayne Reid continues the account: “Thus was the American army halted in its victorious career on the 20th of August. Another hour, and it would have been in the streets of Mexico. The commander-in-chief, however, had other designs; and with the bugle recall that summoned the dragoons to retire, all hostile operations ended for the time. The troops slept upon the field.“On the following day the four divisions of the American army separated for their respective headquarters in different villages. Worth crossed over to Tacubaya, which became the headquarters of the army; Twiggs held the village of San Angel; Pillow rested at Miscuac, a small Indian village between San Angel and Tacubaya, while the Volunteer and Marine division fell back on San Augustine. An armistice had been entered into between the commanders-in-chief of the two armies.“This armistice was intended to facilitate a treaty of peace; for it was thought that the Mexicans would accept any terms rather than see their ancient city at the mercy of a foreign army. No doubt, however, a great mistake was made, as the armistice gave the crafty Santa Anna a chance to fortify an inner line of defence, the key to which was the strong Castle of Chapultepec, which had to be taken three weeks later with the loss of many brave men.“The commissioners of both governments met at a small village near Tacubaya, and the American commissioner demanded, as a necessary preliminary to peace, the cession of Upper and Lower California, all New Mexico, Texas, parts of Sonora, Coahuila and Tamaulipas. Although this was in general a wild, unsettled tract of country, yet it constituted more than one-half the territory of Mexico, and the Mexican commissioners would not, even if they dared, agree to such a dismemberment. The armistice was therefore abortive, and on the 6th of September, the American commander-in-chief sent a formal notice to the enemy that it had ceased to exist. This elicited from Santa Anna an insulting reply, and on the same day the enemy was seen in great force to the left of Tacubaya, at a building called Molino del Rey, which was a large stone mill, with a foundry, belonging to the government, and where most of their cannon had been made. It is a building notorious in the annals of Mexican history as the place where the unfortunate Texan prisoners suffered the most cruel treatment from their barbarous captors. It lies directly under the guns of Chapultepec, from which it is distant about a quarter of a mile, and it is separated from the hill of Chapultepec by a thick wood of almond trees.“On the afternoon of the 7th of September, Captain Mason, of the Engineers, was sent to reconnoitre the enemy’s position. His right lay at a strong stone building, with bastions, at some distance from Molino del Rey, while his left rested in the works around the latter.“The building on the right is called Casa Mata. It is to be presumed that this position of the enemy was taken to prevent our army from turning the Castle of Chapultepec and entering the city by the Tacubaya road and the gate San Cosme. All the othergaritas, Piedas, Nino Perdido, San Antonio and Belen were strongly fortified, and guarded by a large body of the enemy’s troops. Having in all at this time about 30,000 men, they had no difficulty in placing a strong guard at every point of attack.“On the 7th General Worth was ordered to attack and carry the enemy’s lines at Molino del Rey. His attack was to be planned on the night of the 7th and executed on the morning of the 8th.“On the night of the 7th the 1st Division, strengthened by a brigade of the 3rd, moved forward in front of the enemy. The dispositions made were as follows:“It was discovered that the weakest point of the enemy’s lines was at a place about midway between the Casa Mata and Molino del Rey. This point, however, was strengthened by a battery of several guns.“An assaulting party of 500 men, commanded by Major Wright, were detailed to attack the battery, after it had been cannonaded by Captain Huger with the battering guns. To the right of this assaulting party Garland’s brigade took position within supporting distance.“On our left, and to the enemy’s right, Clark’s brigade, commanded by Brevet-Colonel Mackintosh, with Duncan’s battery, were posted; while the supporting brigade from Pillow’s division lay between the assaulting column and Clark’s brigade.“At break of day the action commenced. Huger, with the 24th, opened on the enemy’s centre. Every discharge told; and the enemy seemed to retire. No answer was made from his guns. Worth, becoming at length convinced—fatal conviction—that the works in the centre had been abandoned, ordered the assaulting column to advance.“These moved rapidly down the slope, Major Wright leading. When they had arrived within about half musket shot the enemy opened upon this gallant band the most dreadful fire it has ever been the fate of a soldier to sustain. Six pieces from the field battery played upon their ranks; while the heavy guns from Chapultepec, and nearly six thousand muskets from the enemy’s entrenchments, mowed them down in hundreds. The first discharge covered the ground with dead and dying. One half the command at least fell with this terrible cataract of bullets. The others, retiring for a moment, took shelter behind some magney, or, in fact, anything that would lend a momentary protection.“The light battalion and the 11th Infantry now came to their relief, and springing forward amid the clouds of smoke and deadly fire, the enemy’s works were soon in our possession. At the same time the right and left wing had become hotly engaged with the left and right of the enemy. Garland’s brigade, with Duncan’s battery, after driving out a large body of infantry, occupied the mills, while the command of Colonel Mackintosh attacked the Casa Mata.“This building proved to be a strong work with deep ditches and entrenchments. The brigade moved rapidly forward to assault it, but on reaching the wide ditch the tremendous fire of muskets to which they were exposed, as well as the heavy guns from the Castle, obliged them to fall back on their own battery.“Duncan now opened his batteries upon this building, and with such effect that the enemy soon retreated from it, leaving it unoccupied.“At this time the remaining brigade of Pillow’s division, as well as that of Twiggs’, came on the ground, but they were too late. The enemy had already fallen back, and Molino del Rey and the Casa Mata were in possession of the American troops. The latter was shortly after blown up, and all the implements in the foundry, with the cannon moulds, having been destroyed, our army was ordered to return to Tacubaya.“Thus ended one of the most bloody and fruitless engagements ever fought by the American army. Six hundred and fifty of our brave troops were either killed or wounded, while the loss of the enemy did not amount to more than half this number.“The fatal action at Molino del Rey cast a gloom over the whole army. Nothing had been gained. The victorious troops fell back to their former positions, and the vanquished assumed a bolder front, celebrating the action as a victory. The Mexican commander gave out that the attack was intended for Chapultepec, and had consequently failed. This, among his soldiers, received credence and doubled their confidence; we, on the other hand, called it a victory on our side. Another such victory and the American army would never have left the Valley of Mexico.“On the night of the 11th of September, at midnight, two small parties of men were seen to go out from the village of Tacubaya, moving silently along different roads. One party directed itself along an old road toward Molino del Rey, and about half-way between the village and this latter point halted. The other moved a short distance along the direct road to Chapultepec and halted in like manner. They did not halt to sleep; all night long these men were busy piling up earth, filling sand-bags, and laying the platforms of a gun battery.“When day broke these batteries were finished, their guns in position, and, much to the astonishment of the Mexican troops, a merry fire was opened upon the Castle. This fire was soon answered, but with little effect. By ten o’clock another battery from Molino del Rey, with some well-directed shots from a howitzer at the same point, seemed to annoy the garrison exceedingly.“A belt of wood lies between the Castle and Molino del Rey on the south. A stone wall surrounds these woods. Well-garrisoned, Chapultepec would be impregnable. The belief is that 1,000 Americans could hold it against all Mexico. They might starve them out, or choke them with thirst, but they could not drive them out of it. There are but few fortresses in the world so strong in natural advantages.“During the whole of the 12th the shot from the American batteries kept playing upon the walls of the Castle, answered by the guns of the fortress, and an incessant fire of musketry was kept up by the skirmishing party in the woods of Molino del Rey. Towards evening the Castle began to assume a battered and beleaguered appearance. Shot and shell had made ruin on every point, and several of the enemy’s guns were dismounted.“To enumerate the feats of artillerists on this day would fill a volume. A twenty-pound shot from a battery commanded by Captain Huger and Lieutenant Hagney entered the muzzle of one of the enemy’s howitzers and burst the piece. It was not a chance shot. This battery was placed on the old road between Tacubaya and Molino del Rey. The gate of the Castle fronts this way, and the Calzada, or winding road from the Castle to the foot of the hill, was exposed to the fire. As the ground lying to the north and east of Chapultepec was still in possession of the enemy, a constant intercourse was kept up with the Castle by this Calzada.“On the morning of the 11th, however, when Huger’s and Hagney’s battery opened, the Calzada became a dangerous thoroughfare. The latter officer found that his shot thrown on the face of the road ricochetted upon the walls with terrible effect, and consequently most of his shots were aimed at this point. It was amusing to see the Mexican officers who wished to enter or go out of the Castle wait until Hagney’s guns were discharged, and then gallop over the Calzada as if the devil were after them.“A Mexican soldier at the principal gate was packing a mule with ordnance.“‘Can you hit that fellow, Hagney?’ was asked.“‘I’ll try,’ was the quiet and laconic reply. The long gun was pointed and levelled. At this moment the soldier stooped by the side of the mule in the act of tightening the girth. ‘Fire!’ said Hagney, and almost simultaneous with the shot a cloud of dust rose over the causeway. When this cleared away the mule was seen running wild along the Calzada, while the soldier lay dead by the wall.“On the day when Chapultepec was stormed, September 13th, 1847, I was in command of the Grenadier Company of 2nd New York Volunteers—my own—and a detachment of United States Marines, acting with us as light infantry, my orders being to stay by and guard the battery we had built on the south-eastern side of the Castle during the night of the 11th. It was about a thousand yards from, and directly in front of, the Castle’s main gate, through which our shots went crashing all the day. The first assault had been fixed for the morning of the 13th, a storming party of 500 men, or ‘forlorn hope,’ as it was called, having volunteered for this dangerous duty. These were of all arms of the service, a captain of regular infantry having charge of them, with a lieutenant of Pennsylvanian Volunteers as his second in command.“At an early hour the three divisions of our army, Worth’s, Pillow’s and Quitman’s, closed in upon Chapultepec, our skirmishers driving the enemy’s outposts before them; some of these retreating up the hill and into the Castle, others passing around it and on towards the city.