Mayne Reid Part 5

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, the _New York Herald_ published 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 the _National Gazette_ of 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 Pittsburgh _Daily 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 fair _Mexicaines_ was ent.i.tled 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 circ.u.mstances that gave me _entree_ of 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 the _Ohio State Journal_ in 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, rus.h.i.+ng 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 I _was_ tried 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, Herefords.h.i.+re, February 28, 1876.

My dear Henry Lee,--You ask me to tell you what I know of that strange Protean--the _axolotl_. 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 p.r.o.nunciation. Their form is _ajolote_--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 p.r.o.nounced 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 in _tepetl_ (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_. The _ajolote_, however, is without the added "c," and p.r.o.nounced, as nearly as possible, _ah-ho-loat-e_, with emphasis on the "loat," 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 its _habitat_ that 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 a _valley_, but a _plain_, 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 transverse _sierras_ of 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 of _tulares_--various species of aquatic plants--whose roots, entwined, form a floating coverture termed _cinta_, 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 mora.s.s, miles upon miles, is traversed by three or four ca.n.a.ls--in the language of the country, _acalotes_--partly natural, but for the most part hewn out of the sedge, and kept open by the pa.s.sage of the Indian boats and canoes navigating them. It was upon sections of this _cinta_ that the famed _chinampas_, 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 these _chinampas_ (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 sp.a.w.ned in _fresh_ water 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 sh.o.r.es are seen but the forms of plants belonging to species that grow in salitrose soil; these so stunted and spa.r.s.e 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 Tenocht.i.tlan. 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 metres. 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. The _periaguas_, and other craft which now ply upon it, bringing produce from Tezcoco, and other lake sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e, pa.s.sing a wooden cross, "La Cruz,"

planted near the centre, coming in sight of which the devout--or rather, I should say, superst.i.tious--boatmen uncover, and offer up a prayer to "Al Virgen."