[Illustration: (From a daguerreotype taken in 1846, just before
leaving for the front)

LIEUT. MCCLELLAN, HIS FATHER AND HIS BROTHER ARTHUR.]




  THE MEXICAN WAR DIARY
  OF GEORGE B. McCLELLAN

  EDITED BY

  WILLIAM STARR MYERS, Ph.D.,

  ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AND POLITICS
  PRINCETON UNIVERSITY

  PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS
  PRINCETON

  LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD
  OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
  1917




  Copyright, 1917, by
  PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

  Published April, 1917

  [Illustration]




PREFACE


During the past four or five years I have been preparing a life of
General McClellan in which I plan especially to stress the political
influences behind the military operations of the first two years of the
Civil War. The main source for my study has been the large collection
of “McClellan Papers” in the Library of Congress at Washington, most
of which hitherto never has been published. In this collection is the
manuscript Mexican War diary and by the courteous permission and kind
cooperation of General McClellan’s son, Professor George B. McClellan
of Princeton University, I have been able to make the following copy. I
desire to thank Professor McClellan for other valuable help, including
the use of the daguerreotype from which the accompanying frontispiece
was made. My thanks also are due Professor Dana C. Munro for his timely
advice and valued assistance in the preparation of the manuscript for
the press. The map is reproduced from the “Life and Letters of General
George Gordon Meade,” with the kind permission of the publishers,
Charles Scribner’s Sons.

It has seemed to me that this diary should prove to be of special value
at the present time, for it throws additional light upon the failure of
our time honored “volunteer system” and forecasts its utter futility as
an adequate defense in a time of national crisis or danger.

                                                        WM. STARR MYERS.

  Princeton, N. J.
  January 3, 1917.




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  Lieut. McClellan, His Father and His Brother Arthur
    From a daguerreotype taken in 1846, just before
    leaving for the front                                 _Frontispiece_

  War Map                                                      opp. p. 6

  First Page of the Mexican War Diary in an Old Blankbook
    Facsimile reproduction of McClellan’s manuscript          opp. p. 40

  Church at Camargo, Seen from the Palace
    Facsimile reproduction of a sketch by McClellan           opp. p. 70




INTRODUCTION


George Brinton McClellan was born in Philadelphia, Pa., on December 3,
1826. He died in Orange, N. J., on October 29, 1885. His life covered
barely fifty-nine years, his services of national prominence only
eighteen months, but during this time he experienced such extremes of
good and ill fortune, of success and of failure, as seldom have fallen
to the lot of one man.

While still a small boy McClellan entered a school in Philadelphia
which was conducted by Mr. Sears Cook Walker, a graduate of Harvard,
and remained there for four years. He later was a pupil in the
preparatory school of the University of Pennsylvania, under the charge
of Dr. Samuel Crawford. McClellan at the same time received private
tuition in Greek and Latin from a German teacher named Scheffer and
entered the University itself in 1840. He remained there as a student
for only two years, for in 1842 he received an appointment to the
United States Military Academy at West Point.

McClellan graduated from West Point second in his class in the summer
of 1846 and was commissioned a brevet second lieutenant of engineers.
On July 9 Colonel Joseph G. Totten, Chief of Engineers, ordered
McClellan to “repair to West Point” for duty with the company of
engineers then being organized by Captain A. J. Swift and Lieutenant
Gustavus W. Smith. The Mexican War had begun during the preceding May
and the young graduate of West Point was filled with delight at the new
opportunity for winning reputation and rank in his chosen profession.
The company of engineers was ordered to Mexico and left for the front
during the month of September.

The diary that follows begins with the departure from West Point and
continues the narrative of McClellan’s experiences through the battle
of Cerro Gordo in April, 1847. It ends at this point, except for a line
or two jotted down later on in moments of impatience or ennui.

To the student of McClellan’s life this diary presents certain striking
contrasts in character between the youthful soldier, not yet twenty
years of age, and the general or politician of fifteen or twenty years
later. At this time McClellan was by nature happy-go-lucky, joyous,
carefree, and almost irresponsible. In after years he became extremely
serious, deeply and sincerely religious, sometimes oppressed by a
sense of duty. And yet at this early age we can plainly discern many
of the traits that stand out so prominently in his mature life. He was
in a way one of the worst subordinates and best superiors that ever
lived. As a subordinate he was restless, critical, often ill at ease.
He seemed to have the proverbial “chip” always on his shoulder and
knew that his commanding officers would go out of their way to knock
it off; or else he imagined it, which amounted to the same thing. As
a commanding officer he always was thoughtful, considerate and deeply
sympathetic with his men, and they knew this and loved him for it.

These same traits perhaps will explain much of the friction during the
early years of the Civil War between McClellan and Lincoln and also the
devotion that reached almost to adoration which the soldiers of the
Army of the Potomac showed for their beloved commander. And McClellan
had many intimate friends, friends of high character, who stood by
him through thick and thin until the very day of his death. This
relationship could not have continued strong to the last had he not in
some measure deserved it. His integrity, his inherent truthfulness and
sense of honor, stood out predominant.

McClellan could write. In fact his pen was too ready and in later years
it often led him into difficulties. He had a keen sense of humor,
though it was tempered by too much self-confidence and at times was
tinged with conceit. He was proud, ambitious and deeply sensitive. All
this appears in the diary, and it will be seen that this little book
offers a key to the explanation of much that followed.

McClellan took a prominent and brilliant part, for so young a man, in
the later events of Scott’s campaign which ended in the capture of
the City of Mexico. He showed himself to be able, brave and extremely
skilful. He was promoted to the rank of brevet first lieutenant, August
20, “for gallant and meritorious conduct in the battles of Contreras
and Cherubusco,” and brevet captain on September 13 for his services
at Chapultepec. He was brevetted in addition for Molino del Rey on
September 8, and the nomination was confirmed by Congress, but he
declined the honor on the ground that he had not taken part in that
battle, while this brevet “would also cause him to rank above his
commanding officer--Lieut. G. W. Smith--who was present at every action
where he was and commanded him.” (Ms. letter from McClellan to General
R. Jones, Adj. Gen. U. S. A., dated “Washington City, August 1848.”
_McClellan Papers_, Library of Congress, Vol. I.)

The diary gives a vivid picture of Mexico, the land and its people.
Furthermore, there is a fine description of the life of the soldiers on
the march, of the siege of Vera Cruz, and of the ill behavior and lack
of discipline of the volunteer forces. The notes will show that General
George Gordon Meade, later the Union commander at Gettysburg, also
was a lieutenant in Taylor’s army, and his estimate of the volunteers
agrees in every particular with that mentioned above.

McClellan’s career has been the subject of endless controversy, often
pursued with such acrimony and gross unfairness that its memory
rankles today in the minds of many. Furthermore, upon the outcome
of this controversy have depended the reputations of many prominent
men, for if McClellan should be proved to have been in the wrong the
mantle of greatness still might rest upon the shoulders of certain
politicians and generals hitherto adjudged to be “great.” On the other
hand, if McClellan was in the right, and the present writer believes
that in large part he was, then he was a victim of envy and downright
falsehood. His name should now be cleared of all unjust accusations,
and also history should reverse its judgment of many of his opponents.

                                                      WM. STARR MYERS.




[Illustration: PARTS OF TEXAS & MEXICO COVERING THE SEAT OF THE WAR IN
                 MEXICO]




MEXICAN WAR DIARY OF GEORGE B. McCLELLAN

1846-1847


We left West Point on the 24th of September 1846 for General Taylor’s
army in Mexico--Company “A” Engineers[1] consisted of Captain [A.
J.] Swift, Lieutenant G. W. Smith,[2] myself and 71 rank and file.
On Saturday the 26th we sailed from the Narrows bound to Brazos de
Santiago [Texas] where we were so fortunate as to arrive in 14 days. We
had a very pleasant passage, on the whole. Felt very much the want of
_ice_, and _claret_. At one time could only eat raw tomatoes.

The result of my experience with respect to the transportation of
troops by sea is,--

In the first place see that the part of the vessel destined to receive
them is thoroughly policed, washed and well scraped out before the
vessel sails; then let a strong police party be detailed every day,
so that the part between decks may always be well washed out and
smell well. Wind-sails are very necessary. The acting commissary of
subsistence should see for himself exactly what is put on board for
the use of the troops and should cause a written requisition to be
made upon him for the quantity used from day to day or week to week.
He should have a reliable and intelligent sergeant at his disposal.
Care should be taken that good cooking arrangements are provided. Mush
appeared to be a favorite and agreeable food for the men at sea. The
muskets should be inspected every day, when the weather permits, as
also the quarters. Men must be required to wear their worst clothes
(working overalls, etc.) on board. Care should be taken that camp
equipage and all articles necessary for immediate use of troops when
landed are so stowed that they can be got at at once.

Brazos is probably the very worst port that could be found on the
whole American coast. We are encamped on an island which is nothing
more than a sand bar, perfectly barren, utterly destitute of any sign
of vegetation. It is about six miles long and one-half mile broad. We
are placed about one hundred yards from the sea, a row of sand hills
some twenty feet high intervening. Whenever a strong breeze blows
the sand flies along in perfect clouds, filling your tent, eyes and
everything else. To dry ink you have merely to dip your paper in the
sand. The only good thing about the place is the bathing in the surf.
The water which we drink is obtained by digging a hole large enough to
contain a barrel. In this is placed a bottomless barrel in which the
water collects. You must dig until you find water, then “work-in” the
barrel until it is well down. This water is very bad. It is brackish
and unhealthy. The island is often overflowed to the depth of one or
two feet. To reach this interesting spot, one is taken from the vessel
in a steamboat and taken over a bar on which the water is six feet
deep, and where the surf breaks with the greatest violence. It is often
impossible to communicate with the vessels outside for ten days or two
weeks at a time.

We have been here since Monday afternoon and it is now Friday. We
expect to march for the mouth of the Rio Grande tomorrow morning at
break of day--thence by steamboat to Matamoros where we will remain
until our arrangements for the pontoon train are complete. We received
when we arrived the news of the battle of Monterey. Three officers who
were present dined with us today--Nichols of the 2nd Artillery, Captain
Smith (brother of G. W. Smith) formerly Captain of Louisiana Volunteers
now an amateur, Captain Crump of the Mississippi Volunteers--fine
fellows all. Saw Bailie Peyton and some others pass our encampment this
morning from Monterey. I am now writing in the guard tent (I go on
guard every other day). Immediately in front are sand hills, same on
the right, same in the rear, sandy plain on the left. To the left of
the sand hills in front are a number of wagons parked, to the left of
them a pound containing about 200 mules, to the left and in front of
that about fifty sloops, schooners, brigs and steamboats; to the left
of that and three miles from us may be seen Point Isabel.

Camp opposite Camargo,[3] November 15th, 1846. We marched from Brazos
to the mouth of the Rio Grande and on arriving there found ourselves
without tents, provisions or working utensils, a cold Norther blowing
all the time. We, however, procured what we needed from the Quarter
Master and made the men comfortable until the arrival of Captain Swift
with the wagons, who reached the mouth late in the afternoon, whilst we
got there about 10 A. M. Thanks to Churchill’s kindness G. W. Smith and
myself got along very well. We left in the Corvette the next morning
(Sunday) for Matamoros, where we arrived at about 5 P. M. The Rio
Grande is a very narrow, muddy stream. The channel is very uncertain,
changing from day to day. The banks are covered with the mesquite
trees, canes, cabbage trees, etc. The ranches are rather sparse, but
some of them are very prettily situated. They all consist of miserable
huts built of mesquite logs and canes placed upright--the interstices
filled with mud. The roofs are thatched, either with canes or the
leaves of the cabbage tree (a species of palmetto). Cotton appears to
grow quite plentifully on the banks, but is not cultivated at all. The
Mexicans appear to cultivate nothing whatever but a little Indian corn
(maize). They are certainly the laziest people in existence--living in
a rich and fertile country (the banks of the river at least) they are
content to roll in the mud, eat their horrible beef and tortillas and
dance all night at their fandangos. This appears to be the character of
the Mexicans as far as I have seen, but they will probably improve as
we proceed further in the country.

Matamoros is situated about a quarter mile from the river. Some of
the houses on the principal streets are of stone, there is one near
the Plaza built in the American style with three stories and garrets.
All the rest are regular Mexican. On the Plaza is an unfinished
cathedral, commenced on a grand scale, but unfinished from a want
of funds. The great majority of the houses are of log. The place is
quite Americanized by our army and the usual train of sutlers, etc.,
etc.,--you can get almost everything you want there. We were encamped
near the landing. I rode over to Resaca and Palo Alto, but as there
is just now a prospect of our returning to Matamoros, before moving
on Tampico, I shall write no description of the fields until I have
visited them again. After being sick for nearly two weeks in Matamoros
I left with the company for Camargo on the “Whiteville,” where we
arrived two weeks ago tomorrow, and I have been in Hospital Quarters
ever since until day before yesterday.[4]

Now I am in camp, the wind blowing the dust in such perfect clouds
that it is perfectly horrible--one can hardly live through it. My
quarters in Camargo were the _Palace_ of Don Jesus, the brother of the
Alcalde [Mayor of the town]--he (the Don) having absquatatated [sic].
The main body of the _Palace_ (!) is one storied. It consists of two
rooms--the smaller one occupied by Dr. Turner, the other by “Legs”
and myself (together with Jimmie Stuart for a part of the time). The
floor is of hard earth, the walls white, and very fancifully decorated
with paintings--the roof flat and painted green--an inscription on it
showing that “Se acabó [This house was finished] esta casa _entiaso_
[this word is not Spanish] Dio[s] &c. &c. 1829.” Altogether it was
quite a recherché establishment. Jimmie Stuart came down to take
care of me when I first got there, and after doing so with his usual
kindness was unfortunately taken with a fever, and had to stay there
anyhow.[5]

We are to accompany General Patterson[6] to Tampico. I hope and suppose
that we will have a fight there, then join General Taylor, _then_ hey
for San Luis [Potosi] and another fight.

