THE WAR WITH MEXICO

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

The
Annexation of Texas

Octavo ix + 496 pages
By mail, postpaid, $3.00

This is the only work attempting to deal thoroughly with an affair that was intrinsically far more important than had previously been supposed, and was also of no little significance on account of its relation to the war with Mexico.

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

THE

WAR WITH MEXICO

BY

JUSTIN H. SMITH

FORMERLY PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY
AT DARTMOUTH COLLEGE
AUTHOR OF “THE ANNEXATION OF TEXAS,” “OUR
STRUGGLE FOR THE FOURTEENTH COLONY,”
“ARNOLD’S MARCH FROM
CAMBRIDGE TO QUEBEC,”
ETC.

VOLUME II

New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1919

All rights reserved

Copyright, 1919,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and printed. Published December, 1919.

Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.–Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II

MAPS AND PLANS IN VOLUME TWO

As equally good sources disagree sometimes, a few inconsistencies are unavoidable. Numerous errors have been corrected. An asterisk indicates an unpublished source. Statements, cited in the notes, have also been used.

CONSPECTUS OF EVENTS

THE PRONUNCIATION OF SPANISH

The niceties of the matter would be out of place here, but a few general rules may prove helpful.

A as in English “ah”; e, at the end of a syllable, like a in “fame,” otherwise like e in “let”; i like i in “machine”; o, at the end of a syllable, like o in “go,” otherwise somewhat like o in “lot”; u like u in “rude” (but, unless marked with two dots, silent between g or q and e or i); y like ee in “feet.”

C like k (but, before e and i, like [A]th in “thin”); ch as in “child”; g as in “go” (but, before e and i, like a harsh h); h silent; j like a harsh h; ll like [B]lli in “million”; ñ like ni in “onion”; qu like k; r is sounded with a vibration (trill) of the tip of the tongue (rr a longer and more forcible sound of the same kind); s as in “sun”; x like x in “box” (but, in “México” and a few other names, like Spanish j); z like [A] “thin.”

Words bearing no mark of accentuation are stressed on the last syllable if they end in any consonant except n or s, but on the syllable next to the last if they end in n, s or a vowel.

MEXICO IN 1919

[Larger image]

THE WAR WITH MEXICO

XXI
BEHIND THE SCENES AT MEXICO
September, 1846–March, 1847

The revolution of August 4, as already has been suggested, was a complex and inconsistent affair, combining most heterogeneous elements: the popular institutions of 1824 and the autocratic power of the soldier upheld with bayonets; the army and the people, whose relations had always been, and in Mexico always had to be, those of wolf and lamb; the regular troops and the National Guards, who loved each other as fire loves water; General Salas reluctantly taking orders from Citizen Farías, and both of them doing obeisance to Liberator Santa Anna, whom both distrusted; and all coöperating to revive a federal constitution, which had been found in practice unworkable, and needed, in the opinion of everybody, to be redrawn.[3]

Such a state of things argued insincerity; and in fact many had taken up the cry of Federalism at this time simply because the failure of reactionary designs had made the word a popular appeal, and because—nearly all the former leaders of that school having been crushed by the Centralists—there seemed to be room for new aspirants; while the state of things indicated also that more troubles were soon to arrive, since evidently no final solution of the political problem had been achieved, and such a welter of principles, traditions and methods was a loud invitation to the demagogue and the schemer. Don Simplicio predicted that new stars were to flash out soon in the political heavens, and then disappear before the astronomers would have time to name them; and it added significantly, “The comets will be found to be all tails.”[3]

In particular the field was open for radical democracy. Calm judgment is never listened to in a period of excitement, and the Mexicans, like the French of 1792, instead of resorting to the practical Anglo-Saxon rule of compromising differences, believed in carrying principles to their logical end. Centralism and monarchical ideas had failed to render the nation happy; democracy was therefore the panacea, and the more of it the better. The demoralized condition of the people promoted this dangerous policy. Referring to all those concerned with public affairs, a thoughtful writer of the day characterized them as ignorant, destitute of honor, patriotism, morality, good faith or principles of any kind, and influenced exclusively by self-interest and ambition; and naturally men of the opposite kind held aloof in disgust and despair. For these reasons the conservative wing of the Federalists, led by Pedraza and known as the Moderados (Moderates), found itself distanced in the race for support; and the Puros—that is to say, pure Federalists and democrats—gained the ascendency at once.[3]

Their acknowledged leader, as we have seen, was the patriotic though indiscreet Farías, but he was more honest than brilliant, and a man stepped forward now who reversed that description. This man was Rejón. A keen, subtle mind, a bold, unfaltering will, a ready, plausible tongue and a tireless ambition quite indifferent about means, characterized him chiefly, and for the present crisis these were redoubtable qualifications. The Spanish minister once remarked, after conversing with him, that it was impossible to trust a person who possessed no principles except the transient interests of his ambition. And Rejón had another qualification that was no less important. Though unworthy of confidence and everywhere distrusted, Santa Anna counted as an essential factor in all plans, a power that each party felt it must have; and Rejón was believed at this time to represent Santa Anna.[3]

POLITICS AT MEXICO

The aims and to some extent the methods of the radical faction were borrowed from the United States, but without regard to differences of race, experience and present circumstances. Government, they maintained, should be completely democratic and completely secular; and they dreamed of this consummation almost voluptuously, as a Mussulman dreams of paradise. They held public meetings, where everybody was free to speak; and in these disorderly gatherings they discussed religious freedom, the seizure of Church property, the reformation of the clergy, the secularization of marriage and education, the necessity of destroying military domination in politics, and the capital punishment of all suspected monarchists. In short, from the conservative point of view, they passed sentence of death on society. Santa Anna did not sympathize with their programme. He wished society to live—for him, and he was conducting now an equivocal correspondence with men hostile to the Puros. But it probably suited his purpose to have them succeed for a time, and to have the substantial citizens add to their litany, “From Rejón deliver us, good Lord!” He himself had played the part of the Lord before now, and was willing to do so again, though he preferred the more terrestrial name of dictator.[3]

Of course property felt the menace, and it had reason to do so. During the latter part of September, 1846, an editorial in the official journal, commonly attributed to Rejón, intimated that if the rich did not contribute for the war, the people would know where to find their wealth; and even foreign houses were threatened. The British minister forced a prompt retraction of this language so far, at least, as his fellow-countrymen were concerned; but within two weeks a number of capitalists were invited to loan $200,000 with an intimation that, unless they did so, the money would be taken. Every one understood that the leopard, though now comparatively silent, had not changed his spots and would not, and hence four élite militia corps, familiarly known as the Polkos, were formed at Mexico to protect life and property. One of these, called the Victoria battalion, was composed of merchants, professional men and scions from wealthy families. Another, which bore the name of Hidalgo, consisted of clerks; and the Bravos and Independencia battalions, made up largely of artisans, represented the industrial interests of the city. The ministry, who desired to exclude such persons from the National Guard, opposed the recognition of these corps; but, supported by Salas, the substantial citizens carried the day.[3]

An equally natural reaction caused by radical violence was political. In the hope of welding the Federalists into a harmonious party, the council of government had been revived, and members of both wings had been appointed to it. Santa Anna, in order to establish his particular friend Haro at the head of the treasury, next proposed to transfer Farías from that office to the presidency of the council. This was understood—correctly, no doubt--as a move to eliminate him virtually from the government, and was fiercely denounced; but Santa Anna then remarked that should Salas for any reason drop out, the president of the council would take his place at the head of the government, and Pedraza could have the post in case Farías preferred to remain as he was.[1] This put a new look on the matter, and the programme was carried out; but the Puro attacks upon their rivals continued to excite bitter resentment. When it was arranged that Farías and Pedraza should publicly shake hands, and crowds gathered to witness the amazing ceremony, it failed to occur. The Moderados belonging to the council resigned; the body ceased to enjoy prestige and influence; and Farías lost all official power. Naturally some of the blame for this result was laid to the charge of the Pedrazists. Partisan rancor grew still more savage. The fury of the French revolution was rivalled. “We must finish with our enemies or die ourselves,” cried one factional organ; “the scaffold must be raised; we must drink their hearts’ blood.” Bankhead described the situation as one of “universal terror and distrust.”[3]

About the middle of October there came an explosion. Apparently Rejón demanded that Salas initiate the Puro reforms, and the acting Executive, who was not only weak and incompetent but obstinate, resented the pressure, and turned his face toward the Moderados. To the Puros this looked reactionary, and he was charged with a design to prevent Congress from assembling. Next it was required of Salas that he should give way to Farías as the representative of the new régime, and probably there were threats at least of bringing this change about, if necessary, through an insurrection of the populace.[2] Then Salas, with the Hidalgo battalion of which he was the commander, took possession of the citadel. The people, alarmed by rumors that a sack was contemplated, flew to arms; and Rejón found it necessary to moderate his tone.[3]

AN EXPLOSION

When the Executive, as was inevitable, dismissed him from office, he submitted; and Santa Anna himself, though his orders to Rejón had been to hold the post whatever Salas might do, found public sentiment at the capital too strong for him, and concluded to accept the change. Rejón’s conduct had excited so much dissension and alarm, that his removal gratified all sensible persons at Mexico. The rumors and the disturbance were now attributed officially to agents of the United States, and comparative quiet returned.[3]

The aims of Santa Anna and those of the Puros may have been exactly contrary in these events; but both overshot the mark, and they suffered a common loss of prestige. As one method of restoring it, they induced the governors of San Luis Potosí and Querétaro to declare that within their jurisdictions the Liberator would be recognized as head of the nation until the assembling of Congress; but their principal scheme was to carry the Presidential election. Congress, chosen on the first day of November, was to elect, and it consisted chiefly of men termed by well-to-do citizens “the dregs of society”—that is to say, poorly educated radicals taken from the masses.[3]

This appeared to ensure a Puro triumph, yet there were serious difficulties. Rejón had been discredited, and the former administration of Farías had left painful memories. Besides, it was feared that his election would offend Santa Anna, who of course was not on very cordial terms now with the tribune of the people, and preferred to have a weak man like Salas, with whom satisfactory relations had grown out of the Rejón episode, continue in power. At one time Almonte seemed to be the Puro favorite; but finally it was decided to cast the Presidential vote for Santa Anna, who could not legally hold the chief political and the chief military offices at the same time and would no doubt remain with the army, and to elect Farías to the Vice Presidency as the actual executive.[3]

Even this combination, however, met with strong and unexpected opposition. The conservatives and moderates were naturally against it; certain states—for the voting was done by these quasi sovereignties as units—could not forgive Santa Anna for past misdeeds, and the powerful Church party looked upon Farías as Antichrist. Finally Escudero of Chihuahua, whose delegation held the balance of power, opened negotiations with Farías, and that gentleman declared in writing his willingness to “join loyally” with any one who desired “in good faith the welfare of the country.” Holding this instrument—a weapon, should there be need of it—in their hands, a number of the Moderados, who realized his honesty, vigor and good intentions, and believed now that he would give them a share in the administration, accepted the Puro candidates, and on December 22 by a narrow majority these were elected. The news produced a commotion; but without encountering serious opposition Farías took up the reins of government at once.[3]

His primary aim was to support the war. This he intended to do because he felt an ardent patriotism, but other reasons also lay in his mind. Abominating the military class, he desired to have as many as possible of the corrupt officers left on the field, and he designed to keep the army so busy, that it would not be able to prevent the states, which were generally Federalist and democratic in sentiment, from organizing their strength, and making sure that no tyrannical central power would ever raise its front again. But the first requirement for military operations was money. Farías had, therefore, to take up immediately the financial problem, and he found it most difficult.[3]

Of all the fields of Mexican misgovernment the worst had been the treasury, for it not only required a care and a good judgment that were peculiarly foreign to the national temperament, but provided opportunities for illegitimate gains that were most congenial. During Spanish rule the needs of the country had been fully met, and about nine millions a year, almost half of the revenues, left as a surplus. Under Itúrbide a financial system which three centuries of able administration had built up was despised, and with mines abandoned, agriculture discouraged, commerce paralyzed, honesty relaxed, taxes diminished for the sake of popularity, and expenses increased for the sake of glory, the foundations of ruin were promptly laid. The logical superstructure soon mounted high in the shape of two British loans, which bound Mexico to pay about twenty-six million dollars in return for about fifteen, a large part of which was practically thrown away by her agents.[5]

FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES

The expulsion of the rich and thrifty Spaniards, the costs of civil wars, in which the nation paid for both sides, unwise and unstable fiscal systems, borrowing at such rates as four per cent a month, incredibly bad management,[4] and methods of accounting that made it impossible for the minister of the treasury to know the actual state of things, were enough to complete the edifice; but they were supplemented with peculation, embezzlement, multiplication of offices, collusion between importers and customhouses, and systematic smuggling winked at by half-starved officials. Revenue after revenue was mortgaged, and by 1845 the government found itself entitled to only about thirteen per cent of what entered the treasury.[5]

Since the beginning of hostilities our blockade, assisted by new methods of wholesale smuggling, had greatly reduced the income from duties, which had always been the principal reliance; the adoption of the federal system had given the best part of the internal revenue to the states; and the residue was almost wholly eaten up by the officials. The foreign debt amounted now to more than fifty millions and the domestic debt was nearly twice as great. Every known source of income had been anticipated. Freewill offerings had proved illusory. By ceasing to make payments on account of the debt in May, 1846, the government had largely increased its income, of course, but it had forfeited all title to financial sympathy; and the high officials, who robbed the treasury still in this time of supreme distress, had stripped it of all title to respect.[5]

The government, therefore, had no real credit. Men who made this kind of gambling their business would now and then furnish a little money for a brief term at an exorbitant rate. In February, 1846, for example, a loan was placed at a total sacrifice of about thirty-seven per cent. But when the treasury was authorized to borrow fifteen millions in a regular way, nobody cared to furnish any part of the sum. New taxes were equally vain. In October, 1846, the government imposed a special war “contribution” in order to save the Mexicans, it explained, from becoming foreigners in their own country, like the Spaniards of Florida; and the chief result was to enrage a handful of persons, who found they had been silly enough to pay while almost everybody else had laughed. In November a forced loan was demanded of the clergy, but the project aroused such opposition that substantially it had to be given up. The whole gamut of methods, even violence, has been tried in vain, said the ministry in December. Business was dead, confidence gone, capital in hiding or sojourning abroad; and if by good luck a bag of silver dropped into the treasury, it seemed to evaporate instantly. Financially, reported the Spanish minister, the situation of the country was “truly frightful.”[5]

To make it more, not less, frightful, there did exist one vast accumulation of riches. This was the property belonging to the Church. No one could seriously deny that the nation had authority to use, in a time of dire need, funds that had been given to the organization in days of plenty, for this was a principle of Spanish law, and the Crown had exercised the right without so good an excuse. There was also a particular reason in the present instance, for the wealth of the Church, aside from articles used in worship, consisted mainly of land, and, as virtually no land tax existed in Mexico, it was escaping the common burden—a burden, too, that was peculiarly for its advantage, since in the case of American conquest it was bound to lose its exclusive privileges. Besides, there was the saying of its Founder, “Freely ye have received, freely give.”[5]

THE POLICY OF FARÍAS

Very naturally, then, people had been casting their eyes for some time at the riches of the Church. In June, 1844, El Siglo XIX, the most thoughtful newspaper of Mexico, had suggested raising funds for the Texas war by mortgaging some of its property; and a few months later Duff Green, then on the ground, had expressed the opinion that Mexico would have to choose between that resource and forced loans. In July, 1845, the correspondent of the London Times dropped a similar hint in that journal, and in the course of the year it became a popular idea, that the Church could perform a great public service, and at the same time vastly strengthen its own position, by providing means for the anticipated war against the United States. In October, 1846, the Monitor Republicano suggested once more a mortgage of ecclesiastical property; and at one time the government actually decided upon the measure. Bankhead admitted that he could see no other resource. These hints were not, however, acted upon by the clergy; and after many long discussions they would only agree to advance $10,000 or $20,000 a month for a limited period. This was to insult the nation, exclaimed the Monitor Republicano.[5]

Charged now with full responsibility, Farías met the issue squarely. Not only was he determined to carry on the war, but the letters of Santa Anna had been, and were, most urgent. November 7 the General demanded that “no step” should be neglected, if it could “help to prevent the name of Mexican from soon becoming the object of ridicule and contempt for the whole world.” “Do not reply that the government cannot obtain funds,” he wrote later; “This would be saying that the nation has ceased to exist ... so rich a nation cannot lack money enough to support its independence, nor can the government say that it has no authority to look for the money.” These letters evidently referred to ecclesiastical property, and they were followed up at New Year’s with almost daily communications of the same tenor. Such fearful urgency had a good excuse, for the government was now sending him no funds.[6]

It had none. Although Farías kept faith with Escudero, the Moderados as a party showed the radical chief no mercy; the Centralists loathed the apostle of federalism; all conservatives detested the typical democrat, and the clericals abominated the extinguisher of titles. All the old ladies thought him worse than Luther, and many of every kind and condition rebelled at his brusque and tactless ways. No person of substance would lift a finger to support his measures. A cloud of distrust, passion, hostility and mortal hatred—mostly an emanation from the whole wretched past of the country—grew thicker about him each day. Raise money he could not. Moreover he probably felt little desire to do so by any of the ordinary methods. One of his cardinal principles was the necessity of destroying the fuero, the political strength and the intellectual domination of the Church by reducing its wealth; and now the demand of Santa Anna, the army and the nation that funds be provided for the war, appeared to make this policy opportune and even irresistible.[6]

A committee of Congress reported against the plan of borrowing on the security of Church property; but that signified little, for no practical substitute was offered. There were fears that the army would break up. There were fears that for self-protection it would proclaim a dictatorship or march upon the capital. Santa Anna’s warning and threatening communications were shown to Congress. The legislators tried to evade the issue, but they were told that all the responsibility rested upon their shoulders; that it was for them to choose between the salvation and the ruin of the fatherland; and on January 7 they grappled with the problem. Behind them—tireless, uncompromising, inexorable—the Executive insisted upon action; and behind him stood Santa Anna, demanding the same thing and promising to support it.[9]

The session lasted virtually until January 11. The debates were hot, and they were bitter. To make use of the Church lands, it was argued, would invade the rights of property, lay upon one class of society the general burden, and, should the lands be sold, involve a tremendous loss of values, since there was little ready money in the country, and few would have the means and inclination to purchase. The country must be saved, answered Rejón, Juárez and their allies; is there any other resource?—point it out. “If the Yankee triumphs,” cried one speaker, “what ecclesiastical property or what religion will be left us?” And upon these principal themes were played an infinite number of variations in all the possible tones of Mexican eloquence and fury.[9]

