After a couple of weeks at Jalapa, paradise began to give way to grumbling as discontent filtered down into the ranks. While some soldiers wrote home about the variety of food they were able to purchase on the street, some of the volunteers could not enjoy that luxury. With their camp two miles away from town and money in short supply (they sometimes went months without pay), it was often impossible for them to supplement their rations. They tried to be inventive with their allotment of flour but found that all one could cook with it were “Slap Jacks,” which contained enough grease to “give an ostrich dyspepsia.” Daily rains also made for damp quarters, wet blankets, and generally uncomfortable and unhealthy living conditions. Neither the Second Pennsylvanians nor the South Carolinians had tents, so they slept out in the elements. Disease, coupled with wounds, combined to make for a steady death rate of half a dozen or more each day at Jalapa. Men of the Pennsylvania regiments had had enough. When some companies went to their colonel’s headquarters tent and demanded either money or more rations, the officer promised to look into the situation. Not satisfied with his answer, they charged a Mexican fruit stand, but were stopped short by armed guards.23
When several of the volunteer regiments were released to go home in the first week of May, it eliminated some of the breeding ground for such discontent, but it intensified a dilemma for Scott. Since arriving at Jalapa, the approaching expiration of the enlistments for the twelve-month volunteers had been a growing concern. The War Department had been promising to send enough new volunteer regiments to raise his army’s strength to 20,000, and those guarantees would continue into the summer, but as yet, none had arrived. General Patterson had advised Scott to push deep into the interior of the country so that when their time expired, the volunteers would opt to reenlist rather than hazard the long journey back to the coast. Scott chose otherwise. He released the regiments early so that they could return to Veracruz and get out of the country before the height of the yellow fever season. He also sent them home early because he knew that as the expiration date of their enlistment approached, they would likely become increasingly difficult to control. Also, because Scott did not anticipate another battle in the immediate future, it did not make sense to keep the volunteers around just to consume supplies. So on May 6, seven regiments from Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, and Illinois began the trek home. Only four volunteer regiments remained in the army, two from Pennsylvania, one from New York, and the Palmetto Regiment from South Carolina, and their enlistments were for the war’s duration. Scott’s numbers had dwindled to just over 7,100 men.24
As the volunteers were packing their gear and heading for the coast, the U.S. cutter Ewing was dropping its anchor at Veracruz with a passenger on board whose presence in Mexico seemed to confirm Scott’s suspicion about the administration. It was Polk’s special agent from the State Department, Nicholas P. Trist, whose assignment was to conduct peace negotiations with the Mexican government when the opportunity arose. When news had arrived in Washington on April 10 of the fall of Veracruz, the president immediately engaged Secretary of State James Buchanan to select a suitable representative to go to Mexico and take charge of the government’s diplomatic efforts to secure a treaty. Buchanan suggested Trist because of his knowledge and diplomatic skill. In addition to being married to Thomas Jefferson’s granddaughter, he had served as consul to Havana, Cuba, was fluent in Spanish, and familiar with Hispanic culture. As the chief clerk of the State Department, Buchanan had entrusted him with responsibilities akin to that of an undersecretary. In fact, his unfortunate title was not very descriptive of the level of duties that he fulfilled for Buchanan. Trist was a moderate expansionist, but like Scott, he was arrogant and stubborn. Polk thought the candidate’s qualifications suited the mission, so he made the appointment, and Buchanan drafted a peace proposal to the Mexican government, sealed it, and gave it to the envoy. Before Trist left Washington on April 17, Polk gave him the astonishing advice that he need not bother Scott with the particulars of his assignment. Instead, the president recommended that if he required consultation, he should feel free to approach Polk’s friend Gideon Pillow.25
The sealed proposal that Buchanan gave Trist embodied the administration’s demands for a Rio Grande boundary, and a large cession of land that included California and the New Mexico territory (this territory would eventually become the states of New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, and part of Colorado and Wyoming). The United States government in turn would pay a price that Trist had the latitude to negotiate. Polk hoped to pay no more than $25 million, but he instructed Trist that if he could also obtain lower California and right of passage across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, he could go as high as $30 million. Trist’s instructions called for him to present the proposal to the Mexican government at the earliest possible date.26
When Trist arrived in Veracruz, problems arose immediately. Once there, he learned of the American victory at Cerro Gordo, and he considered it urgent to get the administration’s peace proposal to Mexican representatives. So while waiting on the coast for an armed escort to carry him safely to Scott’s army at Jalapa, he decided to send the proposal ahead with a troop of dragoons, along with a letter from Marcy to Scott. Unfortunately, the secretary’s letter was written in such a way as to send the general into a tirade. In it, Marcy had written that Trist was “clothed with . . . diplomatic powers as will authorize him to enter into arrangements with the government of Mexico for the suspension of hostilities.” It went on to say that if “the contingency has occurred” wherein Trist instructs Scott to suspend military operations, Scott should consider it as if it were “a direction from the President.”27 The wording left Scott with the impression that he, the commanding general of the army, would be in a subservient role, taking orders from a civilian State Department employee regarding military operations. Moreover, it was evident that the administration wanted to circumvent Scott in the negotiation process, an impression that seemed obvious by the fact that he had not been made privy to the contents of the sealed proposal. And a last insult was Trist’s accompanying note instructing Scott to forward Buchanan’s proposal to the Mexican government.
