Freedmen's Bureau--Gen. O. O. Howard, Commissioner--Platform for 328
Reconstruction--Ironclad Oath--Natural Rights of Man--Civil
Rights--Negroes Made Citizens--Persecution--Agents of Freedmen's
Bureau--Personal Experience--Negro Justices--Some Trials--Judge
Shackelford--Secret Societies--William A. Sharkey--Gov. Adelbert
Ames--Sheriff Webber--Taxes--Board of Levee Commissioners
Dismissed--Religious Negroes--Bishop Wilmer--Prayers for the
President--Shotgun Election--Hegira--Carpetbaggers--Indissoluble
Union--Indestructible States--We Were a Conquered
Nation--Reconstruction Only a Definition for Deeds
Done--Strength of Respective Armies
APPENDIX.
SOME STATISTICS OF THE WAR 353
PERCENTAGE KILLED AND WOUNDED IN LATE WARS 355
SLAVE OWNERS IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 355
PRISON DEATHS AND PRISONERS 357
THE AUTHORITY TO TAX 358
COST OF THE WAR 359
NAVAL POWER OF THE UNITED STATES 359
NAMES, RANK, AND POSITIONS OF OFFICERS ON MY STAFF 359
GOVERNMENT IN LOUISIANA, 1875-76 360
VIOLATION OF PAROLES 365
CASSVILLE 367
SLAVERY PROCLAMATION AND CONFISCATION ACT 383
INDENTURE 385
OUR UNKNOWN DEAD 402
ILLUSTRATIONS, MAPS, ETC.
PAGE
SAMUEL G. FRENCH Frontispiece
PLAN OF BATTLE OF RESACA, MEX 52
PLAN OF BATTLE OF MONTEREY, MEX 63
MAP OF THE COUNTRY NEAR BUENA VISTA 75
PLAN OF BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA 79
JOHN C. FRENCH 119
JEFFERSON DAVIS 141
ROBERT E. LEE 171
JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON 179
LEONIDAS POLK 191
MAP OF CASSVILLE 197
MAP OF NEW HOPE CHURCH, GA 200
MAP OF BATTLE OF KENNESAW MOUNTAIN, JUNE 27, 1864 204
BATTLE OF KENNESAW MOUNTAIN 207
A. P. STEWART 213
MAP OF ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 224
F. M. COCKRELL 227
CAPTURE OF BLOCKHOUSE, ALLATOONA CREEK, OCTOBER 5, 1864 231
MAJ. D. W. SANDERS 235
MAP OF FORTIFICATIONS, ALLATOONA, GA 242
BATTLE OF ALLATOONA 250
SIGNAL TREE, ALLATOONA, OCTOBER 5, 1864 254
BATTLE OF ALLATOONA--CAPTURE OF REDOUBT "R" 259
RAILROAD CUT, ALLATOONA 269
JOSEPH M. BROWN 279
THE LONE GRAVE 282
MAP OF BATTLE OF FRANKLIN 293
JULIUS L. BROWN 363
THE INDENTURE 386
THE INDENTURE (reverse side) 390
HENRY WARD BEECHER SELLING SLAVES 393
JOSEPH E. BROWN 399
ERRATA.
The name of Joseph H. French, a brother of the writer, was
inadvertently omitted on page 3.
On page 323, eleventh line, Edward Cooper should be Louis Cooper.
On page 334, last line, H. N. Hood should be W. N. Hood.
TWO WARS.
CHAPTER I.
Ancestry--Thomas Ffrench--Military Aspiration--Important
Document--Appointment to West Point--New Jersey Farm
Life--Great Changes--A Real Yankee--Pennsylvania Hall--The
Fashions--Capture of a Hessian Soldier--Rufus Choate and
Bishop Wainwright--West Point--Cadet Life--Senator Wall--John
F. Reynolds--The Boycott--Rufus Ingalls--Requisites of a
Commander.
Inasmuch as the government of this country cannot grant any title to
nobility, nor can it be conferred by any foreign power, the people of
the United States have, to gratify a natural pride, been obliged to
obtain distinction in various ways. Among them may be mentioned the
accumulation of money, political preferment, the pride of ancestry, and
professional attainments.
The pride of ancestry is a very laudable one, and no doubt it has a
guiding influence in shaping the destiny of our lives. We discover it
in the honor felt by the members of such societies as those of the
Colonial wars, the Cincinnati, Sons of the Revolution, Aztec Club,
Sons of Veterans, and many others. And it is true: "Those will not look
forward to their posterity who never look backward to their ancestors."
Of the countless millions of human beings who in successive generations
have passed over the stage of life, most of them, on their exit, have
sunk into oblivion. The names of twenty-seven are all that are known of
the human family from man's creation down to the days of Noah.
From the deluge to the present time a few men of great genius as
poets, historians, warriors, conquerors, and criminals claim _general
recognition_ from mankind. All others are relegated or consigned to
the special history of a people, and thereby rescued from an otherwise
oblivion. As individuals they perish.
I am quite sure we are more indebted to Boswell for a true insight into
the life and character of Samuel Johnson than we are to his writings,
and there is the utmost interest attached to the home life of all the
world's great actors. Even as late as our revolutionary war we find
much interest in the part played by the fashionable ladies during the
war, and gossip of the Wistar parties, and card parties of New York and
Philadelphia. From the "Mischianza"[1] we have a clear insight to the
true and gentle character of Major André and his accomplishments; and
the beauty of some of the Quaker City belles.
Now in consideration of the desire of every gentleman to have a
knowledge of his ancestry, and some knowledge of the times in which
they lived, I purpose for the benefit of my children to write down
somewhat of things I have seen and a part of which I was, and to make
mention of some of the famous men with whom I have been acquainted
during the eventful years between 1839 and the present time (1895).
As I was an officer in the United States army from 1843 to 1856, and
a major general in the Confederate army, I purpose to relate some of
the events of the Mexican and Confederate wars in the course of this
narrative.
I was born in the county of Gloucester, State of New Jersey, on
November 22, 1818. My father's name was Samuel French, whose ancestry
in this country runs back to Thomas French, who descended from one of
the oldest and most honorable of English families. The Ffrenches were
Normans and went to England with William the Conqueror. In after days
some of the family went with Strongbow, the Earl of Pembroke, when he
invaded Ireland and "laid waste the country, reducing everything to
subjection," whereby they gained great possessions. Thomas Ffrench,
who was a descendant of the Norman Ffrenchs, was, as the register
shows, baptized in the church now standing in Nether Hayford, North
Hamptonshire, in the year 1537. The painting of that church you have.
A direct descendant of the aforesaid Thomas Ffrench, also named
Thomas Ffrench, an adherent of the Church of England, for some reason
abandoned it and became a member of the Society of Friends (Quakers),
and for this apostasy was persecuted and imprisoned. To escape
the persecution he sailed to the colonies, and when he returned to
England he became "one of the landed proprietors of West New Jersey in
America."
Taking passage for himself, wife, and nine children, he landed in
Burlington, West New Jersey, on the 23d of July, 1680, O. S.
In 1664 Charles II. granted to his brother, the Duke of York, the
territory along our coast north of the mouth of the Delaware river.
The duke sold the land lying between the Delaware and Hudson rivers to
the forty-first degree of north latitude to Lord John Berkeley and Sir
John Cartaret; who named it New Cæsarea, or New Jersey. They divided it
into East and West Jersey; but later, the grant being unsatisfactory
to the king, owing to conflicting claims of the proprietors and their
heirs, James in 1689 compelled them to surrender or sell their claims
to the crown, and all were embodied in one province, New Jersey. Thomas
French, under these proceedings, signed the articles relinquishing
to the king his proprietary privileges to the one-ninetieth of the
one-eighth of West Jersey. Thus New Jersey became a royal colony after
the king bought the rights of the proprietors. Sir John Carteret named
the land purchased New Jersey because he had been governor of the Isle
of Jersey off the coast of France in the English Channel.
My mother's name was Rebecca Clark. She was born January 1, 1790, at
Billingsport, on the banks of the Delaware river, in New Jersey. She
was married to my father on the 3d day of October, 1816. The names of
their children were: Garret, Samuel G., Charles C., John C., Sallie C.,
and George W.
Passing from family records, I will now revert to myself, and will
endeavor to show what creatures of circumstances most men are. One day,
when a boy (aged about eight years), my father left me at a store in
Market Street, near Water Street, Philadelphia, Pa., where he usually
obtained his family groceries. Over the door of that store was a modest
signboard, and on it was painted the names, Hamilton and Hood. Mr.
Hood was always kind to me, and usually gave me a paper of candy or
other sweetmeats. On this particular occasion, it being a rainy day, I
was left there alone with Mr. Hood, and I remember now--although near
seventy years have passed--what there and then occurred. Eating candies
and playing about in the store, I discovered hanging in the office a
picture of a young person (full-size bust) clad in a gray coat, with
three rows of round brass buttons thereon, braided horizontally. From
some cause it riveted my boyish attention. After looking at it for
some time, I exclaimed: "Who is that?" Mr. Hood replied: "That is my
son." "What is he dressed so fine for?" I asked. Mr. Hood then told
me his son was a cadet at the United States military academy at West
Point; that he was at school there. Dancing around, I said: "I want
to go to that school too." The response was, "Only a few boys can go
to that school; to get there the boy's father must have influence
with the President, and get an appointment from him," etc. I still
looked at the picture, and I can see it to-day as I did then. It will
never be effaced. As years rolled on, and I knew nothing about West
Point, except that it was not open to all applicants, it was fading
away in my mind, until one day when passing along Chestnut Street I
saw in the window of a clothing house a large picture of the cadets
of the United States military academy on dress parade. I gazed on it
a very long time, oblivious to all around me, calling to mind only
the remarks made to me by Mr. Hood; on these I pondered long, and
made some inquiries, and finally resolved to make an effort to get an
appointment to the academy. On entering school, kept by the Rev. Samuel
Aaron in Burlington, N. J., my roommate was a boy named Duer, who
was from Pennsylvania. One day he opened his trunk and showed me his
appointment as a cadet to the United States Military Academy. I told
him I wanted to go there also, and questioned him about how he obtained
the appointment. It was the same story that Mr. Hood had told me when
I was almost a child. But, undaunted by the requirements, I resolved to
act for myself, for up to this time I had not mentioned the subject to
either my father or mother, because the former belonged to the Society
of Friends, or Quakers; save only that, marrying "out of meeting,"
he was no longer regarded as an orthodox member, and they were not
considered as warlike people in any respect. Accordingly, when at home
one day, I wrote to the President of the United States asking in the
name of my father the appointment. As his name was the same as mine, I
supposed I would get the reply myself from the post office.
I was on the lookout for the answer, when one day in walked, to our
house, my Quaker Uncle Charles, and handed to my father a letter
that looked to me a foot long, and as it had on the envelope "War
Department, Engineer's Office" in large letters, he said he was
"anxious to know the contents of the document." As father replied
he did not understand why such a letter was sent to him, I rose "to
explain."
My father said but little, but my uncle created some confusion by
telling the family I was going to the "bowwows" and the "bad place."
Without waiting to first ascertain whether I was "going to the war" or
not, several of my Quaker aunts called soon after to say good-by before
I got shot, as they were sure the British would kill me, so filled were
their minds with "war's alarums" caused by the war of 1812.
When peace was restored and my uncle gone, my father told me that if
I really desired the position he would aid me in getting it. So one
day he took me with him and called on Charles C. Stratton, a relation
of ours living near by, and then a Whig Member of Congress. New Jersey
was not at that time divided into congressional districts, and a Whig
delegation was seated in Congress under "the broad seal of New Jersey,"
and had no influence with a Democratic administration; and so no
appointment came.
But, nothing discouraged, the following winter, being still at the
Burlington Academy, I called one day on Gen. Garret D. Wall, then one
of our United States Senators, a resident of Burlington. I made known
to him the object of my calling. He listened attentively to my request,
said that he knew my father and many of my relatives very well, and
that he would aid me. The winter passed, Congress had adjourned, and no
appointment came.
