Ahead of the Army

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER VI.

  FORWARD, MARCH

  The sun of the next morning arose upon a great deal of doubt anduncertainty in many places. Some of the soldiers of General Taylor'sarmy were altogether uncertain into what bushes of the neighboringchaparral the norther had blown their tents, and they went out in searchof their missing cotton duck shelters. The entire force encamped at theRio Grande border was in the dark as to what it might next be ordered todo, and all sorts of rumors went around from regiment to regiment, as ifthe rumor manufacturer had gone crazy. General Taylor himself was sureof at least the one point, that he had no right to cross the muddy riverin front of him and make a raid into Mexico until he should hear againfrom the government at Washington, and be officially informed that thewar, which he was carrying on so well, had really begun. He and all hisarmy believed that it was already going on, and they grumbleddiscontentedly that they were compelled to remain in camp, and watch forranchero lancers on Texan soil, if it was legally Texan at all, untilpermission arrived to strike their tents and march forward.

  The news of the fighting and of what were described as the great battleson the Mexican border had reached New Orleans and Key West. It wastravelling northward at full speed, but it had not yet been heard by thegovernment or by the people of the North and West. None of these had asyet so much as imagined what a telegraphic news-bringer might be, and sothey could not even wish that they had one, or they would surely havedone so. The uncertainties of that morning, therefore, hampered all thecouncils of the nation. Almost everybody believed that there would soonbe a war, although a great many men were strongly opposed to the idea ofhaving one. Taking the war for granted, however, there were doubts anddifferences of opinion among both military and unmilitary men as to howit was to be carried on. Some were opposed to anything more than adefence of the Rio Grande boundary-line, but these moderate persons werehooted at by the out-and-out war party, whom nothing promised tosatisfy but an invasion which intended the capture of the city ofMexico. Nothing less than this, they said, would obtain the objects ofthe war, and secure a permanent peace at the end of it. Then, supposingsuch an invasion to be decided on, an important question arose as to howand where the Mexican territory might best be entered by a conqueringarmy. Many declared that General Taylor's forces were already at theright place for pushing ahead, but the commander-in-chief, GeneralWinfield Scott, by all odds the best general the country possessed,responded that the march proposed for Taylor was too long, toodifficult, and that it was likely to result in disaster. The shorter andonly practicable route, he asserted, was by way of the sea and VeraCruz. He was also known to be politically opposed to any war whatever.Thereupon, a number of prominent men, who disagreed with him, setthemselves at work to have him removed or put aside, that a commandermight take his place who was not so absurdly under the influence ofmilitary science, common sense, and of the troubles which might beencountered in marching seven hundred miles or more through an enemy'scountry. There were, it was said, eloquent politicians, who did notknow how to drill an "awkward squad," but who felt sure of their abilityto beat Old Scott in such an agreeable affair as a military picnic partyto the city of Mexico.

  The young military scholars in the camp near Fort Brown were ignorant ofall this. They were satisfied with their present commander, as well theymight be, for he was a good one. They were satisfied with themselves,and were enthusiastically ready to fight anything which should be put infront of them. They were dreadfully dissatisfied with camp life,however, and especially with the fact that they and all the other rawtroops of that army were forced to undergo a great deal of drill anddiscipline in hot weather. Perhaps, if this had not been given them,they would hardly have rendered so good an account of themselves in thesevere tests of soldiership which they underwent a few months later.

  The first doubt that came to Ned Crawford that morning, as his eyesopened and he began to get about half-awake, related to his hammock andto how on earth he happened to be in it. Swift memories followed then ofthe norther, the perilous pull ashore, the arrival at the Tassara place,and the people he had met there. He recalled also something aboutsilver coffee-urns and Moorish warriors, but the next thing, he was outupon the floor, and his head seemed to buzz like a beehive withinquiries concerning his immediate future.

  "Here I am," he said aloud. "I'm in Mexico; in Vera Cruz; at this housewith Senor Zuroaga; and I don't know yet what's become of the _Goshhawk_.I don't really ever expect to see her again, but I hope that CaptainKemp and the sailors didn't get themselves drowned. I must see aboutthat, first thing. Then I suppose I must see the American consul, writeanother letter home, see the merchants our goods were delivered to,--andwhat I'm to do after that I don't know."

  There was a loud rap at his door just then, and in a moment more he wasalmost repeating that speech to Senor Zuroaga.

  "Please say very little to Colonel Tassara or anybody else in thishouse," replied the senor, emphatically. "Get used, as soon as you can,to being called Carfora. We must make you look like a young Mexicanright away. I've bought a rig which will fit you. It is well that youare so dark-complexioned. A red-haired fellow would never pass as youwill. All the American residents of Vera Cruz are already undermilitary protection, and I am glad there are so few of them, for thereare said to have been two or three assassinations. Part of the mountainmen who are loafing in town just now are wild Indians, as reckless andcruel as any of your Sioux warriors on a war-path. Come along tobreakfast. You won't meet the ladies this time, but I believe the senoraand senorita like you a little, because you had the good taste to admiretheir silver and china."

