Marching deep into the enemy’s country is sometimes treacherous and always audacious. Keeping the American army dispersed while on the move was a logistical necessity because feeding the men and animals was no simple affair. When Worth’s lead division had pushed forward thirty-five miles to Perote the previous month, Scott had instructed him “to gather from the country” most of his supplies and all of his forage. And, of course, all forms of subsistence gathered in the country had to be purchased from citizens in accord with Scott’s pacification policy, or else “they will be withheld, concealed, or destroyed by the owners.” Not only must provisions be purchased, but they also had to be distributed and consumed with economy. Now as Worth prepared for the next leg of the journey, an eighty-mile march to Puebla, Scott reminded him of his “lively desire of conciliating the unoffending inhabitants of the country, by protecting their persons and property.”1
The administration in Washington did not adequately appreciate—nor have subsequent historical accounts—the intricate orchestration involved in the army’s westward push to Mexico City. Before Scott could roll up the army’s tail, he had to push the head forward so that the larger area occupied would be able to sustain his men. Thus, as the Jalapa troops began marching out in stages beginning with Quitman’s command on May 7, Worth’s lead division prepared to vacate Perote and proceed to Puebla. For a time, his army would be spread over some sixty miles from Jalapa to Puebla—a significant risk in a foreign country. None “but our gallant officers and troops would have dared such a movement,” thought Joseph Smith.2 However, Scott knew his enemy, knew that Santa Anna’s army was unable to offer stiff resistance so soon after Cerro Gordo, and on a more practical level, knew that such was necessary in order to live off the land. Scott had an adequate understanding of the limitations of his opponent, but he also possessed the audacity that was born out of self-confidence—a trait that Captain Robert E. Lee may well have picked up from his commanding general in Mexico. In addition, Scott knew from Jane Storm’s messages and other intelligence sources that he was not likely to face opposition in the cities. Moses Beach had succeeded in gaining cooperation from the priests in Mexico City, along with assurances that they would cultivate an attitude of nonresistance among the clergy in Puebla, Jalapa, and other towns.
Two weeks after Quitman marched out of Jalapa, Scott departed with the remainder of the army, the bulk of which was composed of Twiggs’s division of 2,600 men. A small garrison under Colonel Thomas Childs and consisting of Second Pennsylvania volunteers and some detachments of regulars remained in Jalapa, much to their displeasure. A few days after Scott’s departure, Lieutenant Thomas Jackson, on May 25, wrote to his sister of his “mortification of being left to garrison the town of Jalapa,” but he surmised that it was God’s way of “diminishing my excessive ambition.”3 Their stay there was of short duration, but for the time being, their presence was necessary to help keep the army’s lifeline to Veracruz open.
The road to Perote passed through some of the “most picturesque and romantic country” the men had seen as they gradually ascended higher into the Sierra Madres. Majestic peaks, cold mountain streams, and lush vegetation lined the route. Along the thirty-five-mile trek, the army marched through the Black Pass near the village of La Hoya, where, for over a mile, the road was tightly pressed between two mountains. The Americans knew this area as a location where guerrillas and bandits liked to attack, but Twiggs’s men only found several cannon spiked and abandoned at the site, and they passed on through the town. A few miles farther, they reached the village of Las Vigas, another place worthy of suspicion. Because of the steady climb into the mountains, many of Twiggs’s men fell behind, and the road became littered with discarded equipment. Although a few American soldiers were ambushed and killed along the way, the Mexicans offered no major resistance to Twiggs’s advance.4
Once through the mountain passes the ground became level at an altitude of almost 8,000 feet, and for the last few miles before reaching Perote, the men passed through handsomely cultivated fields of barley, corn, and wheat. The town itself was unimpressive, even a “dismal place,” wrote one soldier, “cold [and] disagreeable,” wrote another. The water seemed to be “impregnated with some mineral that renders it unpalatable.” “The town is small and like all Mexico going to rack,” thought one man. Americans, having grown accustomed to purchasing fruits and vegetables in the streets of other towns, described the markets of Perote as “very poor,” and this despite the abundant produce grown all around—perhaps an indication that here the Mexicans did not welcome the occupying troops. Gambling seemed to be a favorite occupation of the locals.5