About this time my father, passing through the town of Woodbury, N. J.,
happened to stop at the courthouse, and meeting Senator Wall there,
asked him about my cadetship, who, on being told the appointment had
not been received, sat down in the court room, wrote a few lines to
the President, handed them to father, and told him to mail them. In a
few days the appointment came, the reward of diligent perseverance and
waiting.
Good Mr. Hood! I suppose I often stopped at his store in after years,
and yet I can only call to mind one allusion made to West Point.
He told me once that his son, Lieut. Washington Hood, was in Cuba
surveying a route for a railroad--for Tacon, Governor-General of
Cuba--from Havana to Matanzas.
As there may be a desire in long after years to have a knowledge of
how the "well-to-do" farmers lived in the early part of the present
century in New Jersey, I will describe the condition of the people
at my father's. New Jersey was a slave State when I was born. In
1820 slavery was abolished; but there were two hundred and thirty-six
slaves for life in 1850 in the State, because it did not emancipate a
slave then in being. It only set free the _unborn babes_. You see the
difference between _abolition_ and _emancipation_? The superabundance
of the necessaries of life at that period can scarcely be realized
now, and every one fared sumptuously, and nearly all alike. Under the
house there were four cellars. As winter approached, perhaps forty
cords of oak and hickory wood, four feet in length, were hauled to
the wood pile. Some twenty or more fat hogs were killed, the hams
and shoulders sugar-cured and smoked in a large stone smokehouse. The
sides, etc., were salted down in great cedar tanks. The beeves were
killed, the rounds dried, not smoked, and the rest "corned." Minced
meat and sausage, in linked chains by the hundreds of pounds, cider
boiled down in great copper kettles, and apple butter and pear sauce
made without stint. Shad from the fishery were bought for salting down
for six dollars per hundred. Oysters by the wagon load were in winter
put in the cellar and kept fat by sprinkling them with brine and corn
meal. In bins the choice apples were stored, each variety by itself,
for daily use, while large quantities were buried in the earthen pits
for spring. On the swinging shelves was the product of the dairy,
cheese and butter. Four hogsheads were kept full of cider vinegar; and
"apple jack" (apple brandy) in barrels in a row, according to age;
great old-fashioned demijohns were kept full of cherries, wild and
cultivated, covered with brandy. Apples, peaches, pears, huckleberries,
currants, plums, etc., were dried on scaffolds in the sun for pies
and other purposes: and the children forgot not their ample supply of
chestnuts, shellbarks, hazelnuts, etc. Turkeys, geese, and barnyard
fowls were raised largely, but they were considered produce for sale.
There was no stint to these superabundant supplies, and they were
yearly consumed. Rabbits, pheasants, partridges, and woodcock were
abundant, and often were secured by trapping; and the ponds and streams
were filled with fish. I might perhaps convey to you a better idea of
the abundance of fruit and its cheapness by stating that I have seen
wagons come to the farm for peaches, and they were told to go into the
orchard and get as many as they wanted, and on coming out an estimate
would be made of the number of bushels gathered, and they were charged
ten cents per bushel. Apples, the finest of varieties, were unsalable,
and were hauled to the great public cider mill, ground up for cider,
and that distilled into brandy on shares--that is, the mills allowed
the farmer a certain number of gallons of brandy for every hundred
bushels of apples delivered. And as numerous as were these great cider
mills, I have seen the gates locked and teams turned away because of
the supply exceeding the capacity of the presses.
There were Germans who wove carpets, and mills that converted the wool
into cloth. All along the king's highway, which was marked with granite
shafts for milestones, each one denoting, in carved letters, how many
miles it was to Camden (Cooper's Ferry), there were smith's shops,
wheelwrights, cabinetmakers, and country shoemakers, and taverns for
entertainment of "man and beasts."
Daily, four-horse stagecoaches, carrying the mail and passengers,
passed over the road, and, by common consent, I suppose, they were
granted the right of way, or it may have been the last lingering
observance of respect to kingly prerogative.
Now somewhere in this part of the country there lived an old and
very polite Frenchman. He possessed a pony and a little wagon, and in
that wagon he carried a bench, his lasts, and his tools, for he was a
shoemaker, and went the rounds of the neighborhood to make, yearly,
the family shoes. Out of morocco imported from Barbary, calfskin
from France, and leather from the village tannery he fashioned most
beautiful boots and shoes for male and female; yes, neat and befitting
they were; and how long they lasted! Wonder not that I have introduced
you to this polite and kind old Frenchman. He belonged to the Emperor's
old guard, and after Waterloo he came to this country. Young as I was,
many times and oft would I persuade him to tell me of "the battles,
sieges, fortunes he had passed, of moving incidents of flood and field,
of hairbreadth escapes," and grand charges he had made under the eye
of the Emperor, how he detested England and loved the vine-clad hills
and pleasant fields of France. At our house he would fix himself up in
the loft over the carriage house, and then while at work he would tell
us boys so much about the "Little Corporal" and the grand marshals of
France.
His abiding faith in and admiration for the Emperor passed all bounds.
When it was known to all the world that Napoleon was dead, sleeping in
a lone grave in a far distant island, guarded by English bayonets, as
though he might "awake to glory again" and make the little monarchs
tremble once more even at his name, this devoted soldier of the old
guard would not believe it, and swore it was an English lie.
I have given these minute details of the manner in which the people
lived in New Jersey and adjoining States in the olden times, "when the
richest were poor and the poorest had abundance," to show you how well
they lived, how comfortably clad, and how content they were in the
days when trusts, combines, and protective tariffs were unknown, and
no great corporations existed. To-day (1895) these great combines have
destroyed individual competition, and impoverished more than half the
entire population of the country and reduced it to rigidity of hours
and the _slavery_ of _wages_. They control legislation, corrupt the
courts, subsidize the press, maintain advocates in the pulpits, and
this will estrange the poor from the rich more widely than the peasant
from the prince; and, continued, may implant an unkindly feeling,
which, if not placated, may have to be settled by a resort to arms.
What a change has sixty-five years wrought! The stagecoach has
disappeared on the advent of railroads, steam will be displaced by
electricity as the candle and lamp have been, and as the friction match
has banished the flint and steel and tinder box, the scythe and sickle
have been superseded by the mower, the magnificent sailing ships have
given way to the ocean racers. Ere long we will see the wind pass by
as we see the streams of water now. "The cloud of witnesses around that
hold us in full survey" may themselves be seen, for we are discovering
the secrets of Arcana every day; the source of life and the mystery of
death will soon be discovered.
When I was a boy the habitat of the Yankee did not extend south of
Connecticut, as bounded by that elegant writer, Washington Irving, in
his _veritable_ history of New York. In that Knickerbocker history you
will find the southern limit of the Yankee. Is it possible to conceive
that Wouter van Twiller, Rip van Winkle, William the Testy, or Peter
the Headstrong, and the drowsy, dreamy Dutch people of New Amsterdam
were Yankees? No! they dwelt farther north; yet they might have overrun
and subdued New Amsterdam had not their minds been diverted by a sudden
outbreak of witchcraft, that afforded these saints infinite amusement
in a pious way, which saved New Amsterdam. When I was young it was not
considered complimentary or prudent to call a boy of your own size a
"Yankee."
My first recollection of seeing a real Yankee was connected with a
clock. At home there stood in the hall an eight-day clock, nearly
eight feet high, and it is to-day in the city of Woodbury, N. J., in
possession of my sister, Mrs. John G. Whitall. On its face are the
words, "Hollingshead, Woodstown, N. J., 1776." I infer that it might
have commenced recording time about the hour that the liberty bell in
Independence Hall, Philadelphia, on a certain fourth of July rang out
the Bible proclamation of liberty to all the land, and the "inhabitants
thereof."[2] It is a clock of some repute. It has Arabic numerals to
express the hours. The pendulum was adjusted in length to the latitude,
and vibrated every second and recorded it. It marked the day of the
month, and the month itself, and a picture of a round-faced female
would peep up from behind the scenes just as the moon rose, and veiled
her face when she set. In the absence of the moon a ship sailed slowly
on.
It had another accomplishment: an alarm that was worse than a Chinese
gong. I should think that handsome clock, which has been recording time
now for one hundred and nineteen years, would have sufficed; but no!
One bright May morning, when all the fruit trees were in bloom, and the
white-faced bumblebees were buzzing around, and the air was redolent
with perfume, a wagon stopped at the gate, and a tall, lean individual
came to the door and wished to see the mistress of the house. Said he
was "a stranger in these parts, that his load was too heavy for his
horse, and that he had clocks and other notions." Father was not in,
so my mother gave him permission to leave a clock until such time as he
would call for it. So he brought in an eight-day clock about three feet
high and adjusted it on the mantel in the dining room. It was rather
ornamental, and instead of the common, everyday figures such as were
in the multiplication table, it had an I for one, and II for two, and
so on, which was the Roman style; and then when it struck the hours,
instead of ringing a bell, the hammer fell on a coil of wire, producing
a cathedral sound that died away far off.
We all soon got used to the clock, and some three months after when the
man called to take his clock away mother said she was attached to it
and would keep it. It was all a Yankee trick to sell the clock, for he
disposed of many others in the same way. The Yankee clock has ticked
its last tick, but the old eight-day clock may outlive the nation whose
hours from its birth it has, by seconds, recorded. All _your life_ you
have heard the people of this country north of the slave States called
Yankees, and the people south Confederates, which is not true, but only
an incident of the war.
In Philadelphia I was present at the dedication of Pennsylvania Hall,
May 15, 1838, an abolition edifice. It was announced that David Paul
Brown would officiate at the dedication. His reputation as a lawyer and
an orator was well known, and on this occasion he did some stage acting
with fine effect. He was hidden away from the surging audience in some
manner, and after the chairman had stated the object of the meeting he
closed his remarks by saying that David Paul Brown _had promised_ to
be present to deliver the address. Presto! From concealment he rose to
his full height and exclaimed: "And I am here to fulfill that promise,
a promise as freely given as it shall be fearlessly performed, and as
high priest of this day's sacrifice I dedicate this hall to freedom,"
etc. A short time after, in the presence of some _ten thousand
spectators_, I saw about twenty persons, unmolested, batter down the
doors and destroy the building by fire; and from its ashes sprung up
the free soil party.
As fashion plates of dress worn sixty years ago are not plentiful,
I will briefly refer to the tyrant, Fashion. Men wore tight pants,
two inches longer behind than before. In front they were cut away so
as to expose the instep, and were fastened down under the boot with
a pantaloon strap, and it was no small job to get the pants off. The
coat had a collar quilted to give it stiffness, and was, behind, about
four inches broad, and one could not throw his head back and well enjoy
a merry laugh. Then in front they wore as neck gear a _stock_, yes a
_stock_ about as comfortable as those public ones used for punishing
criminals. These stocks were nearly four inches wide, consisting of a
pad of bristles of the hog, fashioned to fit the neck, and were covered
with dark silks or satin. The lower part rested on the collar bone, and
the upper supported the head aloft while the shirt collar cut the ears.
It was "heads up, eyes to the front," and one seldom saw his boots.
Young men could not cross their legs when sitting in a chair without
accident. John Pope, better known as Gen. Pope, when on furlough
returned to West Point with nice linen pants, with straps at the bottom
and open down the front, which was found very convenient for a soldier
who had to wear a waist belt; and although it shocked the sense of
propriety of some maidenly ladies, it caught the eye of Maj. Richard
Delafield, Superintendent of the Academy. His hobbies were economy and
practical utility. He saw the advantage of Pope's breeches over the
broad flap buttoned at the side, and notwithstanding the protest of
Mrs. Delafield--who was reported to have said "the cadets thus dressed
should not come in person to the house with their account books for
orders"--and other ladies, that stern old soldier gave the tailor
permission to make the cadet pants open in front, and that consigned to
oblivion the broad flap pants. West Point then, as the Prince of Wales
now, set the fashions; Pope's pattern of breeches are now worn by all
Christian men, and some that are not of that religion.
