Army marches from Corpus Christi--Taylor prepares the Mexicans for his
advance--Description of the march--Beautiful prairie and desolate
sand wilderness--Rattlesnakes--Chapparal--The Arroyo Colorado--First
hostile demonstrations of the Mexicans--Expected fight--Cross the
Colorado--Worth and Taylor separate--True nature of discipline--
Characters of Mexican and American soldiers contrasted.
On the 8th of March, 1846, the joyous news ran through the American
camp, at Corpus Christi, that the tents were at last to be struck. The
worn out soldiery had nothing to regret in quitting a spot where their
eyes were only relieved by looking from the dreary sea in front to the
desolate prairie in the rear. General Taylor had already taken means to
prepare the Mexicans for his advance, although he scarcely expected
resistance. Respectable citizens from Matamoros had frequently visited
his camp; and to all of those who were represented as possessing
influence at home he proclaimed the unhostile feelings of our government
towards their country, and that when our army marched southward it would
not pass the Rio Grande unless Mexico provoked war. He invariably
apprized these strangers of his resolution to protect the peaceful
inhabitants in all their rights and usages, as well as to pay for every
thing needed by his forces instead of plundering the country for
support.
Accordingly, on the morning of the 8th of the month, the advanced guard,
composed of the cavalry and Major Ringgold's light artillery,--the
whole under the command of Colonel Twiggs, and numbering twenty-three
officers and three hundred and eighty-seven men,--took up its line of
march towards Matamoros. This corps was succeeded by the brigades of
infantry, the last of which departed on the 11th followed immediately by
the commander in chief with his staff. The weather was favorable; the
roads in tolerable order; the troops in good condition notwithstanding
the winter's hardships; while a general spirit of animation pervaded the
whole body, inspired as it was with the hope of adventure in the
neighborhood of an enemy. All, therefore, departed on this day from
Corpus Christi by land, except the command of Major Monroe, who was to
reach the Brazos de Santiago in transports under convoy of the United
States brig Porpoise and the Woodbury. This officer was to embark with a
siege train and field battery, in season to reach his destination when
the army would be in the vicinity of Point Isabel.
The last adieus of our forces to their dreary winter quarter were by no
means tearful, as with colors flying and music playing, they crossed the
sandy hills that concealed it forever from their sight. The first day's
march passed through alternate patches of prairies and timber to the
Nueces; but, on the two next, these sad wastes were exchanged for
splendid fields blossoming with flowers of every hue. A delicious
fragrance filled the air, and the whole surface of the earth as far as
the eye could reach, seemed covered with a beautiful carpet. The edge of
the horizon, in every direction, was crowded with wild animals. On one
side thousands of mustangs curvetted over the gentle elevations of the
rolling prairie; on another herds of deer might be seen standing for a
moment filled with wonder at the unwonted sight of human beings, and
then bounding off until they were lost in the vast distance. Beautiful
antelopes, nimble as the wind, were beheld in countless numbers, while
pecarys and wild bulls rushed in droves across the path of our men. But,
on the fourth day of the march, this scene of enchantment suddenly
vanished. Uncultivated prairies and immense herds of savage beasts had
already testified the abandoned state of the country; yet the region our
forces now entered disclosed the frightful "nakedness of the land." The
water became exceedingly bad, and there was scarcely fuel enough for
culinary purposes. The blooming vegetation of the preceding days was
exchanged for sands through which the weary men and cattle toiled with
extreme difficulty. Salt lagunes spread out on every side. At each step
the fatigued soldier plunged ankle-deep in the yielding soil, while a
scorching sun shone over him and not a breath of air relieved his
sufferings. At times, a verdant forest loomed up along the heated
horizon, fringed by limpid lakes, and our wearied columns moved on
gaily, cheated, again and again, by the hope of shade and water.
