Chapter IV: Part 4

_15th._--We are to pass a day or two here I believe, resting from our long travel. This morning one of our wagon drivers, who is a sailor, went up town, and by some means, most unfortunately, offended several of the Mexican gentlemen. Complaint was made to the alcalde, who ordered Jack to be taken to the caliboose and flogged, going in person to see it done. But Jack knocked him down and broke his sabre in pieces--whipping several others who came to the rescue, and finally walked off to camp completely victorious. Word was brought to Col. Doniphan about the conduct of his man, who gravely told the people that if Gen. Wool could do any thing with his men, it was more than he could with his. He said it was now too late for him to keep them in order, therefore, he should leave on Monday.

_Sunday, 16th._--Preparations are going on in different departments for the renewal of our march to-morrow. The expectation of soon encountering Generals Taylor and Wool, appears to inspire our men with a desire to look decent. Old clothes are being washed--sundry holes in deerskin pants are in the process of repair, and I think we shall not look so very ragged, after all.

_17th._--Moved out of town at three o’clock, P. M. After marching five miles through a broken, bare country, we came to a house, whose _shingled_ roof indicated that its builder had been educated in the United States. We found it even so, although the man was a Mexican. We made a journey of 25 miles to-day, and had a supper of excessively tough beef, and coarse bread.

_18th._--On our way, very early, as usual--made 18 miles with a severe ear-ache, from which I have suffered almost constantly for several weeks past. Strolling out after the tents were fixed up, I saw some soldiers walking along with a man in front, whom I learned they were about to drum out of service. He proved to be a teamster, and not a volunteer. He had, without provocation, struck several Mexicans in Parras. The alcalde sending on an express to Gen. Wool for protection, induced Col. Doniphan to settle the business thus. He was made to walk before three armed men, behind whom, several bugles performed a doleful ditty. When they arrived at the outskirts, the Captain ordered a halt, and proclaimed that the man was drummed out of service for misbehavior. Whereupon he ordered the men in front to kick him. The punishment having been inflicted, the poor fellow was turned off, to find a shelter where he could.

_11th._--To-night we are encamped at a ranch, almost overflowed with water which is coming down in a rush, in consequence of a heavy rain in the mountains. Made to-day 25 miles.

_21st_--Yesterday and to-day we pursued our journey without intermission. At night we encamped where Gen. Wool had stationed 1000 men as picket guard. We received a treat in the shape of nice American flour and mess pork, as rations.

_22d._--I rode with several others to Gen. Wool’s camp. On the way we passed over the battle ground of Buena Vista, and saw the remains of hundreds of Mexicans thrown in heaps and covered over with cactus. These remained undisturbed by the wolves while they had disinterred our buried Americans and devoured them; these animals make a practice of keeping in the rear of our advancing armies, and always prefer eating our men after death to the Mexicans. I spent an hour in contemplating the desolations of war--picked up a few Spanish coins, a watch key, cross, &c., with several other little matters, as mementos. Gen. Wool’s quarters were to be seen in the distance. After spending an hour or two in his camp, I returned to our boys, whom I found assembled in a congregation, and Capt. Reid holding forth in a speech, trying all his might, to get some of our men to volunteer again, their term being nearly expired. This morning every preparation is made for the reception of Gen. Wool, who is expected to receive the command. All in right order, we marched out, the artillery in front, our company (the Chihuahua Rangers) next, and so on. As he rode up, the artillery-men fired a salute, and while passing along the lines with his escort, we had orders to “present arms.” After the parade was over, we were marched back to _camp_, where the General came to inspect the captured cannon, and see the black flag, taken at the battle of Sacramento. At night we drew rations of bacon and dried apples, which good things, some of our boys thought were given as a _bribe_ to induce them to re-enlist.

_Sunday, 23d._--We left at an early hour, and as we passed through Gen. Wool’s encampment, we turned over to him our American artillery, consisting of six pieces, received at Santa Fe. We retained the Mexican cannon, viz. 17 pieces taken at the battle of Sacramento, and one piece taken at Bracito, and marched on 12 miles to Saltillo, a large town among the mountains. The weather is warm and pleasant, and in right order we passed through, and proceeded on eight miles, we encamped at night in a wheat field. We saw to-day several deserted ranchos.