Just before midnight on the ninth, however, the turmoil ceased; the handsome chamber of the Deputies became still. High above the throne in front glimmered pallidly the sword of Itúrbide; in letters of gold, on the semi-circular wall at the rear, all the names of the Beneméritos of Mexico reflected the subdued light; shadows filled the galleries; exhausted members half-slumbered in their chairs, and others talked wearily here and there in groups; but the stillness was momentous, for the first article of a new law had been passed, authorizing the Executive to raise fifteen millions, for the purposes of the war, by pledging—if necessary, even selling—property vested in the Church.[7] Minor discussions followed. The religious, charitable and educational work of the clergy was guarded completely; many provisions designed to hamper the realization of the main purpose were accepted in order to conciliate opposition; and at length, on January 11, the plan became law.[9]

A CRISIS AT MEXICO

“The crisis is terrible,” wrote the minister of relations two days later, and well he might. All the fierceness and intrigues of partisan politics, all the cunning of high and low finance, all the subtleties of priestcraft and all the terrors of a haughty Church came into play.[8] Freely we have received, but we will not give, and anathema to him who takes, was in effect the dictum of the prelates. For a time it looked as if no official would venture, at the peril of excommunication, to promulgate the law; but Farías and Juárez found a man, and he was appointed governor of the Federal District, in which lay the capital, for that purpose. Then came protests from the “venerable” clergy, complaints from state governments, mutinies of troops, and civilian insurrections organized by priests. Cries of “Viva la religión! Death to the government!” resounded in the streets of the capital. Ministers of state were hard to find, and they soon went out of office. Minor officials resigned so rapidly they could hardly be counted. Santa Anna, after hailing the law as the salvation of the country, turned against it. Moderados in Congress, encouraged by the outcry, hurled epithets harder than stones at the Puros.[9]

On the other hand some of the Deputies, the regular troops at the capital, who expected to profit by the law, the comandante general of Mexico, the National Guards and the democratic masses rallied to the support of the government; and Farías, his long head erect, and his face, always thoughtful and sad, now anxious but set, appealed to the patriotism of the nation, made the most of his authority as chief of the state, and held to his course with inflexible energy and courage. Not only was he determined to have the law respected, but he demanded that it should be made effective. Chaos was the result. “When we look for a ray of hope,” said El Republicano, “we discover nothing but alarms, anxieties and every probability of social dissolution.” Furious anarchy,” was Haro’s description of the scene. There must soon be a crash, he added; “the Devil is running away with us.”[9]

Peaceful interests were not, however, entirely forgotten amid this turbulence. During the second week of January Moses Y. Beach, proprietor and editor of the New York Sun, arrived at Vera Cruz from Havana. He carried a British passport. Besides his wife Mrs. Storms, a remarkably clever newspaper woman, accompanied him. Presumably she was to play the part of secretary, for Beach had large financial enterprises in mind, and confidential clerical assistance would certainly be necessary. For some reason letters were written from Cuba to Santa Anna and the authorities at Vera Cruz denouncing him as an American agent; and the party had to go through with a tedious examination of three days, for the comandante general had been expressly ordered to watch all suspicious foreigners hailing from the United States. But the ordeal was passed satisfactorily, and on the twenty-third or twenty-fourth of January Beach arrived at the capital. Letters from Roman Catholic prelates of the United States and Cuba gave him a confidential standing at once in the highest Church circles; his project of a canal across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec excited the lively interest of Santa Anna’s particular friends; and his plan for a national bank brought him into friendly relations with Farías and the other Puro leaders.[10]

Still, the presence of this agent of civilization did not restore tranquillity. On February 4 the government contrived by shrewd management to put a law through Congress, which in effect gave it autocratic power to raise five millions, and thus cut through the complications and restrictions that had rendered the action of January 11 substantially inoperative. The wrath of the Church blazed afresh. At all hazards Antichrist must be put down. Already they had concluded to supply Santa Anna with money, in return of course for his aid against Farías, and now they opened negotiations with the Moderados. This party, however, thought it would be good tactics to divide the Puros by supporting Farías, provided he would let them control his policy, and they so proposed; but the impracticable fellow, who was battling for principles and not place, declined the offer. Finally the Puros themselves, realizing that all the other factions were against their chief, decided that under his leadership they could not succeed, and resolved to throw him overboard.[11]

INSURRECTION AT MEXICO

While they were casting about for a method, a certain Person advised the clericals to offer an organized resistance against the laws of January 11 and February 4, and circumstances made that course easy. General Peña y Barragán, suspected of conspiring against the government, was placed under temporary arrest, and this made him eager to head a revolution. Farías, understanding that the Independencia battalion could not be trusted, ordered it to Vera Cruz, imagining that it would not refuse to march against the enemy. But on various more or less valid pretexts it did so; the other three élite battalions joined with it; and on February 27 they declared that Farías and Congress, having lost the confidence of the nation, had forfeited their authority, demanding at the same time the annulment of the “anti-religious” laws.[12] Amidst the ringing of bells and burning of gunpowder, the city echoed with the cries, “Death to Gómez Farías! Death to the Puros!” Cannon were soon at the street corners, and the usual scenes of a Mexican insurrection, fatal chiefly to peaceful residents, were presently on exhibition. The clergy, there is ample reason to believe, paid the costs, and priests left the confessionals to herald this new crusade in the streets.[13]

After about nine days of indecisive skirmishing, however, the clericals felt discouraged. The nation had not rallied to their cause as they had expected. The sum of $40,000 was required for the next week of fighting, and they hesitated. But again a certain Person urged them on. The awkwardly drawn Plan was reduced to one article—Farías must be deposed. On that almost all could agree. Monarchists, Centralists, Santannistas, Clericals, Moderados, Puros were for once in happy unison. Salas reappeared with some troops to take revenge on his old enemy. And yet with epic heroism Farías, never faltering and never compromising either his official dignity or his personal character, held firmly on with his few soldiers and such of the populace as he could arm. Again the battle raged, and again the innocent fell. But who was it that directed this tempest? Who was the mysterious Person, overwhelming the government of Mexico with darkness and confusion at this critical hour? He was Moses Y. Beach, agent of the American state department and adviser to the Mexican hierarchy. Permission had been given him to bring about peace, if he could; and, unable to do this, he seized the opportunity to help Scott.[13]

The time had now arrived for the Saviour of Society to appear, since all rational persons were desperately tired of the vain struggle; and Peña y Barragán wrote to Santa Anna, begging him to take possession of the Presidential chair. Congress did nothing, for many Deputies—fearing that it might act in a manner contrary to their sentiments—remained away from the chamber, and a quorum could not be assembled; but when Pedraza was arrested by the government, a large group of Moderado members, feeling that Santa Anna’s “victory” at Buena Vista had confirmed his power, addressed him to the same effect as Peña; and the Liberator, giving his best corps barely four days of repose, and explaining his departure from the north as one more sacrifice on the altar of his country, set out with a substantial body of troops for Mexico.[14] Along his route women made wreaths and threw them before his feet. Men of every faction acclaimed him; and from Querétaro to the capital the road was filled with carriages, in which all sorts of persons desiring to reach his ear strove to outdo one another in despatch.[20]

On the first news of the insurrection Santa Anna’s impression had been that its ulterior aim was hostile to him,[15] for his partisans at the capital supported the government; and, as a Puro envoy confirmed this impression, he promised Farías military aid; but then appeared Moderado agents with strong assurances and probably with stronger financial arguments, and he went over, though not openly, to their side of the controversy. Both parties were ordered by him to discontinue hostilities, and both did so at once; for, as the clergy had now shut their strong boxes, the insurgent officers were anxious to reëstablish a connection with the national treasury, while the regulars of Farías would not disobey Santa Anna. After the President’s arrival at Guadalupe Hidalgo a Te Deum was celebrated there in honor of his triumph over the Americans; and the next day, March 23, amidst real demonstrations of joy, he formally superseded Farías, while a certain Person[16]—diligently but vainly sought after by the police—was hastily making his way through the mountains in the direction of Tampico.[20]

SANTA ANNA TRIUMPHANT

Apparently Santa Anna had experienced the luckiest of turns. Precisely when the Americans had shattered his plans, and he found himself buried in the northern deserts with a broken, starving army,[17] this insurrection gave him a splendid occasion for making a triumphal march to the capital amid plaudits of gratitude and admiration, and he now found himself at the summit of prestige and power.[18] In reality, however, his situation was by no means entirely satisfactory. Understanding that the Puros—who in reality had served him with substantial good faith and therefore stood highest in his present sympathy—had lost their dominant position, he allied himself with their opponents; but the Moderados disliked and distrusted him still, and he received at least one distinct notice that by taking their side he was placing himself gratuitously in the hands of his enemies. The Puros did not feel extremely grateful to him for merely avoiding an open break with them; and, although it seemed wise to join in the acclamations lest some worse thing befall them, they were already sharpening their arrows against him. Indeed, they were believed to be sharpening their daggers, and he took full precautions. The clergy had trembled and recoiled on hearing that his arms had triumphed against the Americans, and the Saviour of Society now appeared to lean toward them—or toward their strong boxes; but they knew him well enough to foresee, as they soon realized, that he intended to extort ample compensation for all the favor shown them.[20]

Such was the inner state of things, and the external course of events proved not less interesting. The effect of the insurrection upon the progress of the war, as we shall presently see, was notable, and in substance it produced a counter-revolution in domestic politics. As Farías was no more willing to resign than to compromise, some disposition of him seemed necessary, for Santa Anna would evidently have to take the field again shortly, and it would not have been expedient, whatever the rights of the case, to let the executive power fall back into his control. It was therefore decided to abolish the Vice Presidency; and in this way fell on April Fool’s Day the noblest but most unpopular man in the country.[19] At the positive dictation of Santa Anna General P. M. Anaya, a Moderado, was then elected substitute president, while the raging Puros raged in vain. The clergy succeeded, by offering two millions of real money, in persuading Santa Anna to annul the laws of January 11 and February 4; but the day before he did this, Church property worth twenty millions was placed by Congress—theoretically, at least—within the reach of the government.[20]

Not many weeks before this, Don Simplicio had announced, “There will be presented an original tragi-comedy entitled ‘All is a farce in our beloved Mexico,’” and now J. F. Ramírez, who had been minister of relations when the hated law passed, exclaimed in bitterness of heart: All of us, without an exception, have been acting in a way to deserve the contempt and chastisement of cultivated nations; “we are nothing, absolutely nothing, with the aggravating circumstance that our insensate vanity makes us believe that we are everything.”[20]

XXII
VERA CRUZ
February–March, 1847

On the twenty-first of February, General Scott, who had sailed from Tampico in a storm the day before, observed in the distance what seemed to be greenish bubbles floating on the sea. These were the Lobos Islands, and presently he found there on transports the First and Second Pennsylvania, the South Carolina, and parts of the Louisiana, Mississippi and New York regiments of new volunteers. Within a week many more troops, including nearly all the regulars of the expedition, arrived from Tampico or the Brazos, and the natural break-water that protected the anchorage—a sandy coral island of about one hundred acres, fringed with surf, covered with bushes and small trees woven together with vines, and scented by the blossoms of wild oranges, lemons and limes—veiled itself behind the spars and cordage of nearly a hundred vessels.[3]

Judicious measures prevented the smallpox from spreading. Drilling began; and the drum, fife and bugle aroused a fighting spirit, while visiting, social jollity and military discussion tended to create an army solidarity. In the evening bands played martial airs, and the watch fires on the coast gave an additional sharpness to the ardor of the soldiers. Meanwhile the General, who still expected vigorous opposition to his landing, waited impatiently for more surf-boats and heavy ordnance, looked anxiously for the ten large transports[1] in ballast requisitioned by him in November, elaborated his plans for disembarking, and issued the corresponding orders.[3]

The next rendezvous was to be off Antón Lizardo, about a dozen miles beyond Vera Cruz and some two hundred more from the Lobos anchorage, where islands, reefs and the shore of the mainland combined to form a deep and capacious harbor; and about noon on the second of March the steamer Massachusetts plowed through the fleet, dashing the spray from her bows, and set off in that direction. A blue flag with a red centre waving at her main-truck indicated that Scott was aboard, and when the noble figure of the commander-in-chief, standing with uncovered head on the deck, was observed, peal after peal of cheers resounded from ship to ship. The clanking of anchor chains followed them; the sailors broke into their hearty songs; the sails filled gracefully; and the fleet stood away.[3]

For two days its progress was not fast, but then a norther set in. Like a panorama, peak after peak on the lofty sky line passed rapidly astern; and finally Orizaba, the “mountain of the star,” upreared its head superbly more than three miles above sea level not far inland. Then came Green Island, where the Albany and Potomac were on hand to give any needful assistance,[2] and the John Adams showed her black teeth to lurking blockade-runners; while in the distance the frowning bastions of Ulúa “castle” could be made out, and the sixteen domes of Vera Cruz appeared to be promenading along her white wall. Pitching and rolling on the huge billows of inky water, with foam leaping high over their bows, the transports threaded their way swiftly between the tumbling and roaring piles of surf that marked the reefs, and finally, on March 5, the swallow-tail pennant of Commodore Conner and the flags of the American squadron were seen off Antón Lizardo. Cheers followed cheers as the transports dropped anchor one after another; and when the sun went down in a blaze of glory behind Orizaba, the spirits of the men, stimulated by so many novel, beautiful and thrilling scenes, by the approach of combat and the expectation of triumph, reached the very culmination of military enthusiasm. It was a good beginning—except that Scott arrived a month late, and the yellow fever usually came on time.[3]

VERA CRUZ

“Heroic” Vera Cruz, the city of the “True Cross,” was in form an irregular hexagon, with a perimeter some two miles in length, closely packed with rather high buildings of soft, white-washed masonry. Although famous as the charnel house of Europeans, it was a rather pleasant place for those who could endure the climate. The little alameda, across which many a dandy strutted every day in tight linen trousers, a close blue jacket, gilt buttons and a red sash, and many a pretty woman tottered coquettishly in pink slippers, was charming. The curtained balconies gave one a hint now and then of ladies making their toilets and smoking their cigarettes just within; and the flat roofs, equipped with observatories commanding the sea, were delightful resorts in the cool of the day. Along the water front extended a massive wall, supplemented at the northern end with Fort Concepción, at the southern end with Fort Santiago—both of them solidly built—and, between the two, with a mole of granite some two hundred yards in length. Landward the defences were feeble, for it had long been assumed that any serious attack would be made by water; but there were nine well-constructed, though in most cases not large, bastions, and between them dilapidated curtains of stone, brick and cement about fifteen feet high and two and a half or three feet thick.[9]

Behind the town extended a plain rather more than half a mile wide; and beyond that rose hills of light sand—enlarged editions of the dunes that ran along the shore north and south of Vera Cruz—which gradually increased in height until some of them, two or three miles inland, reached an elevation of perhaps three hundred feet. Then came dense forests, cut here and there by a road and occasionally diversified with oases of cultivated land, richly scented by tropical fruits and flowers. To the southwest of the city lay a series of ponds and marshes, drained by a small stream that passed near the wall; and this creek, supplemented by cisterns and an underground aqueduct, provided the town with water. In the opposite direction, on a reef named the Gallega—distant nearly three quarters of a mile from Fort Concepción—rose the fortress of Ulúa, built of soft coral stone, faced with granite, in the most scientific manner, and large enough to accommodate 2500 men.[4] Water batteries lay wherever it seemed possible to effect a landing, and tremendous walls, enfeebled by no casemates, towered to a height of about sixty feet.[9]

At the beginning of March, 1846, Mora y Villamil, the highest engineer officer in the Mexican army and at this time comandante general of Vera Cruz, feared that on account of Slidell’s departure the Americans might suddenly attack him. Aided by Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Robles, a skilful and active subordinate, he drew up detailed plans for repairing the crumbling fortifications of the city and castle, and these were approved by the government; but the lack of money prevented the full execution of them. In October the captain of a British frigate warned the new comandante general that an American attack was imminent; and at about the same time Santa Anna, while bitterly reproaching the government for its neglect of the town and pointing out what needed to be done, charged him to make the “strong buildings” a second and a third line of defence in case of attack, and then perish, if necessary, under the ruins of the city; but again the want of funds vetoed adequate preparations. On the other hand, unpaid soldiers paid themselves by stealing powder and selling it.[9]

About the middle of November it was learned at Mexico from a New Orleans newspaper that an expedition against Vera Cruz had been projected, and within two months the news was confirmed. Santa Anna heard of it, and wrote that 6000 militia should be assembled there. He was told in reply that his demand would be met early in February; and assurances were given to Congress that everything requisite had been done.[5] By the fourth of March the comandante general, to whom the information had been transmitted, was inditing urgent appeals for help, and soon the appearance of Scott showed that a crisis had arrived. In reliance on the promises of the general government, hopeful and incessant work on the fortifications now began; but within four days letters from the war department, conferring unlimited powers upon the commander, admitted that on account of the Polko insurrection at the capital no assistance could be given, and many of the people not only left the city, but endeavored to draw their friends and relatives from the National Guards.[9]

In point of fact military men had long known that Vera Cruz, as a fortified town standing by itself, was indefensible. General Mora admitted that it needed stronger exterior works than could be constructed; and there was no squadron to keep Ulúa supplied with provisions. The proper course for the comandante general was either to strip the city of whatever Scott could use, and merely endeavor to prevent him from advancing farther, as was privately argued by leading members of Congress, or—for the moral effect of such an example—to send all non-combatants away, and struggle until crushed; but neither public sentiment nor the government would have permitted the first of these plans, and, while the comandante had the second in mind on the fifth of March, it was too heroic for execution.[9]

SAN JUAN DE ULÚA

A FIGHTING CHANCE

Besides, there seemed to be a fighting chance. Ulúa was much stronger than when the French, aided by fortune, had captured it, and the anchorage occupied by them could now be shelled. Some of the guns had been improperly mounted; some of the carriages were old; at some of the embrasures balls of different calibres were mixed; pieces without projectiles could be found, and projectiles without pieces; rust had impaired the fit of many balls; but the city and the fortress together had probably three hundred serviceable cannon and mortars,[6] more muskets than men, and plenty of ammunition. As an assault was expected, the streets were defended with cannon and barricades, sand-bags protected the doors and windows, loopholes without number were made in the wall, the rather shallow but wet ditch was cleared, and although barbed cactus made the approach of an enemy to the bastions almost impossible, thousands of pitfalls—each with a sword, bayonet or short pike set erect at the bottom—were dug beyond the wall, so arranged that no one marching straight forward could well avoid them.[9]

