



Produced by David Widger




PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF U. S. GRANT, Part 1.

by U. S. Grant




PREFACE.

"Man proposes and God disposes."  There are but few important events in
the affairs of men brought about by their own choice.

Although frequently urged by friends to write my memoirs I had
determined never to do so, nor to write anything for publication.  At
the age of nearly sixty-two I received an injury from a fall, which
confined me closely to the house while it did not apparently affect my
general health. This made study a pleasant pastime.  Shortly after, the
rascality of a business partner developed itself by the announcement of
a failure.  This was followed soon after by universal depression of all
securities, which seemed to threaten the extinction of a good part of
the income still retained, and for which I am indebted to the kindly act
of friends.  At this juncture the editor of the Century Magazine asked
me to write a few articles for him. I consented for the money it gave
me; for at that moment I was living upon borrowed money.  The work I
found congenial, and I determined to continue it.  The event is an
important one for me, for good or evil; I hope for the former.

In preparing these volumes for the public, I have entered upon the task
with the sincere desire to avoid doing injustice to any one, whether on
the National or Confederate side, other than the unavoidable injustice
of not making mention often where special mention is due.  There must be
many errors of omission in this work, because the subject is too large
to be treated of in two volumes in such way as to do justice to all the
officers and men engaged.  There were thousands of instances, during the
rebellion, of individual, company, regimental and brigade deeds of
heroism which deserve special mention and are not here alluded to.  The
troops engaged in them will have to look to the detailed reports of
their individual commanders for the full history of those deeds.

The first volume, as well as a portion of the second, was written before
I had reason to suppose I was in a critical condition of health.  Later
I was reduced almost to the point of death, and it became impossible for
me to attend to anything for weeks.  I have, however, somewhat regained
my strength, and am able, often, to devote as many hours a day as a
person should devote to such work.  I would have more hope of satisfying
the expectation of the public if I could have allowed myself more time.
I have used my best efforts, with the aid of my eldest son, F. D. Grant,
assisted by his brothers, to verify from the records every statement of
fact given.  The comments are my own, and show how I saw the matters
treated of whether others saw them in the same light or not.

With these remarks I present these volumes to the public, asking no
favor but hoping they will meet the approval of the reader.

U. S.  GRANT.

MOUNT MACGREGOR, NEW YORK, July 1, 1885.


CONTENTS

VOLUME I.

CHAPTER I. ANCESTRY--BIRTH--BOYHOOD.

CHAPTER II. WEST POINT--GRADUATION.

CHAPTER III. ARMY LIFE--CAUSES OF THE MEXICAN WAR--CAMP SALUBRITY.

CHAPTER IV. CORPUS CHRISTI--MEXICAN SMUGGLING--SPANISH RULE IN MEXICO
--SUPPLYING TRANSPORTATION.

CHAPTER V. TRIP TO AUSTIN--PROMOTION TO FULL SECOND-LIEUTENANT--ARMY OF
OCCUPATION.

CHAPTER VI. ADVANCE OF THE ARMY--CROSSING THE COLORADO--THE RIO GRANDE.

CHAPTER VII. THE MEXICAN WAR--THE BATTLE OF PALO ALTO--THE BATTLE OF
RESACA DE LA PALMA--ARMY OF INVASION--GENERAL TAYLOR--MOVEMENT ON
CAMARGO.

CHAPTER VIII. ADVANCE ON MONTEREY--THE BLACK FORT--THE BATTLE OF
MONTEREY--SURRENDER OF THE CITY.

CHAPTER IX. POLITICAL INTRIGUE--BUENA VISTA--MOVEMENT AGAINST VERA CRUZ
--SIEGE AND CAPTURE OF VERA CRUZ.

CHAPTER X. MARCH TO JALAPA--BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO--PEROTE--PUEBLA--SCOTT
AND TAYLOR.

CHAPTER XI. ADVANCE ON THE CITY OF MEXICO--BATTLE OF CONTRERAS--ASSAULT
AT CHURUBUSCO--NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE--BATTLE OF MOLINO DEL REY
--STORMING OF CHAPULTEPEC--SAN COSME--EVACUATION OF THE CITY--HALLS OF
THE MONTEZUMAS.

CHAPTER XII. PROMOTION TO FIRST LIEUTENANT--CAPTURE OF THE CITY OF
MEXICO--THE ARMY--MEXICAN SOLDIERS--PEACE NEGOTIATIONS.

CHAPTER XIII. TREATY OF PEACE--MEXICAN BULL FIGHTS--REGIMENTAL
QUARTERMASTER--TRIP TO POPOCATAPETL--TRIP TO THE CAVES OF MEXICO.

CHAPTER XIV. RETURN OF THE ARMY--MARRIAGE--ORDERED TO THE PACIFIC COAST
--CROSSING THE ISTHMUS--ARRIVAL AT SAN FRANCISCO.

CHAPTER XV. SAN FRANCISCO--EARLY CALIFORNIA EXPERIENCES--LIFE ON THE
PACIFIC COAST--PROMOTED CAPTAIN--FLUSH TIMES IN CALIFORNIA.

CHAPTER XVI. RESIGNATION--PRIVATE LIFE--LIFE AT GALENA--THE COMING
CRISIS.

CHAPTER XVII. OUTBREAK OF THE REBELLION--PRESIDING AT A UNION MEETING
--MUSTERING OFFICER OF STATE TROOPS--LYON AT CAMP JACKSON--SERVICES
TENDERED TO THE GOVERNMENT.

CHAPTER XVIII. APPOINTED COLONEL OF THE 21ST ILLINOIS--PERSONNEL OF THE
REGIMENT--GENERAL LOGAN--MARCH TO MISSOURI--MOVEMENT AGAINST HARRIS AT
FLORIDA, MO.--GENERAL POPE IN COMMAND--STATIONED AT MEXICO, MO.

CHAPTER XIX. COMMISSIONED BRIGADIER-GENERAL--COMMAND AT IRONTON, MO.
--JEFFERSON CITY--CAPE GIRARDEAU--GENERAL PRENTISS--SEIZURE OF PADUCAH
--HEADQUARTERS AT CAIRO.

CHAPTER XX. GENERAL FREMONT IN COMMAND--MOVEMENT AGAINST BELMONT--BATTLE
OF BELMONT--A NARROW ESCAPE--AFTER THE BATTLE.

CHAPTER XXI. GENERAL HALLECK IN COMMAND--COMMANDING THE DISTRICT OF
CAIRO--MOVEMENT ON FORT HENRY--CAPTURE OF FORT HENRY.

CHAPTER XXII. INVESTMENT OF FORT DONELSON--THE NAVAL OPERATIONS--ATTACK
OF THE ENEMY--ASSAULTING THE WORKS--SURRENDER OF THE FORT.

CHAPTER XXIII. PROMOTED MAJOR-GENERAL OF VOLUNTEERS--UNOCCUPIED
TERRITORY--ADVANCE UPON NASHVILLE--SITUATION OF THE TROOPS--CONFEDERATE
RETREAT--RELIEVED OF THE COMMAND--RESTORED TO THE COMMAND--GENERAL
SMITH.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE ARMY AT PITTSBURG LANDING--INJURED BY A FALL--THE
CONFEDERATE ATTACK AT SHILOH--THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT SHILOH--GENERAL
SHERMAN--CONDITION OF THE ARMY--CLOSE OF THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT--THE
SECOND DAY'S FIGHT--RETREAT AND DEFEAT OF THE CONFEDERATES.

CHAPTER XXV. STRUCK BY A BULLET--PRECIPITATE RETREAT OF THE
CONFEDERATES--INTRENCHMENTS AT SHILOH--GENERAL BUELL--GENERAL JOHNSTON
--REMARKS ON SHILOH.

CHAPTER XXVI. HALLECK ASSUMES COMMAND IN THE FIELD--THE ADVANCE UPON
CORINTH--OCCUPATION OF CORINTH--THE ARMY SEPARATED.

CHAPTER XXVII. HEADQUARTERS MOVED TO MEMPHIS--ON THE ROAD TO MEMPHIS
--ESCAPING JACKSON--COMPLAINTS AND REQUESTS--HALLECK APPOINTED
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF--RETURN TO CORINTH--MOVEMENTS OF BRAGG--SURRENDER
OF CLARKSVILLE--THE ADVANCE UPON CHATTANOOGA--SHERIDAN COLONEL OF A
MICHIGAN REGIMENT.

CHAPTER XXVIII. ADVANCE OF VAN DORN AND PRICE--PRICE ENTERS IUKA--BATTLE
OF IUKA.

CHAPTER XXIX. VAN DORN'S MOVEMENTS--BATTLE OF CORINTH--COMMAND OF THE
DEPARTMENT OF THE TENNESSEE.

CHAPTER XXX. THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG--EMPLOYING THE FREEDMEN
--OCCUPATION OF HOLLY SPRINGS--SHERMAN ORDERED TO MEMPHIS--SHERMAN'S
MOVEMENTS DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI--VAN DORN CAPTURES HOLLY SPRINGS
--COLLECTING FORAGE AND FOOD.

CHAPTER XXXI. HEADQUARTERS MOVED TO HOLLY SPRINGS--GENERAL MCCLERNAND IN
COMMAND--ASSUMING COMMAND AT YOUNG'S POINT--OPERATIONS ABOVE VICKSBURG
--FORTIFICATIONS ABOUT VICKSBURG--THE CANAL--LAKE PROVIDENCE--OPERATIONS
AT YAZOO PASS.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE BAYOUS WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI--CRITICISMS OF THE
NORTHERN PRESS--RUNNING THE BATTERIES--LOSS OF THE INDIANOLA
--DISPOSITION OF THE TROOPS.

CHAPTER XXXIII. ATTACK ON GRAND GULF--OPERATIONS BELOW VICKSBURG.

CHAPTER XXXIV. CAPTURE OF PORT GIBSON--GRIERSON'S RAID--OCCUPATION OF
GRAND GULF--MOVEMENT UP THE BIG BLACK--BATTLE OF RAYMOND.

CHAPTER XXXV. MOVEMENT AGAINST JACKSON--FALL OF JACKSON--INTERCEPTING
THE ENEMY--BATTLE OF CHAMPION'S HILL.

CHAPTER XXXVI. BATTLE OF BLACK RIVER BRIDGE--CROSSING THE BIG BLACK
--INVESTMENT OF VICKSBURG--ASSAULTING THE WORKS.

CHAPTER XXXVII. SIEGE OF VICKSBURG.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. JOHNSTON'S MOVEMENTS--FORTIFICATIONS AT HAINES'S BLUFF
--EXPLOSION OF THE MINE--EXPLOSION OF THE SECOND MINE--PREPARING FOR THE
ASSAULT--THE FLAG OF TRUCE--MEETING WITH PEMBERTON--NEGOTIATIONS FOR
SURRENDER--ACCEPTING THE TERMS--SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG.

CHAPTER XXXIX. RETROSPECT OF THE CAMPAIGN--SHERMAN'S MOVEMENTS--PROPOSED
MOVEMENT UPON MOBILE--A PAINFUL ACCIDENT--ORDERED TO REPORT AT CAIRO.



Volume one begins:




CHAPTER I.

ANCESTRY--BIRTH--BOYHOOD.

My family is American, and has been for generations, in all its
branches, direct and collateral.

Mathew Grant, the founder of the branch in America, of which I am a
descendant, reached Dorchester, Massachusetts, in May, 1630.  In 1635 he
moved to what is now Windsor, Connecticut, and was the surveyor for that
colony for more than forty years.  He was also, for many years of the
time, town clerk.  He was a married man when he arrived at Dorchester,
but his children were all born in this country.  His eldest son, Samuel,
took lands on the east side of the Connecticut River, opposite Windsor,
which have been held and occupied by descendants of his to this day.

I am of the eighth generation from Mathew Grant, and seventh from
Samuel.  Mathew Grant's first wife died a few years after their
settlement in Windsor, and he soon after married the widow Rockwell,
who, with her first husband, had been fellow-passengers with him and his
first wife, on the ship Mary and John, from Dorchester, England, in
1630.  Mrs. Rockwell had several children by her first marriage, and
others by her second.  By intermarriage, two or three generations later,
I am descended from both the wives of Mathew Grant.

In the fifth descending generation my great grandfather, Noah Grant, and
his younger brother, Solomon, held commissions in the English army, in
1756, in the war against the French and Indians.  Both were killed that
year.

My grandfather, also named Noah, was then but nine years old. At the
breaking out of the war of the Revolution, after the battles of Concord
and Lexington, he went with a Connecticut company to join the
Continental army, and was present at the battle of Bunker Hill.  He
served until the fall of Yorktown, or through the entire Revolutionary
war.  He must, however, have been on furlough part of the time--as I
believe most of the soldiers of that period were--for he married in
Connecticut during the war, had two children, and was a widower at the
close.  Soon after this he emigrated to Westmoreland County,
Pennsylvania, and settled near the town of Greensburg in that county.
He took with him the younger of his two children, Peter Grant.  The
elder, Solomon, remained with his relatives in Connecticut until old
enough to do for himself, when he emigrated to the British West Indies.

Not long after his settlement in Pennsylvania, my grandfather, Captain
Noah Grant, married a Miss Kelly, and in 1799 he emigrated again, this
time to Ohio, and settled where the town of Deerfield now stands.  He
had now five children, including Peter, a son by his first marriage.  My
father, Jesse R. Grant, was the second child--oldest son, by the second
marriage.

Peter Grant went early to Maysville, Kentucky, where he was very
prosperous, married, had a family of nine children, and was drowned at
the mouth of the Kanawha River, Virginia, in 1825, being at the time one
of the wealthy men of the West.

My grandmother Grant died in 1805, leaving seven children.  This broke
up the family.  Captain Noah Grant was not thrifty in the way of "laying
up stores on earth," and, after the death of his second wife, he went,
with the two youngest children, to live with his son Peter, in
Maysville.  The rest of the family found homes in the neighborhood of
Deerfield, my father in the family of judge Tod, the father of the late
Governor Tod, of Ohio.  His industry and independence of character were
such, that I imagine his labor compensated fully for the expense of his
maintenance.

There must have been a cordiality in his welcome into the Tod family,
for to the day of his death he looked upon judge Tod and his wife, with
all the reverence he could have felt if they had been parents instead of
benefactors.  I have often heard him speak of Mrs. Tod as the most
admirable woman he had ever known.  He remained with the Tod family only
a few years, until old enough to learn a trade.  He went first, I
believe, with his half-brother, Peter Grant, who, though not a tanner
himself, owned a tannery in Maysville, Kentucky.  Here he learned his
trade, and in a few years returned to Deerfield and worked for, and
lived in the family of a Mr. Brown, the father of John Brown--"whose
body lies mouldering in the grave, while his soul goes marching on."  I
have often heard my father speak of John Brown, particularly since the
events at Harper's Ferry.  Brown was a boy when they lived in the same
house, but he knew him afterwards, and regarded him as a man of great
purity of character, of high moral and physical courage, but a fanatic
and extremist in whatever he advocated.  It was certainly the act of an
insane man to attempt the invasion of the South, and the overthrow of
slavery, with less than twenty men.

My father set up for himself in business, establishing a tannery at
Ravenna, the county seat of Portage County.  In a few years he removed
from Ravenna, and set up the same business at Point Pleasant, Clermont
County, Ohio.

During the minority of my father, the West afforded but poor facilities
for the most opulent of the youth to acquire an education, and the
majority were dependent, almost exclusively, upon their own exertions
for whatever learning they obtained.  I have often heard him say that
his time at school was limited to six months, when he was very young,
too young, indeed, to learn much, or to appreciate the advantages of an
education, and to a "quarter's schooling" afterwards, probably while
living with judge Tod.  But his thirst for education was intense.  He
learned rapidly, and was a constant reader up to the day of his death in
his eightieth year.  Books were scarce in the Western Reserve during his
youth, but he read every book he could borrow in the neighborhood where
he lived.  This scarcity gave him the early habit of studying everything
he read, so that when he got through with a book, he knew everything in
it.  The habit continued through life.  Even after reading the daily
papers--which he never neglected--he could give all the important
information they contained.  He made himself an excellent English
scholar, and before he was twenty years of age was a constant
contributor to Western newspapers, and was also, from that time until he
was fifty years old, an able debater in the societies for this purpose,
which were common in the West at that time.  He always took an active
part in politics, but was never a candidate for office, except, I
believe, that he was the first Mayor of Georgetown.  He supported
Jackson for the Presidency; but he was a Whig, a great admirer of Henry
Clay, and never voted for any other democrat for high office after
Jackson.

My mother's family lived in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, for several
generations.  I have little information about her ancestors.  Her family
took no interest in genealogy, so that my grandfather, who died when I
was sixteen years old, knew only back to his grandfather.  On the other
side, my father took a great interest in the subject, and in his
researches, he found that there was an entailed estate in Windsor,
Connecticut, belonging to the family, to which his nephew, Lawson Grant
--still living--was the heir.  He was so much interested in the subject
that he got his nephew to empower him to act in the matter, and in 1832
or 1833, when I was a boy ten or eleven years old, he went to Windsor,
proved the title beyond dispute, and perfected the claim of the owners
for a consideration--three thousand dollars, I think.  I remember the
circumstance well, and remember, too, hearing him say on his return that
he found some widows living on the property, who had little or nothing
beyond their homes.  From these he refused to receive any recompense.

My mother's father, John Simpson, moved from Montgomery County,
Pennsylvania, to Clermont County, Ohio, about the year 1819, taking with
him his four children, three daughters and one son.  My mother, Hannah
Simpson, was the third of these children, and was then over twenty years
of age.  Her oldest sister was at that time married, and had several
children.  She still lives in Clermont County at this writing, October
5th, 1884, and is over ninety ears of age.  Until her memory failed her,
a few years ago, she thought the country ruined beyond recovery when the
Democratic party lost control in 1860.  Her family, which was large,
inherited her views, with the exception of one son who settled in
Kentucky before the war.  He was the only one of the children who
entered the volunteer service to suppress the rebellion.

Her brother, next of age and now past eighty-eight, is also still living
in Clermont County, within a few miles of the old homestead, and is as
active in mind as ever.  He was a supporter of the Government during the
war, and remains a firm believer, that national success by the
Democratic party means irretrievable ruin.

In June, 1821, my father, Jesse R. Grant, married Hannah Simpson.  I was
born on the 27th of April, 1822, at Point Pleasant, Clermont County,
Ohio.  In the fall of 1823 we moved to Georgetown, the county seat of
Brown, the adjoining county east.  This place remained my home, until at
the age of seventeen, in 1839, I went to West Point.

The schools, at the time of which I write, were very indifferent.  There
were no free schools, and none in which the scholars were classified.
They were all supported by subscription, and a single teacher--who was
often a man or a woman incapable of teaching much, even if they imparted
all they knew--would have thirty or forty scholars, male and female,
from the infant learning the A B C's up to the young lady of eighteen
and the boy of twenty, studying the highest branches taught--the three
R's, "Reading, 'Riting, 'Rithmetic."  I never saw an algebra, or other
mathematical work higher than the arithmetic, in Georgetown, until after
I was appointed to West Point.  I then bought a work on algebra in
Cincinnati; but having no teacher it was Greek to me.

My life in Georgetown was uneventful.  From the age of five or six until
seventeen, I attended the subscription schools of the village, except
during the winters of 1836-7 and 1838-9.  The former period was spent in
Maysville, Kentucky, attending the school of Richardson and Rand; the
latter in Ripley, Ohio, at a private school.  I was not studious in
habit, and probably did not make progress enough to compensate for the
outlay for board and tuition.  At all events both winters were spent in
going over the same old arithmetic which I knew every word of before,
and repeating:  "A noun is the name of a thing," which I had also heard
my Georgetown teachers repeat, until I had come to believe it--but I
cast no reflections upon my old teacher, Richardson. He turned out
bright scholars from his school, many of whom have filled conspicuous
places in the service of their States.  Two of my contemporaries there
--who, I believe, never attended any other institution of learning--have
held seats in Congress, and one, if not both, other high offices; these
are Wadsworth and Brewster.

My father was, from my earliest recollection, in comfortable
circumstances, considering the times, his place of residence, and the
community in which he lived.  Mindful of his own lack of facilities for
acquiring an education, his greatest desire in maturer years was for the
education of his children. Consequently, as stated before, I never
missed a quarter from school from the time I was old enough to attend
till the time of leaving home.  This did not exempt me from labor.  In
my early days, every one labored more or less, in the region where my
youth was spent, and more in proportion to their private means.  It was
only the very poor who were exempt.  While my father carried on the
manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself, he owned and
tilled considerable land.  I detested the trade, preferring almost any
other labor; but I was fond of agriculture, and of all employment in
which horses were used.  We had, among other lands, fifty acres of
forest within a mile of the village.  In the fall of the year choppers
were employed to cut enough wood to last a twelve-month.  When I was
seven or eight years of age, I began hauling all the wood used in the
house and shops.  I could not load it on the wagons, of course, at that
time, but I could drive, and the choppers would load, and some one at
the house unload.  When about eleven years old, I was strong enough to
hold a plough.  From that age until seventeen I did all the work done
with horses, such as breaking up the land, furrowing, ploughing corn and
potatoes, bringing in the crops when harvested, hauling all the wood,
besides tending two or three horses, a cow or two, and sawing wood for
stoves, etc., while still attending school.  For this I was compensated
by the fact that there was never any scolding or punishing by my
parents; no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fishing, going to
the creek a mile away to swim in summer, taking a horse and visiting my
grandparents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles off, skating on the
ice in winter, or taking a horse and sleigh when there was snow on the
ground.

While still quite young I had visited Cincinnati, forty-five miles away,
several times, alone; also Maysville, Kentucky, often, and once
Louisville.  The journey to Louisville was a big one for a boy of that
day.  I had also gone once with a two-horse carriage to Chilicothe,
about seventy miles, with a neighbor's family, who were removing to
Toledo, Ohio, and returned alone; and had gone once, in like manner, to
Flat Rock, Kentucky, about seventy miles away.  On this latter occasion
I was fifteen years of age.  While at Flat Rock, at the house of a Mr.
Payne, whom I was visiting with his brother, a neighbor of ours in
Georgetown, I saw a very fine saddle horse, which I rather coveted, and
proposed to Mr. Payne, the owner, to trade him for one of the two I was
driving.  Payne hesitated to trade with a boy, but asking his brother
about it, the latter told him that it would be all right, that I was
allowed to do as I pleased with the horses.  I was seventy miles from
home, with a carriage to take back, and Mr. Payne said he did not know
that his horse had ever had a collar on.  I asked to have him hitched to
a farm wagon and we would soon see whether he would work.  It was soon
evident that the horse had never worn harness before; but he showed no
viciousness, and I expressed a confidence that I could manage him.  A
trade was at once struck, I receiving ten dollars difference.