_24th._--After a long and fatiguing march of 32 miles, we stopped at a deserted ranch to pass the night. In winding through the mountain pass to-day, we turned aside to see the fortifications which had been thrown up, to stop the progress of Gen. Taylor to Saltillo.

_25th._--An early start, and fatiguing journey of 25 miles brought us within four miles of Monterey. From our camp we have a full view of the city and palace of the Bishop. All this day our road lay through the narrow pass of the mountains, one of which is volcanic, and has been burning for several years. A heavy rain descended to-night, drenching us completely, and in the midst of which a grave was dug for a poor soldier, who has been sick ever since we left Chihuahua.

_26th._--Through a heavy wind we rode into town and stopped to see the citadel and wall so bravely scaled by our troops after the enemy was driven from their redoubts. From this palace, a lovely and extensive view of the city and surrounding country is presented. The southern fruits and flowers are growing in great luxuriance. After our men were satisfied with an inspection, we marched through the famous town of Monterey to Gen. Taylor’s camp, where we arrived at 12 o’clock. We found the old hero encamped in the woods. Immediately on our arrival he came to us, in company with Col. Doniphan, to see the trophies of our victories. I was fortunate enough to grasp the hand of the old General. In the afternoon several thousand pack mules were sent out with provisions for Gen. Wool.

_27th._--At day-break the roll-call was called, and Capt. Hudson told us to saddle up, and get ready to start. All was in readiness, when orders came that we should be delayed till 12 o’clock. A few minutes before that hour Gen. Taylor with his escort rode up, and passed along the lines, with his hat off, to review us. We presented sabres, and then started on our way, the General escorting us some distance from his camp. After he left us, we pursued our march through a country well covered with hackberry and other trees. A long route of 32 miles brought us to a ranch, where we halted for the night.

_28th._--Arrived at a deserted ranch late in the morning, after passing 40 miles over a most dreadful road. Being in the rear guard, I and eleven others, were obliged to assist the wagons up the hills, by pushing at the wheels. All along this route decaying bodies and skeletons of men, are lying. Some of the bodies still had their clothing on, and the stench was almost intolerable. The road was also strewed with mules, which had died in numbers on their way to Monterey.

_29th._--The road is only interesting from association. Many a brave man has passed it never to retrace his steps. Six miles from our last stopping place we reached Seralvo. Here we found a regiment of volunteers on the march to join Gen Taylor. We waited till the afternoon to feed our horses and mules; then marched 14 miles to another deserted ranch and stopped to sleep. We saw, on our way many ranchos and villages tenantless and destroyed. While we were at Seralvo, a Mexican was caught, who belonged to the gang that murdered the teamsters, and burned up 150 wagons, which were on their way to the army. At three o’clock, he was brought out in the plaza, and placed against the wall. A file of six men, (the Texian Rangers,) stood some ten yards off. The prisoner was told by the Colonel that his time was at hand. He was then ordered to turn his back. This he not only refused to do, but struck fire and lighted his cigar. The word was given--all fired--and he fell dead. Three balls entered his breast, and three his head. A Texian, whose brother had been murdered in the wagon train, gave a five dollar gold piece to take the place of one who was chosen to do this melancholy business.

_Sunday night, 30th._--We have stopped at a town called Mier. I felt very weary after a travel of 36 miles. This place is notorious on account of a battle that was gained by the Texians. Our Rangers were highly elated in the thoughts of their success and they became so drunk that the defeated Mexicans took them prisoners, and marched them off to the city of Mexico. So much for the sale of rum. We met with a cordial reception at this place.

_31st._--We encamped in sight of Camargo at two o’clock to-day. We crossed the river St. Pon in a ferry boat, which was pulled by means of ropes. The crossing occupied about two hours, when our troops and artillery were landed. This town is well fortified. It is the principal depot for supplies to the army, which come up this river in small steamers. River water is drank, although rendered very filthy by the carcasses of mules and horses, which are thrown into it. To-day one poor fellow was buried, who had been sick a long time. Many a hard jolt in the rough wagon, and hour of thirst and weariness had he--but he sleeps quietly and peacefully in his lonely rest on the banks of the St. Pon.

