The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 17 · Chapter 12Disunion in America (6)
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The incessant rain rendered it impossible to write down any terms. Abd-el-Kader therefore affixed his seal to a piece of paper, and despatched it in charge of two horsemen to the French general as a sign of authorization on his part for demands to be verbally made. It was Lamoricière who received the two emissaries; and he sent a verbal reply, acceding to all proposals. Abd-el-Kader then sent a letter, and received in reply a written promise and stipulation that the Sultan and his family should be conducted to St. Jean d'Acre or Alexandria. The new Governor-General, the Duc d'Aumale, was close at hand, and on the evening of December 23, 1847, the fallen hero, attended by some of his chiefs and men, escorted by five hundred French cavalry, who showed great respect and sympathy for the captives, arrived at headquarters. Abd-el-Kader, attended by Lamoricière and Cavaignac, was presented to the son of Louis Philippe. The Prince pledged himself that Lamoricière's promise and stipulation should be strictly observed. He knew little that his father's throne was about to fall, and that the decision as to Abd-el-Kader's fate would, within a few weeks, rest in far different hands. The ex-Sultan then withdrew to his deira, which had now joined the French encampment.
On the next morning, December 24th, the Governor-General held a review. His honored prisoner and guest, riding a splendid black charger of the purest Arab breed, and surrounded by his chiefs, awaited his return from the field. When the Prince approached, Abd-el-Kader dismounted and offered his steed as a present in testimony of his gratitude, and expressed the hope that he might always bear his new master in safety and happiness. The Duc d'Aumale replied, "I accept it as a homage rendered to France, the protection of which country will henceforth be ever extended toward you, and as a sign that the past is forgotten."
On December 25th the Algerian hero embarked with his family and followers in a French frigate for Toulon. He had seen the last of his native land. Lamoricière accompanied him on board and supplemented his poor resources with a present of four thousand francs, receiving Abd-el-Kader's sword in return. The Moniteur of January 3, 1848, paid a high tribute to the genius and ascendency of the captive in these words: "The subjugation of Abd-el-Kader is an event of immense importance to France. It assures the tranquillity of our conquest. To-day France can, if necessary, transport to other quarters the hundred thousand men who hold the conquered populations under her yoke."
(1847) THE MEXICAN WAR, John Bonner
When President Polk began his Administration, the United States Government had become involved in two boundary disputes—one relating to Oregon, the other to Texas and Mexico. Out of the latter came the Mexican War, concerning the political causes and merits of which there were then and ever since have been wide differences of opinion among the American people. Polk's election by the Democrats in 1844 had turned mainly upon the question of annexing Texas. Just before he came into office the annexation was made.
Texas claimed as her western boundary the Rio Grande. Mexico held that the western limit was the Nueces. Between the two rivers there was a large area of disputed territory. The Texan claim was opposed by many American statesmen and publicists, and by some was denounced—as the annexation of Texas had been—as an aggressive move against Mexico. But the United States Government supported the cause of Texas. General Zachary Taylor, who had served in the War of 1812, and afterward in several Indian wars, took command of the army in Texas in 1845. In January, 1846, he was ordered to occupy positions on or near the left bank of the Rio Grande del Norte. This order and its execution have been held by some writers to constitute an act of war, but war was not formally declared by the United States till May 11th. Taylor, with a small force, had several slight encounters with Mexican troops, after which he won the battle of Palo Alto (May 8, 1846), near the southern extremity of Texas; and that of Resaca de la Palma (May 9th), also in Texas, four miles north of Matamoros, Mexico. He took possession of Matamoros May 18th. With six thousand men, against about ten thousand Mexicans under Ampudia, Taylor captured Monterey, Mexico (September 24th), and at Buena Vista, February 22-23, 1847, with five thousand troops, he defeated fifteen thousand Mexicans under Santa Anna, then President of Mexico and commander of her army.
