“Boom! Boom-m-m!” The heavy reports jarred the breakfast cups and
platters, and rolled back from the castle and the city walls and the
mountains. Everybody sprang up to see the shots land.
“Boom! Boom! Boom-m-m!” They were two eighteen-pounders and an
eight-inch howitzer of Captain Huger’s ordnance――a twenty-four-pounder.
Dust from the pulverized stone and mortar floated above the castle
of Chapultepec――dirt and rock spurted from the breastworks of the
hillside――the Mexican soldiers were ducking and scampering. The men
cheered.
“Now let ’em tend to their own funerals, and we’ll play ’em Yankee
Doodle.”
The other battery joined. The bombardment of Chapultepec continued
steadily. The Riley brigade of General Twiggs remained in the east
upon the first main road from the south there, which entered the gate
in the southwest corner of the city wall――the Belen gate. Old Davy’s
two batteries, Taylor’s, and Steptoe’s Third Artillery detached from
the Fourth Division, were peppering the gate and also firing upon
the Mexican batteries protecting the Contreras and Churubusco roads,
still eastward. The ringing of musketry faintly chimed in with the loud
booming of the cannon.
And this was Sunday!
Just what General Scott had “up his sleeve” nobody among the rank and
file knew. The officers refused to talk. Matters looked as though
Chapultepec was to be shaken first, and when it had been well battered,
then of course there would be an assault. But where? Perhaps upon the
southern gates, in defiance of the weakened Chapultepec.
From the hill of Tacubaya the bombardment was pretty to witness. The
American guns poured in their shot and shell with perfect aim, so that
after every discharge the stones and dust and dirt were lifted in
showers. From half a mile the citadel replied lustily, at first with
ten pieces, but the firing was wild. Gradually the guns were being
silenced; the garrison was drifting out for safety, and a large body of
reinforcements from the city had halted part way to the hill, waiting
for a chance to enter.
The First Division men off duty began to sift down nearer to the
batteries to get, as Corporal Finerty remarked, “a smell o’ powder.”
Jerry, Fifer O’Toole and Hannibal caught up with the corporal on the
Tacubaya road. They four stood behind battery Number 1, which was the
two eighteen-pounders and the twenty-four-pounder howitzer, commanded
by Captain Drum, of the Fourth Artillery.
A group of the Palmettos was here. It was good to see the Mohawks
again. Palmettos, New Yorkers, and Keystoners――they had a fighting
reputation.
“Howdy?” the South Carolinans greeted easily. They were a set of men
who usually said little.
“Same to you,” Corporal Finerty answered. “An’ faith, you’ve been a
long time comin’. For why do yez trail through by night, wakin’ up a
camp that’s tired wid hard fightin’?”
“Well, pardner, you talk like you want to hawg all the fun,” they
replied. “To-morrow we’ll see who’s first up that hill――the Volunteers
or you Regulars. Even start, my bucko.”
“If you know annything, out wid it,” Corporal Finerty demanded. “Do we
storm Chapultepec, you say?”
“Would we make a forced march by night for less, Mister Regular?”
“Sure, now, what’s the use o’ foolin’ wid Chapultepec?” retorted the
corporal. “Let the ar-r-tillery tind to that, an’ wait a bit an’ we’ll
open thim southern gates for yez, so yez can come in at ’ase.”
“Never you mind those south gates. It’s Chapultepec or nothing, for the
army’s going in by the west. The engineers decided that long ago. We
heard the talk at the battery before you fellows were up. Those roads
from the south are no good, Mister. Every one leads through marshes
and is flanked by ditches and cut by batteries and other ditches, and
there’s a thundering big canal running ’round the city walls. And the
marshes and the ditches and the canal are full o’ water. So ’tis this
way, Mister: we-all and the Pillow men scouted about yesterday, backing
up Twiggs, for a showing ag’in the south. But we were ordered to
trapse hyar in front o’ Chapultepec by night, leaving only Old Davy and
his Riley brigade for a feint. And to-morrow we-all are going to see
the elephant on top o’ yonder hill.”
“B’gorry, you could fetch no better news, lads,” spoke the corporal.
“There be fourteen hundred o’ the First Division lift, to turn their
backs on the rist o’ the army an’ their faces on the enemy.”
“Nary, corporal,” they answered. “The Palmettos have something to say
to that. It’s been powerful slow, pardner, sitting in the south whilst
you fellows in the north have been burning powder. The Fourth Division
will be first up that hill or bust.”
An aide from Captain Huger, who directed the general bombardment, rode
along the line of batteries waving the spectators back.
“You can’t stay here, men. By orders of Captain Huger the field must be
cleared. You’re furnishing the enemy with too large a mark.”
So they all had to leave.
The bombardment, increased by the batteries on the mill side, continued
all day and closed only with darkness. The citadel of Chapultepec
appeared to have been pretty well “shaken.”
“’Tis cruel hard on thim young cadets,” said old Sergeant Mulligan at
supper mess. “I hear tell that some of ’em are mere lads scarce able to
showlder a musket. Now I wonder if they aren’t bein’ sint down to the
city to their mothers, where they belong. I’m hopin’ so. We don’t want
to be after killin’ boys.”
Lieutenant Grant passed along the line of company fires.
“Parade the men for inspection at eight o’clock, sergeant,” he
instructed, “in light marching order, with cartridge boxes filled and
two days’ rations.”
“For the love o’ Hiven, left’nant,” the sergeant pleaded at salute,
“tell me: Do we be takin’ Chapultepec?”
“The First Division has orders to support the Pillow assaulting column
on the west. The Quitman division, supported by the General Smith
brigade of the Second, will assault on the south.”
“Support, ye say, left’nant? But we get into it, don’t we, sorr? They
won’t l’ave out the ould First Division?”
“We haven’t been left out of anything lately, as I notice,” Lieutenant
Grant grimly replied.
The sergeant reseated himself.
“To-morrow, lads,” he said. “We’ve wan or two good fights raymainin’ in
our packs, I guiss. Enough to shame those daysarters wid, I’m thinkin’.
You’ve heard they’ve been put through――a part o’ thim――already?”
“When?”
“Two days since, back at San Angel in the Second Division camp. Sixteen
of ’em hanged, an’ nine dishonorably dismissed by order o’ Gin’ral
Scott, wid a big ‘D’ branded on their cheeks. The rist’ll be attinded
to soon, now. But sure, boys, I’d rather be amongst those who be hanged
than amongst the traitorous livin’, condemned to hear the sound o’
the guns o’ Chapultepec firin’ on brave men bearin’ the flag o’ my
country.”