battery of three pieces, commanded by Lieut. O’Brien, marched out
towards the battery which had been playing against us during the
night and morning. We formed a line in front of three regiments of
Mexico’s oldest soldiers (see Map O). It was an awful moment to face
the thousands of veterans in solid column, with their gaudy uniforms
and showy banners. But we had no time for admiration; for, before our
line was formed, they had fired two rounds, which we soon returned
in right good earnest. I was at my post in the rank of file closers,
and was urging the men to form in their proper places, when Captain
Sanderson cried out, “Never mind, Frank, fire away!” which I did, with
all possible haste. About this time, the battery on our left (see Map,
Letters M, B), opened upon us a deadly fire of grape, which raked our
flank with terrible effect; still we stood front to front, and poured
our fire upon the infantry, which did us but little injury, as they
shot too high. But the battery on our left galled us exceedingly.
It appeared as if we had purposely halted in their exact range, and
the whole atmosphere resounded with the whizzing shot that came with
increasing precision. Apollos Stephens was the first of the Greys to
fall. He received a grape shot in the head, and fell back almost into
my arms. O, how shall I describe the horror of my feelings? There lay
quivering in death one of my comrades, with his eyes upturned, and the
tears starting from them. It was a sad and touching scene--one that
will never be effaced from my memory. I was loading when he fell,
and compressing my lips, and smothering my emotions, I stepped over
him and fired. Our captain was the next to fall, exclaiming “_I’ve
got it, boys!_” A grape shot had struck his scabbard, which saved his
life. Being ready to fire again, I stepped into a vacant place in the
ranks, where I continued to load and fire without noticing anything
around. The only thought I remember to have had was, “What a wonder
I did not receive Captain Sanderson’s shot, as I was next to him on
the same line! so the ball must have passed me before it struck him.”
All was hurry and excitement, each working hard and doing his best.
Occasionally a cannon-ball would whistle over our heads, or strike the
ground near us, throwing the rock and dirt in all directions.
We had fired about twenty-one rounds, when I heard some one say, “They
are all retreating!” and turning, I saw that the right wing had gone,
and the left starting. But several who had not heard Colonel Bowles’
order to retreat, cried out, “Halt, men! for God’s sake, stop!” At
this, many of us hesitated; but the retreat was general, and the enemy
fast advancing upon us, led on by a large force of lancers. At length,
Lieutenant Cayre, then in command, remarked, “It’s no use, boys, to
stay here alone; let _us_ retreat!” which we did, with the balls
raining around us, and the lancers at our heels. We rallied, by order,
on the brow of the ridge from which we started in the morning, but were
told to fall back upon the ridge on which we were first formed on the
morning of the 22d. Here many of us met the Mississippi regiment of
riflemen, who had just arrived from their quarters in town.
The more I reflect upon our position in the opening of the conflict,
the more I am at a loss to understand the policy of sending the 2d
regiment against such an overpowering force. We were three-quarters of
a mile from any assistance, except that of the gallant O’Brien, who
with his three little pieces did such great execution.
Our field officers all deny giving the word retreat, and General
Lane, they say, intended to charge. Had he given the word, the charge
would have been made; but how dreadful would have been the slaughter
of our troops. It is unprecedented in the annals of warfare, for
eight companies to rush against a disciplined force of three thousand
infantry supported by twelve hundred lancers. Had we remained fifteen
minutes longer, it is thought not one half of us would have survived.
Their battery was fast getting our exact range, and it is astonishing
that so many of us escaped.[1]
[1] In justice to General Lane who, being ordered by General Wool to
move forward and meet the enemy that were advancing in strong force,
selected this point for their reception--I will state, that since I
have surveyed, with more leisure and coolness, our position, I am
convinced that a more judicious spot could not have been chosen. It was
the only place where our small force could present so large a front as
the enemy, who, with their overpowering numbers upon almost any other
ground, might have surrounded and destroyed us. To show the probability
of success, had the intended charge been made, I will here quote from a
conversation after the battle. General Wool remarked to Colonel Bowles,
in the presence of General Lane, Colonel Curtis, 3d Ohio regiment, and
Major Washington, Light Artillery, that if he had withheld his order,
“Cease firing, and retreat,” and had carried out the intention of
General Lane, to advance, his regiment would have executed one of the
most brilliant things ever done on any field of battle; “for,” said he,
“Santa Anna, in his own official report, remarks, ‘that he had already
passed an order for his forces to retreat, when the enemy, after a most
determined resistance, was observed to give way in great confusion.’”