  "Oh, that old coffee-urn!" said Ned. "Well, it's as fine as anything Iever saw, even in a jewelry window."

  "Yes," laughed the senor, "but the senora wants to have the Americanconsul killed because he told her she had better have that thing meltedand made over into one of the modern patterns. She will never forgivehim. Tell her again, when you have a chance, that the old-time Sevillesilversmiths could beat anything we have nowadays, and she will loveyou. I do not really believe myself that we are getting much ahead ofthose ancient artists. They were wonderful designers."

  Ned was willing to believe that they were, and he made up his mind topraise Senora Tassara's pet urn to the best of his ability.

  He was not to have an opportunity for doing so immediately. Theirbreakfast was ready for them in the dining-room, but they were allowedto eat it by themselves. It seemed to Ned a very good one, but severaltimes he found himself turning away from it to stare at the silvermarvel and at the weapons on the walls. There was no apparent reason forhaste, but neither of them cared to linger, and before long they wereout on the piazza in front, Zuroaga with his hat pulled down to his eyesand his coat collar up. Ned was at once confirmed in his previous ideathat the house was anything but new, and to that he added the convictionthat it was much larger than it had appeared to be in the night. Hebelieved, too, that it must have cost a deal of money to build it longago. He had only a moment for that calculation, however, for his nextglance went out toward the gulf, and he came near to being astonished.The path which he had followed in coming up from the shore had been asteep one, and he was now standing at a place from which he had a prettygood view of the tossing water between the mainland and the castle ofSan Juan de Ulua. The old fortress was there, unharmed by the norther,but not in any direction, as far as his eyes could reach, was there anysign of a ship, at anchor or otherwise.

  "Senor!" he exclaimed. "What has become of them? They are all gone! Doyou suppose they have been wrecked?"

  "Not all of them, by any means," replied the senor, but he also wassearching the sea with a serious face. "As many as could lift theiranchors in time to make a good offing before the norther came were sureto do so. If there were any that did not succeed, I can't say where theymay have gone to just now."

  "The _Goshhawk_--" began Ned, but the senor gripped his arm hard, whilehe raised his right hand and pointed up the road.

 
"Silence!" he commanded, in a sharp whisper. "Look! there he comes.Don't even call him by his name. Wait and hear what he has to say. Hecan tell us what has become of the bark. They are a used-up lot of men."

  So they were, the five who now came walking slowly along from somewhereor other on the coast upon which the disastrous storm had blown.

  "Captain Kemp and the crew of his life-boat," thought Ned, but he obeyedthe senor at first, and was silent until the haggard-looking partyarrived and came to a halt in front of him. Then, however, he lost hisprudence for a moment, and anxiously inquired:

  "Were any of you drowned?"

  "Not any of us that are here," responded the captain, grimly. "No, norany other of the _Goshhawk_ men, but there are more wrecks in sightbelow, and I don't know how many from them got ashore. Our bark strandedthis side of them, and she's gone all to pieces. We took to thelife-boat in time, but we've had a hard pull of it. We went ashorethrough the breakers, about six miles below this, and here we are, but Idon't want to ever pass such another night. I'm going on down to theconsul's now, to report, and Ned had better be there as soon as he can.Then, the sooner he's out o' Vera Cruz, the better for him and all ofus."

  "I think so myself," said Senor Zuroaga. "Don't even stay here forbreakfast. Nobody from here must come to the consul's with SenorCarfora."

  "Of course not," said the captain, wearily, and away he went, althoughNed felt as if he were full to bursting with the most interesting kindof questions concerning the captain's night in the life-boat and thesad fate of the swift and beautiful _Goshhawk_.

  "Come into the house," said the senor, "and put on your Mexican rig. Ihave a message from Colonel Guerra that we must get away to-night. Imust not bring any peril upon the Tassara family. Up to this hour noenemy knows that I was a passenger on the powder-boat, as they call it."

  "All right," said Ned. "I'll write one more letter home. I couldn't getout of the city in any other way just now, and I want to see Mexico."

  That idea was growing upon him rapidly, but his next errand was to thesenor's own room, to put on what he called his disguise. He followed hisfriend to a large, handsome chamber in the further end of the house,and, as he entered it, his first thought was:

  "Hullo! are they getting ready for a fight?"