_June 1st._--On our way to the Rio Grande, this morning one of our men was shot by a party of Mexicans, who had concealed themselves in the bushes. He was riding alone, when he was fired upon. The charge entered his hand and breast, and he fell dead. Capt. Reid at the head of 50 men, went after the murderers, and soon returned with six of them. They are to be kept in close confinement.

_2nd._--Our officers were in an unpleasant dilemma. They did not know how to dispose of the prisoners, and after some debate, they concluded to turn them loose. A file of soldiers was detailed for that purpose. They took them some miles off, and soon returned, announcing that _they had turned them loose_. At 4 o’clock we left, and travelled all night through a thick forest of muskeet trees and brushwood. About sunrise we arrived at Columbus, where we found several steamers ready for us. Many of us were miserably disordered from our weary midnight march. We encamped on the Rio Grande. This evening our cannon was sent down the river two miles to be shipped.

_3d._--Orders were received at an early hour for the troops to bring forward their saddles, rigging, &c., to be valued. A most unsightly mass was soon presented, the dilapidated articles were gathered in a heap. Our Sergeant gave notice he should value them as condemned property, it being impossible to transport them. A large fire was then made, and all were consumed. Our horses were placed in charge of a Mr. Van Bibber, who for a stipulated sum engaged to drive them through Texas to Missouri, and leave them at any point we might designate. We walked a mile to the beach, where several steamers awaited us. The sick went immediately on board. Two or three companies started, while the rest of us were detained till very late to assist in shipping the cannon. Orders were given that we should remain all night, so we went again on shore, spread our blankets on the beach, and spent the night rather uncomfortably.

_4th._--It commenced raining at 3 o’clock this morning. After eating a breakfast of coffee and a few hard crackers, we hurried on board the steamer. Here we found both cabin and deck crowded with men. Our little steamer started in the midst of a heavy rain, rendering every thing exceedingly unpleasant. Night came on and no cooking could be done, so we went on shore, erected our tents, ate our suppers and rested quietly through the night.

_5th._--The bell rang at 3 o’clock for us to come on board which we accomplished in the course of an hour. One fellow being rather slow, was left behind, but he regained the boat before she had gone two miles. Fortunately for him an accident happened to the wheel, which was found to be broken, thus detaining us for repairs several hours. We did not reach Matamoras till two o’clock. Here we stopped but a very few minutes, and proceeded on till sunset. The boat now stopped to take in wood, and the Captain informed us that he should leave at moonrise. We laid down on deck on our blankets.

_Sunday, 6th._--I was awakened at one o’clock by the deck hands to make room to haul in the foot plank. I found myself drenched with filthy water, which had run under me as I slept. Quietly folding up my blanket I thought I would make no complaint, as I was near my journey’s end. About sunrise we reached the Balize, when all hands landed and erected the tents. After breakfast, with a number of others, I went to bathe in the sea. We let the breakers pass over our heads. They came with such force, that in my present reduced state, I found it difficult to stand up under them. Nor could I remain long in the water.

_7th._--We are encamped on the banks of the Rio Grande, eight miles from the shipping, which is on the opposite side of this narrow neck of land.

_8th._--A regiment of regulars landed to-day, on their way to the seat of war. No ship has appeared as yet to take us off.

_9th._--This morning we had orders to start for Brazos Santiago, nine miles from this place. We had not proceeded far through the deep sand, when it became necessary for those who had the remnant of shoes, to pull them off, on account of the sand gathering in them, it being above the ankle at every step. Our feet became badly blistered by the heat and friction. Most gladly did I spread my blanket on the sand and enjoy a night of rest, after the fatigues of the day. We are not yet at the end of this uncomfortable journey. The shipping is in sight, and a short march in the morning will relieve the weary teams of their burdens.

_10th._--We are all on board--artillery, baggage, and a motley crew of 250 men, with unshaved faces, ragged and dirty, but all in fine spirits, save a few poor fellows, whose thin visages show the ravages of disease and suffering.

_11th._--The past has been a memorable night. For suffering I have not experienced its equal in all my peregrinations through life. In the brig, on board of which we took passage, there were 100 bunks (a slight elevation made of plank) for the soldiers to sleep on. When I got in mine, the crowd was so great and the air so oppressive, that I thought I would get out, and take a few pulls at the fresh atmosphere. Groping along in the dark, I endeavored to find some place of egress, but the whole gangway was strewed with men, and I was forced to return, amid a shower of _blessings_ from the poor fellows, on whom I had the misfortune to tread. I laid the rest of the night in this hot place, more dead than alive. There was not the slightest air, and I was covered with a profuse perspiration.

