The War with Mexico, Volume 1 (of 2) (part 3 of 5)

The War with Mexico, Volume 1 (of 2) (part 3 of 5)

Some of the victors then joined the rest of General Smith's command, which could be seen winding through a gorge toward the other fort. Those who did not, quickly remounted the second piece, which the Mexicans had upset in trying to drag it away, and at the first shot, luckily knocking the El Soldado gun out of position, sent the garrison flying. At the double-quick the attacking column reached that position an instant later, and brave Captain Gillespie, followed by other brave men, despising the grape from Independence Hill that shrieked above their heads, clambered over the parapet. The Mexican piece, quickly righted, saluted the fugitives and then offered its compliments to the Palace works. The other captured piece was then brought down to El Soldado; and Miles's command, moving still farther east along the ridge with one of the guns, took a third fortification; and thus by about the middle of the afternoon, at a trifling cost, we had three forts, intended to protect the rear and flank of Monterey, fighting for us.[12.8]

But a still harder task now confronted the Americans. Shortly before nightfall three companies of the Artillery Battalion, three of the Eighth Infantry and some two hundred Texas riflemen--in all about five hundred--accompanied by Captain Sanders, Lieutenant Meade and a Mexican guide and commanded by Childs, were sent forward to the skirt of Independence Hill. The peak before them was almost or quite as high as the summit of Federation Ridge; and in addition to the redoubt, guns and garrison on the top, a stronger position, more guns and a larger force were just below at the Palace. The Mexican generals regarded the point as unassailable.[12.9]

The night was tempestuous. The men were tired out. Few had eaten for thirty-six hours--none since breakfast. The rain fell in torrents, and they had not even blankets. Small rivers flowed down the slope. Sometimes heavy stones, loosened by the water, rolled upon them. The darkness was absolute. Most of them sat up, holding their firearms, covering the locks, and dozing when they could. At three o'clock the sleepers were roughly shaken, and a hoarse whisper, "Fall in," passed along. The storm was still raging. There was a chill in the wet air. Muscles were stiff. Teeth actually rattled. Strict orders to make no noise under any circumstances were circulated. Then came another whisper, "Forward!" and in two columns--one under Childs and the other under Captain Vinton--the almost vertical climb began.[12.9]

Feet were placed cautiously but firmly. Despite the thorns, bushes had to be seized for support. Sometimes the men crawled. Above all, the gun-locks were to be kept dry. Now and then a stone, pried out by the rain, would go clattering down; and with beating hearts, expecting to be challenged, the men would pause. If discovered, they could have been annihilated with rocks. But the storm drowned all the noise except its own, and kept the Mexicans under cover. Slowly but steadily the ragged line mounted. The night began to look grayish. The outline of the summit could be made out.[12.9]

Suddenly burst forth a blaze and a roar. It came from a picket-guard about a hundred yards down, that had been sheltering themselves among some rocks. The hasty fire was ineffective, except that some of the Americans were burned. Not a musket answered it--only a yell and a rush. Finally, sixty feet or so from the top it was time to fire, and the musket and rifle spoke. Real fighting began now, give and take; and the Mexicans had the advantage of position. But there were only about fifty or sixty of them. The line closed in. There was a fierce grapple; the Mexicans broke, and as the rising sun glimmered faintly through the clouds, the Stars and Stripes were unfurled. Then the victors cheered and cheered. Cheers came up from their comrades in the valley. Taylor's men, who had watched the double line of fire and smoke go higher and higher till it crowned the top and ceased, cheered and threw their caps into the air; and the echoing mountain seemed to cheer back.[12.9]

But the work was not yet done. Indeed the Americans only had the bull by the horns. Too exhausted to pursue effectively at once, they had to let the Mexicans escape. Seeing how the fight would end, some of the garrison had removed the guns of the redoubt--accidentally throwing one of them down the hill; but the saved piece and two 6-pounders now opened fire on our men, and a counter-attack from the Palace garrison was to be expected. That garrison probably numbered two hundred and fifty and perhaps more. Some fifty dismounted dragoons reinforced it now; and probably not less than two hundred and fifty horse occupied the slope below.[12.9]

But Worth had no intention of losing his prize. Three companies of the Seventh Infantry were already moving down Federation Ridge, and they took post near enough the Palace to menace any troops going from that point against the summit, cheering loudly to attract attention. The Fifth and Blanchard's Company reinforced Childs; and about noon "with infinite difficulty," as Worth said, a 12-pound howitzer, taken apart, was dragged up with straps. As the Palace had no roof and the windows were poorly barricaded, the interior could be searched with shrapnel. The Mexicans reciprocated, and desultory fighting continued all the morning. In the afternoon Mexican reinforcements were seen in the distance, and a prompt, decisive stroke appeared to be necessary. One body of Americans therefore went about halfway to the Palace, and concealed themselves among some rocks and bushes in a small ravine, while another were placed out of sight on the slope. Then the howitzer opened, and a force of skirmishers advanced in full view.[12.9]

Ampudia's policy was a strict defensive, and Lieutenant Colonel Berra, who commanded at this position, had been forbidden to take the aggressive. But the howitzer had made itself extremely disagreeable; his artillery had become disabled; his only chance lay in charging; and this appeared to be the time. Foot and horse, the Mexicans therefore sallied out, and gallantly they moved up the ridge, closing their ranks when the howitzer opened them. Then the signal was given, and the men in ambush, springing up like a flight of blackbirds, fired. The enemy broke and ran; many of them did not stop till they reached the city; and the massive gate of the Palace was closed. The howitzer soon broke the gate, however, and the Americans poured in. For a time the struggle was fierce yet indecisive; but suddenly the cry was heard, "Throw yourselves flat!" and instantly over the prostrate Americans the howitzer belched a double charge of canister. This was enough; and soon the Mexicans, harassed with grape by Duncan and Mackall, who arrived now at a gallop, by the fire of a piece captured at La Libertad and by that of El Soldado, were fleeing into the city, spreading consternation on every hand. It was now about four o'clock.[12.9]

[AT THE EASTERN GATES]

Leaving Worth and his gallant men thus in full possession of the western gate of Monterey, we will now trace Taylor's operations at the opposite end of the town. Sunday afternoon, observing the Mexican reinforcements hastening to the summit of Independence Hill and fearing Worth might be overpowered, he displayed most of his troops before the city until dark as a menace. During the night his 10-inch mortar and two 24-pound howitzers were planted about seven eighths of a mile from the citadel, near the forward edge of a depression which screened them from the enemy, and at seven o'clock the next morning these pieces fired for twenty minutes, doubtless encouraging rather than alarming the enemy by their ineffective work.[12.10]

At the same time, to divert attention from Worth, as a note from that officer had suggested, all the available infantry were drawn out before the citadel as if to assault it. The First Division (regulars) stood at the left of this line; Quitman's brigade--the Tennesseeans under Campbell and the Mississippi riflemen under Davis--came next it, and Hamer with the Ohio regiment occupied the extreme right. Meanwhile the work of reconnoitring continued. Believing that he would meet with no serious resistance at Monterey, Taylor had apparently felt little or no anxiety to ascertain how the town had been fortified; but now he may have realized that such information was desirable.[12.10]

In a general sense we are already aware what defences had been prepared in this quarter--particularly the barricaded streets and the stone houses turned into forts; but the situation must now be investigated more closely. West of the grand plaza and toward the northern edge of the city there was a large spring. The outlet of this flowed toward the east, widened into a pond, then contracted into a stream, passed under Purísima bridge--a heavy structure of stone by which the Marín road entered the city proper--veered a little toward the right, and finally left the town at its northeastern corner. On the inner side of this watercourse below Purísima bridge there were two simple redans capable of holding fifty or seventy men each; and some distance farther down, on the top of a rather steep slope, stood a strong earthwork named El Rincón del Diablo (The Devil's Corner), commonly known by the Americans as El Diablo, which had two or three guns, and could accommodate a garrison of one hundred and fifty or two hundred.[12.10]

On the outer side of the watercourse an irregular but strong fortification (tête de pont), armed with a 12-pounder, defended Purísima bridge. East and northeast of this lay a confused suburban district occupied in part with streets, lanes, houses and huts, and in part with orchards, gardens and yards enclosed with high stone walls. Near the edge of it all, some four hundred yards in front of El Diablo, was the most advanced Mexican position. This, occupied by about two hundred men, consisted of a stone tannery building, often spoken of by the Americans as a distillery, the flat roof of which, protected with sand-bags in addition to the parapet, was held by a competent garrison, and of an earthwork in front of it called the Tenería (Tannery) redoubt, which, after having been erected and demolished, was rebuilt with desperate exertions during Sunday night.[12.10]

This fortification consisted of two short parallel sides prolonged and drawn together in front so as to meet at a sharp angle; and the north side was similarly prolonged and drawn in toward the rear so as to protect partially the opening or throat. The approaches were not cleared; the ditch was neither sufficiently deep nor sufficiently wide; steps used in the process of construction made it easy to scale the face (scarp); the parapet was completed with sand-bags made with ordinary cotton cloth; and the guns, mounted in barbette without platforms, were hard to manage on fresh dirt soaked with rain; but the redoubt, armed with a 4-pounder and an 8-pounder--its northern side protected by the guns of the citadel, its southern face by the tannery building, and its throat by El Diablo--was a serious obstacle for infantry.[12.10]

Why Taylor did not plant his mortar in front of it Sunday night--for it was plainly visible and there was a transverse ridge within short grape-shot range--drive the garrison out with half a dozen well-aimed bombshells Monday morning, and repeat the operation the following night and morning with El Diablo, is rather hard to understand. But it must be remembered that he had probably never seen, and had certainly never attacked, a scientific earthwork; these "mud-forts," as the soldiers termed them, did not look impressive; and his plan to capture Monterey "pretty much with the bayonet" had been determined upon. He was nothing if not stubborn; and he doubtless believed that his officers and men, given a chance at the Mexicans, would certainly whip them somehow.[12.10]

Accordingly, as Twiggs, commander of the First Division, was too ill for battle, Taylor gave Lieutenant Colonel Garland this verbal order, written down by one of Garland's aides: "Colonel lead the head of your column off to the left, keeping well out of reach of the enemy's Shot, and if you think (or you find) you can take any of them little Forts down there with the bay'net you better do it--but consult with Major Mansfield, you'll find him down there." Garland then advanced with the First and Third regiments and the Washington-Baltimore Battalion, about 800 men, and made his way forward a considerable distance over broken and obstructed ground. He soon came in sight of Mansfield, and before long that officer galloped back to meet him. Garland no doubt communicated Taylor's orders at this time; and Mansfield, supported by some skirmishers, then went forward again.[12.10]

The responsibility now resting upon the engineer was extremely heavy. A map prepared by Meade from data brought by a spy probably showed the Mexican works fairly well, but of course did not fully reveal the intricacies of the situation. Taylor had seen this map, and must have known everything thus far discovered by the reconnoitring officers, and he evidently saw nothing to forbid an infantry attack. Under the fire of the citadel and other fortifications, a close and detailed examination of the ground, screened not only by the maze already alluded to but by hedges, bush fences, trees and cornfields lying just outside the suburb, was impossible; and to send the troops back without an overwhelming reason in the face of the two armies, and look "Old Rough and Ready" in the eye, was unthinkable. Taylor's order was therefore to all intents and purposes an order, not merely for a demonstration, but for an assault.[12.10]

[MONTEREY ASSAULTED]

So Garland, after marching for some time over and through all manner of obstructions, as Mansfield directed, kept on for a considerable distance under the fire of the citadel and redoubts, and at length saw that officer running ahead on foot at the northeastern angle of the town, and waving the troops on with his spy-glass. To obey this order involved turning to the right and then to the left--movements that disconcerted and scattered the raw Washington-Baltimore corps--and finally charging at a venture into the maze already described, but it was done; the Mexicans reinforcing the redoubt meanwhile with 150 men and an 8-pounder. Owing to the trend of the streets the Americans, now greatly reduced in numbers, took a course that led them to the right instead of the left, and failed to discover the throat of the redoubt, Mansfield's objective. Caught in the maze and falling rapidly under an artillery and musketry fire that seemed to come from everywhere, they found themselves totally helpless. Bragg's battery was thrown in, but it could accomplish nothing; and on Mansfield's recommendation Garland fell back.[12.10]

Shortly before this, judging from the heavy fire that a serious engagement was on, Taylor had ordered Butler to advance with his Field Division. By a sad blunder three companies of the Fourth Infantry, which had been covering the mortar and howitzers, were sent ahead of this corps against the redoubt, and "almost in a moment"--as the official report admitted--a third of the men fell. The rest, including Lieutenant Ulysses S. Grant, then retired; and Quitman's brigade, which now formed the left of the line, was ordered to support the regulars--in other words, renew the attack.[12.10]

With ample courage and enthusiasm the men advanced nearly a mile under the fire of the citadel--which, as Taylor privately admitted, "done considerable execution"--and before long under the worse fire of the redoubt in front; but they staggered in the smashing blast of lead and iron, their formation became very irregular, and after a time, though not within effective musket or rifle range, they began to fire at will. Colonel Davis, then some distance in advance on his iron-gray, Pompey, grew impatient at the waste of time, ammunition and life, and as the redoubt stopped firing just then, he cried, "Now is the time. Great God, if I had fifty men with knives I could take that fort." Then he waved his sword, and called on his men to charge. Colonel Campbell, equally ignoring his brigade commander, did the same; and both regiments hurried on as groups and individuals, each man trying to outstrip the rest.[12.10]

Fortunately the time was ripe. Worn down by several hours of excitement and exertion--for noonday was now approaching--the Mexicans felt a reaction. The stubborn perseverance of the Americans daunted them. Captain Backus and about 100 men of the First Infantry, not receiving the order to withdraw, had climbed to the parapeted roof of a building about 130 yards from the redoubt and now persistently annoyed them. They looked for the reserves; but perhaps Garland's operations prevented sending them, and certainly none came. Ammunition began to fail. The muskets were hot and foul. The cloth of the sand-bags took fire, and made the parapet extremely uncomfortable. Carrasco, the commander, who had run away at the Resaca, now openly took flight again; and a part of the garrison, formed to charge upon the Americans, were seen, or at least were supposed, to be retreating. A panic seized the troops, and almost in an instant the guns were abandoned and the redoubt stood nearly empty. A few minutes more, and tall, powerful McClung of the Mississippi Rifles leaped upon the parapet and waved his sword. By the same way or bursting through the sallyport, equally brave men of both regiments came close after him. Thirty or thirty-five prisoners were seized. An American flag went up; and after a brief conflict the tannery also--practically abandoned by the enemy--was taken.[12.10]

During Quitman's advance the First Ohio approached the city farther to the right. It was well officered, for besides its colonel, Brigadier General Hamer, the Hooker of Chancellorsville, the Johnston of Shiloh, Major General Butler and Major General Taylor accompanied it; but it failed to accomplish anything. A second attempt was equally unfortunate, but when Taylor--evidently despairing of success--had ordered it out of town, word came of Quitman's achievement. The regiment was then sent into the fight again. Garland's remnant, still in the outskirts of the city, came up; Quitman's troops were ordered to coöperate; and a determined effort was made to gain the rear of El Diablo. Both grand and pitiful that effort was. As an exhibition of pluck it could hardly have been surpassed. Taylor, fighting on foot, matched Richard Coeur de Lion storming Front de Boeuf's castle; and his intrepidity was so flawless and unforced that courage appeared to all round him the easy and only way. To die under such a leader seemed the acme of living. It was not war, but it was grand fighting.[12.10]

"We were not many, we who stood Before the iron sleet that day; Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years if but he could Have been with us at Monterey.

And on, still on our column kept Through walls of flame its withering way; Where fell the dead, the living stept, Still charging on the guns which swept The slippery streets of Monterey."

But the enemy, seldom visible, appeared to be everywhere. A large part of the groping Americans got in front of Purísima bridge, and went down fast under a rain of bullets from the tête de pont, while Captain Gutiérrez, who had now masked his gun on the opposite bank, poured grape and canister upon them at short range. Ridgely came up and fired several times at the bridgehead, but without effect. Among our troops, as one of the surgeons wrote, "All was confusion." Smoke hid the outlook; and the Mexican shots, breaking the limestone, mortar and adobe, raised a blinding dust. The assailants did not know where to turn or what to do. Taylor, Butler, Hamer, Quitman and other officers shouted orders that few could hear amidst the uproar, and perhaps fewer could reconcile. It was proposed to cut through from house to house, but the necessary implements had not been brought. Ridgely's and Bragg's batteries and the captured Mexican guns fired on El Diablo, and finally the 24-pound howitzers were brought in; but nothing could be accomplished in that way. Many of the best and the bravest fell; and eventually, at about five o'clock, the Americans retreated from all of Monterey except the Tenería redoubt and a few adjacent buildings.[12.10]

[A COSTLY AMERICAN TRIUMPH]

So the fight ended. It had been one long scene of gallantry, confusion, mistakes and waste. Lieutenant D. H. Hill, afterwards General Hill of the Confederate army, wrote in his journal on learning the details: "It seems that every sort of folly was committed." To pitch handfuls of infantry into an unknown maze of obstacles, fortifications and cannon as if they had been fighting Indians in a Florida swamp, and to send field batteries into narrow streets--in the suburb crooked, too--against heavy stone works and roofs filled with protected marksmen was extraordinary. And, it was credibly reported, Taylor did more. He ordered Ridgely out into the open to try conclusions with El Diablo. Ridgely was absolutely fearless. To satisfy the General he went out himself and reconnoitred, but he would not lead his battery to destruction. The Tennessee regiment was needlessly taken back and forth six times within range of the citadel.[12.10]

Now--to get shelter, food, ammunition--the troops had to march separately or in groups all the way to camp, exposed for a long distance not only to the citadel guns but also to the lancers, who nearly caused a disaster and might have done so, had all, instead of but a part of them, obeyed the order to charge. A howitzer, aided by the captured guns, still exchanged compliments now and then with El Diablo, but the battle of the day was over. A redoubt had been won, and Worth's operations against the Federation Ridge redoubts had been assisted; but these advantages might have been gained far more cheaply.[12.10]

The Tenería position was garrisoned for the night by Garland's exhausted command, the Kentucky regiment (Louisville Legion), which had been on guard at the mortar, and Ridgely's battery. This was not an agreeable task. The rain fell in torrents, and the interior of the fort was so thoroughly searched by the guns of El Diablo, that a part of the men had to lie on their backs in the mud. Some defences were thrown up, however; Tuesday morning Quitman's brigade relieved the garrison; and Taylor's men, cheered now by the sight of their comrades taking Independence Hill, were given a necessary rest. Both sides used their artillery to some extent, and in spite of the Mexican fire our position was further strengthened; but on this day nothing was done at the eastern end to assist Worth.[12.10]

During Tuesday night the enemy seemed to be in motion. They should have made an attack; and the Americans--without blankets, overcoats or food, soaked with rain, and chilled by a north wind--passed the hours reconnoitring or standing in water behind their breastwork. Far, however, from Ampudia's mind was the thought of a vigorous offensive. Dismayed by the cutting of his communications and by the stubborn valor of the Americans, and weakened by the cowardice of certain officers, he ordered all the outworks abandoned, and concentrated his forces in and near the grand plaza. Such a change could not be made at night without much confusion. Many of the troops, too, were indignant; some refused to leave their posts; all felt disheartened, and a few broke out in riotous disorder. The work of fortifying the inner line went on, but the loss of morale far more than offset this advantage.[12.10]

At daybreak Wednesday, suspecting that the Mexicans had left or were leaving El Diablo, Quitman advanced, and found that both men and guns had been withdrawn; but other works not far distant were still held too strongly to be captured. Attempts were made to gain ground in various directions; and finally, an hour or two before noon, with assistance from the Second Texas regiment, dismounted, and the Third and the Fourth Infantry, extensive and well-supported operations began to be undertaken. In particular, a systematic plan of breaking through the continuous line of houses and firing from the roofs was adopted. At each cross-street vigorous fighting had to be done, for the Mexicans, though inferior as marksmen, resisted obstinately at every favorable point; and the musketry and artillery behind their barricades swept the approaches fiercely. Five out of the twelve commissioned officers of the Third Infantry were killed, says General Grant. Two sections of field artillery came up, but the gunners were shot down rapidly in spite of all precautions; and at length, finding the pieces too light for effective service, Taylor ordered them to retire. A gun at the Tenería redoubt was tried, but after a time the advance of the Americans made it dangerous to fire toward the plaza.[12.10]

The infantry pushed on, however, and by three o'clock were only one square from the grand plaza. Here ammunition began to fail, and Lieutenant Grant, hanging over the side of his horse by an arm and a foot, dashed across the streets too swiftly to be fired at, and went in search of it. With a view to preparing for a general assault, however, or for some other reason Taylor ordered the troops, now working safely inside the houses, to withdraw--under fire, of course. Reluctantly, though many of them had not eaten for thirty-six hours, they marched back to the redoubts and thence after dark to Walnut Grove; and the Ohio and Kentucky regiments went on duty at the captured redoubts.[12.10]

Strangely enough, Taylor seems to have made no effort, after the storming of the Bishop's Palace, to arrange with General Worth for concerted action or to give him fresh orders, although he could easily have done so, and knew that all the work assigned to that division had been completed. Wednesday morning, therefore, after the long, deep slumber of exhaustion, Worth's men found themselves mostly in idleness, and a large part of them, concentrated near the Palace, gazed upon the city at their leisure as the dissolving mists revealed it. Not far away in the suburb were General Arista's gardens, full of orange, lemon, pomegranate and fig trees, bananas, grapes and flowers, watered by canals that sparkled in the sun. Once in a while a blue-frocked monk, girded with a white cord and tassel, could be seen; and flashes from the streams that ran through almost every street were caught here and there. Beyond lay the white or lightly tinted houses with leafy squares here and there, dominated by the cathedral spires. At due intervals the clock bell peacefully tolled the hour or the quarter. On the left the dark citadel belched occasionally a cloud of white smoke. On the right the Santa Catarina hurried along between the city and the picturesque villas on its opposite bank. Farther away, but still near, the twisted strata and the vast, splintered buttresses, battlements and pinnacles of the Sierra Madre, thinly draped with soft clouds, towered aloft; and overhead great birds that seemed to be eagles travelled like dark planets round their orbits in the blue.[12.10]

But though they gazed with deep interest, these haggard fellows with bloodshot eyes were not in a mood to enjoy the scene. No orders came from Taylor. Hardly a shot had been heard this morning from the lower town. Mexicans boasted of gaining a victory on that side, and "Your turn will come next," our men were told. Heavy reinforcements from Saltillo, it was rumored, would soon arrive by the pass. Worth, nervous and anxious, climbed to the Palace tower with his glass, and searched every quarter for news. Meantime the cannon were planted at more commanding points. A howitzer opened on the town. Preparations to make an assault were continued; and, as Mexicans from the south were now said to be approaching, a detachment went about three miles up the Saltillo highway to a strong position. An hour or two before noon, however, the roar of battle began to come from the lower town; and Worth, judging that it meant a serious attack, ordered a column forward by each of the two main streets.[12.10]

[WORTH ADVANCES AGAIN]

With a cheer that sounded like a roar the troops hurried down the slope, and burst into the suburb. For some time the work was easy, for in fear of the Libertad guns all the western section had been evacuated; and raising a fierce cry that afterwards came to be known as the "rebel yell," which began with a growl and rose to a falsetto scream, the Americans dashed on at a run. Beyond the cemetery, however, Mexican troops opened fire, and until some of Duncan's and Mackall's guns came up, fought like demons. Barricaded streets and garrisoned roofs were next encountered, and again the Americans dived into the houses. Making a small hole in the wall that divided two dwellings they would drop through it a six-inch shell with a three-seconds fuse lighted, and throw themselves flat. Results followed promptly. The aperture was then enlarged; and crawling through, they repeated the operation, while the best marksmen fought from the roof.[12.10]

Taylor's withdrawal from the city, however, supplied the Mexicans with reinforcements. The enemy fairly seemed to swarm, and their courage seemed to rise. "Cannons and small arms flashed, crashed and roared like one mighty storm of wind, rain, hail, thunder and lightning," wrote a soldier; while the thud of planks against heavy doors and the blows of pickaxes on walls of stone swelled the uproar. Once the advance was halted. But Colonel Hays, a shy man with a broad forehead, a Roman nose, brilliant, restless hazel eyes, and the courage of twenty lions packed in his delicate frame, had been a prisoner in the Monterey post-office once, and had sworn a great oath to sleep this night in the post-office or in hell, and nothing could stop him. By dark the Americans were only a square from the market-place, and the Colonel had the postal accommodations at his command.[12.10]

Ampudia's case was by no means desperate even now. His losses had been small--twenty-nine officers and 338 men killed and wounded, according to his report. There were provisions, ammunition and artillery enough; the strong buildings round the plaza and market-place, defended with resolution by a large garrison, could not easily have been taken; and the division of the Americans into widely separated commands invited a sortie.[12.10]

The situation was, however, by no means agreeable. After nightfall the Americans planted two howitzers and a 6-pounder on the top of a high building close to the western side of the plaza. Taylor's mortar had been carried to Worth during the day, and after sunset it began to fire now and then on the cathedral, where tons of gunpowder were stored. The citadel undertook to reply, but the mortar, planted behind the stone wall of the cemetery, was not likely to be struck, and a single one of its bombs might conceivably have blown the Mexican army to pieces. In fact so might a shot from Taylor's 24-pound howitzers, which delivered two shells effectively after dark. On the southern side of the river, opposite the town, the Fifth Infantry had planted one of the El Soldado guns at the third work on Federation ridge, where it could at least have proved annoying. The horses of the cavalry were in the way. The garrison of the citadel could not promptly coöperate with the troops in town, for it had sealed up the exit. Ampudia's defensive policy discouraged the soldiers, for even though some of them flanked the retiring Americans on Wednesday afternoon, they were not permitted to reoccupy the houses abandoned by Taylor, and still less to attack the redoubts. Despondency was general; some of the leading officers urged surrender; and Ampudia, it was reported, keeping the choicest corps near his person, shut himself up in the cathedral until a shell dropped near it, and then fled to a private house.[12.10]

[NEGOTIATIONS]

Naturally, then, early on Thursday morning one of his aides carried to the American general a proposition to give up the city, and retire with the troops and military material. Taylor replied with a demand for unconditional surrender, and insisted upon having an answer by noon. Instead of complying Ampudia sent a request for a personal interview. The result was a joint commission. Vexatious negotiations followed. The tedious and wily methods of Mexican diplomacy were thoroughly tried; but at length an ultimatum from Taylor's representatives ended the affair, and the terms of capitulation were signed. These provided that the citadel should be given up immediately, that within a week the Mexican troops with their arms, accoutrements and six field pieces should retire--without giving their parole not to fight again--beyond the line of Rinconada Pass, Linares and San Fernando de Presas, that before this evacuation of Monterey the town should be occupied by the Americans for hospital and storage purposes only, and that for eight weeks--"or until the orders or instructions of the respective governments can be received"--the Americans would not cross the specified line.[12.11]

As Polk asserted and the General himself admitted, Taylor violated his orders in granting such terms, and his excuses for doing so were signally unconvincing, while some of them involved perhaps the virtual assumption on his part of a political authority superior to the President's. But substantial reasons for the terms did exist. "Considering our situation," explained the General privately, they were not over-liberal; and that was true. Being very short of ammunition and provisions, he could only negotiate, assault or retreat. According to his spokesmen in the Senate, his effectives numbered only some 5000 and probably they did not reach those figures. About one third of them had no bayonets. The First Division of regulars had been crippled; the Second was tired out; and the volunteers had been so far demoralized, that in Meade's opinion they could no longer be depended upon. Worth, chief American representative on the joint commission, had not "the slightest confidence" left in Taylor's leadership, and wrote privately that "many others" shared his opinion, while a still greater number felt doubtful.[12.12]

With such troops, feeble artillery and scant ammunition, to attack an enemy of proved fighting quality, now at bay in stone houses, fully supplied with guns and munitions, and comparatively fresh, was not an inviting proposition. In short, as Crittenden and Clayton stated in defence of Taylor on the floor of the Senate, it was not feasible to storm the city; and to retreat with sick and wounded over such a route, pursued by mobile infantry and sleepless mounted men, and harried by an exultant population, would have meant ruin. It was a wise course to escape from this dilemma as he did, and the truth could not be told.[12.12]

[MONTEREY OCCUPIED]

September 25 the citadel was evacuated, and the next day with drums beating and banners flying the first brigade of Mexicans left the city--all noting with curious interest the difference between their trim uniforms and freshly pipe-clayed belts and the unkempt appearance of the victors, who, as an American said, were as dirty as they could be without becoming real estate. The second brigade followed on the next day, and the rest of the troops on the twenty-eighth. Monterey, with a quantity of indifferent gunpowder and a number of cannon, many of them bad, was ours, and soon the people of the United States, whom a costly but valorous battle impressed far more than orderly, scientific operations could have done, were again acclaiming Taylor. By distance, by his courage, by his picturesque individuality, and by his very position as commander of the one American army fighting the Mexicans, he was idealized. His excellent reports--the work of Bliss--confirmed every favorable impression; and the writers of the day, fully aware that he was already a popular hero and anxious to suit the prevailing taste, colored the facts until these could hardly be recognized. Men on the ground, in contact with the crude realities, felt otherwise. Taylor's want of prevision and of generalship was in fact bitterly censured there. Worth "is the high comb cock of the army," wrote one officer. He has won all the laurels, though Taylor will have the glory at home, remarked a surgeon.[12.13]

As for the conduct of the troops in general, however, there could be only one opinion. "Three glorious days," was General Scott's description of the struggle. War is--war. Dreadful things were done, splendid men were cut down. Yet if there be glory in fidelity and courage, in meeting extraordinary hardships, and in triumphing over extraordinary difficulties, then Scott's description was correct.[12.13]

XIII

SALTILLO, PARRAS, TAMPICO

August-December, 1846

For men supposed to have won a splendid victory, Taylor and his army seem to have been rather low in their spirits after the capture of Monterey. Taylor admitted that his forces had been "greatly reduced." Learning that a part of the Second Infantry had arrived on the Rio Grande, he described this trifling reinforcement as "most welcome." The Texas troops wished to go home and were discharged. To replace them he counted on the Tennessee and Kentucky horse; but these regiments, having been ordered to San Antonio, were long in reaching the front. October 15 he estimated his aggregate effective strength as less than 12,000.[13.1] Chills and fever, a depressing malady, was extremely prevalent; and a strong tendency to desert appeared to indicate a generally unsatisfactory state of things.[13.2] Not only priests but Mexican officers remaining at Monterey to convalesce or to care for the sick, stimulated this tendency; and about the middle of November all such officers, not indispensably needed by the sick and wounded, received peremptory orders to go south. A little later, it was reported, the alcalde was imprisoned for the same offence. Moreover bands of Mexicans, not dismayed by the American triumphs, hung upon Taylor's lines to rob and kill.[13.6]

[TAYLOR AND THE GOVERNMENT]

The General had other troubles also. There was a plan at Washington, promoted by reports of his inefficiency and by letters from certain ambitious officers left in the rear, to put in his place one of the new brigadier generals. Scott, however, protected his interests, and by having him assigned to duty with his brevet rank, threw a great obstacle before the schemers. They encountered other difficulties as well, and finally Polk sent him word confidentially that he need have no fear of displacement. This, however, did not prevent a serious clash between him and the administration over another matter. Perceiving that Mexico could not defend effectively the remote and disaffected provinces of the north against even our volunteer forces, realizing that the possession of territory would be an advantage in making a treaty, and wishing particularly to impress the Mexican Congress, which was to meet on December 6, Polk felt extremely anxious to extend our occupation as much as possible at once, and with all this in view it was proposed to Taylor on September 22 that, should he see fit, he should have General Patterson,[13.3] who was now the commanding officer at Camargo, occupy the chief points in Tamaulipas.[13.6]

As Taylor had bitterly complained of receiving hordes of volunteers for whom there was nothing to do, it was naturally presumed at Washington that such an expedition could be organized without interference with his plans; and, supposing also that Patterson was at Matamoros, far from Monterey, Marcy instructed that general to begin his preparations while awaiting definitive orders from Taylor on the subject. Such a movement, however, not being permissible under the terms of the armistice, a plan in which the government felt deeply interested came to nothing; and Taylor, perhaps to divert attention from this aspect of the case, not only vetoed the expedition, but protested violently against the course of the government in addressing one of his officers.[13.4] Polk was naturally and properly incensed, but he believed Taylor was now in the field for the Whig Presidential nomination, and wanted to force a quarrel upon the administration; and hence Marcy replied mildly to the General that the right of the commander-in-chief to offer mere "suggestions" could hardly be denied.[13.6]

On another point also there was a clash. Polk and his Cabinet condemned at once and unanimously the Monterey armistice; but, shrewdly or charitably suspecting that undisclosed reasons for it might have existed, they decided to end it in such a manner as to express neither approval nor censure. Marcy therefore directed on October 13 that it should be terminated, explaining that it stood in the way of prosecuting the war vigorously and forcing Mexico to seek peace. As by its terms the agreement was subject to the approval of the respective governments, no difficulty stood in the way of cancelling it; and on November 5 Taylor notified Santa Anna, that since the Washington authorities disapproved of the armistice, he should consider himself at liberty to resume offensive operations on the fifteenth, since by that date he reckoned that his despatch would reach San Luis Potosí.[13.6]

