five hours before we landed. The river is so crooked that there are
landings on different sides of the city. We registered our names at the
Exchange Hotel. This is a two story brick building with a flat roof,
and an open court in the centre. It was formerly the Mexican custom
house. Our sleeping room was the one through which two cannon balls had
passed, during the bombardment from Fort Brown. The next morning we
rose early and visited the market. The building is about twenty-five
feet high, supported by columns and arches. The whole interior is
divided into stalls, where can be bought meats of all kinds. The
outside is reserved for vegetables and varieties, sold from mats spread
upon the ground, by women with half-clothed figures, and disheveled
hair, presenting an appearance uncouth and repulsive. Bread, milk, pies
and hot coffee are sold in large quantities.
I was surprised to find so many Mexicans still residing in the city.
And was still more surprised to find the alcalde and police officers
performing their respective duties, and all the municipal laws enforced
as formerly. The alcalde, however, receives instruction from Colonel
Clark.
The dress most common for the women I have already described; I will,
however, mention that they never wear bonnets, but throw a scarf
ingeniously over the head and shoulders. The young men dress with
much taste and neatness, and most of them possess fine figures. They
generally appear in white, and instead of suspenders they wear around
the waist sashes of various colors. The bottoms of their pants are of
enormous width. Some, more showy than the rest, wear blue over the
white, with the outer seam left open to the hips, and buttons down
the side. The hat, which is made of straw or wool, and often covered
with oil-cloth, has its peculiarities. On each side and about three
inches from the top, are fixed little silver knobs in oval plates.
The bands are often made of gold or silver. My thoughts and feelings
while passing through the streets, were in keeping with the novelty of
my situation. Suddenly thrown into a foreign city, where everything
presented an appearance so dissimilar to anything I had ever seen, I
was constantly surprised into expressions of wonder and curiosity. The
side walks are so narrow but two persons can walk abreast. The houses
on the principal streets are built generally of brick, with flat roofs,
brick floors in the first story, and open court yards in the centre.
Those in the less frequented parts of the city, are made of slabs and
stakes driven into the ground, the intervals filled with mud and straw,
and thatched with palmito.
One of the most distinguishing characteristics of this people is their
insatiate thirst for gaming. It amounts almost to monomania. Play
seems to be the sole occupation of a large portion in this place.
Crowds of both sexes may be seen at almost any time in the streets,
and on the banks of the river, betting on their universally favorite
game “monte.” The hotels, restaurants and coffee-houses are infested
with gamblers from all nations. Those boarding at the Exchange follow
their respective games, with all the dignity that characterizes
the professor of law or medicine. Many of them are very showy in
their appearance, courteous in their manner, and agreeable in their
intercourse. To the volunteers, they are attentive and obliging, always
ready to give them any information or advice, and ever ready to rid
them of any extra dimes they may wish to hazard upon their games. It
would doubtless surprise any of our good merchants at home, to witness
the unceremonious rancheros entering their stores, leading in their
favorite mustangs after them,--a general practice here. But it is time
I should close this prosy description. It would be an endless task,
should I attempt to relate all I saw and heard in the church, in the
hospitals, and especially the never-to-be-forgotten incidents on the
lower plaza, and at the fandango.
Just before we unexpectedly embarked for the camp, our attention
was attracted by music, and a crowd, following a company of rope
dancers. We were informed that they came in every Sunday afternoon,
and performed at three o’clock. The party consisted of three men and
one woman on horseback. They were gaudily dressed, very much after
the manner of our circus riders, but, if possible, more grotesque
and showy. The music consisted of a clarinet, a drum and a kind of
ophicleide painted green and red. The pompous cavalcade, supported by
the motley crew of men, women and children, making every gesticulation
of delight, presented truly a rich and ludicrous scene. About this
time the steamer Corvette rounded to with a load of sick volunteers
from Camargo, for the general hospital, and as we expected to leave
immediately, we hastened on board.
