|
The Memoirs of General and President U. S. Grant
Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant
| Ulysses S. Grant Writing His Memoirs (1885) |
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| National Archives |
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 colored 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 colored 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
colored 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 slopes 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 slopes. 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 slopes 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 slope 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.
CHAPTER XIV.
RETURN OF THE ARMY--MARRIAGE--ORDERED TO THE PACIFIC COAST--CROSSING THE
ISTHMUS--ARRIVAL
AT SAN FRANCISCO.
My experience in the Mexican war was of great advantage to me
afterwards. Besides the many
practical lessons it taught, the war
brought nearly all the officers of the regular army together so as to
make them
personally acquainted. It also brought them in contact with
volunteers, many of whom served in the war of the rebellion
afterwards.
Then, in my particular case, I had been at West Point at about the right
time to meet most of the graduates
who were of a suitable age at the
breaking out of the rebellion to be trusted with large commands.
Graduating in 1843,
I was at the military academy from one to four years
with all cadets who graduated between 1840 and 1846--seven classes.
These
classes embraced more than fifty officers who afterwards became
generals on one side or the other in the rebellion, many
of them holding
high commands. All the older officers, who became conspicuous in the
rebellion, I had also served
with and known in Mexico: Lee, J. E.
Johnston, A. S. Johnston, Holmes, Hebert and a number of others on the
Confederate
side; McCall, Mansfield, Phil. Kearney and others on the
National side. The acquaintance thus formed was of immense
service to
me in the war of the rebellion--I mean what I learned of the characters
of those to whom I was afterwards
opposed. I do not pretend to say that
all movements, or even many of them, were made with special reference to
the
characteristics of the commander against whom they were directed.
But my appreciation of my enemies was certainly affected
by this
knowledge. The natural disposition of most people is to clothe a
commander of a large army whom they do
not know, with almost superhuman
abilities. A large part of the National army, for instance, and most of
the press
of the country, clothed General Lee with just such qualities,
but I had known him personally, and knew that he was mortal;
and it was
just as well that I felt this.
The treaty of peace was at last ratified, and the evacuation of Mexico
by
United States troops was ordered. Early in June the troops in the
City of Mexico began to move out. Many of
them, including the brigade
to which I belonged, were assembled at Jalapa, above the vomito, to
await the arrival of
transports at Vera Cruz: but with all this
precaution my regiment and others were in camp on the sand beach in a
July
sun, for about a week before embarking, while the fever raged with
great virulence in Vera Cruz, not two miles away.
I can call to mind
only one person, an officer, who died of the disease. My regiment was
sent to Pascagoula, Mississippi,
to spend the summer. As soon as it was
settled in camp I obtained a leave of absence for four months and
proceeded
to St. Louis. On the 22d of August, 1848, I was married to
Miss Julia Dent, the lady of whom I have before spoken.
We visited my
parents and relations in Ohio, and, at the end of my leave, proceeded to
my post at Sackett's Harbor,
New York. In April following I was ordered
to Detroit, Michigan, where two years were spent with but few important
incidents.
The
present constitution of the State of Michigan was ratified during
this time. By the terms of one of its provisions,
all citizens of the
United States residing within the State at the time of the ratification
became citizens of Michigan
also. During my stay in Detroit there was an
election for city officers. Mr. Zachariah Chandler was the candidate
of
the Whigs for the office of Mayor, and was elected, although the city
was then reckoned democratic. All the
officers stationed there at the
time who offered their votes were permitted to cast them. I did not
offer mine,
however, as I did not wish to consider myself a citizen of
Michigan. This was Mr. Chandler's first entry into politics,
a career
he followed ever after with great success, and in which he died enjoying
the friendship, esteem and love of
his countrymen.
In the spring of 1851 the garrison at Detroit was transferred to
Sackett's Harbor, and in the following
spring the entire 4th infantry
was ordered to the Pacific Coast. It was decided that Mrs. Grant should
visit my
parents at first for a few months, and then remain with her own
family at their St. Louis home until an opportunity offered
of sending
for her. In the month of April the regiment was assembled at Governor's
Island, New York Harbor, and
on the 5th of July eight companies sailed
for Aspinwall. We numbered a little over seven hundred persons,
including
the families of officers and soldiers. Passage was secured
for us on the old steamer Ohio, commanded at the time
by Captain
Schenck, of the navy. It had not been determined, until a day or two
before starting, that the 4th
infantry should go by the Ohio;
consequently, a complement of passengers had already been secured. The
addition
of over seven hundred to this list crowded the steamer most
uncomfortably, especially for the tropics in July.
In
eight days Aspinwall was reached. At that time the streets of the
town were eight or ten inches under water, and
foot passengers passed
from place to place on raised foot-walks. July is at the height of the
wet season, on the Isthmus.
At intervals the rain would pour down in
streams, followed in not many minutes by a blazing, tropical summer's
sun.
These alternate changes, from rain to sunshine, were continuous in
the afternoons. I wondered how any person could
live many months in
Aspinwall, and wondered still more why any one tried.
In the summer of 1852 the Panama railroad
was completed only to the
point where it now crosses the Chagres River. From there passengers
were carried by
boats to Gorgona, at which place they took mules for
Panama, some twenty-five miles further. Those who travelled
over the
Isthmus in those days will remember that boats on the Chagres River were
propelled by natives not inconveniently
burdened with clothing. These
boats carried thirty to forty passengers each. The crews consisted of
six
men to a boat, armed with long poles. There were planks wide enough
for a man to walk on conveniently, running along
the sides of each boat
from end to end. The men would start from the bow, place one end of
their poles against
the river bottom, brace their shoulders against the
other end, and then walk to the stern as rapidly as they could.
In this
way from a mile to a mile and a half an hour could be made, against the
current of the river.
I, as regimental
quartermaster, had charge of the public property and
had also to look after the transportation. A contract had been
entered
into with the steamship company in New York for the transportation of
the regiment to California, including
the Isthmus transit. A certain
amount of baggage was allowed per man, and saddle animals were to be
furnished
to commissioned officers and to all disabled persons. The
regiment, with the exception of one company left as guards
to the public
property--camp and garrison equipage principally--and the soldiers with
families, took boats, propelled
as above described, for Gorgona. From
this place they marched to Panama, and were soon comfortably on the
steamer
anchored in the bay, some three or four miles from the town. I,
with one company of troops and all the soldiers with
families, all the
tents, mess chests and camp kettles, was sent to Cruces, a town a few
miles higher up the Chagres
River than Gorgona. There I found an
impecunious American who had taken the contract to furnish
transportation
for the regiment at a stipulated price per hundred pounds
for the freight and so much for each saddle animal. But
when we reached
Cruces there was not a mule, either for pack or saddle, in the place.
The contractor promised that the
animals should be on hand in the
morning. In the morning he said that they were on the way from some
imaginary
place, and would arrive in the course of the day. This went
on until I saw that he could not procure the animals
at all at the price
he had promised to furnish them for. The unusual number of passengers
that had come over on
the steamer, and the large amount of freight to
pack, had created an unprecedented demand for mules. Some of the
passengers
paid as high as forty dollars for the use of a mule to ride
twenty-five miles, when the mule would not have sold for ten
dollars in
that market at other times. Meanwhile the cholera had broken out, and
men were dying every hour. To
diminish the food for the disease, I
permitted the company detailed with me to proceed to Panama. The
captain
and the doctors accompanied the men, and I was left alone with
the sick and the soldiers who had families. The regiment
at Panama was
also affected with the disease; but there were better accommodations for
the well on the steamer, and
a hospital, for those taken with the
disease, on an old hulk anchored a mile off. There were also hospital
tents
on shore on the island of Flamingo, which stands in the bay.
I was about a week at Cruces before transportation began
to come in.
About one-third of the people with me died, either at Cruces or on the
way to Panama. There was no
agent of the transportation company at
Cruces to consult, or to take the responsibility of procuring
transportation
at a price which would secure it. I therefore myself
dismissed the contractor and made a new contract with a native,
at more
than double the original price. Thus we finally reached Panama. The
steamer, however, could not
proceed until the cholera abated, and the
regiment was detained still longer. Altogether, on the Isthmus and on
the
Pacific side, we were delayed six weeks. About one-seventh of those
who left New York harbor with the 4th infantry
on the 5th of July, now
lie buried on the Isthmus of Panama or on Flamingo island in Panama Bay.
One amusing circumstance
occurred while we were lying at anchor in
Panama Bay. In the regiment there was a Lieutenant Slaughter who was
very
liable to sea-sickness. It almost made him sick to see the wave of
a table-cloth when the servants were spreading
it. Soon after his
graduation, Slaughter was ordered to California and took passage by a
sailing vessel going
around Cape Horn. The vessel was seven months
making the voyage, and Slaughter was sick every moment of the time,
never
more so than while lying at anchor after reaching his place of
destination. On landing in California he found orders which
had come by
the Isthmus, notifying him of a mistake in his assignment; he should
have been ordered to the northern lakes.
He started back by the Isthmus
route and was sick all the way. But when he arrived at the East he was
again ordered
to California, this time definitely, and at this date was
making his third trip. He was as sick as ever, and had
been so for more
than a month while lying at anchor in the bay. I remember him well,
seated with his elbows on
the table in front of him, his chin between
his hands, and looking the picture of despair. At last he broke out,
"I
wish I had taken my father's advice; he wanted me to go into the navy;
if I had done so, I should not have had to
go to sea so much." Poor
Slaughter! it was his last sea voyage. He was killed by Indians in
Oregon.
By
the last of August the cholera had so abated that it was deemed safe
to start. The disease did not break out again
on the way to California,
and we reached San Francisco early in September.
CHAPTER XV.
SAN FRANCISCO--EARLY
CALIFORNIA EXPERIENCES--LIFE ON THE PACIFIC COAST
--PROMOTED CAPTAIN--FLUSH TIMES IN CALIFORNIA.
San Francisco at
that day was a lively place. Gold, or placer digging
as it was called, was at its height. Steamers plied daily
between San
Francisco and both Stockton and Sacramento. Passengers and gold from the
southern mines came by the Stockton
boat; from the northern mines by
Sacramento. In the evening when these boats arrived, Long Wharf--there
was but
one wharf in San Francisco in 1852--was alive with people
crowding to meet the miners as they came down to sell their "dust"
and
to "have a time." Of these some were runners for hotels, boarding
houses or restaurants; others belonged to
a class of impecunious
adventurers, of good manners and good presence, who were ever on the
alert to make the acquaintance
of people with some ready means, in the
hope of being asked to take a meal at a restaurant. Many were young men
of
good family, good education and gentlemanly instincts. Their parents
had been able to support them during their minority,
and to give them
good educations, but not to maintain them afterwards. From 1849 to 1853
there was a rush of people
to the Pacific coast, of the class described.
All thought that fortunes were to be picked up, without effort, in the
gold
fields on the Pacific. Some realized more than their most sanguine
expectations; but for one such there were hundreds
disappointed, many of
whom now fill unknown graves; others died wrecks of their former selves,
and many, without a vicious
instinct, became criminals and outcasts.
Many of the real scenes in early California life exceed in strangeness
and
interest any of the mere products of the brain of the novelist.
Those early days in California brought out character.
It was a long way
off then, and the journey was expensive. The fortunate could go by Cape
Horn or by the Isthmus
of Panama; but the mass of pioneers crossed the
plains with their ox-teams. This took an entire summer. They
were very
lucky when they got through with a yoke of worn-out cattle. All other
means were exhausted in procuring
the outfit on the Missouri River. The
immigrant, on arriving, found himself a stranger, in a strange land, far
from
friends. Time pressed, for the little means that could be realized
from the sale of what was left of the outfit would
not support a man
long at California prices. Many became discouraged. Others would take
off their coats
and look for a job, no matter what it might be. These
succeeded as a rule. There were many young men who had studied
professions
before they went to California, and who had never done a
day's manual labor in their lives, who took in the situation at
once and
went to work to make a start at anything they could get to do. Some
supplied carpenters and masons with
material--carrying plank, brick, or
mortar, as the case might be; others drove stages, drays, or baggage
wagons, until
they could do better. More became discouraged early and
spent their time looking up people who would "treat," or
lounging about
restaurants and gambling houses where free lunches were furnished daily.
They were welcomed at these
places because they often brought in miners
who proved good customers.
My regiment spent a few weeks at Benicia
barracks, and then was ordered
to Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River, then in Oregon Territory.
During the winter
of 1852-3 the territory was divided, all north of the
Columbia River being taken from Oregon to make Washington Territory.
Prices
for all kinds of supplies were so high on the Pacific coast from
1849 until at least 1853--that it would have been impossible
for
officers of the army to exist upon their pay, if it had not been that
authority was given them to purchase from
the commissary such supplies
as he kept, at New Orleans wholesale prices. A cook could not be hired
for the pay
of a captain. The cook could do better. At Benicia, in
1852, flour was 25 cents per pound; potatoes were 16
cents; beets,
turnips and cabbage, 6 cents; onions, 37 1/2 cents; meat and other
articles in proportion. In 1853
at Vancouver vegetables were a little
lower. I with three other officers concluded that we would raise a crop
for
ourselves, and by selling the surplus realize something handsome. I
bought a pair of horses that had crossed the
plains that summer and were
very poor. They recuperated rapidly, however, and proved a good team to
break up the
ground with. I performed all the labor of breaking up the
ground while the other officers planted the potatoes.
Our crop was
enormous. Luckily for us the Columbia River rose to a great height from
the melting of the snow in
the mountains in June, and overflowed and
killed most of our crop. This saved digging it up, for everybody on the
Pacific
coast seemed to have come to the conclusion at the same time
that agriculture would be profitable. In 1853 more than
three-quarters
of the potatoes raised were permitted to rot in the ground, or had to be
thrown away. The only
potatoes we sold were to our own mess.
While I was stationed on the Pacific coast we were free from Indian
wars.
There were quite a number of remnants of tribes in the vicinity
of Portland in Oregon, and of Fort Vancouver in Washington
Territory.
They had generally acquired some of the vices of civilization, but none
of the virtues, except in individual
cases. The Hudson's Bay Company
had held the North-west with their trading posts for many years before
the United
States was represented on the Pacific coast. They still
retained posts along the Columbia River and one at Fort Vancouver,
when
I was there. Their treatment of the Indians had brought out the better
qualities of the savages. Farming
had been undertaken by the company to
supply the Indians with bread and vegetables; they raised some cattle
and horses;
and they had now taught the Indians to do the labor of the
farm and herd. They always compensated them for their labor,
and always
gave them goods of uniform quality and at uniform price.
