On the gunboat the
gold-braided youth had but to raise his hand, and Walker again
would be a free man. But the gold-braided one would render this
service only on the condition that Walker would appeal to him as
an American; it was not enough that Walker was a human being.
The condition Walker could not grant.
"The President of Nicaragua," he said, "is a citizen of Nicaragua."
They led him out at sunrise to a level piece of sand along the
beach, and as the priest held the crucifix in front of him he spoke
to his executioners in Spanish, simply and gravely: "I die a Roman
Catholic. In making war upon you at the invitation of the people of
Ruatan I was wrong. Of your people I ask pardon. I accept my
punishment with resignation. I would like to think my death will
be for the good of society."
From a distance of twenty feet three soldiers fired at him, but,
although each shot took effect, Walker was not dead. So, a
sergeant stooped, and with a pistol killed the man who would have
made him one of an empire of slaves.
Had Walker lived four years longer to exhibit upon the great board
of the Civil War his ability as a general, he would, I believe, to-day
be ranked as one of America's greatest fighting men.
And because the people of his own day destroyed him is no reason
that we should withhold from this American, the greatest of all
filibusters, the recognition of his genius.
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