As early as half-past eight on the following morning--August 11--our scouts
entered the city of Mayaguez, some three or four miles distant from our
camp of the night before. About an hour later Captain Macomb marched his
troop through the streets, accompanied by the brigade headquarters staff.
Many prominent citizens greeted General Schwan at the Casa del Rey, and
declared themselves subject to his orders.

At eleven o'clock the entire brigade entered Mayaguez, with the general
riding at its head, colors flying, and band playing.

We had been through this triumphal entry business several times before; but
I, for one, never grew tired of it. It was for all the world like being in
the procession of a great circus. The sidewalks, balconies, windows, and
roof-tops were packed with wide-eyed humanity, of all ages and conditions,
hues, sizes, and degrees of beauty. At every street corner, and in every
square, great crowds of the lower classes rent the air with vivas and
bravos, regulating their enthusiasm by the size of the guns that swung past
them. It is easy enough for some grades of mankind to cheer with frenzy the
appearance of a victor, no matter who he be; and a Chinese host would
have been received with just as much acclaim as we were, had they come as
conquering heroes. The houses of the aristocrats sent us no demonstration
of feeling one way or the other, with a single startling and highly
dramatic exception. We had turned from the Calle Mirasol into the Calle
Candalaria, and the head of the column had almost reached the Plaza
Principal. The band had just crashed into "The Stars and Stripes Forever."
Suddenly the crowd on an upper balcony of a stately house to the left was
seen to sway violently; and a moment later a beautiful young girl, tears
streaming from her eyes, leant far out over the rail, and waved a crudely
made Old Glory over the ragged ranks below. For a breath we were struck