Out of all the students that were at the academy in Burlington, I know
of but one living now, Gen. W. W. H. Davis, of Doylestown, Pa. He was
aid to Gen. Cushing during the Mexican war, and a general in the Union
army during the late war between the States.
After my appointment as a cadet I made no preparation for the
examination for admission to the Academy, because I had no doubt of
being able to meet the mental examination, for I had mastered nearly
every elementary branch of mathematics, including navigation and
Hutton's recreations in mathematics. I never understood or realized
the "recreation" concealed in that volume. Recreation, however, is
very often a matter of taste. There was a young officer on my staff,
W. T. Freeman, who found recreation in going on every expedition,
demonstration, or fight that was on hand; and that good soldier,
Gen. Richard S. Ewell, often would seek recreation by a visit to the
picket line to see what the "Yanks" were doing. Taste will differ, you
observe.
When the time was near at hand for me to report at West Point, some
of my Quaker aunts came to see me. They had gotten pretty well over
the belief that the British would kill me, or that we would soon have
another war with England. Our relatives were numerous about Trenton,
Evesham, Red Bank, Billingsport, and all the region around, and stories
of the old war were common. I will relate but one: When Count Donop,
with his six battalions of Hessians, came down through Haddonfield to
capture the fortifications on the Delaware river at Red Bank, a Hessian
soldier strayed away from the ranks, and, entering the back yard, came
up to the back porch of a farmer's dwelling. There was a churn (in form
a truncated cone--that is, it was big at the bottom and small at the
top); and moreover, it contained fresh buttermilk. The poor fellow took
up the churn and was enjoying a drink when a stout servant girl, coming
to the door, took in the situation at a glance, and, instead of crying
"Murder," she took hold of the bottom of the churn, raised it up, and
thrust it down quickly over his head. It was a tight fit, and as he
could not remove the churn he was captured, hid away, and delivered
to the garrison after the defeat of Donop's troops. Donop was killed.
Often and often I wandered over Red Bank and Billingsport when a boy,
sitting down on the great iron cannon strewn all around, meditating on
war.
I now bade adieu to good Quaker uncles and aunts (I say good--yes, more
deserving, truthful, honest people than the Quakers cannot be found,
for they are all good) and father and mother, and took the stage for
Philadelphia, thence by the Camden and Amboy railroad went to New York.
The two great hotels in New York then were the Astor House and the
American.
I felt lonely in the city crowd, and, strolling "down Broadway," heard
the noise of voices in a hall, or perhaps it was in a church, so I
went in, and soon the orator exclaimed, "It presented to the world
the first instance of a Church without a bishop," upon which great
applause followed, which I did not comprehend, and at the same time an
elderly gentleman rose up and left the stage, causing some commotion.
By the papers I learned that they were celebrating their New England
dinner, that the orator was Rufus Choate, and the indignant gentleman
was Bishop Wainwright, all of which led to a long and bitter newspaper
controversy. Leaving New York City, I went by steamer up the Hudson
river to my place of destination at the foot of the Catskill Mountains,
then robed in purple from the setting sun.
I shall never forget my voyage on the Hudson when life was young
and all was bright and fair, and hope imparted a feeling of joy and
gladness to all my environments. There were several candidates for
admission to the Academy at the hotel. In the morning when I came
down to breakfast I chanced to take a seat beside a smart-looking,
black-eyed boy, and, finding him not inquisitive, I remarked to him, "I
suppose you have a cadet appointment;" and in the twinkle of an eye he
answered my question by exclaiming, "May I ask you the same question?"
I was amazed, but reverting to his reply, I calmly and deliberately
told him that his inquiry would be responded to first, and then he
could answer mine at his leisure. That boy was from Connecticut. He
graduated second in his class; his name is George Deshon; he is a
Jesuit father, Redemptorist, and Paulist, and resides in New York City,
spending his life for the good of a fallen race.
I was having a pleasant rest at the hotel, and had been there two or
three days when an orderly made his appearance with an order for all
the candidates for admission to report at headquarters. Frederick
Steele, J. J. Booker, and I were assigned to a room in the south
barracks.
I cannot recall to mind much about the examination; I only remember
Capt. W. W. S. Bliss asking us some questions in a polite manner,
and then dismissing us. In due time we went into camp. J. J. Peck,
Vandergrift, and I were assigned to Company D, and occupied the same
tent.
As the State of New Jersey was not divided into congressional districts
at that time, it did not matter in what part of the State an applicant
resided. There were four vacancies in the State, and they were filled
by appointing Isaac F. Quinby, Shotwell, Vandergrift, and myself.
Shotwell and Vandergrift left the Academy.
During the encampment Senator G. W. Wall came to the Point on a visit,
and had all four of us call to see him. He expressed much interest in
us, and gave us good advice, as he was personally interested in our
success and welfare.
I carried with me to West Point a letter of introduction to John F.
Reynolds, of Pennsylvania, who, as general in the Union Army, was
killed the first day at Gettysburg. In his death the Federal army
sustained an almost irreparable loss. He was a soldier of marked
ability; kind, and, above all, was well loved, and the highest position
in the service awaited him without his seeking it. He was ever kind to
me, and later on, during the Mexican war, I was intimately associated
with him. The officers of Bragg's Battery of Monterey were G. H.
Thomas, J. F. Reynolds, and myself, and Reynolds and I occupied the
same tent, and I never knew him to speak an unkind word.
Cadet life at the Academy has often been described, and it is so well
known that I shall pass it by save with a few remarks. In the first
squad of cavalry Grant, when a cadet at West Point, rode the horse that
could jump a pole, one end against the wall about seven feet high while
the other end was held by a soldier over the top of his head. In the
second squad of our class Cave J. Couts rode the same animal. I never
envied them their enjoyment, yet I rode a horse (properly named Vixen)
that would go around the ring at a speed that would have distanced Tam
O'Shanter's mare when she crossed the bridge of Doon and lost her tail.
One day as our section in mathematics was marching to recitation hall
Frank Gardner produced an old silver-cased watch about four inches in
diameter. It, as a curiosity, was passed along from one boy to another
to examine; it chanced to be in Grant's hands as we reached the door
of the recitation room, and he slipped it under his coat bosom and
buttoned it up. The regular professor was absent, and cadet Zealous B.
Tower occupied his chair. He sent four cadets to the blackboards, Grant
being one. Grant had solved his problem and begun his demonstration,
when all of a sudden the room was filled with a sound not unlike a
Chinese gong. All looked amazed, and Tower, thinking the noise was
in the hall, ordered the door closed, and that only made the matter
worse. Grant, with a sober countenance, had the floor to demonstrate.
When the racket ceased the recitation proceeded. Tower had no idea
whence the noise came. Gardner had set the alarm in that antique piece
of furniture concealed in Grant's bosom, and it went off. Tower's
bewilderment and Grant's sobriety afforded us much amusement, which we
could not manifest until we got outdoors, and roared with laughter.
Of all the cadets in our class, I believe I. F. Quinby possessed the
most profound and the brightest intellect. It was scarcely necessary
for him to study a mathematical proposition. One day, thinking he would
not be "called up," he had not opened the text-book. However, Prof.
Mahan sent him to the blackboard, and announced a proposition for him
to demonstrate. In due time he faced the Professor ready to begin.
He demonstrated the proposition in an original manner, frequently
interrupted by the Professor, who failed to follow his reasoning,
and would not admit the proof to be conclusive. Then cadet William F.
Raynolds said: "Mr. Mahan, Mr. Quinby is right; I was attentive, and
followed him all through." The result was Quinby wrote out his mode
of demonstration and Raynolds handed it to the Professor next day, and
the proof was conclusive. Professors are not inclined to have students
deviate from the text-books. One day Grant failed to name the signs
of the Zodiac, aries, taurus, gemini, etc., so I was asked, some time
after, to repeat them, which I did as follows:
The Ram, the Bull, the Heavenly Twins, next the Crab the Lion
shines, the Virgin and the Scales,
The Scorpion, Archer, and the Goat, the Man who carries the
watering pot, and Fish with glittering tails.
and was told to translate it into the language of the text-book.
Professors were not dependent on patronage, and there was no marked
degrees of partiality shown any cadets. Prof. Wier kept one of my
paintings in water colors that I regretted very much. One day, years
after, I asked President Grant if he would not have the War Department
issue an order to have it returned to me, and he said: "Certainly, and
you may have any of _mine_ that are there." He knew I well understood
the humor in the remark about his paintings. However, I neglected to
write to him and thus secure my picture. When I visited the Academy in
1881 I saw it hanging on the walls (and it is there now). Those that
I left at my mother's in Woodbury, N. J., were confiscated and sold by
the United States marshal, and this would have shared the same fate had
it been there. After the Confederate war ended some of these paintings
were returned to me. Such acts of kindness I appreciated.
When we entered the first class, as usual, we had accorded us the
privilege of purchasing of the sutler, Mr. John DeWitt, many articles
that were denied the junior classes. Owing to some of the class not
being properly treated, the following document was drawn up, to wit:
We, the undersigned, do hereby agree that we will purchase
nothing from John DeWitt after this date, except what we have
already ordered, or whatever is absolutely necessary, the
reason being supposed manifest to every one.
JOHN H. GRELAND,
C. J. COUTS,
ISAAC F. QUINBY,
N. ETTING,
R. S. RIPLEY,
GEORGE STEVENS,
G. DESHON,
F. T. DENT,
HENRY F. CLARK,
J. H. POTTER,
R. HAZLETT,
HENRY M. JUDAH,
W. K. VAN BOKKELEN,
GEORGE C. MCCLELLAND,
U. H. GRANT,
C. G. MERCHANT,
J. JONES REYNOLDS,
L. NEILL,
JOHN PRESTON JOHNSTON,
J. J. PECK,
H. R. SELDON,
A. CROZET,
F. GARDNER,
L. B. WOODS,
T. L. CHADBOURNE,
E. HOWE,
S. G. FRENCH,
J. C. MCFERREN,
RUFUS INGALLS,
W. B. FRANKLIN,
JOSEPH ASFORDD,
West Point, April 15, 1843.
To explain this _boycott_ I copy a letter from Gen Rufus Ingalls to
Gen. Isaac F. Quinby, sent to me by the latter when he received it.
Quinby's familiar name was "Nykin."
PORTLAND, OREGON, September 16, 1889.
_My Dear "Nykin:"_ Your letter surprised me most joyously. I
was thinking of you constantly and lovingly. Do not give up.
Let us _live_ to the last possible hour. I hope to meet you
this fall--late perhaps. I came here two years ago to stay
three months, and here I am! I have had a "monkey and parrot
time of it," as these slips[3] will only partially disclose.
Read them at leisure. But I am now booming in luck, ... and
I expect to save some money out of the wreck for myself and
pretty wards. But what a fight all alone for it!
I am robust, never better. Habits perfect; fact. Why not at
70? Did we not cut old DeWitt because he caused some of us
to be reported? How is Hamilton? Write me, dear "Nykin." Nail
your flag high up, and don't regard dark clouds.
Very affectionately,
RUFUS.
Gen. Quinby, Rochester, N. Y.
My dear, good Rufus! How I recall the many happy days we have passed
together! My love for you was like unto Jonathan's for David, and you
have gone and left me, gone to your long home. Yet I can see you now.
I can see you at the card table having "fun" even though the "time be
4 A.M." There always was mirth when Ingalls was present. He was the
prince of good fellows; ever cheerful, never selfish, full of quaint
humor, and was wont to "set the table in a roar."