Juan Soto, the governor of the state, was indefatigable, and as the state militia numbered about 20,000, it seemed reasonable to count upon succor. Giffard, the British consul, expected that substantial help would come from that source. Other states were likely to furnish aid; and the people, taught by the long inaction of the Americans off the shore to despise them and encouraged by fictitious reports that assistance would be rendered by the national government, felt united and enthusiastic.[7] The city council offered all its resources, and the well-to-do raised funds for a hospital by giving a theatrical performance. The garrison, led by the brave, active and popular though not very able Morales, now comandante general, may be estimated as at least 1200 in Ulúa and 3800 in the city.[8] About half of them were merely National Guards; but these, decorated with tricolored cockades and red pompons, looked and felt extremely dangerous. “As God lives,” cried one of their leaders, “either we will triumph, or all of us, without a solitary exception, will be interred in the ruins.” The civilians remaining in town may have numbered 3000.[9]

Bearing in mind the necessity, not merely of taking Vera Cruz and Ulúa, but of getting his army away from the coast before the advent of yellow fever, and satisfied that Polk would show him no mercy in case of ill-success, General Scott examined his problem with all possible care, and consulted freely the officers he particularly trusted.[10] He could not very prudently have left, say, 5000 men to mask or possibly reduce Vera Cruz, as some critics insisted he should have done, and advanced with the rest, for the essential purpose of his expedition was to capture that place, and such a course might have been viewed by the government as insubordinate. Besides, that policy would probably have been regarded by the Mexicans as a sign of weakness; the possession of the harbor and shipping facilities would evidently aid all further operations; by holding them it would be possible to deprive the enemy of war supplies and other necessaries; the arms, ammunition and cannon of the Mexicans were highly valuable, especially to them; and the American army would not have been an adequate aggressive force after thus detaching nearly half its numbers. The obstacle before Scott had, therefore, to be faced and overcome.[13]

The best method, evidently, was to reduce the town before seriously attacking Ulúa, because that success would greatly diminish the enemy’s fire, make it possible to contract and so strengthen the American line, and somewhat facilitate the transportation of supplies. Such had been the General’s plan from the first. Officers eager for distinction recommended an assault, and Scott well knew that a quick, brilliant stroke would best win him fame and popularity.[11] But he understood equally well that an assault, necessarily made at night, would entail a heavy loss of his best men—enough, perhaps, to prevent his advancing farther and escaping the pestilence—besides involving a great slaughter of both combatants and non-combatants in the town. On the other hand, as the British consul and the British naval commander agreed, there was not enough time before the yellow fever season to warrant relying upon starvation alone.[12] Siege and bombardment were therefore indicated, and Scott promptly decided upon that plan as combining, better than any other, humanity with effectiveness.[13]

THE DEBARKATION

The initial step was to select a point for debarking; and Conner, whom Scott had requested in December to study this problem, had already fixed upon the beach of Mocambo Bay, two and a half or three miles southeast of Vera Cruz, which was somewhat sheltered from northers and could be swept by the guns of the fleet. Sacrificios Island, a strip of sand representing a large reef, was just off shore, too, forming an anchorage here. Accordingly Scott, with Conner, the principal generals, Robert E. Lee, P. G. T. Beauregard and other officers, went up in the little steamer Petrita, reconnoitred the spot, and then—probably to deceive the Mexicans regarding his intentions—ran within a mile and a half of Ulúa, where he was almost sunk by the gunners.[14] His judgment agreed with the Commodore’s, and orders were given to land on the eighth. But when that morning came, signs of a norther showed themselves. The glass fell. The heat became stifling. A southerly wind loaded with moisture blew, and the summit of Orizaba, clad in the azure hue of the poet, stood sharply forth; hence the orders were countermanded.[17]

SIEGE OF VERA CRUZ GENERAL PLAN

The signs failed, however, and the extra day was available for the last preparations. A detailed plan of debarkation had been drawn up and announced while the army was at Lobos Islands, but certain difficulties had not been anticipated. The ten large transports in ballast had not come, and to land from a great number of small vessels at Sacrificios, where there was little room and foreign warships occupied all the safe anchorage, appeared imprudent. Conner, therefore, offered to transport the army on larger, better and more ably handled vessels belonging to the squadron, and Scott’s wise acceptance of the proposal involved extensive readjustments.[17]

These, however, were skilfully arranged, and when the dawn of March 9 announced a perfect day, a scene of the greatest activity began. Signals fluttered to mastheads. In clarion tones officers issued their orders. Despatch boats dashed here and there. Sailors and soldiers roared their favorite airs. Fully half of the 10,000 and more troops were placed on the frigates Raritan and Potomac, and most of the others on smaller vessels of the squadron. At about eleven o’clock the order to sail was given. Amid thunderous cheers the Massachusetts plunged through the fleet, and took its place in the lead with Conner’s flagship. A gentle breeze from the southeast filled the sails; and the war vessels and transports were off. After a smooth voyage they began to arrive near Sacrificios at about one o’clock, and in close quarters, but without mishaps or even the least confusion, each dropped anchor in its allotted space.[15] The yards and rigging of the foreign war vessels were black with men, and ladies, armed with glasses and parasols, gazed impatiently from the deck of the British packet.[17]

Without the loss of a moment three signal flags rose to the main-truck of the Massachusetts, and the work of landing Worth’s brigade of regulars began. The double-shotted cannon of the squadron were brought to bear on the shore. Seven gunboats drawing eight feet or less formed a line within good grape range of the beach, and cleared for action. About sixty-five surf-boats, which had been towed from Antón Lizardo by steamers, were rowed by naval crews to the vessels carrying troops—each having a definite assignment—and after receiving from fifty to eighty soldiers apiece, making up the whole of the brigade, attached themselves in two long lines to the quarters of the steamer Princeton, which had now anchored about 450 yards from the shore. This process consumed several hours, and it was hardly ended when a shell whizzed over them. “Now we shall catch it,” thought the soldiers, for rumors of opposition had been heard, two or three hundred cavalry could be seen, and artillery was supposed to be lurking behind the dunes.[17]

The flash of a signal gun shot now from the Massachusetts; the surf-boats cut loose, faced the shore abreast in the order of battle, and struck out for land; and a cheer burst from every American throat. Great Orizaba cast aside its veil of haze, and stood out against the setting sun. Not a cloud flecked the sky; not a ripple marred the burnished water. Ulúa and Vera Cruz thundered loudly, though in vain. National airs rolled from our squadron. Shells from the gunboats broke up the Mexican cavalry and searched the dunes. The oars of the straining sailors flashed. Muskets—not loaded but with fixed bayonets—glittered. Regimental colors floated at the stern of each boat. Suddenly one of the boats darted ahead and grounded on a bar about a hundred yards from the shore. Out leaped Worth; his officers followed him; and the whole brigade were instantly in the breaking ground-swell, holding aloft their muskets and cartridge-boxes.[17]

Here was the chance of the enemy, for our vessels could not fire without endangering Americans; but no enemy was to be seen.[16] Led by their color-bearers the regulars quickly splashed ashore, formed in a moment, charged to the crest of the first dune, planted their standards and burst into cheers; the men on the ships, tongue-tied for some time by an excitement and anxiety that made their brains reel, answered with huzza after huzza till they made the bay “seem peopled with victorious armies,” wrote one of the soldiers, and the strains of “Star-Spangled Banner” broke from the bands. Less formally, but rapidly and in order, the boats went back for the troops of Patterson and Twiggs; and by midnight, without having met with a single accident, more than 10,000 men, duly guarded by sentries, were eating their biscuit and pork on the sand or preparing to bivouac.[17]

VERA CRUZ INVESTED

During the night Mexicans in the rear did some shooting but without effect, and the process of investment began. Diverting attention from this by having a gunboat, sheltered about a mile from the city behind Point Hornos, throw shot and shell into Vera Cruz for a couple of hours the next forenoon, Scott had Pillow’s brigade capture the hill of Malibrán behind Worth’s camp, and push on toward the rear of the city. Quitman then passed it; Shields passed Quitman, and Twiggs passed him. Wallowing up and down the slopes of deep sand in a sultry heat without water to drink proved to be extremely hard work; and breaking through the valleys, where a matted growth of chaparral—armed with thorns as keen as needles and stiff as bayonets—resisted everything but sharp steel, was harder yet. Day and night Mexican irregulars, both infantry and horse, and cannon salutes from the city and the castle embarrassed operations, and there were many brisk skirmishes. Moreover the landing had scarcely been made when a norther set in, covering the men with sand, blowing away old hilltops and building up new ones. But not long after noon on March 13 Twiggs reached the Gulf north of the city. The next morning a well-supported detachment from each brigade advanced as far as it could find cover, driving the Mexican outposts before it; and by night these detachments were only about seven hundred yards from the town.[21]

The American position as a whole, known as Camp Washington, was now a semi-circular line about seven miles long. There were gaps, but these were rapidly closed with strong pickets. The railway and the roads were all occupied; the visible water supply of the city was cut off; and on March 16 Scott announced that nothing less than a small army could break through. Meantime, whenever the weather permitted, artillery, stores, horses and provisions were landed in the most systematic manner. Safeguards were issued to the representatives of foreign powers at Vera Cruz, and in a letter of March 13 to the Spanish consul[18] Scott indicated plainly that “bombardment or cannonade, or assault, or all” of these might be expected by the citizens.[21]

The time to plant artillery had now arrived, and the ideal spot was found on the sixteenth; but after a battery had been laid out there, access to it proved to be dangerously exposed. Two days later, however, a fairly good point was discovered, near the cemetery and Worth’s position, about half a mile south of the town, which screened it somewhat from the castle; and preparations to establish two mortar batteries there, about one hundred yards apart, began the following night. At the same time a deep road, wide enough to admit a six-mule team, was under construction.[21]

SIEGE OF VERA CRUZ
AMERICAN BATTERIES

Most of this labor had to be done at night, and the utmost possible silence observed. As the transports lay a mile off shore, while the only wharf was an open beach, and a norther blew violently from the twelfth to the sixteenth, the work of landing ordnance and ordnance stores proceeded slowly. Fortunately the work on the batteries was not discovered; but the fire of Paixhan guns and heavy mortars from the city and castle, though irregular and singularly unfruitful despite the undeniable skill of the gunners,[19] compelled the Americans to adopt extreme precautions. Nor were these embarrassments the only ones. Notwithstanding seasonable orders, only fifteen carts and about a hundred draught horses had arrived. Not more than one fifth of the ordnance requisitioned by Scott about the middle of November and due at the Brazos—he now reminded Marcy—by January 15, had yet appeared. A great many artillery and cavalry horses had been drowned, injured or delayed; and there was a shortage of almost every requisite for siege operations.[20] But the army and the navy coöperated zealously; soldiers took the places of draught animals; and in spite of every difficulty three batteries, mounting seven 10-inch mortars, were in readiness by two o’clock on the afternoon of the twenty-second, and the soldiers felt eager to hear what they called the “sweet music” of these “faithful bull-dogs.”[21]

THE BOMBARDMENT

At this hour, therefore, Scott formally summoned the town, intimating that both assault and bombardment were to be apprehended. The reply was a refusal to surrender; and at a quarter past four, accompanied by a deafening chorus of joyous, frantic shouts and yells, the American batteries opened, while the “mosquito fleet” of two small steamers and five gunboats,[22] each armed with a single heavy cannon, stationed themselves behind Point Hornos, and fired briskly.[24]

Like “hungry lions in search of prey,” a soldier thought, the shells from the mortars flew “howling” to their mark. With heavier metal and vastly more of it, Vera Cruz and the castle replied. The city wall blazed like a sheet of fire. Shot, shell and rockets came forth in a deluge, it seemed to the men; and the two columns of smoke, rolling and whirling, mounted high and collided as if striving to outflank and conquer each other. Still more terrible was the scene at night. A spurt of red fire; a fierce roar; a shell with an ignited fuse mounting high, pausing, turning, and then—more and more swiftly—dropping; the crash of a roof; a terrific explosion that shook the earth; screams, wailing and yells—all this could be distinctly seen or heard from the American lines. During the twenty-third and the following night the fire still raged, but on the American side more slowly, for although ten mortars were now at work, a norther interrupted the supply of ammunition.[24]

But while the bombardment made an interesting spectacle, as a military operation it was proving unsatisfactory. The ordnance thus far received by Scott was inadequate for the reduction of the city—to say nothing of Ulúa. With mortars, especially as the distances could not be ascertained precisely, it was impossible to be sure of hitting the bastions and forts. Shells could be thrown into the town, but while the houses suffered much, the fortifications and garrison escaped vital damage, and there was no sign of yielding. Not a few in the American army, who had supposed that a fortified city could be taken at sight like a mint julep, grew impatient; the officers eager for assault fumed; Worth, proud of his quick work at Monterey, sneered; Twiggs grunted. As an army man Scott naturally desired that branch of the service to reap all the glory of its campaign, but he now found himself compelled to ask for naval guns heavy enough to breach the wall, and make an assault practicable; and when Perry, who had taken Conner’s place on the twenty-first, insisted that men from the squadron should work them, he consented.[24]

The new battery, constructed by Robert E. Lee and mounting three long 32’s for solid shot and three 68’s for shells, was planted just behind the bushy crest of a slight eminence, only some 800 yards from the city wall, where the enemy did not suppose that such an enterprise would be ventured; and until the guns were about ready to be unmasked on the morning of the twenty-fourth, its existence was not suspected.[23] Here were instruments of power and precision, and they told. The Mexicans concentrated upon them a terrific fire, but with no serious effect; and when on the next morning a battery consisting of four 24-pounders and two 8-inch howitzers joined the infernal chorus, the fire, though hindered occasionally by the tardiness of ammunition, was “awful,” said Scott and Lee, while the city appeared like one dense thunder-cloud, red with flashes and quivering with incessant roars.[24]

That night the batteries played still more fiercely. Sometimes four or five shells were sizzling through the air at once. The fire, said an officer, was now “perfectly terrific”; and to heighten the wildness of the scene, many vessels could be observed by the light of the moon going ashore in the norther. About thirty were wrecked by this one gale, and others had to cut away their masts. In the meantime preparations for assaulting both by land and by water, should an assault prove to be necessary, were actively pressed.[24]

THE SITUATION IN VERA CRUZ

In town, during the early period of these operations, the enthusiasm continued to run high, for the cautious and faint-hearted had gone away, and the reports of the irregulars, constantly skirmishing against the Americans, were colored to suit the popular taste. Work on the fortifications proceeded, and fresh cartridges for the artillery were made with feverish haste. Bands played; the gunners amused themselves by firing at small and far distant groups among the sand-hills; and at night fireballs and rockets lighted up the plain in anticipation of the hoped-for assault. When the investment was completed, when the American outposts drew near the town, and especially when it became known that preparations for a bombardment were under way, the people grew more serious; but it was expected that forces from without would break the line, or at least prevent the construction of batteries.[26]

A painful disappointment followed, however. Soto made great efforts to collect the tax levied by the state; but the citizens, impoverished by the long blockade, had no money, and without cash troops could not be fed. In spite of many hopes the fluctuating bands under Colonel Senobio, the chief leader of the irregulars in the vicinity, do not seem to have risen at any time far above 1000, and perhaps never reached that number. In vain Soto appealed for an able general and a nucleus of regulars. They were not within reach, and the few pieces of artillery could not be moved. The states of Puebla and Oaxaca tried to help, but were tardy and inefficient.[26]

Men from the upper country dreaded the yellow fever; and those of the coast, volatile by nature, ignorant of real warfare, without organization, training or discipline, were astonished and confounded when they struck the solid American line. They pecked at it continually, but Morales himself could see that no skill, concert or strength marked their efforts. Discouragement and wholesale desertion followed. The city, therefore, could not obtain provisions by land; and as most of the seamen alongshore fled to the mountains, and boat communication became more and more difficult, it was realized that supplies from the interior were out of the question. After March 20 the troops could be given little or no meat; but soldiers were detailed to fish the prolific waters under the guns of Ulúa, and no doubt beans and tortillas, the staple food of the common people, continued to be fairly plentiful.[26]

The opening of the bombardment, however, precipitated a crisis, and as our fire grew more and more intense, the consternation and suffering increased. Crashing roofs; burning houses; flying pavements; doors, windows and furniture blocking the streets; a pandemonium of confused and frightful sounds; bells ringing without hands; awful explosions; domes and steeples threatening to fall; the earth quaking; crowds of screaming women, who rushed hither and thither; terrible wounds and sudden deaths—all these were new and overwhelming scenes.[25] Only one bakery escaped destruction, as it happened, and the children cried in vain for bread; the priests would not leave their shelter to comfort and absolve; and finally the very instinct of self-preservation was lost in a stupid despair more dreadful to witness than death itself.[26]

The troops in the southwestern section, under our heaviest fire, became terror-stricken. In other quarters men left the ranks to look after families and friends; and when a murky dawn ended the terrible night of the twenty-fifth, demoralization was rife. People wandered about the streets crying for surrender. Always passionate, they now hated their own government for deserting them. The consuls went out under a flag of truce, but Scott refused to see them, sending them word—it was reported—that any persons leaving the city would be fired upon, and that unless it should surrender in the meantime, new as well as the old batteries would open the next morning. This fact overwhelmed the people; and the prospect of being exterminated at leisure by an enemy who could not be injured, beat down their last thought of resistance.[26]

Consul Giffard had predicted that any plausible excuse for surrender would be turned to good account. Supplies were now said to be failing, and in the course of this dreadful night an informal meeting of officers agreed upon capitulation. Naturally the idea gave offence to many, and there was talk of opening a way through the American line with the sword. But a council of war soon decided to negotiate; commissioners were appointed; and Scott, who was invited to take similar action, did so. The six men came together on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth, but could not agree; and the Mexicans returned to the city, leaving behind them a proposition.[29]

THE SURRENDER OF VERA CRUZ

Worth, who was our chief representative, believed the negotiations were simply a waste of time, and favored an immediate assault; but Scott saw that the Mexicans, while trying to save appearances, really meant surrender, and the next morning granted with certain vital modifications their terms.[27] His demands were accepted, and it was thus agreed in substance that Landero, to whom the command had been turned over, should march his army out with all the honors of war, the troops be paroled, and the armament—so far as not destroyed in the course of the war—be disposed of by the treaty of peace. It was further agreed that all the Mexican sick should remain in town under Mexican care, private property be respected, and religious rights be held sacred.[29]

