ABOUND 
 
 ij4^ P*T. NO. 3, 161. -123 
 
"L I B R_AFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVER.SITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 B 
 
 W191wlh 
 
 ILL. HIST. SURV. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://archive.org/details/hoosierinmexicanOOpubl 
 
A HOOSIER IN THE MEXICAN WAR 
 
 Prepared by the Staff of the 
 
 Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County 
 
 1953 
 
One of a historical series, this pamphlet is published under the di- 
 rection of the governing Boards of the Public Library of Fort Wayne and 
 Allen County. 
 
 BOARD OF TRUSTEES OF THE SCHOOL CITY OF FORT WAYNE 
 
 B. F. Geyer, President 
 Joseph E. Kramer, Secretary 
 W. Page Yarnelle, Treasurer 
 Willard Shambaugh 
 Mrs. Sadie Fulk Roehrs 
 
 PUBLIC LIBRARY BOARD FOR ALLEN COUNTY 
 
 The members of this Board include the members of the Board of 
 Trustees of the School City of Fort Wayne (with the same officers), together 
 with the following citizens chosen from Allen County outside the corporate 
 city of Fort Wayne: 
 
 James E. Graham 
 Arthur Niemeier 
 Mrs. Glenn Henderson 
 Mrs. Charles Reynolds 
 
B 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 Lewis Wallace, commonly known as "Lew" Wallace, was born in 
 Brookville, Indiana, on April 10, 1827; he died at Crawfordsville, Indiana, 
 on February 15, 1905. The son of Governor David Wallace, Lew chose 
 the profession of law. He served in both the Mexican War and the Civil 
 War and retired from the latter conflict with the rank of major general in 
 the Union Army. He was an unsuccessful candidate for Congress in 1870. 
 Later he served as territorial governor of New Mexico and as United States 
 minister to Turkey. 
 
 General Wallace is best known, however, as a popular Hoosier nov- 
 elist. His most widely read books include BEN HUR: A TALE OF THE 
 CHRIST; THE PRINCE OF INDIA; and THE FAIR GOD. In 1906 LEW 
 WALLACE, AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY was published. 
 
 The Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County gratefully ac- 
 knowledges the kind permission of Harper h. Brothers to reproduce verba- 
 tim those chapters from the AUTOBIOGRAPHY which relate the experiences 
 of Lew Wallace in the War with Mexico. 
 
I 
 
 Opens recruiting-office in Indianapolis for volunteers for war with 
 Mexico — The company leaves for New Albany via Edinburg in 
 wagons — Three Indiana regiments encamped at Camp Clark — 
 Colonel Drake — Henry S. Lane — Landing in New Orleans — Gen- 
 eral Jackson — Voyage to Brazos — The turtle — Ship. 
 
 There was much talk in Indianapolis about volun- 
 teering. Other parts of the state were showing activity. 
 I bustled about, interviewing members of the "Greys" 
 and "Arabs." To my argument that the term of ser- 
 vice was short, only one year, some of them, with an 
 earnestness implying personal experience, replied that 
 a year was ample time in which to die. Finally, in fear 
 of the passing of the opportunity, I resolved to open 
 a recruiting -office myself. The town could not more 
 than laugh at me. 
 
 So I took a room on Washington Street and hired a 
 drummer and fifer. Out of the one front window of 
 the building I projected a flag, then a transparency in- 
 scribed on its four faces, " FOR MEXICO. FALL IN." 
 I attacked the astonished public in the street. The first 
 round was productive. A dozen or more young men fell 
 into the procession. Within three days the company 
 was full. 
 
 In the election of officers, James P. Drake was chosen 
 captain and John McDougal first lieutenant. The sec- 
 ond lieutenancy was given to me. Upon acceptation 
 by the governor, we were ordered to the general rendez- 
 vous at New Albany, on the Ohio River. 
 
In addition to the townfolk, the population of the 
 entire country seemed present at our departure from 
 Indianapolis. Lawyer John H. Bradley made an affect- 
 ing farewell address. Mexico was a long way off, and 
 the journey thither beset by dangers of sea and land. 
 There were thousands who shook hands with us as with 
 men never to return. 
 
 We were taken in wagons to Edinburg, up to which 
 a railroad had slowly crawled from Madison. The rail- 
 road is only so called. In reality it was a tramway. 
 
 The solemnities of the public farewell scarcely moved 
 me. That which excited sorrow in others did but stir 
 my imagination. Nevertheless, a circumstance broke 
 me down. We went afoot to the wagons. My father 
 marched with me. He was in the prime of manhood; 
 a soldier by education, he should have been at the head 
 of the whole Indiana contingent. At my side, keeping 
 step with me, he trudged along through the dust. The 
 moment came for me to climb into the wagon. Up to 
 that he had kept silent, which was well enough, seeing 
 I had only to look into his face to know he was proud 
 of me and approved my going; then he took my hand 
 and said: 
 
 " Good-bye. Come back a man." 
 
 Suddenly I gave him a shower of tears. 
 
 On the northern shore of the Ohio, midway between 
 the present cities of Jeffersonville and New Albany, 
 there is a ground famous in history. A wooded island 
 at the foot of the falls used to be its vis-a-vis. There 
 General George Rogers Clark held high revelry after his 
 style, master of all he beheld — a brave, ambitious, pro- 
 fane, drunken, baronial Virginian. There the three In- 
 diana regiments were assembled, organized, equipped, 
 and mustered into the national service, my company 
 being assigned to the First Indiana Infantry, letter 
 
oifar an oli, ^ndioafonk. . 
 
H. The rendezvous was appropriately named Camp 
 Clark. 
 
 In the election of field-officers for my regiment there 
 was but one ticket: for colonel, James P. Drake; for 
 lieutenant-colonel, Christian C. Nave; for major, Henry 
 S. Lane; and there was no scratching. I remember be- 
 ing puzzled by the absence of contest. My experience 
 was then too limited to help me comprehend the bit 
 of furniture called a slate. Here is the slate of that 
 day: Brigadier-General, Joseph Lane, Democrat; Colo- 
 nel, First Regiment, James P. Drake, Democrat; Colo- 
 nel, Second Regiment, William H. Bowles, Democrat; 
 Colonel, Third Regiment, James H. Lane, Whig. Cer- 
 tainly the able Democratic governor knew how to pro- 
 vide for himself and his party. 
 
 Sergeant Charles C. Smith, a school-mate, fine-look- 
 ing and clever, was by my nomination promoted to the 
 vacant first lieutenancy, McDougal becoming captain. 
 As a rule, jealousies among men come with years and 
 competition. 
 
 The three field-officers are now in their graves. Nei- 
 ther of them selected could have carried his company 
 through the manual of arms. 
 
 Colonel Drake was rich in good-nature — possibly too 
 much so. He had a presence, however, to excite re- 
 spect, especially on horseback, and an uncommon apti- 
 tude for tactics. In three months he had mastered the 
 " School of the Battalion," according to Scott, whose sys- 
 tem was then in force, and brought his command into 
 excellent drill and discipline. In the rush to the color- 
 line under alarm, his face would redden and shine like 
 a harvest moon; and then, in the wake-up by the long 
 roll at dead of night, his voice was wonderfully cheer- 
 ing. Ultimately he emigrated to Georgia and ended 
 his days there an honored and useful citizen. 
 
 8 
 
The command and its responsibilities never devolved 
 on Major Henry S. Lane. Successful at the bar and in 
 politics, 1 he was singularly careless as a soldier. On 
 parade he often appeared with his sword and sword-belt 
 in hand. He hated a horse : so that on the march his 
 saddle was always pre-emptible by the sick and foot- 
 sore. For a shirk he had the eyes of a detective. In 
 his kindness, even, he was reserved and dignified. No 
 one knew better than he that with volunteers, at least, 
 respect for an officer is more essential than fear. He 
 was the soul of honor and brave to a fault; and so was 
 he esteemed by the regiment that his indifference to 
 formalities, though sometimes laughed at, was always 
 forgiven. 
 
 The company officers were far above the average. 
 Some of them were remarkable men. Captain Robert 
 Milroy, in the Civil War a major-general, dubbed by 
 his division "Gray Eagle," must be mentioned with 
 particularity. A graduate of the Partridge Military 
 School, then next to West Point in reputation, he was 
 one of the very few whom I have met actually lovers 
 of combat. Eager, impetuous, fierce in anger, he was 
 a genuine colonel of cavalry. In fence with sabres his 
 wrist was like flexible steel; besides which he had a 
 reach to make another swordsman, though ever so skil- 
 ful, chary of engaging him. This I know, having been 
 one of a class under his instruction. 
 
 I have dealt somewhat elaborately with the few 
 officers named in order that the verve of the regiment 
 may be understood. At the end of six months it could 
 have been depended upon for heroic action under the 
 most adverse circumstances — and, as will be seen, the 
 remark is not made conjecturally. Few commands 
 
 1 Henry S. Lane was afterwards governor of Indiana and United 
 States senator. 
 
have been subjected to trials so bitter; yet it did not 
 weaken or falter in discipline. 
 
 On July 5th rations were issued and the arms and ac- 
 coutrements stowed in the hold; then, with colors flying 
 and " Yankee Doodle " from fife and drum, we marched 
 aboard the steamboat chartered to take us to New 
 Orleans. There were many of the regiments with som- 
 bre countenances; probably they had a better appre- 
 ciation of the hazards to which we were going; but for 
 my part the situation was full of joyances. Now, in- 
 deed, I was a soldier. My name was on the roster and 
 the national uniform on my back; the surroundings, all 
 martial, kept me reminded of the life at last certainly 
 arrived. 
 
 I have made voyages since, some of them on the seas 
 to far countries, when every hour was charged with 
 novelties and delights unspeakable; yet they were as 
 views by moonlight pale in comparison with this one, 
 so full of the zest of youth that even the Mississippi 
 River was beautiful and its low-lying ugliness of flood 
 and forest successions of miraculous mirage. Mexico, 
 the land of Montezuma and Cortes, and its people, and 
 the campaign through palmetto lands and wide pas- 
 turas, and battles and the taking of cities — I was to 
 see them — all else faded into the commonplace. 
 
 At New Orleans we were landed below the city to 
 wait for ships. There we had our introduction to 
 soldier life, mask off. Of dry ground there was not 
 enough for a bed. We had not a wisp of straw. Our 
 blankets turned into blubbery slime. The officers were 
 responsible. They should have held on to the steamers. 
 
 Along with the rest, I was wretched until an old ne- 
 gro peddling eggs and chickens visited us. He told me 
 casually that we were occupying a portion of the field 
 Andrew Jackson turned into a garden of glory in 1815. 
 
 10 
 
Then I hired him as a guide. The battle-ground was 
 more interesting to me than the city. Where was the 
 breastwork of cotton? Where did Jackson's line begin 
 on the right? In what direction did it stretch? That 
 line fixed, I had the key to the fight; standing on it, I 
 faced the British assaults, and in the patriotic indul- 
 gence of fancy cared not a whit whether I was on a 
 slippery tussock or knee -deep in water. Four killed 
 here; two red-coated thousands yonder! Sir Edward 
 could have afforded a month of manoeuvring for some 
 other point of attack than this one. His haughtiness 
 was a piece with Braddock's; so was the penalty. 
 
 Three ships were at last warped to the bank of the 
 river; then, getting our mouldy regimental properties 
 stowed, we thanked God for a blessed deliverance and 
 sailed for Brazos Santiago, on the other side of the gulf. 
 
 A Baltimore clipper-built brig, new, sweet-smelling, 
 clean, and fast, was assigned to Company H and two 
 others, Lieutenant-Colonel Nave in command. The sea 
 has always been kind to me. Throughout the transit I 
 kept the deck without a qualm of the terrible mat de 
 mer ; and when, in the second night out, the lights of 
 Brazos rose to view, I saw them with downright regret. 
 
 Of that outing — there may be too much familiarity 
 in the word — there remain to me two distinct recollec- 
 tions. One of an enormous turtle on its back on the 
 deck under a tarpaulin. To my landsman's eye the 
 creature was a curiosity of itself; what stamped it on 
 my memory, however, was the use and treatment to 
 which it was put. Twice each day of the voyage the 
 cook resorted to it to supply the officers' table — in the 
 morning for steak, in the afternoon for soup — and when 
 we landed the animal was alive. 
 
 The moonlight of the nights was of a whiteness to 
 shut out the stars. Once I was roused from sleep and 
 
 II 
 

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brought to my feet thrilled through and through. A 
 strange object within pistol-shot was moving swiftly in 
 a direction the opposite of ours. It seemed indefinitely 
 large and high. The silence of its going deepened the 
 mystery. It acted as if self-controlled. Then I realized 
 that it was permitted me to see a spectacle fast disap- 
 pearing, and the most imposing and majestic of the 
 apparitions of the sea — a three-mast merchantman, full- 
 rigged, every sail set, and laden so deep that the light 
 waves gave it no lateral motion. On it went, glacial 
 white, mountain high, deathly still, a spectral, glid- 
 ing glory of moonlit space. Whence was it? Whither 
 bound? Whom did it serve? It passed, vanished, 
 and made no sign. When now and then the curious 
 ask me of the beautiful things I have seen, even the 
 most beautiful, I astonish them by honoring that ship. 
 My standards of the sublime are few — it is one of them. 
 
II 
 
 Brazos — Death of Reck — The camp at the mouth of the Rio Grande 
 — Sickness — Suffering — Burials — Major Lane appeals to General 
 Taylor for relief. 
 
 The brig laid off shore during the night. Next morn- 
 ing, early, I went on deck to take a look at Brazos. An 
 inlet scarce wider than a canal let into a bay three or 
 four miles wide. On the farther shore of the bay a snow- 
 white tower of fair elevation arose apparently out of 
 the water. The tower I came to know as a light-house 
 on Point Isabel, General Taylor's base of operations 
 against Matamoras. A chain of low dunes or shifting 
 sand-hills ran parallel with the beach, hiding the land- 
 scape behind it; and the dunes were naked, except that 
 here and there a vine sprawled itself out too verdureless 
 to cast a shadow. One hut, with a chimney of barrels, 
 half buried in a sea of driftage, and curtained round- 
 about by hides drying in the wind and sun, was all 
 that spoke of human habitation. There, they told me, 
 Padre Island terminated, while all south of the inlet 
 constituted Brazos de Santiago. No town, no grass, 
 not a tree. Heavens, what an awakening! 
 
 Now, I did not keep a diary, and it is too late to in- 
 vent one — this in relief of all who follow me through 
 these pages. But my memory serves me respecting 
 two orders — the first one from Brigadier-General Lane, 
 and it sent us to Camp Belknap, ten miles above the 
 mouth of the Rio Grande. 
 
 There I went one day to the river. With me were 
 
 14 
 
Luther Reck and John Anderson, who had been for 
 years my closest companions. Indeed, they enlisted to 
 be with me as much as anything else. At home we 
 had been given to the "dare" habit; and the deeper 
 the water, the thinner the ice, the longer the run, the 
 hotter the blaze, the more certain the challenge, which 
 had with us an unlikeness to the ordinary practice in 
 that the challenger was bound to go first. 
 
 The Rio Grande nearing the gulf is always angry- 
 looking. That day it was in flood. We stood idling 
 awhile on the bank. The sun was at noon, and hot. 
 Then Anderson, "What do you say to a swim?" 
 "No," I answered, "this is not White River." 
 Then he, old-time-like, "I dare you to follow me." 
 Our clothes were off in an instant. Anderson plunged 
 in first. I called to them to go with the current di- 
 agonally. The pull was long and trying. At last we 
 drew to the opposite shore, Reck behind, but striking 
 out vigorously. All at once he screamed. We looked 
 back in time to see him rise half out of the water, then 
 sink. I marked the spot, and, with Anderson, made for 
 it. The drowning generally rise twice; so we swam 
 round and back and forth — uselessly, we never saw our 
 friend again. He had gone down cramp-struck — down 
 like a stone never to rise. We reported his loss in camp 
 and to his mother, and it was many weeks before we, 
 the survivors, recovered spirits enough to talk of the 
 death. I doubt if Anderson ever forgot that he was 
 the challenger. 
 
 The second order — from General Taylor, then in head- 
 quarters at Matamoras — sent the regiment into gar- 
 rison at the mouth of the Rio Grande. 
 