The war was now transferred to the district between Vera Cruz and the City of Mexico, the capital, and was henceforth conducted for the United States by General Winfield Scott, whose previous military career had been much the same as General Taylor's. Scott had been made Major-General and Commander-in-Chief of the Army in 1841. His first operation in Mexico was the taking of Vera Cruz, the principal Mexican seaport, on the Gulf of Mexico. With the aid of a fleet he besieged the city in March, 1847, and on the 27th received its surrender. At Cerro Gordo (April 17th and 18th) he won an important victory that opened his way through the mountains toward his objective, the city of Mexico. Reënforcements gradually reached him, and by the first of August he was ready to move on the valley of Mexico with about eleven thousand men. From this stage to the fall of the capital, completing the conquest of the country, Bonner's account gives a graphic recital of events. The city was held by Americans from September 14, 1847, the day they entered it, until the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo (February 2, 1848), which ended the war.
With the energy that characterized Santa Anna throughout the Mexican War, he had prepared for a desperate defence. Civil strife had been silenced, funds raised, an army of twenty-five thousand men mustered, and every precaution taken which genius could suggest or science indicate. Nature had done much for him. Directly in front of the invading army lay the large lakes of Xochimilco and Chalco. These turned, vast marshes, intersected by ditches and for the most part impassable, surrounded the city on the east and the south—on which side Scott was advancing—for several miles. The only approaches were by causeways; and these Santa Anna had taken prodigious pains to guard. The national road to Vera Cruz—which Scott must have taken had he marched on the north side of the lakes—was commanded by a fort mounting fifty-one guns on an impregnable hill called El Peñon. Should he turn the southern side of the lakes, a field of lava, deemed almost impassable for troops, interposed a primary obstacle; and fortified positions at San Antonio, San Angel, and Churubusco, with an intrenched camp at Contreras, were likewise to be surmounted before the southern causeways could be reached. Beyond these there yet remained the formidable castle of Chapultepec and the strong enclosure of Molino del Rey, to be stormed before the city gates could be reached. Powerful batteries had been mounted at all these points, and ample garrisons detailed to serve them. The bone and muscle of Mexico were there.
Goaded by defeat, Santa Anna never showed so much vigor; ambition fired Valencia; patriotism stirred the soul of Alvarez; Canalizo, maddened by the odium into which he had fallen, was boiling to regain his soubriquet of the "Lion of Mexico." With a constancy equal to anything recorded of the Roman Senate, the Mexican Congress, on learning of the defeat at Cerro Gordo, had voted unanimously that anyone opening negotiations with the enemy should be deemed a traitor; and the citizens with one accord had ratified the vote. Within six months Mexico had lost two splendid armies in two pitched battles against the troops now advancing against the capital; but she never lost heart, and her spirit quailed not.
The engineers reporting that the fortress on El Peñon could not be carried without a loss of one-third the army, Scott decided to move by the south of the lakes; and Worth accordingly advanced, leading the van, as far as San Augustin, nine miles from the city of Mexico. There a large field of lava, known as the Pedregal, barred the way. On the one side, two miles from San Augustin, the fortified works at San Antonio commanded the passage between the field and the lake; on the other, the ground was so much broken that infantry alone could advance, and General Valencia occupied an intrenched camp, with a heavy battery, near the village of Contreras, three miles distant. Scott determined to attack on both sides, and sent forward General William J. Worth on the east, and General Gideon J. Pillow and General David E. Twiggs on the west. The latter advanced as fast as possible over the masses of lava on the morning of the 19th, and by 2 P.M. a couple of light batteries were placed in position and opened fire on the Mexican camp.
At the same time General Persifor Smith conceived the plan of turning Valencia's left, and hastened along the path through the Pedregal in the direction of a village called San Jeronimo. Colonel Riley followed. Pillow sent Cadwallader's brigade on the same line, and later in the day Morgan's regiment was likewise despatched toward that point. They drove in the Mexican pickets and skirmishers, dispersed a few parties of lancers, and occupied the village without loss. Seeing the movement, Santa Anna hastened to Valencia's support with twelve thousand men. He was discovered by Cadwallader just as the latter gained the village road; and appreciating the vast importance of preventing a junction between the two Mexican generals, that gallant officer did not hesitate to draw up his brigade in order of battle. So broken was the ground that Santa Anna could not see the amount of force opposed to him, and declined the combat. This was all Cadwallader wanted. Shields's brigade was advancing through the Pedregal, and the troops which had already crossed were rapidly moving to the rear of Valencia's camp. Night too was close at hand. When it fell, Smith's, Riley's, and Cadwallader's commands had gained the point they sought. Shields joined them at ten o'clock; and at midnight Captain Lee crossed the Pedregal, with a message from General Smith to General Scott, to say that he would begin the attack at daybreak next morning.
