The end of the war
Now are our brows bound with victorious
wreaths,
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
And now instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
Shakespeare.
Ten days later Molina-del-Rey,
Casa-de-Mata, and Chapultepec had fallen! The
United States forces occupied the city of Mexico, General
Scott was in the Grand Plaza, and the American standard
waved above the capital of the Montezumas!
Let those who have a taste for swords
and muskets, drums and trumpets, blood and fire, describe
the desperate battles and splendid victories that
led to this final magnificent triumph!
My business lies with the persons
of our story, to illustrate whom I must pick out a
few isolated instances of heroism in this glorious
campaign.
Herbert Greyson’s division was
a portion of the gallant Eleventh that charged the
Mexican batteries on Molina-del-Rey. He covered
his name with glory, and qualified himself to merit
the command of the regiment, which he afterwards received.
Traverse Rocke fought like a young
Paladin. When they were marching into the very
mouths of the cannon they were vomiting fire upon them,
and when the young ensign of his company was struck
down before him, Traverse Rocke took the colors from
his falling hand, and crying “Victory!”
pressed onward and upward over the dead and the dying,
and springing upon one of the guns which continued
to belch forth fire, he thrice waved the flag over
his head and then planted it upon the battery.
Captain Zuten fell in the subsequent assault upon Chapultepec.
Colonel Le Noir entered the city of
Mexico with the victorious army, but on the subsequent
day, being engaged in a street skirmish with the leperos,
or liberated convicts, he fell mortally wounded by
a copper bullet, and he was now dying by inches at
his quarters near the Grand Cathedral.
It was on the evening of the 20th
of September, six days from the triumphant entry of
General Scott into the capital, that Major Greyson
was seated at supper at his quarters, with some of
his brother officers, when an orderly entered and
handed a note to Herbert, which proved to be a communication
from the surgeon of their regiment, begging him to
repair without delay to the quarters of Colonel Le
Noir, who, being in extremity, desired to see him.
Major Greyson immediately excused
himself to his company, and repaired to the quarters
of the dying man.
He found Colonel Le Noir stretched
upon his bed in a state of extreme exhaustion and
attended by the surgeon and chaplain of his regiment.
As Herbert advanced to the side of
his bed, Le Noir stretched out his pale hand and said:
“You bear no grudge against a dying man, Greyson?”
“Certainly not,” said
Herbert, “especially when he proposes doing the
right thing, as I judge you do, from the fact of your
sending for me.”
“Yes, I do; I do!” replied
Le Noir, pressing the hand that Herbert’s kindness
of heart could not withhold.
Le Noir then beckoned the minister
to hand him two sealed packets, which he took and
laid upon the bed before him.
Then taking up the larger of the two
packets, he placed it in the hands of Herbert Greyson,
saying:
“There, Greyson, I wish you
to hand that to your friend, young Rocke, who has
received his colors, I understand?”
“Yes, he has now the rank of ensign.”
“Then give this parcel into
the hands of Ensign Rocke, with the request, that
being freely yielded up, they may not be used in any
manner to harass the last hours of a dying man.”
“I promise, on the part of my
noble young friend, that they shall not be so used,”
said Herbert, as he took possession of the parcel.
Le Noir then took up the second packet,
which was much smaller, but much more firmly secured,
than the first, being in an envelope of parchment,
sealed with three great seals.
Le Noir held it in his hand for a
moment, gazing from the surgeon to the chaplain, and
thence down upon the mysterious packet, while spasms
of pain convulsed his countenance. At length he
spoke:
“This second packet, Greyson,
contains a well, I may as well call it a
narrative. I confide it to your care upon these
conditions that it shall not be opened
until after my death and funeral, and that, when it
has served its purpose of restitution, it may be, as
far as possible, forgotten. Will you promise
me this?”
“On my honor, yes,” responded
the young man, as he received the second parcel.
“This is all I have to say,
except this that you seemed to me, upon
every account, the most proper person to whom I could
confide this trust. I thank you for accepting
it, and I believe that I may safely promise that you
will find the contents of the smaller packet of great
importance and advantage to yourself and those dear
to you.”
Herbert bowed in silence.
“That is all, good-by.
I wish now to be alone with our chaplain,” said
Colonel Le Noir, extending his hand.
Herbert pressed that wasted hand;
silently sent up a prayer for the dying wrong-doer,
bowed gravely and withdrew.
It was almost eight o’clock,
and Herbert thought that he would scarcely have time
to find Traverse before the drum should beat to quarters.