 It is not amiss for me to say here that I accept the 
 wisdom of the dispensations generally accredited to 
 God as among the highest proofs of His being and good- 
 
 15 
 

 
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ness. Had we known in advance — I speak illustrative- 
 ly — what all of misery and humiliation there was await- 
 ing us in that camp to which we now marched, I think 
 it not unlikely that despair would have unloosed every 
 bond of discipline and sunk our eight hundred good 
 men into an ungovernable mob. In all my reading of 
 American wars, the colonial included, I cannot recall 
 another instance of a command so wantonly neglected 
 and so brutally mislocated. A description may be use- 
 ful. If it prove unpleasant reading, I make no apology. 
 They to take arms hereafter should have a standard by 
 which to measure the worst conditions possible to their 
 service. 
 
 The camp, it is to be said, was not of our choosing. 
 We inherited it from the First Mississippi Volunteers, 
 Colonel Jefferson Davis commanding. As we marched 
 in, they took to steamboats going up the river. I re- 
 member yet the sense of desolateness that shocked me 
 viewing the place for the first time. 
 
 On the right of the camp, defending it from the sea, 
 were sand-dunes like those at Brazos; its left was a few 
 hundred yards in remove from the river; on the north 
 it faced a reach of land level as a floor, treeless, ap- 
 parently interminable, and subject to overflow by the 
 tides. Across the river a ragged Mexican hamlet nick- 
 named "Bagdad" harbored a band of smugglers. The 
 landing, calling it such, afforded mooring for vessels, 
 mostly lighters. Occasionally a steamboat came down 
 from Matamoras, staying long enough to take on sup- 
 plies. From Brazos the mails were sent to Point Isabel, 
 thence to headquarters, wherever that might be, leav- 
 ing delivery to us a thing of chance. McGahan, I think 
 it is, describes the Kirghiz out of the world, as were 
 we — only they were nomads, i 
 
 All the drinking-water to bi had was from the river, 
 
 17 
 
a tepid mixture about thirty per cent, sand and the 
 rest half yellow mud. Against the purgative effect of 
 a full draught there was nothing available except a 
 pill of opium. 
 
 The ration, of tri-weekly issue, consisted of beans, 
 coffee, sugar, pickled pork, and flour or biscuit; no veg- 
 etables — not even onions. The biscuits, disk-shaped 
 and alive with brown bugs, were often subjects of 
 sarcastic play — the men on inspection frequently sub- 
 stituted pieces of them for gun -flints. Occasionally 
 parties went hunting, returning sometimes with a mav- 
 erick over-ripened in the portage home; our main re- 
 liance for fresh meat was shrimps taken in the river. 
 
 A monotony descended upon the camp — a monotony 
 unrelieved as an arctic night, as telling on the spirit 
 as the blue mist of the plague Weyman tells of in his 
 Gentleman of France. Now and then we heard of opera- 
 tions by General Taylor. A steamboat-man would stray 
 in among us with the news. General Taylor had set out 
 from Matamoras for the up-country; then had taken 
 Camargo, the enemy having abandoned it; and there- 
 after, with a regiment in garrison at Matamoras, there 
 was not the slightest need of us where we were — none 
 earthly. A post-guard of twenty men would have been 
 ample to hold the mouth of the Rio Grande, admit- 
 ting it an indispensable depot of supplies. Occasionally, 
 too, an inspector came down and took a snap-look at 
 our tents from the guard of his steamer. So, directly, 
 there was not a soul among us so simple as not to see 
 that we were practically in limbo; then, to complete 
 the wretchedness of the situation, a disease planted it- 
 self in our midst. 
 
 A vulgar name and anticlimacteric, I grant; yet he 
 who has seen a man sicken and die of chronic diarrhoea 
 shall always shudder at the name, though he live a 
 
 18 
 
hundred years. How the scourge got into our camp, 
 whether by the river, or by the spoiled pork we ate, 
 calling it meat, or by the bad cookery which was the 
 rule with the messes, or by all these causes in combina- 
 tion, which I think the most likely, were idle conject- 
 uring. Not less idle would it be saying this one or that 
 was responsible for its introduction. Let me rather tell 
 how it wrought upon us. 
 
 The soldier may have been in perfect health the day 
 we went into the camp, which, singularly, was never 
 named; at roll-call, three weeks having passed, I notice 
 a change in his appearance. His cheeks have the tinge 
 of old gunny-sacks; under the jaws the skin is ween and 
 flabby; his eyes are filmy and sinking; he moves listless- 
 ly; the voice answering the sergeant is flat; instead of 
 supporting the gun at order arms, the gun is support- 
 ing him. Observing the signs, I know without asking 
 that he has been to the surgeon, and that the surgeon 
 gave him an opium pill — I know it from knowing that 
 in the meagre schedule of medicines at command there 
 is no other corrective for diarrhoea. Another week and 
 his place in the ranks is vacant. A messmate an- 
 swers for him. No need of looking for him in the hos- 
 pital. The post is a fixed one, yet there is no hospital 
 of any kind. It will go hard with him, one of six in 
 a close tent, nine feet by nine, for the night will not 
 bring him enough of blessed coolness to soothe the 
 fever made burning through the day. His comrades 
 not themselves sick are his nurses. They do their best, 
 but their best is wanting, not least in the touch which 
 every man once mortally ailing recollects as the divine 
 belonging of mother or wife. A delicacy of any sort 
 would be a relief; he prays for it pitifully, and they bring 
 him the very food which laid him on his back in the 
 first instance — bean-soup, unleavened slapjacks, and 
 
 19 
 
bacon. Another week and he is giving his remnant of 
 strength to decency. At last he has no vigor left; 
 mind and will are down together; the final stage is come, 
 and — the pen refuses to go on. 
 
 As to the loss of life, I cannot give the number. There 
 were days when a dress parade with two hundred pres- 
 ent was encouraging — weeks when funerals were so mul- 
 tiplied upon us that the hours between sunup and sun- 
 down were too few — that is, for the customary honors. 
 Then night was drawn upon. There is no forgetting, 
 try as I will, the effect of the dead-march rendered on 
 fife and muffled drum at night, heard first faintly and 
 scarcely distinguishable from the distant monotone of 
 breakers. And if, as sometimes happened, the corpo- 
 ral led his squad just outside my tent, the hour and 
 the hush and darkness turned the music into a stun- 
 ning tremolo of thunder. 
 
 Nor did our trials end always with the end of the sick 
 man's life. The supply of lumber for coffins was soon 
 exhausted; so were the gunboxes and staves of cracker 
 barrels to which we next resorted; a little later we were 
 driven to the use of blankets for shrouds. And even 
 then the poor men were not always allowed their natural 
 rest in the sands of the dunes where we laid them, for 
 the winds, blowing fitfully, now a "norther," now from 
 the gulf, thought nothing, it seemed, of uncovering a 
 corpse and exposing it naked. 
 
 Skill in pathology is not required to divine the effect 
 of such conditions upon the men. Probably there were 
 not ten of them in the regiment who had seen the ocean 
 or any part of it before taking ship at New Orleans. 
 For a while to walk along the beach, to chase the crabs 
 and be in turn chased by the breakers, to gather shells 
 and dissect the stranded nautili was jolly fun, being 
 all so strange. But the fun was short-lived, and when 
 
 20 
 
it wore out there was nothing left to do except specu- 
 late upon what was to become of them. 
 
 Once in a while some other regiment would come from 
 Brazos. The sight of them marching by, flags flying, 
 drums beating, and hurrying aboard boats as if they 
 smelled the contagion in our camp or feared an order 
 for them to stop and take our place, was maddening, 
 and presently led to a general belief that we were victims 
 of an unfriendly discrimination at headquarters of the 
 army or that there were traitors among us. Still — and 
 I write it with becoming loyalty — there was never a 
 round-robin or a refusal of duty, never so much as a 
 military propriety disregarded. 
 
 As to responsibility for all this suffering and death, I 
 only know it was wrong to blame Colonel Drake. All 
 in his power to do towards saving the well from fall- 
 ing sick and the sick from dying he did. One day — it 
 was when General Taylor was at Matamoras — the colonel 
 sent for Major Lane. I heard the conversation between 
 them. 
 
 The colonel said : " Surgeon J s has just been here 
 
 to report that the supply of medicines with which he 
 started from New Orleans is almost gone, and that his 
 repeated requisitions for more have received no atten- 
 tion. If kept here much longer, he says the sick will all 
 die. The condition is too bad. I am ready to try an 
 unsoldierly thing." 
 
 "What is that?" the major asked. 
 
 "To go to Matamoras and see General Taylor." 
 
 "Without leave?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The major shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 "What will you say to him?" 
 
 "That there is no reason in keeping the regiment 
 here, now that Matamoras is ours. I think he should 
 
 21 
 
know, too, exactly what its condition is. There cer- 
 tainly can be no harm, then, in asking General Taylor 
 to let us go up the river with the column of advance, 
 or, at least, change to a more healthful camp." 
 
 The major answered, promptly: "Very well. I will 
 go with you, if you say so." 
 
 They went next day. The major's plea, it was said, 
 was unusually fervid. Unfortunately, the general was 
 not used to such eloquence; either that, or to his per- 
 ceptions, dulled by long service, the solicitation was as 
 much a military offence as outright protest. Anyhow, 
 we were left to our misery, 
 
Ill 
 
 The march to Monterey — Attempt to go with the army — Paris C. 
 Dunning — An instructor in tactics — The episode with Stipp. 
 
 General Taylor, as I now remember, set out from 
 Matamoras against Monterey in September. Up to 
 the last minute I persisted in believing he would take 
 the First Indiana along with him. At length a man 
 of the commissariat gave the coup de grace to my hope. 
 He told me in an interview that the army already under 
 orders to move was greater than could be well supplied 
 beyond Camargo. To Colonel Drake he showed mem- 
 oranda of an estimate of rations for the expedition pared 
 down to the narrowest limit. A little figuring on the 
 basis of the estimate was conclusive. We had been left 
 out. 
 
 It is hard for me now to understand the state of 
 mind into which I then fell. The operations of the 
 army filled my thought. My imagination painted them 
 in the most exaggerated colors. The route would lead 
 hundreds of miles into the interior of the country, by 
 rivers, along fertile plains, over mountains, through 
 villages and towns, ending at the City of Mexico, said 
 to be the most beautiful capital in the world. There 
 would, of course, be opposition and occasionally a battle. 
 By report the people inland were superior to such as 
 we were meeting on the frontier, and the superiority 
 kept increasing in steady ratio. If my fancy disdained 
 the soberness of fact, if it permitted no suggestion of 
 danger or defeat, if it wilfully converted deserts into 
 
 23 
 
gardens, and adobe towns into fair Sevilles, it should 
 be remembered apologetically that my story of The 
 Man -at -Arms had been of Spain and Spaniards, and 
 that in the manuscript of my new work I had left Cortes 
 on the causeway about to make his first entrance into 
 Tenochtitlan. 
 
 To this mood, of the intensity of which I was not at 
 all conscious, I lay one of the most serious of the follies 
 marking my beginning. 
 
 There are young fellows who should be kept apart, 
 a continent between them; unfortunately, the reasons 
 for keeping them apart are generally reasons for their 
 
 coming together. Such were Charley and I. He 
 
 was a second lieutenant, like myself, though a trifle 
 older. He, too, had an almost insane desire to see a 
 battle; our conferences upon the subject had been lat- 
 terly of daily occurrence. I went to him now with the 
 intelligence that our regiment was to be left out, and 
 said that to be in at the taking of Monterey we must 
 cut loose and do for ourselves. He agreed with me. 
 Then, to raise money for the venture, we decided to sell 
 our pay accounts to date. The sutler, we thought, 
 would be happy to discount them. If we could not get 
 passage on a boat, we could buy horses and overtake 
 the cavalry who were to march overland. 
 
 Now nothing could have been more certain than that 
 our appearance with troops anywhere would have led 
 to inquiry and to our instant arrest as deserters. We 
 considered that possibility — so much is due to our 
 common-sense — but agreed that it was one of the risks 
 of the scheme. We argued, also, that we were going 
 with the army, not away from it. 
 
 The sutler upon whom we waited offering to sell our 
 pay accounts was Paris C. Dunning, whose portrait may 
 be seen in the gallery of governors, part of the state 
 
 24 
 
library at Indianapolis, a rare presentment of intelli- 
 gence and amiability. He heard us in his private tent; 
 and when we were through he gave way to a violent fit 
 of laughter, as he well might; becoming serious present- 
 ly, he refused peremptorily to buy our accounts; then, 
 after lecturing us upon the enormity of the military of- 
 fence we were contemplating, the results of which would 
 be disgrace to our families and friends, he concluded: 
 "Now, young gentlemen, if you pledge me your words 
 of honor to drop this project, your coming to me shall 
 never be known; if you refuse, I will at once notify 
 Colonel Drake. I give you three minutes for decision." 
 
 We looked at each other a moment. Each saw that 
 without money the journey was impossible, and that 
 there was no person else in camp of whom we could 
 safely ask it. We tried to laugh; he was serious; and 
 directly we gave him the parole. He kept the faith 
 with us, and I still hold him in grateful recollection. 
 
 The snubbing Colonel Drake and Major Lane had 
 from General Taylor must have been a severe trial to 
 those worthy officers. Nevertheless, thinking the regi- 
 ment would be better of employment as a diversion from 
 its hard conditions, the colonel had published hours of 
 service, requiring squad and company drills in the fore- 
 noon and battalion drills in the afternoon. Then, cu- 
 riously, I dropped into disfavor with the men of my 
 company — in plainer speech, I became desperately un- 
 popular. 
 
 Our arm, it will be recalled, was a heavy muzzle- 
 loading musket of Revolutionary pattern, and the tac- 
 tics (Scoffs Infantry) smothered by details. Only a 
 student with positive aptitude could master the latter. 
 Loading, for instance, other than at will, was by twelve 
 commands. If, on this account, there was need of pa- 
 tience on the part of an instructor, how much greater 
 
 25 
 
>*«, 
 
 Jfc mmk m m m§ 4>m@£e Wif «, 
 
the need on the part of the soldier, out in the sun, his 
 person swathed in a closely buttoned woollen coat over- 
 laid with three broad belts — one at the waist, the others 
 crossing his breast and back! Imagine the man listen- 
 ing with attention, his blood at boiling-pitch! It turned 
 out, in short, that my superior company officers had 
 neither taste nor inclination to attempt the tactics, 
 and they threw the duty of instructing the company 
 upon me. 
 
 The progress made won me compliments. Had I 
 been older, my intentions would have been credited to 
 me ; but men do not like being taught by boys, so it be- 
 fell as said — I became generally odious, and there were 
 threats of shooting me. The circumstance was the 
 more regretful because I was then too inexperienced to 
 know that the anger which caused my fall is a malady 
 peculiar to recruits — a malady less serious because it 
 eventually cures itself. 
 
 This, to my great relief, did not last. The incident 
 which restored me to favor is stranger even than the 
 circumstance that caused its loss. 
 
 The up-country ten or fifteen miles from our camp 
 was all a saline plain broken here and there by what we 
 called islands. These, rising abruptly from the dead 
 level twenty or thirty feet, and a mile or two across, 
 were covered with a rank growth of vines, shrubs, and 
 pretentious trees, the verdure of which furnished crop- 
 ping for wild cattle the year round. They were also 
 good haunts for Mexican guerillas, who, sneaking across 
 the river, were occasionally seen on our side. 
 
 Now, I was of those who when off duty killed time 
 hunting — it was such a relief to get away from the 
 horrors which locked the regiment in so terribly. 
 
 An account having reached me of an island unusual- 
 ly large, with vegetation more than semi-tropical and a 
 
 27 
 
spring of cool, white water at one side, I thought it too 
 distant for the easy-going forager, and that possibly it 
 might be stocked with game enough to pay. So, with 
 four men and the necessary leave, I set out one day to 
 try it. We provided ourselves with guns and cartridges, 
 a frying-pan, a coffee-pot, haversacks well filled, and 
 three canteens of water to the man. Just as we passed 
 the line of sentinels private Perry Stipp came up and 
 asked to go with us. 
 
 Stipp, it is for the saying now, was physically and 
 morally a bogie who ought not to have passed muster. 
 He was humped before and behind, had arms like a 
 gorilla, eyes limpidly blue, a fighter unwhipped, the 
 bulldozer of the regiment. More particularly, he was 
 ringleader in the war on me; and in threatening to kill 
 me he had not thought it needful to speak privately. 
 The colonel had been advised to discharge him as a 
 lunatic who might some day take it into his head to 
 run amuck. In fairness, however, the advice was not 
 mine. 
 
 I looked Stipp in the eyes, thinking of his threats, 
 and told him to provide himself as we were and over- 
 take us. Whatever his motive in asking to go with 
 me, it seemed a good time to have it out with him, only 
 I should be careful. 
 