In reply the wily Mexican attempted to convey an insinuation of bad faith on the part of the American government. This Taylor properly noticed in his rejoinder, expressing at the same time a hope that Mexico would accept the offer of the United States to negotiate, and that permanent friendly relations between the two republics might ensue. Santa Anna had now a better opening; and he protested that his country would do all she could to justify her title to sovereignty and independence, and would never listen to any proposal of peace, until the American army should evacuate her soil, and the American vessels lay aside their hostile attitude.[13.5] The correspondence was published of course in the Diario, and obviously tended to unite the nation, as well as to enhance the prestige of its leader.[13.6]

[MOVEMENT AGAINST SALTILLO]

The termination of the armistice enabled Taylor to occupy Saltillo, upon which his eye had long been fixed. For several reasons he deemed the town, a place of some 18,000 souls, important. It was the capital of the state of Coahuila, a support for Monterey and the chief pass through the Sierra Madre, a station on the high road to the south, and the dominating point in a region full of corn, wheat, cattle and other supplies. At this time the city was entirely without protection. Mejía had been ordered in May to fortify it, but had not been able to do so; and Santa Anna's first thought, on learning that Monterey had capitulated, was to bring Ampudia back to San Luis Potosí with his demoralized soldiers.[13.10]

Accordingly General Worth received orders on November 8 to march for that place four days later with Lieutenant Colonel Duncan's battery, the Artillery Battalion (eight companies), the Fifth and the Eighth Infantry, and Blanchard's Company--in all about 1000 men;[13.7] and Taylor with two squadrons of the Second Dragoons under Lieutenant Colonel May determined to accompany him. The morning of the twelfth brought a despatch from Marcy dated October 22, expressing the wish of the government that, in view of Santa Anna's threatening posture and the increasing unfriendliness of the people, no attempt should be made to hold territory beyond Monterey, or at most beyond the mountains; but the decision was confided to the General, and he set out the next day.[13.10]

Advancing, then, by the left bank of the swift Santa Catarina River, at this time of the year but an insignificant stream, the column ascended gradually, passed the village of that name, and after marching nearly 28 miles came to a small bridge and a group of handsome live-oaks. Next the road descended a little, and, enclosed much of the way by lines of trees and maguey,[13.8] pursued the same general direction until it reached the hacienda of Rinconada, a mile or so farther on. Up to this point the majestic ranges of the Sierra Madre, nearly destitute of vegetation, though here and there brightened by a white thread of water, had stood about six miles apart; but now they closed in, and the road, turning sharply to the left, plunged into a grand and sombre gorge known as the Pass of Rinconada. For three miles or more it ascended steeply between gray and frowning walls of stone decorated only with a few hardy and prickly growths, and sometimes partly hidden by the clouds; but finally the summit was gained, and before long the farm of Los Muertos (The Dead) came in sight with its bare, vertical cliffs and its huge cairn of cobble-stones--probably a memorial to some party of travellers murdered by robbers--which gave a grim significance to the name.[13.10]

Here the Americans gazed with special interest at Mexican works intended to check their advance. Not willing to give up this natural fastness Ampudia, in spite of the orders to withdraw, had undertaken to fortify it; but soon, discovering that more extensive defences than he possessed the means to erect and equip would be needful, to prevent the position from being turned, he had prudently concluded to dismantle his fortifications and retreat. The gorge now expanded, and gave place to a long, wide, open valley extending to Saltillo. Here gardens, fields and crops were seen once more, but how different! Instead of the orange and lemon groves, the bananas and figs of Monterey, with the languid smokes of sugar-houses rising in the distance, the soldiers beheld fields of wheat and oats, and orchards of cherries and apples. In short, a march of 65 or 70 miles had transported them to New England.[13.10]

Gathered with great difficulty on November 15, the legislature of Coahuila had elected and inaugurated J. M. de Aguirre as governor, and on approaching Saltillo the following day Taylor received from him a formal protest against the American advance.[13.9] The General kept on, however, without replying, and leaving Worth's command in the city square, pitched his tent on the farther side of the town. There was little to make the place agreeable. Saltillo lay on the southeastern side of a slightly concave plain, with mountains close behind it that looked, in the afternoon of a sunny day, like immense drifts of dusty snow. The city itself, consisting mostly of low adobe houses--protected with grated windows--clinging to steep, narrow streets, wore the aspect of dilapidation and age that was characteristic of provincial Mexico; and the common people, apparently less intelligent then the populace of Monterey, probably more dominated by the priests, and certainly more secluded from contact with Americans, looked sullen and hostile.[13.10]

Some of better standing attempted to charge exorbitant prices; but the General promptly seized whatever supplies he could lay hands upon, ascertained the owners, and proposed to pay what had been the current rates or nothing. He treated the chief magistrate well, however, assuring him that his desire was to see peace restored as soon as possible, and good order preserved meanwhile at Saltillo; and after ordering certain reconnaissances made in the surrounding region, he set out for Monterey about the twenty-first. His gruff, unpolished ways did not entirely please the Mexicans, and they were glad to find themselves now under the courtly Worth, to whom they ascribed "better feelings."[13.10]

[THE CHIHUAHUA EXPEDITION]

Meanwhile two other American commands, one on each side of Taylor, were conducting aggressive operations. If the occupation of Tamaulipas was likely to influence Mexico and facilitate the negotiation of a treaty, so was that of Chihuahua; and the western as well as the eastern of these provinces was believed to be disaffected toward the general government on account of the overthrow of the federal constitution. As early, therefore, as the middle of May, Polk proposed to the Cabinet an expedition against Chihuahua, and the suggestion was immediately accepted. Naturally such a diversion of strength from an effective line of attack to a remote section, where the people were hardly strong enough to cope with the savages, occasioned both at the time and later much criticism; and not only on this, but on other grounds as well, the President's action in the matter could be criticized fairly.[13.11]

Indeed, in almost every case that required a thorough comprehension of the Mexican problem, he blundered. Yet this was not his fault. He did his best; and one is tempted to lay the charge against a system of government which confers on politicians, ignorant or poorly informed regarding vital matters, the honors and responsibilities of statesmanship. So broad a censure is, however, unjust, as one scarcely needs to say. At all events we do not place in power, as others have done, mere fainéants or persons qualified only for social functions and palace intrigues. Very few Americans reach a high public station unless they have ability of some kind, a more or less healthful ambition to achieve, and much force of character; and thus we stand about as well perhaps as the Chinese, who used to reason that a man who could surpass a multitude of rivals in memorizing--and thus absorbing more or less fully--the best thought and language of his race, would be able to perform the commonplace duties of a magistrate. In reality our troubles arise from the infirmities of human nature and the defectiveness of all human institutions, no doubt, and this reflection may help us feel the proper resignation as we view the blunders of the Mexican war; yet one cannot quite forget the opinion of Meade: "Well may we be grateful that we are at war with Mexico! Were it any other power, our gross follies would have been punished severely."[13.11]

About the middle of June Brigadier General Wool, then at Louisville, received instructions to take command at San Antonio, Texas--for which point certain troops were already under orders--report to Taylor, and prepare for an expedition against Chihuahua. He proceeded to New Orleans, accordingly, and from there he wrote on the twenty-eighth of July that within twenty days, he hoped, the whole of his force would be at the rendezvous. In this he was disappointed. La Vaca, Texas, about 160 miles from San Antonio, was the chief base on the coast,[13.12] and wet weather made the so-called roads almost impassable. To get 1112 heavy loads of supplies through bottomless mud, churned by about 500 wagons going and returning, was an almost inconceivable task. Though excessive rains had been falling, the troops, marching under an August sun, were tormented by thirst; an occasional bunch of delicious grapes or slice of prime venison could hardly solace them for the abundance of rattlesnakes, tarantulas, scorpions and centipedes; and sleep was broken by the screaming of panthers and howling of wolves--positively unearthly when near, one of the soldiers wrote, and resembling, when distant, the wail of some terrible monster gasping for life. In spite of hardships and labors, however, men and wagons finally reached San Antonio, and on August 14 Wool himself arrived at that point.[13.26]

Here the troops had time to rest, and they found much of interest. The old Mexican town--where one could still see now and then a fig tree spreading itself in the patio (courtyard) of a crumbling house, or gaze at the heavy, earth-brown or moss-covered walls of the Alamo, pitted by Santa Anna's cannon balls--looked in their eyes like some ancient oriental city "just dug up," as one of them said; and the cactus, the live-oaks, the mocking-birds, the pellucid river and the many varieties of grapes extinguished soon the memory of past fatigues.[13.26]

For Wool, on the other hand, there was no repose. Now, as always during the Mexican war, operations were unspeakably embarrassed by the necessity of drawing supplies from so great a distance and by sea, and naturally San Antonio, a town of only some 2000 persons, could furnish much less than cities like Vera Cruz or even Matamoros. Each particular article that would be necessary on the expedition had to be provided now; and departmental errors, like delaying arms and misdirecting parts of wagons, were therefore peculiarly unfortunate. But the greatest difficulty was disorder. The command was a chaotic mass like that on the Rio Grande, turbulent, impatient, insubordinate. Wool, however, attacked the problem without shrinking, and what a soldier called "the iron hand" of military discipline soon began to set things right.[13.26]

[HARNEY'S ESCAPADE]

Highly unfortunate, therefore, in this as well as in other regards, was an escapade of Brevet Colonel Harney, a man as brave as a lion and also as untamable, who had been occupying San Antonio for some time with three companies of the Second Dragoons. Obtaining permission to ask for Texan troops to defend the frontier against the Indians,[13.13] he called for eight companies, and shortly before Wool's arrival, on the pretext of a threatened Mexican invasion of which he entertained little or no fear, he moved off with his entire command, although he knew of the intended concentration at San Antonio, and advanced to the Rio Grande.[13.14] Imprudently crossing the river, he was cut off by one of its quick rises. Only the refusal of his officers to follow him prevented a ridiculous dash against Monterey. Finally, near the end of August, he obeyed the order to return, but left three companies behind; and a part of this detachment, engaged in procuring a large supply of grain and flour in Mexico, lost the supplies and three of their number, killed or wounded. The rest of the three companies escaped under fire in a disgraceful manner, burning public stores to prevent the Mexicans from taking them; and of course news that Americans had been repulsed flew like fire through the border.[13.26]

[WOOL'S MARCH]

Such presumption on the part of a regular officer, such imprudence, and above all such disregard of his government's known intentions were intolerable, and Wool felt them with peculiar intensity. He was a high-strung person. Being devoutly pious he loathed swearing, for example; but on special occasions his feelings got the better of his tongue, and when this occurred he would instantly raise his eyes to heaven and implore forgiveness. While not a great man, and apparently incapable of inspiring soldiers or gaining their sympathetic support, he understood his profession and lived up to it. When campaigning he seemed to sleep--if he slept at all--with both eyes open, and the outposts were liable to receive a visit at any hour of the night. Never sparing himself, he was equally stern with others; and towards officers, presumably more intelligent and responsible than privates, he seemed especially exacting. So now he treated Harney with such rigor that some of the volunteer officers, little disposed to favor strict discipline, sympathized with the culprit, and Wool came to be regarded by not a few as a narrow martinet, jealous and harsh in temper and weak in judgment. Possibly some ground for these opinions could be found, but substantially they were unjust.[13.15]

Finally, on September 23, a topographical party went forward to study routes, inquire about wood, water and forage, and select halting places; and two days later some 1400 men, the first section of the "army," advanced into an almost unknown region with about one hundred and seventy-five wagons and provisions for two months.[13.16] The distance to Presidio del Rio Grande, a small Mexican town five or six miles beyond the river, was about 175 or possibly 185 miles. Much of the country proved to be rough and wild, but there were also barren prairies, deep "hog-wallows," rich bottom-land and one fine, broad valley. Several streams had to be crossed, and among these were counted the Medina and the Leona, not less beautiful than their names. Population there was almost none, though on the first day's march Castroville, a German town planted on American soil by a Frenchman bearing a Spanish name, offered quite cosmopolitan suggestions. A drought of several weeks had made the roads hard and the streams fordable, and no serious difficulty was encountered until on October 8 the advance came to the Rio Grande.[13.26]

The river was here swift and rather more than four feet in depth; but with the aid of boats and a pontoon bridge, provided beforehand by Wool, the troops effected a crossing safely during the next few days, established a small fort at each end of the bridge--to hold it and to guard the boats for the second section under Colonel Churchill, which was still waiting at San Antonio for the means of transportation--and then camped three or four miles beyond the town for rest and repairs. Some of the teams had come all the way from La Vaca, 330 miles, without stopping for a day. As the small Mexican border force had retired and the citizens were friendly, there was nothing to fear; and Wool's amicable assurances, reinforced with strict orders to molest no one, promoted kind relations. The government had left him without specie, and the people would accept only hard cash; but with private means and by dint of borrowing he obtained half-rations of corn. This brightened the outlook noticeably, for subsistence was to be, of course, the greatest problem; and the arrival here of Brigadier General Shields,[13.17] who brought not only another body of the troops but news that Monterey had fallen, and took command of all the infantry, together with a small force of mounted men, appeared to strengthen the expedition materially.[13.26]

Wool had received no definite instructions from Taylor, and on October 16 with about 1800 men he struck out according to his own judgment for Monclova, taking a circuitous route practicable for wagons and artillery. This brought the army soon to San Fernando de Rosas, a garden of roses lying in a beautiful plain on the cool and limpid Hidden River (the Escondido), surrounded with trees and encompassed at a distance with superbly grand peaks.[13.18] Here the road turned more toward the south, and the country soon became broken. Formidable mountains upreared themselves ahead, and before long the troops were among them, traversing valley after valley in order to turn their huge flanks.[13.26]

The San José range, some 4000 feet high, had to be climbed. It was a hard task; but when the mists dissolved, Wool and his men gazed with delight over two beautiful valleys, where meandering lines of dark foliage marked the watercourses, while on the west, like a battlemented wall, towered the Sierra de Santa Rosa, its precipitous buttresses festooned with white and purple clouds. Descending then through a gorge to the plain of San José, the army next encountered the Alamos and Sabinos Rivers, each about four feet deep and racing like a torrent. To get the wagons across looked at first impossible; but with incredible exertions and the aid of ropes and improvised bridges the feat was accomplished.[13.26]

At the foot of the next range lay Santa Rosa, a town of some 2500 people, where the troops arrived on October 24. All were Federalists here. Their interests had suffered greatly from the dishonesty and inefficiency of the central government, and the presents of cake, fruit and confectionery offered to the Americans told their own story. Beyond this point the road entered a sterile region, where almost the sole inhabitants were sheep and goats. Now and then water could only be obtained by scooping it from holes in salty ground, and sometimes there was hardly fuel enough to boil the coffee. At length coffee and sugar gave out, but the magnificent range on either side helped the men keep up their spirits. A protest against the American advance was received, and some 2500 men gathered under Colonel Blanco to enforce it;[13.19] but as the loss of Monterey had cowed the people, and there were no funds to stimulate them, Blanco dissolved his army; and on October 29 Wool formally occupied Monclova without opposition. A week later Churchill with a hundred wagons and nearly all of the rear section came up.[13.26]

At this town, a place of about 5000 population, lying amid hills on the fine Monclova River, Wool remained almost four weeks, for on account of the armistice Taylor forbade a further advance toward the south; and the army, camping a mile or so from the city, had time to drill, recruit, reconnoitre and make repairs. It was a pleasant sojourn. Rivulets of pure water freshened the streets; highly cultivated fields, mostly planted with corn, filled the wide valley, and far mountains clung to the horizon like azure clouds. Being now almost 600 miles from La Vaca, Wool sent for the last supplies waiting with escorts at San Antonio, prepared to break up his communications with that point, and opened a connection with Camargo, not more than 200 miles distant. At the same time he collected some local provisions, though most of the surplus had already been drawn away by Ampudia, and he studied the routes. Strict rules were made for both officers and men about entering the town; the sale of liquor to soldiers was prohibited under penalty; and the arrival of some gold aided materially.[13.26]

[WOOL'S TRIALS]

Things went substantially well, in fact, yet they did not go smoothly. Considerable sickness prevailed among the troops. For a time the daily ration per man had to be fixed at nine ears of corn, ground in the portable steel mill of each company; and the soldiers grumbled. Orders were issued requiring every man to shave, as the regulations provided; and beardless young fellows, lacerating their faces in order to prove themselves "men," grumbled again. The volunteers abominated the "tarnal regulars," who were naturally the chief reliance for enforcing rules, and when an opportunity came, retaliated. Many of their officers were outspokenly dissatisfied with the conduct of the expedition. Wool's bearing was denounced as harsh; but perhaps their own deportment had something to do with that, for the punctilious Mexicans thought his manners good. Officers as well as men chafed under the discipline; but the General could easily reply that good-will on the part of the Mexicans was essential, and that not a single complaint had yet been made by the people.[13.20] In all probability it was argued that a flying column of half Wool's numbers would have been far preferable; but it could be answered that wastage from disease and battle had been anticipated, that so small a column would probably have been attacked by Colonel Blanco's irregulars and by other forces,[13.21] and that after the conclusion of the armistice Ampudia might have to be reckoned with.[13.26]

Certainly the dissatisfied officers ridiculed unmercifully the number of wagons. Here their ground was somewhat firmer. Jesup himself had taken the position that such a train could neither reach Chihuahua nor be sent back to the base. But in this matter Wool stood at the centre and the quartermaster general stood at the circumference. It seems very doubtful whether an adequate mule train could have been organized at San Antonio in season. Without the wagons the army would probably have been compelled to live more or less upon the country; and this would have led to the concealment, or even the destruction of supplies, to bloodshed, to a state of things not compatible with the conciliatory methods ordered by Taylor and the government, perhaps to a serious lack of rations, and possibly to the ruin of this isolated command. Moreover artillery was essential; and Wool may have reasoned that where cannon could go, wagons could follow.[13.26]

The wagons and guns were, however, a serious embarrassment, and while at Monclova Wool satisfied himself that he could not march from there to Chihuahua by the direct route. A lack of water also was a grave difficulty. Besides, a large force appeared under the present circumstances unnecessary. Ampudia retreated to San Luis Potosí; and although Santa Anna had taken steps, before the American expedition left the Rio Grande, to prepare for the defence of Chihuahua, the military forces holding that point had fallen back on Durango. There was indeed nothing for Wool to conquer now but distance, and he felt that five or six hundred men could do this as well as more. In his opinion, therefore, the proper course was to proceed about 180 miles in a southwesterly direction to Parras, where he would be on a good road to Chihuahua and only about 90 miles from Saltillo; and indeed he thought it advisable to join the main army. His views were duly expressed to his superior officer, and Taylor concurred. The government, concluding that the revival of the federal system at Mexico would change the sentiment of the northern states, and that Chihuahua was in effect already in our grasp, took a similar position;[13.22] and accordingly on the twenty-fourth of November, leaving four companies to guard the stores at Monclova, Wool set out for Parras.[13.26]

The long march, generally through deserts and rugged mountains, was cheered by a halt at a fine estate belonging to gentlemen who had received their education in Kentucky, and still cherished the most cordial recollections of their American experiences; and on December 5 the army pitched its gray tents in front of the town. By many Parras, a place of about the same size as Monclova, was called an Eden. It lay where a wide plain and a long hill met, and most of the streets were extremely narrow and crooked; but streams of clean water flowed through them, and most of the residences were buried in gardens or vineyards. But even amidst the luxury of romantic nature firm discipline continued. The soldiers were kept at their drills and parades; their arms and clothing had to be ready at all times for a close inspection; as at Monclova, a system of calls and signals made surprises impossible; and Wool busied himself in procuring corn and flour and in reconnoitring.[13.26]

[THE CHIHUAHUA EXPEDITION ABANDONED]

All the while he looked for orders, and finally the summons came. December 17, at a little before two o'clock in the afternoon, he rode hastily into town with staff and escort, holding despatches in his hand; and at once the aides and men hurried through the markets crying out, "Soldiers, to the camp instantly!" As will appear in due time,[13.23] the call was urgent. But it found Wool ready as usual, and in two hours his army--leaving the sick under guard and taking with it 350 wagons, provisions for 60 days, 400,000 cartridges and 200 rounds for the cannon--set out. No blundering occurred. Thanks to his reconnaissances Wool knew which of the routes to pursue. And there was no loitering. Once the troops made thirty-five miles in twenty-four hours; and in four days they shook hands with General Worth's brave men, then some twenty miles beyond Saltillo and 110 or perhaps 120 from Parras.[13.26]

"An entire failure," was Taylor's comment on Wool's expedition, and in a sense his judgment appeared to be correct.[13.24] But this was Polk's fault. Where there is nothing to do, nothing can be done.[13.25] Before laying out the campaign the government should have seen what it had now seen--that Saltillo was the key of Chihuahua, and that a properly equipped expedition could not reach the latter city without passing rather close to the former. But in reality Wool accomplished a great deal. He showed how a real soldier, without fear and without political yearnings, could lead an expedition through an enemy's country. Nine hundred miles this army marched. Swift rivers were quickly crossed, ravines filled, hills cut down, mountains climbed. Provisions never failed. No wreckage marked the route. Not a drop of blood was shed; not a shot fired. Wool made enemies only among those who were under obligations to be friends, and made friends among those who were under obligations to be enemies. And out of a crude, heterogeneous mass he forged a keen, tough, highly tempered blade, that was to prove its value soon in a terrible crisis.[13.26]

[TAMPICO IN VIEW]

The other lateral expedition moved against the city of Tampico. This place, the principal town in the state of Tamaulipas, and after Vera Cruz the chief port of Mexico on the Gulf coast, was physically remarkable. Land and water are perhaps nowhere more freakishly intermingled. But for practical purposes one may describe it adequately as on a low ridge--with the immense lagoon of Carpintero on the one hand and the deep, wide, heavy, greenish-brown Pánuco on the other--a little more than five miles from the Gulf, as the river flows. For ten years beginning in 1835 political upheavals and vexatious commercial regulations had militated against its prosperity; but the port was highly prized by the government, and in April, 1846, was taken into its particular care.[13.38]

All the old fortifications having been demolished lest they should be turned to account by insurgents, Parrodi, the comandante general, was ordered to prepare the town for defence, and a number of badly planned and badly constructed works--particularly a redoubt equipped with two 8-pounders on the north side of the Pánuco at the bar--gave a semblance of security. Some twenty-five light or fortress guns were placed; but efforts to obtain additional heavy ordnance from Vera Cruz were frustrated by the blockade, and when Ampudia, going north in the summer, was directed to give his first attention to reinforcing the garrison, circumstances again intervened. The people were spirited, however; and the daily Eco voiced their sentiments by exclaiming, "With such officers, with such troops, with such citizens let the Yankees come whenever they please!"[13.38]

As a matter of fact the Yankees had thoughts of coming quite soon. Possession of the town seemed to be desirable, in the first place, because for some time it was supposed to be the starting-point of a carriage-road to San Luis Potosí, and apparently could be made a more convenient base than the Rio Grande for a deep advance into Mexico; but the war department found before long that wagons and artillery could not cross the mountains by that route. In the second place occupation of Tampico appeared to be a logical feature of the Tamaulipas movement, in which Patterson was expected to play a leading rôle;[13.27] and moreover, Santa Anna himself had explained to Mackenzie that it would be advantageous as well as easy to make this conquest.[13.38]

Conner had his eye upon the place, of course; but, aside from the question of overcoming its defenders, he felt considerable hesitation. It was regarded as the most dangerous port on the coast, and vessels could not ride out a gale at anchor off the shore. The bar, on which eight feet of water stood normally, had only a fathom in August, 1846; and as the fleet would have to rendezvous and prepare for battle in the open roadstead, he was afraid that one of the frequent northers would assail him before he could assail the town. September 22, however, when deciding upon the Tamaulipas expedition, Polk and his Cabinet agreed that Conner should attack Tampico, and the order was issued that day.[13.38]

Santa Anna seems to have remembered the advice given to Mackenzie, and while at Mexico he instructed Parrodi to retire, if attacked, unless he could be sure of resisting successfully. On his way to San Luis he evidently received Marcy's intercepted letter of September 2, which announced that a movement upon Tampico was contemplated.[13.28] Hence on October 3, with a view to the confirmation of those instructions, he directed the war office to notify Parrodi of the American plan. Two days later the comandante general reported to Santa Anna that he could not defend the town victoriously, and explained in detail why. His garrison, including some 200 sick, consisted of less than 1200 men besides 200 available National Guards, ignorant of the use of arms. Only 870 of these men could be employed, according to a later statement of his, at the town and the bar, and having but 150 regular gunners he could not man the numerous and widely separated positions. Indeed he would not be able to subsist the garrison more than eleven days longer.[13.29] The enemy, on the other hand, it was said, included a shore party of 3000, and could attack by water and by land at the same time.[13.38]

[TAMPICO EVACUATED BY THE MEXICANS]

In response, Parrodi received from Santa Anna on October 14 an order, confirmed three days later, that all the heavy guns, the stores, and his three gunboats, light but effective craft, should be sent up the river, and that he himself with his troops and what field pieces could be taken along, should withdraw to Tula, a place behind the mountains. Parrodi, who did not believe in the war, liked these instructions, and proceeded to execute them. The government, however, seemed unwilling to abandon Tampico, and the comandante general, perplexed by this difference of sentiment and by the protests of the governor, troops, people and foreign consuls, offered to Santa Anna some arguments against his instructions: but the latter, annulling without ceremony the government's action, impatiently ordered immediate evacuation. His reasons were, in brief, that he could not reinforce the garrison adequately without dividing the army in a manner incompatible with his plans; that, even should he undertake to do so, this aid could not arrive in time; and that, since a victorious defence could not be expected, it was important not only to save the men and material, but especially to avoid the moral effect of another American triumph; and no doubt, on the assumption that Conner was prepared to make a strenuous, unflinching attack with such forces as Parrodi described, these reasons were sound.[13.38]

Excited by the urgency of his instructions, which were received on the twenty-second, the comandante general now endeavored to atone for the time lost, and executed a flight instead of an evacuation.[13.30] The redoubt at the bar was destroyed; large quantities of war material were thrown into the river; with the aid of the British consul a pretended sale of the gunboats was effected; and on October 27 and 28 the troops hastily withdrew.[13.38]

While these events were taking place, timely notice of them was forwarded to Conner. Chase, the American consul, had been expelled and had taken refuge on a blockading vessel; but his wife, who was a British subject, remained in Tampico, and on October 20 she wrote to the Commodore that Parrodi would evacuate the town on the following day, and that no resistance would be made against an American attack. By November 5 Conner received this news, but a lack of provisions made it impossible for him to set out the next day, as he desired to do. On the tenth, eleventh and twelfth, however, eleven vessels made sail from Antón Lizardo with orders to rendezvous fifteen miles from the shore on a certain east and west line a little south of Tampico. The frigates Raritan and Potomac did not appear there; but as the weather was fine, Conner decided to proceed, and at break of day, November 14, the Mississippi, Princeton, St. Mary's, three small steamers--the Spitfire, Vixen and Petrel--and three schooner-gunboats joined the blockading vessel off Tampico bar. By this time the Commodore knew that Parrodi had not evacuated the city on the twenty-first, and, supposing the garrison was still there, expected some hard work;[13.31] but the weather looked favorable, and he prepared at once to attack.[13.38]

Lieutenant Commanding Hunt, the blockading officer, had examined the bar; and piloted by him the three small steamers towed the gunboats across it. By ten o'clock the river was entered successfully, and the Commodore advanced immediately toward the city. The low shores were covered with rich vegetation; the huts, thatched with palmetto leaves, appeared cosey if not grand; broad-leaved bananas and loaded orange-trees grew beside them; tall cocoanut palms languidly waved their graceful fronds above; and the long line of steamers and schooners, followed by nine boats from the frigates packed with officers, marines and sailors, made an impressive spectacle as they moved slowly up the smooth but rapid Pánuco under an azure sky.[13.38]

Conner himself was on the Spitfire. As he approached the town, he was met by a deputation from the ayuntamiento (city council), who stated that having neither the means nor the disposition to resist, they desired to capitulate. Perry and two other officers then went ashore with the deputation to arrange terms; but after a long conference, finding this impossible--though of course the expediency of surrendering was not in debate--all returned to the Spitfire, and at length an informal agreement was reached. Next morning the chief points of this were embodied in the following declaration:[13.32]

"United States Steamer Spitfire. Off the City of Tampico, November 15, 1846. Commodore Conner declines a Capitulation with the Authorities of Tampico as he considers it unnecessary. He accepts the surrender of the City, and takes military possession of it. He assures the Inhabitants, at the same time, that he will not interfere with their Municipal Regulations, or their Religion; and that private property shall be respected, provided that the public property of all kinds, be delivered up at once, and in good faith. Should an assault be made by the Inhabitants of the City, on the American Forces, the Inhabitants will be held responsible for the consequences. Commodore Conner, so long as the Authorities and Inhabitants of the City observe good faith towards him, will consider them under his protection;--a different course will expose them to serious evils."[13.38]

The danger of an assault was not imminent, for the National Guards could find but one hundred serviceable muskets, and all the people of the town, who usually numbered about 15,000 but were now perhaps half as many, lined the streets and gazed at the Americans as mere spectators. All the public property that was movable had been carried away, but the public buildings were now occupied; and, as the fraudulent sale of the gunboats was detected, three much needed vessels, built at New York, were added to our navy.[13.33] Steps were then taken to recover what Parrodi had transported up the river.[13.34] November 18 Tattnall set out with the Spitfire and Petrel, and the next forenoon he reached Pánuco town, the head of navigation, some eighty miles from Tampico, where it was known that heavy guns had been left. Everything had been concealed but the concealment proved ineffectual. He disabled nine 18-pounders, threw into the river a quantity of balls, and burned some camp equipage; and a 24-pounder was taken aboard.[13.38]

[TAMPICO GARRISONED]

In ordering the capture of Tampico, the American government had intended that Patterson should be at hand to occupy the town, and as this calculation had been upset by Taylor, it now became a question how to retain the prize. The place of the squadron was at sea; without the help of every man it looked almost impossible to manage the vessels in bad weather; and officers of nearly all grades were actually wanting. So Perry in the steamer Mississippi sailed from Tampico on the evening of November 15 for Brazos Island, and the next day left an officer there to explain the situation. Without delay the news was forwarded to Patterson at Camargo, and he directed that men and cannon should go "forthwith" to the captured city. His instructions were not waited for, however. Lieutenant Colonel Belton, who occupied Camp Belknap with six companies of the so-called artillery, embarked for the mouth of the river on hearing from Perry; and on November 21 Colonel Gates and about 500 men sailed from the Brazos in the Neptune, leaving two more companies to follow the next day in the Sea.[13.35] Both vessels were driven ashore, but fortunately the troops were saved in both cases. By the twenty-third Tampico had therefore a garrison of about 650 good regulars. Some ordnance also arrived; and Conner, besides landing a pair of carronades, remained in the harbor with four or five gunboats. Fortunately the only land approaches were by a neck at each end of the town between Carpintero Lake and the river; and the work of fortifying these, begun at once, was prosecuted night and day.[13.38]

Perry, meanwhile, kept at work. November 21 the Mississippi, bearing the red pennant of a vice commodore at the masthead, appeared at New Orleans.[13.36] Announcing the capture of Tampico, Perry conferred with General Brooke and the governor of the state, and obtained sixteen cannon--half of them borrowed from the Louisiana arsenal--and with these, an engineer officer, 110 regular recruits and a quantity of ammunition, he arrived off Tampico on the twenty-ninth.[13.37] Before long the Alabama regiment came from the Rio Grande, and the government, which heard of the capture of Tampico on November 28, ordered about 460 additional regulars to be sent from the United States. There was great anxiety at Washington to make the port secure, for, as will soon be discovered, a particular reason for holding it had now arisen. Gates issued stringent regulations to govern the citizens in case of a Mexican attack; and by December 19 Brigadier General Shields was in command there with an adequate and fairly well-protected garrison. Yet the Mexicans endeavored to feel cheerful. No battle had been lost, for none had been fought, said the government with convincing logic; and the Americans had not triumphed, for they had merely taken what had been abandoned; but the governor of Tamaulipas recalled bitterly that "in former times Tampico, almost by herself, had repulsed more than 4000 veterans."[13.38]

[TAYLOR'S POLICY]

Substantially all of northeastern Mexico was now in American hands, and the question of Taylor's future operations, which had long been under consideration, became urgent. On that matter the General himself entertained a definite opinion. He was for adopting a boundary line that would include enough territory to pay all just American claims, and standing there on the defensive. As already drawn, the line ran from Parras, where he expected Wool to remain, and Patos, a rich hacienda on the Parras route about thirty-five miles from Saltillo, to Saltillo itself, to Camp Butler, six miles north of that city toward Rinconada Pass, and to Monterey. Between Monterey and Tampico lay a wide gap, but the General proposed to fill this now by occupying certain points in Tamaulipas. Victoria, the capital of that state, was exposed to attacks proceeding from Tula, and there he planned to have a large force.[13.41]

How many troops were available is not precisely known; but according to Meade, who seems to have been in rather close touch with headquarters, Worth was to have some 2500 at Saltillo and eight guns, Butler 1500 at Monterey, Taylor and Patterson about 5000, to be divided between the posts in Tamaulipas and a new position in advance of Saltillo, and the commanders on the lines of communication about 2000; which meant that some 14,500 men, including Wool's 2400 or 2500 and about 1000 occupying Tampico, were to hold lines approximately 800 miles long in an enemy's country.[13.39] Over against them stood the Mexicans under Santa Anna, who in Taylor's opinion were potentially, if not actually, more than 50,000 in number, and were occupying before Christmas a position only about sixty miles from the Americans;[13.40] and in addition to these it was necessary to consider the large bands of irregulars, like those of Colonel Blanco, who were liable to gather suddenly almost anywhere.[13.41]

When Taylor reported his plan to the war department, a good deal of anxiety and perhaps distress was felt there. To be sure, he pointed out that artillery could be moved north by way of Saltillo only, and that water and provisions were scanty on that road, while doubtless he as well as others considered the Mexicans too deficient in vigor and enterprise to be feared. How just were these calculations will appear in the sequel, and they failed now to satisfy the government. Though not informed by Taylor precisely how many posts he intended to establish in Tamaulipas, Marcy was afraid that widely separated forces and lines of communication would be assailed, and it was clear that a small Mexican success, doing us no actual harm but diminishing our prestige materially, might rouse the people against us. Even the line to Monterey was long, the Secretary feared. Taylor evidently had no thorough knowledge of the passes, for he was now preparing to take a very hasty look at a few of them. Besides, it had been Marcy's expectation of late that Wool's column would be drawn back to Monterey; and at the end of the year, as well as earlier, he said he did not wish to occupy territory in advance of that city. Polk appealed in his diary to the General's own opinion that he could not safely advance beyond it. Scott, as well as Marcy and the President, believed the troops were being scattered too much. Officers on the ground also held that view; but such was Taylor's deliberate policy.[13.41]

XIV

SANTA FE

June-September, 1846

[THE STATE OF THINGS IN NEW MEXICO]

Not only Tamaulipas and Chihuahua but New Mexico lay within the scope of the government's war policy, and certain features of the situation made the outlook in that quarter peculiarly inviting.