December 5th [1846]. Mouth of the Rio Grande. After getting up quite an
excitement about a fight at Tampico etc., we were completely floored
by the news that the navy had _taken_ it without firing a single
gun[7]--the place having been abandoned by the Mexican troops, who
are doubtless being concentrated at San Luis Potosi in anticipation
of a grand attack on the place--ah! if we only fool them by taking
Vera Cruz and its castle, and then march on the capital--we would have
them completely. After a great many orders and counter orders we have
at length arrived thus far on our way to Tampico. We left Camargo on
Sunday evening last (November 29th) in the corvette, with Generals
Patterson and Pillow[8] and a number of other officers (among them
Captain Hunter 2nd Dragoons, Major Abercrombie, Captain Winship, Seth
Williams,[9] and about a thousand volunteers). We had decidedly a bad
passage--running on sand bars very often--being blown up against a bank
by the wind--breaking the rudder twice, etc., etc. We left General
P[atterson], Captain Swift and many others at Matamoros. The General
started with the intention of going to Tampico by sea--all the troops
(except the Tennessee cavalry) were to go by sea, but at Reinosa an
express overtook us ordering the General to proceed by land with all
the troops except this company, which _is_ to go by sea (!). Captain
Swift remained at Matamoros on account of his health.

I was perfectly disgusted coming down the river. I found that every
confounded Voluntario in the “Continental Army” ranked me--to be ranked
and put aside for a soldier of yesterday, a miserable thing with
buttons on it, that knows nothing whatever, is indeed too hard a case.
I have pretty much made up my mind that if I cannot increase my _rank_
in this war, I shall resign shortly after the close of it. I cannot
stand the idea of being a Second Lieutenant all my life. I have learned
some valuable lessons in this war. I am (I hope and believe) pretty
well cured of castle building. I came down here with high hopes, with
pleasing anticipations of distinction, of being in hard fought battles
and acquiring a name and reputation as a stepping stone to a still
greater eminence in some future and greater war. I felt that if I could
have a chance I could do _something_; but what has been the result--the
real state of the case? The first thing that greeted my ears upon
arriving off Brazos was the news of the battle of Monterey[10]--the
place of all others where this Company and its officers would have had
an ample field for distinction. There was a grand miss, but, thank
heaven, it could not possibly have been avoided by us. Well, since
then we have been dodging about--waiting a week here--two weeks there
for the pontoon train--a month in the dirt somewhere else--doing
nothing--half the company sick--have been sick myself for more than a
month and a half--and here we are going to Tampico. What will be the
next thing it is impossible to guess at. We _may_ go to San Luis--we
_may_ go to Vera Cruz--we _may_ go home from Tampico, we _may_ see
a fight, or a dozen of them--_or_ we may not see a shot fired. I
have made up my mind to act the philosopher--to take things as they
come and not worry my head about the future--to try to get perfectly
well--and above all things to see as much _fun_ as I can “scare up” in
the country.

I have seen more suffering since I came out here than I could have
imagined to exist. It is really awful. I allude to the sufferings of
the Volunteers. They literally die like dogs. Were it all known in
the States, there would be no more hue and cry against the Army, all
would be willing to have so large a regular army that we could dispense
entirely with the volunteer system. The suffering among the Regulars
is comparatively trifling, for their officers know their duty and take
good care of the men.[11]

I have also come to the conclusion that the Quartermaster’s Department
is most wofully conducted--never trust anything to that Department
which you can do for yourself. If you need horses for your trains,
etc., carry them with you. As to provisions (for private use) get as
much as possible from the Commissaries--you get things from them
at one-half the price you pay sutlers. Smith has ridden over to
Brazos de Santiago to endeavor to make arrangements for our immediate
transportation to Tampico. Captain Hunter went with him on my mare.
They return in the morning. Whilst at Camargo, Smith had a discussion
with General Patterson about his (General Patterson’s) right to order
us when en route to join General Taylor, under orders from Head
Quarters at Washington. The General was obliged to succumb and admit
the truth of the principle “That an officer of Engineers is not subject
to the orders of every superior officer, but only to those of his
immediate chief, and that General (or other high officer) to whom he
may be ordered to report for duty.”

There goes Gerber with his tattoo--so I must stop for the present.

December 6th [1846]. Go it Weathercocks! Received an order from Major
McCall[12] this morning to go back to Matamoros, as we are to _march_
to Tampico, via Victoria, with the column under General Patterson.[13]
Smith is away at Brazos and if the order had been one day and a half
later we would have been off to Tampico by sea. Have fine sea bathing
here. It is blowing very hard from the south east, so much so as to
raise the sand too much for comfort entirely. Bee and Ward at the
Brazos--coming over this morning--will at least have an opportunity of
giving Georgie that letter of Madame Scott’s! I feel pleased at the
idea of going by land--we will have a march to talk about, and may very
probably have a fight on the way. I firmly believe that we will have
a brush before reaching Tampico. Unfortunately the whole column is
Voluntario.

January 2nd, 1847. Rancho Padillo, on Soto la Marina river. I
“firmly believed” we would have a brush!--the devil I did!--and a
pretty fool I was to think I’d have such good luck as that. I’ve
given it up entirely. But I was right in the other--the whole column
_is_ Voluntario--and a pretty column it is too. To go on with our
affairs.--We reached Matamoros on the 8th [December] and encamped on
the river bank just below the Mexican batteries. Smith went down to
the mouth [of the river] again to select tools for the march, leaving
me in command. After various orders and counter orders we were finally
(December 21st) directed to appear upon the Plaza as early as possible
in order to march to El Moquete, where General Pillow was encamped with
the 3rd and 4th Illinois Volunteers. “Mind, Mr. Smith” said the old
Mustang[14] the night before, “mind and appear as early as possible,
so that you may not delay us”--all this with that air of dignity and
importance so peculiarly characteristic of Mustangs; well we got up
at daybreak and reached the Plaza a little after seven, immediately
reported ourselves ready to start and were informed that we should
wait for the guide who was _momentarily_ expected. We were to march in
advance, then the wagon train, then Gibson with his artillery (a twelve
pounder field piece and twenty-four pounder howitzer) was to bring up
the rear.

I waited and waited in the hot sun on the Plaza, watched the men
gorging themselves with oranges, sausages etc., them took to swearing
by way of consolation. When I had succeeded in working myself into a
happy frame of mind (about one o’clock) old Abercrombie[15] ordered
Gibson to start in advance and our company to bring up the rear. I wont
attempt to describe the beauties of forming a rear guard of a wagon
train. Suffice it to say that the men straggled a great deal, some got
rather drunk, all very tired. We reached the banks of El Arroyo Tigre
about 8 o’clock (two hours after dark) and then encamped as we best
could.

I rode on in advance of the company to see El Tigre and found Gibson
amusing himself by endeavoring to curse a team (a caisson) across the
river, which (the caisson, not the river--well, _both were_, after
all) had got mired in the middle. I rode back and met the company about
one mile from the camp ground, struggling along--tired to death and
straining their eyes to see water through the darkness. I consoled them
somewhat by telling them that it was not more than a mile to the water,
but they soon found that a mile on foot was a great deal longer than a
mile on horseback. However, we got there at last, pitched our camp, and
soon forgot all our troubles in sound sleep.

I rode in advance next morning through the long wagon train to find a
new ford. We crossed and encamped with General Pillow’s Brigade. Went
down to Major Harris’ (4th Illinois) tent, where I had a fine drink
of brandy and the unspeakable satisfaction of seeing a democratic
Volunteer Captain (in his shirt sleeves) sit, with the greatest
unconcern, on a tent peg for at least an hour. Gibson and I then went
to Winship’s tent where we found G. W. [Smith] and an invitation to
dine with General Pillow.

During dinner it began to rain like bricks. We adjourned to Winship’s
tent, and the sight we presented would have amused an hermit. The water
[was] about an inch deep in the tent, and we four sitting on the bed
passing around a tumbler continually replenished from that old keg
of commissary whiskey--oh lord! how it did fly ’round! and we were as
happy a set of soldiers as ever lived “in spite of wind and weather.”
“Whoa Winship,” says Gibson, “that’s too strong” so he drank it all
to keep us from being injured. Well, we amused ourselves in this way
until dark--then we waded back to our respective domiciles (is a tent a
domicile?) having previously seen old Patt make his grand entrée in the
midst of a hard rain--_he_ in Dr. Wright’s[16] covered wagon (looking
for all the world like an old Quaker farmer going to market), his
escort and staff dripping with the rain. _We_ wondered why they looked
so dismal and thought that it had not been such a horrid bad day after
all!

This evening G. W. [Smith] and myself had a grand cursing match over
an order from the “stable” requiring a detail from our camp to pitch
and unpitch the General’s tents etc. However, we sent them just about
the meanest detail that they ever saw. At this place our large army was
divided into two columns. We moved at the head of the first column.
General Pillow came on one day after us.

We started about 7.30--a bright sunny morning. Nothing of interest
this day--the men improved in their marching. We encamped about three
o’clock at Guijano, where there were two ponds of very good water.
We had a beautiful spot for our encampment, and a most delightful
moonlight evening. There is one house--hut rather--at this place.
From Matamoros to this place the road is excellent requiring no
repairs--chaparral generally thick on roadside--one or two small
prairies--road would be boggy in wet weather. From Matamoros to Moquete
[is] about ten miles, from El Moquete to El Guijano about ten miles.

On the next day (December 24th) we marched to Santa Teresa, a distance
of 27 miles. It was on this march that we (i. e. Songo[17]) made the
“raise” on General Patterson’s birds. He sent us four for supper.
We ate as many as we could and had five left for breakfast--fully
equal to the loaves and fishes this. We stopped for nearly an hour at
Salina--a pond of rather bad water about half way to Santa Teresa--what
a rush the Voluntarios made for the water! When we arrived we found
the mustang crowd taking their lunch.[18] As Songo had just then made
one of his periodical disappearances we were left without anything
to eat for some time, but at last we descried him caracoling across
the prairie on his graceful charger. The mustangs did not have the
politeness to ask us to partake of their lunch, but when Songo _did
come our_ brandy was better than theirs anyhow. At Santa Teresa the
water was very bad--being obtained from a tancho. I bluffed off a
volunteer regiment some 100 yards from our camp. As the Lieutenant
Colonel of this same regiment (3rd Illinois) was marching them along
by the flank he gave the command “by file left march!”--to bring it
on the color line. The leading file turned at about an angle of 30
degrees. “Holloa there” says the Colonel “you man there, you dont know
how to file.” “The h--l I dont” yells the man “d--n you, I’ve been
marching all day, and I guess I’m tired.”

Road good--passes principally through prairie--at Salina wood scarce in
immediate vicinity of the water, plenty about three quarters of a mile
from it. Wood not very plenty at Santa Teresa--enough however.

December 25th. We started at sunrise, and it was a sunrise well worthy
of the day. A cloud obscured the sun at first, but it seemed a cloud of
the brightest, purest gold, and the whole east was tinged with a hue
which would defy the art of man to imitate. It was one of those scenes
which occur but once in many years, and which elevate us for a moment
above the common range of our thoughts. In an instant I thought of my
whole life, of the happy Christmas days of my childhood, of my mother,
of the very few others I love--how happy Arthur and Mary[19] must have
been at that moment with their Christmas gifts! When I was a child--as
they are now--I little thought that I should ever spend a Christmas day
upon the march, in Mexico. The time may come hereafter when I shall
spend Christmas in a way little anticipated by me on _this_ Christmas
day. God grant that my troubles may be as few and my thoughts as
pleasant as they were then!

I rode off into the prairie--followed by Songo--and in the excitement
of chasing some rabbits managed to lose the column. I at length found
my way back, and was told that I had created quite an excitement.
When I was first seen in the distance they did not know whether I
was a Mexican or a white man. Patt, finally concluded that I must be
a straggling “Tennessee horse,” gave the Colonel a blowing up for
allowing his men to leave the column, and directed him to send out a
guard to apprehend the “vagrom man.” Just about that time Smith found
out what was going on, discovered who it was and rectified the mistake.

Passed Chiltipine about 11 A. M.--sent Songo to buy eggs and milk.
After we had passed about a mile beyond the Ranche [Rancho, a hut], I
heard a peculiar neigh--which I recognized as Jim’s--and loud laughing
from the volunteers. I turned around and saw Jim “streaking it against
time” for the mare--head up, eyes starting and neighing at every jump,
minus Songo. I rode back to see what had become of the “faithful
Jumbo,” Jim following like a little puppy dog. It appeared that Jim had
thrown his “fidus Achates.” When we stopped at Chiltipine Dr. Wright
gave us a drink of first rate brandy.

At Chiltipine (or very near there) we left the road and took a prairie
path to the left. The grass was so high that we found ourselves at
about 1 P. M. out of sight of the train and artillery. Pat became very
much agitated and ordered a halt, glasses were put in requisition
(brandy and spy) but no train could be discovered. Pat became highly
excited and imagined all kinds of accidents. At last some artillery was
discovered. Pat’s excitement reached its highest pitch, for he took it
into his head that they were Mexicans. “Good G--d, Mr. Smith! Take your
glass--take your glass--those are our artillery or something worse! I
fear they have been cut off.” However, it turned out to be Gibson, and
Pat’s countenance changed suddenly from a “Bluntish,” blueish, ghastly
white to a silly grin.

At last we reached our camp at a dirty, muddy lake--ornamented by a
dead jackass. Pat ensconced himself in the best place with Tennessee
horse as a guard, put Gibson “in battery” on the road, with us on his
left flank--a large interval between us and the Tennessee horse--a
similar one between Gibson and the Illinois foot. Gibson had orders to
defend the road. How he was to be informed of the approach of the enemy
“this deponent knoweth not,” such a thing as a picket was not thought
of. I suppose Pat thought the guns old enough to speak for themselves.

