After the surrender the army camp was moved out of the sand hills and
to the beach. That was a great relief――to be away from the swamps and
thickets and dust and the thousands of small flies and millions of
fleas. Some of the clever officers had been greasing themselves all
over with pork rind and sleeping in canvas bags drawn tightly around
their necks; but even this did not work.
General Worth was appointed military governor of Vera Cruz; another
honor for the First Division. General Quitman’s brigade of Mohawks was
put in as garrison.
The men were granted leave, in squads, to go into Vera Cruz. And Vera
Cruz was a sad sight, as Jerry found out when he and Hannibal strolled
through. The bombs from the mortars had crashed through the tiled roofs
of the buildings, burst the walls apart, and had made large holes in
the paved streets. It was dangerous to walk because of the loosened
cornices of the roofs. The beautiful cathedral had been struck; it now
was a hospital, containing hundreds of wounded soldiers and civilians.
But the most interesting thing to “military men” was the wall on
the side of the city toward the naval battery. The sixty-eights and
thirty-twos had hewed two openings――had simply pulverized the coral
rock laid twelve feet thick; and a wagon and team might be driven
through either gap. The bastions, also, and the outlying batteries,
had been knocked to smithereens.
Yet it was astonishing how quickly American rule was bringing order.
The streets were being rapidly cleaned up by squads of soldiers and
by the Mexicans who were hired. Shops were doing a big business――the
soldiers, especially the Volunteers, were gorging themselves with
fruits and vegetables and cakes. The harbor was again crowded with
masts, of American transports and merchantmen flying many flags. The
sea-wall was a regular market, piled with bales and boxes and crates
for the army, and thronged with people white, yellow and black, who set
up stalls, or crowded around the huge naval guns hauled there to be
placed back upon the ships of Commodore Perry’s squadron. A new wharf
was being built, extending out clear to the coaling depot that had been
erected upon the reef near the castle, at the entrance to the harbor.
Assuredly old Vera Cruz was being Americanized. But although everything
was under strict martial law, and one negro camp follower who had
frightened a Mexican woman had been promptly tried and hanged, Jerry
never caught a glimpse of the two Manuels among all the Mexicans who
stayed in safety.
He was not now afraid of the two Manuels. They had cuffed him and had
sneered at the “gringos”――but here the gringos were, unbeaten! And Vera
Cruz belonged to the Mexicans no longer.
In a short time the camp was moved again, to the plain between the city
and the sand hills. The men had been rested; they were set at work
drilling. As soon as horses and mules and wagons arrived from the
United States, the march for the City of Mexico would be begun.
“Let’s go over to the Volunteer camp and watch the foot Mustangs
drill,” Hannibal proposed, one afternoon. “That’s great fun.”
So they went to the Third Division camp. A number of companies were
being put through their drill, according to the tactics of General
Scott. The Kentuckians (a regiment newly arrived) were exercising in
the manual of arms.
“Eyes――right!”
“Eyes――left!”
“Front!”
“Shoulder――arms!”[1]
[1] In Scott’s Tactics “shoulder arms” was the same as “carry arms.”
“Secure――arms!”
“Shoulder――arms!”
“Order――arms!”
“Rest!”
“Attention――company!”
“Shoulder――arms!”
“Right shoulder――shift!”
“Shoulder――arms!”
“Charge――bayonets!”
“Shoulder――arms!”
“Load in twelve times――load!”