The province was cut into an eastern and a western section by the Rio Grande, which ran approximately north and south; and usage divided the best settled part of it into the Río Arriba (Upstream) district near Santa Fe, the capital, which lay some twenty miles east of the great river, and the Río Abajo (Downstream) district, which had for its metropolis Albuquerque, a small town on the Rio Grande about seventy-five miles to the southwest. According to a recent census the population was 100,000, of which the greater part belonged in the lower district; and more than half the wealth also was attributed to that section. The caravan trade, which made its way from Independence,[14.1] Missouri, to Santa Fe, Chihuahua, Lagos and even Mexico City, gilded the name of the province, for it had advanced rapidly from the humble beginnings of 1821, and now employed 1200 men, involved a capital of some two millions, and usually paid a net profit of thirty or forty per cent on the goods transported. The favorable climate believed to prevail in New Mexico was an additional source of interest.[14.2]

The political situation appeared singularly promising. In March, 1845, the war department of Mexico admitted publicly that the northern sections of the country were "abandoned and more than abandoned" by the general government. Sensible Mexicans held that the connection of the province with their miserable system involved injury instead of benefit. The people received no protection against the ravages of the Indians. The national troops were a constant menace to the citizens. If a man desired to give his note for $3000, he was compelled to pay eight dollars for stamped paper. The duties and extortions levied upon the caravan merchants increased the price of their goods; and of late the central government had been trying to deprive the provincial authorities of money and the people of comforts by stopping that business entirely.[14.2]

The citizens appeared weary of oppression. They would not pay the taxes. It was found necessary in 1845 to excuse them from one of the most profitable but most annoying imposts. Indifference toward the general government--a natural return for its neglect and its vexations--prevailed, and the continual changes in that government aggravated the lack of patriotism. Indeed, there was more than indifference. A move to follow the example of Texas had been made in 1837, and the idea of joining the United States, which had existed in that year, became so strong by the early months of 1846 that representatives of the province in the national Congress openly avowed it. Finally, a revolution against misgovernment, that had recently occurred in the neighboring state of Sonora, appeared to offer a strong hint.[14.2]

All power, civil and military, lay in the hands of Manuel Armijo, governor and comandante general; and that of itself was an ample ground for insurrection. Born of disreputable parents, this precious adventurer had achieved a career still more disreputable. A man of unusual energy, though now a mountain of flesh, he could assume at will an air of ingenuous affability; could threaten, bluster, brag, intrigue or coax; and when dressed up in his blue frock coat, with blue striped pantaloons, shoulder straps, a red sash, and plenty of gold lace, could look--although at heart only a cunning and cowardly robber--quite impressive. His personal habits were said to be grossly immoral; his only principle was to succeed; and his type of mind, shrewd though low, was indicated by one of his favorite sayings, "It is better to be thought brave than to be so." Such force, cleverness and lack of scruple had naturally made him rich. His family now owned Albuquerque and the neighboring estates. His position and close relations with the priests gave him a firm hold on the ecclesiastical arm; it was believed that an understanding with the savages enabled him to use them against his enemies; and he engaged rather deeply in the American trade. Yet his ambition was not yet satisfied; and he entertained the idea, it would seem, of making the province an independent country.[14.2]

At St. Louis, Missouri, the New Mexican situation was doubtless fairly well understood, and a deep interest in the caravan business existed. The merchants, it was felt when the war became probable, deserved to be protected, and many urged the prompt despatch of an expedition for that purpose. Other arguments for such a step were, that it would forestall Indian troubles on the border, would incline the enemy--by laying open their weak side--to make terms, would encourage the people of New Mexico to rise in our favor, and would secure the key to Chihuahua and California; and in all probability influential men brought these ideas to the President's notice.[14.4]

The occupation of Santa Fe was in fact decided upon as one of the very earliest war measures--primarily for the sake of the traders, but also with a view to the permanent retention of the province. The move was intended to be pacific, however. Polk doubtless expected that no serious opposition, if any at all, would be offered by the people; and there seem to have been hopes that Chihuahua and her sister states could be persuaded by arguments backed with force to let the caravan trade go on despite the war. In that case the burdensome duties imposed at Santa Fe would no longer have had to be paid, and the discrimination in favor of Mexican competitors, that had prevailed there, would have ceased. On May 13, therefore, the governor of Missouri was directed to raise eight companies of mounted troops and two of light artillery for an expedition to New Mexico, and Colonel S. W. Kearny of the First Dragoons was directed to command them.[14.4]

[KEARNY'S MARCH]

So fine an opportunity for adventure appealed instantly to the bold, hardy and energetic young fellows of Missouri, and as early as June 6 volunteers were hurrying into the service at Fort Leavenworth--a square of wooden buildings, with a blockhouse at each corner and a plot of grass in the middle--which crowned a high bluff on the Missouri River about 312 miles from St. Louis; and about 1660 troops were soon assembled at that point. Of Kearny's dragoons there were some 300. The First Regiment of Missouri Mounted Volunteers--which chose Alexander W. Doniphan as colonel--numbered about 860. The artillery, including nearly 250 men, consisted of "Battery A" of St. Louis under Captain Weightman and a company under Captain Fischer, a graduate of the Prussian artillery service, and formed a battalion commanded by Major M. L. Clark, a West Pointer.[14.3] There were also two small companies of volunteer infantry, a St. Louis mounted body of about one hundred called the Laclede Rangers, which Kearny attached to his regulars, about fifty Delaware and Shawnee Indians, and finally, though by no means last in importance, a Roman Catholic priest familiar with the Spanish language.[14.4]

Without lingering to complete the outfit, Kearny sent the command off by sections. June 5 a detachment of the dragoons advanced. By the twenty-eighth all of Doniphan's regiment were on the march for Santa Fe and--none of them cared how much farther; and two days later Weightman's fine brass cannon, gleaming radiantly in the bright sunshine, wheeled into the trail. For several days the troops had to break their way through a rough country, but about fifteen miles south of the Kansas River they struck the Santa Fe road, a broad, well marked, natural highway running toward the southwest.[14.6]

Council Grove, the famous rendezvous of Indians and frontiersmen, was the last place from which a single person could safely return; and now for nearly four weeks not one "stick of timber" was to cheer the eye. After pressing on in the same direction to the Arkansas, the troops left the main trail, marched wearily along the northern bank of the river--ascending about seven feet in each mile--till they were beyond the great bend, and finally, crossing the shallow stream, turned their faces toward Bent's Fort, a protected trading post, which stood near the present site of Las Animas, Colorado, about 650 miles from Fort Leavenworth. Belts had been tightened over and over again by this time. Drinking water that no horse would touch had sickened many a tough rider. Mosquitos and buffalo gnats had tormented the flesh day and night. Faces had been scorched by siroccos, and tongues had swollen with thirst. Many had become so tired that a rattlesnake in the blanket seemed hardly worth minding, and so utterly wretched that in blind fury they sometimes raved and cursed like maniacs. Out of one hundred fine horses belonging to Battery A sixty had perished. Yet in places there had been cool breezes, carpets of brilliant and spicy flowers, great herds of buffalo, curious mirages, and inspiring glimpses of Pike's Peak, the towering outpost of the Rockies.[14.6]

At length on July 29 Kearny escorted by Doniphan's regiment gained the rendezvous, a grassy meadow on the Arkansas about nine miles below the Fort. There within a few days the Army of the West assembled,[14.5] and two additional companies of the dragoons, which had made an average of twenty-eight miles a day from Fort Leavenworth, joined their regiment. Nor were the troops alone. Several merchants had left Independence about the first of May. Notified by order of the government that war had begun, they had stopped here; and the Colonel found under his protection more than four hundred wagons and merchandise worth upwards of a million.[14.6]

Armijo, for his part, had received ample warnings. In March the central government informed him that war might be expected, and authorized him to make preparations for defence. By June 17 news of the coming invasion reached Santa Fe, and nine days later the first caravan of the season confirmed it. Manuel Alvarez, the American consul, endeavored now to persuade Armijo that it would "be better for himself and the people under his government to capitulate, and far preferable" to become Americans than to be citizens of a country so disordered and so impotent as Mexico; but while his advisers and subordinates fancied they could obtain offices under an elective system, and "were rather easily won over," the governor himself probably could not believe that people so long robbed and oppressed would choose the wolf as their shepherd. Besides, he doubtless had some national spirit and some desire to justify his gratuitous title of general. After confirming the news further by a spy, he sent south on July 1 an appeal for aid--representing the Americans as 6000 in number--and began to prepare for defence. A letter from Ugarte, the comandante general of Chihuahua, stating that he could set out on a moment's notice with five hundred cavalry and as many infantry, seemed encouraging, and no doubt Armijo was aware that Durango, too, had been ordered by the authorities at Mexico to aid him.[14.7]

Meanwhile reinforcements for Kearny were gathering in his rear. On the third of June Marcy informed the governor of Missouri that if Sterling Price, then a member of the Missouri legislature, and certain other citizens of the state would raise and organize a thousand mounted men--that is to say, a regiment and a battalion--to follow Kearny promptly, they would be appointed to the chief commands. This method of getting troops aroused considerable opposition among the people, for it ignored the militia system and the aspirations of the militia officers, and many felt that a politician like Price was unfit for the command; but young men were ready to volunteer under any sort of conditions that promised a chance to reach the front, and about the time Kearny left Fort Bent this new force, including artillery under regular officers, was mustered into the service at Fort Leavenworth.[14.8]

At the same time steps were taken to obtain reinforcements of a totally different character. A large number of Mormons, recently driven from Nauvoo, Illinois, had gathered at Council Bluffs, and were planning to settle in California. It was important that feelings of hostility toward this country should not prevail among them, and apparently their assistance, not only on the coast but in New Mexico, might be valuable. Kearny was therefore authorized to accept a body of these emigrants not larger than a quarter of his entire force, and about five hundred of them were enlisted in June and taken to Fort Leavenworth by Captain Allen of the First Dragoons. Allen soon died, but under Lieutenant Smith of the same regiment this party marched for Santa Fe.[14.8]

On July 31 Kearny issued a proclamation, which declared that he was going to New Mexico "for the purpose of seeking union with, and ameliorating the condition of its inhabitants," urged them to follow their usual vocations, and promised that all who should pursue this course would be protected in their civil and religious rights; and the next day he addressed Armijo in the same strain, telling him that resistance would not only be in vain, but would cause the people to suffer, and adding that submission would be greatly for his interest and for theirs.[14.9] Captain Cooke of the dragoons was made the bearer of this communication, and with an escort of twelve picked men he went forward under a white flag.[14.16]

August 1 the "long-legged infantry," who were almost able to outmarch the cavalry, left the rendezvous, and on the following day the so-called army was all in motion. After crossing the Arkansas a little way above the Fort, it soon turned off to the southwest, and followed in general the line of the present Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. Before long the troops found on the right a high range of mountains, thrusting up twin peaks into the region of perpetual snow, while the gleaming wall of the far Rockies came every day nearer; and on the left gazed over wide plains--broken with ridge, plateau or butte--which stretched away toward the east, until one could not say where earth and sky met. Near the present boundary of New Mexico began the ascent of Raton Pass; and the men, winding up the rugged valley, discovered most beautiful flowers. But they were hardly in a condition to enjoy them, for the rations--cut down one half or more--consisted of flour stirred up in water, fried, and eaten with a little pork; and the implacable Kearny, an embodiment of energy and resolution, hurried them along by marches that were almost incredibly hard. What lay ahead nobody knew. It was not even certain that the present scanty rations would hold out. But the watchword was always, Forward; and even the magnificent views at the summit of the Pass, where Raton Mountain upreared a series of castellated pinnacles somewhat like those of the Ichang gorge on the upper Yangtse River, attracted but little attention.[14.16]

[KEARNY'S POLITICAL ACTION]

August 15, at the new and unimportant village of Las Vegas began Kearny's political work. From the flat roof of a house the General--for his commission as brigadier general had now overtaken him--said to the people substantially this: "For some time the United States has considered your country a part of our territory, and we have come to take possession of it. We are among you as friends--not as enemies; as protectors--not as conquerors; for your benefit--not your injury. I absolve you from all allegiance to the Mexican government and to Armijo.[14.10] They have not defended you against the Indians, but the United States will. All who remain peaceably at home shall be safeguarded in person and in property. Their religion also shall be protected. A third of my army are Roman Catholics. I was not brought up in that faith myself, yet I respect your creed, and so does my government. But listen! If any one promises to be quiet and is found in arms against me, I will hang him. Resistance would be useless. There are my soldiers, and many more are coming. You, then, who are in office will now take the oath of allegiance to the United States, and I will support your authority."[14.16]

Tecolote also, at the bottom of the valley, witnessed a scene of this kind; and the next day, crossing the swift Pecos, Kearny followed a similar course at the red adobe town of San Miguel. Here the alcalde said he would rather wait until after the capture of Santa Fe. "It is enough for you to know, Sir, that I have captured your town," was the stern reply. Doubtless, in their muddled way, the people wondered at this first illustration of liberty; but with characteristic politeness, timidity and guile they wrinkled their faces as if pleased. In spite of orders and sentinels the fields of waving corn, full of ears just prime for roasting, suffered a little; but Kearny paid for the damage, and that at least was appreciated.[14.16]

By this time officers sent forward to learn the state of public sentiment at the city of Taos, an important seat of the Pueblo Indians, and at Santa Fe had returned with unwelcome reports, and several American residents had brought warnings of danger. The activity of Mexican spies--kindly treated when captured, and in some cases released at once with friendly messages--proved that Armijo was alert; and on August 14 his reply to the note sent by Cooke, while proposing that Kearny halt and that negotiations be opened, informed the General that the people were rising en masse to defend the province, and that Armijo would place himself at their head.[14.11] Fifteen hundred dragoons had reached or were near Santa Fe, it was reported; and at a natural gateway, cutting a ridge about four hundred feet high, a hostile force was said to be waiting. On hearing this news all the weary men and their drooping steeds came to life. The banners and guidons were unfurled. "To horse!" blared the trumpets; "Trot! Gallop! Charge!" And with sabres glittering under a brilliant sun the troopers dashed round a sharp turn into the pass, while the artillery thundered after them, and the infantry scrambled over the ridge. Not an enemy was found; but the reports agreed that Apache Canyon, some distance farther on, would be stiffly and strongly defended.[14.16]

This was extremely serious news. To march nearly 2000 soldiers eight or nine hundred miles through a wilderness involved fearful risks, and the expedition was now at the breaking point. The men had become travel-worn and half-starved; many, if not all, were suffering from the effects of the water, loaded with acrid salts, which they had been drinking; the horses generally were on their last legs; and hundreds of horses and mules actually could not march another day. It had already been necessary to attach cattle to the ammunition wagons, and the cannon were now dragged along with extreme difficulty. The provisions had practically been exhausted. And here lay a defile seven or eight miles long, guarded by several thousand militia, a force of regulars and considerable artillery.[14.16]

[CROSS-CURRENTS]

As these facts indicate, the New Mexicans did not seem willing to justify Polk's expectations. Whatever Armijo's own opinions, public sentiment appeared to demand action. There existed a good deal of warlike spirit in the province, and naturally the prospect of an armed invasion excited resentment. The ignorant and suspicious people were easily persuaded, after their hard experience under Mexican rule, that the Americans were coming to take their property; and the priests added, that besides abusing the women these ruffians would brand them on the cheek as mules were branded. August 8 the governor therefore issued a proclamation, summoning the people to take up arms in the cause of "sacred independence"; the prefect of Taos and presumably other local authorities followed his example; and several thousand of the people,[14.12] Mexicans or Indians, many of them armed only with bows and arrows, clubs or lariats, but all apparently eager to fight, were placed at Apache Canyon under Colonel Manuel Pino.[14.16]

At this juncture, however, Cooke, a Chihuahua merchant named González and one James Magoffin, a jovial and rich Kentucky Irishman, prominent in the caravan trade and long a resident of Chihuahua, arrived at Santa Fe. Magoffin had been introduced by Senator Benton to Polk, and after some talk had consented to act as a sort of informal commissioner to Armijo in the interest of peaceful relations. He now argued, according to the very reasonable statement of the governor, that American rule would enhance the price of real estate and make New Mexico prosperous.[14.13] Undoubtedly he dwelt upon the impossibility of successful resistance; and probably he suggested--though Armijo's avarice required no hint on this point--that should cordial feelings prevail, the duties on the approaching merchandise, a fortune in themselves, would be paid at the Santa Fe customhouse, where the governor could handle them.[14.16]

On the other hand, no aid was coming from the south. The 1500 dragoons were not even phantasmal. Ugarte's cheering statement that he could bring 1000 men to New Mexico had no doubt been intended, and no doubt was understood, as mere stimulation. According to the latest returns, New Mexico, Chihuahua, Durango and Zacatecas together had less than 2000 poorly equipped and poorly subsisted troops, the greater part of whom were the scattered and almost worthless Presidials. The general government, when officially notified of the coming invasion, merely issued a few nugatory orders and expressed "profound regret." The people's loyalty to the government and especially to the governor appeared uncertain. Armijo understood that he was not a general, and no doubt understood also that he was a coward; and for all these reasons he decided--though wavering to the end--that hostilities were to be avoided, should that be possible. Diego Archuleta also, one of the chief military officers, was approached by Magoffin, and under genial manipulation proved to be much less bloodthirsty than had been supposed. Consul Alvarez, it will be recalled, had previously found the subordinate officials tractable, and it may safely be supposed in general that very little desire to fight the Americans existed in the governor's entourage.[14.16]

Pino seems to have felt differently, however, and when Armijo was on the road to the canyon, August 16, with two or three hundred soldiers and about eight guns, he received a message from that officer threatening to come and fetch him, if he did not join the militia. This augured ill, and the augury proved correct. The people demanded to be led against the enemy, but Armijo said the Americans were too strong. Pino offered to attack if he could have a part of the regulars, but the governor was determined to keep them all for his own protection. Then he was called a traitor, and retaliated by calling the people disloyal and cowardly. They threatened him; and he, more afraid of his own army than of Kearny's, urged the militia to go home and let the regulars do the fighting. Threatened again, he forbade the people to come near his camp; and finally he turned his cannon in their direction.[14.16]

In reality the people themselves had no great hunger for battle. Besides detesting Armijo, they were doubtless influenced by much lurking anti-Mexican or pro-American sentiment; had probably learned to question the diabolical intentions attributed to Kearny's troops; were fully aware in a general way of American superiority; and felt deeply impressed by tales about the great number of the invaders, their long train, their many guns, their enormous horses and the terrible men themselves--an army, in short, such as they had never dreamed of before. The quarrels of their leaders both disgusted and disheartened them; and they began to think, too, of their lives, families and property. August 17, therefore, they broke up, and went every man his own way. A council of the regular officers favored retreat. The Presidials deserted or were dismissed; the cannon were spiked and left in the woods; and in about two weeks Armijo--though offered personal security and freedom at Santa Fe--turned up at Chihuahua with ninety dragoons. He had proved not exactly a traitor, perhaps;[14.14] but certainly not a patriot, and still more certainly, if that was possible, not a hero.[14.16]

[OPPOSITION COLLAPSES]

The result was that on August 17 a fat alcalde rode up to Kearny on his mule at full speed, and with a roar of laughter cried, "Armijo and his troops have gone to hell and the Canyon is all clear." The news was confirmed; and early the next day, instead of turning the pass by a difficult and circuitous route, of which the General had learned, the Americans advanced boldly, though still with caution, on their last hard march--twenty-eight miles to Santa Fe. Just beyond the defile, at a position that might easily have been made impregnable, were found light breastworks, a sort of abatis, a spiked cannon, and tracks which guided some of Clark's men to the rest of Armijo's ordnance. At three o'clock, after receiving a note of welcome from Vigil, the acting governor, General Kearny, riding at the head of the troops, came in sight of the town. Neither man nor beast had been allowed to stop for food that day, and the column dragged heavily; but the rear was up three hours later, and then, leaving the artillery on a commanding hill, the rest of the troops eagerly entered Santa Fe.[14.16]

Alas, the Mecca of so many dreams and hopes was promptly rechristened "Mud Town," for it proved to be only a straggling collection of adobe hovels lying in the flat sandy valley of a mountain stream, where a main line of the Rockies came to an end amidst a gray-brown, dry and barren country.[14.15] Even the palace, a long one-story adobe building, had no floor; and after partaking of refreshments, addressing the people in his usual tone of mingled courtesy and firmness, and listening to the salute of thirteen guns which greeted the raising of the Stars and Stripes, Kearny had to sleep on its carpeted ground, while most of the troops, too exhausted to eat, camped on the hill.[14.16]

[NEW MEXICO OCCUPIED]

The next day Kearny delivered a more formal address, but the style of his remarks was the same as before; and his kindly, simple, determined manner produced an excellent impression. Thundering vivas answered him; and then Vigil, basing his remarks on the conviction that "no one in the world has resisted successfully the power of the stronger," expressed a joyless yet hopeful acceptance of the situation. We now belong to a great and powerful nation, he said, and we are assured that a prosperous future awaits us. Such of the officials as desired to retain their places then took an oath of allegiance to the United States. The following day chiefs of the Pueblo Indians came in and submitted, and on the twenty-second Kearny issued a proclamation. This embodied the same assurances and warnings as the addresses, but it added that western as well as eastern New Mexico was to be occupied, that all the inhabitants were claimed as American citizens, and that a free government would be established as soon as possible.[14.17]

By this time a fort, named after Marcy, had begun to be visible on the hill. The site was not well adapted for a regular work; but as it commanded the town perfectly at a distance of about six hundred yards from the palace, and was not commanded by any eminence, it served the purpose admirably. One point, however, still caused anxiety. There seemed to be danger that the Río Abajo district, supported by troops from the south, might rise against the invaders; and reports came that pointed toward precisely such an event. Kearny went down the river, therefore, on September 2 with seven hundred men. But he found no enemy. The Americans were everywhere well received and entertained. Ugarte had indeed left El Paso del Norte for New Mexico on August 10, but his troops numbered only four hundred; they had little ammunition and no artillery; Armijo discouraged him by saying that 6000 Americans were on their way south; the prospect of marching eighteen days--a part of the time in a desert--was not inviting; and so the expedition went home. Kearny returned to Santa Fe on September 11, and about noon on the twenty-fifth he set out with his effective dragoons for California, dreaming of a new conquest.[14.17]

XV

CHIHUAHUA

December, 1846-May, 1847

Foreseeing that more troops would go to Santa Fe than New Mexico would require, Kearny had written to General Wool on August 22 that he would have the surplus join that officer at Chihuahua,[15.1] and shortly before marching for the coast he gave orders that Price with his command, Clark's artillery, a part of the Laclede Rangers and the two companies of infantry should hold Santa Fe, and that Doniphan's men should execute this plan; but on October 6 an order was received from him that Doniphan should first ensure the security of the people by settling matters with the Eutaw and Navajo Indians. September 28 Price arrived, and by the twentieth of October, 1220 new Missouri volunteers and 500 Mormons were on the scene. The Eutaws had now been reduced, it was believed, to a peaceable frame of mind; and while the warlike and superior Navajos proved a harder problem, a remarkable seven-weeks campaign amid snow and mountains, which ended with a treaty, seemed to ensure their good behavior. The caravans bound for Chihuahua, becoming alarmed, had now stopped at Valverde, a point not far south of the wretched settlement named Socorro, and begged for protection. Without losing time, therefore, Doniphan concentrated his force at Valverde by December 12, and with 856 effectives, all mounted and armed with rifles, prepared to set out on a long, adventurous march into an unknown and hostile country.[15.6]

[DONIPHAN AND HIS MEN]

No less extraordinary than such an undertaking were the commander and the men who undertook it. Doniphan was a frontier lawyer, entirely unacquainted with military science, but a born leader. When in Washington during the civil war he stood back to back with Abraham Lincoln, it is said, and overtopped that son of Anak by half an inch. The only distinguished man he had ever met that "came up to the advertisement," was the President's comment. High cheek bones, a prominent chin, thinnish and tightly closed lips, a mop of carroty hair parted well down on the left, a beard of the same hue under his chin, small, deep-set eyes, a strongly built nose, spare cheeks and a ruddy complexion told of enterprise, daring, endurance, wary judgment and kind, sincere impulses. In council he was shrewd and in danger fearless, with always a twinkle in his eye, a smile on his lips, and a cheering, well-timed pleasantry on his tongue.[15.6]

His men, recruited from the rural districts, had felt they were scorned a little by the St. Louis contingent, and had vowed to show them what "country boys" were made of; but they proposed to do it in their own way. While the city men had uniforms and military discipline, the riflemen neither had nor wanted such embarrassments. As every officer was a man of their own choice, they felt at liberty to choose also how far to respect and obey him. Doniphan, who loved his "boys" like a father, was loved in return, and they were ready to do anything for him; but a minor authority who meddled with their reserved rights, whatever these might happen to be, was likely to hear some vigorous cursing. Any form of manly dissipation was to their taste, as a rule; and they despised all carefulness, all order, all restraint. Yet they were "good fellows" at heart, and as full of fight as gamecocks; and now--on half rations, no salt and no pay[15.2]--they felt ready for whatever Mexico could offer.[15.6]

At Valverde Doniphan heard that forces were coming from Chihuahua to defend El Paso, some two hundred miles from Socorro, and sent an order to Santa Fe that Major Clark with six guns and one hundred men should march as soon as possible to his assistance; but without waiting for him the command advanced in three sections on the fourteenth, sixteenth and eighteenth of December. Below Valverde the Rio Grande makes a great bend towards the west, and runs through a wild, mountainous region; and hence travellers bound for the south left it on the right. Adopting this course, the Americans now marched for ninety or ninety-five miles through the dreaded Jornada del Muerto (Dead Man's Journey), where they found no settlements except some prairie-dog towns, little vegetation except sage brush, and no water at all. At the coldest season of the year, when sentries at Santa Fe were having their feet frozen, to make such a march at an elevation of more than a mile and a quarter without fuel or tents[15.3] was clearly a good beginning. At Dona Ana, the only settlement between El Paso--sixty or sixty-five miles farther on--and Valverde, the straggling command was supposed to concentrate; but the concentration seemed rather nominal. Dirty, unshaven and ragged, the troops marched almost as they pleased. They were determined to survive, go ahead and fight, but little else appeared to them requisite. It was now reported that seven hundred soldiers and six guns were awaiting them at El Paso; but on December 23 the command moved on.[15.6]

The likelihood of invasion from the north had long been foreseen by the authorities of Chihuahua, and the expediency of making a stand at the threshold was obvious. But the citizens of El Paso, the border town, who were practical, industrious and thrifty people, had been greatly influenced, like those of New Mexico, by interest in the caravan business, contact with American traders and wagoners, and acquaintance with the ideas and methods of the United States. Almost openly, men said the town would thrive more under American rule, argued that it was the intention of the government at Mexico to sacrifice the people for the aggrandizement of its partisans and the privileged classes, pointed out that no substantial forces had come north, and asserted that what soldiers had arrived were under orders to withdraw without fighting, and leave the citizens to be punished for their loyalty.[15.6]

Public spirit fell to a low ebb, and there it remained. No one thought it endangered health to shout "Viva México!" But it was believed by many that in a community so honeycombed with treason, active, determined efforts in her cause would be liable to bring on an attack of cold steel or lead in some dorsal area; and when the governor of Chihuahua sent the prefect instructions on September 19 to retire, on the approach of the enemy, with all the armed forces, cattle and provisions, collect the resources of the district, and fight stubbornly on the guerilla system, no intention of obeying this order could be observed. October 12 an expedition designed to forestall invasion set out for the north; but at Dona Ana some of the troops--covertly stimulated by officers--became insubordinate; the commander understood public sentiment well enough to take their side; the whole body returned at full speed to El Paso; and the prefect dared not, or did not wish, to discipline anybody.[15.6]

There were now on the scene and in arms about four hundred and fifty troops and apparently about seven hundred National Guards with four guns.[15.4] In general two accepted schools of thought divided the soldiery. Some were for not fighting hard, and some--including most of the Presidials and National Guards--for not fighting at all; while the few and unpopular zealots felt paralyzed by a want of confidence. Colonel Cuylti, the commander, belonged to the second school of thought; and on the evening before he was to move against Doniphan, whose march had been reported about a week before, he fell sick with a subjective disability officially diagnosed as brain fever, and set out for Chihuahua with his accommodating surgeon. Lieutenant Colonel Vidal succeeded to the command and also, it would seem, to the disability, for after proclaiming martial law and pitching his camp some three miles from El Paso, he concluded to halt. The American van, described as consisting of about three hundred straggling countrymen in tatters without artillery, could be surrounded and lanced like so many rabbits, he said; but he was not personally in the mood for sport, and hence conceded this pleasure to the second in command, Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Ponce de León, assigning to him at least five hundred men[15.5] and a 2-pound howitzer.[15.6]

[SKIRMISH AT EL BRAZITO]

At about three o'clock on Christmas afternoon Doniphan, with less than five hundred of his careless, confident volunteers, reached a level spot on the eastern bank of the Rio Grande named Temascalitos, though often called El Brazito, approximately thirty miles from El Paso. Pickets and sentries--but not supper--being superfluous, the men scattered in search of water, fuel and other conveniences. Mexican scouts were observing their operations; but, strong in conscious rectitude, the Missourians neither knew nor cared what the enemy were about. Suddenly armed men could be seen in fine order on a hill about half a mile distant. The rally was sounded. The volunteers rushed for their arms, and with all speed they were loosely formed as a line of infantry, bent back at the extremities toward the river, and resting at the left on the wagons of the caravan.[15.6]

With graceful consideration Ponce gave them time by sending a lieutenant with a black flag to demand that Doniphan should present himself. Otherwise, added the messenger, we shall charge and take him, neither giving nor asking quarter. "Charge and be damned!" was of course the reply; and the Mexicans then advanced, opening fire at about four hundred yards from our line. Several volleys were delivered while the Americans, either lying down or standing firmly with cocked rifles, withheld their fire. But the powder of the Mexicans was mostly bad, they shot high, and their little gun was mismanaged.[15.6]

By this time they had come within easy range. At command the American volunteers now fired with great effect, and a flanking movement against the wagons was received with equal spirit by the traders and their men. Evidently there was a mistake. These fellows were not rabbits; and the Presidials and El Paso militia, candidly recognizing Vidal's blunder, retired in disorder, compelling the rest of the body to do the same. Speed now compensated for any possible want of courage; and a party of fifteen or twenty mounted Americans, who pursued the enemy for miles, could not bring any of them to a stand. Doniphan's loss amounted to seven men slightly wounded; that of the Mexicans to a howitzer captured and perhaps a hundred men killed or wounded; and this farcical brush, lasting thirty or forty minutes in all, has figured in American annals as the "battle" of Brazito.[15.6]

[EL PASO OCCUPIED]

The Mexican troops now evacuated the district; the National Guards disbanded; and presently a humble deputation from El Paso was explaining to Doniphan that arms had been taken up by the citizens under compulsion. Two days after the skirmish, therefore, amid a general appearance of satisfaction, he and his rough troopers concluded they had reached paradise. Along the Rio Grande, mostly on the southern side, ten or twelve thousand people occupied settlements extending downstream for many miles. Above, there was a dam; and artificial streams from that point not only irrigated the rich fields and vineyards, but watered the orchards, in which many of the houses were buried, and freshened the long and regular streets, which not only were shaded by lines of trees full of lively and tuneful birds, but were kept neat by daily sweeping. To drill, practice twice a day at the targets, and feast on the abundant fruits in such a place was a most agreeable change from the Jornada del Muerto.[15.11]