There is a story related of him that runs in this way: One night in the
spring of 1865 at City Point Grant and staff were sitting around their
camp fire. Conversation had lapsed into silence, which after a while
was suddenly broken by Grant exclaiming: "Ingalls, do you expect to
take that yellow dog of yours into Richmond with you?" "O yes, General,
he belongs to a _long life_ breed," was Ingalls's sober reply. Silence
returned, but there were sides ready to burst with suppressed laughter.
Ingalls possessed a brilliant mind. Grant states that, had it become
necessary to change the commander of the Army of the Potomac, he would
have given it to Ingalls. When at last Lee's weak lines were broken at
Petersburg, and certain corps commanders said they could not pursue
Lee, Ingalls whispered to Grant, "If you do not order an immediate
pursuit, you will be a ruined man; I will have supplies on hand;" and
the army was ordered to move at once in pursuit. This was told me by
Gen. Frederick Steele in 1865.
But to return to the boycott, I find this matter in the newspapers
of the day, and it is termed the oldest boycott known. I have copied
the signatures from a newspaper article to correct some of the errors
it contained; and I would observe that I cannot recall any member
of our class named Joseph Asfordd. About the signature of Gen. Grant
having been written U. H. Grant, we all knew that Gen. Harmer obtained
him the appointment, and that his real name was U. H. Grant, but the
appointment called for U. S. Grant, and he entered the Academy as U.
S. Grant, and was usually called "Uncle Sam Grant." Poor Stevens, who
it appears had this document in his possession, I saw drowned in the
waters of the Rio Grande when at the head of a squad of dragoons he
attempted to swim the river. The paper was, I presume as stated, sent
home with his effects, and the original, or facsimile, is now hung
up in the War Department in Washington City. Of those who signed it,
there are now living only four, Father Deshon, J. J. Reynolds, W. B.
Franklin, and your father, who is now writing this; and if I write two
other names, Gens. C. C. Auger and W. F. Raynolds, you have the names
of the six surviving members of our class in 1893.[4]
The class of 1843 is remarkable in one respect. So far as my
investigations have extended, every one of the class living in 1861
entered the military service, except Father Deshon; all obtained the
rank of general save one. In no class did all the graduates enter the
service, nor did those in the armies obtain uniformly such high rank as
the class of 1843.
When the encampment ends, and the cadets go into quarters and study
commences, the fourth class is formed into sections, taking their
names alphabetically. If they desire twelve cadets in the first
section, commencing at the A's and B's they go on down until twelve
are obtained; the second and other sections are formed in the same way;
study and recitation begins, and the struggle commences. At the end of
a week some are transferred up to the first and second sections, and
others down; and this continues until every one settles to the rank he
merits, or at least to the rank his studies entitle him to.
High class standing is not conclusive evidence of preëminent ability
as a commander. Of all the positions that mortal man has occupied on
earth, that of a great captain requires a combination of _more_ of
the rare gifts that God occasionally bestows on man, each differing
in character and quality, than any other profession. In him they must
_all_ be balanced and in harmony. He must be a great organizer, and
a skilled administrator; possessed of courage, untiring energy, and
keep the one great purpose in view, crushing every obstacle in the
way to its accomplishment. His powers of combination must be made with
mathematical precision; his knowledge of the country correct, and at
a glance comprehend the field of action; instant to detect an error
made by his antagonist, and prompt to avail himself of it; intuitive
knowledge of character, acute in discovering men's motives, faultless
in reasoning to enable him to fathom the designs of the enemy, and
maneuver so as to defeat them. Then comes the prestige of victory,
confidence in his success, love for his person; and the army in his
hands is as obedient to him as the ship to her helm, and will breast
the tempest, be it never so high. From Moses down history does not
mention the names of as many great soldiers, for whom "the stars in
their courses fought," as there are fingers on a man's hand, and the
star of Austerlitz, I think, guided the greatest of them all.
"He who ascends to mountain tops shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapped in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind
Must look down on the hate of those below."
I make no reference to heartlessness or selfishness, I speak only of
great intellects and boundless ambition that impels the man on, on,
upward, till crowns become baubles, and kings who wear them are moved
on the world's stage, and traded off like those on the chessboard, who
would subjugate the earth, and then sigh for other worlds to conquer.
There is a moral in the lives of some of the most renowned captains.
Joshua had trouble with his tribes; Alexander died from excess of
drinking in Babylon; Hannibal, living in exile, took poison to escape
being surrendered to the Romans; Pompey, thrice a consul, thrice
honored with a triumph, master of the world, was assassinated on
Egypt's barren strand and left without a handful of the earth (of all
the world he once possessed) to cover his remains; Cæsar was murdered
in the senate chamber; Cortez died in poverty in Seville, neglected
by his sovereign; Napoleon ended his days a prisoner in exile on a
desert island; "Stonewall" Jackson, in the zenith of his glory, was
accidentally killed by his own troops; R. E. Lee died, after declining
many honors, the president of a university in Virginia; Grant, more
fortunate, became President of the United States. Yet his life in after
years was embittered by his confidence in dishonest bankers, which
trouble, preying on his mind, shortened his days.
CHAPTER II.
Graduation--Commissioned Brevet Second Lieutenant, U. S.
A.--Ordered to Fort Macon, N. C.--Goldsboro--Journey to
Beaufort--Officers at the Fort--Life in a Casemate--Stormy
Atlantic--That Oyster Supper--The Wandering Cot--Adieu to
Fort Macon--Journey to Washington--Lieuts. George H. Thomas
and John Pope--Weldon, N. C.--Go to West Point--Prof.
Morse--First Dispatch--Hope Club, Washington--Dinner
Given by Surgeon General Lawson--Appointed Aid to Gen.
Scott--British Gold--Col. S. Churchill--Integrity of Old
Army Officers--Leave Washington for Fort McHenry--Society in
Baltimore--Chief Justice Taney.
I believe it was on the 9th day of June, 1843, the examinations ended,
we bade adieu to old Fort Putnam, the Crow's Nest, the Dunderburg, the
halls, the lovers' walk, the professors, in short to West Point and all
that it contained, and took passage on a steamer on the ever-beautiful
Hudson for New York City. A new life was opened to us, the wide world
was before us, and we believed we were equal to all environments,
and anxious for the strife; and, if I possess a correct power of
retrospection, we generally had a higher opinion of ourselves _then_
than we have had _since_ in the battle of life, amid joy and sorrow,
hopes and disappointment, praise and detraction, sordid avarice and
the little trust in the sincerity of man. In the course of time we
comprehended that "all is not gold that glitters."
In a day or two we began to separate for our homes, and I bade farewell
to some whose faces I never saw again. When the assignments to the
army were made, in July following, I was notified that I had been
commissioned a brevet second lieutenant in the United States army and
assigned to Company --, Third Regiment of Artillery, then stationed at
Fort Macon, N. C.
I was ordered to report for duty by the first day of October. Bidding
good-by to all at home, I started for Beaufort, N. C., Fort Macon being
on an island opposite to the town. I traveled by way of Baltimore,
Washington, Richmond, and Petersburg to Goldsboro; thence by stagecoach
to New Berne and Beaufort.
The journey was made without incident of note. On the train there was a
spruce individual from New York City on his way to Charleston. Some one
had alarmed him very much about "malaria," and he cautioned me against
rising in the morning until after the sun had dissipated the poisonous
vapors of the night. The consequence was I remained in bed at the
hotel in Goldsboro, waiting for the mist to rise before I did, until I
heard the stage horn calling for passengers, and I came near getting no
breakfast. But the driver was one of those happy-go-easy fellows, who
said: "I am in no haste; go and get your breakfast."
That New York man had alarmed me to such a degree that when a courtly
old gentleman came to the stage door with a large basket of scuppernong
grapes and requested me to take charge of them to Beaufort, bidding me
partake of them bountifully by the way, I thought death was concealed
in that basket as the asp was in the one given to Cleopatra. I was the
only passenger. After a while I consulted the driver, who was on the
box outside, as to the danger of eating grapes in that bilious country,
and he assured me there was none. So timidly I took one and found it
"was good for food" like the apple in the garden of Eden, and in spite
of fears I partook of them freely.
When I arrived in Beaufort I found there to meet me Lieut. C.
Q. Tompkins, and I sailed with him over to the fort. One company
constituted the garrison. The officers were Capt. W. Wall, Lieuts.
Tompkins and E. O. C. Ord, Dr. Glenn, and Capt. J. H. Trapier, engineer
officer. The company was composed of old soldiers and required but
little drilling, and so our duties were light. I spent most of my time
sailing on the sound and fishing. The waters teemed with fish, and both
game and oysters were abundant.
There had been a report that the company would soon be ordered to Fort
McHenry, Baltimore, and all were anxious to leave the place, for they
had been stationed there over two years.
As time passed on they expected by every mail the order for them
to leave, but it came not. However, one evening toward the close of
November when we were enjoying a good supper, Mingo, the best of old
colored servants, announced the arrival of the day's mail, and placed
all the letters before Capt. Wall. Opening a ten-inch buff envelope
from the War Department, he took therefrom a letter, and as he glanced
over it a smile played over his countenance, observed by all. Ord
exclaimed: "That is the order for Fort McHenry!" Dr. Glenn bet wine
with Ord that it was not; and while the bets were being arranged Capt.
Wall handed the letter to me. I read it with surprise; it was an order
for me to proceed to Washington City and report to the Board preparing
the artillery tactics, composed of Maj. John Munroe, Capts. Francis
Taylor and Robert Anderson. There was dejection of spirits on the faces
of all present; but Ord rose with the occasion, and ordered Mingo to
have three bushels of oysters in the shell prepared, and to bring on
the accompaniments. I left them late at the table and retired to my
casemate room, and I avow to this day that some invisible spirit seemed
to move my cot around the room. Round and round it went. I leaned
against the table in the middle of the room and enjoyed the circus for
a while, but the cot would not grow weary. After some vain attempts I
caught it as it passed by, threw myself on it, the light burned dim,
and I fell asleep.
But O the vivid recollections of the wild, incoherent dreams of that
night, the aching head and quickened pulse. Childish scenes arose. I
was at the home of my childhood. I was crossing the Delaware river on
the ice, as in days of yore, and was carried away on a floating cake.
It was dark, and no one heard me cry for help. Then I was at a hotel,
and a girl, once so lovely, on whom I lavished all the love of a child,
came in to dine. She was old, ugly, and changed, and I gazed on her in
horror. Next I was in command of a fort on the banks of a river, and
British ships of war were coming up; they opened fire, and I ordered
our guns to reply, and not one could be fired; in vain the gunners
worked while the fleet passed by, and I cried in agony of mind. Like a
kaleidoscope the vision changed. I became an essence of the Creator of
the universe, and the universe was heaven. A spirit robed in white was
with me. Gravitation was destroyed, and we moved with the rapidity of
thought, past the moon, past the sun, past the stars. Whither I wished
we went. Bright suns were on all sides, above and below, rolling in
silence in the infinite ethereal spaces which had no center and were
without bounds. When I asked what power held all these worlds in a
relative position no answer came. I was alone! Phantoms of a burning
brain! I was at West Point again, in Kosciusko's garden, walking on
the banks of the Hudson. I saw a cave and entered it, and immediately
a rock weighing tons dropped down and closed the entrance. A passage
led to another chamber, and again came a vast rock and closed it. I
was now in darkness in a vaulted cave, shut in from the world and all
the worlds that were shown me. As I sat down on a rock in despair, a
ray of light was seen through a crevice in the rocks. Hope came to my
relief. The passage was small. After I had got partly through, my body,
in fright, began to swell, and I could neither go on nor get back.
Breathing had nearly ceased, and I could not cry for help, or move hand
or foot.
From this condition I was awakened. The vision bore away, and I found
myself lying on my cot, and an old hag that had assumed the form of
a peculiar cat was standing on me holding me down on my back. Her
body was a part of a broomstick; her legs were rounds of a chair with
wire hinges at the joints; her head was like three sticks forming a
triangle, with ends projecting for ears. Her countenance was like a
cat's. Her forefeet were on my chest pressing it down so that I could
scarcely breathe, while her savage eyes glowed with rage in my face. I
was awake and remembered that circulation of the blood would relieve me
from this horrible nightmare. I gave my body a sudden turn, the blood
rushed through my veins, the witch flew through the window, and the day
was dawning. My head was swimming like a buoy on the water.