“It was now expected that our storming party would do the work assigned to it, and for which it had volunteered. Standing by our battery, at this time necessarily silent, with the artillery and engineer officers who had charge of it, Captain Huger and Lieutenant Hagney, we three watched the advance of the attacking line, the puffs of smoke from musketry and rifles indicating the exact point to which it had reached. Anxiously we watched it. I need not say, nor add, that our anxiety became apprehension when we saw that about half-way up the slope there was a halt, something impeding its forward movement. I knew that if Chapultepec were not taken, neither would the city, and failing this, not a man of us might ever leave the Valley of Mexico alive.“Worth’s injudicious attempt upon the intrenchments of Molino del Rey—to call it by no harsher name—our first retreat during the campaign, had greatly demoralised our men, while reversely affecting the Mexicans, inspiring them with a courage they had never felt before. And there were 30,000 of these to our 6,000—five to one—to say nothing of a host ofrancherosin the country around andleperosin the city, all exasperated against us, the invaders. We had become aware, moreover, that Alvarez with his spotted Indians (pintos) had swung round in our rear, and held the mountain passes behind us, so that retreat upon Puebla would have been impossible. This was not my belief alone, but that of every intelligent officer in the army: the two who stood beside me feeling sure of it as myself. This certainty, combined with the slow progress of the attacking party, determined me to participate in the assault. As the senior engineer officer out-ranked me, it was necessary I should have his leave to forsake the battery—now needing no further defence—a leave freely and instantly given, with the words: ‘Go, and God be with you!’“The Mexican flag was still waving triumphantly over the Castle, and the line of smoke-puffs had not got an inch nearer it; nor was there much change in the situation when, after a quick run across the intervening ground with my following of volunteers and marines, we came up with the storming party at halt, and irregularly aligned along the base of the hill. For what reason they were staying there we knew not at the time, but I afterwards heard it was some trouble about scaling ladders. I did not pause then to inquire, but, breaking through their line with my brave followers, pushed on up the slope. Near the summit I found a scattered crowd of soldiers, some of them in the grey uniform of the Voltigeur Regiment; others, 9th, 14th and 15th Infantry. They were the skirmishers, who had thus far cleared the way for us, and far ahead of the ‘forlorn hope.’ But beyond lay the real area of danger, a slightly sloping ground, some forty yards in width, between us and the Castle’s outward wall—in short, the glacis. It was commanded by three pieces of cannon on the parapet, which, swept it with grape and canister as fast as they could be loaded and fired. There seemed no chance to advance farther without meeting certain death. But it would be death all the same if we did not—such was my thought at that moment.“Just as I reached this point there was a momentary halt, which made it possible to be heard; and the words I then spoke, or rather shouted, are remembered by me as though it were but yesterday:“‘Men! if we don’t take Chapultepec, the American army is lost. Let us charge up to the walls.’“A voice answered: ‘We’ll charge if any one leads us.’“Another adding: ‘Yes, we’re ready!’“At that instant the three guns on the parapet belched forth their deadly showers almost simultaneously. My heart bounded with joy at hearing them go off thus together—it was our opportunity; and, quickly comprehending it, I leaped over the scarp which had sheltered us, calling out:“‘Come on; I’ll lead you!’“It did not need looking back to know that I was followed. The men I had appealed to were not the men to stay behind, else they would not have been there, and all came after.“When about half-way across the open ground I saw the parapet crowded with Mexican artillerists in uniforms of dark blue with crimson facings, each musket in hand, and all aiming, as I believed, at my own person. On account of a crimson silk sash I was wearing, they no doubt fancied me a general at least. The volley was almost as one sound, and I avoided it by throwing myself flat along the earth, only getting touched on one of the fingers of my sword-hand, another shot passing through the loose cloth of my overalls. Instantly on my feet again, I made for the wall, which I was scaling, when a bullet from an escopette went tearing through my thigh, and I fell into the ditch.”Even as he lay wounded in the ditch, brave Mayne Reid painfully raised himself, addressing the men and encouraging them. Above the din of musketry his voice was heard.“‘For God’s sake, men, don’t leave that wall.’“Only a few scattered shots were fired after this. The scaling ladders came up, and some scores of men went swarming over the parapet and Chapultepec was taken.“The second man up to the walls of the Castle was Corporal Haup, the Swiss, when he fell, shot through the face, over the body of Mayne Reid, covering the latter with his blood. The poor fellow endeavoured to roll himself off, saying, ‘I’m not hurt so badly as you.’ But he was dead before Mayne Reid was carried off the field.“Mayne Reid’s lieutenant, Hypolite Dardonville, a brave young Frenchman, dragged the Mexican flag down from its staff, planting the Stars and Stripes in its place—the standard of the New York regiment.“The contest was not yet over. The advantage must be followed up, and the city entered. Worth’s division obliquing to the right followed the enemy on the Tabuca Road, and through the gate of San Cosme; while the volunteers, with the rifle and one or two other regiments, detached from the division of General Twiggs, were led along the aqueduct towards the citadel and the gate of Belen. Inch by inch did these gallant fellows drive back their opponents; and he who led them, the veteran Quitman, was ever foremost in the fight.“A very storm of bullets rained along this road, and hundreds of brave men fell to rise no more; but when night closed the gates of Belen and San Cosme were in possession of the Americans.“During the still hours of midnight the Mexican army, to the number of some 20,000, stole out of the city and took the road for Guadaloupe.“Next morning at daybreak, the remnant of the American army, in all less than 3,000 men, entered the city without further opposition, and formed up in the Grand Plaza. Ere sunrise the American star-spangled banner floated proudly over the Palace of Moctezuma, and proclaimed that the city of the Aztecs was in possession of the Americans.“Chapultepec was in reality the key to the city. If the former were not captured, the latter in all probability would not have been taken at that time, or by that army.“The city of Mexico stands on a perfectly level plain, where water is reached by digging but a few inches below the surface; this everywhere around its walls, and for miles on every side.“It does not seem to have occurred to military engineers that a position of this kind is the strongest in the world; the most difficult to assault and easiest to defend. It only needs to clear the surroundingterrainof houses, trees, or aught that might give shelter to the besiegers, and obstruct the fire of the besieged. As in the wet ground trenching is impossible, there is no other way of approach. Even a charge by cavalry going at full gallop must fail; they would be decimated, or utterly destroyed, long before arriving at the entrenched line.“These were the exact conditions under which Mexico had to be assaulted by the American army. There were no houses outside of the city walls, no cover of any kind, save rows of tall poplar trees lining the sides of the outgoing roads, and most of these had been cut down. How then was the place to be stormed, or rather approached within storming distance? The eyes of some skilled American engineers rested upon the two aqueducts running from Chapultepec into the suburbs of the city. Their mason work, with its massive piers and open arches between, promised the necessary cover for skirmishers, to be supported by close following battalions.“And they did afford this very shelter, enabling the American army to capture the city of Mexico. But to get at the aqueducts Chapultepec need to be first taken, otherwise the besiegers would have had the enemy both in front and rear. Hence the desperate and determined struggle at the taking of the Castle, and the importance of its succeeding. Had it failed, I have no hesitation in giving my opinion that no American who fought that day in the Valley of Mexico would ever have left it alive. Scott’s army was already weakened by the previous engagements, too much so to hold itself three days on the defensive. Retreat would have been not disastrous, but absolutely impossible. The position was far worse than that of Lord Sale, in the celebrated Cabool expedition. All the passes leading out of the valley by which the Americans might have attempted escape were closed by columns of cavalry. The Indian general, Alvarez, with his host of spotted horsemen, the Pintos of the Acapulco region, had occupied the main road by Rio Frio the moment after the Americans marched in. No wonder these fought on that day as for very life. Every intelligent soldier among them knew that in their attack upon Chapultepec there were but two alternatives: success and life, or defeat and death.”The following are extracts from dispatches and official documents:From Major-General Winfield Scott, commander-in-chief.“September 18, 1847.“The following are the officers and corps most distinguished in these brilliant operations... Particularly a detachment under Lieutenant Reid, New York Volunteers, consisting of a company of the same, with one of marines.”From Major-General G.J. Pillow, commanding division.“September 18, 1847.“Lieutenant Reid, in command of the one company of the New York Regiment and one of marines, came forward in advance of the other troops of this command, Quitman’s, participated in the assault and was severely wounded.”From Major-General J.A. Quitman, commanding division.“September 29, 1847.“Two detachments from my command not heretofore mentioned in this report should be noticed. Captain Gallagher and Lieutenant Reid, who, with their companies of New York Volunteers, had been detailed on the morning of the 12th, by General Shields, to the support of our battery, Number 2, well performed the service. The former, by the orders of Captain Huger, was detained at that battery during the storming of Chapultepec. The latter, a brave and energetic young officer, being relieved from the battery on the advance to the Castle, hastened to the assault, and was among the first to ascend the crest of the hill, where he was severely wounded... The gallant New York Regiment claims for their standard the honour of being the first waved from the battlements of Chapultepec.”From Brigadier-General Shields.“September 25, 1847.“The New York flag and Company B of that regiment, under the command of a gallant young officer, Lieutenant Reid, were among the first to mount the ramparts of the Castle, and then display the Stars and Stripes to the admiration of the army.”From Captain Huger, chief of ordnance.“September 20, 1847.“As there were two companies in support of batteries 2 and 3, I now allowed one of them, commanded by Lieutenant Reid, New York Volunteers, his command, composed of volunteers and marines, to join its proper division, and he gallantly pushed up the hill and joined it during the storming of the Castle.”From Colonel Ward B. Burnett, commanding New York Regiment.“Order Number 35.“The following promotions and appointments having been made ‘upon good and sufficient recommendations’ will be obeyed and respected accordingly:“2nd Lieutenant Mayne Reid, of Company B, to be 1st lieutenant of Company G,viceInnes, promoted.”