The next day Mr. Payne, of Georgetown, and I started on our return.  We
got along very well for a few miles, when we encountered a ferocious dog
that frightened the horses and made them run.  The new animal kicked at
every jump he made.  I got the horses stopped, however, before any
damage was done, and without running into anything.  After giving them a
little rest, to quiet their fears, we started again.  That instant the
new horse kicked, and started to run once more.  The road we were on,
struck the turnpike within half a mile of the point where the second
runaway commenced, and there there was an embankment twenty or more feet
deep on the opposite side of the pike.  I got the horses stopped on the
very brink of the precipice.  My new horse was terribly frightened and
trembled like an aspen; but he was not half so badly frightened as my
companion, Mr. Payne, who deserted me after this last experience, and
took passage on a freight wagon for Maysville.  Every time I attempted
to start, my new horse would commence to kick.  I was in quite a dilemma
for a time.  Once in Maysville I could borrow a horse from an uncle who
lived there; but I was more than a day's travel from that point.
Finally I took out my bandanna--the style of handkerchief in universal
use then--and with this blindfolded my horse.  In this way I reached
Maysville safely the next day, no doubt much to the surprise of my
friend.  Here I borrowed a horse from my uncle, and the following day we
proceeded on our journey.

About half my school-days in Georgetown were spent at the school of John
D. White, a North Carolinian, and the father of Chilton White who
represented the district in Congress for one term during the rebellion.
Mr. White was always a Democrat in politics, and Chilton followed his
father.  He had two older brothers--all three being school-mates of mine
at their father's school--who did not go the same way.  The second
brother died before the rebellion began; he was a Whig, and afterwards a
Republican.  His oldest brother was a Republican and brave soldier
during the rebellion.  Chilton is reported as having told of an earlier
horse-trade of mine.  As he told the story, there was a Mr. Ralston
living within a few miles of the village, who owned a colt which I very
much wanted.  My father had offered twenty dollars for it, but Ralston
wanted twenty-five.  I was so anxious to have the colt, that after the
owner left, I begged to be allowed to take him at the price demanded.
My father yielded, but said twenty dollars was all the horse was worth,
and told me to offer that price; if it was not accepted I was to offer
twenty-two and a half, and if that would not get him, to give the
twenty-five.  I at once mounted a horse and went for the colt.  When I
got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him:  "Papa says I may offer you
twenty dollars for the colt, but if you won't take that, I am to offer
twenty-two and a half, and if you won't take that, to give you
twenty-five."  It would not require a Connecticut man to guess the price
finally agreed upon.  This story is nearly true.  I certainly showed
very plainly that I had come for the colt and meant to have him.  I
could not have been over eight years old at the time.  This transaction
caused me great heart-burning. The story got out among the boys of the
village, and it was a long time before I heard the last of it.  Boys
enjoy the misery of their companions, at least village boys in that day
did, and in later life I have found that all adults are not free from
the peculiarity.  I kept the horse until he was four years old, when he
went blind, and I sold him for twenty dollars.  When I went to Maysville
to school, in 1836, at the age of fourteen, I recognized my colt as one
of the blind horses working on the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat.

I have describes enough of my early life to give an impression of the
whole.  I did not like to work; but I did as much of it, while young, as
grown men can be hired to do in these days, and attended school at the
same time.  I had as many privileges as any boy in the village, and
probably more than most of them.  I have no recollection of ever having
been punished at home, either by scolding or by the rod.  But at school
the case was different.  The rod was freely used there, and I was not
exempt from its influence.  I can see John D. White--the school teacher
--now, with his long beech switch always in his hand.  It was not always
the same one, either.  Switches were brought in bundles, from a beech
wood near the school house, by the boys for whose benefit they were
intended.  Often a whole bundle would be used up in a single day.  I
never had any hard feelings against my teacher, either while attending
the school, or in later years when reflecting upon my experience.  Mr.
White was a kindhearted man, and was much respected by the community in
which he lived.  He only followed the universal custom of the period,
and that under which he had received his own education.



CHAPTER II.

WEST POINT--GRADUATION.

In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only ten miles
distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holidays at home.
During this vacation my father received a letter from the Honorable
Thomas Morris, then United States Senator from Ohio.  When he read it he
said to me, "Ulysses, I believe you are going to receive the
appointment."  "What appointment?"  I inquired.  "To West Point; I have
applied for it."  "But I won't go," I said.  He said he thought I would,
AND I THOUGHT SO TOO, IF HE DID.  I really had no objection to going to
West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the acquirements
necessary to get through.  I did not believe I possessed them, and could
not bear the idea of failing.  There had been four boys from our
village, or its immediate neighborhood, who had been graduated from West
Point, and never a failure of any one appointed from Georgetown, except
in the case of the one whose place I was to take.  He was the son of Dr.
Bailey, our nearest and most intimate neighbor.  Young Bailey had been
appointed in 1837.  Finding before the January examination following,
that he could not pass, he resigned and went to a private school, and
remained there until the following year, when he was reappointed.
Before the next examination he was dismissed.  Dr. Bailey was a proud
and sensitive man, and felt the failure of his son so keenly that he
forbade his return home.  There were no telegraphs in those days to
disseminate news rapidly, no railroads west of the Alleghanies, and but
few east; and above all, there were no reporters prying into other
people's private affairs.  Consequently it did not become generally
known that there was a vacancy at West Point from our district until I
was appointed.  I presume Mrs. Bailey confided to my mother the fact
that Bartlett had been dismissed, and that the doctor had forbidden his
son's return home.

The Honorable Thomas L. Hamer, one of the ablest men Ohio ever produced,
was our member of Congress at the time, and had the right of nomination.
He and my father had been members of the same debating society (where
they were generally pitted on opposite sides), and intimate personal
friends from their early manhood up to a few years before.  In politics
they differed. Hamer was a life-long Democrat, while my father was a
Whig. They had a warm discussion, which finally became angry--over some
act of President Jackson, the removal of the deposit of public moneys, I
think--after which they never spoke until after my appointment.  I know
both of them felt badly over this estrangement, and would have been glad
at any time to come to a reconciliation; but neither would make the
advance.  Under these circumstances my father would not write to Hamer
for the appointment, but he wrote to Thomas Morris, United States
Senator from Ohio, informing him that there was a vacancy at West Point
from our district, and that he would be glad if I could be appointed to
fill it.  This letter, I presume, was turned over to Mr. Hamer, and, as
there was no other applicant, he cheerfully appointed me.  This healed
the breach between the two, never after reopened.

Besides the argument used by my father in favor of my going to West
Point--that "he thought I would go"--there was another very strong
inducement.  I had always a great desire to travel.  I was already the
best travelled boy in Georgetown, except the sons of one man, John
Walker, who had emigrated to Texas with his family, and immigrated back
as soon as he could get the means to do so.  In his short stay in Texas
he acquired a very different opinion of the country from what one would
form going there now.

I had been east to Wheeling, Virginia, and north to the Western Reserve,
in Ohio, west to Louisville, and south to Bourbon County, Kentucky,
besides having driven or ridden pretty much over the whole country
within fifty miles of home.  Going to West Point would give me the
opportunity of visiting the two great cities of the continent,
Philadelphia and New York.  This was enough.  When these places were
visited I would have been glad to have had a steamboat or railroad
collision, or any other accident happen, by which I might have received
a temporary injury sufficient to make me ineligible, for a time, to
enter the Academy.  Nothing of the kind occurred, and I had to face the
music.

Georgetown has a remarkable record for a western village.  It is, and
has been from its earliest existence, a democratic town.  There was
probably no time during the rebellion when, if the opportunity could
have been afforded, it would not have voted for Jefferson Davis for
President of the United States, over Mr. Lincoln, or any other
representative of his party; unless it was immediately after some of
John Morgan's men, in his celebrated raid through Ohio, spent a few
hours in the village.  The rebels helped themselves to whatever they
could find, horses, boots and shoes, especially horses, and many ordered
meals to be prepared for them by the families.  This was no doubt a far
pleasanter duty for some families than it would have been to render a
like service for Union soldiers.  The line between the Rebel and Union
element in Georgetown was so marked that it led to divisions even in the
churches.  There were churches in that part of Ohio where treason was
preached regularly, and where, to secure membership, hostility to the
government, to the war and to the liberation of the slaves, was far more
essential than a belief in the authenticity or credibility of the Bible.
There were men in Georgetown who filled all the requirements for
membership in these churches.

Yet this far-off western village, with a population, including old and
young, male and female, of about one thousand--about enough for the
organization of a single regiment if all had been men capable of bearing
arms--furnished the Union army four general officers and one colonel,
West Point graduates, and nine generals and field officers of
Volunteers, that I can think of. Of the graduates from West Point, all
had citizenship elsewhere at the breaking out of the rebellion, except
possibly General A. V. Kautz, who had remained in the army from his
graduation.  Two of the colonels also entered the service from other
localities.  The other seven, General McGroierty, Colonels White, Fyffe,
Loudon and Marshall, Majors King and Bailey, were all residents of
Georgetown when the war broke out, and all of them, who were alive at
the close, returned there.  Major Bailey was the cadet who had preceded
me at West Point.  He was killed in West Virginia, in his first
engagement.  As far as I know, every boy who has entered West Point from
that village since my time has been graduated.

I took passage on a steamer at Ripley, Ohio, for Pittsburg, about the
middle of May, 1839.  Western boats at that day did not make regular
trips at stated times, but would stop anywhere, and for any length of
time, for passengers or freight.  I have myself been detained two or
three days at a place after steam was up, the gang planks, all but one,
drawn in, and after the time advertised for starting had expired.  On
this occasion we had no vexatious delays, and in about three days
Pittsburg was reached.  From Pittsburg I chose passage by the canal to
Harrisburg, rather than by the more expeditious stage.  This gave a
better opportunity of enjoying the fine scenery of Western Pennsylvania,
and I had rather a dread of reaching my destination at all.  At that
time the canal was much patronized by travellers, and, with the
comfortable packets of the period, no mode of conveyance could be more
pleasant, when time was not an object.  From Harrisburg to Philadelphia
there was a railroad, the first I had ever seen, except the one on which
I had just crossed the summit of the Alleghany Mountains, and over which
canal boats were transported.  In travelling by the road from
Harrisburg, I thought the perfection of rapid transit had been reached.
We travelled at least eighteen miles an hour, when at full speed, and
made the whole distance averaging probably as much as twelve miles an
hour.  This seemed like annihilating space.  I stopped five days in
Philadelphia, saw about every street in the city, attended the theatre,
visited Girard College (which was then in course of construction), and
got reprimanded from home afterwards, for dallying by the way so long.
My sojourn in New York was shorter, but long enough to enable me to see
the city very well.  I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st of
May, and about two weeks later passed my examination for admission,
without difficulty, very much to my surprise.

A military life had no charms for me, and I had not the faintest idea of
staying in the army even if I should be graduated, which I did not
expect.  The encampment which preceded the commencement of academic
studies was very wearisome and uninteresting.  When the 28th of August
came--the date for breaking up camp and going into barracks--I felt as
though I had been at West Point always, and that if I staid to
graduation, I would have to remain always.  I did not take hold of my
studies with avidity, in fact I rarely ever read over a lesson the
second time during my entire cadetship.  I could not sit in my room
doing nothing.  There is a fine library connected with the Academy from
which cadets can get books to read in their quarters.  I devoted more
time to these, than to books relating to the course of studies.  Much of
the time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but not those of a
trashy sort.  I read all of Bulwer's then published, Cooper's,
Marryat's, Scott's, Washington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others
that I do not now remember.  Mathematics was very easy to me, so that
when January came, I passed the examination, taking a good standing in
that branch.  In French, the only other study at that time in the first
year's course, my standing was very low.  In fact, if the class had been
turned the other end foremost I should have been near head.  I never
succeeded in getting squarely at either end of my class, in any one
study, during the four years.  I came near it in French, artillery,
infantry and cavalry tactics, and conduct.

Early in the session of the Congress which met in December, 1839, a bill
was discussed abolishing the Military Academy.  I saw in this an
honorable way to obtain a discharge, and read the debates with much
interest, but with impatience at the delay in taking action, for I was
selfish enough to favor the bill.  It never passed, and a year later,
although the time hung drearily with me, I would have been sorry to have
seen it succeed.  My idea then was to get through the course, secure a
detail for a few years as assistant professor of mathematics at the
Academy, and afterwards obtain a permanent position as professor in some
respectable college; but circumstances always did shape my course
different from my plans.

At the end of two years the class received the usual furlough, extending
from the close of the June examination to the 28th of August.  This I
enjoyed beyond any other period of my life.  My father had sold out his
business in Georgetown--where my youth had been spent, and to which my
day-dreams carried me back as my future home, if I should ever be able
to retire on a competency.  He had moved to Bethel, only twelve miles
away, in the adjoining county of Clermont, and had bought a young horse
that had never been in harness, for my special use under the saddle
during my furlough.  Most of my time was spent among my old
school-mates--these ten weeks were shorter than one week at West Point.

Persons acquainted with the Academy know that the corps of cadets is
divided into four companies for the purpose of military exercises.
These companies are officered from the cadets, the superintendent and
commandant selecting the officers for their military bearing and
qualifications.  The adjutant, quartermaster, four captains and twelve
lieutenants are taken from the first, or Senior class; the sergeants
from the second, or junior class; and the corporals from the third, or
Sophomore class.  I had not been "called out" as a corporal, but when I
returned from furlough I found myself the last but one--about my
standing in all the tactics--of eighteen sergeants.  The promotion was
too much for me.  That year my standing in the class--as shown by the
number of demerits of the year--was about the same as it was among the
sergeants, and I was dropped, and served the fourth year as a private.

During my first year's encampment General Scott visited West Point, and
reviewed the cadets.  With his commanding figure, his quite colossal
size and showy uniform, I thought him the finest specimen of manhood my
eyes had ever beheld, and the most to be envied.  I could never resemble
him in appearance, but I believe I did have a presentiment for a moment
that some day I should occupy his place on review--although I had no
intention then of remaining in the army.  My experience in a horse-trade
ten years before, and the ridicule it caused me, were too fresh in my
mind for me to communicate this presentiment to even my most intimate
chum.  The next summer Martin Van Buren, then President of the United
States, visited West Point and reviewed the cadets; he did not impress
me with the awe which Scott had inspired.  In fact I regarded General
Scott and Captain C. F. Smith, the Commandant of Cadets, as the two men
most to be envied in the nation.  I retained a high regard for both up
to the day of their death.

The last two years wore away more rapidly than the first two, but they
still seemed about five times as long as Ohio years, to me.  At last all
the examinations were passed, and the members of the class were called
upon to record their choice of arms of service and regiments.  I was
anxious to enter the cavalry, or dragoons as they were then called, but
there was only one regiment of dragoons in the Army at that time, and
attached to that, besides the full complement of officers, there were at
least four brevet second lieutenants.  I recorded therefore my first
choice, dragoons; second, 4th infantry; and got the latter.  Again there
was a furlough--or, more properly speaking, leave of absence for the
class were now commissioned officers--this time to the end of September.
Again I went to Ohio to spend my vacation among my old school-mates; and
again I found a fine saddle horse purchased for my special use, besides
a horse and buggy that I could drive--but I was not in a physical
condition to enjoy myself quite as well as on the former occasion.  For
six months before graduation I had had a desperate cough ("Tyler's grip"
it was called), and I was very much reduced, weighing but one hundred
and seventeen pounds, just my weight at entrance, though I had grown six
inches in stature in the mean time.  There was consumption in my
father's family, two of his brothers having died of that disease, which
made my symptoms more alarming.  The brother and sister next younger
than myself died, during the rebellion, of the same disease, and I
seemed the most promising subject for it of the three in 1843.

Having made alternate choice of two different arms of service with
different uniforms, I could not get a uniform suit until notified of my
assignment.  I left my measurement with a tailor, with directions not to
make the uniform until I notified him whether it was to be for infantry
or dragoons.  Notice did not reach me for several weeks, and then it
took at least a week to get the letter of instructions to the tailor and
two more to make the clothes and have them sent to me.  This was a time
of great suspense.  I was impatient to get on my uniform and see how it
looked, and probably wanted my old school-mates, particularly the girls,
to see me in it.

The conceit was knocked out of me by two little circumstances that
happened soon after the arrival of the clothes, which gave me a distaste
for military uniform that I never recovered from.  Soon after the
arrival of the suit I donned it, and put off for Cincinnati on
horseback.  While I was riding along a street of that city, imagining
that every one was looking at me, with a feeling akin to mine when I
first saw General Scott, a little urchin, bareheaded, footed, with dirty
and ragged pants held up by bare a single gallows--that's what
suspenders were called then--and a shirt that had not seen a wash-tub
for weeks, turned to me and cried:  "Soldier! will you work?  No,
sir--ee; I'll sell my shirt first!!" The horse trade and its dire
consequences were recalled to mind.

The other circumstance occurred at home.  Opposite our house in Bethel
stood the old stage tavern where "man and beast" found accommodation,
The stable-man was rather dissipated, but possessed of some humor.  On
my return I found him parading the streets, and attending in the stable,
barefooted, but in a pair of sky-blue nankeen pantaloons--just the color
of my uniform trousers--with a strip of white cotton sheeting sewed down
the outside seams in imitation of mine.  The joke was a huge one in the
mind of many of the people, and was much enjoyed by them; but I did not
appreciate it so highly.

During the remainder of my leave of absence, my time was spent in
visiting friends in Georgetown and Cincinnati, and occasionally other
towns in that part of the State.



CHAPTER III.

ARMY LIFE--CAUSES OF THE MEXICAN WAR--CAMP SALUBRITY.

On the 30th of September I reported for duty at Jefferson Barracks, St.
Louis, with the 4th United States infantry.  It was the largest military
post in the country at that time, being garrisoned by sixteen companies
of infantry, eight of the 3d regiment, the remainder of the 4th.
Colonel Steven Kearney, one of the ablest officers of the day, commanded
the post, and under him discipline was kept at a high standard, but
without vexatious rules or regulations.  Every drill and roll-call had
to be attended, but in the intervals officers were permitted to enjoy
themselves, leaving the garrison, and going where they pleased, without
making written application to state where they were going for how long,
etc., so that they were back for their next duty.  It did seem to me, in
my early army days, that too many of the older officers, when they came
to command posts, made it a study to think what orders they could
publish to annoy their subordinates and render them uncomfortable.  I
noticed, however, a few years later, when the Mexican war broke out,
that most of this class of officers discovered they were possessed of
disabilities which entirely incapacitated them for active field service.
They had the moral courage to proclaim it, too.  They were right; but
they did not always give their disease the right name.

At West Point I had a class-mate--in the last year of our studies he was
room-mate also--F. T. Dent, whose family resided some five miles west of
Jefferson Barracks.  Two of his unmarried brothers were living at home
at that time, and as I had taken with me from Ohio, my horse, saddle and
bridle, I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the Dent
estate.  As I found the family congenial my visits became frequent.
There were at home, besides the young men, two daughters, one a school
miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight or nine.  There was still an
older daughter of seventeen, who had been spending several years at
boarding-school in St. Louis, but who, though through school, had not
yet returned home.  She was spending the winter in the city with
connections, the family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St.
Louis.  In February she returned to her country home.  After that I do
not know but my visits became more frequent; they certainly did become
more enjoyable.  We would often take walks, or go on horseback to visit
the neighbors, until I became quite well acquainted in that vicinity.
Sometimes one of the brothers would accompany us, sometimes one of the
younger sisters.  If the 4th infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks
it is possible, even probable, that this life might have continued for
some years without my finding out that there was anything serious the
matter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred which
developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no mistaking it.

The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of violent
discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals.  The
administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the most
strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was, indeed, the great
and absorbing question of the day.  During these discussions the greater
part of the single rifle regiment in the army--the 2d dragoons, which
had been dismounted a year or two before, and designated "Dismounted
Rifles"--was stationed at Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles
east of the Texas line, to observe the frontier.  About the 1st of May
the 3d infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go
into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await further
orders.  The troops were embarked on steamers and were on their way down
the Mississippi within a few days after the receipt of this order.
About the time they started I obtained a leave of absence for twenty
days to go to Ohio to visit my parents.  I was obliged to go to St.
Louis to take a steamer for Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first
steamer going up the Ohio River to any point.  Before I left St. Louis
orders were received at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th infantry to
follow the 3d.  A messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but
before he could reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events.  A
day or two after my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from a
classmate and fellow lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of the
circumstances related above, and advising me not to open any letter post
marked St. Louis or Jefferson Barracks, until the expiration of my
leave, and saying that he would pack up my things and take them along
for me.  His advice was not necessary, for no other letter was sent to
me.  I now discovered that I was exceedingly anxious to get back to
Jefferson Barracks, and I understood the reason without explanation from
any one.  My leave of absence required me to report for duty, at
Jefferson Barracks, at the end of twenty days.  I knew my regiment had
gone up the Red River, but I was not disposed to break the letter of my
leave; besides, if I had proceeded to Louisiana direct, I could not have
reached there until after the expiration of my leave.  Accordingly, at
the end of the twenty days, I reported for duty to Lieutenant Ewell,
commanding at Jefferson Barracks, handing him at the same time my leave
of absence.  After noticing the phraseology of the order--leaves of
absence were generally worded, "at the end of which time he will report
for duty with his proper command"--he said he would give me an order to
join my regiment in Louisiana.  I then asked for a few days' leave
before starting, which he readily granted.  This was the same Ewell who
acquired considerable reputation as a Confederate general during the
rebellion.  He was a man much esteemed, and deservedly so, in the old
army, and proved himself a gallant and efficient officer in two wars
--both in my estimation unholy.

I immediately procured a horse and started for the country, taking no
baggage with me, of course.  There is an insignificant creek--the
Gravois--between Jefferson Barracks and the place to which I was going,
and at that day there was not a bridge over it from its source to its
mouth.  There is not water enough in the creek at ordinary stages to run
a coffee mill, and at low water there is none running whatever.  On this
occasion it had been raining heavily, and, when the creek was reached, I
found the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid.  I looked at
it a moment to consider what to do.  One of my superstitions had always
been when I started to go any where, or to do anything, not to turn
back, or stop until the thing intended was accomplished.  I have
frequently started to go to places where I had never been and to which I
did not know the way, depending upon making inquiries on the road, and
if I got past the place without knowing it, instead of turning back, I
would go on until a road was found turning in the right direction, take
that, and come in by the other side.  So I struck into the stream, and
in an instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by the
current.  I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon reached it,
wet through and without other clothes on that side of the stream.  I
went on, however, to my destination and borrowed a dry suit from my
--future--brother-in-law.  We were not of the same size, but the clothes
answered every purpose until I got more of my own.

Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in the most
awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made on learning that the
4th infantry had been ordered away from Jefferson Barracks.  The young
lady afterwards admitted that she too, although until then she had never
looked upon me other than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to
her, had experienced a depression of spirits she could not account for
when the regiment left.  Before separating it was definitely understood
that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not let the
removal of a regiment trouble us.  This was in May, 1844.  It was the
22d of August, 1848, before the fulfilment of this agreement.  My duties
kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with the Army of Observation during
the pendency of Annexation; and afterwards I was absent through the war
with Mexico, provoked by the action of the army, if not by the
annexation itself. During that time there was a constant correspondence
between Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of four
years and three months.  In May, 1845, I procured a leave for twenty
days, visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of the parents for the
union, which had not been asked for before.