The elixirs of Cagliostro, the preparations of Paracelsus, the use of
_hashish_ of the Mohammedans, never produced visions or dreams more
strange and painful than did that, my first and unwilling trial of old
"Monongahela."
I drew a moral from my experience on that occasion, and have never
forgotten it. May you draw a good one from it also!
The next morning the officers accompanied me to the landing. Bidding
them good-by, I got in the boat and sailed over to Beaufort. My stay at
Fort Macon was pleasant, and I was not overjoyed to leave the place.
I could lie on that treacherous cot and be lulled to sleep by the
ever-murmuring sea, or awakened by the thundering waves of the stormy
Atlantic that seemed to make the island tremble at the shock; and I
could tell at night by the lightning's "red glare" and the breaker's
roar when a storm was moving on over the Gulf Stream.
The casemate used for a magazine adjoined mine, and in it were stored
many thousand pounds of powder, and the lightning rods did not quiet
all my fears when those violent thunderstorms passed over the island.
Along the shore near Cape Lookout these violent winds had buried large
pine forests in sand ridges.
Well, I journeyed back to New Berne alone in the same Concord
stagecoach I came in, and remained there all night.
I now began to observe the difference in manners, customs, and
deportment of the Southern people from the people in the North. I shall
refer to this, perhaps, farther on. I noticed that the outer door
to the general lounging room was never shut. The weather was cold;
servants piled on the hearth pine wood in abundance, till the flames
roared up the chimney; men came in and men went out, and never a door
was closed.
After supper the landlord drew up a chair near mine, close by the
bright fire, and we entered into a conversation about the people and
the surrounding country.
A negro servant came in to replace the fuel and departed, and I
availed myself of the occasion to ask the landlord for what purpose
doors were made, and he was amazed at my want of information on such
common affairs. I think I demonstrated to him that to keep the doors
closed would be economy in fuel and comfort to his guests. He must
have been convinced, for in the morning I found the servants closed
the doors when passing in and out. This custom of open doors prevailed
generally in the South. When I boarded the train at Goldsboro, among
the passengers were two officers that were at the Academy whilst I was
there, George H. Thomas and John Pope. As Thomas was on a visit to his
home in Southampton County, Va., on the line of the Weldon and Norfolk
railroad, he persuaded Pope and myself to go on with him and take the
steamer from Portsmouth to Baltimore instead of the route by Richmond;
and so we remained all night in Weldon. The weather was cold and the
ground covered with snow, and the accommodations miserable. I little
thought then that I would be destined, nineteen years after, to sleep
there again with snow on the ground and a tent for shelter, but so it
was. On the way to Norfolk the rails were covered with frost and the
driving wheels slipped so that we all had to get out the cars and help
push the train over a slight ascent to a bridge. There was not much
comfort on the trains in those days.
On reaching Washington I reported to the Board of Artillery. They
handed to me the manuscript of work to be published, and directed me to
prepare drawings of horses, harness, guns, gun carriages, and all the
maneuvers of the battery to be illustrated by plates.
I was engaged in the performance of this duty from the early part
of December, 1843, to November 12, 1844. When the drawings were
all finished, there were added drawings of all heavy guns, their
carriages, implements, etc., and I am pleased to state that the Board,
after comparing them with the manuscript, accepted them without the
alteration of a line, letter, or dot.
I went to West Point to make the drawings for the horse artillery.
During the latter part of my stay there I occupied a room at Mrs.
Kinsley's. Lieut. John Newton, W. S. Rosecrans, William Gilham, and W.
R. Johnston also had quarters there. They were on duty as assistant
professors in the Academy. From West Point I returned to Washington
and made the plates of the heavy artillery. Thence in September I
went to meet the Board at Old Point Comfort. Gen. John B. Walbach was
in command of the post, a gallant old German who entered our army in
1799. A large number of officers were on duty there. The hotel was
filled with beauty and fashion; and, as I had nothing special to do,
I was free to join in the amusements the locality afforded. From Old
Point Comfort I returned to Washington early in November, 1844. During
the summer of this year, and whilst the Democratic convention was in
session in Baltimore, Prof. Morse invited Lieut. I. F. Quinby and me
to ride with him to the capital to test the telegraph line built from
Washington to Baltimore by act of Congress. On arriving at the capital
the Professor signaled to the operator in Baltimore, and in a short
time the following message was received by him:
Convention not in session now. Polk stock in the ascendency.
Douglass now addressing the people.
Or words to that effect; and this was the first telegram ever sent
in the United States. I have seen it stated that the first message
_announced the nomination_. That must be an error, because the one he
received was before the nomination had been made.[5]
From Washington I was ordered to join my company at Fort McHenry.
That order to leave Fort Macon, and about which so much anxiety was
manifested when I left there, was afterwards received and the company
moved accordingly. Maj. Samuel Ringgold was in command of the post,
and among the officers were Randolph Ridgely, W. H. Shover, Abner
Doubleday, E. O. C. Ord, and G. W. Ayers, and P. G. T. Beauregard was
the engineer officer.
Fort McHenry, at this time, was considered one of the most desirable
posts to be stationed at in the whole country.
During the autumn and winter there was a great deal of gayety in
Baltimore, and some of the officers of the post were generally at the
balls and parties given. The ladies of Baltimore from their ancestors
inherited beauty; and from their environments naturally acquired
retiring manners, low and sweet voices, gentleness, attractive grace;
and, conscious from childhood of their social position, they were
sprightly, exhibited hauteur to none, and moved in the mazy dance so
courtly, so slow, and "courtesied with a grace that belonged to an age
in the long, long ago."
On one occasion a masked and fancy dress ball was given by a gentleman
with whom I was not acquainted, to which many of the élite of the city
were invited. A description of that ball which was promptly published
in the New York _Herald_ created much excitement. The writer, not
content with describing dresses and characters represented, touched
truthfully some tender points peculiar to each individual. There were
many accused of the authorship, and all denied it. Rewards were offered
for the discovery of the writer. No one thought it could have been done
by any person not present at the ball, but so it was. Only two persons
could name the writer.
I went with him, about two days after the publication, the round of
morning calls, and we had much enjoyment at the criticisms made by
the ladies. Many were indignant; others enjoyed it. Some equivocal
expressions had been used in reference to one young lady. She first
shed tears; then, smiling, said: "Well, I would rather be described
as it was written than not to be mentioned at all." The writer was a
promising young lawyer, long since in his grave. I have not seen the
other confidant since the war. He was in the Confederate army.
One of the most accomplished young ladies in Baltimore was Miss
Charlotte R. She belonged to no "circle," but was beloved by all. Among
her admirers at that time were Chevalier Hulseman, _Charge d'Affairs_
for Austria, Lieut. Ord, and myself. Two years after, on the banks of
the Rio Grande, before a battle that was inevitable, I sat by a fire
and committed to the flames letters that I did not intend should be
read by any one, and, being alone, perchance some were moistened by a
tear.
My father was in politics a Whig, and firmly believed Gen. Jackson
deserved to be shot for hanging Arburthnot and Ambriester when he
took possession of Florida; and he thought Roger B. Taney no better
than a robber because he removed the government deposits from the
United States Bank. Now among the pleasant families that I visited
at this time in Baltimore was that of Chief Justice Taney, a man so
kind, gentle in manner, so plain and unpretending at his home, that
I wondered to what extent a venal party press would vilify a pure and
honest man who faithfully interpreted the law.[6]
While in Washington in 1843 I made my home at the "Hope Club," a club
composed mainly of unmarried army officers permanently stationed, or
at least on duty there. Gen. George Gibson, Commissary General, was
the president of the club. He was one of the best men I ever met;
kind and considerate of the feelings of every one, a gentleman of
the olden time, a man of patience and unruffled temper. He and Judge
Bibb, Secretary of the Treasury, would go to the long bridge and fish
all day for a minnow, or even a nibble. Capt. J. C. Casey was the
Treasurer. He was a very entertaining man, and had more influence with
the Seminole Indians than any one connected with the government. He was
a commissary, and they had abiding faith in him because, as they said,
"he told them no lies."
One day on taking my seat at dinner I turned up my plate and found
under it a note from Surgeon General Thomas Lawton inviting me in the
evening to dine with him. As I saw no one else had an invitation, and
I was only a lieutenant, I was not inclined to go alone, but Gen.
Gibson, Casey, and others told me to go by all means. At this time
Lieut. Thomas Williams came in and found an invitation also, and it was
decided we would go.
The Doctor had a dinner of thirteen courses, provided by the prince
of restaurant caterers. The wines were old and rare. The guests were
Gen. Scott, Commander in Chief of the Army; Col. Sylvester Churchill,
Inspector General; Lieut. Williams, and myself. Scott, Churchill, and
the Doctor discussed the war of 1812 on the Canadian line, and the
battles fought there; told how once they had so many prisoners and
so few to guard them that they cut the suspenders of the prisoners
to prevent their escape so easily, as it required one hand to hold
their breeches up. I remember another that shows there must have
been a good feeling between the officers on either side. Maj. Lomax,
for some purpose, was sent to the British camp; and when he returned
he was eagerly asked what news he had. "News! why there is British
gold, yes, British gold in this camp." That seemed to imply treason,
and an explanation was demanded, and it was given when Lomax from
his pockets covered the table with English sovereigns. He had been
entertained cordially by the British officers. The dinner did not end
until midnight. Gen. Scott drank sherry only, except when sampling some
choice wines that the Doctor bid the butler open. Col. Churchill was in
fine humor, and partly
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
At last the hour arrived to leave; then Gen. Scott, raising himself
to his full height, and either impressed with the importance of the
occasion, or thinking perhaps he was again at Lundy's Lane, "ordered
his own aid, Lieut. Williams, to conduct Col. Churchill to his
home, declaring it was not prudent for him to venture in the streets
unprotected." Then turning to me with much dignity, he announced: "And
I appoint Lieut. French a special aid to accompany me to my residence."
The streets were deserted and silent, and the walk short. Taking his
arm, I went with him to his home, rang the bell, and his servant met
him at the door, and there my services as aid terminated. In after days
and after years he was ever considerate and kind to me. The conqueror
lives, but the man is dead. But O how pleasant the recollection of the
times when those pure and knightly men with generous hearts, untouched
by avarice, never closed the "door of mercy on mankind." Such men were
Gens. Scott, Jesup, Gibson, Towson, Lawson, Totten, Abert, Cooper, and
others. Then men served God and their country rather than mammon. The
maddening, wild, and frantic rush for wealth was unknown, and life was
one of enjoyment without extravagance.
CHAPTER III.
Death of Hon. A. P. Upshur, Secretary of State--Calhoun
Appointed--Treaty of Annexation of Texas--Declaration of
the State of Massachusetts--Texas Accepts the Resolution
of Annexation--Formation of Army of Occupation--Transferred
to Maj. S. Ringgold's Battery of Horse Artillery--Officers
Sail for Aransas Pass--The Wicked Captain--Becalmed--Cross
Bahama Banks--Key West--Out of Drinking Water--Fare on
Board Ship--Storm--Aransas Pass--St. Joseph's Island--Maj.
Ringgold's Cook--Embark for Corpus Christi--Game and
Fish--Horse Racing--White Horse of the Prairies--Trip to San
Antonio--The Town--Incidents of the Trip.
At this time there was being discussed by the public a matter that was
destined soon to put an end to the pleasant life we were leading here.