He was more fortunate than he had
anticipated, for he had scarcely turned the Grand
Cathedral when he came full upon the young ensign.
“Ah! Traverse, I am very
glad to meet you! I was just going to look for
you. Come immediately to my rooms, for I have
a very important communication to make to you.
Colonel Le Noir is supposed to be dying. He has
given me a parcel to be handed to you, which I shrewdly
suspect to contain your intercepted correspondence
for the last two years,” said Herbert.
Traverse started and gazed upon his
friend in amazement, and was about to express his
astonishment, when Herbert, seeing others approach,
drew the arm of his friend within his own, and they
hurried silently on toward Major Greyson’s quarters.
They had scarcely got in and closed
the door and stricken a light before Traverse exclaimed
impatiently:
“Give it me!” and almost
snatched the parcel from Herbert’s hands.
“Whist! don’t be impatient!
I dare say it is all stale news!” said Herbert,
as he yielded up the prize.
They sat down together on each side
of a little stand supporting a light.
Herbert watched with sympathetic interest
while Traverse tore open the envelope and examined
its contents.
They were, as Herbert had anticipated,
letters from the mother and the betrothed of Traverse letters
that had arrived and been intercepted, from time to
time, for the preceding two years.
There were blanks, also, directed
in a hand strange to Traverse, but familiar to Herbert
as that of Old Hurricane, and those blanks inclosed
drafts upon a New Orleans bank, payable to the order
of Traverse Rocke.
Traverse pushed all these latter aside
with scarcely a glance and not a word of inquiry,
and began eagerly to examine the long-desired, long-withheld
letters from the dear ones at home.
His cheek flamed to see that every
seal was broken, and the fresh aroma of every heart-breathed
word inhaled by others, before they reached himself.
“Look here, Herbert! look here!
Is not this insufferable? Every fond word of
my mother, every delicate and sacred expression of of
regard from Clara, all read by the profane eyes of
that man!”
“That man is on his deathbed,
Traverse, and you must forgive him! He has restored
your letters.”
“Yes, after their sacred privacy has been profaned!
Oh!”
Traverse handed his mother’s
letters over to Herbert, that his foster brother might
read them, but Clara’s “sacred epistles”
were kept to himself.
“What are you laughing at?”
inquired Traverse, looking up from his page, and detecting
Herbert with a smile upon his face.
“I am thinking that you are
not as generous as you were some few years since,
when you would have given me Clara herself; for now
you will not even let me have a glimpse of her letters!”
“Have they not been already
sufficiently published?” said Traverse, with
an almost girlish smile and blush.
When those cherished letters were
all read and put away, Traverse stooped down and “fished
up” from amidst envelopes, strings and waste
paper another set of letters which proved to be the
blanks inclosing the checks, of various dates, which
Herbert recognized as coming anonymously from Old
Hurricane.
“What in the world is the meaning
of all this, Herbert? Have I a nabob uncle turned
up anywhere, do you think? Look here! a
hundred dollars and a fifty, and another all
drafts upon the Planters’ Bank, New Orleans,
drawn in my favor and signed by Largent & Dor, bankers! I,
that haven’t had five dollars at a time to call
my own for the last two years! Here, Herbert,
give me a good, sharp pinch to wake me up! I may
be sleeping on my post again?” said Traverse
in perplexity.
“You are not sleeping, Traverse!”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly,” replied Herbert, laughing.
“Well, then, do you think that
crack upon the crown of my head that I got upon Chapultepec
has not injured my intellect?”
“Not in the slightest degree!”
said Herbert, still laughing at his friend’s
perplexity.
“Then I am the hero of a fairy
tale, that is all a fairy tale in which
waste paper is changed into bank notes and private
soldiers prince palatines! Look here!”
cried Traverse, desperately, thrusting the bank checks
under the nose of his friend, “do you see those
things and know what they are, and will you tell me
that everything in this castle don’t go by enchantment?”
“Yes, I see what they are, and
it seems to me perfectly natural that you should have
them!”
“Humph!” said Traverse,
looking at Herbert with an expression that seemed
to say that he thought the wits of his friend deranged.
“Traverse,” said Major
Greyson, “did it never occur to you that you
must have other relatives in the world besides your
mother? Well, I suspect that those checks were
sent by some relative of yours or your mother’s,
who just begins to remember that he has been neglecting
you.”
“Herbert, do you know this?”
inquired Traverse, anxiously.
