THE SORTIE.
As Miramón had stated to the adventurer, at five o'clock, a.m.
precisely, he left Mexico at the head of his troops. His forces were
not numerous, they only consisted of three thousand five hundred men,
infantry and cavalry, without artillery, on account of the execrable
roads along which he was obliged to march. Every cavalryman carried an
infantry soldier behind him, in order to render the march more rapid.
It was really a _coup de main_ that the President was about to attempt,
a most hazardous one, but for that very reason it had numerous chances
of success. General Miramón rode at the head of the army, in the midst
of his staff with whom he gaily conversed; on seeing him thus calm and
smiling it might have been fancied that no anxiety disturbed his mind;
he seemed on leaving Mexico to have resumed that happy carelessness of
manner which the anxieties of power had made him so rapidly forget. The
morning, though rather fresh, promised a beautiful day, a transparent
mist rose from the ground as the sunbeams became more ardent. A few
herds could be seen scattered over the plain; some _recuas_ of mules
led by _arrieros_ and proceeding to Mexico incessantly crossed the line
of march; the well cultivated ground offered no trace of war, and, the
country, on the contrary, seemed to enjoy a profound calm.
Some Indians were running along the roads, driving oxen to the city,
others were carrying their fruit and vegetables, all were in a hurry
and carelessly singing, in order to dispel the weariness and length
of the road. On passing the President, whom they knew well, they
stopped in amazement, took off their hats and bowed to him with an
affectionate respect. Ere long, by Miramón's orders, the troops entered
almost insurmountable paths, on which the horses only advanced with
great difficulty. The country became more abrupt and diversified: the
march became more rapid, and silence was re-established in the ranks of
the troops: they were approaching the enemy.
At about ten o'clock the President ordered a halt to rest the horses
and give the soldiers time to breakfast. Usually no sight is so
curious as a Mexican army. Every soldier is accompanied by his wife,
who carries the provisions and prepares his meals. These wretched
women, exposed to all the frightful consequences of war, camp at
some distance from the troops when they halt, which give the Mexican
armies the appearance of an emigration of barbarians. When a battle
is being fought, they remain impassive spectators of the contest,
knowing beforehand that they will become the prey of the victor, but
accepting, or rather yielding with philosophic indifference to this
hard necessity. This time it was not so; the President had expressly
prohibited any woman from following the army, the soldiers therefore
carried their provisions ready cooked in the _alforjas_ hanging behind
the saddle; a precaution which, while avoiding a considerable loss of
time, had the additional advantage of rendering fires unnecessary.
At eleven boot and saddle was sounded, and the troops at once fell
into their ranks. They were approaching Toluca, the spot where the
President resolved to await the enemy. The road, cut up by deep
ravines, which could only be crossed with great difficulty, became
almost impracticable; still, the soldiers were not discouraged; they
were the _élite_ of Miramón's troops, his most faithful partizans, who
had accompanied him since the beginning of the war. They had redoubled
their ardour in the presence of obstacles which they surmounted
laughingly, encouraged by the example of their young general, who
marched bravely at their head, and thus gave them a sample of patience
and self-denial.
General Cobos had been detached to reconnoitre at the head of twenty
resolute men, in order to watch the enemy's march, and warn the general
as soon as he caught sight of them, by falling back unseen on the main
body. Suddenly Miramón perceived three horsemen galloping toward him,
supposing, correctly, that they were the bearers of important news. He
spurred his horse, and hastened to meet them. He soon joined them. Of
these three men, two were soldiers; the third, who was well mounted and
armed to the teeth, appeared to be a peasant.
"Who is this man?" the President asked of one of the soldiers.
"Excellency," he replied, "this man presented himself to the general,
asking to be led to you, for he says he is the bearer of a letter which
must be handed to you personally."
"Who sent you to me?" the President asked the stranger, who stood
motionless before him.
"I pray your Excellency first to read this letter," he answered, as he
drew a sealed note from his dolman, and respectfully handed it to the
general. Miramón opened it and rapidly read it.
"Ah! Ah!" he said, examining him attentively; "What is your name, my
good fellow?"
"López, General."
"Good. So he is near here?"