It rained all night and the men lay in the mud without fires. At three in the morning (August 20th) the word was passed to march. Such pitchy darkness covered the face of the plain that Smith ordered every man to touch his front file as he marched. Now and then a flash of lightning lighted the narrow ravine; occasionally a straggling moonbeam pierced the clouds and shed an uncertain glimmer on the heights; but these flitting guides served only to make the darkness seem darker. The soldiers groped their way, stumbling over stones and brushwood, and did not gain the rear of the camp till day broke. Then Riley bade his men look to the priming of their guns, and reload those which the rain had wet. With the first ray of daylight the firing had begun again between the Mexican camp and Ransom's corps stationed in front and Shields's brigade at San Jeronimo. Almost at the same moment Riley began to ascend the height in the rear. Before he reached the crest, his engineers, who had gone forward to reconnoitre, came running back to say that his advance had been detected, that two guns were being pointed against him, and a body of infantry were sallying from the camp, The news braced the men's nerves. They gained the ridge, and stood a tremendous volley from the Mexicans without flinching. Hanson of the Seventh—a gallant officer and an excellent man—was shot down with many others; but the Mexicans had done their worst.
With steady aim the volley was returned; and ere the smoke rose a cheer rang through the ravine, and Riley fell with a swoop on the intrenchments. With bayonet and butt of musket, the Second and Seventh drove the enemy from his guns, leaping into his camp and slaughtering all before them. Up rushed Smith's own brigade on the left, driving a party of Mexicans before them, and charging with the bayonet straight at Torrejon's cavalry, which was drawn up in order of battle. Defeat was marked on their faces. Valencia was nowhere to be found. Salas strove vainly to rouse his men to defend themselves with energy; Torrejon's horse, smitten with panic, broke and fled at the advance of our infantry. Riley hurled the Mexicans from their camp after a struggle of a quarter of an hour; and as they rushed down the ravine, their own cavalry rode over them, trampling down more men than the bayonet and ball had laid low. On the right, as they fled, Cadwallader's brigade poured in a destructive volley; and Shields, throwing his party across the road, obstructed their retreat and compelled the fugitives to yield themselves prisoners of war. The only fight of any moment had taken place within the camp. There, for a few minutes, the Mexicans had fought desperately; two of our regimental colors had been shot down, but finally Anglo-Saxon bone and sinew had triumphed. To the exquisite delight of the assailants, the first prize of victory was the guns O'Brien had abandoned at Buena Vista, which were regained by his own regiment. Twenty other guns and more than a thousand prisoners, including eighty-eight officers and four generals, were likewise captured, and about fifteen hundred Mexicans killed and wounded. The American loss in killed, wounded, and missing was about one hundred men.
Barely taking time to breathe his troops, Smith followed in pursuit toward the city. By ten o'clock in the morning he reached San Angel, which Santa Anna evacuated as he approached. The General-in-Chief and the generals of division had by this time relieved Smith of his command. Scott rode to the front, and in a few brief words told the men there was more work to be done that day. A loud cheer from the ranks was the reply. The whole force then advanced to Coyacan, within a mile of Churubusco, and prepared to assault the place.
Santa Anna considered it the key to the city, and awaited the attack in perfect confidence with thirty thousand men. The defences were simple. On the west, in the direction of Coyacan, stood the large stone convent of San Pablo, which, as well as the wall and breastworks in front, was filled with infantry, and which contained seven heavy guns. A breastwork connected San Pablo with the tête de pont over the Churubusco River, four hundred yards distant. This was the easternmost point of defence, and formed part of the San Antonio causeway leading to the city. It was a work constructed with the greatest skill—bastions, curtain, and wet ditch, everything was complete and perfect—four guns were mounted in embrasure and barbette, and as many men as the place would hold were stationed there. The reserves occupied the causeway behind Churubusco. Independently of his defences, Santa Anna's numbers—nearly five to one—should have insured the repulse of the assailants.