As already stated, it was never my intention to remain in the army long,
but to prepare myself for a professorship in some college.  Accordingly,
soon after I was settled at Jefferson Barracks, I wrote a letter to
Professor Church--Professor of Mathematics at West Point--requesting him
to ask my designation as his assistant, when next a detail had to be
made. Assistant professors at West Point are all officers of the army,
supposed to be selected for their special fitness for the particular
branch of study they are assigned to teach.  The answer from Professor
Church was entirely satisfactory, and no doubt I should have been
detailed a year or two later but for the Mexican War coming on.
Accordingly I laid out for myself a course of studies to be pursued in
garrison, with regularity, if not persistency.  I reviewed my West Point
course of mathematics during the seven months at Jefferson Barracks, and
read many valuable historical works, besides an occasional novel.  To
help my memory I kept a book in which I would write up, from time to
time, my recollections of all I had read since last posting it.  When
the regiment was ordered away, I being absent at the time, my effects
were packed up by Lieutenant Haslett, of the 4th infantry, and taken
along.  I never saw my journal after, nor did I ever keep another,
except for a portion of the time while travelling abroad.  Often since a
fear has crossed my mind lest that book might turn up yet, and fall into
the hands of some malicious person who would publish it.  I know its
appearance would cause me as much heart-burning as my youthful
horse-trade, or the later rebuke for wearing uniform clothes.

The 3d infantry had selected camping grounds on the reservation at Fort
Jessup, about midway between the Red River and the Sabine.  Our orders
required us to go into camp in the same neighborhood, and await further
instructions.  Those authorized to do so selected a place in the pine
woods, between the old town of Natchitoches and Grand Ecore, about three
miles from each, and on high ground back from the river.  The place was
given the name of Camp Salubrity, and proved entitled to it. The camp
was on a high, sandy, pine ridge, with spring branches in the valley, in
front and rear.  The springs furnished an abundance of cool, pure water,
and the ridge was above the flight of mosquitoes, which abound in that
region in great multitudes and of great voracity.  In the valley they
swarmed in myriads, but never came to the summit of the ridge.  The
regiment occupied this camp six months before the first death occurred,
and that was caused by an accident.

There was no intimation given that the removal of the 3d and 4th
regiments of infantry to the western border of Louisiana was occasioned
in any way by the prospective annexation of Texas, but it was generally
understood that such was the case. Ostensibly we were intended to
prevent filibustering into Texas, but really as a menace to Mexico in
case she appeared to contemplate war.  Generally the officers of the
army were indifferent whether the annexation was consummated or not; but
not so all of them.  For myself, I was bitterly opposed to the measure,
and to this day regard the war, which resulted, as one of the most
unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation.  It was an
instance of a republic following the bad example of European monarchies,
in not considering justice in their desire to acquire additional
territory.  Texas was originally a state belonging to the republic of
Mexico.  It extended from the Sabine River on the east to the Rio Grande
on the west, and from the Gulf of Mexico on the south and east to the
territory of the United States and New Mexico--another Mexican state at
that time--on the north and west.  An empire in territory, it had but a
very sparse population, until settled by Americans who had received
authority from Mexico to colonize. These colonists paid very little
attention to the supreme government, and introduced slavery into the
state almost from the start, though the constitution of Mexico did not,
nor does it now, sanction that institution.  Soon they set up an
independent government of their own, and war existed, between Texas and
Mexico, in name from that time until 1836, when active hostilities very
nearly ceased upon the capture of Santa Anna, the Mexican President.
Before long, however, the same people--who with permission of Mexico had
colonized Texas, and afterwards set up slavery there, and then seceded
as soon as they felt strong enough to do so--offered themselves and the
State to the United States, and in 1845 their offer was accepted.  The
occupation, separation and annexation were, from the inception of the
movement to its final consummation, a conspiracy to acquire territory
out of which slave states might be formed for the American Union.

Even if the annexation itself could be justified, the manner in which
the subsequent war was forced upon Mexico cannot.  The fact is,
annexationists wanted more territory than they could possibly lay any
claim to, as part of the new acquisition. Texas, as an independent
State, never had exercised jurisdiction over the territory between the
Nueces River and the Rio Grande. Mexico had never recognized the
independence of Texas, and maintained that, even if independent, the
State had no claim south of the Nueces.  I am aware that a treaty, made
by the Texans with Santa Anna while he was under duress, ceded all the
territory between the Nueces and the Rio Grande--, but he was a prisoner
of war when the treaty was made, and his life was in jeopardy.  He knew,
too, that he deserved execution at the hands of the Texans, if they
should ever capture him.  The Texans, if they had taken his life, would
have only followed the example set by Santa Anna himself a few years
before, when he executed the entire garrison of the Alamo and the
villagers of Goliad.

In taking military possession of Texas after annexation, the army of
occupation, under General Taylor, was directed to occupy the disputed
territory.  The army did not stop at the Nueces and offer to negotiate
for a settlement of the boundary question, but went beyond, apparently
in order to force Mexico to initiate war.  It is to the credit of the
American nation, however, that after conquering Mexico, and while
practically holding the country in our possession, so that we could have
retained the whole of it, or made any terms we chose, we paid a round
sum for the additional territory taken; more than it was worth, or was
likely to be, to Mexico.  To us it was an empire and of incalculable
value; but it might have been obtained by other means.  The Southern
rebellion was largely the outgrowth of the Mexican war.  Nations, like
individuals, are punished for their transgressions.  We got our
punishment in the most sanguinary and expensive war of modern times.

The 4th infantry went into camp at Salubrity in the month of May, 1844,
with instructions, as I have said, to await further orders.  At first,
officers and men occupied ordinary tents.  As the summer heat increased
these were covered by sheds to break the rays of the sun.  The summer
was whiled away in social enjoyments among the officers, in visiting
those stationed at, and near, Fort Jessup, twenty-five miles away,
visiting the planters on the Red River, and the citizens of Natchitoches
and Grand Ecore.  There was much pleasant intercourse between the
inhabitants and the officers of the army.  I retain very agreeable
recollections of my stay at Camp Salubrity, and of the acquaintances
made there, and no doubt my feeling is shared by the few officers living
who were there at the time.  I can call to mind only two officers of the
4th infantry, besides myself, who were at Camp Salubrity with the
regiment, who are now alive.

With a war in prospect, and belonging to a regiment that had an unusual
number of officers detailed on special duty away from the regiment, my
hopes of being ordered to West Point as instructor vanished.  At the
time of which I now write, officers in the quartermaster's, commissary's
and adjutant--general's departments were appointed from the line of the
army, and did not vacate their regimental commissions until their
regimental and staff commissions were for the same grades.  Generally
lieutenants were appointed to captaincies to fill vacancies in the staff
corps.  If they should reach a captaincy in the line before they arrived
at a majority in the staff, they would elect which commission they would
retain.  In the 4th infantry, in 1844, at least six line officers were
on duty in the staff, and therefore permanently detached from the
regiment.  Under these circumstances I gave up everything like a special
course of reading, and only read thereafter for my own amusement, and
not very much for that, until the war was over.  I kept a horse and
rode, and staid out of doors most of the time by day, and entirely
recovered from the cough which I had carried from West Point, and from
all indications of consumption.  I have often thought that my life was
saved, and my health restored, by exercise and exposure, enforced by an
administrative act, and a war, both of which I disapproved.

As summer wore away, and cool days and colder nights came upon us, the
tents we were occupying ceased to afford comfortable quarters; and
"further orders" not reaching us, we began to look about to remedy the
hardship.  Men were put to work getting out timber to build huts, and in
a very short time all were comfortably housed--privates as well as
officers.  The outlay by the government in accomplishing this was
nothing, or nearly nothing.  The winter was spent more agreeably than
the summer had been.  There were occasional parties given by the
planters along the "coast"--as the bottom lands on the Red River were
called.  The climate was delightful.

Near the close of the short session of Congress of 1844-5, the bill for
the annexation of Texas to the United States was passed.  It reached
President Tyler on the 1st of March, 1845, and promptly received his
approval.  When the news reached us we began to look again for "further
orders."  They did not arrive promptly, and on the 1st of May following
I asked and obtained a leave of absence for twenty days, for the purpose
of visiting--St. Louis.  The object of this visit has been before
stated.

Early in July the long expected orders were received, but they only took
the regiment to New Orleans Barracks.  We reached there before the
middle of the month, and again waited weeks for still further orders.
The yellow fever was raging in New Orleans during the time we remained
there, and the streets of the city had the appearance of a continuous
well-observed Sunday.  I recollect but one occasion when this observance
seemed to be broken by the inhabitants.  One morning about daylight I
happened to be awake, and, hearing the discharge of a rifle not far off,
I looked out to ascertain where the sound came from.  I observed a
couple of clusters of men near by, and learned afterwards that "it was
nothing; only a couple of gentlemen deciding a difference of opinion
with rifles, at twenty paces."  I do not remember if either was killed,
or even hurt, but no doubt the question of difference was settled
satisfactorily, and "honorably," in the estimation of the parties
engaged.  I do not believe I ever would have the courage to fight a
duel.  If any man should wrong me to the extent of my being willing to
kill him, I would not be willing to give him the choice of weapons with
which it should be done, and of the time, place and distance separating
us, when I executed him.  If I should do another such a wrong as to
justify him in killing me, I would make any reasonable atonement within
my power, if convinced of the wrong done.  I place my opposition to
duelling on higher grounds than here stated.  No doubt a majority of the
duels fought have been for want of moral courage on the part of those
engaged to decline.

At Camp Salubrity, and when we went to New Orleans Barracks, the 4th
infantry was commanded by Colonel Vose, then an old gentleman who had
not commanded on drill for a number of years.  He was not a man to
discover infirmity in the presence of danger.  It now appeared that war
was imminent, and he felt that it was his duty to brush up his tactics.
Accordingly, when we got settled down at our new post, he took command
of the regiment at a battalion drill.  Only two or three evolutions had
been gone through when he dismissed the battalion, and, turning to go to
his own quarters, dropped dead.  He had not been complaining of ill
health, but no doubt died of heart disease.  He was a most estimable
man, of exemplary habits, and by no means the author of his own disease.



CHAPTER IV.

CORPUS CHRISTI--MEXICAN SMUGGLING--SPANISH RULE IN MEXICO--SUPPLYING
TRANSPORTATION.

Early in September the regiment left New Orleans for Corpus Christi, now
in Texas.  Ocean steamers were not then common, and the passage was made
in sailing vessels.  At that time there was not more than three feet of
water in the channel at the outlet of Corpus Christi Bay; the
debarkation, therefore, had to take place by small steamers, and at an
island in the channel called Shell Island, the ships anchoring some
miles out from shore. This made the work slow, and as the army was only
supplied with one or two steamers, it took a number of days to effect
the landing of a single regiment with its stores, camp and garrison
equipage, etc.  There happened to be pleasant weather while this was
going on, but the land-swell was so great that when the ship and steamer
were on opposite sides of the same wave they would be at considerable
distance apart.  The men and baggage were let down to a point higher
than the lower deck of the steamer, and when ship and steamer got into
the trough between the waves, and were close together, the load would be
drawn over the steamer and rapidly run down until it rested on the deck.

After I had gone ashore, and had been on guard several days at Shell
Island, quite six miles from the ship, I had occasion for some reason or
other to return on board.  While on the Suviah--I think that was the
name of our vessel--I heard a tremendous racket at the other end of the
ship, and much and excited sailor language, such as "damn your eyes,"
etc.  In a moment or two the captain, who was an excitable little man,
dying with consumption, and not weighing much over a hundred pounds,
came running out, carrying a sabre nearly as large and as heavy as he
was, and crying, that his men had mutinied.  It was necessary to sustain
the captain without question, and in a few minutes all the sailors
charged with mutiny were in irons.  I rather felt for a time a wish that
I had not gone aboard just then.  As the men charged with mutiny
submitted to being placed in irons without resistance, I always doubted
if they knew that they had mutinied until they were told.

By the time I was ready to leave the ship again I thought I had learned
enough of the working of the double and single pulley, by which
passengers were let down from the upper deck of the ship to the steamer
below, and determined to let myself down without assistance.  Without
saying anything of my intentions to any one, I mounted the railing, and
taking hold of the centre rope, just below the upper block, I put one
foot on the hook below the lower block, and stepped off just as I did so
some one called out "hold on."  It was too late.  I tried to "hold on"
with all my might, but my heels went up, and my head went down so
rapidly that my hold broke, and I plunged head foremost into the water,
some twenty-five feet below, with such velocity that it seemed to me I
never would stop.  When I came to the surface again, being a fair
swimmer, and not having lost my presence of mind, I swam around until a
bucket was let down for me, and I was drawn up without a scratch or
injury. I do not believe there was a man on board who sympathized with
me in the least when they found me uninjured.  I rather enjoyed the joke
myself. The captain of the Suviah died of his disease a few months later,
and I believe before the mutineers were tried.  I hope they got clear,
because, as before stated, I always thought the mutiny was all in the
brain of a very weak and sick man.

After reaching shore, or Shell Island, the labor of getting to Corpus
Christi was slow and tedious.  There was, if my memory serves me, but
one small steamer to transport troops and baggage when the 4th infantry
arrived.  Others were procured later.  The distance from Shell Island to
Corpus Christi was some sixteen or eighteen miles.  The channel to the
bay was so shallow that the steamer, small as it was, had to be dragged
over the bottom when loaded.  Not more than one trip a day could be
effected.  Later this was remedied, by deepening the channel and
increasing the number of vessels suitable to its navigation.

Corpus Christi is near the head of the bay of the same name, formed by
the entrance of the Nueces River into tide-water, and is on the west
bank of that bay.  At the time of its first occupancy by United States
troops there was a small Mexican hamlet there, containing probably less
than one hundred souls. There was, in addition, a small American trading
post, at which goods were sold to Mexican smugglers.  All goods were put
up in compact packages of about one hundred pounds each, suitable for
loading on pack mules.  Two of these packages made a load for an
ordinary Mexican mule, and three for the larger ones.  The bulk of the
trade was in leaf tobacco, and domestic cotton-cloths and calicoes.  The
Mexicans had, before the arrival of the army, but little to offer in
exchange except silver.  The trade in tobacco was enormous, considering
the population to be supplied.  Almost every Mexican above the age of
ten years, and many much younger, smoked the cigarette.  Nearly every
Mexican carried a pouch of leaf tobacco, powdered by rolling in the
hands, and a roll of corn husks to make wrappers.  The cigarettes were
made by the smokers as they used them.

Up to the time of which I write, and for years afterwards--I think until
the administration of President Juarez--the cultivation, manufacture and
sale of tobacco constituted a government monopoly, and paid the bulk of
the revenue collected from internal sources.  The price was enormously
high, and made successful smuggling very profitable.  The difficulty of
obtaining tobacco is probably the reason why everybody, male and female,
used it at that time.  I know from my own experience that when I was at
West Point, the fact that tobacco, in every form, was prohibited, and
the mere possession of the weed severely punished, made the majority of
the cadets, myself included, try to acquire the habit of using it.  I
failed utterly at the time and for many years afterward; but the
majority accomplished the object of their youthful ambition.

Under Spanish rule Mexico was prohibited from producing anything that
the mother-country could supply.  This rule excluded the cultivation of
the grape, olive and many other articles to which the soil and climate
were well adapted.  The country was governed for "revenue only;" and
tobacco, which cannot be raised in Spain, but is indigenous to Mexico,
offered a fine instrumentality for securing this prime object of
government.  The native population had been in the habit of using "the
weed" from a period, back of any recorded history of this continent.
Bad habits--if not restrained by law or public opinion--spread more
rapidly and universally than good ones, and the Spanish colonists
adopted the use of tobacco almost as generally as the natives.  Spain,
therefore, in order to secure the largest revenue from this source,
prohibited the cultivation, except in specified localities--and in these
places farmed out the privilege at a very high price.  The tobacco when
raised could only be sold to the government, and the price to the
consumer was limited only by the avarice of the authorities, and the
capacity of the people to pay.

All laws for the government of the country were enacted in Spain, and
the officers for their execution were appointed by the Crown, and sent
out to the New El Dorado.  The Mexicans had been brought up ignorant of
how to legislate or how to rule. When they gained their independence,
after many years of war, it was the most natural thing in the world that
they should adopt as their own the laws then in existence.  The only
change was, that Mexico became her own executor of the laws and the
recipient of the revenues.  The tobacco tax, yielding so large a revenue
under the law as it stood, was one of the last, if not the very last, of
the obnoxious imposts to be repealed.  Now, the citizens are allowed to
cultivate any crops the soil will yield.  Tobacco is cheap, and every
quality can be produced. Its use is by no means so general as when I
first visited the country.

Gradually the "Army of Occupation" assembled at Corpus Christi.  When it
was all together it consisted of seven companies of the 2d regiment of
dragoons, four companies of light artillery, five regiments of infantry
--the 3d, 4th, 5th, 7th and 8th--and one regiment of artillery acting as
infantry--not more than three thousand men in all.  General Zachary
Taylor commanded the whole.  There were troops enough in one body to
establish a drill and discipline sufficient to fit men and officers for
all they were capable of in case of battle.  The rank and file were
composed of men who had enlisted in time of peace, to serve for seven
dollars a month, and were necessarily inferior as material to the
average volunteers enlisted later in the war expressly to fight, and
also to the volunteers in the war for the preservation of the Union.
The men engaged in the Mexican war were brave, and the officers of the
regular army, from highest to lowest, were educated in their profession.
A more efficient army for its number and armament, I do not believe ever
fought a battle than the one commanded by General Taylor in his first
two engagements on Mexican--or Texan soil.

The presence of United States troops on the edge of the disputed
territory furthest from the Mexican settlements, was not sufficient to
provoke hostilities.  We were sent to provoke a fight, but it was
essential that Mexico should commence it.  It was very doubtful whether
Congress would declare war; but if Mexico should attack our troops, the
Executive could announce, "Whereas, war exists by the acts of, etc.,"
and prosecute the contest with vigor.  Once initiated there were but few
public men who would have the courage to oppose it.  Experience proves
that the man who obstructs a war in which his nation is engaged, no
matter whether right or wrong, occupies no enviable place in life or
history.  Better for him, individually, to advocate "war, pestilence,
and famine," than to act as obstructionist to a war already begun.  The
history of the defeated rebel will be honorable hereafter, compared with
that of the Northern man who aided him by conspiring against his
government while protected by it.  The most favorable posthumous history
the stay-at-home traitor can hope for is--oblivion.

Mexico showing no willingness to come to the Nueces to drive the
invaders from her soil, it became necessary for the "invaders" to
approach to within a convenient distance to be struck. Accordingly,
preparations were begun for moving the army to the Rio Grande, to a
point near Matamoras.  It was desirable to occupy a position near the
largest centre of population possible to reach, without absolutely
invading territory to which we set up no claim whatever.

The distance from Corpus Christi to Matamoras is about one hundred and
fifty miles.  The country does not abound in fresh water, and the length
of the marches had to be regulated by the distance between water
supplies.  Besides the streams, there were occasional pools, filled
during the rainy season, some probably made by the traders, who
travelled constantly between Corpus Christi and the Rio Grande, and some
by the buffalo. There was not at that time a single habitation,
cultivated field, or herd of domestic animals, between Corpus Christi
and Matamoras.  It was necessary, therefore, to have a wagon train
sufficiently large to transport the camp and garrison equipage,
officers' baggage, rations for the army, and part rations of grain for
the artillery horses and all the animals taken from the north, where
they had been accustomed to having their forage furnished them.  The
army was but indifferently supplied with transportation.  Wagons and
harness could easily be supplied from the north but mules and horses
could not so readily be brought.  The American traders and Mexican
smugglers came to the relief.  Contracts were made for mules at from
eight to eleven dollars each.  The smugglers furnished the animals, and
took their pay in goods of the description before mentioned.  I doubt
whether the Mexicans received in value from the traders five dollars per
head for the animals they furnished, and still more, whether they paid
anything but their own time in procuring them.  Such is trade; such is
war.  The government paid in hard cash to the contractor the stipulated
price.

Between the Rio Grande and the Nueces there was at that time a large
band of wild horses feeding; as numerous, probably, as the band of
buffalo roaming further north was before its rapid extermination
commenced.  The Mexicans used to capture these in large numbers and
bring them into the American settlements and sell them.  A picked animal
could be purchased at from eight to twelve dollars, but taken at
wholesale, they could be bought for thirty-six dollars a dozen.  Some of
these were purchased for the army, and answered a most useful purpose.
The horses were generally very strong, formed much like the Norman
horse, and with very heavy manes and tails.  A number of officers
supplied themselves with these, and they generally rendered as useful
service as the northern animal in fact they were much better when
grazing was the only means of supplying forage.

There was no need for haste, and some months were consumed in the
necessary preparations for a move.  In the meantime the army was engaged
in all the duties pertaining to the officer and the soldier.  Twice,
that I remember, small trains were sent from Corpus Christi, with
cavalry escorts, to San Antonio and Austin, with paymasters and funds to
pay off small detachments of troops stationed at those places.  General
Taylor encouraged officers to accompany these expeditions.  I
accompanied one of them in December, 1845.  The distance from Corpus
Christi to San Antonio was then computed at one hundred and fifty miles.
Now that roads exist it is probably less.  From San Antonio to Austin we
computed the distance at one hundred and ten miles, and from the latter
place back to Corpus Christi at over two hundred miles.  I know the
distance now from San Antonio to Austin is but little over eighty miles,
so that our computation was probably too high.

There was not at the time an individual living between Corpus Christi
and San Antonio until within about thirty miles of the latter point,
where there were a few scattering Mexican settlements along the San
Antonio River.  The people in at least one of these hamlets lived
underground for protection against the Indians.  The country abounded in
game, such as deer and antelope, with abundance of wild turkeys along
the streams and where there were nut-bearing woods.  On the Nueces,
about twenty-five miles up from Corpus Christi, were a few log cabins,
the remains of a town called San Patricio, but the inhabitants had all
been massacred by the Indians, or driven away.

San Antonio was about equally divided in population between Americans
and Mexicans.  From there to Austin there was not a single residence
except at New Braunfels, on the Guadalupe River.  At that point was a
settlement of Germans who had only that year come into the State.  At
all events they were living in small huts, about such as soldiers would
hastily construct for temporary occupation.  From Austin to Corpus
Christi there was only a small settlement at Bastrop, with a few farms
along the Colorado River; but after leaving that, there were no
settlements except the home of one man, with one female slave, at the
old town of Goliad.  Some of the houses were still standing.  Goliad had
been quite a village for the period and region, but some years before
there had been a Mexican massacre, in which every inhabitant had been
killed or driven away.  This, with the massacre of the prisoners in the
Alamo, San Antonio, about the same time, more than three hundred men in
all, furnished the strongest justification the Texans had for carrying
on the war with so much cruelty.  In fact, from that time until the
Mexican war, the hostilities between Texans and Mexicans was so great
that neither was safe in the neighborhood of the other who might be in
superior numbers or possessed of superior arms.  The man we found living
there seemed like an old friend; he had come from near Fort Jessup,
Louisiana, where the officers of the 3d and 4th infantry and the 2d
dragoons had known him and his family.  He had emigrated in advance of
his family to build up a home for them.



CHAPTER V.

TRIP TO AUSTIN--PROMOTION TO FULL SECOND LIEUTENANT--ARMY OF OCCUPATION.