My object in thus pausing in my description, is to show the position
of our field officers, and why the 2d Indiana regiment scattered
themselves into other regiments. Here, one instance will be related
showing the qualification of Colonel Bowles to command. On the night of
the 22d we were surprised by a body of horsemen, supposed to be lancers
endeavoring to outflank us. This was pointed out to the Colonel, who
called us to attention, and attempted to form us in a line of battle
before the enemy. But, in his ignorance of tactics, he got us with the
“left in front,” and while we were maneuvering to get right, we might
have been cut to pieces. Fortunately, however, the alarm was caused by
some of our own cavalry, who were returning from watering their horses.
At this display of incapacity in the hour of danger, great murmuring
arose amongst the officers, and the men were all unwilling to trust
their honor and lives in his hands. A committee was sent to General
Lane, requesting him to be with us on the following day, which he
promised faithfully to do. Now in these remarks, I do not wish to
express any disrespect to Colonel Bowles, farther than as a military
commander. I believe him to be intelligent, courteous and humane, and
judging of actions during the engagement, I have no reason to doubt
his or Colonel Haddon’s bravery. But who would wonder at our want
of confidence in these officers, after beholding their ridiculous
blunders while on drill? Who would blame the men for preferring other
commanders, when the enemy commenced crowding upon us? One-third of
us joined other regiments, and the remainder rallied under Lieutenant
Colonel Haddon, forming a distinct front as a regiment, and fought with
firmness alongside the Mississippians and 3d Indianians.
After many fruitless exertions to rally his men, Colonel Bowles ordered
those who were near him to join the Mississippians, at the same time
falling in himself. We marched along the ridge to meet a large body of
lancers supported by infantry. We soon opened our fire upon them, and
that, too, in a manner which forced them to retreat, and pursuing, we
halted at intervals, and continued our leaden hail. Having followed
them across two deep ravines, they were reinforced, and came rushing
down upon us like a tremendous avalanche, pouring out upon us their
incessant shot. We fell back across the two hollows, occasionally
halting to fire upon our pursuers.
While in the second ravine, the sun shining with burning heat,
famishing for want of water, and almost overcome with exertions, I
leaned against a rocky precipice, and there made up my mind to die.
Sad and hopeless were my thoughts, when, raising my head, I beheld the
Mexican line firing down upon us. At this I was involuntarily aroused,
and recollecting an expression in Mrs. W.’s letter, “If you should
die, it would kill your mother,” I made an effort for those I loved
and gained the summit. But oh! God! what a merciful preservation! The
balls rained around, scattering death and destruction on every side.
It appeared like the bed under a shot tower, so thick and fast did the
balls hail about us. A man just before me was shot down, and a brave
lieutenant, who so kindly made room for me in his company, fell wounded
behind me, exclaiming, “Give me water! give me a handkerchief!” I gazed
upon his supplicating countenance, but had nothing to relieve him.
Rendered reckless by the sight we had just witnessed, we rallied again
upon the top of the hill, and with the 2d Indiana under Lieutenant
Haddon, opened a terrible fire upon our blood-thirsty enemies. They
soon retreated in the utmost disorder.
Having fled beyond our fire, a detail was sent to explore the ravine
for our wounded. While descending, what a shocking scene presented
itself! The barbarians were cruelly butchering our wounded, and
stripping them of their clothes. But our unerring rifles soon stopped
these atrocious murders. Our success was but poor compensation for the
blood of twenty brave comrades. The poor lieutenant was left naked with
his throat cut from ear to ear.