Captain Mayne Reid continues the account: “Thus was the American army halted in its victorious career on the 20th of August. Another hour, and it would have been in the streets of Mexico. The commander-in-chief, however, had other designs; and with the bugle recall that summoned the dragoons to retire, all hostile operations ended for the time. The troops slept upon the field.

“On the following day the four divisions of the American army separated for their respective headquarters in different villages. Worth crossed over to Tacubaya, which became the headquarters of the army; Twiggs held the village of San Angel; Pillow rested at Miscuac, a small Indian village between San Angel and Tacubaya, while the Volunteer and Marine division fell back on San Augustine. An armistice had been entered into between the commanders-in-chief of the two armies.

“This armistice was intended to facilitate a treaty of peace; for it was thought that the Mexicans would accept any terms rather than see their ancient city at the mercy of a foreign army. No doubt, however, a great mistake was made, as the armistice gave the crafty Santa Anna a chance to fortify an inner line of defence, the key to which was the strong Castle of Chapultepec, which had to be taken three weeks later with the loss of many brave men.

“The commissioners of both governments met at a small village near Tacubaya, and the American commissioner demanded, as a necessary preliminary to peace, the cession of Upper and Lower California, all New Mexico, Texas, parts of Sonora, Coahuila and Tamaulipas. Although this was in general a wild, unsettled tract of country, yet it constituted more than one-half the territory of Mexico, and the Mexican commissioners would not, even if they dared, agree to such a dismemberment. The armistice was therefore abortive, and on the 6th of September, the American commander-in-chief sent a formal notice to the enemy that it had ceased to exist. This elicited from Santa Anna an insulting reply, and on the same day the enemy was seen in great force to the left of Tacubaya, at a building called Molino del Rey, which was a large stone mill, with a foundry, belonging to the government, and where most of their cannon had been made. It is a building notorious in the annals of Mexican history as the place where the unfortunate Texan prisoners suffered the most cruel treatment from their barbarous captors. It lies directly under the guns of Chapultepec, from which it is distant about a quarter of a mile, and it is separated from the hill of Chapultepec by a thick wood of almond trees.

“On the afternoon of the 7th of September, Captain Mason, of the Engineers, was sent to reconnoitre the enemy’s position. His right lay at a strong stone building, with bastions, at some distance from Molino del Rey, while his left rested in the works around the latter.

“The building on the right is called Casa Mata. It is to be presumed that this position of the enemy was taken to prevent our army from turning the Castle of Chapultepec and entering the city by the Tacubaya road and the gate San Cosme. All the othergaritas, Piedas, Nino Perdido, San Antonio and Belen were strongly fortified, and guarded by a large body of the enemy’s troops. Having in all at this time about 30,000 men, they had no difficulty in placing a strong guard at every point of attack.

“On the 7th General Worth was ordered to attack and carry the enemy’s lines at Molino del Rey. His attack was to be planned on the night of the 7th and executed on the morning of the 8th.

“On the night of the 7th the 1st Division, strengthened by a brigade of the 3rd, moved forward in front of the enemy. The dispositions made were as follows:

“It was discovered that the weakest point of the enemy’s lines was at a place about midway between the Casa Mata and Molino del Rey. This point, however, was strengthened by a battery of several guns.

“An assaulting party of 500 men, commanded by Major Wright, were detailed to attack the battery, after it had been cannonaded by Captain Huger with the battering guns. To the right of this assaulting party Garland’s brigade took position within supporting distance.

“On our left, and to the enemy’s right, Clark’s brigade, commanded by Brevet-Colonel Mackintosh, with Duncan’s battery, were posted; while the supporting brigade from Pillow’s division lay between the assaulting column and Clark’s brigade.

“At break of day the action commenced. Huger, with the 24th, opened on the enemy’s centre. Every discharge told; and the enemy seemed to retire. No answer was made from his guns. Worth, becoming at length convinced—fatal conviction—that the works in the centre had been abandoned, ordered the assaulting column to advance.

“These moved rapidly down the slope, Major Wright leading. When they had arrived within about half musket shot the enemy opened upon this gallant band the most dreadful fire it has ever been the fate of a soldier to sustain. Six pieces from the field battery played upon their ranks; while the heavy guns from Chapultepec, and nearly six thousand muskets from the enemy’s entrenchments, mowed them down in hundreds. The first discharge covered the ground with dead and dying. One half the command at least fell with this terrible cataract of bullets. The others, retiring for a moment, took shelter behind some magney, or, in fact, anything that would lend a momentary protection.

“The light battalion and the 11th Infantry now came to their relief, and springing forward amid the clouds of smoke and deadly fire, the enemy’s works were soon in our possession. At the same time the right and left wing had become hotly engaged with the left and right of the enemy. Garland’s brigade, with Duncan’s battery, after driving out a large body of infantry, occupied the mills, while the command of Colonel Mackintosh attacked the Casa Mata.

“This building proved to be a strong work with deep ditches and entrenchments. The brigade moved rapidly forward to assault it, but on reaching the wide ditch the tremendous fire of muskets to which they were exposed, as well as the heavy guns from the Castle, obliged them to fall back on their own battery.

“Duncan now opened his batteries upon this building, and with such effect that the enemy soon retreated from it, leaving it unoccupied.

“At this time the remaining brigade of Pillow’s division, as well as that of Twiggs’, came on the ground, but they were too late. The enemy had already fallen back, and Molino del Rey and the Casa Mata were in possession of the American troops. The latter was shortly after blown up, and all the implements in the foundry, with the cannon moulds, having been destroyed, our army was ordered to return to Tacubaya.

“Thus ended one of the most bloody and fruitless engagements ever fought by the American army. Six hundred and fifty of our brave troops were either killed or wounded, while the loss of the enemy did not amount to more than half this number.

“The fatal action at Molino del Rey cast a gloom over the whole army. Nothing had been gained. The victorious troops fell back to their former positions, and the vanquished assumed a bolder front, celebrating the action as a victory. The Mexican commander gave out that the attack was intended for Chapultepec, and had consequently failed. This, among his soldiers, received credence and doubled their confidence; we, on the other hand, called it a victory on our side. Another such victory and the American army would never have left the Valley of Mexico.

“On the night of the 11th of September, at midnight, two small parties of men were seen to go out from the village of Tacubaya, moving silently along different roads. One party directed itself along an old road toward Molino del Rey, and about half-way between the village and this latter point halted. The other moved a short distance along the direct road to Chapultepec and halted in like manner. They did not halt to sleep; all night long these men were busy piling up earth, filling sand-bags, and laying the platforms of a gun battery.

“When day broke these batteries were finished, their guns in position, and, much to the astonishment of the Mexican troops, a merry fire was opened upon the Castle. This fire was soon answered, but with little effect. By ten o’clock another battery from Molino del Rey, with some well-directed shots from a howitzer at the same point, seemed to annoy the garrison exceedingly.

“A belt of wood lies between the Castle and Molino del Rey on the south. A stone wall surrounds these woods. Well-garrisoned, Chapultepec would be impregnable. The belief is that 1,000 Americans could hold it against all Mexico. They might starve them out, or choke them with thirst, but they could not drive them out of it. There are but few fortresses in the world so strong in natural advantages.

“During the whole of the 12th the shot from the American batteries kept playing upon the walls of the Castle, answered by the guns of the fortress, and an incessant fire of musketry was kept up by the skirmishing party in the woods of Molino del Rey. Towards evening the Castle began to assume a battered and beleaguered appearance. Shot and shell had made ruin on every point, and several of the enemy’s guns were dismounted.

“To enumerate the feats of artillerists on this day would fill a volume. A twenty-pound shot from a battery commanded by Captain Huger and Lieutenant Hagney entered the muzzle of one of the enemy’s howitzers and burst the piece. It was not a chance shot. This battery was placed on the old road between Tacubaya and Molino del Rey. The gate of the Castle fronts this way, and the Calzada, or winding road from the Castle to the foot of the hill, was exposed to the fire. As the ground lying to the north and east of Chapultepec was still in possession of the enemy, a constant intercourse was kept up with the Castle by this Calzada.

“On the morning of the 11th, however, when Huger’s and Hagney’s battery opened, the Calzada became a dangerous thoroughfare. The latter officer found that his shot thrown on the face of the road ricochetted upon the walls with terrible effect, and consequently most of his shots were aimed at this point. It was amusing to see the Mexican officers who wished to enter or go out of the Castle wait until Hagney’s guns were discharged, and then gallop over the Calzada as if the devil were after them.

“A Mexican soldier at the principal gate was packing a mule with ordnance.

“‘Can you hit that fellow, Hagney?’ was asked.

“‘I’ll try,’ was the quiet and laconic reply. The long gun was pointed and levelled. At this moment the soldier stooped by the side of the mule in the act of tightening the girth. ‘Fire!’ said Hagney, and almost simultaneous with the shot a cloud of dust rose over the causeway. When this cleared away the mule was seen running wild along the Calzada, while the soldier lay dead by the wall.

“On the day when Chapultepec was stormed, September 13th, 1847, I was in command of the Grenadier Company of 2nd New York Volunteers—my own—and a detachment of United States Marines, acting with us as light infantry, my orders being to stay by and guard the battery we had built on the south-eastern side of the Castle during the night of the 11th. It was about a thousand yards from, and directly in front of, the Castle’s main gate, through which our shots went crashing all the day. The first assault had been fixed for the morning of the 13th, a storming party of 500 men, or ‘forlorn hope,’ as it was called, having volunteered for this dangerous duty. These were of all arms of the service, a captain of regular infantry having charge of them, with a lieutenant of Pennsylvanian Volunteers as his second in command.

“At an early hour the three divisions of our army, Worth’s, Pillow’s and Quitman’s, closed in upon Chapultepec, our skirmishers driving the enemy’s outposts before them; some of these retreating up the hill and into the Castle, others passing around it and on towards the city.

“It was now expected that our storming party would do the work assigned to it, and for which it had volunteered. Standing by our battery, at this time necessarily silent, with the artillery and engineer officers who had charge of it, Captain Huger and Lieutenant Hagney, we three watched the advance of the attacking line, the puffs of smoke from musketry and rifles indicating the exact point to which it had reached. Anxiously we watched it. I need not say, nor add, that our anxiety became apprehension when we saw that about half-way up the slope there was a halt, something impeding its forward movement. I knew that if Chapultepec were not taken, neither would the city, and failing this, not a man of us might ever leave the Valley of Mexico alive.

“Worth’s injudicious attempt upon the intrenchments of Molino del Rey—to call it by no harsher name—our first retreat during the campaign, had greatly demoralised our men, while reversely affecting the Mexicans, inspiring them with a courage they had never felt before. And there were 30,000 of these to our 6,000—five to one—to say nothing of a host ofrancherosin the country around andleperosin the city, all exasperated against us, the invaders. We had become aware, moreover, that Alvarez with his spotted Indians (pintos) had swung round in our rear, and held the mountain passes behind us, so that retreat upon Puebla would have been impossible. This was not my belief alone, but that of every intelligent officer in the army: the two who stood beside me feeling sure of it as myself. This certainty, combined with the slow progress of the attacking party, determined me to participate in the assault. As the senior engineer officer out-ranked me, it was necessary I should have his leave to forsake the battery—now needing no further defence—a leave freely and instantly given, with the words: ‘Go, and God be with you!’