It was a “shameful surrender,” declared Santa Anna, and from a military point of view this could hardly be denied. Ulúa had practically not been touched; it had a considerable supply of provisions, and there was a chance of obtaining more from blockade-runners. Vera Cruz was in a harder yet not in a desperate plight. Men of importance there, knowing the city would be denounced for surrendering, naturally endeavored to prove that it had suffered terribly and exhausted its resources before yielding; and the principal neutrals—friendly toward them, engaged mostly in trade, and more willing to have life sacrificed than property—raised an outcry against the proceedings of Scott that became a fierce indictment in Europe and the United States. But the British naval commander, though not inclined to favor the General, reported that the casualties in the city were only eighty soldiers killed or wounded, about one hundred old men, women and children killed, and an unknown number injured, and that its food supply, while no doubt less delicate and varied than could have been desired, would have lasted beyond the middle of April; and there is considerable evidence that his figures were approximately correct.[28] Ammunition did not fail, nor did water.[29]

The surrender was really due therefore to the moral effect of Scott’s artillery. Even Giffard, who termed his operations cruel and unnecessary, admitted this; and, bearing in mind the General’s obligations to obey his government and save the lives of his men, the inevitable horrors of an assault by night, and the serious danger that a reliance upon starvation as the sole means of reducing the city would have given time for Santa Anna’s regulars and the yellow fever to arrive, one concludes again and finally that Scott’s method was humane and wise.[29]

Owing to inequalities of the ground, the character of the soil, great skill on the part of our engineers, incessant care and remarkable good fortune, the total losses caused by 6267 Mexican shot, 8486 shells and all the bullets of the irregulars were only about nineteen killed and sixty-three wounded. The siege was not exactly a fête champêtre, however. It was tiresome to be awakened at night so often by Mexican skirmishers, disagreeable to be routed out by the diabolical screech of a heavy shell, and quite annoying to have one of the “big dinner-pots,” as the soldiers called them, explode close by. Saturating dews, abominable drinking water, scanty and bad rations, howling wolves, lizards in one’s boot, “jiggers” that made the feet itch incessantly, fleas that even a sleeping-bag could not discourage, and sand-flies nearly as voracious, were minor but real afflictions. When a norther began, the whole aspect of nature seemed to change. The sky became a pall, the atmosphere a winding-sheet, the wind a scourge; and the roaring, chilling blast filled one’s ears, eyes, mouth and even pores with biting grit, cut the tents into ribbons, and sometimes buried their sleeping inmates.[30] To escape from the Mexican shot sentries often had to burrow in the sand, and under the tropical sun they learned to appreciate the power of the old brick oven. When carrying provisions or dragging cannon, amidst hills that blazed like the mirrors of Archimedes at Syracuse, men often dropped.[31]

On the other hand, besides the initial high spirits, which helped immensely, and the excitement and comradeship that knocked off the edge of hardships, there were special sources of cheer—particularly the “blue-shirts,” as the seamen were called. When turning out in the face of an icy sand-blast sharp enough to cut granite, it was something to hear a salty voice give the order, “Form line of battle on the starboard tack!” But sailors on shore leave, who burst from their long confinement like birds let loose, and “cruised” in the environs with perfect abandon, were better yet. Their sport with the wild monkeys was truly edifying, and their delight over the burro would have set Diogenes laughing. Sometimes they rode him, and sometimes they carried him. Planted in the Mexican style just forward of the creature’s tail, they felt that at last they were riding the quarter-deck, and commanding a snug vessel of their own. Above all they enjoyed “mooring ship.” This congenial manoeuvre was achieved by taking aboard for “anchor” a heavy block of wood, previously attached to the donkey’s neck with a long rope, then racing at full speed, heaving the “anchor,” paying out the cable, and bringing up in a heap on the sand—the donkey on top, very likely.[31]

Not less cheering and a little more military was the news, which arrived by the fifteenth of March, that “Old Wooden-leg’s” army had been “licked up like salt” at Buena Vista. And still another comfort was to gaze from a safely remote hill at Vera Cruz, which looked—the soldiers agreed—so oriental, with airy palm trees visible over the white wall, hundreds of buzzards floating in wide circles far above, the dark bulwarks of Ulúa set in waves of purple and gold on the left, a forest of American spars and masts on the right, piercing the misty splendor of the yellow beach, the bright sails of fishing boats in the middle distance, and the vast, blue, cool Gulf beyond it all. How the panting soldiers gloated on the prospect of taking possession![31]

VERA CRUZ OCCUPIED

And on March 29 they did so. The day was enchantingly summerlike; a delightful southeast breeze came over the water; and the domes of Vera Cruz were gilded with splendid sunshine. In a green meadow, shaded with cocoanut palms, a little way south of the town, Worth’s brigade was drawn up in a dingy line, and a dingy line of volunteers, about seventy yards distant, faced it. At one end of the intervening space, near the city wall, stood sailors and marines. The American dragoons and a battery were opposite them, and a white flag waved at the centre. A little before noon the Mexican troops, in their best uniforms of blue, white and red, marched out of the gate, formed by company front with a band at the head of each regiment, advanced to the flag, and stacked arms. A few slammed or even broke their muskets; many kissed their hands to the city; and a standard bearer, who had removed his flag from the staff and secreted it in his bosom, wept for joy when permitted to keep it. But most of the men seemed in fairly good spirits, and as a rule the much-decorated officers, who retained their swords, produced a fine impression.[32]

As the rear of the column left the gate, the Mexican banner on Fort Santiago, after receiving a last salute from the guns of the city and castle, was lowered; and then issued forth a crowd of men, women and children, loaded with fiddles, guitars, parrots, monkeys, dogs, game-cocks, toys and household utensils, that was enough to destroy any funereal sentiments which otherwise might have been felt. Even by the Mexican accounts, not a word or look of triumph, not even a note of authority, was chargeable to the victors; and Worth, who received the column, proffered a thousand courtesies. General Scott, the so-called “vain-glorious,” remained in the background; but he sent a note excusing from their parole about forty officers, whom he expected to aid him at the capital as in effect advocates of peace.[32]

Amid cheers and the waving of caps, American flags then rose on the forts, greeted by hundreds of salutes from sea and shore. It seemed, wrote a soldier, as if there were nothing in the world but cannon, and all the cannon thundering; and the glory of the Stars and Stripes, gleaming amidst the smoke, gave a new significance to the emblem of patriotism. With his bands playing favorite American airs, Worth’s brigade now marched into the town; and later Scott, with his staff and a brilliant escort, followed it. Perry took formal possession of Ulúa; and the disbanded Mexican troops that resided elsewhere scattered to their homes, preparing the people for submission wherever they went by tales of American invincibility, and teaching them by every sort of outrage to welcome American rule.[32]

XXIII
CERRO GORDO
April, 1847

I believe it would be many months after the capture of Vera Cruz and the fortress of Ulúa, said Minister Pakenham in substance at the end of January, 1847, before an army strong enough to advance any distance into the interior could be collected there, and meantime the climate would be “frightfully destructive.” Heat, fatigue, differences in food, and the yellow fever will cause heavy losses, wrote Bermúdez de Castro, the Spanish minister at Mexico in March, and the road to the capital passes so many centres of population and so many fine military positions, that without great labor and preparations an invading force can be destroyed. Two men better qualified to express opinions on the matter could scarcely have been found; but without hesitation the “scientific and visionary” Scott addressed himself to the task. Had the requisitions duly made by him in November been complied with, he might by this time, at a trifling cost in lives, have been standing on the great plateau, and quite possibly within the capital; but now, with only two thirds of the desired troops[1] and an insufficient supply of many other essentials, he fearlessly girded up his loins.[5]

Stores were expeditiously landed. The First Infantry and two independent volunteer companies received orders to garrison the town and the fortress. It was arranged to minimize the danger of yellow fever by keeping the Americans at the water-front as much as possible and cleaning the city. The military department of Vera Cruz, extending fifty miles inland, was created. Foreign merchants, under the threat of a six per cent duty on exported gold and silver, supplied funds by cashing official drafts on the United States at par. “One more appeal ... to the ninety-seven honorable men, against, perhaps, the three miscreants in every hundred,” urging them to coöperate actively in preventing even trivial outrages, was issued; and the people of the region were addressed[2] in a proclamation.[5]

“Mexicans,” said Scott, I am advancing at the head of a powerful army, which is soon to be doubled, and another army of ours is advancing in the north. “Americans are not your enemies,” however, but only the enemies of those who misgoverned you, and brought about this unnatural war. To the peaceable inhabitants and to your church, which is respected by the government, laws and people in all parts of our country, we are friends. Everything possible will be done to prevent or punish outrages against you; and on the other hand any citizen, not belonging to the regular forces, who undertakes to injure us will be severely chastised. “Let, then, all good Mexicans remain at home, or at their peaceful occupations.” Let them also furnish supplies, for all who do so will be paid in cash and protected. If such a course be followed, the war may soon end honorably for both sides; and the Americans, “having converted enemies into friends,” will return home.[5]

The problem of transportation, however, caused the General a great deal of trouble. As early as the beginning of February notice of his probable needs had been given by him to the quartermaster’s department, and presumably steps had been taken to meet them; but the loss of animals on board the ships during storms or by the wrecking of transports had upset all calculations.[3] For wagons especially he was dependent upon the United States. At least eight hundred were needed, and up to April 5 only one hundred and eighty had arrived, though three hundred more were known to be on the way. Four or five thousand mules were required for wagons, two or three thousand for pack-saddles, and about four hundred mules or horses for the siege train; and by the same date less than 1100 had been obtained. An expedition to the village of La Antigua[4] on the north shore met with little success in this regard, and a more important one, to the rich country on the upper Alvarado River,[4] which was supposed to abound in horses and mules, produced but very disappointing results.[5]

In the opinion of Scott, however, the district near Jalapa, a beautiful city about seventy-four miles inland, was likely to prove more satisfactory. From Beach’s friend, Mrs. Storms, who had presented herself to him on March 20, he seems to have learned that friendly sentiments were entertained there. No serious opposition below that point and even for some distance beyond it seemed to him probable; and hence on April 8, although his means for equipping a road train were but a quarter of what he desired, and only an inadequate siege train could be moved, the second division of regulars, commanded by Brigadier General Twiggs, marched for Jalapa, which was also the first point where large quantities of subsistence and forage could be obtained.[5]

VERA CRUZ TO PEROTE

MEXICAN DEFENSIVE PLANS

Measures to defend the route had been set on foot by Mexico in good season.[6] From the lofty plateau of the interior the national highway—which it was evident that an American army would have to follow on account of its artillery—wound through mountains to sea level, presenting, according to the minister of war, “almost insuperable obstacles against any audacious invader.” Not far above Jalapa the village of Las Vigas marked a spot of military value, and the narrow, rugged pass at La Hoya, though it could be turned without much difficulty, afforded an excellent opportunity to stop a weak force or delay a strong one, while below that city Corral Falso, Cerro Gordo, Plan del Río and the national bridge (puente nacional) were fine points. As early as October 11, 1846, an order to fortify several of these positions was issued. Some gangs of laborers assembled, a little preparatory clearing of the ground was done, a few cannon were moved about; but energy, money, supplies, appliances and engineering skill fell indefinitely short of the requirements, and up to the twentieth of March, 1847, nothing substantial was accomplished.[9]

Contour Lines near Cerro Gordo.

The difference of elevation between two lines is fifty metres.

That day Santa Anna arrived near the capital on his return from the north, and, although he expected Vera Cruz to delay the Americans much longer than it did, he seems to have taken the southern danger into consideration at once. Disputes between the generals had sprung up. As a result La Vega was given the district from Vera Cruz to Corral Falso, General Gregorio Gómez that extending from Corral Falso to Las Vigas, and General Gaona a jurisdiction above this; and each was ordered to fortify his best points and raise as many troops as he could. Over all of these officers was then placed General Canalizo, a little man with a big tongue, as commander-in-chief of the eastern division. The forces under Senobio and other chiefs were to be gathered, “regularized” and trained. The troops—a cavalry brigade, two brigades of infantry and a force of artillery—that had followed the President from La Angostura were ordered to march toward Vera Cruz by the shortest route, a brigade under Rangel to proceed from the capital in the same direction, and 2000 National Guards, from Puebla to join those corps; and General Mora, who now commanded the Army of the North, was instructed to send his bronze 16-pounders to Jalapa with all possible speed.[7] Every effective engineer then at the capital received similar marching orders, and attention was given to the need of ammunition, wagons, mules and other necessaries. At the same time instructions were issued to block the route via Orizaba at Chiquihuite, a naturally strong position below that city.[9]

Late on March 30 news that Vera Cruz had fallen reached the capital. At once the government expelled Black, the American consul residing at Mexico, and issued a circular calling upon all citizens to forget rancor and dissension, offer their lives and fortunes, and stand unitedly behind the President. “Mexicans,” exclaimed Santa Anna, “do not hesitate between death and slavery.... Awake! A sepulchre opens at your feet; let it at least be covered with laurels!” and he adjured Canalizo in the name of the country to fortify Corral Falso and Cerro Gordo, and above all to defend the national bridge “in all possible ways and at all costs” in order to give time for troops to concentrate above it. With Senobio’s forces and the militia—amounting, said this letter, to more than 2000 men—and aided by the topography of the ground, itself “equal in value to an army,” the enemy could be detained, the President assured him; and he was authorized to shoot every deserter and every coward. At the same time Governor Soto was directed to proclaim martial law, call out all the fit men between the ages of fifteen and fifty years, and aid Canalizo in every possible way. Then, after transferring the executive power to General Anaya, the substitute President, Santa Anna left the capital on April 2. As he went down the steps of the palace to his waiting carriage, he and the onlookers felt sad presentiments they could not hide. Even his enemies had tears in their eyes, and it seemed to every one like a final good-by.[9]

SANTA ANNA AT THE FRONT

On the way gloomy reports met him. Soto wrote that while all in his power had been done, the fate of Vera Cruz had smitten the people with terror, and the resources of the state were far from adequate. Canalizo wrote no more hopefully. Efforts had been made to rouse the spirit of the public.[8] Under penalty of death all intercourse with the Americans had been prohibited, and under the same threat all citizens had been ordered to place beyond the invader’s reach whatever could be of service to him. But the outlook was dark. Although a good engineer had been at the national bridge for a week, work on the fortifications had scarcely begun; eight hundred out of a thousand men had fled panic-stricken on learning of Scott’s triumph at Vera Cruz, there was little ammunition or money, and the bridge could not be held. In view of Santa Anna’s adjuration Canalizo promised to make another effort, but he soon ordered La Vega to abandon the position. The light fortifications recently built were demolished, and as wagons to carry the guns away could not be obtained, they were spiked and pitched into a ravine.[9]

Observing at La Hoya that virtually nothing had been done, Santa Anna ordered Engineer Cano to fortify the pass, and then went on to his great hacienda of El Encero, eight miles below Jalapa, where he arrived on the fifth. Two days later, in company with Lieutenant Colonel Robles, he passed Corral Falso, five miles farther down the highway, and the hamlet of Cerro Gordo, nearly five miles beyond that, and finally, making a steep and circuitous descent, he came to Plan del Río, about five miles from the hamlet. Near the first of these three positions the highway passed through a narrow, craggy defile, that could not be turned; but Santa Anna decided to make a stand at the second, because according to the country people and the traditions of both the Spanish régime and the revolutionary war, it was equally unassailable on the flanks, and holding it would force the Americans to remain within reach of the yellow fever, which ceased to be terrible just above Plan del Río.[14]

CERRO GORDO

Very little work had been done at Cerro Gordo, but the position seemed admirable. About half a mile below the hamlet the descending highway entered a ravine, which rapidly deepened. On the left of this rose a hill named El Telégrafo, which, though low and easily ascended from the direction of the hamlet, was five or six hundred feet high on the opposite side and extremely steep. To the right of the ravine the grade of the hamlet continued for more than a mile, ending finally in three tongues, just south of which the plateau was cut, approximately east and west, by a precipitous canyon of rock more than five hundred feet deep, the channel of a small stream called the Río del Plan. The tongues, which may be designated from south to north as A, B and C, were parallel to the highway and more or less fully commanded it.[10] Near the head of the ravine, at a spot that may be called D, a road branched off from the highway toward the tongues, and there was a low eminence, E, in this vicinity.[14]

BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO GENERAL PLAN

[Larger image]

Believing that Scott could advance with artillery only by the highway, Santa Anna gave his chief attention to this part of the terrain, and recalling Cano and his men from La Hoya, he sent them to assist Robles here. At the ends of the tongues parapets were laid out, which, though not completed, served to indicate the correct positions; and in front of each the bushes and trees were cut down and left on the ground, so that an assailant should be impeded and should have no screen. On A General Pinzón, a mulatto of considerable ability, was placed with about six guns and some five hundred men. At B, where the highway had formerly run, there were not less than eight guns and about a thousand troops under General Jarero. C was held by Colonel Badillo with about five pieces and nearly three hundred men.[11] E was entrusted to General La Vega with a reserve of some five hundred grenadiers; and that officer had charge also of a six or seven gun battery at D and of a neighboring breastwork, parallel to the highway—which was cut at that point—and completely dominating it, where the Sixth Regiment, counting nine hundred bayonets, was placed. In all some 3500 men, including the artillery, occupied this wing.[14]

April 17 Santa Anna transferred Robles, Cano and their laborers to the other side of the highway. On the summit of El Telégrafo, which commanded the entire position, there was a level space of about an acre, and in it stood a square stone tower. Here a breastwork, some distance back from the crest and partly enclosing the tower, was imperfectly constructed; four 4-pounders were planted; all the bushes, cactus and small trees within musket range on the slope were cut down and left on the ground; and the Third Infantry, consisting of about one hundred men, took possession of the summit. To the left and rear of this point ran a spur, which rose to a minor crest—a broken ledge eighteen or twenty feet high—some thirty feet lower than the summit and about a hundred yards from it. In the rear of all these points, close to the hamlet, lay the main camp and strong reserves of troops and guns. To Santa Anna the position seemed impregnable. He reported to the government that it was completely fortified, well armed with artillery and garrisoned with 12,000 men.[12] News from the capital that revolutionary movements were on foot and that something must be accomplished to prevent the idea of peace from gaining currency, no longer troubled him. Confiding in his army and his position he gave free rein to his vanity, his lordliness and his exultation. Here should the proud invaders be rolled back or here under the saffron wing of the plague should they rot. And then let domestic foes tremble![14]

But a number of circumstances undermined him. The narrow camp, too much crowded with cottages, tents, huts and market booths, became confused even while there were no hostilities. Insects kept the troops restive. The supply of water, brought in barrels from the Río del Plan, was insufficient,[13] and many drank the crude sap of the maguey, which made them ill. A sort of cholera set in, and exposure produced lung troubles. Far worse, however, were the moral distempers. Some of the troops had turned their backs to the Americans at Palo Alto, the Resaca, Monterey and Buena Vista, while others had recently, to their utter amazement, seen heroic Vera Cruz and mighty Ulúa, the pride of Mexico, haul down their flags; and men of both classes represented the enemy as invincible. Every deserter was ordered shot, and this interference with a popular diversion gave offence.[14]