When our party left Corpus Christi it was quite large, including the
cavalry escort, Paymaster, Major Dix, his clerk and the officers who,
like myself, were simply on leave; but all the officers on leave, except
Lieutenant Benjamin--afterwards killed in the valley of Mexico
--Lieutenant, now General, Augur, and myself, concluded to spend their
allotted time at San Antonio and return from there.  We were all to be
back at Corpus Christi by the end of the month.  The paymaster was
detained in Austin so long that, if we had waited for him, we would have
exceeded our leave.  We concluded, therefore, to start back at once with
the animals we had, and having to rely principally on grass for their
food, it was a good six days' journey.  We had to sleep on the prairie
every night, except at Goliad, and possibly one night on the Colorado,
without shelter and with only such food as we carried with us, and
prepared ourselves.  The journey was hazardous on account of Indians,
and there were white men in Texas whom I would not have cared to meet in
a secluded place. Lieutenant Augur was taken seriously sick before we
reached Goliad and at a distance from any habitation.  To add to the
complication, his horse--a mustang that had probably been captured from
the band of wild horses before alluded to, and of undoubted longevity at
his capture--gave out. It was absolutely necessary to get for ward to
Goliad to find a shelter for our sick companion.  By dint of patience
and exceedingly slow movements, Goliad was at last reached, and a
shelter and bed secured for our patient.  We remained over a day, hoping
that Augur might recover sufficiently to resume his travels.  He did
not, however, and knowing that Major Dix would be along in a few days,
with his wagon-train, now empty, and escort, we arranged with our
Louisiana friend to take the best of care of the sick lieutenant until
thus relieved, and went on.

I had never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever gone in
search of game, and rarely seen any when looking for it.  On this trip
there was no minute of time while travelling between San Patricio and
the settlements on the San Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin,
and again from the Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or
antelope could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a
shot-gun, and every evening, after going into camp, some would go out
and soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for the entire
camp.  I, however, never went out, and had no occasion to fire my gun;
except, being detained over a day at Goliad, Benjamin and I concluded to
go down to the creek--which was fringed with timber, much of it the
pecan--and bring back a few turkeys.  We had scarcely reached the edge
of the timber when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an
instant I saw two or three turkeys flying away.  These were soon
followed by more, then more, and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty
had left from just over my head.  All this time I stood watching the
turkeys to see where they flew--with my gun on my shoulder, and never
once thought of levelling it at the birds.  When I had time to reflect
upon the matter, I came to the conclusion that as a sportsman I was a
failure, and went back to the house.  Benjamin remained out, and got as
many turkeys as he wanted to carry back.

After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to make the
remainder of the journey alone.  We reached Corpus Christi just in time
to avoid "absence without leave."  We met no one not even an Indian
--during the remainder of our journey, except at San Patricio.  A new
settlement had been started there in our absence of three weeks, induced
possibly by the fact that there were houses already built, while the
proximity of troops gave protection against the Indians.  On the evening
of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly howling of
wolves, directly in our front.  The prairie grass was tall and we could
not see the beasts, but the sound indicated that they were near.  To my
ear it appeared that there must have been enough of them to devour our
party, horses and all, at a single meal.  The part of Ohio that I hailed
from was not thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before
I left.  Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the wolf
yet roamed over the prairies.  He understood the nature of the animal
and the capacity of a few to make believe there was an unlimited number
of them.  He kept on towards the noise, unmoved.  I followed in his
trail, lacking moral courage to turn back and join our sick companion.
I have no doubt that if Benjamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I
would not only have "seconded the motion" but have suggested that it
was very hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first
place; but Benjamin did not propose turning back.  When he did speak it
was to ask: "Grant, how many wolves do you think there are in that
pack?" Knowing where he was from, and suspecting that he thought I would
over-estimate the number, I determined to show my acquaintance with the
animal by putting the estimate below what possibly could be correct, and
answered:  "Oh, about twenty," very indifferently.  He smiled and rode
on.  In a minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us.  There
were just TWO of them.  Seated upon their haunches, with their mouths
close together, they had made all the noise we had been hearing for the
past ten minutes.  I have often thought of this incident since when I
have heard the noise of a few disappointed politicians who had deserted
their associates.  There are always more of them before they are
counted.

A week or two before leaving Corpus Christi on this trip, I had been
promoted from brevet second-lieutenant, 4th infantry, to full
second-lieutenant, 7th infantry.  Frank Gardner,(*1) of the 7th, was
promoted to the 4th in the same orders.  We immediately made application
to be transferred, so as to get back to our old regiments.  On my
return, I found that our application had been approved at Washington.
While in the 7th infantry I was in the company of Captain Holmes,
afterwards a Lieutenant-general in the Confederate army. I never came in
contact with him in the war of the Rebellion, nor did he render any very
conspicuous service in his high rank.  My transfer carried me to the
company of Captain McCall, who resigned from the army after the Mexican
war and settled in Philadelphia.  He was prompt, however, to volunteer
when the rebellion broke out, and soon rose to the rank of major-general
in the Union army.  I was not fortunate enough to meet him after he
resigned. In the old army he was esteemed very highly as a soldier and
gentleman. Our relations were always most pleasant.

The preparations at Corpus Christi for an advance progressed as rapidly
in the absence of some twenty or more lieutenants as if we had been
there.  The principal business consisted in securing mules, and getting
them broken to harness.  The process was slow but amusing.  The animals
sold to the government were all young and unbroken, even to the saddle,
and were quite as wild as the wild horses of the prairie.  Usually a
number would be brought in by a company of Mexicans, partners in the
delivery.  The mules were first driven into a stockade, called a corral,
inclosing an acre or more of ground.  The Mexicans,--who were all
experienced in throwing the lasso,--would go into the corral on
horseback, with their lassos attached to the pommels of their saddles.
Soldiers detailed as teamsters and black smiths would also enter the
corral, the former with ropes to serve as halters, the latter with
branding irons and a fire to keep the irons heated.  A lasso was then
thrown over the neck of a mule, when he would immediately go to the
length of his tether, first one end, then the other in the air.  While
he was thus plunging and gyrating, another lasso would be thrown by
another Mexican, catching the animal by a fore-foot.  This would bring
the mule to the ground, when he was seized and held by the teamsters
while the blacksmith put upon him, with hot irons, the initials "U. S."
Ropes were then put about the neck, with a slipnoose which would tighten
around the throat if pulled.  With a man on each side holding these
ropes, the mule was released from his other bindings and allowed to
rise.  With more or less difficulty he would be conducted to a picket
rope outside and fastened there.  The delivery of that mule was then
complete. This process was gone through with every mule and wild horse
with the army of occupation.

The method of breaking them was less cruel and much more amusing.  It is
a well-known fact that where domestic animals are used for specific
purposes from generation to generation, the descendants are easily, as a
rule, subdued to the same uses.  At that time in Northern Mexico the
mule, or his ancestors, the horse and the ass, was seldom used except
for the saddle or pack.  At all events the Corpus Christi mule resisted
the new use to which he was being put.  The treatment he was subjected
to in order to overcome his prejudices was summary and effective.

The soldiers were principally foreigners who had enlisted in our large
cities, and, with the exception of a chance drayman among them, it is
not probable that any of the men who reported themselves as competent
teamsters had ever driven a mule-team in their lives, or indeed that
many had had any previous experience in driving any animal whatever to
harness.  Numbers together can accomplish what twice their number acting
individually could not perform.  Five mules were allotted to each wagon.
A teamster would select at the picket rope five animals of nearly the
same color and general appearance for his team.  With a full corps of
assistants, other teamsters, he would then proceed to get his mules
together.  In two's the men would approach each animal selected,
avoiding as far as possible its heels.  Two ropes would be put about the
neck of each animal, with a slip noose, so that he could be choked if
too unruly.  They were then led out, harnessed by force and hitched to
the wagon in the position they had to keep ever after.  Two men remained
on either side of the leader, with the lassos about its neck, and one
man retained the same restraining influence over each of the others.
All being ready, the hold would be slackened and the team started. The
first motion was generally five mules in the air at one time, backs
bowed, hind feet extended to the rear.  After repeating this movement a
few times the leaders would start to run.  This would bring the
breeching tight against the mules at the wheels, which these last seemed
to regard as a most unwarrantable attempt at coercion and would resist
by taking a seat, sometimes going so far as to lie down.  In time all
were broken in to do their duty submissively if not cheerfully, but
there never was a time during the war when it was safe to let a Mexican
mule get entirely loose.  Their drivers were all teamsters by the time
they got through.

I recollect one case of a mule that had worked in a team under the
saddle, not only for some time at Corpus Christi, where he was broken,
but all the way to the point opposite Matamoras, then to Camargo, where
he got loose from his fastenings during the night.  He did not run away
at first, but staid in the neighborhood for a day or two, coming up
sometimes to the feed trough even; but on the approach of the teamster
he always got out of the way.  At last, growing tired of the constant
effort to catch him, he disappeared altogether.  Nothing short of a
Mexican with his lasso could have caught him.  Regulations would not
have warranted the expenditure of a dollar in hiring a man with a lasso
to catch that mule; but they did allow the expenditure "of the mule," on
a certificate that he had run away without any fault of the
quartermaster on whose returns he was borne, and also the purchase of
another to take his place.  I am a competent witness, for I was
regimental quartermaster at the time.

While at Corpus Christi all the officers who had a fancy for riding kept
horses.  The animals cost but little in the first instance, and when
picketed they would get their living without any cost.  I had three not
long before the army moved, but a sad accident bereft me of them all at
one time.  A <DW52> boy who gave them all the attention they got
--besides looking after my tent and that of a class-mate and
fellow-lieutenant and cooking for us, all for about eight dollars per
month, was riding one to water and leading the other two.  The led
horses pulled him from his seat and all three ran away.  They never were
heard of afterwards.  Shortly after that some one told Captain Bliss,
General Taylor's Adjutant-General, of my misfortune.  "Yes; I heard
Grant lost five or six dollars' worth of horses the other day," he
replied.  That was a slander; they were broken to the saddle when I got
them and cost nearly twenty dollars.  I never suspected the <DW52> boy
of malicious intent in letting them get away, because, if they had not
escaped, he could have had one of them to ride on the long march then in
prospect.



CHAPTER VI.

ADVANCE OF THE ARMY--CROSSING THE COLORADO--THE RIO GRANDE.

At last the preparations were complete and orders were issued for the
advance to begin on the 8th of March.  General Taylor had an army of not
more than three thousand men.  One battery, the siege guns and all the
convalescent troops were sent on by water to Brazos Santiago, at the
mouth of the Rio Grande.  A guard was left back at Corpus Christi to
look after public property and to take care of those who were too sick
to be removed.  The remainder of the army, probably not more than twenty
five hundred men, was divided into three brigades, with the cavalry
independent.  Colonel Twiggs, with seven companies of dragoons and a
battery of light artillery, moved on the 8th.  He was followed by the
three infantry brigades, with a day's interval between the commands.
Thus the rear brigade did not move from Corpus Christi until the 11th of
March.  In view of the immense bodies of men moved on the same day over
narrow roads, through dense forests and across large streams, in our
late war, it seems strange now that a body of less than three thousand
men should have been broken into four columns, separated by a day's
march.

General Taylor was opposed to anything like plundering by the troops,
and in this instance, I doubt not, he looked upon the enemy as the
aggrieved party and was not willing to injure them further than his
instructions from Washington demanded.  His orders to the troops
enjoined scrupulous regard for the rights of all peaceable persons and
the payment of the highest price for all supplies taken for the use of
the army.

All officers of foot regiments who had horses were permitted to ride
them on the march when it did not interfere with their military duties.
As already related, having lost my "five or six dollars' worth of
horses" but a short time before I determined not to get another, but to
make the journey on foot.  My company commander, Captain McCall, had two
good American horses, of considerably more value in that country, where
native horses were cheap, than they were in the States. He used one
himself and wanted the other for his servant.  He was quite anxious to
know whether I did not intend to get me another horse before the march
began.  I told him No; I belonged to a foot regiment.  I did not
understand the object of his solicitude at the time, but, when we were
about to start, he said:  "There, Grant, is a horse for you."  I found
that he could not bear the idea of his servant riding on a long march
while his lieutenant went a-foot.  He had found a mustang, a three-year
old colt only recently captured, which had been purchased by one of the
<DW52> servants with the regiment for the sum of three dollars.  It was
probably the only horse at Corpus Christi that could have been purchased
just then for any reasonable price.  Five dollars, sixty-six and
two-thirds per cent. advance, induced the owner to part with the
mustang.  I was sorry to take him, because I really felt that, belonging
to a foot regiment, it was my duty to march with the men.  But I saw the
Captain's earnestness in the matter, and accepted the horse for the
trip.  The day we started was the first time the horse had ever been
under saddle. I had, however, but little difficulty in breaking him,
though for the first day there were frequent disagreements between us as
to which way we should go, and sometimes whether we should go at all.
At no time during the day could I choose exactly the part of the column
I would march with; but after that, I had as tractable a horse as any
with the army, and there was none that stood the trip better. He never
ate a mouthful of food on the journey except the grass he could pick
within the length of his picket rope.

A few days out from Corpus Christi, the immense herd of wild horses that
ranged at that time between the Nueces and the Rio Grande was seen
directly in advance of the head of the column and but a few miles off.
It was the very band from which the horse I was riding had been captured
but a few weeks before. The column was halted for a rest, and a number
of officers, myself among them, rode out two or three miles to the right
to see the extent of the herd.  The country was a rolling prairie, and,
from the higher ground, the vision was obstructed only by the earth's
curvature.  As far as the eye could reach to our right, the herd
extended.  To the left, it extended equally. There was no estimating the
number of animals in it; I have no idea that they could all have been
corralled in the State of Rhode Island, or Delaware, at one time.  If
they had been, they would have been so thick that the pasturage would
have given out the first day. People who saw the Southern herd of
buffalo, fifteen or twenty years ago, can appreciate the  size of the
Texas band of wild horses in 1846.

At the point where the army struck the Little Colorado River, the stream
was quite wide and of sufficient depth for navigation. The water was
brackish and the banks were fringed with timber. Here the whole army
concentrated before attempting to cross. The army was not accompanied by
a pontoon train, and at that time the troops were not instructed in
bridge building.  To add to the embarrassment of the situation, the army
was here, for the first time, threatened with opposition. Buglers,
concealed from our view by the brush on the opposite side, sounded the
"assembly," and other military calls.  Like the wolves before spoken of,
they gave the impression that there was a large number of them and that,
if the troops were in proportion to the noise, they were sufficient to
devour General Taylor and his army.  There were probably but few troops,
and those engaged principally in watching the movements of the
"invader."  A few of our cavalry dashed in, and forded and swam the
stream, and all opposition was soon dispersed.  I do not remember that a
single shot was fired.

The troops waded the stream, which was up to their necks in the deepest
part.  Teams were crossed by attaching a long rope to the end of the
wagon tongue passing it between the two swing mules and by the side of
the leader, hitching his bridle as well as the bridle of the mules in
rear to it, and carrying the end to men on the opposite shore.  The bank
down to the water was steep on both sides.  A rope long enough to cross
the river, therefore, was attached to the back axle of the wagon, and
men behind would hold the rope to prevent the wagon "beating" the mules
into the water.  This latter rope also served the purpose of bringing
the end of the forward one back, to be used over again.  The water was
deep enough for a short distance to swim the little Mexican mules which
the army was then using, but they, and the wagons, were pulled through
so fast by the men at the end of the rope ahead, that no time was left
them to show their obstinacy.  In this manner the artillery and
transportation of the "army of occupation" crossed the Colorado River.

About the middle of the month of March the advance of the army reached
the Rio Grande and went into camp near the banks of the river, opposite
the city of Matamoras and almost under the guns of a small fort at the
lower end of the town.  There was not at that time a single habitation
from Corpus Christi until the Rio Grande was reached.

The work of fortifying was commenced at once.  The fort was laid out by
the engineers, but the work was done by the soldiers under the
supervision of their officers, the chief engineer retaining general
directions.  The Mexicans now became so incensed at our near approach
that some of their troops crossed the river above us, and made it unsafe
for small bodies of men to go far beyond the limits of camp.  They
captured two companies of dragoons, commanded by Captains Thornton and
Hardee.  The latter figured as a general in the late war, on the
Confederate side, and was author of the tactics first used by both
armies.  Lieutenant Theodric Porter, of the 4th infantry, was killed
while out with a small detachment; and Major Cross, the assistant
quartermaster-general, had also been killed not far from camp.

There was no base of supplies nearer than Point Isabel, on the coast,
north of the mouth of the Rio Grande and twenty-five miles away.  The
enemy, if the Mexicans could be called such at this time when no war had
been declared, hovered about in such numbers that it was not safe to
send a wagon train after supplies with any escort that could be spared.
I have already said that General Taylor's whole command on the Rio
Grande numbered less than three thousand men.  He had, however, a few
more troops at Point Isabel or Brazos Santiago.  The supplies brought
from Corpus Christi in wagons were running short.  Work was therefore
pushed with great vigor on the defences, to enable the minimum number of
troops to hold the fort.  All the men who could be employed, were kept
at work from early dawn until darkness closed the labors of the day.
With all this the fort was not completed until the supplies grew so
short that further delay in obtaining more could not be thought of.  By
the latter part of April the work was in a partially defensible
condition, and the 7th infantry, Major Jacob Brown commanding, was
marched in to garrison it, with some few pieces of artillery.  All the
supplies on hand, with the exception of enough to carry the rest of the
army to Point Isabel, were left with the garrison, and the march was
commenced with the remainder of the command, every wagon being taken
with the army.  Early on the second day after starting the force reached
its destination, without opposition from the Mexicans.  There was some
delay in getting supplies ashore from vessels at anchor in the open
roadstead.



CHAPTER VII.

THE MEXICAN WAR--THE BATTLE OF PALO ALTO--THE BATTLE OF RESACA DE LA
PALMA--ARMY OF INVASION--GENERAL TAYLOR--MOVEMENT ON CAMARGO.

While General Taylor was away with the bulk of his army, the little
garrison up the river was besieged.  As we lay in our tents upon the
sea-shore, the artillery at the fort on the Rio Grande could be
distinctly heard.

The war had begun.

There were no possible means of obtaining news from the garrison, and
information from outside could not be otherwise than unfavorable.  What
General Taylor's feelings were during this suspense I do not know; but
for myself, a young second-lieutenant who had never heard a hostile gun
before, I felt sorry that I had enlisted.  A great many men, when they
smell battle afar off, chafe to get into the fray.  When they say so
themselves they generally fail to convince their hearers that they are
as anxious as they would like to make believe, and as they approach
danger they become more subdued.  This rule is not universal, for I have
known a few men who were always aching for a fight when there was no
enemy near, who were as good as their word when the battle did come.
But the number of such men is small.

On the 7th of May the wagons were all loaded and General Taylor started
on his return, with his army reinforced at Point Isabel, but still less
than three thousand strong, to relieve the garrison on the Rio Grande.
The road from Point Isabel to Matamoras is over an open, rolling,
treeless prairie, until the timber that borders the bank of the Rio
Grande is reached.  This river, like the Mississippi, flows through a
rich alluvial valley in the most meandering manner, running towards all
points of the compass at times within a few miles.  Formerly the river
ran by Resaca de la Palma, some four or five miles east of the present
channel.  The old bed of the river at Resaca had become filled at
places, leaving a succession of little lakes.  The timber that had
formerly grown upon both banks, and for a considerable distance out, was
still standing.  This timber was struck six or eight miles out from the
besieged garrison, at a point known as Palo Alto--"Tall trees" or
"woods."

Early in the forenoon of the 8th of May as Palo Alto was approached, an
army, certainly outnumbering our little force, was seen, drawn up in
line of battle just in front of the timber.  Their bayonets and
spearheads glistened in the sunlight formidably.  The force was composed
largely of cavalry armed with lances.  Where we were the grass was tall,
reaching nearly to the shoulders of the men, very stiff, and each stock
was pointed at the top, and hard and almost as sharp as a
darning-needle. General Taylor halted his army before the head of column
came in range of the artillery of the Mexicans.  He then formed a line
of battle, facing the enemy.  His artillery, two batteries and two
eighteen-pounder iron guns, drawn by oxen, were placed in position at
intervals along the line.  A battalion was thrown to the rear, commanded
by Lieutenant-Colonel Childs, of the artillery, as reserves.  These
preparations completed, orders were given for a platoon of each company
to stack arms and go to a stream off to the right of the command, to
fill their canteens and also those of the rest of their respective
companies.  When the men were all back in their places in line, the
command to advance was given.  As I looked down that long line of about
three thousand armed men, advancing towards a larger force also armed,
I thought what a fearful responsibility General Taylor must feel,
commanding such a host and so far away from friends.  The Mexicans
immediately opened fire upon us, first with artillery and then with
infantry.  At first their shots did not reach us, and the advance was
continued.  As we got nearer, the cannon balls commenced going through
the ranks.  They hurt no one, however, during this advance, because they
would strike the ground long before they reached our line, and
ricochetted through the tall grass so slowly that the men would see them
and open ranks and let them pass.  When we got to a point where the
artillery could be used with effect, a halt was called, and the battle
opened on both sides.

The infantry under General Taylor was armed with flint-lock muskets, and
paper cartridges charged with powder, buck-shot and ball.  At the
distance of a few hundred yards a man might fire at you all day without
your finding it out.  The artillery was generally six-pounder brass guns
throwing only solid shot; but General Taylor had with him three or four
twelve-pounder howitzers throwing shell, besides his eighteen-pounders
before spoken of, that had a long range.  This made a powerful armament.
The Mexicans were armed about as we were so far as their infantry was
concerned, but their artillery only fired solid shot.  We had greatly
the advantage in this arm.

The artillery was advanced a rod or two in front of the line, and opened
fire.  The infantry stood at order arms as spectators, watching the
effect of our shots upon the enemy, and watching his shots so as to step
out of their way.  It could be seen that the eighteen-pounders and the
howitzers did a great deal of execution.  On our side there was little
or no loss while we occupied this position.  During the battle Major
Ringgold, an accomplished and brave artillery officer, was mortally
wounded, and Lieutenant Luther, also of the artillery, was struck.
During the day several advances were made, and just at dusk it became
evident that the Mexicans were falling back. We again advanced, and
occupied at the close of the battle substantially the ground held by the
enemy at the beginning.  In this last move there was a brisk fire upon
our troops, and some execution was done.  One cannon-ball passed through
our ranks, not far from me.  It took off the head of an enlisted man,
and the under jaw of Captain Page of my regiment, while the splinters
from the musket of the killed soldier, and his brains and bones, knocked
down two or three others, including one officer, Lieutenant Wallen,
--hurting them more or less.  Our casualties for the day were nine killed
and forty-seven wounded.

At the break of day on the 9th, the army under Taylor was ready to renew
the battle; but an advance showed that the enemy had entirely left our
front during the night.  The chaparral before us was impenetrable except
where there were roads or trails, with occasionally clear or bare spots
of small dimensions.  A body of men penetrating it might easily be
ambushed.  It was better to have a few men caught in this way than the
whole army, yet it was necessary that the garrison at the river should
be relieved.  To get to them the chaparral had to be passed.  Thus I
assume General Taylor reasoned.  He halted the army not far in advance
of the ground occupied by the Mexicans the day before, and selected
Captain C. F. Smith, of the artillery, and Captain McCall, of my
company, to take one hundred and fifty picked men each and find where
the enemy had gone.  This left me in command of the company, an honor
and responsibility I thought very great.

