Soldiers of Conquest (30 page)

“Come in out of the rain,” General Pierce called to Lee upon his knock on the wooden tent pole. “You looked drowned.”

Lee entered, shook some of the water off, and saluted. “Nearly am, general,” Lee said. Pierce had been forced to his bed when injured by the fall of his horse upon the rough lava. Why did generals feel they had to be horseback when lesser men had to walk?

“What brings you out in the rain?”

“To inform General Scott that General Smith will attack Padierna at first light tomorrow. He strongly requests a demonstration be made in front of the hill. Where is General Scott, sir?”

“General Scott and Twiggs both have returned to San Augustin.”

“Then I must be on my way.” He felt time running out for him to help Smith and his men.

Lee saluted quickly, pushed the flap of the tent open, and plunged back into the rain and wind. There was another three miles of lava to cover.

*

Close to exhaustion, Lee finally saw the dim lights of San Augustin. Dripping water from the rain and every muscle aching with weariness, he passed through the sentries and came to Scott's headquarters. He was surprised to find Scott up and writing at his desk for the time was near midnight.

“Come in, major!” Scott exclaimed upon seeing Lee at his door. He jumped up from his desk and came forward and clasped Lee by the hand. “My, God, man, you look beat. Take a seat.” He motioned Lee to the nearest chair.

“You have news from the front?” Scott asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“What's the situation?” Scott asked anxiously.

“General Smith will attack Padierna at daybreak, and he'll attack from the rear and has asked for a demonstration in front of the hill.” Lee said. “Santa-Anna has assembled some four or five divisions just to the north to threaten the operation. The brigades of Cadwalader and Riley will try to hold Santa-Anna off while Smith's assaults the hill.”

Scott instantly grasped the situation and knew what was required. He turned to the door and shouted. “Sergeant, bring general Twiggs here on the double. On the double, I say.”

“Now give me the details,” Scott said to Lee.

They had talked but a moment when Old Davey entered. Scott faced about from talking with Lee.

“General Twiggs, a demonstration is needed before Padierna. And it's needed at first light.” Scott turned back to Lee. “How many men would you recommend?”

“A full regiment to join up with the four companies and three batteries of artillery already there. We must convince the Mexicans that we're going to strike in strength.”

“Make it a regiment,” Scott said to Twiggs.

“I'll use one of Pierce's that's at Zacatepec for it's the nearest.”

“Then be on your way,” Scott said and prodding Twiggs to hurry.

“I'll need a guide,” Twiggs said and looking at Lee with his meaning clear.

Lee heart sank at the general's words. He had been moving steadily without rest since daybreak, and had crossed the lava twice. He wanted to get dry and warm. Then something to eat, a long drink of water, and to sleep.

“Yes, sir, I'll go with you,” Lee said.

“I'll have my horse saddled and be ready to go in ten minutes. Meet me at my quarters.”

*

The rain dwindled down to a fine drizzle and ended shortly after Lee and Old Davey left headquarters. The clouds became broken and the moon found gaps in them and cast a pale silver glow down onto the lava road. The light allowed the men to hold their mounts to a fast walk with the iron sod hooves of the horses clanking dully on the black rock.

They reached Pierce's bivouac and the sergeant of the headquarters' guards let them approach. At the general's bid to enter, Twiggs pushed inside the tent and immediately plopped down on a chair. Lee wearily took a second one.

“General Pierce, form up a regiment, every man Jack of them, and get it to Pillow before daylight,” Twiggs said without preamble and mopping his sweating, red face with a handkerchief. “Smith needs a demonstration in front of Padierna.”

“I'm unable to walk,” Pierce said from his bed. “I'll send Colonel Ransom and his 69
^th
.”

Pierce raised his voice and called, “Sergeant, do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Find Colonel Ransom and tell him to report here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Colonel Ransom, a large, strongly built man, came into the tent and saluted the generals. “Yes, sir,” he said and looking at Pierce.

Pierce swiftly gave the colonel his orders to march his regiment. “And be certain that you have all your battle flags flying and bayonets fixed and that everything can be seen by the Mexicans on the hill,” Pierce directed.

