"By this time the hospitals of the city, the churches and public
buildings were filled with the wounded and dying, borne there on
stretchers made often of splintered and shattered doors. Nearly a
hundred men were taken into the San Francisco convent alone." Yet
with all this the lust for blood was not quenched. It could still be
written of the fourth day:
"At about half-past two, a sharp attack was made by the Government
troops on the Plaza Parque, and a fearful fire was kept up. Hundreds
and hundreds fell on both sides, but the Government troops were
finally repulsed. People standing at the corners of the streets
cheering for the Revolutionists were fired on and many were killed.
Bodies of Government troops were stationed at the corners of the
streets leading to the Plaza, Large bales of hay had been heaped up
to protect them from the deadly fire of the Revolutionists.
"It was at times difficult to remember that heavy slaughter was going
on around. In many parts of the city people were chatting, joking and
laughing at their doors. The attitude of the foreign population was
more serious; they seemed to foresee the heavy responsibilities of
the position and to accurately forecast the result of the
insurrection.
"The bulletins of the various newspapers during the revolution were
purchased by the thousand and perused with the utmost avidity; fancy
prices were often paid for them. The Sunday edition of The Standard
was sold by enterprising newsboys in the suburbs as high as $3.00 per
copy, whilst fifty cents was the regulation price for a momentary
peep at our first column."
Towards the close of that memorable 29th of July the hail of bullets
ceased, but the insurgent fleet still kept up its destructive
bombardment of the Government houses for four hours.
The Revolutionists were defeated, or, as was seriously affirmed, had
been sold for the sum of one million Argentine dollars.
"Estamos vendidos!" "Estamos vendidos!" (We are sold! We are sold!)
was heard on every hand. Because of this surrender officers broke
their swords and men threw away their rifles as they wept with rage.
A sergeant exclaimed: "And for this they called us out - to surrender
without a struggle! Cowards! Poltroons!" And then with a stern glance
around he placed his rifle to his breast and shot himself through the
heart. After the cessation of hostilities both sides collected their
dead, and the wounded were placed under the care of surgeons, civil
as well as military.
Notwithstanding the fact that the insurgents were said to be
defeated, the President, Dr. Celman, fled from the city, and the
amusing spectacle was seen of men and youths patrolling the streets
wearing cards in their hats which read: "Ya se fue el burro" (At
last the donkey has gone). A more serious sight, however, was when
the effigy of the fleeing President was crucified.
