Soldiers of Conquest

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Soldiers of Conquest Page 16

by F. M. Parker

Nearly 3,800 Mexican troopers had been captured. A thousand had escaped from their guards, which didn’t bother Scott for he released the remaining 2,800 on their parole not to fight again. One hundred and ninety nine Mexican officers had been captured, and like at Veracruz, Scott had released the senior ones with their side arms and horses with the thought that they would report his generosity to other officers and weaken their resolve to fight. Forty-three pieces of artillery and 5,000 muskets with considerable ammunition had been taken. Scott had everything destroyed, except for half a dozen of the better cannons.

  The general said something that Lee couldn’t hear, but set the officers closest to him into a burst of laughter, as if they had already forgotten that the bloody corpses of the 63 dead Americans were sewn into their blankets and stacked like cordwood in two tents but a short distance away. Five of the dead were their fellow officers. The corpses would travel with the army until lumber could be found for the carpenters to make coffins, and then they would be buried in shallow graves here in this foreign land. Once the war ended, the bodies would be retrieved and shipped to the man’s home for proper burial.

  Lee saw two of his lieutenants, Tower and Beauregard, whom he had assigned to guide Pillow, conversing in low voices and went to talk to them. They saluted when he drew near.

  “I’ve heard some interesting comments about General Pillow’s actions on Santa-Anna’s right,” Lee said. “What do you two know about what happened?”

  “Captain, General Pillow really botched it,” Beauregard said with disgust. “He wouldn’t listen to advice from Tower or me, nor from his second in command Colonel Campbell, so we took the wrong route that led us close to the enemy positions. Then he yelled commands at Colonel Wyncoop so loudly that Mexicans heard him and opened fire. The Tennessee volunteers were caught in cannon and musket fire at almost point-blank range. I saw a cannon ball hit a rifleman and kill him and wound six other poor fellows close by.”

  “Captain, excuse me for saying this about a superior officer, but the man is no general,” Tower said in a contemptuous voice. “He has no judgment. Worse yet he failed to carry out what General Scott wanted because he ordered the assault without getting the columns in proper order. Then to top everything off, he got a slight wound on the arm and left the field with the regiments disorganized. Once he was gone we did the best we could under Colonel Campbell.”

  “Has General Scott talked with either of you?” Lee asked.

  “No, sir,” Tower said. “But I know that he called Colonel Campbell and Wyncoop into his tent and I’m betting they told him what happened.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Beauregard said. “Captain, would you be sure to see that General Scott finds out the truth of General Pillow’s actions?”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Just then Scott called out. “Captain Lee, please come into my tent. Bring your two lieutenants with you?”

  “Now we’ll get our chance,” Beauregard said with a pleased tone.

  *

  In the night, Lee wrote his wife and sons of the events since last he corresponded with them nearly a week before. He told about the battle for Cerro Gordo and a little of his role. He made a special statement to his sons, “You have no idea what a horrible sight a field of battle is, and I will not describe it for you because of your tender age. Just be certain that it isn’t something you should ever have to be part of.”

  He turned to a second letter, and began with, “My beautiful Tasy, we have just captured Cerro Gordo, a town in the mountains far inland from the coast.” He paused with his pen held over the paper. Tasy’s eyes though truly innocent, were the most feminine he had ever seen. As he recalled their liquid depths, the gloom that had fallen on him lifted and a pleasant mood replaced it. All men should have young, pretty women as friends. He smiled and resumed writing.

  *

  The divisions of Patterson and Twiggs broke camp in the newness of the beautiful April day, and with Scott and his generals and Lee and the other staff officers in the lead, lined out on the road for Jalapa. The infantry, proud of the victory they had won, swung along with a light step.

  At the entrance to Jalapa, the town officials wearing bright sashes of authority, over equally brilliant trousers and jackets, waited for the Americans to arrive. Scott had earlier sent an armed group to arrange for the surrender ceremony. Patterson having been given the honor of governing Jalapa, now rode forward with an interpreter. He graciously listened to the short speech by the mayor, and then in turn promised the safety of the townsfolk and their possessions as long as no hostile act was made against the Americans.