 The men, glad like myself to get away from camp, 
 talked freely while we were going — all except Stipp, 
 and him I kept in front, always in eye. About four 
 o'clock the island we were seeking rose in sight. A pro- 
 fusion of palmettos, both cabbage-head and of the fan 
 variety, gave it character. It was also bolder in eleva- 
 tion and of broader spread. 
 
 " Hello!" 
 
 This was from Stipp — his first word. We all stopped. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 28 
 
"There— don't you see?" 
 
 Some men came out of the thicket on the edge of the 
 bluff. There were sombreros among them, and parti- 
 colored ponchos, and guns glistened distinctly. 
 
 "Mexicans," Stipp said next, bringing his gun to 
 the ground. I caught his eyes, bright and steady as 
 candles burning in a well, and knew, instinct inter- 
 preting, that he thought he had me in a corner. It 
 was for me to say forward or back; if back, my standing 
 was gone. I resolved to turn the table and try him. 
 
 "Are they Mexicans?" I asked. 
 
 "I should say so," Kise answered, speaking for the 
 party. 
 
 "And there are twenty of them, at least," Edwards 
 added. 
 
 "Well," I said, "if there are so many armed Mexicans 
 near camp as this, the colonel should know it. Now 
 you four stay here, ready to make for camp — Stipp, you 
 and I will go on." 
 
 A queerish expression which I took for doubt or sur- 
 prise appeared on his face; but he raised his gun and 
 we started. 
 
 "Look!" he said, as if I were not looking. 
 
 The party on the bluff disappeared; after which they 
 were to be imagined in ambush. 
 
 Two hundred yards from where the unknown were 
 last seen — and not a shot. Were they making sure 
 of us? 
 
 One hundred yards. My flesh began to crawl. Stipp's 
 teeth were clinched. 
 
 Now we were at the foot of the bluff, and it was time 
 for the finale. Then Stipp stopped. 
 
 "Not here, Stipp," I said, knowing his nerve going. 
 "We are dead men if we stop here." 
 
 He fell in behind me. 
 
 29 
 
U. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 ^a/o 
 
 Knl<g £&^ 
 
The ascent was difficult, and on the top — nobody. 
 With my cap I waved come on to the four still where 
 they had been left. 
 
 They joined us and we all set out to find the Mexicans. 
 The sun was going down when we reached the brink of 
 the island on the opposite side to that by which we had 
 come. Then we noticed a smoke rising. Creeping on, 
 and looking down from the height, we saw a party from 
 our own regiment out hunting like ourselves. We had 
 magnified their number nearly a third. Some of them 
 wore sombreros and blankets Mexican in style. They 
 had found the spring, and were making coffee and roast- 
 ing veal for supper. We joined them, of course. 
 
 In camp a few days afterwards there was a row and 
 an arrest. I inquired about them. Some one had 
 opened on me in Stipp's presence, and he thrashed the 
 man so he had to be carried off. Stripp also gave notice 
 to everybody who didn't like Wallace that he was for 
 him. 
 
 That was enough. The wind veered and blew my 
 way again. 
 
IV 
 
 The march to Walnut Springs — The church robbery at Cervalvo — 
 The inquiry — The doctor's confession on the return. 
 
 At last General Robert Patterson set foot in the 
 camp at the mouth of the Rio Grande, and, after an 
 informal review of the regiment, gave Colonel Drake 
 an order in writing to proceed to Walnut Springs near 
 Monterey, where General Taylor had headquarters. 
 
 To Camargo by river about two hundred and ten 
 miles. From Camargo by land to Walnut Springs one 
 hundred and eighty miles. The sick to be left in hos- 
 pital at Matamoras. It may be believed when that 
 programme was published there was celebration, every 
 man according to his bent — the religiously disposed 
 thanking God, while those of another tendency has- 
 tened to the sutlers for flowing bowls. It may be be- 
 lieved, also, that there was not an hour lost in getting 
 away from the scourged post. As we had relieved the 
 First Mississippi, the Second Mississippi relieved us — 
 but not to stay. 
 
 When my father bade me, in the farewell at Indianap- 
 olis, to come home a man, I am sure he did not leave 
 the injunction with me thinking I could so far forget 
 him or myself as to become a party to the robbery of a 
 church. That, however, was exactly what happened 
 at the town of Cervalvo on the road from Camargo to 
 Monterey. The story will be admirably illustrative of 
 two phases of life — one, how a man can involuntarily aid 
 
 32 
 
and abet in the commission of a crime shocking to none 
 more than to himself; the other, the degree to which 
 enthusiasm in the practice of an honorable profession 
 can pervert one's moral nature. 
 
 Cervalvo, on account of its fame for beauty, was one 
 of the inspiring promises of the country between Ca- 
 margo and Monterey; and on reaching it the promise 
 was so generously realized that a day of rest was taken 
 there. I still recollect how, being unused to mountains, 
 those about that site seemed to glorify the earth. Nor 
 did I wonder less at the inhabitants showing no alarm 
 at sight of us. Indeed, I could not understand them 
 until it was explained that there was a padre up in the 
 cathedral, a really holy man, who exercised a kind of 
 paternal government over the members of his diocese, 
 and had such influence that they only knew of the war 
 by standing in their doors and seeing the armies go by. 
 
 We had with us a contract surgeon from Georgia — 
 Macon, I believe — educated, agreeable, unusually gifted 
 in smothering his "r's" — a veritable Knight of the 
 Dissecting Table. His references had been excellent. 
 
 Shortly after it was given out that the regiment would 
 remain at Cervalvo for the day, the doctor came and 
 proposed to me that we go and see the cathedral, an 
 overture to which I was the more willing because the 
 padre had already called on the colonel with an inter- 
 preter, and, while paying his respects, considerately 
 said he would be pleased if the officers would do him the 
 honor to walk through the house. It was quite old, 
 and he was confident the pictures would interest them. 
 
 The air that morning being of the mountain variety, 
 I put on an overcoat, while the doctor wrapped him- 
 self in a cloak of dark cloth. 
 
 At the door we were met by a Mexican, bareheaded, 
 clothed from head to foot in a gown tied at the waist. 
 
 33 
 
He could not speak English nor we Spanish. I was 
 afterwards told he was not a priest, but a custodian 
 called sacristan. The first thing he would have us see 
 was a room on the right of the door of entrance. We 
 found it spacious, well lighted, scrupulously clean, cold, 
 and unfurnished except with a table on which, under 
 a glass cover globular at the top, there was a human 
 skull. I noticed on being taken to the table that the 
 guide twice crossed himself, from which it was a fair 
 inference that the relic was of special sanctity. Why 
 it was so he could not tell us, though he tried to with 
 earnestness. The glass cover was free of dust, the skull 
 itself white, perfect, and a remarkably attractive speci- 
 men. Its owner must have been of high endowments, 
 mentally and morally — that is, if there be verity in 
 phrenology. 
 
 We passed from the chamber of the skull, the sacristan 
 leading the way. As I went out the doctor whispered 
 to me: "Follow him. I will join you directly." 
 
 The pictures were not all equally good. A few were 
 of masterly production. While we were examining the 
 altar, the candlesticks of silver, the spangled effigies 
 of the Virgin and Child, the guide doing his best in ex- 
 planation, talking volubly, his soul intent, the doctor 
 joined us. Finally we took leave, the sacristan going 
 to the door with us. 
 
 On the way to camp the doctor seemed in high spirits. 
 He criticised the pictures; they were daubs, he said, 
 some of them vilely irreligious in treatment. He 
 laughed at the custodian, and denounced priests gen- 
 erally as frauds and hypocrites — preachers of ideas 
 libellous of God. Within the lines we separated, each 
 going to his quarters. 
 
 In an hour or thereabouts the padre reappeared in 
 camp accompanied by the sacristan and the interpreter. 
 
 34 
 
Seeing them go to the colonel's tent, I went there, too. 
 Besides the colonel, the major and the adjutant were 
 present. The visitors were excited. The sacristan at 
 sight of me whispered to his superior, who thenceforward 
 kept me in observation. 
 
 This is the substance of what the padre said to the 
 colonel evolved slowly through the interpreter. In 
 Mexico and other Roman Catholic countries, he said, 
 it was customary to render honors to the memory of 
 deceased founders of churches and cathedrals. Their 
 bodies were laid away with impressive ceremonies. In 
 time the skulls were taken up, and kept in the edifices 
 of their building for the veneration of communicants 
 through generations. The exalted father to whom the 
 world was indebted for the cathedral of Cervalvo had 
 received such honors. Only that morning his skull had 
 been in its usual place on exhibition under glass in the 
 first room at the right-hand after-entrance of the holy 
 house. But now, the padre proceeded, the relic was 
 not to be found, though the most diligent search had 
 been made for it. Immediately that the disappearance 
 had been reported to him, he hurried to make it known 
 to the colonel, not doubting that he would exercise his 
 authority in effecting discovery of the robbers and re- 
 turn of the relic. The prayers at the old altar were of 
 value, and they should be for his excellency the colonel 
 as for a second founder. 
 
 The colonel asked the padre gravely if he wished to 
 be understood as accusing any of his officers or men. 
 The padre replied diplomatically that he had not knowl- 
 edge to justify a direct accusation; his object was mere- 
 ly recovery of the skull, and he could see no offence in 
 desiring inquiry to be made of such officers as had been 
 to the cathedral that morning. He was confident they 
 would all reply honorably to questions. He begged to 
 
 36 
 
add that the keeper of the house had shown him two 
 young gentlemen who had been through it within an 
 hour and a half, of whom one had worn an overcoat, 
 the other a cloak, and it was directly after their depart- 
 ure that the loss had been noticed. 
 
 "Could the keeper recognize them?" the colonel asked. 
 
 The padre looked at me, and returned, " The sacristan 
 here who guided them through the interior tells me the 
 officer at your excellency's side is one of them." 
 
 This was bluntly done; but repressing every show of 
 feeling as well as I could, all eyes being upon me, I re- 
 quested the interpreter to ask the padre if he meant to 
 charge me with the offence. The padre made haste to 
 say no. Thanking him, I then admitted having been 
 conducted by the guide present. I admitted having 
 worn an overcoat, and requested permission to go and 
 get it. Returning with it on, I asked the guide if this 
 was the coat. He said it was at least of a like kind. 
 
 "Were you not with me from my entrance to my 
 going out?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Did you not attend me and my companion to the 
 door?" * 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Look at me now with the coat on," I said, stepping 
 and turning before him — " look, and explain how it was 
 possible for me to have walked with you, stopping at 
 the altar and the pictures, and come away with a bulky 
 thing like the skull under my coat, which was without 
 cape, as you now see it." 
 
 His replies were accepted as conclusive of my inno- 
 cence, and the affair was in the way of a happy ending 
 when Major Lane ventured a question of me. 
 
 "You had company to the cathedral, I think you 
 said?" 
 
 37 
 
"Yes." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Dr. ." 
 
 I have seen the expression, half a smile, that came 
 over the major's face then, on the faces of lawyers when 
 in cross-examination they thought they had struck a 
 promising pointer. 
 
 "What kind of a coat did the doctor wear?" 
 
 "He wore a cloak," I returned. 
 
 The major and the colonel exchanged glances. Both 
 of them saw a motive in the doctor which I could not 
 have had, since it was professional; they also saw how 
 an object like a skull, which was of size, if not weight, 
 could have been concealed under the loose folds of a 
 cloak. The colonel sent his orderly to request Dr. 
 to come to him immediately. 
 
 There was an explanation when the doctor came, 
 during which his countenance was a study. He con- 
 fessed having gone to the cathedral with me wearing a 
 cloak, and that he had seen the skull under the glass 
 cover. He even admitted thinking, while looking at 
 it, how ornamental it would be under such a case in his 
 office at home, and how useful to students and others 
 interested in craniology. Then, with becoming vehe- 
 mence, he denied the taking, and requested the colonel 
 to have his tent and effects searched. That the padre 
 might be satisfied, he invited him to be one of the ex- 
 aminers. In short, the impression left by the new sus- 
 pect was favorable to him. I was confident of his inno- 
 cence. 
 
 Nevertheless, the colonel sent for the officer of the 
 day, and presently that gentleman, with the sacristan 
 as witness, overhauled the doctor's quarters, discover- 
 ing nothing like the relic in question; after which the 
 visitors left, the padre profuse in thanks and apologies. 
 
 38 
 
Some days afterwards, while descending the Rio 
 Grande going back to Matamoras, as will be narrated, 
 
 Dr. was detailed for duty on the same boat with 
 
 myself. From the hour his quarters had been searched, 
 he had not alluded to the affair of the skull; but as I 
 was passing the door of his state-room once, he called 
 to me, and I went in. 
 
 "See here," he said to me. "Something to interest 
 you." 
 
 Lifting the lid of a box doing duty as a trunk, he took 
 out a parcel of bulk with wrappings of heavy brown 
 paper and a stout hempen cord. A little work at the 
 tie of the cord, and he produced the skull and gave it 
 into my hands. 
 
 " Good God, Dr. ! And you did do it?" I said, 
 
 shocked clear through. 
 
 He laughed heartily, then explained: 
 
 "It's a beauty, isn't it? I had it under my cloak all 
 the time that Mexican idiot was showing us round. I 
 knew pursuit would follow; and quick as I got into 
 camp I made a package of the find, dropped it into a 
 mess-kettle, and gave a teamster half a dollar to hide 
 it in his feed-box. Not wishing to compromise you, I 
 didn't let you into the secret sooner. A lovely piece of 
 furniture for my office. What good was it doing there? 
 Think of it in my hands! Practical science is of more 
 worth than sentiment. You'll say nothing, of course." 
 
 I kept his secret. 
 
Order to return to former camp — General Taylor's act — Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Nave resigns — Major Lane elected to his place — The kill- 
 ing of Captain Thornton — Carvajal — The attack on Old Reynosa 
 — The town spared — Gratitude of the women — The serenade. 
 
 The last afternoon of the long march under General 
 Patterson's order came. The world and the sky had 
 turned to dust since we left Cervalvo, so there was but 
 one hue to be seen, look where we might — that of dirty 
 ochre. And now it was three o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and only six miles to Walnut Springs, where we were 
 to become in reality a part of an army, a consummation 
 long devoutly wished. 
 
 Our feet were sore, but that was nothing; our hearts 
 were light. Suddenly the column jammed into the 
 advance-guard, and there was a halt. Then a courier 
 rode to the colonel and delivered a despatch to him, 
 and he read it — read it twice. The second time he kept 
 his saddle unsteadily, his face much redder than usual. 
 Something had hit him hard, yet he managed to give 
 commands; and when we were faced front, aligned, 
 and brought arms ordered, he began to read the de- 
 spatch just received, but choked, and called the ad- 
 jutant, a young man, who took the paper and finished 
 it; and when he was through we all stood dazed. Some 
 demonstration would have ensued, I am sure, but the 
 colonel recovering made haste to put us in motion by 
 the left flank, whereas we had been marching right in 
 front. In plainer words, easy for people not soldiers, 
 
 40 
 
Walnut Springs, to which we had been sending our 
 thoughts bright with high hopes, was now behind us, 
 and we were to double upon our tracks back, clear back, 
 to the accursed camp at the mouth of the Rio Grande, 
 eating, as it were, the three hundred and ninety miles 
 we had come. 
 
 The order had proceeded, of course, from General 
 Taylor. In all the files thus turned back there was not 
 a man so dull as not to know that he and his regiment 
 were being punished ; on the other hand, had the bright- 
 est of the lot been asked what the punishment was for, 
 he could not have replied with a suggestion, though 
 his life depended upon it. My own opinion now, with 
 experience to help me, is that General Taylor was gov- 
 erned by one of two motives: either he was reminding 
 Colonel Drake of the unofficer-like request he and his 
 major had made of him at Matamoras, or he intended 
 a reprimand of General Patterson for his assumption 
 of authority in giving the order of march. 1 
 
 Whichever surmise is correct, one thing is not less 
 true — the general who could serve innocent soldiers of 
 his command so scurvily, allowing them under such 
 circumstances to get within two hours of his camp, 
 after a movement of such length and labor, must have 
 been of a soul which no successes could have made great. 
 
 The proof of discipline is obedience, not cheerful 
 obedience. After a while I suppose the regiment came 
 to my way of thinking — that we had an outing anyhow. 
 