By eleven—hardly seven hours having elapsed since the Contreras camp had been stormed, five miles away—Twiggs and Pillow were in motion toward the San Antonio causeway. Nothing had been heard of Worth, who had been directed to move along the east side of the Pedregal on San Antonio, but it was taken for granted he had carried the point, and Scott wished to cut off the retreat of the garrison. Twiggs was advancing cautiously toward the convent when a heavy firing was heard in advance. Supposing that a reconnoitring party had been attacked, he hastily sent forward the First Artillery, under Dimmick, through a field of tall corn, to support them. No sooner had they separated from the main body than a terrific discharge of grape, canister, and musketry assailed them from the convent. In the teeth of the storm they advanced to within one hundred yards of that building, and a light battery under Taylor was brought up on their right, and opened on the convent.
More than an hour the gunners stood firm to their pieces under afire as terrible as troops ever endured; one-third of the command had fallen before they were withdrawn. Colonel Riley meanwhile, with the stormers of Contreras, had been despatched to assail San Pablo on the west, and, like Dimmick, was met by a murderous rain of shot. Whole heads of companies were mowed down at once. Thus Captain Smith fell, twice wounded, with every man beside him; and a single discharge from the Mexican guns swept down Lieutenant Easley and the division he led. It was the second time that day the gallant Second had served as targets for the Mexicans, but not a man fell back. General Smith ordered up the Third in support, and these, protecting themselves as best they could behind a few huts, kept up a steady fire on the convent. Sallies from the works were continually made, and as continually repelled, but not a step could the assailants make in advance.
By this time the battle was raging at three different points. Worth had marched on San Antonio that morning, found it evacuated, and given chase to the Mexicans with the Fifth and Sixth Infantry. The causeway leading from San Antonio to the tête de pont of Churubusco was thronged with flying horse and foot; our troops dashed headlong after them, never halting till the advance corps—the Sixth—were within short range of the Mexican batteries. A tremendous volley from the tête de pont in front, and the convent on the flank, then forced them to await the arrival of the rest of the division. This was the fire which Twiggs heard when he sent Dimmick against the convent.
Worth came up almost immediately; and directing the Sixth to advance as best they could along the causeway in the teeth of the tête de pont, despatched Garland's and Clarke's brigades through the fields on the right to attack it in flank. Every gun was instantly directed against the assailants; and though the day was bright and clear, the clouds of smoke actually darkened the air. Hoffman, waving his sword, cheered on the Sixth; but the shot tore and ripped up their ranks to such a degree that in a few minutes they had lost ninety-seven men. The brigades on the right suffered as severely. One hundred men fell within the space of an acre. Still they pressed on, till the Eighth (of Clarke's brigade) reached the ditch. In they plunged, Lieutenant Longstreet bearing the colors in advance; he scrambled out on the other side, dashed at the walls without ladders or scaling implements, and bayoneted the defenders as they took aim. At last, officers and men mixed pell-mell, some through the embrasures, some over the walls, rushed or leaped in and drove the garrison helter-skelter upon their reserves.
The tête de pont gained, its guns were turned on the convent, whence the Mexicans were still slaughtering our gallant Second and Third. Duncan's battery, too, hitherto in reserve, was brought up and opened with such rapidity that a bystander estimated the intervals between the reports at three seconds! Stunned by this novel attack, the garrison of San Pablo slackened fire. In an instant the Third, followed by Dimmick's artillery, dashed forward with the bayonet to storm the nearest bastion. With a run they carried it, the artillery bursting over the curtain; but at that moment a dozen white flags waved in their faces. The whole fortified position of Churubusco was taken.