“No, I do not know it; I only
suspect this to be the case,” said Herbert,
evasively. “But what is that which you are
forgetting?”
“Oh! this yes, I
had forgotten it. Let us see what it is!”
said Traverse, examining a paper that had rested unobserved
upon the stand.
“This is an order for my discharge,
signed by the Secretary of War, and dated ha ha ha two
years ago! Here I have been serving two years
illegally, and if I had been convicted of neglect of
duty in sleeping on my post, I should have been shot
unlawfully, as that man, when he prosecuted me, knew
perfectly well!” exclaimed Traverse.
“That man, as I said before,
lies upon his deathbed! Remember, nothing against
him! But that order for a discharge! now that
you are in the way of promotion and the war is over,
will you take advantage of it?”
“Decidedly, yes! for though
I am said to have acquitted myself passably well at
Chapultepec ”
“Gloriously, Traverse! You won your colors
gloriously!”
“Yet for all that my true mission
is not to break men’s bones, but to set them
when broken. Not to take men’s lives, but
to save them when endangered! So to-morrow morning,
please Providence, I shall present this order to General
Butler and apply for my discharge.”
“And you will set out immediately for home?”
The face of Traverse suddenly changed.
“I should like to do so!
Oh, how I should like to see my dear mother and Clara,
if only for a day! but I must not indulge the longing
of my heart. I must not go home until I can do
so with honor!”
“And can you not do so now?
You, who triumphed over all your personal enemies
and who won your colors at Chapultepec?”
“No, for all this was in my
legitimate profession! Nor will I present myself
at home until, by the blessing of the Lord, I have
done what I set out to do, and established myself
in a good practice. And so, by the help of heaven,
I hope within one week to be on my way to New Orleans
to try my fortune in that city.”
“To New Orleans! And a
new malignant fever of some horrible, unknown type,
raging there!” exclaimed Herbert.
“So much the more need of a
physician! Herbert, I am not the least uneasy
on the subject of infection! I have a theory for
its annihilation.”
“I never saw a clever young
professional man without a theory!” laughed
Herbert.
The drum was now heard beating the
tattoo, and the friends separated with hearts full
of revived hope.
The next morning Traverse presented
the order of the Secretary to the Commander-in-Chief
and received his discharge.
And then, after writing long, loving
and hopeful letters to his mother and his betrothed,
and entreating the former to try to find out who was
the secret benefactor who had sent him such timely
aid, Traverse took leave of his friends, and set out
for the Southern Queen of Cities, once more to seek
his fortune.
Meantime the United States army continued
to occupy the City of Mexico, through the whole of
the autumn and winter.
General Butler, who temporarily succeeded
the illustrious Scott in the chief command, very wisely
arranged the terms of an armistice with the enemy
that was intended to last two months from the beginning
of February, but which happily lasted until the conclusion
of the treaty of peace between the two countries.
Colonel Le Noir had not been destined
soon to die; his wound, an inward canker from a copper
bullet, that the surgeon had at length succeeded in
extracting, took the form of a chronic fester disease.
Since the night upon which he had been so extremely
ill to be supposed dying, and yet had rallied, the
doctors felt no apprehensions of his speedy death,
though they gave no hopes of his final recovery.
Under these circumstances there were
hours in which Le Noir bitterly regretted his precipitation
in permitting those important documents to go out
of his own hands. And he frequently sent for Herbert
Greyson in private to require assurances that he would
not open the packet confided to him before the occurrence
of the event specified.
And Herbert always soothed the sufferer
by reiterating his promise that so long as Colonel
Le Noir should survive the seals of that packet should
not be broken.
Beyond the suspicion that the parcel
contained an important confession, Herbert Greyson
was entirely ignorant of its contents.
But the life of Gabriel Le Noir was
prolonged beyond all human calculus of probabilities.
He was spared to experience a more
effectual repentance than that spurious one into which
he had been frightened by the seeming rapid approach
of death. And after seven months of lingering
illness and gradual decline, during the latter portions
of which he was comforted by the society of his only
son, who had come at his summons to visit him, in
May, 1848, Gabriel Le Noir expired a sincere penitent,
reconciled to God and man.
And soon afterward, in the month of
May, the treaty of peace having been ratified by the
Mexican Congress at Queretaro, the American army evacuated
the city and territory of Mexico.
And our brave soldiers, their “brows
crowned with victorious wreaths,” set out upon
their return to home and friends.