Suddenly the beautiful groves dwindled into jagged clumps of thorns or
aloes, and the fairy lakes changed to salt and turbid lagunes. "The
wormwood star had fallen on every thing and turned the waters to
bitterness." The plant whose piercing spines and sword-like leaves have
entitled it to the name of the "Spanish bayonet," was the hermit shrub
of this dreadful Zaharah. Around its roots the snakes lurked and
crawled. Whenever the soldiers' path was unimpeded by these annoyances,
scarifying his limbs as he advanced, the ground seemed heated and
sinking like the _scoriae_ of Vesuvius. Man and beast sank exhausted
and panting on the earth. The want and value of delicious water are
never known till we pass a day like this under the burning rays of a
tropical sun, toiling on foot over a scorched and arid soil without
refreshment! At length the word ran along the line that it was
approaching a lake whose waters were not salt. "Under the excitement of
hope the faint and exhausted infantry pressed onward with renewed life,
while, some miles ahead, the artillery were seen to halt enjoying the
luxury of _water_. As the soldiers reached it all discipline was
forgotten; their arms were thrown down, and they rushed boldly in,
thrusting their heads beneath the waves in their desire to quench the
thirst that was consuming their vitals."[98]
Such is the natural aspect and character of the desolate region between
the Nueces and the Rio Grande,--a chequered wilderness of sand and
verdure,--fit only for the wild beasts that inhabit it, and properly
described in former days, as a suitable frontier between the great
republics of North America.
* * * * *
On the 21st of March, all our forces concentrated on the Arroyo
Colorado,--a salt stream or lagune nearly one hundred yards broad, and
so deep as to be scarcely fordable,--situated about thirty miles north
of Matamoros. Had the enemy attacked us here his assault would have been
formidable, wearied as were our troops with the distressing marches of
previous days. Bold, bluff banks, twenty or thirty feet high, hem in the
stream, whose borders, on both sides, are lined, for a considerable
breadth, with impervious thickets of _chapparal_. These thorny groves
are to be found in all sections of the south, varying in size from a few
yards to a mile in thickness, so closely interlaced and matted with
briers and bushes as to prevent the passage of animals larger than a
hare. They are the sorest annoyances of travellers in Mexico, and often
force the wayfarer to make a long circuit to pass their limits, though
they reward him for his trouble by supplying an abundance of the
_tuna_--a luscious fruit of the prickly pear,--which grows luxuriantly
on these natural and impenetrable walls.
Such, with the barrier of the stream, was the fortification nature had
interposed for the safe guard of Mexico at the Arroyo Colorado. But the
inert natives seemed indisposed to take advantage of those rare
defences, though not without some hostile demonstration which the
resolute conduct of Taylor soon overcame.
When our advanced corps encamped near the banks of the stream on the
19th, an armed _reconnoisance_ was sent forward to examine the country.
On reaching the river, our scouts discovered that the opposite side was
lined with a body of _ranchero_ cavalry, from whom they learned,
although no opposition was made to our examination of the ford, that we
should be treated as enemies if we attempted to pass it. Impossible as
it was to ascertain accurately the amount of the opposing force, our men
were prepared for the worst, and, at an early hour of the 20th, the
cavalry and first brigade of infantry were thrown in position, at the
ford, while the batteries of field artillery were formed so as to sweep
the opposite bank. All was now anxiety and eagerness among our gallant
men. Far along the borders of the river, above and below, the bugles of
the enemy were heard ringing out in the clear morning air. But the hope
of frightening our men by overwhelming numbers was of no avail. Our
pioneers worked steadily on the road they were cutting to the brink of
the river; and, when all was ready for the passage, the adjutant general
of the Mexican forces appeared on the ground for a final effort of
intimidation. With Spanish courtesy, he informed our general that
positive orders were given to his men to fire upon our forces if they
attempted to cross, and that our passage of the river would be
considered a declaration of war. At the same time he placed in Taylor's
hands a warlike proclamation issued by Mejia at Matamoros on the 18th,
containing unequivocal manifestations of the intention of the Mexicans
to molest us.
