This was now the third repulse we had sustained within a few days, with an aggregate loss, perhaps, counting wounded, (who, as I have said, were more regretted than the dead,) not very far under two hundred men,—­and it became apparent that the filibuster day was over, unless General Walker could find some stratagem in his head, or some better mode of fighting than this confident rushing upon an overwhelming enemy, under strong cover, and grown bold with success.  The prospect, truly, began to look black enough.  The men had lost confidence in themselves and in their officers, no longer despised the enemy, and dreaded the barricades at San Jorge so deeply that they would be led against them no more.  Those who intended to desert avoided every exposure to danger, and feigned sickness whenever detailed for service.  One of the rifle regiments had grown mutinous, upon some quarrel with its officers, and refused to do duty of any kind, and it was absurd to attempt to compel it by aid of the others.  The natives, who had charge of the beef cattle, turned them all out of the corral, and ran away in the night, leaving the army without meat, and the commissary force, some forty horsemen, to seek for prey wherever it was to be found.  And then there were ill reports heard about the party on the Rio San Juan, and its success began to be doubted.  But worse than all was the fast-spreading spirit of desertion, which all saw would prove ruinous of itself, unless shortly stopped in some way.

At this juncture it might have been worth while for General Walker to form a corps for one attack of all the men in his army who felt an earnest interest in driving the enemy out, and were willing to fight desperately for the sake of it.  There were scores of stout men acting as lieutenants, captains, majors, etc., of slight performance in those capacities, but who, had they been formed into companies, and asked to fight now one night, at this desperate juncture, for the haciendas General Walker had promised them, would have done willing, perhaps, and excellent service.  To these might be added all those among the ranks to whom, from any cause, desertion or expulsion from Nicaragua was disagreeable,—­those who distrusted the Costa-Rican promises, or feared disgrace at home, or had sick or wounded friends at Rivas, or were desperate, broken men without other home, or with what other peculiar motives there might be.  With this force gathered to themselves by call for volunteers, allowed to choose their own officers, furnished with Colt’s revolvers, or bayonets, or both, and led in advance, as a forlorn hope, with ladders to scale the barricades by,—­it is likely the enemy might have been driven out, and the cause of Regeneration set up once more.  So, at least, it was thought by some.  And, indeed, it must have been extremely discouraging for one of better will to be fearful at every step that his comrades would dart aside into the bushes and leave him unsupported; it must have served to cripple the efforts of all the well-intentioned in the army, and should have been remedied.  However, no call for volunteers was ventured by General Walker,—­he, probably, thinking it too unreasonable to ask his men to do anything for him unforced.