“The Mexican flag was still waving triumphantly over the Castle, and the line of smoke-puffs had not got an inch nearer it; nor was there much change in the situation when, after a quick run across the intervening ground with my following of volunteers and marines, we came up with the storming party at halt, and irregularly aligned along the base of the hill. For what reason they were staying there we knew not at the time, but I afterwards heard it was some trouble about scaling ladders. I did not pause then to inquire, but, breaking through their line with my brave followers, pushed on up the slope. Near the summit I found a scattered crowd of soldiers, some of them in the grey uniform of the Voltigeur Regiment; others, 9th, 14th and 15th Infantry. They were the skirmishers, who had thus far cleared the way for us, and far ahead of the ‘forlorn hope.’ But beyond lay the real area of danger, a slightly sloping ground, some forty yards in width, between us and the Castle’s outward wall—in short, the glacis. It was commanded by three pieces of cannon on the parapet, which, swept it with grape and canister as fast as they could be loaded and fired. There seemed no chance to advance farther without meeting certain death. But it would be death all the same if we did not—such was my thought at that moment.

“Just as I reached this point there was a momentary halt, which made it possible to be heard; and the words I then spoke, or rather shouted, are remembered by me as though it were but yesterday:

“‘Men! if we don’t take Chapultepec, the American army is lost. Let us charge up to the walls.’

“A voice answered: ‘We’ll charge if any one leads us.’

“Another adding: ‘Yes, we’re ready!’

“At that instant the three guns on the parapet belched forth their deadly showers almost simultaneously. My heart bounded with joy at hearing them go off thus together—it was our opportunity; and, quickly comprehending it, I leaped over the scarp which had sheltered us, calling out:

“‘Come on; I’ll lead you!’

“It did not need looking back to know that I was followed. The men I had appealed to were not the men to stay behind, else they would not have been there, and all came after.

“When about half-way across the open ground I saw the parapet crowded with Mexican artillerists in uniforms of dark blue with crimson facings, each musket in hand, and all aiming, as I believed, at my own person. On account of a crimson silk sash I was wearing, they no doubt fancied me a general at least. The volley was almost as one sound, and I avoided it by throwing myself flat along the earth, only getting touched on one of the fingers of my sword-hand, another shot passing through the loose cloth of my overalls. Instantly on my feet again, I made for the wall, which I was scaling, when a bullet from an escopette went tearing through my thigh, and I fell into the ditch.”

Even as he lay wounded in the ditch, brave Mayne Reid painfully raised himself, addressing the men and encouraging them. Above the din of musketry his voice was heard.

“‘For God’s sake, men, don’t leave that wall.’

“Only a few scattered shots were fired after this. The scaling ladders came up, and some scores of men went swarming over the parapet and Chapultepec was taken.

“The second man up to the walls of the Castle was Corporal Haup, the Swiss, when he fell, shot through the face, over the body of Mayne Reid, covering the latter with his blood. The poor fellow endeavoured to roll himself off, saying, ‘I’m not hurt so badly as you.’ But he was dead before Mayne Reid was carried off the field.

“Mayne Reid’s lieutenant, Hypolite Dardonville, a brave young Frenchman, dragged the Mexican flag down from its staff, planting the Stars and Stripes in its place—the standard of the New York regiment.

“The contest was not yet over. The advantage must be followed up, and the city entered. Worth’s division obliquing to the right followed the enemy on the Tabuca Road, and through the gate of San Cosme; while the volunteers, with the rifle and one or two other regiments, detached from the division of General Twiggs, were led along the aqueduct towards the citadel and the gate of Belen. Inch by inch did these gallant fellows drive back their opponents; and he who led them, the veteran Quitman, was ever foremost in the fight.

“A very storm of bullets rained along this road, and hundreds of brave men fell to rise no more; but when night closed the gates of Belen and San Cosme were in possession of the Americans.

“During the still hours of midnight the Mexican army, to the number of some 20,000, stole out of the city and took the road for Guadaloupe.

“Next morning at daybreak, the remnant of the American army, in all less than 3,000 men, entered the city without further opposition, and formed up in the Grand Plaza. Ere sunrise the American star-spangled banner floated proudly over the Palace of Moctezuma, and proclaimed that the city of the Aztecs was in possession of the Americans.

“Chapultepec was in reality the key to the city. If the former were not captured, the latter in all probability would not have been taken at that time, or by that army.

“The city of Mexico stands on a perfectly level plain, where water is reached by digging but a few inches below the surface; this everywhere around its walls, and for miles on every side.

“It does not seem to have occurred to military engineers that a position of this kind is the strongest in the world; the most difficult to assault and easiest to defend. It only needs to clear the surroundingterrainof houses, trees, or aught that might give shelter to the besiegers, and obstruct the fire of the besieged. As in the wet ground trenching is impossible, there is no other way of approach. Even a charge by cavalry going at full gallop must fail; they would be decimated, or utterly destroyed, long before arriving at the entrenched line.

“These were the exact conditions under which Mexico had to be assaulted by the American army. There were no houses outside of the city walls, no cover of any kind, save rows of tall poplar trees lining the sides of the outgoing roads, and most of these had been cut down. How then was the place to be stormed, or rather approached within storming distance? The eyes of some skilled American engineers rested upon the two aqueducts running from Chapultepec into the suburbs of the city. Their mason work, with its massive piers and open arches between, promised the necessary cover for skirmishers, to be supported by close following battalions.

“And they did afford this very shelter, enabling the American army to capture the city of Mexico. But to get at the aqueducts Chapultepec need to be first taken, otherwise the besiegers would have had the enemy both in front and rear. Hence the desperate and determined struggle at the taking of the Castle, and the importance of its succeeding. Had it failed, I have no hesitation in giving my opinion that no American who fought that day in the Valley of Mexico would ever have left it alive. Scott’s army was already weakened by the previous engagements, too much so to hold itself three days on the defensive. Retreat would have been not disastrous, but absolutely impossible. The position was far worse than that of Lord Sale, in the celebrated Cabool expedition. All the passes leading out of the valley by which the Americans might have attempted escape were closed by columns of cavalry. The Indian general, Alvarez, with his host of spotted horsemen, the Pintos of the Acapulco region, had occupied the main road by Rio Frio the moment after the Americans marched in. No wonder these fought on that day as for very life. Every intelligent soldier among them knew that in their attack upon Chapultepec there were but two alternatives: success and life, or defeat and death.”

The following are extracts from dispatches and official documents:

From Major-General Winfield Scott, commander-in-chief.

“September 18, 1847.

“The following are the officers and corps most distinguished in these brilliant operations... Particularly a detachment under Lieutenant Reid, New York Volunteers, consisting of a company of the same, with one of marines.”

From Major-General G.J. Pillow, commanding division.

“September 18, 1847.

“Lieutenant Reid, in command of the one company of the New York Regiment and one of marines, came forward in advance of the other troops of this command, Quitman’s, participated in the assault and was severely wounded.”

From Major-General J.A. Quitman, commanding division.

“September 29, 1847.

“Two detachments from my command not heretofore mentioned in this report should be noticed. Captain Gallagher and Lieutenant Reid, who, with their companies of New York Volunteers, had been detailed on the morning of the 12th, by General Shields, to the support of our battery, Number 2, well performed the service. The former, by the orders of Captain Huger, was detained at that battery during the storming of Chapultepec. The latter, a brave and energetic young officer, being relieved from the battery on the advance to the Castle, hastened to the assault, and was among the first to ascend the crest of the hill, where he was severely wounded... The gallant New York Regiment claims for their standard the honour of being the first waved from the battlements of Chapultepec.”

From Brigadier-General Shields.

“September 25, 1847.

“The New York flag and Company B of that regiment, under the command of a gallant young officer, Lieutenant Reid, were among the first to mount the ramparts of the Castle, and then display the Stars and Stripes to the admiration of the army.”

From Captain Huger, chief of ordnance.

“September 20, 1847.

“As there were two companies in support of batteries 2 and 3, I now allowed one of them, commanded by Lieutenant Reid, New York Volunteers, his command, composed of volunteers and marines, to join its proper division, and he gallantly pushed up the hill and joined it during the storming of the Castle.”

From Colonel Ward B. Burnett, commanding New York Regiment.

“Order Number 35.

“The following promotions and appointments having been made ‘upon good and sufficient recommendations’ will be obeyed and respected accordingly:

“2nd Lieutenant Mayne Reid, of Company B, to be 1st lieutenant of Company G,viceInnes, promoted.”