 1 Years afterwards, when under command of the same General 
 Robert Patterson, ascertaining that he remembered giving Colonel 
 Drake the order to march to Walnut Springs, I asked if he had 
 General Taylor's authority to give it. He answered no; that he 
 acted from pity, having never seen men in the service in such a 
 state of neglect and suffering. He doubted if General Taylor 
 actually knew of the condition of the regiment, and upon that 
 assumption he had acted. 
 
 41 
 
Lieutenant-Colonel Nave, in deep resentment, resigned, 
 whereupon the four hundred and odd survivors has- 
 tened to elect Major Lane to the vacancy. 
 
 On the way to Camargo we were overtaken by an- 
 other order from General Taylor materially modifying 
 the first one. Colonel Drake was to send two com- 
 panies of the regiment to the mouth of the Rio Grande; 
 with the rest he was to take command of Matamoras. 
 This put us all in better spirits. 
 
 The descent of the San Juan and the Rio Grande 
 rivers being now before us, Company H, with three 
 other companies, embarked on the steamboat Enter- 
 prise, Captain Milroy in command of the detachment. 
 Four days were thought time enough to make Mata- 
 moras, and on that supposition rations were issued. 
 At the close of the fifth day, we were scarcely half-way 
 to our destination, and hanging with our boat's nose 
 over a low bank. A famine struck us, and it became 
 necessary to forage. Five men went out in search of 
 cattle. Two of them came back soon to tell how the 
 party had been ambushed, and that they had barely 
 escaped, having left three of their comrades dead. 
 
 The captain of the boat was taken into consultation. 
 He knew the river and the region, and from him it was 
 learned that Old Reynosa, a town of bad repute, lay 
 off the river three or four miles, and that it was the 
 haunt of General Jesus Maria Carvajal, whom every- 
 body recollected as the famous guerilla who lured Cap- 
 tain Thornton into the fatal lariat-trap down by Fort 
 Brown in the beginning of the war. The inference was 
 safe, we thought, that Carvajal and his band had mur- 
 dered our foragers and were then in the town. 
 
 Captain Milroy now showed himself to advantage; 
 only instead of ordering us, he buckled on his sword, 
 jumped ashore, and called for volunteers, declaring he 
 
 42 
 
would recover the bodies of our men first, and then 
 burn the town, and if we could catch Carvajal, the 
 natives should be treated to a hanging in imitation of 
 Hainan's. The four companies responded to a man. 
 Even the boatmen begged for guns that they too might 
 go. One company was left to keep the steamer. 
 
 The dead men were found horribly mutilated. Tear- 
 ing through the brush, then, we reached the town, where, 
 as a glance disclosed, the advantages were all against 
 us. First, a stretch of meadow -land; then a bluff 
 fifteen or twenty feet high, its face gullied by rains; at 
 the edge of the bluff on top a palisade of tree-trunks 
 set side and side, and taller than our heads; behind the 
 palisade the enemy — how many we could not see. I 
 could see their guns glistening in the sunlight. So, 
 by the signs, I had stumbled on my first fight, though 
 at the moment too much excited to recognize the fact. 
 
 There was a brief halt while Milroy arranged the 
 attack. Then, in double files, and with a yell, we rushed 
 across the meadow. I was in command of Company H. 
 Heavens! What furnace heat there was in that go! 
 We reached the foot of the bluff, and not a shot had 
 been fired at us. How I got up the face of the bluff I 
 do not know; how over the tall palisading I would never 
 have known had not some of the men afterwards spoken 
 of the boosting they gave me. And then the disap- 
 pointment! The Mexicans ran out of the town into the 
 chaparral on the other side faster than we could get 
 into it. 
 
 The barking of dogs, the only creatures that offered 
 fight, and the screaming of women and children run- 
 ning in and out of the doorways, were stunning, but 
 not enough to keep us from following the ladrones and 
 pelting them with fire and yells. At the edge of the 
 chaparral they stopped once and gave us a ragged round 
 
 43 
 
that spent itself over our heads. That stop was of 
 better avail to our quick-sighted ready squirrel-hunters. 
 
 Now the sight of men lying in their blood on the 
 ground, one killed and four wounded, was new to me; 
 and when we got to them and the wretches began pray- 
 ing to us in their unknown tongue for life, my feelings, 
 I confess, underwent a sudden revulsion, and out of 
 pity I would have interfered for them had there been 
 any need of interference. The change, which was gen- 
 eral on our side, may have been accelerated by the 
 women who ran to the scene from all parts, and on their 
 knees, and with tears and the most piteous moans and 
 cries, joined in the supplications of the wounded. Then, 
 when Captain Milroy ordered the men to be carried 
 into the houses, and it was done instantly and tenderly, 
 the women ran to their kitchens and got us dinners of 
 baked beans, corn-cakes, and came seca (dried beef). 
 Nor was that all. When we paid them for what they 
 gave us, I thought they would have been glad to have 
 us stay longer. 
 
 Carvajal escaped, 1 and the town was not burned. 
 Regaining our boat without molestation, we buried our 
 dead on the bank of the river. Experience had hard- 
 ened us not a little against death and burial; but think- 
 ing of it now I can see all the grewsomeness of that 
 sepulture. Poor boys! They had their mourners at 
 home, if not there. 
 
 We were lucky enough while returning to secure four 
 beeves, fat for that part of the world; and the current 
 of the river having kindly washed the sand and loam 
 
 1 Further on it will appear that at one time later I had much to 
 do with General Carvajal. I asked once why he did not fire on us 
 while we were crossing the meadow. His answer was a good one. 
 " I saw you had men enough to take the town, and thought it best 
 not to fight on account of the v/omen and children." 
 
 44 
 
r^p 
 
 wm fafc 
 
from under the keel of the steamboat, it was soon in 
 motion. In the evening of the tenth day of the voyage, 
 the four companies disembarked at Matamoras none 
 the worse of the wear. 
 
 There was little to except to in our new quarters. We 
 needed a rest, and had it; even drilling in the plaza in 
 the heart of the city, treated as work, had its social 
 counterbalances. Bailes were of nightly occurrence. 
 The ultra-fashionable of New York and Boston might 
 have smiled at the Mexican belles who were the bright 
 lights on such occasions; nevertheless, in waltzing only 
 a belle of Madrid could have excelled them. To natural 
 grace and perfected sense of time, they added match- 
 less endurance. 
 
 Those days in Matamoras, enlivened as they were by 
 incidents illustrative of the life led there, were not with- 
 out pleasantness. 
 
 To me, at least, one of the most delightful and touch- 
 ing occurrences was a serenade. The city lay in the 
 hush of midnight, deeper for the military occupation it 
 was undergoing. Much I fear even the sentinels slept 
 on their posts. Suddenly a burst of music rose clear 
 and high through the silence. The harmony rushing 
 wavelike into the quarters of my company — the legis- 
 lative hall of the state of Tamalipas — startled us from 
 sleep, and we hurried to the balcony overlooking the 
 plaza and listened. The air was "Hail Columbia," in 
 magnificent rendition by a brass -band. We peered 
 through the moonlight, straining to make the musicians 
 out, but they were under the towers of the church op- 
 posite draped impenetrably in shadow. What band 
 was it? We had none. How came it there? I heard 
 with tears in my eyes and an unwonted commotion in 
 my heart. I was transported home, and stung to the 
 quick by a reminder of how rapidly it was wearing out 
 
 46 
 
in my recollection. The players gave but the one 
 number, and at its conclusion disappeared mysteriously 
 as they had come. Morning brought an explanation. 
 A steamboat with the band of the Second United States 
 Cavalry aboard had touched for supplies at the city, 
 landing in the night, and, having an hour at dis- 
 posal, the men had mounted their horses and stolen 
 into the plaza. That there were such depth and 
 touch in the old air had never before entered my 
 thought. 
 
 There are few things that amuse me more than the 
 freshness of youth, a quality which I now suspect must 
 have been mine in large share; for what else was 
 this? 
 
 Urvea, a Mexican general, appeared between Mata- 
 moras and Victoria with four thousand lancers, sent 
 down by President Santa Anna to raid General Tay- 
 lor's long line of supplies. It was reported, also, that 
 Urvea was watching to strike us. This put Colonel 
 Drake on his mettle. Among other precautions taken, 
 he ditched the corner of the plaza, and had us practice 
 with the six-pounder field-pieces, the target being two 
 cracker barrels set one on the other. I was out with the 
 guns one day and it came my turn to shoot. A flock of 
 sheep happened to be moving across the flat about 
 three hundred yards away, grazing as they went. Call- 
 ing for a spherical case-shot, while it was being rammed 
 home I made a hasty guess at the distance and the 
 elevation required to reach the flock; then, all being 
 ready, I suddenly swung the gun round, took a glance 
 over it, and fired. There was mutton next day in 
 nearly every mess-kettle, and compliments poured in 
 on me in a shower. The third day, however, the colo- 
 nel sent me his compliments. Would I please come 
 to him? A matter of business. I complied, of course, 
 
 48 
 
and he put a bill in my hand from the owner of the 
 slaughtered sheep. I protested, but without avail. 
 The shot cost me more than half a month's pay; and 
 thenceforth I knew a regimental laugh peculiar in that 
 it takes such a time to cool and quit. 
 
VI 
 
 The First Indiana at Walnut Springs — General Taylor — The camp 
 at Walnut Springs — A visit to Monterey — An adventure in the 
 chaparral — A test of courage — The first panic. 
 
 Again the First Indiana drew near Walnut Springs, 
 still the site of General Taylor's headquarters. The 
 exact date I do not remember; yet it must have been 
 in February, the first week, I think. This time the 
 order bore the sign-manual of Bliss, adjutant-general. 
 
 Over a thousand miles of marching — three times by 
 the same route — and now, as in the first up-country 
 movement, we had the same incentive to keep us in 
 heart — a hope of battle. The whole region was rife 
 with news of Santa Anna at San Luis Potosi assembling 
 an army to come down and put an end to the audacious 
 Gringos. 
 
 With the exception of Colonel Drake and Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Lane, none of the regiment had seen General 
 Taylor. What has been from the beginning will go on, 
 I suppose, to the end; a hero will always be more than 
 a man; so, although the general had, as we thought, 
 dealt us great unkindness, and needlessly stored the 
 dunes at the mouth of the Rio Grande with our dead, 
 we had a craving to see him ; and despite the nickname, 
 "Rough and Ready," it was impossible for us to think 
 of him entirely divested of pomp and circumstance. 
 His tent must be out of the usual, a central hall, as it 
 were, of a town of tents. Horsemen and horses must 
 
 VOL. I.— 11 
 
 50 
 
be at his door signifying martial authority at home. In 
 a word, the feeling was general that even before ap- 
 proaching his quarters there would be something to 
 advise us, without the asking, that we were near the 
 will which was law unto us — something though but 
 a sword-belt or a mien to bid us, " Here — look here — 
 this is he!" 
 
 Moving forward with lengthening steps, and draw- 
 ing nearer and nearer, we strained our eyes to catch 
 every point in the surroundings of the hero. A tall 
 white flag-staff was the first thing observable. A flag 
 floated from it high up, but the flag was dingy and 
 worn. That was a disappointment. Next, back of 
 the staff, fifteen or twent}' steps, perhaps, we noticed 
 two marquees one in rear of the other, a fly before the 
 first answering for a porch; and they, too, were dingy 
 and discolored. Under the fly there were a few camp- 
 stools, a small table, also dirty, and a deal bench, long 
 and straight-backed. No orderlies in trim dress uni- 
 forms; not even a sentinel stiffly stalking a beat sug- 
 gested state thereabout. These his quarters? 
 
 Presently, without halting, we broke into column of 
 companies — quickly and without a break we did it, 
 and then advanced intervals and alignment perfected. 
 Where was he? 
 
 Now the head of the column was passing the dingy 
 flag on the tall pole. One by one in quick succession 
 the companies reached the prescribed saluting distance. 
 Officers glanced to the right. Their swords remained 
 at carry. So, also, the color-bearer swept by, his nose, 
 like his flag, mutinously in the air. And all there asked 
 themselves, anxiously, Where is he? 
 
 It came my turn to salute from my place behind the 
 rear rank. I readjusted the sword-grip in my hand, 
 and looked for the reviewing officer out of the corner 
 
 51 
 
of my eye first, then broadly. Leaning lazily against 
 the butt of the white pole, I saw a man of low stature, 
 dressed in a blouse unbuttoned and so faded it could 
 not be said to have been of any color, a limp-bosomed 
 shirt certainly not white, 1 a hang-down collar without 
 a tie of any kind, trousers once light blue now stripeless, 
 rough marching shoes, foxy from long wear — such the 
 dress of the man. He also wore a slouch wool hat 
 drawn down low over a face unshaven, and dull and 
 expressionless as the wooden Indian's habitually on 
 duty in front of tobacco-shops. I did not salute him, 
 but, like all who had preceded me, and all who came 
 after me, passed on wondering, Where can he be? 
 
 Looking backward once, I noticed Colonel Drake 
 riding to the man with the slouch hat. There is reason 
 to think he stopped with him and dismounted. Still 
 I plodded on grumbling to myself, "He is treating us 
 shabbily, as usual." 
 
 That evening, when the good colonel's tent was 
 pitched, I went to see him, unable to contain my in- 
 dignation. 
 
 "Colonel," I said, "did General Taylor tell you that 
 he would review us as we marched past his quarters?" 
 
 "Yes. I sent the adjutant to notify him of our com- 
 ing. Didn't you see him?" 
 
 "No, sir, or I would have saluted." 
 
 The colonel's face sobered as he said, "Nobody 
 saluted." 
 
 "Why, there was nobody to salute." 
 
 1 This is to give the impression made upon me at the time. Since 
 then I came to know that general officers are not entirely exempt 
 from the effects of field life in actual campaigning. Their uniforms 
 fade, the buttons dim, and sometimes their shirts get soiled. 
 Though, if the latter happen when the gentlemen is at a fixed post 
 where change of linen is at command, as in the instance given, one 
 must look for the reason in the personal preference of the individual. 
 
 52 
 
hexmify WlliJ € 
 
 Q^@A&3 
 
"Yes there was." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " The man leaning against the flag-staff." 
 
 "That General Taylor? I took him to be a team- 
 ster." 
 
 We cleared first a spacious parade-ground; then our 
 encampment became beautiful. A stream of spring- 
 water ran through a grove of pecan-trees hardly dis- 
 tinguishable from oaks majestic, as we fancy Druidical 
 temples. A range of mountains, nearly always cloud- 
 capped, in the southeast, Monterey nestling beneath it, 
 lifted the horizon in that direction. Nearer by rose 
 Saddle Mountain, a solitary pyramidal peak accessible 
 to climbers with muscles of steel. The purer the air 
 the bluer the sky — with Walnut Springs hard-by Mon- 
 terey one has not to go to Italy to test the saying. 
 And yet camp life went on as usual. We did little day 
 after day but buckle the disciplinary harness tighter 
 about us. For now it was an assured thing — every- 
 body said it — we were to be in the coming battle, the 
 greatest of the war. 
 
 I have been often asked if I were ever scared. It 
 seems now that an answer may be found in an incident 
 of occurrence to me while the regiment lay at Walnut 
 Springs. 
 
 A paymaster arrived in Monterey, and a number of 
 the lieutenants requested to be allowed to go to the 
 city and interview him. Unfortunately, the time set 
 covered my turn to be officer of the guard ; but by much 
 importunity, and the most solemn promises to be in 
 camp at the "turning off," I was permitted to be one of 
 the party. 
 
 The quartermaster put a wagon at our disposal, and 
 we piled into it, accommodating ourselves to the loose 
 board seats as best we could. There must have been 
 
 54 
 
a dozen of us; and a merrier, wilder, more reckless mob, 
 one readier to laugh at broken bones and peril to necks, 
 was not in all the army. Where are they now? 
 
 It is not my purpose to describe the ride. Every 
 man reading who can remember the happy-go-lucky 
 of his own lusty youth can imagine it. Providentially, 
 the harness was' sound and all the material under us 
 good American stuff. The road, too, was in our favor, 
 having been cut through the chaparral for the pas- 
 sage of gun-carriages during the siege; while narrow, 
 it was level and unencumbered. Tired and winded, the 
 six mules at last slowed down and rolled us safely into 
 the city. 
 
 After dinner at the hotel, we betook ourselves in a 
 body to the paymaster's, where our several accounts 
 were squared in United States silver dollars newly 
 minted. And then — well, I take the liberty of mak- 
 ing a long hiatus of " the subsequent proceedings/ ' ex- 
 cept to say that near one o'clock in the night, as the 
 one sober Indianian, I succeeded in getting the last man 
 to bed, and left the party in care of the hostelry. 
 