  In the corners of the room and leaning against the walls here and therewere weapons enough to have armed half a company of militia, if thesoldiers did not care what kinds of weapons they were to carry, for theguns and swords and pistols were of all patterns except those of thepresent day. Ned saw at least one rusty firelock, which put him in mindof pictures he had seen of the curious affairs the New England fatherscarried when they went to meeting on Sunday. He had no time to examinethem, however, for here were his new clothes, and he must be in themwithout delay. He admired each piece, as he put it on, and then one lookinto the senor's mirror convinced him that he was completely disguised.He had been turned into a somewhat stylish young Mexican, from hisbroad-brimmed straw hat to his Vera Cruz made shoes. He still wore ablue jacket, but this one was short, round-cornered, and had brightsilver buttons. His new trousers were wide at the bottoms, withsilver-buttoned slashes on the outsides below the knees. He had not wornsuspenders on shipboard, but now his belt was of yellow leather andneedlessly wide, with a bright buckle and a sword-catch on the leftside. As to this matter, the senor showed him a short, straight,wide-bladed sort of cutlas, which he called a machete.

  "That is to be yours," he said. "You need not carry it in town, but youwill as soon as we get away. You will have pistols, too, and a gun. Itwon't do to go up the road to Oaxaca unarmed. Now you may make the bestof your way to the consul's, and I'll stay here to finish gettingready."

  He appeared to be laboring under a good deal of excitement, and so, totell the truth, was the disguised young American. Out he went into thehall, trying hard to be entirely collected and self-possessed, but itwas only to be suddenly halted. Before him stood the stately SenoraTassara, and clinging to her was the very pretty Senorita Felicia, bothof them staring, open-eyed, at the change in his uniform. The senoritawas of about fourteen, somewhat pale, with large, brilliant black eyes,and she was a very frank, truthful girl, for she exclaimed:

  "Oh, mother, do look at him! But it does not make a Mexican of him. He'sa gringo, and he would fight us if he had a chance. I want them all tobe killed!"

  "No, my dear," said the senora, with a pleasant laugh. "Senor Carforawill not fight us. He and his ship brought powder for Colonel Guerra andthe army. I am sorry he must leave us. You must shake hands with him."

  "Oh, no!" said the wilful Felicia, spitefully. "I don't want to shakehands with him. He is one of our enemies."

  "No, I'm not!" stammered Ned. "But did you know that our ship waswrecked in the norther? If you had been on board of her when she wentashore, you would have been drowned. The men in the life-boat had a hardtime in getting ashore. I'm glad you were at home."

  "There, dear," said her mother. "That is polite. You heard what SenorZuroaga said about the wrecks. They were terrible! Can you not say thatyou are glad Senor Carfora was not drowned?"

  "No, mother," persisted Felicia. "I'll say I wish he had been drowned,if--if he could have swum ashore afterward. Good enough for him."

  Senora Tassara laughed merrily, as she responded:

  "You are a dreadfully obstinate young patriot, my darling. But you mustbe a little more gracious. The gringo armies will never come to VeraCruz. They are away up north on the Rio Grande."

  "Well, mother, I will a little," said the senorita, proudly. "SenorCarfora, your generals will be beaten all to pieces. You wait till yousee our soldiers. You haven't anything like them. They are as brave aslions. My father is a soldier, and he is to command a regiment. I wish Iwere a man to go and fight."

  Her eyes were flashing and she looked very warlike, but the only thingthat poor Ned could think of to say just then was:

  "Senora Tassara, if you are not careful, somebody will get in some dayand steal your beautiful coffee-urn."

  "Ah me!" sighed the senora. "This has been attempted, my young friend.Thieves have been killed, too, in trying to carry off the Tassara plate.There would be more like it, in some places, if so much had not beenmade plunder of and melted up in our dreadful revolutions. Some of themwere only great robberies. I understand that you must go to yourbusiness now, but we shall see you again this evening."

  "Good morning, Senora Tassara," said Ned, as he bowed and tried to walkbackward toward the outer door. "Good morning, Senorita Tassara. Youwould feel very badly this morning if you had been drowned last night."

  The last thing he heard, as he reached the piazza, was a ringing peal oflaughter from the senora, but he believed that he had answered politely.