Before the advent of the American, the medium
of exchange between the
Indian and the white man was pelts. Afterward it was silver coin. If
an Indian received
in the sale of a horse a fifty dollar gold piece, not
an infrequent occurrence, the first thing he did was to exchange
it for
American half dollars. These he could count. He would then commence his
purchases, paying for each article
separately, as he got it. He would
not trust any one to add up the bill and pay it all at once. At that
day
fifty dollar gold pieces, not the issue of the government, were
common on the Pacific coast. They were called slugs.
The
Indians, along the lower Columbia as far as the Cascades and on the
lower Willamette, died off very fast during the year
I spent in that
section; for besides acquiring the vices of the white people they had
acquired also their diseases.
The measles and the small-pox were both
amazingly fatal. In their wild state, before the appearance of the
white
man among them, the principal complaints they were subject to were
those produced by long involuntary fasting, violent
exercise in pursuit
of game, and over-eating. Instinct more than reason had taught them a
remedy for these ills.
It was the steam bath. Something like a
bake-oven was built, large enough to admit a man lying down. Bushes were
stuck
in the ground in two rows, about six feet long and some two or
three feet apart; other bushes connected the rows at one
end. The tops
of the bushes were drawn together to interlace, and confined in that
position; the whole was then
plastered over with wet clay until every
opening was filled. Just inside the open end of the oven the floor was
scooped
out so as to make a hole that would hold a bucket or two of
water. These ovens were always built on the banks of a stream,
a big
spring, or pool of water. When a patient required a bath, a fire was
built near the oven and a pile of stones
put upon it. The cavity at the
front was then filled with water. When the stones were sufficiently
heated, the
patient would draw himself into the oven; a blanket would be
thrown over the open end, and hot stones put into the water
until the
patient could stand it no longer. He was then withdrawn from his steam
bath and doused into the cold
stream near by. This treatment may have
answered with the early ailments of the Indians. With the measles or
small-pox
it would kill every time.
During my year on the Columbia River, the small-pox exterminated one
small remnant of
a band of Indians entirely, and reduced others
materially. I do not think there was a case of recovery among them,
until
the doctor with the Hudson Bay Company took the matter in hand and
established a hospital. Nearly every case he treated
recovered. I
never, myself, saw the treatment described in the preceding paragraph,
but have heard it described
by persons who have witnessed it. The
decimation among the Indians I knew of personally, and the hospital,
established
for their benefit, was a Hudson's Bay building not a stone's
throw from my own quarters.
The death of Colonel Bliss,
of the Adjutant General's department, which
occurred July 5th, 1853, promoted me to the captaincy of a company then
stationed
at Humboldt Bay, California. The notice reached me in
September of the same year, and I very soon started to join
my new
command. There was no way of reaching Humboldt at that time except to
take passage on a San Francisco sailing
vessel going after lumber. Red
wood, a species of cedar, which on the Pacific coast takes the place
filled by
white pine in the East, then abounded on the banks of Humboldt
Bay. There were extensive saw-mills engaged in preparing
this lumber
for the San Francisco market, and sailing vessels, used in getting it to
market, furnished the only means
of communication between Humboldt and
the balance of the world.
I was obliged to remain in San Francisco for several
days before I found
a vessel. This gave me a good opportunity of comparing the San
Francisco of 1852 with that
of 1853. As before stated, there had been
but one wharf in front of the city in 1852--Long Wharf. In 1853 the
town
had grown out into the bay beyond what was the end of this wharf
when I first saw it. Streets and houses had been
built out on piles
where the year before the largest vessels visiting the port lay at
anchor or tied to the wharf.
There was no filling under the streets or
houses. San Francisco presented the same general appearance as the year
before;
that is, eating, drinking and gambling houses were conspicuous
for their number and publicity. They were on the first
floor, with
doors wide open. At all hours of the day and night in walking the
streets, the eye was regaled, on
every block near the water front, by
the sight of players at faro. Often broken places were found in the
street, large
enough to let a man down into the water below. I have but
little doubt that many of the people who went to the Pacific
coast in
the early days of the gold excitement, and have never been heard from
since, or who were heard from for a time
and then ceased to write, found
watery graves beneath the houses or streets built over San Francisco
Bay.
Besides
the gambling in cards there was gambling on a larger scale in
city lots. These were sold "On Change," much as stocks
are now sold on
Wall Street. Cash, at time of purchase, was always paid by the broker;
but the purchaser had only
to put up his margin. He was charged at the
rate of two or three per cent. a month on the difference, besides
commissions.
The sand hills, some of them almost inaccessible to
foot-passengers, were surveyed off and mapped into fifty vara lots--a
vara
being a Spanish yard. These were sold at first at very low prices,
but were sold and resold for higher prices until
they went up to many
thousands of dollars. The brokers did a fine business, and so did many
such purchasers as
were sharp enough to quit purchasing before the final
crash came. As the city grew, the sand hills back of the town
furnished
material for filling up the bay under the houses and streets, and still
further out. The temporary houses,
first built over the water in the
harbor, soon gave way to more solid structures. The main business part
of the
city now is on solid ground, made where vessels of the largest
class lay at anchor in the early days. I was in San
Francisco again in
1854. Gambling houses had disappeared from public view. The city had
become staid and
orderly.
CHAPTER XVI.
RESIGNATION--PRIVATE LIFE--LIFE AT GALENA--THE COMING
CRISIS.
My family, all this while, was at the East. It consisted now of a wife
and two children. I saw
no chance of supporting them on the Pacific
coast out of my pay as an army officer. I concluded, therefore, to
resign,
and in March applied for a leave of absence until the end of the
July following, tendering my resignation to take effect
at the end of
that time. I left the Pacific coast very much attached to it, and with
the full expectation of making
it my future home. That expectation and
that hope remained uppermost in my mind until the Lieutenant-Generalcy
bill
was introduced into Congress in the winter of 1863-4. The passage
of that bill, and my promotion, blasted my last
hope of ever becoming a
citizen of the further West.
In the late summer of 1854 I rejoined my family, to find in
it a son
whom I had never seen, born while I was on the Isthmus of Panama. I was
now to commence, at the age of
thirty-two, a new struggle for our
support. My wife had a farm near St. Louis, to which we went, but I had
no
means to stock it. A house had to be built also. I worked very
hard, never losing a day because of bad weather,
and accomplished the
object in a moderate way. If nothing else could be done I would load a
cord of wood on a
wagon and take it to the city for sale. I managed to
keep along very well until 1858, when I was attacked by fever
and ague.
I had suffered very severely and for a long time from this disease,
while a boy in Ohio. It lasted now
over a year, and, while it did not
keep me in the house, it did interfere greatly with the amount of work I
was able
to perform. In the fall of 1858 I sold out my stock, crops and
farming utensils at auction, and gave up farming.
In
the winter I established a partnership with Harry Boggs, a cousin of
Mrs. Grant, in the real estate agency business.
I spent that winter at
St. Louis myself, but did not take my family into town until the spring.
Our business might have
become prosperous if I had been able to wait for
it to grow. As it was, there was no more than one person could attend
to,
and not enough to support two families. While a citizen of St.
Louis and engaged in the real estate agency business,
I was a candidate
for the office of county engineer, an office of respectability and
emolument which would have been
very acceptable to me at that time. The
incumbent was appointed by the county court, which consisted of five
members.
My opponent had the advantage of birth over me (he was a
citizen by adoption) and carried off the prize. I now withdrew
from the
co-partnership with Boggs, and, in May, 1860, removed to Galena,
Illinois, and took a clerkship in my father's
store.
While a citizen of Missouri, my first opportunity for casting a vote at
a Presidential election occurred.
I had been in the army from before
attaining my majority and had thought but little about politics,
although I was a
Whig by education and a great admirer of Mr. Clay. But
the Whig party had ceased to exist before I had an opportunity
of
exercising the privilege of casting a ballot; the Know-Nothing party had
taken its place, but was on the wane; and
the Republican party was in a
chaotic state and had not yet received a name. It had no existence in
the Slave
States except at points on the borders next to Free States.
In St. Louis City and County, what afterwards became the Republican
party
was known as the Free-Soil Democracy, led by the Honorable Frank
P. Blair. Most of my neighbors had known me as an
officer of the army
with Whig proclivities. They had been on the same side, and, on the
death of their party,
many had become Know-Nothings, or members of the
American party. There was a lodge near my new home, and I was invited
to
join it. I accepted the invitation; was initiated; attended a meeting
just one week later, and never went to
another afterwards.
I have no apologies to make for having been one week a member of the
American party; for I still
think native-born citizens of the United
States should have as much protection, as many privileges in their
native country,
as those who voluntarily select it for a home. But all
secret, oath-bound political parties are dangerous to any
nation, no
matter how pure or how patriotic the motives and principles which first
bring them together. No political
party can or ought to exist when one
of its corner-stones is opposition to freedom of thought and to the
right to worship
God "according to the dictate of one's own conscience,"
or according to the creed of any religious denomination whatever.
Nevertheless,
if a sect sets up its laws as binding above the State
laws, wherever the two come in conflict this claim must be resisted
and
suppressed at whatever cost.
Up to the Mexican war there were a few out and out abolitionists, men
who carried
their hostility to slavery into all elections, from those
for a justice of the peace up to the Presidency of the United
States.
They were noisy but not numerous. But the great majority of people at
the North, where slavery did not
exist, were opposed to the institution,
and looked upon its existence in any part of the country as unfortunate.
They
did not hold the States where slavery existed responsible for it;
and believed that protection should be given to the right
of property in
slaves until some satisfactory way could be reached to be rid of the
institution. Opposition to
slavery was not a creed of either political
party. In some sections more anti-slavery men belonged to the
Democratic
party, and in others to the Whigs. But with the inauguration
of the Mexican war, in fact with the annexation of Texas,
"the
inevitable conflict" commenced.
As the time for the Presidential election of 1856--the first at which I
had
the opportunity of voting--approached, party feeling began to run
high. The Republican party was regarded in the
South and the border
States not only as opposed to the extension of slavery, but as favoring
the compulsory abolition
of the institution without compensation to the
owners. The most horrible visions seemed to present themselves to
the
minds of people who, one would suppose, ought to have known better.
Many educated and, otherwise, sensible persons
appeared to believe that
emancipation meant social equality. Treason to the Government was
openly advocated and
was not rebuked. It was evident to my mind that
the election of a Republican President in 1856 meant the secession
of
all the Slave States, and rebellion. Under these circumstances I
preferred the success of a candidate whose
election would prevent or
postpone secession, to seeing the country plunged into a war the end of
which no man could
foretell. With a Democrat elected by the unanimous
vote of the Slave States, there could be no pretext for secession
for
four years. I very much hoped that the passions of the people would
subside in that time, and the catastrophe
be averted altogether; if it
was not, I believed the country would be better prepared to receive the
shock and to resist
it. I therefore voted for James Buchanan for
President. Four years later the Republican party was successful
in
electing its candidate to the Presidency. The civilized world has
learned the consequence. Four millions
of human beings held as chattels
have been liberated; the ballot has been given to them; the free schools
of the country
have been opened to their children. The nation still
lives, and the people are just as free to avoid social intimacy
with the
blacks as ever they were, or as they are with white people.
While living in Galena I was nominally only
a clerk supporting myself
and family on a stipulated salary. In reality my position was
different. My father
had never lived in Galena himself, but had
established my two brothers there, the one next younger than myself in
charge
of the business, assisted by the youngest. When I went there it
was my father's intention to give up all connection
with the business
himself, and to establish his three sons in it: but the brother who had
really built up the
business was sinking with consumption, and it was
not thought best to make any change while he was in this condition.
He
lived until September, 1861, when he succumbed to that insidious disease
which always flatters its victims into the
belief that they are growing
better up to the close of life. A more honorable man never transacted
business.
In September, 1861, I was engaged in an employment which
required all my attention elsewhere.
During the eleven
months that I lived in Galena prior to the first call
for volunteers, I had been strictly attentive to my business, and
had
made but few acquaintances other than customers and people engaged in
the same line with myself. When the
election took place in November,
1860, I had not been a resident of Illinois long enough to gain
citizenship and could
not, therefore, vote. I was really glad of this
at the time, for my pledges would have compelled me to vote for Stephen
A.
Douglas, who had no possible chance of election. The contest was
really between Mr. Breckinridge and Mr. Lincoln;
between minority rule
and rule by the majority. I wanted, as between these candidates, to see
Mr. Lincoln elected.
Excitement ran high during the canvass, and
torch-light processions enlivened the scene in the generally quiet
streets
of Galena many nights during the campaign. I did not parade
with either party, but occasionally met with the "wide
awakes"
--Republicans--in their rooms, and superintended their drill. It was
evident, from the time of the Chicago
nomination to the close of the
canvass, that the election of the Republican candidate would be the
signal for some of
the Southern States to secede. I still had hopes
that the four years which had elapsed since the first nomination
of a
Presidential candidate by a party distinctly opposed to slavery
extension, had given time for the extreme pro-slavery
sentiment to cool
down; for the Southerners to think well before they took the awful leap
which they had so vehemently
threatened. But I was mistaken.
The Republican candidate was elected, and solid substantial people of
the
North-west, and I presume the same order of people throughout the
entire North, felt very serious, but determined, after
this event. It
was very much discussed whether the South would carry out its threat to
secede and set up a separate
government, the corner-stone of which
should be, protection to the "Divine" institution of slavery. For there
were
people who believed in the "divinity" of human slavery, as there
are now people who believe Mormonism and Polygamy to be
ordained by the
Most High. We forgive them for entertaining such notions, but forbid
their practice. It
was generally believed that there would be a flurry;
that some of the extreme Southern States would go so far as to pass
ordinances
of secession. But the common impression was that this step
was so plainly suicidal for the South, that the movement
would not
spread over much of the territory and would not last long.
Doubtless the founders of our government, the
majority of them at least,
regarded the confederation of the colonies as an experiment. Each
colony considered
itself a separate government; that the confederation
was for mutual protection against a foreign foe, and the prevention
of
strife and war among themselves. If there had been a desire on the part
of any single State to withdraw from
the compact at any time while the
number of States was limited to the original thirteen, I do not suppose
there would
have been any to contest the right, no matter how much the
determination might have been regretted. The problem changed
on the
ratification of the Constitution by all the colonies; it changed still
more when amendments were added; and if
the right of any one State to
withdraw continued to exist at all after the ratification of the
Constitution, it certainly
ceased on the formation of new States, at
least so far as the new States themselves were concerned. It was never
possessed
at all by Florida or the States west of the Mississippi, all
of which were purchased by the treasury of the entire nation.