Looking at the shaggy hills and ravines on his left, Santa Anna declared that a rabbit could not get through there. Perhaps not, thought many a soldier, but the Americans are not rabbits. About seven hundred yards in front of El Telégrafo stood a similar though somewhat lower hill called La Atalaya, which commanded a wide expanse of the rough country, and the engineers felt it should be fortified and strongly held; but the President would merely station twenty-five men there. Robles himself believed that Scott could turn the main position, and wanted fortifications erected at the extreme left; but Santa Anna would listen to no advice, and his cocksureness itself excited alarm. In private, officers talked of a disaster, and even Canalizo foreboded it. The tinder of a panic was ready.[14]

TWIGGS’S ADVANCE

Meanwhile Twiggs with two field batteries,[15] six 24-pounders, two 8-inch howitzers, four 10-inch mortars, and a squadron of dragoons—in all some 2600 men—set out in the footsteps of Cortez.[16] Most fortunately the troops had a stock of enthusiasm, for the beginning of the march was terrible. After going three miles along the beach they struck off at a right angle for six or eight on a deep, sandy road, sometimes three or four feet below the level of the ground, with a blazing sun overhead, not a breath of moving air, and Twiggs’s horse for a pace-maker. Many threw away everything detachable, and the greater part of the division—at least four fifths, it was said—fell by the way. Some died, and many others did not rejoin the command for days. Unbroken mules and drivers ignorant of their business added to the difficulties. The meagre facilities for transportation did not permit even officers to have tents, and some of the scanty supplies were lost through the breaking down of wagons.[19]

The next day, happily, a change took place. The column set out before sunrise, marched more slowly, and halted occasionally; and the national highway, no longer buried in sand, proved to be a spacious, comfortably graded cement avenue, carried over the streams by handsome bridges of cut stone, and flanked on both sides by the estates of Santa Anna.[17] Now it penetrated a dark forest of palms, cactus, limes and countless other trees festooned with vines, and now it crossed rolling prairies. Here it was cut through solid rock; here it skirted a beautiful hill, with a charming vista of leafy glades; and presently it was clinging as if in terror to the face of a cliff. Bowers carpeted with many soft hues and perfumed with heliotrope recalled ideas of Eden, while marshes full of strange bloated growths, bluish-green pools rimmed with flowers of a suspicious brilliancy, and thick clumps of dagger plants tipped with crimson offered suggestions of a different sort.[19]

Matted tangles of leafage spattered with gold, big tulipans gleaming in the shadows like a red rose in the hair of a Spanish dancer, blossoms like scarlet hornets that almost flew at one’s eyes, and blooms like red-hot hair-brushes, the sight of which made the scalp tingle, were balanced with big, close masses of white throats and purple mouths, and with banks of the greenish-white cuatismilla, discharging invisible clouds of a fragrance that seemed to be locust blended with lily of the valley. Trees with tops like balloons, like corkscrews and like tables, trees drained almost dry by starry parasites that swung from their branches, trees covered with strawberry blossoms—or what appeared to be strawberry blossoms—that were to graduate into coffee beans, trees bare of everything except great yellow suns, the Flower of God, that fascinated one’s gaze—these and countless other surprises followed one another; and then would come a whole grove netted over with morning glories in full bloom. Amid scenes like these our exhausted troops quickly regained their spirits.[19]

Toward the end of the march on the eleventh, when about thirty-seven miles from Vera Cruz, the troops crossed a branch of the Antigua, and soon came to the river itself. In the triangular space thus bounded rose a hill crowned with an old fort.[18] Here stood the national bridge, a magnificent structure more than fifty feet high and nearly a quarter of a mile in length, commanding romantic views of the rapid stream winding through towering vistas of luxuriant vegetation. On leaving the bridge the road made a sharp turn to the left at the foot of a high and very steep bluff; and it seemed as if a battery planted at the top of the bluff, as La Vega’s had been, might stop an army until overpowered with siege guns. But Canalizo had been wiser than his chief, for there were fords above and below and cross-roads in the rear, that made it possible to turn the position. So amidst a wondrous illumination from glow-worms and fireflies, the troops made their third camp here in peace.[19]

Beyond this point the influence of Canalizo could be seen. The bamboo huts thatched with palm-leaves were all vacant and empty. Scarcely one living creature could be seen except flitting birds. These, however, still abounded: parrots, macaws, hawks, eagles, orioles, humming-birds, mocking-birds, cardinals brighter than cardinals, cranes larger than cranes, talkative chachalacas, toucans as vociferous as their bills were huge—every color from indigo to scarlet, and every note from the scream to the warble; and the same ocean of green still rolled its vast billows, warmed and brightened by the same golden sun.[19]

At the end of this march, about thirteen miles from the national bridge, the highway narrowed and pitched down a long, steep, winding descent, with overhanging trees and rocks on one side and a precipice on the other, as if making for the centre of the globe. Then it crossed Río del Plan, and came to a small, irregular opening, where a few scattered huts could be seen. This was Plan del Río. Views of superb heights delighted the eye, but the hot breath of the coast could be felt in the valley. Even the hollows between the sand-hills of Vera Cruz were thought less pestilential. But the men lay down, and, as a soldier wrote, covered themselves with the sky.[19]

In the midst of scenery like this, “Old Davy” Twiggs appeared like a perfectly natural feature. His robust and capacious body, powerful shoulders, bull-neck, heavy, cherry-red face, and nearly six feet of erect stature represented physical energy at its maximum. With bristling white hair and, when the regulations did not interfere, a thick white beard, he seemed like a kind of snow-clad volcano, a human Ætna, pouring forth a red-hot flood of orders and objurgations from his crater of a mouth; and he was vastly enjoyed by the rough soldiers even when, as they said, he “cursed them right out of their boots.” In a more strictly human aspect he made an excellent disciplinarian, and he could get more work out of the men than anybody else in the army; but as a warrior, while he always looked thirsty for a fight, he was thought over-anxious to fight another day—to be, in short, a hero of the future instead of the past; and as a general, Scott had already said that he was not qualified “to command an army—either in the presence, or in the absence of an enemy.” His brains were, in fact, merely what happened to be left over from the making of his spinal cord, and the soldiers’ names for him—the “Horse” and the “Bengal Tiger”—classed him fairly as regarded intellect.[20]

Twiggs had been warned by Scott that a substantial army, commanded by Santa Anna, lay in his front; lancers were encountered on April 11; and a reconnaissance of that afternoon, made because the enemy were said to be in force just ahead, proved that guns commanded the pass of Cerro Gordo; yet the next morning he advanced in the usual marching order. Nothing saved his division but the eagerness of the Mexicans. They opened fire before he was entirely within the jaws of death, and he managed to retreat—extricating his train with difficulty, however. The enemy have given up and withdrawn, boasted Santa Anna, while the Americans felt ashamed. Further reconnoitring on that day gave a still more impressive idea of the problem ahead; but the General, as if intoxicated by holding an independent command, ordered an assault made at daybreak the next morning. The Volunteer Division, consisting at present of two brigades, a field battery and a squadron of cavalry, then arrived. Patterson, who led it, seemed, however, by no means eager to accept the responsibility of command, and, as no confidence whatever was felt in Pillow, the second in rank, he placed the entire force under Twiggs on the ground of illness. Pillow and Shields, who were thought no less willing than Twiggs to make a bid for glory at the expense of their men, then demanded a day for rest and preparation; and accordingly, about sunset on the thirteenth, orders for the attack were issued.[20]

DISCOURAGEMENT

But the officers and soldiers, distrusting alike the information and the ability of their commander, now felt extremely depressed. The situation appeared hopeless, thought even Lieutenant U. S. Grant; and Captain Robert E. Lee described the Mexican position as an “unscalable” precipice on one side and “impassable” ravines on the other. It seemed, wrote a third man, like a Gibraltar; and the idea of assailing it with Twiggs for leader inspired the deepest alarm. Everybody not selfishly ambitious desired to wait for the commander-in-chief; and yet Polk, in order to justify his depreciation of Scott, said with reference to this very situation, that our forces would be victorious “if there was not an officer among them.” Suddenly, however, the faces of the men brooding round their bivouac fires lighted up, for news came that Patterson, in order to veto the project of Twiggs, had assumed the command, and ordered offensive operations to be suspended.[20]

Scott, whose ideas of an army differed radically from those prevalent in Mexico, hardly believed that Santa Anna could place himself below Jalapa at this time with as many as 4000 men, even though reports of a larger number reached him; but he arranged to drop his work at Vera Cruz on the first news of serious opposition, and letters from Twiggs and Pillow, received late on April 11 led him to set out the next day. Early on Wednesday afternoon, the 14th, he was at Plan del Río, doffing his old straw hat as the soldiers, who doubtless realized that in taking Vera Cruz by siege instead of assault he had spared their lives, cheered tumultuously. Instantly chaos became order, confidence reigned, and the jealous clashes of the commanders ended. Now something will be done, thought the officers; the soldiers began to laugh and whistle; and what an officer called a “hum of satisfaction” pervaded the camp. Already the battle was half gained.[23]

Engineers Beauregard and Tower had by this time done some reconnoitring, and, as indeed would have been fairly obvious to any intelligent person, had concluded that a turning movement against the Mexican left—toward which a trail had been found to lead—offered the best hope. But an idea was not a plan. The reconnaissances were far from complete, and reports upon the Mexican position and numbers differed materially. Hence the commander-in-chief, who accepted everything valuable done by his subordinates but never surrendered his own judgment, decided to begin anew, and, in the hope of gaining the highway in Santa Anna’s rear and cutting off his entire army, sent Captain Lee at once to the ravines.[21] Friday that indefatigable engineer found himself in contact with the Mexican lines far to the rear of El Telégrafo. Reconnoitring could go no farther, and the highway toward Jalapa was not actually seen; but there were good reasons for believing it near, and the construction of a “road” for troops and artillery on the route discovered by Lee was pressed with great energy. At about 9 o’clock on Friday evening all the facts and conclusions were brought together in a plan by Major John L. Smith, senior engineer on the ground, and in substance his plan was adopted. Its essential point was, in accordance with Scott’s announced aim, to gain the highway in the Mexican rear first of all, and then—not until then—attack in the rear and perhaps also on the front.[22] After the adjournment of this conference the army was further cheered by the arrival of Worth, 1600 picked men and a number of heavy guns. The Mexican forces were estimated as 12–18,000, and Scott had only 8500; but the bright stars of that night looked down on an army sleeping soundly in full courage and confidence.[23]

PRELIMINARY OPERATIONS

At seven or eight o’clock the next morning Twiggs advanced. His instructions were to avoid a collision, occupy La Atalaya, reach the Mexican left, and rest on his arms near the highway until the remainder of the army should be in position, and the time for acting decisively should arrive. Accordingly, after marching about three miles along the highway he turned off to the right by the road already cut, ordering the men to trail arms and preserve absolute silence. At one point the road lay for twenty-five or thirty feet in view of the enemy, and Lee proposed to screen it with brush. But this appeared to Twiggs quite unnecessary, and hence the Mexicans could observe not only the troops but four mountain howitzers, four 6-pounders, and two 12-pounders gleaming in the sun. Pinzón and also the outpost on La Atalaya notified Santa Anna of the American movement, and strong reinforcements were therefore despatched to that hill.[26]

BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO
CENTRAL PART OF THE FIELD

Twiggs advanced but slowly, for the road—hewed in the roughest way through oaks, mesquite, chaparral, cactus and the like and over almost impassable ground—could barely answer its purpose, but about noonday the command found itself in the vicinity of La Atalaya. Lieutenant Gardner of the Seventh Infantry was then directed to ascend a neighboring hill with Company E, and take an observation of the enemy. He was attacked; upon which Colonel Harney, now commanding Twiggs’s first brigade in place of Persifor F. Smith, who was ill, sent forces to relieve him, pursued the Mexicans to La Atalaya with the Mounted Rifles, First Artillery and other troops, and after a stiff combat occupied that point.[26]

One of the captains—for on such ground independence of action was unavoidable—inquired of Twiggs how far to charge the enemy. “Charge ’em to hell!” roared the Bengal Tiger; and naturally enough a small American force rushed down the farther slope of La Atalaya and began to ascend El Telégrafo. It was then in a desperate situation, exposed to the cannon of the Mexicans and to overwhelming numbers. A party of Americans under Major Sumner, which bravely hastened to its relief, succeeded only in sharing its plight. But happily cover was found; a howitzer discouraged the enemy; and later this group was able to retire. La Atalaya remained in American hands despite attempts to recover it; but the Mexicans had been fully warned, and our troops were not lying on their arms near the Jalapa route. Meantime or soon Shields’s brigade came to the support of Twiggs, who now had control of nearly 5000 men. The casualties amounted to about ninety on our side and more than two hundred on the other; but the Mexicans, whose operations had been directed by Santa Anna himself, believed the Americans had seriously attacked El Telégrafo, and exulted loudly with shouts and music over what seemed to them a triumph.[26]

Santa Anna did not yet believe, or would not admit, that Scott’s main drive would be aimed against his left, but he recognized the wisdom of strengthening that wing. He therefore ordered a breastwork, which was made of short palisades reinforced behind with stones and brush, to be thrown up near the base of El Telégrafo, placed a couple of 12-pounders, the Second Ligero and the Fourth Line regiments on the summit, selected brave Ciriaco Vázquez to command there, planted five guns on a slight eminence near headquarters to guard the mouth of a wooded ravine on the left, had the ground in front of this battery partly cleared, and ordered the Eleventh regiment and Canalizo’s cavalry to support the guns. The Americans were not less active. By dint of extraordinary exertions General Shields’s brigade, assisted by other troops, dragged a 24-pounder and two 24-pound howitzers with ropes through the woods and rocky gorges, pulled them up the steep and bristling side of La Atalaya, mounted them, and constructed a parapet for them and the rocket battery; and with perhaps even greater difficulty four New York companies placed an 8-inch howitzer on the farther side of Río del Plan over against the tongues, A, B and C. Darkness and rain did not facilitate these operations.[26]

THE BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO

Sunday morning the sky was clear, a gentle breeze from the Gulf just fluttered the red, white and green flag on the stone tower, and the Mexican trumpets blared in all directions. Soon the guns of La Atalaya solemnly announced the battle, producing consternation at first on the summit of El Telégrafo; but the pieces were badly aimed, and accomplished little beyond encouraging the Americans and calling forth a vigorous reply.[24] The Second Infantry and Fourth Artillery under Brevet Colonel Riley of Twiggs’s division now moved on toward Santa Anna’s rear and the Jalapa route, supported by the brigade of Shields, which included the New York regiment and the Third and Fourth Illinois. Learning of this activity in the valley, General Vázquez ordered Colonel Uraga with the Fourth Infantry and a 4-pounder to the minor crest of El Telégrafo, and as Riley crossed the continuation of the spur he was much annoyed by their fire. Four companies of the Second Infantry were therefore detached as skirmishers, and before long, in spite of Scott’s orders and the protest of Lee, who was conducting Riley’s command, Twiggs, pawing the ground somewhere out of range, ordered Riley’s whole brigade up the hill. Shields, however, proceeded along the route discovered by Lee. The ground was rough and precipitous, and the growth of trees and thorny chaparral dense; but the General—a stout, soldier-like man with a heavy mustache, black hair and brilliant dark eyes—had a great deal of energy, and in three straggling files his men pushed on.[26]

During the artillery duel Harney’s command lay under cover on the summit of La Atalaya, listening to the harsh, bitter shriek of the Mexican grape, which tore the bushes into shreds; but at about 7 o’clock a charge upon El Telégrafo was ordered.[25] As the troops measured the height, crowned with guns and fortifications and topped off with a scornful banner, the attempt seemed almost impudent; but that was the day’s work, and it had to be done. First the “cursed Riflemen,” as the Mexicans named them, were diverted to the left, where the Mexican Sixth Infantry could be seen approaching; the bugles sounded; and then the Third and the Seventh Infantry, supported by the First Artillery, dashed down the slope of La Atalaya. Here and in the valley they were swept by a deadly shower of bullets, canister and grape, and the front melted like snowflakes; but, as fearless Captain Roberts of the Rifles put it, “When dangers thickened and death talked more familiarly face to face, the men seemed to rise above every terror.” The contest at the palisade breastwork was hard, and the Mexicans dared even to cross bayonets with Americans; but they finally gave way. Here a little time was taken for rest, and then forward pressed the troops, helping themselves up the slope, over craggy rocks and loose stones, and through the chaparral by catching at bushes and trees. The screen of woods and the steepness of the incline protected them now.[26]

Very different proved the cleared part of the hill, where small trees, bushes and thorny cactus lay spread with tops pointing down. Here progress was slow and concealment impossible. But with deliberate fearlessness the men plodded firmly on, firing at will, strong in that mutual confidence which gives a charge its force. They “seem to despise death,” cried the Mexicans in astonishment. Here and there one was struck down; here and there, breathless and exhausted, one dropped; but no flinching could be seen. Like the wave of fire in a burning prairie, the line moved steadily up. “Charge, charge!” shouted the officers; and the men yelled and cheered, yelled and cheered, yelled and cheered till sometimes it seemed as if even the trees were cheering, till sometimes the roar of the guns could not be heard; and Harney—red-headed, tempestuous Harney of the steel-blue eyes—at last in his element, led them as they deserved to be led. Superbly tall, his athletic figure needed no plume; the sword in his long arm waved them on; like the keen edge of a billow rushing upon the shore his calm, shrill voice rode the tumult.[26]

Just below the crest a pause for breath; and then the blue stripe was up and over. At the breastwork the fighting was sharp, for Santa Anna had sent up two more regiments; but soon Vázquez fell; with pistols, bayonets and clubbed muskets the Mexicans were driven from the summit; and in a moment big Sergeant Henry of the Seventh had the Stars and Stripes flying from the tower. Riley’s men, pushing up through dense thickets under a hot fire, had now taken possession of the spur; and while some of them hurried on to join Harney, others shot down the gunners of the battery on the summit. In a twinkling Captain Magruder turned the pieces, and poured a storm of iron on the flying Mexicans. General Baneneli, commanding the reserve just below, tried hard to charge, but his men would not face the yelling Americans. The Grenadiers and the Eleventh Infantry, hurried by Santa Anna in that direction, were overwhelmed by the fugitives; Riley’s advance plunged down the hill toward the Mexican camp; and an indescribable confusion ensued.[26]

Just at this time, after a fearful march of perhaps two miles, Shields with his foremost companies emerged from the chaparral on the Mexican left, and hastily prepared to charge. Three guns of the headquarters battery, one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards distant in their front, had been turned upon Riley, but the other two let fly at them. Shields fell and his men recoiled. It was no wonder. About three hundred raw volunteers, without regulars and without artillery, stood before cannon and an army! Some two thousand fresh horse under Canalizo, guarding that very ravine, faced them just at the left of the battery, and the cannon kept at work. But their mere emerging from the close chaparral at this point, in a strength which the enemy could not measure, was of itself a triumph.[26]