I never in my life regretted so much to leave any place after so short
an acquaintance. I was just becoming familiar with the city, and the
next night promised much. That by the way. I went on board without a
murmur, and was soon on my way to the camp.
_20th._--This day has opened upon me fraught with new cares and
responsibilities. This is my twenty-first birth-day. My country can
now fairly claim my influence in sustaining her laws, and supporting
her institutions. When an American youth enters upon the stage of
political life, he should endeavor fully to comprehend the genius
of its government, and the high and glorious privileges it imparts.
His freedom of thought and right of suffrage place him far above, in
point of privilege, any other people, and secure to him blessings not
enjoyed by any other nation under heaven. In view of the inestimable
rights he enjoys, how great are his obligations! How carefully should
he endeavor to avoid party influences; and remain firm in noble
principles, in spite of the deluding sophistry of heartless demagogues.
As he approaches the ballot-box, that sacred guarantee of liberty
when unabused, let him pause and reflect whether he is acting from
impulse or the dictates of reason. I am now twenty-one! We all look
forward with interest to the period! We expect, and we anticipate,
and how often, during the flow of buoyant thought, we map out the way
to future greatness. My feelings are so fluctuating, my anticipations
so frequently unrealized, that no result can be very unexpected. From
this candid and free expression of my feelings, I do not wish to convey
the idea that I am disposed to find fault with the world, or with
the organization of society, but only to indicate more clearly the
constitution of my mind with native sources of unhappiness.
In looking back over a few years in which I have mingled some in
society, I cannot say I have derived no pleasures from the past, that
I have seen no bright spots, or enjoyed no valued objects. It would be
base ingratitude were I to disclaim participation in some delightful
scenes where sympathy and affection warmed kindred hearts. Was this
more than balanced by painful reaction?
The frequent brooding upon saddening subjects, pride, and, I may add,
a sprinkling of patriotism, will, to some extent, account for this day
finding me a soldier upon the borders of Mexico. It is time I should
leave this subject. I drop it at once to recount some of the events of
the day.
Yesterday we were visited by a strong north-wester, so common to the
season in this latitude. It blew so hard that the water from the Gulf
was driven up into the sloughs, causing a swelling from the little salt
lakes of which I have before spoken; but to-day we have a clear sky and
a calm breeze. After breakfast this morning, I went to the sutlers,
and bought a large box of sardines and some claret, as a little treat
for the mess. Our captain and lieutenants were invited to partake, and
toasting my birth-day, they all wished me success. I spent the night
until tattoo, in writing these random reflections, and in thinking what
a contrast the associations of to-day will present, when compared with
three preceding anniversaries of my birth-day.
_October 5th._--For the last two weeks nothing has transpired worthy
of note. The time drags heavily when waiting for orders.--Col. Lane’s
regiment has moved up to Palo Alto, seven miles from Matamoros. General
Lane still drills our regiment, as our colonels are both sick, and one
gone home. Yesterday I wrote a letter, and will copy it in part.
“* * * * * It is Sunday evening, and just about the time you are
returning from church in the afternoon. I fancy I can see the friends
convened in your front room. I often think of your parlor. At this time
what a different scene our camp presents from that of the drawing-room!
Instead of handling gloves, fans, or parasols, our boys are engaged
in brightening their arms and equipments, to surprise the regiment
this evening on dress parade. I am sitting in tent No. 1, and writing
this epistle upon a box that some of the boys have picked up at the
commissary’s. While speaking of the mess I will pronounce a short
eulogium. It is the only one, with perhaps one exception, that has
undergone no changes since we left home. We have had no difficulties,
but have lived together in uninterrupted harmony. We now number six,
one of our mess having been discharged. What a place this for the
study of human nature! Points of character that at home lie concealed
from every one, are here developing every day, and consequently much
change of opinion in relation to character. Even one’s own self changes
views respecting one’s self, in regard to the natural disposition,
motives, and impulses of action. The more I see of a soldier’s life,
the stronger is my conviction that there are worse evils to be feared
than those of the battle field. A retrograde in morals or a total loss
of moral principle, is incalculably worse. Take young men, who, from
their position in society at home, are excluded from the haunts of
strong temptations and the greater vices, and for the most part you
will find them moral from habit, rather than fixed principles, and a
clear discrimination between right and wrong. O! how many such will be
wrecked and ruined in this campaign!