About this time the city of Saltillo was attacked by two thousand
lancers, from Palamus Pass, commanded by General Minon, but being
unable to face Major Webster’s well-directed battery from the redoubt
fort, were driven back, after endeavoring to join the main army
by passing along the foot of the mountain. Simultaneous with this
engagement, a charge was made by a large body of lancers upon our
baggage and provision train, at the Ranch (see Map, Letter J) Buena
Vista, and were met by several companies of Kentucky and Arkansas
cavalry, who were unable to withstand the shock, and were forced to
fall back. Then the extended line of lancers came rushing down with
their weapons poised ready to murder and rob our wounded, and sack our
wagons. But they were checked by the appalling fire from the Indiana
rifle battalion, who were ordered from the mountain with others who
had rallied there. (See Map, Letter K.) If the latter could be blamed
for retreating thither, they more than balanced it by their coolness
and heroic defence in this instance. So firmly and furiously did they
resist the Mexicans, that the plundering wretches gladly made their
escape, leaving the plain strewed with their dead and dying. They
were now pursued by Colonel May’s squadron of dragoons, who, with two
pieces of Captain Bragg’s battery, had just come up. They were driven
along the foot of the mountain into a gorge, where they joined a force
that the Mississippians, reinforced by the two Indiana regiments and a
twelve-pound howitzer, had been firing upon with great execution. There
we had them in a dreadful dilemma, Colonel May (see Letter U), and the
two pieces on the left pouring forth a destructive fire as they closed
in. Below, on their right, was stationed a battery of three pieces,
commanded by Captain Sherman, (see Letter Z,) emitting without mercy
the messengers of death. Still further to the right was our position,
(see Letter H,) and with our little cannon was opening their ranks at
every fire. At this interesting crisis, just as we were about to obtain
a brilliant victory over a force of more than five thousand strong,
we were ordered to cease hostilities, as a flag of truce had arrived.
There was an immediate cessation on _our_ part, which the enemy
faithlessly took advantage of, by passing out of the gorge, but not
without suffering greatly from the fire which opened upon them, when
their object was discovered.
The greatest portion of the afternoon was spent with these events. The
enemy, now making another desperate effort, came charging down upon us
in all their splendor. We at once formed a V. (See Letter H.) The 3d
Indiana on the right, the Mississippians and 2d Indiana forming the
angle. As we stood awaiting their approach, Colonel Davis cried out,
“Hold your fire, men, until they get close, and then give it to them!”
I never shall forget the imposing appearance of the Mexicans as they
bore down upon us with their immense columns, glittering lances, and
parti-colored banners. There was one company mounted upon white horses,
and wearing brass mounted caps, with red plumes. At first they started
off in a trot, and as they accelerated into a graceful gallop, with
lines accurately dressed, and lances poised for action, within twenty
paces of us, General Lane gave the word--“_Now give it to them!_”
Here I shall fail in description. What language could I use to convey
a vivid impression of the din and crashing thunder of this terrible
collision? How awful was the report and the destruction of our deadly
fire. The enemy at first slackened, then halted and wavered; then
turning toward their battery, on the ridge, they fled, terrified and
panic-stricken.
It was, indeed, a glorious achievement. Whole platoons appeared to
droop and fall before our unerring shot. It seemed as if every man
felt that he was an American soldier, and that he was individually
responsible for the performance of that hour. And as the victors
pursued the retreating foe, they rent the air with their shouts of
triumph, throwing up their caps, and giving every demonstration of the
highest delight.
I now felt for the first time like exclaiming, “There is something
glorious in the pomp and circumstance of war.” I almost thought that
I could not be killed, and I felt secure when I reflected about the
bloody ravine, and my miraculous escape. General Lane here rode by,
exclaiming, “_We’ll whip them yet!_” He forgot entirely his wounded
arm, and rode about the field cheering and encouraging the men. It
was truly a happy time! Our little cannon had played into them so
effectually, and it was defended so nobly! In a few minutes we were
again facing the foe upon the ridge, near the place where we were
stationed in the morning. (see Letter S.) The enemy had planted there
a heavy battery, (see Letters M and B,) and as we ascended the brow of
the hill, we were warmly received by an incessant fire, both from the
battery and the Mexican reserve of six thousand that were pursuing
the Illinoisians and Kentuckians, who had _heroically_ attacked this
overpowering force. This was the unfortunate charge in which fell the
gallant Hardin, McKee, and Clay;--a trio of mind, heart and courage,
ever to be lamented. (See Letter P.)