El Paso did not prove, however, to be exactly a paradise. Unlimited self-indulgence led to considerable sickness, and several men died. It led also to disorders and to outrages on the people, and before long two lieutenants, both intoxicated, fought with dirks. Moreover it was now learned that Wool had not gone to Chihuahua,[15.7] that great preparations for resistance were making there, and that a serious insurrection--purposely exaggerated by the Mexican reports--had occurred in the rear.[15.8] The boldest appeared therefore to be the wisest course--to push forward, and conquer or die.[15.9] But without cannon only the second alternative was possible, and the artillery did not arrive. Price was in fact extremely unwilling to part with it, and owing to this and other difficulties Clark was unable to set out for El Paso until January 10. Then his men encountered even more painful hardships than Doniphan's had undergone, for they had to struggle with snow--to say nothing of almost perishing with hunger, and being nearly buried in a sandstorm; and it was not until February 5 that men, guns and wagons joined the impatient command.[15.11]

Three days afterwards the belated expedition set out on its march for Chihuahua--nearly three hundred miles distant--with 924 effective soldiers, besides about three hundred traders and teamsters, who were sworn into the service by Doniphan and elected a merchant named Owens as their major. About seven hundred of the troops belonged to the First Missouri regiment, about one hundred to Clark's artillery, and about one hundred to a body named the Chihuahua Rangers, made up at Santa Fe.[15.10] There were four 6-pounders, two 12-pound howitzers, and about 315 goods-wagons besides the wagons belonging to the companies and the commissary department, each with its quota of attendants; and as the column, with every banner unfurled, wound into the distance as far as the eye could see, it made a gallant and picturesque sight. It was exposed to a rear attack from Sonora; but that state, while alive to the opportunity, had not the means to take advantage of it.[15.11]

Troubles enough presented themselves, however. The country was bare and monotonous, producing little except the crooked mezquite and an occasional willow. A desert sixty-five miles wide and another nearly as large had to be crossed. Heat alternated with cold, and one day it was necessary to kindle fires repeatedly to warm benumbed limbs. Tents were blown down by storms. More than once no fuel and no water could be had for days. Antelopes and hares could frequently be seen; but the tarantulas, rattlesnakes and copperheads were far more numerous, and far more willing to be intimate. One day, when the army was in camp at a lake, the grass took fire, and in an instant a small flame went scudding off, burning a narrow trail. Soon this was driven by a whirlwind up the mountain side, spreading into a vast blaze; and then, gathering force, it rolled back upon the camp like a tidal wave. By arts known to the plainsman almost everything was saved; but with a fearful roaring and crackling a surge of fire swept over the encampment, proving how great the danger had been.[15.11]

The state of things in the country farther south could not easily be ascertained, for the authorities at Chihuahua had cut off all communication with the north; but there were hostile spies, and some of them, taken prisoners, had to give instead of obtaining information. About seven hundred Mexican cavalry--said to be twice as many--were discovered in front looking for a favorable opening, which they did not find. At length, crossing a handsome plain on February 27, the expedition came at nightfall to the hacienda of El Sauz, and learned that strong fortifications had been erected at the Sacramento River, fifteen miles farther on. That was the next watering-place, and evidently it would have to be fought for; so a halt was made and a plan devised. "Cheer up, boys," said Doniphan with a twinkle; "To-morrow evening I intend to have supper with the Mexicans on the banks of a beautiful spring."[15.11]

[THE SITUATION AT CHIHUAHUA]

As early as August, 1846, Chihuahua had expected this visit; and the governor, saying that Kearny's army had occupied New Mexico "as easily as it would have pitched its tents in the desert," seemed ready to let the operation be repeated in his own state. Perhaps he was merely weak, but the same pro-American influences of a commercial nature that we have observed at El Paso and Santa Fe were rife about him, and there was also much sentiment in favor of establishing the northern provinces as an independent republic under the protection of the United States. Over against these ideas, however, and possibly because of them, existed a peculiarly intense hatred of us, exasperated now by the loss of New Mexico and the fear of American outrages.[15.13]

Near the end of August the governor was forced out, and Angel Trias, an active, ambitious man, rich, and most unfriendly to the Americans, took his place; and the great body of the citizens, either anxious to defend themselves against invasion or dreading to be thought disloyal, rallied about him. The central government became interested, ordered several northern states to aid Chihuahua, and instructed Reyes, comandante general of Zacatecas, to assume the defence of New Mexico, Chihuahua and Durango. But embarrassments then arose; delays ensued; and Santa Anna, according to his policy of concentrating the military strength of the country under his own command and disregarding non-essential territory, frowned upon all national efforts to defend the northern frontier. It was now November; and the government, appointing the unpopular Heredia comandante general at Chihuahua, yielded to Santa Anna's views.[15.13]

Trias, however, did not abandon hope. The resources of the state were scanty indeed. The effective colonial method of protecting the border had long since been given up, and Indian raids, beginning about 1831, had fast impoverished the haciendas. During the past year, perhaps because the savages believed the Mexican troops would be required for the war, these incursions had been worse than ever before. A single party of Comanches had numbered more than eight hundred. It was indispensable, therefore, to employ some of the military forces in the protection of the settlements; but more than 10,000 men were enrolled in the National Guard, and Trias felt sure that Chihuahua state was inherently strong enough to defeat Doniphan, whose approach was duly reported.[15.13]

The chief needs were money and armament. Artillery had been practically unknown in that region, but it was found possible to cast and mount a number of pieces, and infantry soldiers learned to use them. Arms were gathered and repaired; ammunition and clothing were manufactured; and by dint of local borrowing the expenses were met. Santa Anna finally had 255 men sent from Durango; and in the end nearly 1200 mounted troops (many of them Presidials), some 1500 infantry including about seventy regulars of the Seventh Regiment, 119 artillery, probably more than 1000 rancheros armed with long knives (machetes) and rude lances, ten brass cannon ranging from 4-pounders to 9-pounders, and nine musketoons on carriages appear to have been assembled.[15.12] The men were enthusiastic and eagerly obedient, and the leaders--Heredia for chief and Trias as second in command--felt proud of their army. As for the Brazito affair, which had caused much discouragement, it seemed now like a bad dream.[15.13]

[THE SACRAMENTO POSITION]

February 10 a portly, handsome officer arrived at Chihuahua. This was General García Conde, and the next day he and the other chiefs, after reconnoitring the pass at the Sacramento River, fifteen or eighteen miles to the north, decided to make a stand at that point. It was a wise decision. The stream, running here toward the east, was crossed at a ford by the route from El Paso, which had a north and south direction. Rather more than two miles north of the river and approximately parallel with it, there was a broad watercourse, now dry and sandy, known as the Arroyo Seco, which after crossing the El Paso highway continued in its easterly course about a mile and a half, turned then toward the south, and joined the river about a mile and a half below the ford. Along the northern bank of the Arroyo lay a road, which extended on the eastern side of the highway to the junction of this watercourse with the Sacramento, while on the western side, bending toward the south, it crossed that river three miles or so above the ford, passed the hacienda of El Torreón, penetrated a defile in the steep and rocky foothills thrust out here by the western cordillera, and rejoined the highway about six miles farther on toward Chihuahua. A triangular block of rugged hills lay thus between this road, the highway and the river, the northeastern corner of which (called Sacramento Hill) almost reached the solid adobe buildings of Sacramento hacienda near the ford.[15.13]

Between the river and the Arroyo lay elevated ground cut straight across by the highway. The portion west of the highway was a fairly smooth plateau ascending very gently toward the western cordillera, but the other part rose immediately east of the highway about fifty feet, and formed--roughly speaking--a square one and a half miles on a side, with a broad, smooth hollow in the middle that debouched at the southeastern corner toward the Sacramento, and a dominating hill called the Cerro Frijoles at the northeastern corner, toward which the square sloped up. On the north and west edges of the square the Mexicans constructed a series of well-planned and well-executed redoubts alternating with breastworks--which extended from Cerro Frijoles at the northeast to what we may call Fort N at the southwest--supplemented near the ford with fortifications on both banks of the river, and finally with a redoubt halfway up Sacramento Hill; and these works commanded perfectly the highway, the Arroyo road and the valley of the river. The Torreón route seemed impracticable for the American wagons, but even here fortifications were erected; and still others guarded the Arroyo near its junction with the Sacramento. The principal camp lay in the hollow of the square, which not only protected the troops but concealed both their numbers and their movements.[15.13]

In a word, the position consisted essentially of a tongue of land crossed near its elevated tip by the El Paso highway, with the Sacramento River and the Arroyo Seco on its edges, a series of fortifications round its tip, and an answering fortification beyond the river on a hill. It seemed to bar the way of the Americans completely. The Mexicans felt sure that it did so, and on the evening of February 27, jubilant and boastful, they even talked of recovering New Mexico. Anyhow these presumptuous and contemptible Yankees were to be cut up, and the booty would include a caravan worth a million. Yet influential Chihuahuans had a financial interest in that caravan,[15.13] and one may be sure they were not asleep.[15.14]

[THE BATTLE OF SACRAMENTO]

Next morning the Americans awoke early. Already the horses had been carefully inured to explosions of powder. Now swords were filed, rifles loaded afresh, straps tested, and even the linch-pins of the wagons inspected; and by daybreak the command set out. To make it compact, ready for attack from any quarter and perplexing to hostile observers, the wagons were formed in four well-separated columns of about one hundred each; the artillery and most of the troops marched between these columns, and the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson--regarded as proper cavalry and not simply mounted men--rode in front as advance guard and screen; and in this formation, with banners and guidons flaunting to impress the enemy, it rolled forward through a valley about four miles wide, bounded on each hand by a massive, barren cordillera,[15.15] until at about half-past one the troops, coming in sight of the Mexican works, noticed a quick, sharp flash there: the Mexican cavalry drawing their sabres.[15.17]

Doniphan and his principal officers now galloped ahead, and at a distance of two or three miles reconnoitred most carefully with glasses the Mexican position. It looked impregnable; and when the command was about a mile and a half distant from it, the Colonel--first ordering his cavalry screen to keep on advancing--turned the main body sharply to the right, intending to cross the Arroyo Seco higher up, and gain the plateau there. It was a brilliant scheme but perilous. Good troops, not encumbered with artillery or baggage, might undertake such a manoeuvre even in the face of the enemy, but with four hundred wagons, most of them extremely heavy, it seemed impossible for untrained volunteers to cross the Arroyo, and mount the high bank of the plateau; yet not only was it a chief part of the soldiers' business to protect the wagons, but it looked as if the wagons might soon be needed to protect the soldiers. Hence this desperate attempt had to be made. Heredia observed it immediately; and, concluding that the Americans were aiming, as a last hope, to avoid his works and follow the Torreón route, he instructed García Conde, the chief cavalry officer, to hold them in check until the artillery and infantry could arrive and finish them.[15.17]

But these Americans were no ordinary men; and while they had little fear of death, it was their belief that defeat would mean dungeons and torture. After marching for some distance with all possible speed up the Arroyo road, they stopped at the point selected. Instantly shovels, pickaxes, crowbars and ropes were out of the supply wagon, and for a few moments the sand flew as if electrified. Then the drivers yelled like Apaches; the mules were stimulated by every art known to drivers; and the swaying wagons headed for the ravine. At the brink many of the frightened animals, twisting their necks back till they almost broke, stopped short; but the men pushed them along, and down they all plunged, floundering, biting and kicking. Across the deep, sandy bottom they were driven or dragged amid shouts, curses and "hell let loose," as a soldier put it; and then came the real struggle--the opposite ascent, forty or fifty feet high. Wild with excitement, pain and fright, the animals exerted every nerve, scrambling, jumping, rearing and panting; the teamsters yelled and flogged; and the soldiers tugged and lifted at the wheels, or pulled with hundreds of ropes. In a few minutes, as it seemed, the incredible was done, and the command, forming on the plateau as before, advanced. Already the Mexican horse were dashing on, brandishing their lances in the sun, fluttering their bright pennons, and waving a black flag decorated with a skull and crossbones; but, as Doniphan did not appear to be making for El Torréon, they concluded to halt, and let the infantry and artillery overtake them.[15.17]

It was now a little before three o'clock, and when enough ground had been gained so that the traders and teamsters could make the caravan into a fort, Major Clark's trumpeter sounded "Trot!" and Battery A emerged from the masking wagons. "Form battery, action front, load and fire at will!" rang out Weightman's clear voice; and at a range of about half a mile solid shot, chain-shot and shells, perfectly aimed, saluted the lancers, who had never listened to such music before. Three rounds, and they broke. With great efforts they were rallied, but the fourth round sent them flying to the camp; and Ponce de Léon, the hero of El Brazito, who had led the advance, also led the flight. The infantry, now exposed to the American fire, caught the panic, and at the sound of the cannon-balls men crouched or lay down.[15.17]

An artillery duel followed. Most of the Mexican projectiles, falling short and bounding once or twice, lost enough velocity to become visible, and the Americans--laughing till the tears furrowed their dusty cheeks--quickly became expert in dodging them. After a time, however, the Mexicans discontinued their fire; and Doniphan, as the last of the wagons had come up, did the same, wishing to form again and advance. Heredia now reoccupied his works; but the original defensive attitude could but very imperfectly be resumed, and the former confidence was gone. The whole plan of the battle had been blown to pieces, it was seen. The splendid fortifications now meant very little; the boasted cavalry were demoralized; the prospect of plundering the wagons had vanished, and the Brazito rout became a fact once more. Heredia ordered two guns to occupy the fort on Sacramento Hill, and rake the Americans from that elevated point; and several other pieces went there without orders, abandoning the redoubts. A great portion of the infantry leaked away, and soon Heredia did the same.[15.17]

The Americans felt correspondingly elated; and, obliquing toward the right in order to avoid the principal mass of the works and approach the ford, they moved on toward Forts N and O, into which Trias, observing their approach, now threw the best of his troops--the regular infantry and a part of the Second Durango squadron. "Storm the fort, storm the fort!" shouted the Americans; and at the proper distance Weightman and the howitzer section were ordered to charge the work at N, supported by the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson.[15.16] This order failed to reach Parsons and Hudson, but Reid and others advanced all the same. Unfortunately a deep gully was soon encountered in front of the fort, and the assailants found themselves at a loss. With a few backers Major Owens, who seems to have desired to die, rushed across, emptied his pistols into the midst of the enemy, and fell. Still others dismounted and skirmished. The howitzers, galloping to the left, succeeded in turning the gully, and unlimbered within fifty yards of the enemy, while a part of Reid's troopers, now supported by Hudson's, did the same, and then charged at O. Entrance to the fort was gained.[15.17]

But the enemy there and in the adjacent breastworks, proved too strong, and the Americans, veering again to the left, passed along the front of the fortifications, drawing their fire and shooting with some effect, but discovering no place for a serious blow. The fall of Owens, who was supposed by the Mexicans to be our leader, and the failure of the attack upon the fort encouraged the enemy. Trias and García Conde managed to rally some lancers for a charge, and artillerymen with two guns prepared to follow them. Before such odds a few of our howitzer force gave way.[15.17]

The rest did not. A round of canister scattered the lancers, and then a large body of Americans, rushing in at a gallop, threw themselves from their horses. Parsons' and Hudson's men joined them, and all pressed up the slope of O together, firing at will. The Mexicans learned quickly not to show their heads. Raising their muskets above the parapets at arm's length and blazing away without effect, they soon used up their ammunition. By this time the Americans, bravely aided by the howitzers, were near their goal. Rifles were dropped. A rush was made. "With a whoop and a yell and a plunge," wrote a soldier, "we were over into their fort, man to man, grappling in a merciless fray, neither giving nor receiving quarter." Six-shooters, knives and even stones were made to serve, and in a moment the fort was taken.[15.17]

Meantime Clark's guns had repulsed a body of cavalry that were making for the wagons, and then, in coöperation with Parsons and the force of dismounted troopers, he silenced and captured the works north of Fort O, while other troops took N, went down into the valley, and occupied the fortifications near the river. It was now five o'clock, and the battle had been gained. Yet not quite. The guns on Sacramento Hill, where many of the Mexican infantry and cavalry had taken refuge, were annoying, even though aimed so high as to do no actual harm; and Clark turned some pieces in that direction. The range was 1225 yards; but the first shot dismounted a cannon, and, as a soldier remarked, every shell knew its place. Soon Weightman took the howitzers across the river. A part of the Americans flanked the redoubt on one side by scaling the mountain, and then a wild gallop up the road on the other side to its rear ended the fighting. Pursuit followed, but under the first beams of the moon Doniphan's command re-assembled on the field of victory. Not a man had lost his life except Owens, and only five had been wounded. Of the Mexicans three hundred had been killed, it was thought, and an equal number wounded. Forty at least were captured, and also great numbers of horses, mules, sheep and cattle, and quantities of provisions and ammunition.[15.17]

[CHIHUAHUA TAKEN]

Further resistance was out of the question, for the Mexican army scattered, and the Presidials and National Guards fled to their homes;[15.18] and the next day Chihuahua, a city of about 14,000 inhabitants, was peaceably occupied. Obviously, however, this triumph did not end the difficulties of the Americans. To remain in the enemy's country with no prospect of reinforcement was perilous, yet the traders and their merchandise could not be left without protection, and the Mexicans were said to be in great force near Saltillo. Doniphan therefore undertook to make an arrangement with the state and city authorities that would free him from responsibility. But the negotiations failed, for while the officials did not refuse protection, they would not promise to remain neutral during the war, as Doniphan insisted; and Heredia proved no less obstinate.[15.19]

Doniphan then determined to retaliate and also appeal to their fears by marching for Durango, and by capturing on his way the town of El Parral, where Heredia and the state government had taken refuge. April 5, leaving about three hundred men to protect the merchants, he set out with the rest of his command, and in three days made fifty miles. Then he received notice that large Mexican forces were approaching, and at once retraced his steps. Concluding soon, however, that Doniphan had been hoaxed and no Mexicans were coming, the men grew impatient. Their term of service was to end on May 31; and as they had been poorly fed nearly all of the time, and for nine months had received no money from the government, they naturally felt dissatisfied.[15.19]

Doniphan seems to have renewed his negotiations, therefore, with the state authorities; but as large quantities of the merchandise had already been sold regularly or smuggled into circulation under the cover of night, he doubtless cared less about the matter than before. A Missouri trader named John Collins, who had undertaken with a party of thirteen fearless men to reach Wool and obtain instructions, returned on April 23 from his daring journey of more than a thousand miles, and in two sections the command set out for Saltillo a few days later. May 21, after a series of hardships and perils, a certain amount of lawlessness, and a little fighting with the Indians, they arrived near that point.[15.20] The next day Wool reviewed them. In honor of the occasion they tried to improve their appearance, but it still suggested a classic line, "The beggars have come to town." Some were dressed like the Mexicans and some like the Comanches, and all were described by their commander as "ragged."[15.21]

A few days later they were greeted by Taylor at Monterey; and finally, after passing down the Rio Grande and sailing to New Orleans, they regained Missouri, where they had for rewards a speech of congratulations from Senator Benton, the unstinted admiration of their fellow-citizens, a series of banquets and barbecues, and the consciousness of having aided certain American, Mexican and European traders to dispose of their wares. They had, however, done more than promote commerce. They had built a large stone into the edifice of American prestige in Mexico, and had gained for themselves a notable place in military history.[15.21]

XVI

THE CALIFORNIA QUESTION

1836-1846

Under Mexican rule California, the Golden West, was anything but golden. It was poor, shiftless and pitiful; unprotected, undeveloped, unenlightened, unconsidered; helpless and almost hopeless. Although the province extended from the Pacific to the Rocky Mountains, only a strip some fifty miles wide was occupied by white men, and but a small part of that fraction consisted of farms regularly owned. The famous missions, wrecked by the Mexican government, lay in ruins. In ten degrees of latitude there was but one considerable seaport, Monterey, a village of about one hundred small houses; and the only other sizable town, Los Angeles, contained some 1500 persons, with perhaps an equal number in places depending upon it. The total population in 1845 amounted probably to something like 10,000 whites, 5000 Indians in the stage of civilization represented by the breech-clout, and 10,000 other savages. The real inhabitants were the countless horses and cattle, which roamed for the most part at will. More than half bore the mark of a branding iron; but probably the greater number even of these rendered no service to humanity, and many had not even a technical owner.[16.4]

[THE CALIFORNIANS]

The Californians were genial, kindly, hospitable, faithful in their married life and gracefully polite; but in the view of many, if not the majority, courage and truthfulness were either follies or luxuries, and no element of practical efficiency entered into their composition. A man got up some time before noon. He would not work or even walk. He neither read nor thought. A monotonous diet of beef, beans, wine, brandy and chocolate, supplemented with cigarettes and a guitar, satisfied his appetite perfectly. What he demanded next was a horse. As an infant he had begun life with a ride to be baptized, and the saddle was his real home.[16.4]

Given a dashing steed with a long, flowing mane, an arching neck, a broad chest, full flanks, slender legs and the gentle but fiery eye that proved its Arabian descent, the Californian was fairly on the road to happiness; and when dressed up in his dark, glazed sombrero with a conical crown, wide brim and betasselled silver cord, his close blue jacket, flashy shawl (serape) and red sash--possibly fringed with gold--his loose trousers, decorated like his jacket with silver buttons and slashed below the knee to reveal snow-white drawers, his buckskin leggins and his mammoth spurs--as big as a small plate--he felt completely satisfied.[16.4]

He could lasso the foot of a running steer, ride one hundred and forty miles a day for a week at a time, or check a full gallop and turn round on a bullock's hide; and anybody less polite, gaudy, dexterous and lazy he pitied. That a cow could be milked without the aid of a calf, he was unable to imagine; but he could ride five hundred miles to a family reunion, and dance two days and nights without stopping except for something to eat and drink. A glass window and a board floor were usually beyond his means; but he could afford to pay 24 per cent interest, and throw his borrowed money away on cards and horse-races. The women were counterparts to the men. They were affectionate, loyal, generous. An orphan had its choice of mothers. But, had you entered the open door of a California house, you would probably have found its mistress either smoking on the bed with two or three dirty children about her, or dressed up with an extravagance that made her lord's game of monte seem economical.[16.4]

There was, however, a very different element in the population, composed of several nationalities but commonly named, and naming itself, "the foreigners." Some French and Germans could be found among them; the British--almost all of them naturalized--were still more numerous; but at the end of 1845 about three out of four were Americans. In 1822 a Boston trading vessel had, so to speak, discovered California, and from that date the business of collecting hides and bartering for them such manufactured articles as the people needed or could be induced to buy, was almost monopolized by New Englanders.[16.1] This naturally led a few shrewd, enterprising Americans--among whom were Thomas O. Larkin of Monterey, Abel J. Stearns of Los Angeles and Jacob Leese of Sonoma--to establish themselves in this new country as traders. Runaway sailors from the ships, hunters and trappers from the mountains, and occasional adventurers from almost anywhere, gradually introduced themselves.[16.4]

By 1836 the foreigners had become an important, if not always highly esteemed, element. In the autumn of 1840 some two hundred emigrants are said to have gone there from the Platte country, and in May, 1841, we know that about one hundred men and thirty women and children set out in that direction from Independence, Missouri. Many who undertook to settle in Oregon decided to exchange that wilderness for the more hospitable region close at hand. By August, 1844, our people were described by Larkin as "flocking" to California; and Whittier sang,

"By many a lonely river, and gorge of fir and pine, On many a wintry hill-top, their nightly camp-fires shine."[16.4]

[AMERICANS IN CALIFORNIA]

Probably by the end of 1845 there were about eight hundred American residents--men, women and children--in the province.[16.2] Quite a number pushed on to the shore of San Francisco Bay, but most of them lived in the Sacramento valley, because immigrants from the United States naturally came to that region first, and because the Mexicans were too much afraid of the savages to settle there; and as a sort of base they had the fortified trading post of New Helvetia,[16.3] situated about a hundred miles from the coast on the site of the present Sacramento City, where Captain John A. Sutter--a German naturalized in Switzerland--received the wayfarers with an open purse, an open countenance and an open, hazy head.[16.4]

Some of the Americans took the trouble to go through the process of acquiring citizenship, and so could become the legal owners of land; but far the greater number were mere squatters, or else hung about the ranches of other Americans, working a little, hunting or trapping more, but mainly waiting for something to turn up. They were in general a rough-looking set: the vicious, devil-may-care sailor, the gaunt, awkward, ragged immigrant, and the heavily bearded, leather-coated hunter with his long hair turbaned in a colored handkerchief; and while some had excellent brains and hearts of gold, the scale ran down to a very low point. Little work and less law was the motto of not a few. Some of the lowest were out-and-out for blood and plunder; some of the best had practically the same thought--regarding California as a new Canaan, out of which they were appointed by Providence to drive the new Hittites, Hivites and Jebusites; and probably almost all agreed in despising the inefficiency of the native, his passion for dress and dancing, his guitar, his bland smile and his dainty politeness.[16.4]

With such and so meagre a population, scattered from San Diego to Sacramento, an air-line distance of about four hundred and fifty miles, the outlook for progress appeared uncertain enough; and California was also hampered by a state of chronic misgovernment and rebellion. In 1836 the people, aided by a few Americans and other foreigners, took up the same battle-cry as Texas, and raised the same blue flag illumined with a single star. The Mexican troops were expelled; and J. B. Alvarado, M. G. Vallejo and José Castro, all of them natives, assumed the control of the province. Two years later Bustamante recognized their government; but in 1843 Santa Anna sent up General Micheltorena, with soldiers that were mostly convicts and officers that were mostly debauchees, to restore the national supremacy. Countenanced and protected by their commander these men, instead of repressing the savages, harassed the people with insults, outrages and murders. At length, in November, 1844, Alvarado and Castro took up the sword;[16.5] and the following February, after some almost bloodless fighting, the Mexicans were driven out.[16.9]

Once more the government abjectly accepted a revolutionary situation, recognizing as governor the senior member of the provincial assembly, Pio Pico, and as comandante general José Castro, who had appointed himself to that position; and meantime her destroying the missions and selling their property (1835-44) seemed to emphasize these hints that California was virtually to be thrown away. It has practically been abandoned, wrote the German traveller, Löwenstern, in 1843; and this fact was rendered still clearer by the proposal of May, 1846, that England should take military possession of the province, which Bankhead, the British minister, described as "an indirect offer of sale," and by an explicit suggestion that Prussia occupy it. Mexico had substantially abdicated.[16.9]

In such a state of things the country could not advance. Indeed it was going backwards. The only source of revenue was the duties collected at Monterey, and this--amounting to $80,000 or $100,000 a year, and signifying the virtual confiscation of about one third of all the property in California--mostly disappeared in official pockets. No military force able to cope with the savages was maintained. In consequence of their incursions farms were being abandoned, and they even raided within the settlements. The laws were openly disregarded. There were practically no courts and no police, and each man had to defend his own person and property. No sort of regular postal facilities existed, and even communication with Mexico was rare and mostly by chance. The only carriage in the country had been one belonging to Micheltorena. There were no real schools, not a single newspaper, and of course hardly any books except in a very few hands.[16.9]

With gold in sight and actually seen, people did not look for it. In a region where the wild clover grew several feet high and a single grapevine would yield a barrel of juice, the government did nothing, and the citizens could do little, to promote the cultivation of the soil. With all the boundless coast of the Pacific waiting for horses, beef and lumber, droves of unbroken colts tossed their manes in a wilderness, beeves were slaughtered for their hides, and huge trees crashed to the ground amidst the stillness of an untenanted forest. Six-cent muslins cost fifty cents, and the coarsest of straw hats paid a duty of three dollars. If a man wanted a kettle mended, he looked for some one trained abroad; and even a child's torn skirt could not be patched without first getting a hank of thread from Boston.[16.9]

[MEXICAN RULE DETESTED IN CALIFORNIA]

Naturally the people felt dissatisfied, and their complaints reached far beyond the misbehaving soldiers. Every official professed intense loyalty in public, but that signified nothing. The people were determined to shake off Mexican authority. California will soon declare its independence, wrote the British minister at Mexico in 1841, while his French colleague, who was in close touch with the situation, believed it would merely be a question between England and the United States. California is almost ready to separate from the mother-country, concluded Sir George Simpson, governor-in-chief of the Hudson Bay Company, who was there a year later. As a rule the people are disaffected, it was directly reported in June, 1844. The principal men have decided, wrote Forbes, the British vice consul, in September, 1844, that progress under Mexican rule is impossible, and they will not have it. The Californians are unanimously determined to be rid of the Mexican military government, declared the British consul at Tepic, under whom Forbes acted, a few months later; and of course all Mexican rule was military. A separation is probably inevitable, concluded Lord Aberdeen, head of the British Foreign Office, at the end of the year. California "must change owners," said a letter from that coast in July, 1845. "The people hardly care what Flag is exchanged for their own," stated a competent American observer two months later, while a Californian was predicting that the Stars and Stripes would certainly go up there.[16.9]

"The situation of Upper California will cause its separation from Mexico before many years," predicted Wilkes's book in 1845. The people of southern California are agreed to cut loose from Mexico, wrote a British admiral. "Mexican rule had become intolerable," concluded Walpole, a British officer in 1846. It had long been "only a shadow," said a young American, afterwards famous as General William T. Sherman; but it was a shadow that blighted. Another Mexican expedition would not be tolerated, said Larkin; and in fact a commissioner from California so notified the government. To get on at all with the people, a Mexican had to become Californian in head and in heart, and even then he was less welcome than an Englishman or an American.[16.9]

Nor were such opinions merely expressed--they were made known to Mexico. Many warnings, both official and private, went from California, and the province maintained commissioners at the capital, who presented information regarding the wholly unsatisfactory conditions existing there. That part of the country has been "forgotten for more than twenty years," wrote one of these commissioners to the war department in 1844; and the following year he said that it had been "injured by every one of our administrations." Alarms were sounded publicly in such newspapers as the London Times and London Chronicle. Notices regarding the danger of American encroachment--particularly by the method of emigration, a declaration of independence and early annexation--were received over and over again from the Mexican minister at Washington, the Mexican consul at New Orleans, Pakenham, the British minister, and Bankhead, who succeeded him. This peril was notorious, declared General Mora y Villamil near the close of 1845; and the government itself recognized the gravity of the situation. In March of that year the minister of war and the minister of relations admitted publicly that California had been grossly misgoverned and was liable to slip away.[16.6] Yet the government did nothing, and confessed that nothing could be done.[16.9]

Virtually, we say again, it was abdication. Both morally and physically Mexico had thrown away and forever lost her control of the province. She had nothing left except the bare thread of legal proprietorship; and in certain cases legality is, according to enlightened modern ideas, nothing. It is our conviction that human welfare is the supreme test; and the welfare, not merely of California but of all the world, certainly required that so rich a portion of the earth should be developed and occupied. In our opinion a child, neglected and abused by drunken parents who are always fighting each other, has good grounds for leaving home, though not legally independent. We believe in the right of revolution, which means that when a country misgoverns persistently a considerable part of the population, it forfeits all claims to domineer over them; and California, though her weakness led officials to practice a lip service that deceived nobody, had more than once rebelled, had made good her cause, and entertained no thought of accepting Mexican rule again.[16.9]

She was, therefore, being in every way unable to establish herself as an independent nation and gain the recognition of the world as such, quite adrift. The province is now "at the mercy of whoever may choose to take possession of it," wrote the nearest British consul in 1845. Californians, Mexicans, Britons, French and Americans, who were qualified to judge, agreed on that. She was the homeless child, whom any kind, intelligent and well-to-do person may, and some kind, intelligent and well-to-do person should, provide for. Any one of the nations then leading the march of civilization, if disposed to perform a parent's duty toward California, could rightfully have taken charge of her, and some one of them was under obligation to do so.[16.7] Of those nations the United States was more favorably situated than any other to fulfil the trust,[16.8] and she felt ready to accept it.[16.9]

[THE AMERICANS INTERESTED IN CALIFORNIA]

Indeed our people were profoundly interested in the matter. As early as 1839 a Congressional report on Oregon said enough about the territory farther south to excite attention; and Forbes's history of California, published the same year, did much to fix it and create the fear that European powers might encroach there. The seizure of American residents in 1840, the appearance of Dana's "Two Years Before the Mast," and the incidents connected with Jones's landing at Monterey deepened these impressions. By 1842 glowing letters from American settlers began to appear in our newspapers, and the suspected purposes of England received ample notice. Gold existed there, it was reported; the country was attractive, salubrious and rich; the port of San Francisco had a value that words could not represent, and the British already held a mortgage on the country. Our Pacific whaling fleet was said by the New Bedford member of Congress to include before the end of 1844 six hundred and fifty vessels, which had cost twenty millions and employed 17,000 men; and not only was this harbor most important, since the bar at the Columbia River hampered navigation, but American control was needed there, for the uncertain and vexatious Mexican regulations caused great annoyance. Besides, it was pointed out, we required a fortified port on that coast, else in case of war with England our whalers would be unable to avoid capture.[16.10]