The most impressive feature about Perote was its famous castle. Built by the Spaniards in the 1770s as a fortress to defend a major trade route, it had served primarily as a prison. In fact, Santa Anna had had Juan Morales and José Landero locked away in the castle for surrendering Veracruz, but they were released just before the Americans arrived. Made of dark lava rocks with sixty-foot-tall walls and a twenty-foot-deep moat around it, the castle looked ominous and sinister. The bastions of the fort could accommodate a hundred cannon. When American troops of General William Worth’s division had arrived there earlier, they found it, like all other Mexican fortifications after the Cerro Gordo debacle, deserted, with significant ordnance left behind. A lone Mexican colonel remained to surrender the town to the Americans. The abandoned matériel included more than sixty guns, including mortars and howitzers, 25,000 rounds of artillery ammunition, and hundreds of muskets. Had the enemy decided to stay and fight, thought Lieutenant John Wilkins of the Third Infantry, it would have taken a month to capture the fortress. The Americans converted it into a hospital.6
The first brigade of Worth’s division had first marched into Perote on April 22, and under orders from Scott, he began to evacuate the town and advance on Puebla on May 10. Quitman’s brigade followed a few days behind Worth, with Twiggs bringing up the rear. Although Scott had left Jalapa at the same time as Twiggs’s division, he and his escort rode ahead of the main body, arrived in Perote early, and left for Puebla on May 25, the day that Old Davy’s men arrived. When Scott departed Perote, Worth had been in Puebla for ten days. Just before Worth started for Puebla earlier in the month, he had used some of his infantry and dragoons to round up and punish local officials west of Perote who were trying to prevent citizens from selling provisions to the army. Artillery officer Robert Anderson approved the action. “Our paying the Mexicans liberally for what they bring will induce them to come, our punishing those who prevent them, will show them that we know and feel our strength, and that it will be exerted when necessity demands it.”7 That Anderson could make such a comment about knowing and feeling the strength of a small army in the middle of a hostile country is due entirely to the success of Scott’s plan to neutralize the population so that the outcome of the war would be decided by purely conventional means.
The eighty-mile march to Puebla took Worth’s men six days. They passed through several towns and villages along the way, none very impressive. Private William Johnson thought that in many locations, the large, ornate cathedrals cost more than the rest of the villages’ combined value. He also concluded that the inhabitants along the road to Puebla were generally “a miserable looking set.” Worth pushed his men hard. One soldier, remembering General Scott’s much publicized embarrassment of the previous year, wrote in his journal that one morning the men awoke and ate a “hasty plate of soup” before setting out. After a few grueling days of long marches, most of them were worn out, and many were sick with diarrhea and other afflictions. The main body had even left a few stragglers on the side of the road to die.8
Meanwhile, Santa Anna waited in Puebla determined to make another stand. After Cerro Gordo, he had fled south to Orizaba, where he began to patch together another army, and at about the time Worth was leaving Perote, Santa Anna arrived in Puebla with about 4,000 cavalry and infantry. He seized horses in the area, exacted money fr
om the citizens, and chastised the city authorities for not providing more stalwart support to help prosecute the war. Many of the residents were circulating Scott’s May 11 proclamation, which had either created or reinforced a discernible apathy among the residents. Some Pueblans, to escape Santa Anna’s heavy-handed authority, fled the city. The Mexican general knew that Worth’s lead brigade was but the head of a thinly spread American army that stretched back to Jalapa and beyond, and he had received reports that Quitman’s brigade, along with a heavy supply train, was twenty-five miles behind Worth, or a march of about a day and a half. When both brigades arrived in Puebla, Worth’s unified division would consist of 4,200 men, so Santa Anna decided to swing around the vanguard with his cavalry and strike at Quitman’s isolated and more lucrative column.9
Worth did not advance blindly. By various accounts, he was nervous and edgy during the time that his detached division was at the army’s forefront, but to his credit, he took wise precaution as he approached Puebla from the east. He knew that Santa Anna was there, and he suspected that his or Quitman’s column might be subject to an attack. So he slowed his pace to allow the second brigade and wagon train to close the gap, and on May 13, he stopped at Amozoc, about ten miles from Puebla, to bring his division together. That night, a couple of hours after midnight, the long roll beat, signaling the soldiers to stand under arms, and the men assumed that a battle was imminent. They watched and waited until daylight, but nothing happened.
