The new year dawned upon us, and January and February passed rapidly away. The popularity of the Mexican Commandante, Telles, was waning fast. A number of his own officers had pronounced against him—but this, with a few effective followers, was speedily put down, and the leader shot. However, a strong force from Culiacan was raised by the powerful family of Vegas, the legitimate Governor of Sonora—and from whom Telles had wrested the command of Mazatlan—in conjunction with a body of three hundred troops, under one Romero, from the opposite extreme of the province Tepic, and resolved to gain the ascendancy by destroying our blockaders. Upon the approach of these bodies, Telles' troops refused to fight against their countrymen, and nothing was left for their old captain but to succumb to circumstances; these ups and downs, however, being not uncommon in Mexico, the chagrin attending the disgrace is not taken seriously to heart. After a week's intrigue and negociations, finding his enemies implacable, he resigned his authority, was then betrayed, arrested, sent to Guadalajara under a guard, where he shortly afterwards expired. His case excited much sympathy, for he bore the reputation of being brave and generous, lavishing all he received upon the treacherous friends about him, who flattered and cheated, until adversity stalked in, when away flew The united force of the Mexicans who had assembled in Rosario, amounted to one thousand, three hundred of which were cavalry, and seven pieces of artillery. They talked bravely of driving the Yankees on board the ships, and were constantly drilling and exercising their troops and guns. Vegas' proclamations were During all this time we never for a moment ceased keeping up a rigid discipline, and exercising the utmost vigilance; the severest punishment was impartially meted to all offenders; and our knowledge of the topography of the country, for some miles round, being quite equal to the Mexicans', they had good reason to keep beyond our limits. At rare intervals, indiscreet persons would try to run the gauntlet into town, and one dark night, three Once, after hearing the report of a musket, I inquired of the sentry the cause. "Sir," said he, "the chap wouldn't stop, so I hailed him in the very best Spanish, and then fired; there he lies kickin', up the road, sir!" It turned out to be an innocent stray jackass, a bad linguist, who could only converse in his mother tongue. However, these little incidents convinced our neighbors that security did not throw us off our guard. We still worked hard at the Garita—deepening the ditch—filling up embrasures, and raising the walls. It was fatiguing labor, for the heavy stone had to be wheeled from the base of the hill. Already strong frames of timber had been erected at angles in the walls, where three twelve-pounder short guns moved on quadrants, overlooking the parapet, and sweeping the hill in every part, while, near the centre of the little fortress, a beautiful long brass nine traversed on a circle, that could throw the iron messengers two miles over the plains below. The sides of the building facing the lagoons were planked up, enclosing spacious piazzas, and sheltering the men from nightly malaria borne along by the Many of the officers who had been detailed for service at the Garita, were eventually obliged, on the score of health, to leave for more healthy posts; and in the end, Mr. Mitch and myself were the only ones left. Our quarters were immediately over the men, in a large square apartment, the ceiling taking the angle of the roof; two balconied windows faced the sea; another overlooked the port and estero, while a large, roomy piazza commanded a wide and extensive view of the surrounding plains, dotted by fields and ranches, with a high wall of mountains in the back ground. When in the town the heat was almost insupportable; in our casa blanca it was never in the least degree oppressive. We always slept under a blanket, in white canvas cots, swinging from the rafters, curtained off by bunting. Bathing was our chief delight, and the green waves well nigh broke at the base of the hill, where we played in the foaming surf for hours each day. We had breakfast brought from the French hotel in the town, which incident happened about eleven o'clock, on a table screened off in the piazza. Coffee we sipped, with a spoonful of cogniac, before the morning's bath, to drive away the malaria. So we drank light bordeaux with the meal, and when nice fruit passed the Garita, made a selection, in lieu of the abolished alcobala. Ah, dear Mitch, those were pleasant days! And do you ever recall our pleasant little suppers by night—our cosy confabs—our sage reflections—quiet moralizings and speculations upon the reverses of fortune, after an interview with Don Manuel—and our schemes for reform. Ah, my boy, those bright days have Just without the range of our guns was a ranchito, owning for its mistress a jolly dame, named Madre Maria; it was not for her that we occasionally extended our evening's ride, but for a half-uttered adios! Capitan! from the pearly teeth of little Juanita. I believe there never was so much dirt and beauty combined. She was the sweetest mite imaginable, and of a style to have destroyed Murillo's slumbers. Then pretty Juana suffered from calenturas—fever and ague,—and I at times carried a little phial of quinine, and felt Juana's pulse and temples, but the jolly patrona would shake her head roguishly, and exclaim, jestingly,—No es possible, SeÑor Chato, sin matrimonio—you can't make love without marriage. Ah! pico largo, I would reply, con razon, pero llama vd el padre Molino—certainly, so send for Father Windmill. We had a private code of signals with Maria, to hang a "banner on the outward walls," in shape of a white petticoat, whenever the Mexican troops came within hail. She mortally detested them, for they made too free with her hen-roost, and muscal bottles; and on her weekly pilgrimages to the port, seated on a quiet mule, with pretty Juana behind, attired in her holiday dress, and Jesusita, the youngest and most diminutive piece of womanhood, tripping along the road beside them, they would pay us a visit at the casa blanca, with some little present, of eggs or fruit; and the brave old lady would invariably It not unfrequently happened, that reports were circulated, without much foundation, that the troops outside were about to attack the post, and as a consequence the timid farmers living in the environs became alarmed, and would send their families to seek shelter within the fort. At times we would be gratified with fifty or sixty women and children visitors, huddled together quite contented and merry about the piazzas. They had learned to place full reliance upon their invaders, and whatever course we adopted was looked upon as the only correct and proper mode of acting. While testing the range of our guns one morning, a carronade was accidentally discharged, and a stand of grape-shot struck the lagoon below, dashing a shower of spray over a group of old crones washing on the banks. I immediately ran down to see if On Sundays our receptions were more select; then the Élite of Mazatlan extended their promenades around the works of the garrison, and would be induced to ascend the hill, and sip dulces or italia at our quarters in the casa blanca. The gentlemen would glance over the newspapers detailing revolutions or pronunciamentos in the interior, when casting up their eyes, with a simultaneous puff of cigar smoke, would exclaim—Ay! pobre Mexico! and one had the sense to observe, that the war was death to Mexicans, but life to Mexico. But of one fact no logic could convince them—that our worthy collector of the Duana returned all he received to the government—so wonderful a dispensation, that an honest administrador could be found in any position was entirely beyond their comprehension. The ladies were generally very curious and inquisitive, and after affording all the information we possessed, relating to domestic economy and dress, once a pair of lovely seÑoras, after mature reflection, apparently having made up their minds, favored me in this strain: "Without doubt, you North Americans are very good people, and you don't beat your wives; but then you don't know how to lavish money on ladies like our own countrymen!" But I interposed—"We feel obliged to pay our debts, and then pleasure afterwards." "Bah que importa," said they; "all we know is, that where you Yankees give a dollar, our people shower gold." |