Texas and
the territory brought into the Union in consequence of annexation, were
purchased with both blood and treasure;
and Texas, with a domain greater
than that of any European state except Russia, was permitted to retain
as state property
all the public lands within its borders. It would
have been ingratitude and injustice of the most flagrant sort for
this
State to withdraw from the Union after all that had been spent and done
to introduce her; yet, if separation had
actually occurred, Texas must
necessarily have gone with the South, both on account of her
institutions and her geographical
position. Secession was illogical as
well as impracticable; it was revolution.
Now, the right of revolution is an
inherent one. When people are
oppressed by their government, it is a natural right they enjoy to
relieve themselves
of the oppression, if they are strong enough, either
by withdrawal from it, or by overthrowing it and substituting a
government
more acceptable. But any people or part of a people who
resort to this remedy, stake their lives, their property,
and every
claim for protection given by citizenship--on the issue. Victory, or
the conditions imposed by the conqueror--must
be the result.
In the case of the war between the States it would have been the exact
truth if the South had said,--"We
do not want to live with you Northern
people any longer; we know our institution of slavery is obnoxious to
you, and,
as you are growing numerically stronger than we, it may at
some time in the future be endangered. So long as you
permitted us to
control the government, and with the aid of a few friends at the North
to enact laws constituting your
section a guard against the escape of
our property, we were willing to live with you. You have been
submissive
to our rule heretofore; but it looks now as if you did not
intend to continue so, and we will remain in the Union no longer."
Instead
of this the seceding States cried lustily,--"Let us alone; you
have no constitutional power to interfere with us."
Newspapers and
people at the North reiterated the cry. Individuals might ignore the
constitution; but the Nation
itself must not only obey it, but must
enforce the strictest construction of that instrument; the construction
put upon
it by the Southerners themselves. The fact is the constitution
did not apply to any such contingency as the one existing
from 1861 to
1865. Its framers never dreamed of such a contingency occurring. If
they had foreseen it, the
probabilities are they would have sanctioned
the right of a State or States to withdraw rather than that there should
be
war between brothers.
The framers were wise in their generation and wanted to do the very best
possible to secure
their own liberty and independence, and that also of
their descendants to the latest days. It is preposterous to
suppose
that the people of one generation can lay down the best and only rules
of government for all who are to come
after them, and under unforeseen
contingencies. At the time of the framing of our constitution the only
physical
forces that had been subdued and made to serve man and do his
labor, were the currents in the streams and in the air we
breathe. Rude
machinery, propelled by water power, had been invented; sails to propel
ships upon the waters had been
set to catch the passing breeze--but the
application of stream to propel vessels against both wind and current,
and
machinery to do all manner of work had not been thought of. The
instantaneous transmission of messages around the
world by means of
electricity would probably at that day have been attributed to
witchcraft or a league with the Devil.
Immaterial circumstances had
changed as greatly as material ones. We could not and ought not to be
rigidly bound
by the rules laid down under circumstances so different
for emergencies so utterly unanticipated. The fathers themselves
would
have been the first to declare that their prerogatives were not
irrevocable. They would surely have resisted
secession could they have
lived to see the shape it assumed.
I travelled through the Northwest considerably during
the winter of
1860-1. We had customers in all the little towns in south-west
Wisconsin, south-east Minnesota and
north-east Iowa. These generally
knew I had been a captain in the regular army and had served through the
Mexican
war. Consequently wherever I stopped at night, some of the
people would come to the public-house where I was, and
sit till a late
hour discussing the probabilities of the future. My own views at that
time were like those officially
expressed by Mr. Seward at a later day,
that "the war would be over in ninety days." I continued to entertain
these
views until after the battle of Shiloh. I believe now that there
would have been no more battles at the West after
the capture of Fort
Donelson if all the troops in that region had been under a single
commander who would have followed
up that victory.
There is little doubt in my mind now that the prevailing sentiment of
the South would have been
opposed to secession in 1860 and 1861, if
there had been a fair and calm expression of opinion, unbiased by
threats,
and if the ballot of one legal voter had counted for as much as
that of any other. But there was no calm discussion
of the question.
Demagogues who were too old to enter the army if there should be a war,
others who entertained so high
an opinion of their own ability that they
did not believe they could be spared from the direction of the affairs
of
state in such an event, declaimed vehemently and unceasingly against
the North; against its aggressions upon the South;
its interference with
Southern rights, etc., etc. They denounced the Northerners as cowards,
poltroons, negro-worshippers;
claimed that one Southern man was equal to
five Northern men in battle; that if the South would stand up for its
rights
the North would back down. Mr. Jefferson Davis said in a speech,
delivered at La Grange, Mississippi, before the
secession of that State,
that he would agree to drink all the blood spilled south of Mason and
Dixon's line if there
should be a war. The young men who would have the
fighting to do in case of war, believed all these statements, both
in
regard to the aggressiveness of the North and its cowardice. They, too,
cried out for a separation from such
people. The great bulk of the
legal voters of the South were men who owned no slaves; their homes were
generally
in the hills and poor country; their facilities for educating
their children, even up to the point of reading and writing,
were very
limited; their interest in the contest was very meagre--what there was,
if they had been capable of seeing
it, was with the North; they too
needed emancipation. Under the old regime they were looked down upon by
those
who controlled all the affairs in the interest of slave-owners, as
poor white trash who were allowed the ballot so long
as they cast it
according to direction.
I am aware that this last statement may be disputed and individual
testimony
perhaps adduced to show that in ante-bellum days the ballot
was as untrammelled in the south as in any section of the country;
but
in the face of any such contradiction I reassert the statement. The
shot-gun was not resorted to. Masked
men did not ride over the country
at night intimidating voters; but there was a firm feeling that a class
existed in
every State with a sort of divine right to control public
affairs. If they could not get this control by one means
they must by
another. The end justified the means. The coercion, if mild, was
complete.
There were
two political parties, it is true, in all the States, both
strong in numbers and respectability, but both equally loyal
to the
institution which stood paramount in Southern eyes to all other
institutions in state or nation. The slave-owners
were the minority,
but governed both parties. Had politics ever divided the slave-holders
and the non-slave-holders,
the majority would have been obliged to
yield, or internecine war would have been the consequence. I do not
know
that the Southern people were to blame for this condition of
affairs. There was a time when slavery was not profitable,
and the
discussion of the merits of the institution was confined almost
exclusively to the territory where it existed.
The States of Virginia
and Kentucky came near abolishing slavery by their own acts, one State
defeating the measure
by a tie vote and the other only lacking one. But
when the institution became profitable, all talk of its abolition
ceased
where it existed; and naturally, as human nature is constituted,
arguments were adduced in its support.
The cotton-gin probably had much
to do with the justification of slavery.
The winter of 1860-1 will be remembered
by middle-aged people of to-day
as one of great excitement. South Carolina promptly seceded after the
result of
the Presidential election was known. Other Southern States
proposed to follow. In some of them the Union sentiment
was so strong
that it had to be suppressed by force. Maryland, Delaware, Kentucky and
Missouri, all Slave States,
failed to pass ordinances of secession; but
they were all represented in the so-called congress of the so-called
Confederate
States. The Governor and Lieutenant-Governor of Missouri,
in 1861, Jackson and Reynolds, were both supporters of
the rebellion and
took refuge with the enemy. The governor soon died, and the
lieutenant-governor assumed his
office; issued proclamations as governor
of the State; was recognized as such by the Confederate Government, and
continued
his pretensions until the collapse of the rebellion. The South
claimed the sovereignty of States, but claimed the right
to coerce into
their confederation such States as they wanted, that is, all the States
where slavery existed.
They did not seem to think this course
inconsistent. The fact is, the Southern slave-owners believed that, in
some
way, the ownership of slaves conferred a sort of patent of
nobility--a right to govern independent of the interest or wishes
of
those who did not hold such property. They convinced themselves, first,
of the divine origin of the institution
and, next, that that particular
institution was not safe in the hands of any body of legislators but
themselves.
Meanwhile
the Administration of President Buchanan looked helplessly on
and proclaimed that the general government had no power to
interfere;
that the Nation had no power to save its own life. Mr. Buchanan had in
his cabinet two members at least,
who were as earnest--to use a mild
term--in the cause of secession as Mr. Davis or any Southern statesman.
One of them,
Floyd, the Secretary of War, scattered the army so that
much of it could be captured when hostilities should commence,
and
distributed the cannon and small arms from Northern arsenals throughout
the South so as to be on hand when treason
wanted them. The navy was
scattered in like manner. The President did not prevent his cabinet
preparing
for war upon their government, either by destroying its
resources or storing them in the South until a de facto government
was
established with Jefferson Davis as its President, and Montgomery,
Alabama, as the Capital. The secessionists
had then to leave the
cabinet. In their own estimation they were aliens in the country which
had given them birth.
Loyal men were put into their places. Treason in
the executive branch of the government was estopped. But the
harm had
already been done. The stable door was locked after the horse had been
stolen.
During all of the
trying winter of 1860-1, when the Southerners were so
defiant that they would not allow within their borders the expression
of
a sentiment hostile to their views, it was a brave man indeed who could
stand up and proclaim his loyalty to the
Union. On the other hand men
at the North--prominent men--proclaimed that the government had no power
to coerce
the South into submission to the laws of the land; that if the
North undertook to raise armies to go south, these armies
would have to
march over the dead bodies of the speakers. A portion of the press of
the North was constantly proclaiming
similar views. When the time
arrived for the President-elect to go to the capital of the Nation to be
sworn into office,
it was deemed unsafe for him to travel, not only as a
President-elect, but as any private citizen should be allowed to
do.
Instead of going in a special car, receiving the good wishes of his
constituents at all the stations along the road,
he was obliged to stop
on the way and to be smuggled into the capital. He disappeared from
public view on his
journey, and the next the country knew, his arrival
was announced at the capital. There is little doubt that he would
have
been assassinated if he had attempted to travel openly throughout his
journey.
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.
The 4th of March, 1861, came, and Abraham Lincoln was sworn to maintain
the Union against
all its enemies. The secession of one State after
another followed, until eleven had gone out. On the 11th
of April Fort
Sumter, a National fort in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, was
fired upon by the Southerners
and a few days after was captured. The
Confederates proclaimed themselves aliens, and thereby debarred
themselves
of all right to claim protection under the Constitution of
the United States. We did not admit the fact that they
were aliens, but
all the same, they debarred themselves of the right to expect better
treatment than people of any other
foreign state who make war upon an
independent nation. Upon the firing on Sumter President Lincoln issued
his
first call for troops and soon after a proclamation convening
Congress in extra session. The call was for 75,000
volunteers for
ninety days' service. If the shot fired at Fort Sumter "was heard
around the world," the call of
the President for 75,000 men was heard
throughout the Northern States. There was not a state in the North of a
million
of inhabitants that would not have furnished the entire number
faster than arms could have been supplied to them, if it
had been
necessary.
As soon as the news of the call for volunteers reached Galena, posters
were stuck up calling
for a meeting of the citizens at the court-house
in the evening. Business ceased entirely; all was excitement; for
a
time there were no party distinctions; all were Union men, determined to
avenge the insult to the national flag.
In the evening the court-house
was packed. Although a comparative stranger I was called upon to
preside; the sole
reason, possibly, was that I had been in the army and
had seen service. With much embarrassment and some prompting
I made out
to announce the object of the meeting. Speeches were in order, but it
is doubtful whether it would
have been safe just then to make other than
patriotic ones. There was probably no one in the house, however, who
felt
like making any other. The two principal speeches were by B. B.
Howard, the post-master and a Breckinridge Democrat
at the November
election the fall before, and John A. Rawlins, an elector on the Douglas
ticket. E. B. Washburne,
with whom I was not acquainted at that time,
came in after the meeting had been organized, and expressed, I
understood
afterwards, a little surprise that Galena could not furnish a
presiding officer for such an occasion without taking a stranger.
He
came forward and was introduced, and made a speech appealing to the
patriotism of the meeting.
After the speaking
was over volunteers were called for to form a
company. The quota of Illinois had been fixed at six regiments; and
it
was supposed that one company would be as much as would be accepted from
Galena. The company was raised and
the officers and non-commissioned
officers elected before the meeting adjourned. I declined the captaincy
before
the balloting, but announced that I would aid the company in
every way I could and would be found in the service in some
position if
there should be a war. I never went into our leather store after that
meeting, to put up a package
or do other business.
The ladies of Galena were quite as patriotic as the men. They could not
enlist, but
they conceived the idea of sending their first company to
the field uniformed. They came to me to get a description
of the United
States uniform for infantry; subscribed and bought the material;
procured tailors to cut out the garments,
and the ladies made them up.
In a few days the company was in uniform and ready to report at the
State capital for assignment.
The men all turned out the morning after
their enlistment, and I took charge, divided them into squads and
superintended
their drill. When they were ready to go to Springfield I
went with them and remained there until they were assigned
to a
regiment.
There were so many more volunteers than had been called for that the
question whom to accept was
quite embarrassing to the governor, Richard
Yates. The legislature was in session at the time, however, and came
to
his relief. A law was enacted authorizing the governor to accept the
services of ten additional regiments,
one from each congressional
district, for one month, to be paid by the State, but pledged to go into
the service of
the United States if there should be a further call
during their term. Even with this relief the governor was still
very
much embarrassed. Before the war was over he was like the President
when he was taken with the varioloid:
"at last he had something he
could give to all who wanted it."
In time the Galena company was mustered into the
United States service,
forming a part of the 11th Illinois volunteer infantry. My duties, I
thought, had ended
at Springfield, and I was prepared to start home by
the evening train, leaving at nine o'clock. Up to that time I
do not
think I had been introduced to Governor Yates, or had ever spoken to
him. I knew him by sight, however,
because he was living at the same
hotel and I often saw him at table. The evening I was to quit the
capital I
left the supper room before the governor and was standing at
the front door when he came out. He spoke to me, calling
me by my old
army title "Captain," and said he understood that I was about leaving
the city. I answered that I
was. He said he would be glad if I would
remain over-night and call at the Executive office the next morning.
I
complied with his request, and was asked to go into the
Adjutant-General's office and render such assistance as I could,
the
governor saying that my army experience would be of great service there.
I accepted the proposition.
My old
army experience I found indeed of very great service. I was no
clerk, nor had I any capacity to become one.