For our Christmas dinner we had a beefsteak and some fried mush. Not
quite so good as turkey and mince pies, but we enjoyed it as much as
the cits at home did their crack dinners. We finished a bottle of the
Captain’s best sherry in a marvellous short time. Songo looked as if
he thought we ought to be fuddled, but we were too old soldiers for
that. After dinner we started off “to see Seth Williams,” but saw
the mustangs at their feed and “huevosed” the ranche. By the bye, we
thought that ordinary politeness would have induced old Pat to have
given us an invitation to dine, but we spent our time more pleasantly
than we would have done there. We went from Pat’s to Colonel Thomas’s,
and returned thence to Gibson, whom we found in a very good humor,
and whose Volunteer Sub-Lieutenant (W----) was most gloriously and
unroariously [sic] corned. He yelled like a true Mohawk, and swore
that “little Jane” somebody had the prettiest foot and hand in all
Tennessee. He set the men a most splendid example of good conduct
and quietness, but what _can_ you expect from a Volunteer? One of his
ideas was first rate--“Just imagine old Patt being attacked by the
Mexicans, and running over here in his shirt tail--breaking thro’ the
pond with old Abercrombie after him. The d--d old fox put us here where
he thought the enemy would get us. Suppose they should come in on the
other side? D--n him we’d see him streaking over here, with old McCall
and Abercrombie after, their shirt tails flying, by G--d.”

December 26th. Marched 20 miles to San Fernando where we arrived a
little after sunset. Road level until we arrived within about 5 miles
of San Fernando, when it became rocky and hilly but always practicable.
About 4 miles from San Fernando we reached the summit of a hill from
which we beheld a basin of hills extending for miles and miles--not
unlike the hills between the Hudson and Connecticut opposite West
Point. About two miles from San Fernando are some wells of pretty good
water--the men were very thirsty--Gerber offered a volunteer half
a dollar for a canteen full of water. My little mare drank until I
thought she would kill herself. The Alcalde and his escort met General
Patterson at this place. He was all bows, smiles and politeness.
_Murphy_ of whom more anon had the honor of taking San Fernando by
storm. He was the first to enter it, mounted on his gallant steed. We
first saw San Fernando as we arrived at the summit of a high hill, the
last rays of the sun shining on its white houses, and the dome of the
“_Cathedral_” gave it a beautiful appearance. It was a jewel in the
midst of these uninhabited and desert hills. We encamped in a hollow
below the town--had a small eggnog and dreamed of a hard piece of work
we had to commence on the morrow. Mañana [tomorrow morning] por la
mañana.

December 27th. We had our horses saddled at reveillé and before sunrise
were upon the banks of El Rio de San Fernando--a clear, cold and
rapid mountain stream, about 40 yards wide and two and a half feet
deep--bottom of hard gravel. We crossed the stream and found ourselves
the first American soldiers who had been on the further bank. The
approaches to the stream from the town required some repairs, nothing
very bad--it was horrible on the other side. As we again crossed the
stream we halted to enjoy the beautiful view--the first rays of the sun
gave an air of beauty and freshness to the scene that neither pen nor
pencil can describe.

With a detail of 200 men and our own company we finished our work
before dinner. Walked up into the town in the afternoon. On this day
General Pillow overtook us. He had a difficulty with a volunteer
officer who mutinied, drew a revolver on the General, etc., etc. The
General put him in charge of the guard--his regiment remonstrated,
mutinied, etc., and the matter _was finally settled by the officer
making an apology_.

December 28th. Crossed the stream before sunrise under orders to move
on with the Tennessee horse one day in advance of the column in order
to repair a very bad ford at the next watering place--Las Chomeras.
Very tiresome and fatiguing march of about 22 miles. Road pretty good,
requiring a few repairs here and there. Water rather brackish. Very
pretty encampment. Stream about 20 yards wide and 18 inches deep. No
bread and hardly any meat for supper.

December 29th. Finished the necessary repairs about 12 noon. We partook
of some kid and claret with Colonel Thomas. While there General
Patterson arrived and crossed the stream, encamping on the other side.
Waded over the stream to see the Generals--were ordered to move on in
advance next morning with two companies of horse and 100 infantry.

December 30th. Started soon after daybreak minus the infantry who were
not ready. Joined advanced guard, where Selby raised a grand scare
about some Indians who were lying in ambush at a ravine called “los
tres palos” in order to attack us. When we reached the ravine the guard
halted and I rode on to examine it and look for the Indians--I found a
bad ravine but no Indians.

On this same day the Major commanding the rear guard (Waterhouse, of
the Tennessee Cavalry) was told by a wagonmaster that the advanced
guard was in action with the Mexicans. The men, in the rear guard,
immediately imagined that they could distinguish the sound of cannon
and musketry. The cavalry threw off their saddle bags and set off at
a gallop--the infantry jerked off their knapsacks and put out--Major
and all deserted their posts on the bare report of a wagonmaster that
the advance was engaged. A beautiful commentary this on the “citizen
soldiery.” Had we really been attacked by 500 resolute men we must
inevitably have been defeated, although our column consisted of
1700--for the road was narrow--some men would have rushed one way, some
another--all would have been confusion--and all, from the General down
to the dirtiest rascal of the filthy crew, would have been scared out
of their wits (if they ever had any).

Our 100 infantry dodged off before we had done much work, and our own
men did everything. We reached Encinal about 4 P. M. after a march of
about 17 miles, and almost incessant labor at repairs. It was on this
day that _General_ Patterson sent back _Brigadier General_ Pillow to
tell _Second Lieutenant_ Smith to cut down a tree around which it was
impossible to go!!

December 31st. We left Encinal at daybreak and arrived at about 2 P.
M. at Santander, o’ Jimenez. Road good for about ten miles when we
found ourselves on the brow of a hill, some 350 feet above the vast
plain, in the midst of which was the little town of Santander. No other
indication of life was to be seen than its white houses. The descent
was very steep, the road bad from the foot of the hill to Santander.
We had a slight stampede here, some one imagined that he saw an armed
troop approaching (which turned out to be the Alcalde and his suite).
We passed the town, crossed the river and encamped. Songo got 19 eggs
and we had a “bust.” Colonel Thomas turned out some whiskey to Gibson
for an eggnog--before he arrived the eggnog was gone. I have some
indistinct ideas of my last _sensible_ moments being spent in kneeling
on my bed, and making an extra eggnog on the old mess chest. I dont
recollect whether I drank it or not, but as the pitcher was empty the
next morning, I rather fancy that I must have done so.

January 1st, 1847. Woke up and found the ridge pole _off_ at one end.
I rather suspect that G. W. [Smith] must have done it by endeavoring
to see the old year out--perhaps the new one came in via our tent, and
did the damage in its passage. We began the new year by starting on
the wrong road. After invading about two miles of the enemies’ country
we were overtaken by an officer at full gallop, who informed us that
the column had taken another road and that we must make our way to the
front as we best could. Smith had been informed the preceding day by
Winship (General Pillow’s Adjutant General) that the road we took was
the right one to Victoria. We quickly discovered the magnitude of our
mistake, for we got amongst the Volunteers, and the lord deliver us
from ever getting into such a scrape again. Falstaff’s company were
regulars in comparison with these fellows--most of them without coats;
some would have looked much better without _any pants_ than with the
parts of pants they wore; all had torn and dirty shirts--uncombed
heads--unwashed faces--they were dirt and filth from top to toe. Such
marching! They were marching by the flank, yet the road was not wide
enough to hold them and it was with the greatest difficulty that you
could get by--all hollowing, cursing, yelling like so many incarnate
fiends--no attention or respect paid to the commands of their officers,
whom they would curse as quickly as they would look at them. They
literally straggled along for miles.

In making a short cut through the chaparral we came upon a detachment
of _mounted Volunteers_, amongst whom the famous Murphy, captor of two
cities, stood out predominant. He was mounted on the “_crittur_” he
had “_drawn_,” i. e. stolen in the bushes. The beast was frisky and
full of life at first, but by dint of loading him down with knapsacks
and muskets he had tamed him pretty well. Imagine an Irishman some
six feet, two inches high, seated on the “hindmost slope of the rump”
of a jackass about the size of an ordinary Newfoundland dog, his legs
extended along its sides, and the front part of the beast loaded down
with knapsacks etc. Murphy _steered_ the animal with his legs, every
once and a while administering a friendly kick on the head, by way of
reminding him that _he_ was thar.

When we crossed the San Fernando I saw a Mexican endeavoring to make
two little jackasses cross. He was unable to do so and finally sold
them to a Volunteer for fifty cents; the Volunteer got them over
safely. After regaling ourselves with a view of Murphy we considered
ourselves fully repaid for the extra distance we had marched. At last
we gained our place at the head of the column and arrived at Marquesoto
about 12 noon, without further incident--except that General Pillow
appropriated one of our big buckets to the purpose of obtaining water
from the well. We had a very pretty ground for our encampment and
had a fine eggnog that night, with Winship to help us drink it. From
Santander to Marquesoto about ten miles.

January 2nd. Started before daylight, Captain Snead’s Company in
advance. Road very rough, covered with loose stones--could not improve
it with the means at our command. Pat thought we might have done
it--but hang Pat’s opinion. Saw for the first time the beautiful flower
of the Spanish bayonet--a pyramid, about two and a half or three feet
high, composed of hundreds of white blossoms. Pat immediately began to
talk about “δενδρον” this and “δενδρον” that--and the “δενδρα” in his
conservatory. San Antonio is the place where Iturbide[20] was taken--as
Arista’s map says.... It is a large yellow house--looking quite modern
in the wilderness.

[Illustration: Facsimile reproduction of McClellan’s manuscript.

FIRST PAGE OF THE MEXICAN WAR DIARY.]

The crossing at the stream was very bad, and required a great deal of
work. Major McCall thought it would take two days--in two days we were
at Victoria. The stream is a branch of the Soto la Marina and is called
San Antonio. It is a clear cold stream--the banks lined with cypress
trees--the first I ever saw. Pat (after ringing in to the owner of the
ranch for a dinner) ensconced himself in the roots of a large cypress
and with a countenance expressing mingled emotions of fear, anxiety,
impatience and disgust watched the progress of the work--yelled at
everyone who rode into the water etc., etc.

January 3rd. We started before daylight and succeeded in getting clear
of the volunteer camp by dint of great exertions. After marching about
five miles through a fertile river bottom we reached the main branch of
the Soto la Marina, a most beautiful stream of the clearest, coldest,
most rapid water I ever saw--about sixty yards wide and three feet
deep. Songo had some trouble in crossing without being washed off “Jim.”

Padilla is situated on the banks of this stream--an old town rapidly
going to ruin--with a quaint old Cathedral built probably 200 years
ago, if not more. After marching about twelve miles more we reached
the stream of La Corona, another branch of La Marina, similar in
its character to the others. After working for about an hour on the
banks we encamped on the further side. The Tennessee horse gave our
men a “lift” over both the last streams--some of the Sappers[21] had
evidently never been mounted before.

January 4th. Very early we started for Victoria--and had to work our
way through the camp of the Illinois regiments which was placed along
the road. At last we cleared them and found ourselves marching by
moonlight through a beautiful grove of pecan trees. I know nothing
more pleasant than this moonlight marching, everything is so beautiful
and quiet. Every few moments a breath of warm air would strike our
faces--reminding us that we were almost beneath the Tropic. After we
had marched for about four hours we heard a little more yelling than
usual among the Volunteers. Smith turned his horse to go and have
it stopped when who should we see but the General and his staff in
the midst of the yelling. We concluded that _they_ must be yelling
too, so we let them alone. This is but one instance of the many that
occurred when these Mustang Generals were actually _afraid_ to exert
their authority upon the Volunteers.--_Their popularity would be
endangered._ I have seen enough on this march to convince me that
Volunteers and Volunteer Generals wont do. I have repeatedly seen a
Second Lieutenant of the regular army exercise more authority over the
Volunteers--_officers and privates_--than a Mustang General.

The road this day was very good and after a march of about seventeen
miles we reached Victoria. The Volunteers had out their flags,
etc.--those that had uniforms put them on, _especially the commandant
of the advanced guard_. Picks and shovels were put up--Generals
halted and collected their staffs, and in they went in grand
procession--evidently endeavoring to create the impression that they
had marched in this way all the way--the few regular officers along
laughing enough to kill themselves.

General [John A.] Quitman came out to meet General Patterson--but old
Zach [Taylor], who arrived with his regulars about an hour before we
did, stayed at home like a sensible man.[22] We made fools of ourselves
(not we either, for I was laughing like a _wise man_ all the time) by
riding through the streets to General Quitman’s quarters where we had
wine and fruit. Then we rode down to the camp ground--a miserable stony
field--we in one corner of it, the “Continental Army” all over the
rest of it. We at last got settled. About dark started over to General
Taylor’s camp. Before I had gone 200 yards I met the very person I was
going to see--need not say how glad I was to meet him after a two
months absence.

This reminds me that when at Matamoros--a day or two before we started
on the march--we received the news of poor Norton’s death. I had
written a letter to him the day before which was in my portfolio when
I heard of his death. The noble fellow met his death on board the
Atlantic, which was lost in Long Island Sound near New London on the
27th November 1846. Captain Cullum and Lieutenant C. S. Stewart were
both on board, and both escaped. Norton exerted himself to the last to
save the helpless women and children around him--but in accordance with
the strange presentiment that had been hanging over him for some time,
he lost his own life. He was buried at West Point--which will seem to
me a different place without him.

One night when at Victoria I was returning from General Taylor’s
camp and was halted about 150 yards from our Company by a Volunteer
sentinel. As I had not the countersign I told him who I was. He said
I should not go by him. I told him “Confound you I wont stay out here
all night.” Said he “You had no business to go out of camp.” Said I
“Stop talking, you scoundrel, and call the Corporal of the Guard.”--“I
ain’t got no orders to call for the Corporal and wont do it--you may,
though, if you want.” “What’s the number of your post?” “Dont know.”
“Where’s the Guard tent?” “Dont know.”--As I was debating whether
to make a rush for it, or to seek some softer hearted specimen of
patriotism, another sentinel called out to me “Come this way, Sir!”--It
appeared that the first fellow’s post extended to one side of the road,
and the last one’s met it there.--“Come this way, Sir” said he, “Just
pass around this bush and go in.” “Hurrah for you” said I, “you’re a
trump, and that other fellow is a good for nothing blaguard.”

