Chapter XV: Appendix: (manuscript Sources) 565 (13)

The political situation appeared singularly promising. In March, 1845, the war department of Mexico admitted publicly that the northern sections of the country were "abandoned and more than abandoned" by the general government. Sensible Mexicans held that the connection of the province with their miserable system involved injury instead of benefit. The people received no protection against the ravages of the Indians. The national troops were a constant menace to the citizens. If a man desired to give his note for $3000, he was compelled to pay eight dollars for stamped paper. The duties and extortions levied upon the caravan merchants increased the price of their goods; and of late the central government had been trying to deprive the provincial authorities of money and the people of comforts by stopping that business entirely.[14.2]

The citizens appeared weary of oppression. They would not pay the taxes. It was found necessary in 1845 to excuse them from one of the most profitable but most annoying imposts. Indifference toward the general government--a natural return for its neglect and its vexations--prevailed, and the continual changes in that government aggravated the lack of patriotism. Indeed, there was more than indifference. A move to follow the example of Texas had been made in 1837, and the idea of joining the United States, which had existed in that year, became so strong by the early months of 1846 that representatives of the province in the national Congress openly avowed it. Finally, a revolution against misgovernment, that had recently occurred in the neighboring state of Sonora, appeared to offer a strong hint.[14.2]

All power, civil and military, lay in the hands of Manuel Armijo, governor and comandante general; and that of itself was an ample ground for insurrection. Born of disreputable parents, this precious adventurer had achieved a career still more disreputable. A man of unusual energy, though now a mountain of flesh, he could assume at will an air of ingenuous affability; could threaten, bluster, brag, intrigue or coax; and when dressed up in his blue frock coat, with blue striped pantaloons, shoulder straps, a red sash, and plenty of gold lace, could look--although at heart only a cunning and cowardly robber--quite impressive. His personal habits were said to be grossly immoral; his only principle was to succeed; and his type of mind, shrewd though low, was indicated by one of his favorite sayings, "It is better to be thought brave than to be so." Such force, cleverness and lack of scruple had naturally made him rich. His family now owned Albuquerque and the neighboring estates. His position and close relations with the priests gave him a firm hold on the ecclesiastical arm; it was believed that an understanding with the savages enabled him to use them against his enemies; and he engaged rather deeply in the American trade. Yet his ambition was not yet satisfied; and he entertained the idea, it would seem, of making the province an independent country.[14.2]

At St. Louis, Missouri, the New Mexican situation was doubtless fairly well understood, and a deep interest in the caravan business existed. The merchants, it was felt when the war became probable, deserved to be protected, and many urged the prompt despatch of an expedition for that purpose. Other arguments for such a step were, that it would forestall Indian troubles on the border, would incline the enemy--by laying open their weak side--to make terms, would encourage the people of New Mexico to rise in our favor, and would secure the key to Chihuahua and California; and in all probability influential men brought these ideas to the President's notice.[14.4]

The occupation of Santa Fe was in fact decided upon as one of the very earliest war measures--primarily for the sake of the traders, but also with a view to the permanent retention of the province. The move was intended to be pacific, however. Polk doubtless expected that no serious opposition, if any at all, would be offered by the people; and there seem to have been hopes that Chihuahua and her sister states could be persuaded by arguments backed with force to let the caravan trade go on despite the war. In that case the burdensome duties imposed at Santa Fe would no longer have had to be paid, and the discrimination in favor of Mexican competitors, that had prevailed there, would have ceased. On May 13, therefore, the governor of Missouri was directed to raise eight companies of mounted troops and two of light artillery for an expedition to New Mexico, and Colonel S. W. Kearny of the First Dragoons was directed to command them.[14.4]

[KEARNY'S MARCH]

So fine an opportunity for adventure appealed instantly to the bold, hardy and energetic young fellows of Missouri, and as early as June 6 volunteers were hurrying into the service at Fort Leavenworth--a square of wooden buildings, with a blockhouse at each corner and a plot of grass in the middle--which crowned a high bluff on the Missouri River about 312 miles from St. Louis; and about 1660 troops were soon assembled at that point. Of Kearny's dragoons there were some 300. The First Regiment of Missouri Mounted Volunteers--which chose Alexander W. Doniphan as colonel--numbered about 860. The artillery, including nearly 250 men, consisted of "Battery A" of St. Louis under Captain Weightman and a company under Captain Fischer, a graduate of the Prussian artillery service, and formed a battalion commanded by Major M. L. Clark, a West Pointer.[14.3] There were also two small companies of volunteer infantry, a St. Louis mounted body of about one hundred called the Laclede Rangers, which Kearny attached to his regulars, about fifty Delaware and Shawnee Indians, and finally, though by no means last in importance, a Roman Catholic priest familiar with the Spanish language.[14.4]

Without lingering to complete the outfit, Kearny sent the command off by sections. June 5 a detachment of the dragoons advanced. By the twenty-eighth all of Doniphan's regiment were on the march for Santa Fe and--none of them cared how much farther; and two days later Weightman's fine brass cannon, gleaming radiantly in the bright sunshine, wheeled into the trail. For several days the troops had to break their way through a rough country, but about fifteen miles south of the Kansas River they struck the Santa Fe road, a broad, well marked, natural highway running toward the southwest.[14.6]