_12th._--An inspection of this brig, which was beautiful in its exterior, convinced me that it was a filthy place indeed; especially between decks. It was certainly worse than a hog-pen, for just above our bunks, there was a sty, in which were several of the real material. Two small fires were built for the soldiers to cook with, and so many crowded around them, all anxious to be served, that a long time elapsed before I could get my coffee. As a matter of convenience we were supplied with hard crackers and molasses. This diet only increased my disease, and I turned a longing eye on a large turtle which had been killed and was being served up for our officers, and the inmates of the cabin.

_13th._--Our allowance of water was a coffee pot full twice a day for coffee, and a pint apiece for each man to drink; a hogshead had been drawn upon deck for our use. There is a guard kept throughout each day, over this hogshead of miserable water, not fit for horses to drink. It was with mingled feelings of admiration and sorrow that I saw our brave fellows, who had borne the fatigues of the march, and the strong blows of the battle, come humbly around the hogshead, which was a central point of attraction, and ask for a little cup of water, when they were almost famished, and could drink several pints were it allowed them. It is a gloomy Sabbath evening--nearly calm.

_14th._--We are running S. E. by E., though the boat scarcely glides along, there being a calm. It seems that the water is becoming scarcer to-day. The Captain has directed that a quart only shall be given to each man for all purposes. And it is to last 24 hours. When this was announced one of the men muttered something which I did not hear, but which the Captain disliked; for he told us all, that if any one made another threat, he would blow his brains out as quick as he would shoot a rattlesnake. When this threat was heard the men all roared out in a hearty laugh. The Captain was of middle size, somewhat corpulent, swarthy in complexion, and blind in his right eye. He was rough in his manners, but talked very little, especially to us, privates. He is master of the brig and is employed by government to convey troops across the gulf. His name is Woodsides. This morning about a pint of water was issued to each man. Of course, no coffee is made. We mixed a little vinegar with some water, and with crackers and molasses, made out our supper. Two dolphins were caught by the sailors, and one of our men caught a young shark. Another turtle is served up for the cabin. It was so warm that I could not sleep in my bunk, but lay in the gangway, on my blanket. At midnight a steamer came alongside, and the Captain took on board several barrels of water. It was truly a blessing for us.

_15th._--Coffee and fried shark for breakfast, but a dreadful sore mouth (which I fear is the scurvy) makes the eating a painful performance. Every indication of land was near. At 12 o’clock the Captain said we were 80 miles from the Balize. In anticipation of a storm, the sails were furled, but a little sprinkle of rain was all, and we again spread our canvass to the breeze. A sailor was sent aloft to see if the light house was in sight, and after remaining in the cross trees two hours, he came down and said he saw it. A short time after the cry was heard, “the pilot boat is coming.” Sails were furled, and the pilot was soon on board. In the meantime some one cried “three cheers for Capt. Woodsides!” The cry was echoed by the crowd, and Capt. Woodsides looked bullets. A flag was placed on the bow, a steamer came alongside and towed us over the bar, where our Captain anchored. We now draw water up the sides of the ship, for we are in the Mississippi river, 100 miles from New Orleans. The water is good and there is plenty of it, as the river is full. Every man has just as much as he can use, and we use it freely enough. After supper I went to my bunk, but found it too warm to rest in, so I took my blanket, and laid down, as usual, in the gangway--but not being able to stretch my feet out, in consequence of a sack of bacon in the way, I got up and searched about, and at length found an empty bunk of some one who had gone on deck to spend the night. I felt weak and sick from the heat.

_16th._--We drew our water from the river to get some breakfast, the sailors are washing off the deck, and if any man happens in the way, he is sure of having a bucket full thrown on him; of course several of our boys have had a good drenching. At 8 o’clock a steamer took us in tow. As we proceeded up the Mississippi, we beheld on its banks large plantations of the sugar cane which present a lovely contrast with some countries over which I have marched. On the left side of the river is Fort Jackson, now nearly in ruins, but still a beautiful place. With several of our men I slept on the deck of the steamer. We were all in good spirits at the prospect of getting home, though the want of a change of clothes at this particular juncture is keenly felt. Some are covered with filth, and vermin, which have kept their hiding places within our garments, for many a long day.

