Mexico declared war against the United States in April, 1846. In the
following May, Congress passed an act authorizing the President to call
into the field fifty thousand volunteers, designed to operate against
Mexico at three distinct points, and consisting of the Southern Wing,
or the Army of Occupation, the Army of the Centre, and the Army of the
West, the latter to direct its march upon the city of Santa Fe. The
original plan was, however, somewhat changed, and General Kearney, who
commanded the Army of the West, divided his forces into three separate
commands. The first he led in person to the Pacific coast. One thousand
volunteers, under command of Colonel A. W. Doniphan, were to make a
descent upon the State of Chihuahua, while the remainder and greater
part of the forces, under Colonel Sterling Price, were to garrison Santa
Fe after its capture.
There is a pretty fiction told of the breaking out of the war between
Mexico and the United States. Early in the spring of 1846, before it was
known or even conjectured that a state of war would be declared to exist
between this government and Mexico, a caravan of twenty-nine traders, on
their way from Independence to Santa Fe, beheld, just after a storm
and a little before sunset, a perfectly distinct image of the Bird of
Liberty, the American eagle, on the disc of the sun. When they saw it
they simultaneously and almost involuntarily exclaimed that in less than
twelve months the Eagle of Liberty would spread his broad plumes over
the plains of the West, and that the flag of our country would wave over
the cities of New Mexico and Chihuahua. The student of the classics
will remember that just before the assassination of Julius Caesar,
both Brutus and Cassius, while in their places in the Roman Senate,
saw chariots of fire in the sky. One story is as true, probably, as the
other, though separated by centuries of time.
The Army of the West, under General Stephen W. Kearney, consisted of two
batteries of artillery, commanded by Major Clark; three squadrons of
the First United States Dragoons, commanded by Major Sumner; the First
Regiment of Missouri Cavalry, commanded by Colonel Doniphan, and two
companies of infantry, commanded by Captain Aubrey. This force marched
in detached columns from Fort Leavenworth, and on the 1st of August,
1846, concentrated in camp on the Santa Fe Trail, nine miles below
Bent's Fort.
Accompanying the expedition was a party of the United States
topographical engineers, under command of Lieutenant W. H. Emory.[25] In
writing of this expedition, so far as its march relates to the Old
Santa Fe Trail, I shall quote freely from Emory's report and Doniphan's
historian.[26]
The practicability of marching a large army over the waste,
uncultivated, uninhabited prairie regions of the West was universally
regarded as problematical, but the expedition proved completely
successful. Provisions were conveyed in wagons, and beef-cattle driven
along for the use of the men. These animals subsisted entirely by
grazing. To secure them from straying off at night, they were driven
into corrals formed of the wagons, or tethered to an iron picket-pin
driven into the ground about fifteen inches. At the outset of the
expedition many laughable scenes took place. Our horses were generally
wild, fiery, and unused to military trappings and equipments. Amidst
the fluttering of banners, the sounding of bugles, the rattling of
artillery, the clattering of sabres and also of cooking utensils, some
of them took fright and scampered pell-mell over the wide prairie.
Rider, arms and accoutrements, saddles, saddle-bags, tin cups, and
coffee-pots, were frequently left far behind in the chase. No very
serious or fatal accident, however, occurred from this cause, and all
was right as soon as the affrighted animals were recovered.
The Army of the West was, perhaps, composed of as fine material as any
other body of troops then in the field. The volunteer corps consisted
almost entirely of young men of the country.
On the 9th of July, a separate detachment of the troops arrived at the
Little Arkansas, where the Santa Fe Trail crosses that stream--now in
McPherson County, Kansas. The mosquitoes, gnats, and black flies swarmed
in that locality and nearly drove the men and animals frantic. While
resting there, a courier came from the commands of General Kearney and
Colonel Doniphan, stating that their men were in a starving condition,
and asking for such provisions as could be spared. Lieutenant-Colonel
Ruff of Doniphan's regiment, in command of the troops now camped on
the Little Arkansas, was almost destitute himself. He had sent couriers
forward to Pawnee Fork to stop a train of provisions at that point and
have it wait there until he came up with his force, and he now directed
the courier from Kearney to proceed to the same place and halt as many
wagons loaded with supplies, as would suffice to furnish the three
detachments with rations. One of the couriers, in attempting to ford the
fork of the Pawnee, which was bank-full, was drowned. His body was
found and given a military funeral; he was the first man lost on the
expedition after it had reached the great plains, one having been
drowned in the Missouri, at Fort Leavenworth, before the troops left.
The author of _Doniphan's Expedition_ says:
In approaching the Arkansas, a landscape of the most
imposing and picturesque nature makes its appearance.
While the green, glossy undulations of the prairie to
the right seem to spread out in infinite succession,
like waves subsiding after a storm, and covered with
herds of gambolling buffalo, on the left, towering to
the height of seventy-five to a hundred feet, rise the
sun-gilt summits of the sand hills, along the base of
which winds the broad, majestic river, bespeckled with
verdant islets, thickly beset with cottonwood timber,
the sand hills resembling heaps of driven snow.