Left Victoria January 13th and arrived at Tampico on the 23rd.
Wednesday January 13th. From Victoria to Santa Rosa four leagues. Road
not very hilly, but had to be cut through thick brush; two very bad wet
arroyos [gulches] were bridged. Santa Rosa a miserable ranche--could
only get a half dozen eggs and a little pig in the whole concern--good
water _in the stream_.

[January] 14th. Started before daylight and before going 200 yards we
_landed_ in a lake--the road, or path, passed directly through it, and
during the rest of the day it was necessary to cut the road through
thick brush--no cart had ever been there before. Bridged two wet
arroyos and encamped about sunset by a little stream. Just as enough
water had been procured the stream was turned off--probably by the
Mexicans. We had a stampede this day. Rode on about six miles with the
guide. Country a perfect wilderness--not a ranche between Santa Rosa
and Fordleone.

[January] 15th. Started early, road cut through a mesquit[e] forest,
many gullies, two bad arroyos before reaching El Pastor. Here General
Twiggs[23] caught us, about 11 A. M., army encamped, but we went on. I
worked the road for about five miles, and started back at 4 [o’clock].
Smith and Guy de L....[24] rode on about ten miles. Road better but
very stony. “Couldn’t come the cactus” over Guy de L.... this day. He
(G. de L.) shot five partridges at a shot which made us a fine supper.

[January] 16th. Reveillé at 3--started at 4--arrived at end of
preceding day’s work just at daybreak. Road very stony in many
places--swore like a trooper all day--arrived at Arroyo Albaquila
about 11 [A. M.]. Twiggs came up and helped us wonderfully by his
swearing--got over in good time--cussed our way over another mile and a
half--then encamped by the same stream--water very good.

[January] 17th. Started before daybreak--road quite good--prairie
land--arrived at Fordleone or Ferlón at about half after ten. Fine
large stream of excellent water--good ford--gravelly bottom--gentle
banks. 11 miles.

[January] 18th. Reveillé at 3. Started long before daybreak--eyes
almost whipped out of my head in the dark by the branches. Crossed
the Rio Persas again at a quarter before seven--road rather stony in
some places, but generally good. Great many palmetto trees--beautiful
level country, covered with palmettos and cattle. “Struck” a bottle of
aguardiente, or sugar cane rum. Made a fine lunch out of cold chicken
and rum toddy--had another toddy when we arrived at our journey’s end.
Water from a stream, but bad.... Rode on about three miles and found
the road pretty good.

[January] 19th. On comparing notes at reveillé found that the rum and
polonay had made us all sick.[25] Started at 5, road pretty good.
Much open land, fine pasture--great deal of cattle. Reached Alamitos
at about 9 A. M.--fine hacienda [farm]--good water, in a stream. Had
a bottle of champagne for lunch--thanks to General Smith. From this
place to Tampico, the principal labor consisted in making a practicable
wagon road across the numerous arroyos--most of them dry at the time
we passed: the banks very steep. Altamira is a pretty little town,
one march from Tampico. The road between them passes through a very
magnificent forest of live oaks. We encamped three miles from Tampico
for about four days, and then moved into quarters in the town--the
quarters so well known as “The Bullhead Tav_arn_.”

Tampico is a delightful place[26]--we passed a very pleasant time
there, and left it with regret. We found the Artillery regiments
encamped around the city. Many of the officers came out to meet us near
Altamira. Champagne suppers were the order of the day (night I should
say) for a long time. From Victoria to Tampico we were detached with
Guy Henry’s company of the 3rd--and Gantt’s of the 7th--Henry messed
with us. When within about four days march of Tampico we saw in front
of us Mount Bernal, which is shaped like a splendid dome.

We left Tampico[27] at daylight on the 24th February [1847] on board
a little schooner called the Orator--a fast sailer, but with very
inferior accommodations. I really felt sorry to leave the old “Bullhead
Tavarn” where I had passed so many pleasant moments. The view of the
fine city of Tampico as we sailed down the river was beautiful. Its
delightful rides, its beautiful rivers, its lagoons and pleasant Café
will ever be present to my mind. Some of the happiest hours of my life
were passed in this same city--Santa Anna de Tamaulipas.

On arriving at Lobos[28] we found that we had arrived a day in advance
of the “Army of the Rhine,” which had started a day before us. Lobos is
a small island formed by a coral reef--about 18 or 20 miles from the
shore, forming under its lee a safe but not very pleasant anchorage.
I went on shore but found nothing remarkable. Some 60 vessels were
there when we started. At last the order was given to sail for Point
Anton Lizardo. We sailed next but one after the generals and arrived
before any of them except Twiggs. We ran on the reef under the lee of
Salmadina Island, were immediately taken off by the navy boats which
put us on shore where we were very kindly received by the Rocketeers.
It was a great relief to get rid of that confounded red and white
flag--“send a boat with an officer”--and the disagreeable duty of
reporting to the ‘Generál en Géfe’ every morning. A French sailor of
the Orator undertook to pilot us and carried us on a reef of what he
called Sacrificios[29] but what turned out to be Anton Lizardo.

On the morning of the 9th of March we were removed from the Orator to
the steamer Edith, and after three or four hours spent in transferring
the troops to the vessels of war and steamers, we got under weigh
and sailed for Sacrificios. At half past one we were in full view of
the town [Vera Cruz] and castle, with which we soon were to be very
intimately acquainted.

Shortly after anchoring the preparations for landing commenced, and
the 1st (Worth’s)[30] Brigade was formed in tow of the “Princeton” in
two long lines of surf boats--bayonets fixed and colors flying. At
last all was ready, but just before the order was given to cast off
a shot whistled over our heads. “Here it comes” thought everybody,
“now we will catch it.” When the order was given the boats cast off
and forming in three parallel lines pulled for the shore, not a word
was said--everyone expected to hear and feel their batteries open
every instant. Still we pulled on and on--until at last when the first
boats struck the shore those behind, in the fleet, raised that same
cheer which has echoed on all our battlefields--we took it up and such
cheering I never expect to hear again--except on the field of battle.

Without waiting for the boats to strike the men jumped in up to their
middles in the water and the battalions formed on their colors in an
instant--our company was the right of the reserve under [Lieut.-]
Colonel Belton. Our company and the 3rd Artillery ascended the sand
hills and saw--_nothing_. We slept in the sand--wet to the middle.
In the middle of the night we were awakened by musketry--a skirmish
between some pickets. The next morning we were sent to unload and
reload the “red iron boat”--after which we resumed our position and
took our place in the line of investment. Before we commenced the
investment, the whole army was drawn up on the beach. We took up our
position on a line of sand hills about two miles from the town. The
Mexicans amused themselves by firing shot and shells at us--all of
which (with one exception) fell short.

The sun was most intensely hot, and there was not a particle of
vegetation on the sand hills which we occupied. Captain Swift found
himself unable to stand it, and at about half past twelve gave up the
command to G. W. Smith and went on board the “Massachusetts” that same
afternoon. He did not resume the command, but returned to the United
States. He died in New Orleans on the 24th of April.

About one we were ordered to open a road to Malibran (a ruined
monastery at the head of the lagoon). The Mohawks had been skirmishing
around there, but, as I was afterward informed by some of their
officers, that they fired more on each other than on the Mexicans.
After cutting the road to Malibran we continued it as far as the
railroad--a party of Volunteers doing the work and some 25 of our men
acting as a guard. When we arrived at the railroad, we found it and
the chaparral occupied by the Mexicans. _Our_ men had a skirmish with
them--charged the chaparral and drove them out of it.

We returned to Malibran and bivouacked on the wet grass without
fires--hardly anything to eat--wet and cold. Got up in the morning
and resumed our work on the road--from the railroad to the “high bare
sand hill”--occupied by the Pennsylvanians the night before. The work
was very tedious, tiresome and difficult--the hill very high and
steep--and the work not at all facilitated by the shells and shot
that continually fell all around us. At last we cut our way to the
summit--tired to death. A M---- rifleman was killed this morning by a
24 pound shot--on top of the hill. Lieutenant Colonel Dickenson and
some few Volunteers were wounded by escopette[31] balls.

I was sent up in the morning to find the best path for our road
and just as I got up to the top of the hill the bullets commenced
whistling like hail around me. Some Lancers[32] were firing at the
Volunteers--who were very much confused and did not behave well.
Taylor’s Battery and the rest of Twiggs’s Division moved over the hill
towards their position on the left of the line. Worth’s Division (or
Brigade as it was then called) occupied the right of the investment,
the Mohawks under Patterson the centre, and Twiggs the left. After
resting our men at Malibran, we moved back to our old position with the
3rd Artillery, where we bivouacked.

I had observed on the preceding day the position of the aqueduct
supplying the city with water. I told Lieutenant Beauregard[33] next
morning what I had seen. He reported it to Colonel [Joseph G.] Totten
[Chief of Engineers] and Smith and myself were ordered to cut off
the water, Foster remaining at home. We took a party, cut off the
water, Smith exploded a humbug of Gid Pillow’s and we started on a
reconnoitring expedition of our own. I stopped to kill a “slow deer”
and Smith went on. I then followed him with three men and overtook him
a little this side of the cemetery. We went on to within 900 yards
of the city and at least a mile and a half in advance of the line of
investment--ascertained the general formation of the ground and where
to reconnoitre. We returned after dark, Foster much troubled as to what
had become of us. It was upon reporting to Colonel Totten on this night
(12th) that he said that I and G. W. [Smith] were the only officers
who had as yet given him any information of value--that we had done
more than all the rest, etc., etc. All forgotten with the words as they
left his mouth--vide his official report of the siege. G. W. and myself
will never forget how we passed this blessed night--(new fashioned
dance).

On the next day Foster was sent after our baggage and camp equipage. I
was ordered to move the company and pitch the tents on a spot on the
extreme right. Smith went out with Major [John L.] Smith to where we
had been the night before, but went no further toward the city than we
had been.

[March 14th]. The next day Foster was detailed to assist Major Smith
and Beauregard in measuring a base line etc. on the sand hills. G. W.
and myself went to the lime kiln in the morning, where we saw Captain
[John R.] Vinton, Van Vliet, Laing, Rodgers and Wilcox (Cadmus)--took
a good look at the town and its defences--and determined to go along
the ridge by the cemetery that night and to go nearer the city. While
at the lime kiln an order was received from General Worth informing
Captain Vinton that the enemy’s picquets would be driven in that day
and that _he_ (Captain Vinton) must not attempt to support them--as
there were strong reserves.

We returned to camp, got our dinner and started again--being a little
fearful that our picquets would be so far advanced as to interfere
with our operations. But we found them about 150 yards in advance of
the line of investment, stooping, whispering, and acting as if they
expected to be fired upon every moment--whilst we had been a mile and a
half in advance of their position with a dozen men. They were at first
disposed to dissuade us from going on--as being too dangerous etc. We
went on though, accompanied by Captain Walker of the 6th. The Captain
left us before we got to the cemetery. I took one man (Sergeant Starr)
and went down to reconnoitre it--in order to ascertain whether it was
occupied by the enemy, whilst G. W. [Smith] went on to examine a hill
which covered the valley from Santiago and the Castle to some extent.
I went down to the cemetery (finding a good road) went around it and
got in it--satisfying myself that it was not occupied. I rejoined G. W.
and together we went on very near the town. We returned late, being the
only officers of any corps who had gone as far as, much less beyond the
cemetery.

[March] 15th. The next day we were ordered to cut an infantry road as
far as the cemetery. We found that one had been cut before we got out
by Captain Johnson as far as the old grave yard. We cut one completely
concealed from view from there to the hollow immediately opposite the
cemetery. Captain Walker’s company was behind the cemetery. Whilst
there one of his sentinels reported the approach of some Lancers.
They stopped at a house about 30 yards from the other side of the
cemetery--and came no farther. On the strength of the approach of these
15 or 20 Lancers a report got back to camp that the advanced picquets
had been attacked by a strong force of Mexicans--so on our return we
met nearly the whole division marching out to drive them back--litters
for the “_to be_ wounded” and all. It was a glorious stampede--well
worthy of Bold Billy Jenkins.

[March] 16th. The next day we went out [and] met Major Scott who
went with G. W. to [the] position afterward occupied by the six gun
battery--whilst I had a hole made through the cemetery wall and broke
into the chapel--hoping to be able to reach the dome, and ascertain
from that place the direction of the streets. I could not--we
rather--get up to the dome, so we left the cemetery, determining to
push on toward the town. G. W. found a very fine position for a battery
about 450 yards from Santiago and enfilading the principal street.
We met Colonel Totten and Captain [R. E.] Lee[34]--showed them the
place--they were very much pleased with it.

We came out with the Company (Captain Lee, Smith, Foster and myself)
that evening, arrived at the place after dark, and Captain Lee, Smith
and Foster went in to lay out a battery--leaving me, in command of the
Company, in the road. When on our return we were passing by the old
grave yard a sharp fire of musketry commenced--one of our pickets had
been fired upon.

The next day (17th) we cut a path to the position of this battery (in
perspective). As we returned they discovered us and opened a fire of 24
pound shot upon us which enfiladed our path beautifully. They fired too
high and hit no one. We reached at length a sheltered position where we
remained until the firing ceased--the balls striking one side of the
hill--we being snugly ensconced on the other.

