Personal Memoirs of U.S. Grant (Vol. 1)
by Ulysses S. Grant
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman

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, lie 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
cast. 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 ail, 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 commence-
ment of academic studies was very wearisome and uninter-
esting. 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 Is land, 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 cry ing, 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 do mestic 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 sug gested 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. 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 cast, 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 cast 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 Iying 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 Iying 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 Iying 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. From the 12th to the 14th we had but 15,000 men of
all arms and no gunboats. Now we had been reinforced by a fleet
of six naval vessels, a large division of troops under General L.
Wallace and 2,500 men brought over from Fort Henry belonging to
the division of C. F. Smith. The enemy, however, had taken the
initiative. Just as I landed I met Captain Hillyer of my staff,
white with fear, not for his personal safety, but for the safety
of the National troops. He said the enemy had come out of his
lines in full force and attacked and scattered McClernand's
division, which was in full retreat. The roads, as I have said,
were unfit for making fast time, but I got to my command as soon
as possible. The attack had been made on the National right. I
was some four or five miles north of our left. The line was
about three miles long. In reaching the point where the
disaster had occurred I had to pass the divisions of Smith and
Wallace. I saw no sign of excitement on the portion of the line
held by Smith; Wallace was nearer the scene of conflict and had
taken part in it. He had, at an opportune time, sent Thayer's
brigade to the support of McClernand and thereby contributed to
hold the enemy within his lines.

I saw everything favorable for us along the line of our left and
centre. When I came to the right appearances were different. The
enemy had come out in full force to cut his way out and make his
escape. McClernand's division had to bear the brunt of the
attack from this combined force. His men had stood up gallantly
until the ammunition in their cartridge-boxes gave out. There
was abundance of ammunition near by lying on the ground in
boxes, but at that stage of the war it was not all of our
commanders of regiments, brigades, or even divisions, who had
been educated up to the point of seeing that their men were
constantly supplied with ammunition during an engagement. When
the men found themselves without ammunition they could not stand
up against troops who seemed to have plenty of it. The division
broke and a portion fled, but most of the men, as they were not
pursued, only fell back out of range of the fire of the enemy.
It must have been about this time that Thayer pushed his brigade
in between the enemy and those of our troops that were without
ammunition. At all events the enemy fell back within his
intrenchments and was there when I got on the field.

I saw the men standing in knots talking in the most excited
manner. No officer seemed to be giving any directions. The
soldiers had their muskets, but no ammunition, while there were
tons of it close at hand. I heard some of the men say that the
enemy had come out with knapsacks, and haversacks filled with
rations. They seemed to think this indicated a determination on
his part to stay out and fight just as long as the provisions
held out. I turned to Colonel J. D. Webster, of my staff, who
was with me, and said: "Some of our men are pretty badly
demoralized, but the enemy must be more so, for he has attempted
to force his way out, but has fallen back: the one who attacks
first now will be victorious and the enemy will have to be in a
hurry if he gets ahead of me."  I determined to make the assault
at once on our left. It was clear to my mind that the enemy had
started to march out with his entire force, except a few
pickets, and if our attack could be made on the left before the
enemy could redistribute his forces along the line, we would
find but little opposition except from the intervening abatis.
I directed Colonel Webster to ride with me and call out to the
men as we passed: "Fill your cartridge-boxes, quick, and get
into line; the enemy is trying to escape and he must not be
permitted to do so."  This acted like a charm. The men only
wanted some one to give them a command. We rode rapidly to
Smith's quarters, when I explained the situation to him and
directed him to charge the enemy's works in his front with his
whole division, saying at the same time that he would find
nothing but a very thin line to contend with. The general was
off in an incredibly short time, going in advance himself to
keep his men from firing while they were working their way
through the abatis intervening between them and the enemy. The
outer line of rifle-pits was passed, and the night of the 15th
General Smith, with much of his division, bivouacked within the
lines of the enemy. There was now no doubt but that the
Confederates must surrender or be captured the next day.