Council Grove, the famous rendezvous of Indians and frontiersmen, was the last place from which a single person could safely return; and now for nearly four weeks not one "stick of timber" was to cheer the eye. After pressing on in the same direction to the Arkansas, the troops left the main trail, marched wearily along the northern bank of the river--ascending about seven feet in each mile--till they were beyond the great bend, and finally, crossing the shallow stream, turned their faces toward Bent's Fort, a protected trading post, which stood near the present site of Las Animas, Colorado, about 650 miles from Fort Leavenworth. Belts had been tightened over and over again by this time. Drinking water that no horse would touch had sickened many a tough rider. Mosquitos and buffalo gnats had tormented the flesh day and night. Faces had been scorched by siroccos, and tongues had swollen with thirst. Many had become so tired that a rattlesnake in the blanket seemed hardly worth minding, and so utterly wretched that in blind fury they sometimes raved and cursed like maniacs. Out of one hundred fine horses belonging to Battery A sixty had perished. Yet in places there had been cool breezes, carpets of brilliant and spicy flowers, great herds of buffalo, curious mirages, and inspiring glimpses of Pike's Peak, the towering outpost of the Rockies.[14.6]

At length on July 29 Kearny escorted by Doniphan's regiment gained the rendezvous, a grassy meadow on the Arkansas about nine miles below the Fort. There within a few days the Army of the West assembled,[14.5] and two additional companies of the dragoons, which had made an average of twenty-eight miles a day from Fort Leavenworth, joined their regiment. Nor were the troops alone. Several merchants had left Independence about the first of May. Notified by order of the government that war had begun, they had stopped here; and the Colonel found under his protection more than four hundred wagons and merchandise worth upwards of a million.[14.6]

Armijo, for his part, had received ample warnings. In March the central government informed him that war might be expected, and authorized him to make preparations for defence. By June 17 news of the coming invasion reached Santa Fe, and nine days later the first caravan of the season confirmed it. Manuel Alvarez, the American consul, endeavored now to persuade Armijo that it would "be better for himself and the people under his government to capitulate, and far preferable" to become Americans than to be citizens of a country so disordered and so impotent as Mexico; but while his advisers and subordinates fancied they could obtain offices under an elective system, and "were rather easily won over," the governor himself probably could not believe that people so long robbed and oppressed would choose the wolf as their shepherd. Besides, he doubtless had some national spirit and some desire to justify his gratuitous title of general. After confirming the news further by a spy, he sent south on July 1 an appeal for aid--representing the Americans as 6000 in number--and began to prepare for defence. A letter from Ugarte, the comandante general of Chihuahua, stating that he could set out on a moment's notice with five hundred cavalry and as many infantry, seemed encouraging, and no doubt Armijo was aware that Durango, too, had been ordered by the authorities at Mexico to aid him.[14.7]

Meanwhile reinforcements for Kearny were gathering in his rear. On the third of June Marcy informed the governor of Missouri that if Sterling Price, then a member of the Missouri legislature, and certain other citizens of the state would raise and organize a thousand mounted men--that is to say, a regiment and a battalion--to follow Kearny promptly, they would be appointed to the chief commands. This method of getting troops aroused considerable opposition among the people, for it ignored the militia system and the aspirations of the militia officers, and many felt that a politician like Price was unfit for the command; but young men were ready to volunteer under any sort of conditions that promised a chance to reach the front, and about the time Kearny left Fort Bent this new force, including artillery under regular officers, was mustered into the service at Fort Leavenworth.[14.8]

At the same time steps were taken to obtain reinforcements of a totally different character. A large number of Mormons, recently driven from Nauvoo, Illinois, had gathered at Council Bluffs, and were planning to settle in California. It was important that feelings of hostility toward this country should not prevail among them, and apparently their assistance, not only on the coast but in New Mexico, might be valuable. Kearny was therefore authorized to accept a body of these emigrants not larger than a quarter of his entire force, and about five hundred of them were enlisted in June and taken to Fort Leavenworth by Captain Allen of the First Dragoons. Allen soon died, but under Lieutenant Smith of the same regiment this party marched for Santa Fe.[14.8]

On July 31 Kearny issued a proclamation, which declared that he was going to New Mexico "for the purpose of seeking union with, and ameliorating the condition of its inhabitants," urged them to follow their usual vocations, and promised that all who should pursue this course would be protected in their civil and religious rights; and the next day he addressed Armijo in the same strain, telling him that resistance would not only be in vain, but would cause the people to suffer, and adding that submission would be greatly for his interest and for theirs.[14.9] Captain Cooke of the dragoons was made the bearer of this communication, and with an escort of twelve picked men he went forward under a white flag.[14.16]

August 1 the "long-legged infantry," who were almost able to outmarch the cavalry, left the rendezvous, and on the following day the so-called army was all in motion. After crossing the Arkansas a little way above the Fort, it soon turned off to the southwest, and followed in general the line of the present Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. Before long the troops found on the right a high range of mountains, thrusting up twin peaks into the region of perpetual snow, while the gleaming wall of the far Rockies came every day nearer; and on the left gazed over wide plains--broken with ridge, plateau or butte--which stretched away toward the east, until one could not say where earth and sky met. Near the present boundary of New Mexico began the ascent of Raton Pass; and the men, winding up the rugged valley, discovered most beautiful flowers. But they were hardly in a condition to enjoy them, for the rations--cut down one half or more--consisted of flour stirred up in water, fried, and eaten with a little pork; and the implacable Kearny, an embodiment of energy and resolution, hurried them along by marches that were almost incredibly hard. What lay ahead nobody knew. It was not even certain that the present scanty rations would hold out. But the watchword was always, Forward; and even the magnificent views at the summit of the Pass, where Raton Mountain upreared a series of castellated pinnacles somewhat like those of the Ichang gorge on the upper Yangtse River, attracted but little attention.[14.16]

