It is not to be supposed that in a small village of about one hundred government shepherds, several hundred famished men could be supplied with all the necessaries and superfluities of life.  The Texans accuse the Mexicans of having starved them in Anton Chico, forgetting that every Texan had the same ration of provisions as the Mexican soldier.

Of course the Texans now attempted to fall back upon the original falsehood, that they were a trading expedition, and had been destroyed and plundered by the Indians; but, unfortunately, the assault upon the sheep and the cowardly massacre of the shepherds were not to be got over.  As Governor Armigo very justly observed to them, if they were traders, they had committed murder; if they were not traders, they were prisoners of war.

After a painful journey of four months, the prisoners arrived in the old capital of Mexico, where the few strangers who had been induced to join the expedition, in ignorance of its destination, were immediately restored to liberty; the rest were sent, some to the mines, to dig for the metal they were so anxious to obtain, and some were passed over to the police of the city, to be employed in the cleaning of the streets.

Many American newspapers have filled their columns with all manner of histories relative to this expedition; catalogues of the cruelties practised by the Mexicans have been given, and the sympathizing American public have been called upon to relieve the unfortunate men who had escaped.  I will only give one instance of misrepresentation in the New Orleans Picayune, and put in juxta-position the real truth.  It will be quite sufficient.  Mr. Kendal says:—­

“As the sun was about setting, those of us who were in front were startled by the report of two guns, following each other in quick succession.  We turned to ascertain the cause, and soon found that a poor, unfortunate man, named Golpin, a merchant, and who had started upon the expedition with a small amount of goods, had been shot by the rear-guard, for no other reason than that he was too sick and weak to keep up.  He had made a bargain with one of the guard to ride his mule a short distance, for which he was to pay him his only shirt!  While in the act of taking it off, Salazar (the commanding officer) ordered a soldier to shoot him.  The first ball only wounded the wretched man, but the second killed him instantly, and he fell with his shirt still about his face.  Golpin was a citizen of the United States, and reached Texas a short time before the expedition.  He was a harmless, inoffensive man, of most delicate constitution, and, during a greater part of the time we were upon the road, was obliged to ride in one of the waggons.”

This story is, of course, very pathetic; but here we have a few lines taken from the Bee, a New Orleans newspaper:—­