Scott could not control his anger. It was an insult to be answerable to a low-level official sent by an administration that did not understand that he alone could determine, for reasons of safety and security, the appropriateness of halting his army’s operations. Nor did the administration appreciate the current state of the Mexican government, or the essential role that Scott would have to play if Trist were to make contact. These shortcomings constituted a “stupendous blind spot in Polk’s thinking,” as Trist biographer Wallace Ohrt put it. Convinced that this represented a “fire from the rear,” Scott sat down and wrote a defiant response to Trist. In it he sarcastically commented on the diplomat’s assignment as being “considered too important to be entrusted to my agency!” Knowing that his letter would be forwarded to Washington, he probably wrote that statement more for Polk than for Trist. In a derisive tone, Scott went on to assert, “I see that the Secretary of War proposes to degrade me, by requiring that I, the commander of this army, shall defer to you, the chief clerk of the Department of State, the question of continuing or discontinuing hostilities.” Scott made it clear that regardless of the diplomatic powers with which Trist was clothed, unless he held “military rank over me, . . . I shall demand” that if peace negotiations require a cease-fire, “you refer that question to me.” He also pointed out that the present state of the Mexican government, as well as a recent law making it illegal for a Mexican official to enter into peace negotiations with the Americans, made it quite impossible for him to forward Buchanan’s proposal.28
Ironically, just the previous month, Scott had made it clear to the administration that he was willing to have someone with the army who could negotiate a treaty. In an April 5 letter to Marcy, he indicated that he had laid the groundwork for a treaty by passing along to influential Mexicans the administration’s desire for a “just and honorabl
e” peace based on certain territorial considerations. He went on to invite the presence of “American commissioners at the head-quarters of this army,” which he thought would be necessary at least by the time he reached Puebla.29 But he envisioned peace commissioners who would follow his lead and act when he told them to act. Marcy’s letter now made it sound as if Scott was being subordinated to a civilian, with his role only ancillary to that of Trist. This Scott could not tolerate. After clearly defining his turf and his unwillingness to yield, he sent his intemperate letter to Trist.
But Trist could be just as arrogant and defensive as Scott, and their opening exchange did little to dispel the negative impression of Scott that the diplomat had carried with him to Mexico. The two men were acquaintances from a couple of previous meetings, but they did not really know each other. Trist, having left Veracruz with a heavily guarded wagon train, received Scott’s letter while on the road. In a lecturing manner, the diplomat demonstrated his own resolve in an eighteen-page rejoinder. After chiding Scott for not providing him with a timely escort to conduct him to Jalapa, he tried, in a condescending tone, to explain that Buchanan’s letter was sealed to give it the weight of an official document and not to hide its contents. He further informed the general that he was in Mexico at the behest of the president, the constitutional commander-in-chief of the armed forces. He pointed out that the administration’s course of action was “what any man of plain, unsophisticated common-sense would take for granted” to be the proper conduct, but Scott, with his “over-cultivated imagination,” seemed to think that it was his prerogative to determine whether the federal government would be permitted to engage in its diplomatic functions. Then, in a transparent gesture of pretended modesty, Trist described his role as that of a mere military aide, and he closed by suggesting that perhaps Scott would have been a better choice to conduct the negotiations. Be that as it may, the president had appointed him. Trist need not have spent so much time on his lengthy missive, for Scott did not bother to open it for almost two weeks.30
When Trist arrived at Jalapa on May 14, Scott took no notice or interest in him other than arranging for him to share lodging with the amiable Brigadier General Persifor Smith. Nor did Trist pay a courtesy call on Scott. The two men simply forwarded copies of their acrid correspondence to their respective superiors in Washington and fumed at each other in silence for the next week. In his anger, however, Scott rescinded his previous approval to assist Lieutenant Raphael Semmes of the navy in making contact with the Mexican government. Semmes had been sent from Veracruz by Commodore Perry on a mission to seek the release of a midshipman whom the Mexicans had captured, and Scott had indicated a willingness to help Semmes open a channel of communication. Now the general was beginning to feel the sting of insult by serving as a mere intermediary for both Trist and Semmes—men of inferior status and rank. In addition, his badly needed resources and mounted troops were being siphoned off to escort these individuals from the coast to Jalapa. Consequently, he informed Semmes that he would not facilitate his efforts, a reversal that turned Semmes into a lifelong Scott critic.31
The anger that Scott directed at Trist may have been a way of venting for a variety of frustrations, for when the diplomat arrived, the general was heavily engaged in logistical matters related to the next leg of the army’s march. The return home of several regiments had dangerously diminished his strength, and he was anxious that the promised reinforcements arrive. He needed them not only to increase the size of his modest force, but also to keep the road open from Veracruz as he moved inland. His desire was that as new regiments arrived, large detachments would move from the coast inland in successive marches frequently enough to keep the road clear of guerrillas, and their arrival would augment his numbers sufficiently to allow him to leave strong garrisons at Jalapa and Perote as the army pushed deeper into the interior. By early May, however, he had learned that the War Department had directed 3,000 of the new troops to Taylor’s army rather than to his—a revelation that was as surprising as it was disappointing. An additional disappointment came when Major General John A. Quitman’s brigade arrived in Jalapa without bringing extra rations. Scott’s explicit order before leaving Veracruz was that no body of soldiers was to move inland without bringing additional food so that the army’s supplies would be increased rather than diminished as its numbers grew.32