Smith and McCall found no obstruction in the way of their advance until
they came up to the succession of ponds, before describes, at Resaca.
The Mexicans had passed them and formed their lines on the opposite
bank.  This position they had strengthened a little by throwing up dead
trees and brush in their front, and by placing artillery to cover the
approaches and open places.  Smith and McCall deployed on each side of
the road as well as they could, and engaged the enemy at long range.
Word was sent back, and the advance of the whole army was at once
commenced.  As we came up we were deployed in like manner.  I was with
the right wing, and led my company through the thicket wherever a
penetrable place could be found, taking advantage of any clear spot that
would carry me towards the enemy.  At last I got pretty close up without
knowing it.  The balls commenced to whistle very thick overhead, cutting
the limbs of the chaparral right and left.  We could not see the enemy,
so I ordered my men to lie down, an order that did not have to be
enforced.  We kept our position until it became evident that the enemy
were not firing at us, and then withdrew to find better ground to
advance upon.

By this time some progress had been made on our left.  A section of
artillery had been captured by the cavalry, and some prisoners had been
taken.  The Mexicans were giving way all along the line, and many of
them had, no doubt, left early.  I at last found a clear space
separating two ponds.  There seemed to be a few men in front and I
charged upon them with my company.

There was no resistance, and we captured a Mexican colonel, who had been
wounded, and a few men.  Just as I was sending them to the rear with a
guard of two or three men, a private came from the front bringing back
one of our officers, who had been badly wounded in advance of where I
was.  The ground had been charged over before.  My exploit was equal to
that of the soldier who boasted that he had cut off the leg of one of
the enemy.  When asked why he did not cut off his head, he replied:
"Some one had done that before."  This left no doubt in my mind but that
the battle of Resaca de la Palma would have been won, just as it was, if
I had not been there.  There was no further resistance. The evening of
the 9th the army was encamped on its old ground near the Fort, and the
garrison was relieved.  The siege had lasted a number of days, but the
casualties were few in number.  Major Jacob Brown, of the 7th infantry,
the commanding officer, had been killed, and in his honor the fort was
named. Since then a town of considerable importance has sprung up on the
ground occupied by the fort and troops, which has also taken his name.

The battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma seemed to us engaged, as
pretty important affairs; but we had only a faint conception of their
magnitude until they were fought over in the North by the Press and the
reports came back to us.  At the same time, or about the same time, we
learned that war existed between the United States and Mexico, by the
acts of the latter country.  On learning this fact General Taylor
transferred our camps to the south or west bank of the river, and
Matamoras was occupied.  We then became the "Army of Invasion."

Up to this time Taylor had none but regular troops in his command; but
now that invasion had already taken place, volunteers for one year
commenced arriving.  The army remained at Matamoras until sufficiently
reinforced to warrant a movement into the interior.  General Taylor was
not an officer to trouble the administration much with his demands, but
was inclined to do the best he could with the means given him.  He felt
his responsibility as going no further.  If he had thought that he was
sent to perform an impossibility with the means given him, he would
probably have informed the authorities of his opinion and left them to
determine what should be done.  If the judgment was against him he would
have gone on and done the best he could with the means at hand without
parading his grievance before the public.  No soldier could face either
danger or responsibility more calmly than he.  These are qualities more
rarely found than genius or physical courage.

General Taylor never made any great show or parade, either of uniform or
retinue.  In dress he was possibly too plain, rarely wearing anything in
the field to indicate his rank, or even that he was an officer; but he
was known to every soldier in his army, and was respected by all.  I can
call to mind only one instance when I saw him in uniform, and one other
when I heard of his wearing it, On both occasions he was unfortunate.
The first was at Corpus Christi.  He had concluded to review his army
before starting on the march and gave orders accordingly.  Colonel
Twiggs was then second in rank with the army, and to him was given the
command of the review.  Colonel and Brevet Brigadier-General Worth, a
far different soldier from Taylor in the use of the uniform, was next to
Twiggs in rank, and claimed superiority by virtue of his brevet rank
when the accidents of service threw them where one or the other had to
command.  Worth declined to attend the review as subordinate to Twiggs
until the question was settled by the highest authority.  This broke up
the review, and the question was referred to Washington for final
decision.

General Taylor was himself only a colonel, in real rank, at that time,
and a brigadier-general by brevet.  He was assigned to duty, however, by
the President, with the rank which his brevet gave him.  Worth was not
so assigned, but by virtue of commanding a division he must, under the
army regulations of that day, have drawn the pay of his brevet rank.
The question was submitted to Washington, and no response was received
until after the army had reached the Rio Grande.  It was decided against
General Worth, who at once tendered his resignation and left the army,
going north, no doubt, by the same vessel that carried it.  This kept
him out of the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma.  Either the
resignation was not accepted, or General Worth withdrew it before action
had been taken.  At all events he returned to the army in time to
command his division in the battle of Monterey, and served with it to
the end of the war.

The second occasion on which General Taylor was said to have donned his
uniform, was in order to receive a visit from the Flag Officer of the
naval squadron off the mouth of the Rio Grande.  While the army was on
that river the Flag Officer sent word that he would call on the General
to pay his respects on a certain day.  General Taylor, knowing that
naval officers habitually wore all the uniform the "law allowed" on all
occasions of ceremony, thought it would be only civil to receive his
guest in the same style.  His uniform was therefore got out, brushed up,
and put on, in advance of the visit.  The Flag Officer, knowing General
Taylor's aversion to the wearing of the uniform, and feeling that it
would be regarded as a compliment should he meet him in civilian's
dress, left off his uniform for this occasion.  The meeting was said to
have been embarrassing to both, and the conversation was principally
apologetic.

The time was whiled away pleasantly enough at Matamoras, while we were
waiting for volunteers.  It is probable that all the most important
people of the territory occupied by our army left their homes before we
got there, but with those remaining the best of relations apparently
existed.  It was the policy of the Commanding General to allow no
pillaging, no taking of private property for public or individual use
without satisfactory compensation, so that a better market was afforded
than the people had ever known before.

Among the troops that joined us at Matamoras was an Ohio regiment, of
which Thomas L. Hamer, the Member of Congress who had given me my
appointment to West Point, was major.  He told me then that he could
have had the colonelcy, but that as he knew he was to be appointed a
brigadier-general, he preferred at first to take the lower grade.  I
have said before that Hamer was one of the ablest men Ohio ever
produced.  At that time he was in the prime of life, being less than
fifty years of age, and possessed an admirable physique, promising long
life.  But he was taken sick before Monterey, and died within a few
days.  I have always believed that had his life been spared, he would
have been President of the United States during the term filled by
President Pierce.  Had Hamer filled that office his partiality for me
was such, there is but little doubt I should have been appointed to one
of the staff corps of the army--the Pay Department probably--and would
therefore now be preparing to retire.  Neither of these speculations is
unreasonable, and they are mentioned to show how little men control
their own destiny.

Reinforcements having arrived, in the month of August the movement
commenced from Matamoras to Camargo, the head of navigation on the Rio
Grande.  The line of the Rio Grande was all that was necessary to hold,
unless it was intended to invade Mexico from the North.  In that case
the most natural route to take was the one which General Taylor
selected.  It entered a pass in the Sierra Madre Mountains, at Monterey,
through which the main road runs to the City of Mexico.  Monterey itself
was a good point to hold, even if the line of the Rio Grande covered all
the territory we desired to occupy at that time.  It is built on a plain
two thousand feet above tide water, where the air is bracing and the
situation healthy.

On the 19th of August the army started for Monterey, leaving a small
garrison at Matamoras.  The troops, with the exception of the artillery,
cavalry, and the brigade to which I belonged, were moved up the river to
Camargo on steamers.  As there were but two or three of these, the boats
had to make a number of trips before the last of the troops were
up. Those who marched did so by the south side of the river.
Lieutenant-Colonel Garland, of the 4th infantry, was the brigade
commander, and on this occasion commanded the entire marching force.
One day out convinced him that marching by day in that latitude, in the
month of August, was not a beneficial sanitary measure, particularly for
Northern men.  The order of marching was changed and night marches were
substituted with the best results.

When Camargo was reached, we found a city of tents outside the Mexican
hamlet.  I was detailed to act as quartermaster and commissary to the
regiment.  The teams that had proven abundantly sufficient to transport
all supplies from Corpus Christi to the Rio Grande over the level
prairies of Texas, were entirely inadequate to the needs of the
reinforced army in a mountainous country.  To obviate the deficiency,
pack mules were hired, with Mexicans to pack and drive them.  I had
charge of the few wagons allotted to the 4th infantry and of the pack
train to supplement them.  There were not men enough in the army to
manage that train without the help of Mexicans who had learned how.  As
it was the difficulty was great enough.  The troops would take up their
march at an early hour each day.  After they had started, the tents and
cooking utensils had to be made into packages, so that they could be
lashed to the backs of the mules.  Sheet-iron kettles, tent-poles and
mess chests were inconvenient articles to transport in that way.  It
took several hours to get ready to start each morning, and by the time
we were ready some of the mules first loaded would be tired of standing
so long with their loads on their backs. Sometimes one would start to
run, bowing his back and kicking up until he scattered his load; others
would lie down and try to disarrange their loads by attempting to get on
the top of them by rolling on them; others with tent-poles for part of
their loads would manage to run a tent-pole on one side of a sapling
while they would take the other.  I am not aware of ever having used a
profane expletive in my life; but I would have the charity to excuse
those who may have done so, if they were in charge of a train of Mexican
pack mules at the time.



CHAPTER VIII.

ADVANCE ON MONTEREY--THE BLACK FORT--THE BATTLE OF MONTEREY--SURRENDER
OF THE CITY.

The advance from Camargo was commenced on the 5th of September. The army
was divided into four columns, separated from each other by one day's
march.  The advance reached Cerralvo in four days and halted for the
remainder of the troops to come up.  By the 13th the rear-guard had
arrived, and the same day the advance resumed its march, followed as
before, a day separating the divisions.  The forward division halted
again at Marin, twenty-four miles from Monterey.  Both this place and
Cerralvo were nearly deserted, and men, women and children were seen
running and scattered over the hills as we approached; but when the
people returned they found all their abandoned property safe, which must
have given them a favorable opinion of Los Grengos--"the Yankees."  From
Marin the movement was in mass. On the 19th General Taylor, with is
army, was encamped at Walnut Springs, within three miles of Monterey.

The town is on a small stream coming out of the mountain-pass, and is
backed by a range of hills of moderate elevation.  To the north, between
the city and Walnut Springs, stretches an extensive plain.  On this
plain, and entirely outside of the last houses of the city, stood a
strong fort, enclosed on all sides, to which our army gave the name of
"Black Fort."  Its guns commanded the approaches to the city to the full
extent of their range.  There were two detached spurs of hills or
mountains to the north and northwest of the city, which were also
fortified.  On one of these stood the Bishop's Palace.  The road to
Saltillo leaves the upper or western end of the city under the fire of
the guns from these heights.  The lower or eastern end was defended by
two or three small detached works, armed with artillery and infantry.
To the south was the mountain stream before mentioned, and back of that
the range of foot-hills.  The plaza in the centre of the city was the
citadel, properly speaking.  All the streets leading from it were swept
by artillery, cannon being intrenched behind temporary parapets. The
house-tops near the plaza were converted into infantry fortifications by
the use of sand-bags for parapets.  Such were the defences of Monterey
in September, 1847.  General Ampudia, with a force of certainly ten
thousand men, was in command.

General Taylor's force was about six thousand five hundred strong, in
three divisions, under Generals Butler, Twiggs and Worth.  The troops
went into camp at Walnut Springs, while the engineer officers, under
Major Mansfield--a General in the late war--commenced their
reconnoissance.  Major Mansfield found that it would be practicable to
get troops around, out of range of the Black Fort and the works on the
detached hills to the north-west of the city, to the Saltillo road.
With this road in our possession, the enemy would be cut off from
receiving further supplies, if not from all communication with the
interior. General Worth, with his division somewhat reinforced, was
given the task of gaining possession of the Saltillo road, and of
carrying the detached works outside the city, in that quarter. He
started on his march early in the afternoon of the 20th.  The divisions
under Generals Butler and Twiggs were drawn up to threaten the east and
north sides of the city and the works on those fronts, in support of the
movement under General Worth. Worth's was regarded as the main attack on
Monterey, and all other operations were in support of it.  His march
this day was uninterrupted; but the enemy was seen to reinforce heavily
about the Bishop's Palace and the other outside fortifications on their
left.  General Worth reached a defensible position just out of range of
the enemy's guns on the heights north-west of the city, and bivouacked
for the night.  The engineer officers with him--Captain Sanders and
Lieutenant George G. Meade, afterwards the commander of the victorious
National army at the battle of Gettysburg--made a reconnoissance to the
Saltillo road under cover of night.

During the night of the 20th General Taylor had established a battery,
consisting of two twenty-four-pounder howitzers and a ten inch mortar,
at a point from which they could play upon Black Fort.  A natural
depression in the plain, sufficiently deep to protect men standing in it
from the fire from the fort, was selected and the battery established on
the crest nearest the enemy.  The 4th infantry, then consisting of but
six reduced companies, was ordered to support the artillerists while
they were intrenching themselves and their guns.  I was regimental
quartermaster at the time and was ordered to remain in charge of camp
and the public property at Walnut Springs.  It was supposed that the
regiment would return to its camp in the morning.

The point for establishing the siege battery was reached and the work
performed without attracting the attention of the enemy.  At daylight
the next morning fire was opened on both sides and continued with, what
seemed to me at that day, great fury.  My curiosity got the better of my
judgment, and I mounted a horse and rode to the front to see what was
going on.  I had been there but a short time when an order to charge was
given, and lacking the moral courage to return to camp--where I had been
ordered to stay--I charged with the regiment As soon as the troops were
out of the depression they came under the fire of Black Fort.  As they
advanced they got under fire from batteries guarding the east, or lower,
end of the city, and of musketry. About one-third of the men engaged in
the charge were killed or wounded in the space of a few minutes.  We
retreated to get out of fire, not backward, but eastward and
perpendicular to the direct road running into the city from Walnut
Springs.  I was, I believe, the only person in the 4th infantry in the
charge who was on horseback.  When we got to a lace of safety the
regiment halted and drew itself together--what was left of it.  The
adjutant of the regiment, Lieutenant Hoskins, who was not in robust
health, found himself very much fatigued from running on foot in the
charge and retreat, and, seeing me on horseback, expressed a wish that
he could be mounted also.  I offered him my horse and he accepted the
offer.  A few minutes later I saw a soldier, a quartermaster's man,
mounted, not far away.  I ran to him, took his horse and was back with
the regiment in a few minutes.  In a short time we were off again; and
the next place of safety from the shots of the enemy that I recollect of
being in, was a field of cane or corn to the north-east of the lower
batteries.  The adjutant to whom I had loaned my horse was killed, and I
was designated to act in his place.

This charge was ill-conceived, or badly executed.  We belonged to the
brigade commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Garland, and he had received
orders to charge the lower batteries of the city, and carry them if he
could without too much loss, for the purpose of creating a diversion in
favor of Worth, who was conducting the movement which it was intended
should be decisive.  By a movement by the left flank Garland could have
led his men beyond the range of the fire from Black Fort and advanced
towards the northeast angle of the city, as well covered from fire as
could be expected.  There was no undue loss of life in reaching the
lower end of Monterey, except that sustained by Garland's command.

Meanwhile Quitman's brigade, conducted by an officer of engineers, had
reached the eastern end of the city, and was placed under cover of the
houses without much loss.  Colonel Garland's brigade also arrived at the
suburbs, and, by the assistance of some of our troops that had reached
house-tops from which they could fire into a little battery covering the
approaches to the lower end of the city, the battery was speedily
captured and its guns were turned upon another work of the enemy.  An
entrance into the east end of the city was now secured, and the houses
protected our troops so long as they were inactive.  On the west General
Worth had reached the Saltillo road after some fighting but without
heavy loss.  He turned from his new position and captured the forts on
both heights in that quarter.  This gave him possession of the upper or
west end of Monterey.  Troops from both Twiggs's and Butler's divisions
were in possession of the east end of the town, but the Black Fort to
the north of the town and the plaza in the centre were still in the
possession of the enemy.  Our camps at Walnut Springs, three miles away,
were guarded by a company from each regiment.  A regiment of Kentucky
volunteers guarded the mortars and howitzers engaged against Black Fort.
Practically Monterey was invested.

There was nothing done on the 22d by the United States troops; but the
enemy kept up a harmless fire upon us from Black Fort and the batteries
still in their possession at the east end of the city.  During the night
they evacuated these; so that on the morning of the 23d we held
undisputed possession of the east end of Monterey.

Twiggs's division was at the lower end of the city, and well covered
from the fire of the enemy.  But the streets leading to the plaza--all
Spanish or Spanish-American towns have near their centres a square
called a plaza--were commanded from all directions by artillery.  The
houses were flat-roofed and but one or two stories high, and about the
plaza the roofs were manned with infantry, the troops being protected
from our fire by parapets made of sand-bags.  All advances into the city
were thus attended with much danger.  While moving along streets which
did not lead to the plaza, our men were protected from the fire, and
from the view, of the enemy except at the crossings; but at these a
volley of musketry and a discharge of grape-shot were invariably
encountered.  The 3d and 4th regiments of infantry made an advance
nearly to the plaza in this way and with heavy loss.  The loss of the 3d
infantry in commissioned officers was especially severe.  There were
only five companies of the regiment and not over twelve officers
present, and five of these officers were killed.  When within a square
of the plaza this small command, ten companies in all, was brought to a
halt.  Placing themselves under cover from the shots of the enemy, the
men would watch to detect a head above the sand-bags on the neighboring
houses.  The exposure of a single head would bring a volley from our
soldiers.

We had not occupied this position long when it was discovered that our
ammunition was growing low.  I volunteered to go back (*2) to the point
we had started from, report our position to General Twiggs, and ask for
ammunition to be forwarded.  We were at this time occupying ground off
from the street, in rear of the houses.  My ride back was an exposed
one.  Before starting I adjusted myself on the side of my horse furthest
from the enemy, and with only one foot holding to the cantle of the
saddle, and an arm over the neck of the horse exposed, I started at full
run.  It was only at street crossings that my horse was under fire, but
these I crossed at such a flying rate that generally I was past and
under cover of the next block of houses before the enemy fired.  I got
out safely without a scratch.

At one place on my ride, I saw a sentry walking in front of a house, and
stopped to inquire what he was doing there.  Finding that the house was
full of wounded American officers and soldiers, I dismounted and went
in.  I found there Captain Williams, of the Engineer Corps, wounded in
the head, probably fatally, and Lieutenant Territt, also badly wounded
his bowels protruding from his wound.  There were quite a number of
soldiers also.  Promising them to report their situation, I left,
readjusted myself to my horse, recommenced the run, and was soon with
the troops at the east end.  Before ammunition could be collected, the
two regiments I had been with were seen returning, running the same
gauntlet in getting out that they had passed in going in, but with
comparatively little loss.  The movement was countermanded and the
troops were withdrawn.  The poor wounded officers and men I had found,
fell into the hands of the enemy during the night, and died.

While this was going on at the east, General Worth, with a small
division of troops, was advancing towards the plaza from the opposite
end of the city.  He resorted to a better expedient for getting to the
plaza--the citadel--than we did on the east. Instead of moving by the
open streets, he advanced through the houses, cutting passageways from
one to another.  Without much loss of life, he got so near the plaza
during the night that before morning, Ampudia, the Mexican commander,
made overtures for the surrender of the city and garrison.  This stopped
all further hostilities.  The terms of surrender were soon agreed upon.
The prisoners were paroled and permitted to take their horses and
personal property with them.

My pity was aroused by the sight of the Mexican garrison of Monterey
marching out of town as prisoners, and no doubt the same feeling was
experienced by most of our army who witnessed it.  Many of the prisoners
were cavalry, armed with lances, and mounted on miserable little
half-starved horses that did not look as if they could carry their
riders out of town.  The men looked in but little better condition.  I
thought how little interest the men before me had in the results of the
war, and how little knowledge they had of "what it was all about."

After the surrender of the garrison of Monterey a quiet camp life was
led until midwinter.  As had been the case on the Rio Grande, the people
who remained at their homes fraternized with the "Yankees" in the
pleasantest manner.  In fact, under the humane policy of our commander,
I question whether the great majority of the Mexican people did not
regret our departure as much as they had regretted our coming.  Property
and person were thoroughly protected, and a market was afforded for all
the products of the country such as the people had never enjoyed before.
The educated and wealthy portion of the population here, as elsewhere,
abandoned their homes and remained away from them as long as they were
in the possession of the invaders; but this class formed a very small
percentage of the whole population.



CHAPTER IX.

POLITICAL INTRIGUE--BUENA VISTA--MOVEMENT AGAINST VERA CRUZ--SIEGE AND
CAPTURE OF VERA CRUZ.

The Mexican war was a political war, and the administration conducting
it desired to make party capital out of it.  General Scott was at the
head of the army, and, being a soldier of acknowledged professional
capacity, his claim to the command of the forces in the field was almost
indisputable and does not seem to have been denied by President Polk, or
Marcy, his Secretary of War.  Scott was a Whig and the administration
was democratic.  General Scott was also known to have political
aspirations, and nothing so popularizes a candidate for high civil
positions as military victories.  It would not do therefore to give him
command of the "army of conquest."  The plans submitted by Scott for a
campaign in Mexico were disapproved by the administration, and he
replied, in a tone possibly a little disrespectful, to the effect that,
if a soldier's plans were not to be supported by the administration,
success could not be expected.  This was on the 27th of May, 1846.  Four
days later General Scott was notified that he need not go to Mexico.
General Gaines was next in rank, but he was too old and feeble to take
the field.  Colonel Zachary Taylor--a brigadier-general by brevet--was
therefore left in command.  He, too, was a Whig, but was not supposed to
entertain any political ambitions; nor did he; but after the fall of
Monterey, his third battle and third complete victory, the Whig papers
at home began to speak of him as the candidate of their party for the
Presidency.  Something had to be done to neutralize his growing
popularity.  He could not be relieved from duty in the field where all
his battles had been victories:  the design would have been too
transparent.  It was finally decided to send General Scott to Mexico in
chief command, and to authorize him to carry out his own original plan:
that is, capture Vera Cruz and march upon the capital of the country.
It was no doubt supposed that Scott's ambition would lead him to
slaughter Taylor or destroy his chances for the Presidency, and yet it
was hoped that he would not make sufficient capital himself to secure
the prize.

The administration had indeed a most embarrassing problem to solve.  It
was engaged in a war of conquest which must be carried to a successful
issue, or the political object would be unattained.  Yet all the capable
officers of the requisite rank belonged to the opposition, and the man
selected for his lack of political ambition had himself become a
prominent candidate for the Presidency.  It was necessary to destroy his
chances promptly.  The problem was to do this without the loss of
conquest and without permitting another general of the same political
party to acquire like popularity.  The fact is, the administration of
Mr. Polk made every preparation to disgrace Scott, or, to speak more
correctly, to drive him to such desperation that he would disgrace
himself.

General Scott had opposed conquest by the way of the Rio Grande,
Matamoras and Saltillo from the first.  Now that he was in command of
all the forces in Mexico, he withdrew from Taylor most of his regular
troops and left him only enough volunteers, as he thought, to hold the
line then in possession of the invading army.  Indeed Scott did not deem
it important to hold anything beyond the Rio Grande, and authorized
Taylor to fall back to that line if he chose.  General Taylor protested
against the depletion of his army, and his subsequent movement upon
Buena Vista would indicate that he did not share the views of his chief
in regard to the unimportance of conquest beyond the Rio Grande.