[KEARNY'S POLITICAL ACTION]

August 15, at the new and unimportant village of Las Vegas began Kearny's political work. From the flat roof of a house the General--for his commission as brigadier general had now overtaken him--said to the people substantially this: "For some time the United States has considered your country a part of our territory, and we have come to take possession of it. We are among you as friends--not as enemies; as protectors--not as conquerors; for your benefit--not your injury. I absolve you from all allegiance to the Mexican government and to Armijo.[14.10] They have not defended you against the Indians, but the United States will. All who remain peaceably at home shall be safeguarded in person and in property. Their religion also shall be protected. A third of my army are Roman Catholics. I was not brought up in that faith myself, yet I respect your creed, and so does my government. But listen! If any one promises to be quiet and is found in arms against me, I will hang him. Resistance would be useless. There are my soldiers, and many more are coming. You, then, who are in office will now take the oath of allegiance to the United States, and I will support your authority."[14.16]

Tecolote also, at the bottom of the valley, witnessed a scene of this kind; and the next day, crossing the swift Pecos, Kearny followed a similar course at the red adobe town of San Miguel. Here the alcalde said he would rather wait until after the capture of Santa Fe. "It is enough for you to know, Sir, that I have captured your town," was the stern reply. Doubtless, in their muddled way, the people wondered at this first illustration of liberty; but with characteristic politeness, timidity and guile they wrinkled their faces as if pleased. In spite of orders and sentinels the fields of waving corn, full of ears just prime for roasting, suffered a little; but Kearny paid for the damage, and that at least was appreciated.[14.16]

By this time officers sent forward to learn the state of public sentiment at the city of Taos, an important seat of the Pueblo Indians, and at Santa Fe had returned with unwelcome reports, and several American residents had brought warnings of danger. The activity of Mexican spies--kindly treated when captured, and in some cases released at once with friendly messages--proved that Armijo was alert; and on August 14 his reply to the note sent by Cooke, while proposing that Kearny halt and that negotiations be opened, informed the General that the people were rising _en masse_ to defend the province, and that Armijo would place himself at their head.[14.11] Fifteen hundred dragoons had reached or were near Santa Fe, it was reported; and at a natural gateway, cutting a ridge about four hundred feet high, a hostile force was said to be waiting. On hearing this news all the weary men and their drooping steeds came to life. The banners and guidons were unfurled. "To horse!" blared the trumpets; "Trot! Gallop! Charge!" And with sabres glittering under a brilliant sun the troopers dashed round a sharp turn into the pass, while the artillery thundered after them, and the infantry scrambled over the ridge. Not an enemy was found; but the reports agreed that Apache Canyon, some distance farther on, would be stiffly and strongly defended.[14.16]

This was extremely serious news. To march nearly 2000 soldiers eight or nine hundred miles through a wilderness involved fearful risks, and the expedition was now at the breaking point. The men had become travel-worn and half-starved; many, if not all, were suffering from the effects of the water, loaded with acrid salts, which they had been drinking; the horses generally were on their last legs; and hundreds of horses and mules actually could not march another day. It had already been necessary to attach cattle to the ammunition wagons, and the cannon were now dragged along with extreme difficulty. The provisions had practically been exhausted. And here lay a defile seven or eight miles long, guarded by several thousand militia, a force of regulars and considerable artillery.[14.16]

[CROSS-CURRENTS]

As these facts indicate, the New Mexicans did not seem willing to justify Polk's expectations. Whatever Armijo's own opinions, public sentiment appeared to demand action. There existed a good deal of warlike spirit in the province, and naturally the prospect of an armed invasion excited resentment. The ignorant and suspicious people were easily persuaded, after their hard experience under Mexican rule, that the Americans were coming to take their property; and the priests added, that besides abusing the women these ruffians would brand them on the cheek as mules were branded. August 8 the governor therefore issued a proclamation, summoning the people to take up arms in the cause of "sacred independence"; the prefect of Taos and presumably other local authorities followed his example; and several thousand of the people,[14.12] Mexicans or Indians, many of them armed only with bows and arrows, clubs or lariats, but all apparently eager to fight, were placed at Apache Canyon under Colonel Manuel Pino.[14.16]

At this juncture, however, Cooke, a Chihuahua merchant named González and one James Magoffin, a jovial and rich Kentucky Irishman, prominent in the caravan trade and long a resident of Chihuahua, arrived at Santa Fe. Magoffin had been introduced by Senator Benton to Polk, and after some talk had consented to act as a sort of informal commissioner to Armijo in the interest of peaceful relations. He now argued, according to the very reasonable statement of the governor, that American rule would enhance the price of real estate and make New Mexico prosperous.[14.13] Undoubtedly he dwelt upon the impossibility of successful resistance; and probably he suggested--though Armijo's avarice required no hint on this point--that should cordial feelings prevail, the duties on the approaching merchandise, a fortune in themselves, would be paid at the Santa Fe customhouse, where the governor could handle them.[14.16]