_17th._--We are now among the thick settlements, and sugar plantations which line the river as we approach the city. I remained most of the night on deck, and ate an early breakfast of the usual diet. Afterwards Capt. Hudson had one of the big guns taken up, and fired a salute as we passed a pretty little village. We are now on the site of the battle ground, where General Jackson fought the English in 1814--continued our course up the river, and fired several times. At last, we were safely landed on the wharf in New Orleans. Upon my head there was no hat, having lost my last remnant overboard in the gulf. My pants, I had thrown away three days before, because (being composed of deerskin worn into tatters,) I despaired of making them look decent. A pair of drawers, rather the worse for wear, and an old overcoat, constituted my dress. If, to this description of my person I add that my hair, beard, and mustachios, had been left to vegetate undisturbed ever since I left Fort Leavenworth, then some idea may be formed of the accomplished soldiers of Col. Doniphan’s command.

_18th._--In company with twelve others I got in an omnibus to search for some clothes and quarters; came three miles to a large clothing establishment, where our wants as to garments were soon supplied. The barber next exercised his skill, and it was with many an amusing jest and laugh that we regarded each others altered and improved appearance. Comfortable quarters were secured, and to-night I am reposing in a quiet boarding house. Here I feel that no homage of my soul is profound enough to render due adoration to that gracious Providence Who has protected and guided me, while marching over the wild plains, and through the mountain passes of Mexico.

“Deserts in vain opposed our onward course;
O’er hostile lands and wild untravelled wastes,
Our journey we pursued, nor feared the floods,
Through deep ravines that flow; dire banked with death;
Nor mountains in whose jaws destruction grinned.
Though floods rapacious roaring as they rolled,
And mountains huge and rough were circled round
By roving bands of restless savage foes.”

_22nd._--On Sunday last I went to the M. E. Church and listened to an excellent sermon. I was kindly invited by a stranger, who introduced himself to me, to dine and spend the evening with him. I complied with his request and was pleasantly entertained. After tea I returned to my boarding house, which is kept by a Mr. Wren, and whose charge is moderate, viz. $4 per week. On my first introduction here I committed a blunder, the thought of which has frequently caused me to smile. It shows the contrast between a camp life and the more polished proceedings of life in the city. When I was called to the first meal, I seated myself at the table in the presence of my hostess, and commenced operations as I supposed in a manner the most polite and refined. Casting a glance at the lady I observed that she was eyeing me with a curious interest. The smile that played upon her lip told me that she was amused at some awkwardness of mine or some oddity in my appearance. And what was my surprise when I found that I had jerked my old knife from my pocket and was cutting my meat placed upon my bread in my usual way. The habit had been fixed upon me, and notwithstanding the neat arrangements of the table I could not resist the propensity to indulge in my camp customs.

_26th._--On board the steamer Louisville bound for Cincinnati. The boat is crowded, but a mattress on which to lie is a luxury. A few hours ago, I parted with many of my fellow soldiers and friends, with feelings which it is impossible for me to describe. I am not in a situation to continue with the regiment until it reaches its final destination. My mouth is so sore that the least effort to masticate my food is very painful, and I cannot eat, now that I have before me all the luxuries of life; and even if I could it would be improper for me to do so, on account of a long continued diarrhœa and pain in my breast and side. I feel that I am greatly changed when I compare the present with the time when I last glided over this beautiful stream. Then so full of health and anticipations of pleasures and happiness, now, a sick soldier--a mere skeleton of a man, bronzed by the burning rays of a Mexican sun, and worn down by the prolonged fatigue of travelling, watching and toil. I regret very much that I cannot go to St. Louis, as requested by Col. Doniphan, where an enthusiastic reception is awaiting him. To express myself in _measured terms_ about our Commander, would not be expressive of my feelings, and I feel how utterly incompetent I am to utter his eulogy. The man who can familiarise himself with the poorest private, by some kind word, or ride among the troops, and make us forget that we were hungry or thirsty by some pleasant converse, in our long and toilsome march;--the man who can forget his own personal safety in the hour of danger, and rise superior to every embarrassment--who can be prepared for every emergency, by superior skill in the tactics of war--as well as a refined sense of honor, and an open suavity of manner, not only leading captive the hearts of his entire command, but thousands of the hostile foe--such a man is a treasure to society, an honor to his country. And, such a man, is the brave Doniphan. It was with the feelings of a brother or a friend to whom I owed many obligations, that I grasped the hand of this great man, who kindly wished me a safe return to my family.