  The Americans entered Jalapa. Scott led followed by his kite-tail of staff officers and an escort of Dragoons. Then came the troops in dress ranks with bayonets fixed, colors flying and regimental bands playing. The streets were thronged with the citizens of the town. A score of church bells rang out a welcome, the welcome totally unexpected.

  Lee was surprised by the number of young women with fair complexion, some with hazel eyes and others with blue. Most lovely he thought. Several of the girls laughed and waved at the Americans with their bewhiskered faces and battle worn uniforms. How strange considering this army of men had slain hundreds of their countrymen but two days before. Young women were difficult to understand.

  Scott rode to the central plaza of the town and halted in front of Governor’s Palace, a grand structure with an impressive array of steps leading up to the entrance. He dismounted from his big gray horse and went up the wide stairway with a chink of spur chains and tinkle of spurs at each step. At the top, he removed his gold braded cockaded hat and waved it in a broad sweep to include the assemblage of townsfolk and soldiers alike, placed it back on his head and strode inside the building

  Scott was an excellent representative for the stalwart American Army, Lee thought. The general had led it to victory and now his men were safe from the sweltering coastal plain and the deadly yellow fever.

  Lee left the gathering. As he passed near Patterson who was talking with the mayor and pointing at several large homes near the Palace, he heard the general say he was commandeering the buildings for use as a hospital for the American wounded. The occupation of Jalapa was complete.

  *

  Lee rode alone, pushing his mount for he wanted to overtake Worth’s division before nightfall. This should not be difficult for an army on the march was a slow moving creature. He also rode fast because there was safety in speed when traveling without an escort through enemy country. Scott had ordered him to join with Worth in an advance to Perote. Lee, if he judged it safe to proceed further, was to continue on to Puebla another sixty miles and evaluate its suitability as to a station for assembling and storing supplies in the 260 miles between Veracruz and Mexico City. After the reconnaissance he was to return to Jalapa and prepare a plan to occupy and garrison Puebla.

  He came upon many women moving slowly with children and bent under heavy burdens of food, cooking utensils, and blankets. A woman with an infant wrapped in her rebozo, and another heavy with child and walking awkwardly didn’t bother to look up from the ground as he passed with a pound of hooves. They had followed their men to war and now were retreating, though not as speedily as the men.

  *

  With the Dragoons out front as skirmishers and scouting for Mexican forces, Worth marched his brigade up the National Highway climbing ever higher into the Sierra Madre Mountains. The road curved and twisted in tight bends as it made its route across the steep flank of Cofre De Perote, “Perote’s Chest”, the broad, round topped mountain rearing 13,000 feet on the left hand.

  Grant and several other junior officers rode horseback behind Worth and his brigade commanders, Garland and Clarke. All the officers warily watched the mountainsides above them and now and again caught sight of bands of Mexican soldiers stealing through the woods off at a distance from the road. They were the defeated ones for most had no weapons and were moving in the same direction as the Americans, toward
Mexico City.

  Lee rode up on a lathered horse and reported his arrival to Worth. The two men talked briefly and then Lee fell back to ride with Grant and the others.

  *

  In the edge of night and half way to Perote’s Castle, the army made camp on a restricted section of level ground in a mountain pass at 8000 feet. Dense clouds blanketed the high mountain and the men quickly built fires. With the smell of burning pine wood, they ate rations of hard bread and dry beef from their knapsacks, and struck up conversations.

  The swirling mist made the fires burn poorly and the wintry chill of the mountain soon brought an end to the talking. The men rolled into their blankets and went to sleep with the mist collecting as cool dew on their beards and eyebrows and the wool of their blankets.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Now that’s strange, a Mexican coming to meet us,” Grant said. The lone horseman came into sight galloping toward the caravan from off on the right. He rode a fine long legged sorrel and towed behind him three equally fine animals on lengths of rope. The rider reached the National Highway and halted in the center and sat horseback facing the Americans.

  “That fellow doesn’t seem afraid of us,” Lee observed.