 It is only just to say that I had not thought of vio- 
 lating my promise to the colonel to be in camp next 
 morning, so, the teamster not to be found, I set out 
 alone and on foot to do the six miles. 
 
 I remember a stone bridge in the city limits garnished 
 midway with a statue of some holy personage. The 
 image had been set up for the convenience of people 
 piously inclined; but, as if in travesty, the district be- 
 yond the bridge was admittedly the most dangerous of 
 the town. There, on that bridge and in front of the 
 statue, I thought for the first time of the risks before 
 me. Nevertheless, I went on. If the reflection left 
 an impression on my nerves, I did not at the time 
 notice it. 
 
 55 
 
I passed the ugly precinct safely. Once some dogs 
 in front of an adobe house assailed me, and I picked up 
 a couple of stones, one for each hand. From the main 
 road — to Marin, I think — I turned into the narrow 
 passageway cut, as mentioned, by the pioneers. Oc- 
 casionally it ran across openings in the chaparral. Oc- 
 casionally a clump of brush projected into the passage, 
 and there were loose stones; otherwise the way was clear, 
 and I had not to stop and deliberate about the direction 
 Moreover, the stars were all out twinkling the brighter 
 because of the absolute lethargy in the air. The hush 
 was soothing, the coolness delicious. 
 
 Three miles had been put behind me certainly, and 
 I was bowling swiftly and lightly along, when all at 
 once it struck me that I had nothing with which to 
 defend myself — not even a penknife. I stopped, my 
 ears wide open. There was only the universal silence, 
 and I moved on again, but not with a free step. I was 
 aware, too, of cold shivers, now on my cheeks, now 
 along my scalp; and I fancied noises, the breaking of 
 twigs in the brush, whirrings overhead, beetles a-wing, 
 birds restless and shifting on their roosts. The truth 
 is, my nerve was going, and my will. 
 
 A clump had been left at a certain point in the wall 
 of brush hemming the road large enough to have fur- 
 nished hiding for a horse behind it. I noticed the clump 
 when about twenty feet from it looking unusually black, 
 and came to a dead stop. Then something like a lapse 
 of sensation took me. My feet would not stir; they 
 seemed to have taken root in the ground. I could 
 neither think nor resolve. From the ends of my fingers 
 and toes the blood in icy drops ran to my heart, so that 
 it stood still, refusing to beat. In a word, I stood over- 
 whelmed by all the phenomena to terror. 
 
 The very strange part of the affair was that I fell 
 
 56 
 
into this state, so almost identical with nightmare, be- 
 fore anything in the least likely to cause it had really 
 happened. Premonition suggests itself here; anyhow, 
 the clutch upon me was hard — harder possibly of a 
 recollection, at the moment too faint to be spoken of 
 as an idea, that near where I w T as standing the servant 
 of an officer had been waylaid only the week before, 
 and murdered. And if, in this faint of will and nerve 
 — such was the condition — anything in the least un- 
 usual were to happen, a general collapse was sure to 
 overtake me. 
 
 And exactly that happened. I heard a sharp metallic 
 dicky click, as of the hammer of a gunlock raised first 
 to half, then to full cock, slowly, and with care lest the 
 game should startle and run. Then a hiss flew out — 
 the familiar hiss of powder burning in a pan — and all 
 the chaparral behind the clump flashed red; and quick 
 as the flash my senses left me. 
 
 Upon " coming to," I found myself hugging the ground 
 like a snake. How long the lapse had lasted I cannot 
 begin to tell, whether five minutes or an hour; neither 
 have I an idea how I came to do what I did; none the 
 less it was the best thing. Springing to the side of the 
 road — the left, as I soon made out — I dropped down, 
 and dragged myself into the chaparral, striking, by 
 happy chance, one of the many paths tunnelled through 
 the fastness by wandering goats and hogs. 
 
 It is doubtful if any man could have got closer to the 
 ground than I had without digging into it. I lay still 
 awhile listening. My heart beat, I fancied, like a bass 
 drum, and a cold sweat covered me. Then, suddenly, 
 I thought, "Cood Heavens! what if some of the fellows 
 in camp who knew I was to return are in the waylay- 
 ing?" A thrill of shame splattered me as with hot 
 water, and completed my recovery. I crawled on far- 
 
 57 
 
ther through the tunnel. The movement was slow and 
 sore, for every leaf I came in contact with had its thorns 
 keen as needles. At last I gained an opening, and stood 
 up never more myself. There was a light in the sky 
 signifying morning, and, taking direction from it, I 
 walked around the place of ambush. Fortune favored 
 me. Standing in the road, I listened again. There was 
 nothing. Strangely enough, however, in that instant the 
 panic caught me in full force again, and I started and 
 ran. I ran with all my might, and so blind and head- 
 long that if a regiment of Urvea's lancers had risen in 
 front of me and blocked the narrow passage, I believe 
 I should have dashed into them. The tents of the 
 camp at length appeared, and I knew myself safe. 
 
 For a time I went about chary lest some one should 
 blister me with the story, but no, the incident was never 
 mentioned. 
 
 The sight of a child in fear always stops me now 
 with quick appeal — or, with greater emphasis perhaps, 
 since that night I have seen masses of soldiers in flight, 
 and let them go by, partly out of sympathy, partly be- 
 cause no one knows better than I how blind and un- 
 reasoning panic is. 
 
VII 
 
 The battle of Buena Vista — February, 1847 — Permission to go to 
 the front — Saltillo — La Rinconada — Biscuits and onions — The 
 Kentucky lieutenant — The adobe house — The three days' siege. 
 
 About the middle of the month (February) General 
 Taylor astonished the command at Walnut Springs by 
 disappearing, leaving nothing of headquarters except 
 the white flag-staff. Presently we heard he had been 
 seen going in the direction of Saltillo, with an escort of 
 cavalry, and fast, as if the business were urgent. Had 
 Santa Anna emerged from the desert? 
 
 A few days later, Captain S n, of the Third In- 
 diana, rode into camp en route to join his company 
 wherever it might be. He was straining every nerve 
 to reach it before the fight, and wanted somebody to 
 go with him. Colonel Drake consented to my going. 
 Here was another chance for me. Borrowing a mus- 
 tang and riding-gear, I was on the road with the cap- 
 tain within thirty minutes. A double-barrelled shot- 
 gun of caliber to carry a service cartridge lay across 
 my lap. The captain was custodian of a lunch con- 
 tributed by Colonel Drake. 
 
 After leaving San Katrina we neither met nor were 
 overtaken by a human being ; this though the road was 
 a broad highway connecting two capital cities. To 
 such distance hostile armies approaching each other 
 can interrupt the every-day courses of life! 
 
 Saltillo and Monterey lie separate sixty miles, with 
 La Rinconada, a hacienda, half-way. Tired, hungry, 
 
 60 
 
sore, we were glad when near nightfall a picket from 
 the hacienda halted us. At the house in use as barracks 
 we made ourselves known to a lieutenant, who proved 
 himself a brave and hospitable gentleman. He was a 
 Kentuckian. His reply to our request for entertain- 
 ment was merely this: 
 
 "Certainly, gentlemen. You shall be made, man 
 and beast, comfortable as possible. Sorry I can't do 
 better by you. To-day we were to have received an in- 
 stalment of rations. We draw from Saltillo. For some 
 reason our teamster is not on time. Lancers prob- 
 ably on the road. Anyhow, we are reduced to hard- 
 tack, with onions from a garden back of the house for 
 dessert. Still, I can promise you salt of good quality, 
 American made, with choice water from a ditch near 
 by. If your stomachs work well, all right. Come in, 
 and make yourselves at home." 
 
 A man set the table. The biscuits were of the cracker 
 variety and the onions artistically sliced. The tin 
 cups were not immaculately bright, There was no 
 coffee. While we ate, the lieutenant generously opened 
 his budget of news. La Rinconada, he said, had been 
 occupied — I speak from memory — by Brigadier-Gen- 
 eral Marshall, his command consisting of a battalion of 
 Kentucky horse, with two or three twenty-four-pound- 
 er guns and as many eight-inch howitzers. Only that 
 morning the general had set out for Saltillo under fast- 
 marching orders received during the night, leaving a 
 half company in garrison. Extending his news beyond 
 La Rinconada, our host further apprised us that Taylor 
 and Wool, were doing business together. The army 
 was out at Encantados waiting for Santa Anna advanc- 
 ing by forced marches. When last heard from the 
 Mexican was at a village called Encornacion. There 
 had been some skirmishing, and the armies would come 
 
 61 
 
• • tii m&®imk ®k%m£ m Ud 
 
together soon — exactly when or where no one could say. 
 "The Old Man" (Taylor) had a mouth for secrets. 
 
 In the midst of the discourse — not more, in fact, than 
 thirty minutes after our dismount — a soldier appeared 
 and said, with suppressed excitement, "The pickets 
 are firing, sir." 
 
 " From what • direction ?" 
 
 "From the direction of Saltillo." 
 
 The lieutenant buckled on his sword with gravity. 
 
 "Excuse me, gentlemen, if I leave you awhile," he 
 said. "I think there is business in this interruption. 
 I have been expecting it, and see now why my teamster 
 isn't on time. If you want any more dessert, call 
 for it." 
 
 He was gone fifteen or twenty minutes. Meantime 
 the sound of a dropping fire penetrated to where we sat. 
 We quit munching crackers. Pretty soon we dis- 
 tinguished the tramp of men in files. The door flew 
 open under the impulse of an energetic kick outside, 
 and the garrison, or a part of it, marched in arms at 
 trail. The light was dim— from a candle or two stuck 
 in red onions — but there was enough to help to a glance 
 at the soldiers who passed through the room steadily; 
 after which the door admitting them was banged to 
 and securely barred. 
 
 The lieutenant stopped to explain. 
 
 "It's business, gentlemen. The house is being sur- 
 rounded." 
 
 "What kind of a house is it?" S n asked. 
 
 "It's adobe, sir, and pretty solid. There is a fence 
 of the same material enclosing it on all sides, except 
 here in front. If the Greasers have no artillery, we can 
 stand them off." 
 
 He looked over us, for we were then on our feet, and 
 went on. "I suppose you prefer to take a hand with 
 
 63 
 
us; so, if you are through supper" — he smiled grimly — 
 "and will come with me, I'll see you have front seats." 
 
 S n was accommodated with a musket and car- 
 tridges. I caught up my shot-gun; whereupon we fol- 
 lowed the lieutenant. 
 
 "There's the back door," he said. "It's open to let 
 the rest of the men in, if there's a rush. I'm taking you 
 to the roof. Here's the ladder." 
 
 On the roof the night air seemed chilly — or the situa- 
 tion may have had an effect on me — and I could not 
 help thinking it strange that my chronic longing to get 
 into a fight should be gratified at such an out-of-the-way 
 place. Sure enough the house was surrounded. Then 
 
 S n and I lay down behind the adobe wall rising 
 
 above the roof like a parapet, and helped the garrison 
 within and the leaguerers without to fill the night with 
 intermittent musketry. Nobody of ours was hurt. At 
 dawn the enemy retired out of range, and in that way 
 as good as said we were not in their mind's eye — that 
 they were holding the road merely to prevent communi- 
 cation until the crises up-country had passed. 
 
 We remained thus in leaguer until morning of the 
 25th, ample time to test thoroughly the theory of the 
 vegetarians, and satisfy ourselves that crackers and 
 onions, reinforced though they were with salt, American 
 made, and choice water from a ditch, were susceptible 
 of improvement as a ration. That day the Mexicans 
 suddenly disappeared in the direction of Monterey, 
 
 and S n and I took to the road and its chances. 
 
 In the afternoon we met the overdue teamster hurry- 
 ing, under escort of four cavalrymen, to the relief of 
 the lieutenant at La Rinconada. 
 
VIII 
 
 Saltillo — February 25th — General Wool — Major Cravens — The field 
 of Buena Vista after the battle — The Indiana regiments — The dis- 
 position of troops — Description of the battle — Mexican forces and 
 generals (names) — The first day's fight — Colonel Gell — Colonels 
 Hadden and Davis — Marshall — The fight in the ravine — Violation 
 of flag of truce — Bragg — " A little more grape, Bragg " — The day 
 is saved. 
 
 We, the captain and I, reached Saltillo in the even- 
 ing of the 25th without further interruption. Thence 
 we rode to Buena Vista, five miles out. 
 
 Tired as I was, I spent most of the night listening to 
 accounts of the battle. When, finally, my blanket un- 
 rolled to receive my aching bones, I was stuffed with 
 talk and gossip, and the mass lay in my mind indiges- 
 tible, like a late supper on a provincial stomach. 
 
 First thing next day were calls on the Lanes, General 
 " Joe " and Colonel " Jim." To the former I reported, 
 explaining my presence. 
 
 Then followed my respects to General Wool, whom 
 my father admired extravagantly. With volunteers 
 General Wool's reputation was that of a martinet, prim, 
 formal, and stern to an offensive degree. They said he 
 would not allow himself the compliment of a serenade; 
 that he was always in uniform, with a leather stock 
 about his neck and epaulets on his shoulders; that he 
 received visitors capped, booted, and spurred; that he 
 began business at daybreak, and ate with his sword on; 
 some believed he even slept with his sword. In short, 
 there was no limit to the general's unpopularity. I 
 
 65 
 
found him an agreeable gentleman, kind and sympa- 
 thetic, and left him a subscriber to my father's opinion. 
 
 From General Wool, in company with friends who 
 had been in the battle, notably Major Cravens, of the 
 Second Indiana, I passed to the field. There the wrecks 
 still lay in awful -significance — dead men and horses, 
 bayonets, accoutrements, broken muskets, hats, caps, 
 cartridge-paper, fragments of clothing. The earth and 
 rocks were in places black with blood, here a splotch, 
 there a little rill. Details were still digging pits for the 
 sepulture of Americans; other parties were hauling the 
 unfortunates in and depositing them in ghastly rows 
 by the pits. The civil authorities of Saltillo had been 
 ordered to bury the Mexican dead; they were having 
 the bodies dragged to the nearest ravines, pitched piti- 
 lessly down into the depths, and half covered with stones. 
 Groups of swarthy peons, women and men, went about 
 clipping the manes and tails of the dead horses. 1 
 
 Though too late to make the battle of Buena Vista 
 a part of my life, there is a reason, and I think it a 
 good one, why I should deal with it somewhat in 
 detail. 
 
 In his official report, General Taylor condemned a 
 portion of the troops from Indiana, and in a manner so 
 sweeping that the reputation of the state suffered from 
 it through a long series of years — down, in fact, to the 
 War of the Rebellion. And believing myself in posses- 
 sion of evidence to show the judgment unjust, and in 
 material points officially false, it would seem a duty re- 
 quired of me to correct the wrong. That I will do in 
 the next chapter. First the main features of the field 
 should be considered. 
 
 It was crossed by a road its whole length from north 
 
 1 To make lariats and saddle-girths. 
 
 66 
 
( 
 
 / 
 
 '% 
 
 Ttei 4Kc \mdi$ sKB lay .. . . 
 
to south. Blocking that road brought Santa Anna to 
 a stand-still and compelled him to give battle. 
 
 In selecting the field, General Wool had been gov- 
 erned by its defensive advantages, exactly as General 
 Taylor was governed when he approved the selection. 
 
 Going south from Saltillo, say to San Luis, one comes, 
 after passing the height above the city, to a sheep-ranch 
 called San Juan de la Buena Vista, from which the name 
 of the battle was taken. Aside from a few clay-roofed 
 habitations more nearly jocales than houses, the hacienda 
 is unmarked save by a corral probably one hundred and 
 fifty feet square. Indeed, everything about the place 
 is in keeping with the plateau extending thence far to 
 the south, a valley of desolation bounded by mountains 
 on the east and west. Cacti and Spanish-bayonets are 
 the only green things to vary the dun-gray color of the 
 spacious stretch. 
 
 Beyond the hacienda there is a spread of the plateau, 
 crossing which the traveller comes next to the Pass of 
 Angostura. 
 
 The road there descends into a squeeze between ridged 
 heights on the left and gullies on the right, the latter 
 shapeless and of such width and depths as to be passable 
 by nothing living but birds. A spur of the mountain 
 dropping down to the gullies secured the position against 
 attempts at turning. A simple earthwork for the ac- 
 commodation of a battery across the road up where the 
 descent into the squeeze begins would hold the pass 
 against direct attacks along the road. General Wool, 
 quick to see these advantages and accept them as kind- 
 nesses of nature, caused a breastwork to be thrown up 
 at the point mentioned, and intrusted it to Captain J. 
 M. Washington, of the Fourth United States Artillery. 
 Two companies of the First Illinois Infantry behind the 
 breastwork, and six other companies constituting the 
 
 68 
 
body of the regiment under Colonel Hardin on the hill 
 above it, supported Washington and his five guns. And 
 still not content, knowing the pass to be the key to the 
 whole field of battle, he posted Colonel Lane's Third In- 
 diana in reserve on a summit a little to Washington's rear. 
 