_27th._--Our noble steamer has made good headway up the river, passed Baton Rouge, and at nine o’clock at night came in sight of Natchez.

_28th._--Passed the Grand Gulf at 10, and at 2 got to Vicksburg. The pleasure of feasting my eyes on scenes so lovely, and which are presented by a trip to the “Father of Waters,” compensates for any little inconvenience arising from our crowded state.

_30th._--At this time we are near Memphis. There is some excitement on board. A man laboring under the effects of mania potu is quite crazy, and has attempted several times to jump overboard. Just now he entered the ladies’ cabin and struck his wife; one of our officers interfered, and soon placed him on his back. But a further attempt to kill his child made it necessary to secure him. With several others I entered the ladies’ cabin, and helped to tie this _gentleman_. He made much useless resistance.

_July 1st._--Slept but little--the surrounding bustle and noises mingled strangely with dreamy anticipations of soon receiving the cordial welcome of friends, that I fondly think that are eagerly awaiting me in my native home.

_West River, July 10th._--Let no brave soldier say he cannot shed tears of joy, when clasped in the arms of his aged, widowed mother, after an absence of nearly two years, in which he has encountered the perils of both land and sea--travelling nearly 6000 miles, 2200 being through the heart of an enemy’s country, and witnessing death in every shape and feature.

It were an endless task to attempt any thing like a minute description of that part of Mexico through which we travelled. Our route lay for the most part, on the Rio Grande del Norte, whose head waters rise in the Green Mountains, several hundred miles above Santa Fe. It forms the western boundary of Texas, and can be easily forded at almost any point above El Paso. In the dry season it is extremely low, and can be of very little importance for navigation, except near its mouth, which flows into the Gulf of Mexico. It is thought this river has a course of from 15 to 1800 miles. The country is elevated: being traversed by a range of mountains extending far to the northward. Among the inhabitants, I saw every shade of complexion, from a dark swarthy, or yellow, to the palest white. But few are handsome among the ladies; and this is principally to be attributed to their great love of coloring the skin with red paint. The mountaineers are mostly poor, and almost universally destitute of every thing beyond the bare necessaries of life. Their flocks and herds constitute their principal riches, and their implements of husbandry are all of the most simple character. Their ploughing such as it is--is effected by a wooden plough, to which is attached two or four oxen, and the wheat is slightly covered over, having been previously sown on the hard ground. There are some fertile valleys in this mountainous range, but the poor simple inhabitants have very little idea of taking advantage of the natural resources of their country. After we left Chihuahua, fields of cotton and corn, interspersed at intervals with the sugar cane, presented themselves. The ranchos are always about a day’s journey apart, and the whole aspect of nature in these delightful spots, is one of the most inviting that can be imagined, as a field of operation, for the industry and art of man. The soil here is fertile, and what is generally termed bottom land; and with proper culture would be made as productive as any of our western lands, as the climate is more genial. They grow only a few vegetables, of which the red pepper appears to be a favorite, these they string and hang on the outsides of their houses so thick that on approaching I frequently thought I should see a painted dwelling, but was to see only a miserable dirty hut. The mines of Mexico afford her principal wealth, but of this the poorer classes obtain but little, they are kept in ignorance and degradation by a government which has borne the name of Republican, but which every one who sojourns in that country must soon discover to be a mockery, for the mass of the people are subject alone to the will of the Roman clergy, and are not free to act. There is no slave in any of our Southern States whose situation they have not reason to envy. The women are more degraded if possible than the men, and more slovenly in their appearance, and while this is the case in any country the morals of the people must remain at a low grade. Since my return, I have heard of the enthusiastic reception of Col. Doniphan at St. Louis, an account of which I annex as published in the Baltimore American. Our business was not, however, to see all that was worth seeing, but to hurry on to the place we started for and when arrived at that to make arrangements to hurry on again.