  “He’s got horses to sell us,” Grant said and designing the man’s purpose.

  “Our cavalry could sure use them.”

  “Hackett, back me up with the lingo,” Grant called over his shoulder to the man.

  “Yes, sir.” Hackett said and rode up to stand beside his lieutenant.

  Worth’s division had come down from the mountains and occupied Perote Castle. With the Americans on short rations, the general had ordered Garland’s brigade with Duncan’s artillery battery to advance another fifteen miles to the village of Tepeyahuatl and there to gather subsistence for men and horses. Reaching the town, Garland immediately instructed Grant to go foraging. Grant assembled a caravan of wagons and with 300 infantrymen under Hazlitt and 200 Dragoons under Chilton as escort had marched off on the National Highway in the direction of the famous city of Puebla lying sixty miles distant. Lee carrying out Scott’s order to scout Puebla as a staging area for supplies was accompanying Grant as far as he went toward Puebla.

  “I’d bet he’d be a tough hombre in a fight,” Grant said to Lee as he evaluated the Mexican. The man had a burly body, a big head, black curly hair protruding from under a broad brimmed hat, and a full beard. Two pistols were stuck under his belt and a carbine was in a scabbard under his right leg. Expensive clothing showed through a thin covering of dust. Grant noted the man’s intelligent black eyes set deeply under a high, weathered brow. He guessed his age at somewhere between forty-five and fifty.

  Grant raised his hand and stopped the convoy a few yards from the man. He remained silent, let the Mexican start the conversation.

  “I am Manuel Dominguez and I’m very glad to have found you,” the man said in Spanish.

  Grant nodded and spoke in Spanish, “Why did you want to find us?”

  “To sell you these excellent horses.” He centered on Grant’s mount. “Though you have an excellent mount already.”

  “How much for each?”

  “Twenty pesos in silver.”

  “Twelve,” Grant said. Mexicans horses were beautiful, but in general, as with this man’s, they were more lightly built than American steeds.

  “I accept twelve,” Dominguez said without bargaining.

  Grant was surprised at the quick agreement for usually the dickering went on for at least three rounds before a price was agreed upon. “Captain, I think this fellow has come for something other than to sell horses.”

  “Like what?” Lee asked.

  Grant spoke to Dominguez, “What else do you have to sell?”

  Dominguez’s face turned fierce and his eyes blazed. “I wish to sell you my hate for General Santa-Anna. It would be my honor to help you defeat and hopefully kill him for he is a thief and murderer.”

  Grant turned in surprise to Hackett. “Did I understand that correctly? Does he want to be our man against Santa-Anna?”

  “That’s the size of it, lieutenant. He wants to work for us”

  “Captain Lee, you should be the one talking with him,” Grant said.

  “Seems so,” Lee said. He spoke to Hackett. “Ask him why he’d help us.”

  Dominguez grasped the meaning of the English words, and spoke heatedly. “I hate the military for soldiers are protected from the law. Because they have no fear of punishment, they rob the people, kill them. Santa-Anna is the worst of them. He robbed me and burned my hacienda. Now some call me a bandit because I fight the soldiers. But still I have many friends among the people. To have my revenge upon Santa-Anna, I will help you defeat him in battle. I hope to have the chance to kill him.”

  Dominguez stopped talking and with a struggle composed himself.

  “How could you help us?” Lee asked. He had heard of the Mexican law “Fuero” which gave the army and the Catholic Church immunity from the authority of the civil law and its courts. He didn’t think a country could be fair and just to all its people if part were exempt from the law. That condition must be one of the reasons responsible for the weakness of the nation.

  “I would spy upon his army and bring you information. Or I would be your guide, or carry messages where your riders can’t go. And I wouldn’t be alone for I have forty men who have also been wronged by the military and have sworn allegiance to me. I could recruit another hundred and fifty to join me if you wanted them.”

  Lee knew the army needed Mexicans to spy for it, but was the man telling the truth? He spoke to Dominguez. “We need men like you say your are. So come with us now and be our guide and help fill our wagons with food. Then when I return to report to my general, I’ll take you to see him.”