We soon, however, nothing daunted, paid them back with interest, and
again the air was eloquent with our victorious cheers. We there fell
back for protection, under the brow of the hill, and calmly listened
to the whizzing shot from the enemy’s battery striking the ground in
front and rear, scattering the stone in every direction. Thus was spent
the remaining portion of the day. Occasionally we would be called to
attention, and marched to the brow of the hill, when we suspected some
demonstration upon our cannon, which was used in silencing the enemy’s
battery. About sundown, the thundering of artillery ceased, and the
conflict of the day was over.
The Mississippians having received orders to repair to their quarters
in town, myself and Lieutenant Kunkle, (who so proudly bore our banner
in the thickest fight,) accompanied them as far as the hacienda. Our
noble banner was executed by the skill and patriotism of the New Albany
ladies.
Such a night as I spent at the hacienda, God grant that I may never
spend again! What piles of wounded and dying that lay groaning around!
After wandering about among the wagons which were formed into a hollow
square, I came across one of my messmates. Warmly grasping each
other’s hands, we mutually inquired for our comrades. Then came the
mournful tidings of the death of Francis Baily, Warren Robinson, and
Charles Goff, three of my warmest friends, and brightest ornaments of
our company. What a shock was this!--two of our beloved messmates,
by whom, side by side, we had laid together for so many long months
on the soldier’s couch, and with whom we had so often joked, while
around our simple meals! But no more shall we mingle together in such
uninterrupted harmony! I sought among the wagons for my blanket, but it
was not there. I desired no food, notwithstanding I had eaten but a few
pieces of hard crackers since the morning before. I was now becoming
conscious of my excessive weariness. Loss of sleep, violent exertion,
and the rain, which drenched us several times during the day, caused my
bones to ache in every joint. Weary and faint, I resorted to the roof
of one of the houses, hoping to get a little rest, but in this I was
disappointed. I had scarcely begun to occupy a portion of a blanket
kindly offered me by one of my friends, when we were alarmed by an
unexpected charge from the lancers. Great were the excitement and hurry
on the house tops. Soon every one was ready and waiting for the onset.
Thus the night was spent in continual alarms, anxiety and suspense. We
were ordered to lie upon our arms, and five times during the night were
we aroused for the expected assault from the lancers, whose watch fires
gleamed ominously from the mountains around. The sun had hardly arisen
upon the bloody field, when I gladly arose to seek a fire, as my limbs
were benumbed with cold. While seated on a stone near a fire, I was
brooding over my fate, and that of our little army.
Gloomy, indeed, were my thoughts when my eye caught an open letter
lying upon the ground. Picking it up, I read carelessly until I started
at beholding my own name. Soon I found that the letter was written from
my beloved home, by one of my female friends to my departed associate,
Charles Goff. Never did I before so fully appreciate the value of
friends, or a quiet home, away from the tumult of war. “A---- says she
loves her friends.” How did these sweet words sink into my heart, and
what would I not have given to have realized their import! But what
a contrast between my situation and that of my friends! The dead and
the dying, with mangled and bloody features, staring at me, and a day
of deadly strife before us! I felt that my own destiny would soon be
sealed, and resolved to hold out to the last.
If ever permitted to return home and mingle with valued friends, and
enjoy the blessings of peace, doubtless many of the horrors will be
effaced from my memory. But never shall I forget the terrible night
that I passed at the hacienda of Buena Vista.
Having partaken of some refreshment, many of us proceeded to the field
to rejoin our regiment. While wiping out our muskets and renewing our
flints by the way, we were passed by six men, bearing the body of a
wounded companion. Looking over their shoulders, I recognized my old
friend, Sergeant Combs, of the 3d Indiana regiment. The poor fellow had
been shot in the leg, and had lain out in the field all night. In the
morning his naked body was found amidst a plat of prickly pears, with
his flesh penetrated by the long needles. He has since died.
Upon our arrival we heard of the retreat of the Mexican army, and
parties were sent out in all directions for the killed and wounded.
Another and myself obtained leave to seek for the body of Warren
Robinson. The last account we had of him he was in a ravine, completely
exhausted, and some one passing, remarked, “Warren, don’t stop here;
you’ll surely be killed!” He answered, “I can’t help it; I can go no
further; and if I never see you again, you will know where to find me.”
This place was described to us, and we found him accordingly. He was
pierced to the heart by a ball, and robbed of his shoes and stockings,
and the contents of his pockets.