Chapter Five.He is Mourned as Dead.It was reported that Lieutenant Mayne Reid had died of his wounds. This intelligence reached his family in Ireland, who mourned him as dead until the joyful contradiction arrived. It may be interesting as evidence of his reputation at this time to give an extract from a contemporary notice in theNewport News.“The lamented Lieutenant Reid.“Lieutenant Reid has been in this country some five or six years, and during that time has been mostly connected with the press, either as an associate editor or correspondent; in this last capacity, he passed the summer of 1846 in Newport, R.I., engaged in writing letters to theNew York Herald, under the signature of ‘Ecolier.’ It was at this time that we became acquainted with him, and there are many others in the community who will join us in bearing testimony to his worth as a man, all of whom will be grieved at the announcement of his death. He returned to New York about the first of September, and shortly after sailed for Mexico with his regiment. He was at the battle of Monterey, and distinguished himself in that bloody affair. We published a little poem from his pen, entitled ‘Monterey,’ about three months ago, which will undoubtedly be remembered by our readers; towards the close of the poem, was this stanza:“‘We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?’“Alas! for human glory! The departed, probably, little thought at the time he penned the above lines that he should so soon be sharing ‘their warrior rest.’ At the storming of Chapultepec he was severely wounded, and died soon after from his wounds. He was a man of singular talents, and gave much promise as a writer. His temperament was exceedingly nervous, and his fancy brilliant. His best productions may be found in ‘Godey’s Book,’ about three or four years ago, under the signature of ‘Poor Scholar.’ It is mournful that talents like his should be so early sacrificed, and that his career should be so soon closed, far—very far—from the land of his birth and the bosom of his home, as well as the land of his adoption. But thus it is! When the day arrives for our army to return, if it ever does, it will present a sad spectacle. The ranks will be thinned, and hearts made sorrowful at their coming that hoped to rejoice in the fullest fruition of gladness. Many a gallant spirit has fallen to rise no more; and the wild note of the bugle cannot awake them to duty, or the sweeter call of friendship and home. The triumphs may be as splendid as ever crowned a human effort, but they have been purchased at the price of noble lives, and too dearly not to mingle the tear of sorrow with the shout of joy.”The verses by Captain Mayne Reid referred to are:Monterey.We were not many - we who stoodBefore the iron sleet that day—Yet many a gallant spirit wouldGive half his years if he but couldHave been with us at Monterey.Now here, now there, the shot it hailedIn deadly drifts of fiery spray,Yet not a single soldier quailed,When wounded comrades round them wailedTheir dying shouts at Monterey.And on - still on our columns kept,Through walls of flame, its withering way;Where fell the dead, the living stept,Still charging on the guns which sweptThe slippery streets of Monterey.The foe himself recoiled aghast,When, striking where he strongest lay,We swooped his flanking batteries past,And braving full their murderous blast,Stormed home the towers of Monterey.Our banners on those turrets wave,And there our evening bugles play;Where orange boughs above their graveKeep green the memory of the braveWho fought and fell at Monterey.We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?At a public dinner held in the city of Columbus, Ohio, to celebrate the capture of Mexico, Mayne Reid’s memory was toasted, and the following lines, by a young poetess of Ohio, were recited with great effect:Dirge.Gone - gone - gone,Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.*****Mourn - mourn - mourn,Mother, to sorrow long wed!Far o’er the mighty deep,Where the brave coldly sleep,Thy warrior son lies dead.Lone - lone - lone,In thine own far island home,Ere thy life’s task is done,Oft with the setting sun,O’er the sea thy thoughts will roam.*****Sound - sound - sound,The trumpet, while thousands die!Madly forcing his way,Through the blood-dashing sprayHe beareth our banner on high!Woe - woe - woe!Like a thought he hath sunk to rest.Slow they bear him away,In stern martial array,The flag and the sword on his breast.High - high - high,High in the temple of fame,The poet’s fadeless wreath,And the soldier’s sheath,Are engraven above his name.Long - long - long,As time to the earth shall belong,The sad wind o’er, the surgeShall chant its low dirgeTo this peerless child of song.Gone - gone - gone!Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.The muse of the poetess perhaps required chastening, but the verses are not without power and at least show the love and admiration felt for the hero.

It was reported that Lieutenant Mayne Reid had died of his wounds. This intelligence reached his family in Ireland, who mourned him as dead until the joyful contradiction arrived. It may be interesting as evidence of his reputation at this time to give an extract from a contemporary notice in theNewport News.

“The lamented Lieutenant Reid.

“Lieutenant Reid has been in this country some five or six years, and during that time has been mostly connected with the press, either as an associate editor or correspondent; in this last capacity, he passed the summer of 1846 in Newport, R.I., engaged in writing letters to theNew York Herald, under the signature of ‘Ecolier.’ It was at this time that we became acquainted with him, and there are many others in the community who will join us in bearing testimony to his worth as a man, all of whom will be grieved at the announcement of his death. He returned to New York about the first of September, and shortly after sailed for Mexico with his regiment. He was at the battle of Monterey, and distinguished himself in that bloody affair. We published a little poem from his pen, entitled ‘Monterey,’ about three months ago, which will undoubtedly be remembered by our readers; towards the close of the poem, was this stanza:

“‘We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?’

“‘We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?’

“Alas! for human glory! The departed, probably, little thought at the time he penned the above lines that he should so soon be sharing ‘their warrior rest.’ At the storming of Chapultepec he was severely wounded, and died soon after from his wounds. He was a man of singular talents, and gave much promise as a writer. His temperament was exceedingly nervous, and his fancy brilliant. His best productions may be found in ‘Godey’s Book,’ about three or four years ago, under the signature of ‘Poor Scholar.’ It is mournful that talents like his should be so early sacrificed, and that his career should be so soon closed, far—very far—from the land of his birth and the bosom of his home, as well as the land of his adoption. But thus it is! When the day arrives for our army to return, if it ever does, it will present a sad spectacle. The ranks will be thinned, and hearts made sorrowful at their coming that hoped to rejoice in the fullest fruition of gladness. Many a gallant spirit has fallen to rise no more; and the wild note of the bugle cannot awake them to duty, or the sweeter call of friendship and home. The triumphs may be as splendid as ever crowned a human effort, but they have been purchased at the price of noble lives, and too dearly not to mingle the tear of sorrow with the shout of joy.”

The verses by Captain Mayne Reid referred to are:

Monterey.We were not many - we who stoodBefore the iron sleet that day—Yet many a gallant spirit wouldGive half his years if he but couldHave been with us at Monterey.Now here, now there, the shot it hailedIn deadly drifts of fiery spray,Yet not a single soldier quailed,When wounded comrades round them wailedTheir dying shouts at Monterey.And on - still on our columns kept,Through walls of flame, its withering way;Where fell the dead, the living stept,Still charging on the guns which sweptThe slippery streets of Monterey.The foe himself recoiled aghast,When, striking where he strongest lay,We swooped his flanking batteries past,And braving full their murderous blast,Stormed home the towers of Monterey.Our banners on those turrets wave,And there our evening bugles play;Where orange boughs above their graveKeep green the memory of the braveWho fought and fell at Monterey.We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?

Monterey.We were not many - we who stoodBefore the iron sleet that day—Yet many a gallant spirit wouldGive half his years if he but couldHave been with us at Monterey.Now here, now there, the shot it hailedIn deadly drifts of fiery spray,Yet not a single soldier quailed,When wounded comrades round them wailedTheir dying shouts at Monterey.And on - still on our columns kept,Through walls of flame, its withering way;Where fell the dead, the living stept,Still charging on the guns which sweptThe slippery streets of Monterey.The foe himself recoiled aghast,When, striking where he strongest lay,We swooped his flanking batteries past,And braving full their murderous blast,Stormed home the towers of Monterey.Our banners on those turrets wave,And there our evening bugles play;Where orange boughs above their graveKeep green the memory of the braveWho fought and fell at Monterey.We were not many - we who pressedBeside the brave who fell that day;But who of us has not confessedHe’d rather share their warrior rest,Than not have been at Monterey?

At a public dinner held in the city of Columbus, Ohio, to celebrate the capture of Mexico, Mayne Reid’s memory was toasted, and the following lines, by a young poetess of Ohio, were recited with great effect:

Dirge.Gone - gone - gone,Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.*****Mourn - mourn - mourn,Mother, to sorrow long wed!Far o’er the mighty deep,Where the brave coldly sleep,Thy warrior son lies dead.Lone - lone - lone,In thine own far island home,Ere thy life’s task is done,Oft with the setting sun,O’er the sea thy thoughts will roam.*****Sound - sound - sound,The trumpet, while thousands die!Madly forcing his way,Through the blood-dashing sprayHe beareth our banner on high!Woe - woe - woe!Like a thought he hath sunk to rest.Slow they bear him away,In stern martial array,The flag and the sword on his breast.High - high - high,High in the temple of fame,The poet’s fadeless wreath,And the soldier’s sheath,Are engraven above his name.Long - long - long,As time to the earth shall belong,The sad wind o’er, the surgeShall chant its low dirgeTo this peerless child of song.Gone - gone - gone!Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.

Dirge.Gone - gone - gone,Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.*****Mourn - mourn - mourn,Mother, to sorrow long wed!Far o’er the mighty deep,Where the brave coldly sleep,Thy warrior son lies dead.Lone - lone - lone,In thine own far island home,Ere thy life’s task is done,Oft with the setting sun,O’er the sea thy thoughts will roam.*****Sound - sound - sound,The trumpet, while thousands die!Madly forcing his way,Through the blood-dashing sprayHe beareth our banner on high!Woe - woe - woe!Like a thought he hath sunk to rest.Slow they bear him away,In stern martial array,The flag and the sword on his breast.High - high - high,High in the temple of fame,The poet’s fadeless wreath,And the soldier’s sheath,Are engraven above his name.Long - long - long,As time to the earth shall belong,The sad wind o’er, the surgeShall chant its low dirgeTo this peerless child of song.Gone - gone - gone!Gone to his dreamless sleep;And spirits of the brave,Watching o’er his lone grave,Weep - weep - weep.

The muse of the poetess perhaps required chastening, but the verses are not without power and at least show the love and admiration felt for the hero.