Before leaving Jalapa, Scott issued another proclamation designed to drive a wedge between the Mexican people and their government. His first public statement, issued after the fall of Veracruz, had a more conciliatory, olive branch and sword tenor, but this one was a harsh indictment of Mexican political and military leadership, indicating an awareness of class and social schisms in the country. In it Scott declared that the Mexican government had “criminally concealed” the truth about the cause and course of the war. He leveled harsh criticism at Santa Anna, who had deceived both the Mexican people and the United States government, and also at incompetent Mexican generals who had been “paid without service rendered.” He went on to assert that the stories circulating about American atrocities against citizens were false. “We have not profaned your temples, nor abused your women, nor seized your property. . . . The army of the United States respects, and will ever respect, private property of every class, and the property of the Mexican church.” He concluded by warning the people not to resort to guerrilla war, for such would not harm the American army but would “produce only evils to this country.”33
The last part of his proclamation addressed what was potentially the greatest source of danger to his army: widespread guerrilla activity. Such an uprising had the potential of not only cutting off his supplies from the coast, but completely debilitating his little army. Of this, Scott was well aware. With inducements and encouragement from the Mexican government, guerrilla bands of various sizes commenced raids on Scott’s supply line soon after Cerro Gordo. It was not a surprising development considering that Mexico’s conventional army had been shattered and, at least for the time being, rendered useless. Two weeks after arriving in Jalapa, Scott had sent infantry to the National Bridge halfway back to Veracruz to protect westward-bound supplies that were rumored to be vulnerable to attack in that area. A few days later, he ordered part of the First Dragoons, his own escort, back to protect a supply train coming up from the coast. Guerrillas attacked another train, killing three teamsters, before it arrived in Jalapa on May 20.34
American troops fend off an attack on a supply train. Courtesy of Special Collections Division, University of Texas at Arlington Libraries.
Stragglers were particularly vulnerable to roaming guerrilla bands. Reports came in almost daily of the discovery of the corpses of soldiers who had strayed too far from the army either in camp or on the road. A private who lagged behind his unit on its march from Cerro Gordo to Jalapa was attacked and almost beaten to death before dragoons happened along and saved him. A wagon in one of the supply trains broke down just after leaving Veracruz and the driver, thinking his proximity to the army made him immune to attack, stayed with his wagon on the side of the road as the rest of the train continued inland. Next day, American soldiers found his body with three bullet holes in it. Even in Jalapa, where the Mexicans had offered no organized resistance, random acts of violence served as reminders to Americans that they were not universally welcome. During the army’s six-week presence there, frequent confrontations occurred between U.S. soldiers and Mexicans. On at least one occasion, a guard on picket duty was found stabbed to death. Such attacks often resulted from angry Mexicans who, although hostile to the foreign invaders, were nevertheless unconnected to guerrilla partisans.35
But a guerrilla war is exactly what many American soldiers expected after Cerro Gordo. “The Mexicans have resolved on a guerrilla mode of warfare,” wrote Ralph Kirkham. It is “a cowardly mode of warfare . . . not countenanced by any civilized nation,” wrote Moses Barnard, and resort to such strategy will never work, thought Isaac Stevens. In a letter to his siste
r, Lieutenant Roswell Ripley warned what he anticipated would happen if Mexicans embarked on guerrilla warfare. “We have not yet commenced anything like the operations which a guerrilla war would compel us to carry on & which would of course have all this country a desert never to be repeopled until by the Anglo Saxon Races.” But Ripley was wrong. His proposed solution was exactly how the French had responded to the Spanish uprising in 1808, with such disastrous results. Scott’s approach, conversely, was designed to avoid such a degeneration, and Lieutenant Isaac Stevens displayed an instinctive grasp of the commanding general’s objectives. A guerrilla strategy will not work because “General Scott will enforce the strictest discipline, and the people of the country will remain undisturbed in their houses,” Stevens wrote to his wife. “A fair price will be paid for everything that is consumed. The war will be made to bear with a heavy hand upon all connected with the government.”36
chapter seven
Puebla
Waiting All Summer
Waiting for reenforcements, the halt, at Puebla, was protracted and irksome. . . . We were also kept on the alert by an army sometimes of superior numbers, hovering about us, and often assuming a menacing attitude. . . . On these occasions it was painful to restrain the ardor of the troops. But I steadily held to the policy not to wear out patience and sole leather by running to the right or left in the pursuit of small game. I played for the big stakes. Keeping the army massed and the mind fixed upon the capital.
—Winfield Scott, Commanding General
A Gallant Little Army Page 17