Soldiers of Conquest (45 page)

“The general wanted a load of sick and wounded taken to ships waiting at Veracruz. Then it's on to New Orleans for them.”

”They'll be glad to get home.”

“Chilton's with me. Talk with him when you get a chance. Sophia died and he's feeling bad.”

“I'll do that.”

“Where are Hays and Lane. Since I'm going to Veracruz, I thought that I could take any of their men that are wounded with me to the hospital there.”

“Both rode into Jalapa to buy provisions. We've been chasing guerillas long and hard and are short of everything.”

“I'll talk with them later on this evening.”

Cavallin was looking past Grant. “Here come one of my boys and he's in a hurry.”

The Ranger stopped by Cavallin. “Lieutenant, I heard something in town that you'll be glad to know. Santa-Anna's coming, and he's just a few miles up the road. People are saying that he's leaving the country.”

“That sonofabitch has his nerve coming past us,” Cavallin said.

“Tom, he probably doesn't know you're here,” Grant said. “He's got a safe conduct pass from General Butler so you can't bother him.”

“I know about the pass for we've been told to stop hunting him.”

“I'll tell the other men,” said the Ranger and hurried off through the camp and calling out, “Santa-Anna's coming and will be here soon.”

“We almost caught him once,” Cavallin said. “I wish to God that we had. We were so close on his trail that he ran leaving seventeen trunks piled on the patio of the house, and candles burning on the table, and food ready to eat. We opened the trunks and found his wife's clothing, dresses by the hundreds, shoes, all kinds of woman things. One of the dresses must have weighed fifteen pound from all the gold decoration on it. And we found a cane of the one-legged bastard. It was studded with all kinds of jewels. We gave it to the colonel”

“Tom, you can't let the men kill Santa-Anna, not with the pass he's carrying. Butler will hang any man that takes part in it.”

“Maybe he would, and then again maybe we wouldn't stand for him to do that. And anyway I couldn't stop them from going after that butcher even if I wanted to. Best you get out of here for you don't want to be part of what's going to happen.”

Grant went to his horse and rode in the direction of his wagons. Once out of sight of the Rangers, he put spurs to his horse and hurried into Jalapa. He had to try to save the Rangers from themselves. Only Hays would have any chance at all to prevent Santa-Anna's murder.

Hays and Grant brought their running horses to a prancing stop in front of the Rangers gathered silently along the side of the road that Santa-Anna would be traveling. With hooded eyes, the men stared at their colonel. They weren't in any mood to listen to what he might say. Cavallin gave Grant an angry stare.

Hays sat his saddle for a moment and looking at the bleak faces of the men. Then he dismounted and began to pace up and down in front of them. His voice rang out. “The bastard Santa-Anna massacred our people at Alamo and Goliad, and don't forget the drawing of the black beans at Perote where one man out of each ten was shot, and all the killings at other places. He deserves to be killed like the dog he is. Now isn't that right?”

A mighty roar of voices rolled out across the land. “Goddamn right.” “Kill the greaser.” “Skin him alive and even that'd be too good for him.” “We're with you colonel.”

Grant was flabbergasted by Hays speech. The colonel was goading the men to kill Santa-Anna and this wasn't why Grant had brought him.

“Some of you men had relatives killed, isn't that right?” Hays voice was grim.

Another cry of angry curses and threats rang out.

“Yes indeed, he deserves killing.” Hays ceased pacing and ran his eyes down the line of men, every one of them a larger man than he was, and not missing one eye that was watching him back so intently. “But if we do, then we're no better than he is. Hell, I'm not going to stand here and tell you not do it for that's your call. Still I'll say this, Santa-Anna has been condemned for killing prisoners. The world knows it and detests him for it.”

“But Colonel Hays,” a tall, gangly Rangers spoke up, “he's a free man and I'm damn sure he's got money stashed away, and a hell of a lot of it too.”

“He's as good as being a prisoner for he's forced to flee his own country. If you kill him you'll dishonor Texas. You sure don't want that.”

A man looked up the road, and then another, and another as the rumble of wheels, the jangle of trace chains, and the clop of horses' hooves came to the group. A string of vehicles came around a bend in the road and into sight. The caravan was made up of four coaches and eleven wagons and thirty of so mounted and armed riders as escort.