All these ideas took root, and in the spring of 1845 the press from New York to St. Louis and New Orleans broke into quite a furore about California. Its value became a popular subject; the known fact that English holders of Mexican bonds had their eyes upon it was recalled; the designs of the British government seemed to be clear; and annexation was not only urged, but represented as near at hand. So keen became the fear that England would forestall us, that in January, 1846, the ease with which she could acquire California was dwelt upon in our national Senate, while in the House the enormous advantages of our holding the territory attracted attention.[16.10]

Our government was even in advance of the people. In 1835 an attempt was made to purchase the Bay of San Francisco. The next year Ellis, who represented the United States at Mexico, expressed the opinion that northern California would be of "immense importance" to us. Four years later a personal letter to President Van Buren pointed out that England, as a great creditor of Mexico, was likely to appropriate the territory, and steps were taken to obtain information regarding it for the use of Congress and the Cabinet. Daniel Webster felt strongly by this time that we should acquire it. In 1842, while he was secretary of state, our minister at Mexico not only expatiated on the value of the territory, but reported that England had taken steps to anticipate us; and the minister was instructed to ascertain whether an offer from this country would be acceptable. Our strained relations with Mexico and especially Jones's occupation of Monterey made it unwise to follow up the matter that year; but after an interval, Tyler and Webster planned an arrangement which--had it been carried through--would have given us the port of San Francisco.[16.11]

The expansive course of Great Britain, remarks dropped by English writers, repeated warnings from our diplomatic and consular agents at Mexico, and the consensus of opinion in California, Mexico, France and the United States were quite enough to warrant suspicions of England, and the circumstances connected with the visit of Duflot de Mofras, attaché of the French legation at Mexico, to California, and the publication of his book by order of the king, hinted of danger from another quarter; but neither country took any positive action, and our government--doubtless noting that a tide of emigration to the far west had begun--refrained from every move that could excite the jealousy of Mexico or Europe. Early in 1843 Larkin, who was deficient in education but not in shrewdness, activity or patriotism, was appointed consul at Monterey; but the value of American commerce fully justified the step. During 1845 he did not receive one letter from the state department, and for a long time no American war vessel could be seen on the coast.[16.11]

[OUR GOVERNMENT INTERESTED]

Early in 1845, owing to the annexation of Texas, a breach with Mexico had seemed probable, and the danger that she would somehow dispose of California in order to place it beyond our reach had been deemed acute. But our government did not intend to have war, the tide of emigration to that quarter was rising, and Polk warned off European interference by re-asserting the "Monroe Doctrine." On July 10, 1845, however, Larkin wrote that England was maintaining there a vice consul without consular business, and that, according to the universal belief in his vicinity, she was promoting a new Mexican expedition to California; and at about the same time as this letter, news of an extensive British plan to colonize in that province arrived from London.[16.11]

The question was then maturely considered at Washington. Apparently the American emigrants, unless checked, were sure to bring California into the Union. That was natural and logical; such a peaceful invasion had given us Texas; and in the opinion of the best qualified observers it seemed likely to be efficacious again. Larkin, the Californians, the British vice consul, the Mexican consul at New Orleans, the Mexican minister at Washington, and Mexican, British, French and American journals agreed on this. Larkin believed the matter would be settled in that way by 1848. "Without striking a blow and without incurring any expense," wrote Vice Consul Forbes, the United States will obtain a secure foothold in the coveted region. The Americans do not need to fight for California, said Le Constitutionnel of Paris. "No more convenient mode of conquest was ever devised," remarked the Baltimore American. To suppose that Polk and the Cabinet failed to see what was not only obvious but often pointed out, would be absurd. The condition and political feeling of California, which were quite well known through Larkin and others, fully warranted a procedure so amicable and so beneficial; and it only remained to guard against European interference, which our government now considered a real danger.[16.11]

On October 17, 1845, therefore, confidential instructions, based upon the fact that British and French consuls having no commercial business were maintained in California, were issued to Larkin, who was now to be confidential agent as well as consul. "The interests of our commerce and our whale fisheries in the Pacific Ocean demand," he was informed, "that you should exert the greatest vigilance in discovering and defeating any attempt, which may be made by foreign governments to acquire a control over that country," Against such an attempt the United States would "vigourously interpose"; but "should California assert and maintain her independence, we shall render her all the kind offices in our power"; and "whilst the President will make no effort and use no influence to induce California to become one of the free and independent states of this Union, yet if the people should desire to unite their destiny with ours, they would be received as brethren, whenever this can be done without affording Mexico just cause of complaint. Their true policy for the present in regard to this question, is to let events take their course, unless an attempt should be made to transfer them without their consent either to Great Britain or France." On the same day instructions to ascertain the designs of those powers were issued to Commodore Sloat, commanding the Pacific squadron, and Lieutenant Gillespie of the Marine Corps was ordered to California as a co-agent with Larkin.[16.11]

All this has been called an intrigue; but, if that word is in fairness applicable, the "intrigue" was only designed, so far as it concerned Mexico and California, to rescue with a gentle hand the neglected, abused and lost; so far as it concerned England and France, to ward off an interposition which, if attempted, would probably have led to war; and, so far as it concerned the United States, to safeguard and advance most important national interests while promoting the general good of the world. Such "intrigues" are among the most legitimate achievements of true statecraft.[16.11]

This leads us to the more serious charge, that Polk brought upon two nations the curse of war and endangered the peace of the world, for the purpose of tearing California from the parent stem; and we find ourselves here at the best point of view from which to consider it. Not only, then, have we no sound evidence in support of the charge; not only was he personally unfitted to play the rôle of conqueror; not only did he exert himself to restore friendly relations with Mexico; not only did he virtually forbid Slidell to work for the sale of California, if so doing would militate against this endeavor; not only did his taking certain other important steps and refraining from still others imply the same intentions; but it appears that he looked forward to obtaining the territory without war, should he be unable to purchase it, by a method peculiarly suited to his characteristics and to those of Buchanan. We therefore do not need to consider one of our Presidents a wretch unhung, as many Americans have seemed eager to do, and should finally dismiss the charge.[16.12]

[A CHANGE OF RULE IMMINENT]

While the instructions to Larkin were on their way, the year 1846 came in, and to California it brought fresh perplexities. The desire to escape from what a citizen described as "a positive state of anarchy" was more pronounced than ever. One plan contemplated a French protectorate; but the men of that nationality were few, their government did nothing, and their consul exerted himself only to acquire unpopularity. A much greater number favored American control. Probably all of the foreigners thought such a régime preferable to the existing state of things. Even the British vice consul admitted that his personal judgment pointed in that direction. Some of the Californians also leaned our way. They recognized the merits of our institutions and the growth of our power. The good order maintained by Commodore Jones's forces had left a favorable impression, and so had the conduct of our naval officers who went ashore from time to time.[16.16]

But the participation of Americans in the California revolts had excited suspicion and fear. Our acquisition of Texas, as described by Mexicans writers, had been resented, and probably it was known that Mexicans residing there had fared none too well. American hunters--or men believed to be such--had sometimes helped themselves to property. In consequence very likely of misdeeds committed by our sailors the Americans were generally disliked at Monterey. The constantly increasing immigration despite Mexican laws appeared intrusive and menacing. All the faults of our people, who were better known than other foreigners, came to be understood. Their brusque, overbearing, strenuous ways impressed the polite, indolent Californians as almost ferocious. Indeed a natural antipathy--social, religious and racial--made harmony well-nigh impossible. Finally, doubts were felt whether we should be able to offer immediate and effective protection against Mexico and the Indians, and whether our flag would not go down after a time, as when Jones had raised it, leaving our friends to settle with the mother-country as best they could.[16.16]

The British, on the other hand, while in every way as free and as responsible as the Americans, were comparatively exempt from such objections; their government had a strong fleet in the Pacific; and hence, as was natural, most of the substantial citizens--especially in the south--desired the shelter of her flag. But Forbes could not meet their views. Warned not to meddle, save to hinder any other nation from establishing a protectorate, he could make no promises and give no encouragement. He conveyed to the government of California the declaration of England that she would feel greatly displeased to have the province pass under the control of any other power, but his only advice was to elude American rule by declaring unqualified independence; and this plan, as all thoughtful men understood, could not be carried out.[16.16]

Governor Pico, a fat, swarthy, good-natured farmer of tolerably good sense but little ability, and educated only about enough to write his name, was the chief of the British party, and wanted no Americans in the country. Vallejo--who was now inactive but had great influence--favored the Americans, for he believed that we held the winning cards, and foresaw, like many other landowners, that American rule would enhance the value of real estate. Castro, a man of quick but not profound intelligence and more ambitious for power and fame than for wealth, probably desired independence with himself as the autocrat; but he knew the time had not arrived, and felt that his grip on the customhouse must not be loosened. For the present, therefore, while he showed much amiability toward the Americans and occasionally masked his real views behind cordiality toward France, he posed at Mexico as an ardent patriot. In order to save his responsibility, whatever might happen, and perhaps fortify his position, he urged the need of preparing for war against the United States, and called for plenty of money and a few soldiers--not more than he could be sure of handling. At the same time, holding that Pico was only an acting governor, he recommended that during the crisis, at least, the civil authority should be united with the military. In March he invited a number of leading citizens to discuss the situation with him,[16.13] but no agreement on a line of action could be reached.[16.16]

Forbes congratulated himself that no American of commanding influence, familiar with the language, customs and prejudices of the people, resided in California; but Larkin seems to have been on good terms with all the officials at least. His firm chin, ample brow and correct side-whiskers inspired respect, while his notable energy, hospitality and public spirit gained him esteem; and when Gillespie, after crossing Mexico to Mazatlán in the guise of a mercantile agent and then sailing perforce to the Hawaiian Islands,[16.14] arrived at Monterey on April 17, and repeated to him from memory Buchanan's instructions of precisely six months before, which it had not been thought safe to bring in writing, he promptly bestirred himself. The main points of his instructions were transmitted in confidence to friends at other towns; here and there an official had an opportunity to see a good argument, written out in Spanish, for American rule; and Castro was assured that he and his friends might derive personal advantages from such a change.[16.16]

[A CRASH AT HAND]

As if all these currents and cross-currents did not produce commotion enough, civil war now loomed up. Both Los Angeles and Monterey desired to be the capital and possess the customhouse. Herrera had assigned two thirds of the revenue to Pico and one third to Castro; but Paredes reversed this arrangement, and Castro improved still further upon it by taking the whole. In April the comandante general and his officers repudiated Herrera, on whom Pico's authority depended, came out for Paredes, and resolved to propose, on the ground of Mexico's threatening relations with the United States, that the governor should place himself in Castro's power by coming to Monterey--the latter, in case of a refusal, to act according to his discretion.[16.16]

Pico, who doubtless knew as well as others, that Castro was aiming to upset him, appealed to the people and summoned a general convention, which was to meet at Santa Barbara on June 15, and avert the "external and internal disasters" that were threatening California. The promoters of the scheme intended to audit Castro's use of the public funds, declare for independence, and invite foreign protection--preferably that of England. Castro denounced it as treasonable, defeated it by preventing the northern delegates from going to Santa Barbara,[16.15] and proclaimed martial law; and about the middle of June Pico advanced against him with all the forces he could raise. It seemed as if a crash would have to come; and a crash did come.[16.16]

XVII

THE CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA

1846-1847

In December, 1845, Brevet Captain John C. Frémont of the United States army, who was engaged with a party of about fifty or sixty men--necessarily armed but not soldiers--in looking for a satisfactory road to the Pacific, reached New Helvetia, and at the end of January he presented himself at Monterey to obtain funds and supplies, and ask for permission to recruit his followers and horses in California. Castro gave this permission; but unfortunately one of the two men either misunderstood or violated the terms of the agreement, and when the surveying party was discovered early in March near Monterey, Castro denounced Frémont as having invaded Mexican territory and aiming to excite a revolt.[17.1]

It was an admirable opportunity to figure at home and at Mexico as a dauntless patriot, and the comandante general made the most of it. His narrow but high forehead, framed with curling black hair, seemed to expand, and his brilliant black eyes darted fire, as he galloped about the countryside rallying militia. Frémont placed himself in a strong position, built some fortifications, raised the American flag and announced that he would perish fighting; but after cannon were seen in the distance he retired under cover of darkness, and slowly proceeded toward Oregon. Castro then put out a bombastic proclamation, of course, declaring that he had driven the American intruder away.[17.1]

[THE "BEAR" MOVEMENT]

Far to the north Frémont was overtaken early in May by Gillespie, and went back to the Sacramento.[17.2] On June 6 he decided to act. At his instance Americans captured a drove of horses that Castro had sent for. Some days later a sizable company took Sonoma, a military post north of San Francisco Bay, seized the cannon, arms and munitions, appropriated horses, cattle and miscellaneous property, carried away Vallejo and other leading citizens as prisoners, and raised a home-made flag decorated with a particularly home-made semblance of a bear. Some hostilities then occurred; some blood was shed; and early in July the tragi-comedy reached its climax in a declaration of independence, which probably not one Californian acclaimed.[17.6]

What could have precipitated such an astounding performance? Clearly no directions from our government.[17.3] A policy calculated, not to outrage and affright, but on the other hand to conciliate and win the people, had been enjoined upon Sloat, Larkin and Gillespie; and under Buchanan's order Gillespie had acquainted Frémont with Larkin's instructions. But Frémont, like the others, was to counteract foreign designs, and knowing--for Larkin was aware of the fact on April 17 and hence Gillespie knew it--that Slidell had been rejected, he said and presumably believed, that war had by this time begun; and he doubtless feared that England, supposably in collusion with Mexico, would try to occupy California before the United States could act there. Forbes, on behalf of the British, could see that a declaration of independence would keep the Americans out. Hence possibly Frémont argued that such a step would help to do as much for the British; and evidently a flag put up by himself could be lowered any day.[17.6]

Besides, as we learn from the President, Gillespie had secret instructions; and these, while not contradicting the others, very possibly stated that Polk was determined to have a complete settlement with Mexico, and in case of war to acquire California, for such was soon his policy; and presumably they ordered that Frémont should hover about, and be ready to coöperate at the proper time. These circumstances, taken together, presented to his roving imagination a brilliant vista of achievements and glory; and, as he said, he "resolved to move forward on the opportunity."[17.4] Moreover many of the Americans in the Sacramento valley, believing that Castro intended to expel them shortly from the country, appealed to Frémont for aid;[17.5] and, finally, that officer probably burned to vindicate himself as a soldier from the imputation of having run away in March. Hence the determination to overthrow the government. Cannon, munitions and horses were logical necessities; and it seemed likely that Vallejo and his friends could be used to influence the public or possibly at the worst as hostages.[17.6]

The Californians, however, did not relish Frémont's total disregard of their feelings and rights. They viewed the Bear uprising as an inexcusable outrage--predatory, murderous and cruel, and, since Frémont was an American army officer, as fully justifying every suspicion and fear entertained against our government. The exasperation was intense; the resentment bitter. Who could think his person or property safe under the law of the rifle enforced by robbers? they asked. To make the situation worse Frémont, under the pretence that he was getting ready for the long journey home, obtained munitions and supplies from the United States vessel of war Portsmouth, anchored at San Francisco; and this fact became publicly known. Larkin was kept entirely in the dark, but probably not one Californian thought so. In short, the plan of the government was completely upset. Moreover Frémont's operations tended to defeat his own aim also, for they enabled Pico to solicit British protection on a definite and substantial ground.[17.6]

These events, however, were soon eclipsed. June 24, 1845, instructions for his guidance, in view of our strained relations with Mexico, had been issued to Commodore Sloat of the Pacific squadron. He was told that he should be "assiduously careful to avoid any act, which could be construed as an act of aggression"; yet, should he ascertain "with certainty"--"beyond a doubt"--that Mexico had "declared war," he was to occupy San Francisco and occupy or blockade such other ports as he could. In consequence of this order Sloat, so he reported in November, proceeded to Mazatlán as the likeliest place to receive information;[17.7] and on May 17 he learned from United States Consul Parrott of Mazatlán, then at Guadalajara, of Thornton's defeat. Upon this he decided to execute his orders immediately; but on considering the June instructions again, he thought action was not warranted.[17.8] May 31 came news of Palo Alto and the Resaca, and on June 5 confirmation of the news. That hostilities had begun he felt no doubt; but, "sicklied o'er" with something that resembled thought "as the mist resembles rain," and with an anxiety about his personal fortunes that obscured national interests, his resolution still wavered. On the seventh of June, however, he learned from Surgeon Wood, recently of the squadron but now on his way home with Parrott via Mexico City, that the Mexican government admitted the battles had occurred, and learned also that an American fleet was blockading Vera Cruz. The next day he sailed; and on July 2 he was in Monterey harbor,[17.9] fourteen hundred miles to the northwest, where for some strange reason he made the usual call on the authorities.[17.15]

Larkin, with whom the Commodore had been instructed to confer, soon hastened aboard, and opened Sloat's astonished eyes to the situation. They agreed--for their instructions agreed--that kindness toward the people was to characterize all action; but Larkin, who did not believe war had begun, wanted action postponed, hoping that American rule would be invited, or at least welcomed, by the Californians,[17.10] while Sloat--though doubtless he now learned of the government's plan to acquire the province through immigration and a period of independence--remembered that he was under orders to occupy or blockade the ports without unnecessary delay, and perceived that the state of things called upon him to take immediate possession of the interior also, regarding which no instructions had been given him.[17.11] News that an American officer, to whom another officer had recently been sent from Washington, was apparently conducting hostilities at a distance from the sea appeared like a clue to the maze;[17.12] and, finally, after several days of anxious and wavering deliberation, the idea that Sir George Seymour, admiral of the British Pacific fleet, who had seemed to be watching his movements,[17.13] might appear at any hour and raise the British flag, drove him into action.[17.15]

July 7, as the sun rose above the mountains on the east, Monterey in its amphitheatre of pine-clad hills, with trim-looking white and balconied houses dotted along its two parallel streets among the trees and along the waters of the broad cove, which lay rippling at its very feet, presented a very attractive appearance, but certainly was insignificant enough. Not so, however, what occurred there. Old Captain Silva, the commandant, when invited at half-past seven to give up the town, replied that he and the troops had left the place, and there was nothing--not even a flag--to surrender; and at about half-past ten Captain Mervine with some two hundred and fifty sailors and marines landed from boats.[17.15]

[SLOAT OCCUPIES MONTEREY]

Marching to the little customhouse Mervine read a proclamation drawn by Sloat and Larkin. The United States and Mexico being now at war, I take possession of upper California, said the Commodore in effect, but I do so as her best friend; the territory becomes a part of the United States, and the people shall be protected in all their present rights; they may stay here as neutrals, or depart; they may choose their own officials; products of the United States will come in duty-free, and other articles pay one quarter of the Mexican rate; civil security, religious freedom and material prosperity will be the fruits of American rule.[17.14] The Stars and Stripes were then run up on the customhouse flagstaff, our men--both afloat and ashore--cheered, the boom of twenty-one guns from the Savannah filled the amphitheatre of hills, and the great province of California had a future. By July 14 our colors were flying at every important point, and the Bear ensign had vanished. Stringent orders to prevent misbehavior and plundering were issued; measures were adopted to support the flag and repress the Indians; and Frémont was earnestly invited to coöperate.[17.15]

Both Sloat and Larkin endeavored to bring Castro in, but he would not come; and he retorted by demanding an explanation of the Sonoma affair. Doubtless that episode had thoroughly angered him, and he felt besides that a man in his official position would not be forgiven by the people, should he condone it. Alvarado and Pico, both of whom were cordially addressed, held entirely aloof; and before long the governor and the comandante general, forced into a reconciliation by Frémont's operations, united their commands. But as the people of northern California generally, thankful to escape from the clutches of the Bear and pleased with Sloat's proclamation, appeared willing to accept the change of flags, these two leaders withdrew to the vicinity of Los Angeles, where with about eight hundred men and ten cannon they supported--or pretended to support--the cause of Mexico; and the situation was further clarified by Admiral Seymour, who arrived at Monterey on July 16, and a week later, admitting that he could not interfere, sailed away.[17.15]

July 23 Sloat, who felt ill and probably felt worried, turned over the command on shore to Robert F. Stockton, who had arrived in the Congress about a week before,[17.16] and some days later, giving up the squadron also, left the coast. The new Commodore seems to have been a smart, but vain, selfish, lordly and rampant individual, thirsting for glory; and little glory could be seen in following after his predecessor under so mild a policy. Besides, another character was now on the stage. July 19 about one hundred and sixty horsemen entered Monterey from the north--men with gaunt bodies, frames of steel, shaggy beards, and an air of indomitable courage and endurance, armed with a long, heavy rifle on the shoulder and a big knife on the hip, and speaking a lingo sometimes hard to understand. These were the youngest and hardiest of the Sacramento men, reinforced with the pick of the immigrants just arrived. At their head rode a short, slender, active man in buckskin blouse, leggings and moccasins, a blue shirt open at the neck, and a cotton handkerchief in lieu of a hat, with plenty of hair, a small, bearded face, and therein eyes--"such eyes." This was Frémont.[17.20]

He was a counsellor far more to Stockton's taste than Larkin; and, in addition to believing the Californians dangerous and unreliable, and entertaining deep resentment on account of the March episode, he doubtless could see that California, reposing contentedly under the American flag, would make a poor background for his violent operations. The outcome was a ridiculous address,[17.17] which ranted at length against Castro, especially for his treatment of Frémont, explained Sloat's action as due to this, declared that Stockton's only object was to protect life and property, and announced that when Castro should be put down and the duties of government be assumed by responsible officials, he would remove the American forces.[17.20]

July 23, with a view to the conquest of the whole province, Frémont's men were taken into the naval service as the California Battalion, with himself as major and Gillespie as captain; and they sailed promptly for San Diego to gain Castro's rear. A few days later Stockton followed in the Congress, raised the American flag at Santa Barbara, and anchored at San Pedro, some eighteen miles from Los Angeles. Larkin, still most anxious to bring about a peaceful arrangement, came with him. Believing that war had not been and would not be declared, he urgently recommended through Stearns of Los Angeles that Pico and the legislature meet the dubious emergency, prevent the country from falling a prey to disorder, save the interests of all officials, and ensure lasting prosperity by declaring California independent under American protection; and Castro proposed that Stockton halt at San Pedro with a view to negotiations.[17.20]

Alvarado said later that a satisfactory arrangement could probably have been made, but the Commodore haughtily insisted that Castro should begin by accepting independence and the American flag.[17.18] To do this would have left him nothing to trade upon; and hence, apparently overestimating Stockton's military strength, lacking money, and finding round him no popular enthusiasm or even genuine harmony, he retired hastily on August 10 with a handful of men toward Sonora, leaving behind him a cloud of eloquence;[17.19] and the governor also left the country.[17.20]

[CALIFORNIA IN AMERICAN HANDS]

On their disappearance all military opposition vanished. Larkin with a couple of friends took Los Angeles on the twelfth of August; the Commodore with his marines and sailors, headed by a brass band, and Frémont with a part of his battalion arrived the next day; and on the seventeenth, when positive information that war had begun reached the town, Stockton issued another proclamation. California now belongs to the United States, he announced in effect, and is under military law; all who adhere to the new régime will be protected, but no others may remain in the country. Some of the Californian leaders were arrested and a number surrendered, but all of them were given their liberty on parole. Friends rallied of course to the winning side; the Commodore became attentive and kindly toward the people; and Larkin soon reported that matters were settling down.[17.20]

Stockton realized that under the law of nations and the law of humanity a conqueror had the right and the duty of softening military rule, and felt that pursuing such a course here would tend to confirm the victory. Already, with his assistance, the first schoolhouse and the first newspaper of California had made their appearance; steps were now taken to establish postal facilities; and this very proclamation announced, that officials elected by the people might govern according to the prevailing usages. In September regular municipal elections took place, and good results were obtained.[17.20]

The reign of justice began to dawn. Chaplain Colton, appointed alcalde of Monterey, gave general satisfaction. American officers recovered a large number of horses driven off by the Indians, and astonished the Californians by returning them to their owners. The Commodore, besides adjusting disputes in a manner that gratified the people, made and forwarded to Washington for approval what he called laws; announced that a legislative council would be created, and called himself governor. This office, however, it was not his intention to hold long. The fantastic idea of landing at Acapulco and moving upon the capital had taken possession of his mind. He therefore sent Frémont north to enlist men for him on the Sacramento, proposed to set out for Mexico in October, and promised to inaugurate that officer as governor on leaving California.[17.20]

But he did not leave so promptly. In arranging for the security of the country he divided it into three military districts, appointing Frémont commandant at the north and Gillespie at the south. Gillespie's task was peculiarly important, because news and troops from Mexico would arrive first at Los Angeles, and because that section had the largest percentage of restless people, the smallest percentage of Americans, and the weakest pro-American sentiment. He seems to have been an elegant, precise man with a stiff, pointed beard and a temper of the same description; but at any rate he was a soldier, understood his responsibility, and knew what military government signified.[17.27]

Larkin urged that a respectable command should be given him, but Stockton had neither men nor funds for land service, and only about fifty of the disdainful and intolerant volunteers, perhaps including some of the detested Sonoma "brigands," could be spared for Los Angeles. A garrison of that strength, far from support, was almost an insult and certainly a provocation to the people. Though told by Stockton to temper military law, Gillespie doubtless felt that his only safety lay in maintaining strict order; and if, unfamiliar with Californian character and ways, he extended his discipline too rigidly over the free and easy natives, as he seems to have done, the mistake was but natural. Stockton himself had given the cue, declaring in his proclamation of August 17 that men found in arms outside their houses were to be banished, ordering that all must be at home from ten o'clock at night until sunrise, and indulging in a general tone that has been thought supercilious. Here were causes enough of trouble; and behind them lay an inevitable clash of races, temperaments and customs, unavoidable friction resulting from a forcible change of flags, and a restlessness due to the ambition of would-be leaders.[17.27]

[INSURRECTION]

As the signs of disaffection began to show themselves, Gillespie naturally arrested suspicious persons, and punished those whom he deemed conspirators. This precipitated an outburst. In the night of September 22 some turbulent fellows made an attack on the American quarters. In a military way it was contemptible; but, as such affairs often do, it crystallized popular sentiment. Within a few days about four hundred Californians were in arms; and when the surrender of Lieutenant Wilson with some twenty-five men at the Chino farm to about one hundred and ten insurgents heightened confidence, the movement spread still more. Some of the malcontents were persons of standing, who felt that self-respect called upon them to break a lance against the invader, even though sure to be defeated; but the great majority appear to have been irresponsible characters ready for anything except work. Lieutenant Colonel Flores, the leader, and nearly all of his officers had violated their paroles, of course; but breaking an oath seemed to them a trivial matter, for they knew they could make another equally good on a moment's notice.[17.21] Without fortifications, adequate equipment or supplies, Gillespie could see no hope of resisting such odds, and September 29 he capitulated on favorable terms.[17.22] The next day he proceeded to San Pedro with his men, and they soon embarked there on a merchant ship, the Vandalia.[17.27]

About the first of October Stockton, then at San Francisco, learned of the insurrection. By his order Mervine sailed promptly for San Pedro in the Savannah, and on October 7 with sailors, marines and Gillespie's command--all on foot--the captain marched for Los Angeles. Stockton, however, had provided him with no artillery, while the Californians were supported by a small field piece. When the Americans charged, this gun was hurried beyond their reach by mounted men with lariats; but as soon as the Americans halted from exhaustion, it was drawn back and set at work. The case appeared hopeless, and after losing about a dozen men, killed or wounded, Mervine found it necessary to retreat. Naturally the Californians felt immensely encouraged, and large numbers gathered on the hills behind San Pedro.[17.27]

Late in October Stockton, after lingering a while at San Francisco to attend a glorification meeting and stopping at Monterey to land ordnance and men for the defence of that point, arrived at San Pedro and undertook to accomplish something; but the attempt proved a failure, and he sailed for San Diego, at that day a small group of adobe houses about four miles northeast of the present city.[17.23] Insurgents were now besieging the place, and neither provisions nor horses could be obtained in the vicinity; but Stockton procured both from lower California, and began to make ready for land operations.[17.27]

By this time Flores had been elected provisional governor and comandante general by the legislature, and martial law had been declared; but the insurgent leader found himself without adequate resources. Foreigners aided him with a little money at an exorbitant rate of interest, but on October 24 he stated that only some forty rounds of cannon ammunition remained, and a thousand for the muskets of his four hundred men. Campaigning without supplies or funds and driving stock to the interior were found extremely irksome by the indolent Californians; a general discouragement prevailed; and the legislature could not obtain a quorum. Soon disaffection showed itself; and being a Mexican, Flores dared not adopt strong measures. Finally, in the night of December 3 he was imprisoned by malcontents; and although the legislature and people soon extinguished the revolt, much confusion grew out of it. Moreover, Stockton's troops outnumbered his; other Americans were gathering in northern California, he knew; and thousands of immigrants were expected at New Helvetia, he was informed.[17.27]

[KEARNEY'S ARRIVAL]

None of these forces, however, gave him the first blow. May 26 Polk had proposed an overland expedition to California, and a week later it was decided upon. Accordingly Kearny was ordered to advance after securing New Mexico, should the season permit; and on September 25, as we have seen, he left Santa Fe for the coast. Soon meeting Stockton's bearer of despatches, he learned that California had been occupied, sent back all but about one hundred of his dragoons, and with these and a pair of mountain howitzers marched on. At the beginning of December he reached Warner's ranch (Agua Caliente), the frontier settlement of California, and, having learned of the insurrection, wrote on to Stockton for aid and information. Gillespie was therefore sent forward with a brass 4-pounder and thirty-eight men, met him December 5, and told him among other news that a party of insurgents lay at San Pascual, about eight miles distant on the road to San Diego. Probably the force numbered rather less than one hundred. A capable man, however, Andrés Pico, brother of the ex-governor, commanded them.[17.24]

Kearny sent off a scouting party, which not only saw but was seen, and reported to him at two o'clock the next morning. An attack upon the Californians was highly inadvisable. The Americans and the pack-mules that many of them rode were almost worn out. Some horses recently bought or captured were accustomed to the terrible Mexican bits, and could not be controlled by their new riders. Kearny had had no experience in fighting lancers or California horsemen, and did not know how many were before him. It was clear that the enemy were aware of his presence. The dampness of the night made firearms unreliable, and the men were so chilled they could not use them quickly. Finally, it would not have been difficult to hold the insurgents off with his three cannon, and march safely in a compact body to San Diego, now only about forty miles distant. Kearny decided, however, to attack before daybreak, and advanced.[17.24]

Pico had not desired nor expected a battle; but, perceiving what kind of troops were in his front, he did not flinch. Kearny's advance guard fared very badly, and when his main body came into action, the enemy adopted the familiar ruse of a pretended flight. In pursuing, the Americans became separated according to the speed of their mounts; and then Pico turned furiously upon them. The net result was that Kearny, Gillespie and thirteen other Americans received ugly wounds, and eighteen were killed, while the enemy's loss appears to have been trifling. After ten or fifteen minutes, however, the Californians drew off, expecting guns and large reinforcements, which Flores had promised. As one consequence of the revolt against his authority, these did not arrive. Hence Pico, who had not been prepared for either the fight or the revolt, made no serious efforts to follow up his advantage; and Kearny, though he lost his cattle, had to live on mule meat, and was burdened with his wounded, succeeded, with additional aid sent him by Stockton, in reaching San Diego on December 12.[17.24]

Stockton's preparations to do something were then resumed. Sailors felt strongly averse to shore duty, but he overcame their repugnance. The ships furnished them pikes, carbines and pistols, and shoes were manufactured out of canvas; and so with Kearny's dragoons, Gillespie's detachment, some friendly Californians and about four hundred sailors and marines, drilled somewhat for their new work, the Commodore had a respectable force.[17.25] It was not, however, his intention to attack the main body of the insurgents, for he felt afraid the enemy would then get behind him. His plan was to move up the coast and make a diversion, expecting Frémont and his riflemen to take the bull by the horns; but Kearny urged him to march for Los Angeles, about one hundred and forty miles distant, and at length on December 29, after having brushed away the Californians operating against San Diego, he set out, greatly embarrassed by having to drag miserable ox-carts through the deep sand. Kearny declined the chief command, but finally asked for and was given the post of lieutenant or executive officer under Stockton.[17.27]

Flores now found himself in a desperate situation. Naturally officers who knew they had violated their paroles dreaded to give up; but most of his troops felt half-hearted, people hid to avoid serving, and some of the Indians were in arms against him. In order to gain time for a blow at Frémont, he tried to inveigle Stockton into a truce, holding out as a reason that Mexico and the United States had probably adjusted their differences; but the Commodore refused to treat with an officer guilty of breaking his parole. Then, having some four hundred and fifty badly armed men, though not enough powder for a long fight, he set an ambuscade where he supposed the Americans would pass; but Stockton avoided it by turning to the right, and made for the Bartolo ford of the San Gabriel River, twelve miles from Los Angeles, where the stream was only knee-deep. The Californians followed suit, and occupied an eminence fifty feet high, parallel to the stream and about six hundred yards beyond it.[17.27]

