"My life," he said, "is of little consequence, provided the Congress be saved. My race was run from the moment that I saw an Independent Government established."
His orders were obeyed, and Morelos remained with about fifty men, most of whom abandoned him when the firing became hot. He succeeded, however, in gaining time, which was his great object, nor did the Royalists venture to advance upon him, until only one man was left by his side. He was then taken prisoner, for he had sought death in vain during the action. There can be little doubt that his late reverses had inspired him with a disgust for life, and that he wished to end his days by a proof of devotion to his country worthy of the most brilliant part of his former career.
Morelos was treated with the greatest brutality by the Spanish soldiers into whose hands he first fell. They stripped him, and conducted him, loaded with chains, to Tĕsmălācă. But Concha, (to his honour be it said,) on his prisoner being presented to him, received him with all the marks of respect due to a fallen enemy, and treated him with unwonted humanity and attention. He was transferred, with as little delay as possible, to the capital, and the whole population of Mexico flocked out to San Agustin de las Cuevas, to see, (and some to insult) the man, whose name had so long been their terror. But Morelos, both on his way to prison, and while in confinement, is said to have shown