The only place I ever
found in my life to put a paper so as to find it again was either a side
coat-pocket or the hands
of a clerk or secretary more careful than
myself. But I had been quartermaster, commissary and adjutant in the
field.
The army forms were familiar to me and I could direct how they
should be made out. There was a clerk in the office
of the
Adjutant-General who supplied my deficiencies. The ease with which the
State of Illinois settled its accounts
with the government at the close
of the war is evidence of the efficiency of Mr. Loomis as an accountant
on a large
scale. He remained in the office until that time.
As I have stated, the legislature authorized the governor to
accept the
services of ten additional regiments. I had charge of mustering these
regiments into the State service.
They were assembled at the most
convenient railroad centres in their respective congressional districts.
I detailed
officers to muster in a portion of them, but mustered three
in the southern part of the State myself. One of these
was to assemble
at Belleville, some eighteen miles south-east of St. Louis. When I got
there I found that only
one or two companies had arrived. There was no
probability of the regiment coming together under five days. This
gave
me a few idle days which I concluded to spend in St. Louis.
There was a considerable force of State militia
at Camp Jackson, on the
outskirts of St. Louis, at the time. There is but little doubt that it
was the design
of Governor Claiborn Jackson to have these troops ready
to seize the United States arsenal and the city of St. Louis.
Why they
did not do so I do not know. There was but a small garrison, two
companies I think, under Captain N. Lyon at
the arsenal, and but for the
timely services of the Hon. F. P. Blair, I have little doubt that St.
Louis would have
gone into rebel hands, and with it the arsenal with all
its arms and ammunition.
Blair was a leader among the Union
men of St. Louis in 1861. There was
no State government in Missouri at the time that would sanction the
raising of troops
or commissioned officers to protect United States
property, but Blair had probably procured some form of authority from
the
President to raise troops in Missouri and to muster them into the
service of the United States. At all events, he
did raise a regiment
and took command himself as Colonel. With this force he reported to
Captain Lyon and placed
himself and regiment under his orders. It was
whispered that Lyon thus reinforced intended to break up Camp Jackson
and
capture the militia. I went down to the arsenal in the morning to
see the troops start out. I had known Lyon
for two years at West Point
and in the old army afterwards. Blair I knew very well by sight. I had
heard
him speak in the canvass of 1858, possibly several times, but I
had never spoken to him. As the troops marched out
of the enclosure
around the arsenal, Blair was on his horse outside forming them into
line preparatory to their march.
I introduced myself to him and had a
few moments' conversation and expressed my sympathy with his purpose.
This was
my first personal acquaintance with the Honorable--afterwards
Major-General F. P. Blair. Camp Jackson surrendered
without a fight and
the garrison was marched down to the arsenal as prisoners of war.
Up to this time the enemies
of the government in St. Louis had been bold
and defiant, while Union men were quiet but determined. The enemies
had
their head-quarters in a central and public position on Pine Street,
near Fifth--from which the rebel flag was flaunted
boldly. The Union
men had a place of meeting somewhere in the city, I did not know where,
and I doubt whether
they dared to enrage the enemies of the government
by placing the national flag outside their head-quarters. As soon
as
the news of the capture of Camp Jackson reached the city the condition
of affairs was changed. Union men became
rampant, aggressive, and, if
you will, intolerant. They proclaimed their sentiments boldly, and were
impatient
at anything like disrespect for the Union. The secessionists
became quiet but were filled with suppressed rage.
They had been
playing the bully. The Union men ordered the rebel flag taken down from
the building on Pine Street.
The command was given in tones of
authority and it was taken down, never to be raised again in St. Louis.
I witnessed
the scene. I had heard of the surrender of the camp and
that the garrison was on its way to the arsenal. I
had seen the troops
start out in the morning and had wished them success. I now determined
to go to the arsenal
and await their arrival and congratulate them. I
stepped on a car standing at the corner of 4th and Pine streets,
and saw
a crowd of people standing quietly in front of the head-quarters, who
were there for the purpose of hauling
down the flag. There were squads
of other people at intervals down the street. They too were quiet but
filled
with suppressed rage, and muttered their resentment at the insult
to, what they called, "their" flag. Before the
car I was in had
started, a dapper little fellow--he would be called a dude at this day
--stepped in. He was in
a great state of excitement and used adjectives
freely to express his contempt for the Union and for those who had just
perpetrated
such an outrage upon the rights of a free people. There was
only one other passenger in the car besides myself when
this young man
entered. He evidently expected to find nothing but sympathy when he got
away from the "mud sills"
engaged in compelling a "free people" to pull
down a flag they adored. He turned to me saying: "Things have
come to
a ---- pretty pass when a free people can't choose their own flag.
Where I came from if a man dares to say a
word in favor of the Union we
hang him to a limb of the first tree we come to." I replied that "after
all we were
not so intolerant in St. Louis as we might be; I had not
seen a single rebel hung yet, nor heard of one; there were plenty
of
them who ought to be, however." The young man subsided. He was so
crestfallen that I believe if I had
ordered him to leave the car he
would have gone quietly out, saying to himself: "More Yankee
oppression."
By
nightfall the late defenders of Camp Jackson were all within the
walls of the St. Louis arsenal, prisoners of war.
The next day I left
St. Louis for Mattoon, Illinois, where I was to muster in the regiment
from that congressional district.
This was the 21st Illinois infantry,
the regiment of which I subsequently became colonel. I mustered one
regiment
afterwards, when my services for the State were about closed.
Brigadier-General John Pope was stationed at Springfield,
as United
States mustering officer, all the time I was in the State service. He
was a native of Illinois and well
acquainted with most of the prominent
men in the State. I was a carpet-bagger and knew but few of them.
While
I was on duty at Springfield the senators, representatives in
Congress, ax-governors and the State legislators were nearly
all at the
State capital. The only acquaintance I made among them was with the
governor, whom I was serving, and,
by chance, with Senator S. A.
Douglas. The only members of Congress I knew were Washburne and Philip
Foulk.
With the former, though he represented my district and we were
citizens of the same town, I only became acquainted at the
meeting when
the first company of Galena volunteers was raised. Foulk I had known in
St. Louis when I was a citizen
of that city. I had been three years at
West Point with Pope and had served with him a short time during the
Mexican
war, under General Taylor. I saw a good deal of him during my
service with the State. On one occasion he said
to me that I ought to
go into the United States service. I told him I intended to do so if
there was a war.
He spoke of his acquaintance with the public men of
the State, and said he could get them to recommend me for a position
and
that he would do all he could for me. I declined to receive endorsement
for permission to fight for my country.
Going
home for a day or two soon after this conversation with General
Pope, I wrote from Galena the following letter to the Adjutant-General
of
the Army.
GALENA, ILLINOIS, May 24, 1861.
COL. L. THOMAS Adjt. Gen. U. S. A., Washington, D.
C.
SIR:--Having served for fifteen years in the regular army, including
four years at West Point, and feeling it
the duty of every one who has
been educated at the Government expense to offer their services for the
support of that
Government, I have the honor, very respectfully, to
tender my services, until the close of the war, in such capacity as
may
be offered. I would say, in view of my present age and length of
service, I feel myself competent to command
a regiment, if the
President, in his judgment, should see fit to intrust one to me.
Since the first call of the
President I have been serving on the staff
of the Governor of this State, rendering such aid as I could in the
organization
of our State militia, and am still engaged in that
capacity. A letter addressed to me at Springfield, Illinois, will
reach
me.
I am very respectfully, Your obt. svt., U. S. GRANT.
This letter failed to elicit an answer
from the Adjutant-General of the
Army. I presume it was hardly read by him, and certainly it could not
have been
submitted to higher authority. Subsequent to the war General
Badeau having heard of this letter applied to the War Department
for a
copy of it. The letter could not be found and no one recollected ever
having seen it. I took no copy
when it was written. Long after the
application of General Badeau, General Townsend, who had become
Adjutant-General
of the Army, while packing up papers preparatory to the
removal of his office, found this letter in some out-of-the-way
place.
It had not been destroyed, but it had not been regularly filed away.
I felt some hesitation in suggesting
rank as high as the colonelcy of a
regiment, feeling somewhat doubtful whether I would be equal to the
position.
But I had seen nearly every colonel who had been mustered in
from the State of Illinois, and some from Indiana, and felt
that if they
could command a regiment properly, and with credit, I could also.
Having but little to do after the
muster of the last of the regiments
authorized by the State legislature, I asked and obtained of the
governor leave
of absence for a week to visit my parents in Covington,
Kentucky, immediately opposite Cincinnati. General McClellan
had been
made a major-general and had his headquarters at Cincinnati. In reality
I wanted to see him. I
had known him slightly at West Point, where we
served one year together, and in the Mexican war. I was in hopes that
when
he saw me he would offer me a position on his staff. I called on
two successive days at his office but failed to
see him on either
occasion, and returned to Springfield.
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.
While I was absent from the State capital on this occasion the
President's
second call for troops was issued. This time it was for
300,000 men, for three years or the war. This brought
into the United
States service all the regiments then in the State service. These had
elected their officers from
highest to lowest and were accepted with
their organizations as they were, except in two instances. A Chicago
regiment,
the 19th infantry, had elected a very young man to the
colonelcy. When it came to taking the field the regiment asked
to have
another appointed colonel and the one they had previously chosen made
lieutenant-colonel. The 21st regiment
of infantry, mustered in by me at
Mattoon, refused to go into the service with the colonel of their
selection in any
position. While I was still absent Governor Yates
appointed me colonel of this latter regiment. A few days
after I was in
charge of it and in camp on the fair grounds near Springfield.
My regiment was composed in large
part of young men of as good social
position as any in their section of the State. It embraced the sons of
farmers,
lawyers, physicians, politicians, merchants, bankers and
ministers, and some men of maturer years who had filled such positions
themselves.
There were also men in it who could be led astray; and the
colonel, elected by the votes of the regiment, had proved to
be fully
capable of developing all there was in his men of recklessness. It was
said that he even went so far
at times as to take the guard from their
posts and go with them to the village near by and make a night of it.
When
there came a prospect of battle the regiment wanted to have some
one else to lead them. I found it very hard work
for a few days to
bring all the men into anything like subordination; but the great
majority favored discipline, and
by the application of a little regular
army punishment all were reduced to as good discipline as one could ask.
The
ten regiments which had volunteered in the State service for thirty
days, it will be remembered, had done so with a pledge
to go into the
National service if called upon within that time. When they volunteered
the government had only called
for ninety days' enlistments. Men were
called now for three years or the war. They felt that this change of
period
released them from the obligation of re-volunteering. When I was
appointed colonel, the 21st regiment was still in
the State service.
About the time they were to be mustered into the United States service,
such of them as would go,
two members of Congress from the State,
McClernand and Logan, appeared at the capital and I was introduced to
them.
I had never seen either of them before, but I had read a great
deal about them, and particularly about Logan, in the newspapers.
Both
were democratic members of Congress, and Logan had been elected from the
southern district of the State, where
he had a majority of eighteen
thousand over his Republican competitor. His district had been settled
originally
by people from the Southern States, and at the breaking out
of secession they sympathized with the South. At the
first outbreak of
war some of them joined the Southern army; many others were preparing to
do so; others rode over the
country at night denouncing the Union, and
made it as necessary to guard railroad bridges over which National
troops
had to pass in southern Illinois, as it was in Kentucky or any of
the border slave states. Logan's popularity in
this district was
unbounded. He knew almost enough of the people in it by their Christian
names, to form an ordinary
congressional district. As he went in
politics, so his district was sure to go. The Republican papers had
been
demanding that he should announce where he stood on the questions
which at that time engrossed the whole of public thought.
Some were
very bitter in their denunciations of his silence. Logan was not a man
to be coerced into an utterance
by threats. He did, however, come out
in a speech before the adjournment of the special session of Congress
which
was convened by the President soon after his inauguration, and
announced his undying loyalty and devotion to the Union.
But I had not
happened to see that speech, so that when I first met Logan my
impressions were those formed from reading
denunciations of him.
McClernand, on the other hand, had early taken strong grounds for the
maintenance of the Union
and had been praised accordingly by the
Republican papers. The gentlemen who presented these two members of
Congress
asked me if I would have any objections to their addressing my
regiment. I hesitated a little before answering.
It was but a few days
before the time set for mustering into the United States service such of
the men as were willing
to volunteer for three years or the war. I had
some doubt as to the effect a speech from Logan might have; but as
he
was with McClernand, whose sentiments on the all-absorbing questions of
the day were well known, I gave my consent.
McClernand spoke first; and
Logan followed in a speech which he has hardly equalled since for force
and eloquence.
It breathed a loyalty and devotion to the Union which
inspired my men to such a point that they would have volunteered
to
remain in the army as long as an enemy of the country continued to bear
arms against it. They entered the United
States service almost to a
man.
General Logan went to his part of the State and gave his attention to
raising
troops. The very men who at first made it necessary to guard
the roads in southern Illinois became the defenders
of the Union. Logan
entered the service himself as colonel of a regiment and rapidly rose to
the rank of major-general.
His district, which had promised at first to
give much trouble to the government, filled every call made upon it for
troops,
without resorting to the draft. There was no call made when
there were not more volunteers than were asked for. That
congressional
district stands credited at the War Department to-day with furnishing
more men for the army than it was
called on to supply.
I remained in Springfield with my regiment until the 3d of July, when I
was ordered to Quincy,
Illinois. By that time the regiment was in a
good state of discipline and the officers and men were well up in the
company
drill. There was direct railroad communication between
Springfield and Quincy, but I thought it would be good preparation
for
the troops to march there. We had no transportation for our camp and
garrison equipage, so wagons were hired
for the occasion and on the 3d
of July we started. There was no hurry, but fair marches were made
every day until
the Illinois River was crossed. There I was overtaken
by a dispatch saying that the destination of the regiment had
been
changed to Ironton, Missouri, and ordering me to halt where I was and
await the arrival of a steamer which had
been dispatched up the Illinois
River to take the regiment to St. Louis. The boat, when it did come,
grounded
on a sand-bar a few miles below where we were in camp. We
remained there several days waiting to have the boat get
off the bar,
but before this occurred news came that an Illinois regiment was
surrounded by rebels at a point on the
Hannibal and St. Joe Railroad
some miles west of Palmyra, in Missouri, and I was ordered to proceed
with all dispatch
to their relief. We took the cars and reached Quincy
in a few hours.