“General, none of my men nor have I been over the lava in the direction of Padierna. I don't believe it's possible to lead my regiment there until daylight.”

Lee had been sitting with a stupor of weariness settling over him, but now it was washed away by the sudden flash of temper at Ransom's statement of inability to carry out a mission. He spoke quickly, harshly, and forever afterwards would blame his loss of control to his weariness “Colonel, General Smith is moving right now with nine hundred of our boys to attack more than five thousand Mexicans in strong entrenchments. By God, he needs your regiment in front of Padierna by dawn.”

There was a silent gasp from the three senior officers, and their eyes whipped around to focus on Lee.

“So I'll guide you for I've been over the route four times,” Lee hastily added to cover his lapse of protocol.

“I accept your help,” Ransom said, his expression showing anger at Lee's rebuke, but also pleased that he had been gotten off the hook of his own blunder of complaining about the difficulty of carrying out an order.

*

Lee and Ransom with his regiment of infantrymen arrived at the western edge of the Pedregal in the first gray light of dawn. The three artillery batteries were directly ahead of Lee and he could see the infantry already present were spread equally left and right.

“I recommend your men would be most visible if they were to extend the line both directions,” Lee said and pointing out through the murk lying thick on the lava

Ransom had not said a word to Lee during the march from Zacatepec, and he didn't now. He looked at Pillow standing nearby for orders. Pillow was busy glassing the Mexican entrenchments on the hill rising steeply just beyond the swift creek at their feet. Ransom shrugged and turned to his company captains that had gathered behind him.

“By alternate companies file left and right to extend the line. Once in position, draw all charges and load fresh ones. Then fix bayonets and show your flags. Don't let your men hide in the rocks, but make them show themselves so they can be counted by the Mexicans. Stand ready to advance on the enemy at my command.”

A murmur of “Yes, sirs” rose from the captains.

The dawn grew brighter and Lee could see the companies of American infantry in their blue uniforms standing on top of the lava and facing Padierna. Bayonets had been unsheathed and fixed to musket barrels, and the company flags were unfurled and the staffs held high. A strong sense of pride swept over Lee and he felt good despite his near exhaustion. He had done his part, but where was Smith and his nine hundred.

The Mexicans cannons began to roar. Iron balls fell upon the American position. Here and there a man fell. The American cannons answered the fire pouring down upon them.

Lee heard a slackening in the Mexican fire. Through his glasses he noted confusion of the men in the entrenchments, with men looking behind them and up the hill. Then came the roar of volleys of musket fire from the crest of the hill above the Mexican guns and men began to fall in the trenches.

Blue clad men came streaming down the hillside in a running charge at the Mexicans. Seeing Smith's infantry, Ransom shouted at his men and they dropped down the steep incline into the stream and up the far side through Mexican fire. Caught between the two American forces, scores of Mexicans leapt out of the trenches and fled. In other places Mexicans fought stoutly and fierce fighting with glint of bayonet and boil of gun smoke swirled across the hillside.

Lee saw Smith's men turning captured Mexican guns and hurling shot after shot into the fleeing enemy. They ceased firing only when Ransom's men got so close that they would be hit.

Lee saw the tide turn fully with enemy soldiers retreating in large numbers. Then the pockets of fighting ended. In but a quarter-hour after the first volley from American muskets, the firing was stilled, with the entire Mexican earthworks in the hands of the invader.

Those of the Mexican garrison who had abandoned the fighting early on were fleeing up the San Angel Road. Lee saw hundreds of the Mexican army on the plateau north of Riley and Cadwalader were also caught up in the panic and joining in the wholesale rout toward Mexico City. Riley's and Cadwalader's brigades were hustling to cut off the road and prevent more Mexicans from escaping. Already large numbers of prisoners were being rounded up.

Smith's brigade came down off the hill and onto the San Angel Road. Yelling shrill cries of victory, they ran full tilt to catch the fleeing Mexican soldiers. Mexican cavalry, spurring their horses to outdistance the pursuing Americans, trampled many of their own infantrymen under the hooves of their mounts.