  “Many thanks, captain,” Dominguez said and touched his forehead in salute. “To show you I speak the truth, there is a company of guerrillas waiting in those hills to attack you.” He jabbed a finger at a range of wooded hills an hour ride ahead. “And I know men with stores of food who will gladly sell to you.”

  “I think you may now have the beginnings of a spy ring,” Grant said to Lee. “Still this could all be a trick.”

  “We need such men and should take a chance on Dominguez for a time,” Lee said.

  He turned to Hackett. “Listen closely to what he says when we meet other Mexicans. If he says something wrong, or gives a signal that means trouble for us, shoot him.”

  “Glad to, sir.”

  “I’ll form up the men to be ready for the attack,” Grant said.

  He shortened the convoy by rolling the wagons two abreast along the road, the infantrymen marching four abreast, and the Dragoons also by fours. They brushed aside the guerrilla attack with but a few men wounded. During the next day and a half with Domiguez guiding, they filled the two hundred and fifty wagons.

  With the vehicles sagging under heavy loads of foodstuffs, flour for bread, meat of several kinds, fresh vegetables and fruits, and grain for the brigade horses, Grant lead his convoy back toward Tepeyahuatl and from there on back to Perote Castle. As he listened to the din of cracking whips, squeal of axles, and the curses of the teamsters, he felt pleased that his job had been well done and his comrades’ stomachs would soon be full.

  Lee and Dominguez had left the convoy when it turned south. They were miles away and galloping their mounts up the National Highway toward Puebla.

  *

  Lee and Dominguez riding jaded horses arrived back in Jalapa in the early night of the fifth day after receiving Scott’s orders to scout Puebla. The darkness filling the streets was broken here and there by the light that escaped from the open windows and doors of the houses and cantinas. American soldiers from the army encampment just outside town roamed about talking and laughing. Music of pianos and guitars and the rumble of men voices and the friendly laughter of women floated out to Lee from the cantinas and he thought it a fine sound. He guided Dominguez on with the darkness a
welcome mask for it would prevent Santa-Anna’s spies among the townsfolk from seeing the armed Mexican with Lee and possibly ruin his use as a spy.

  They had reached Puebla, a city of 80,000 citizens and the second largest in Mexico within one day after leaving Grant and the convoy. Dominguez had obtained Mexican clothing for Lee, and with him wearing these as a disguise, they had ridden through the city and observed its garrison and defenses and evaluated it for use as an army depot. They rode hard all day and into the night to return to Jalapa.

  Lee and Dominguez dismounted in front of Scott’s headquarters. The sergeant of the guard came up quickly and saluted Lee. “Good evening, Captain Lee.”

  “Evening, sergeant. Is the general in?”

  “Yes, sir, and I’ve got standing orders to send you straight to him when you got here. Do you plan to take the Mexican in with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I got to have his guns.”

  Lee motioned for Dominguez to hand over his pistols. Dominguez hesitated, fingering the butts of the pistols. With obvious reluctance he slid them from his belt and handed them to the sergeant.

  When Lee and Dominguez entered Scott’s office, the general was talking with Patterson and Hitchcock at a table littered with maps and papers. Scott rose at once and came forward and pumped Lee’s hand heartily. “Glad to see you’re back safe, captain.”

  “Thank you, general.”

  “Who’s this fellow with you?”

  Dominguez understood the meaning of the question even thought it was spoken in English. He put out his hand. “I am Manuel Dominguez.”

  Scott hesitated but a second before taking the offered hand. “I am General Scott,” he said. He stepped back from Dominguez and cast a questioning eye at Lee.

  “He says he’s an enemy of Santa-Anna and wants to help us defeat him.”

  Scott gave Dominguez an intense stare. The Mexican, looking up at the much taller Scott, returned it without a blink. They stood for seconds with their eyes probing and measuring each other.

  Lee was struck by the strangeness of this unexpected convergence between radically different men sharing a critical point in time, the brown skinned Dominguez wanting to betray his country and the white skinned Scott determined to conquer it.

 

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