Our commander-in-chief, however, was not to be deterred by these threats
from the fulfilment of the orders he had received to pass the Rio
Grande. He answered the officer that he would "_immediately_ cross the
river, and that if his hostile party showed itself on the other bank
after our passage was commenced, it would unquestionably receive the
fire of our artillery." In the meantime the second brigade, which had
encamped some miles in our rear, came up and formed on the extreme
right; and, as the road to the river bank was by this time completed,
the order to advance was given.
It was a moment of intense excitement. What forces might not lurk behind
the dense walls of _chapparal_, ready to dash upon our ranks as they
deployed on the other side? Our artillerists stood to their aimed and
loaded guns. The Mexicans were doubtless eager and panting for
resistance in the rear of the bristling plants that lined the lofty
parapet of the river's bank. Every eye was strained upon the first
daring rank that was to plunge into the stream as a "forlorn hope."
Mexico would fight now if ever; for her mettle was as yet untried! For
an instant, profound silence reigned along the anxious line which the
next moment might be involved in the fire of battle. Suddenly the
gallant Worth spurred to the head of our troops, and dashing boldly into
the flood, waved them on to the further shore. But not a shot was fired
by the recreant foe, and as our men rose shouting from the water and
rushed up the steeps of the opposite bank they beheld the valiant
Mexicans in brisk retreat towards Matamoros! The fugitives were
unmolested;--a laugh of scorn and pity ran through our ranks;--and,
before nightfall, the first and second brigades of infantry, with a
train of two hundred wagons had crossed the stream and encamped three
miles from its banks.
This was an important affair, as it was the first in which the Mexicans
showed themselves in a decidedly hostile attitude; and it furnished an
excellent opportunity to try the mettle of our men both in spirit and
discipline. Not a soldier faltered.
* * * * *
On the morning of the 23d of March, General Taylor departed with his
whole army from the camp near the Colorado. After a march of fifteen
miles he reached, on the 24th, a position on the route from Matamoros to
Point Isabel,--distant about eighteen miles from the former and ten from
the latter,--where he left the infantry brigades under the command of
General Worth, with instructions to press on in the direction of
Matamoros until a suitable position for encampment was obtained, at
which he might halt, holding the route in observation, whilst the
commander-in-chief proceeded with the cavalry to Point Isabel. At that
post General Taylor expected to meet the transports from Corpus Christi
with the force under Major Monroe, and to make the necessary
arrangements for the establishment and defence of a depot.
As soon as the army left the Colorado a new object, of more interest in
natural history than military memoirs, presented itself to the notice of
our troops. The soil was covered with a long wiry grass among which
glided immense numbers of huge rattlesnakes, more appalling to our
soldiers than the Mexicans. The country literally swarmed with serpents.
From the Colorado to within a few miles of Point Isabel their warning
rattle was heard on all sides. They crept between the ranks as our men
marched through the long herbage, and at night coiled themselves
comfortably under their blankets for warmth.
* * * * *
Familiar as we are with the campaigns of Frederick and Napoleon, and
willing to record as classical the great deeds of the old world's
heroes, we are still often loath to do justice to the brave men in our
own country who have served the State so zealously in Florida and
Mexico. It is not simple bravery in battle that commends a soldier to
admiration, for few are cowards when the excitement of action hurries
them headlong among their foes amid the shouts and thunder of actual
carnage. But it is the preparatory discipline that tests a military
character. The camp and the march are the soldier's training. The dreary
winter-quarter passed in patient service, and the wearying advance over
burning plains or snowy mountains, are the real touchstones of courage,
and prove those powers of _endurance and subordination_ which make
resistance staunch and stubborn. These are the sources of discipline;
and it was with troops that had borne the winter hardships at Corpus
Christi, I have described, and made the short but arduous march to Point
Isabel, that Taylor felt sure of victory. They had encountered
extraordinary fatigue, and yet were ready at a moment's notice for
battle without flinching. With such schooling an army becomes a gigantic
instrument moving with the accuracy of clock-work, put in motion by the
general's genius. It can endure as well as perform all he requires, and
he knows that the result of a battle depends alone on his numbers, his
position, or his individual skill in military combination. The common
soldier and the officer thus react upon each other, and the electric
chain of mutual _confidence_ makes success an impulse.