On the other hand, no aid was coming from the south. The 1500 dragoons were not even phantasmal. Ugarte's cheering statement that he could bring 1000 men to New Mexico had no doubt been intended, and no doubt was understood, as mere stimulation. According to the latest returns, New Mexico, Chihuahua, Durango and Zacatecas together had less than 2000 poorly equipped and poorly subsisted troops, the greater part of whom were the scattered and almost worthless Presidials. The general government, when officially notified of the coming invasion, merely issued a few nugatory orders and expressed "profound regret." The people's loyalty to the government and especially to the governor appeared uncertain. Armijo understood that he was not a general, and no doubt understood also that he was a coward; and for all these reasons he decided--though wavering to the end--that hostilities were to be avoided, should that be possible. Diego Archuleta also, one of the chief military officers, was approached by Magoffin, and under genial manipulation proved to be much less bloodthirsty than had been supposed. Consul Alvarez, it will be recalled, had previously found the subordinate officials tractable, and it may safely be supposed in general that very little desire to fight the Americans existed in the governor's entourage.[14.16]

Pino seems to have felt differently, however, and when Armijo was on the road to the canyon, August 16, with two or three hundred soldiers and about eight guns, he received a message from that officer threatening to come and fetch him, if he did not join the militia. This augured ill, and the augury proved correct. The people demanded to be led against the enemy, but Armijo said the Americans were too strong. Pino offered to attack if he could have a part of the regulars, but the governor was determined to keep them all for his own protection. Then he was called a traitor, and retaliated by calling the people disloyal and cowardly. They threatened him; and he, more afraid of his own army than of Kearny's, urged the militia to go home and let the regulars do the fighting. Threatened again, he forbade the people to come near his camp; and finally he turned his cannon in their direction.[14.16]

In reality the people themselves had no great hunger for battle. Besides detesting Armijo, they were doubtless influenced by much lurking anti-Mexican or pro-American sentiment; had probably learned to question the diabolical intentions attributed to Kearny's troops; were fully aware in a general way of American superiority; and felt deeply impressed by tales about the great number of the invaders, their long train, their many guns, their enormous horses and the terrible men themselves--an army, in short, such as they had never dreamed of before. The quarrels of their leaders both disgusted and disheartened them; and they began to think, too, of their lives, families and property. August 17, therefore, they broke up, and went every man his own way. A council of the regular officers favored retreat. The Presidials deserted or were dismissed; the cannon were spiked and left in the woods; and in about two weeks Armijo--though offered personal security and freedom at Santa Fe--turned up at Chihuahua with ninety dragoons. He had proved not exactly a traitor, perhaps;[14.14] but certainly not a patriot, and still more certainly, if that was possible, not a hero.[14.16]

[OPPOSITION COLLAPSES]

The result was that on August 17 a fat alcalde rode up to Kearny on his mule at full speed, and with a roar of laughter cried, "Armijo and his troops have gone to hell and the Canyon is all clear." The news was confirmed; and early the next day, instead of turning the pass by a difficult and circuitous route, of which the General had learned, the Americans advanced boldly, though still with caution, on their last hard march--twenty-eight miles to Santa Fe. Just beyond the defile, at a position that might easily have been made impregnable, were found light breastworks, a sort of abatis, a spiked cannon, and tracks which guided some of Clark's men to the rest of Armijo's ordnance. At three o'clock, after receiving a note of welcome from Vigil, the acting governor, General Kearny, riding at the head of the troops, came in sight of the town. Neither man nor beast had been allowed to stop for food that day, and the column dragged heavily; but the rear was up three hours later, and then, leaving the artillery on a commanding hill, the rest of the troops eagerly entered Santa Fe.[14.16]

Alas, the Mecca of so many dreams and hopes was promptly rechristened "Mud Town," for it proved to be only a straggling collection of adobe hovels lying in the flat sandy valley of a mountain stream, where a main line of the Rockies came to an end amidst a gray-brown, dry and barren country.[14.15] Even the palace, a long one-story adobe building, had no floor; and after partaking of refreshments, addressing the people in his usual tone of mingled courtesy and firmness, and listening to the salute of thirteen guns which greeted the raising of the Stars and Stripes, Kearny had to sleep on its carpeted ground, while most of the troops, too exhausted to eat, camped on the hill.[14.16]

[NEW MEXICO OCCUPIED]

The next day Kearny delivered a more formal address, but the style of his remarks was the same as before; and his kindly, simple, determined manner produced an excellent impression. Thundering vivas answered him; and then Vigil, basing his remarks on the conviction that "no one in the world has resisted successfully the power of the stronger," expressed a joyless yet hopeful acceptance of the situation. We now belong to a great and powerful nation, he said, and we are assured that a prosperous future awaits us. Such of the officials as desired to retain their places then took an oath of allegiance to the United States. The following day chiefs of the Pueblo Indians came in and submitted, and on the twenty-second Kearny issued a proclamation. This embodied the same assurances and warnings as the addresses, but it added that western as well as eastern New Mexico was to be occupied, that all the inhabitants were claimed as American citizens, and that a free government would be established as soon as possible.[14.17]

By this time a fort, named after Marcy, had begun to be visible on the hill. The site was not well adapted for a regular work; but as it commanded the town perfectly at a distance of about six hundred yards from the palace, and was not commanded by any eminence, it served the purpose admirably. One point, however, still caused anxiety. There seemed to be danger that the Río Abajo district, supported by troops from the south, might rise against the invaders; and reports came that pointed toward precisely such an event. Kearny went down the river, therefore, on September 2 with seven hundred men. But he found no enemy. The Americans were everywhere well received and entertained. Ugarte had indeed left El Paso del Norte for New Mexico on August 10, but his troops numbered only four hundred; they had little ammunition and no artillery; Armijo discouraged him by saying that 6000 Americans were on their way south; the prospect of marching eighteen days--a part of the time in a desert--was not inviting; and so the expedition went home. Kearny returned to Santa Fe on September 11, and about noon on the twenty-fifth he set out with his effective dragoons for California, dreaming of a new conquest.[14.17]