When I left Galena for the last time
to take command of the 21st
regiment I took with me my oldest son, Frederick D. Grant, then a lad of
eleven years of
age. On receiving the order to take rail for Quincy I
wrote to Mrs. Grant, to relieve what I supposed would be her
great
anxiety for one so young going into danger, that I would send Fred home
from Quincy by river. I received
a prompt letter in reply decidedly
disapproving my proposition, and urging that the lad should be allowed
to accompany
me. It came too late. Fred was already on his way up the
Mississippi bound for Dubuque, Iowa, from which place
there was a
railroad to Galena.
My sensations as we approached what I supposed might be "a field of
battle" were
anything but agreeable. I had been in all the engagements
in Mexico that it was possible for one person to be in;
but not in
command. If some one else had been colonel and I had been
lieutenant-colonel I do not think I would
have felt any trepidation.
Before we were prepared to cross the Mississippi River at Quincy my
anxiety was relieved;
for the men of the besieged regiment came
straggling into town. I am inclined to think both sides got frightened
and
ran away.
I took my regiment to Palmyra and remained there for a few days, until
relieved by the 19th Illinois infantry.
From Palmyra I proceeded to
Salt River, the railroad bridge over which had been destroyed by the
enemy. Colonel
John M. Palmer at that time commanded the 13th Illinois,
which was acting as a guard to workmen who were engaged in rebuilding
this
bridge. Palmer was my senior and commanded the two regiments as
long as we remained together. The bridge was
finished in about two
weeks, and I received orders to move against Colonel Thomas Harris, who
was said to be encamped
at the little town of Florida, some twenty-five
miles south of where we then were.
At the time of which I now write
we had no transportation and the
country about Salt River was sparsely settled, so that it took some days
to collect
teams and drivers enough to move the camp and garrison
equipage of a regiment nearly a thousand strong, together with a
week's
supply of provision and some ammunition. While preparations for the
move were going on I felt quite comfortable;
but when we got on the road
and found every house deserted I was anything but easy. In the
twenty-five miles we
had to march we did not see a person, old or young,
male or female, except two horsemen who were on a road that crossed
ours.
As soon as they saw us they decamped as fast as their horses
could carry them. I kept my men in the ranks and forbade
their entering
any of the deserted houses or taking anything from them. We halted at
night on the road and proceeded
the next morning at an early hour.
Harris had been encamped in a creek bottom for the sake of being near
water. The
hills on either side of the creek extend to a considerable
height, possibly more than a hundred feet. As we approached
the brow of
the hill from which it was expected we could see Harris' camp, and
possibly find his men ready formed to
meet us, my heart kept getting
higher and higher until it felt to me as though it was in my throat. I
would have
given anything then to have been back in Illinois, but I had
not the moral courage to halt and consider what to do; I kept
right on.
When we reached a point from which the valley below was in full view I
halted. The place where Harris had
been encamped a few days before was
still there and the marks of a recent encampment were plainly visible,
but the troops
were gone. My heart resumed its place. It occurred to
me at once that Harris had been as much afraid of me
as I had been of
him. This was a view of the question I had never taken before; but it
was one I never forgot afterwards.
From that event to the close of the
war, I never experienced trepidation upon confronting an enemy, though I
always
felt more or less anxiety. I never forgot that he had as much
reason to fear my forces as I had his. The lesson
was valuable.
Inquiries at the village of Florida divulged the fact that Colonel
Harris, learning of my intended
movement, while my transportation was
being collected took time by the forelock and left Florida before I had
started
from Salt River. He had increased the distance between us by
forty miles. The next day I started back to my
old camp at Salt River
bridge. The citizens living on the line of our march had returned to
their houses after
we passed, and finding everything in good order,
nothing carried away, they were at their front doors ready to greet us
now.
They had evidently been led to believe that the National troops
carried death and devastation with them wherever they went.
In
a short time after our return to Salt River bridge I was ordered with
my regiment to the town of Mexico. General
Pope was then commanding the
district embracing all of the State of Missouri between the Mississippi
and Missouri rivers,
with his headquarters in the village of Mexico. I
was assigned to the command of a sub-district embracing the troops
in
the immediate neighborhood, some three regiments of infantry and a
section of artillery. There was one regiment
encamped by the side of
mine. I assumed command of the whole and the first night sent the
commander of the other
regiment the parole and countersign. Not wishing
to be outdone in courtesy, he immediately sent me the countersign
for
his regiment for the night. When he was informed that the countersign
sent to him was for use with his regiment
as well as mine, it was
difficult to make him understand that this was not an unwarranted
interference of one colonel
over another. No doubt he attributed it for
the time to the presumption of a graduate of West Point over a volunteer
pure
and simple. But the question was soon settled and we had no
further trouble.
My arrival in Mexico had been
preceded by that of two or three regiments
in which proper discipline had not been maintained, and the men had been
in
the habit of visiting houses without invitation and helping
themselves to food and drink, or demanding them from the occupants.
They
carried their muskets while out of camp and made every man they
found take the oath of allegiance to the government.
I at once
published orders prohibiting the soldiers from going into private houses
unless invited by the inhabitants,
and from appropriating private
property to their own or to government uses. The people were no longer
molested
or made afraid. I received the most marked courtesy from the
citizens of Mexico as long as I remained there.
Up
to this time my regiment had not been carried in the school of the
soldier beyond the company drill, except that it had
received some
training on the march from Springfield to the Illinois River. There was
now a good opportunity of
exercising it in the battalion drill. While I
was at West Point the tactics used in the army had been Scott's and
the
musket the flint lock. I had never looked at a copy of tactics from the
time of my graduation. My standing
in that branch of studies had been
near the foot of the class. In the Mexican war in the summer of 1846, I
had
been appointed regimental quartermaster and commissary and had not
been at a battalion drill since. The arms had
been changed since then
and Hardee's tactics had been adopted. I got a copy of tactics and
studied one lesson,
intending to confine the exercise of the first day
to the commands I had thus learned. By pursuing this course from
day to
day I thought I would soon get through the volume.
We were encamped just outside of town on the common, among
scattering
suburban houses with enclosed gardens, and when I got my regiment in
line and rode to the front I soon saw
that if I attempted to follow the
lesson I had studied I would have to clear away some of the houses and
garden fences
to make room. I perceived at once, however, that Hardee's
tactics--a mere translation from the French with Hardee's
name attached
--was nothing more than common sense and the progress of the age applied
to Scott's system. The
commands were abbreviated and the movement
expedited. Under the old tactics almost every change in the order of
march
was preceded by a "halt," then came the change, and then the
"forward march." With the new tactics all these changes
could be made
while in motion. I found no trouble in giving commands that would take
my regiment where I wanted
it to go and carry it around all obstacles.
I do not believe that the officers of the regiment ever discovered that
I
had never studied the tactics that I used.
CHAPTER XIX.
COMMISSIONED BRIGADIER-GENERAL--COMMAND AT IRONTON,
MO.--JEFFERSON CITY
--CAPE GIRARDEAU--GENERAL PRENTISS--SEIZURE OF PADUCAH--HEADQUARTERS AT
CAIRO.
I had not
been in Mexico many weeks when, reading a St. Louis paper,
I found the President had asked the Illinois delegation in Congress
to
recommend some citizens of the State for the position of
brigadier-general, and that they had unanimously recommended me
as first
on a list of seven. I was very much surprised because, as I have said,
my acquaintance with the Congressmen
was very limited and I did not know
of anything I had done to inspire such confidence. The papers of the
next
day announced that my name, with three others, had been sent to the
Senate, and a few days after our confirmation was announced.
When
appointed brigadier-general I at once thought it proper that one of
my aides should come from the regiment I had been commanding,
and so
selected Lieutenant C. B. Lagow. While living in St. Louis, I had had a
desk in the law office of McClellan,
Moody and Hillyer. Difference in
views between the members of the firm on the questions of the day, and
general
hard times in the border cities, had broken up this firm.
Hillyer was quite a young man, then in his twenties, and very
brilliant.
I asked him to accept a place on my staff. I also wanted to take one
man from my new home, Galena.
The canvass in the Presidential campaign
the fall before had brought out a young lawyer by the name of John A.
Rawlins,
who proved himself one of the ablest speakers in the State. He
was also a candidate for elector on the Douglas ticket.
When Sumter was
fired upon and the integrity of the Union threatened, there was no man
more ready to serve his country
than he. I wrote at once asking him to
accept the position of assistant adjutant-general with the rank of
captain,
on my staff. He was about entering the service as major of a
new regiment then organizing in the north-western part
of the State; but
he threw this up and accepted my offer.
Neither Hillyer nor Lagow proved to have any particular
taste or special
qualifications for the duties of the soldier, and the former resigned
during the Vicksburg campaign;
the latter I relieved after the battle of
Chattanooga. Rawlins remained with me as long as he lived, and rose to
the
rank of brigadier general and chief-of-staff to the General of the
Army--an office created for him--before the war closed.
He was an able
man, possessed of great firmness, and could say "no" so emphatically to
a request which he thought should
not be granted that the person he was
addressing would understand at once that there was no use of pressing
the matter.
General Rawlins was a very useful officer in other ways
than this. I became very much attached to him.
Shortly
after my promotion I was ordered to Ironton, Missouri, to
command a district in that part of the State, and took the 21st
Illinois,
my old regiment, with me. Several other regiments were
ordered to the same destination about the same time.
Ironton is on the
Iron Mountain railroad, about seventy miles south of St. Louis, and
situated among hills rising almost
to the dignity of mountains. When I
reached there, about the 8th of August, Colonel B. Gratz Brown
--afterwards
Governor of Missouri and in 1872 Vice-Presidential candidate
--was in command. Some of his troops were ninety days'
men and their
time had expired some time before. The men had no clothing but what
they had volunteered in, and
much of this was so worn that it would
hardly stay on. General Hardee--the author of the tactics I did not
study--was
at Greenville some twenty-five miles further south, it was
said, with five thousand Confederate troops. Under these
circumstances
Colonel Brown's command was very much demoralized. A squadron of
cavalry could have ridden into
the valley and captured the entire force.
Brown himself was gladder to see me on that occasion than he ever has
been
since. I relieved him and sent all his men home within a day or
two, to be mustered out of service.
Within
ten days after reading Ironton I was prepared to take the
offensive against the enemy at Greenville. I sent a column
east out of
the valley we were in, with orders to swing around to the south and west
and come into the Greenville road
ten miles south of Ironton. Another
column marched on the direct road and went into camp at the point
designated
for the two columns to meet. I was to ride out the next
morning and take personal command of the movement. My experience
against
Harris, in northern Missouri, had inspired me with confidence.
But when the evening train came in, it brought General B.
M. Prentiss
with orders to take command of the district. His orders did not relieve
me, but I knew that by law
I was senior, and at that time even the
President did not have the authority to assign a junior to command a
senior
of the same grade. I therefore gave General Prentiss the
situation of the troops and the general condition of affairs,
and
started for St. Louis the same day. The movement against the rebels at
Greenville went no further.
From
St. Louis I was ordered to Jefferson City, the capital of the
State, to take command. General Sterling Price, of
the Confederate
army, was thought to be threatening the capital, Lexington, Chillicothe
and other comparatively large
towns in the central part of Missouri. I
found a good many troops in Jefferson City, but in the greatest
confusion,
and no one person knew where they all were. Colonel
Mulligan, a gallant man, was in command, but he had not been
educated as
yet to his new profession and did not know how to maintain discipline.
I found that volunteers had obtained
permission from the department
commander, or claimed they had, to raise, some of them, regiments; some
battalions; some
companies--the officers to be commissioned according to
the number of men they brought into the service. There were
recruiting
stations all over town, with notices, rudely lettered on boards over the
doors, announcing the arm of service
and length of time for which
recruits at that station would be received. The law required all
volunteers to serve
for three years or the war. But in Jefferson City
in August, 1861, they were recruited for different periods and
on
different conditions; some were enlisted for six months, some for a
year, some without any condition as to where
they were to serve, others
were not to be sent out of the State. The recruits were principally men
from regiments
stationed there and already in the service, bound for
three years if the war lasted that long.
The city was filled
with Union fugitives who had been driven by guerilla
bands to take refuge with the National troops. They were in
a
deplorable condition and must have starved but for the support the
government gave them. They had generally
made their escape with a team
or two, sometimes a yoke of oxen with a mule or a horse in the lead. A
little bedding
besides their clothing and some food had been thrown into
the wagon. All else of their worldly goods were abandoned
and
appropriated by their former neighbors; for the Union man in Missouri
who staid at home during the rebellion, if
he was not immediately under
the protection of the National troops, was at perpetual war with his
neighbors. I
stopped the recruiting service, and disposed the troops
about the outskirts of the city so as to guard all approaches.
Order
was soon restored.
I had been at Jefferson City but a few days when I was directed from
department headquarters
to fit out an expedition to Lexington,
Booneville and Chillicothe, in order to take from the banks in those
cities all
the funds they had and send them to St. Louis. The western
army had not yet been supplied with transportation.
It became necessary
therefore to press into the service teams belonging to sympathizers with
the rebellion or to hire
those of Union men. This afforded an
opportunity of giving employment to such of the refugees within our
lines
as had teams suitable for our purposes. They accepted the service
with alacrity. As fast as troops could be
got off they were moved west
some twenty miles or more. In seven or eight days from my assuming
command at Jefferson
City, I had all the troops, except a small
garrison, at an advanced position and expected to join them myself the
next
day.
But my campaigns had not yet begun, for while seated at my office door,
with nothing further to do until it
was time to start for the front, I
saw an officer of rank approaching, who proved to be Colonel Jefferson
C. Davis.
I had never met him before, but he introduced himself by
handing me an order for him to proceed to Jefferson City and relieve
me
of the command. The orders directed that I should report at department
headquarters at St. Louis without delay,
to receive important special
instructions. It was about an hour before the only regular train of the
day would
start. I therefore turned over to Colonel Davis my orders,
and hurriedly stated to him the progress that had been
made to carry out
the department instructions already described. I had at that time but
one staff officer, doing
myself all the detail work usually performed by
an adjutant-general. In an hour after being relieved from the command
I
was on my way to St. Louis, leaving my single staff officer(*6) to
follow the next day with our horses and baggage.
