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 dumb by this apparition.  Then every hat came off; and for the first time that day we split the heavens with a cheer,—­lustily and long.  The outbreak was infectious, and from every side the clamor swelled and burst till it seemed as if the universe had vaulted into mad tumult at the touch of a girl’s hand.  Her name was Catalina Palmer, and she has since married an American lieutenant.  But that, as Kipling would say, is another story.

[Illustration:  The Officers of the Alphonso XIII Regiment of Cazadores, taken a few days before the Fight with the American Troops at Hormigueros.]

At one corner a richly dressed old woman threw handful after handful of small silver coins among us.  In several places we trod upon great quantities of flowers thrown in our path by peasant girls.  The flags of England, Germany, France, and Italy, were everywhere to be seen.  The quaintly uniformed corps of firemen turned out in splendor to do us honor, and we saluted with grave dignity the immense statue of Columbus standing in the centre of the town.  By those who entered Mayaguez that day none of these things will ever be forgotten.