As the Americans crossed--the first of them deploying and waiting behind the bank, here breast-high and masked with trees--Flores greeted them from the top of the hill with four small guns; but his inferior powder and sometimes ill-fitting balls proved ineffective.[17.26] When the Americans were mostly across the river and formed in a square, he undertook to charge. But the movement seems to have been rather faint-hearted or badly managed; his left was demoralized by hearing one of the aides--who seems to have been seized with a panic--shout "Halt!" as it was advancing; and his right accomplished nothing. Stockton then cannonaded the hill, particularly with his two 9-pounders, for about forty minutes, while most of his troops lay down; and finally he charged. Crying "New Orleans!" in memory of Jackson's great victory, gained on the same day of the year, January 8, the men rushed on, and easily took possession of the ground. The Californians made a fruitless attack on their rear, and then most of them dispersed.[17.27]

[STOCKTON MOVES AGAINST LOS ANGELES]

The next morning Stockton, leaving the road in order to avoid the danger of ambuscades, pushed slowly on toward Los Angeles; and after a time some three hundred Californians, whom Flores had managed to rally, placed themselves upon his line of march. An ineffective cannonade from a ravine used up the rest of their ammunition, while the Americans replied with equally meagre results. As a last effort, Flores now ordered a charge, giving the signal for it--as he himself reported--by sending forward a white flag.[17.27]

The attack was made with considerable spirit but no success at all on both of the American flanks, and then Flores took post at a point on the road to Mexico, where Pasadena now stands. He admitted losing only five killed and twenty-two wounded during the two days, but probably these figures needed to be multiplied by three; while Stockton lost one killed and fourteen wounded. That night the Americans encamped near Los Angeles; and the next day, January 10, after a deputation had come to arrange matters, they took possession of the town--annoyed a little by drunken bullies--and replaced Gillespie's flag on the government house. Most of the California troops now scattered, and those who remained were insubordinate. Flores could see there was no hope; and the following night, leaving to Andrés Pico the chief command and probably about one hundred men, he set out hastily with a few others for Sonora.[17.27]

[FRÉMONT'S OPERATIONS]

Up to this time nothing had been heard of Frémont's operations during almost three months. Probably that officer did not wish to take part in the hostilities. Expecting to be governor and seeing before him a prospect of brilliant opportunities, he desired to conciliate the people. Stockton, on learning of the revolt in the south, had ordered him back from the Sacramento, and about October 12 he sailed for Santa Barbara with instructions to march from that place to Los Angeles. Learning on the way, however, that Mervine had been defeated, and that all the horses and cattle had been driven away from Santa Barbara by insurgents, he returned on his own responsibility to the Sacramento, and began to collect not only horses but men.[17.28] By the end of November he found at his back about four hundred mounted riflemen and at least three guns, the strongest force in California.[17.32]

The Savannah had been sent north expressly to assist him;[17.29] but, with little reference to his army commission or his naval obligations, he now proceeded slowly by land to San Luis Obispo, where he fortunately captured Jesús Pico, a cousin of Andrés; and after his prisoner had been sentenced to death for breaking parole, he assumed the authority of pardoning him. Then, for no discoverable reason unless to spare about sixty insurgents, whom he could have scattered in ten minutes, he led his command through the mountains, where it suffered terribly in the stormy weather. At Santa Barbara he took a week for repose; and finally, with a nicety of calculation or felicity of luck that excites wonder, he arrived near the scene of action--three months after receiving orders to go there--precisely as the Americans were entering Los Angeles.[17.30] Then with his devotee, Jesús Pico, he betook himself to the camp of Andrés, and finally, although he knew that American forces had beaten the Californians and entered Los Angeles, and understood that a superior officer was near, he arranged with the insurgents a capitulation, which Stockton had refused to grant.[17.32]

This capitulation, the "treaty" of Cahuenga, conceded substantially all the insurgents could have asked. They promised to give up the public arms, go home, obey the laws of the United States, and help restore tranquillity; but on the other hand they and the rest of the Californians were to be protected in person and property, to enjoy the same rights as Americans, to be excused from serving under arms or taking an oath of allegiance during the war, and to leave the country freely should they wish to do so.[17.31] Naturally such a settlement was displeasing to Stockton, but he felt extremely anxious to resume his proper work as a naval officer, and of course was glad to have this difficult business off his hands; so after hesitating for a time he confirmed the pact.[17.32]

It was a singular dénouement. Men defeated, without a hope left, and in danger of execution for breaking parole, virtually dictated terms to the conquerors. A brevet captain, just blossoming into a lieutenant colonel, eclipsed a commodore and a brigadier general; and the arch-ruffian of the Bear cult reappeared as a fairy godmother to save and bless the Californians, who detested him. But the ending was after all a happy one. The Americans felt a new respect for the people, and they were able to see that, although destitute of gunpowder, the insurgents, if driven to extremities, could have done much harm with lance, dagger and torch, and could have sown the seeds of perennial hate.[17.32]

On the other hand, while the Californians felt well pleased with their own audacity and valor, they not only realized that it was impossible to fight the United States, but were thoroughly disgusted with Flores, who took away hundreds of horses and mules belonging to his friends, and with Mexico, which in three and a half months had sent neither a man nor a peso to encourage and sustain them. Indeed, as their agent in Mexico frankly said, their political attitude had completely changed. Most of them intended to abide by the terms. They were disposed to look forward instead of back. And the curtain was already beginning to rise on the Golden West that we know.[17.32]

XVIII

THE GENESIS OF TWO CAMPAIGNS

July, 1846-February, 1847

The operations described in the preceding chapters were all favorable to American arms, and they placed under our control a very large portion of the territory belonging to Mexico; but as they proceeded, it became evident that she had no thought of consenting to negotiate. Indeed Santa Anna's course and the utterances of the press were unflinchingly warlike; and our consul at Mexico wrote, "Nothing but some very severe blow will ever bring them to their senses." The policy and expectations of the American government were therefore palpably wrong. The programme of a short and a brisk war was a mistake and a failure. The nation found itself in a contest of unforeseen duration and extent.[18.4]

Heedless enthusiasm was consequently sobered, if not exactly chilled. By the end of September, 1846, Pakenham, the British minister at Washington, reported that a growing distaste for the war could be seen more clearly each day. Large expenses had to be faced, and heavy losses of men seemed inevitable. Many believed that neither troops nor money enough could be raised; many, besides deploring the loss of precious lives, complained that needed laborers had already been drawn away; and many others asked themselves whether the outlay would be really worth while. Taylor's famous letter to Gaines expressed the opinion that even complete success would be of no advantage; and his idea of simply fixing and holding a boundary north of which there would be enough territory to pay all fair claims for indemnity, and throwing upon Mexico the responsibility for offensive operations naturally appealed to not a few. Moreover, he argued, no other sort of a peace could be made, since the enemy had no government sufficiently stable to treat with. Calhoun took up eagerly the defensive idea. Buchanan favored it; and Polk himself, dreading to alarm the country by demanding great numbers of men and fearful that the credit of the nation would not bear the strain of active warfare, did the same.[18.4]

On the other hand such a plan was clearly unsuited to the enterprising temper of the American people, and precisely what the Mexicans, whose ancestors had fought the Moors of Spain for hundreds of years, desired. It reminded one of the menaces and forays that had been the policy of Mexico against the Texans. It would have been received by her as a cheering confession, on our part, of military impotence. Had it been adopted, her people would have found a chain of profitable markets established for them; and at any time she could have dashed either with regular or with irregular troops upon any part of our line, done what harm she could, and retired like a wave on the beach, to prepare fresh assaults in a perpetual series. Only one campaign of the sort now proposed was on record, said Cass--that of Sisyphus. Besides, every mile of the boundary would have required its guard; even at that a broad space along the frontier would have become practically uninhabitable; expenses approaching those of offensive operations would have mounted up; we could have laid no contributions upon the enemy; national honor would have been tarnished and national spirit exasperated by a succession of small defeats; and no progress whatever toward conquering a peace would have been made.[18.4]

Politically and commercially the unfavorable condition of things which the United States had been so anxious to end, would have become chronic. European nations would soon have gained a monopoly of trade and influence in Mexico; they would have protested against an endless blockade; and what further steps they would have taken in regard to a vexatious and apparently aimless contest it was easy to imagine. Furthermore, simply to seize and hold, with no legal title, provinces which Mexico had not been able to protect against the Indians would have seemed to place the United States in the class of mere pilferers. Honor--at least military honor--demanded that we should meet the enemy, whom we had challenged, at the centre of their pride and power. Finally, the weakness exhibited in "backing out" of a war with Mexico, begun without a question of triumph, would have excited ridicule abroad, and compromised our international position. Confronted with such objections to the defensive plan, Polk was "extremely distressed," said Pakenham. Evidently some decisive achievement was needed to save the administration, the party and the country; but he dared not face the cost nor incur the risk of a still more signal failure.[18.4]

[BOLDER IDEAS]

There was, however, no lack of bolder ideas. Not only did every newspaper come forward with a "cut and dried" plan, as Marcy rather bitterly said, but the government itself knew what needed to be done. In fact mere animal instinct was enough to suggest that a blow should be struck at the enemy's heart, and as the project of maintaining a line of operations from the Rio Grande to the capital--more than 800 miles--was out of the question, the idea of attacking Mexico City by the way of Vera Cruz came forward early. On July 4, 1846, Benton formally suggested landing beyond the range of Ulúa, the island fortress which guarded that port, attacking the town in the rear, and after its fall advancing to the capital. Santa Anna advised through Mackenzie almost exactly that method of approach, adding that three or four thousand men could easily capture the port; and at nearly the same time a letter from Taylor, arguing that a lunge from the Rio Grande base would be unwise, reinforced this project;[18.1] but there was no certainty that an army could be placed in the rear of Vera Cruz, and a number of other difficulties had to be considered.[18.4]

In 1838 a French squadron had been unable in six hours to injure Ulúa seriously, though it had been permitted to choose its positions unmolested. Such an advantage could not be expected now, and besides, as Conner reported, the number of guns in the fortress had been increased fourfold. The parapet of the main work had an elevation of forty feet above the water; three 10-inch guns throwing shells were twenty feet higher, and there were outworks--connected with the principal fort only by drawbridges--commanded so thoroughly by the gun and musketry fire of the garrison that it would be fatal to enter them, reported the Commodore.[18.2] In short, said that prudent officer, Ulúa could certainly, if well garrisoned, resist successfully any naval force brought against it; while in the opinion of Pakenham, formerly the British minister to Mexico, a combined army and naval attack on Ulùa and Vera Cruz would be "a very hazardous undertaking," and, in consequence of "the deadly nature of that Climate to foreign constitutions, success would probably prove in the end as disastrous as failure." Moreover, Conner pointed out, Vera Cruz would be of value solely as a dépôt, and from that point of view he considered Tampico preferable. Consequently, although at the end of August Polk brought up the subject of attacking Mexico City by way of Vera Cruz, nothing was done about it save to ask the Commodore for additional information.[18.4]

Not long before October 10, however, it was ascertained beyond a doubt that Vera Cruz could be approached in the rear by a landing force, and beginning immediately Polk and his advisers, aided by Dimond, recently our consul at that city, and by other experts, labored on the question of future operations for nearly two weeks. The result was, first, a decision that since a farther advance in the north would be hazardous and would accomplish nothing towards bringing about peace, Monterey and its vicinity should be the limit of serious operations in that quarter. Such was the deliberate and unanimous conclusion of the President and his official family after long discussions. Instructions to General Taylor were then carefully drafted, studied, amended and agreed upon. To make sure that he should understand their significance, Major McLane, son of the minister to England and a graduate from West Point, was taken into the full confidence of the Executive regarding this matter, and was then despatched to Monterey with the letter of October 22, which, as well as the explanations of the envoy, Taylor interpreted, we have already learned, according to his own ideas. So much for the first point.[18.4]

The second was a decision to attack Vera Cruz. This did not mean, however, a decision to proceed against the capital. Though Scott argued, as Conner had, that gaining possession of the city and then reducing or starving out Ulúa would practically be sterile triumphs, unless the army should go farther, it was intended at this time to do no more in that quarter, and three or four thousand men were thought sufficient for the undertaking.[18.4]

[A NEW PLAN OF CAMPAIGN]

November 7, however, Benton made an evening call at the White House, drew the President's attention to the unfavorable results of the Congressional elections, declared that a bold stroke must be delivered upon the Mexicans at once, and urged that after capturing Vera Cruz and Ulúa the army should execute "a rapid crushing movement" against the capital. Two days later he repeated the lesson, and on the tenth he amplified it. Polk began to realize now that while it might be dangerous to call for men and funds, it was even more dangerous not to do so.[18.4]

Benton kept on calling, and finally he submitted a written plan. Scott presented a memorial of the same tenor. Taylor wrote that in order to strike a decisive blow troops must land at Vera Cruz or near that point; and Conner reported that a descent could be made under cover of the fleet, batteries could be planted on sand-hills behind the city, and Ulúa, if not Vera Cruz also, could probably be reduced by starvation. As early as November 14 Polk decided to call out 6750 men--that is to say, nine volunteer regiments--for the duration of the war, and to capture Vera Cruz immediately.[18.3] Yet even this involved no determination to strike at the capital. Polk was distinctly in favor of so doing, should that course be necessary to obtain peace; but Buchanan strongly opposed it, insisting upon the cost of such an expedition, the chances of failure, and the danger that by leading to a national, racial and religious conflict it would militate against a settlement; Marcy had no faith in the project; others of the Cabinet agreed with him; and hence this question remained open, to be answered by circumstances.[18.4]

The next problem was the choice of a commander. In October Patterson, a good Democrat, had been selected; but it had been found that, as he was not a native American, he could not be developed into a Presidential candidate, that his experience had not been adequate, that his appointment would involve the retiring of both Taylor and Scott, and that, as Buchanan learned at this time from Slidell, he did not possess the confidence of the army. Butler, another Democrat, was Polk's next choice, but he clearly held no titles to the position.[18.9]

Taylor had to be considered then; but he was regarded by the Executive and his advisers as professionally unequal to the task and personally unfitted for it, and both of these opinions were fully warranted. While events had proved him a born leader of men and a splendid fighter, they had also demonstrated plainly his lack of generalship and executive efficiency. He distrusted, loathed and misconstrued the administration, failed to supply it with plans and information, endeavored to throw upon it the responsibility for mistakes of his own, lectured it harshly for misdeeds it had not committed, and frustrated the cardinal intent of its policy and orders by failing to press the campaign with all possible vigor during the summer and autumn.[18.5] "I have not the slightest respect," he wrote, for any member of the Cabinet except the secretary of the navy. "Evil men bear sway," was another of his remarks.[18.9]

Indeed, the General's natural kindliness and sober judgment seem to have become largely perverted by this time. He knew that for several months friends of his had been at work to gain for him the political place long occupied by Scott, and to use him as a battering ram against the party in power;[18.6] and it was easy to assume that he would be repaid in kind. Stories of intrigues and machinations, doubtless exaggerated in his mind through inexperience and remoteness from the scene, must have been a constant subject of thought, and he seems to have fallen gradually into an abnormal state of sensitiveness and suspicion.[18.9]

His private correspondence contained the harshest opinions regarding nearly all of the chief men thus far prominent in the war. Of Commodore Perry he entertained "a contemptable opinion." Shields, who was a good man and officer as men and officers went, he described as "without one particle of principle to restrain him, save the laws of his country and ready to minister body and soul to the vilest passions of a vile administration." Quitman, who deserved high respect, appeared to him unreliable, of mediocre ability and "afflicted with unbounded vanity." The quartermaster general, he said, was partially deranged. Of Scott he had written in August, "He means well on all occasions," but now he was able to view his superior officer as a military "humbug" and low politician, eager to advance himself and ruin others by the most nefarious arts; and he could no longer see, what the administration fully recognized, that it was essentially for its advantage to have the generals win victories. So far as the government was concerned, Taylor had some grounds for apprehension, perhaps. In all probability it entertained by this time unfriendly feelings toward him. The veteran F. P. Blair had warned Marcy distinctly that, as even the novice could see, a Democratic administration was waging war to make a Whig President, and under our system it was legitimate as well as natural to look for an avenue of escape. Scott, however, seems to have been his friend, privately exerting a strong influence in his favor on several occasions; and while the lawful rights of superior rank were made use of by the commander-in-chief, the same thing was done by Taylor himself with far less considerateness.[18.9]

Finally Taylor had a particular moral disability, for he did not believe in the Vera Cruz expedition actually contemplated. The season of yellow fever--in his opinion a worse enemy than 100,000 Mexican bayonets--was now too near, he wrote, and an army besieging that port would be swept away by the pestilence.[18.7] He lacked, therefore, some of the most necessary qualifications, and was not in a state of mind to work harmoniously and effectively with the administration, the commander-in-chief or his own principal subordinates in the exceedingly difficult and delicate situations which the proposed expedition was liable to create.[18.9]

[A COMMANDER SELECTED]

Gaines being out of the question, there was but one man left, and he moreover, as an officer of experience and the head of the army, possessed exceptional claims to the appointment. Scott seems to have accepted his professional and political reverses of May very quietly, illustrating that fine aphorism of King Stanislaus, "A man greater than his misfortunes shows that he does not deserve them." Friends fell away rapidly, yet he kept up his courage. To one of them indeed he wrote, "Perhaps you might do well to imitate the example of that heathen who touched his hat to the fallen statue of Jupiter--saying, 'Who knows but he may be replaced upon his pedestal?'" and about the middle of September, having learned through several channels that his presence in Mexico had been desired by Taylor, to whom he generously referred as "that gallant and distinguished commander," he reminded the government that he was ready still to serve at the front.[18.8] This merely brought him another curt rebuff; but when the Vera Cruz expedition became a practical question he took part in the discussion without pique, and he suggested incidentally that he, as the highest officer in the service, was the proper individual to divide the troops between the two fields of activity, and to command personally in the more important one.[18.9]

Taylor having pronounced it Scott's duty after the battles of May to assume the leadership in the field, could not logically object now to his acting according to his rank; but, though time had vindicated Scott's military policy and he now was viewed--Marcy admitted--as politically harmless, Polk still deemed him scientific and visionary, and still resented his allusion to fire from the rear. Long discussions were held, but Marcy felt satisfied that Scott was the only fit commander in sight. By rather cunning management he brought Senator Benton to that opinion; others of the Cabinet reached the same conclusion; and finally the President admitted with "reluctance" that such was "the only alternative." Very likely, too, as many believed, Polk saw a chance to play one Whig leader against the other. Anyhow, after demanding "Scott's confidence," which--in view of the intention to grant his dearest wish--Scott easily gave, he appointed him on the eighteenth of November to command the expedition. An apparently heartfelt and complete reconciliation followed. Scott almost shed tears of emotion, recorded the President; and he received assurances in turn that his confidence would be reciprocated, and that bygones were to be considered bygones. A new David and a new Jonathan seemed to have discovered each other.[18.9]

[SCOTT'S VIEWS]

Scott believed that Ulúa, if properly garrisoned, could not be taken with naval batteries, or even with naval batteries and an escalade, except at a disproportionate sacrifice of life, and a loss of time that might subject the troops to the yellow fever, quadruple the waste of men, and ruin the campaign. He therefore planned to make a landing near Vera Cruz, capture the town, reduce the fortress--unless, as appeared quite probable, it could soon be starved out--by naval operations and land attacks based upon the city, and then escape the pestilence by advancing promptly toward the capital. In his opinion the Mexicans were likely to have 20-30,000 troops on the ground, and therefore he thought 15,000 men desirable. Relying necessarily on the figures of the adjutant general, he reckoned (November 16) that 7000 regulars and 13,500 volunteers were, or soon would be, under Taylor's command, making with the new volunteers and recruits for the regular army over 27,000,[18.10] and he therefore proposed (November 21) to take about 5000 of these regulars, 6000 of the volunteers, and the first 4000 of the new regiments. But he deemed 10,000--to be increased later to double that number--an adequate minimum, and he felt willing, for the sake of gaining time, to launch the campaign with the first 8000 soldiers that could be set afloat off Brazos Island. Anticipating a stubborn resistance at the point of disembarkation, he desired to have 140 surf-boats in order to land 5000 men and eight guns at once, and he made ample requisitions for transports, ordnance and ordnance stores.[18.11] As for Taylor, the General proposed that he should retain forces enough to defend Monterey and his communications,[18.12] and stand for a time on the defensive.[18.16]

Scott of course desired official instructions of this tenor, and even drafted them, but Marcy only wrote as follows (November 23): You have been ordered by the President himself to go to Mexico, take command there, and set on foot a Gulf expedition, "if on arriving at the theatre of action you shall deem it to be practicable. It is not proposed to control your operations by definite and positive instructions, but you are left to prosecute them as your judgment, under a full view of all the circumstances, shall dictate. The work is before you, and the means provided, or to be provided, for accomplishing it, are committed to you, in the full confidence that you will use them to the best advantage. The objects which it is desirable to obtain have been indicated, and it is hoped that you will have the requisite force to accomplish them. Of this you must be the judge when the preparations are made, and the time for action has arrived."[18.16]

Marcy seldom laughed, but occasionally he shook like a bowlful of jelly, and as he signed this letter he must have shaken prodigiously. Assuming no responsibility, making no promises, the government simply unloaded the whole burden of the expedition upon Scott.[18.13] Should he succeed, a Democratic administration would reap a great profit; should he fail, a Whig general would have to bear a great reproach. In order to obtain the essential troops it would be necessary for him to incur the odium of taking many of them from Taylor, who in Polk's opinion was not willing to give them up; and thus not only would Taylor's rising star become clouded, but a bitter quarrel between these two Whig leaders and their friends would almost certainly be precipitated. Besides, Taylor might throw up his command in a fit of temper, and relegate himself to obscurity. No wonder the President felt remarkably in spirits just after this.[18.16]

[TAYLOR'S WINTER OPERATIONS]

Scott, however, was determined to forestall the danger of a quarrel. Immediately on suggesting to the government that as head of the army he was the proper individual to command the Vera Cruz expedition, he notified Taylor of this action, and only two days after receiving his appointment he drafted a letter informing that officer about the matter; but the President, regarding absolute secrecy as a prime requisite, would not permit him to mention it.[18.14] A few days later (November 25) he wrote from New York to this effect: I am going to Mexico and shall conduct operations in a new field; where that is to be I cannot safely state, but with the aid of advices received from Washington you can imagine; new forces have been called out, yet--as the season of yellow fever is at hand--I shall have to take most of your troops; your victories, however, have placed you on such an eminence that you can afford to act on the defensive for a time, and before spring I think you will be able to resume active operations; I desire to consult with you, and plan to be at Camargo for that purpose about the twenty-third of December.[18.15] The letter was confidential and cordial; and having now done what he could to conjure the tempest, as well as to prepare for his work, the General sailed from New York the last day of November. The voyage to New Orleans, hindered by the weather, took nearly three weeks. He made a brief and busy stay in that city, and two days after Christmas he reached Brazos Island.[18.16]

Certain steps tending to facilitate his enterprise had now been taken by General Taylor. December 10 the temporary Field Division organized at Camargo was broken up--the Georgia, Mississippi and First Tennessee regiments reporting to Quitman, and the Ohio and Kentucky regiments to Butler; the First Division (regulars) under Twiggs was reorganized;[18.17] on December 13 and 14, a day apart, this division and Quitman's brigade set out for Victoria, nearly 200 miles distant; and on the fifteenth Taylor himself, leaving Butler behind to command at Monterey, followed them.[18.23]

It was not pleasant marching, for a long drought had burned everything up, the sun blazed with intense heat, and the road, when not covered with small, sharp stones, was ankle-deep in light dust; but the inspiring Saddle Mountain seemed to keep company with the troops all day, Cerralvo Mountain hung like a dark shadow on the left, the cool blue line of the Sierra Madre extended on the right farther than the eye could see, and the town first reached--Cadereita, about twenty-five miles from Monterey--burying its white houses in orange groves, looking out over gardens, and looking down from a low bluff into the clear waters of the Topo Grande, was delightful. December 17 the infantry arrived at Montemorelos, a small town at the foot of the sierra, planted beside a swift, cool stream, full of trout, that watered a beautiful valley, and suggesting at a distance under the blue sky--wrote a surgeon--a pearl set in an azure stone. Here the command absorbed the Second Infantry and the Second Tennessee; and it now amounted to some 3500 men, of whom rather more than a third were regulars.[18.23]

But Santa Anna was not asleep. Learning of Taylor's proposed march and believing that Wool had left Parras for Chihuahua, he determined to advance about December 24, strike at Saltillo and Monterey in person with 9000 picked infantry, 4000 cavalry and twelve guns, despatch troops from Tula against the Americans at Victoria, and finally close in upon Taylor with his own forces; and a large part of these troops actually set out. Worth got wind of danger, however, on December 16; in accordance with instructions previously given he called for help;[18.18] and in the evening of the next day four grimy troopers burst upon Taylor at Montemorelos with the startling intelligence, that Santa Anna would attack Worth in three days. Ordering Quitman to proceed, Taylor therefore set out on December 18 with his regulars for Saltillo. Butler, calling a regiment from Camargo to Monterey, reached the front with his own forces on December 19, and Wool arrived there two days later. Santa Anna, discovering Wool's march by December 24, countermanded his orders; and Taylor, learning on December 20 while between Monterey and Saltillo, of Wool's advance and the non-appearance of the Mexicans, and concluding there was no danger, turned back.[18.23]

On the twenty-third he again left Monterey, and the next day he received Scott's New York letter.[18.19] His presence with the forces was not at all requisite. No serious fight was in prospect, for Quitman had reported nothing of the sort. There was at least one topographical engineer in the command, who could make better notes of the country than he.[18.20] Probably his military engineers also, among whom figured Robert E. Lee, afterwards the famous Confederate leader, were there; and as for disposing of the troops, General Scott's letter gave him reason to believe, that a superior officer was now on the ground with new plans. His obvious duty was therefore to report at Camargo, the place mentioned by Scott, or at least await instructions at Monterey. But the stout old gentleman in the loose olive-brown frock-coat, wool socks and Mexican sombrero had a temper and several ideas of his own. Probably he did not wish to arrange matters amicably; and he kept straight on for ten days, plunging farther and farther toward the remotest portion of his field, inaccessible from any and every point where Scott might by any reasonable possibility chance to be. Indeed, Scott's letter was not answered for two days, and eight more passed before the answer, which stated that General Taylor was going to Victoria, reached Camargo.[18.23]

[TAYLOR'S MARCH TO VICTORIA]

Beyond Montemorelos a great deal of the country was rough, and it was intersected with chilly streams, waist-deep, that cut like a knife as the hot soldiers plunged in; but an incessant variety of novel scenes kept up their spirits. Groves of ebony sheltered bears and wolves. Wild turkeys and wild hogs abounded; and almost every evening ten or twelve deer were brought in. Here flourished pecans, live-oaks and immense trees of lignum vitæ; there an endless procession of ants wound along their smoothly worn trail; yonder towered a mountain of gleaming porphyry set off with dark green foliage, and at all times fleecy clouds could be seen drifting languidly across the slopes of the curiously wrought sierra. Finally the troops entered the rich valley of Linares. On the one hand lay wide cornfields or perhaps a thousand acres of sugarcane in a single, well-irrigated lot; on the other apple and peach orchards, orange and lemon groves with tempting gleams amidst their dark leaves, and half a mile or so of fig-trees. Then came the gardens and flat houses of the town itself, a dull place, with some smiling and some tearful eyes looking out from the grated windows.[18.23]

Then forward again marched the troops, passing out of the valley into wild country full of chaparral and mesquite, where sometimes wolves trotted along the road ahead of them like dogs. The need of water determined the length of the daily march; but usually there was enough of it, shaded sometimes by noble cypresses dripping with Spanish moss. Once a real norther set in, and the troops choked for twenty miles in a driving cloud of dust;[18.21] but through it they caught glimpses of a high cliff that looked like an immense pink and yellow dome, and another cheering bit of color now and then was Señor Don So-and-so, the alcalde, dressed in white and a red sash, with silver coins all over his clothing, saddle and bridle. Usually the weather held fair, and a blanket supported by four stakes answered the purpose of a tent well enough.[18.23]

But the faces of the people grew dark occasionally, and once they muttered something like "Fandango poco tiempo," which signified, "You'll be fighting pretty soon." Then the soldiers cheered till they were hoarse. Fatigue and supper were forgotten. "Turn out, turn out!" was the cry. The column formed, and dashed down the hill at a double quick; but for enemy it found only the trim white cottage of a Frenchman, planted beside a rippling stream amid laden orange trees gilded by the setting sun. There had been rumors of Mexican cavalry ahead, but no cavalry could be seen;[18.22] and as for irregulars, both funds and arms were lacking, and the close wall of prickly pear five or ten feet high, which ran on each side of the road almost without a break for nearly two hundred miles, would have kept them off as it did the breeze. And so on January 4 Taylor and the regulars entered Victoria, a small, neat city at the foot of wooded mountains, which Quitman had occupied with some formality six days before. "Victoria is taken. It was a bloodless victory. But where is Victoria?" said the New York Herald.[18.23]

[PATTERSON'S MARCH TO VICTORIA]

Indeed, Victoria was very much taken.[18.24] October 13, when ordering Taylor to cut short the armistice, Marcy notified Patterson of this order, and again directed him to occupy southern Tamaulipas as soon as he could--before December 6 if possible; but Patterson was not able to set out until General Taylor gave him definite instructions, on the twenty-eighth of November, to march with the two Illinois regiments and the regiment of Tennessee horse, about 1500 men, for Victoria. Further delays occurred because transportation was not promptly furnished him, and because vessels conveying supplies were lost; and although a detachment advanced some fifteen miles about the middle of December, the movement from the point then reached did not begin until one day before Christmas.[18.26]

The distance to be covered was nearly 210 miles,[18.25] and all found the march hard. The chief engineer said his task was "to make an impassable road practicable." Sometimes it seemed to contain every possible stone. Difficult streams had to be crossed, and once the only feasible method was to cut a straight ramp on each of the nearly vertical banks, which stood about one hundred feet high, and get the wagons down and up again with ropes--a prodigious task. The usual thorns were peculiarly troublesome, and some of the water contained salt. Sweat and dust almost hid the skin of men's faces at more than one time; and not only did soldiers drop far behind from exhaustion, but in some cases water could be given to the faint only by prying their jaws open. Once the drinking water was so muddy it could scarcely run, we are assured--to say nothing of an odor derived from dead horses. On the very first day the troops were ordered to march without breakfast, and they went hungry more than once afterwards, with cattle, hogs, and actual clouds of wild turkeys plainly in sight.[18.26]

Some of these facts appear to reflect upon the commanding officers, and other facts point the same way. Patterson had an impressive person, somewhat in the style of the English squire, it was thought, and certain very agreeable qualities of his Irish race, when he chose to display them; but although Polk felt disposed to make him generalissimo, he seems to have lacked a familiar acquaintance with his profession as well as experience in practising it. He also lacked initiative, and he lorded it over the troops, they felt, with all the severity of a satrap.[18.26]

Pillow, the second in command, had come to the war like many others for his personal advantage; and having been the President's partner in a law office, having contrived through cunning and secret management at the Baltimore convention in 1844 to secure Polk's nomination, and being now in confidential correspondence with the White House, he felt specially authorized to slake his intense ambition. On the score of ill-health Pillow had left his command at Monterey for a trip to the United States; but, finding in this expedition a chance of becoming prominent, he suddenly recovered. No one could fail to see his determination to be conspicuous, and it was not commended by all. "Ho for the embryo hero! Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" exclaimed Captain Caswell, a brilliant officer. Naturally Pillow felt inclined to look upon the soldiers as merely coal for his furnace, and they in turn generally detested him. In one stormy scene he called upon them to shoot him, if they dared, adding grandly, "I'm not afraid to die!" And after that, when angered by unnecessary harshness on his part, they obtained some comfort by growling to one another, "He's some!" "He isn't afraid to die"; but they remembered the scourge none the less, and when Taylor came over on a mule to visit their camp the very day he and they reached Victoria (January 4), looking as plain as they and perhaps no less dirty, the contrast between his democratic simplicity and the pomp and pomposity they had been contemplating made them burst forth--when they finally realized that his more impressive orderly was not the General--into an ecstasy of delight and admiration.[18.26]

While these marches were taking place, General Scott, leaving the coast on December 29, proceeded to Camargo in order to arrange matters amicably with Taylor, if he could; but on January 3, finding it would be impracticable to get into touch with that officer, he sent instructions to Butler, carefully explaining why they were given to him directly, to place at the mouth of the Rio Grande about 4000 regular infantry under Worth, 4000 volunteer infantry, 500 regular cavalry, the best 500 volunteer cavalry and two field batteries--deducting, however, from these numbers the troops then at Victoria, except an escort for Taylor, all those at Tampico except about 500 for a garrison, and one volunteer regiment at Matamoros. Scott added that he hoped eight new volunteer regiments would be at the Brazos by the end of January, and that three or four of these would remain in northern Mexico.[18.27]

[SCOTT TAKES TROOPS FROM THE NORTH]

At the same time he notified Taylor of this action, pointing out that his inaccessibility and the extreme pressure of time had rendered necessary the orders given to Butler. Taylor was instructed to concentrate in Tampico all the troops of Patterson, Quitman and Twiggs except an escort for himself and, if necessary, a garrison for Victoria, and return then to Monterey. Scott further explained that on account of the yellow fever he could not wait for the new volunteers, and stated plainly that, although he greatly wished the Vera Cruz expedition could be aided by a diversion in the north, Taylor would have to act "for a time" on a "strict defensive."[18.27]