The
"important special instructions" which I received the next day,
assigned me to the command of the district of south-east
Missouri,
embracing all the territory south of St. Louis, in Missouri, as well as
all southern Illinois. At first
I was to take personal command of a
combined expedition that had been ordered for the capture of Colonel
Jeff. Thompson,
a sort of independent or partisan commander who was
disputing with us the possession of south-east Missouri. Troops
had
been ordered to move from Ironton to Cape Girardeau, sixty or seventy
miles to the south-east, on the Mississippi
River; while the forces at
Cape Girardeau had been ordered to move to Jacksonville, ten miles out
towards Ironton; and
troops at Cairo and Bird's Point, at the junction
of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, were to hold themselves in readiness
to
go down the Mississippi to Belmont, eighteen miles below, to be moved
west from there when an officer should come to command
them. I was the
officer who had been selected for this purpose. Cairo was to become my
headquarters when
the expedition terminated.
In pursuance of my orders I established my temporary headquarters at
Cape Girardeau and
sent instructions to the commanding officer at
Jackson, to inform me of the approach of General Prentiss from Ironton.
Hired
wagons were kept moving night and day to take additional rations
to Jackson, to supply the troops when they started from
there. Neither
General Prentiss nor Colonel Marsh, who commanded at Jackson, knew their
destination. I drew
up all the instructions for the contemplated move,
and kept them in my pocket until I should hear of the junction of our
troops
at Jackson. Two or three days after my arrival at Cape
Girardeau, word came that General Prentiss was approaching
that place
(Jackson). I started at once to meet him there and to give him his
orders. As I turned the first
corner of a street after starting, I saw
a column of cavalry passing the next street in front of me. I turned
and
rode around the block the other way, so as to meet the head of the
column. I found there General Prentiss himself,
with a large escort.
He had halted his troops at Jackson for the night, and had come on
himself to Cape Girardeau, leaving
orders for his command to follow him
in the morning. I gave the General his orders--which stopped him at
Jackson--but
he was very much aggrieved at being placed under another
brigadier-general, particularly as he believed himself to be the
senior.
He had been a brigadier, in command at Cairo, while I was mustering
officer at Springfield without any rank.
But we were nominated at the
same time for the United States service, and both our commissions bore
date May 17th, 1861.
By virtue of my former army rank I was, by law,
the senior. General Prentiss failed to get orders to his troops to
remain
at Jackson, and the next morning early they were reported as
approaching Cape Girardeau. I then ordered the General
very
peremptorily to countermarch his command and take it back to Jackson.
He obeyed the order, but bade his command
adieu when he got them to
Jackson, and went to St. Louis and reported himself. This broke up the
expedition.
But little harm was done, as Jeff. Thompson moved light and
had no fixed place for even nominal headquarters. He
was as much at
home in Arkansas as he was in Missouri and would keep out of the way of
a superior force. Prentiss
was sent to another part of the State.
General Prentiss made a great mistake on the above occasion, one that he
would
not have committed later in the war. When I came to know him
better, I regretted it much. In consequence of
this occurrence he was
off duty in the field when the principal campaign at the West was going
on, and his juniors received
promotion while he was where none could be
obtained. He would have been next to myself in rank in the district of
south-east
Missouri, by virtue of his services in the Mexican war. He
was a brave and very earnest soldier. No man in
the service was more
sincere in his devotion to the cause for which we were battling; none
more ready to make sacrifices
or risk life in it.
On the 4th of September I removed my headquarters to Cairo and found
Colonel Richard Oglesby
in command of the post. We had never met, at
least not to my knowledge. After my promotion I had ordered my
brigadier-general's
uniform from New York, but it had not yet arrived,
so that I was in citizen's dress. The Colonel had his office full
of
people, mostly from the neighboring States of Missouri and Kentucky,
making complaints or asking favors. He
evidently did not catch my name
when I was presented, for on my taking a piece of paper from the table
where he was
seated and writing the order assuming command of the
district of south-east Missouri, Colonel Richard J. Oglesby to command
the
post at Bird's Point, and handing it to him, he put on an expression
of surprise that looked a little as if he would like
to have some one
identify me. But he surrendered the office without question.
The day after I assumed command
at Cairo a man came to me who said he
was a scout of General Fremont. He reported that he had just come from
Columbus,
a point on the Mississippi twenty miles below on the Kentucky
side, and that troops had started from there, or were about
to start, to
seize Paducah, at the mouth of the Tennessee. There was no time for
delay; I reported by telegraph
to the department commander the
information I had received, and added that I was taking steps to get off
that night
to be in advance of the enemy in securing that important
point. There was a large number of steamers lying at Cairo
and a good
many boatmen were staying in the town. It was the work of only a few
hours to get the boats manned,
with coal aboard and steam up. Troops
were also designated to go aboard. The distance from Cairo to Paducah
is
about forty-five miles. I did not wish to get there before daylight
of the 6th, and directed therefore that the boats
should lie at anchor
out in the stream until the time to start. Not having received an
answer to my first dispatch,
I again telegraphed to department
headquarters that I should start for Paducah that night unless I
received further
orders. Hearing nothing, we started before midnight
and arrived early the following morning, anticipating the enemy
by
probably not over six or eight hours. It proved very fortunate that the
expedition against Jeff. Thompson had
been broken up. Had it not been,
the enemy would have seized Paducah and fortified it, to our very great
annoyance.
When
the National troops entered the town the citizens were taken by
surprise. I never after saw such consternation depicted
on the faces of
the people. Men, women and children came out of their doors looking
pale and frightened at the
presence of the invader. They were expecting
rebel troops that day. In fact, nearly four thousand men from
Columbus
were at that time within ten or fifteen miles of Paducah on their way to
occupy the place. I had but
two regiments and one battery with me, but
the enemy did not know this and returned to Columbus. I stationed my
troops
at the best points to guard the roads leading into the city, left
gunboats to guard the river fronts and by noon was ready
to start on my
return to Cairo. Before leaving, however, I addressed a short printed
proclamation to the citizens
of Paducah assuring them of our peaceful
intentions, that we had come among them to protect them against the
enemies
of our country, and that all who chose could continue their
usual avocations with assurance of the protection of the government.
This
was evidently a relief to them; but the majority would have much
preferred the presence of the other army. I reinforced
Paducah rapidly
from the troops at Cape Girardeau; and a day or two later General C. F.
Smith, a most accomplished soldier,
reported at Cairo and was assigned
to the command of the post at the mouth of the Tennessee. In a short
time it
was well fortified and a detachment was sent to occupy
Smithland, at the mouth of the Cumberland.
The State government
of Kentucky at that time was rebel in sentiment,
but wanted to preserve an armed neutrality between the North and the
South,
and the governor really seemed to think the State had a perfect
right to maintain a neutral position. The rebels already
occupied two
towns in the State, Columbus and Hickman, on the Mississippi; and at the
very moment the National troops
were entering Paducah from the Ohio
front, General Lloyd Tilghman--a Confederate--with his staff and a small
detachment
of men, were getting out in the other direction, while, as I
have already said, nearly four thousand Confederate troops
were on
Kentucky soil on their way to take possession of the town. But, in the
estimation of the governor and of those
who thought with him, this did
not justify the National authorities in invading the soil of Kentucky.
I informed the
legislature of the State of what I was doing, and my
action was approved by the majority of that body. On my return
to Cairo
I found authority from department headquarters for me to take Paducah
"if I felt strong enough," but very soon
after I was reprimanded from
the same quarters for my correspondence with the legislature and warned
against a repetition
of the offence.
Soon after I took command at Cairo, General Fremont entered into
arrangements for the exchange of
the prisoners captured at Camp Jackson
in the month of May. I received orders to pass them through my lines to
Columbus
as they presented themselves with proper credentials. Quite a
number of these prisoners I had been personally acquainted
with before
the war. Such of them as I had so known were received at my
headquarters as old acquaintances, and
ordinary routine business was not
disturbed by their presence. On one occasion when several were present
in my
office my intention to visit Cape Girardeau the next day, to
inspect the troops at that point, was mentioned. Something
transpired
which postponed my trip; but a steamer employed by the government was
passing a point some twenty or more
miles above Cairo, the next day,
when a section of rebel artillery with proper escort brought her to. A
major,
one of those who had been at my headquarters the day before, came
at once aboard and after some search made a direct demand
for my
delivery. It was hard to persuade him that I was not there. This
officer was Major Barrett, of St.
Louis. I had been acquainted with his
family before the war.
CHAPTER XX.
GENERAL FREMONT IN
COMMAND--MOVEMENT AGAINST BELMONT--BATTLE OF BELMONT
--A NARROW ESCAPE--AFTER THE BATTLE.
From the occupation of
Paducah up to the early part of November nothing
important occurred with the troops under my command. I was reinforced
from
time to time and the men were drilled and disciplined preparatory
for the service which was sure to come. By the
1st of November I had
not fewer than 20,000 men, most of them under good drill and ready to
meet any equal body of men
who, like themselves, had not yet been in an
engagement. They were growing impatient at lying idle so long, almost
in
hearing of the guns of the enemy they had volunteered to fight
against. I asked on one or two occasions to be allowed
to move against
Columbus. It could have been taken soon after the occupation of
Paducah; but before November it
was so strongly fortified that it would
have required a large force and a long siege to capture it.
In the latter
part of October General Fremont took the field in person
and moved from Jefferson City against General Sterling Price,
who was
then in the State of Missouri with a considerable command. About the
first of November I was directed
from department headquarters to make a
demonstration on both sides of the Mississippi River with the view of
detaining
the rebels at Columbus within their lines. Before my troops
could be got off, I was notified from the same quarter
that there were
some 3,000 of the enemy on the St. Francis River about fifty miles west,
or south-west, from Cairo,
and was ordered to send another force against
them. I dispatched Colonel Oglesby at once with troops sufficient to
compete
with the reported number of the enemy. On the 5th word came
from the same source that the rebels were about to detach
a large force
from Columbus to be moved by boats down the Mississippi and up the White
River, in Arkansas, in order
to reinforce Price, and I was directed to
prevent this movement if possible. I accordingly sent a regiment from
Bird's
Point under Colonel W. H. L. Wallace to overtake and reinforce
Oglesby, with orders to march to New Madrid, a point some
distance below
Columbus, on the Missouri side. At the same time I directed General C.
F. Smith to move all the
troops he could spare from Paducah directly
against Columbus, halting them, however, a few miles from the town to
await
further orders from me. Then I gathered up all the troops at
Cairo and Fort Holt, except suitable guards, and moved
them down the
river on steamers convoyed by two gunboats, accompanying them myself.
My force consisted of a little over
3,000 men and embraced five
regiments of infantry, two guns and two companies of cavalry. We
dropped down the
river on the 6th to within about six miles of Columbus,
debarked a few men on the Kentucky side and established pickets
to
connect with the troops from Paducah.
I had no orders which contemplated an attack by the National troops, nor
did
I intend anything of the kind when I started out from Cairo; but
after we started I saw that the officers and men were
elated at the
prospect of at last having the opportunity of doing what they had
volunteered to do--fight the enemies
of their country. I did not see
how I could maintain discipline, or retain the confidence of my command,
if we
should return to Cairo without an effort to do something.
Columbus, besides being strongly fortified, contained a garrison
much
more numerous than the force I had with me. It would not do, therefore,
to attack that point. About
two o'clock on the morning of the 7th, I
learned that the enemy was crossing troops from Columbus to the west
bank to
be dispatched, presumably, after Oglesby. I knew there was a
small camp of Confederates at Belmont, immediately opposite
Columbus,
and I speedily resolved to push down the river, land on the Missouri
side, capture Belmont, break up the camp
and return. Accordingly, the
pickets above Columbus were drawn in at once, and about daylight the
boats moved
out from shore. In an hour we were debarking on the west
bank of the Mississippi, just out of range of the batteries
at Columbus.
The ground on the west shore of the river, opposite Columbus, is low and
in places marshy and cut up
with sloughs. The soil is rich and the
timber large and heavy. There were some small clearings between Belmont
and
the point where we landed, but most of the country was covered with
the native forests. We landed in front of a cornfield.
When the
debarkation commenced, I took a regiment down the river to post it as a
guard against surprise. At that
time I had no staff officer who could
be trusted with that duty. In the woods, at a short distance below the
clearing,
I found a depression, dry at the time, but which at high water
became a slough or bayou. I placed the men in the
hollow, gave them
their instructions and ordered them to remain there until they were
properly relieved. These
troops, with the gunboats, were to protect our
transports.
Up to this time the enemy had evidently failed to divine
our intentions.
From Columbus they could, of course, see our gunboats and transports
loaded with troops. But the
force from Paducah was threatening them
from the land side, and it was hardly to be expected that if Columbus
was our
object we would separate our troops by a wide river. They
doubtless thought we meant to draw a large force from the
east bank,
then embark ourselves, land on the east bank and make a sudden assault
on Columbus before their divided command
could be united.
About eight o'clock we started from the point of debarkation, marching
by the flank. After
moving in this way for a mile or a mile and a half,
I halted where there was marshy ground covered with a heavy growth
of
timber in our front, and deployed a large part of my force as
skirmishers. By this time the enemy discovered
that we were moving upon
Belmont and sent out troops to meet us. Soon after we had started in
line, his skirmishers
were encountered and fighting commenced. This
continued, growing fiercer and fiercer, for about four hours, the enemy
being
forced back gradually until he was driven into his camp. Early in
this engagement my horse was shot under me, but I got
another from one
of my staff and kept well up with the advance until the river was
reached.
The officers and
men engaged at Belmont were then under fire for the
first time. Veterans could not have behaved better than they
did up to
the moment of reaching the rebel camp. At this point they became
demoralized from their victory and
failed to reap its full reward. The
enemy had been followed so closely that when he reached the clear ground
on
which his camp was pitched he beat a hasty retreat over the river
bank, which protected him from our shots and from view.
This
precipitate retreat at the last moment enabled the National forces to
pick their way without hinderance through
the abatis--the only
artificial defence the enemy had. The moment the camp was reached our
men laid down their
arms and commenced rummaging the tents to pick up
trophies. Some of the higher officers were little better than the
privates.
They galloped about from one cluster of men to another and at
every halt delivered a short eulogy upon the Union cause
and the
achievements of the command.
All this time the troops we had been engaged with for four hours, lay
crouched
under cover of the river bank, ready to come up and surrender
if summoned to do so; but finding that they were not pursued,
they
worked their way up the river and came up on the bank between us and our
transports. I saw at the same time
two steamers coming from the
Columbus side towards the west shore, above us, black--or gray--with
soldiers from boiler-deck
to roof. Some of my men were engaged in
firing from captured guns at empty steamers down the river, out of
range,
cheering at every shot. I tried to get them to turn their guns
upon the loaded steamers above and not so far away.
My efforts were in
vain. At last I directed my staff officers to set fire to the camps.