COL. DONIPHAN’S MARCH.

At the recent reception of the Missouri volunteers under Col. Doniphan at St. Louis, the address of welcome was delivered by Mr. Senator Benton. The speech is characteristic--exhibiting that clear and graphic narrative and those strong and concentrated expressions for which the Senator is remarkable.

The orator gave an outline of the long march of this gallant regiment--first, a thousand miles to New Mexico, which became a starting point of a new departure. Then Chihuahua was aimed at--Chihuahua, a rich and populous city of nearly thirty thousand souls, the seat of the government of the state of that name, and formerly the residence of the Captains General of the Internal Provinces under the vice-regal government. In advancing towards Chihuahua the adventurous regiment encountered incredible hardships. They passed over the desert called _el jornada de los muertos_--the journey of the dead--an arid plain of ninety miles strewed with the bones of animals perished of hunger and thirst and marked by continual mementos of men who had fallen victims to the perilous way. They fought the enemy at the Bracito, and gained a decisive victory although opposed by superior numbers strong in cavalry and artillery. Again at Sacramento the intrepid band fought and conquered a vastly superior force. Mr. Benton calls that victory “one of the military marvels of the age.” At length Chihuahua is reached and taken; and there the bold adventurers must pause to determine which way next they shall direct their steps. They had occupied a city about as far from St. Louis as Moscow is from Paris. Let Col. Benton’s graphic narrative be heard:

“Chihuahua gained, it became, like Santa Fe, not the terminating point of a long expedition, but the beginning point of a new one. Gen. Taylor was somewhere--no one knew exactly where--but some seven or eight hundred miles towards the other side of Mexico. You had heard that he had been defeated--that _Buena Vista_ had not been a _good prospect_ to him. Like good Americans you did not believe a word of it; but like good soldiers, you thought it best to go and see. A volunteer party of fourteen, headed by Collins of Boonville, undertake to penetrate to Saltillo, and to bring you information of his condition. They set out. Amidst innumerable dangers they accomplish their purpose; and return. You march. A vanguard of one hundred men, led by Lieut. Colonel Mitchell, led the way. Then came the main body, (if the name is not a burlesque on such a handful,) commanded by Col. Doniphan himself.

“The whole table land of Mexico, in all its breadth, from west to east, was to be traversed. A numerous and hostile population in towns--treacherous Cumanches in the mountains--were to be passed. Every thing was to be self-provided--provisions, transportation, fresh horses for remounts, and even the means of victory--and all without a military chest, or even an empty box, in which government gold had ever reposed. All was accomplished. Mexican towns were passed, in order and quiet: plundering Cumanches were punished: means were obtained from traders to liquidate indispensable contributions: and the wants that could not be supplied, were endured like soldiers of veteran service.

“I say the Cumanches were punished. And here presents itself an episode of a novel, extraordinary, and romantic kind--Americans chastising savages for plundering people who they themselves came to conquer, and forcing the restitution of captives and of plundered property. A strange story this to tell in Europe, where back-woods character, western character, is not yet completely known. But to the facts. In the muskeet forest of the _Bolson de Mapimi_, and in the sierras around the beautiful town and fertile district of Parras, and in all the open country for hundreds of miles round about, the savage Cumanches have held dominion ever since the usurper Santa Anna disarmed the people; and sally forth from their fastnesses to slaughter men, plunder cattle, and carry off women and children. An exploit of this kind had just been performed on the line of the Missourians’ march, not far from Parras, and an advanced party chanced to be in that town at the time the news of the depredation arrived there. It was only fifteen strong. Moved by gratitude for the kind attentions of the people, especially the women, to the sick of General Wool’s command, necessarily left in Parras, and unwilling to be outdone by enemies in generosity, the heroic fifteen, upon the spot, volunteered to go back, hunt out the depredators, and punish them, without regard to numbers. A grateful Mexican became their guide. On their way they fell in with fifteen more of their comrades; and, in short time, seventeen Cumanches killed out of sixty-five, eighteen captives restored to their families, and three hundred and fifty head of cattle recovered for their owners, was the fruit of this sudden and romantic episode.