Scott had estimated the men and material that would be required to
capture Vera Cruz and to march on the capital of the country, two
hundred and sixty miles in the interior.  He was promised all he asked
and seemed to have not only the confidence of the President, but his
sincere good wishes.  The promises were all broken.  Only about half the
troops were furnished that had been pledged, other war material was
withheld and Scott had scarcely started for Mexico before the President
undertook to supersede him by the appointment of Senator Thomas H.
Benton as lieutenant-general.  This being refused by Congress, the
President asked legislative authority to place a junior over a senior of
the same grade, with the view of appointing Benton to the rank of
major-general and then placing him in command of the army, but Congress
failed to accede to this proposition as well, and Scott remained in
command: but every general appointed to serve under him was politically
opposed to the chief, and several were personally hostile.

General Scott reached Brazos Santiago or Point Isabel, at the mouth of
the Rio Grande, late in December, 1846, and proceeded at once up the
river to Camargo, where he had written General Taylor to meet him.
Taylor, however, had gone to, or towards Tampico, for the purpose of
establishing a post there.  He had started on this march before he was
aware of General Scott being in the country.  Under these circumstances
Scott had to issue his orders designating the troops to be withdrawn
from Taylor, without the personal consultation he had expected to hold
with his subordinate.

General Taylor's victory at Buena Vista, February 22d, 23d, and 24th,
1847, with an army composed almost entirely of volunteers who had not
been in battle before, and over a vastly superior force numerically,
made his nomination for the Presidency by the Whigs a foregone
conclusion.  He was nominated and elected in 1848.  I believe that he
sincerely regretted this turn in his fortunes, preferring the peace
afforded by a quiet life free from abuse to the honor of filling the
highest office in the gift of any people, the Presidency of the United
States.

When General Scott assumed command of the army of invasion, I was in the
division of General David Twiggs, in Taylor's command; but under the new
orders my regiment was transferred to the division of General William
Worth, in which I served to the close of the war.  The troops withdrawn
from Taylor to form part of the forces to operate against Vera Cruz,
were assembled at the mouth of the Rio Grande preparatory to embarkation
for their destination.  I found General Worth a different man from any I
had before served directly under.  He was nervous, impatient and
restless on the march, or when important or responsible duty confronted
him.  There was not the least reason for haste on the march, for it was
known that it would take weeks to assemble shipping enough at the point
of our embarkation to carry the army, but General Worth moved his
division with a rapidity that would have been commendable had he been
going to the relief of a beleaguered garrison.  The length of the
marches was regulated by the distances between places affording a supply
of water for the troops, and these distances were sometimes long and
sometimes short.  General Worth on one occasion at least, after having
made the full distance intended for the day, and after the troops were
in camp and preparing their food, ordered tents struck and made the
march that night which had been intended for the next day.  Some
commanders can move troops so as to get the maximum distance out of them
without fatigue, while others can wear them out in a few days without
accomplishing so much. General Worth belonged to this latter class.  He
enjoyed, however, a fine reputation for his fighting qualities, and thus
attached his officers and men to him.

The army lay in camp upon the sand-beach in the neighborhood of the
mouth of the Rio Grande for several weeks, awaiting the arrival of
transports to carry it to its new field of operations.  The transports
were all sailing vessels.  The passage was a tedious one, and many of
the troops were on shipboard over thirty days from the embarkation at
the mouth of the Rio Grande to the time of debarkation south of Vera
Cruz. The trip was a comfortless one for officers and men.  The
transports used were built for carrying freight and possessed but
limited accommodations for passengers, and the climate added to the
discomfort of all.

The transports with troops were assembled in the harbor of Anton
Lizardo, some sixteen miles south of Vera Cruz, as they arrived, and
there awaited the remainder of the fleet, bringing artillery, ammunition
and supplies of all kinds from the North.  With the fleet there was a
little steam propeller dispatch-boat--the first vessel of the kind I had
ever seen, and probably the first of its kind ever seen by any one then
with the army.  At that day ocean steamers were rare, and what there
were were sidewheelers.  This little vessel, going through the fleet so
fast, so noiselessly and with its propeller under water out of view,
attracted a great deal of attention.  I recollect that Lieutenant Sidney
Smith, of the 4th infantry, by whom I happened to be standing on the
deck of a vessel when this propeller was passing, exclaimed, "Why, the
thing looks as if it was propelled by the force of circumstances."

Finally on the 7th of March, 1847, the little army of ten or twelve
thousand men, given Scott to invade a country with a population of seven
or eight millions, a mountainous country affording the greatest possible
natural advantages for defence, was all assembled and ready to commence
the perilous task of landing from vessels lying in the open sea.

The debarkation took place inside of the little island of Sacrificios,
some three miles south of Vera Cruz.  The vessels could not get anywhere
near shore, so that everything had to be landed in lighters or
surf-boats; General Scott had provided these before leaving the North.
The breakers were sometimes high, so that the landing was tedious.  The
men were got ashore rapidly, because they could wade when they came to
shallow water; but the camp and garrison equipage, provisions,
ammunition and all stores had to be protected from the salt water, and
therefore their landing took several days.  The Mexicans were very kind
to us, however, and threw no obstacles in the way of our landing except
an occasional shot from their nearest fort.  During the debarkation one
shot took off the head of Major Albertis.  No other, I believe, reached
anywhere near the same distance.  On the 9th of March the troops were
landed and the investment of Vera Cruz, from the Gulf of Mexico south of
the city to the Gulf again on the north, was soon and easily effected.
The landing of stores was continued until everything was got ashore.

Vera Cruz, at the time of which I write and up to 1880, was a walled
city.  The wall extended from the water's edge south of the town to the
water again on the north.  There were fortifications at intervals along
the line and at the angles. In front of the city, and on an island half
a mile out in the Gulf, stands San Juan de Ulloa, an enclosed
fortification of large dimensions and great strength for that period.
Against artillery of the present day the land forts and walls would
prove elements of weakness rather than strength.  After the invading
army had established their camps out of range of the fire from the city,
batteries were established, under cover of night, far to the front of
the line where the troops lay.  These batteries were intrenched and the
approaches sufficiently protected.  If a sortie had been made at any
time by the Mexicans, the men serving the batteries could have been
quickly reinforced without great exposure to the fire from the enemy's
main line.  No serious attempt was made to capture the batteries or to
drive our troops away.

The siege continued with brisk firing on our side till the 27th of
March, by which time a considerable breach had been made in the wall
surrounding the city.  Upon this General Morales, who was Governor of
both the city and of San Juan de Ulloa, commenced a correspondence with
General Scott looking to the surrender of the town, forts and garrison.
On the 29th Vera Cruz and San Juan de Ulloa were occupied by Scott's
army.  About five thousand prisoners and four hundred pieces of
artillery, besides large amounts of small arms and ammunition, fell into
the hands of the victorious force.  The casualties on our side during
the siege amounted to sixty-four officers and men, killed and wounded.



CHAPTER X.

MARCH TO JALAPA--BATTLE OF CERRO GORDO--PEROTE--PUEBLA--SCOTT AND
TAYLOR.

General Scott had less than twelve thousand men at Vera Cruz. He had
been promised by the administration a very much larger force, or claimed
that he had, and he was a man of veracity. Twelve thousand was a very
small army with which to penetrate two hundred and sixty miles into an
enemy's country, and to besiege the capital; a city, at that time, of
largely over one hundred thousand inhabitants.  Then, too, any line of
march that could be selected led through mountain passes easily
defended. In fact, there were at that time but two roads from Vera Cruz
to the City of Mexico that could be taken by an army; one by Jalapa and
Perote, the other by Cordova and Orizaba, the two coming together on the
great plain which extends to the City of Mexico after the range of
mountains is passed.

It was very important to get the army away from Vera Cruz as soon as
possible, in order to avoid the yellow fever, or vomito, which usually
visits that city early in the year, and is very fatal to persons not
acclimated; but transportation, which was expected from the North, was
arriving very slowly.  It was absolutely necessary to have enough to
supply the army to Jalapa, sixty-five miles in the interior and above
the fevers of the coast.  At that point the country is fertile, and an
army of the size of General Scott's could subsist there for an
indefinite period.  Not counting the sick, the weak and the garrisons
for the captured city and fort, the moving column was now less than ten
thousand strong.  This force was composed of three divisions, under
Generals Twiggs, Patterson, and Worth. The importance of escaping the
vomito was so great that as soon as transportation enough could be got
together to move a division the advance was commenced.  On the 8th of
April, Twiggs's division started for Jalapa.  He was followed very soon
by Patterson, with his division.  General Worth was to bring up the rear
with his command as soon as transportation enough was assembled to carry
six days' rations for his troops with the necessary ammunition and camp
and garrison equipage.  It was the 13th of April before this division
left Vera Cruz.

The leading division ran against the enemy at Cerro Gordo, some fifty
miles west, on the road to Jalapa, and went into camp at Plan del Rio,
about three miles from the fortifications. General Patterson reached
Plan del Rio with his division soon after Twiggs arrived.  The two were
then secure against an attack from Santa Anna, who commanded the Mexican
forces.  At all events they confronted the enemy without reinforcements
and without molestation, until the 18th of April.  General Scott had
remained at Vera Cruz to hasten preparations for the field; but on the
12th, learning the situation at the front, he hastened on to take
personal supervision.  He at once commenced his preparations for the
capture of the position held by Santa Anna and of the troops holding it.

Cerro Gordo is one of the higher spurs of the mountains some twelve to
fifteen miles east of Jalapa, and Santa Anna had selected this point as
the easiest to defend against an invading army.  The road, said to have
been built by Cortez, zigzags around the mountain-side and was defended
at every turn by artillery.  On either side were deep chasms or mountain
walls. A direct attack along the road was an impossibility.  A flank
movement seemed equally impossible.  After the arrival of the
commanding-general upon the scene, reconnoissances were sent out to
find, or to make, a road by which the rear of the enemy's works might be
reached without a front attack.  These reconnoissances were made under
the supervision of Captain Robert E. Lee, assisted by Lieutenants P. G.
T. Beauregard, Isaac I. Stevens, Z. B. Tower, G. W. Smith, George B.
McClellan, and J. G. Foster, of the corps of engineers, all officers who
attained rank and fame, on one side or the other, in the great conflict
for the preservation of the unity of the nation.  The reconnoissance was
completed, and the labor of cutting out and making roads by the flank of
the enemy was effected by the 17th of the month.  This was accomplished
without the knowledge of Santa Anna or his army, and over ground where
he supposed it impossible.  On the same day General Scott issued his
order for the attack on the 18th.

The attack was made as ordered, and perhaps there was not a battle of
the Mexican war, or of any other, where orders issued before an
engagement were nearer being a correct report of what afterwards took
place.  Under the supervision of the engineers, roadways had been opened
over chasms to the right where the walls were so steep that men could
barely climb them.  Animals could not.  These had been opened under
cover of night, without attracting the notice of the enemy.  The
engineers, who had directed the opening, led the way and the troops
followed. Artillery was let down the steep <DW72>s by hand, the men
engaged attaching a strong rope to the rear axle and letting the guns
down, a piece at a time, while the men at the ropes kept their ground on
top, paying out gradually, while a few at the front directed the course
of the piece.  In like manner the guns were drawn by hand up the
opposite <DW72>s.  In this way Scott's troops reached their assigned
position in rear of most of the intrenchments of the enemy, unobserved.
The attack was made, the Mexican reserves behind the works beat a hasty
retreat, and those occupying them surrendered.  On the left General
Pillow's command made a formidable demonstration, which doubtless held a
part of the enemy in his front and contributed to the victory. I am not
pretending to give full details of all the battles fought, but of the
portion that I saw.  There were troops engaged on both sides at other
points in which both sustained losses; but the battle was won as here
narrated.

The surprise of the enemy was complete, the victory overwhelming; some
three thousand prisoners fell into Scott's hands, also a large amount of
ordnance and ordnance stores.  The prisoners were paroled, the artillery
parked and the small arms and ammunition destroyed.  The battle of Buena
Vista was probably very important to the success of General Scott at
Cerro Gordo and in his entire campaign from Vera Cruz to the great
plains reaching to the City of Mexico.  The only army Santa Anna had to
protect his capital and the mountain passes west of Vera Cruz, was the
one he had with him confronting General Taylor. It is not likely that he
would have gone as far north as Monterey to attack the United States
troops when he knew his country was threatened with invasion further
south.  When Taylor moved to Saltillo and then advanced on to Buena
Vista, Santa Anna crossed the desert confronting the invading army,
hoping no doubt to crush it and get back in time to meet General Scott
in the mountain passes west of Vera Cruz.  His attack on Taylor was
disastrous to the Mexican army, but, notwithstanding this, he marched
his army to Cerro Gordo, a distance not much short of one thousand miles
by the line he had to travel, in time to intrench himself well before
Scott got there.  If he had been successful at Buena Vista his troops
would no doubt have made a more stubborn resistance at Cerro Gordo.  Had
the battle of Buena Vista not been fought Santa Anna would have had time
to move leisurely to meet the invader further south and with an army not
demoralized nor depleted by defeat.

After the battle the victorious army moved on to Jalapa, where it was in
a beautiful, productive and healthy country, far above the fevers of the
coast.  Jalapa, however, is still in the mountains, and between there
and the great plain the whole line of the road is easy of defence.  It
was important, therefore, to get possession of the great highway between
the sea-coast and the capital up to the point where it leaves the
mountains, before the enemy could have time to re-organize and fortify
in our front. Worth's division was selected to go forward to secure this
result.  The division marched to Perote on the great plain, not far from
where the road debouches from the mountains.  There is a low, strong
fort on the plain in front of the town, known as the Castle of Perote.
This, however, offered no resistance and fell into our hands, with its
armament.

General Scott having now only nine or ten thousand men west of Vera
Cruz, and the time of some four thousand of them being about to expire,
a long delay was the consequence.  The troops were in a healthy climate,
and where they could subsist for an indefinite period even if their line
back to Vera Cruz should be cut off.  It being ascertained that the men
whose time would expire before the City of Mexico could possibly fall
into the hands of the American army, would not remain beyond the term
for which they had volunteered, the commanding-general determined to
discharge them at once, for a delay until the expiration of their time
would have compelled them to pass through Vera Cruz during the season of
the vomito.  This reduced Scott's force in the field to about five
thousand men.

Early in May, Worth, with his division, left Perote and marched on to
Puebla.  The roads were wide and the country open except through one
pass in a spur of mountains coming up from the south, through which the
road runs.  Notwithstanding this the small column was divided into two
bodies, moving a day apart. Nothing occurred on the march of special
note, except that while lying at the town of Amozoque--an easy day's
march east of Puebla--a body of the enemy's cavalry, two or three
thousand strong, was seen to our right, not more than a mile away.  A
battery or two, with two or three infantry regiments, was sent against
them and they soon disappeared.  On the 15th of May we entered the city
of Puebla.

General Worth was in command at Puebla until the latter end of May, when
General Scott arrived.  Here, as well as on the march up, his
restlessness, particularly under responsibilities, showed itself.
During his brief command he had the enemy hovering around near the city,
in vastly superior numbers to his own.  The brigade to which I was
attached changed quarters three different times in about a week,
occupying at first quarters near the plaza, in the heart of the city;
then at the western entrance; then at the extreme east.  On one occasion
General Worth had the troops in line, under arms, all day, with three
days' cooked rations in their haversacks.  He galloped from one command
to another proclaiming the near proximity of Santa Anna with an army
vastly superior to his own.  General Scott arrived upon the scene the
latter part of the month, and nothing more was heard of Santa Anna and
his myriads.  There were, of course, bodies of mounted Mexicans hovering
around to watch our movements and to pick up stragglers, or small bodies
of troops, if they ventured too far out.  These always withdrew on the
approach of any considerable number of our soldiers.  After the arrival
of General Scott I was sent, as quartermaster, with a large train of
wagons, back two days' march at least, to procure forage.  We had less
than a thousand men as escort, and never thought of danger.  We procured
full loads for our entire train at two plantations, which could easily
have furnished as much more.

There had been great delay in obtaining the authority of Congress for
the raising of the troops asked for by the administration.  A bill was
before the National Legislature from early in the session of 1846-7,
authorizing the creation of ten additional regiments for the war to be
attached to the regular army, but it was the middle of February before
it became a law.  Appointments of commissioned officers had then to be
made; men had to be enlisted, the regiments equipped and the whole
transported to Mexico.  It was August before General Scott received
reinforcement sufficient to warrant an advance.  His moving column, not
even now more than ten thousand strong, was in four divisions, commanded
by Generals Twiggs, Worth, Pillow and Quitman.  There was also a cavalry
corps under General Harney, composed of detachments of the 1st, 2d, and
3d dragoons.  The advance commenced on the 7th of August with Twiggs's
division in front.  The remaining three divisions followed, with an
interval of a day between.  The marches were short, to make
concentration easier in case of attack.

I had now been in battle with the two leading commanders conducting
armies in a foreign land.  The contrast between the two was very marked.
General Taylor never wore uniform, but dressed himself entirely for
comfort.  He moved about the field in which he was operating to see
through his own eyes the situation.  Often he would be without staff
officers, and when he was accompanied by them there was no prescribed
order in which they followed.  He was very much given to sit his horse
side-ways--with both feet on one side--particularly on the battlefield.
General Scott was the reverse in all these particulars.  He always wore
all the uniform prescribed or allowed by law when he inspected his
lines; word would be sent to all division and brigade commanders in
advance, notifying them of the hour when the commanding general might be
expected.  This was done so that all the army might be under arms to
salute their chief as he passed.  On these occasions he wore his dress
uniform, cocked hat, aiguillettes, sabre and spurs.  His staff proper,
besides all officers constructively on his staff--engineers, inspectors,
quartermasters, etc., that could be spared--followed, also in uniform
and in prescribed order.  Orders were prepared with great care and
evidently with the view that they should be a history of what followed.

In their modes of expressing thought, these two generals contrasted
quite as strongly as in their other characteristics.  General Scott was
precise in language, cultivated a style peculiarly his own; was proud of
his rhetoric; not averse to speaking of himself, often in the third
person, and he could bestow praise upon the person he was talking about
without the least embarrassment.  Taylor was not a conversationalist,
but on paper he could put his meaning so plainly that there could be no
mistaking it.  He knew how to express what he wanted to say in the
fewest well-chosen words, but would not sacrifice meaning to the
construction of high-sounding sentences.  But with their opposite
characteristics both were great and successful soldiers; both were true,
patriotic and upright in all their dealings.  Both were pleasant to
serve under--Taylor was pleasant to serve with.  Scott saw more through
the eyes of his staff officers than through his own.  His plans were
deliberately prepared, and fully expressed in orders.  Taylor saw for
himself, and gave orders to meet the emergency without reference to how
they would read in history.



CHAPTER XI.

ADVANCE ON THE CITY OF MEXICO--BATTLE OF CONTRERAS--ASSAULT AT
CHURUBUSCO--NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE--BATTLE OF MOLINO DEL REY--STORMING
OF CHAPULTEPEC--SAN COSME--EVACUATION OF THE CITY--HALLS OF THE
MONTEZUMAS.

The route followed by the army from Puebla to the City of Mexico was
over Rio Frio mountain, the road leading over which, at the highest
point, is about eleven thousand feet above tide water. The pass through
this mountain might have been easily defended, but it was not; and the
advanced division reached the summit in three days after leaving Puebla.
The City of Mexico lies west of Rio Frio mountain, on a plain backed by
another mountain six miles farther west, with others still nearer on the
north and south.  Between the western base of Rio Frio and the City of
Mexico there are three lakes, Chalco and Xochimilco on the left and
Texcoco on the right, extending to the east end of the City of Mexico.
Chalco and Texcoco are divided by a narrow strip of land over which the
direct road to the city runs.  Xochimilco is also to the left of the
road, but at a considerable distance south of it, and is connected with
Lake Chalco by a narrow channel.  There is a high rocky mound, called El
Penon, on the right of the road, springing up from the low flat ground
dividing the lakes.  This mound was strengthened by intrenchments at its
base and summit, and rendered a direct attack impracticable.

Scott's army was rapidly concentrated about Ayotla and other points near
the eastern end of Lake Chalco.  Reconnoissances were made up to within
gun-shot of El Penon, while engineers were seeking a route by the south
side of Lake Chalco to flank the city, and come upon it from the south
and south-west.  A way was found around the lake, and by the 18th of
August troops were in St. Augustin Tlalpam, a town about eleven miles
due south from the plaza of the capital.  Between St. Augustin Tlalpam
and the city lie the hacienda of San Antonio and the village of
Churubusco, and south-west of them is Contreras.  All these points,
except St. Augustin Tlalpam, were intrenched and strongly garrisoned.
Contreras is situated on the side of a mountain, near its base, where
volcanic rocks are piled in great confusion, reaching nearly to San
Antonio.  This made the approach to the city from the south very
difficult.

The brigade to which I was attached--Garland's, of Worth's division--was
sent to confront San Antonio, two or three miles from St. Augustin
Tlalpam, on the road to Churubusco and the City of Mexico.  The ground
on which San Antonio stands is completely in the valley, and the surface
of the land is only a little above the level of the lakes, and, except
to the south-west, it was cut up by deep ditches filled with water.  To
the south-west is the Pedregal--the volcanic rock before spoken of--over
which cavalry or artillery could not be passed, and infantry would make
but poor progress if confronted by an enemy.  From the position occupied
by Garland's brigade, therefore, no movement could be made against the
defences of San Antonio except to the front, and by a narrow causeway,
over perfectly level ground, every inch of which was commanded by the
enemy's artillery and infantry.  If Contreras, some three miles west and
south, should fall into our hands, troops from there could move to the
right flank of all the positions held by the enemy between us and the
city.  Under these circumstances General Scott directed the holding of
the front of the enemy without making an attack until further orders.

On the 18th of August, the day of reaching San Augustin Tlalpam,
Garland's brigade secured a position within easy range of the advanced
intrenchments of San Antonio, but where his troops were protected by an
artificial embankment that had been thrown up for some other purpose
than defense.  General Scott at once set his engineers reconnoitring the
works about Contreras, and on the 19th movements were commenced to get
troops into positions from which an assault could be made upon the force
occupying that place.  The Pedregal on the north and north-east, and the
mountain on the south, made the passage by either flank of the enemy's
defences difficult, for their work stood exactly between those natural
bulwarks; but a road was completed during the day and night of the 19th,
and troops were got to the north and west of the enemy.

This affair, like that of Cerro Gordo, was an engagement in which the
officers of the engineer corps won special distinction.  In fact, in
both cases, tasks which seemed difficult at first sight were made easier
for the troops that had to execute them than they would have been on an
ordinary field.  The very strength of each of these positions was, by
the skill of the engineers, converted into a defence for the assaulting
parties while securing their positions for final attack.  All the troops
with General Scott in the valley of Mexico, except a part of the
division of General Quitman at San Augustin Tlalpam and the brigade of
Garland (Worth's division) at San Antonio, were engaged at the battle of
Contreras, or were on their way, in obedience to the orders of their
chief, to reinforce those who were engaged.  The assault was made on the
morning of the 20th, and in less than half an hour from the sound of the
advance the position was in our hands, with many prisoners and large
quantities of ordnance and other stores. The brigade commanded by
General Riley was from its position the most conspicuous in the final
assault, but all did well, volunteers and regulars.