“You're right, colonel,” Cavallin said. “It would dishonor Texas. We can't shoot the sonofabitch no matter how bad we want to.”

There was a general nodding of heads among the Rangers.

“Then let him pass without a word. No cat calls. Nothing.” Hays said.

Grant dismounted and stood with the motionless, silent Rangers as the approaching vehicles and riders came abreast. Just behind the four lead horsemen was Santa-Anna's big, fancy coach painted red and gold and drawn by four matched gray horses. Santa-Anna in resplendent civilian clothing, his army rank had been stripped from him, sat with an arm resting on the top of the half door of the coach. His pretty young wife sat beside him.

Grant was surprised when the woman waved at the Rangers, she must not know the deadly enmity the men held for her husband. Santa-Anna looked out the window and alarm flashed across his face at seeing the shaggy haired Texans with their hate-filled eyes and pistols. He hastily caught his wife's hand and stopped her waving. He looked stonily back to the front. The eyes of every Ranger followed the coach.

The last coach came in front of Grant and to his astonishment he saw Charlolita Paz looking out over the top of the half door at the men near the road. Grant's eyes found hers, and he felt an instant surge of pleasure. He stepped close to the side of the coach, caught hold of the half door, and paced along and looking at Char.

“Char! What are you doing here?”

She gave him a radiant smile and laid her hand on top of his. “I'm being sent to Spain. This is my brother Raoul who is going with me.” With a motion of her free hand, she indicated the second occupant in the coach

Grant could see the resemblance between Char and the man, who was about his age. The fellow was scowling, which didn't bother Grant at all.

“Why to Spain?” he asked and hating her leaving.

“To be married. My parents arranged it.”

“You don't know the man?” Char's coming marriage with a man chosen for her in a distant land explained her actions of taking every opportunity to be free of her chaperon and out with Grant. All their pleasant days and evenings together, all her many carefree, happy smiles meant she had been cramming into the limited time still remaining to her as much pleasure as possible before the constraints of a married woman confined her.

“No I don't. But I have several months to get to know him for the marriage isn't until June. They ordered me to leave now for they were afraid I was becoming too fond of a Yankee and would do something to disgrace myself. Of course I would never even think of doing something unladylike.” She winked impishly at Grant, and with her face turned away from her brother, the wink was hidden from him.

“Certainly not,” Grant agreed. The lie felt good on his tongue.

“Any man who gets you for a wife will be very lucky.” Grant knew events had been set in motion and he could do nothing to alter their course. Best to talk of something else. “How did you become part of Santa-Anna's party?”

“My father knows him and asked permission for Raoul and me to travel with his group to the coast. With the general we are safe from guerillas and bandits, and with his safe conduct pass we are safe from you Yankees.”

“I will miss you very much,” Grant said.

“And I will miss you, my Yankee friend.” Char removed her hand from Grant's. “Now I must say goodbye.”

Grant felt much saddened. She was the type of free spirited and giving young women that a man should meet at least once in his life. “Goodbye, Char,” he said.

He halted, and as the coach carried Char on, she leaned to look out the window and their eyes held. The coach moved on a few yards more and she lifted a hand and gave him a wave and withdrew into the coach. She was gone from his life. Mexico suddenly lost its luster and charm because of her going.

Grant watched after the coach carrying Char and the long line of wagons heavily laden with Santa-Anna's rich possessions until they vanish from sight.

Cavallin came up. “A very pretty girl there,” he said.

“Yes she is.”

“Sam, you did right in getting the colonel, so there's no hard feelings.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

“I'll even buy you a drink in Jalapa.”

“I accept for I need one. Let's get Mat for he has some heavy thoughts on his mind.”

General Scott came out of his quarters in the National Palace and onto the Grand Plaza. He was dressed in a blue field uniform and wearing his usual weapon of a cap and ball pistol in a holster on his belt. His face lit up at sight of the huge gathering of officers waiting to greet him before he departed Mexico City for the coast. He lifted his arm to them and climbed up into the wagon outfitted for his travel.

He straightened to his full height. “Farewell, brave and loyal officers I must leave you now,” he said and trembling with emotion and his voice breaking. “You are warriors of the highest order. To you and all your men go the credit for battles fought and victories won. I merely gave you the direction to march.”