"Yes, General; in ambush with three hundred horsemen."
"And he places you at my disposal?"
"Yes, General, for as long as you may want me."
"Tell me, López, do you know this country?"
"I was born in it, Excellency."
"Then you are capable of guiding us?"
"Wherever you please."
"Do you know the enemy's position?"
"Perfectly, Excellency; the heads of Generals Berriozábal and
Degollados' columns are not more than a league from Toluca, where they
intend to make a long halt."
"At what distance are we from Toluca?"
"Following this road, about three leagues, Excellency."
"That is a long way: is there no shorter road?"
"There is one that shortens the distance by more than two-thirds."
"¡Caray!" the general exclaimed, "We must take it."
"Yes, but it is narrow, dangerous, and impracticable for artillery;
even cavalry will not pass it without great difficulty."
"I have no artillery."
"In that case the thing is possible, General."
"I ask no more."
"Still, with your Excellency's permission, I will offer a bit of advice
which I think good."
"Speak."
"The road is rough; it would be better to dismount the cavalry, send
the infantry on ahead, and let the cavalry follow, leading their horses
by the bridle."
"That will delay us a long time."
"On the contrary, General; we shall go faster on foot."
"Very well: how long before we reach Toluca?"
"Three-quarters of an hour. Is that too long, General?"
"No; if you keep your promise, I will give you ten ounces."
"Although it is not interest that directs me," López said with a laugh,
"I am so certain of not making any mistake, that I regard the money as
gained."
"Well, if that is the case, take it at once," the general said, giving
him his purse.
"Thanks, Excellency; now we will set out when you like: but order your
soldiers to maintain the deepest silence, so that we may come upon the
enemy unawares, and attack him before he has time to look about him."
Miramón sent a soldier to General Cobos with orders for him to fall
back as quickly as possible; then he made his soldiers dismount, placed
the infantry in front, four abreast, the greatest width possible,
and the dismounted cavalry formed the rearguard. General Cobos soon
returned, and Miramón told him in a few words what was going on. The
President placed himself at the head of the troops, having his own
horse and the guide's led behind him, in spite of the entreaties of his
friends.
"No," he replied to their solicitations, "I am your chief; as such, the
greater part of the danger falls on me. My place is here, and I remain."
They were compelled to let him act as he pleased.
"Shall we start?" Miramón asked López.
"I am ready, General."
They set out: all their movements had been performed in the deepest
silence, with admirable rapidity and precision. López had made no
mistake; the path along which he led the troops was so rocky and
difficult, that they advanced much more rapidly on foot.
"Does this path run any long distance?" the President asked the guide.
"Within half a gunshot of Toluca, General," he answered, "at that point
it ascends until it commands Toluca, and then it is easy for cavalry to
descend to the town at a gallop."
"Hum! There is both good and bad in what you say."
"I do not understand your Excellency."
"Hang it! It is clear enough, I fancy: suppose the Puros have placed a
line of sentries on the heights, our project will be thwarted, and our
expedition rendered fruitless. You did not reflect on what you were
doing when you led us here."
"Pardon me, Excellency; the Puros know that no corps keep the field;
they believe themselves certain of having no attack to apprehend, hence
they do not take precautions, which they consider useless; moreover,
the heights to which you refer are too remote from the spot where they
will camp, and much too high for them to dream of crowning them."
"Well," the general muttered; "I must place my trust in Heaven! Now
that I am here, I will not recoil."
They continued their advance with redoubled precautions. They had
been for about five and twenty minutes on the path, when López, after
looking searchingly around, suddenly halted.
"What are you doing?" the general asked.
"As you see, Excellency, I am stopping. On the other side of that
bend before us the path begins to ascend, and we are not more than a
musket shot from Toluca. With your permission, I will go on ahead, to
make sure that the heights are not watched, and that you have a free
passage."
The general looked at him attentively. "Go," he at length said; "we
will await your return before we push on. I trust to you."
López took off his weapons and hat, which were not only useless to him,
but might betray him; and lying down on the ground, he began crawling
in the Indian fashion, and soon disappeared among the bushes that
bordered the path. At a signal from the President, the word to halt ran
rapidly along the ranks, and the army stopped almost instantaneously.