On the next day (18th) the position of the batteries was definitely
fixed. In the afternoon I was ordered by Colonel Totten to arrange
at the Engineers’ Depot (on the beach) tools for a working party of
200 men--and be ready to conduct it as soon as it was dark to the
proper position. The working party (3rd Artillery, Marines, and 5th
Infantry--all under Colonel Belton) did not arrive until long after
dark--and it was quite late when we arrived at the position for the
batteries. I was placed in charge of Mortar Battery No. 1--G. W. in
charge of No. 2--a parallel was also made across the little valley.
Each of these batteries was for three mortars. No. 1 was formed
by cutting away the side of a hill, so that we had merely to form
the epaulments[35] and bring the terreplein[36] down to the proper
level--the hill sheltering us from the direct fire of the Castle and
Santiago. So also with No. 2--which was made in the gorge where the
road to the cemetery crossed the ridge on left of valley.

The tools for [the] working party were arranged on the beach in
parallel rows of tools for 20 men each and about four feet apart, so
that they might take up the least possible space. Each man was provided
with a shovel and either a pick, axe, or hatchets (about 140 picks and
mattocks). The party was conducted in one rank, by the right flank. The
men were well covered by daylight.

[March] 19th. Mason, Foster, and I think [I. I.] Stevens, relieved
Captain Lee, Beauregard, Smith and myself at 3 A. M. During the day
they continued the excavation of the two batteries and the short
parallel across the valley. The enemy kept up a hot fire during the
forenoon but injured no one. During the evening of this day Smith laid
out and commenced the parallel leading from No. 1 to the position
afterward occupied by the 24 pounder battery. The work was difficult
on account of the denseness of the chaparral and the small number of
workmen. The parapet was made shot proof (or sufficiently so to answer
the purpose of covering the morning relief) by daybreak. The enemy
fired grape etc. for a short time, but not sufficiently well aimed or
long enough kept up to impede the progress of the work. The battery
known as the Naval Battery was commenced on this same night. The enemy
were kept in entire ignorance of the construction of this battery until
the very night before it opened, and then they only discovered that
_something_ was being done there--they did not know what. The Mexican
Chief Engineer told Colonel Totten of this fact after the capitulation.

[March] 20th. The construction of the parallel and of the mortar
batteries Nos. 1 and 2 was carried on during this day. By 3 P. M.,
when Mason and myself went out there--the parallel was finished--the
_excavation_ of the two batteries completed--the sandbag traverses
in No. 2 finished--those in No. 1 very nearly so. We were to lay out
and excavate the positions for the two magazines of each battery, to
commence Mortar Battery No. 3 (for four mortars), lay the platforms
and place the magazine frames--which were to be brought out at night
fall. By the direction of Mason, I had the positions of the magazines
prepared and laid out before dark. Colonel Totten came out and directed
me to lay out No. 3. I also laid out the boyau[37] leading from _1_ to
_2_. Mason took charge of the magazines _1_ and _2_ and directed me
to take charge of No. 3. I employed four sets of men on the battery
at the same time--one set throwing the earth from the rear of the
parallel upon the berm[38]--a second on the berm disposing of this
earth thrown on the berm--a third set working at the rear of the
battery, excavating toward the front, these threw the earth so as to
form slight epaulments, and in rear. A fourth set were employed in
making the excavations for the magazines. A very violent Norther arose
which obliged me to employ the first and second sets _in front_ of the
battery--they excavating a ditch.

At daylight the parapet was shot proof and the battery required about
one hour’s digging to finish it. Owing to some mistake the platforms
and magazine frames did not arrive until very late and but little
progress was made as far as they were concerned. Had they arrived in
time all three batteries could have opened on the afternoon of the
21st. The construction of the battery on the left of the railroad [was]
still progressing. They fired rockets etc. at us during the early part
of the night.

[March] 21st. During this day not very much was done--some progress was
made with the six gun battery--magazines, platforms, etc.

[March] 22nd. Not being aware of a change in the detail I went out at
3 A. M. Found the magazines of No. 2 finished, the small magazines of
No. 1 the same. Took charge of large magazine of No. 1--whilst Mason
was engaged with those of No. 3. About 8 [o’clock] was informed of
change of detail, went to camp and was requested by Colonel Totten to
go out to the trenches “extra” and give all the assistance in my power,
since the General wished to send in a summons to the town at 2 P. M.
and open upon them if they refused to surrender. I went out and was
chiefly occupied during the day in covering the magazine of No. 1 with
earth. This was done under fire of Santiago and adjacent bastion, which
batteries having a clear view of my working party made some pretty
shots at us--striking the earth on the magazine once in a while, but
injuring no one. At 2 P. M. we were ready to open with three mortars in
No. 1--three in No. 2--one in No. 3.--seven in all.

The flag was carried in by Captain Johnston, the enemy ceased firing
when they saw it. Colonel Bankhead[39] informed the Commandants of
Batteries 1 and 3 that the discharge of a mortar from No. 2 would be
the signal to open from all the mortars. The flag had hardly commenced
its return from the town when a few spiteful shots from Santiago at my
party on the magazine told us plainly enough what the reply had been.
Probably half an hour elapsed before a report from No. 2 gave us the
first official intimation that General Morales[40] had bid defiance to
us, and invited us to do our worst.

The command “Fire!” had scarcely been given when a perfect storm of
iron burst upon us--every gun and mortar in Vera Cruz and San Juan,
that could be brought to bear, hurled its contents around us--the air
swarmed with them--and it seemed a miracle that not one of the hundreds
they fired fell into the crowded mass that filled the trenches. The
recruits looked rather blue in the gills when the splinters of shells
fell around them, but the veterans cracked their jokes and talked about
Palo Alto and Monterey. When it was nearly dark I went to the left
with Mason and passed on toward the town where we could observe our
shells--the effect was superb. The enemy’s fire began to slacken toward
night, until at last it ceased altogether--ours, though, kept steadily
on, never ceasing--never tiring.

Immediately after dark I took a working party and repaired all the
damage done to the parapets by the enemy’s fire, besides increasing
the thickness of the earth on the magazines of _No. 1_. Captain
Vinton was killed a short time before dark near Battery No. 3 by a
spent shell--two men were wounded by fragments of shells near _No.
1_. Shortly after dark, three more mortars were put in Battery No.
3--making 10 mortars in all. Captain [John] Saunders was employed upon
the 6 gun battery (24 pounders). He revetted[41] it with one thickness
of sand bags, all of which fell down next morning. I brought out from
the Engineer Depot the platforms for this battery during the night--the
magazine frame was brought out next day. The battery on the left of the
railroad [was] still progressing, under the charge of Captain [R. E.]
Lee, [Lieut. Z. B.] Tower and [G. W.] Smith--who relieved each other.

[March] 23rd. Firing continued from our mortars steadily--fire of
enemy by no means so warm as when we opened on the day before. Our
mortar platforms were much injured by the firing already. The 24
pounder battery had to be re-revetted entirely--terreplein levelled.
During this day and night the magazine was excavated, and the frame
put up. Two traverses made--the positions of platforms and embrasures
determined. Two platforms laid and the guns run in--the embrasures
for them being partly _cut_. One other gun was run to the rear of the
battery.

[March] 24th. On duty with Captain Saunders again--could get no
directions so I had the two partly cut embrasures marked with sand bags
and dirt, and set a party at work to cover the magazine with earth
as soon as it was finished. During this day the traverses[42] were
finished, the platforms laid, the magazine entirely finished, and a
large number of sand bags filled for the revetments of the embrasures.
The “Naval Battery” opened today, their fire was fine music for us, but
they did not keep it up very long. The crash of the eight-inch shells
as they broke their way through the houses and burst in them was very
pretty. The “Greasers” had had it all in their own way--but we were
gradually opening on them now. Remained out all night to take charge of
two embrasures. The Alabama Volunteers, who formed the working party,
did not come until it was rather late--we set them at work to cut down
and level the top of parapet--thickening it opposite the third and
fourth guns. Then laid out the embrasures and put seven men in each.
Foster had charge of two, Coppée of two, and I of two. Mine were the
only ones finished at daylight--the Volunteers gave out and could
hardly be induced to work at all.

[March] 25th. Mason and Stevens relieved Beauregard and Foster--but
I remained. I had the raw hides put on--and with a large party of
Volunteers opened the other embrasures. This was done in broad
daylight, in full view of the town--yet they had not fired more than
three or four shots when I finished and took in the men. The battery
then opened. We then gave it to Mexicans about as hotly as they wished.
We had ten mortars--three 68s, three 32s, four 24s, and two eight-inch
howitzers playing upon them as fast as they could load and fire.
Captain Anderson, 3rd Artillery, fired on this morning thirty shells in
thirty minutes from his battery of three mortars (No. 1).

As I went to our camp I stopped at Colonel Totten’s tent to inform
him of the state of affairs--he directed me to step in and report to
General Scott. I found him writing a despatch. He seemed to be very
much delighted and showed me the last words he had written which were
“indefatigable Engineers.” Then we were needed and remembered--the
instant the pressing necessity passed away we were forgotten. The echo
of the last hostile gun at Vera Cruz had not died away before it was
forgotten by the Commander in Chief that such a thing existed as an
Engineer Company.[43]

[Illustration: Facsimile reproduction of a pencil sketch by McClellan.

CHURCH AT CAMARGO, SEEN FROM THE PALACE.]

The superiority of our fire was now very apparent. I went out again
at 3 P. M.--met Mason carrying a large goblet he had found in a
deserted ranch. Found Captain Lee engaged in the construction of a
new mortar battery for four mortars, immediately to the left of No.
1--in the parallel. There was a complete cessation of firing--a flag
having passed in relation to the consuls, I think. The platforms of
this battery were laid, but not spiked down. A traverse was made in
boyau between Nos. 1 and 2, just in front of the entrance of the large
magazine of No. 1, it being intended to run a boyau from behind this
traverse to the left of the new battery. I laid out a boyau connecting
Stevens’s communications with the _short_ “parallel” of No. 2, then
Captain Lee explained his wishes in relation to the new battery and
left me in charge of it. I thickened the parapet from a ditch in
front--inclined the superior slope _upward_, left the berm, made the
traverses, had the platforms spiked, etc. The mortars were brought
up and placed in the battery that night. Captain Saunders sent me to
repair the embrasures of the 24 pounder battery--doing nothing himself.
He then sent me to excavate the boyau I had laid out.

About 11.30 the discharge of a few rockets by _our_ rocketeers caused
a stampede amongst the Mexicans--they fired escopettes and muskets
from all parts of their walls. Our mortars reopened about 1.30 with
the greatest vigor--sometimes there were six shells in the air at the
same time. A violent Norther commenced about 1 o’clock making the
trenches very disagreeable. About three quarters of an hour, or an hour
after we reopened we heard a bugle sound in town. At first we thought
it a bravado--then reveillé, then a parley--so we stopped firing to
await the result. Nothing more was heard, so in about half an hour
we reopened with great warmth. At length another chi-wang-a-wang was
heard which turned out to be a parley. During the day the terms of
surrender of the town of Vera Cruz[44] and castle of San Juan de Ulua
were agreed upon, and on 29th of March, 1847 the garrison marched out
with drums beating, colors flying and laid down their arms on the plain
between the lagoon and the city ... muskets were stacked and a number
of escopettes ... pieces of artillery were found in the town and ... in
the castle.

After the surrender of Vera Cruz we moved our encampment--first to
the beach, then to a position on the plain between our batteries and
the city. Foster was detached on duty with the other Engineers to
survey the town and castle. Smith and myself were to superintend the
landing of the pontoon and engineers trains, and to collect them at
the Engineer Depot. Between the Quartermasters and Naval Officers this
was hardly done when we left. I dismantled the batteries, magazines
etc.--then amused myself until we left, with the chills and fever.

J[immie] S[tuart] being too sick to go on with his regiment came over
to our camp and stayed with us. Instead of being sent on in our proper
position, at the head of Twiggs’s Division, we were kept back and
finally allowed to start on the same day that Worth started[45]--we
received no orders to move, merely a permission. Our teams (6) were
the worst I ever saw--they had just been lassooed as they swam ashore,
and neither they nor their teamsters had ever seen a wagon before. We
left Vera Cruz on the 13th [April]. By dint of applying some of the
_knowledge_ I had acquired under Guy Henry’s parental care, I succeeded
in getting four teams to Ve[r]gara (Twiggs’s headquarters during the
siege). As Smith and Foster did not come up I rode back to see what
was the matter and found that they had arrived at a point opposite the
middle of the city, broken down two sets of teams, got one teamster’s
arm and hand badly kicked--and the devil to pay in general. At last
they got on, and by leaving half the loads by the roadside we managed
by hard swearing to get to within one-half mile of El Rio Medio by
dark.

The road so far was horrible, being hilly and very sandy. Our mules
were so weak and miserable that the men actually had to push the wagons
along, and it was easy to see that our march was to be very severe upon
all concerned. General Worth and his staff passed us as we were busily
engaged in “cussing” a team up a hill--we then learned for the first
time that Santa Anna was at Cerro Gordo with a large force. When we
encamped this night everybody was tired to death, and the only event
worthy of recollection was the thrashing that a certain lazy nigger
“Isaac” received from his frisky “bos.”

On the [14th] we made an early start and after “persuading” the mules
up the hill beyond Rio Medio we got along without very much trouble
until we arrived at Santa Fé. Here the wagons were unloaded and leaving
me with about ten men Smith and Foster went back after the loads left
at Ve[r]gara. Jimmie [Stuart] and I struck up an acquaintance with
the Alcalde--a very nice sort of a man. I found a couple of cavalry
barracks etc. We amused ourselves chatting with the Alcalde all
day--who tried hard to stampede us with guerilla tales etc. Captain
Hughes came up late in the afternoon, Smith arrived after dark, having
left the wagons with the ordnance people about half a mile behind.
While G. W. [Smith] was at supper, Jimmie, who had been amusing
himself by playing monte with the Rancheros, came back and amused us by
an account of a _muy poquito muchachito_ [a very little boy] about four
years old playing monte and smoking paros [_puros_, or cigars].