These orders were the inevitable sequel of past occurrences. Taylor had suggested that it was advisable to transfer serious operations to the south, and that a large body of regulars would be needed for a campaign there; the government ordered the Vera Cruz expedition; Scott--not at all, however, because he so desired--was appointed to command it; he possessed full authority over all the troops in the field under one condition proposed by himself--that Taylor must be left sufficiently strong for defence--and, as Taylor admitted, this condition was met; Scott could only obtain an adequate army in season by taking a large part of it from the field; he endeavored to effect the necessary division in a kind and friendly manner, spending ten days in travel for that purpose, although extremely pressed for time; and, when Taylor went deliberately beyond reach, he simply made such use of his authority as duty required, taking for the offensive a relatively smaller army--in view of the prospect, recognized by Taylor himself, that Santa Anna would meet him at the beach--than he left with that officer for a strict defensive.[18.27]

Taylor, however, was furious. He alleged that Scott had "wormed himself" into the command by promising to kill Taylor off as a Presidential candidate. Of Scott's New York letter he said, "A more contemptible and insidious communication was never written." Although it was his own suggestion that volunteers were unfit for the mainstay of an expedition against Vera Cruz, and that regulars for it should be drawn from the northern army, he complained now that an underhand "intrigue" had stripped him of his regulars; and, not satisfied with describing himself as outraged and degraded "in the most discourteous manner that could be devised" by "Scott, Marcy and Co." for the purpose of accomplishing his ruin, he charged, though really not expecting an attack, that he was in danger of being "sacrificed" on the soil of Mexico. Policy concurred with fury; political strategy with personal resentment. The idea of brave Taylor, the People's Pride, thrown to the merciless Mexicans by partisan Polk and scheming Scott was one to fire the masses; and thus we see concocted a bit of electioneering melodrama that contributed powerfully, and perhaps decisively, to bring about one of the chief consequences of the Mexican war--the overthrow of the Democratic party and the accession of Taylor to the Presidential chair.[18.27]

Scott now returned to the Brazos, where he arrived on January 8, about a week before the date fixed by him for the assembling of his expedition off that point; and there he was forced to endure nearly six weeks of what he well termed "cruel uncertainties." To combine in haste the men and material for such an expedition; to do so when the necessary elements had to be drawn from distant and widely scattered points; to do it while the waterways, largely relied upon for transportation, were to a considerable extent frozen; and to do it without the telegraph and mainly without railroads--this was a most difficult and hazardous undertaking; and accidents, misunderstandings and errors of judgment were additional embarrassments.[18.30]

[SCOTT DELAYED]

The prime need was troops; and Worth, acting with notable energy--even precipitation--placed the first of the regulars at the mouth of the Rio Grande about three weeks after Scott issued the orders to Butler. But here the second need, that of vessels, checked them. Scott's requisitions had been timely and ample; but there was an active commercial demand for ships, rates were high, and the government, anxious to economize, did not allow sufficiently for delays and other contingencies.[18.28] A considerable number of vessels were chartered at New Orleans, but a month of heavy rains, a scarcity of sailors, a demand for higher wages from those engaged, a week of fog, and a series of northers, which were usually only about four days apart, prevented the first of the vessels from arriving off Brazos Island before February 11, and the storms, frequently very sudden, as well as the loss of not a few of the indispensable lighters hampered operations there. "This terrible coast," wrote the General; and for days together ships would lie off shore, pitching "like mad" and fortunate if they did no worse, quite unable to communicate with the island. For a week and a half no mails arrived from New Orleans. As the Rio Grande water proved unsuitable for the troops, extra casks were ordered to be made and filled at New Orleans; and this consumed additional time.[18.30]

Minor affairs, too, created trouble for Scott, and one of these deserves to be mentioned. Care has been taken to bring out the quality of Colonel Harney, and it only remains to add that for some time his feelings toward Scott had been openly and unreasonably hostile. As he was among the men ordered by Butler to the mouth of the Rio Grande, he proceeded in that direction; but Scott, who knew of his excursion to the Rio Grande and preferred to have a more efficient and reliable man for his chief cavalry officer, and one more disposed to coöperate heartily with the commander-in-chief, directed him to place at the orders of Major Sumner the dragoons that had come down with him, and rejoin those of Taylor's army. Harney refused positively to do so. Upon this Worth laid a formal charge of disobedience against him, and a court martial of officers, chosen--as General Scott proposed--by Harney himself, sentenced him to be reprimanded in orders. Harney then wrote a submissive letter to Worth; and Scott, remitting the sentence of the court, gave him the position he coveted.[18.30]

This was magnanimous, and tended to promote good-will; but there is more to tell. On learning of Scott's order that Harney should return to Monterey Polk, though he insisted that his own subordinates in the army must be in cordial sympathy with him, became very angry that "a Democrat" and "one of General Jackson's personal friends" should "be sacrificed to propitiate the personal and political malice of General Scott," and insisted upon countermanding the order, thereby violating the confidence promised that general and disregarding the broad instructions issued to him by the war department.[18.29] However, the trouble with Harney was comparatively but a pin-prick. What racked the General was the conviction that Santa Anna must be gathering a great army to confront him at Vera Cruz; and on February 15, about half of the surf-boats and a small part of the ordnance and ordnance stores having been heard from, he sailed for Tampico, leaving Worth to complete the embarkation as rapidly as he could.[18.30]

While these events were taking place on the Rio Grande line, the troops under Taylor lay for ten days at Victoria, growing more and more languid under the hot sun; and the General realized that his coming to this remote place had embarrassed himself as well as Scott. Finally something had to be done, for provisions were becoming short, and on January 12 he ordered the regular infantry and Patterson's men to set out for Tampico, supposed to lie about 168 miles distant by the road.[18.31] On the night of the fourteenth, a duplicate of Scott's despatch of January 3--the original of which had been intercepted by the enemy--arrived, and then, selecting an escort for himself, Taylor directed Quitman's brigade to proceed in the same direction as Patterson's. The three bodies, which marched at intervals of twenty-four hours, beginning on that day, made an aggregate of 4733, of whom the rank and file numbered 1400 regulars and 3000 volunteers. The rule was to sound reveille at three o'clock and set out at dawn--the regiments of each column taking turns in leading it; and the engineer company, usually known as "the pick and shovel brigade," marched in advance of all to mend the road.[18.32]

There was need enough of its work. The meaning of "Tamaulipas" is high mountains; and while the blue of the Sierra Madre grew daily fainter, the principal range of the state rose constantly higher in front, until the summit was crossed, and the troops began to descend into the tropical region of the coast. Much of the route was boggy or rocky or steep; the drinking-water often came from stagnant pools; and for nearly three days the only chance to see human beings outside of one's own column was when, on surmounting a hilltop, the gleaming steel and white wagons of another brigade could be made out, one day's march away--perhaps only six or eight miles--on another eminence.[18.32]

But as the troops approached their destination they felt repaid for every hardship and effort. The road became deep sand, indeed, but near it spread a sunny and many-hued lake full of emerald islets, pirogues laden with odorous fruits, and myriads of noisy widgeon, teal and other water-fowl; while on the other hand the live-oak, the bay-tree, the rubber-tree, the banyan, the palm, the flag-leaved aloe, and many a nameless tree, bush and vine made a dense forest, illumined with brilliant orchids and more brilliant parrots and macaws, each of which seemed like a year of sunsets epitomized. A soft, salubrious breeze from the Gulf caressed their faces; and when, surmounting the last hill on the tenth day of their march, they saw the grand, leisurely Pánuco rolling luxuriously on through fields and forests, a wilderness of spars and masts filling the harbor of Tampico, and the American flag--dear emblem of country, home and kindred--waving proudly over white walls and green gardens, a tear of delight ran down many a tanned cheek.[18.32]

[SCOTT AT TAMPICO]

Stationed mostly at some distance above or below the town according to the usual policy of the American commanders, they now devoted themselves to drilling and counting the days. "Shall we ever see that big fandango in the halls of Montezuma?" they had been asking for some time, and to wait four weeks on the qui vive for Scott seemed very hard. February 19, however, he arrived in town looking very anxious, and, declining the superb horse made ready for him, walked unpretentiously to his lodgings. The impatience to be off was now intense, and the General did all in his power to gratify it; but he found himself in a hornet's nest. At this time he enjoyed no popularity among the officers, for he was personally known to very few. One or two attempts to check rather pushing young men had been resented; and now the suspicion that he would give regulars the post of honor at Vera Cruz threatened serious results. At a recent banquet the toast necessarily offered to the name of the commander-in-chief had been coldly received, and Worth had been ignored. Indeed, some of the leading volunteer officers were disposed to mutiny unless assured of "a place in the picture."[18.35]

Scott diplomatically declared there would be fighting enough for all, but as the tardiness of the transports threatened to delay a part of the troops, that assurance failed to give satisfaction; and apparently only the arrival of an unexpected steamer or two averted the danger of trouble. One officer, however--a trim, agile man with a handsome face, quick black eyes, a poorly educated but most ingenious mind, a ready tongue, and a conscience that gave him no trouble--was content.[18.33] For him Taylor's harsh rule had ended; and soon, making the most of his own crafty talents, the urgent recommendations of Polk and Scott's determination to keep faith with the President,[18.34] Pillow--for Pillow it was--established himself at headquarters on a basis of intimacy and importance.[18.35]

Tampico would have been a delightful resting-place for a while. The markets were full of good things; it possessed excellent cafés; and the troops coming from Monterey had brought along a theatrical company; but Scott tarried there only thirty hours. At New Orleans some information had been obtained with reference to the Lobos Islands, which lay fifty or sixty miles to the southeast of Tampico and seven or eight from the coast, offering a broad, safe anchorage; and Scott had written to Conner for additional facts. These proved to be favorable, and such of the new volunteers and freight vessels as could be reached in time had been ordered to go directly there, instead of sailing to the Brazos. Indeed these islands were fixed upon as the general rendezvous. Some of the troops had reached it, and word now came to Scott that an outbreak of smallpox had occurred among them.[18.37]

He set sail therefore on February 20, and making a swift voyage in the midst of a "screaming" norther, found at the rendezvous the First and the Second Pennsylvania, two thirds of the new Louisiana regiment, the "Palmettoes" of South Carolina, and parts of the New York and Mississippi regiments.[18.36] Twiggs followed him when the bar off Tampico was quiet enough to permit, and the other troops did the same as rapidly as they could. Patterson got away on the twenty-ninth, but even on the fourth of March Quitman and Shields were chafing beside the Pánuco, and the latter at least had no definite notion when they would be able to sail. "Days are months now," he exclaimed; but he and many others had still to wait. Worse yet, perhaps, not a few of those who got off were packed in small trading craft, picked up by good luck and unfit for the service; and the skeletons of ships rotting near the bar gave them ample cause for anxiety. Worth's troops meanwhile were embarking at the Brazos; but when he left that quarter on February 25, six companies of dragoons were still in want of transports.[18.37]

Taylor for his part, escorted by a squadron of dragoons under May, the Mississippi regiment and two field batteries, left Victoria on January 16 and reached Monterey in eight days. His first impulse on receiving Scott's orders had been to leave the country, but he concluded not to do so, and soon--apparently satisfied that he now had an issue on which to challenge both Polk and Scott[18.38]--he distinctly informed his friend, Senator Crittenden, that he was a candidate for the Presidency.[18.39]

[TAYLOR'S POLICY]

He then shaped his plans accordingly. The government had notified him quite plainly that it wished him to hold no territory beyond the vicinity of Monterey, and Scott instructed him to concentrate there. What these men wished, he believed, was that he should be effaced or play a humble rôle, and he was determined not to accept their plan. He would be as prominent as he possibly could be. Though not able to fight the Mexicans, he would at least seem willing to do so, and throw upon Scott and Polk all the odium of his inactivity. Hence, instead of burying himself and his aspirations in Monterey, he advanced at the end of the month to Saltillo, and a few days later took post, with nearly all of the troops not required on the line of communication, still farther toward the enemy. The dictates of prudence recognized by himself, the advice and order of his commanding officer, and the wishes and instructions of the government were all disregarded. He showed himself, in fact, both unwise and insubordinate.[18.39]

XIX

SANTA ANNA PREPARES TO STRIKE

September, 1846-February, 1847

While these events were taking place north of the mountains, the Americans at Saltillo were having a somewhat agitated experience. At the end of December a great cloud of dust, raised towards the south by a drove of Mexican horses, convinced Worth he was again in danger, and preparations were made at once to conquer or die. Butler, who succeeded him in command, and even the more experienced Wool felt disturbed by rumors of impending attack, which considerate Mexicans, anxious to entertain their American visitors, frequently set afloat, though some of our officers believed that Scott's movement ensured them against molestation.[19.4]

Finally, the rather approved idea of thorough scouting presented itself; and on January 19 Major Gaines of the First Kentucky cavalry, with Captain Cassius M. Clay, Lieutenant Davidson and thirty or forty men, was detached for this purpose by General Butler.[19.1] After making a circuitous journey and meeting with only bland, inoffensive Mexicans, from whom--naturally enough--no important news could be obtained, he found himself on the twenty-first at the hacienda of La Encarnación, a point on the main road from San Luis Potosí to Saltillo, and about fifty-three miles distant from the latter place. Here quite unexpectedly he lighted upon forty or fifty of the Arkansas cavalry under Major Borland, whose orders from Wool had been to visit the hacienda and immediately return. If, however, Taylor could do as he pleased about instructions, why should not Borland? And when obliging Mexicans told him of a small force lying at El Salado, only thirty-five or forty miles farther on, he determined to have the glory of capturing it, and sent back to his colonel for reinforcements. Gaines's party, added to his own, seemed adequate, however, and early on the night of the twenty-second the troopers rode gayly forward.[19.4]

[CARELESSNESS OF TAYLOR'S OFFICERS]

Before long it appeared that the distance was sixty miles and the Mexican force mythical--besides, rain began to fall; so the Americans returned to La Encarnación for the night. "The general and the soldier of each side should ... be always expecting to fall into danger," as Thucydides wrote long ago, and of course our officers understood that in a hostile country picket guards were sometimes deemed advisable; but, operating on the higher plane of action, they felt that a comfortable sleep was what all needed most, and accordingly at daybreak they found themselves in the midst of Miñón's cavalry brigade of, say, 1200 men, magnified in their opinion--doubtless by the fog--to 3000. The Mexican general was, however, a most accomplished and elegant gentleman, and he at once relieved their embarrassment by taking them under his full--indeed, close--protection.[19.4]

Not aware of this comforting fact, Brigadier General Lane detached eighteen men under Captain Heady of the Kentucky cavalry, two days later, to look up their comrades. These men found liquor at a ranch and perhaps--as a letter from Saltillo stated--a fandango, too. Firmly persuaded that joy should be unconfined, they "got drunk," and so without using up a grain of powder they ascertained by ocular proof the fate of the other detachments. Apparently there was some ground for Wool's remark that the volunteers, though now almost eight months old in the service, could not easily be made to obey instructions on such duty. Indeed, even after Borland's mishap and in spite of strict orders, two outposts now went to sleep without a picket or a sentry.[19.4]

To be sure, the men were ready enough to fight. "Why we have no more fear of a Mexican than if they were [prairie] Wolves," wrote a soldier. Wool's men felt particularly keen. On the way from La Vaca to San Antonio they had passed a spot where about 400 Texans had been massacred by Santa Anna's order in 1836. A fire had lighted up their faces that meant, "No mercy," said one of them; and exhausted though they were after their wonderful march from Parras, they felt very much dissatisfied on reaching the front, "there being no prospect of a fight." But the recent disasters had made it seem as if the mountains were full of the enemy, and one of Gaines's men, who contrived to escape, brought fearful tales. Even those Americans who did not care to do picket duty felt little desire to wake up some foggy morning as prisoners. Signs of a panicky feeling could be observed, and Wool found it necessary to invoke Taylor's aid.[19.4]

The General's position in his army was now extraordinary. To the troops, while they gloried in his courage, his achievements had seemed at the time commonplace enough; but sentiment at home as exhibited in the newspapers--reacting from painful anxiety, indulging in the common taste for exaggeration, and instinctively demanding a national figure for this national crisis--had not only done justice to his great qualities, but, partly in order to explain victories clearly marked with errors, made him out a genius and worker of miracles; and all this laudation, read by the army, created an impression which both duty and interest forbade the more discriminating to impair.[19.4]

[ARMY FEELING TOWARD TAYLOR]

The General, moreover, though nursing the mammoth conceit that he was qualified to be President of the United States, was careful to spare the self-love of all who came in contact with him; and while no one could enter Scott's presence without feeling himself before a superior man aware of his superiority, probably most of Taylor's visitors had an agreeable sense of excelling him in personal appearance, dress, education and talents, and enjoyed also a flattering conviction of their insight, because they recognized that he possessed high merits after all. How the soldiers, oppressed by the lordliness of many generals, adored his plainness we have seen. They felt they could bow down to such a man without losing self-respect, since the obeisance was due to their own choice, not his demand; and when he welcomed one to his unguarded tent and talked with him about home and friends, or shook a delinquent by the two ears with a kindly warning not to do so again, he established a positive dominion over their minds and hearts. It has been said that no woman loves a man unless she can despise him for something, and the saying may be extended to the rest of humanity. Taylor had thus a double hold on his troops. His black body-servant referred to him as "De ole hoss," but would have died for him; and while the army would probably have expressed itself about him as lightly as did the street urchins of Philadelphia:

"Old Zack's at Monterey, Bring out your Santa Anner; For every time we raise a gun, Down goes a Mexicanner;"

yet in reality he was now enthroned in the hearts of the soldiers generally as a father, a hero and almost a fetich.[19.4]

Invoked by Wool, then, Taylor--instead of drawing him back, as the government wished--appeared at Saltillo on the first or second of February with about 700 men, and proceeded to occupy the advanced position already mentioned. Believing, as we have seen, that a lack of water on the road from San Luis would prevent any strong body of Mexicans from coming north at that season, and hearing that a great part of Santa Anna's troops had gone toward Vera Cruz, he scouted alarms; and in addition to his other grounds for pushing forward, he thought so doing would tend to restore confidence among the troops and the people of Saltillo. Moreover, although he had ridiculed Scott's intimation that he might be able to manoeuvre toward San Luis in the early spring, he was now planning to do so.[19.4]

Scrambling out of Saltillo by the southern route, which makes a short but sharp ascent as it leaves the town, Taylor found himself on a rather smooth plateau elevated nearly or quite 6000 feet above the sea, and after a ride of about five miles discovered on the left, near the road, four or five mean adobe buildings, headquarters of the Buena Vista ranch, where Wool's command had recently been in camp. The southern outlook from this point was desolate but noble. On both sides rose high, barren mountains. Those on the west, formed of many rather thin horizontal slabs of rock, slightly concave toward the sky and separated by thicker deposits of a softer material eroded at the edges, formed reddish, flat-topped pyramids like the pictured hanging gardens of Babylon; while those on the other hand were a true sierra, a line of saw-tooth peaks buttressed with sharp spurs. Descending easily for about a mile and a half, the General came to a narrow place called by Mexicans La Angostura (The Narrows), and then traversed lengthwise for a distance of about three and a half miles the approximately north-and-south valley of Buena Vista. At the end of this came the windy, dusty farm of La Encantada, where Butler had stationed Wool for a time; and then began the smiling valley of Agua Nueva, which broadened gradually for about seven miles, and ended at the farm or hacienda of that name. This lay near the mountain on the eastern edge of a wide plain, generously supplied by nature with fuel and water.[19.4]

Here Taylor pitched his tent on the fifth, and by the fourteenth substantially all the troops were on the spot--about 650 camping with him and some 4000 lying with Wool a mile or so away. The General ordered no scouting, and took about the same precautions against surprise that Gaines and Borland had taken. On the ground that spies could not be kept out, he let the Mexicans come and go with perfect freedom. The engineers, reconnoitring on their own responsibility, concluded that the mountains were "passable in every direction" by routes familiar to the enemy but of course blind to the invader.[19.2] Parallel roads lay beyond the heights on each side. Yet here Taylor decided that he would meet the enemy, should they care to attack him;[19.3] and he said to the correspondent of the New York Tribune; "Let them come; damned if they don't go back a good deal faster than they came." In reality the troops had more reason than ever to feel alarmed; but Dagon was again in the midst of them, and they stood like mountains. Taylor might be old and slow and inefficient, and he might know little about the art of war, but he could stiffen the courage of soldiers. "Every man feels that the honor of his country is now placed in his hands," wrote Lieutenant Posey on the nineteenth.[19.4]

SANTA ANNA'S PLANS]

This takes us back to Santa Anna, who left the city of Mexico for the north on September 28. When his carriage had rolled on for about thirty miles, he received word that Monterey had fallen, and the news occasioned many bitter reflections; but there were enough other matters to divert his thoughts. He understood well the superior strength of the United States; but from Mackenzie's mission and the conviction that war expenses would be extremely unpopular in this country, he doubtless felt sure that we earnestly desired peace. It was therefore clear to him that his problem was to gain one victory. This would so discourage us, he seems to have calculated, that he could end the war on fairly satisfactory terms.[19.7]

To gain this victory, it seemed only necessary to gather large forces, bar the road from the north with fortifications, make no defence of outlying sections, worry the Americans perhaps with feints and forays, await and repulse them should they advance, and at the end of the winter season, should they not, fall upon some fraction of their army with full power. One difficulty in this programme was the general hatred which he must have known the northern provinces entertained for him, because his policy had always sacrificed their interests; and he thought it wise to despatch a proclamation to San Luis Potosí, calling upon the people to see in him only a Mexican soldier fighting for the common country. The appeal was effectual. A committee met him about a dozen miles from the city, and on October 8 he entered a town decorated with tapestries and pots of flowers, and resounding with salvos of artillery, peals of bells and enthusiastic vivas from the entire population.[19.7]

A number of circumstances occurring now and later appeared favorable. The government engaged that he should have an adequate remittance of funds every month, and instructed the heads of seven states to supply his general wants. A medal was promised to all taking part in the campaign. The National Guards, now ordered to obey the central instead of the state authorities, apparently came within his reach. The fight at Monterey was pictured as creditable to Mexican arms and costly to the enemy. Every life sacrificed there on the altar of nationality, proclaimed the government, called to heaven for vengeance, and the outrages perpetrated by the insolent invaders proved how they would trample on the whole country, if they could.[19.7]

Once more our wicked administration and its horde of "adventurers" were denounced in the good old blood-curdling style, and once more the forays of the savage Indians were laid to our charge. Detestable wretches like the Americans could not wage war long. Their beloved money-bags were already feeling pinched. Volunteers did not flock to the banner. Noble orators like Webster were enlightening the better people. The slavery question could not fail to paralyze the country. Already the elections had turned against the administration, and signs of a revolution could be seen. European countries were certainly preparing to interfere. Merely by uniting, the Mexicans could "tear from the invader's flag the symbol of Texas," and at last--so it was declared--union had actually been achieved. On all sides patriotism had burst into flame. The nation was rising. It would take account of every injury, great or small, inflicted by the barbarians of the north, and the day of settlement would soon arrive. In this fashion talked the government, the orators and the newspapers; and many observers in Europe and the United States believed the overdue national movement had now begun.[19.7]

But this radiant picture was only paint-deep. Don Simplicio, the satiric weekly, announced: It is proposed that all give, that all lend, that all rise, that all go to the field; but "few give, few lend, few get in motion, few take up arms." The states, restored to a measure of sovereignty by the adoption of the federal system, became conscious of their powers. Durango would not help, because threatened by the Indians, and even denounced the Hero of Tampico. Michoacán held aloof because Ocampo, her brilliant governor, who could voice his opinions in five languages, hated Santa Anna even more than he did the Americans. The great state of Jalisco promised much and did little; and Zacatecas, which Santa Anna had crushed and robbed in 1835 because it dared to oppose his ambition,[19.5] not only withheld all aid, but attempted to form a combination of states against him. A multitude of officials preferred the triumph of a foreign invader to that of a native tyrant, and their constituents endorsed their course.[19.7]

The decree taking the National Guards from state control had to be substantially qualified. Members of that organization could not be impressed. The law pardoning--that is to say, authorizing--desertion from the regular army was extended for three months. A secret society called The Red Comet, which sprang up among the military men at San Luis, took for motto, "Nobody is bound to obey one that has no right to command," and annoyed the General constantly. Requena, one of the best qualified officers, who entertained little respect for the Liberator's professional ability or plans, made so much trouble that he was sent away; and General Valencia, a member of the Red Comet society, who had been refused permission to attack the Americans at Victoria and was believed now to covet Santa Anna's place, openly defied the commander-in-chief and left the army.[19.7]

[SANTA ANNA'S EMBARRASSMENTS]

Still more serious were financial difficulties, for the Executive did not supply the promised funds. The reason was obvious. "Our treasury is as poor in money as it is rich in obligations," explained the minister. Santa Anna did not spare the government, however. "I do not consider myself nor should I be considered by the gentlemen who compose the provisional administration of the Country as a mere General, commanding a corps of the army, but as the one leader of the Nation, to whom the direction of its destinies has been entrusted," he wrote; and in this tone he conducted the financial correspondence--demanding, reproaching, protesting, threatening; yet the needful remittances did not arrive. Popular support was equally unfruitful. "Santa Anna lacks three things--to wit, money, money and money," announced Don Simplicio; "Very well, let us have a public meeting. What is the result? Nothing." But somehow, through remittances from the capital and the states, forced loans, arbitrary seizures and the use of his personal credit, the General worried along, and built up an army of some 25,000 men.[19.6] Extensive shops were established for the manufacture of clothing and the repair of arms; and energetic measures were taken to provide muskets, ammunition and cannon.[19.7]

Santa Anna's operations were not, however, entirely sagacious. As was usual in Mexican armies, number outweighed quality. Consisting mostly of impressed men and to a considerable extent of criminals, the troops were unreliable. They were drilled in no larger bodies than brigades; many had no practice in firing; and most of them were very imperfectly disciplined. The artillery did no manoeuvring. There was no school for officers. Persons of a notoriously bad reputation as soldiers occupied high posts. Santa Anna showed marked favoritism toward certain regiments and certain men. Never visiting the drill-ground, he could not estimate the relative qualities of the various corps, and he was too much engrossed in politics and personal interests to concentrate his attention upon the work in hand. All of the generals who tried to do their duty gave too much time to the details, and studied the plans of campaign too little. What was hardly less important, Santa Anna, instead of instructing the troops regarding the national issues at stake, talked much about the booty to be stripped from the Americans, and in particular about an alleged blue wagon containing their military chest. Still, the army took shape, and the General looked hopefully toward spring.[19.7]

But now came one of those whirls of fortune that always hover about leaders of dubious antecedents. November 26 an influential newspaper of the capital, El Republicano, copied from the New York Herald a letter of September 22, written from Mexico City, which stated that Santa Anna, acting in collusion with the United States, would abandon the invaded provinces, resist the enemy feebly, satisfy the nation of its impotence, bring about a peace agreeable to the United States, and become the dictator of Mexico.[19.8] Already there had been suspicions, and now they crystallized instantly round this definite accusation. Why had the Americans allowed the ablest citizen of Mexico to pass through their fleet? Why had Tampico and Saltillo been evacuated? Why had not the passes of the Sierra Madre been fortified? And why had Valencia been forbidden to attack the enemy at Victoria? The government denounced the story as a scheme to create discord and break down the national champion. Santa Anna does not need to become a traitor in order to be the first Mexican, it was said. Had he made such a bargain, the United States would have kept it secret in order that he might be able to do his work. Has he not shed his blood for the country? Has he not recently declined the supreme power? The defence was plausible, but the facts looked more than plausible.[19.10]

And the situation had other aspects, too. As Governor Olaguíbel of México state informed Santa Anna, more things were said against him than even a long letter could specify. San Luis was described as changing under his influence into a new Capua, where he was wasting the funds of the country on his vices--not only gambling, but inducing the officers to gamble with him. His political attitude was viewed with distrust, and familiar signs indicating an intention to overthrow the government were believed to be discernible. Even the correspondent of the London Times described his policy as "dark and tortuous," and the British minister deemed it an "enigma." Many said his troops were more dangerous to Mexico than to the United States. The wide extent of his military jurisdiction was described in the press as alarming. By January each day brought fresh rumors of an approaching dictatorship. Olaguíbel's letter spoke the word frankly. Then came news that the troops at Mazatlán had pronounced for it, and Santa Anna's repudiation of their course only convinced the public that he preferred to wait for a time.[19.10]

The military phase of the situation gave equal offence. "Where now," it was demanded, "are those great generals of ours, who--covered with ribbons and crosses from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot--insulted with their luxuriant splendor the misery of the people?" "Predictions for 1847," announced Don Simplicio: "The officers of our army will be divided into fugacious and permanent;" and the same journalistic scorpion asked why the commander-in-chief did not, while calling for money, "eliminate the superfluous, useless, burdensome, incapable and cowardly." At the beginning of December Salas had promised with a flourish that Santa Anna would "very soon" meet the odious Yankee, and before long the people were inquiring why he did not. "We are invaded, time presses, and what has Santa Anna done?" demanded a pamphleteer; "Ah, the silly fellow is waiting for the Americans to come and hunt him up." At the General's demand, three newspapers were established to defend him; but the scorpion disposed of them all with one sting: "Napoleon answered his detractors with victories."[19.10]

[SANTA ANA FORCED TO MOVE]

Under these attacks the army shivered with rage and mortification from top to bottom. The soldiers deserted in astonishing numbers. The officers and their infuriated commander felt they must either do something or sink to perdition in a burning lake of distrust, hatred and contempt; and therefore Santa Anna decided precipitately to hurl himself against the Americans.[19.9] Scott's intercepted letter of January 3, which probably found its way to the Mexican headquarters, showed how Taylor's army had been depleted, and Taylor's volunteers, it was believed by Santa Anna, would hardly resist a single onslaught; while their inferiority in numbers, their distance from heavy reinforcements, their scattered condition, and their isolation in the midst of a hostile people were other factors offsetting the great difficulty of crossing deserts to reach them.[19.10]

January 23 Santa Anna ordered the mint of San Luis to work night and day on ninety-eight bars of silver forcibly appropriated by him. A few days later, after issuing a manifesto in self-defence, he addressed the army in eloquent language, pointing out the hardships, the plunder and the glory that awaited it. On the twenty-eighth, to the plaintive strains of a popular air called the Adios, the troops began to leave the dust-brown city. The rear guard set out three days later; and on February 2 headquarters moved.[19.11] Only useless remnants of the army stayed behind; but on the other hand a great number of adventurers of both sexes, drawn forward by various motives but especially by the prospect of booty, accompanied the march.[19.15]

[SANTA ANNA'S MARCH NORTH]

For about thirty miles the route lay through a cultivated region; but after it bade farewell to the heavy old Spanish church that crowned the hill of Las Bocas, the country became sterile, and between mountains now lumpy, now conical, usually rich in silver and always poor in vegetation, each division rolled on in a billowy cloud of dust, at one time chilled with icy blasts, and at another melting under an insupportable sun; cheered only by the prickly cactus, the crooked mesquite and an occasional group of dwarfish palms. Reckless from fatigue and unaccustomed to such a burden, the soldiers threw away thousands of sacks containing food.[19.15]

To Matehuala the distance was about 140 miles, and beyond that point lay a broad flinty desert. Here provisions and good water began to fail; and many, though well enough supplied with the poor meat and water that now composed the rations, grew sick and weak.[19.12] Weather of unusual severity set in. For several days a storm of snow or chilling rain buffeted the struggling troops; and at night, destitute of all shelter, they could only huddle and shiver at a few small fires. Many died from exposure, and a great number, though expressly warned that death would be the punishment, risked all the chances of deserting. But the army as a whole pressed forward, and on February 17-21 arrived at La Encarnación, nearly 200 miles from San Luis.[19.13] Several thousand men had been lost from death, sickness or desertion on the way. Others had been detached at various points, and Miñón had now placed himself at Potosí hacienda behind the mountains on Taylor's left; but on February 19 the figures for the army were 15,142 officers and men[19.14]--in general the strongest and most determined that had set out--and a brilliant review, held the next day, showed no lack of confidence and enthusiasm. A triumph was considered certain.[19.15]

Santa Anna had supposed that a part of the American army occupied La Vaquería, some eight or ten miles west of Taylor's actual position, and his intention had been to surprise it; but by February 11 he learned that all had concentrated at Agua Nueva. He now had the choice of three routes. One was the direct road to that point; the second would have taken him via La Hedionda to the rear of Buena Vista; and the third ran by the way of La Vaquería to the north of Agua Nueva.[19.16] Santa Anna desired, he said later, to pursue one of the lateral routes, and place himself between Taylor and Saltillo; but both of these routes were said to be circuitous, difficult if not impracticable for artillery, and perhaps inadequately supplied with water and provisions. He decided therefore to surprise Agua Nueva, believing that should his forces be seen, they would be regarded as a part of Miñón's brigade.[19.17]

That general was ordered to proceed via La Hedionda to the American rear, and a little after noon on February 21--every soldier having been ordered to drink his fill, carry all the water he could, and take rations for the next two days--Santa Anna advanced. Agua Nueva was only some thirty-five miles away, and he expected to overwhelm it early the next morning. The march continued well into the night. At Carnero Pass, five or six miles from Taylor, the troops lay down by columns as they arrived--the cavalry still holding their reins. It was too cold for sleep, but they rested; and at six in the morning they rose in the deepest possible silence, and resumed their march.[19.17]