The American and the Mexican soldier are essentially different, though
both, according to the report of distinguished officers, are almost
equally brave. In the anglo-saxon race bravery is the balance between
prudence and courage, exercised with an indomitable resolution to
achieve a desired end. The American soldier is fearless, yet he values
life and seeks to protect it. His object is to subdue or slay his foe,
still he determines to avoid, if possible, a fatal catastrophe. This
renders him intrepid while it teaches the importance of discipline and
obedience to resolute and skilful officers. He perceives at once the
object to be secured or the thing to be done, and he marches on with the
mingled caution and spirit requisite for success.
It may be said that a certain degree of timidity is necessary in every
balanced character in order to ensure reflection, for natural courage,
unaided by sensitiveness, would render it rash. But the Mexican soldier
seems to be guided by a different system, and to be brave without either
prudence or enduring discipline. He is trained in manoeuvres; and,
believing that when he masters his manual he is equal to all military
emergencies, he supposes that a battle is little more than a parade. As
Mexican troops are rather political engines, designed for the domestic
police of cities, than for actual service in the field, the soldier is
more of a plaything than a tool or weapon. Vague, ideal notions of Roman
patriotism, are infused into his mind by the demagogues of the army in
bombastic proclamations, and he imagines it better to perish than
surrender to his foe. But this murderous doctrine of "revenge or death"
serves rather to animate him _before_ battle than to carry him steadily
through its perils. He has the ability to perceive the beauty of
abstract virtue, but lacks the sustained energy, the profound
endurance, to realize it. He rushes onward without deliberation, or
regard of consequences. An international war is, in his estimation, a
personal not a political quarrel. A brutal ferocity marks every headlong
movement, and deprives him of the control of reason. Besides this,
_life_, has not the same value to a Mexican as to an American warrior,
for the objects and hopes of their lives are incapable of comparison.
One lives for practical liberty and progress, the other's existence is a
mere strife for bread under military despotism. A Mahomedan
fatalism--derived, perhaps, from his Moorish kindred--tinges the nature
of a Mexican, and the impulsive blood of a tropical climate subjects him
almost exclusively to his instincts. Hence Spanish wars have been long
and sanguinary butcheries, while their civil dissensions are the feted
ferment of corruption.
The Mexican, hot and fretful in controversy, is ever quick and sometimes
secret, in ridding himself of his foe;--the American is equally prompt
with his pistol, but gives his insulting enemy an equal chance. A sudden
conflict with knives ends a Spanish rencontre or dispute; while periods
of deliberation and cool arrangements precede the fatal field between
our countrymen. The American officer is scientifically educated in
military schools and _leads_ his men to battle. The Mexican is ignorant
of all but ordinary drills, and either _follows_ his impulsive
squadrons, or, flies at the approach of personal danger. The one has
nerve and endurance, the other impulse and passion; hence, while the
Mexican strikes his blow and retreats to his lair if foiled, the
American, equally unchanged by victory or defeat, moves onward with
indomitable purpose until his object is successfully accomplished. The
one dwindles too often into the cruel assassin or relentless
persecutor,--the other, as frequently, attains the dignity of a clement
hero.
These general observations apply, of course, only to the masses, for
truly brave and patriotic men exist in all countries, and nowhere are
the examples of heroic qualities more conspicuous than among the Spanish
races. The fault lies more in temperament than in soul. An equipoise
between intellect and passion is alone deficient in the nature of the
Mexican people, for the savage has not been entirely extirpated from the
mingled blood of Indian and Spaniard.
When the remarkable energy of men, born in genial climates, is tempered
by self restraint, it produces that urbane and chivalrous character
which once made war the school of gentlemen. But the modern ideas of
liberty and patriotism have deprived standing armies of all exclusive
claim to national protection; and, as long as each citizen feels that
the defence of his native land or of his country's rights depends upon
himself, the volunteer as well as the regular will be prompt to
discharge his military duty with skill, alacrity and irresistible
resolution.
FOOTNOTES:
[98] Army on the Rio Grande, p. 13.