Foster came up at last, and we all turned in. Santa Fé is a poor little
affair--no water, but rather a fine view of a large extent of rolling
country.

On the 15th I started back after the wagons before daybreak “unwashed
and uncombed.” After a vast amount of swearing at “Seven Bottles,” of
whom more anon, I got all the wagons up to Santa Fé--set the men to
work at loading the wagons--got my breakfast, and at last we started.
Country at first a rolling prairie--finally more broken and woody. We
passed some of the most magnificent forests I ever saw--trees covered
with most beautiful flowers--the fields also--the villages were
completely deserted. About the middle of the day we stopped at a stream
to rest.--While taking our lunch under the bridge an old stupid Dutch
teamster brought down his mules to water and finally proceeded to water
himself. He drank seven (!) claret bottles full of water and at length
finding that process too slow he _took to his bucket_! We went on and
overtook the ordnance fellows at ....... Had a good supper and a fine
sleep, although they did try to stampede us about Lancers etc.--but
they could not do it.

Started early on the 16th [April]--country remarkably broken--even
mountainous. We passed several very long hills, at which it was
necessary to treble our poor little teams. Met Simon Buckner[46] with
a beef party. Arrived at Puerto Nacional just before Worth’s Division
left it (about 2 P. M.). Saw all the fellows and made our preparations
to start at twelve at night. Took a fine bath in the clear mountain
stream, and then dinner. After dinner we went to see Santana’s
Hacienda--found a little boy in it who was frightened to death at the
Barbarians. A réal [a small coin, about 12½ cents] soon quieted him.

The bridge has a curved axis--it is a beautiful piece of architecture.
It would be impossible to cross it were the heights around properly
defended and the bridge itself occupied. The bridge and heights
might all be turned by enterprising light infantry, for the stream is
fordable. From the nature of the ground it would be impossible for
artillery or cavalry to turn it without _great trouble and labor_.

Reveillé at 11.30--started at quarter past twelve--of course no
undressing. S[tuart] “thought as he was already dressed there could be
no hurry.” Night pitch dark. About an hour before daybreak found in
the road a saddle (American) and a pool of blood--some poor devil of a
straggler from Worth’s Division probably murdered. After ascending the
hill just beyond this spot, G. W. [Smith], J. S[tuart] and myself laid
down in the road to sleep--that half hour’s sleep just before going
into battle was the sweetest I ever enjoyed. Passed in the course of
the morning a great many stragglers from Worth’s Division--they had
lagged behind in the night march. About two miles from Plan del Rio we
were sitting in a ranche waiting for the wagons, when a wagonmaster
came galloping by saying that the Lancers had cut off the train. The
escort of dragoons was about 800 yards nearer Plan del Rio than we. We
galloped back--the escort not far behind and found that our wagons were
safe, but that the Lancers had cut off a few of the stragglers whom we
had passed.

Suddenly a turn of the road displayed Plan del Rio[47] at our feet--the
little valley filled with troops, horses, artillery, wagons, etc. We
arrived at about 10.30 A. M.--found the Engineers and took a lunch
with them. G. W. S[mith] and myself then rode out to Twiggs’s position
with Captain Lee--we arrived just in time to see the ball open [i. e.,
the battle of Cerro Gordo]. Saw old Twiggs, who wondered “Where the
devil did you two boys come from?” and started back to bring up the
company. On the way back a round shot came about as near my head as
would be regarded agreeable in civil life and then missed enfilading
the 2nd Infantry about a foot and a half. When we got back to El Plan,
I was ordered to join [Lieut. Z. B.] Tower with ten men--to go with
Gid Pillow and the Mohawks.[48] Did my best that afternoon _to find
out where we were to go in the morning but none of them would tell me
anything about it_. G. W. left me ten of the best men in the company,
and took Foster and the rest with him to report to General Twiggs.
It seemed to be a mutual thought that the chances all were that we
would not meet again! The idea of being killed by or among a parcel of
Volunteers was anything but pleasant.

Got up before daybreak--woke up the men--had the mare fed and
saddled--drank some coffee--distributed tools to my party and was
ready for battle long before our dear Mohawks had their breakfasts.
Also gave some tools to the Volunteers. My men had hatchets, axes and
billhooks--the Volunteers [had] axes, sap-forks and billhooks. At
length all was ready and much to my surprise we marched straight up
the road toward Jalapa. So little did I know of our point of attack--I
only knew that we were to attack either their right or front, and that
we would as surely be whipped--for it was a Volunteer Brigade. I led
off with my detachment, and after passing the greater part of Worth’s
Division--which was formed in column of platoons in the road--we turned
off to the left, nearly opposite the point where Twiggs turned to
the right. Tower directed me to place my men on the path inclining
_most to the left_. I did so and rested my men, whilst waiting for the
Volunteers who were a long distance behind. At length General Pillow
came up, and seeing my men, directed that they should be placed on the
path _inclining to the right_.

Lieutenant Tower made some remark about changing the route, and also
that we would be more apt to be seen when crossing some ravine if we
went to the right. I remember distinctly that the impression made
upon me by the conversation was that General Pillow had against the
opinion of Lieutenant Tower changed the _route to be followed_ in
order to attain the point of attack. I had no idea of the importance
of the change and that it could lead to a different point of attack. I
afterward found that the different paths led to very different parts
of the enemy’s position, the one we actually followed bringing us in a
very exposed manner against the front of the works, whilst if we had
taken the one advised by Lieutenant Tower we should have turned the
right of their works and have been but little exposed to their fire.

The fault of the erroneous selection was General Pillow’s, except that
Lieutenant Tower should, as the senior Engineer with the column, have
taken a firm stand and have forced General Pillow to have pursued the
proper path. It was certainly a fine opportunity for him to show what
stuff he was made of--but unfortunately he did not take advantage of it
at all.

We at length moved off by the flank. My detachment [was] at the head,
and during the movement--at all events before the firing against us
commenced--we heard the musketry of the attack of Twiggs’s Division
upon the Telegraph Hill.[49]

After moving about two-thirds of a mile from the main road we reached
a certain crest bordering upon a ravine, whence a strong picket of
Mexicans was observed. Tower advised General Pillow to incline his
Brigade well to the right in order to cross the ravine lower down and
out of view. The General directed Colonel [Francis M.] Wynkoop[50] to
countermarch--file twice to the right and move upon a certain dead tree
as his point of direction (Colonel Campbell’s [1st] Tennessee Regiment
to support him). He was then to form his men for the attack and charge
upon hearing a concerted signal from the rest of the Brigade. Colonel
[William T.] Haskell[51] at once commenced forming his Regiment in
a column of platoon, the flank of the column toward the work. His
men having straggled a great deal this arrangement was attended with
some difficulty--the men being literally shoved into their places one
by one. Hardly two platoons were formed when General Pillow shouted
out at the top of his voice--“Why the H--l dont Colonel Wynkoop file
to the right?” I may here observe that we had heard very distinctly
the commands of the Mexican officers in their works. This yell of
the General’s was at once followed by the blast of a Mexican bugle
and within three minutes after that their fire opened upon us. The
General may have shouted this before a single platoon of Haskell’s was
formed--but the interval must have been very short, because Wynkoop’s
Regiment had not reached its destination and had not formed there when
the firing commenced.

When the Mexican fire opened Haskell’s Regiment became at once
“confusion worse confounded.” Some of the men rushed toward the works,
many broke to the rear, very many immediately took cover behind the
rocks, etc. I at once asked General Pillow for orders to proceed
“_somewhere_” with my detachment--for I had as yet received no orders
or directions from anyone and was utterly ignorant of the ground. While
talking with the General--who was squatting down with his back to
the work--he was wounded in the arm, upon which his aide, Lieutenant
Rains, appeared from somewhere in the vicinity and they together went
off to the rear, on the run. I then went in amongst the Tennesseeans
and found at once that it was useless to attempt doing anything there,
as that Regiment (Haskell’s) was utterly broken and dispersed and
the Pennsylvania Regiment, which was to support them, had kept so
well in reserve that they could not be found. I then went over to the
other side of the ravine--the firing had by this time nearly if not
altogether ceased.

Upon arriving there I found Campbell’s Regiment in pretty good order
and _in good spirits_, the Pennsylvania Regiment (Wynkoop’s) in most
horrible confusion. Campbell was moving on toward the work, and I at
once advised General Pillow to halt him until some order could be
restored to the other Regiments. He took my advice and directed me to
give the order to Campbell, which I did. I thought that it was by no
means certain that Campbell alone could carry the works and that if
he were checked or repulsed all was lost, for there was not a company
formed to support him. Besides, although his Regiment was moving on
well, they were not then under fire, nor had they been under any fire,
to speak of, that day--so I doubted the steadiness of their movements
when their advance should have brought them in sight and under the fire
of, the Mexicans.

Colonel Haskell came up without his cap about this time and a very
warm conversation ensued between him and General Pillow--the General
accusing him of misconduct and deserting his troops, the Colonel
repelling his assertions and stating that his Regiment was cut to
pieces. I at once, without saying a word to either the General or the
Colonel, called to my party and directed them to beat the bushes for
“2nd Tennesseeans” and to bring all they could find to where we were.
They soon returned with quite a number.

In the course of conversation I told General Pillow that I did not
think that he could carry the works without some Regulars. He assented
and directed me to go at once in search of General Scott and ask him,
from him (Pillow) for a detachment of Regulars--whatever number he
could spare, saying that he would make no movement until my return.
I immediately ran down to the road where I expected to find General
Scott and Worth’s Division and there found that the General had gone
on. I jumped on my mare and galloped around by Twiggs’s road and at
length found the General about half way up the ridge over which Worth’s
Division passed to reach the Jalapa road--the rear of Worth’s Division
was then crossing. I told the General my message and he directed me to
say to General Pillow that he had no Regulars to spare, that the last
of Worth’s Division was then passing over, that Santa Anna had fallen
back with all his army, except about 5000 men, toward Jalapa, that he
expected to fight another battle with Santa Anna at once, and that he
thought it probable that the 5000 men cut off would surrender--finally
that General Pillow might attack again, or not, just as he pleased. He
evidently was not much surprised and not much “put out” that Pillow was
thrashed, and attached no importance to his future movements.

With this reply I returned, and could not for a long time, find any of
the valiant Brigade. I at length found Wynkoop’s Regiment. He told me
that white flags were flying on the work and that one or two had come
down toward his position--but that as he did not know what they meant,
could not raise a white handkerchief in the crowd, and had no one who
could speak Spanish, he had held no communication with them. I told him
what they meant and said that when I had seen General Pillow I would
return and go to meet them. As I left he asked me if I could not give
him an order to charge--I said “_No_”--then said he--“Tell General
Pillow that if I dont get an order to charge in half an hour, I’ll be
d--d if I dont charge anyhow”--this after I had told him that the white
flag meant a surrender!!!

I at length found General Pillow some distance in rear and reported.
Castor came up a moment or two afterward and told General Pillow that
he had been sent to inform him that the Mexicans had surrendered--on
which I took my men down the road and directing them to come on and
rejoin the company as soon as possible--I galloped on to overtake it.
During my conversation with General Scott he mentioned that he had
_seen_ the charge of Twiggs’s Division and spoke of it as the most
beautiful sight that he had ever witnessed. He said everything in
praise of his “rascally Regulars.”

With reference to the operations of Twiggs’s Division.--During the
afternoon of the 17th [April] the hill opposite to and commanded by the
Telegraph Hill was carried by Harney’s ([Persifer F.] Smith’s) Brigade
and the enemy pursued partly up the Telegraph Hill by the Rifles
and 1st Artillery. They were, however, _recalled_ to the hill first
mentioned, which was occupied in force.

During the night one twenty-four pounder, one twelve pounder and a
twenty-four pound howitzer were with great difficulty hauled up and
put in position behind a slight epaulment. There were also a couple
of the Mountain Howitzers and some Rocketeers. Shields’s[52] Brigade
of Volunteers were somewhere in the vicinity to support and were
employed to man the drag ropes used to haul up the pieces. It may be
well to mention that they were more than once “_stampeded_” while
engaged in this by the mere discharge of a piece--no ball coming near
them. Another detachment of New York Volunteers was engaged during
the afternoon and night of the 17th in hauling an eight-inch howitzer
along the crest on the other side of the “Rio” in order to take an
enfilade or reverse fire upon the Mexican works. Taylor’s Battery was
with Twiggs, Dunean came around with Worth--Steptoe was with Twiggs.
The cavalry and rest of the artillery were in the Jalapa road ready to
advance in pursuit.

Harney was directed to storm the hill, Reilly to cut off the retreat
of the Mexicans by the Jalapa road--Worth to support. The affair of
the 18th was opened, on our side, by the fire of our artillery. The 24
pounder was badly served and did little or no real damage. At length
Harney charged over the valley with the 1st Artillery, 3rd and 7th
Infantry, the Rifles being thrown out to cover his left. He carried
the hill in gallant style. Reilly allowed himself to deviate from his
proper path and instead of pushing straight on for the Jalapa road, he
amused himself by skirmishing to his right and left--so that he did not
accomplish the purpose for which he was sent, that is, he _did not_ cut
off Santa Anna’s retreat.

In the meantime Shields was sent around still further to our right,
to turn the Mexican left. He finally came out in front of certain
batteries, charged them but was _repulsed completely_ and himself
badly wounded. About this time Harney carried the Telegraph Hill and
that commanding these last batteries, one or two discharges from its
summit with the captured pieces at once cleared them. Upon that the
Volunteers right gallantly charged and carried them at the point of the
bayonet, _there not being a soul in the battery at this time_.

Twiggs--at least a part of his Division--moved on at once in pursuit.
The Cavalry soon followed, but the Mexicans had gained a long start and
made the best use of their legs--so that not very many were killed or
taken in the pursuit. Twiggs and the Cavalry also the Volunteers halted
at Encero. Worth remained at Plan del Rio and Cerro Gordo. I myself
overtook my company at Encero where we bivouacked that night--and felt
right proud that we had won that day a glorious victory.

