obe's surface, can be found a band, of like numbers, to
equal them in strength, daring, and warlike intelligence. Many of them
have spent half a life in the sharpening practice of border warfare--
Indian or Mexican--and from these the others have learnt. Some have
been gentlemen upon whom fortune has frowned; a few have been
desperadoes within the pale of civilised life; and a smaller few,
perhaps, _outlaws_ beyond it--bad materials wherewith to _colonise_; not
so bad, if you go but to _conquer_.

Rude as is the _coup d'oeil_ of the corps, I am proud to say that a high
sentiment of honour pervades it--higher than will be found in the picked
_corps de garde_ of an emperor. True, they appear rough and reckless--
terrible, I might say; for most of them--with their long beards and
hair, dust-begrimed faces, slouched hats, and odd habiliments, belted as
they are with knife, pistol, powder-horn, and pouch--present such an
aspect.

But you would wrong them to take them as they look. Few among them are
the pure bandits whose aim is plunder. Many a noble heart beats beneath
a rude exterior--many a one truly humane. There are hearts in that band
that throb under the influence of patriotism; some are guided by a still
nobler impulse, a desire to extend the area of freedom: others, it is
true, yearn but for revenge. These last are chiefly Texans, who mourn a
friend or brother slain by Mexican treachery. They have not forgotten
the cowardly assassination of Goliad; they remember the red butchery of
the Alamo.

Perhaps I alone, of all the band, have no motive for being here; if one,
'tis slight--scarce so noble as vengeance. Mere chance, the love of
excitement and adventure, perhaps some weak fondness for power and fame,
are all the excuses I can urge for taking a hand in this affair. A poor
adventurer--without friends, without home, without country, for my
native land is no more a nation--my heart is not cheered by a single
throb of patriotism. I have no private wrong to redress, no public
cause, no country for which to combat.

During intervals of inaction, these thoughts recur to me, and give me
pain.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The men have picketed their horses in the church enclosure; some are
tied to trees, and others to the reja-bars of the windows: like their
riders, a motley group, various in size, colour, and race. The strong
high-mettled steed of Kentucky a