“I am daily realizing the force of that old adage, ‘we know not what
we can do until we try.’ If any one had told me only a few months
ago, that I could with impunity, sleep upon the ground in the open
air, and rise at reveille in the morning, and drill two hours before
breakfast, I should certainly have been at a loss to know of what
kind of materials he thought I was made. Yet these I do almost every
day, and so accustomed am I to a soldier’s couch, I seldom think of a
softer bed. Then, there is poetry in reposing under the direct gaze of
the moon and stars, which, like guardian angels, superintend, while
the watchful sentinel guards around. _Apropos_: we do have some of
the finest nights you ever witnessed. The moonlight is so clear and
bright, we easily see to read by it. And then what a range for the
imagination. How plainly do happy meetings, delightful visions of love
and sympathy, rise before us. Under such pleasing emotions we sink into
the most refreshing slumbers, which are only disturbed by the _musical
mosquitoes_ or _industrious ants_. I close this epistle. The drum calls
to parade.”
_31st._--The only apology I offer for such a distance between dates,
is the absence of anything worthy of relation. I have occupied a part
of the interim in writing letters, and as they contain the little of
incident transpiring, I will copy another in part.
“As a good opportunity presents itself to send you a few lines, I will
avail myself of it, although it is very disagreeable to write with a
strong northerly sweeping over, blowing sand and dirt in the eyes, and
covering the paper. I received your last letter, and I assure you it
gave me great pleasure to hear you were well, and partially resigned
to our separation. I waited for it so long, I had become used to
disappointment, and thought myself partially hardened and indifferent,
but it has awakened anew all my anxieties. How lonely and melancholy
it makes me feel to see others around reading epistles from their
friends, while I am apparently forgotten and uncared for. Indeed, these
reflections are sources of much unhappiness. Do not think from these
expressions, that our condition is worse than previously. It is greatly
improved since the many unfavorable accounts you have heard from us.
There is not now one among us confined to his tent, and everything
goes on as well as a soldier could expect. My brothers can form no
idea of the encouragement and gratification they afforded me by their
assurances of interest and regard. I can conceive of no incentive to
action greater than to gain their affection and approbation. Assure
them of my kind remembrances. I feel this separation will only tend to
bind us closer together, if we are ever permitted to meet again.
“As the armistice has not yet expired, I cannot with certainty inform
you of our future movements. If the war continues, we expect to move
towards Tampico, where we expect active service, a glorious end or a
wreath of laurels. General Patterson deems it no mark of disrespect to
the Indiana troops, that they have not been pushed forward, nor will it
affect our reputation. Our hospital has recently been greatly enlarged
and improved. Our stock of medicines is very low, but fortunately the
camp was never in a healthier condition. Cease your care for me and
bestow your sympathy upon a needier object. The sick soldier with a
hard bed and burning fever, has a stronger claim upon you. Forget him
not.
“I commenced this letter intending to send it immediately, but shall
not be able to do so for a week or two.”
_10th._--I transcribe here a fragment of a letter to my sister
“----. I do think you have used me shamefully, by not noticing one
of my letters, and I have a great mind to fill this whole sheet with
scoldings. I left home as you know, with but few associates. I have no
friends of my own age with you, that I have any claims upon, or from
whom I have a right to expect any favors. But from you I expected much,
or at least I felt assured you would not forget me. How much I have
been disappointed, you yourself can judge. Your inattention becomes
more unpardonable, when I think of the many subjects of interest you
have to write about. If you would just give a list of the friends
who have called upon you, within the last week, or fill a page with
the innocent sayings of the little ones, it would be hailed by me as
a God-send in this dreary place. I am beginning to feel quite like
an old soldier, and ‘forward, march, guide left,’ and other phrases
of the drill are becoming as familiar as if I had spent years in the
service. We have had quite an excitement in relation to moving, for the
last two weeks. General Lane has received orders to hold this regiment
ready to march at an hour’s notice. Ever since he has drilled it twice
a day. The Tampico fever and rage for Monterey have abated, but still
the general keeps up his two drills a day. The paymaster was here last
week, and paid off all save three companies,--ours one of them. The
money gave out. The health of the company is better than ever, and we
do have some of the greatest jollifications you ever heard of. We get
a couple of violins, and do up dancing to their music _à la Mexicana_.