On the morning of the 19th we marched from Encero to Jalapa, about
twelve miles, at the head of Twiggs’s Division. We entered Jalapa about
11.30 A. M., our company being the first American infantry to set foot
in that city. It rained quite violently during the greater part of
the march, which prevented me from enjoying fully the beauty of the
scenery, especially as I had to _foot it_. It was really delightful,
upon entering Jalapa, to see gentlemen and _ladies_, at least persons
dressed and appearing as such. The white faces of the ladies struck us
as being exceedingly beautiful--they formed so pleasing a contrast to
the black and brown complexions of the Indians and negroes who had for
so long been the only human beings to greet our sight. The Jalapiños
appeared perfectly indifferent about us, manifesting neither pleasure
nor sorrow at our approach. Our march from Encero and entrance into
Jalapa was entirely undisturbed--not a shot being fired or soldiers
seen. Of course not the slightest excess was committed by any of the
Regulars. We at first marched to the Cuartel [Barracks] where we
remained some few hours, until at last we were ordered to a posada
[sleeping place] on the Plaza.

I was very much pleased with the appearance of Jalapa and its
inhabitants. The women were generally pretty, the gentlemen well
dressed. They carried to a great extent the custom of filling the
balconies with flowers, which gave a very pleasant appearance to the
streets. Soon after we had established ourselves at the posada we were
astonished by a great commotion in the streets, which was ascertained
to be caused by the arrival of the Cerro Gordo prisoners, who had all
been released on parole, and of course fought us again upon the first
opportunity. They were marching back to Puebla and Mexico, organized in
regiments, etc.--merely being deprived of their arms. The disgust in
the Division at this release was most intense, we felt poorly repaid
for our exertions by the release of these scoundrels, who, we felt
sure, would to a man break their parole. They passed the night in the
streets around the Plaza and in the morning robbed all the poor market
women in the vicinity.[53]

We had no beds that night--our baggage not being up--were lucky enough
to get some frijoles and chocolate for supper--breakfast ditto. Worth’s
Division came up about one o’clock on the 20th and we were ordered on
at the head of it,--to leave Jalapa at 3.30 of the same day.

       *       *       *       *       *

City of Mexico,[54] opposite Alameda, November 3rd, 1847. G. W. thinks
that a captain will be sent out to command the Company, and that he (G.
W.) will be relieved by the 1st March, 1848. Mc. thinks that no captain
will come and that the unfortunate “duet” wont get out under a year, or
longer. Quien Sabe?

April 15th, Post Office--Captain hasn’t “arrivo”--duet still here--year
most half out and a’in’t off yet!!![55]

September 22nd, 1849--West Point, N. Y. Mc. thinks that he’s booked
for an infernally monotonous life for the remainder of his natural
existence and wishes he were back again in No. 2 Calle San Francisco.

August 25th, 1852--Solitary and alone on the “Columbus”--for New
Orleans.

December 25th, 1852--Solitary and alone at Indianola [Texas]! Heavens!
What a Christmas!




INDEX


  Altamira, 50.

  Anton Lizardo, Point, 52, 53.


  Bankhead, Col., 66.

  Beauregard, Lieut. P. G. T., 57, 63, 70.

  Belton, Lieut.-Col., 54, 62.

  Brazos de Santiago (Texas), 7, 8-9.

  Brooks, N. C., quoted, 51 (note).

  Buckner, Simon B., 77 (and note).


  Camargo, 10-11, 13.

  Campbell, Col., 82, 84-85.

  Cerro Gordo, battle of, 79-90.

  Chiltipine, 30-34.

  Crawford, Dr. Samuel, 1.


  Encero, 90, 91.

  Encinal, 37.


  Fordleone, 47, 48.

  Foster, Lieut. J. G., 57, 58, 61, 63, 69, 70, 74, 75, 80.

  Furber, George C., quoted, 27 (note).


  Grant, U. S., quoted, 44 (note), 71 (note).

  Guijano, 27.


  Harney, 88-90.

  Haskell, Col. William T., 83-84, 85.

  Henry, Capt. Guy, 48, 50, 74.


  Iturbide, Agustin de, 40.


  Jalapa, 90-92.


  Lee, Capt. R. E., 61, 63, 68, 71, 72, 79.

  Lobos, Isle of, 51.


  McCall, George A., 21, 33, 41.

  McClellan, George B., birth and education, 1;
    commissioned, 2;
    promotion, 4;
    leaves for Mexico, 7;
    at Camargo and Matamoros, 10-14, 23-24;
    march to Victoria, 24-43;
    at Victoria, 43-46;
    march to Tampico, 46-50;
    at Lobos, 51;
    at Vera Cruz, 53-73;
    march to Cerro Gordo, 74-79;
    battle of Cerro Gordo, 80-90;
    march to Jalapa, 90-93;
    at Mexico City, 92-93.

  McMaster, J. B., quoted, 52 (note), 74 (note).

  Malibran, 55, 56.

  Marquesoto, 40.

  Mason, Lieut. J. L., 63, 64, 65-66, 67, 70.

  Matamoros, 10, 11, 12, 23.

  Meade, George G., 5, quoted, 18 (note), 22 (note), 48 (note).

  Moquete, 23, 27.

  Murphy, 34, 39.


  Padilla, 42.

  Patterson, Gen. Robert, 14, 15, 16, 20-21, 22 (note), 23-24, 26, 27,
    30, 31-32, 33, 35, 37, 40, 41, 43, 56.

  Pillow, Gen. Gideon J., 15, 23, 25, 26, 35, 37, 52 (note), 79, 81-87.

  Plan del Rio, 78-79.

  Puerto Nacional, 77.


  Quitman, Gen. John A., 44, 52 (note).


  Rancho Padillo, 23.

  Reilly, 89.


  San Fernando, 33-34.

  Santa Fé, 75-76.

  Santander, 37.

  Santa Rosa, 46.

  Santa Teresa, 27-28, 29.

  Saunders, Capt. John, 68, 69, 72.

  Scott, Gen. Winfield, 52 (note), 70, 71 (note), 86, 87.

  Semmes, R., quoted, 79 (note), 82 (note).

  Shields, Gen. James, 52 (note), 88, 89, 90.

  Smith, Lieut. Gustavus W., 2, 4, 7, 11, 20-21, 23, 25, 26, 31, 36,
    38, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60-62, 63, 68, 74, 75, 78, 80, 93.

  Smith, Major John L., 58.

  “Songo,” 27-28, 30, 37, 42.

  Stevens, Lieut. I. I., 63, 70, 72.

  Stuart, “Jimmie,” 14, 73-74, 75-76, 78.

  Swift, Capt. A. J., 2, 7, 11, 16, 55.


  Tamaulipas, 51.

  Tampico, 50-51.

  Taylor, Gen. Zachary, 22 (note), 44.

  Totten, Col. Joseph G., 2, 57-58, 61-62, 64, 66, 70.

  Tower, Lieut. Z. B., 67, 78-81.

  Twiggs, Gen. David E., 47, 48, 52, 56, 74, 79, 80, 82, 87-90.


  Vera Cruz, siege of, 53-73.

  Vergera, 74, 75.

  Victoria, 43-46.

  Vinton, Capt. John R., 58, 68.

  Volunteers, 16, 18, 28-29, 36, 38-39, 43, 80.


  Walker, Sears Cook, 1.

  Waterhouse, Major, 36.

  Williams, Seth, 15-16, 32.

  Worth, Gen. William J., 52 (note), 53, 56, 58, 74, 75, 77, 78, 80, 86,
    89, 90, 92.

  Wynkoop, Col. Francis M., 82, 84, 86-87.




FOOTNOTES:

[1] In a letter to his brother “Tom” dated West Point, September 22,
1846, McClellan wrote: “We start with about 75 men--the best Company
(so Gen’l. Scott and Col. Totten both say) in the service. All
Americans--all young--all intelligent--all anxious, very eager for the
campaign--and above all, well drilled. If the Lord and Santa Anna will
only condescend to give us a chance--I’ll be most confoundedly mistaken
if we don’t thrash them ‘some’.” (_McClellan Papers_, Vol. I.)

[2] Gustavus W. Smith was one of McClellan’s most intimate friends and
was known by him by the nickname of “Legs.” He was born in Scott Co.,
Kentucky, on January 1, 1822. He died in New York on June 23, 1896.
Smith graduated from West Point in 1842. He entered the Confederate
Army in 1861 and distinguished himself in the Peninsular Campaign
fighting against his old friend at the battles of Seven Pines and Fair
Oaks.

[3] A town of some three thousand inhabitants, situated on the river
San Juan about three miles above its junction with the Rio Grande.
It is about one hundred miles by land from Matamoros. (See _Life and
Letters of General George Gordon Meade_, Vol. I, pages 109 and 119.)

[4] A letter from McClellan to his mother, dated “Camp off Camargo,
Mex.,” November 14, 1846, tells her that when he arrived at Matamoros
he was taken sick almost immediately. He remained sick for two weeks
while there and “whilst on the steamboat thence to Camargo” ... “When
we got here I went into hospital quarters whence I emerged yesterday,
so that I have had almost a month’s sickness, but now am perfectly
well.” He adds, “I would not have missed coming here for the world,
now that I am well and recovering my strength, I commence to enjoy the
novelty of the affair, and shall have enough to tell you when I return,
to fill a dozen books.” (_McClellan Papers_, Vol. I.)

[5] Later on McClellan wrote in the diary on a page otherwise blank:

“On the 18th June, 1851, at five in the afternoon died Jimmie Stuart,
my best and oldest friend. He was mortally wounded the day before by
an arrow, whilst gallantly leading a charge against a party of hostile
Indians. He is buried at Camp Stuart--about twenty-five miles south of
Rogue’s River [Oregon?], near the main road, and not far from the base
of the Cishion (?) Mountains. His grave is between two oaks, on the
left side of the road, going south, with J. S. cut in the bark of the
largest of the oaks.”

[6] Robert Patterson, born at Cappagh, County Tyrone, Ireland, on
January 12, 1792, died at Philadelphia, Pa., on August 7, 1881.
Came to America early in life and became a prominent merchant and
Democratic politician in Philadelphia. Served both in the War of 1812
and in the Mexican War and in 1861 was mustered into the service as a
major-general. He commanded the troops in the Shenandoah Valley and was
outwitted by General Joseph E. Johnston who slipped away in time to
join Beauregard and rout the Union forces under McDowell at the first
battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861. Patterson was retired from the
army the same month.

[7] Tampico was captured November 14, 1846.

[8] Gideon J. Pillow was born in Williamson Co., Tennessee, on June
8, 1806. He died in Lee Co., Arkansas, on October 6, 1878. Pillow
was a prominent Tennessee politician and was active in securing the
presidential nomination for his intimate friend James K. Polk. In 1846
he was commissioned a brigadier general by Polk and went to the front
in command of the Tennessee volunteers. In 1861 he became a brigadier
general in the Confederate Army and is famous for having deserted
his forces at Fort Donelson on February 15, 1862, leaving them to be
surrendered to Grant the next day by his subordinate, General Simon B.
Buckner. Also see _Autobiography of Lieut.-Gen. Scott_, Vol. II, pages
416-417.

[9] Later a brigadier general in the Union Army. He was adjutant
general on McClellan’s staff and closely connected with him while in
command of the Army of the Potomac.

[10] The city was captured on September 24, 1846, after three days
fighting.

[11] “The people are very polite to the regulars ... but they hate
the volunteers as they do old scratch himself.... You never hear of
a Mexican being murdered by a regular or a regular by a Mexican. The
volunteers carry on in a most shameful and disgraceful manner; they
think nothing of robbing and killing the Mexicans.” Letter to mother,
dated “Camp off Camargo, Mex.,” November 14, 1846. (_McClellan Papers_,
Vol. I.)

“I believe with fifteen thousand regulars, we could go to the City of
Mexico, but with thirty thousand volunteers the whole nature and policy
of the war will be changed. Already are the injurious influences of
their presence perceptible, and you will hear any Mexican in the street
descanting on the good conduct of the ‘tropas de ligna,’ as they call
us, and the dread of the ‘volontarios.’ And with reason, they (the
volunteers) have killed five or six innocent people walking in the
streets, for no other object than their own amusement; to-be-sure, they
are always drunk, and are in a measure irresponsible for their conduct.
They rob and steal the cattle and corn of the poor farmers, and in fact
act more like a body of hostile Indians than of civilized whites. Their
own officers have no command or control over them, and the General has
given up in despair any hope of keeping them in order. The consequence
is they are exciting a feeling among the people which will induce them
to rise en masse to obstruct our progress, and if, when we reach the
mountains, we have to fight the _people_ as well as the soldiers, the
game will be up with us. I have some hope, however, that when we leave
this place, which has become a mass of grog-shops and gambling-houses,
and march to meet the enemy, the absence of liquor, and the fear of the
enemy, may induce a little order among them and bring them to a better
state of discipline.” Letter of George G. Meade, dated Matamoros,
July 9, 1846. (_Life and Letters of General George Gordon Meade_,
Vol. I, pages 109-110.) Meade wrote further, from Camargo, August 13,
1846: “Already have they in almost every volunteer regiment reported
one-third their number sick, and in many cases one-half the whole
regiment, and I fear the mortality will be terrible among them, for
their utter ignorance of the proper mode of taking care of themselves.
The large number of sick is a dead weight upon us, taking away so many
men as hospital attendants, requiring quarters, etc., and if taken sick
on the march, requiring transportation in wagons or on litters.” (Same,
page 121.) Also from Monterey, December 2, 1846: “The volunteers have
been creating disturbances, which have at last aroused the old General
[Taylor] so much that he has ordered one regiment, the First Kentucky
foot, to march to the rear, as they have disgraced themselves and
their State.... The volunteers cannot take any care of themselves; the
hospitals are crowded with them, they die like sheep; they waste their
provisions, requiring twice as much to supply them as regulars do. They
plunder the poor inhabitants of everything they can lay their hands
on, and shoot them when they remonstrate, and if one of their number
happens to get into a drunken brawl and is killed, they run over the
country, killing all the poor innocent people they find in their way,
to avenge, as they say, the murder of their brother. This is a true
picture, and the cause is the utter incapacity of their officers to
control them or command respect.” (Same, pages 161-162.)