“Such noble conduct was not without its effect on the minds of the astonished Mexicans. An official document from the Prefect of the place to Captain Reid, leader of this detachment, attests the verity of the fact, and the gratitude of the Mexicans; and constitutes a trophy of a new kind in the annals of war. Here it is in the original Spanish, and I will read it off in English.

“It is officially dated from the Prefecture of the Department of Parras, signed by the Prefect Jose Ignacio Arrabe, and addressed to Capt. Reid, the 18th of May, and says:

“‘At the first notice that the barbarians, after killing many, and taking captives, were returning to their haunts, you generously and bravely offered, with fifteen of your subordinates, to fight them on their crossing by the Pozo, executing this enterprise with celerity, address and bravely worthy of all eulogy, and worthy of the brilliant issue which all celebrate. You recovered many animals and much plundered property; and eighteen captives were restored to liberty and to social enjoyments, their souls overflowing with a lively sentiment of joy and gratitude, which all the inhabitants of this town equally breathe, in favor of their generous deliverers and their valiant chief. The half of the Indians killed in the combat, and those which fly wounded, do not calm the pain which all feel for the wound which your excellency received defending christians and civilized beings against the rage and brutality of savages. All desire the speedy re-establishment of your health; and although they know that in your own noble soul will be found the best reward of your conduct, they desire also to address you the expression of their gratitude and high esteem. I am honored in being the organ of the public sentiment, and pray you to accept it, with the assurance of my most distinguished esteem.

“‘God and Liberty!’”

“This is a trophy of a new kind in war, won by thirty Missourians, and worthy to be held up to the admiration of christendom.”

The regiment arrived at Gen Taylor’s camp at Monterey, and reported themselves ready for duty. They were prepared to go with the hero of Buena Vista to San Luis Potosi, or Zacatecas, or the city of Mexico. They regarded not their fatigues nor the approaching expiration of their term of service. “But unhappily,” says Mr. Benton, “the conqueror of Palo Alto Resaca de la Palma, Monterey and Buena Vista, was not exactly in the condition that the Lieutenant General, might have been, intended him to be. He was not at the head of 20,000 men! he was not at the head of any thousands that would enable him to march! and had to decline the proffered service. Thus the long marched and well fought volunteers--the rough, the ready, and the ragged--had to turn their faces towards home, still more than two thousand miles distant.”

The last nine hundred miles of the land march from Chihuahua to Matamoras was made in forty-five days with seventeen pieces of artillery, eleven of which had been taken from the enemy. During all their long march this regiment of hardy soldiers received from the Government not a dollar of pay; they furnished for the most part their own supplies and forage and clothing, and yet brought back nearly their whole number. “You marched farther than the farthest,” says Mr. Benton, “you have fought as well as the best, left order and quiet in your train, and cost less money than any.”

Col. Doniphan made an eloquent address in reply to the oration of welcome, and towards the close of it, he turned to his men, the companions of his toils and dangers, and said:

“You have endured much toil and hardship. It is now about to terminate. You have arrived once more in the land of civilized society, and again we are citizens mingling with our fellow-citizens. Your lot has been a hard one in many respects.

“Before reaching New Mexico, by two hundred miles, you were on half rations, and never afterwards, for a single day, during our long and arduous march to Saltillo, did you receive full rations. Yet all this you have borne, and you have borne it with fortitude. The order which you received to march in Major Gilpin’s command, with a large column, over the Sierra Madre, covered with perpetual snow--proceeding on your march on shortened allowance, without tents or transportation, and many other comforts, because the Government was unable to furnish them; yet you bore it all, and were ready to resume your march in two days on the city of Chihuahua. You have travelled over five states of Mexico, and five very large ones, in point of territory.

“Perhaps the citizens of St. Louis do not know what a Bonava is, but I will answer for every man in my command, knowing what they are. I may assure you, had you crossed them, you too, would have known what they are. The shortest one that we crossed was fifty miles and one ninety-five miles, which we crossed in three days in December, without wood, without water, without tents, at an elevation of 7000 feet above the Atlantic ocean. In sending expresses to the distance of 600 miles, when I was unable to furnish them with the means of carrying provision and other comforts with them over immense sand prairies covered with snow, I have never made a detail, but all were volunteers, or when I have sent out parties for the purpose of watching the enemy who have had to starve for days, I never made a detail in this column, but all were volunteers, and I am proud to say it.”

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.