The legend was the more easily believed because it embraced and was
founded upon so much truth. Germans lay dead, the German wounded groaned
in their cots; and the cartridges by which they fell had been sold by an
American and brought into the country in a British bottom. Had the
transaction been entirely mercenary, it would already have been hard to
swallow; but it was notoriously not so. British and Americans were
notoriously the partisans of Mataafa. They rejoiced in the result of
Fangalii, and so far from seeking to conceal their rejoicing, paraded and
displayed it. Calumny ran high. Before the dead were buried, while the
wounded yet lay in pain and fever, cowardly accusations of cowardice were
levelled at the German blue-jackets. It was said they had broken and run
before their enemies, and that they had huddled helpless like sheep in
the plantation house. Small wonder if they had; small wonder had they
been utterly destroyed. But the fact was heroically otherwise; and these
dastard calumnies cut to the blood. They are not forgotten; perhaps they
will never be forgiven.
In the meanwhile, events were pressing towards a still more trenchant
opposition. On the 20th, the three consuls met and parted without
agreement, Knappe announcing that he had lost men and must take the
matter in his own hands to avenge their death.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202