However, later that morning, the warning sounded again, and this time Mexican lancers approached from the north. Worth sent portions of the Second Artillery and Sixth Infantry to confront them, but they avoided contact and moved off to the American right. They were trying to get around Worth’s men and get into position to advance on Quitman, but the Mexicans did not know that the gap between the two factions was, by this time, only about two or three miles. For their part, the Americans did not know that the enemy had another target in mind farther east, so as the lancers kept their distance and continued moving away from Amozoc, the Americans continued to follow in an effort to bring on a battle. Eventually, men of the Second Artillery got close enough to unlimber a battery and open fire, which caused the enemy to scatter. By this time, the Mexicans knew that the two portions of the U.S. Army were not as far apart as they previously thought and that surprise was out of the question. So they returned to Puebla and joined Santa Anna in a retreat to Mexico City. Thus ended the skirmish of Amozoc.10
Worth met with some of Puebla’s officials to make arrangements for the American occupation, and at 10 A.M. on May 15, his column entered the city. Men of the Fifth Infantry occupied two abandoned forts, Loreto and Guadalupe, that were situated on hills just north and east of town. Curiosity induced many of the town’s 80,000 residents to line the streets and pack balconies, windows, and rooftops to get a look at the North Americans as they marched in—these fearful, powerful warriors who had seized Veracruz and shattered the Mexican army at Cerro Gordo. The appearance of the weary, hungry, very average-looking men in their tattered and dusty uniforms must have fallen well short of their expectations. Some of the inhabitants looked on with angry faces as the troops filed through the streets and eventually packed into the plaza in the center of town. Once there, some of the soldiers simply laid down and went to sleep, while others stacked arms and began to roam about or purchase food in the street markets.11
Most of the inhabitants seemed resigned to the occupation. Few, if any, exhibited fear, and, although it would have been easy for such a large population to rise up and destroy the small occupying force, this did not occur. Hiram Yeager wondered how their small army could garrison such a densely populated city in the heart of enemy territory without fear of molestation. He speculated in a letter home that “if the Mexicans had the least drop of Native pride,” thousands of them would unite and crush the vulnerable Americans. Then he answered his own question by asserting that they do not oppose us because they “have found out that we are not the Sort of People that was represented to them.” They know that we are “not waring against their Religion nor do we want to interfere with their daily pursuits that all we wish is peace.” If this be an accurate assessment, then Scott’s pacification plan worked beautifully.12
Over the next few days, the troops settled into their new surroundings, and their letters and diaries indicate that most of them liked what they saw. To the Americans, Puebla looked more modern than Perote, Jalapa, and Veracruz. Its buildings were sturdy, the streets were paved and clean, and the houses appeared to be well kept, and some soldiers noted the unusual fact that they detected no foul odors as they explored the city. It was nicknamed the City of Angels because, according to lore, an angel had indicated to the founders where to build. There were gardens throughout the city, and colorful flowers adorned most of the houses. After some time in Puebla, Ralph Kirkham discovered that many of the residents were fond of birds and kept them in cages in their houses. He also concluded that “there is not a house or a room occupied by Mexicans in the city of Puebla which has not from one to twenty paintings and engravings,” all “on religious subjects.” James Fitzgerald wrote that “upon the whole I am delighted with Puebla, and it is the only place in Mexico that I would live in if I could.”13
Puebla is located on an extensive plain, and in the cultivated fields surrounding the city, fruit of every variety grew: oranges, pineapples, bananas, peaches, apples, figs, and more. As in other towns, the residents quickly learned that they could make money off the Americans, and so in the abundant markets, they sold eggs for twenty-five cents a dozen, tomatoes for $6 a bushel, and chickens for thirty-seven cents each. By the pound, they sold butter, coffee, rice, and salted beef for a dollar, twenty cents, eight cents, and thirteen cents, respectively. Some of the men took advantage of the favorable cantinas and eating establishments in the city, and on Sundays, many were drawn to the plaza, where they could buy everything from fruit and mint juleps to “the finest Ice Cream in the world.”14