I refer to this statement to show how wonderfully the settlement of the
region has changed the physical aspect of that portion bordering the
Arkansas River. Now those sand hills are covered with verdure, and this
metamorphosis has taken place within the last thirty years; for the
author of this work well remembers how the great sand dunes used to
shine in the sunlight, when he first saw them a third of a century ago.
In coming from Fort Leavenworth up the Smoky Hill route to the Santa Fe
Trail, where the former joined the latter at Pawnee Rock, the contour of
the Arkansas could be easily traced by the white sand hills referred to,
long before it was reached.
On the 15th of July the combined forces formed a junction at Pawnee
Fork, now within the city limits of Larned, Kansas. The river was
impassable, but General Kearney, with the characteristic energy of his
family, determined not to be delayed, and to that end caused great trees
to be cut down and their trunks thrown across the stream, over which the
army passed, carrying in their arms the sick, the baggage, tents, and
other paraphernalia; the animals being forced to swim. The empty bodies
of the wagons, fastened to their running gear, were floated across by
means of ropes, and hauled up the slippery bank by the troops. This
required two whole days; and on the morning of the 17th, not an accident
having occurred, the entire column was en route again, the infantry, as
is declared in the official reports, keeping pace with the cavalry right
along. Their feet, however, became terribly blistered, and, like the
Continentals at Valley Forge, their tracks were marked with blood.
In a day or two after the command had left Pawnee Fork, while camping in
a beautiful spot on the bank of the Arkansas, an officer, Major Howard,
who had been sent forward to Santa Fe some time previously by the
general to learn something of the feeling of the people in relation to
submitting to the government of the United States, returned and reported
that the common people, or plebeians, were inclined to
favour the conditions of peace proposed by General Kearney;
viz. that if they would lay down their arms and take the
oath of allegiance to the government of the United States,
they should, to all intents and purposes, become citizens
of the same republic, receiving the protection and enjoying
the liberties guaranteed to other American citizens; but
that the patricians who held the offices and ruled the
country were hostile, and were making warlike preparations.
He added, further, that two thousand three hundred men
were already armed for the defence of the capital, and
that others were assembling at Taos.
This intelligence created quite a sensation in camp, and it was
believed, and earnestly hoped, that the entrance of the troops into
Santa Fe would be desperately opposed; such is the pugnacious character
of the average American the moment he dons the uniform of a soldier.
The army arrived at the Cimarron crossing of the Arkansas on the 20th,
and during the march of nearly thirty miles from their last camp, a herd
of about four hundred buffalo suddenly emerged from the Arkansas, and
broke through the long column. In an instant the troops charged upon the
surprised animals with guns, pistols, and even drawn sabres, and many
of the huge beasts were slaughtered as they went dashing and thundering
among the excited troopers and infantrymen.
On the 29th an express from Bent's Fort brought news to General Kearney
from Santa Fe that Governor Armijo had called the chief men together
to deliberate on the best means of defending the city; that hostile
preparations were rapidly going on in all parts of New Mexico; and that
the American advance would be vigorously opposed. Some Mexican prisoners
were taken near Bent's Fort, with blank letters on their persons
addressed to the general; it was supposed this piece of ingenuity was
resorted to to deceive the American residents at the fort. These men
were thought to be spies sent out from Santa Fe to get an idea of the
strength of the army; so they were shown everything in and around camp,
and then allowed to depart in peace for Santa Fe, to report what they
had seen.
On the same date, the Army of the West crossed the Arkansas and camped
on Mexican soil about eight miles below Bent's Fort, and now the utmost
vigilance was exercised; for the troops had not only to keep a sharp
lookout for the Mexicans, but for the wily Comanches, in whose country
their camp was located. Strong picket and camp guards were posted,
and the animals turned loose to graze, guarded by a large force.
Notwithstanding the care taken to confine them within certain limits,
a pack of wolves rushed through the herd, and in an instant it was
stampeded, and there ensued a scene of the wildest confusion. More than
a thousand horses were dashing madly over the prairie, their rage and
fright increased at every jump by the lariats and picket-pins which they
had pulled up, and which lashed them like so many whips. After desperate
exertions by the troops, the majority were recovered from thirty to
fifty miles distant; nearly a hundred, however, were absolutely lost and
never seen again.
At this camp the troops were visited by the war chief of the Arapahoes,
who manifested great surprise at the big guns, and declared that the
Mexicans would not stand a moment before such terrible instruments of
death, but would escape to the mountains with the utmost despatch.
On the 1st of August a new camp near Bent's Fort was established, from
whence twenty men under Lieutenant de Courcy, with orders to proceed
through the mountains to the valley of Taos, to learn something of the
disposition and intentions of the people, and to rejoin General
Kearney on the road to Santa Fe. Lieutenant de Courcy, in his official
itinerary, relates the following anecdote:
We took three pack-mules laden with provisions, and as
we did not expect to be long absent, the men took no extra
clothing. Three days after we left the column our mules
fell down, and neither gentle means nor the points of our
sabres had the least effect in inducing them to rise.