This drew the fire of
the enemy's guns located on the heights of
Columbus. They had abstained from firing before, probably because they
were
afraid of hitting their own men; or they may have supposed, until
the camp was on fire, that it was still in the possession
of their
friends. About this time, too, the men we had driven over the bank were
seen in line up the river between
us and our transports. The alarm
"surrounded" was given. The guns of the enemy and the report of being
surrounded,
brought officers and men completely under control. At first
some of the officers seemed to think that to be surrounded
was to be
placed in a hopeless position, where there was nothing to do but
surrender. But when I announced that
we had cut our way in and could
cut our way out just as well, it seemed a new revelation to officers and
soldiers.
They formed line rapidly and we started back to our boats,
with the men deployed as skirmishers as they had been on entering
camp.
The enemy was soon encountered, but his resistance this time was feeble.
Again the Confederates sought shelter
under the river banks. We could
not stop, however, to pick them up, because the troops we had seen
crossing the
river had debarked by this time and were nearer our
transports than we were. It would be prudent to get them behind
us; but
we were not again molested on our way to the boats.
From the beginning of the fighting our wounded had been
carried to the
houses at the rear, near the place of debarkation. I now set the troops
to bringing their wounded
to the boats. After this had gone on for some
little time I rode down the road, without even a staff officer, to
visit
the guard I had stationed over the approach to our transports. I knew
the enemy had crossed over from Columbus
in considerable numbers and
might be expected to attack us as we were embarking. This guard would
be encountered
first and, as they were in a natural intrenchment, would
be able to hold the enemy for a considerable time. My surprise
was
great to find there was not a single man in the trench. Riding back to
the boat I found the officer who had
commanded the guard and learned
that he had withdrawn his force when the main body fell back. At first
I ordered
the guard to return, but finding that it would take some time
to get the men together and march them back to their position,
I
countermanded the order. Then fearing that the enemy we had seen
crossing the river below might be coming upon
us unawares, I rode out in
the field to our front, still entirely alone, to observe whether the
enemy was passing.
The field was grown up with corn so tall and thick
as to cut off the view of even a person on horseback, except directly
along
the rows. Even in that direction, owing to the overhanging blades
of corn, the view was not extensive. I had not
gone more than a few
hundred yards when I saw a body of troops marching past me not fifty
yards away. I looked
at them for a moment and then turned my horse
towards the river and started back, first in a walk, and when I thought
myself
concealed from the view of the enemy, as fast as my horse could
carry me. When at the river bank I still had to ride
a few hundred
yards to the point where the nearest transport lay.
The cornfield in front of our transports terminated
at the edge of a
dense forest. Before I got back the enemy had entered this forest and
had opened a brisk fire
upon the boats. Our men, with the exception of
details that had gone to the front after the wounded, were now either
aboard
the transports or very near them. Those who were not aboard soon
got there, and the boats pushed off. I was
the only man of the National
army between the rebels and our transports. The captain of a boat that
had just pushed
out but had not started, recognized me and ordered the
engineer not to start the engine; he then had a plank run out for
me.
My horse seemed to take in the situation. There was no path down the
bank and every one acquainted with the
Mississippi River knows that its
banks, in a natural state, do not vary at any great angle from the
perpendicular.
My horse put his fore feet over the bank without
hesitation or urging, and with his hind feet well under him, slid down
the
bank and trotted aboard the boat, twelve or fifteen feet away, over
a single gang plank. I dismounted and went at
once to the upper deck.
The Mississippi River was low on the 7th of November, 1861, so that the
banks were higher
than the heads of men standing on the upper decks of
the steamers. The rebels were some distance back from the river,
so
that their fire was high and did us but little harm. Our smoke-stack
was riddled with bullets, but there were
only three men wounded on the
boats, two of whom were soldiers. When I first went on deck I entered
the captain's
room adjoining the pilot-house, and threw myself on a
sofa. I did not keep that position a moment, but rose to go
out on the
deck to observe what was going on. I had scarcely left when a musket
ball entered the room, struck
the head of the sofa, passed through it
and lodged in the foot.
When the enemy opened fire on the transports our
gunboats returned it
with vigor. They were well out in the stream and some distance down, so
that they had to
give but very little elevation to their guns to clear
the banks of the river. Their position very nearly enfiladed
the line
of the enemy while he was marching through the cornfield. The execution
was very great, as we could see
at the time and as I afterwards learned
more positively. We were very soon out of range and went peacefully on
our
way to Cairo, every man feeling that Belmont was a great victory and
that he had contributed his share to it.
Our
loss at Belmont was 485 in killed, wounded and missing. About 125 of
our wounded fell into the hands of the enemy.
We returned with 175
prisoners and two guns, and spiked four other pieces. The loss of the
enemy, as officially
reported, was 642 men, killed, wounded and missing.
We had engaged about 2,500 men, exclusive of the guard left with the
transports.
The enemy had about 7,000; but this includes the troops
brought over from Columbus who were not engaged in the first defence
of
Belmont.
The two objects for which the battle of Belmont was fought were fully
accomplished. The enemy
gave up all idea of detaching troops from
Columbus. His losses were very heavy for that period of the war.
Columbus
was beset by people looking for their wounded or dead kin, to
take them home for medical treatment or burial. I learned
later, when I
had moved further south, that Belmont had caused more mourning than
almost any other battle up to that
time. The National troops acquired a
confidence in themselves at Belmont that did not desert them through the
war.
The
day after the battle I met some officers from General Polk's
command, arranged for permission to bury our dead at Belmont
and also
commenced negotiations for the exchange of prisoners. When our men went
to bury their dead, before they
were allowed to land they were conducted
below the point where the enemy had engaged our transports. Some of the
officers
expressed a desire to see the field; but the request was
refused with the statement that we had no dead there.
While
on the truce-boat I mentioned to an officer, whom I had known both
at West Point and in the Mexican war, that I was in
the cornfield near
their troops when they passed; that I had been on horseback and had worn
a soldier's overcoat at
the time. This officer was on General Polk's
staff. He said both he and the general had seen me and that Polk
had
said to his men, "There is a Yankee; you may try your marksmanship on
him if you wish," but nobody fired at me.
Belmont
was severely criticised in the North as a wholly unnecessary
battle, barren of results, or the possibility of them from
the
beginning. If it had not been fought, Colonel Oglesby would probably
have been captured or destroyed with
his three thousand men. Then I
should have been culpable indeed.
CHAPTER XXI.
GENERAL HALLECK
IN COMMAND--COMMANDING THE DISTRICT OF CAIRO--MOVEMENT
ON FORT HENRY--CAPTURE OF FORT HENRY.
While at Cairo I had
frequent opportunities of meeting the rebel
officers of the Columbus garrison. They seemed to be very fond of
coming
up on steamers under flags of truce. On two or three occasions I
went down in like manner. When one of their
boats was seen coming up
carrying a white flag, a gun would be fired from the lower battery at
Fort Holt, throwing a
shot across the bow as a signal to come no
farther. I would then take a steamer and, with my staff and
occasionally
a few other officers, go down to receive the party. There
were several officers among them whom I had known before,
both at West
Point and in Mexico. Seeing these officers who had been educated for the
profession of arms, both at school
and in actual war, which is a far
more efficient training, impressed me with the great advantage the South
possessed
over the North at the beginning of the rebellion. They had
from thirty to forty per cent. of the educated soldiers
of the Nation.
They had no standing army and, consequently, these trained soldiers had
to find employment with the troops
from their own States. In this way
what there was of military education and training was distributed
throughout
their whole army. The whole loaf was leavened.
The North had a great number of educated and trained soldiers,
but the
bulk of them were still in the army and were retained, generally with
their old commands and rank, until the
war had lasted many months. In
the Army of the Potomac there was what was known as the "regular
brigade," in which,
from the commanding officer down to the youngest
second lieutenant, every one was educated to his profession. So,
too,
with many of the batteries; all the officers, generally four in number
to each, were men educated for their profession.
Some of these went
into battle at the beginning under division commanders who were entirely
without military training.
This state of affairs gave me an idea which
I expressed while at Cairo; that the government ought to disband the
regular
army, with the exception of the staff corps, and notify the
disbanded officers that they would receive no compensation
while the war
lasted except as volunteers. The register should be kept up, but the
names of all officers who were
not in the volunteer service at the
close, should be stricken from it.
On the 9th of November, two days after the
battle of Belmont,
Major-General H. W. Halleck superseded General Fremont in command of the
Department of the Missouri.
The limits of his command took in Arkansas
and west Kentucky east to the Cumberland River. From the battle of
Belmont
until early in February, 1862, the troops under my command did
little except prepare for the long struggle which proved
to be before
them.
The enemy at this time occupied a line running from the Mississippi
River at Columbus to Bowling
Green and Mill Springs, Kentucky. Each of
these positions was strongly fortified, as were also points on the
Tennessee
and Cumberland rivers near the Tennessee state line. The
works on the Tennessee were called Fort Heiman and Fort
Henry, and that
on the Cumberland was Fort Donelson. At these points the two rivers
approached within eleven miles
of each other. The lines of rifle pits
at each place extended back from the water at least two miles, so that
the
garrisons were in reality only seven miles apart. These positions
were of immense importance to the enemy; and of
course correspondingly
important for us to possess ourselves of. With Fort Henry in our hands
we had a navigable
stream open to us up to Muscle Shoals, in Alabama.
The Memphis and Charleston Railroad strikes the Tennessee at Eastport,
Mississippi,
and follows close to the banks of the river up to the
shoals. This road, of vast importance to the enemy, would cease
to be
of use to them for through traffic the moment Fort Henry became ours.
Fort Donelson was the gate to Nashville--a
place of great military and
political importance--and to a rich country extending far east in
Kentucky. These
two points in our possession the enemy would
necessarily be thrown back to the Memphis and Charleston road, or to the
boundary
of the cotton states, and, as before stated, that road would be
lost to them for through communication.
The designation
of my command had been changed after Halleck's arrival,
from the District of South-east Missouri to the District of Cairo,
and
the small district commanded by General C. F. Smith, embracing the
mouths of the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers,
had been added to my
jurisdiction. Early in January, 1862, I was directed by General
McClellan, through my department
commander, to make a reconnoissance in
favor of Brigadier-General Don Carlos Buell, who commanded the
Department of
the Ohio, with headquarters at Louisville, and who was
confronting General S. B. Buckner with a larger Confederate force
at
Bowling Green. It was supposed that Buell was about to make some move
against the enemy, and my demonstration
was intended to prevent the
sending of troops from Columbus, Fort Henry or Donelson to Buckner. I
at once ordered
General Smith to send a force up the west bank of the
Tennessee to threaten forts Heiman and Henry; McClernand at the same
time
with a force of 6,000 men was sent out into west Kentucky,
threatening Columbus with one column and the Tennessee River
with
another. I went with McClernand's command. The weather was very bad;
snow and rain fell; the roads, never
good in that section, were
intolerable. We were out more than a week splashing through the mud,
snow and rain,
the men suffering very much. The object of the
expedition was accomplished. The enemy did not send reinforcements
to
Bowling Green, and General George H. Thomas fought and won the battle of
Mill Springs before we returned.
As
a result of this expedition General Smith reported that he thought it
practicable to capture Fort Heiman. This fort
stood on high ground,
completely commanding Fort Henry on the opposite side of the river, and
its possession by us,
with the aid of our gunboats, would insure the
capture of Fort Henry. This report of Smith's confirmed views I had
previously
held, that the true line of operations for us was up the
Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. With us there, the enemy
would be
compelled to fall back on the east and west entirely out of the State of
Kentucky. On the 6th of January,
before receiving orders for this
expedition, I had asked permission of the general commanding the
department to go to
see him at St. Louis. My object was to lay this
plan of campaign before him. Now that my views had been confirmed
by so
able a general as Smith, I renewed my request to go to St. Louis on what
I deemed important military business.
The leave was granted, but not
graciously. I had known General Halleck but very slightly in the old
army, not
having met him either at West Point or during the Mexican war.
I was received with so little cordiality that I perhaps
stated the
object of my visit with less clearness than I might have done, and I had
not uttered many sentences before
I was cut short as if my plan was
preposterous. I returned to Cairo very much crestfallen.
Flag-officer Foote
commanded the little fleet of gunboats then in the
neighborhood of Cairo and, though in another branch of the service,
was
subject to the command of General Halleck. He and I consulted freely
upon military matters and he agreed with
me perfectly as to the
feasibility of the campaign up the Tennessee. Notwithstanding the
rebuff I had received
from my immediate chief, I therefore, on the 28th
of January, renewed the suggestion by telegraph that "if permitted, I
could
take and hold Fort Henry on the Tennessee." This time I was
backed by Flag-officer Foote, who sent a similar dispatch.
On the 29th
I wrote fully in support of the proposition. On the 1st of February I
received full instructions from
department headquarters to move upon
Fort Henry. On the 2d the expedition started.
In February, 1862, there
were quite a good many steamers laid up at
Cairo for want of employment, the Mississippi River being closed against
navigation
below that point. There were also many men in the town whose
occupation had been following the river in various capacities,
from
captain down to deck hand But there were not enough of either boats or
men to move at one time the 17,000 men I
proposed to take with me up the
Tennessee. I loaded the boats with more than half the force, however,
and sent
General McClernand in command. I followed with one of the
later boats and found McClernand had stopped, very properly,
nine miles
below Fort Henry. Seven gunboats under Flag-officer Foote had
accompanied the advance. The transports
we had with us had to return to
Paducah to bring up a division from there, with General C. F. Smith in
command.
Before
sending the boats back I wanted to get the troops as near to the
enemy as I could without coming within range of their
guns. There was a
stream emptying into the Tennessee on the east side, apparently at about
long range distance
below the fort. On account of the narrow water-shed
separating the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers at that point,
the stream
must be insignificant at ordinary stages, but when we were there, in
February, it was a torrent. It
would facilitate the investment of Fort
Henry materially if the troops could be landed south of that stream. To
test
whether this could be done I boarded the gunboat Essex and
requested Captain Wm. Porter commanding it, to approach the
fort to draw
its fire. After we had gone some distance past the mouth of the stream
we drew the fire of the fort,
which fell much short of us. In
consequence I had made up my mind to return and bring the troops to the
upper
side of the creek, when the enemy opened upon us with a rifled gun
that sent shot far beyond us and beyond the stream.
One shot passed
very near where Captain Porter and I were standing, struck the deck near
the stern, penetrated and passed
through the cabin and so out into the
river. We immediately turned back, and the troops were debarked below
the
mouth of the creek.