There seems from subsequent accounts to have been much
consternation, particularly among the officers of high rank, in
Dover during the night of the 15th. General Floyd, the
commanding officer, who was a man of talent enough for any civil
position, was no soldier and, possibly, did not possess the
elements of one. He was further unfitted for command, for the
reason that his conscience must have troubled him and made him
afraid. As Secretary of War he had taken a solemn oath to
maintain the Constitution of the United States and to uphold the
same against all its enemies. He had betrayed that trust. As
Secretary of War he was reported through the northern press to
have scattered the little army the country had so that the most
of it could be picked up in detail when secession occurred.
About a year before leaving the Cabinet he had removed arms from
northern to southern arsenals. He continued in the Cabinet of
President Buchanan until about the 1st of January, 1861, while
he was working vigilantly for the establishment of a confederacy
made out of United States territory. Well may he have been
afraid to fall into the hands of National troops. He would no
doubt have been tried for misappropriating public property, if
not for treason, had he been captured. General Pillow, next in
command, was conceited, and prided himself much on his services
in the Mexican war. He telegraphed to General Johnston, at
Nashville, after our men were within the rebel rifle-pits, and
almost on the eve of his making his escape, that the Southern
troops had had great success all day. Johnston forwarded the
dispatch to Richmond. While the authorities at the capital were
reading it Floyd and Pillow were fugitives.

A council of war was held by the enemy at which all agreed that
it would be impossible to hold out longer. General Buckner, who
was third in rank in the garrison but much the most capable
soldier, seems to have regarded it a duty to hold the fort until
the general commanding the department, A. S. Johnston, should get
back to his headquarters at Nashville. Buckner's report shows,
however, that he considered Donelson lost and that any attempt
to hold the place longer would be at the sacrifice of the
command. Being assured that Johnston was already in Nashville,
Buckner too agreed that surrender was the proper thing. Floyd
turned over the command to Pillow, who declined it. It then
devolved upon Buckner, who accepted the responsibility of the
position. Floyd and Pillow took possession of all the river
transports at Dover and before morning both were on their way to
Nashville, with the brigade formerly commanded by Floyd and some
other troops, in all about 3,000. Some marched up the east bank
of the Cumberland; others went on the steamers. During the night
Forrest also, with his cavalry and some other troops about a
thousand in all, made their way out, passing between our right
and the river. They had to ford or swim over the back-water in
the little creek just south of Dover.

Before daylight General Smith brought to me the following letter
from General Buckner:

HEADQUARTERS, FORT DONELSON,
February 16, 1862.

SIR:--In consideration of all the circumstances governing the
present situation of affairs at this station, I propose to the
Commanding Officer of the Federal forces the appointment of
Commissioners to agree upon terms of capitulation of the forces
and fort under my command, and in that view suggest an armistice
until 12 o'clock to-day.

I am, sir, very respectfully,
Your ob't se'v't,
S. B. BUCKNER,
Brig. Gen. C. S. A.

To Brigadier-General U. S. Grant,
Com'ding U. S. Forces,
Near Fort Donelson.

To this I responded as follows:

HEADQUARTERS ARMY IN THE FIELD,
Camp near Donelson,
February 16, 1862.

General S. B. BUCKNER,
Confederate Army.

SIR:--Yours of this date, proposing armistice and appointment of
Commissioners to settle terms of capitulation, is just
received. No terms except an unconditional and immediate
surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon
your works.

I am, sir, very respectfully,
Your ob't se'v't,
U. S. GRANT,
Brig. Gen.

To this I received the following reply:

HEADQUARTERS, DOVER, TENNESSEE,
February 16, 1862.

To Brig. Gen'I U. S. GRANT,
U. S. Army.

SIR:--The distribution of the forces under my command, incident
to an unexpected change of commanders, and the overwhelming
force under your command, compel me, notwithstanding the
brilliant success of the Confederate arms yesterday, to accept
the ungenerous and unchivalrous terms which you propose.

I am, sir,
Your very ob't se'v't,
S. B. BUCKNER,
Brig. Gen. C. S. A.