“The Yankees! They have come out to the road!” cried the Mexicans; “Every one for himself!” Some of Riley’s men shot down or frightened away the gunners of the battery, and in another moment seized three of the pieces. At the same instant a section of Shields’s brigade, which had now come up in more force, captured the other two, while a second section, followed by the Seventh Infantry, struck for the highway. Canalizo, afraid of being cut off, took flight, as many had already done; and all the rest of the Mexicans who could, either followed him or, like Santa Anna himself, rushed headlong down one or the other of two paths, narrow and steep, that descended into the canyon of the Río del Plan. Scott, who had watched the charge “under a canopy of balls,” as Major Patten said, was now on the scene. Harney, his old foe, he greeted in the warmest and friendliest of terms; and, as he moved among the victorious troops with tears rolling down his cheeks, he spoke to them noble and touching words, as not merely their commander but their elder brother in arms, fully sharing their pains, their pride and their joy.[26]

While these brave scenes were enacted, the other flank witnessed a burlesque of war. Naturally Scott planned to attack the Mexican right in order to deceive Santa Anna regarding his intentions, prevent the troops of that wing from going to the assistance of the other, and perhaps accomplish something positive in that quarter.[27] This piece of work was assigned to Pillow’s brigade, and although he objected to it as dangerous, a hint about discipline brought him into line. As early as April 13, in view of Twiggs’s plan, he and Lieutenant Tower of the engineers had reconnoitred the ground, and this examination had been continued on the fifteenth and sixteenth; but the General did not understand or did not remember what he saw. It was clear, however, that a force attacking between A and the canyon would have the enemy on but one side, and would be as far as possible from the guns occupying B and C. With Scott’s approval this plan was adopted, and the 8-inch howitzer was placed so as to command the flank and rear of the battery at A.[29]

Pillow’s orders were to set out on his march of about four miles at 6 o’clock on Sunday morning, yet he did not reach his position until almost 9. One reason for the delay probably was, that in consequence of a manoeuvre, executed by his order, the rear of the column missed the proper route. Another reason also may be surmised. Aside from wanting confidence in their general’s military capacity, his troops had long disliked him; and his display of unfeeling harshness on the march from Vera Cruz had given further offence. Under such circumstances things never can go well.[29]

During the march he announced that he had changed his mind, and would have the First Pennsylvania (Wynkoop) supported by the First Tennessee (Campbell) attack on the northern face of tongue A, and the Second Tennessee (Haskell) supported by the Second Pennsylvania (Roberts) attack on the southern face of B, which was obviously sure—since it guarded the old road—to be held more strongly than either of the other tongues.[28] This ingenious plan, moreover, divided the American while tending to concentrate the Mexican strength. By mismanagement he reversed both of his attacking regiments—a mistake that caused embarrassment and loss of time; and then on leaving the highway, about three miles from Plan del Río, and entering the narrow path leading to the point of attack, he adopted this order: Wynkoop, Haskell, Campbell, Roberts, which—since it was necessary to advance mostly in single file—placed Campbell and Roberts a long distance from the troops that each was to support, so that neither of them reached his position before the fighting on this wing ended.[29]

On arriving at the appointed spot, where the orders of Mexican officers at B could be heard very distinctly, Haskell began to form his badly scattered regiment. “Why the Hell don’t Colonel Wynkoop file to the right?” shouted Pillow at the top of his voice. A bugle in the front sounded instantly, and within three minutes the Mexicans opened a heavy fire of grape and canister. Some of Haskell’s men, brave but not in hand, bolted; others took shelter; and the rest, at Pillow’s order, charged pell-mell. Emerging into the cleared space they received a murderous fire from all of the tongues. In less than three minutes about eighty, including every field officer except the colonel, were either killed or wounded, and all able to move were in flight. Pillow meanwhile, squatting in the bushes with his back to the enemy at a distance of about 450 yards, was “shot all to pieces,” as he said, by a canister bullet that slightly wounded his upper arm; and he retired at a run, leaving Wynkoop without the promised instructions.[29]

A state of general confusion ensued. Campbell and his men were anxious to charge; Wynkoop felt no less eager when it was too late; the Second Pennsylvania was demoralized; all were more or less under fire. Campbell, however, to whom Pillow resigned the command, got the men almost ready to charge upon tongue A; but then Pillow, venturing back from the rear, withdrew his brigade so far into the woods that, until notified by Scott, he did not know the Mexicans in his front, who found their rear was occupied by the Americans, had surrendered. As for the 8-inch howitzer, it fired seven ineffective shells; and then, at the critical time, as Pillow had neglected to arrange a code of signals, Ripley, who controlled it, suspended work. Evidently, as Polk said, gallant Americans—and such Pillow’s men really were—did not require a commander![29]

A little before 10 o’clock the fighting was over and pursuit began. Having little cavalry and no adequate subsistence train Scott’s powers in this respect were limited; but every man had been expected to set out in the morning with rations for two days, and substantially all the troops except Pillow’s, accompanied by two incomplete batteries, moved actively forward. Patterson once more became well enough to act, and took charge of the advanced forces. Frequently bands of fugitives were seen at a distance, looking in their cotton or linen jackets like flocks of sheep. The artillery had some fair long shots, and occasionally other troops also came within reach of the enemy. But the Mexicans fled—even the cavalry—without stopping for ceremony, too much cowed to face even a small party of Americans; and the results were of little significance.[31]

Heat and exhaustion checked the most advanced pursuers about four miles from Jalapa, but nothing could stop the Mexicans. Like stampeded cattle, the fugitives thought only of flying until worn out. No stand was made at Jalapa. At La Hoya, the second line of defence, General Gómez, hearing of the disaster, sent word to the rear, “All is lost at Cerro Gordo, all, all!” and fled. In complete disorder, panting, starving, falling by the way—the horses of the cavalry in a like state—the men streamed on toward Puebla, plundering when they could. Thousands also of those who surrendered managed to escape at one place or another in the rough, wooded country, and, as Scott could with difficulty feed his own army and thought future opposition could be weakened by proving the friendly sentiments of his proclamation, the remaining 3000 were released on parole.[30] More than 4000 stand of arms, old and not worth using, were destroyed; and about forty cannon, which Scott had no means of transporting, were rendered unserviceable and left at Cerro Gordo. The Mexican casualties were estimated at 1000 or 1200, while the American loss during the two days amounted to only thirty officers and 387 men, of whom sixty-four were killed.[31]

JALAPA OCCUPIED

Next morning the Americans advanced again. For the two last miles below Jalapa the highway ran between continuous hedges loaded with blossoms and vocal with the songs of birds, while bougainvillea flamed here and there on a cabin or tree-top in a conflagration of purple, and the air was laden with delicious perfumes; and when the town was descried from an eminence, it seemed like a delicate mosaic set in a massive frame of rich emerald. Friends had been left behind forever, but grief was offset by the joy of surviving; and after dressing ranks the troops began to enter Jalapa at about 9 o’clock with bayonets fixed, colors flying and bands playing. Some of the girls could not help laughing at the unkempt appearance and nondescript costumes of the terrible and victorious Yankees; but the people, who lined the streets, appeared neither hostile nor afraid, and the bells rang out a welcome.[32] The soldiers for their part soon felt they had reached Eden, and they were none the less content on hearing of the dull saffron haze which now hung over Vera Cruz—a visible token that “King Death in his Yellow Robe” had once more set up his throne there; while Scott himself, wishing to tranquillize the army and favorably impress the public, proceeded to hide the errors of his subordinates with reports that misled the public.[33] As for the future he cheerfully announced, “Mexico has no longer an army.” Apparently the United States had a very substantial one; but surprises were soon to occur.[34]

XXIV
PUEBLA
April-August, 1847

THE ADVANCE FROM JALAPA

Wishing to take advantage of the Mexican panic, Scott hurried Worth’s division after the fugitives. Down the steep hill on which Jalapa lies poured the men in blue, passing the little plaza and the quaint cathedral; and then without halt, leaving the city of flowers and its groves of liquidambar, they set out on a long, gradual ascent. What a march they now had! “The most beautiful country there is,” commented an officer; and his remark was truer than he knew. Dominated by the splendid snowy peak of Orizaba, there spread a vast expanse of hills and gorges, mountains and valleys, here studded with white villages, there gemmed with a silver cascade, yonder brightened with fresh fields of corn and grain, always variegated with the shadows of lazy clouds, and everywhere softly receding into a deeper and still deeper blue; and as the column wound in and out through the clear, cool and fragrant atmosphere, every turn revealed new beauties or displayed once more the beauties already seen—only a little nearer each time, or a little more remote.[1]

Gradually the ascent grew sharper and the air cooler, and about a dozen miles from Jalapa Worth came to the Black Pass—the “terrible pass,” wrote Scott—of La Hoya, where for more than a mile the troops were squeezed between two steep mountains, cleared to afford artillery a fair sweep, and partly fortified; but the seven or eight guns lay on the ground spiked, and not an enemy could be seen. Then after making a sharp twist they kept on winding and ascending for about six miles till they reached the log houses of Las Vigas, much like those of Russia and Sweden. Vegetation was luxuriant still; but the trees on the steep hills at the left were evergreens, and the flowers that brightened the overtowering walls, buttresses and spurting arches of black lava were mostly dandelions and yellow jarilla, for the Americans now stood a mile and a half above the sea and almost three quarters of a mile above Jalapa. Here the winds bit; and now and then masses of thick vapor, whirling up from an immense gorge and burying the column for a time in wintry twilight, would sweep on ahead of it in rolling, shining volumes of heaven-high clouds.[1]

JALAPA TO PUEBLA

This was the final pass; and after marching some twelve miles farther, one saw at the left edge of a sandy, gravelly plain, set with occasional tufts of coarse grass, the dust-brown castle of Perote and, seemingly just above it though in reality several miles distant, the pine-clad mountain of that name. The castle was a superb specimen of military architecture, capable of accommodating more than 2000 men; but it had long served chiefly as a state prison, a refuge for troops, an arsenal, and a dépôt for the rich convoys that went this way. The American troops could have passed by on the other side of the plain, had that been necessary; but it was not. With only twenty-three gunners and scarcely any powder, General Gaona could not have defended the place. Canalizo therefore ordered him to evacuate it on the nineteenth; and at noon on the twenty-second Worth took possession of its elaborate bastions, more than fifty cannon, more than 25,000 balls and shells and even 500 muskets, which the terror-stricken Mexicans had not cared to remove. Throwing Garland’s brigade and Duncan’s battery about fifteen miles in advance to facilitate the gathering of subsistence, Worth now halted in accordance with his orders.[1]

SCOTT’S DIFFICULTIES

Scott meantime remained at Jalapa to study his problems and make his preparations. The capital of Mexico, he believed, lay at his mercy, and this opinion seems to have been correct; but unlike his critics, who merely had to deal with legions of ink on areas of paper, he found that much needed to be done before seizing it. The position of the Americans depended vitally on military prestige, and it was therefore of the utmost importance to suffer no reverse. His first care was to make sure of getting up in advance of the especially fatal rainy season, which was expected to begin at the latest by the first week of June, the needful clothing, equipments, ammunition, salt, medicines and many other imported articles; and since the lack of cavalry and a due regard for the health of the troops forbade trying to keep the road below Cerro Gordo clear of Mexicans, this tedious work involved the use of heavily escorted convoys,[2] and the exercise of unceasing vigilance, energy and skill.[6]

Profile of the Route from Vera Cruz to Mexico

His next care was to gather provisions, determine whether supplies of breadstuffs, meats, rice, beans, coffee, sugar and forage existed near the proposed line of march, and arrange for obtaining them despite the hatred of the people, which quite equalled their fear.[3] A third care was to divine what Santa Anna intended and was able to do, for news came that he was now on our flank and rear, preparing to conduct guerilla war against the American detachments and convoys. Contrary to his expectation Scott found subsistence and forage scarce at Jalapa, and as Quitman’s brigade came up without the extra rations it had been ordered to bring, the situation proved embarrassing. A scarcity of funds aggravated it alarmingly. An immediate advance upon the capital was therefore out of the question; but on April 30 Scott issued preliminary instructions, enjoining kind treatment of the people in the strongest possible terms, as absolutely necessary if the troops did not wish to starve; and the volunteers were ordered to set out on the fourth and fifth of May.[6]

But now a difficulty that had been feared by Scott rose directly in his path. Seven regiments and two companies of volunteers were to be free at various near dates, averaging about the middle of June. Polk, believing that many would reënlist, had recommended that a bounty should be offered as an inducement, and Congress had acted upon the suggestion. April 26 General Scott received the law and promptly circulated it; but he soon found that Polk’s expectations were to be disappointed.[6]

It would have been quite agreeable to linger at Jalapa, strolling about this paradise of birds, gazing at the many-hued blossoms of a perpetual springtime, feasting on the delicacies of semi-tropical gardens, winning occasional glimpses of exotic luxury through doors ajar, listening to ever-graceful señoritas—a few dazzling blondes as well as many sparkling brunettes—who played the guitar hour after hour in their grated windows, and catching glances now and then from eyes of fire; but the soldiers had learned what campaigning really meant. They had been allowed to go unpaid and unprovided for. They had met with hardships and privations not counted upon at the time of enlistment. Disease, battle, death, fearful toil and frightful marches had been found realities. Besides, they had now “seen the elephant,” as they said; they felt they had won glory enough; and, as even Colonel Campbell admitted, they “sighed heavily” for home, family and friends. In spite of their strong desire to see the Halls of the Montezumas, out of about 3700 men only enough to make one company would reëngage, and special inducements, offered by the General, to remain as teamsters proved wholly ineffective.[6]

One course now open to Scott was to march on, trusting that new forces would arrive seasonably to replace the soldiers discharged; but of this he had no assurance. Another was to assume that even when legally free the volunteers would not abandon him in the enemy’s capital; but the evidence was all to the contrary. More than once American troops had insisted upon their rights without considering the needs of the country; and now five colonels declared in writing that “only a very small proportion” of their men would “under any supposable circumstances” remain in the service “for any time whatever” beyond their term. Such was the sentiment of all these volunteers.[6]

Moreover, to advance, capture Mexico and so force the men to sail from Vera Cruz in the midst of the pestilential season would have been insubordinate as well as inhumane, for the government had ordered most emphatically, with particular reference to the yellow fever, that regard for their health must outweigh all military considerations.[4] The returning volunteers would also have been exposed, under inexperienced commanders and without a proper complement of artillery, to Santa Anna and the guerillas, and those remaining behind at the capital would have been regarded by the Mexicans as destined prey. On the other hand, should the entire army retreat after capturing Mexico, the exultant people would have risen almost en masse to starve, harass and slaughter them; while even Worth doubted whether Scott’s whole force, could it by any possibility be persuaded to remain intact, would be strong enough to hold the capital. Finally, as the sequel was to show and as any well-informed person could have foreseen, merely capturing and retaining Mexico City was not sure by any means to end the war. The seat of government could easily move, and Scott was correctly informed that it proposed to do so. Santa Anna was in the field with a growing army; his moral and physical resources had not been exhausted; and more fighting needed to be done.[6]

Scott was called slow by some of his critics, but when the case permitted he could make a quick decision; and on the sixth and seventh of May the volunteers referred to—“with a joyous and pleasant countenance upon every man,” as one of them wrote—set out for home under Patterson.[5] Their departure left the General with an army of 7113. As for early reinforcements, he had recommended on November 29 the addition of twelve regiments to the regular establishment, and had said that about the first of May they would be indispensable; but at present he only knew that 960 recruits were on the way. None the less he sent Quitman forward with three regiments of November volunteers, and on the sixth of May instructed Worth to advance with his division and two of those regiments, led by Quitman, against Puebla, leaving the third regiment with a sufficient number of artillerists at Perote.[6]

MEXICAN ASSISTANCE

For the confidence with which less than 4000 men were thus advanced beyond the reach of prompt assistance, to cope with a strong city and the Mexican troops, there was a special reason. The heads of the Roman Catholic Church in Mexico, who did not feel all the religious intolerance which they deemed it proper to exhibit in public, cherished no love toward Santa Anna. For many years his rapacity had given them offence; and one of his first acts on landing at Vera Cruz in August, 1846, had been to strike at their power. They had therefore felt disposed to favor the continuance of hostilities, hoping that he and his myrmidons would be destroyed. But when Moses Y. Beach made it plain to them on the one hand that resistance to the United States would be dangerous, and on the other guaranteed the freedom and the property of Church and citizens, they decided to support our efforts in behalf of peace, work against Santa Anna as the chief obstacle, and arrange secretly to have Jalapa, Perote, Puebla and Mexico City refrain from opposing Scott.[8]

At “unconquered Puebla,” which was more fully under the domination of the Church than any other Mexican town, circumstances favored the clerical design. Terrible stories had been circulated there about the Americans. They were barbarians, vandals, tigers; they had branded and sent across the Gulf into slavery shiploads of Tampico people, and stuck little children on their bayonets at Vera Cruz. But these tales had now lost all credibility. Santa Anna had been found out. Buena Vista no longer seemed a Mexican victory. The military caste was not only hated but despised. News had come that wherever the Americans took possession, odious taxes were abolished and trade became brisk. Scott’s treatment of the people shone in comparison with Santa Anna’s, and his soldiers looked angelic beside the guerillas. The defeat at Cerro Gordo caused not only deep discouragement but even deeper disgust, for the men and money of the state had been sacrificed to the incompetence of the commanders. Besides, marvels were told of the Americans. They could hew a man asunder at one stroke; their horses were gigantic and incredibly swift; their artillery was unspeakably terrible; and every one of their bullets might split into fifty pieces, each of the pieces fatal. Worth’s division included 5000 of these warriors, an American deserter stated.[8]

With such popular support the clericals had Isunza, who was closely connected with them, put in place of the vigorous Ibarra as governor, and he not only took a stand for non-resistance, but answered the appeals of the national government with sharp complaints. Instead of preaching against the Americans, the churchmen led pious processions about the streets, to show that prayer and not the arm of flesh was to be relied upon. The arms and ammunition were sent away—for safe-keeping. The governor would supply no funds for military purposes. “Reason prohibits vain sacrifices,” he remarked. The comandante general decided that the city could not be defended. The prefect ordered that after the arrival of the Americans, not more than three citizens were to meet in public, and that none should carry arms; while the ayuntamiento announced that no unsigned placards would be tolerated. “Men are not all called to play the rôle of heroes,” observed the Monitor del Pueblo. We can only “await with resignation the terrible blow with which Providence chooses to afflict us,” decided the city authorities. All the arrangements are complete, Worth was notified by headquarters on the tenth of May. The people are waiting for you, reported foreigners from Puebla.[8]