XV

CHIHUAHUA

December, 1846-May, 1847

Foreseeing that more troops would go to Santa Fe than New Mexico would require, Kearny had written to General Wool on August 22 that he would have the surplus join that officer at Chihuahua,[15.1] and shortly before marching for the coast he gave orders that Price with his command, Clark's artillery, a part of the Laclede Rangers and the two companies of infantry should hold Santa Fe, and that Doniphan's men should execute this plan; but on October 6 an order was received from him that Doniphan should first ensure the security of the people by settling matters with the Eutaw and Navajo Indians. September 28 Price arrived, and by the twentieth of October, 1220 new Missouri volunteers and 500 Mormons were on the scene. The Eutaws had now been reduced, it was believed, to a peaceable frame of mind; and while the warlike and superior Navajos proved a harder problem, a remarkable seven-weeks campaign amid snow and mountains, which ended with a treaty, seemed to ensure their good behavior. The caravans bound for Chihuahua, becoming alarmed, had now stopped at Valverde, a point not far south of the wretched settlement named Socorro, and begged for protection. Without losing time, therefore, Doniphan concentrated his force at Valverde by December 12, and with 856 effectives, all mounted and armed with rifles, prepared to set out on a long, adventurous march into an unknown and hostile country.[15.6]

[DONIPHAN AND HIS MEN]

No less extraordinary than such an undertaking were the commander and the men who undertook it. Doniphan was a frontier lawyer, entirely unacquainted with military science, but a born leader. When in Washington during the civil war he stood back to back with Abraham Lincoln, it is said, and overtopped that son of Anak by half an inch. The only distinguished man he had ever met that "came up to the advertisement," was the President's comment. High cheek bones, a prominent chin, thinnish and tightly closed lips, a mop of carroty hair parted well down on the left, a beard of the same hue under his chin, small, deep-set eyes, a strongly built nose, spare cheeks and a ruddy complexion told of enterprise, daring, endurance, wary judgment and kind, sincere impulses. In council he was shrewd and in danger fearless, with always a twinkle in his eye, a smile on his lips, and a cheering, well-timed pleasantry on his tongue.[15.6]

His men, recruited from the rural districts, had felt they were scorned a little by the St. Louis contingent, and had vowed to show them what "country boys" were made of; but they proposed to do it in their own way. While the city men had uniforms and military discipline, the riflemen neither had nor wanted such embarrassments. As every officer was a man of their own choice, they felt at liberty to choose also how far to respect and obey him. Doniphan, who loved his "boys" like a father, was loved in return, and they were ready to do anything for him; but a minor authority who meddled with their reserved rights, whatever these might happen to be, was likely to hear some vigorous cursing. Any form of manly dissipation was to their taste, as a rule; and they despised all carefulness, all order, all restraint. Yet they were "good fellows" at heart, and as full of fight as gamecocks; and now--on half rations, no salt and no pay[15.2]--they felt ready for whatever Mexico could offer.[15.6]

At Valverde Doniphan heard that forces were coming from Chihuahua to defend El Paso, some two hundred miles from Socorro, and sent an order to Santa Fe that Major Clark with six guns and one hundred men should march as soon as possible to his assistance; but without waiting for him the command advanced in three sections on the fourteenth, sixteenth and eighteenth of December. Below Valverde the Rio Grande makes a great bend towards the west, and runs through a wild, mountainous region; and hence travellers bound for the south left it on the right. Adopting this course, the Americans now marched for ninety or ninety-five miles through the dreaded Jornada del Muerto (_Dead Man's Journey_), where they found no settlements except some prairie-dog towns, little vegetation except sage brush, and no water at all. At the coldest season of the year, when sentries at Santa Fe were having their feet frozen, to make such a march at an elevation of more than a mile and a quarter without fuel or tents[15.3] was clearly a good beginning. At Dona Ana, the only settlement between El Paso--sixty or sixty-five miles farther on--and Valverde, the straggling command was supposed to concentrate; but the concentration seemed rather nominal. Dirty, unshaven and ragged, the troops marched almost as they pleased. They were determined to survive, go ahead and fight, but little else appeared to them requisite. It was now reported that seven hundred soldiers and six guns were awaiting them at El Paso; but on December 23 the command moved on.[15.6]

The likelihood of invasion from the north had long been foreseen by the authorities of Chihuahua, and the expediency of making a stand at the threshold was obvious. But the citizens of El Paso, the border town, who were practical, industrious and thrifty people, had been greatly influenced, like those of New Mexico, by interest in the caravan business, contact with American traders and wagoners, and acquaintance with the ideas and methods of the United States. Almost openly, men said the town would thrive more under American rule, argued that it was the intention of the government at Mexico to sacrifice the people for the aggrandizement of its partisans and the privileged classes, pointed out that no substantial forces had come north, and asserted that what soldiers had arrived were under orders to withdraw without fighting, and leave the citizens to be punished for their loyalty.[15.6]

Public spirit fell to a low ebb, and there it remained. No one thought it endangered health to shout "_Viva México!_" But it was believed by many that in a community so honeycombed with treason, active, determined efforts in her cause would be liable to bring on an attack of cold steel or lead in some dorsal area; and when the governor of Chihuahua sent the prefect instructions on September 19 to retire, on the approach of the enemy, with all the armed forces, cattle and provisions, collect the resources of the district, and fight stubbornly on the guerilla system, no intention of obeying this order could be observed. October 12 an expedition designed to forestall invasion set out for the north; but at Dona Ana some of the troops--covertly stimulated by officers--became insubordinate; the commander understood public sentiment well enough to take their side; the whole body returned at full speed to El Paso; and the prefect dared not, or did not wish, to discipline anybody.[15.6]