 Thus La Angostura and the road through it, together 
 with a safe position on which to rest the right of the 
 little army, were happily secured, leaving Santa Anna 
 but one other point of attack. 
 
 Ravines, eight or ten in number, break the plateau 
 east of the pass into ridges. Trending a little south of 
 east, they all bear down towards the pass and become 
 gorges sixty or seventy feet in depth, immense natural 
 ditches absolutely deterrent except by going around 
 them up by the foot-hills where there was a passage- 
 way, rough yet practicable for infantry and horsemen, 
 which once gained necessarily operated the turning of 
 the pass. Knowing that to succeed Santa Anna must 
 secure that way, no other being left him, General Wool 
 applied himself to fencing it in. 
 
 A table of the commands other than those we have 
 seen posted in support of Washington available for the 
 upper defence may now be submitted. And we are 
 startled here, they are so few: 
 
 REGULARS 
 
 Third Artillery, Sherman and Bragg. 
 
 First Dragoons, Captain Steene. 
 
 Second Dragoons, Lieutenant-Colonel May. 
 
 VOLUNTEERS 
 
 CAVALRY 
 
 Arkansas, Colonel Gell. 
 
 Kentucky, Colonel Marshall. 
 
 Texas Volunteers, Major McCullough. 
 
 69 
 
INFANTRY 
 
 First Illinois, Colonel Hardin. 
 Second Illinois, Colonel Bissell. 
 Second Kentucky, Colonel McKee. 
 First Mississippi, Colonel Davis. 
 Second Indiana, Colonel Bowles. 
 
 Meagre to the eye, meagre in fact. But worse, the 
 commands were all fractional. Thus, the First Illinois 
 was less four companies garrisoning Saltillo. Two com- 
 panies of the First Mississippi were guarding head- 
 quarters and the train in park near the hacienda. So, 
 as will be presently seen, the Second and Third Indiana 
 each lost two companies by detachment. All this aside 
 from the reductions wrought by disease, on which ac- 
 count few, if any, of the regiments could boast four 
 hundred effectives all told. 
 
 To post this inadequate force to the best advantage 
 over a ground so spacious and peculiar was indeed a 
 most difficult problem. 
 
 Let us see how it was done. 
 
 Three ravines in the south all lead from the road 
 through the pass up to the now all-important passage- 
 way along the base of the mountains. These were, in 
 fact, what in military phrase may be termed covered 
 ways, every one of them possible of use for the ascent of 
 infantry to the plateau, all of which had to be defended. 
 
 The extreme southern situation had a salience certain 
 to attract Santa Anna, and General Wool thought best 
 to establish his left at the head of that ravine; so he 
 began the posting by placing Colonel Bowles's Second 
 Indiana there, in support of Lieutenant O'Brien with 
 three guns. General Lane had charge of the regiment 
 and battery, and all the dispositions else had relation 
 to that most advanced position. 
 
 70 
 
At the left of the Second Indiana, but some distance 
 to its rear, and directly across the passageway, Colonel 
 Humphrey Marshall's Kentucky cavalry and a squad- 
 ron of the Second United States Dragoons were 
 placed. 
 
 Then in echelon — the word is somewhat strained — 
 at the right rear of the Second Indiana, but nearly a 
 quarter of a mile removed, Bissell's Second Illinois and 
 a section of Bragg's battery were established fronting 
 south to lend Bowles a helping hand, if need should be, 
 and at the same time look after the heads of the second 
 and third ravines. 
 
 Left of Bissell, at a wide interval, there were two guns 
 and a squadron of dragoons. 
 
 Next, at another interval, Colonel McKee's Second 
 Kentucky infantry was posted. 
 
 Then behind a ravine in rear of all these — the 
 mother ravine, so to speak, having its head far up 
 in the mountains, and christened La Bosca de la 
 Bestarros — Colonel Gell's Arkansas cavalry was in 
 reserve. 
 
 Finally, to keep the position of the Second Indiana 
 from being turned by infantry scaling the mountain at 
 its left, a provisional battalion was formed of two com- 
 panies from the Second and Third Indiana respectively, 
 and extended along a convenient ridge overlooking the 
 plateau. 1 
 
 Then dispositions made — they are given as of mid- 
 afternoon, February 22d — General Wool rested. He 
 had done the best with his scant force; and, follow- 
 ing his example, it is for us now to look at the 
 enemy. 
 
 1 Davis's First Mississippi is omitted from mention, it having been 
 called off, together with a squadron of dragoons under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel May, as escort for General Taylor returning to Saltillo. 
 
 71 
 
Heavy clouds of dust seen in the morning of the 22d 
 in the direction of Angostura notified General Taylor 
 of the approach of the Mexicans. 
 
 At eleven o'clock a summons to surrender at discretion 
 was politely rejected. 
 
 The summons had ample backing. Twenty-eight bat- 
 talions of infantry; thirty-nine squadrons of cavalry; 
 artillery: three twenty -four pounders, three sixteen- 
 pounders, five twelve - pounders, five eight - pounders, 
 one seven-inch howitzer, with four hundred and thirteen 
 artillerists to serve them. That is to say, eighteen 
 thousand one hundred and thirty-three men were clos- 
 ing in behind the last ridge out on the waterless land in 
 front of Buena Vista. 1 
 
 These were commanded by the ablest generals of the 
 Mexican Republic, eager, each of them, to share with 
 his chief magistrate the harvest of glory which they 
 doubted not was ready for his reaping: Jose Minon, 
 Michel Torena, Pedro Ampudia, Manuel Andrade, Ig- 
 nacio de Mora y Villamil, Manuel Lombardini, Francisco 
 Pacheco, Julien Juvera, Jose Maria Ortega, Angel Guz- 
 man, Antonio Corona, Francisco Perez. 2 
 
 Santa Anna began the battle directly after the re- 
 jection of the demand for surrender by feigning an at- 
 tack along the road through the Pass of Angostura. 
 Then, amid a flourish of batteries in position here and 
 there, Ampudia's light brigade commenced swarming 
 up a ridge facing the American riflemen at General 
 Lane's left. All eyes on the plateau below turned to 
 follow the crackling which ensued. Ere long night hid 
 the combatants. Said Major Cravens, standing with me 
 
 1 This statement of numbers from Santa Anna's official report. 
 Commands not mentioned by him, however, brought his army to 
 over twenty thousand men actually engaged. 
 
 2 The reader is requested to give each of these names the honorable 
 prefix General Don. 
 
 72 
 
where his regiment lay trying to sleep: "I sat on my 
 blanket for hours watching the affair on the ridge yon- 
 der. I couldn't hear the rifles, but the sparkles reminded 
 me of June in Indiana and of fire-flies gleaming across a 
 meadow." 
 
 That Santa Anna designed turning the American left 
 by gaining the passageway at the base of the mountains 
 was now obvious. 
 
 To that end, under cover of night, he shifted Ballarta 
 to the right where, by a laborious pull up an eminence, 
 the shrewd artilleryman planted his five eight-pounders 
 in range to enfilade Bowles and O'Brien. Juvera, chief 
 of cavalry, together with Torrejon and Andrade, was 
 next posted in support of Ballarta. Then, to gain the 
 advantage of a surprise, the infantry divisions of Lom- 
 bardini and Pacheco, seven thousand strong, were 
 drawn noiselessly into a broad ravine where they 
 bivouacked. 
 
 On the morning of the 23d a furious outbreak of 
 Mexican artillery announced dawn over the mountains 
 and seemed a chosen signal of action. Ampudia at the 
 sound rushed the riflemen in his front; but reinforced 
 they held their own. Juvera gained ground, while Vil- 
 lamil and Blanco down in the pass lost heavily re- 
 peating the feint of the day before. 
 
 The desolate valley was yet ringing with the unwonted 
 thunder, when suddenly Lombardini's division burst out 
 of the broad ravine ; gaining space on the plateau, it faced 
 by the left flank, and in column of brigades confronted 
 O'Brien and the Second Indiana. 1 
 
 While the issue of fire waxed hot, another stream of 
 pomponed-shakos poured out of the same ravine, and 
 
 1 The execution of this manoeuvre was so beautiful that it was a 
 subject of general commendation while I was in General Taylor's 
 camp. 
 
 73 
 
Pacheco, repeating Lombardini's simple manoeuvre, took 
 post on his colleague's right and joined in the battle. 
 
 With all their weight, the Mexicans wavered. Then 
 to get closer, and partly to avoid the enfilading of Bal- 
 larta, General Lane ordered an advance. O'Brien obey- 
 ed; but in the midst of the movement Colonel Bowles 
 ordered, "Cease firing, and retreat." Twice he gave 
 the order; whereupon his regiment began breaking at 
 its right, company after company, until, presently, the 
 greater part dissolved into a mob flying aimlessly to 
 the rear. O'Brien, left without support, withdrew two 
 of his guns, the horses and men of the Third having 
 been killed or disabled. 
 
 Results followed rapidly. 
 
 Juvera advanced trotting. 
 
 The American riflemen in the mountain, about to be 
 cut off, made haste down, and ran, most of them, to the 
 hacienda, stopping in the corral. Of those who tried to 
 rejoin their standards, many were slain. 
 
 The Kentuckians at the left of the Second Indiana — 
 Marshall having reached them safely — faced to the rear, 
 and plying their spurs joined Colonel Gell on the thither- 
 side of La Bosca. 
 
 Most serious, however, between Lombardini and 
 Washington in the pass there now stood but three regi- 
 ments all seriously reduced — Bissell's Second Illinois, 
 McKee's Second Kentucky, and Hardin's First Illinois. 
 The gallant Mexican half-wheeled his battle front to the 
 left, and it seemed that the three regiments, beaten in 
 detail, must go the way of the Second Indiana; but Gen- 
 eral Wool kept a clear head. At his orders, Bissell fell 
 back, while Hardin and McKee advanced running to 
 him; and meeting, the three formed a line into which 
 Bragg and Sherman thrust their batteries. Then Lom- 
 bardini and Pacheco were upon them with a roar of 
 
 74 
 
''vivas"; the ravines as they approached reducing the 
 opposing fronts to an equality, it became a question 
 with the combatants which could longest endure the 
 killing. 
 
 Juvera allowed Marshall and Gell no pause. Crossing 
 La Bosca, he fell upon them, and pushed them back — 
 back almost to the corral of the hacienda. Gell, refus- 
 ing to yield an inch, died sword in hand. 
 
 Then in the nick of time — eight o'clock — General 
 Taylor appeared returning from Saltillo with the First 
 Mississippi and May's dragoons. By every rule of scien- 
 tific war he was beaten; 1 rising in his stirrups and look- 
 ing back he could see Minon's pennons fluttering between 
 the hacienda and the city; his left was turned; his cav- 
 alry was beating back overwhelmed; one thin line — 
 thinner for the smoke enveloping it — was hardly staying 
 Lombardini's masses seeking clutch of the Pass of An- 
 gostura. If then he had a sinking of the heart, no one 
 of those about him saw it in his stolid countenance. 
 Lane, of the Third Indiana, had been in reserve chafing; 
 him he ordered to join Davis; the two to cross La Bosca 
 and crush Pacheco's flank. One gun — Kilburn's — would 
 go with them. 
 
 Lane started on the run. Davis halted once to repel 
 an attack of lancers. Then about two hundred of the 
 Second Indiana under their own colors, and led by their 
 Lieutenant-Colonel (Hadden), met Davis, and, without 
 halting, formed on his left. It was a long run, but final- 
 ly the three regiments together reached La Bosca, and 
 crossing it, and deploying with cheers, poured a plung- 
 ing fire into Pacheco's column at a time when his at- 
 
 1 The story that General Wool rode to General Taylor upon the 
 latter's appearance on the field, and said to him, " We are beaten," 
 is apocryphal. At that moment the two were separate from each 
 other by a ravine too deep for passage by horsemen. 
 
 75 
 
^■1 
 
 nutty <th m$ 
 
tention was wholly absorbed by Hardin, McKce, and 
 Bissell. In a time incredibly short the portion of the 
 plateau down which Lombardini and Pacheco had de- 
 scended so triumphantly was clear of the living. Lom- 
 bardini himself rode off wounded. 
 
 General Taylor had leisure now to give attention to 
 the fight which had been going on strenuously between 
 Marshall and Juvera, begun, as has been seen, directly 
 that Colonel Bowles ordered his regiment to retreat. 
 
 Following and crowding Marshall, Juvera was drawn 
 down close to the hacienda. Suddenly the coping-stones 
 on three sides of the corral seemed to burst into flame. 
 The cheer that followed was as stunning as the volley. 
 Strangely, then, the Mexicans divided; one part of them 
 sped past the corral, and, crossing the valley, disap- 
 peared in a defile of the mountain in the west; the others 
 turned, and in great disorder rode just as madly back 
 over the bloody track by which they had come, intend- 
 ing to rejoin the main body of their army. Bragg was 
 sent to intercept them, with Davis, Lane, and Hadden 
 in support. The broken, panic-stricken horsemen tried 
 to find refuge in the foot-hills, where they would have 
 been forced to surrender had not Santa Anna despatched 
 a messenger to General Taylor asking what he wanted. 
 It is not often the sanctity of a flag of truce is so in- 
 famously abused. While it was coming and going the 
 enemy escaped. 
 
 At two o'clock the plateau was in possession of the 
 Americans, all save a corner in the southeast where the 
 enemy was in apparent confusion but busy about some- 
 thing. Occasionally the sullen report of a heavy gun 
 and the scream of a shell in flight over the ridges broke 
 an hour of inaction. The weary soldiers availed them- 
 selves of the calm to rest, lying in semi-order about their 
 colors. 
 
 77 
 
But Santa Anna was not beaten. The hour so wel- 
 come to his enemies, because of its quiet, was on his 
 part an hour of intrepid action. 
 
 Assembling the remains of the divisions of Lombar- 
 dini and Pacheco, he united them with Ampudia's light 
 brigade and Ortega's third division which was intact, 
 having been in reserve. He also moved to the right a 
 column of Villamil's that had been making feints against 
 Washington, and mobilized a battery of twenty-four- 
 pounders. Ballarta he brought down to the plain. 
 Corona had already posted the four twelve-pounders 
 in what he judged the best place. 
 
 By this thrifty management the president-general was 
 able to make his final attack with twelve thousand men, 
 General Don Francisco Perez in command. The strat- 
 egy was Napoleonic. 
 
 Colonels Hardin and McKee, it appears, had under- 
 taken a reconnoissance to expose the enemy in his cor- 
 ner of the plateau. Supporting O'Brien and his two 
 pieces, they reached the ground which the Second In- 
 diana had held in the morning; just then, Santa Anna's 
 preparation completed, Perez advanced. In the words 
 of General Taylor, both regiments were "entirely 
 routed"; and this time O'Brien lost all his guns. Har- 
 din and McKee and his lieutenant-colonel, } r oung Henry 
 Clay, refusing to retreat or to order retreat, died with 
 their faces to the foe. 1 
 
 The two regiments, carrying their heroic dead tender- 
 ly, retreated down a ravine opening into the pass under 
 Washington's breastwork. There were pursuers who 
 shot at them from the sides of the ravine; though a 
 greater multitude entered the ravine after them, and in 
 
 1 One cannot avoid contrasting the conduct of Hardin and McKee 
 and Clay with the behavior of Colonel Bowles; yet it was to the 
 latter the commanding general applied the term gallant. 
 
 78 
 
I m&r mmk 
 
their eagerness kept on until in the area spreading and 
 rockbound at the exit. There, looking up, they beheld 
 the mouths of Washington's five guns staring upon 
 them with unwinking blackness. They turned to get 
 back, but the crowd behind pushed them forward. 
 Washington withheld his fire; when the last fugitive 
 was safe, he opened upon the shrieking mass packed in 
 the area, his guns all double-shotted with grape and 
 canister. 1 
 
 Perez, depending upon weight of attack and impetus, 
 delivered it in column. 
 