When the landing was completed I returned with the transports to Paducah
to hasten up the balance
of the troops. I got back on the 5th with the
advance the remainder following as rapidly as the steamers could carry
them.
At ten o'clock at night, on the 5th, the whole command was not
yet up. Being anxious to commence operations as soon
as possible before
the enemy could reinforce heavily, I issued my orders for an advance at
11 A.M. on the 6th.
I felt sure that all the troops would be up by that
time.
Fort Henry occupies a bend in the river which gave the
guns in the water
battery a direct fire down the stream. The camp outside the fort was
intrenched, with rifle
pits and outworks two miles back on the road to
Donelson and Dover. The garrison of the fort and camp was about 2,800,
with
strong reinforcements from Donelson halted some miles out. There
were seventeen heavy guns in the fort. The
river was very high, the
banks being overflowed except where the bluffs come to the water's edge.
A portion of the ground
on which Fort Henry stood was two feet deep in
water. Below, the water extended into the woods several hundred yards
back
from the bank on the east side. On the west bank Fort Heiman stood
on high ground, completely commanding Fort Henry.
The distance from
Fort Henry to Donelson is but eleven miles. The two positions were so
important to the enemy,
AS HE SAW HIS INTEREST, that it was natural to
suppose that reinforcements would come from every quarter from which
they
could be got. Prompt action on our part was imperative.
The plan was for the troops and gunboats to start at
the same moment.
The troops were to invest the garrison and the gunboats to attack the
fort at close quarters.
General Smith was to land a brigade of his
division on the west bank during the night of the 5th and get it in rear
of
Heiman.
At the hour designated the troops and gunboats started. General Smith
found Fort Heiman had been evacuated
before his men arrived. The
gunboats soon engaged the water batteries at very close quarters, but
the troops which
were to invest Fort Henry were delayed for want of
roads, as well as by the dense forest and the high water in what would
in
dry weather have been unimportant beds of streams. This delay made
no difference in the result. On our first
appearance Tilghman had sent
his entire command, with the exception of about one hundred men left to
man the guns in
the fort, to the outworks on the road to Dover and
Donelson, so as to have them out of range of the guns of our navy; and
before
any attack on the 6th he had ordered them to retreat on Donelson.
He stated in his subsequent report that the defence was
intended solely
to give his troops time to make their escape.
Tilghman was captured with his staff and ninety men,
as well as the
armament of the fort, the ammunition and whatever stores were there.
Our cavalry pursued the retreating
column towards Donelson and picked up
two guns and a few stragglers; but the enemy had so much the start, that
the pursuing
force did not get in sight of any except the stragglers.
All the gunboats engaged were hit many times. The damage,
however,
beyond what could be repaired by a small expenditure of money, was
slight, except to the Essex. A shell
penetrated the boiler of that
vessel and exploded it, killing and wounding forty-eight men, nineteen
of whom were soldiers
who had been detailed to act with the navy. On
several occasions during the war such details were made when the
complement
of men with the navy was insufficient for the duty before
them. After the fall of Fort Henry Captain Phelps, commanding
the
iron-clad Carondelet, at my request ascended the Tennessee River and
thoroughly destroyed the bridge of the Memphis
and Ohio Railroad.
CHAPTER XXII.
INVESTMENT OF FORT DONELSON--THE NAVAL OPERATIONS--ATTACK OF THE ENEMY
--ASSAULTING
THE WORKS--SURRENDER OF THE FORT.
I informed the department commander of our success at Fort Henry and
that on the
8th I would take Fort Donelson. But the rain continued to
fall so heavily that the roads became impassable for artillery
and wagon
trains. Then, too, it would not have been prudent to proceed without
the gunboats. At least it
would have been leaving behind a valuable
part of our available force.
On the 7th, the day after the fall of Fort
Henry, I took my staff and
the cavalry--a part of one regiment--and made a reconnoissance to within
about a mile of
the outer line of works at Donelson. I had known
General Pillow in Mexico, and judged that with any force, no matter
how
small, I could march up to within gunshot of any intrenchments he was
given to hold. I said this to the officers
of my staff at the time. I
knew that Floyd was in command, but he was no soldier, and I judged that
he would yield
to Pillow's pretensions. I met, as I expected, no
opposition in making the reconnoissance and, besides learning the
topography
of the country on the way and around Fort Donelson, found
that there were two roads available for marching; one leading
to the
village of Dover, the other to Donelson.
Fort Donelson is two miles north, or down the river, from Dover.
The
fort, as it stood in 1861, embraced about one hundred acres of land. On
the east it fronted the Cumberland;
to the north it faced Hickman's
creek, a small stream which at that time was deep and wide because of
the back-water
from the river; on the south was another small stream, or
rather a ravine, opening into the Cumberland. This also
was filled with
back-water from the river. The fort stood on high ground, some of it as
much as a hundred feet
above the Cumberland. Strong protection to the
heavy guns in the water batteries had been obtained by cutting away
places
for them in the bluff. To the west there was a line of rifle
pits some two miles back from the river at the farthest
point. This
line ran generally along the crest of high ground, but in one place
crossed a ravine which opens into
the river between the village and the
fort. The ground inside and outside of this intrenched line was very
broken
and generally wooded. The trees outside of the rifle-pits had
been cut down for a considerable way out, and had been
felled so that
their tops lay outwards from the intrenchments. The limbs had been
trimmed and pointed, and thus
formed an abatis in front of the greater
part of the line. Outside of this intrenched line, and extending about
half
the entire length of it, is a ravine running north and south and
opening into Hickman creek at a point north of the fort.
The entire
side of this ravine next to the works was one long abatis.
General Halleck commenced his efforts in all
quarters to get
reinforcements to forward to me immediately on my departure from Cairo.
General Hunter sent men freely
from Kansas, and a large division under
General Nelson, from Buell's army, was also dispatched. Orders went out
from
the War Department to consolidate fragments of companies that were
being recruited in the Western States so as to make
full companies, and
to consolidate companies into regiments. General Halleck did not
approve or disapprove of
my going to Fort Donelson. He said nothing
whatever to me on the subject. He informed Buell on the 7th that
I
would march against Fort Donelson the next day; but on the 10th he
directed me to fortify Fort Henry strongly, particularly
to the land
side, saying that he forwarded me intrenching tools for that purpose. I
received this dispatch in
front of Fort Donelson.
I was very impatient to get to Fort Donelson because I knew the
importance of the place
to the enemy and supposed he would reinforce it
rapidly. I felt that 15,000 men on the 8th would be more effective
than
50,000 a month later. I asked Flag-officer Foote, therefore, to order
his gunboats still about Cairo to proceed
up the Cumberland River and
not to wait for those gone to Eastport and Florence; but the others got
back in time
and we started on the 12th. I had moved McClernand out a
few miles the night before so as to leave the road as free
as possible.
Just as we were about to start the first reinforcement reached me on
transports. It was a brigade
composed of six full regiments commanded
by Colonel Thayer, of Nebraska. As the gunboats were going around to
Donelson
by the Tennessee, Ohio and Cumberland rivers, I directed Thayer
to turn about and go under their convoy.
I started
from Fort Henry with 15,000 men, including eight batteries and
part of a regiment of cavalry, and, meeting with no obstruction
to
detain us, the advance arrived in front of the enemy by noon. That
afternoon and the next day were spent in
taking up ground to make the
investment as complete as possible. General Smith had been directed to
leave a portion
of his division behind to guard forts Henry and Heiman.
He left General Lew. Wallace with 2,500 men. With the remainder
of his
division he occupied our left, extending to Hickman creek. McClernand
was on the right and covered the roads
running south and south-west from
Dover. His right extended to the back-water up the ravine opening into
the Cumberland
south of the village. The troops were not intrenched, but
the nature of the ground was such that they were just as well
protected
from the fire of the enemy as if rifle-pits had been thrown up. Our
line was generally along the crest
of ridges. The artillery was
protected by being sunk in the ground. The men who were not serving the
guns
were perfectly covered from fire on taking position a little back
from the crest. The greatest suffering was from
want of shelter. It
was midwinter and during the siege we had rain and snow, thawing and
freezing alternately.
It would not do to allow camp-fires except far
down the hill out of sight of the enemy, and it would not do to allow
many
of the troops to remain there at the same time. In the march over
from Fort Henry numbers of the men had thrown away
their blankets and
overcoats. There was therefore much discomfort and absolute suffering.
During the 12th
and 13th, and until the arrival of Wallace and Thayer on
the 14th, the National forces, composed of but 15,000 men, without
intrenchments,
confronted an intrenched army of 21,000, without conflict
further than what was brought on by ourselves. Only one
gunboat had
arrived. There was a little skirmishing each day, brought on by the
movement of our troops in securing
commanding positions; but there was
no actual fighting during this time except once, on the 13th, in front
of McClernand's
command. That general had undertaken to capture a
battery of the enemy which was annoying his men. Without
orders or
authority he sent three regiments to make the assault. The battery was
in the main line of the enemy,
which was defended by his whole army
present. Of course the assault was a failure, and of course the loss on
our
side was great for the number of men engaged. In this assault
Colonel William Morrison fell badly wounded.
Up to this time the
surgeons with the army had no difficulty in finding room in the houses
near our line for all the
sick and wounded; but now hospitals were
overcrowded. Owing, however, to the energy and skill of the surgeons the
suffering
was not so great as it might have been. The hospital
arrangements at Fort Donelson were as complete as it was possible
to
make them, considering the inclemency of the weather and the lack of
tents, in a sparsely settled country where the
houses were generally of
but one or two rooms.
On the return of Captain Walke to Fort Henry on the 10th, I had
requested
him to take the vessels that had accompanied him on his
expedition up the Tennessee, and get possession of the Cumberland
as far
up towards Donelson as possible. He started without delay, taking,
however, only his own gunboat, the Carondelet,
towed by the steamer
Alps. Captain Walke arrived a few miles below Donelson on the 12th, a
little after noon.
About the time the advance of troops reached a point
within gunshot of the fort on the land side, he engaged the water
batteries
at long range. On the 13th I informed him of my arrival the
day before and of the establishment of most of our batteries,
requesting
him at the same time to attack again that day so that I might take
advantage of any diversion. The
attack was made and many shots fell
within the fort, creating some consternation, as we now know. The
investment
on the land side was made as complete as the number of troops
engaged would admit of.
During the night of the 13th
Flag-officer Foote arrived with the
iron-clads St. Louis, Louisville and Pittsburg and the wooden gunboats
Tyler and
Conestoga, convoying Thayer's brigade. On the morning of the
14th Thayer was landed. Wallace, whom I had ordered
over from Fort
Henry, also arrived about the same time. Up to this time he had been
commanding a brigade belonging
to the division of General C. F. Smith.
These troops were now restored to the division they belonged to, and
General
Lew. Wallace was assigned to the command of a division composed
of the brigade of Colonel Thayer and other reinforcements
that arrived
the same day. This new division was assigned to the centre, giving the
two flanking divisions an
opportunity to close up and form a stronger
line.
The plan was for the troops to hold the enemy within his lines,
while
the gunboats should attack the water batteries at close quarters and
silence his guns if possible. Some
of the gunboats were to run the
batteries, get above the fort and above the village of Dover. I had
ordered a
reconnoissance made with the view of getting troops to the
river above Dover in case they should be needed there.
That position
attained by the gunboats it would have been but a question of time--and
a very short time, too--when the
garrison would have been compelled to
surrender.
By three in the afternoon of the 14th Flag-officer Foote was ready,
and
advanced upon the water batteries with his entire fleet. After coming
in range of the batteries of the enemy
the advance was slow, but a
constant fire was delivered from every gun that could be brought to bear
upon the fort.
I occupied a position on shore from which I could see
the advancing navy. The leading boat got within a very short distance
of
the water battery, not further off I think than two hundred yards, and I
soon saw one and then another of them dropping
down the river, visibly
disabled. Then the whole fleet followed and the engagement closed for
the day. The
gunboat which Flag-officer Foote was on, besides having
been hit about sixty times, several of the shots passing through
near
the waterline, had a shot enter the pilot-house which killed the pilot,
carried away the wheel and wounded the
flag-officer himself. The
tiller-ropes of another vessel were carried away and she, too, dropped
helplessly back.
Two others had their pilot-houses so injured that they
scarcely formed a protection to the men at the wheel.
The
enemy had evidently been much demoralized by the assault, but they
were jubilant when they saw the disabled vessels dropping
down the river
entirely out of the control of the men on board. Of course I only
witnessed the falling back of
our gunboats and felt sad enough at the
time over the repulse. Subsequent reports, now published, show that the
enemy
telegraphed a great victory to Richmond. The sun went down on the
night of the 14th of February, 1862, leaving the
army confronting Fort
Donelson anything but comforted over the prospects. The weather had
turned intensely cold;
the men were without tents and could not keep up
fires where most of them had to stay, and, as previously stated, many
had
thrown away their overcoats and blankets. Two of the strongest of
our gunboats had been disabled, presumably beyond
the possibility of
rendering any present assistance. I retired this night not knowing but
that I would have to
intrench my position, and bring up tents for the
men or build huts under the cover of the hills.
On the morning
of the 15th, before it was yet broad day, a messenger
from Flag-officer Foote handed me a note, expressing a desire to
see me
on the flag-ship and saying that he had been injured the day before so
much that he could not come himself to
me. I at once made my
preparations for starting. I directed my adjutant-general to notify
each of the division
commanders of my absence and instruct them to do
nothing to bring on an engagement until they received further orders,
but
to hold their positions. From the heavy rains that had fallen for
days and weeks preceding and from the constant
use of the roads between
the troops and the landing four to seven miles below, these roads had
become cut up so as to
be hardly passable. The intense cold of the
night of the 14th-15th had frozen the ground solid. This made travel
on
horseback even slower than through the mud; but I went as fast as the
roads would allow.
When I reached the
fleet I found the flag-ship was anchored out in the
stream. A small boat, however, awaited my arrival and I was soon
on
board with the flag-officer. He explained to me in short the condition
in which he was left by the engagement
of the evening before, and
suggested that I should intrench while he returned to Mound City with
his disabled boats,
expressing at the time the belief that he could have
the necessary repairs made and be back in ten days. I saw the
absolute
necessity of his gunboats going into hospital and did not know but I
should be forced to the alternative of
going through a siege. But the
enemy relieved me from this necessity.
When I left the National line to visit
Flag-officer Foote I had no idea
that there would be any engagement on land unless I brought it on
myself. The
conditions for battle were much more favorable to us than
they had been for the first two days of the investment.
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