any surprise, by searching the forests and examining the tall grass. El Alferez was on the right of the army, Fray Antonio on the left, the Jaguar had the rear guard, while Don Felix, with six hundred sabres, formed the van. One word as to the guerillas of the ex-Mayor-domo of the Larch-tree hacienda. The men who composed his band, raised on lands dependent on the hacienda, had been enlisted by Don Felix. They were Indios mansos, vaqueros, and peons, mostly half savages, and rogues to a certain extent, who fought like lions at the order of their leader, to whom they were thoroughly devoted, but only recognising and obeying him, while caring nothing for the other leaders of the army. Don Felix Paz had joined the insurgents about two months previously, and rendered them eminent service with his guerillas. Hence, he had in a short time gained general confidence. We shall soon see whether he was worthy of it.
By a singular coincidence, the two armies left their camp at the same time, and marched one against the other, little suspecting that two hours later they would be face to face.
CHAPTER VI
THE BATTLE OF CERRO PARDO
The battle of Cerro Pardo was one of those sanguinary days, whose memory a nation retains for ages as an ill-omened date. In order to explain to the reader thoroughly how the events happened which we are about to narrate, we must give a detailed account of the ground on which they took place.
The spot selected by the Mexicans to effect their landing after leaving Galveston, had been very cleverly chosen by General Rubio. The stream, which, for some distance, is enclosed by high banks, runs at that spot through an extensive plain, covered with tall grass and clumps of trees, the last relics of a virgin forest, which the claims of trade have almost destroyed. This plain is closed by a species of cañón, or very narrow gorge, enclosed between two lofty Mils, whose scarped flanks are carpeted at all seasons with plants and flowers. These two hills are the Cerro Pardo and the Cerro Prieto, – that is to say, the Red Mountain and the Black Mountain.
At the canyon begins a road, or, to speak more correctly, a rather wide track, bordered by bogs and morasses, and running to the cross we have before visited. This road is the only one that can be followed in going from the interior to the seashore. A little in advance of the two hills, whose summit is covered with dense wood and scrub, extend marshes, which are the more dangerous, because their surface is perfidiously covered with close green grass, which completely conceals from the traveller the terrible danger to which he is exposed if he venture on to this moving abyss. The Cerro Pardo, which is much higher than the other hill, not only commands the latter, but also the surrounding country, as well as the sea.
After what we have said, the reader will easily perceive that the enterprise attempted by the Texans was only possible in the event of the coast being entirely undefended; but under the present circumstances, the inconceivable obstinacy of the Commander-in-Chief was the more incomprehensible, because he was not only thoroughly acquainted with the country, but at the moment when the army was about to begin its forward movements, several spies came in in succession, bringing news which entirely coincided with the positive reports already made by John Davis.
Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first blind. This wise and thoughtful man, who had ever acted with extreme prudence, and whose conceptions up to this day had been remarkable for their lucidity, was deaf to all remonstrances, and the order was given to march. The army at once set out; Don Felix Paz went on ahead with his guerillas, while the Jaguar's cuadrilla, on the contrary, remained in the rear. Tranquil, in spite of the wounds he had received, would not remain in the fort; he came along lying in a cart, having at his side Carmela and Quoniam, who paid him the utmost attention; while Lanzi, at the head of a dozen picked Freebooters given him by the Jaguar, escorted the cart, in the event of the army being disturbed during the march.
The Jaguar was sorrowful, a gloomy presentiment seemed to warn him of a misfortune. This daring man, who carried out as if in sport the maddest and most venturesome deeds, now advanced reluctantly, hesitating and constantly looking about him suspiciously, and almost timidly. Assuredly, he feared no personal danger; what did he care for an attack? What alarm did he feel about dying? Peril was his element; the heated atmosphere of battle, the odour of powder intoxicated him, and made him feel strange delight; but at this moment Carmela was near him; Carmela, whom he had so miraculously found again, and whom he feared to lose again. This strong man felt his heart soften at the thought, hence he insisted on taking the rear guard, in order to watch more closely over the maiden, and be in a position to help her if necessary.
The superior Commander had not dared to refuse the bold partisan this post, which he asked for as a favour. This condescension on the part of the Chief had terrible consequences, and was partly the cause of the events that happened a few hours later.
The Texan troops, in spite of the various element of which they were composed, advanced, however, with an order and discipline that would have done honour to regulars. Don Felix Paz had thrown out to the right and left of the road flankers ordered to investigate the chaparral, and guarantee the safety of the route; but in spite of these precautions, whether the Mexicans were really ambushed in inaccessible places, or for some other reason, the flankers did not discover them, and the vanguard advanced at a pace which heightened the security of the main body, and gradually induced the Chiefs to relax their previous watchfulness.
The vanguard reached the cross, and nothing had as yet happened in any way to trouble the march of the army. Don Felix, after allowing his cuadrilla to halt for twenty minutes, resolutely entered the road that led to the spot where the Mexicans had landed. From the cross to the Rio Trinidad was no great distance, and could be covered in less than two hours by troops marching at the ordinary pace. The road, however, after passing the cross, insensibly becomes narrower, and soon changes into a very confined track, in which three persons can scarce walk abreast.
We have said that trembling prairies extend on either side of this road. We will explain, in a few sentences, what these trembling prairies are, which are met with in several parts of America, but principally in Texas and Louisiana. These prairies, if we may trust to the frequently false theories of science, have a similar organ to that of Artesian springs, for the earth does in one case what water does in the other. Through the action of geological dynamics, the earthy matter which constitutes the trembling prairies ascends to the surface of lakes and ponds, while in Artesian wells the water rushes up from the depths through the pressure of the strata by which it was held down.
Nothing is more dangerous than those trembling prairies, covered with a perfidious vegetation that deceives the eye. The Rio Trinidad flows at a few hundred yards from the prairie we have just described, conveying into the Gulf of Mexico the sedimentary deposits which would consolidate this shifting soil. Nature has already traced canals intersecting the prairie, and which run between banks formed by mysterious forces. The wild beasts, whose admirable instinct never deceives them, have for ages past formed tracks across these dangerous zones, and the path followed by the Texan army was no other than one of those trails trodden by the wild beasts when they go down at night to water.
I know not whether, since Texas has gained its liberty and been incorporated with the United States, any attempt has been made to drain these prairies. And yet, I believe that it would require but a very slight effort to complete the work so intelligently sketched out by nature. It would be sufficient to dig a series of colmates, or aqueducts, which would introduce into the trembling prairie the turbid waters of the river, and convey to it the sedimentary matter; and, before all, the vegetation growing on the prairie should not be burnt, as is the unfortunate custom. With these two conditions, a firm, rich, and fertile soil would soon be attained in the line of these slimy and pestilential marshes that poison the air, produce contagious diseases, and cause the death of so many unfortunate travellers, deceived by the luxuriant appearance of these prairies, and who perish miserably, by being swallowed up in their fetid mud.
But in America it is not so much land that is wanting as men. Probably, the trembling prairies will remain for a long time what they are at the present day, for no one has a really personal interest in draining and getting rid of them.
We will now take up our story at the point where we broke it off, begging the reader to forgive us the long digression in which we indulged, but which has its value, we think, in a work intended to make known a country which is destined ere long