General Buckner, as soon as he had dispatched the first of the
above letters, sent word to his different commanders on the line
of rifle-pits, notifying them that he had made a proposition
looking to the surrender of the garrison, and directing them to
notify National troops in their front so that all fighting might
be prevented. White flags were stuck at intervals along the line
of rifle-pits, but none over the fort. As soon as the last
letter from Buckner was received I mounted my horse and rode to
Dover. General Wallace, I found, had preceded me an hour or
more. I presume that, seeing white flags exposed in his front,
he rode up to see what they meant and, not being fired upon or
halted, he kept on until he found himself at the headquarters of
General Buckner.

I had been at West Point three years with Buckner and afterwards
served with him in the army, so that we were quite well
acquainted. In the course of our conversation, which was very
friendly, he said to me that if he had been in command I would
not have got up to Donelson as easily as I did. I told him that
if he had been in command I should not have tried in the way I
did: I had invested their lines with a smaller force than they
had to defend them, and at the same time had sent a brigade full
5,000 strong, around by water; I had relied very much upon their
commander to allow me to come safely up to the outside of their
works. I asked General Buckner about what force he had to
surrender. He replied that he could not tell with any degree of
accuracy; that all the sick and weak had been sent to Nashville
while we were about Fort Henry; that Floyd and Pillow had left
during the night, taking many men with them; and that Forrest,
and probably others, had also escaped during the preceding
night: the number of casualties he could not tell; but he said
I would not find fewer than 12,000, nor more than 15,000.

He asked permission to send parties outside of the lines to bury
his dead, who had fallen on the 15th when they tried to get
out. I gave directions that his permit to pass our limits
should be recognized. I have no reason to believe that this
privilege was abused, but it familiarized our guards so much
with the sight of Confederates passing to and fro that I have no
doubt many got beyond our pickets unobserved and went on. The
most of the men who went in that way no doubt thought they had
had war enough, and left with the intention of remaining out of
the army. Some came to me and asked permission to go, saying
that they were tired of the war and would not be caught in the
ranks again, and I bade them go.

The actual number of Confederates at Fort Donelson can never be
given with entire accuracy. The largest number admitted by any
writer on the Southern side, is by Colonel Preston Johnston. He
gives the number at 17,000. But this must be an underestimate.
The commissary general of prisoners reported having issued
rations to 14,623 Fort Donelson prisoners at Cairo, as they
passed that point. General Pillow reported the killed and
wounded at 2,000; but he had less opportunity of knowing the
actual numbers than the officers of McClernand's division, for
most of the killed and wounded fell outside their works, in
front of that division, and were buried or cared for by Buckner
after the surrender and when Pillow was a fugitive. It is known
that Floyd and Pillow escaped during the night of the 15th,
taking with them not less than 3,000 men. Forrest escaped with
about 1,000 and others were leaving singly and in squads all
night. It is probable that the Confederate force at Donelson,
on the 15th of February, 1862, was 21,000 in round numbers.

On the day Fort Donelson fell I had 27,000 men to confront the
Confederate lines and guard the road four or five miles to the
left, over which all our supplies had to be drawn on wagons.
During the 16th, after the surrender, additional reinforcements
arrived.

During the siege General Sherman had been sent to Smithland, at
the mouth of the Cumberland River, to forward reinforcements and
supplies to me. At that time he was my senior in rank and there
was no authority of law to assign a junior to command a senior
of the same grade. But every boat that came up with supplies or
reinforcements brought a note of encouragement from Sherman,
asking me to call upon him for any assistance he could render
and saying that if he could be of service at the front I might
send for him and he would waive rank.

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.