 Still General Taylor was undismayed. He ordered 
 Bragg and his supports — Davis and Lane — to fall 
 upon the enemy's left flank, for which they had to re- 
 cross La Bosca; and they did it on the run, Hadden 
 with them. Then they were attacked; whereupon, 
 Davis directing, they formed a "V," the angle resting 
 on the edge of the ravine, and by the cross-fire they were 
 thus enabled to give ground swept the assailants from 
 their front; then they hurried after Bragg. 
 
 Bragg, meantime, pushed on with all the speed the 
 ground permitted, and without waiting for support. 
 When he wheeled his guns into battery, the enemy was 
 within a few yards of their muzzles, and at first he gave 
 
 1 That area, I do not hesitate saying, all my subsequent experience 
 in mind, was the most horrible after-battle scene I ever saw. The 
 dead lay in the pent space body on body, a blending and interlace- 
 ment of parts of men as defiant of the imagination as of the pen. 
 
 In 1867 I spent a day on the field of Buena Vista renewing my 
 recollections of 1847. I remember seeing a man coming slowly 
 towards me. In the distance his actions were so strange that I 
 waited for him. Hoe in hand, he was leading a rill of water some- 
 where, and it ran gently after him. Finally, and to my surprise, 
 he led it down to the area described in the text, then a patch of 
 wheat in luxurious growth. Could it have been, I asked myself, 
 that the crop he was fostering derived its emerald richness from the 
 blood spilled there the terrible day so long gone? 
 
 80 
 
ground as the pieces recoiled. Then it was that General 
 Taylor sent the famous order, "A little more grape, 
 Captain Bragg." And speaking of results, General 
 Taylor adds in his report, " The first discharge of canister 
 caused the enemy to hesitate; the second and third drove 
 him back in disorder, and the day was saved." 1 
 
 Six o'clock and the repulse was complete. Night 
 fell cold, and in the morning Santa Anna and all his 
 host, save the wounded and those never to rise again, 
 were back at Agua Nueva. 
 
 1 The italics are mine; the expression is General Taylor's. 
 
IX 
 
 General Taylor's report of the battle of Buena Vista — Report of 
 court of inquiry exonerating Indiana regiments charged with 
 cowardice — Colonel Bowles — A physician and botanist — Briga- 
 dier-General Lane — The battle. 
 
 In General Taylor's official report of the battle of 
 Buena Vista there is this sentence : 
 
 " The Second Indiana, which had fallen back as stated, 
 could not be rallied, and took no further part in the action, 
 except a handful of men who, under its gallant Colonel 
 Bowles, joined the Mississippi regiment and did good 
 
 I say now that in all American history there is not 
 another sentence which, taken as a judgment of men in 
 mass, equals that one for cruelty and injustice — none 
 so wanton in misstatement, none of malice so obsti- 
 nately adhered to by its author, none so comprehensive 
 in its damage, since it dishonored a whole state, and, 
 though half a century has passed, still holds the state 
 subject to stigma. 
 
 Let me now make my words good. It is necessary 
 in the very beginning to get the charges covered by 
 the extract quoted distinctly in mind. 
 
 General Taylor says the regiment fell back. That is 
 true; but as the statement is wholly unqualified, the 
 inference is left that the falling back was from cowardice, 
 and to that I except. 
 
 General Taylor says, next, that the regiment could 
 not be rallied. That I say is untrue. 
 
 82 
 
General Taylor says, in the third place, that the regi- 
 ment after it fell back took no further part in the action. 
 To this he makes an exception in favor of a "handful 
 of men who, under its gallant Colonel Bowles, joined the 
 Mississippi regiment and did good service." That, I 
 say, is one of those cunning partial truths which, by 
 forcing a contrast between the meritorious conduct of 
 a few and the supposed infamous conduct of the many, 
 but intensifies a wrong. 
 
 The question now presents itself, How am I to make 
 my exceptions good against General Taylor? By put- 
 ting my dictum against his ? The American people are 
 discriminative, and to none are they so generous as to 
 the dead; wherefore no one appreciates more keenly the 
 need upon me, which is that the testimony offered must 
 be of sanctity superior to his word. And that it shall be. 
 
 Colonel Jefferson Davis, learning, after the battle, 
 that Colonel Bowles, of the Second Indiana, had fallen 
 into the ranks of his Mississippi regiment as a private, 
 and behaved well, conceived the idea of specially recog- 
 nizing the conduct. So he ceremoniously presented to 
 Colonel Bowles the Mississippi rifle used by him. The 
 publicity of the affair affronted the survivors of the 
 Second Indiana, who held that acceptance of the present 
 was an admission to their dishonor. Then General Lane, 
 thinking to get the facts of the retreat of record, sought 
 a court of inquiry, the regiment having been part of his 
 command in the battle. 
 
 I now submit extracts from the records of that court, 
 premising that they are in Washington. 
 
 " (Orders No. 279.) 
 " Headquarters Camp at Buena Vista, April 26, 1847. 
 "1. By a court of inquiry which convened at this camp 
 in pursuance of Order No. 233, current series, and of which 
 
 83 
 
Brigadier-General Marshall is president, . . . the following 
 have been announced as the facts of the case. . . . 
 
 " Facts — . . . That through the exertions of General 
 Lane and other officers, from one hundred and fifty to two 
 hundred men of the Second Regiment of Indiana Volunteers 
 were rallied, and attached to the Mississippi regiment and 
 the Third Indiana, and remained with them on the field of 
 battle during the remainder of the day. 
 
 "By command of Brigadier-General Wool. 
 
 "Irvin McDowell, A. A.-General." 
 
 General Taylor said the regiment could not be rallied, 
 and after the retreat it took no further part in the action. 
 Attention is directed to the squareness of denial with 
 which the court meets the two assertions. 
 
 General Lane then determined to put the blame for 
 the retreat where it belonged ; and with that in view he 
 preferred charges against Colonel Bowles. These Gen- 
 eral Taylor ignored by declining to order a court. In 
 a short time, however, public opinion — the term is as 
 justly applicable to a camp as to a city — drove Colonel 
 Bowles in turn to ask a court of inquiry upon his con- 
 duct; and General Wool, who had succeeded to the 
 command at Buena Vista, ordered a court with Colonel 
 Bissell, of the Second Illinois Volunteers, for president, 
 and from its report I submit extracts, not doubting that 
 their pertinency will be instantly admitted. 
 
 " (Orders No. 281.) 
 
 " Headquarters Camp at Buena Vista, April 27, 1847. 
 
 "1. A court of inquiry, of which Colonel Bissell, Second 
 Illinois Volunteers, is president, convened at this camp 
 on the 12th instant, pursuant to Orders No. 267, current 
 series, being instituted at the request of Colonel W. A. 
 Bowles. . . . 
 
 84 
 
"The court, after diligently and faithfully inquiring into 
 the matter before it, report, from the evidence given, the 
 following as the facts of the case, and its opinion thereon: 
 
 "Statement of facts: — In reference to the first charge, 
 it appears from the evidence that Colonel Bowles is igno- 
 rant of the company, battalion, and brigade drills. . . . 
 
 "In relation to the second charge, it appears from the 
 evidence . . . that Colonel Bowles gave the order, ' Cease 
 firing, and retreat'; that General Lane was present, and 
 that he had no authority from General Lane to give such 
 an order. 
 
 "The court finds that the fact of Colonel Bowles having 
 given the order above mentioned did induce the regiment 
 to retreat in disorder, and that Colonel Bowles gave the order 
 with the intention of making the regiment leave its position. 
 
 "The court is of the opinion that at the time Colonel 
 Bowles gave the order, 'retreat/ he was under the impres- 
 sion that the artillery had retreated, when, in fact, the 
 battery at that time had gone to an advanced position 
 under the order of General Lane, which order had not been 
 communicated to Colonel Bowles. 
 
 "And in conclusion, the court finds that throughout the 
 engagement, and throughout the whole day, Colonel 
 Bowles evinced no want of personal courage or bravery, 
 but that he did manifest a want of capacity and judgment 
 as a commander. 
 
 "By command of Brigadier-General Wool. 
 
 "Irvin McDowell, A. A.-General." 
 
 The reader now has the evidence upon which I rely — 
 viz., the findings and opinions of two military courts; 
 not one, but two courts. To reach the full effect of the 
 clash in simple truth, I will resort to the deadly parallel, 
 the statement of General Taylor, on the one hand, and 
 the findings of the courts, on the other. 
 
 85 
 
GENERAL TAYLOR 
 
 General Taylor imputes 
 the falling back to cowar- 
 dice. 
 
 THE COURTS 
 
 Colonel BisselFs court 
 found that the regiment 
 was ordered by its colonel 
 to retreat; that the order, 
 "Cease firing, and retreat," 
 was given by its colonel to 
 induce the regiment to re- 
 treat, and that the colonel 
 did induce it to leave its 
 position. 
 
 General Taylor says the 
 regiment could not be ral- 
 lied. 
 
 General Marshall's court 
 found that from one hun- 
 dred and fifty to two hun- 
 dred men of the regiment 
 were rallied by General Lane 
 and other officers. 
 
 General Taylor says that 
 with exception of a handful 
 of men who, under its gal- 
 lant Colonel Bowles, joined 
 the Mississippi regiment, the 
 regiment took no further 
 part in the action. 
 
 General Marshall's court 
 found that the one hundred 
 and fifty or two hundred 
 men who were rallied re- 
 mained on the field of battle 
 during the rest of the day. 
 
 General Taylor says that 
 the exceptional handful of 
 men under Colonel Bowles 
 joined the Mississippi regi- 
 ment. 
 
 General Marshall's court 
 found that the one hundred 
 and fifty or two hundred 
 men who were rallied at- 
 tached themselves to the 
 Mississippi regiment and the 
 Third Indiana regiment. 
 
 These differences are material; and, being cast into 
 high relief, which is to be believed, the general or the 
 
 86 
 
courts? Admitting out of regard for certain suscep- 
 tibilities that, man to man, the volunteer is not as 
 effective in war as the regular, may not something in 
 this instance be allowed to preponderance, since all 
 military courts are composed of officers acting under 
 the solemnity of an oath? 
 
 But here some one may suggest that General Taylor 
 never saw the findings of either of the courts. It is 
 true his report of the battle was forwarded before the 
 trials were had; nevertheless, the facts remain as found, 
 and are not to be lost sight of; indeed, that they were 
 of subsequent discovery but intensifies the obstinacy 
 of the man. The records of the courts engrossed and 
 signed required his indorsement; so he must have seen 
 them. If that were not so, however, there is evidence 
 in plenty showing he was besought over and over, im- 
 portuned, begged, for the credit of the brave men in- 
 volved, the dead as well as the living, for the honor of a 
 state and for the truth of history, to modify his report 
 and make it conform to the findings of the courts. But 
 without avail. Why? The reason must remain for- 
 ever in theory. All I know is that commanders are 
 charged with keeping the honor of their men, the honor 
 of the humblest as well as that of those higher in rank, 
 and that they always hail opportunities to change pre- 
 mature reports harsh in terms or mistaken in fact. To 
 the rule Zachary Taylor is the only exception within 
 my reading or personal experience. 
 
 Taking the finding of the court to be the truth, the 
 small number found to have been rallied after the retreat 
 — one hundred and fifty or two hundred men — may cause 
 a smile, for prima facie it is a weakness in the argument. 
 That I will now notice, and in the connection consider 
 the propriety of the special compliment to Colonel Bowles 
 by General Taylor — a compliment the more remarkable 
 
 87 
 
in view of the opinion of the Bissell court touching the 
 colonel's general ignorance and incapacity as a com- 
 mander. 
 
 If in what I have now to say any statement should 
 have the tone and color of an eye-witness, it is because, 
 having reached the field so shortly after the battle — only 
 two days — I think my opportunities for information fit 
 me to speak of the things then in controversy there. 
 
 Colonel Bowles was a physician of scientific attain- 
 ments, brave, ambitious, pleasant-mannered, easy-go- 
 ing; but withal it was presently demonstrated that he 
 could not master the elementaries of the tactics in vogue 
 at the time of his enlistment. To make the situation 
 worse for him an extreme attachment had arisen be- 
 tween the regiment and its late colonel, Lane. That 
 officer continued to tent with it after his promotion, and 
 carried it with him as often as he changed location. The 
 relation was precisely that which sprang up between 
 General Taylor and the First Mississippi. Practically, 
 General Lane remained colonel to the suppression of 
 Colonel Bowles. He looked after the discipline and per- 
 sonal welfare of the men. He drilled them, and they 
 were beautifully drilled. To this Colonel Bowles made 
 no objection. His tastes ran in other lines. I myself 
 have seen him while the regiment was on the parade- 
 ground under General Lane ride into camp bringing bo- 
 tanical specimens of the flora of the adjacent country. 
 He seemed incapable of jealousy. Certainly he had no 
 sense of the awful responsibility of command in battle. 
 The men treated him good-naturedly. None of them 
 dreamed that under his order the ultimate martial is- 
 sue to which they looked forward so ardently would 
 turn out a life-long provocation of tears and shame. 
 
 The statement to which I now come will be a surprise 
 to those who have of late been used to hearing of regi- 
 
 88 
 
merits twelve hundred strong. At roll-call in the 
 morning of February 23d, the total of muskets in the 
 stacks of the Second Indiana did not exceed three hun- 
 dred and sixty. Two companies (Walker's and Os- 
 borne's) had been drawn off the day before to help form 
 a provisional battalion of rifles under Major Gorman, 
 of the Third Indiana, leaving with the colors eight com- 
 panies averaging forty-five men in the ranks. 
 
 Nor may it be overlooked that the Third Indiana 
 having been placed in reserve by General Wool, all of 
 actual command possessed by Brigadier-General Lane 
 was the Second Indiana and O'Brien's battery of three 
 guns. We have then the anomaly, brought about by 
 the relation Lane bore to the Second Indiana, of a regi- 
 ment going into battle with practically two colonels. 
 One cannot help asking, what if in the turmoil and 
 noise the orders of the two colonels should happen to 
 conflict? Or, to illustrate, what if one of them should 
 order " Forward," and the other, moved by a different 
 inspiration, should order "Retreat?" 
 
 The air had been uncomfortably cold through the 
 night of the 23d, so, what time they were not trying to 
 sleep, the men walked behind their arms in stack, and 
 sang and joked and amused themselves watching the 
 flitting flashes of the combatant rifles on the overlook- 
 ing heights. 
 
 By three o'clock everybody was on the alert. Then, 
 dawn being yet in half- transparency, the deadly busi- 
 ness of the day was begun by the Mexicans, of whom a 
 swarm sprang out and spread darkly up and over the 
 low foot-hills next the plateau, going to the assistance 
 of their balking skirmishers. Then on an elevation, 
 advanced well towards the Second Indiana, masses of 
 men appeared dragging guns into position, five in all. 
 General Lane, on his horse and watchful, knew that it 
 
 89 
 
would never do for the fire of that battery (Ballarta's) 
 to catch his companies unformed, and he ordered the 
 regiment, "Fall in" — he, be it observed, not Colonel 
 Bowles. Just then the quick report of artillery rolled 
 over the plateau far and near. A few minutes later 
 Colonel Churchill, of General Wool's staff, rode to tell 
 Lane that the enemy was showing down in the road in 
 feint, while the real attack was coming against him up 
 the first ravine in his front. Without a word to Colonel 
 Bowles, who was in rear of the extreme right company, 
 Lane galloped round the left flank of the regiment to a 
 position in front of the colors. He made there as if to 
 deliver a speech; but, observing the alignment merely, 
 he ordered, "Forward — guide centre — march," after 
 which the double colonelcy was an established fact. 
 Well, now, if the real colonel does not awake from his 
 suppression and do some contrary thing which strikes 
 him as the best! Promptly, as if on parade, the regi- 
 ment stepped out, and O'Brien advanced his three 
 guns. 
 
 Then out of the ravine, number one, towards which 
 Lane was heading, a military band richly uniformed 
 appeared and began playing the national air of Mexico. 
 The regiment, observing it, cheered, and took step from 
 the inspiring music. Only for a moment, however, for 
 the band, which did not halt, was succeeded by an array 
 seemingly interminable of infantry in double columns, 
 flag after flag. Suddenly, space being cleared for the 
 manoeuvre, the enemy faced by the left flank, and be- 
 came a line of battle masking another line. Up, too, 
 from the same ravine in rapid succession other shakoed 
 bodies poured and repeated the manoeuvre of the first 
 until two full divisions (Lombardini's and Pacheco's) 
 moved forward, a splendid but terrible spectacle. 
 