Scott controlled his feelings with a will and his voice took on a somber tone. “As you go forth in your future duties as soldiers, I give you this to ponder.

        That crown with peerless glories bright,

        Which shall new luster boast,

        When victor's wreaths and monarch's gems,

        Shall blend in common dust.”

He saluted the men smartly and took a seat.

Hitchcock, standing with Lee in the front of the crowd, shouted out, “Three cheers for our general. Hip! Hip! Hooray!”

The other officers caught up with Hitchcock on the second cry and the Grand Plaza resounded to. “Hip! Hip! Hooray! Hip! Hip! Hooray!”

A young lieutenant called out, “God bless you, general!” This was picked up by other men and repeated over and over.

Scott lifted his hand again in salute of the honor the men had shown him. He spoke to the wagon driver. The man popped his whip over the heads of the team of horses. The officers gave way to provide an avenue for the vehicle to move.

Scott's staff and several other officers had brought their horses to the plaza and they now mounted and rode along with the wagon. A company of Dragoons assigned to escort the general, formed up ahead and riding four abreast led from the plaza and off along the street leading to the National Highway. A train of wagons carrying Scott's servant, his aide a crippled soldier, and provisions for the journey fell in at the tail of the cavalcade.

The procession proceeded with the sounds of the hoof falls of the horses and horses, the rattle of the iron-rimmed wheels on the stone pavement, and the creak of saddle leather echoing back from the walls of the buildings lining the street. There was no conversation and Lee believed all of the men were like him reflecting with a feeling of heavyheartedness upon the events surrounding the general.

Scott had rejected, after four days and with the most polite language, the Mexican offer to become dictator of Mexico. He had explained his decision to his staff, that he was too old and dedicated a soldier to enter into an arrangement so questionable in terms of his country's interests. “I want to return to Washington and face my enemies”, he had said. Lee believed the general never at any time had any intention to accept the proposal, but rather he had told about the offer so that word of it would get back to Polk, Marcy, and Congress, and other influential men in Washington.

The court of enquiry had taken testimony on Scott's charges against Pillow, Worth, and Duncan during six days in late March and early April. Two generals and a colonel from Butler's division had been directed by President Polk to make up the court. Scott's case against Pillow was practically destroyed when the wily Pillow persuaded his paymaster, Major Archibald Burns to come forward and swear he had been the author of the Leonidas letter. Duncan took responsibility for the Veritas letter. Lee couldn't imagine what Pillow could have promised Duncan to make him lie under oath. He was confident that Pillow, Duncan and Worth had conspired against Scott for he had seen them talking quietly with their heads together at the Aztec Club.

As the enquiry went along, Polk learned of the July attempt to bribe Santa-Anna and ordered the court to look into the matter as to whether it had occurred and if so had it influenced Scott's military actions. At this point the hearing became more an inquisition of Scott. Pillow lied under oath, swearing that he had opposed offering the bribe. Trist refused to testify on the subject. So too did Scott, stating that he would discuss the matter only with the president.

Lee thought Scott had handled himself well despite the practiced courtroom tactics of Pillow the consummate lawyer. Trist and Hitchcock had been very compelling witnesses for the general. Trist lauded the general's honesty and loyalty to the United States. Hitchcock went even further, once stating that there were liars, braggarts, and insubordinate officers trying to pull down a great general. At this Worth who was present in the courtroom, sprang to his feet in anger and asked General Butler, also in attendance, to put Hitchcock under arrest. Butler calmly refused and told the court to continue. Lee had been asked but a few questions during his appearance before the court of enquiry, and those had been limited to the orders that he had carried from Scott to the commanding officers of the forces fighting at Contreras and Chapultepec, and the troop movements at those battles. Other witness testified and several officers were directed to submit written responses to questions. The hearings had concluded and the findings and recommendations of the court members had gone to Washington for Polk's review. The official response had been that no payment of money as a bribe to Santa-Anna could be proved, and that military operation had not been influenced. All charges were dropped and President Polk ordered the court to disband. Lee knew that a brilliant campaign had been tarnished by the actions of a few unscrupulous officers.