At Mesilla, the party disbanded, most of them taking the stage for San Antonio, and, on by land, to New Orleans. Ridley says:
There was a stage from Mesilla to San Antonio, and some of our party availed themselves of it at once. The general, after nearly two weeks unavoidable delay, proceeded by the same conveyance, from El Paso. He did this very reluctantly, and would have remained with us, until the last of the party could start for San Antonio, but for our urging upon him the necessity of getting to Richmond as fast as possible. In his entire forgetfulness of self, lie was ever ready to sacrifice himself and his own interests and desires for others.Among the little incidents retained in the memory of his companions on this journey, Ridley relates this:
At El Paso, a small party were collected, among whom were the general and Major Armistead. The usual topic was being discussed — the Yankees and the war. Some one made the remark, “But they won't stand steel.” The general, who had been a quiet listener, said: “Gentlemen, I think you are mistaken. We are a proud people. Manners and customs in the different sections make about the only difference that really exists. If we are to be successful, what we have to do must be done quickly. The longer we have them to fight, the more difficult they will be to defeat.” His words were prophetic. They made a great impression on me at the time, as much, perhaps, from his manner of saying them as from the words themselves.Colonel Hardcastle writes:
During our trip, subjected as we were to the oppressive tropical heat, scanty rations for man and beast, and scarcity of water-at one time going seventy miles without any for our stock, and supplying ourselves from canteens and kegs --I could not but remark the patience and endurance of our general, who at all times bore himself with cheerfulness and dignity, and set us an example of fortitude and self-denial. After our seventy miles' ride without water, when we reached the wells entirely spent and dry, we found them foul and noxious with dead rats. We set to work to draw out and clean them; and, after we had finished, the first cup was handed to the general. He drank, and remarked, “This water tastes like the White Sulphur Springs in Virginia.” After that, no man could decline to taste of the waters, and we gladly cooled our parched throats. On a certain night, wet and stormy, as I sat by the camp-fire of the general, I expressed my dread of water, having nothing but blankets to sleep upon.