Now was the time to strike the remainder of Santa-Anna's army, Lee thought. He hurried to his horse and hastened back across the lava to tell General Scott of the grand victory at Contreras.

He met Scott and his escort hurrying west mid-way of the lava field. Hearing the news, Scott lead them on to the San Angel Road and then north on the seven mile ride to Coyoacan.

For two days Grant with the Fourth Infantry of Garland's brigade lay threatening the fortified hacienda of San Antonio and listened to Pillows division trade artillery and musket fire with the Mexicans near Contreras. They waited for Worth to give orders to move his division forward along the Acapulco Road and upon San Antonio once the enemy positions at Contreras had been taken. Grant didn't want for this to be like Cerro Gordo where he was held back while other men did the fighting.

With the morning breaking, Grant and several other officers had gone into the Pedregal and climbed to a ridge of lava and were glassing to the west four miles to the enemy entrenched on the hill adjacent to the San Angel Road. Now the first sound of artillery of the morning reached them, and seconds later the roar of a huge volume of musket fire came rolling over the lava.

“The attack has begun,” Hazlit said from beside Grant.

“Yes, the cat's in the cradle now,” Grant replied and still looking westward. Through his field glasses he saw the defenders desert their positions and run down the hillside to the road. A much larger gathering of troops to the north of the hill was also breaking and flooding down to the San Angel Road and fleeing toward the capital.

The bugle call to assemble pealed out from where Worth had positioned himself in the forefront of his men and the officers hastened off the lava and to their assigned stations. Clarke's brigade moved out, veering left onto the lava to flank San Antonio and strike it from the north. Once Clarke was in place, Garland's brigade would drive straight ahead up the causeway in a frontal assault.

Grant felt ready for the battle, more than that, he was anticipating the exhilaration and danger of combat. The realization came that he was always ready for a fight. At that thought, a cold tingle ran up his spine. Was there something wrong with him? Or were there many men who felt as he did? One thing he knew, that a man who fought bravely could kill more enemies.

Grant kept a wary eye on San Antonio. Near noon Clarke's brigade drew opposite the hacienda, he spotted the defenders streaming out through the gates and hastening up the Acapulco Road toward the Churubusco River some two miles away. Clarke abruptly turned his men toward the causeway. They came again upon the raised roadway just ahead of Garland's brigade. Worth hastened his long, drawn out division of men after the retreating Mexicans.

The morning sun shone hot on the green maguey and cornfields lining the Acapulco Road, and on Grant and the Fourth Infantry as they led Garland's brigade chasing the retreating Mexican infantry, cavalry, artillery, wagons, mules, and carriages. After two miles, they approached the place where the causeway crossed the Churubusco River. On the left of the road and in front of the river, stood the Franciscan convent of San Mateo. Grant was immediately apprehensive for he knew convents with their massive stone walls made stout forts.

As if his thoughts had caused it, cannons and muskets roared up ahead. Immediately there erupted a bedlam of shouts and cries from wounded and terrified men and horses. Grant raised his glasses to look. Worth had blundered upon heavily defended Mexican positions and the lead elements of Clarke's brigade were being hit by cannon and musket fire from the convent and the earthworks that extended from it to the bridge, and from breastworks and entrenched rows of cannon and riflemen along the high bank on the far side of the river. The convent was the strongest position. It consisted of the convent building with its dormitories, a church with a parapet roof, a high stone enclosure, a broad water filled ditch, two outside bastions, and stout breastworks on the west and south.

Grant saw Worth and Clarke waving their swords and riding among the men and ordering them off the causeway and into the thick stands of corn in the fields. “Damn you, Worth!” Grant thought. You should've had scouts out front to spot the fortified positions. Worth with his usual impetuous manner had moved forward recklessly and now his men were paying the butchers bill.

Hazlitt ran up beside Grant. ”That bastard Worth has done it again,” Hazlitt shouted and almost crying.

“The Sixth is breaking,” Grant said in a flat, unruffled voice and wanting to calm Hazlitt down. The Sixth was one of Clarke's infantry regiments. Grant saw men and horses falling under sheets of grape, round shot, and musket balls.