There were now on the scene and in arms about four hundred and fifty troops and apparently about seven hundred National Guards with four guns.[15.4] In general two accepted schools of thought divided the soldiery. Some were for not fighting hard, and some--including most of the Presidials and National Guards--for not fighting at all; while the few and unpopular zealots felt paralyzed by a want of confidence. Colonel Cuylti, the commander, belonged to the second school of thought; and on the evening before he was to move against Doniphan, whose march had been reported about a week before, he fell sick with a subjective disability officially diagnosed as brain fever, and set out for Chihuahua with his accommodating surgeon. Lieutenant Colonel Vidal succeeded to the command and also, it would seem, to the disability, for after proclaiming martial law and pitching his camp some three miles from El Paso, he concluded to halt. The American van, described as consisting of about three hundred straggling countrymen in tatters without artillery, could be surrounded and lanced like so many rabbits, he said; but he was not personally in the mood for sport, and hence conceded this pleasure to the second in command, Brevet Lieutenant Colonel Ponce de León, assigning to him at least five hundred men[15.5] and a 2-pound howitzer.[15.6]

[SKIRMISH AT EL BRAZITO]

At about three o'clock on Christmas afternoon Doniphan, with less than five hundred of his careless, confident volunteers, reached a level spot on the eastern bank of the Rio Grande named Temascalitos, though often called El Brazito, approximately thirty miles from El Paso. Pickets and sentries--but not supper--being superfluous, the men scattered in search of water, fuel and other conveniences. Mexican scouts were observing their operations; but, strong in conscious rectitude, the Missourians neither knew nor cared what the enemy were about. Suddenly armed men could be seen in fine order on a hill about half a mile distant. The rally was sounded. The volunteers rushed for their arms, and with all speed they were loosely formed as a line of infantry, bent back at the extremities toward the river, and resting at the left on the wagons of the caravan.[15.6]

With graceful consideration Ponce gave them time by sending a lieutenant with a black flag to demand that Doniphan should present himself. Otherwise, added the messenger, we shall charge and take him, neither giving nor asking quarter. "Charge and be damned!" was of course the reply; and the Mexicans then advanced, opening fire at about four hundred yards from our line. Several volleys were delivered while the Americans, either lying down or standing firmly with cocked rifles, withheld their fire. But the powder of the Mexicans was mostly bad, they shot high, and their little gun was mismanaged.[15.6]

By this time they had come within easy range. At command the American volunteers now fired with great effect, and a flanking movement against the wagons was received with equal spirit by the traders and their men. Evidently there was a mistake. These fellows were not rabbits; and the Presidials and El Paso militia, candidly recognizing Vidal's blunder, retired in disorder, compelling the rest of the body to do the same. Speed now compensated for any possible want of courage; and a party of fifteen or twenty mounted Americans, who pursued the enemy for miles, could not bring any of them to a stand. Doniphan's loss amounted to seven men slightly wounded; that of the Mexicans to a howitzer captured and perhaps a hundred men killed or wounded; and this farcical brush, lasting thirty or forty minutes in all, has figured in American annals as the "battle" of Brazito.[15.6]

[EL PASO OCCUPIED]

The Mexican troops now evacuated the district; the National Guards disbanded; and presently a humble deputation from El Paso was explaining to Doniphan that arms had been taken up by the citizens under compulsion. Two days after the skirmish, therefore, amid a general appearance of satisfaction, he and his rough troopers concluded they had reached paradise. Along the Rio Grande, mostly on the southern side, ten or twelve thousand people occupied settlements extending downstream for many miles. Above, there was a dam; and artificial streams from that point not only irrigated the rich fields and vineyards, but watered the orchards, in which many of the houses were buried, and freshened the long and regular streets, which not only were shaded by lines of trees full of lively and tuneful birds, but were kept neat by daily sweeping. To drill, practice twice a day at the targets, and feast on the abundant fruits in such a place was a most agreeable change from the Jornada del Muerto.[15.11]

El Paso did not prove, however, to be exactly a paradise. Unlimited self-indulgence led to considerable sickness, and several men died. It led also to disorders and to outrages on the people, and before long two lieutenants, both intoxicated, fought with dirks. Moreover it was now learned that Wool had not gone to Chihuahua,[15.7] that great preparations for resistance were making there, and that a serious insurrection--purposely exaggerated by the Mexican reports--had occurred in the rear.[15.8] The boldest appeared therefore to be the wisest course--to push forward, and conquer or die.[15.9] But without cannon only the second alternative was possible, and the artillery did not arrive. Price was in fact extremely unwilling to part with it, and owing to this and other difficulties Clark was unable to set out for El Paso until January 10. Then his men encountered even more painful hardships than Doniphan's had undergone, for they had to struggle with snow--to say nothing of almost perishing with hunger, and being nearly buried in a sandstorm; and it was not until February 5 that men, guns and wagons joined the impatient command.[15.11]