You would deem it a rich treat to hear the promptings, and attempts at
Spanish, which some of the boys have picked up in the neighborhood,
at the various fandangos. We sometimes have half the regiment about
our quarters. The captain’s marque, like his shop door at home, is the
emporium of anecdote and humor.
“_15th._--Lieutenant Cayce has just arrived from among you, and has
enriched us all. How shall I express my gratitude, for the kind favors
you have shown me? The shirts from my dear mother came just in time.
And although the expression of Falstaff,--‘I have but a shirt and half
to all my company; and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together,’
was not true of us generally, yet I assure you my under ‘tunic’
answered mighty well to the half shirt. Your letter, and those of other
friends are thankfully received. This has been a happy day to us all,
notwithstanding the north-wester. I now take a hasty leave. The bearer
waits for this.”
_21st._--For the last two days we have all been busily engaged in
preparing for, and in celebrating the fourth anniversary of the
Spencer Greys, which came off yesterday in fine style. Our arms and
equipments were all polished and whitened, in the best manner our
limited conveniences would allow. Our fatigue dresses were not so showy
as our handsome uniforms at home, yet we made an imposing appearance,
and attracted much attention, while performing some maneuvers of the
fancy drill, upon our parade ground. One of the paymasters said it was
the finest display he had seen on the Rio Grande. I am told that our
general, in a burst of admiration, said, “I would rather command a
regiment of such boys than be the president.” In fact we did ourselves
great credit both in the field, and target firing. Above all the rest
our beautiful flag was universally admired.
It was a fine day, and everything appeared to good advantage. The
sun once more shone forth with all his refulgence, which contrasted
happily with the cold and dreary weather of the three or four previous
days, during which a strong norther was sweeping over us, blowing down
tents and covering everything with sand. But our birth-day anniversary
was ushered in with an unclouded sky, and a complete change in the
whole face of nature. The whole day proved an auspicious one, as the
paymaster arrived and forked over our seven dollars a month. At night
music and dancing were the order of exercises until tattoo, after
which I took the arm of a messmate and strolled out upon the bank of
the river, where we called up to our minds images of the past, spoke
of home, and drew many interesting contrasts. The pleasures of memory,
how varied they are! How inestimable are the faculties by which we
can enjoy again, former pleasures, and happy unions of the past! I
sometimes think that pleasures retrospective are purer than those of
anticipation or realization. “How grand is the power of thought! My
God! how great it is.” These reflections and our mutual interchanges
of sentiment were at length interrupted by the sound of a guitar,
which emanated from the sutler’s tent, to which we at once proceeded,
and found quite a number of officers, listening to the laudable
performances of our musical trio. We remained by invitation, until the
party broke up, then returned to our quarters.