After gazing upon the placid countenance of young Warren, and
reflecting on his blasted hopes of the future, we raised him up,
and with assistance, bore his bleeding body to the summit of the
ridge. Having secured a wagon, a party of us went in search of others
belonging to our regiment. At length we found the horridly disfigured
bodies of Apollos Stephens and Francis Baily. They were stripped
of their clothing, and near the place where they had fallen in the
morning. At first the icy coldness of their naked bodies sent a thrill
of horror at every touch throughout my whole frame: but my firmness
of nerve increased a little as we progressed in filling up the wagon
with our fallen associates. How my blood chills when I reflect on
those dead soldiers stiffened in frightful attitudes, that were heaped
upon one another so promiscuously! On which side soever we turned our
eyes, could be seen friends and foes terribly mangled, and lingering
in torture. Many of the Mexicans would call out “Agua, agua!” and
gulping it down, they would appear resigned to die. And thus the day
was spent in wandering over the bloody field, and burying the dead.
The dead of each regiment were laid together. Our boys were placed
side by side--Robinson sharing the blanket of his college mate Capt.
Kinder. After preserving a lock of each one’s hair, as a memento for
their friends, we fixed a cross made with staves, with their names cut
thereon, and raised over them a pile of stones. Then we fired three
salutes, and with a heavy heart returned to our camp. But wherever
we went, the dead appeared to follow us, and the most solemn silence
reigned around. On one side lay fifty of our killed, all stripped;
and everywhere could be seen the effect of the raging conflict. After
a cheerless supper, we performed the last duties of humanity to our
worthy messmate Charles Goff. It appears that during the retreat he
received a lance wound in the left elbow, and repaired to a stream
below the rancho to quench his thirst and bathe his wound when he was
attacked by five lancers. Seeing him unarmed, they pursued him at full
speed. After chasing him some distance, they overtook him, and Charles,
finding it impossible to save himself, faced the foe and received the
lance in the breast, before assistance could arrive, and died with an
expression of calm resignation lingering upon his countenance. He was
a good soldier, taking pride in the performance of all his duties. As
a Christian he was invulnerable to the temptations of camp. The last
conversation I had with him was just before we marched out to the
battle. I inquired if he had expressed to any one his wishes in case
he should fall. He replied “No!” with great seriousness. “Hadn’t you
better?” said I. “Yes, and now is the time,” he answered. “I wish you
to collect my papers and things, and take them home to my friends; you
know who I mean.” I asked if he just meant those things that might
be preserved as mementos. Here we were called to attention, and he
replied by nodding his head. Then I heard his rallying voice after the
retreat, which was the last I saw of him until he was cold in death. O
how deeply do we feel his loss! Few, indeed, were like him! We buried
him by moonlight on a grassy ridge near the spot where he fell. Several
officers of the brigade and regiment were present.
The next day our scouts brought word that Santa Anna was still at Agua
Nueva, and perhaps would renew the combat. We were ordered to strike
our tents and repair again to the battle-field, where we remained
suffering almost every inconvenience. In my mess there was not a single
blanket, and many of us had lost our knap-sacks with our clothing.
So we were forced to sleep upon a stony mattress with our tents as
coverlids. Even such rest as these could afford was uncertain. Our
dreams were feverish with anxiety, and every hour we expected the long
roll, and our arms were continually near us. The long roll! oh how
terrible the sound! fraught with danger and death! The soldier alone
can appreciate its import! A night or two before, we heard its sounds
with all its horrors.
Others with myself were conversing over a few coals when General Lane
came up, and ordered Colonel Bowles to have the long roll beaten as an
express had just arrived, stating that our picket guard had been fired
upon. This was a fine opportunity to witness its startling effect,
and waking up my mess we looked down the ravine, where so many were
reposing their weary bones. The moon looked down upon us in all her
silvery brightness, save in the gloomy shadow of mighty rocks, which
were piled up stratum upon stratum. Death-like stillness pervaded the
scene, but it was like the silence that preludes the mighty crash of
the avalanche; for now the rolling of a hundred drums spreads from line
to line. In an instant the white coverings are flying in the air, and
the whole army starting to their feet with every variety of expression
visible upon their excited countenances.