Three days afterwards the belated expedition set out on its march for Chihuahua--nearly three hundred miles distant--with 924 effective soldiers, besides about three hundred traders and teamsters, who were sworn into the service by Doniphan and elected a merchant named Owens as their major. About seven hundred of the troops belonged to the First Missouri regiment, about one hundred to Clark's artillery, and about one hundred to a body named the Chihuahua Rangers, made up at Santa Fe.[15.10] There were four 6-pounders, two 12-pound howitzers, and about 315 goods-wagons besides the wagons belonging to the companies and the commissary department, each with its quota of attendants; and as the column, with every banner unfurled, wound into the distance as far as the eye could see, it made a gallant and picturesque sight. It was exposed to a rear attack from Sonora; but that state, while alive to the opportunity, had not the means to take advantage of it.[15.11]

Troubles enough presented themselves, however. The country was bare and monotonous, producing little except the crooked mezquite and an occasional willow. A desert sixty-five miles wide and another nearly as large had to be crossed. Heat alternated with cold, and one day it was necessary to kindle fires repeatedly to warm benumbed limbs. Tents were blown down by storms. More than once no fuel and no water could be had for days. Antelopes and hares could frequently be seen; but the tarantulas, rattlesnakes and copperheads were far more numerous, and far more willing to be intimate. One day, when the army was in camp at a lake, the grass took fire, and in an instant a small flame went scudding off, burning a narrow trail. Soon this was driven by a whirlwind up the mountain side, spreading into a vast blaze; and then, gathering force, it rolled back upon the camp like a tidal wave. By arts known to the plainsman almost everything was saved; but with a fearful roaring and crackling a surge of fire swept over the encampment, proving how great the danger had been.[15.11]

The state of things in the country farther south could not easily be ascertained, for the authorities at Chihuahua had cut off all communication with the north; but there were hostile spies, and some of them, taken prisoners, had to give instead of obtaining information. About seven hundred Mexican cavalry--said to be twice as many--were discovered in front looking for a favorable opening, which they did not find. At length, crossing a handsome plain on February 27, the expedition came at nightfall to the hacienda of El Sauz, and learned that strong fortifications had been erected at the Sacramento River, fifteen miles farther on. That was the next watering-place, and evidently it would have to be fought for; so a halt was made and a plan devised. "Cheer up, boys," said Doniphan with a twinkle; "To-morrow evening I intend to have supper with the Mexicans on the banks of a beautiful spring."[15.11]

[THE SITUATION AT CHIHUAHUA]

As early as August, 1846, Chihuahua had expected this visit; and the governor, saying that Kearny's army had occupied New Mexico "as easily as it would have pitched its tents in the desert," seemed ready to let the operation be repeated in his own state. Perhaps he was merely weak, but the same pro-American influences of a commercial nature that we have observed at El Paso and Santa Fe were rife about him, and there was also much sentiment in favor of establishing the northern provinces as an independent republic under the protection of the United States. Over against these ideas, however, and possibly because of them, existed a peculiarly intense hatred of us, exasperated now by the loss of New Mexico and the fear of American outrages.[15.13]

Near the end of August the governor was forced out, and Angel Trias, an active, ambitious man, rich, and most unfriendly to the Americans, took his place; and the great body of the citizens, either anxious to defend themselves against invasion or dreading to be thought disloyal, rallied about him. The central government became interested, ordered several northern states to aid Chihuahua, and instructed Reyes, comandante general of Zacatecas, to assume the defence of New Mexico, Chihuahua and Durango. But embarrassments then arose; delays ensued; and Santa Anna, according to his policy of concentrating the military strength of the country under his own command and disregarding non-essential territory, frowned upon all national efforts to defend the northern frontier. It was now November; and the government, appointing the unpopular Heredia comandante general at Chihuahua, yielded to Santa Anna's views.[15.13]

Trias, however, did not abandon hope. The resources of the state were scanty indeed. The effective colonial method of protecting the border had long since been given up, and Indian raids, beginning about 1831, had fast impoverished the haciendas. During the past year, perhaps because the savages believed the Mexican troops would be required for the war, these incursions had been worse than ever before. A single party of Comanches had numbered more than eight hundred. It was indispensable, therefore, to employ some of the military forces in the protection of the settlements; but more than 10,000 men were enrolled in the National Guard, and Trias felt sure that Chihuahua state was inherently strong enough to defeat Doniphan, whose approach was duly reported.[15.13]

The chief needs were money and armament. Artillery had been practically unknown in that region, but it was found possible to cast and mount a number of pieces, and infantry soldiers learned to use them. Arms were gathered and repaired; ammunition and clothing were manufactured; and by dint of local borrowing the expenses were met. Santa Anna finally had 255 men sent from Durango; and in the end nearly 1200 mounted troops (many of them Presidials), some 1500 infantry including about seventy regulars of the Seventh Regiment, 119 artillery, probably more than 1000 rancheros armed with long knives (_machetes_) and rude lances, ten brass cannon ranging from 4-pounders to 9-pounders, and nine musketoons on carriages appear to have been assembled.[15.12] The men were enthusiastic and eagerly obedient, and the leaders--Heredia for chief and Trias as second in command--felt proud of their army. As for the Brazito affair, which had caused much discouragement, it seemed now like a bad dream.[15.13]

[THE SACRAMENTO POSITION]