Scott, for his part, agreed to protect the citizens and especially the Church, and he put forth on the eleventh of May a proclamation called by him “the crowning act of conciliation,” which was drawn up under his direction by a representative of the bishop of Puebla, and embodied the ideas and sentiments deemed by the leaders of the clerical party most likely to be effective.[7] The oppression under which the people of Mexico lay crushed received in this proclamation brief but vivid treatment, distrust regarding Santa Anna’s abilities, honor and aims was excited, and the Americans were represented as true brethren of the Mexicans. Paredes, an unpatriotic usurper, had forced us to take up arms in behalf of republican institutions and the welfare of the whole continent, as well as for the maintenance of our proper dignity; but we were anxious now as ever, to live in peace and friendship with Mexico, even though determined, if the war must continue, to do the work of the sword thoroughly.[8]

SANTA ANNA’S MEASURES

On the other hand Santa Anna was not idle. His first thought on quitting the terrible field of Cerro Gordo was that Canalizo’s horse would stop at El Encero, and that he might rally the flying infantry upon it; but on moving in that direction by the southern bank of Río del Plan he found himself cut off by the American pursuit, and turned abruptly to the left. Always profoundly depressed after a reverse, he rode along grim and speechless, as if stunned; but the next day an enthusiastic reception at a small town, aided perhaps by the marvellous beauty of the district, lifted his head. In the early evening of April 21 he reached Orizaba, and here the applause of the readily excited townsfolk made him feel himself once more a general and a President.[12]

His low intellectual plane did not permit him to understand his mental inferiority or to perceive the real strength of the unpretentious and apparently careless Americans.[9] It was impossible for him, looking abroad upon a vast and potentially rich country with all the vanity of his people, to believe that a handful of poorly dressed Yankees, imperfectly trained and seemingly not very martial, could overpower its millions. He felt that sooner or later his groping finger would touch the right spring, as it had done so many times before, and the nation would rise up about him. Pride, self-will and blind passion, raging in his heart, inflamed his courage; and his sense of a proprietary claim to the country inspired him with a sort of patriotism. What has been lost after all, he said, except a position and some cannon? The nation is still mighty. Let it but join me, and I shall yet be victorious.[12]

Within his reach lay the brigade of Antonio de León—a little more than 1000 poorly armed men with two 6-pounders—just from Oaxaca, the presence of which in this quarter had brought him to Orizaba, and also the National Guards ordered before the battle to Chiquihuite. Larger and smaller bodies of fugitives and irregulars, learning where he was, came in. All the armed men of the vicinity, whatever their proper function, he caught in his unsparing net, and he summoned to the colors every citizen from sixteen to forty years of age. Beyond the sweep of his arm far less animation reigned. One disappointment more, one hope less now, was the mildest frame of mind among the public. Canalizo, a faithful dog that for the present had been kicked one time too many, sharply resented Santa Anna’s complaints. The scattering soldiers and officers, denouncing him bitterly as well as exaggerating the power of the Americans, discouraged the people. A popular newspaper demanded savagely that he should be court-martialled. The charge of collusion with the invaders came back to life. Many of the Indians, feeling that an American triumph would help them, became restive.[12]

But the government stood resolutely behind him, and he was invested with plenary powers. Soto tried again to rouse the people of the state. From a wider and wider circle fugitives and laboring men were gathered. Small cannon and some artillerists came within his reach. The stocks of horses and mules that Scott had tried in vain to get from the region of the upper Alvarado River were turned to account. Considerable money and supplies arrived from the government, and other funds and necessaries were taken without formalities wherever they could be discovered.[10] By the first of May he pretended there were 4000 men under his flag, and no doubt he did have 2500.[12]

By good fortune more than by design, too, he found himself in an excellent position, within striking distance of Scott’s communications, rear and base; and even though not richly imbued with the spirit of Napoleonic warfare, he laid his plans accordingly. But—fortunately for Scott, who might have been seriously embarrassed[11]—Santa Anna was more politician than general. On May 15 the election of a President was to occur, and the votes had to be counted at the seat of government. His enemies and rivals were incessantly busy there. A revolution had begun to brew, he understood. A suspicion had got abroad that he intended to give up the fight and move into Guatemala; and news reached him that Mexico City was to be surrendered. For these reasons and to obtain additional supplies, all his forces were directed upon Puebla; and at the head of a motley and miserable army numbering—he boasted—4500 men he arrived there on May 11.[12]

His reception was not flattering. Aside from the fact that everybody of much account felt ready to see Scott, the town had suffered previously through Santa Anna’s visiting it, accounts of his exactions had come from Orizaba, his presence was thought likely to result in hostilities, and the people feared that he would compel them to take up arms. Many fled at his approach, and many more wished they were elsewhere. Not without excuse under the circumstances, his conduct was arbitrary, insulting and extortionate. He cashiered all the officers of the Vera Cruz garrison, raved at the indifference of the authorities and people at Puebla, seized the horses, made liberal demands for cash, and—it was asserted—even took ornaments of gold from the churches. Some funds, a quantity of ammunition and some cannon were finally obtained here; but Isunza furnished him less than two hundred men, and perhaps the indignation of the people quite offset his gains.[13]

THE AMERICANS MARCH ON

Close behind him, too, came the Americans. Already a day’s march apart, Worth’s two brigades maintained that interval for some time, followed by Quitman with the New York and South Carolina regiments at an equal distance. For six or eight miles from Perote the country was highly cultivated and already brown with ripening wheat and barley; but then came a sandy, arid region where steep, conical hills of bare limestone, calcined like those of the Rhone valley, shot up from a wide, smooth plain in extravagant confusion, and appeared to bar the way. Hacienda buildings that were crenellated fortresses could be seen here and there; but the only cheering sights were glimpses of silvery Orizaba, a number of smaller mountains with Italian profiles, forked lightnings at play sometimes in the black clouds, and mirages of gardens, lakes and sylvan shores that deceived even the most experienced.[14]

At Ojo de Agua, about thirty-five miles from Perote, a spring of water almost as large as the fountain of Vaucluse gave rise to a creek, which watered palmettoes and extensive meadows. Eight or nine miles farther on, the troops came to dark Nopalucan, which lay reclining on a comfortable eminence and viewing complacently its fertile valley. Then some twenty-five miles of romantic scenery brought them to Amozoc, a manufacturing town of 2000 souls ten or eleven miles from Puebla, and here Worth, who had made easy marches for two days in order to lessen the interval between him and Quitman, halted his now united brigades at noon on the fourteenth to await that officer, and to give his own dusty division time to “brush up.”[14]

Santa Anna, after sending his infantry and artillery toward Mexico early that morning, had moved off with some 2000 cavalry to surprise Quitman, supposing that he would be at his usual distance behind Worth, and that Worth had continued his march. The consequence was that his troops, finding themselves at about eight o’clock within half a mile or so of Duncan’s battery and under fire, scattered promptly up the hills and into the woods. Divining correctly that he would reassemble them to strike at Quitman, Worth despatched forces at once to the rear; but Quitman, who had set out in the night, was now only two miles distant, and, warned by the artillery fire, had prepared to meet the enemy. Santa Anna therefore accomplished nothing more than to fatigue his men, and give them a superfluous lesson in running away; and after returning with them to Puebla for the night, he evacuated that city before daybreak the next morning with one more failure to his account.[14]

While at Nopalucan, May 12, Worth had addressed the governor and the municipality at Puebla, saying that in three days he should take possession of the city, and that he desired to confer with the civil authorities before doing so, in order to arrange for the maintenance of order and worship. Owing to what was regarded as a lack of formality in this proceeding and to Santa Anna’s insistence that Worth should have addressed him, no reply was made. But when a second letter arrived in the evening of the fourteenth, the ayuntamiento appointed a commission to meet the American general, and the next morning a conference took place at Chachapa, where our troops arrived at an early hour. Generous pledges of civil and religious protection were then offered and accepted; and the Pueblans, who adopted the usual jockeying tactics, drew from Worth an agreement that Mexican law, to be administered by Mexican authorities, should remain in force, although Scott’s General Orders 20 had thrown the protection of military law round the American troops.[15] In short, said Hitchcock, the inspector general of the army, Worth—not Puebla—surrendered; and Scott found it necessary to rectify the error.[17]

WORTH TAKES POSSESSION OF PUEBLA

At a little before ten o’clock that day the American troops—who had suffered badly from dust on the arid, stony hills, consoled only by views of the great snow-clad volcanoes glittering behind Puebla—approached the city. It was a proud moment for them when, as their brilliant commander said, “with all the flush and glow of victory in their hearts” they entered the second city of Mexico in importance and the first in military fame. Almost the entire population of the town looked on. Streets, sidewalks, windows and balconies were thronged with holiday-makers. As usual, the appearance of the victorious Americans fell sadly below expectation—perhaps only demigods in luminous mail could have reached it; but the people showed an intense curiosity to scrutinize them. Sometimes the troops had to work their way through the crowd; but no ill temper was displayed on either side, and finally, reaching the main plaza, our men stacked their arms and lay down to sleep as if at home.[17]

Puebla, a fine city laid out in the rectangular style and inhabited by some 80,000 persons, was chiefly noted for piety, cotton mills, dolls and sweetmeats. The principal feature was the cathedral with its two dark towers—each of them capped with a yellowish, incrusted dome bearing aloft a globe and cross, and each filled with numberless bells of all sizes, which singly performed special offices, and three times a day rang together in a celestial chorus. Eight or ten altars, refulgent with sacred vessels of gold, silver and precious stones in amazing profusion, lighted up the interior; and there was also a candelabra so big—or was it so grimy?—that $4000 had been paid a few months earlier for cleaning it. Near by, in the arcades of the plaza, could be found the dolls and sweetmeats; and of course Poblana market girls, too, were there: black eyes, black hair combed over the ears, huge silver ear-rings, snowy chemisette partly hidden with a gray rebosa (scarf), short red petticoat fastened round the waist with a silk band and fringed with yellow, small shoes and large silver buckles.[17]

For almost a fortnight Worth now had an opportunity to show the real breadth of his admired talents. With the ecclesiastical authorities, for obvious reasons, no difficulties occurred. He and the bishop exchanged calls promptly. Bells rang, churches opened, and in some of them public rejoicings were celebrated. But between him and the civil functionaries, mainly in consequence of his excessive complaisance, there sprang up not a little friction. His troops felt very much dissatisfied, for his nervous and restless temperament was in continual excitement about Mexican attacks, and once he kept them standing under arms needlessly all day. Such alarms came to be known as “Worth’s scarecrows”; and as the natural consequence, had a real danger presented itself, the men would have responded tardily and half-heartedly.[17]

Worse yet, on evidence for which he himself could not say much, he warned his division a little later (June 16) by means of a circular, that attempts to poison them were to be feared, adding gratuitously, “Doubtless there are among those with whom we are situated many who will not hesitate, as is the habit of cowards, to poison those from whom they habitually fly in battle—a resource familiar in Spanish history, legitimately inherited and willingly practised by Mexicans.” Of course the circular was not likely to elude publicity, and its indiscretion blazed. It gave the Pueblans a dangerous hint, insulted all Mexicans, and reflected grossly upon Spain, whose continued neutrality was highly desirable.[16] Evidently, though quite able to criticise, Worth did not possess all the qualifications of a commander-in-chief.[17]

THE AMERICAN SITUATION AT PUEBLA

Happily a wiser mind and steadier hand now took charge. Until May 20 General Scott had felt compelled to wait at Jalapa for a heavy train, from which he expected much more than he received. Two days later Twiggs set out, and on the twenty-eighth Scott—after leaving a garrison at Jalapa and a smaller one at Perote—reached Puebla with four troops of horse one day in advance of the division.[18] As at Plan del Río his arrival brought confidence and tranquillity. Needless alarms ended. Rumors of hostile forces were investigated promptly by his Mexican Spy Company[19] or other trustworthy persons, and the General fixed his mind on greater work than trying to hunt down every party of irregulars that raised a dust in the vicinity. The troops were drilled each morning and, if the weather permitted, later each day, and after about six weeks of this made a brilliant showing, when reviewed by divisions. The engineer soldiers received special training for the work supposed to lie before them; careful maps of the district between Puebla and the capital were prepared; and Scott frequently gathered the engineers and the heads of the army at his quarters of an evening, discussing military affairs or monologuing inimitably on the many interesting persons and events familiar to him.[22]

The Mexican government ordered that nothing marketable should be taken into the city, but the Pueblans replied unanswerably: There is no power to enforce that policy; and if there were, the result would be to starve us, not the Americans, for they could supply their needs by the sword and we could not. The markets offered, therefore, all sorts of articles and at moderate prices. Indeed they were too abundant, for the soldiers gormandized on fruits and sugar-cane brandy, and these indulgences, added to the want of salt meat, the change of climate and water, the rare atmosphere, the chilling winds and the lack of suitable clothing, caused a great amount of sickness—principally dysentery and ague. On the fourth of June more than 1000 Americans were on the invalid list, and that number largely increased.[22]

Sickness of mind prevailed no less. It depressed one to hear the dead march almost every evening. Rumors of wholesale plots to assassinate the officers and poison the men tried their nerves. Renewed efforts to cause desertion excited alarm. Whig speeches condemning the war and suggesting that bloody hands and hospitable graves ought rightfully to be the welcome of our soldiers in Mexico undermined confidence and courage. Poverty chilled their marrow. Men had served eight months and been paid for two. At the time when shoes and other indispensable clothing had to be obtained at an exorbitant cost, the army was already in debt and credit was flickering.[20] Through an intercepted letter the Mexicans knew of Scott’s financial difficulties, and the Americans knew that they knew. The expected revolution against Santa Anna did not break out, and a pacific President was not elected on June 15, as General Scott had almost expected.[22]

To crown all other discouragements, we had a ridiculously small army, while news came repeatedly that Santa Anna’s forces were growing rapidly. With less than 5800 privates—not over 4000 of them available for an advance—the General had to face, not only the Mexican army, but a nation of seven million inflammable persons, who might at any time be roused to fury by some untoward event. Even the 960 recruits that had been counted upon did not arrive. June 3, therefore, deciding to throw away the scabbard and meet all odds with the naked sword, he reluctantly ordered up to Puebla the garrison of Jalapa[21] and a part of the men left at Perote, cutting himself off in the heart of the enemy’s country.[22]

Pillow, the great captain, wrote censures on this course to Polk, and Polk, the consummate strategist, agreed with his agent; but Scott understood that necessity is a supreme law and courage the soldier’s first axiom. A farther advance was, however, impossible. To leave Puebla without a garrison, allowing that strong city, reoccupied by the enemy, to menace the rear and stand like a wall of stone across the path of reinforcements and supplies, was out of the question; and troops were also needed to protect helpers and overawe enemies among the civil population. If reduced by these deductions the army would not have constituted a striking force. Nothing could be done but stand at guard, and await new troops.[22]

THE PROBLEM OF REINFORCEMENTS

These, for a number of reasons, were delayed. Marcy’s report of December 5, 1846, presented to Congress at the opening of the session, admitted that the regular army stood nearly 7000 below full strength, and it also recommended the addition of ten regiments; but the administration, feeling at sea about its war policy, and not realizing how far the men on the firing-line came short of their estimated numbers or how much time would be required to place new troops there, took no decided stand in the matter. On the twenty-ninth, however, a bill authorizing the new regiments was presented in the House by the military committee, and the President followed this up some days later with a Message. A law offering a bounty of twelve dollars to encourage enlisting, upon which the war department acted promptly, was the next move; and on January 11, 1847, the House, excited by news that Worth stood in great peril at Saltillo, voted the new regiments. The Senate, on the other hand, procrastinated until Marcy was in despair, and Polk twice decided to address the country. Without much doubt partisan scheming and personal aims were chiefly responsible for the delay; but differences of opinion, more or less honest, regarding the comparative utility of regulars and volunteers, the expediency and proper terms of a land bounty, and the rights of the Senate in regard to the choice of officers caused much discussion, in which every issue touching the inception and conduct of the war had to run the gantlet of passionate vociferation.[25]

Progress was also hindered in another way. Although Polk had found it necessary to appoint Scott and had given that officer to understand that bygones were to be bygones, he liked him no better than before, did not wish the Whigs and their possible candidate for the Presidency to win more glory in the war, and realized the political wisdom—particularly in view of Calhoun’s unfriendliness—of pleasing the Van Buren Democrats. There were also objections to the existing arrangement that could be stated publicly. The number of troops to be employed in Mexico was said to require a chief of higher grade than a major general, and Polk took the ground that the commander—especially since he might be desired to handle the question of a treaty—should be in full agreement and sympathy with the Executive.[25]

For these combined reasons he offered to Benton the post of lieutenant general, provided it could be established, before Scott left Washington, and about the first of January requested Congress to authorize the appointment of such an officer.[23] This precipitated a commotion. The Senator’s harsh, domineering ways had made him unpopular, and grave doubts regarding his technical and temperamental fitness for the place existed not only in Congress but in the Cabinet. Calhoun and his friends detested the idea of letting Benton gain so much prestige and with it very likely the Presidency; the partisans of Taylor and Scott resented such treatment of their favorites; all the Whigs, besides suspecting Polk of scheming to evade responsibility and make Benton his grateful successor, rallied to the support of their two most prominent men; and, after serving for some time as an embarrassment, the plan was rejected.[25]

Finally, then, after a conference committee had adjusted the differences between the two Houses, the Ten Regiment Bill, though defeated once in the Senate, passed that body on February the tenth, and received Polk’s approval the next day; and as a loan bill had been worried through Congress at the end of January, something was apparently to be done.[24] Since, however, the officers were liable to be discharged on the conclusion of peace, it was not believed that many already in the service could be induced by a slight advance in rank to enter the new establishment, and for this and probably other reasons few of the more than five hundred places were offered to the army. The field was therefore clear for civilian warriors, and their campaign opened at once. Not limiting their operations to Capitol Hill, applicants for commissions besieged and assaulted the White House. “I have pushed them off and fought them with both hands like a man fighting fire,” wrote Polk in his diary, but “it has all been in vain.” “Loafers without merit” came, and equally meritorious Congressmen supported them. Not one in ten of the appointees was known to the President, and their degree of unfitness was precisely what might have been expected. A considerable number of them had actually been run out of the service—in some cases for bad conduct before the enemy—and many were found less teachable than privates.[25]