Chapter Six.Mayne Reid Remains in Mexico. Contemporary Notices in the United States.Mayne Reid was laid up in the city of Mexico for some time. It was at first supposed that amputation of the leg would be necessary; but on the doctors consulting, they came to the conclusion that this would be certain death, as the bullet had only just escaped severing the femoral artery. At last, under skilful care, he made a good recovery, and by the following December we find him on the eve of fighting a duel, but the challenged one “backed out,” his friend sending the following letter:“City of Mexico,“December 19th, 1847.“Sir,“Captain McKinstry has received your note of yesterday, and has requested me, as his friend, to inform you that he has not made any remarks reflecting upon you as a gentleman and a man of honour.“Very respectfully,“Your obedient servant,“John B. Grayson,“Captain 165 A.“Lieutenant Mayne Reid,“N.Y. Volunteers.”The following letter from Mr Piatt was addressed to Dr Halstead, city of Mexico:“Mac-o-Chee, December 1847.“Dr Halstead,“Dear Sir,“I address you with pain and regret on account of the late intelligence brought us by the papers of the severe wound received by Lieutenant Reid and his death. Whilst we look with pride upon the many gallant deeds he performed, it but poorly remunerates us for so severe a loss. And we should receive with sad but infinite pleasure any further account of him whilst wounded. It is with regret that we call upon you to give us this sad intelligence, as it may inconvenience you, but the deep interest we felt for Mr Reid has tempted us to trouble you with these inquiries, and remain,“Yours respectfully,“A.L. Piatt.”The Piatts were originally a French family, and the elder Mr Piatt, the writer of the letter, was a great friend of Mayne Reid.It is not given to every man to read obituary notices of himself, but this happened to Mayne Reid more than once. So marvellous, indeed, were his recoveries from the brink of death, that he came to be regarded by his friends as bearing a “charmed life.”Two or three weeks after the announcement of his death, theNew York Heraldpublished a contradiction of the report:“Through misinformation, it was currently reported that Lieutenant Mayne Reid, whose gallant behaviour at the battle of Chapultepec called forth a merited compliment from General Scott in one of his late dispatches, had died of his wounds. We are informed by one of our returned officers that although wounded severely by an escopette ball in the left leg above the knee, he has since recovered, and intends to remain. Of course he will be promoted.”In theNational Gazetteof Philadelphia was printed:—“We perceive in the list of wounded in the recent battles in Mexico, the name of Lieutenant Mayne Reid, of New York. If we mistake not, the gentleman named is favourably known throughout the country as a writer, and a contributor to our leading magazines. For several years he resided in Philadelphia. While in this city he won for himself many friends, as well as a high literary reputation. His first essays appeared as the compositions of the ‘Poor Scholar.’ Lieutenant Reid is a ripe scholar as well as a ready writer.”The following paragraph appeared in the PittsburghDaily Dispatch, in March, 1848:—“Lieutenant Mayne Reid, whose death was reported some time since, is about to be married to Signorina Guadaloupe Rozas, a beautiful lady, daughter of Senator Rozas, and said to be the wealthiest heiress in the Valley of Mexico. He formerly resided here, and was known as the ‘Poor Scholar.’”This report was untrue. Mayne Reid had not yet “met his fate.”He was equally distinguished in love and in war, and by some fairMexicaineswas entitled the “Don Juan de Tenorio.”An American journal describes the gallant Captain as a “mixture of Adonis and the Apollo Belvidere, with a dash of the Centaur!”He possessed a faultless figure, and the grace of his manner was very captivating.It was one of Mayne Reid’s duties in Mexico to protect the inmates of a convent, and the nuns frequently sent him little delicacies in the shape of sweetmeats, made by their own fair hands, with his initials in comfits on the top. In a letter he wrote:“During the campaign in which I had taken part, chance threw me into the company of monks of more than one order. Under the circumstances that gave meentréeof their convents, and an intimate acquaintance with the brethren, even to joining them in their cups—these consisting of the best wines of Spain and her colonies, Xeres, Canario, Pedro Ximenes, with now and then a spice of Catalan brandy, opening the hearts and loosening the tongues of these cloistered gentry—I can speak to the character of the present monks of Mexico as Friar Guage spoke of their fraternity more than a century ago.”The following letter from Mayne Reid to theOhio State Journalin 1882, may be here fitly introduced:“Sir,—My attention has been called to a letter which lately appeared in some American newspapers headed ‘Mayne Reid’s Mexican War Experiences,’ in which certain statements are made gravely affecting my character and reputation. The writer says that in Pueblao, Mexico, ‘Lieutenant Reid, while reproving one of the men of his company, became very much heated, and ran his sword through the man’s body. The man died the same night.’“Now, sir, it is quite true that I ran a soldier through with my sword, who soon after died of the wound. But it is absolutely untrue that there was any heat of temper on my part, or other incentive to act, save that of self-defence and the discharge of my duty as an officer. On the day of the occurrence I was officer of the guard, and the man a prisoner in the guard prison—where, indeed, he spent most of his time—for he was a noted desperado, and, I may add, robber, long the pest and terror not only of his comrades in the regiment, but the poor Mexican people who suffered from his depredations, as all who were then there and are still living may remember. Having several times escaped from the guard-house prison, he had that day been recaptured, and I entered the cell to see to his being; better secured. While the manacles were being placed upon his wrists—long-linked heavy irons—he clutched hold of them, and, rushing at me, aimed a blow at my head, which, but for my being too quick for him, would have been dealt me with serious if not fatal effect. He was a man of immense size and strength, and as all knew, regardless of consequences. He had been often heard to boast that no officer dare put him in irons, and threaten those who in the line of their duty had to act towards him with severity. Still, when I thrust out, it was with no intention to kill, only to keep him off, and in point of fact, in his mad rush toward me he impaled himself on my sword.“The writer of the letter goes on to say: ‘Lieutenant Reid’s grief was uncontrollable. The feeling against him, despite the fact that he had provocation for the act, was very strong in the regiment... If the regiment had not moved with the rest of the army toward Mexico the next day, Lieutenant Reid would have been court-martialled, and might have been shot.’“In answer to these serious allegations, not made in any malice, I believe, but from misinformation, I have only to say that Iwastried by court-martial, and instead of being sentenced to be shot, was ordered to resume command of my company for the forward march upon Mexico. And so far from the feeling being strong against me in the regiment, it was just the reverse, not only in the regiment, but throughout the whole army—the lamented Phil Kearney, commanding the dragoons, with many other officers of high rank, publicly declaring that for what I had done, instead of condemnation I deserved a vote of thanks. This because the army’s discipline had become greatly relaxed during the long period of inaction that preceded our advance into the Valley of Mexico, and we had much trouble with the men—especially of the volunteer regiments. My act, involuntary and unintentional though it was, did something toward bringing them back to a sense of obedience and duty. That I sorrowed for it is true, but not in the sense attributed to me by the newspaper correspondent. My grief was from the necessity that forced it upon me, and its lamentable result. It is some satisfaction to know that the unfortunate man himself held me blameless, and in his dying words, as I was told, said I had but done my duty. So I trust that this explanation will place the affair in a different light from that thrown upon it by the article alluded to.”In February, 1876, Mr Henry Lee wrote to Captain Mayne Reid for some account of the Mexican axolotl, and received the following answer:Chasewood, Ross, Herefordshire, February 28, 1876.My dear Henry Lee,—You ask me to tell you what I know of that strange Protean—theaxolotl. Such knowledge as I have is at your service.First, as to its name; which is a word purely Aztecan. The Spaniards, adopting it, have made some change in the spelling without materially altering the pronunciation. Their form isajolóte—the final syllable sounded, though with the accent on the penultimate. But, to one unacquainted with Spanish orthoepy, it may be observed that the “j” is pronounced as an aspirated “h”—in short, as the Greek chi—and so also is “x” in the Aztec orthography. The final “tl” of the latter, common to many Aztec and Zapoteque words—as intepetl(mountain),metatl(millstone), which the Indian lingeringly lets fall from the tip of his tongue—cannot well be symbolised by any exponent of vocal sound in our language. The Spaniards represent it indifferently by “te,” sometimes with the addition of a “c,” thus,metate, Popocatepec. Theajolóte, however, is without the added “c,” and pronounced, as nearly as possible,ah-ho-loát-e, with emphasis on the “loát,” and the terminating “e” barely distinguishable.So much for the name of the reptile-fish. As to its nature, I fear I can add but little to the information already before the public; though, perhaps, something of itshabitatthat may be interesting. Your species, of the Brighton Aquarium, dwells in the Laguna de Tezcoco—the largest of six lakes that lie in the Valley of Mexico. An ordinary map will indicate only five: Chalco, Xochimilco, Tezcoco, San Christobal, and Zumpango; and of these alone does Humboldt speak in his “Essai Politique.” But there are in reality six—the sixth called Xaltocan. The two first-named are in the southern section of the valley—which, by the way, is not avalley, but aplain, with a periphery of mountains; an elevated plateau, slightly over 7,000 feet above the sea’s level, the mountain rim around, composed of parallel and transversesierrasof the great Andean Cordillera, having several summits that rise from 8,000 to 10,000 feet higher, with two—Popocatepec and Ixticihuatl—that carry the eternal snow. Chalco and Xochimilco, as observed, occupying a southern position on this plain, are both fresh water lakes—if lakes they can be called, for at the present time their surface is concealed by a thick sedge oftulares—various species of aquatic plants—whose roots, entwined, form a floating coverture termedcinta, which is in places so close and tough as to permit de-pasturage by horses and horned cattle. Here and there only are spots of clear water of very limited extent, while the vast morass, miles upon miles, is traversed by three or four canals—in the language of the country,acalotes—partly natural, but for the most part hewn out of the sedge, and kept open by the passage of the Indian boats and canoes navigating them. It was upon sections of thiscintathat the famedchinampas, or “Floating Gardens,” were constructed, and not, as erroneously stated by Humboldt, and other writers following him, on rafts of timber and sticks. I may here interpolate a fact not generally, if at all, known to Europeans: that thesechinampas(of which I hope some day to give an account) are in existence at the present time.Several species of very small fish inhabit lakes Chalco and Xochimilco; indeed, the fish marker of the Mexican capital is chiefly supplied from them. But I have never heard of the axolotl being taken, or observed in either; and you surprise me by saying it has spawned infreshwater in the Brighton Aquarium. Tezcoco, from which I presume your Protean must have come, is altogether of a different character, being salt as brine itself—so much that a man bathing in it comes out with a scaly crust over his skin, while waterfowl are often caught upon it, unable to fly through their wings getting thus encrusted! No fish can live in it, for the few minnow-like species there observed are found only by the estuaries of influent fresh-water streams. Even vegetation struggles in vain against the blighting influence of its atmosphere, and around its shores are seen but the forms of plants belonging to species that grow in salitrose soil; these so stunted and sparse as rather to heighten the impression of sterility. Tezcoco is, in truth, a Dead Sea of the Western world. Not so small, neither, since its area may be estimated at a hundred square miles, more or less. Once it was much larger—at the time of the Conquest—this being the lake whose waters washed the walls of the ancient Tenochtitlan. At the present time its edge is, at least, a league from the suburbs of the modern city standing on the same site. At certain seasons, however, after a long spell of rain, but more from the effects of a strong east wind, the lake is brought nearer, by overflow of the adjacent plain, a phenomenon leading to the popular but erroneous idea that Tezcoco, like the ocean, has a tide. Once, too, if we are to credit Humboldt, this lake was much deeper than it is now. Writing of it in 1803, he states its depth then to have been from three to five French mètres. I think the great German traveller must have been misinformed, as there has been no silting up to account for its present shallowness. There is not a spot in Lake Tezcoco where a man, standing upright, would have his head under water. It is traversed by market boats of the bread-basket pattern, flat bottomed, and impelled by poling—just the same sort as Cortez found navigating it when he launched his brigantine on its eastern edge, which vessel was doubtless nothing more than a rude raft. Theperiaguas, and other craft which now ply upon it, bringing produce from Tezcoco, and other lake shore towns to the capital city, are all of the punt species, none of them drawing over eighteen inches of water. Notwithstanding, they have to keep to well-known ways, where the lake is deepest, guiding their course by certain landmarks on the shore, passing a wooden cross, “La Cruz,” planted near the centre, coming in sight of which the devout—or rather, I should say, superstitious—boatmen uncover, and offer up a prayer to “Al Virgen.”This grand shallow sheet, then, so saline that fish cannot live in it, and vegetation withers under its blighting breath, is the congenial dwelling-place of the axolotl, and, if I mistake not, its only one in the Valley of Mexico; at least I am not aware of its existence in the other three lakes lying northward, their waters salt, too, but at times so low as to be almost dried up, or showing only a residuum of mud, its surface an efflorescence, akin to soda, and resembling hoar frost, called “tequiqzuite.”Though in a sense the sole inhabitant of Tezcoco, the axolotl is not left to peaceful or undisputed possession of the lake. It has its enemies in the predatory aquatic birds—herons, cranes, and cormorants—while man is also among them. To the “Lake Indian” its capture is a matter of economic industry, its flesh being a saleable commodity in the market. It is not absolutely relished as an article of food, except by the Indians themselves; who, as is well known, will eat anything and everything that lives, moves, and has being, be it fish, fowl, reptile, or insect. This, from ancient usage, originally a thing of necessity, not choice, when the Aztec, surrounded by Tlascallan, with other warlike enemies, was confined to the islands of this inland sea, and from it compelled to draw part of his sustenance—to eat indifferently frogs, tadpoles, newts, and such repulsive reptiles; as also the eggs of a curious water-fly—the axavacatl (Ahuatlea Mexicana)—a sort of “caviar,” still obtainable in the markets of the Mexican capital. I have seen the axolotl of respectable dimensions—at least a foot in length, while specimens of fifteen and sixteen inches are occasionally exhibited. Fish or flesh, relished or not, it is often eaten by invalids, the Mexicanmedicospronouncing it a specific for liver inflammation and pulmonary complaints, as we do cod-liver oil; while it is also supposed to be serviceable in cases of hectic fever, and as a food for children. A mucilaginous syrup, compounded of its gelatinous portions and certain medicinal herbs, is sold in theboticasof the apothecaries as a balsam for colds, coughs, and other bronchial maladies.I refrain from touching on the zoological character of this creature, so strangely abnormal, as I could add nothing to what is already known to you. Besides, that is a question for the scientific naturalist, to whom I leave it. But it may not be generally known that, in addition to your Brighton Aquarium species—which is, I suppose, theSiredon Humboldtii, orSiredon Harlanii, of Laguna de Tezcoco—there is a new and quite distinct one recently discovered, inhabiting Lake Patzcuaro. This large sheet of water, lying centrally in the State of Michoacan—more than a hundred miles from the Mexican valley, in a direction nearly due west—has also its axolotl. Its discoverer has named itSiredon Dumerilii, after the accomplished French herpetologist; while its local vulgar name on the shores of Patzcuaro is “achoque de agua,” or “water achoque,” to distinguish it from a sort of land lizard called “achoque de tierra”—theBolitoglossa Mexicanaof Dumeril and Bibron, also common around the edges of the Michoacan Lake. The Patzcuaro species differs from yours of the Brighton Aquarium in several respects. In size it is somewhat the same; but its colour, instead of being blackish, or white, as in the Albino varieties of Humboldt’s Siredon, is of a violet-red, slightly blemished with grey, the gills only being black, while the neck, throat, and breast are of a pale, whitish hue.Without dwelling longer on this subject, I will venture to say that when all of the great Mexican saline lakes—such as Chapa’a and Cuitzoc—are searched, there will be found other species of axolotl, distinct from any of those yet known to science. Mexico is a fine field for the scientific explorer; its paths hitherto but little trodden by the naturalist, because unsafe from being so much frequented by the “Knights of the Road,” yclepedsalteadores.Mayne Reid.