The Americans had at last awakened, however. By February 19 Santa Anna was expected "hourly," wrote Lieutenant Posey, and the next day Major McCulloch with his party of Texan scouts was despatched in the direction of La Encarnación, while Brevet Lieutenant Colonel May with about 400 dragoons and some field pieces proceeded toward La Hedionda.[19.18] The latter saw a cloud of dust in the direction of Potosí, fell in with a Mexican deserter[19.19]--who said Miñón was near and Santa Anna at La Encarnación--and reported at Agua Nueva before sunrise, February 21. At first his party were taken for Mexicans; and when the alarm subsided, it was followed by a solemn stillness, amidst which groups of officers could be seen talking eagerly in low tones with mysterious gestures.[19.22]

[TAYLOR DRAWS BACK]

Suddenly at about noon a solitary horseman on a jaded steed came down from the mountain, and made straight for the General's tent, bringing word that a great Mexican army had been seen at La Encarnación. The combination of this report and May's was understood to mean that Santa Anna intended to turn Agua Nueva, and before two o'clock the Americans took flight--that is the polite phrase--for Buena Vista.[19.20] Colonel Yell with his mounted Arkansas regiment was left behind to guard the stores, should Santa Anna permit this, until they could be removed;[19.21] the Second Kentucky and some guns were detached at La Encantada to support him; and the First Illinois under Colonel Hardin was posted at La Angostura. About midnight Yell's pickets at Carnero Pass were driven in. Upon this, firing the buildings and the last of the stores, and abandoning some wagons, the troops hurried off, lighted on their way by roaring flames that filled the air with piles of lurid smoke and the mountains with fantastic shadows; and by morning all except Hardin's command and the advanced pickets were at Buena Vista. Taylor, meanwhile, entrusting to Wool the disposition of the troops, marched with a strong escort of the three arms for Saltillo, to provide at this late day for the defence of that city against Miñón.[19.22]

XX

BUENA VISTA

February, 1847

[THE MEXICANS NEAR BUENA VISTA]

Early the next morning (February 22) Santa Anna, hurrying down from Carnero Pass, learned that Agua Nueva had been evacuated, but on arriving there he discovered signs, as he justly believed, of a precipitate flight. Miñón, he thought, was already between Buena Vista and Saltillo, in a position to hinder the American retreat; the state of the Mexican supplies, in his opinion, did not allow time for strategic operations; and therefore, hardly permitting the troops to drink,[20.1] he dashed ahead with some 2500 horse and a few light battalions of infantry, swept away the American pickets at La Encantada, and thundered on down the valley.[20.8]

By this time Wool knew the enemy were at hand; the long roll sounded; the soldiers leaped to their work; the camp was cleared; and a section of Captain Washington's battery hurried down the slope toward La Angostura. It was a beautiful morning; the mountains on the east flung long shadows across the valley; a gentle breeze languidly stirred the flags. What was more to the point, this was the twenty-second of February. The bands struck up Hail Columbia. The watchword, "Honor of Washington," passed among the men; and they shouted for joy to see the great cloud of dust, full of galloping Mexicans, approach. None the less they were unprepared for combat. Had Santa Anna risked a daring charge, he would probably have triumphed in short order.[20.8]

But he found the American position and the guns at La Angostura impressive. His bugler sounded "Halt!" just beyond range; and after reconnoitring a long time he decided to wait for infantry. In fact there seemed to be danger that his van might be attacked and overpowered; and hence at about eleven o'clock he sent Dr. Vanderlinden, his chief medical officer, to General Taylor, who had now returned from Saltillo, with a note inviting him, on the ground that he was now surrounded by more than 20,000 Mexicans, to lay down his arms, and probably with secret instructions to amuse the American commander as long as possible.[20.2] Very likely, as he intimated later, he would have been glad to retire from what he called a Pass of Thermopylæ, and operate strategically; but the American retreat had in effect lured him on, his provisions were scant, and at this point therefore the issue had to be decided at once.[20.8]

With good reason Santa Anna disliked the field of battle selected by Wool,[20.3] for it strongly favored the defence. Running north along the western side of the road there was a creek, which had excavated near La Angostura an amazing network of gullies with almost vertical banks twenty feet or so high, that practically vetoed the passage of troops; and west of this obstruction the ground rose more and more steeply until it became a line of high hills, parallel to the creek, which resembled a huge wave ready to break. On the other side, between the road and the sierra, there was a space varying from three quarters of a mile to a mile in width, and this was roughly divided by two east-and-west ravines--the more northern of which may be called the long and the more southern the broad ravine--into three parts: the north field, as we may name it, extending to Buena Vista, the middle field or plateau, and the south field extending to La Encantada.[20.8]

Of these divisions the plateau was the most distinctive. Along the base of the sierra there were two or three benches, presumably made of débris from the mountain; and lighter débris had been washed almost down to the road, forming a stony plain seamed by a number of minor ravines--torrents during the rainy season--which grew deeper as they progressed, until at the western edge of the plateau they descended to the floor of the valley as ragged gulches, leaving between them several tongues or spurs, extremely steep and about forty or fifty feet high. The longest, highest and bluntest of the spurs, which may be called the first of them, was at La Angostura; and a space of only some forty feet, through which passed the road, intervened between its point and the network of gullies. The plateau, some 400 yards wide, north-and-south, at the base of the mountains, had perhaps twice that width at the opposite end, toward which it very gradually sloped. Both of the two main ravines, the long and the broad, were extremely difficult for cavalry and still more difficult for artillery. Obviously in such a spot large numbers--and especially large numbers of horse--lost a great percentage of their value.[20.8]

[THE BUENA VISTA BATTLEFIELD]

The centre of the American position was the first spur, on which Hardin's men threw up a slight breastwork during the night, with Captain Washington's battery on the road below, protected now with a ditch and a parapet, that ran from the gullies nearly to the spur;[20.4] and at this point, or in reserve just north of it, Wool gathered most of the Americans, who numbered 4759 officers and men, placing near the mountain under Colonel Marshall the Kentucky and Arkansas horse and Major Gorman's rifle battalion (four companies) of the Indiana foot.[20.5] Over against these forces, the principal body of the Mexicans formed two lines with heavy reserves behind them and cavalry in the rear, while Mexican artillery was planted on the road and also on the high ground east of it; and Miñón's brigade, the duty of which was to cut off the American retreat, showed itself early in the day at the rear of Buena Vista.[20.6] On each side the engineers reconnoitred actively, and both Taylor and Wool visited and addressed the various American corps.[20.8]

Apparently there was an opportunity to outflank our left, and without waiting for all his tired troops to come up, Santa Anna despatched Ampudia with a considerable force of light infantry, well supported, to seize a promising bench at the foot of the mountain. To defeat this movement the Americans attempted to occupy the point first, but they blundered and failed. Colonel Marshall then had a part of his force ascend a spur of the mountain which joined near the summit a spur leading down to the Mexican position, hoping in this way to outflank the enemy; but the Mexicans, who were gradually reinforced, adopted the same tactics.[20.8]

At about three o'clock a shell from a Mexican howitzer planted on the road gave the signal for combat; and the troops on the mountain opened fire, climbing higher and higher until finally the Mexicans, getting the better of Marshall, reached the crest. Meanwhile Captain O'Brien, with three of Washington's eight guns and the Second Indiana under Colonel Bowles for support, was posted well forward on the plateau, and a movement on the left wing of the Mexican army led Taylor to place the Second Kentucky under Colonel McKee, two guns under Bragg and a detachment of horse on the opposite side of the valley; but after a time, concluding that Santa Anna would attempt nothing more that day, he returned to Saltillo,[20.7] escorted by the Mississippi regiment and a body of the Second Dragoons.[20.8]

At nightfall the roar of musketry on the sierra, answered by the sharp crack of the American rifles, subsided, and Marshall's troops were recalled to the foot of the mountain. Aside from losing a number of men, while on our part none were seriously injured, the Mexicans clearly had the best of it so far. Santa Anna delivered a stirring harangue to his troops; and the enthusiastic vivas and triumphant music that followed it, softened by distance, floated down to the Americans on the evening breeze in wondrously sweet and haunting tones. Pleasure ended, however, when they died away. Though so many strong men, soon to fight for their lives, were present, the solitude of the desert seemed to reign. The night air was bitterly cold. A drizzling rain fell. Except at the mountain there was no fuel. The tents of the Americans were now in the wagons, and the Mexicans had none; and long before daybreak the troops on both sides felt ready for anything that would stop their teeth from chattering. For our men especially it was a dismal situation, and the reported statement of a captured Mexican that Santa Anna had 21,000 troops gave Taylor's army no mental comfort.[20.8]

[THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA]

Early the next morning, February 23, Santa Anna had the reveille sounded in his various corps one after another, in order to give an impression of great numbers. Mass was then celebrated. All his infantry and cavalry were drawn up in one long line. The bands, massed in front, rendered the sacred music with grand effect; the smoke of incense mounted to the clear, radiant sky; and a body of priests in splendid robes passed along the line, bestowing their benedictions.[20.19]

The troops then moved to their places with deliberation and precision, for whether they could shoot or not, Mexican soldiers were always able to march and wheel. Evolution followed evolution. Eminence beyond eminence bristled with steel. All the colors of the rainbow--red, green, yellow, crimson, sky-blue, turkey-blue--clothed the troops. Even the horses appeared to be in uniform, for those of a corps were alike in color. Silken banners and plumes of many bright hues floated on the breeze. Handsomely dressed aides dashed from point to point. Tremendous vivas rolled in mighty echoes from the mountain. And while Santa Anna thus built up the morale of his army, most of the dingy Americans had time enough--as the quartermasters were knocking in the heads of the cartridge casks and the sergeants gruffly dealing out flints--to view this grand pageant through the wonderfully clear atmosphere, and reflect. Out of the desert, as if by magic, had come a great and brilliant army. It was not what they had expected to see. The mere breath of its approach had blown the Americans from Agua Nueva like dust. In comparison with its deliberation and confidence their own hasty movements appeared ridiculous. The Mexicans had already been successful at the mountain, and the General was plainly alarmed about the rear. They began to question his infallibility; and many felt in their hearts that religion was on the other side.[20.19]

At an early hour a large part of Marshall's command, supported presently by Major Traill with two companies of the Second Illinois and Conner's Texas company, reascended the mountain and, favored by the nature of the ground, maintained for several hours a brisk fight with Ampudia, who, reinforced with heavy infantry, succeeded at last in outflanking though not in repulsing the Americans. To aid his operations in this quarter, perhaps, by creating a diversion, Santa Anna ordered General Blanco to advance down the road with a heavy column, strongly backed with cannon placed in battery near the mouth of the broad ravine; but at every discharge of Washington's guns whole lines of Mexicans appeared to sink, and the column, unable to deploy, soon fled for shelter to the hilly ground on its right.[20.19]

A stronger attack, however, was now launched. Pacheco and Lombardini received orders to advance, unite on the plateau, and force the American left; and a strong battery was planted on the Mexican right near the head of the broad ravine to coöperate with them.[20.9] Both infantry and horse marched forward boldly at parade step; and the Americans could but admire the showy uniforms, the arms which gleamed like silver, the belts white with pipeclay, and the freshly polished brasses. Pacheco soon became engaged with the Second Indiana, which--perhaps half a mile from any support except O'Brien's three guns on its right--was the corps nearest Marshall and farthest forward on the plateau; and after about half an hour of gallant fighting General Lane, in the hope of both driving Pacheco back and relieving the Indianians from the enfilading fire of the Mexican artillery, determined to have them and O'Brien advance. The latter did so; but Colonel Bowles gave and repeated an order to retreat. His retreat soon became flight,[20.10] and four companies of Arkansas mounted riflemen joined in the stampede.[20.19]

O'Brien, though he loaded with double canister, now found himself compelled to withdraw, sacrificing a 4-pounder--which had neither a sound man nor a sound horse left--but firing the other pieces as he drew them back with ropes (prolonges). The Second Illinois, commanded by Colonel Bissell, a born soldier, which was actively engaged on the plateau a long distance to O'Brien's right and rear, was then outflanked by Pacheco, and it had to retire, though in the most orderly manner, toward the edge of the plateau. Marshall's troops were now entirely separated from the rest of our army. Discovering their exposed situation they hurried from the mountain, escaped with considerable difficulty and some loss from Ampudia and the Mexican cavalry that pressed on with him, and took refuge at Buena Vista, over three miles from their position. Here, not long afterwards, a part of them helped other fugitives defeat a body of lancers under Torrejón, that attempted to raid their asylum and the wagon train;[20.11] but only a few would return to the field, and some of them rushed panic-stricken to Saltillo, crying out that all was lost.[20.19]

McKee and Bragg now made all speed from the other side of the valley to the plateau. Blanco having been repulsed, four of Hardin's companies came from the first spur. The squadron of the First Dragoons arrived; and Bragg, Sherman and O'Brien, handling their eight guns in a masterly style, drew a line of fire from the first gulch to the long ravine. La Angostura and the first spur, the double key to the American position, were thus well defended; but our left had been crushed, the way to our rear lay open, and in spite of our incessant fire Ampudia, Pacheco and Lombardini advanced. "One more charge!" cried the Mexicans. Apparently Santa Anna was to triumph.[20.19]

At this point, about nine o'clock, Taylor and his escort appeared most fortunately on the scene.[20.12] The General, mounted on Old Whitey, stationed himself conspicuously on the plateau near the first spur with the dragoons that accompanied him; but the Mississippi men, to whom Colonel Bowles and a part of his regiment now attached themselves, marched from the road in their duck trousers with red shirts outside of them, swinging along with the light step of hunters, threw themselves against Ampudia and the cavalry with him in the north field, repulsed them although greatly outnumbered, and, aided by the Third Indiana, which had been standing in reserve behind Washington, and by one of Bragg's guns under Lieutenant Kilburn, forced them back by a withering fire toward the mountain.[20.19]

By this time a strong Mexican battery had been moved round the head of the broad ravine by dint of extraordinary exertions, and planted near the mountain, where it commanded the entire plateau; but in spite of the skilful San Patricio company--American deserters--who partly or wholly manned it, the Pacheco-Lombardini column broke almost in the middle under the American fire, the larger part of it advancing into the north field and reinforcing Ampudia, while the other part--bearing with it Santa Anna, whose horse had been killed by a canister ball, and suffering terribly from our cannon and the close pursuit of Hardin, Bissell and McKee--shrank back toward the broad ravine. The situation on the plateau thus became easy. Shelter from the Mexican artillery could be found in the minor ravines; bread, water and ammunition were brought up; and the wounded were removed. But there was great danger now that the large Mexican forces north of the long ravine would either fall upon Washington's rear or, joining hands with Miñón, capture the American stores and ammunition at Saltillo. Leaving O'Brien's two guns and one each of their own on the plateau, therefore, Bragg and Sherman were ordered to the north field.[20.19]

Here, soon after noon, a brigade of Mexican cavalry supported by infantry pushed resolutely forward to gain the Saltillo road near the long ravine. In order to find a better position and avoid the danger of being enveloped, the Mississippians retired some distance; but soon they halted, and with the Indiana men, who now rejoined them, formed an obtuse angle opening toward the mountain. Upon this obstacle the Mexican cavalry, drawn up in a close column, rushed down at an easy gallop in the most beautiful style, drawing small circles in the air with the glittering points of their lances. These men, too, were brilliantly uniformed, the horses were lavishly caparisoned, and all the plumes and flags and pennons were fluttering. Had they maintained their impetus, they could have carried all before them; but the attitude of the Americans, who made no attempt to form a square and merely stood still with shouldered arms, puzzled the Mexican leader. He wondered, probably, what there might be in the ravine close by them, and slackening speed he almost halted, about seventy yards away, at the very focus of their angle.[20.19]

But suddenly the muskets and rifles were levelled. Each man picked his target, and at the word "Fire!"--just as the Mexican bugler sounded the charge--two sheets of flame converged on that splendid brigade. The head of it fell to the ground, and the rest were thrown into confusion. Then the Mississippi men leaped forward, yelling wildly, seized horses by the bits, threw them back on their haunches, and finished many a helpless rider with the 18-inch bowie-knife, while the Indianians fired and plied the bayonet, and Sherman, coming up with a howitzer, blasted out wide, red gaps. The onslaught was irresistible; the whole brigade with its infantry support recoiled; and the victors pressed on in pursuit.[20.19]

A deafening thunderstorm of rain and hail now burst upon the contending armies, but the battle in the north field hardly paused. While Sherman accompanied the right of the Mississippi and Indiana men, Bragg and a body of dragoons flanked their left;[20.13] the American artillery on the plateau, having little to do there, turned its attention upon the same dense masses; and gradually this whole force of Mexicans was driven back to the mountain. Retiring then into a recess of the sierra, they became more and more closely concentrated, and the American fire more and more destructive; but as the lancers had been stabbing their wounded enemies, no pity was felt on our side now.[20.19]

Nothing but annihilation appeared to await the panic-stricken mass; but precisely at this juncture--about one o'clock--several Mexican officers, who had been separated from their troops, galloped up to Taylor in the desperate hope of saving their lives, and asked in the name of Santa Anna what the American general wanted.[20.14] Upon this Wool himself rode with a white flag toward the spot where Santa Anna was supposed to be, in order to ascertain the meaning of this extraordinary question, and to a considerable extent the American fire ceased. As the Mexican guns, however, kept at work, Wool returned; but during this lull the troops imprisoned in the recess passed rapidly along the base of the mountain, girdling it with a belt of shining steel, toward the San Patricio battery. Their escape was deeply regretted, but at all events the north field was now clear of them.[20.19]

From the first, Santa Anna had been determined to gain the American rear, doubtless believing that if taken in reverse the volunteers would certainly give way, and he had succeeded in completely outflanking us; yet Ampudia's light brigade, the heavy infantry, Torrejón's cavalry, and the brilliant corps of lancers that attacked the Mississippi and Indiana troops had all failed. Upset, perhaps, by this disappointment, he threw away his chance of triumph, for he should have coöperated with his brave troops in the north field by hurling upon the American centre all the forces that could be gathered on the south field and the plateau.[20.15] But now, for a last and crowning effort, he assembled these forces, placed them under the command of General Pérez, and advanced the battery on his right flank to an elevated position.[20.19]

Unwittingly Taylor played into his hands, for now--about four o'clock--he ordered Hardin to charge;[20.16] and the brave colonel, whose finely cut, virile face, jet-black eye and tightly closed lips told what he was, advanced promptly with his six companies. This movement brought him before long into contact with the Mexicans from the recess, who, observing the smallness of his command, rallied against him. Bissell and McKee, seeing that he was overmatched, hastened to his aid, and all three pushed vigorously forward; but suddenly queer objects appeared to be moving along the surface of the plateau at their right, and in another moment out of the ground rose a forest of muskets. This was the corps of Pérez emerging from the broad ravine. Hardin, Bissell and McKee poured upon it a hot fire. So did O'Brien with his two 6-pounders, and Chickamauga Thomas with one of Sherman's pieces. But the fire of the Mexicans, one terrific blaze and roar, was this time low and true. The air seemed thick with their bullets. Some of the Kentucky men dropped to the ground to escape them. "Up, up and on!" cried McKee, and with frantic cheers they sprang again to their work.[20.19]

But they fought in vain. The odds were too great, and the Americans too exhausted. "Retreat or you are lost!" was the order; and the three regiments, enveloped by the left wing of Pérez, rushed and rolled in headlong flight down the second gulch toward the road. Here the fearless Hardin, defending himself to the last with a sabre, his only weapon, sank to the ground. Here the son of Henry Clay, wounded in the thigh, refused to let his men imperil their lives by trying to carry him farther, and bravely met his fate; and here fell the gallant McKee, covered with wounds. Indeed, all seemed to be doomed alike, for lancers hurried on to close the mouth of the gulch; but suddenly Washington's guns opened with spherical case shot, and under this driving, hissing blast of iron the Americans ran breathless to La Angostura.[20.19]

On the plateau, during this catastrophe, the right wing of Pérez bore down upon Taylor's position at the centre. Nothing formidable stood in its way except O'Brien, for Thomas was fully occupied about one hundred yards to O'Brien's left and rear. Understanding the crisis and ready to sacrifice everything if he could only gain a little time, O'Brien fired canister till not one of his gunners was left, and the Mexicans could almost lay hands on the pieces, and then just managed to hobble away. The Mexicans now swept on at a run. The fragments at our centre were on the point of giving way. The day seemed lost.[20.19]

But by this time Bragg and Sherman, lashing and spurring their tired horses, came up from the north field; and the Indiana and Mississippi regiments, hurrying over the ridges and ravines with trailed arms, appeared on their left some distance away. Without support Bragg whirled his guns into battery only a few rods from the enemy, and Sherman followed his example, while the infantry charged the Mexican flank and rear; and quickly, but none too soon, canister and bullets told. Round followed round, and volley pursued volley. The infantry shook with fatigue; the men at the cannon, grimy with powder-stains, gasped for air as they rammed the charges home; but they all kept at work.[20.19]

Bravely fought the Mexicans, too; but such a staggering fire could not be resisted, and soon the dark masses of Pérez's column reeled back in confusion to the broad ravine. It was now about five o'clock. Our artillery continued to play for a while on the San Patricio battery, but even Miñón, who had been making feeble demonstrations against Saltillo, was by this time thoroughly repulsed,[20.17] and the roar of battle subsided. The terrible conflict was in fact over. Both armies were too exhausted to fight longer, and in the narrow valley day was already waning.

"The guns still roared at intervals; but silence fell at last, And on the dead and dying came the evening shadows fast; And then above the mountains rose the pale moon's silver shield, And patiently and pitying she looked upon the field."[20.19]

[THE BATTLE EXTRAORDINARY]

It was an extraordinary battle. On the part of the Americans it began in flight and ended in success. Marred by mistakes and failures, it exhibited even more strikingly both skill and moral grandeur. Taylor seems to have had but little to do with directing it, and that little seems to have been poor work; but he did more than engineer success--he created it. Huddled rather than mounted, a great part of the time, on Old Whitey, with arms folded and one leg unconcernedly thrown across the pommel of his saddle, the conspicuous target of the Mexican artillery yet utterly unmoved even when his clothes were pierced, he was a fountain of courage and energy.[20.18] In other words, the victory of Buena Vista was due primarily to Taylor's prestige, valor and gift of inspiring confidence. Others contributed essentially, however. Wool, who commanded on our left, played the rôle of the fearless professional soldier that he was. Many other officers and certain corps exhibited a heroism of the noblest quality. Our artillery was beyond praise for both daring and skill. As Wool said in his report, the army could not have stood for "a single hour" without it; and the batteries served indispensably, moreover, as rallying-points for the infantry. The lancers, cantering over the plain and finishing the American wounded, gave great assistance by exasperating and warning our men; and even Miñón helped us, for he made it look extremely dangerous, during much of the time, to set out for Saltillo.[20.19]

Nor should our foes be undervalued. While it was said afterwards that a number of the higher officers did badly, the troops earned by their wonderful march, their endurance of hunger and especially thirst, and their valiant fighting under the terrible fire of the American artillery, a liberal mead of praise. In fact, when due allowance is made for the numbers of their almost valueless cavalry and for the position, equipment, supplies and comparative freshness of the Americans, one finds the two armies not very unevenly matched, and so far as fighting was concerned, the engagement proved almost or perhaps quite a drawn battle.[20.19]

Then followed a night almost as hard as the day. In killed and wounded Taylor had lost 673 officers and men,[20.20] and in spite of his personal influence 1500 or 1800 appear to have quit the field. Those who remained, fatigued not only by their exertions but in consequence of the rarefied atmosphere, found themselves at the end of their strength, both physical and moral. Evidently the Mexicans were not so contemptible. Only one of our regiments had kept its face always toward the enemy. Some of the bravest leaders had fallen. The death of so many comrades depressed all. In too many cases officers had lost confidence in their men, or men in their officers. Many home letters were written that night, and they were all despondent. The howl of the wolf and the creaking flap of the buzzard reached the very souls of the sleepless men shivering in the cold. Wool felt compelled to use the flat of his sword on some of the officers, and even that did not make them stir. Officer after officer assured Taylor that no more fighting could be done, or that it would mean defeat if attempted.[20.24]

Not for a moment, however, would the General admit this. He was determined to hold the ground, querying only whether Santa Anna would turn the American position during the night or make another frontal attack in the morning.[20.21] The Mississippi regiment was ordered to Saltillo, while most of the troops holding the city were drawn to the front; and a detachment of the Kentucky mounted volunteers with four heavy guns, marching that night from Rinconada Pass, thirty-five miles distant, could be reckoned on. But the General felt deeply mortified by the skulking, and wondered how many men would give him the slip before morning.[20.24]

[SANTA ANNA RETIRES]

Still more bitter were the reflections of Santa Anna. His passionate nature ebbed and flowed, and a reverse always depressed him extremely. He was tired out, and his old wound had begun to make him trouble. Probably not less than 1800 of his men had been killed or wounded; 294 had been captured; and he was probably not far from the mark when he said that more than 4000 had left him during the battle.[20.22] He felt that the American position, defended by men whose fighting compelled his admiration, was impregnable. Mexican troops always lacked morale for long, and especially for unsuccessful, operations; and the troops under his command were now spent in every way. Confidence in their leader and in the hope of booty failed them. They remembered how they had been forced into the ranks and then abused. Surprised by an infantry that seemed to recognize no defeat, they were dumfounded by an artillery that seemed to be everywhere at once and always blazing. Hunger, thirst, and cold tormented them.[20.24]

Such conditions meant wholesale desertion; and, as a Mexican officer wrote that evening, it was a grave question whether the troops, if left overnight in their present loose and scattered state, would not disband.[20.23] The country would then be without a disciplined army to oppose either Taylor or Scott; and Santa Anna knew what his enemies would say in that case. If, on the other hand, he should lead back an organized force bearing the recognized fruits of victory, two banners and three cannon, he could claim a success even if not a positive triumph. So, leaving behind the wounded that were not within easy reach or could not well be transported, he closed up his ranks not long after nightfall, and set out for Agua Nueva. At first the march was like a funeral procession, except that dead men appeared to be celebrating their own obsequies. Nobody spoke; the bands were silent; the groans of the wounded and the rumble of the artillery and wagons took the place of conversation and music. But before long the slender crescent of the moon sank behind the mountain; and then in the greatest confusion the men stumbled and hurried along, eager to find a resting place.[20.24]

Of this movement the American outposts were not aware. A Mexican brigade kept fires burning along the whole front, and pickets rode steadily to and fro singing to themselves a strange, sad air. When the first pale gleam was visible above the sierra, our soldiers bestirred themselves for another battle. But as the day began to grow, only the backs of a Mexican rearguard could be seen. A joyous murmur ran from group to group. Soon it was confirmed; it swelled to a shout; hard-featured, battle-worn men became boys again; and Taylor and Wool threw themselves, with moist eyes, into each other's arms.[20.24]

[THE MEXICAN RETREAT]

About 860 officers and 9000 men gathered round Santa Anna that forenoon at Agua Nueva. Temporary supplies of food were available,[20.25] and the troops were at once reorganized by combining companies from different corps. Before the day was out Major Bliss arrived to propose an exchange of prisoners and suggest an end of hostilities.[20.26] To the former proposition Santa Anna acceded, but he rejected the latter; and, ordering the eyes of the American commissioner to be unbound, he exhibited to him an army prepared for battle. In general orders he stated that his purpose in retiring had been to draw Taylor upon ground where Mexican cavalry could operate; but, as the prospect of resuming the offensive was extremely slight, provisions were scanty, the dysentery had already broken out, and the presence of so many wounded men--more than 700 poor fellows in the most wretched condition--seemed liable to produce other diseases, a council of war decided the next day upon retreat, and February 26 in the afternoon the troops moved south.[20.27]

Now came their real defeat. Like Napoleon returning from Russia, Santa Anna hurried on in advance, and owing to complications there was actually no general-in-chief. Divisions and corps marched and lived as they could. Officers obeyed or disobeyed as they chose. Dysentery, typhus and all sorts of minor distresses prevailed. The condition of the troops was enough to make nature shudder, wrote an officer; and the march was "worse than three retreats from Matamoros put together." Probably not less than 3000 men were lost in one way or another on the road; and when the miserable survivors--less than half the number that had left San Luis full of enthusiasm--began to arrive in that city, the sensation among the people was described by a witness as "most profound." Santa Anna, however, had already been accorded triumphal honors there. By this time a wave of jubilation, soon to break in plaudits on the far-distant shores of Tabasco River, was in motion; and he took pains to ensure proper testimony by having a cross of honor decreed to every officer distinguished in the battle, and by distributing twenty-seven promotions in the three highest grades.[20.27]

For Taylor also the battle of Buena Vista had a sequel. Impressed, very likely, by the report of Bliss, he allowed his army to rest where it was for three days; but late on the twenty-seventh, having ascertained Santa Anna's retreat through a reconnaissance, he reoccupied Agua Nueva, where he found a number of Mexican wounded, and on March 1--though his troops were not yet fresh enough to pursue the enemy or he did not think it safe to do so--he pushed a detachment on to La Encarnación with a like result. Provisions and surgical assistance were freely given to the disabled foemen, but their comrades were evidently beyond reach.[20.29]

Taylor's rear, however, caused him rather serious trouble. The long shadow cast by Santa Anna's army had spread alarm and confusion all over northeastern Mexico, and the approach of troops from Tula deepened it. Even the people of Monclova and Parras, despite their promises to be neutral, took up arms. The Americans were now to be driven across the Rio Grande and perhaps the Sabine, it was threatened. Preparations for defence were made at all our chief posts, and for this reason they were hardly molested; but the lines of communication could not be maintained, detachments en route were menaced or assailed, and on the day following the battle Urrea, a polished ruffian of the distinctive Spanish-American type, broke up a large wagon train with signal atrocity.[20.28] The rancheros coöperated eagerly in this profitable work, and the result of the battle had little effect upon them, for they had seen the Mexican army come and go at will, and doubtless thought it might appear again. Taylor therefore proceeded to Monterey about the eighth of March, and endeavored to restore order. On the twenty-eighth he reported that quiet had returned; but three weeks later, though he believed that Urrea and his regulars had withdrawn beyond the Sierra Madre, he admitted that bands of robbers were still very numerous.[20.29]

Nor was the panic limited to this region. Almost equal alarm prevailed in the United States. "The sympathy of every human being is elicited," wrote Brooke at New Orleans; and the government itself, hurrying off recruits and authorizing Brooke to accept new volunteers, awaited in "painful suspense" the result of Santa Anna's advance. The tidings of his failure, exaggerated of course into news of a brilliant and overwhelming triumph won by a general robbed of his troops, caused a tremendous rebound. Polk, holding that only Taylor's blundering and violation of orders had created the peril, and that his brave men had rescued him from it, would not permit a general salute in the army; but the nation saluted, and the General's nomination for the Presidency became inevitable.[20.29]

NOTES

KEY TO THE REFERENCES

In most cases it will not be difficult to determine where the MS. sources are preserved. Despatches to or from a military or naval officer, a diplomatic or a consular agent may be understood, if there is no indication to the contrary, to be in the corresponding archives of the government addressed. (The connection of the author of a despatch may be ascertained by looking up his name in the index.) This direction may seem vague, but the officials at the archives will be found able to supply the needful details. The principal foreign agents in Mexico were (U. S.) Poinsett, Butler, Ellis, Thompson, Shannon, Slidell, and (consuls) Jones, Black, and Dimond; (England) Morier, Ward, Pakenham, Ashburnham, Bankhead, Doyle, Thornton, and (consul) Giffard; (France) Cochelet, Martin, Deffaudis, and Cyprey; and (Spain) Bermúdez de Castro and Lozano. Mexican documents cited in the form "To S. Anna, Apr. 20" or "S. Anna, Mar. 4," are in the archives of the War Dept. of Mexico, National Palace. Many unofficial letters can readily be traced by means of the list of MS. sources. When it has seemed desirable, however, particularly at the beginning of a chapter, heavy figures referring to that list have been prefixed to the citation, and also to many citations of official documents. The MS. sources are given in the appendix of each volume; the printed sources in the appendix of the second volume.

A formula like "Ho. 60; 30, 1" means House Executive Document no. 60, of the Thirtieth Congress, first session; and "Cong. Globe, 30, 2" refers to the Congressional Globe, Thirtieth Congress, second session. In some cases it has been found best to cite a document broadly by mentioning the first page of it; and the same remark applies to passages in other publications. The year in the date of a cited document is omitted when it is the same as that of the events referred to in the corresponding paragraph of the text. E.g. a document dated Oct. 15, 1847, attached to a paragraph dealing with Scott's landing at Vera Cruz (March, 1847) or capturing Mexico City (Sept., 1847) is cited as of "Oct. 15," not "Oct. 15, 1847." This is done to save space. The abbreviations are plain. "Gov." means governor; "comte. gen.," comandante general; "comte. mil." comandante militar. "Gov. Puebla," etc., means governor of Puebla, etc. "Diario" means the official newspaper. For fuller titles of books the list of sources may be consulted.

The want of definiteness and the lack of statistics in numerous cases (particularly Mexican affairs) may be charged to a dearth of trustworthy data.

NOTES

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