Meantime, however, a conflict as deadly as either of these was raging behind the Mexican fortifications. Soon after the battle commenced, Scott sent Pierce's and Shields's brigades by the left, through the fields, to attack the enemy in the rear. On the causeway, opposed to them, were planted Santa Anna's reserves—four thousand foot and three thousand horse—in a measure protected by a dense growth of maguey. Shields advanced intrepidly with his force of sixteen hundred. The ground was marshy, and for a long distance—having vainly endeavored to outflank the enemy—his advance was exposed to their whole fire. Morgan, of the Fifteenth, fell wounded. The New York regiment suffered fearfully, and their leader, Colonel Burnett, was disabled. The Palmettos of South Carolina, and the Ninth under Ransom, were as severely cut up; and after a while all sought shelter in and about a large barn near the causeway. Shields, in an agony at the failure of his movement, cried imploringly for volunteers to follow him.
The appeal was instantly answered by Colonel Butler, of the Palmettos: "Every South Carolinian will follow you to the death!" The cry was contagious, and most of the New Yorkers took it up. Forming at angles to the causeway, Shields led these brave men, under an incessant hail of shot, against the village of Portales, where the Mexican reserves were posted. Not a trigger was pulled till they stood at a hundred fifty yards from the enemy. Then the little band poured in their volley, fatally answered by the Mexican host. Butler, already wounded, was shot through the head and died instantly. Calling to the Palmettos to avenge his death, Shields gives the word to charge. They charge—not four hundred in all—over the plain and down upon four thousand Mexicans securely posted under cover. At every step their ranks are thinned. Dickenson, who succeeded Butler in command of the Palmettos, seizes the colors as the bearer falls dead; the next moment he is down himself, mortally wounded, and Major Gladden snatches them from his hand.
Adams, Moragne, and nearly half the gallant band are prostrate. A very few minutes more and there will be no one left to bear the glorious flag.
But at this very moment a deafening roar is heard in the direction of the tête de pont. Round shot and grape, rifle-balls and canister, come crashing down the causeway into the Mexican ranks from their own battery. Worth is there, the gallant fellow, just in time. Down the road and over the ditch, through the field and hedge and swamp, in tumult and panic the Mexicans are flying from the bayonets of the Sixth and Garland's brigade. A shout, louder than the cannon's peal; Worth is on their heels with his men. Before Shields reaches the causeway he is by his side driving the Mexican horse into their infantry, and Ayres is galloping up with a captured Mexican gun. Captain Kearny, with a few dragoons, dashes past, rides straight into the flying host, scatters them right and left, sabres all he can reach, and halts before the gate of Mexico. Not till then does he perceive that he is alone with his little party, nearly all of whom are wounded; but, despite the hundreds of escopetas that are levelled at him, he gallops back in safety to headquarters.
The sun, which rose that morning on a proud army and a defiant metropolis, set at even on a shattered, haggard band, and a city full of woe-stricken wretches who did nothing all night but quake with terror, and cry, at every noise, "Aqui viene los Yanquies!" ("Here come the Yankees!") All along the causeway, and in the fields and swamps on either side, heaps of dead men and cattle intermingled with broken ammunition-carts, marked where the American shot had told. A gory track leading to the tête de pont, groups of dead in the fields on the west of Churubusco, over whose pale faces some stalks of tattered corn still waved; red blotches in the marsh next the causeway, where the rich blood of Carolina and New York soaked the earth, showed where the fire of the heavy Mexican guns and the countless escopetas of the infantry had been most murderous. Scott had lost, in that day's work, more than a thousand men in killed and wounded, seventy-nine of whom were officers. The Mexican loss, according to Santa Anna, was one-third of his army, equal probably to ten thousand men, one-fourth of whom were prisoners, the rest killed and wounded. As the sun went down the troops were recalled to headquarters; but all night long the battlefield swarmed with straggling parties seeking some lost comrade in the cold and rain, and surgeons hurrying from place to place and offering succor to the wounded.