The news of the fall of Fort Donelson caused great delight all
over the North. At the South, particularly in Richmond, the
effect was correspondingly depressing. I was promptly promoted
to the grade of Major-General of Volunteers, and confirmed by
the Senate. All three of my division commanders were promoted
to the same grade and the colonels who commanded brigades were
made brigadier-generals in the volunteer service. My chief, who
was in St. Louis, telegraphed his congratulations to General
Hunter in Kansas for the services he had rendered in securing
the fall of Fort Donelson by sending reinforcements so
rapidly. To Washington he telegraphed that the victory was due
to General C. F. Smith; "promote him," he said, "and the whole
country will applaud."  On the 19th there was published at St.
Louis a formal order thanking Flag-officer Foote and myself, and
the forces under our command, for the victories on the Tennessee
and the Cumberland. I received no other recognition whatever
from General Halleck. But General Cullum, his chief of staff,
who was at Cairo, wrote me a warm congratulatory letter on his
own behalf. I approved of General Smith's promotion highly, as
I did all the promotions that were made.

My opinion was and still is that immediately after the fall of
Fort Donelson the way was opened to the National forces all over
the South-west without much resistance. If one general who would
have taken the responsibility had been in command of all the
troops west of the Alleghanies, he could have marched to
Chattanooga, Corinth, Memphis and Vicksburg with the troops we
then had, and as volunteering was going on rapidly over the
North there would soon have been force enough at all these
centres to operate offensively against any body of the enemy
that might be found near them. Rapid movements and the
acquisition of rebellious territory would have promoted
volunteering, so that reinforcements could have been had as fast
as transportation could have been obtained to carry them to their
destination. On the other hand there were tens of thousands of
strong able-bodied young men still at their homes in the
South-western States, who had not gone into the Confederate army
in February, 1862, and who had no particular desire to go. If
our lines had been extended to protect their homes, many of them
never would have gone. Providence ruled differently. Time was
given the enemy to collect armies and fortify his new positions;
and twice afterwards he came near forcing his north-western front
up to the Ohio River.

I promptly informed the department commander of our success at
Fort Donelson and that the way was open now to Clarksville and
Nashville; and that unless I received orders to the contrary I
should take Clarksville on the 21st and Nashville about the 1st
of March. Both these places are on the Cumberland River above
Fort Donelson. As I heard nothing from headquarters on the
subject, General C. F. Smith was sent to Clarksville at the time
designated and found the place evacuated. The capture of forts
Henry and Donelson had broken the line the enemy had taken from
Columbus to Bowling Green, and it was known that he was falling
back from the eastern point of this line and that Buell was
following, or at least advancing. I should have sent troops to
Nashville at the time I sent to Clarksville, but my
transportation was limited and there were many prisoners to be
forwarded north.

None of the reinforcements from Buell's army arrived until the
24th of February. Then General Nelson came up, with orders to
report to me with two brigades, he having sent one brigade to
Cairo. I knew General Buell was advancing on Nashville from the
north, and I was advised by scouts that the rebels were leaving
that place, and trying to get out all the supplies they could.
Nashville was, at that time, one of the best provisioned posts
in the South. I had no use for reinforcements now, and thinking
Buell would like to have his troops again, I ordered Nelson to
proceed to Nashville without debarking at Fort Donelson. I sent
a gunboat also as a convoy. The Cumberland River was very high
at the time; the railroad bridge at Nashville had been burned,
and all river craft had been destroyed, or would be before the
enemy left. Nashville is on the west bank of the Cumberland,
and Buell was approaching from the east. I thought the steamers
carrying Nelson's division would be useful in ferrying the
balance of Buell's forces across. I ordered Nelson to put
himself in communication with Buell as soon as possible, and if
he found him more than two days off from Nashville to return
below the city and await orders. Buell, however, had already
arrived in person at Edgefield, opposite Nashville, and
Mitchell's division of his command reached there the same day.
Nelson immediately took possession of the city.

After Nelson had gone and before I had learned of Buell's
arrival, I sent word to department headquarters that I should go
to Nashville myself on the 28th if I received no orders to the
contrary. Hearing nothing, I went as I had informed my superior
officer I would do. On arriving at Clarksville I saw a fleet of
steamers at the shore--the same that had taken Nelson's
division--and troops going aboard. I landed and called on the
commanding officer, General C. F. Smith. As soon as he saw me
he showed an order he had just received from Buell in these
words:

NASHVILLE, February 25, 1862.

GENERAL C. F. SMITH,
Commanding U. S. Forces, Clarksville.

