driver, tutor, schoolmaster, and even for a very brief and unappreciated time a strolling player. Towards 1843, under the signature of the "Poor Scholar," he contributed poetry to The Pittsburgh Chronicle, a startling contrast to his previous pursuits, and shortly afterwards he settled down as a Philadelphian littérateur, writing for Godey's Magazine a poem entitled "La Cubana." At this time he composed "Love's Martyr," a tragical play, betokening great promise. While established in Philadelphia he enjoyed the acquaintance of the gifted Edgar Allan Poe and his beautiful but fragile wife, and in after years, in defending his memory, gave some curious details of the unfortunate poet's household. Mayne Reid's unique experiences, his knowledge of men, and of the world, stood him in good stead in the early portion of his literary career, as in the later. In 1846 he acted as correspondent of The New York Herald, and was on the staff of Wilkes' Spirit of the Times. Having added poet, dramatist, and journalist to the list of his numerous occupations, he was yet to distinguish himself in another profession.
In 1846, the war between the United States and Mexico broke out. Mayne Reid, laying down the pen and taking up the sword, sought and obtained a lieutenant's commission in the First New York Volunteers, under the command of Colonel Ward R. Burnett, and in the December of the same year sailed for the scene of action.
The first battle in which Mayne Reid took a prominent part, was that of Monterey, a desperate and sanguinary contest. It is not often that warriors celebrate the events of a campaign in which they have taken part in verse, but some time after, Mayne Reid sent, from the seat of war, a remarkable poem to Godey's Magazine, entitled "Monterey," breathing the true martial spirit, of which the following are the opening lines:—
"We were not many—we who stood
Before the iron sleet that day—
Yet many a gallant spirit would
Give half his years, if he but could
Have been with us at Monterey."
Capt. Mayne Reid. Age 46.
Mayne Reid greatly distinguished himself at the capture of Vera Cruz, at the battle of Cerro Gordo, at Cherubusco (where he headed the last infantry charge), and at the siege of Chapultepec, where, on the testimony of his brother officers, he performed the bravest and most brilliant achievement of the campaign, leading, under great difficulties, and opposed by unusual obstacles, "a forlorn hope" up a nearly perpendicular height. He was the first to scale the castle walls, and would have been first in Chapultepec, but a bullet came tearing through his thigh, and he fell wounded into the ditch. Two despatches of equal fallaciousness reached his relatives within a short time of each other, one stating he was dead, and the other that not only was he alive, but united to "the richest heiress in the valley of Mexico." Though not killed, Mayne Reid was very dangerously injured, and his leg in after years was a recurring trouble to him. The splendid service he had rendered the storming party, for which he had volunteered, was mentioned in the despatches of no less than four generals and several other officers, and rewarded by promotion. The rumour of his death, however, was so strong, that at a public banquet in Ohio, in celebration of the capture of Mexico, Mayne Reid's memory was toasted, and a dirge in his honour by a young poetess recited, of which the following is a verse:—
"Gone—gone—gone,
Gone to his dreamless sleep;