“_23d._--Dear M ---- I have just returned from a visit to Point Isabel
after letters. Most of the boys were paid for their pains, except
myself. It is an anomaly to me that others around me are continually
receiving epistles from their friends, while I am generally doomed to
disappointment. The party consisted of five. After walking sixteen
miles, we arrived at Brazos Santiago, where we were struck with
the change everything presented. It appeared more like the levee at
New Orleans, than the desert island on which we first encamped. The
government has about one hundred and fifty teamsters and laborers
employed, and whole acres are covered with baggage wagons and army
stores. The harbor is filled with hundreds of vessels. Having
regaled ourselves with a dish of oysters and clams, we took a boat
and sailed to the point. We registered our names at the “Palo Alto
House,”--repaired to the post office, and performed various errands
for the boys. The next morning we witnessed the thrilling spectacle of
the disinterment of the remains of Major Ringgold, for the Baltimore
committee. The coffin was escorted to the quartermaster’s depot, by a
company of regulars. Others formed a procession in the rear, and all
marched to the tune of “Adeste Fideles,” accompanied by the roaring of
one eighteen pounder. Having arrived at the destined place, the body
was removed to a leaden coffin. It was so decayed we could form no
idea of its form or features. After dinner we returned to the Brazos,
and put up at the Greenwood Hotel. During the night there came up a
tremendous storm, which swept over the island driving everything before
it. It was quite amusing to see the barrels and hats, bounding before
the gale. Even part of an old steamboat chimney was started, and rolled
before the wind, faster than a horse could gallop, and was thus driven
as far as the eye could see on the other side into the gulf. A bet was
made upon the comparative speed of the barrel, hat and chimney--the
hat won. Having finished our suppers, we repaired to the theatre. The
Young Widow and Irish Tutor, composed the exercises of the evening,
interspersed with songs and dances. Two or three of the characters
were tolerably well sustained, and one of the mess remarked, ‘It is
as good a theatre as I want to go to.’ The storm continued during the
performances with redoubled fury, and the tide coming up between us and
our lodgings, we were forced to wade it against wind and sand, which
lashed our faces unmercifully. The next morning we started for the
camp, stopping by the way to pick up shells, which I will send you the
first opportunity. The Tampico fever rages higher than ever, and our
general is of the impression, we will not be here six days hence. * *
* * * Messes No. 1 and 13 have this day united into one. We now think
we are the _greatest mess alive_. Every one possesses some peculiarity
of taste and disposition, that affords fun for the rest. Every meal is
attended with the life and jollity of a public dinner.” * * * *
“_22d._--Dear Mother. The letter and clothing you sent me were
gratefully received. You can form some idea of my health, when I tell
you the shirts would not button at the neck by two inches, nor at
the wrist without an effort. In the pants the boys say I look like a
‘stuffed paddy.’ Nevertheless they all answer the purpose.
This has been quite an eventful day. In consideration of having no
extra dinner on the day of our celebration, and this being the birthday
of two of our boys, the combined efforts of messes 1 and 13, were
brought to bear upon the preparation of a sumptuous dinner for the
company. Guests were invited, among whom were many officers of the
brigade and regiment. Everything was got up in a style truly rich
and rare. Cooking was done in a manner unsurpassable. Roast beef,
fish, potatoes, peach pies and pound cake without eggs, constituted
the principal dishes. Cigars and claret, were the accompaniments.
Managers, cooks and waiters, all performed in their happiest way, in
their appropriate departments, and our guests congratulated us upon the
entire success of our efforts.” * * *
_December 5th._--We all thought yesterday, that last night would close
our stay in camp Belknap, as we had received orders to embark on the
first boat, for Camargo, and thence to Monterey. The joyous excitement
this news diffused among us, surpasses any description I can give.
In our company the whole night was spent in music and dancing. Our
musicians acquitted themselves ably. Our captain and others joined in
our merriment. I was on duty as corporal of the police, and as the
officer of the day only ordered me to suppress all riots, and see that
the lights were put out at tattoo, I did not think dancing included, so
I joined in the festivities with an ardor that has rendered me to-day
almost unable to walk, and my head aches as if it would split. “Those
who dance must pay the fiddler.” We have just removed to the river,
where we will await conveyance.
_7th._--Night before last seven companies of the regiment embarked for
Camargo, leaving the two rifle companies and Spencer Greys for the
next boat. We are detained in consequence of the captain refusing to
go on the steamer Enterprise, as it is too small to be safe for three
companies. So the Lanesville Legion took our place, it being a smaller
company. We expected to start next morning, but have been disappointed.