February 10 a portly, handsome officer arrived at Chihuahua. This was General García Conde, and the next day he and the other chiefs, after reconnoitring the pass at the Sacramento River, fifteen or eighteen miles to the north, decided to make a stand at that point. It was a wise decision. The stream, running here toward the east, was crossed at a ford by the route from El Paso, which had a north and south direction. Rather more than two miles north of the river and approximately parallel with it, there was a broad watercourse, now dry and sandy, known as the Arroyo Seco, which after crossing the El Paso highway continued in its easterly course about a mile and a half, turned then toward the south, and joined the river about a mile and a half below the ford. Along the northern bank of the Arroyo lay a road, which extended on the eastern side of the highway to the junction of this watercourse with the Sacramento, while on the western side, bending toward the south, it crossed that river three miles or so above the ford, passed the hacienda of El Torreón, penetrated a defile in the steep and rocky foothills thrust out here by the western cordillera, and rejoined the highway about six miles farther on toward Chihuahua. A triangular block of rugged hills lay thus between this road, the highway and the river, the northeastern corner of which (called Sacramento Hill) almost reached the solid adobe buildings of Sacramento hacienda near the ford.[15.13]

Between the river and the Arroyo lay elevated ground cut straight across by the highway. The portion west of the highway was a fairly smooth plateau ascending very gently toward the western cordillera, but the other part rose immediately east of the highway about fifty feet, and formed--roughly speaking--a square one and a half miles on a side, with a broad, smooth hollow in the middle that debouched at the southeastern corner toward the Sacramento, and a dominating hill called the Cerro Frijoles at the northeastern corner, toward which the square sloped up. On the north and west edges of the square the Mexicans constructed a series of well-planned and well-executed redoubts alternating with breastworks--which extended from Cerro Frijoles at the northeast to what we may call Fort N at the southwest--supplemented near the ford with fortifications on both banks of the river, and finally with a redoubt halfway up Sacramento Hill; and these works commanded perfectly the highway, the Arroyo road and the valley of the river. The Torreón route seemed impracticable for the American wagons, but even here fortifications were erected; and still others guarded the Arroyo near its junction with the Sacramento. The principal camp lay in the hollow of the square, which not only protected the troops but concealed both their numbers and their movements.[15.13]

In a word, the position consisted essentially of a tongue of land crossed near its elevated tip by the El Paso highway, with the Sacramento River and the Arroyo Seco on its edges, a series of fortifications round its tip, and an answering fortification beyond the river on a hill. It seemed to bar the way of the Americans completely. The Mexicans felt sure that it did so, and on the evening of February 27, jubilant and boastful, they even talked of recovering New Mexico. Anyhow these presumptuous and contemptible Yankees were to be cut up, and the booty would include a caravan worth a million. Yet influential Chihuahuans had a financial interest in that caravan,[15.13] and one may be sure they were not asleep.[15.14]

[THE BATTLE OF SACRAMENTO]

Next morning the Americans awoke early. Already the horses had been carefully inured to explosions of powder. Now swords were filed, rifles loaded afresh, straps tested, and even the linch-pins of the wagons inspected; and by daybreak the command set out. To make it compact, ready for attack from any quarter and perplexing to hostile observers, the wagons were formed in four well-separated columns of about one hundred each; the artillery and most of the troops marched between these columns, and the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson--regarded as proper cavalry and not simply mounted men--rode in front as advance guard and screen; and in this formation, with banners and guidons flaunting to impress the enemy, it rolled forward through a valley about four miles wide, bounded on each hand by a massive, barren cordillera,[15.15] until at about half-past one the troops, coming in sight of the Mexican works, noticed a quick, sharp flash there: the Mexican cavalry drawing their sabres.[15.17]

Doniphan and his principal officers now galloped ahead, and at a distance of two or three miles reconnoitred most carefully with glasses the Mexican position. It looked impregnable; and when the command was about a mile and a half distant from it, the Colonel--first ordering his cavalry screen to keep on advancing--turned the main body sharply to the right, intending to cross the Arroyo Seco higher up, and gain the plateau there. It was a brilliant scheme but perilous. Good troops, not encumbered with artillery or baggage, might undertake such a manoeuvre even in the face of the enemy, but with four hundred wagons, most of them extremely heavy, it seemed impossible for untrained volunteers to cross the Arroyo, and mount the high bank of the plateau; yet not only was it a chief part of the soldiers' business to protect the wagons, but it looked as if the wagons might soon be needed to protect the soldiers. Hence this desperate attempt had to be made. Heredia observed it immediately; and, concluding that the Americans were aiming, as a last hope, to avoid his works and follow the Torreón route, he instructed García Conde, the chief cavalry officer, to hold them in check until the artillery and infantry could arrive and finish them.[15.17]

But these Americans were no ordinary men; and while they had little fear of death, it was their belief that defeat would mean dungeons and torture. After marching for some distance with all possible speed up the Arroyo road, they stopped at the point selected. Instantly shovels, pickaxes, crowbars and ropes were out of the supply wagon, and for a few moments the sand flew as if electrified. Then the drivers yelled like Apaches; the mules were stimulated by every art known to drivers; and the swaying wagons headed for the ravine. At the brink many of the frightened animals, twisting their necks back till they almost broke, stopped short; but the men pushed them along, and down they all plunged, floundering, biting and kicking. Across the deep, sandy bottom they were driven or dragged amid shouts, curses and "hell let loose," as a soldier put it; and then came the real struggle--the opposite ascent, forty or fifty feet high. Wild with excitement, pain and fright, the animals exerted every nerve, scrambling, jumping, rearing and panting; the teamsters yelled and flogged; and the soldiers tugged and lifted at the wheels, or pulled with hundreds of ropes. In a few minutes, as it seemed, the incredible was done, and the command, forming on the plateau as before, advanced. Already the Mexican horse were dashing on, brandishing their lances in the sun, fluttering their bright pennons, and waving a black flag decorated with a skull and crossbones; but, as Doniphan did not appear to be making for El Torréon, they concluded to halt, and let the infantry and artillery overtake them.[15.17]