During February this beautiful exhibition continued, and such were the only immediate fruits of the much debated law, for it empowered no one to organize the new troops into brigades and divisions or to appoint general officers, and the military appropriations had not yet been made. Further Congressional exertions, therefore, had to be put forth; but at last on the second and third of March, after a loss of almost three months at this crisis of the war, the deficiencies were supplied, and enlistment shortly began. Vigorous efforts were made by the administration to set the new regulars in motion, company by company, and even squad by squad; and finally on the nineteenth of April, since little more could be expected from the November calls, requisitions for six and a half new regiments of volunteer infantry and twelve companies of horse—all to serve until the conclusion of peace—were issued.[25]

On the fourth of June, then, about six hundred new troops, commanded by Brevet Colonel McIntosh, left Vera Cruz for the interior, escorting a long train of loaded mules and wagons and two or three hundred thousand dollars in specie. Mexican irregulars, who knew the value of the convoy, soon attacked and stopped it. Cadwalader, then waiting for a part of his brigade, reinforced McIntosh on the eleventh with about five hundred men and took command. Fighting his way along he incorporated the garrison of Jalapa commanded by Colonel Childs, and on the twenty-first reached Perote.[27]

Meanwhile Pillow, now a major general by the grace of his former law partner, arriving at Vera Cruz and finding there some 2000 of his men, had advanced with most of them on June 18; and although Scott was in the most urgent need of money, Pillow ordered Cadwalader to await his arrival at Perote. Eventually, on July 3, the combined forces were in motion, and five days later all of them—including the recruits long since expected—passed the brown gate of Puebla. Of the rank and file Scott now had 8061 effectives and 2215 sick. Next Brigadier General Pierce with some 2500 men got away from the coast about the fifteenth of July,[26] and after similar fighting appeared at headquarters on the sixth of August with a heavy siege battery, a long train of wagons and $85,000 in unsalable drafts, but with none of the specie that had been expected and regarded as indispensable.[27]

THE AMERICAN ARMY

Scott now had about 14,000 men, some 2500 of whom lay, however, in the hospitals, while about six hundred were convalescents too feeble for an ordinary day’s march. The cavalry, led by Colonel Harney, included portions of the three dragoon regiments under Captain Kearny, Major Sumner and Major McReynolds. For artillery, besides the siege train, there were the field batteries of Duncan, Taylor, Steptoe and others,[28] and the howitzer and rocket battery of Talcott. Brevet Major General Worth’s division of infantry, known as the First, consisted of Brevet Colonel Garland’s brigade (Second and Third Artillery, Fourth Infantry and a light battalion) and the brigade of Colonel Clarke, which included the Fifth, Sixth and Eighth Infantry. The Second Division, commanded by Brigadier General Twiggs, was composed of the regiments under Brevet Brigadier General Persifor F. Smith (Mounted Riflemen, First Artillery and Third Infantry) and Brevet Colonel Riley (Fourth Artillery, Second and Seventh Infantry). Major General Pillow, higher in rank than the brave, able and experienced Worth, a professional soldier, had the Eleventh and Fourteenth Infantry and the Voltigeur regiment under Brigadier General Cadwalader, a polished veteran of Chestnut Street parades, Philadelphia, and the Ninth, Twelfth and Fifteenth Infantry under the gentlemanly Franklin Pierce, a social and political hero of Concord, New Hampshire; while General Shields’s brigade (New York and South Carolina volunteers) and Lieutenant Colonel Watson’s, consisting of three hundred marines and a detachment of the Second Pennsylvania, made up the division of Quitman, an excellent person and politician, who had now reached the highest military grade.[29]

The troops that had been waiting at Puebla were by this time in fine training; and the new men, besides receiving the soldier’s baptism on the way up, had learned at least the value of discipline and skill. The former had become to a large extent acclimated, and they felt an entire confidence in their commander, which, fully accredited by his victories, extended promptly to the reinforcements. The essential clothing had been purchased or manufactured. Thanks to indefatigable exertions a large stock of provisions had been accumulated, and at a cost of 15 per cent funds for the march to the capital had been raised. Although time had permitted the friendly sentiments and reasonable arguments of Scott’s proclamation to leaven the people, and association with the Americans had refuted the calumnies previously effective against them, our officers and men expected hard fighting. Thoughts of distant homes and of near perils were silvering many a fine head. There were no good laughers in the army now. But in an equal degree hearts were nerved. Mentally the cost of success, figured without discount, was already paid. All felt eager to advance. And when, anticipating Pierce’s arrival by one day, Scott gave the order, a soldier’s joy lighted up their bronzed features.[30]

XXV
ON TO THE CAPITAL
April-August, 1847

Almost immediately after Santa Anna left the seat of government for the Cerro Gordo campaign, more than twenty generals and several members of Congress were called together at the palace by Anaya to consider the defence of the capital.[1] Apparently the problem could be solved without much difficulty. Mexico lies in a rather shallow basin—said to be the crater of an ancient volcano—about thirty-two by forty-six miles in diameter. In the time of Cortez the site had consisted of islands barely rising above the water, but the spaces between these had gradually been filled, and the water had subsided. Six lakes could still be counted, however; almost everywhere else in the environs there were marshes traversed by elevated roads or causeways; and the rim of the basin, as well as the routes beyond it, seemed to offer advantageous points for defence.[2]

The sentiment of this council and of the city, though concealed under a cloak of bellicose ardor, opposed resisting the Americans in earnest, or at all events opposed inviting bombardment; and it was therefore decided merely to take precautions against a raid, fortify certain points on the roads, and bring out a host of irregulars to hang upon the rear and flanks of the enemy. All men capable of bearing arms were summoned to the colors. The states were called upon for aid. Hopes of borrowing twenty millions imparted a sunny look to the situation; and ecclesiastics, naturally passive in view of the agreement with Beach to let Scott have the city, were deliberately forced into the streets by the civil authorities to preach fanaticism and rouse the public from their apathy. Except perhaps by this last method, however, little was accomplished. “Let us unite, let us unite, and do you go and fight against the French,” some of the Spanish priests had said when their country was invaded by Napoleon. So things went now in Mexico, and every one assigned to himself the duty of exhorting. Fine ideas beamed forth, but everything of practical utility was conspicuously wanting. Still, as the American volunteers were considered “banditti, without the slightest knowledge of military tactics, without any sort of training, without confidence, and in general easily terrified,” no keen sense of alarm was felt.[2]

VALLEY OF MEXICO

POLITICAL CHAOS AT MEXICO

The disaster of Cerro Gordo cast new and fearful shadows upon the scene. That defeat, said Anaya, “simply means complete ruin for the whole republic,” and even his gratification that Santa Anna’s “interesting person” had not gone down in the wreck seemed rather of an iridescent kind. Military confidence, which had revived after earlier shocks, gave way entirely. The prestige derived by Santa Anna from his alleged success at Buena Vista was now torn to shreds by panting fugitives from the south. About a thousand pamphlets, for which no language was too savage or too true, poured light upon his character and achievements, and the military men as a class met with similar treatment.[3] To be sure, the government promised boldly to continue the war. April 20 Congress invested the Executive with autocratic powers, and prohibited all steps toward peace.[4] The Federal District, in which lay the capital, was placed under martial law. Urgent demands for troops were sent wherever soldiers could be supposed to lurk. Once more the authorities called upon every citizen of the proper age to take up arms. Quotas aggregating 32,000 men were formally assigned to the states. Light fortifications, intended to delay and perhaps block the Americans, were ordered to be thrown up along the route; and the heads of the Church issued an appeal for concord and morality.[5]

But all of these proceedings displayed more alarm than courage, more desperation than intelligence. Many of the defensive points were found valueless. Tools, funds, engineers and laborers fell short. The meagre donations for continuing hostilities evinced a total want of enthusiasm. The problem of obtaining enough troops, provisions and artillery to defend the town seemed more and more insoluble, and the danger not only of bombardment but of sack more and more terrible. Grandees got out their old travelling coaches, and even plain citizens began to emigrate. The government itself decided that against an army represented by American deserters as more than 16,000 strong, fully equipped, shortly to be reinforced, and soon to advance, the city could not possibly be held; and the favorite plan of the administration, the most promising that could be devised, was to buy up Scott’s Irish soldiers through the priest McNamara, recently conspicuous in California, and facilitate their desertion by having Santa Anna attack Puebla. Should this fail, submission and peace appear to have been deemed inevitable.[5]

With some exceptions rulers and people alike, wearied by decades of dissensions, oppression, scheming, robbery and illusory promises, discouraged by the passive opposition of the clergy and the wealthy classes, overwhelmed by a series of military disasters, convinced that incompetent and perhaps traitorous generals led the armies, and powerless to discern any happy omens for the country, felt neither hope nor spirit; and the kindness of the Americans, added to their invincibility, had now overcome even the instinct of race.[5]

To heighten the confusion, a state of governmental chaos reigned. Anaya had at most but little prestige or influence, and friends of Santa Anna, angry because excluded from office, created a friction between the two that weakened both. The ministers could not coöperate harmoniously. General Bravo was given command of all the troops in the Federal District and the state of México, and Santa Anna did not want him in that important position. Congress devoted itself, when not harassing the administration, to wrangling over a new constitution, substantially that of 1824, which finally was voted on the eighteenth of May. In conscious impotence the Puros writhed and snarled; and their enemies, the Moderados, after having triumphed and brought Santa Anna to their side, now boldly paraded their dislike of him, and, by showing no concern except about retaining their power, excited hostility and contempt. Common sense was no less wanting than patriotism; and when these two parties finally agreed to save the country, their plan was—to supplement the constitution with two more articles.[5]

Of all the discontent, resentments and ambitions the now despised Santa Anna became naturally the target. Almonte still plotted to be President. Arista and Ampudia, joined now in disgrace as formerly in misfortune, felt thoroughly dissatisfied. Gómez Farías could not forget his betrayal, and Olaguíbel, governor of the most important state, México, loyally supported him. Bravo reciprocated Santa Anna’s dislike. Valencia aspired to the chief military command. All in favor of ending the war—who now had an organ, El Razonador—considered Santa Anna a bar to peace and even to the faithful observance of a preliminary armistice; and some of them, arguing that his extraordinary powers were cancelled automatically by the adoption of a new organic law, advocated placing him in the interior somewhere, ostensibly to wait for new troops, and negotiating a treaty without his knowledge. The Puros were expected to explode a revolution against him about the twentieth of May, and for all sorts of personal or patriotic reasons a host of minor individuals made ready to coöperate with it.[5]

SANTA ANNA AT THE CAPITAL

But all these busy folks were only mice, reckoning without the cat. On leaving Puebla Santa Anna proceeded to San Martín, which lay on the direct road to Mexico where it began to ascend the rim of the Valley. Works had been erected near, but it was found they could easily be turned and not easily be provisioned; and a council of war decided to occupy the capital, since only there could large resources be counted upon. May 18, therefore, the wretched army of 3000 or 3500 men arrived at Ayotla, fifteen miles from their destination. Learning of this unexpected and undesired event, the hostile elements undertook to “pronounce” at once, but could not set the movement off. Three leading statesmen of the dominant party then hurried to meet the General, and after arguing all day persuaded him to write that Anaya might remain in office and even decide whether Mexico City should be defended, while he himself would retain his military command, or, if dissatisfied with Anaya’s decision, would resign.[6]

But presently cunning Tornel and one or two others convinced Santa Anna that a mere handful of enemies had spread this net in order to drag him from power, and eliminate his influence on the vital question of peace. Jealousy and fears inspired by the favor that Valencia and Bravo were apparently enjoying, added to the urgency of his officers, did the rest; and on the nineteenth, in spite of the understanding just agreed upon—indeed, only about an hour after his letter reached the palace—his troops entered the city. Anaya’s rather sour and curdled face flushed hot and bitter. He did not care to retain the Presidency, for he believed a revolution would soon break out; but forcible ejection, in disregard of a written promise, was another affair. He found himself powerless, however; and the next day, after inducing a council of generals to decide upon holding Mexico, Santa Anna announced that he would sacrifice his wishes, and resume the executive power.[6]

The state of things that ensued was indescribable. Nothing equal to it has been known perhaps, and nothing imagined save the witches’ caldron. One public man estimated the number of bubbling intrigues as twenty millions. Nothing is left us except vanity and dissension, but those we possess in the superlative degree, wrote Ramírez. Congress had no prestige, no power, no capacity; and its factions could see nothing except opportunities to stab one another. Santa Anna’s breach of faith intensified the distrust and hatred of the Moderados without gratifying the Puros. Hoping to win some popularity, he restored the freedom of the press, which had recently been curtailed; but his enemies merely took advantage of it. “The man of La Angostura, of Cerro Gordo, of Amozoc, weary of destroying Mexicans on the field of battle, comes home tranquilly to find repose in the Presidential chair,” exclaimed Almonte’s organ.[6]

A plausible and eloquent manifesto put out over Santa Anna’s name dropped cold on the pavement. No basis of popular or political strength for even a temporary footing could be discovered by his counsellors. Santa Anna himself felt staggered by the opposition. His only chance was to place the nation between the devil and the deep sea—between bayonets and chaos—hoping it would again call upon him to save it; and so on the twenty-eighth, declaring that schemers and revolutionists, who found him in their way, paralyzed his efforts to serve the country, he made another sacrifice, and resigned the Presidency.[6]

Unhappily for him it soon appeared likely that Congress would accept the sacrifice, while on the other hand certain aspects of his outlook brightened. Busy Tornel induced a fraction of the Puros, who realized their helplessness, to adopt his cause. Valencia, though much to Santa Anna’s repugnance, had been given for his present portion the chief command at San Luis Potosí, and so disappeared from the capital. Almonte found himself in prison under a charge of conspiracy. Arista and Ampudia were banished from the vicinity. Bravo retired from his command. At the same time promotions fell copiously on devotees; and the happy recipients knew these might well cease to be valid, should their patron fall. Almonte was said to have received a majority of the votes for President, while Santa Anna had been supported by only Chihuahua; but so much territory lay in American hands that a question about the legality of the election arose, and Congress deferred the matter. On the second of June, therefore, the arch-prestidigitator laid himself once more upon the altar, and in order to save the country from Scott and anarchy withdrew his resignation.[6]

“Mexicans, I shall be with you always—to the consummation of your ruin,” so the Monitor Republicano paraphrased his announcement; and then it added: “What a life of sacrifice is the General’s; a sacrifice to take the power, to resign, to resume; ultimate sacrifice; ultimate final; ultimate more final; ultimate most final; ultimate the very finalest. But let him cheer up. He is not alone in making sacrifices. For twenty-five years the Mexican people have been sacrificing themselves, all of them, in the hope that certain persons would do good to the country.” But in spite of sarcasm and ridicule Santa Anna had triumphed. Hated by many, disliked by most, distrusted by nearly all, yet forging ahead because he was on the ground with troops, because his combination of good luck, audacity and cunning could not be matched, because the Moderado government had proved incompetent, because a régime of dissension and anarchy could organize no solid opposition against him, and because a group of selfish interests found in him a sharp, tough bit of steel to fix at the head of their spear, he triumphed once more.[6]

SANTA ANNA STILL SUPREME

The victory threatened, however, to be fatal. In every direction lurked pitfalls charged with gunpowder. In all the history of Mexico dissensions had never been more bitter, nor political and social chaos nearer. Congress annoyed him until at length, by failing week after week to form a quorum lest one faction or another should score an advantage, it fell into abeyance and left him virtually a dictator.[7] In the hope of obtaining funds from the Church, he gave deeper offence than ever to the most prominent of the Moderados; but the prelates, in alliance with leading monarchists, continued to plot against him. Newspapers waged a bitter campaign until choked with an iron hand. His persecution of the generals excited fierce resentment. A Puro chief, entering the Cabinet and getting a glimpse of his ulterior aims, resigned in six days.[8]

In short the administration had no political creed, and could find no political support; and the assistance of that indispensable villain, Tornel, who could be seen stealing to the palace at the hour when the night-hawk begins to fly, covered it with discredit. Executive authorities waged almost civil war upon one another. Rumors, not without some basis, that a formal dictatorship was in view, could not be stilled; and the general want of confidence in the President’s character and aims rendered the most skilful appeals to patriotism vain. Only by the utmost exertions could the fragile edifice of government be kept balanced on the point of the bayonet.[8]

Nor was the opposition against Santa Anna confined to his immediate vicinity. The people of Mexico City had always despised the outlying states; and not only was this disdain repaid, but the capital, source of so many political and financial ills experienced by the rest of the country, was looked upon by a great number of thoughtful men as hopelessly corrupt—as a diseased part that required amputation. When restoring the old federal system in August, 1846, in order to satisfy his democratic allies and win popularity, Santa Anna apparently did not foresee, as Consul Black did, that after realizing their power and getting into touch with one another, the states would take a firm position upon their prerogatives. In addition to such difficulties, it was commonly felt that military men and the army stood mortally opposed to democracy and federal institutions, that success in the field might enable Santa Anna to overthrow this principle and these institutions, and that a loud cry for patriotism and war, combined with a systematic withholding of men and supplies, would compel him to fight and ensure his ruin.[8]

By evasions, therefore, or in some cases positive refusals to obey the commands of the general government, substantially all the states withheld support, frequently alleging that under the régime of the new constitution its extraordinary powers, conferred by the law of April 20, did not exist, and that all National Guards, as well as all revenues assigned to the states in September, 1846, were independent of the national authorities. In this opposition Zacatecas naturally played a leading part, but perhaps Olaguíbel, an impressive, honest and able man, who had travelled in the United States and Europe and had filled his library with busts of the leading American statesmen, was its foremost representative; and the firm support of his constituents, who felt intensely jealous of Santa Anna, as well as the coöperation of Gómez Farías, rendered him a formidable person. Balked thus by constitutional theories that not only flattered local interests and pride but were noticeably economical, Santa Anna could obtain—aside from the troops brought by General Juan Alvarez and a few others—very little assistance outside of the Federal District.[8]

That was hard enough, but still greater difficulties lay behind it. In the far northwest Sonora, Sinaloa and Durango entertained the idea of uniting as a new republic, and six of the central states were banded together in a Coalition. This extra-legal, if not illegal, organization had been called into existence in January, 1847, by the pronunciamiento of the Mazatlán garrison, which aimed at making Santa Anna dictator. By the end of May it was in good shape, and had a plan for troops of its own. Two weeks later the delegates, who made Lagos their place of meeting, called themselves an Assembly, and were buying arms; and by the fourth of July they felt bold enough to declare null a decree of Santa Anna. Of course the ostensible purpose was to protect independence, nationality and federal institutions; but, as the correspondence of the state governors reveals, the real aims included the establishment of a “new pact of alliance,” a new confederation, in which Santa Anna and that Babylon, the city of Mexico, should have no part. With this Coalition a large number of the Puros naturally sympathized.[8]