GENERAL:--The landing of a portion of our troops, contrary to my
intentions, on the south side of the river has compelled me to
hold this side at every hazard. If the enemy should assume the
offensive, and I am assured by reliable persons that in view of
my position such is his intention, my force present is
altogether inadequate, consisting of only 15,000 men. I have to
request you, therefore, to come forward with all the available
force under your command. So important do I consider the
occasion that I think it necessary to give this communication
all the force of orders, and I send four boats, the Diana,
Woodford, John Rain, and Autocrat, to bring you up. In five or
six days my force will probably be sufficient to relieve you.

Very respectfully, your ob't srv't,
D. C. BUELL,
Brigadier-General Comd'g.

P. S.--The steamers will leave here at 12 o'clock to-night.

General Smith said this order was nonsense. But I told him it
was better to obey it. The General replied, "of course I must
obey," and said his men were embarking as fast as they could. I
went on up to Nashville and inspected the position taken by
Nelson's troops. I did not see Buell during the day, and wrote
him a note saying that I had been in Nashville since early
morning and had hoped to meet him. On my return to the boat we
met. His troops were still east of the river, and the steamers
that had carried Nelson's division up were mostly at Clarksville
to bring Smith's division. I said to General Buell my
information was that the enemy was retreating as fast as
possible. General Buell said there was fighting going on then
only ten or twelve miles away. I said: "Quite probably;
Nashville contained valuable stores of arms, ammunition and
provisions, and the enemy is probably trying to carry away all
he can. The fighting is doubtless with the rear-guard who are
trying to protect the trains they are getting away with."  Buell
spoke very positively of the danger Nashville was in of an attack
from the enemy. I said, in the absence of positive information,
I believed my information was correct. He responded that he
"knew."  "Well," I said, "I do not know; but as I came by
Clarksville General Smith's troops were embarking to join you."

Smith's troops were returned the same day. The enemy were
trying to get away from Nashville and not to return to it.

At this time General Albert Sidney Johnston commanded all the
Confederate troops west of the Alleghany Mountains, with the
exception of those in the extreme south. On the National side
the forces confronting him were divided into, at first three,
then four separate departments. Johnston had greatly the
advantage in having supreme command over all troops that could
possibly be brought to bear upon one point, while the forces
similarly situated on the National side, divided into
independent commands, could not be brought into harmonious
action except by orders from Washington.

At the beginning of 1862 Johnston's troops east of the
Mississippi occupied a line extending from Columbus, on his
left, to Mill Springs, on his right. As we have seen, Columbus,
both banks of the Tennessee River, the west bank of the
Cumberland and Bowling Green, all were strongly fortified. Mill
Springs was intrenched. The National troops occupied no
territory south of the Ohio, except three small garrisons along
its bank and a force thrown out from Louisville to confront that
at Bowling Green. Johnston's strength was no doubt numerically
inferior to that of the National troops; but this was
compensated for by the advantage of being sole commander of all
the Confederate forces at the West, and of operating in a
country where his friends would take care of his rear without
any detail of soldiers. But when General George H. Thomas moved
upon the enemy at Mill Springs and totally routed him, inflicting
a loss of some 300 killed and wounded, and forts Henry and Heiman
fell into the hands of the National forces, with their armaments
and about 100 prisoners, those losses seemed to dishearten the
Confederate commander so much that he immediately commenced a
retreat from Bowling Green on Nashville. He reached this latter
place on the 14th of February, while Donelson was still
besieged. Buell followed with a portion of the Army of the
Ohio, but he had to march and did not reach the east bank of the
Cumberland opposite Nashville until the 24th of the month, and
then with only one division of his army.