It would have been easy for Scott to march on the city that night, or next morning, and seize it before the Mexicans recovered from the shock of their defeat. Anxious to shorten the war, and assured that Santa Anna was desirous of negotiating; warned, moreover, by neutrals and others, that the hostile occupation of the capital would destroy the last chance of peaceable accommodation and rouse the Mexican spirit to resistance all over the country, the American general consented, too generously perhaps, to offer an armistice to his vanquished foe. It was eagerly accepted, and negotiations were commenced which lasted over a fortnight. In the mean time General Scott had the satisfaction of hanging several of the Irishmen who had deserted to the Mexicans, and, serving as the battalion of San Patricio, had shot down so many of their old comrades at Buena Vista and Churubusco. This act of justice was approved by the army and the nation. Early in September the treachery of the Mexicans became apparent. No progress had been made in the negotiations; and, in defiance of the armistice, an American wagon, proceeding to the city for provisions, had been attacked by the mob and one man killed and others wounded. Scott wrote to Santa Anna, demanding an apology, and threatening to terminate the armistice on the 7th if it were not tendered. The reply was insulting in the extreme; Santa Anna had repaired his losses and was ready for another fight.
On the evening of September 7th Worth and his officers were gathered in his quarters at Tacubaya. On a table lay a hastily sketched map showing the position of the fortified works at Molino del Rey, with the Casa Mata on one side and the castle of Chapultepec on the other. The Molino was occupied by the enemy; there was reason to believe it contained a foundry in full operation, and Worth had been directed to storm it next morning. Over that table bent Garland and Clarke, eager to repeat the glorious deeds of August 20th at the tête de pont of Churubusco; Duncan and Smith, already veterans; Wright, the leader of the forlorn hope, joyfully thinking of the morrow; famous Martin Scott, and dauntless Graham, little dreaming that a few hours would see their livid corpses stretched upon the plain; fierce old M'Intosh, covered with scars; Worth himself, his manly brow clouded, and his cheek paled by sickness and anxiety. Each officer had his place assigned to him in the conflict; and they parted to seek a few hours' rest.
At half-past two on the morning of the 8th the division was astir. 'Twas a bright starlight night whose silence was unbroken as the troops moved thoughtfully toward the battlefield. In front, on the right, about a mile from the encampment, the hewn-stone walls of the Molino del Rey—a range of buildings five hundred yards long, and well adapted for defence—were distinctly visible, with drowsy lights twinkling through the windows. A little farther off, on the left, stood the black pile of the Casa Mata, the arsenal, crenelled for musketry, and surrounded by a quadrangular field work. Beyond the Casa Mata lay a ravine, and from this a ditch and hedge ran, passing in front of both works, to the Tacubaya road. Far on the right the grim old castle of Chapultepec loomed up darkly against the sky. Sleep wrapped the whole Mexican line, and but few words were spoken in the American ranks as the troops took up their respective positions: Garland, with Dunn's battery and Huger's 24-pounders, on the right, against the Molino; Wright, at the head of the stormers, and followed by the light division under Captain Kirby Smith, in the centre; M'Intosh, with Duncan's battery, on the left, near the ravine looking toward the Casa Mata; and Cadwallader, with his brigade, in reserve.
Night still overhung the east when the Mexicans were roused from their slumbers by the roar of Huger's 24-pounders, and the crashing of the balls through the roof and walls of the Molino. A shout arose within their lines, spreading from the ravine to the castle; lights flashed in every direction, bugles sounded, the clank of arms rang from right to left, and every man girded himself for the fray. With the first ray of daylight Major Wright advanced with the forlorn hope down the slope. A few seconds elapsed; then a sheet of flame burst from the batteries, and round shot, canister, and grape hurtled through the air. "Charge!" shouted the leader, and down they went, with double-quick step, over the ditch and hedge, and into the line, sweeping everything before them. The Mexicans fell from their guns, but soon, seeing the smallness of the force opposed to them and reassured by the galling fire poured from the azoteas and Molino on the stormers, they rallied, charged furiously, and drove our men back into the plain. Here eleven out of the fourteen officers of Wright's party, and the bulk of his men, fell killed or wounded. All of the latter who could not fly were bayoneted where they lay by the Mexicans.