Several minutes elapsed. The generals had drawn nearer, and surrounded
the general. The guide did not return, and the anxiety was great.
"That man is a traitor," General Cobos said.
"I do not believe it," Miramón at once replied: "I am sure of the
person who sent him to me."
At this moment the bushes were parted, and a man appeared. It was
López, the guide. His face was calm, his eye bright, his step
confident. He approached the President, stopped at two paces from him,
saluted, and waited till he was spoken to.
"Well?" Miramón asked.
"I have advanced to the very crest of the heights, Excellency," he
replied. "I have distinctly seen the bivouac of the Puros. They do not
suspect your presence, and I believe that you can act."
"Then they have not posted a line of sentries on the heights?"
"No, General."
"Good! Lead me to the entrance of the path, for I must examine the
ground before I arrange my plan of attack."
López picked up his gun and hat.
"I am ready," he said.
They advanced. Behind them, at a short distance, came the army.
Everything was deserted, as the guide had announced. Miramón examined
the ground with the most serious attention.
"Good!" he muttered; "I know now what remains for me to do." and,
addressing the guide, he said, "So, your master is in ambush to attack
the enemy in the rear?"
"Yes, Excellency."
"But, how to warn him, so that his attack may coincide with ours?"
"Nothing is easier, Excellency. You see that tree which stands alone on
the top of the heights?"
"Yes, I see it; what then?"
"I have orders to cut off the head of that tree at the precise moment
when you commence the attack. The disappearance of the crown of the
tree will be the signal for him to charge."
"By heavens!" he exclaimed; "That man was born a general: nothing
escapes him. Go to the tree, climb up it, and hold yourself in
readiness. When you see me raise my sword in the air, you will lop off
the crown with one blow of your machete. You have understood me?"
"Perfectly, Excellency; but after that, what shall I do?"
"Whatever you like."
"In that case, I shall rejoin my master."
He took his horse from the asistente who was holding it, and calmly
proceeded toward the tree. Miramón divided his infantry into three
corps, and placed his cavalry in reserve. All these arrangements
made, the troops began to ascend the heights. When they reached the
top--"Forward! Forward!" Miramón shouted, waving his sword, and rushing
down the slope. The whole army rolled after him like an avalanche.
On seeing the President raise his sword, López deftly lopped off the
crown of the tree, on the top of which he was; then, when this exploit
was accomplished, he stepped down, leaped on his horse, and galloped
after the army. The sudden appearance of Miramón's troops caused a
frightful disorder in the bivouac of the Puros, who were far from
expecting so sharp and vigorous an attack, as their spies had assured
them that no corps kept the field. The soldiers ran to their arms, and
the officers tried to organize a resistance: but even before the ranks
could be formed, the President's troops were upon them, and charged
them furiously to the shouts of--
"Long live Mexico! Miramón! Miramón!"
The generals who commanded the Puros, brave and intelligent officers,
strove a tremendous resistance. At the head of those troops who had
succeeded in forming their ranks, they kept up a murderous fire,
while the guns placed in battery decimated the President's infantry.
The affair was becoming serious. The Juaristas had the advantage of
numbers. Having recovered from the panic they at first felt, there was
reason to fear that, if the combat was prolonged, they might assume the
offensive. At this moment loud shouts were heard in their rear, and
a large body of cavalry rushed upon them with couched lances. Taken
between two enemies, the Juaristas believed themselves betrayed. They
lost their heads, and began to disband. Miramón's cavalry appeared
at this moment, and vigorously charged the enemy. The combat then
degenerated into a massacre: it was no longer a fight, but a butchery.
The Juaristas, attacked in front, on the flank, and in the rear,
broke and fled. The retreat began, and was soon changed into a rout.
General Berriozábal, General Degollado, his sons, two colonels, all
the officers composing their staff, fourteen guns, a large quantity
of ammunition and arms, and nearly two thousand prisoners, fell into
Miramón's hands. The President had seven men killed, and eleven
slightly wounded. The battle had only lasted twenty-five minutes. The
victory was complete. Capricious fortune granted a last smile to the
man whose ruin she had resolved on.