The bridge at Nashville had been destroyed and all boats removed
or disabled, so that a small garrison could have held the place
against any National troops that could have been brought against
it within ten days after the arrival of the force from Bowling
Green. Johnston seemed to lie quietly at Nashville to await the
result at Fort Donelson, on which he had staked the possession of
most of the territory embraced in the States of Kentucky and
Tennessee. It is true, the two generals senior in rank at Fort
Donelson were sending him encouraging dispatches, even claiming
great Confederate victories up to the night of the 16th when
they must have been preparing for their individual escape.
Johnston made a fatal mistake in intrusting so important a
command to Floyd, who he must have known was no soldier even if
he possessed the elements of one. Pillow's presence as second
was also a mistake. If these officers had been forced upon him
and designated for that particular command, then he should have
left Nashville with a small garrison under a trusty officer, and
with the remainder of his force gone to Donelson himself. If he
had been captured the result could not have been worse than it
was.

Johnston's heart failed him upon the first advance of National
troops. He wrote to Richmond on the 8th of February, "I think
the gunboats of the enemy will probably take Fort Donelson
without the necessity of employing their land force in
cooperation."  After the fall of that place he abandoned
Nashville and Chattanooga without an effort to save either, and
fell back into northern Mississippi, where, six weeks later, he
was destined to end his career.

From the time of leaving Cairo I was singularly unfortunate in
not receiving dispatches from General Halleck. The order of the
10th of February directing me to fortify Fort Henry strongly,
particularly to the land side, and saying that intrenching tools
had been sent for that purpose, reached me after Donelson was
invested. I received nothing direct which indicated that the
department commander knew we were in possession of Donelson. I
was reporting regularly to the chief of staff, who had been sent
to Cairo, soon after the troops left there, to receive all
reports from the front and to telegraph the substance to the St.
Louis headquarters. Cairo was at the southern end of the
telegraph wire. Another line was started at once from Cairo to
Paducah and Smithland, at the mouths of the Tennessee and
Cumberland respectively. My dispatches were all sent to Cairo
by boat, but many of those addressed to me were sent to the
operator at the end of the advancing wire and he failed to
forward them. This operator afterwards proved to be a rebel; he
deserted his post after a short time and went south taking his
dispatches with him. A telegram from General McClellan to me of
February 16th, the day of the surrender, directing me to report
in full the situation, was not received at my headquarters until
the 3d of March.

On the 2d of March I received orders dated March 1st to move my
command back to Fort Henry, leaving only a small garrison at
Donelson. From Fort Henry expeditions were to be sent against
Eastport, Mississippi, and Paris, Tennessee. We started from
Donelson on the 4th, and the same day I was back on the
Tennessee River. On March 4th I also received the following
dispatch from General Halleck:

MAJ.-GEN. U. S. GRANT,
Fort Henry:

You will place Maj.-Gen. C. F. Smith in command of expedition,
and remain yourself at Fort Henry. Why do you not obey my
orders to report strength and positions of your command?

H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General.

I was surprised. This was the first intimation I had received
that General Halleck had called for information as to the
strength of my command. On the 6th he wrote to me again. "Your
going to Nashville without authority, and when your presence with
your troops was of the utmost importance, was a matter of very
serious complaint at Washington, so much so that I was advised
to arrest you on your return."  This was the first I knew of his
objecting to my going to Nashville. That place was not beyond
the limits of my command, which, it had been expressly declared
in orders, were "not defined."  Nashville is west of the
Cumberland River, and I had sent troops that had reported to me
for duty to occupy the place. I turned over the command as
directed and then replied to General Halleck courteously, but
asked to be relieved from further duty under him.

Later I learned that General Halleck had been calling lustily
for more troops, promising that he would do something important
if he could only be sufficiently reinforced. McClellan asked
him what force he then had. Halleck telegraphed me to supply
the information so far as my command was concerned, but I
received none of his dispatches. At last Halleck reported to
Washington that he had repeatedly ordered me to give the
strength of my force, but could get nothing out of me; that I
had gone to Nashville, beyond the limits of my command, without
his authority, and that my army was more demoralized by victory
than the army at Bull Run had been by defeat. General
McClellan, on this information, ordered that I should be
relieved from duty and that an investigation should be made into
any charges against me. He even authorized my arrest. Thus in
less than two weeks after the victory at Donelson, the two
leading generals in the army were in correspondence as to what
disposition should be made of me, and in less than three weeks I
was virtually in arrest and without a command.