From the point occupied by Garland's brigade we could see the progress
made at Contreras and the movement of troops toward the flank and rear
of the enemy opposing us.  The Mexicans all the way back to the city
could see the same thing, and their conduct showed plainly that they did
not enjoy the sight.  We moved out at once, and found them gone from our
immediate front.  Clarke's brigade of Worth's division now moved west
over the point of the Pedregal, and after having passed to the north
sufficiently to clear San Antonio, turned east and got on the causeway
leading to Churubusco and the City of Mexico.  When he approached
Churubusco his left, under Colonel Hoffman, attacked a tete-de-pont at
that place and brought on an engagement.  About an hour after, Garland
was ordered to advance directly along the causeway, and got up in time
to take part in the engagement.  San Antonio was found evacuated, the
evacuation having probably taken place immediately upon the enemy seeing
the stars and stripes waving over Contreras.

The troops that had been engaged at Contreras, and even then on their
way to that battle-field, were moved by a causeway west of, and parallel
to the one by way of San Antonio and Churubusco.  It was expected by the
commanding general that these troops would move north sufficiently far
to flank the enemy out of his position at Churubusco, before turning
east to reach the San Antonio road, but they did not succeed in this,
and Churubusco proved to be about the severest battle fought in the
valley of Mexico.  General Scott coming upon the battle-field about this
juncture, ordered two brigades, under Shields, to move north and turn
the right of the enemy.  This Shields did, but not without hard fighting
and heavy loss.  The enemy finally gave way, leaving in our hands
prisoners, artillery and small arms.  The balance of the causeway held
by the enemy, up to the very gates of the city, fell in like manner.  I
recollect at this place that some of the gunners who had stood their
ground, were deserters from General Taylor's army on the Rio Grande.

Both the strategy and tactics displayed by General Scott in these
various engagements of the 20th of August, 1847, were faultless as I
look upon them now, after the lapse of so many years.  As before stated,
the work of the engineer officers who made the reconnoissances and led
the different commands to their destinations, was so perfect that the
chief was able to give his orders to his various subordinates with all
the precision he could use on an ordinary march.  I mean, up to the
points from which the attack was to commence.  After that point is
reached the enemy often induces a change of orders not before
contemplated.  The enemy outside the city outnumbered our soldiery quite
three to one, but they had become so demoralized by the succession of
defeats this day, that the City of Mexico could have been entered
without much further bloodshed.  In fact, Captain Philip Kearney
--afterwards a general in the war of the rebellion--rode with a squadron
of cavalry to the very gates of the city, and would no doubt have
entered with his little force, only at that point he was badly wounded,
as were several of his officers.  He had not heard the call for a halt.

General Franklin Pierce had joined the army in Mexico, at Puebla, a
short time before the advance upon the capital commenced.  He had
consequently not been in any of the engagements of the war up to the
battle of Contreras.  By an unfortunate fall of his horse on the
afternoon of the 19th he was painfully injured.  The next day, when his
brigade, with the other troops engaged on the same field, was ordered
against the flank and rear of the enemy guarding the different points of
the road from San Augustin Tlalpam to the city, General Pierce attempted
to accompany them.  He was not sufficiently recovered to do so, and
fainted.  This circumstance gave rise to exceedingly unfair and unjust
criticisms of him when he became a candidate for the Presidency.
Whatever General Pierce's qualifications may have been for the
Presidency, he was a gentleman and a man of courage.  I was not a
supporter of him politically, but I knew him more intimately than I did
any other of the volunteer generals.

General Scott abstained from entering the city at this time, because Mr.
Nicholas P. Trist, the commissioner on the part of the United States to
negotiate a treaty of peace with Mexico, was with the army, and either
he or General Scott thought--probably both of them--that a treaty would
be more possible while the Mexican government was in possession of the
capital than if it was scattered and the capital in the hands of an
invader.  Be this as it may, we did not enter at that time. The army
took up positions along the <DW72>s of the mountains south of the city,
as far west as Tacubaya.  Negotiations were at once entered into with
Santa Anna, who was then practically THE GOVERNMENT and the immediate
commander of all the troops engaged in defence of the country.  A truce
was signed which denied to either party the right to strengthen its
position, or to receive reinforcements during the continuance of the
armistices, but authorized General Scott to draw supplies for his army
from the city in the meantime.

Negotiations were commenced at once and were kept up vigorously between
Mr. Trist and the commissioners appointed on the part of Mexico, until
the 2d of September.  At that time Mr. Trist handed in his ultimatum.
Texas was to be given up absolutely by Mexico, and New Mexico and
California ceded to the United States for a stipulated sum to be
afterwards determined.  I do not suppose Mr. Trist had any discretion
whatever in regard to boundaries. The war was one of conquest, in the
interest of an institution, and the probabilities are that private
instructions were for the acquisition of territory out of which new
States might be carved.  At all events the Mexicans felt so outraged at
the terms proposed that they commenced preparations for defence, without
giving notice of the termination of the armistice.  The terms of the
truce had been violated before, when teams had been sent into the city
to bring out supplies for the army.  The first train entering the city
was very severely threatened by a mob. This, however, was apologized for
by the authorities and all responsibility for it denied; and thereafter,
to avoid exciting the Mexican people and soldiery, our teams with their
escorts were sent in at night, when the troops were in barracks and the
citizens in bed.  The circumstance was overlooked and negotiations
continued.  As soon as the news reached General Scott of the second
violation of the armistice, about the 4th of September, he wrote a
vigorous note to President Santa Anna, calling his attention to it, and,
receiving an unsatisfactory reply, declared the armistice at an end.

General Scott, with Worth's division, was now occupying Tacubaya, a
village some four miles south-west of the City of Mexico, and extending
from the base up the mountain-side for the distance of half a mile.
More than a mile west, and also a little above the plain, stands Molino
del Rey.  The mill is a long stone structure, one story high and several
hundred feet in length.  At the period of which I speak General Scott
supposed a portion of the mill to be used as a foundry for the casting
of guns.  This, however, proved to be a mistake.  It was valuable to the
Mexicans because of the quantity of grain it contained. The building is
flat roofed, and a line of sand-bags over the outer walls rendered the
top quite a formidable defence for infantry.  Chapultepec is a mound
springing up from the plain to the height of probably three hundred
feet, and almost in a direct line between Molino del Rey and the western
part of the city.  It was fortified both on the top and on the rocky and
precipitous sides.

The City of Mexico is supplied with water by two aqueducts, resting on
strong stone arches.  One of these aqueducts draws its supply of water
from a mountain stream coming into it at or near Molino del Rey, and
runs north close to the west base of Chapultepec; thence along the
centre of a wide road, until it reaches the road running east into the
city by the Garita San Cosme; from which point the aqueduct and road
both run east to the city.  The second aqueduct starts from the east
base of Chapultepec, where it is fed by a spring, and runs north-east to
the city.  This aqueduct, like the other, runs in the middle of a broad
road-way, thus leaving a space on each side.  The arches supporting the
aqueduct afforded protection for advancing troops as well as to those
engaged defensively.  At points on the San Cosme road parapets were
thrown across, with an embrasure for a single piece of artillery in
each.  At the point where both road and aqueduct turn at right angles
from north to east, there was not only one of these parapets supplied by
one gun and infantry supports, but the houses to the north of the San
Cosme road, facing south and commanding a view of the road back to
Chapultepec, were covered with infantry, protected by parapets made of
sandbags.  The roads leading to garitas (the gates) San Cosme and Belen,
by which these aqueducts enter the city, were strongly intrenched.
Deep, wide ditches, filled with water, lined the sides of both roads.
Such were the defences of the City of Mexico in September, 1847, on the
routes over which General Scott entered.

Prior to the Mexican war General Scott had been very partial to General
Worth--indeed he continued so up to the close of hostilities--but, for
some reason, Worth had become estranged from his chief.  Scott evidently
took this coldness somewhat to heart.  He did not retaliate, however,
but on the contrary showed every disposition to appease his subordinate.
It was understood at the time that he gave Worth authority to plan and
execute the battle of Molino del Rey without dictation or interference
from any one, for the very purpose of restoring their former relations.
The effort failed, and the two generals remained ever after cold and
indifferent towards each other, if not actually hostile.

The battle of Molino del Rey was fought on the 8th of September.  The
night of the 7th, Worth sent for his brigade and regimental commanders,
with their staffs, to come to his quarters to receive instructions for
the morrow.  These orders contemplated a movement up to within striking
distance of the Mills before daylight.  The engineers had reconnoitred
the ground as well as possible, and had acquired all the information
necessary to base proper orders both for approach and attack.

By daylight on the morning of the 8th, the troops to be engaged at
Molino were all at the places designated.  The ground in front of the
Mills, to the south, was commanded by the artillery from the summit of
Chapultepec as well as by the lighter batteries at hand; but a charge
was made, and soon all was over.  Worth's troops entered the Mills by
every door, and the enemy beat a hasty retreat back to Chapultepec.  Had
this victory been followed up promptly, no doubt Americans and Mexicans
would have gone over the defences of Chapultepec so near together that
the place would have fallen into our hands without further loss.  The
defenders of the works could not have fired upon us without endangering
their own men.  This was not done, and five days later more valuable
lives were sacrificed to carry works which had been so nearly in our
possession on the 8th.  I do not criticise the failure to capture
Chapultepec at this time.  The result that followed the first assault
could not possibly have been foreseen, and to profit by the unexpected
advantage, the commanding general must have been on the spot and given
the necessary instructions at the moment, or the troops must have kept
on without orders.  It is always, however, in order to follow a
retreating foe, unless stopped or otherwise directed.  The loss on our
side at Molino del Rey was severe for the numbers engaged.  It was
especially so among commissioned officers.

I was with the earliest of the troops to enter the Mills.  In passing
through to the north side, looking towards Chapultepec, I happened to
notice that there were armed Mexicans still on top of the building, only
a few feet from many of our men.  Not seeing any stairway or ladder
reaching to the top of the building, I took a few soldiers, and had a
cart that happened to be standing near brought up, and, placing the
shafts against the wall and chocking the wheels so that the cart could
not back, used the shafts as a sort of ladder extending to within three
or four feet of the top.  By this I climbed to the roof of the building,
followed by a few men, but found a private soldier had preceded me by
some other way.  There were still quite a number of Mexicans on the
roof, among them a major and five or six officers of lower grades, who
had not succeeded in getting away before our troops occupied the
building.  They still had their arms, while the soldier before mentioned
was walking as sentry, guarding the prisoners he had SURROUNDED, all by
himself.  I halted the sentinel, received the swords from the
commissioned officers, and proceeded, with the assistance of the
soldiers now with me, to disable the muskets by striking them against
the edge of the wall, and throw them to the ground below.

Molino del Rey was now captured, and the troops engaged, with the
exception of an appropriate guard over the captured position and
property, were marched back to their quarters in Tacubaya. The
engagement did not last many minutes, but the killed and wounded were
numerous for the number of troops engaged.

During the night of the 11th batteries were established which could play
upon the fortifications of Chapultepec.  The bombardment commenced early
on the morning of the 12th, but there was no further engagement during
this day than that of the artillery.  General Scott assigned the capture
of Chapultepec to General Pillow, but did not leave the details to his
judgment. Two assaulting columns, two hundred and fifty men each,
composed of volunteers for the occasion, were formed.  They were
commanded by Captains McKinzie and Casey respectively.  The assault was
successful, but bloody.

In later years, if not at the time, the battles of Molino del Rey and
Chapultepec have seemed to me to have been wholly unnecessary.  When the
assaults upon the garitas of San Cosme and Belen were determined upon,
the road running east to the former gate could have been reached easily,
without an engagement, by moving along south of the Mills until west of
them sufficiently far to be out of range, thence north to the road above
mentioned; or, if desirable to keep the two attacking columns nearer
together, the troops could have been turned east so as to come on the
aqueduct road out of range of the guns from Chapultepec.  In like
manner, the troops designated to act against Belen could have kept east
of Chapultepec, out of range, and come on to the aqueduct, also out of
range of Chapultepec. Molino del Rey and Chapultepec would both have
been necessarily evacuated if this course had been pursued, for they
would have been turned.

General Quitman, a volunteer from the State of Mississippi, who stood
well with the army both as a soldier and as a man, commanded the column
acting against Belen.  General Worth commanded the column against San
Cosme.  When Chapultepec fell the advance commenced along the two
aqueduct roads.  I was on the road to San Cosme, and witnessed most that
took place on that route.  When opposition was encountered our troops
sheltered themselves by keeping under the arches supporting the
aqueduct, advancing an arch at a time.  We encountered no serious
obstruction until within gun-shot of the point where the road we were on
intersects that running east to the city, the point where the aqueduct
turns at a right angle.  I have described the defences of this position
before.  There were but three commissioned officers besides myself, that
I can now call to mind, with the advance when the above position was
reached. One of these officers was a Lieutenant Semmes, of the Marine
Corps.  I think Captain Gore, and Lieutenant Judah, of the 4th infantry,
were the others.  Our progress was stopped for the time by the single
piece of artillery at the angle of the roads and the infantry occupying
the house-tops back from it.

West of the road from where we were, stood a house occupying the
south-west angle made by the San Cosme road and the road we were moving
upon. A stone wall ran from the house along each of these roads for a
considerable distance and thence back until it joined, enclosing quite a
yard about the house.  I watched my opportunity and skipped across the
road and behind the south wall.  Proceeding cautiously to the west
corner of the enclosure, I peeped around and seeing nobody, continued,
still cautiously, until the road running east and west was reached.  I
then returned to the troops, and called for volunteers.  All that were
close to me, or that heard me, about a dozen, offered their services.
Commanding them to carry their arms at a trail, I watched our
opportunity and got them across the road and under cover of the wall
beyond, before the enemy had a shot at us. Our men under cover of the
arches kept a close watch on the intrenchments that crossed our path and
the house-tops beyond, and whenever a head showed itself above the
parapets they would fire at it.  Our crossing was thus made practicable
without loss.

When we reached a safe position I instructed my little command again to
carry their arms at a trail, not to fire at the enemy until they were
ordered, and to move very cautiously following me until the San Cosme
road was reached; we would then be on the flank of the men serving the
gun on the road, and with no obstruction between us and them.  When we
reached the south-west corner of the enclosure before described, I saw
some United States troops pushing north through a shallow ditch near by,
who had come up since my reconnaissance.  This was the company of
Captain Horace Brooks, of the artillery, acting as infantry.  I
explained to Brooks briefly what I had discovered and what I was about
to do.  He said, as I knew the ground and he did not, I might go on and
he would follow.  As soon as we got on the road leading to the city the
troops serving the gun on the parapet retreated, and those on the
house-tops near by followed; our men went after them in such close
pursuit--the troops we had left under the arches joining--that a second
line across the road, about half-way between the first and the garita,
was carried. No reinforcements had yet come up except Brooks's company,
and the position we had taken was too advanced to be held by so small a
force.  It was given up, but retaken later in the day, with some loss.

Worth's command gradually advanced to the front now open to it.  Later
in the day in reconnoitring I found a church off to the south of the
road, which looked to me as if the belfry would command the ground back
of the garita San Cosme.  I got an officer of the voltigeurs, with a
mountain howitzer and men to work it, to go with me.  The road being in
possession of the enemy, we had to take the field to the south to reach
the church.  This took us over several ditches breast deep in water and
grown up with water plants.  These ditches, however, were not over eight
or ten feet in width.  The howitzer was taken to pieces and carried by
the men to its destination.  When I knocked for admission a priest came
to the door who, while extremely polite, declined to admit us.  With the
little Spanish then at my command, I explained to him that he might save
property by opening the door, and he certainly would save himself from
becoming a prisoner, for a time at least; and besides, I intended to go
in whether he consented or not.  He began to see his duty in the same
light that I did, and opened the door, though he did not look as if it
gave him special pleasure to do so.  The gun was carried to the belfry
and put together.  We were not more than two or three hundred yards from
San Cosme.  The shots from our little gun dropped in upon the enemy and
created great confusion.  Why they did not send out a small party and
capture us, I do not know.  We had no infantry or other defences besides
our one gun.

The effect of this gun upon the troops about the gate of the city was so
marked that General Worth saw it from his position. (*3) He was so
pleased that he sent a staff officer, Lieutenant Pemberton--later
Lieutenant-General commanding the defences of Vicksburg--to bring me to
him.  He expressed his gratification at the services the howitzer in the
church steeple was doing, saying that every shot was effective, and
ordered a captain of voltigeurs to report to me with another howitzer to
be placed along with the one already rendering so much service.  I could
not tell the General that there was not room enough in the steeple for
another gun, because he probably would have looked upon such a statement
as a contradiction from a second lieutenant.  I took the captain with
me, but did not use his gun.

The night of the 13th of September was spent by the troops under General
Worth in the houses near San Cosme, and in line confronting the general
line of the enemy across to Belen.  The troops that I was with were in
the houses north of the road leading into the city, and were engaged
during the night in cutting passage-ways from one house to another
towards the town.  During the night Santa Anna, with his army--except
the deserters--left the city.  He liberated all the convicts confined in
the town, hoping, no doubt, that they would inflict upon us some injury
before daylight; but several hours after Santa Anna was out of the way,
the city authorities sent a delegation to General Scott to ask--if not
demand--an armistice, respecting church property, the rights of citizens
and the supremacy of the city government in the management of municipal
affairs.  General Scott declined to trammel himself with conditions, but
gave assurances that those who chose to remain within our lines would be
protected so long as they behaved themselves properly.

General Quitman had advanced along his line very successfully on the
13th, so that at night his command occupied nearly the same position at
Belen that Worth's troops did about San Cosme. After the interview above
related between General Scott and the city council, orders were issued
for the cautious entry of both columns in the morning.  The troops under
Worth were to stop at the Alameda, a park near the west end of the city.
Quitman was to go directly to the Plaza, and take possession of the
Palace--a mass of buildings on the east side in which Congress has its
sessions, the national courts are held, the public offices are all
located, the President resides, and much room is left for museums,
receptions, etc.  This is the building generally designated as the
"Halls of the Montezumas."



CHAPTER XII.

PROMOTION TO FIRST LIEUTENANT--CAPTURE OF THE CITY OF MEXICO--THE ARMY
--MEXICAN SOLDIERS--PEACE NEGOTIATIONS.

On entering the city the troops were fired upon by the released
convicts, and possibly by deserters and hostile citizens.  The streets
were deserted, and the place presented the appearance of a "city of the
dead," except for this firing by unseen persons from house-tops,
windows, and around corners.  In this firing the lieutenant-colonel of
my regiment, Garland, was badly wounded, Lieutenant Sidney Smith, of the
4th infantry, was also wounded mortally.  He died a few days after, and
by his death I was promoted to the grade of first lieutenant.(*4)  I had
gone into the battle of Palo Alto in May, 1846, a second lieutenant, and
I entered the city of Mexico sixteen months later with the same rank,
after having been in all the engagements possible for any one man and in
a regiment that lost more officers during the war than it ever had
present at any one engagement.  My regiment lost four commissioned
officers, all senior to me, by steamboat explosions during the Mexican
war.  The Mexicans were not so discriminating.  They sometimes picked
off my juniors.

General Scott soon followed the troops into the city, in state.  I
wonder that he was not fired upon, but I believe he was not; at all
events he was not hurt.  He took quarters at first in the "Halls of the
Montezumas," and from there issued his wise and discreet orders for the
government of a conquered city, and for suppressing the hostile acts of
liberated convicts already spoken of--orders which challenge the respect
of all who study them.  Lawlessness was soon suppressed, and the City of
Mexico settled down into a quiet, law-abiding place.  The people began
to make their appearance upon the streets without fear of the invaders.
Shortly afterwards the bulk of the troops were sent from the city to the
villages at the foot of the mountains, four or five miles to the south
and south-west.

Whether General Scott approved of the Mexican war and the manner in
which it was brought about, I have no means of knowing.  His orders to
troops indicate only a soldierly spirit, with probably a little regard
for the perpetuation of his own fame.  On the other hand, General
Taylor's, I think, indicate that he considered the administration
accountable for the war, and felt no responsibility resting on himself
further than for the faithful performance of his duties.  Both generals
deserve the commendations of their countrymen and to live in the
grateful memory of this people to the latest generation.

Earlier in this narrative I have stated that the plain, reached after
passing the mountains east of Perote, extends to the cities of Puebla
and Mexico.  The route travelled by the army before reaching Puebla,
goes over a pass in a spur of mountain coming up from the south.  This
pass is very susceptible of defence by a smaller against a larger force.
Again, the highest point of the road-bed between Vera Cruz and the City
of Mexico is over Rio Frio mountain, which also might have been
successfully defended by an inferior against a superior force.  But by
moving north of the mountains, and about thirty miles north of Puebla,
both of these passes would have been avoided.  The road from Perote to
the City of Mexico, by this latter route, is as level as the prairies in
our West.  Arriving due north from Puebla, troops could have been
detached to take possession of that place, and then proceeding west with
the rest of the army no mountain would have been encountered before
reaching the City of Mexico.  It is true this road would have brought
troops in by Guadalupe--a town, church and detached spur of mountain
about two miles north of the capital, all bearing the same general name
--and at this point Lake Texcoco comes near to the mountain, which was
fortified both at the base and on the sides:  but troops could have
passed north of the mountain and come in only a few miles to the
north-west, and so flanked the position, as they actually did on the
south.

It has always seemed to me that this northern route to the City of
Mexico, would have been the better one to have taken.  But my later
experience has taught me two lessons:  first, that things are seen
plainer after the events have occurred; second, that the most confident
critics are generally those who know the least about the matter
criticised.  I know just enough about the Mexican war to approve
heartily of most of the generalship, but to differ with a little of it.
It is natural that an important city like Puebla should not have been
passed with contempt; it may be natural that the direct road to it
should have been taken; but it could have been passed, its evacuation
insured and possession acquired without danger of encountering the enemy
in intricate mountain defiles.  In this same way the City of Mexico
could have been approached without any danger of opposition, except in
the open field.

But General Scott's successes are an answer to all criticism. He invaded
a populous country, penetrating two hundred and sixty miles into the
interior, with a force at no time equal to one-half of that opposed to
him; he was without a base; the enemy was always intrenched, always on
the defensive; yet he won every battle, he captured the capital, and
conquered the government.  Credit is due to the troops engaged, it is
true, but the plans and the strategy were the general's.

I had now made marches and been in battle under both General Scott and
General Taylor.  The former divided his force of 10,500 men into four
columns, starting a day apart, in moving from Puebla to the capital of
the nation, when it was known that an army more than twice as large as
his own stood ready to resist his coming.  The road was broad and the
country open except in crossing the Rio Frio mountain.  General Taylor
pursued the same course in marching toward an enemy.  He moved even in
smaller bodies.  I never thought at the time to doubt the infallibility
of these two generals in all matters pertaining to their profession.  I
supposed they moved in small bodies because more men could not be passed
over a single road on the same day with their artillery and necessary
trains.  Later I found the fallacy of this belief.  The rebellion, which
followed as a sequence to the Mexican war, never could have been
suppressed if larger bodies of men could not have been moved at the same
time than was the custom under Scott and Taylor.