Mayne Reid was laid up in the city of Mexico for some time. It was at first supposed that amputation of the leg would be necessary; but on the doctors consulting, they came to the conclusion that this would be certain death, as the bullet had only just escaped severing the femoral artery. At last, under skilful care, he made a good recovery, and by the following December we find him on the eve of fighting a duel, but the challenged one “backed out,” his friend sending the following letter:

“City of Mexico,

“December 19th, 1847.

“Sir,

“Captain McKinstry has received your note of yesterday, and has requested me, as his friend, to inform you that he has not made any remarks reflecting upon you as a gentleman and a man of honour.

“Very respectfully,

“Your obedient servant,

“John B. Grayson,

“Captain 165 A.

“Lieutenant Mayne Reid,

“N.Y. Volunteers.”

The following letter from Mr Piatt was addressed to Dr Halstead, city of Mexico:

“Mac-o-Chee, December 1847.

“Dr Halstead,

“Dear Sir,

“I address you with pain and regret on account of the late intelligence brought us by the papers of the severe wound received by Lieutenant Reid and his death. Whilst we look with pride upon the many gallant deeds he performed, it but poorly remunerates us for so severe a loss. And we should receive with sad but infinite pleasure any further account of him whilst wounded. It is with regret that we call upon you to give us this sad intelligence, as it may inconvenience you, but the deep interest we felt for Mr Reid has tempted us to trouble you with these inquiries, and remain,

“Yours respectfully,

“A.L. Piatt.”

The Piatts were originally a French family, and the elder Mr Piatt, the writer of the letter, was a great friend of Mayne Reid.

It is not given to every man to read obituary notices of himself, but this happened to Mayne Reid more than once. So marvellous, indeed, were his recoveries from the brink of death, that he came to be regarded by his friends as bearing a “charmed life.”

Two or three weeks after the announcement of his death, theNew York Heraldpublished a contradiction of the report:

“Through misinformation, it was currently reported that Lieutenant Mayne Reid, whose gallant behaviour at the battle of Chapultepec called forth a merited compliment from General Scott in one of his late dispatches, had died of his wounds. We are informed by one of our returned officers that although wounded severely by an escopette ball in the left leg above the knee, he has since recovered, and intends to remain. Of course he will be promoted.”

In theNational Gazetteof Philadelphia was printed:—“We perceive in the list of wounded in the recent battles in Mexico, the name of Lieutenant Mayne Reid, of New York. If we mistake not, the gentleman named is favourably known throughout the country as a writer, and a contributor to our leading magazines. For several years he resided in Philadelphia. While in this city he won for himself many friends, as well as a high literary reputation. His first essays appeared as the compositions of the ‘Poor Scholar.’ Lieutenant Reid is a ripe scholar as well as a ready writer.”

The following paragraph appeared in the PittsburghDaily Dispatch, in March, 1848:—“Lieutenant Mayne Reid, whose death was reported some time since, is about to be married to Signorina Guadaloupe Rozas, a beautiful lady, daughter of Senator Rozas, and said to be the wealthiest heiress in the Valley of Mexico. He formerly resided here, and was known as the ‘Poor Scholar.’”

This report was untrue. Mayne Reid had not yet “met his fate.”

He was equally distinguished in love and in war, and by some fairMexicaineswas entitled the “Don Juan de Tenorio.”

An American journal describes the gallant Captain as a “mixture of Adonis and the Apollo Belvidere, with a dash of the Centaur!”

He possessed a faultless figure, and the grace of his manner was very captivating.

It was one of Mayne Reid’s duties in Mexico to protect the inmates of a convent, and the nuns frequently sent him little delicacies in the shape of sweetmeats, made by their own fair hands, with his initials in comfits on the top. In a letter he wrote:

“During the campaign in which I had taken part, chance threw me into the company of monks of more than one order. Under the circumstances that gave meentréeof their convents, and an intimate acquaintance with the brethren, even to joining them in their cups—these consisting of the best wines of Spain and her colonies, Xeres, Canario, Pedro Ximenes, with now and then a spice of Catalan brandy, opening the hearts and loosening the tongues of these cloistered gentry—I can speak to the character of the present monks of Mexico as Friar Guage spoke of their fraternity more than a century ago.”

The following letter from Mayne Reid to theOhio State Journalin 1882, may be here fitly introduced:

“Sir,—My attention has been called to a letter which lately appeared in some American newspapers headed ‘Mayne Reid’s Mexican War Experiences,’ in which certain statements are made gravely affecting my character and reputation. The writer says that in Pueblao, Mexico, ‘Lieutenant Reid, while reproving one of the men of his company, became very much heated, and ran his sword through the man’s body. The man died the same night.’

“Now, sir, it is quite true that I ran a soldier through with my sword, who soon after died of the wound. But it is absolutely untrue that there was any heat of temper on my part, or other incentive to act, save that of self-defence and the discharge of my duty as an officer. On the day of the occurrence I was officer of the guard, and the man a prisoner in the guard prison—where, indeed, he spent most of his time—for he was a noted desperado, and, I may add, robber, long the pest and terror not only of his comrades in the regiment, but the poor Mexican people who suffered from his depredations, as all who were then there and are still living may remember. Having several times escaped from the guard-house prison, he had that day been recaptured, and I entered the cell to see to his being; better secured. While the manacles were being placed upon his wrists—long-linked heavy irons—he clutched hold of them, and, rushing at me, aimed a blow at my head, which, but for my being too quick for him, would have been dealt me with serious if not fatal effect. He was a man of immense size and strength, and as all knew, regardless of consequences. He had been often heard to boast that no officer dare put him in irons, and threaten those who in the line of their duty had to act towards him with severity. Still, when I thrust out, it was with no intention to kill, only to keep him off, and in point of fact, in his mad rush toward me he impaled himself on my sword.