 General Lane's object in advancing had been partly 
 
 90 
 
to reach a point from which to control the ravine before 
 the enemy gained the plateau. Seeing that it was too 
 late, he halted the regiment and sent his aide to order 
 O'Brien into battery; then, clearing the line of fire, he 
 galloped to the rear by the left flank. Had he gone by 
 the right flank, he could have spoken to the other col- 
 onel there and told him Ids wishes; as it was, he did all 
 the commanding directly; at his word the men went to 
 their knees; at his word they began firing. 
 
 Then O'Brien opening, Ballarta quickened all his 
 guns, so that now, indeed, the battle for the plateau 
 was joined. 
 
 Of the generalship I have nothing to say. My pur- 
 pose is to help to an intelligent judgment of the conduct 
 of the regiment in question. 
 
 There are but three hundred and sixty men in the 
 ranks. Enfilading them from left to right, and within 
 easy range, is a battery of five eight - pounder guns. 
 Advancing upon them in brigade front, thus over- 
 lapping their own front, are infantry columns of two 
 divisions variously estimated, the most recent authority 
 putting their strength at seven thousand — eighteen to 
 one! 
 
 The regiment is nearly a quarter of a mile in advance 
 of the regiment (Bissell's Second Illinois) next it in the 
 echelon of formation— literally on the plateau alone, and 
 unsupported, except we reverse the order of things and 
 call O'Brien's three guns a support. 
 
 Lastly, this is the regiment's first battle, and I see 
 no need of stopping to tell what all that means. Set 
 upon by everything that makes battle terrible — over- 
 whelming numbers in front, bullets swishing about them, 
 shells bursting, comrades falling — if General Taylor was 
 right, and that a band of cowards, it will certainly break 
 now. 
 
 91 
 
Did they break? 
 
 In the box of every man of them there are forty car- 
 tridges, each with a bullet and three buckshot, and load- 
 ing by rammer was a slow process; yet the Mexicans 
 are brought to a halt, and their shooting grows wilder. 
 The distance is about a hundred yards. Some of ours, 
 to be sure, are white of face. A breeze blows fitfully lift- 
 ing the smoke, so that now and then the very cool among 
 them take deliberate aim, and that means death, for 
 at home they are woodsmen and hunters. The first 
 chill goes quickly — then they are all steady. 
 
 Dante, in his Inferno, speaks of all horrible sounds, 
 but nowhere of music; so in battle the noises are mostly 
 explosive discordances; still one can become so intent 
 upon his individual performance, whether with sword, 
 musket, or great gun, that action becomes automatic. 
 That was what now happened. The men loaded and 
 fired, and heard nothing, neither whistle of bullet nor 
 shriek of shell or stricken comrade. How full the air 
 was of missiles may be judged. In the first position of 
 the regiment twenty-one of the forty cartridges were 
 fired. Of the three hundred and sixty combatants in 
 the ranks ninety dropped dead or disabled by wounds. 
 The color-sergeant fell. Seeing the flag go down, Pay- 
 master Dix, a volunteer aide with General Lane, being 
 near, ran and picked it up, and kept it flying until 
 Lieutenant Kunkel demanded it of him. Kunkel, 
 brave fellow, bore it the rest of the day, a mark for the 
 enemy, a brave sight for countrymen, if only they chose 
 to see it. My poor friend and school-mate, Captain 
 Kinder, was hit though not mortally wounded. The 
 lancers overtook and killed him in an ambulance. Gen- 
 eral Lane, in the act of cheering, was shot in the right 
 arm; a hot canister cauterized his cheek; his horse's 
 lower jaw was broken. And now, on account of Bal- 
 
 92 
 
larta's gunners, it was needful to shift the regiment. 
 Forward or back? Just then General Lane saw the 
 Mexicans in his front faltering, and he resolved to get 
 closer to them. O'Brien must advance. Robinson, 
 Lane's adjutant -general, delivered the order, and it 
 was instantly obeyed. From his place behind McRae's 
 company, the last one on the left, Lane called out, 
 "Forward" — when horror of horrors! The right was 
 going to pieces, and streaming to the rear fast as man 
 could run. 
 
 The point of sovereign interest in this most dismal 
 episode at Buena Vista is reached. In certain books, 
 favorites of mine, the catastrophes cause me the keen- 
 est anguish. Such is the effect of the fall of Harold 
 in Bulwer's novel of that name. Such, also, is the 
 death of Uncas in Cooper's Last of the Mohicans. So 
 always, thinking of the break and flight of the Second 
 Indiana in the midst of its well-doing, I have return of 
 the same pang sharper of a conviction that had the 
 brave fellows been held to the work three or five min- 
 utes longer, single-handed they would have routed the 
 divisions before them. And then what glory would 
 have been theirs ! And how the state would have shone 
 in the reflected light! 
 
 Thanks now to the courts, there is no mystery about 
 the cause of the break. We know it was by order. We 
 know, too, by whose order. Wherefore the question — as 
 the court says Colonel Bowles was not a coward, as 
 General Taylor pronounces him gallant, how could he 
 upon his own volition have done a thing so shameful? 
 
 The circumstance is one about which everybody can 
 have a theory. I will give mine. The moment General 
 Lane, at the left of the regiment, conceived the idea of 
 shifting it nearer the enemy, Colonel Bowles, over on 
 the right, dismounted, and, too far off for instant com- 
 
 94 
 
mimical" ion with his chief, was in a confusion of senses 
 begotten, doubtless, of a consciousness of incapacity, 
 not to speak of the sounds that assailed him, discordant, 
 furious, cyclonic. Old soldiers who have been in the 
 heat of battles know how those sounds do actually buf- 
 fet one as with blows, and how they are attended with 
 stupefying sensations. Anyhow, holding his horse, if 
 not behind it, he chanced to look through a rift in the 
 smoke, and, not seeing O'Brien or his battery, was seized 
 with an inspiration the opposite of General Lane's. He 
 heard no voice of glory calling. If he saw an advantage, 
 it was in getting the men and himself out of the tre- 
 mendous broil; and not knowing how to do that by 
 manoeuvre, though there are a number of methods pre- 
 scribed in the books; without thinking to send the 
 flag back to indicate a place of rally; too much dazed, 
 indeed, to remember that he himself was subject to 
 order; too confused to consider anything but escape in 
 the quickest possible time, he called out, "Cease firing, 
 and — retreat," and in those words, doubtless, exhausting 
 his slender store of tactical knowledge. Only the com- 
 pany nearest heard what he said, and they turned and 
 gazed at him in wonder. A second time he raised his 
 voice — "Cease firing, and — retreat." 
 
 Now no man shall say this was not an order. It was 
 an order, and by one in authority. And at once all the 
 shame of the flight that followed attaches to him who 
 gave the order — the gallant Colonel Bowles. 
 
 In the next place there was a rally; and while in camp 
 I myself heard the details of it, and am not permitted 
 to doubt what I heard — else there is not honor among 
 men. 
 
 General Lane, looking ahead, saw La Bosca, in the 
 ravine, laying a broad trench across the line of flight, 
 and rode to it full speed, taking Lieutenant-Colonel 
 
 95 
 
LEW WALLACE 
 
 Hadden and Major Cravens with him. Wheeling his 
 horse on the thither side, he confronted the men. 
 Fifteen of them in panic ran by him to the sheep-ranch 
 nearly a mile away. There, with others from different 
 commands, mostly riflemen dislodged, as we shall pres- 
 ently see, they did good service later in the forenoon. 
 Quite one hundred and ninety of the regiment heard him 
 and hastened to reform; and when presently Lieutenant 
 Kunkel overtook the body with the colors, an account- 
 ing for the absent was easy. This was the table gen- 
 erally agreed upon in the leisure following the fight: 
 
 Killed and wounded 90 
 
 Absent in care of the wounded 40 
 
 Rallied by Colonel Bowles 25 
 
 Rallied at the sheep-ranch 15 
 
 Rallied by General Lee and other officers . . .190 
 
 360 
 
 Is it reasonable, now, asking more proof of me? Out 
 of a total of three hundred and sixty men, two hundred 
 and fifteen back under their own colors, ought, I insist, 
 to be fact enough of itself, the question being whether 
 there was a rally. Then, as to courage, ninety killed 
 and wounded before the order to retreat — ninety out 
 of three hundred and sixty — one-fourth of the entire 
 firing-line! How often has battle anywhere such a 
 record of proportional loss? 
 
 We come next to the compliment to Colonel Bowles 
 paid, as has been seen, by General Taylor. The colonel 
 ordered the retreat; he rallied what his eulogist calls a 
 handful of the men; then, rifle in hand, he spent the rest 
 of the day a private soldier, loading and firing in the 
 front or rear rank of a strange regiment. What is gal- 
 lantry in a private may be unqualified shame in an 
 
 96 
 
officer. This bit of military philosophy was never so 
 pointedly illustrated as by Colonel Bowles when he 
 stepped into the ranks of the Mississippians. The situa- 
 tion at the moment is worth an effort at appreciation. 
 It is after the rally on the farther side of La Bosca. The 
 one hundred and ninety of the Second Indiana are about 
 to attach themselves to Colonel Davis's command. 
 They are under their own colors. Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Hadden is in command. The crisis is terrible. Where 
 is Colonel Bowles? I know nothing in war so strange 
 as his conduct in that thrilling instant. With his ral- 
 lied "handful" he approaches the Mississippians. First 
 securing a rifle and cartridges — let us suppose from a 
 wounded man or one dead — he takes place in the ranks 
 unobserved by the strangers. Near by is his own regi- 
 ment. Their colors are his colors. He is entitled to 
 command them. They are the men who voted him 
 colonel, with whom he has tented and marched and 
 lived the whole of his soldier life. He must have seen 
 them — he must have seen the flag. Why did he turn 
 away and abandon them to become for the time a 
 Mississippian ? Why prefer the strangers? Why? The 
 question has a depth beyond me. But — and this is the 
 application — what of gallantry is there in the behavior? 1 
 Finally, on the point of cowardice. I am a dissenter 
 
 1 General O.O. Howard is the most recent author of a biography 
 of General Taylor. In the book he adopts his subject's view of the 
 conduct of the Second Indiana, thinking it not worth while to look 
 behind that officer's report of the battle of Buena Vista. 
 
 Here is a sample of his dealing. Summarizing — page 271 — he 
 says: "Arkansas, Kentucky, Illinois, Mississippi, Texas, and some 
 Indiana men had fought hard all this dreadful day." By the table 
 on page 192, General Howard is right. There were some Indiana 
 men who fought hard; indeed, there were some wounded, others 
 actually killed. As he has the reputation of a Christian gentleman, 
 not to speak of him as a brave soldier, the table quoted is especially 
 recommended to him. 
 
 97 
 
to the opinion often urged that the sovereign test of 
 the conduct of a corps in battle is the list of casualties; 
 still, to apply that test in this instance, here is a table 
 of losses by commands at Buena Vista compiled from 
 official returns: 
 
 Corps 
 
 General staff 
 
 1st Dragoons 
 
 2d Dragoons 
 
 3d Artillery 
 
 4th Artillery 
 
 Mississippi Rifles. 
 Kentucky Cavalry 
 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 be 
 a 
 
 2 
 
 <j> 
 "a 
 be 
 
 M 
 
 be 
 < 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 22 
 
 2 
 
 25 
 
 5 
 
 21 
 
 
 26 
 
 40 
 
 5(5 
 
 2 
 
 98 
 
 27 
 
 37 
 
 
 61 
 
 74 
 
 148 
 
 4 
 
 223 
 
 Corps 
 
 Brought over 
 
 Arkansas Cavalry. . . 
 2d Kentucky Cavalry 
 1st Illinois regiment. 
 2d Illinois regiment. 
 2d Indiana regiment. 
 3d Indiana regiment. 
 Texas Volunteers 
 
 
 •o 
 
 be 
 
 a 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 u 
 
 £ 
 
 3 
 
 74 
 
 148 
 
 4 
 
 17 
 
 32 
 
 4 
 
 44 
 
 57 
 
 1 
 
 29 
 
 18 
 
 
 48 
 
 75 
 
 3 
 
 32 
 
 71 
 
 4 
 
 9 
 
 56 
 
 
 14 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 267 
 
 459 
 
 23 
 
 223 
 53 
 
 102 
 47 
 
 116 
 
 107 
 65 
 23 
 
 When the intelligent reader, far removed from the 
 petty jealousies of the men who fought at Buena Vista, 
 reads that table, and sees, as he certainly will, that there 
 was but one regiment with more casualties than the 
 Second Indiana, he will wonder greatly, but at nothing 
 so much as the general commanding. There may even 
 come to him reading a realization of the lamentable fact 
 that a man may have been a successful general and 
 popular president of the United States, yet lack the 
 elements without which no one can be truly great — 
 justice and truth. 
 
Departure from Walnut Springs, Ma3' 24, 1847 — Mustered out — 
 Reception at New Orleans — Sergeant S. Prentiss — Robbed of 
 savings — Return to Indianapolis — Resume law — The Fair God — 
 Apply for license again from the Supreme Court. 
 
 On May 24, 1847, the First Indiana left Walnut 
 Springs going to "the States" for muster out. 
 
 At the mouth of the Rio Grande, while waiting for 
 transports, I strolled out to the dunes so thickly peopled 
 with our dead. The revelations were shocking. Re- 
 porting what I had seen, the good colonel ordered me 
 to take a working party and rebury all exposed remains. 
 The sorrowful duty done, I lingered to take a farewell 
 look at the shifting cemetery, wondering if the govern- 
 ment would ever set about bringing the bones of the 
 brave back to Indiana. Fifty years are a long time out 
 of one's life to wait for anything; and now I know that 
 accomplishment will never be. The poor fellows are 
 abandoned. Even the home folk last to love them are 
 themselves departed. Only the Great Gulf lifts a voice 
 for them — an inarticulate, everlasting moan. 
 
 At New Orleans, a number of regiments having ar- 
 rived with terms of service expiring, the city received 
 us. A poor affair, indeed, cheap, and unworthy men- 
 tion were it not that Sergeant S. Prentiss was the 
 chosen orator. I went to hear him. 
 
 The absence of decorations along the streets struck 
 me dismally while passing to the square selected for the 
 ceremony. Cut off for such a time from newspapers, I 
 
 99 
 
had failed to appreciate that the war had been discussed 
 with such bitterness that at least half the people viewed 
 it as an unholy invasion. Of course all holding that 
 opinion were unwilling to jubilate. They kept their 
 flags hid and stuck to their shops. 
 
 The preparations in the square were meagre and dis- 
 appointing. There was the usual out-door platform of 
 boards, raised three or four feet from the ground, railed 
 off on three sides, and decorated with a flag tied to a 
 corner post. Scarcely two thousand people stood about 
 the platform, which was crowded with field-officers and 
 black-coated civilians of aldermanic proportions. Fail- 
 ing to get a seat among the dignitaries, I elbowed my- 
 self back of the stand, where, with my toes in a crack 
 of the base -boards, and half swinging by the fingers 
 from the railing, I made out to see the speaker when he 
 arose. 
 
 Mr. Prentiss was at his height of fame. I remember 
 his appearance distinctly. He was rather low in stature, 
 full-chested, clean-shaven, and faultlessly dressed. His 
 head was ample, round, superbly set. The brows arched 
 high, allowing the large eyes to fill with light — eyes 
 that would have made an ugly face beautiful. Eyes, 
 countenance, head, mouth permissive of every variety 
 of expression, profile, attitude, the whole man, in fact, 
 brought me to think of pictures of Lord Byron. Like 
 Byron, moreover, he was clubbed in one foot. I had 
 intended taking a glance at him, hear his opening, then 
 go away. To my astonishment, when he sat down more 
 than an hour had passed. I had heard every word in 
 rapt unconsciousness of my discomforts. In moments 
 when his face was turned fully to me I caught the seem- 
 ing transfiguration elsewhere alluded to. No other 
 orator ever held me so completely. Of the singers whom 
 I have been permitted to hear, not even the divine 
 
 100 
 
Patti ruled me half so tyrannically. Bearded and 
 bronzed as were the soldiers of his audience, they cried 
 till the tears left glistening paths down their cheeks. 
 I alighted from my perch sore and cramped; but from 
 that day to this I have never regretted the year left 
 behind me as a soldier in Mexico; neither have I at any 
 time since been troubled with a qualm about the pro- 
 priety even to righteousness of the war. Saying noth- 
 ing about the glory won, our country has been in every 
 respect greater and better of its consequences. 
 
PS-10-30 
 H-T 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS URBANA 
 
 B.W191W1H C001 
 
 A HOOSIER IN THE MEXICAN WAR FORT WAYNE 
 
 3 0112 025409738