After the death of Abel P. Upshur, Secretary of State, John C. Calhoun
was appointed to fill the vacancy, and the question of the admission
of Texas as a State was discussed, and on the 12th of April a treaty
of annexation was signed by him; and it was rejected by the Senate of
the United States. So bitter was the feeling that, notwithstanding the
purchase of Louisiana and Florida [and Alaska since], Massachusetts,
through her Legislature, declared that Congress had no right or power
to admit a foreign State or Territory into the Union; and that if Texas
was admitted it _would not be binding on her_. By this Massachusetts
made a declaration which the State could not carry out without
_seceding_ from the Union, yet she seceded not.
Soon after the inauguration of Mr. Polk as President a resolution for
annexation was passed by Congress, and on June 23, 1845, Texas accepted
the resolution, and became a State in the Union December 29.
It became evident now, when Texas accepted the resolution, that the
government would be obliged to defend the new State from invasion by
Mexico, and the army officers were anxious to go to the frontier to
defend the boundary of the country. To meet the threats of Mexico,
an army of occupation was gradually formed at Corpus Christi. When
the order came for Maj. Ringgold's battery of horse artillery to
be in readiness to move, and the Adjutant General came over to Fort
McHenry to transfer some of Capt. Wall's men to Ringgold's company, I
asked Ringgold if he wished me to go with him. Taking me by the hand,
he exclaimed, "My dear fellow, yes;" and, turning to the Adjutant
General, he asked him to make the transfer and 'twas done, and I made
preparations to leave.
The ship Hermann was chartered, and the horses, to the number of
one hundred and fifty, were put on board the ship between decks, in
temporary stalls, secured by broad canvas bands under their bodies to
prevent them from being thrown from their feet by the motion of the
vessel. The company officers were Ringgold, Ridgely, Shover, Fremont,
and myself. The officers left in the fort were Wall, Tompkins, and Ord.
After we left, this company was ordered to California. W. T. Sherman
was with it; and they were quiet on the shore of the Pacific during the
war. I met Ord once after the war in Washington. His hobby then was the
Australian boomerang. He took me to a room, about sixty by forty, to
show me how he could throw them to the end of the room and make them
come back and fall at his feet. He was studying out some machine to
discharge them rapidly and thereby fill the air with scythe blades to
cut off the heads of an enemy, and every boomerang that did not strike
an enemy was to return to the fort. I could not see why this boomerang,
when it returned, would not injure the person that sent it. And thus it
is; we all have some hobby on hand, but fortunately most of them are
as harmless as Ord's boomerang, except we cannot get off this kind of
a horse and rest and sleep as we do from a real horse.
The day came when the cry was heard: "All on board." "Farewell," the
parting word of friends, was spoken, the lines cast off, and the ship
passed down the Patapsco river to Chesapeake Bay, to the Atlantic. The
voyage to Aransas Pass was tedious and not particularly eventful. The
captain was a scoundrel and a sinner. I found amusement in going aloft
and sitting in the foretop surveying the ocean's wide expanse without
intrusion. When we neared the Bahamas we were becalmed nine days, and
the wicked captain would lie on his back and curse even his Creator.
I had, as well as the captain, made all the observations for latitude
and time, to compare with his. We reached the "Hole in the Wall" about
sunset, and I made a sketch of it; passed Great Stirrup-cay light about
10 P.M. At 2 A.M. the captain and mate came into our cabin, where his
chart was on the table, and he tried to impress on the mate that the
light ahead was the Florida light; that he had crossed the Gulf Stream
and was nearing the Florida coast; and that the ship's course should
be changed southerly. I heard this with alarm, for I could not believe
it possible that we had passed the "Great Isaacs" and the Straits of
Florida. I went on deck at the dawn of day, and saw white sand and
rocks that did not appear more than a dozen feet beneath the water.
I went forward, found the captain, and asked him if he was not on
the Bahama Banks. He denied it. I went immediately and made known the
situation to Maj. Ringgold. He appeared to take but little interest in
the matter, supposed the ship was all right, etc.
About sunrise he came out, and I called his attention to the shoal
water and rocks and the lighthouse on our _starboard_ bow. He spoke
to the captain about what I told him, and was informed that I was a
boy and did not know what I was talking about. The blue line of the
deep water was in front of us, and a bark under full sail on the other
side of the lighthouse heading south; and as we neared each other our
captain took his trumpet and asked, "What ship is that?" and the reply
was prompt, "What in h-ll are you doing there?" I turned to the Major
and asked him if that answer did not explain the situation. The bark
was the Caleb Cushing, bound to New Orleans laden with ice. I believe
to-day it was an attempt to wreck the ship, where life was safe, to get
the insurance.
As we were nearly out of drinking water, there was a necessity to run
into the nearest port for a fresh supply, and the ship put into Key
West. What a relief! That miserable captain had fed us on junk meat,
boiled dried-apple pudding, and hardtack with weak coffee. I have never
eaten any of these dishes since. We remained in Key West one day and
night, and sailed the next morning. There we got some West Indies fruit
and plenty of limes.
The ship was now provisioned with green turtle, the only meat I saw in
the market in the town, and now turtle was substituted for salt beef;
and henceforth it was turtle steak, turtle soup (in name only), and
turtle at every meal until it became as unpalatable as junk beef. Some
days after leaving Key West clouds from the south-east began to fly
over, extremely low, driven by a current just above us. The captain
took in sail, leaving only spread the jib, fore-topsail, main topsail,
and spanker, and I believe the mainsail. I was sitting in the cabin
when all at once tables, chairs, trunks, and everything moveable were
shot to the starboard side in a heap. I caught hold of some fixtures,
got out the cabin, which was on deck, and clung to the weather shrouds.
The ship was nearly on her side. The captain jumped for the halyards,
sailors slid down the deck, feet foremost, to let them go. I had
been anxious to be in a storm on the ocean, and here was one quite
unexpected.
What riveted my attention mainly was the roaring of the tempest through
the rigging. The great shrouds vibrated with a sound that made the
ship tremble, and every rope and cord shrieked aloud in a different
tone according to size, creating a thundering, howling, shrieking roar
that impressed me with awe not unlike that I felt _under_ the falls of
Niagara. I was so fascinated with the music of the tempest that I was
oblivious to the thought of danger, until the ship began to rise from
her side, and when she rose well on her keel I thought the horses would
kick the vessel to pieces.
When we arrived at Aransas Pass the sea was high and the wind strong,
and no lighters would venture outside to come to us. The discharging
the cargo was tedious, as the horses had to be swung to the yardarms
and lowered into the pitching tugs alongside. I had been forty-six days
on board ship, and joyous was it to be landed on St. Joseph's Island.
I will make a small digression here, because it will shed some light
on matters hereafter, and show that a camp may have some attractions as
well as a palace.
Maj. Ringgold carried with him a middle-aged colored servant who had
much experience in arranging dinner and supper parties in Baltimore.
He cared for nothing save to surprise us with dishes that would have
delighted Lucullus. Such pompano, baked red snappers, boiled red fish,
delicate soups, turkeys, geese, ducks, and game birds on toast. In
pastry he had no superior. Never could we, by money or otherwise,
discover how he prepared his sauces. In taste in arranging a table
he resembled Ward McAllister, and he was fitted for a "chef" at
Delmonico's or the Waldorf.
Ridgely had an old slave servant, and Shover and I colored men
hired. They were all true and faithful servants, yet in disregard of
instructions they would ride down and find us on the battlefield with
a good luncheon. They always wished to go with us when there was a
prospect of a fight. So now you can understand how much I rejoiced to
leave that villainous captain and ship, and enjoy again the luxury of
a clean table.
The terms of annexation proposed by the United States were accepted
July 4, 1845, and Gen. Taylor was already at Corpus Christi with a
considerable force when we landed on St. Joseph's Island. Consequently
our stay on the island was soon terminated by our embarking on a light
draft steamer for Corpus Christi. As the water is shoal in front of
this place, the steamer was anchored near a mile from shore, and the
horses thrown overboard and made to swim to land. Corpus Christi is
on the westerly side of the Nueces River, and consequently the United
States troops were occupying the disputed territory. I have no date to
guide me now, but it must have been about the last of October when we
landed on the barren sands of the Bay of Nueces. Here a permanent camp
and depot were established, and discipline in the troops commenced.
There was but _one_ house in this _town_ at that time. It was a canvas
town. It was not an unpleasant place to be in. Lieut. John B. Magruder
was a good theatrical manager, and under his charge a theater was
constructed, and a fair company of actors enlisted. This attracted
some professional of the boards, and thus nightly entertainments were
provided. The disciples of Isaac Walton had rare sport in the bay and
streams; and sportsmen a field for all kind of game. During the winter
a cold "norther" prevailed, and thousands of green turtle, pompano,
red fish, red snappers, and other of the finny tribe were benumbed and
cast on the shores on every side. The number of wild geese that nightly
came from the prairies to rest on the waters of the bay was beyond
estimate. A few miles up the bay, at sunset, the geese would obscure
the sky from zenith to the verge of the horizon, and bewilder the young
sportsman, who would always want two or three at a shot instead of one.
Ten minutes, usually, would suffice to get as many geese as our horses
could carry.
Deer and turkeys were abundant, but on the open prairie would
provokingly move along in front of the hunter just out of range of
shot. Jack or English snipe would rise from the marshy places in flocks
instead of a brace. There was a bird frequently seen in the roads and
paths near camp, always alone, shaped like a game cock, that excited
curiosity. Finally it was shot, and is now known as the chaparral cock.
Soldiers found amusement in betting on Mexican ponies trained to stop
instantly on the slightest touch of the reins. A line would be marked
in the sand on the seashore, and the rider of the pony would take all
bets that he could run his pony a hundred yards at full speed and stop
him instantly (say) within a foot of the line, and not pass over it;
and they generally won the bets.
Many fleet ponies were brought there, and racing was a daily
occurrence. On one occasion the officers got up a grand race. Capt.
May and Lieut. Randolph Ridgely were to ride the respective horses.
When mounted, May's feet nearly reached the ground; and they rode
"bareback." It was an exciting race. On they came under whip and spur
amidst the crowd shouting wild hurrah. As they crossed the goal, May
thoughtlessly checked his pony, and instantly the animal straightened
his forelegs and stopped; but May, not having braced himself, went on.
Seizing the pony by the neck with both hands, his legs rose in the air,
and he made a complete somersault, landing on the ground some twelve or
more feet in front of the pony. As he was not injured, the crowd went
wild with joy.
A great number of Mexicans would daily visit our camp with horses, or
rather ponies, saddles, bridles, blankets, and other horse equipments
for sale. I have had a horse and saddle offered for seventy-five
dollars, or seventy for the saddle and five for the horse. I bought the
best trained hunting pony that I have ever known for fifteen dollars.
The owner protested that he was "mucho bueno" for hunting, and so he
proved. At full speed he had been trained to stop instantly the moment
a motion was made to fire the gun. I once had this pony to go up and
rub the side of his head on the wheel of a piece of artillery when
being fired rapidly in battle. He loved the smell of gunpowder better
than I did. Nearly all the officers bought ponies for themselves or
servants to ride. We heard so much about the great snow-white horse of
the prairies, with a long flowing tail that swept the green grass, and
a mane below his knees, that I thought it was a phantom horse on the
land like the flying Dutchman on the sea. I was mistaken. I heard one
day he had been lassoed and sold to the quartermaster of the post, so
I went "for to see" him. There he was, chained to the pole of an army
wagon. He would kick at every person and animal that ventured near him.
I left him kicking at the man who fed him on hay tied on the end of a
twenty-foot pole. What became of this emblematic horse I cannot tell.
The desire "to know the world by sight and not by books" was increased.
I had seen the Atlantic's deep heaving swells, the tempest in its
might on the gulf, the calms on the borders of the tropics, with those
never-to-be-forgotten beauties caused by the setting sun behind those
wonderful clouds. Every evening as the sun declined, great banks of
blue and purple clouds would form, presenting to the eye, without the
aid of imagination, the most lovely plains, bold mountain ranges, whose
tops were draped in fantastic clouds. Temples that were as gloomy as
Egypt's; castles as enchanting as those on the Rhine; chariots with
horses; human faces and animals in silhouette; lions in repose and
lions rampant; phantasms woven out of clouds by rays of the setting
sun; all, all changing in expression and form by the gentle movements
of the clouds, fading away in outline into one vast glow of crimson
twilight that dissolved into air;
"And like the baseless fabric of a vision, left not track
behind."