While the soldiers praised the scenery and surroundings, they made few favorable comments about the people. There was a considerable number of “idelers and . . . rabble” who roamed the streets or loitered around the plazas and cathedrals. They were “filthy in the extreme,” and their dark complexion made it easy for everyone of European descent to consider them an “inferior race.” The troops were quick to conclude that the lower class dominated the population, and among that element, the women did most of the work. The Pueblans are “poor, miserable beings who are as ignorant and superstitious as it is possible to be,” wrote Lieutenant Ralph Kirkham. Another soldier, William Johnson, quickly surmised that they were “a miserable cut throat looking set—generaly.” After a few weeks in Puebla, Kirby Smith described the whole country in a letter home by writing that “everything is stamped by ignorance, vice, and misery.” A week later, he wrote with humor that “lying is so universal here that I am almost afraid I shall fall into the habit myself.” Robert E. Lee offered this opinion long before arriving in Puebla: “The Mexicans are an amiable but weak people. Primitive in their habits and tastes.”15
Several days into the occupation, curiosity turned to caution. There were nightly murders of Mexicans and Americans alike and constant rumors of planned attacks on the troops by the citizens. Worth wisely issued orders for his men to always be armed when they left their quarters, and he directed patrols to police the streets at night. He placed sentinels on top of buildings throughout the city and kept a third of his force on post at all times. However, just as he had during the march to the city, he seemed anxious and jittery—insecure is probably a better description—calling the men to arms on the slightest rumor. “Worth had the troops under arms the greater portion of the time constantly expecting an attack,” complained Lieutenant Theodore Laidley. “He is famous for getting up stampedes and [he exhibits] a want of confidence that a General should not.” His “constant fear . . . harasses . . . his troops.” The frequency of his false alar
ms led some of his men to refer to “Worth’s scarecrows.” Lieutenant Ulysses S. Grant believed it a part of the general’s personality to be “nervous, impatient and restless on the march, or when important or responsible duty confronted him.”16 Perhaps it was from that example, or from a comparison of the way Worth and Scott behaved under stress, that Grant learned to be calm and resolute in the face of danger.
On Friday, May 28, Scott galloped into Puebla escorted by two troops of Colonel William S. Harney’s cavalry. The Mounted Rifles rode into town first, followed by Captain Philip Kearny’s First Dragoons, all mounted on gray steeds. It was a splendid entry. As was customary, pomp and ceremony accompanied everything Scott did, but he could get away with it because he had both style and substance. The commanding general’s presence reduced the tension in the army, because, as historian Justin H. Smith put it, “a wiser mind and steadier hand now took charge.” Gone were the false alarms and phantom enemies that had plagued the men, for Scott’s experience told him not to believe every report about enemy movements. His presence in the city had a calming effect on the entire army.
The circumstances surrounding the commanding general’s arrival in the city is a case in point. Worth had received “positive information” that an enemy army of 20,000 was approaching to attack Puebla before nightfall. Furthermore, reports indicated that a general uprising in the city would accompany the attack. So Worth sent riders dashing off to the east to report to Scott who was known to be on his way. The couriers reached Scott three miles away and reported the alarming news. The general listened, then told the messenger to take the report to Colonel Harney, after which he calmly resumed his discussion with members of his staff. According to one of the troopers with Scott’s column, they continued to the city cautiously, only to find “the army and insurrection altogether creations of Worth’s imagination.” The story of Scott’s calm reaction made the rounds in the army, and although it was an insignificant anecdote, it precisely demonstrated the contrast with Worth’s behavior. It was while in Puebla that an army doctor supposedly overheard General Twiggs say that Scott was the greatest living general and that Taylor’s name “ought not to be mentioned in the same day with him.” Scott’s steady leadership, thorough planning, and masterful strategy had long since won over the skeptics who had transferred from Taylor’s army. Two weeks after his arrival in Puebla, artillery officer Robert Anderson concluded that with every battle and important movement, Scott “gains warm friends.”17
A Gallant Little Army Page 18