Their term of service with Uncle Sam was out. "What's to
be done?" said the sergeant. "Dismount!" said I.
"Off with your shirts and drawers, men! tie up the sleeves
and legs, and each man bag one-twentieth part of the flour!"
Having done this, the bacon was distributed to the men also,
and tied to the cruppers of their saddles. Thus loaded,
we pushed on, without the slightest fear of our provision
train being cut off.
The march upon Santa Fe was resumed on the 2d of August.
As we passed Bent's Fort the American flag was raised,
in compliment to our troops, and, like our own, streamed
most animatingly in the gale that swept from the desert,
while the tops of the houses were crowded with Mexican girls
and Indian squaws, intently beholding the American army.
On the 15th of the month, the army neared Las Vegas; when two spies
who had been sent on in advance to see how matters stood returned and
reported that two thousand Mexicans were camped at the pass a few miles
beyond the village, where they intended to offer battle.
Upon receipt of this news, the general immediately formed a line of
battle. The United States dragoons with the St. Louis mounted volunteers
were stationed in front, Major Clark with the battalion of volunteer
light artillery in the centre, and Colonel Doniphan's regiment in the
rear. The companies of volunteer infantry were deployed on each side
of the line of march as flankers. The supply trains were next in order,
with Captain Walton's mounted company as rear guard. There was also
a strong advance guard. The cartridges were hastily distributed; the
cannon swabbed and rigged; the port-fires burning, and every rifle
loaded.
In passing through the streets of the curious-looking village of Las
Vegas, the army was halted, and from the roof of a large house General
Kearney administered to the chief officers of the place the oath of
allegiance to the United States, using the sacred cross instead of the
Bible. This act completed, on marched the exultant troops toward the
canyon where it had been promised them that they should meet the enemy.
On the night of the 16th, while encamped on the Pecos River, near the
village of San Jose, the pickets captured a son of the Mexican General
Salezar, who was acting the role of a spy, and two other soldiers of the
Mexican army. Salezar was kept a close prisoner; but the two privates
were by order of General Kearney escorted through the camp and shown the
cannon, after which they were allowed to depart, so that they might tell
what they had seen. It was learned afterward that they represented the
American army as composed of five thousand troops, and possessing so
many cannons that they were not able to count them.
When Armijo was certain that the Army of the West was really approaching
Santa Fe, he assembled seven thousand troops, part of them well armed,
and the remainder indifferently so. The Mexican general had written a
note to General Kearney the day before the capture of the spies, saying
that he would meet him on the following day.
General Kearney, at this, hastened on, arriving at the mouth of the
Apache canyon at noon, with his whole force ready and anxious to try the
mettle of the Mexicans in battle. Emory in his _Reconnoissance_ says:
The sun shone with dazzling brightness; the guidons and
colours of each squadron, regiment, and battalion were
for the first time unfurled. The drooping horses seemed
to take courage from the gay array. The trumpeters
sounded "to horse" with spirit, and the hills multiplied
and re-echoed the call. All wore the aspect of a gala day.
About the middle of the day's march the two Pueblo Indians,
previously sent to sound the chief men of that formidable
tribe, were seen in the distance, at full speed, with arms
and legs both thumping the sides of their mules at every
stride. Something was now surely in the wind. The smaller
and foremost of the two dashed up to the general, his face
radiant with joy, and exclaimed:
"They are in the canyon, my brave; pluck up your courage
and push them out." As soon as his extravagant delight at
the prospect of a fight, and the pleasure of communicating
the news, had subsided, he gave a pretty accurate idea
of Armijo's force and position.
Shortly afterwards a rumour reached the camp that the
two thousand Mexicans assembled in the canyon to oppose us,
have quarrelled among themselves; and that Armijo, taking
advantage of the dissensions, has fled with his dragoons
and artillery to the south. It is well known that he has
been averse to a battle, but some of his people threatened
his life if he refused to fight. He had been, for some
days, more in fear of his own people than of the American
army, having seen what they are blind to--the hopelessness
of resistance.
As we approached the ancient town of Pecos, a large fat
fellow, mounted on a mule, came toward us at full speed,
and, extending his hand to the general, congratulated him
on the arrival of himself and army. He said with a roar
of laughter, "Armijo and his troops have gone to h---ll,
and the canyon is all clear."
On reaching the canyon, it was found to be true that the Mexican troops
had dispersed and fled to the mountains, just as the old Arapahoe chief
had said they would. There, however, they commenced to fortify, by
chopping away the timber so that their artillery could play to better
advantage upon the American lines, and by throwing up temporary
breastworks. It was ascertained afterward, on undoubted authority, that
Armijo had an army of nearly seven thousand Mexicans, with six pieces of
artillery, and the advantage of ground, yet he allowed General Kearney,
with a force of less than two thousand, to march through the almost
impregnable gorge, and on to the capital of the Province, without any
attempt to oppose him.
Thus was New Mexico conquered with but little loss relatively. For the
further details of the movements of the Army of the West, the reader is
referred to general history, as this book, necessarily, treats only
of that portion of its march and the incidents connected with it while
travelling the Santa Fe Trail.