And now learning that a small train of wagons would soon leave for San
Antonio, I obtained a month's leave to visit that city, made memorable
by the defense of the Alamo and other tragic events. When the time came
to start I met Lieut. W. L. Crittenden, who told me he had a leave and
was also going with the train. The expedition was in charge of Capt.
N. B. Rossell. When we came to the San Patricio crossing of the Nueces
river the train could not cross by reason of the rains. Impatient of
delay, I proposed to Crittenden and two gentlemen from Kentucky that
we "cut loose" from the train and proceed on our journey. There was
with the train a Mr. Campbell, who lived in San Antonio, and he was
willing to undertake to pilot us over this unknown, untrodden, pathless
country.
At the close of the first day, the guide and I being in advance, we
came to a small, clear, bubbling brook, and he said: "Here we will
encamp for the night." So, dismounting, I hitched my pony and went
up the stream in quest of turkeys that I heard gobbling. I found
them going to roost, and covetous of numbers, I would not shoot one
and return as I should have done. I heard the party shouting for me.
So, waiting till a number of turkeys were in the tree, I fired both
barrels, and only two of the birds fell when I expected double that
number. When I went to get the birds, alas! they were on an island and
I had to leave them. It was now dark, and as I had crossed to the left
bank of the stream I went on down until I supposed I was near the camp,
and made a soft halloo! No answer. I then shouted louder and louder;
then all was silence. I felt a peculiar crawling sensation running over
me, and I think my hair objected to my wearing my hat. I took a survey
of the situation. I was alone in an Indian country; it was very dark,
and I must not pass over the trail where we crossed the stream. Aided
with the light of matches and burning grass I discovered the trail
and found my pony hitched where I left him. Mounting him, I followed
the trail. After a while I heard far away some one halloo. It was
Crittenden returning for me. We met, and I reached camp in no pleasant
mood. It was an experience I have only once since undergone, and the
sensations of the mind when lost are bewildering.
It was the average estimate of the party that the number of deer that
moved to the right and left of our trail was not less than twelve
hundred, besides numerous antelope. Out of all this number we never
killed one, for we had no rifle, and they would walk off or keep
provokingly just out of gunshot. We killed all the turkeys we wanted
for food. In four days we reached San Antonio. There were but _four
white families_ living in the town at that date: Volney Howard, Tom
Howard, our guide Campbell, and Mrs. Bradley. Lands were offered us at
six cents per acre that commands now over a thousand dollars per acre,
and the population is at present fifty thousand.
At the San Pedro Springs, the source of the San Antonio river,
where the river in its strength gushes up from the earth, we found
Col. Harney encamped with a squadron of dragoons. He had built an
observatory from which to obtain a view of the surrounding country.
From the top hundreds of deer could be seen quietly grazing on the
prairies near by.[7]
Wild hogs and large wolves infested the chaparral around the hills,
and were caught in traps. The country is beautiful to the eye, and
the city sleeps in what may be termed a valley, by reason of the low
hills on the north and east. To the west the plain extends to the
Medina river. Western Texas in the months of March and April is lovely
beyond comparison. The green grass is hidden beneath flowers of every
color; not flowers here and there, but one unbroken mass, presenting
a richness of coloring beyond the art of man; as we ride along there
are acres of solid blue, then of white, now of yellow, then pink and
purple; then all mixed up of every hue, as I once saw petunias on the
lawn at Capo di Monti, in Naples.
My stay in San Antonio depended on the departure of the train. There
were a number of army officers waiting the convenience and protection
of the wagons. The evening of our departure was notable for an incident
illustrating the power of imagination over bodily feeling. Most of the
officers had arrived at the camping ground in advance of the wagons,
and were sitting under the trees when they came. As the train was
passing by Crittenden got up and took from his pocket what was called
a pepper box pistol and fired at a tree in a line parallel to the
road. Just at that time Lieut. Lafayette McLaws left the train to come
where we were, and shouted: "Quit firing, I am shot." As he was not in
range, no one regarded what he said, and Crittenden kept on firing the
revolver.
When McLaws rode up he had a wild look, and the bosom of his shirt was
red with blood. A ball hitting the tree had glanced off at an angle and
struck him. He was taken from his horse and the wound examined. There
was the hole where the bullet entered the breast, and he was spitting
blood; and no surgeon being present he was put in a wagon to be taken
back to San Antonio. He was resting on his back on straw and I was by
his side. Again he spit some blood. He said: "My days are numbered.
My whole chest is filled with blood, and I can feel the blood shaking
inside as though I were filled with water." He was satisfied that he
would soon die from internal hemorrhage; and perhaps he would, but
fortunately it was discovered that the ball had also _hit his index
finger_, that he had unknowingly sucked it in his mouth, and this
was the blood he was spitting up. I therefore got out the wagon and
left him. On arrival in San Antonio the wound was probed by a surgeon
and the ball discovered near the spine. It was a glancing shot that
pressing against the skin followed the line of least resistance until
arrested by the spine. He soon recovered and came back to Corpus
Christi.
On the way back, when we struck the Nueces river we discovered that the
timber was a _turkey roost_. As the train was going only three miles
farther on to camp, a young man, son of Col. McIntosh, and I agreed
to remain there until dark and kill some turkeys. McIntosh selected a
tree under the bank near the river; I fastened my pony to a bush on the
plain and sat under the bank in the woods on the second bottom. About
sunset great flocks of turkeys began to appear until the plains were
alive with them. They were disturbed by my pony being tied there. As it
grew dark they came into the trees or woods, flock after flock, in such
numbers that they bent the limbs and fell to the ground all around me.
I made seven shots, shooting only at the head as they were so near me.
I picked up six fine gobblers (I would shoot no hens), and, staggering
under the load, reached my pony. I threw the turkeys down and mounting
my pony rode to McIntosh. McIntosh had fired both barrels, and had one
turkey. He had stopped without any other ammunition. Accompanying me
back to where my game was, we tied the turkeys and put them over the
necks of our horses and went into camp. I have no doubt that more than
a thousand turkeys flew into that timber to roost; they were on the
ground all around me, and they could have been killed with a walking
stick. I do not believe they had ever heard a gun fired before. By the
stupidity of not protecting game by proper laws it has all disappeared
long since. Indians obtained rifles and ammunition from traders, and
the deer were killed solely for their skins; and the wild members of
the Legislature looked on and said: "Let the boys hunt whenever they
please; the country and all it contains belongs to them." It is now
justly held that all game belongs to the State and becomes the property
of the individual only as permitted by law, and after it is killed.
CHAPTER IV.
President of Mexico Resigns, and Paredes Is Elected--Mexican
Troops Concentrating at Matamoras--Taylor Marches to the
Rio Grande--Rattlesnakes--Mirage--Wild Horses--Taylor
Concentrates His Troops at Arroyo, Colo.--Bull
Fight--Mexicans Flee--Taylor Goes to Point Isabel--Join Gen.
Worth--Field Works--Arrival of Gen. Ampudia--Orders Taylor
to Leave--Taylor Declines--Col. Cross Murdered--Lieut.
Porter Killed--Gen. Arista Arrives--Declares Hostilities
Commenced--Capts. Thornton and Hardee Captured.
During the winter the friendly Mexicans who came to the camp would tell
us of the preparations their government was making for war.
At the close of December, 1845, Herrera was forced to resign the
presidency of Mexico, and Paredes was elected in his place; and
detachments of troops began to move north, concentrating at Matamoras,
on the Rio Grande, and the aspect of affairs looked quite belligerent.
On the 22d of February, 1846, a depot of supplies was established by
our troops at Santa Gertrudes, some forty miles in advance on the route
to Matamoras. On the 7th of March the tents of our company were struck
preparatory to a move, and the day following the line of march for the
Rio Grande commenced.
The advance troops were a brigade of cavalry and Ringgold's battery
of horse artillery. To be more minute, the order of march was: a
company of cavalry, then our battery, then the main body of cavalry.
As you can get all important matters from history, I shall allude only
to what history generally omits, and relate minor affairs or scenes
behind history, like that unknown behind the stage. The first night out
we encamped at a beautiful place covered with blue flowers like the
hyacinth. It was pleasant to look at, an enchanting scene that would
have been drowsy and dreamlike from the fragrance of the flowers had
we not discovered nearly every man grazing his horse carrying a small
pole with which he was killing rattlesnakes. That night I slept on the
ground and dreamed a great centipede was crawling over me, and I awoke
with a great scream, like Dudu, from her sleep.
We had breakfast at daylight, and while we were sitting by the camp
fire waiting for the bugle to call, and watching the wild geese flying
around overhead bewildered by the fires, I held my gun pointing at
them, and by some mishap it went off and alarmed the camp; but a goose
fell down, nevertheless, near me. The guide, Pedro, said we had sixteen
miles to march that day to the next camp. Our line was diverging
somewhat inland from the gulf shore, and all the prairie was one green
carpet of grass and flowers as far as the eye could reach, when all at
once there was a great ocean on our left and not far distant. Officers
galloped to Pedro to learn what was the matter, and ere an explanation
was had the _mirage_ was gone, the ocean was gone, and we were on the
lone prairie as before.
The third day we were marching quietly along when an alarm was sounded.
To our right and a little to the rear in the horizon was what appeared
to be a column of cavalry bearing down on us. As it came nearer and
nearer the cry arose: "Wild horses, wild horses!" Our battery was
closed up, the advanced company of cavalry moved on, leaving a large
opening; the dragoons massed, making an interval for the herd to pass
through. On and on they came and, at full speed, with their long
flowing manes and tails, passed through the open space made by the
battery and dragoons. There were between two and three hundred. As
soon as they passed Capt. May, Lieut. Ridgely, and some other officers
were after them on their fine horses with lariat in hand, and after a
ride of a mile or more came back each with a young colt. They stayed
with our horses several days and then disappeared. When we encamped a
pony that I had bought for my servant to ride was bitten on the face
by a rattlesnake near the door of our tent. The animal was treated
with ammonia and whisky. The next morning his head was so swollen that
I left him behind. A servant of the paymaster, when the infantry came
along, found the pony and brought it on to the Rio Grande and returned
it to my boy.
The infantry marched by brigades at a day's interval. The officers and
men being in uniform, wearing caps, had their lips and noses nearly raw
from the sun and winds, and could not put a cup of coffee to their lips
until it was cold. I wore an immense sombrero, or Mexican straw hat. On
the route I was often told: "When Gen. Taylor comes up you will be put
in arrest for wearing that hat." The army concentrated near the Arroyo
Colorado, where the general commanding overtook us. I went over to call
on him the next morning, and found him in front of his tent sitting
on a camp stool eating breakfast. His table was the lid of the mess
chest. His nose was white from the peeling off of the skin, and his
lips raw. As I came up he saluted me with: "Good morning, lieutenant,
good morning; sensible man to wear a hat." So I was commended instead
of being censured for making myself comfortable. His coffee was in a
tin cup, and his lips so sore that the heat of the tin was painful.
A day or so after this the advance pickets encountered a herd of wild
cattle that all ran away except an old bull that showed fight. Hearing
shots in advance I galloped on and found four or five cavalrymen
around this animal, that looked as if he might be the grandsire of the
herd. Every shot fired from the carbines had failed to penetrate the
skin. I was armed with my shotgun and a brace of old pistols made in
Marseilles, France, that Lieut. U. S. Grant gave me to carry along for
him. I fired both these pistols at the enraged animal, and the balls
only made the skin red by removing the hair. We now persuaded a dragoon
to put himself in front of the beast while I approached within twenty
feet of his side, and from my gun fired a ball that penetrated the
lungs. Still he pawed the earth and charged the horses, some of which
were injured, and inspired new life to all around him while his own was
ebbing. At last a dragoon dismounted, cautiously approached, shot him
in the forehead, and the already weakened bull fell on his knees and
rolled on his side--dead.