“The writer of the letter goes on to say: ‘Lieutenant Reid’s grief was uncontrollable. The feeling against him, despite the fact that he had provocation for the act, was very strong in the regiment... If the regiment had not moved with the rest of the army toward Mexico the next day, Lieutenant Reid would have been court-martialled, and might have been shot.’

“In answer to these serious allegations, not made in any malice, I believe, but from misinformation, I have only to say that Iwastried by court-martial, and instead of being sentenced to be shot, was ordered to resume command of my company for the forward march upon Mexico. And so far from the feeling being strong against me in the regiment, it was just the reverse, not only in the regiment, but throughout the whole army—the lamented Phil Kearney, commanding the dragoons, with many other officers of high rank, publicly declaring that for what I had done, instead of condemnation I deserved a vote of thanks. This because the army’s discipline had become greatly relaxed during the long period of inaction that preceded our advance into the Valley of Mexico, and we had much trouble with the men—especially of the volunteer regiments. My act, involuntary and unintentional though it was, did something toward bringing them back to a sense of obedience and duty. That I sorrowed for it is true, but not in the sense attributed to me by the newspaper correspondent. My grief was from the necessity that forced it upon me, and its lamentable result. It is some satisfaction to know that the unfortunate man himself held me blameless, and in his dying words, as I was told, said I had but done my duty. So I trust that this explanation will place the affair in a different light from that thrown upon it by the article alluded to.”

In February, 1876, Mr Henry Lee wrote to Captain Mayne Reid for some account of the Mexican axolotl, and received the following answer:

Chasewood, Ross, Herefordshire, February 28, 1876.

My dear Henry Lee,—You ask me to tell you what I know of that strange Protean—theaxolotl. Such knowledge as I have is at your service.

First, as to its name; which is a word purely Aztecan. The Spaniards, adopting it, have made some change in the spelling without materially altering the pronunciation. Their form isajolóte—the final syllable sounded, though with the accent on the penultimate. But, to one unacquainted with Spanish orthoepy, it may be observed that the “j” is pronounced as an aspirated “h”—in short, as the Greek chi—and so also is “x” in the Aztec orthography. The final “tl” of the latter, common to many Aztec and Zapoteque words—as intepetl(mountain),metatl(millstone), which the Indian lingeringly lets fall from the tip of his tongue—cannot well be symbolised by any exponent of vocal sound in our language. The Spaniards represent it indifferently by “te,” sometimes with the addition of a “c,” thus,metate, Popocatepec. Theajolóte, however, is without the added “c,” and pronounced, as nearly as possible,ah-ho-loát-e, with emphasis on the “loát,” and the terminating “e” barely distinguishable.

So much for the name of the reptile-fish. As to its nature, I fear I can add but little to the information already before the public; though, perhaps, something of itshabitatthat may be interesting. Your species, of the Brighton Aquarium, dwells in the Laguna de Tezcoco—the largest of six lakes that lie in the Valley of Mexico. An ordinary map will indicate only five: Chalco, Xochimilco, Tezcoco, San Christobal, and Zumpango; and of these alone does Humboldt speak in his “Essai Politique.” But there are in reality six—the sixth called Xaltocan. The two first-named are in the southern section of the valley—which, by the way, is not avalley, but aplain, with a periphery of mountains; an elevated plateau, slightly over 7,000 feet above the sea’s level, the mountain rim around, composed of parallel and transversesierrasof the great Andean Cordillera, having several summits that rise from 8,000 to 10,000 feet higher, with two—Popocatepec and Ixticihuatl—that carry the eternal snow. Chalco and Xochimilco, as observed, occupying a southern position on this plain, are both fresh water lakes—if lakes they can be called, for at the present time their surface is concealed by a thick sedge oftulares—various species of aquatic plants—whose roots, entwined, form a floating coverture termedcinta, which is in places so close and tough as to permit de-pasturage by horses and horned cattle. Here and there only are spots of clear water of very limited extent, while the vast morass, miles upon miles, is traversed by three or four canals—in the language of the country,acalotes—partly natural, but for the most part hewn out of the sedge, and kept open by the passage of the Indian boats and canoes navigating them. It was upon sections of thiscintathat the famedchinampas, or “Floating Gardens,” were constructed, and not, as erroneously stated by Humboldt, and other writers following him, on rafts of timber and sticks. I may here interpolate a fact not generally, if at all, known to Europeans: that thesechinampas(of which I hope some day to give an account) are in existence at the present time.

Several species of very small fish inhabit lakes Chalco and Xochimilco; indeed, the fish marker of the Mexican capital is chiefly supplied from them. But I have never heard of the axolotl being taken, or observed in either; and you surprise me by saying it has spawned infreshwater in the Brighton Aquarium. Tezcoco, from which I presume your Protean must have come, is altogether of a different character, being salt as brine itself—so much that a man bathing in it comes out with a scaly crust over his skin, while waterfowl are often caught upon it, unable to fly through their wings getting thus encrusted! No fish can live in it, for the few minnow-like species there observed are found only by the estuaries of influent fresh-water streams. Even vegetation struggles in vain against the blighting influence of its atmosphere, and around its shores are seen but the forms of plants belonging to species that grow in salitrose soil; these so stunted and sparse as rather to heighten the impression of sterility. Tezcoco is, in truth, a Dead Sea of the Western world. Not so small, neither, since its area may be estimated at a hundred square miles, more or less. Once it was much larger—at the time of the Conquest—this being the lake whose waters washed the walls of the ancient Tenochtitlan. At the present time its edge is, at least, a league from the suburbs of the modern city standing on the same site. At certain seasons, however, after a long spell of rain, but more from the effects of a strong east wind, the lake is brought nearer, by overflow of the adjacent plain, a phenomenon leading to the popular but erroneous idea that Tezcoco, like the ocean, has a tide. Once, too, if we are to credit Humboldt, this lake was much deeper than it is now. Writing of it in 1803, he states its depth then to have been from three to five French mètres. I think the great German traveller must have been misinformed, as there has been no silting up to account for its present shallowness. There is not a spot in Lake Tezcoco where a man, standing upright, would have his head under water. It is traversed by market boats of the bread-basket pattern, flat bottomed, and impelled by poling—just the same sort as Cortez found navigating it when he launched his brigantine on its eastern edge, which vessel was doubtless nothing more than a rude raft. Theperiaguas, and other craft which now ply upon it, bringing produce from Tezcoco, and other lake shore towns to the capital city, are all of the punt species, none of them drawing over eighteen inches of water. Notwithstanding, they have to keep to well-known ways, where the lake is deepest, guiding their course by certain landmarks on the shore, passing a wooden cross, “La Cruz,” planted near the centre, coming in sight of which the devout—or rather, I should say, superstitious—boatmen uncover, and offer up a prayer to “Al Virgen.”

This grand shallow sheet, then, so saline that fish cannot live in it, and vegetation withers under its blighting breath, is the congenial dwelling-place of the axolotl, and, if I mistake not, its only one in the Valley of Mexico; at least I am not aware of its existence in the other three lakes lying northward, their waters salt, too, but at times so low as to be almost dried up, or showing only a residuum of mud, its surface an efflorescence, akin to soda, and resembling hoar frost, called “tequiqzuite.”

Though in a sense the sole inhabitant of Tezcoco, the axolotl is not left to peaceful or undisputed possession of the lake. It has its enemies in the predatory aquatic birds—herons, cranes, and cormorants—while man is also among them. To the “Lake Indian” its capture is a matter of economic industry, its flesh being a saleable commodity in the market. It is not absolutely relished as an article of food, except by the Indians themselves; who, as is well known, will eat anything and everything that lives, moves, and has being, be it fish, fowl, reptile, or insect. This, from ancient usage, originally a thing of necessity, not choice, when the Aztec, surrounded by Tlascallan, with other warlike enemies, was confined to the islands of this inland sea, and from it compelled to draw part of his sustenance—to eat indifferently frogs, tadpoles, newts, and such repulsive reptiles; as also the eggs of a curious water-fly—the axavacatl (Ahuatlea Mexicana)—a sort of “caviar,” still obtainable in the markets of the Mexican capital. I have seen the axolotl of respectable dimensions—at least a foot in length, while specimens of fifteen and sixteen inches are occasionally exhibited. Fish or flesh, relished or not, it is often eaten by invalids, the Mexicanmedicospronouncing it a specific for liver inflammation and pulmonary complaints, as we do cod-liver oil; while it is also supposed to be serviceable in cases of hectic fever, and as a food for children. A mucilaginous syrup, compounded of its gelatinous portions and certain medicinal herbs, is sold in theboticasof the apothecaries as a balsam for colds, coughs, and other bronchial maladies.

I refrain from touching on the zoological character of this creature, so strangely abnormal, as I could add nothing to what is already known to you. Besides, that is a question for the scientific naturalist, to whom I leave it. But it may not be generally known that, in addition to your Brighton Aquarium species—which is, I suppose, theSiredon Humboldtii, orSiredon Harlanii, of Laguna de Tezcoco—there is a new and quite distinct one recently discovered, inhabiting Lake Patzcuaro. This large sheet of water, lying centrally in the State of Michoacan—more than a hundred miles from the Mexican valley, in a direction nearly due west—has also its axolotl. Its discoverer has named itSiredon Dumerilii, after the accomplished French herpetologist; while its local vulgar name on the shores of Patzcuaro is “achoque de agua,” or “water achoque,” to distinguish it from a sort of land lizard called “achoque de tierra”—theBolitoglossa Mexicanaof Dumeril and Bibron, also common around the edges of the Michoacan Lake. The Patzcuaro species differs from yours of the Brighton Aquarium in several respects. In size it is somewhat the same; but its colour, instead of being blackish, or white, as in the Albino varieties of Humboldt’s Siredon, is of a violet-red, slightly blemished with grey, the gills only being black, while the neck, throat, and breast are of a pale, whitish hue.

Without dwelling longer on this subject, I will venture to say that when all of the great Mexican saline lakes—such as Chapa’a and Cuitzoc—are searched, there will be found other species of axolotl, distinct from any of those yet known to science. Mexico is a fine field for the scientific explorer; its paths hitherto but little trodden by the naturalist, because unsafe from being so much frequented by the “Knights of the Road,” yclepedsalteadores.

Mayne Reid.

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