  He knew his way to the office of the American consul, and the distancewas not great in so small a town, but as he drew near it, he saw thatthere was a strong guard of soldiers in front of the building. Theywere handsomely uniformed regulars from the garrison of San Juan deUlua, and there was cause enough for their being on duty. All up anddown the street were scattered groups of sullen-looking men, talking andgesticulating. None of them carried guns, but every man of them had aknife at his belt, and not a few of them were also armed with machetesof one form or another. They would have made a decidedly dangerous mobagainst anything but the well-drilled and fine-looking guards who wereprotecting the consulate. Ned remembered what Felicia had said about hersoldiers, and he did not know how very different were these disciplinedregulars from the great mass of the levies which were to be encounteredby the troops of the United States. He was admiring them and he wasthinking of battles and generals, when one of the most ferocious-lookingmembers of the mob came jauntily sauntering along beside him. He was apowerfully built man, almost black with natural color and sunburn. Hewas not exactly ragged, but he was barefooted, and his broad-brimmedsombrero was by no means new. A heavy machete hung from his belt, and heappeared to be altogether an undesirable new acquaintance. Ned loo
kedup at him almost nervously, for he did not at all like the aspect ofaffairs in that street. He was thinking:

  "I guess they were right about the excitement of the people. This isn'tany place for fellows like me. I must get out of Vera Cruz as soon as Ican. It's a good thing that I'm disguised. I must play Mexican."

  At that moment a good-natured smile spread across the gloomy face of hisunexpected companion, and he said, in a low tone of voice:

  "Say nothing, Senor Carfora. Walk on into the consulate. I belong toGeneral Zuroaga. There are four more of his men here. We have orders totake care of you. You are the young Englishman that brought us thepowder. There was not a pound to be bought in Vera Cruz, but some ofthose fellows would knife you for a gringo."

  "WE HAVE ORDERS TO TAKE CARE OF YOU"]

  Quite a useless number of queer Spanish oaths were sprinkled in amonghis remarks, but Ned did not mind them. He only nodded and strictlyobeyed the injunction against talking, even while he was asking himselfhow on earth his friend, the senor, ever became a general. He concluded,for the moment, that it might be a kind of militia title, such as he hadheard of in the United States. However that might be, he and hisguide soon reached the door of the consulate, and he himself waspromptly admitted, as if the keeper of the door had been expecting tosee him. There were guards inside the house as well as in the street,and they motioned Ned on through a narrow entry-way, at the end of whichwas an open room. He passed on into this, and the next moment he wasexclaiming:

  "Hullo, Captain Kemp! I'm so glad you are here! What am I to do next?"

  "Almost nothing at all," said the captain, quietly. "Just sign yourpapers and get away. The consul himself has gone to the city of Mexico,with United States government despatches for President Paredes, and weshall finish our business as easy as rolling off a log. You have nothingto do with the wrecking of the _Goshhawk_, for you weren't on board whenshe parted her cable. But just look at those people!"

  Ned did so, for the room, a large and well-furnished office, was almostcrowded with Americans of all sorts, mostly men, whose faces wore variedexpressions of deep anxiety.

  "What are they all here for?" asked Ned.

  "Safety!" growled the captain. "And to inquire how and when they canfind their way out of this city of robbers. I hear that a wholeregiment is to be on guard duty to-night, and that the mob is to be putdown. If I ever see your father again, I'll explain to him why I sentyou away."

  Before Ned could make any further remarks, he was introduced to thevice-consul, a dapper, smiling little man, who did not appear to be inthe least disturbed by his unpleasant surroundings. Almost a score ofpapers, larger and smaller, required the signature of the youngsupercargo of the unfortunate _Goshhawk_. They were speedily signed,although without any clear idea in Ned's mind as to what they all werefor, and then Captain Kemp took him by the arm and led him away into acorner of the room.

  "Ned, my boy," he said, "you see how it is. You must keep away from theseacoast for awhile. After things are more settled, you can come backand get away on a British, or French, or Dutch vessel, if the port isn'ttoo closely blockaded. Whether I shall get out alive or not, I don'tknow. You haven't enough money. I'll let you have a couple of hundreddollars more in Mexican gold. You'd better not let anybody suspect thatyou carry so much with you. This country contains too many patriots whowould cut their own President's throat for a gold piece. Don't ever showmore than one shiner at a time, or you may lose it all."

  Ned took the two little bags that were so cautiously delivered to him,and while he was putting them away in the inner pockets of his jacket,his mind was giving him vivid pictures of the knives and machetes andtheir bearers, whom he had seen in the street.

  "Captain," he said, "those fellows out there wouldn't wait for any gold.A silver dollar would buy one of them."

  "Half a dollar," replied the captain. "Not one of them is worth ashilling. They ought all to be shot. But look here. I mustn't come toColonel Tassara's place again. I find that he is under some kind ofsuspicion already, and President Paredes makes short work of men whom hesuspects of plotting against him. Go! Get home!"

  "That's just about what I'd like to do," said Ned to himself, as hehurried out of the consulate, but the next moment his courage began tocome back to him, for here was Senor Zuroaga's ferocious-lookingfollower, and with him were four others, who might have been his cousinsor his brothers, from their looks, for they all were Oaxaca Indians, ofunmixed descent. Their tribe had faithfully served the children andgrandchildren of Hernando Cortes, the Conquistador, from the day when heand his brave adventurers cut their way into the Tehuantepec valley.