For further testimony of the same character see Luther Giddings,
_Sketches of the Campaign in Northern Mexico_, pages 81-85; William
Jay, _Review of the Mexican War_, pages 214-222; J. J. Oswandel, _Notes
on the Mexican War_, page 114. Also see postea, page 37.

[12] George A. McCall was born in Philadelphia, Pa., on March 16, 1802,
and died there on February 25, 1868. He graduated from West Point
in 1822. McCall was made a brigadier general in 1861 and placed in
command of the Pennsylvania Reserves. He distinguished himself in the
Peninsular Campaign under the command of McClellan at the battles of
Mechanicsville, Gaines’s Mill and Frazier’s Farm.

[13] Meade, in a letter dated “Monterey, November 10, 1846,” wrote
in explanation of this move as follows: “The cabinet at Washington,
profiting by the history of the Aulic Council, is manoeuvering his
(Taylor’s) troops for him, and at Washington, entirely independent of
his wishes and views, organizing expeditions for Tampico, even going
so far as to designate the troops and their commanders. To-be-sure, it
is well understood how this is done, by the mighty engine of political
influence, that curse of our country, which forces party politics into
everything.

“General Patterson and others are good Democrats; they are indignant
that General Taylor should have left them in the rear when he carried
more troops than he could feed. They complain at Washington, and
forthwith General Patterson and Co. are directed to proceed against
Tampico, and General Patterson informed before his commanding general
knows anything about it. Well may we be grateful that we are at war
with Mexico! Were it any other power, our gross follies would have been
punished severely before now.

“General Taylor, of course, has to succumb, and the Tampico expedition
is to be immediately prosecuted. General Patterson goes from
Camargo.... He marches direct to Tampico. General Taylor, however,
does not design that he shall have it in his power, from ignorance or
other causes, to fail; therefore he will leave here with a column of
some two thousand men and artillery, light and heavy, and will join
General Patterson before he reaches Tampico, when both columns united,
and under General Taylor’s command, will operate against the town, in
conjunction with the navy, if the latter have it in its power to do
anything.” (_Life and Letters of G. G. Meade_, Vol. I, page 152.)

[14] i. e., General Patterson.

[15] Aide to General Patterson.

[16] Surgeon on General Patterson’s staff.

[17] A Mexican servant.

[18] George C. Furber, in his _Twelve Months Volunteer; or Journal of
a Private in the Campaign in Mexico_, gives in chapters VIII and IX
(pages 275-393) a lively account of this same march, in which he took
part, from Matamoros to Victoria and Tampico. He describes many of the
events noted by McClellan, but from the standpoint of an enthusiastic
and self-confident member of the volunteer forces.

The contemptuous sting in McClellan’s frequent references to “mustangs”
can be appreciated from the following. Says Furber (page 376):
“The ‘mustang cavalry’--a description of force unknown to the army
regulations ... accompanied us from Victoria.--It was composed of
numbers from the three regiments of infantry. Any one that could raise
the means to buy a long-eared _burro_ (jackass), or a mule, or old
Mexican horse, or any such conveyance, immediately entered the mustang
cavalry. Such animals could be bought for from three to five dollars.
Some of the riders had procured Mexican saddles, with their horsehair
housings and bridles also; while some had bridles, but no saddles;
others had saddles without bridles; while others, again, had neither.
Here was a soldier large as life, with his musket in his hand, on a
little jackass, without saddle or bridle, and so small that the rider
had to lift his feet from the ground;--the little _burro_ jogged along
with him, occasionally stopping to gather a bite of grass.”

[19] McClellan’s small brother and sister.

[20] Agustin de Iturbide was born in Spain on September 27, 1783, the
son of a Spanish noble. He entered the army and attained a high and
responsible position in the Spanish administration of Mexico. In 1821
he advocated the celebrated “Plan of Iguala,” in which it was proposed
that Mexico should become independent under the rule of a member of
the Spanish royal family. Ferdinand VII regarded the movement as a
rebellion, and Iturbide himself was proclaimed emperor as Agustin I in
May, 1822, and crowned the following July.

A rebellion immediately broke out against his authority under the lead
of Santa Anna, who proclaimed a republic at Vera Cruz. Iturbide was
forced to abdicate in March, 1823, and went to Europe. He returned to
Mexico the following year but was arrested and shot at Padilla on July
19, 1824.

[21] Sappers, soldiers employed in the building of fortifications,
field works, etc. (_Century Dict._)

[22] “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 sideways--with both feet on one side--particularly on the
battlefield.... 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.” U. S. Grant, _Memoirs_, Vol. I, pages 138-139.

[23] David E. Twiggs was born in Richmond Co., Georgia, in 1790. He
served in the war of 1812, and in the Mexican War became a brigade and
division commander under General Scott. In February, 1861, he was in
command of the Department of Texas, but surrendered his forces, with
the military stores under his charge, to the Confederates. On March 1,
1861, Joseph Holt, Secretary of War, issued “General Order No. 5” as
follows,--“By the direction of the President of the United States, it
is ordered that Brig. Gen. David E. Twiggs, major-general by brevet,
be, and is hereby, dismissed from the Army of the United States, for
his treachery to the flag of his country, in having surrendered,
on the 18th of February, 1861, on the demand of the authorities of
Texas, the military posts and other property of the United States in
his department and under his charge.” (_Official Records, War of the
Rebellion, Series I_, Vol. I, page 597.)

Twiggs was appointed a major-general in the Confederate Army, and died
at Augusta, Georgia, on September 15, 1862.

[24] “The correspondent of the ‘Spirit of the Times,’ G. de L., is
Captain [Guy] Henry, of the Third Infantry, a classmate of mine at West
Point, a very good fellow, and I notice his recent productions since
our march from Camargo have been quite spirited.” Meade, _Life and
Letters_, Vol. I, pages 167-168.

[25] “McClellan’s sobriquet in Mexico, among his intimate friends, was
‘Polance’ (sugar). On the march, when [he] first arrived, he insisted
upon eating a lot of the sugar arranged on even cobs and persuading
his companions to eat it too. He was always fond of sweet things. They
all became ill in consequence, and he more than any of them. After
that they addressed him as ‘Polance’ for he kept saying,--‘Why it’s
Polance, the _best_ sugar--it can’t hurt anyone’.” (Note in writing of
McClellan’s daughter, _McClellan Papers_, Vol. 108.)

[26] “Tampico is a delightful place, having fine cafes, and all the
luxuries of a somewhat civilized town.... I find the place much larger
than I expected, and really quite delightful. There is a large foreign
population of merchants, and in consequence the town has all such
comforts as good restaurants, excellent shops, where everything can be
purchased, and is in fact quite as much of a place as New Orleans. It
is inaccessible, owing to a bar, having only eight feet of water, and
as this is the season of ‘Northers,’ already many wrecks have taken
place.” Meade, _Life and Letters_, Vol. I, pages 175 and 177.

[27] “You can form no idea of the pleasure it gave us to meet the
regulars after having been so long with the cursed volunteers.... I
am tired of Tampico for I like to be in motion.--You have no idea of
the charm and excitement of a march--I could live such a life for
years and years without becoming tired of it. There is a great deal of
hardship--but we have our own fun. If we have to get up, and start long
before daybreak--we make up for it, when we gather around the campfires
at night--you never saw such a merry set as we are--no care, no
trouble--we criticize the Generals--laugh and swear at the mustangs and
volunteers, smoke our cigars and drink our brandy, when we have any--go
without when we have none.” (Letter to Mother dated Tampico, February
4, 1847. (_McClellan Papers_, Vol. I.)

[28] The Isle of Lobos is “a lovely little spot, formed entirely of
coral, about two miles in circumference, twelve miles from the Mexican
shore, sixty from Tampico, and one hundred and thirty from Vera Cruz.”
N. C. Brooks, _History of the Mexican War_, page 295.

It was at the Isle of Lobos that General Scott organized his army.
The regulars were divided into two brigades, commanded by Generals
William J. Worth and David E. Twiggs respectively. General Robert
Patterson commanded the division of volunteers which was composed of
the three brigades of Generals Gideon J. Pillow, John A. Quitman and
James Shields. All told, Scott’s army numbered over 12,000 men. J. B.
McMaster, _History of the People of the United States_, Vol. VII, page
506; James Schouler, _History of the United States_, Vol. V, page 42.

[29] The island of Sacrificios, three miles south of Vera Cruz.

[30] William J. Worth was born in Hudson, N. Y., on March 1, 1794. He
fought in the War of 1812 and in the Seminole War in 1841. During the
Mexican War he participated in the campaigns of Generals Taylor and
Scott and later he commanded in Texas. He died at San Antonio, Texas,
on May 17, 1849.

[31] Escopette, a carbine or short rifle, especially a form used by the
Spanish Americans (_Century Dict._).

[32] Light cavalry armed with lances, or long spears, varying from 8½
to 11 feet in length (_Century Dict._).

[33] Pierre G. T. Beauregard, later a prominent Confederate General,
was born in New Orleans on May 28, 1818. He graduated from West Point
in 1838. Died at New Orleans on February 20, 1893.

Beauregard was appointed a brigadier general in the Confederate Army in
1861 and bombarded and captured Fort Sumter in April of the same year.
He commanded at the first battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861, and
following it was promoted to the rank of general. He took part in the
battle of Shiloh in April, 1862, commanded at Charleston, S. C., from
1862 to 1864, and in Virginia in the latter year.

[34] Robert E. Lee, later the celebrated Confederate General-in-Chief
and McClellan’s main adversary. He was born at Stratford, Westmoreland
Co., Virginia, on January 19, 1807, and died at Lexington, Virginia, on
October 12, 1870.

[35] Epaulment, the mass of earth or other material which protects the
guns in a battery both in front and on either flank (_Century Dict._).

[36] Terre-plein, the top, platform or horizontal surface of a rampart,
on which the cannon are placed (_Century Dict._).

[37] Boyau, a ditch covered with a parapet, serving as a means of
communication between two trenches, especially between the first and
third parallels. Also called a zigzag or an approach (_Century Dict._).

[38] Berm, a narrow level space at the outside foot of a parapet, to
retain material which otherwise might fall from the slope into the
ditch (_Standard Dict._).

[39] Colonel Bankhead was the Chief of Artillery at the siege of Vera
Cruz.

[40] General Juan Morales was the Mexican commander at Vera Cruz.

[41] Revet, to face, as an embankment, with masonry or other material
(_Century Dict_.).

[42] Traverse, an earthen mask, similar to a parapet, thrown across the
covered way of a permanent work to protect it from the effects of an
enfilading fire (_Century Dict._).

[43] General Scott “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.... 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.” U. S. Grant, _Memoirs_, Vol. I, pages 138-139.

[44] Vera Cruz at that time was a city of about 15,000 inhabitants.

[45] On the advance of Scott’s army from Vera Cruz, Twiggs led the way,
followed a day later by Patterson, and five days later still by Worth.
J. B. McMaster, _History of the People of the United States_, Vol. VII,
page 507.

[46] Simon B. Buckner was born in Kentucky on April 1, 1823, and died
January 8, 1914. He graduated from West Point in 1844. During the Civil
War he was first a brigadier general, and later a lieutenant general
in the Confederate Army. He stood by his troops and surrendered Fort
Donelson to General Grant on February 16, 1862. After the war he became
Governor of Kentucky and was the candidate for Vice-President on the
Gold Democratic ticket in 1896.

[47] About sixty miles from Vera Cruz, and about thirty from Jalapa. J.
S. Jenkins, _History of the War with Mexico_, page 270.

[48] General Pillow’s brigade consisted of four regiments of
infantry,--1st Tennessee (Colonel Campbell), 2nd Tennessee (Colonel
Haskell), 1st Pennsylvania (Colonel Wynkoop) and 2nd Pennsylvania
(Colonel Roberts); also a detachment of Tennessee Horse and a company
of Kentucky Volunteers under Captain Williams. R. Semmes, _Service
Afloat and Ashore_, page 179.

[49] “The Cerro Gordo, or Big Hill, called by the Mexicans in their
dispatches, _El Telegrafo_, is an immense hill, of a conical form,
rising to the height of near a thousand feet. It stands ... at the head
of the pass, to which it gives its name, and formed the extreme left
(our right) of the fortifications of the enemy.” Semmes, _op. cit._,
pages 176-177.

[50] He commanded the 1st Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers.

[51] He commanded the 2nd Tennessee Volunteers.

[52] James Shields was born in County Tyrone, Ireland, in 1810. After
the Mexican War he was United States Senator (Democrat) from Illinois
during the years 1849-1855, and from Minnesota in 1858-1859. He was
one of the “political generals” in the Union Army who were decisively
defeated by “Stonewall” Jackson during the celebrated “Valley Campaign”
of May and June, 1862. Shields died in Ottumwa, Iowa, on June 1, 1879.

[53] The American forces present at the battle of Cerro Gordo, both
in action and in reserve, were about 8,500 men. The Mexicans were
estimated at 12,000 or more. The American losses in the two days
fighting were 33 officers and 398 men, a total of 431, of whom 63 were
killed. The enemy losses were estimated at 1,000 to 1,200, in addition
to five generals and 3,000 men who were captured. General Scott’s
official report dated “Jalapa, April 23, 1847” (_Senate Docs. 30th
Congress, 1st Session_, No. 1, pages 263-264).

[54] The City of Mexico was surrendered to General Scott’s victorious
army on September 14, 1847.

[55] McClellan left the City of Mexico on May 28, 1848, and reached
West Point, N. Y., on June 22 following.




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:


  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

  Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.