The victories in Mexico were, in every instance, over vastly superior
numbers.  There were two reasons for this.  Both General Scott and
General Taylor had such armies as are not often got together.  At the
battles of Palo Alto and Resaca-de-la-Palma, General Taylor had a small
army, but it was composed exclusively of regular troops, under the best
of drill and discipline.  Every officer, from the highest to the lowest,
was educated in his profession, not at West Point necessarily, but in
the camp, in garrison, and many of them in Indian wars. The rank and
file were probably inferior, as material out of which to make an army,
to the volunteers that participated in all the later battles of the war;
but they were brave men, and then drill and discipline brought out all
there was in them.  A better army, man for man, probably never faced an
enemy than the one commanded by General Taylor in the earliest two
engagements of the Mexican war.  The volunteers who followed were of
better material, but without drill or discipline at the start.  They
were associated with so many disciplined men and professionally educated
officers, that when they went into engagements it was with a confidence
they would not have felt otherwise.  They became soldiers themselves
almost at once.  All these conditions we would enjoy again in case of
war.

The Mexican army of that day was hardly an organization.  The private
soldier was picked up from the lower class of the inhabitants when
wanted; his consent was not asked; he was poorly clothed, worse fed, and
seldom paid.  He was turned adrift when no longer wanted.  The officers
of the lower grades were but little superior to the men.  With all this
I have seen as brave stands made by some of these men as I have ever
seen made by soldiers.  Now Mexico has a standing army larger than that
of the United States.  They have a military school modelled after West
Point.  Their officers are educated and, no doubt, generally brave.  The
Mexican war of 1846-8 would be an impossibility in this generation.

The Mexicans have shown a patriotism which it would be well if we would
imitate in part, but with more regard to truth.  They celebrate the
anniversaries of Chapultepec and Molino del Rey as of very great
victories.  The anniversaries are recognized as national holidays.  At
these two battles, while the United States troops were victorious, it
was at very great sacrifice of life compared with what the Mexicans
suffered.  The Mexicans, as on many other occasions, stood up as well as
any troops ever did.  The trouble seemed to be the lack of experience
among the officers, which led them after a certain time to simply quit,
without being particularly whipped, but because they had fought enough.
Their authorities of the present day grow enthusiastic over their theme
when telling of these victories, and speak with pride of the large sum
of money they forced us to pay in the end.  With us, now twenty years
after the close of the most stupendous war ever known, we have writers
--who profess devotion to the nation--engaged in trying to prove that the
Union forces were not victorious; practically, they say, we were slashed
around from Donelson to Vicksburg and to Chattanooga; and in the East
from Gettysburg to Appomattox, when the physical rebellion gave out from
sheer exhaustion.  There is no difference in the amount of romance in
the two stories.

I would not have the anniversaries of our victories celebrated, nor
those of our defeats made fast days and spent in humiliation and prayer;
but I would like to see truthful history written. Such history will do
full credit to the courage, endurance and soldierly ability of the
American citizen, no matter what section of the country he hailed from,
or in what ranks he fought.  The justice of the cause which in the end
prevailed, will, I doubt not, come to be acknowledged by every citizen
of the land, in time.  For the present, and so long as there are living
witnesses of the great war of sections, there will be people who will
not be consoled for the loss of a cause which they believed to be holy.
As time passes, people, even of the South, will begin to wonder how it
was possible that their ancestors ever fought for or justified
institutions which acknowledged the right of property in man.

After the fall of the capital and the dispersal of the government of
Mexico, it looked very much as if military occupation of the country for
a long time might be necessary. General Scott at once began the
preparation of orders, regulations and laws in view of this contingency.
He contemplated making the country pay all the expenses of the
occupation, without the army becoming a perceptible burden upon the
people.  His plan was to levy a direct tax upon the separate states, and
collect, at the ports left open to trade, a duty on all imports.  From
the beginning of the war private property had not been taken, either for
the use of the army or of individuals, without full compensation.  This
policy was to be pursued.  There were not troops enough in the valley of
Mexico to occupy many points, but now that there was no organized army
of the enemy of any size, reinforcements could be got from the Rio
Grande, and there were also new volunteers arriving from time to time,
all by way of Vera Cruz.  Military possession was taken of Cuernavaca,
fifty miles south of the City of Mexico; of Toluca, nearly as far west,
and of Pachuca, a mining town of great importance, some sixty miles to
the north-east.  Vera Cruz, Jalapa, Orizaba, and Puebla were already in
our possession.

Meanwhile the Mexican government had departed in the person of Santa
Anna, and it looked doubtful for a time whether the United States
commissioner, Mr. Trist, would find anybody to negotiate with.  A
temporary government, however, was soon established at Queretaro, and
Trist began negotiations for a conclusion of the war.  Before terms were
finally agreed upon he was ordered back to Washington, but General Scott
prevailed upon him to remain, as an arrangement had been so nearly
reached, and the administration must approve his acts if he succeeded in
making such a treaty as had been contemplated in his instructions.  The
treaty was finally signed the 2d of February, 1848, and accepted by the
government at Washington.  It is that known as the "Treaty of Guadalupe
Hidalgo," and secured to the United States the Rio Grande as the
boundary of Texas, and the whole territory then included in New Mexico
and Upper California, for the sum of $15,000,000.

Soon after entering the city of Mexico, the opposition of Generals
Pillow, Worth and Colonel Duncan to General Scott became very marked.
Scott claimed that they had demanded of the President his removal.  I do
not know whether this is so or not, but I do know of their unconcealed
hostility to their chief.  At last he placed them in arrest, and
preferred charges against them of insubordination and disrespect.  This
act brought on a crisis in the career of the general commanding.  He had
asserted from the beginning that the administration was hostile to him;
that it had failed in its promises of men and war material; that the
President himself had shown duplicity if not treachery in the endeavor
to procure the appointment of Benton:  and the administration now gave
open evidence of its enmity.  About the middle of February orders came
convening a court of inquiry, composed of Brevet Brigadier-General
Towson, the paymaster-general of the army, Brigadier-General Cushing and
Colonel Belknap, to inquire into the conduct of the accused and the
accuser, and shortly afterwards orders were received from Washington,
relieving Scott of the command of the army in the field and assigning
Major-General William O. Butler of Kentucky to the place.  This order
also released Pillow, Worth and Duncan from arrest.

If a change was to be made the selection of General Butler was agreeable
to every one concerned, so far as I remember to have heard expressions
on the subject.  There were many who regarded the treatment of General
Scott as harsh and unjust.  It is quite possible that the vanity of the
General had led him to say and do things that afforded a plausible
pretext to the administration for doing just what it did and what it had
wanted to do from the start.  The court tried the accuser quite as much
as the accused.  It was adjourned before completing its labors, to meet
in Frederick, Maryland.  General Scott left the country, and never after
had more than the nominal command of the army until early in 1861.  He
certainly was not sustained in his efforts to maintain discipline in
high places.

The efforts to kill off politically the two successful generals, made
them both candidates for the Presidency.  General Taylor was nominated
in 1848, and was elected.  Four years later General Scott received the
nomination but was badly beaten, and the party nominating him died with
his defeat.(*5)



CHAPTER XIII.

TREATY OF PEACE--MEXICAN BULL FIGHTS--REGIMENTAL QUARTERMASTER--TRIP TO
POPOCATAPETL--TRIP TO THE CAVES OF MEXICO.

The treaty of peace between the two countries was signed by the
commissioners of each side early in February, 1848.  It took a
considerable time for it to reach Washington, receive the approval of
the administration, and be finally ratified by the Senate.  It was
naturally supposed by the army that there would be no more fighting, and
officers and men were of course anxious to get home, but knowing there
must be delay they contented themselves as best they could.  Every
Sunday there was a bull fight for the amusement of those who would pay
their fifty cents.  I attended one of them--just one--not wishing to
leave the country without having witnessed the national sport.  The
sight to me was sickening.  I could not see how human beings could enjoy
the sufferings of beasts, and often of men, as they seemed to do on
these occasions.

At these sports there are usually from four to six bulls sacrificed.
The audience occupies seats around the ring in which the exhibition is
given, each seat but the foremost rising higher than the one in front,
so that every one can get a full view of the sport.  When all is ready a
bull is turned into the ring.  Three or four men come in, mounted on the
merest skeletons of horses blind or blind-folded and so weak that they
could not make a sudden turn with their riders without danger of falling
down.  The men are armed with spears having a point as sharp as a
needle.  Other men enter the arena on foot, armed with red flags and
explosives about the size of a musket cartridge.  To each of these
explosives is fastened a barbed needle which serves the purpose of
attaching them to the bull by running the needle into the skin.  Before
the animal is turned loose a lot of these explosives are attached to
him.  The pain from the pricking of the skin by the needles is
exasperating; but when the explosions of the cartridges commence the
animal becomes frantic.  As he makes a lunge towards one horseman,
another runs a spear into him.  He turns towards his last tormentor when
a man on foot holds out a red flag; the bull rushes for this and is
allowed to take it on his horns.  The flag drops and covers the eyes of
the animal so that he is at a loss what to do; it is jerked from him and
the torment is renewed.  When the animal is worked into an
uncontrollable frenzy, the horsemen withdraw, and the matadores
--literally murderers--enter, armed with knives having blades twelve or
eighteen inches long, and sharp.  The trick is to dodge an attack from
the animal and stab him to the heart as he passes. If these efforts fail
the bull is finally lassoed, held fast and killed by driving a knife
blade into the spinal column just back of the horns.  He is then dragged
out by horses or mules, another is let into the ring, and the same
performance is renewed.

On the occasion when I was present one of the bulls was not turned aside
by the attacks in the rear, the presentations of the red flag, etc.,
etc., but kept right on, and placing his horns under the flanks of a
horse threw him and his rider to the ground with great force.  The horse
was killed and the rider lay prostrate as if dead.  The bull was then
lassoed and killed in the manner above described.  Men came in and
carried the dead man off in a litter.  When the slaughtered bull and
horse were dragged out, a fresh bull was turned into the ring.
Conspicuous among the spectators was the man who had been carried out on
a litter but a few minutes before.  He was only dead so far as that
performance went; but the corpse was so lively that it could not forego
the chance of witnessing the discomfiture of some of his brethren who
might not be so fortunate.  There was a feeling of disgust manifested by
the audience to find that he had come to life again.  I confess that I
felt sorry to see the cruelty to the bull and the horse.  I did not stay
for the conclusion of the performance; but while I did stay, there was
not a bull killed in the prescribed way.

Bull fights are now prohibited in the Federal District--embracing a
territory around the City of Mexico, somewhat larger than the District
of Columbia--and they are not an institution in any part of the country.
During one of my recent visits to Mexico, bull fights were got up in my
honor at Puebla and at Pachuca.  I was not notified in advance so as to
be able to decline and thus prevent the performance; but in both cases I
civilly declined to attend.

Another amusement of the people of Mexico of that day, and one which
nearly all indulged in, male and female, old and young, priest and
layman, was Monte playing.  Regular feast weeks were held every year at
what was then known as St. Augustin Tlalpam, eleven miles out of town.
There were dealers to suit every class and condition of people.  In many
of the booths tlackos--the copper coin of the country, four of them
making six and a quarter cents of our money--were piled up in great
quantities, with some silver, to accommodate the people who could not
bet more than a few pennies at a time.  In other booths silver formed
the bulk of the capital of the bank, with a few doubloons to be changed
if there should be a run of luck against the bank.  In some there was no
coin except gold.  Here the rich were said to bet away their entire
estates in a single day.  All this is stopped now.

For myself, I was kept somewhat busy during the winter of 1847-8.  My
regiment was stationed in Tacubaya.  I was regimental quartermaster and
commissary.  General Scott had been unable to get clothing for the
troops from the North.  The men were becoming--well, they needed
clothing.  Material had to be purchased, such as could be obtained, and
people employed to make it up into "Yankee uniforms."  A quartermaster
in the city was designated to attend to this special duty; but clothing
was so much needed that it was seized as fast as made up.  A regiment
was glad to get a dozen suits at a time.  I had to look after this
matter for the 4th infantry.  Then our regimental fund had run down and
some of the musicians in the band had been without their extra pay for a
number of months.

The regimental bands at that day were kept up partly by pay from the
government, and partly by pay from the regimental fund. There was
authority of law for enlisting a certain number of men as musicians.  So
many could receive the pay of non-commissioned officers of the various
grades, and the remainder the pay of privates.  This would not secure a
band leader, nor good players on certain instruments.  In garrison there
are various ways of keeping up a regimental fund sufficient to give
extra pay to musicians, establish libraries and ten-pin alleys,
subscribe to magazines and furnish many extra comforts to the men.  The
best device for supplying the fund is to issue bread to the soldiers
instead of flour.  The ration used to be eighteen ounces per day of
either flour or bread; and one hundred pounds of flour will make one
hundred and forty pounds of bread.  This saving was purchased by the
commissary for the benefit of the fund.  In the emergency the 4th
infantry was laboring under, I rented a bakery in the city, hired
bakers--Mexicans--bought fuel and whatever was necessary, and I also got
a contract from the chief commissary of the army for baking a large
amount of hard bread.  In two months I made more money for the fund than
my pay amounted to during the entire war.  While stationed at Monterey I
had relieved the post fund in the same way.  There, however, was no
profit except in the saving of flour by converting it into bread.

In the spring of 1848 a party of officers obtained leave to visit
Popocatapetl, the highest volcano in America, and to take an escort.  I
went with the party, many of whom afterwards occupied conspicuous
positions before the country.  Of those who "went south," and attained
high rank, there was Lieutenant Richard Anderson, who commanded a corps
at Spottsylvania; Captain Sibley, a major-general, and, after the war,
for a number of years in the employ of the Khedive of Egypt; Captain
George Crittenden, a rebel general; S. B. Buckner, who surrendered Fort
Donelson; and Mansfield Lovell, who commanded at New Orleans before that
city fell into the hands of the National troops.  Of those who remained
on our side there were Captain Andrew Porter, Lieutenant C. P. Stone and
Lieutenant Z. B. Tower.  There were quite a number of other officers,
whose names I cannot recollect.

At a little village (Ozumba) near the base of Popocatapetl, where we
purposed to commence the ascent, we procured guides and two pack mules
with forage for our horses.  High up on the mountain there was a
deserted house of one room, called the Vaqueria, which had been occupied
years before by men in charge of cattle ranging on the mountain.  The
pasturage up there was very fine when we saw it, and there were still
some cattle, descendants of the former domestic herd, which had now
become wild.  It was possible to go on horseback as far as the Vaqueria,
though the road was somewhat hazardous in places. Sometimes it was very
narrow with a yawning precipice on one side, hundreds of feet down to a
roaring mountain torrent below, and almost perpendicular walls on the
other side.  At one of these places one of our mules loaded with two
sacks of barley, one on each side, the two about as big as he was,
struck his load against the mountain-side and was precipitated to the
bottom.  The descent was steep but not perpendicular.  The mule rolled
over and over until the bottom was reached, and we supposed of course
the poor animal was dashed to pieces.  What was our surprise, not long
after we had gone into bivouac, to see the lost mule, cargo and owner
coming up the ascent.  The load had protected the animal from serious
injury; and his owner had gone after him and found a way back to the
path leading up to the hut where we were to stay.

The night at the Vaqueria was one of the most unpleasant I ever knew.
It was very cold and the rain fell in torrents.  A little higher up the
rain ceased and snow began.  The wind blew with great velocity.  The
log-cabin we were in had lost the roof entirely on one side, and on the
other it was hardly better then a sieve.  There was little or no sleep
that night.  As soon as it was light the next morning, we started to
make the ascent to the summit.  The wind continued to blow with violence
and the weather was still cloudy, but there was neither rain nor snow.
The clouds, however, concealed from our view the country below us,
except at times a momentary glimpse could be got through a clear space
between them.  The wind carried the loose snow around the mountain-sides
in such volumes as to make it almost impossible to stand up against it.
We labored on and on, until it became evident that the top could not be
reached before night, if at all in such a storm, and we concluded to
return. The descent was easy and rapid, though dangerous, until we got
below the snow line.  At the cabin we mounted our horses, and by night
were at Ozumba.

The fatigues of the day and the loss of sleep the night before drove us
to bed early.  Our beds consisted of a place on the dirt-floor with a
blanket under us.  Soon all were asleep; but long before morning first
one and then another of our party began to cry out with excruciating
pain in the eyes.  Not one escaped it.  By morning the eyes of half the
party were so swollen that they were entirely closed.  The others
suffered pain equally.  The feeling was about what might be expected
from the prick of a sharp needle at a white heat.  We remained in
quarters until the afternoon bathing our eyes in cold water. This
relieved us very much, and before night the pain had entirely left.  The
swelling, however, continued, and about half the party still had their
eyes entirely closed; but we concluded to make a start back, those who
could see a little leading the horses of those who could not see at all.
We moved back to the village of Ameca Ameca, some six miles, and stopped
again for the night.  The next morning all were entirely well and free
from pain.  The weather was clear and Popocatapetl stood out in all its
beauty, the top looking as if not a mile away, and inviting us to
return.  About half the party were anxious to try the ascent again, and
concluded to do so.  The remainder--I was with the remainder--concluded
that we had got all the pleasure there was to be had out of mountain
climbing, and that we would visit the great caves of Mexico, some ninety
miles from where we then were, on the road to Acapulco.

The party that ascended the mountain the second time succeeded in
reaching the crater at the top, with but little of the labor they
encountered in their first attempt.  Three of them--Anderson, Stone and
Buckner--wrote accounts of their journey, which were published at the
time.  I made no notes of this excursion, and have read nothing about it
since, but it seems to me that I can see the whole of it as vividly as
if it were but yesterday.  I have been back at Ameca Ameca, and the
village beyond, twice in the last five years.  The scene had not changed
materially from my recollection of it.

The party which I was with moved south down the valley to the town of
Cuantla, some forty miles from Ameca Ameca.  The latter stands on the
plain at the foot of Popocatapetl, at an elevation of about eight
thousand feet above tide water.  The <DW72> down is gradual as the
traveller moves south, but one would not judge that, in going to
Cuantla, descent enough had been made to occasion a material change in
the climate and productions of the soil; but such is the case.  In the
morning we left a temperate climate where the cereals and fruits are
those common to the United States, we halted in the evening in a
tropical climate where the orange and banana, the coffee and the
sugar-cane were flourishing.  We had been travelling, apparently,
on a plain all day, but in the direction of the flow of water.

Soon after the capture of the City of Mexico an armistice had been
agreed to, designating the limits beyond which troops of the respective
armies were not to go during its continuance. Our party knew nothing
about these limits.  As we approached Cuantla bugles sounded the
assembly, and soldiers rushed from the guard-house in the edge of the
town towards us.  Our party halted, and I tied a white pocket
handkerchief to a stick and, using it as a flag of truce, proceeded on
to the town.  Captains Sibley and Porter followed a few hundred yards
behind.  I was detained at the guard-house until a messenger could be
dispatched to the quarters of the commanding general, who authorized
that I should be conducted to him.  I had been with the general but a
few minutes when the two officers following announced themselves.  The
Mexican general reminded us that it was a violation of the truce for us
to be there.  However, as we had no special authority from our own
commanding general, and as we knew nothing about the terms of the truce,
we were permitted to occupy a vacant house outside the guard for the
night, with the promise of a guide to put us on the road to Cuernavaca
the next morning.

Cuernavaca is a town west of Guantla.  The country through which we
passed, between these two towns, is tropical in climate and productions
and rich in scenery.  At one point, about half-way between the two
places, the road goes over a low pass in the mountains in which there is
a very quaint old town, the inhabitants of which at that day were nearly
all full-blooded Indians.  Very few of them even spoke Spanish.  The
houses were built of stone and generally only one story high.  The
streets were narrow, and had probably been paved before Cortez visited
the country.  They had not been graded, but the paving had been done on
the natural surface.  We had with us one vehicle, a cart, which was
probably the first wheeled vehicle that had ever passed through that
town.

On a hill overlooking this town stands the tomb of an ancient king; and
it was understood that the inhabitants venerated this tomb very highly,
as well as the memory of the ruler who was supposed to be buried in it.
We ascended the mountain and surveyed the tomb; but it showed no
particular marks of architectural taste, mechanical skill or advanced
civilization.  The next day we went into Cuernavaca.

After a day's rest at Cuernavaca our party set out again on the journey
to the great caves of Mexico.  We had proceeded but a few miles when we
were stopped, as before, by a guard and notified that the terms of the
existing armistice did not permit us to go further in that direction.
Upon convincing the guard that we were a mere party of pleasure seekers
desirous of visiting the great natural curiosities of the country which
we expected soon to leave, we were conducted to a large hacienda near
by, and directed to remain there until the commanding general of that
department could be communicated with and his decision obtained as to
whether we should be permitted to pursue our journey.  The guard
promised to send a messenger at once, and expected a reply by night.  At
night there was no response from the commanding general, but the captain
of the guard was sure he would have a reply by morning.  Again in the
morning there was no reply.  The second evening the same thing happened,
and finally we learned that the guard had sent no message or messenger
to the department commander.  We determined therefore to go on unless
stopped by a force sufficient to compel obedience.

After a few hours' travel we came to a town where a scene similar to the
one at Cuantia occurred.  The commanding officer sent a guide to conduct
our party around the village and to put us upon our road again.  This
was the last interruption:  that night we rested at a large coffee
plantation, some eight miles from the cave we were on the way to visit.
It must have been a Saturday night; the peons had been paid off, and
spent part of the night in gambling away their scanty week's earnings.
Their coin was principally copper, and I do not believe there was a man
among them who had received as much as twenty-five cents in money.  They
were as much excited, however, as if they had been staking thousands.  I
recollect one poor fellow, who had lost his last tlacko, pulled off his
shirt and, in the most excited manner, put that up on the turn of a
card.  Monte was the game played, the place out of doors, near the
window of the room occupied by the officers of our party.

The next morning we were at the mouth of the cave at an early hour,
provided with guides, candles and rockets.  We explored to a distance of
about three miles from the entrance, and found a succession of chambers
of great dimensions and of great beauty when lit up with our rockets.
Stalactites and stalagmites of all sizes were discovered.  Some of the
former were many feet in diameter and extended from ceiling to floor;
some of the latter were but a few feet high from the floor; but the
formation is going on constantly, and many centuries hence these
stalagmites will extend to the ceiling and become complete columns.  The
stalagmites were all a little concave, and the cavities were filled with
water.  The water percolates through the roof, a drop at a time--often
the drops several minutes apart--and more or less charged with mineral
matter.  Evaporation goes on slowly, leaving the mineral behind.  This
in time makes the immense columns, many of them thousands of tons in
weight, which serve to support the roofs over the vast chambers.  I
recollect that at one point in the cave one of these columns is of such
huge proportions that there is only a narrow passage left on either side
of it.  Some of our party became satisfied with their explorations
before we had reached the point to which the guides were accustomed to
take explorers, and started back without guides.  Coming to the large
column spoken of, they followed it entirely around, and commenced
retracing their steps into the bowels of the mountain, without being
aware of the fact.  When the rest of us had completed our explorations,
we started out with our guides, but had not gone far before we saw the
torches of an approaching party.  We could not conceive who these could
be, for all of us had come in together, and there were none but
ourselves at the entrance when we started in. Very soon we found it was
our friends.  It took them some time to conceive how they had got where
they were.  They were sure they had kept straight on for the mouth of
the cave, and had gone about far enough to have reached it.






End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoirs of General Ulysses S.
Grant, Part 1., by Ulysses S. Grant

*** 