This fight was not conducted according to all the rules of the ring
at Madrid. We had, however, a dozen picadors and a matadore, and they
performed feats of valor without the approving smiles of black-eyed
señoras or the applause of the grandees, which in Spain nerves the
actors to daring deeds; but there was a compensation, for there were
no hisses when one fled from the bull to save his horse, or sought a
raking position in the rear to encourage those in front. The lesson
I drew from this kind of recreation was that at the next bullfight I
would be found among the spectators and not in the arena.
This continued firing by the advance guard caused troops to hasten
to the front to ascertain the reason of the tumult, and when it was
reported to Gen. Taylor that according to the rules of Texas, Mexico,
and Spain a bull had been found, an amphitheater marked out, and that a
real bull fight had taken place; that the noble animal had been slain
for amusement, and that his cavalry was not well trained and had been
tossed by the bull, he grew irate, and alas! to spoil our little game
of recreations away in front, caused an order to be issued forbidding
all firing on the march, unless necessitated by the presence of the
enemy. Henceforth the bulls, deer, and jack rabbits became friendly
with us, and we passed them by in silence.
Nearly every day small armed parties of Mexicans were seen away in
advance, and once when we rode to a small pond to water our horses we
found a party of Mexican lancers watering theirs also. A few words of
salutation passed, when they moved on and disappeared. Once they set
the prairie on fire, and we had to drive through the leaping flames
with our guns and caissons filled with ammunition.
On the 19th the head of the column was halted and went into camp about
three or four miles off the stream called Arroyo Colorado, to wait
the arrival or concentration of all the troops, about four thousand
in number, and preparation to cross was made by the engineers. On the
morning of the 20th, our battery was put in position on the banks of
the river where the earth had been cut down for it to cross, and where
its fire could command the opposite shore and cover the landing of the
infantry. Notice had been given the engineer officer by the Mexicans
that the forces on the Mexican shore were under positive orders to
fire on any of our troops attempting to cross. Again a like notice was
sent to Gen. Taylor, and a proclamation that had been issued by Gen.
Mejia a day or two past was handed to him. During this time an awful
din was made on the Mexican side by bugle calls away down, and far up
the river, and kettledrums and fife in the woods in front. Our guns
were loaded and matches lit when the old General gave the command for
the infantry to cross. The head of the columns plunged into the water,
holding their cartridge boxes and muskets high, and, landing, deployed
at once right and left. Other troops crossed above on the right, and
when all moved forward not a Mexican was seen.
On the 24th we arrived at a point on the main road running from Point
Isabel to Matamoras which was ten miles from Point Isabel and a like
distance from Matamoras. Gen. Worth was directed to move on toward the
Rio Grande near Matamoras with the infantry, while Gen. Taylor, with
our battery and the dragoons, went down to meet Maj. Munroe at Point
Isabel, where he had established a depot of supplies for the army. On
the 26th Gen. Taylor, with his escort of cavalry and artillery, joined
the main body under Worth, and on the 28th the army encamped on the
river bank opposite Matamoras.
The arrival of Gen. Taylor with his army, quietly taking the position
he did, no doubt produced some consternation. Mexican infantry was seen
in motion in the city. They had the river picketed and batteries placed
to bear on our camp.
The Mexican commander insisted that all was lovely, and that there
was no war; that the acts of hostility were little events--little
incidents--to make our arrival interesting and pleasant. That the
Consul for the United States in Matamoras was free, and a gentleman
of leisure, but that Gen. Taylor could not interview him without
permission from the Commandante.
Notwithstanding "the distinguished consideration" and affectionate
regard expressed in the communications for the Americanos, Gen. Taylor
concluded to put up some field works or fortifications out of courtesy
to those being constructed by the Mexicans. We were in the land of
Moab, and the promised land was on the other side. There was the city
embowered in green foliage, with tropical plants around the white
houses, and there, when the sun was declining, would assemble the
female population to see and to be seen, and listen to the music of the
various bands. "Dixie" was not then born, the "Bonnie Blue Flag" had
not then been waved; and we played "Yankee Doodle" because it made a
loud noise, the "Star-Spangled Banner" because it waved over us, "Hail,
Columbia" because it was inspiriting, and the sweetest airs from the
operas for the beautiful senoritas with the rebosas that disclosed the
sweet faces they were designed to hide. The music from the other side I
cannot recall now, only it rose with a "voluptuous swell" that floated
over the water and died away softly in the distance with the breath
that made it. And all the while on our side the shore was lined with
officers and soldiers enjoying the scene before them--that had a short
existence.
"Ampudia has come! Ampudia has come!" was heralded by every Mexican
that came into our camp vending the products of the farms. And so it
was. He came clothed in modesty, and made a display of it immediately
by sending a dispatch on the 12th ordering Gen. Taylor to get out of
his camp in twenty-four hours, and not to stop on this side of the
Nueces. I do not believe Taylor was much acquainted with fear, because,
instead of "folding his tents like the Arabs, and silently stealing
away," he had the audacity to remain just where he was until the
twenty-four hours had expired, and long after.
About this time Col. Cross, of the quartermaster's department, was
murdered by some one and his body thrown in the chaparral. I was with a
party of officers that was riding up the river, not expressly in search
of Col. Cross's body, some seven or eight days after he was missed, and
we observed some vultures resting in an old tree top. I rode in toward
them, and saw a blue coat on the ground. It was Col. Cross's, and some
of his remains were there. They were afterwards gathered up and cared
for properly. One of the parties, a detachment of dragoons, sent in
search of Cross's body got into a fight with the Mexicans and Lieut.
Porter was killed; and yet there was no war?
And now a greater than Ampudia had arrived, and on the 24th of April
Gen. Arista assumed command of the Mexican army now encamped in and
around the city, and he informed Taylor that he considered hostilities
commenced, and had "let slip the dogs of war." The enemy was now
reported to have crossed to our side in large numbers, and parties
were sent out to make reconnoissances, one of which was captured by the
Mexicans; and Capts. Thornton and Hardee were now prisoners of war.
CHAPTER V.
Arista and His Cavalry--United States Excited--Two Hundred
Thousand Men Offer Their Services--Congress Declares
"War Existed by the Acts of the Mexican Republic"--Taylor
Marches to Point Isabel--Bombardment of Fort Brown--Capts.
May and Walker--Taylor Marches for Matamoras--Battle of
Palo Alto--Victory--Arista Falls Back to Resaca--Battle
of Resaca--Capture of Enemies' Batteries--Capts. May and
Ridgely--Gen. La Vega Captured--His Sword Presented to
Taylor--Duncan and Ridgely Pursue the Enemy--I Capture
La Vega's Aid--Col. McIntosh--Ride over the Field of
Palo Alto--Death of Lieuts. Chadburne and Stevens--We
take possession of Matamoras--Gen. Twiggs appointed
Governor--Twiggs and Jesus Maria--Arrival of Gens. W. O.
Butler, Robert Patterson, Pillow, and others--Promoted
to Second Lieutenant--Officers of the Company--March to
Camargo--Thence to Monterey--Seralvo--Arrival at Monterey.
And now Arista, on the part of the Mexican government, having declared
that war existed; and some of our forces, both men and officers,
having been killed or captured, the pony express carried this news to
the city of New Orleans; and as there was no telegraph, it spread all
over the country and became magnified like "the three black crows."
The apprehension that we were cut off from communicating with home by
Arista's army occupying a position between us and Point Isabel was
widespread, and impromptu meetings held for volunteers to go to the
relief of our army, and thousands responded to the call. Congress was
in session, and it promptly declared that "war existed by the acts of
the Mexican Republic," and authorized the President to accept into
service fifty thousand volunteers. As over two hundred thousand men
offered their services, it may be, as Mark Twain once observed, that
many persons "persuaded their wives' relations" to avail themselves of
this unique occasion to visit the land of the Aztecs, and enjoy balmy
breezes under the shade of the acacia, the bamboo, and the pomegranate,
with transportation free. In the meantime we were in blissful ignorance
that we were in such danger, and did not know it until our friends came
to our relief.
When Arista landed a part of his force on our side of the river, it
was put in the field under the command of Gen. Torrejon, and, being
cavalry, had gained possession of the road leading to Point Isabel,
thus cutting off all the creature comforts that we daily enjoyed. If
it did not affect our pockets, it curtailed the duties of our _chef de
cuisine_, and diminished the pleasures of the table. In plain English,
rations were getting short, and the less we had to eat the harder we
worked on the fort and other defenses.
May Day, when our friends were inhaling the fragrance of the bloom
of the peach and cherry, the rose and the violet, and children were
dancing around the maypole, we were striking our tents, packing up
"traps," burning letters, preparatory to leaving for Point Isabel. A
mocking bird that would sit on the ridgepole of my tent and sing to
me daily, and warble sweet notes by moonlight, now sat on the fence
adjoining and sung a parting song, for I never saw him again, and it
filled my heart with sadness. Sing on, dear bird; I hear thee now!
The Seventh Regiment of Infantry, Bragg's company, or battery, and
a company of foot artillery were left in the fort under Maj. Brown,
and Gen. Taylor started for Point Isabel, where our supplies were in
store. The day following we arrived, and I was delighted to see old
ocean again. Our departure should not have been made an occasion for
sensible persons to rejoice, for did we not trust about six hundred men
to entertain the Mexicans during our absence? and thus notify them that
we purposed to return, and did we not do so?
"And I have loved thee, ocean," and I love thee still, and I was
content to hear thy voice again and be near thee; but life is a dream,
and from that dream I was awakened at dawn on the morning of the 3d.
I was sleeping on the ground. A dull distant sound broke on my ear.
I rested my head on my elbow, and heard nothing; putting my ear again
to the earth, I heard the boom! boom! of distant cannon. It was heard
by others, and soon the camp was astir. It was now certain from the
continuous sounds that Fort Brown was being bombarded. Gen. Taylor sent
out Capts. May and Walker to communicate with Maj. Brown, and Walker
succeeded in getting into the fort and returning. The defense of Point
Isabel was to be intrusted to Maj. Munroe, assisted by the navy in
command of Commodore Connor; and the army, now reduced to two thousand
four hundred men, was to move to the relief of the garrison in Fort
Brown.
About noon on the 7th this little force started to meet Arista, who
was between us and Fort Brown, without a question or doubt of getting
there, although it was known the enemy's force numbered about eight
thousand men. It was near noon on the 8th of May when far away over the
broad prairie, dimly outlined, was seen a dark line directly in front
of us. It was the Mexican army drawn up in battle array across our road
to Matamoras. When we arrived where there was water Gen. Taylor halted
to give the men time to fill their canteens and to have a little rest.
Soon the long roll sounded, hearts beat, pulses kept time, and knees
trembled and would not be still. Our line was formed as follows: the
fifth infantry (Col. McIntosh), Ringgold's battery, third infantry, two
long, heavy iron eighteen pounders, fourth infantry, and two squadrons
of dragoons posted on our right, all commanded by Col. Twiggs, formed
the right wing; the left was a battalion of foot artillery, Duncan's
battery, and eighth infantry. In some respects it was a laughable thing
to see the deployment of our line, of which the Mexicans were quiet
spectators. Looking back from where we came into battery, which was
executed in a half minute and in advance of the infantry, I could see
the two great, long, heavy iron eighteen pounders, and the white-topped
ammunition wagons lumbering along to get into line, drawn by a team
of twenty oxen each. They came into line by words of command not laid
down in the work on tactics; they described a great semicircle at the
commands, "Haw, Buck! haw, Brindle! whoa, Brandy!" and finally got
their muzzles pointed to the front. If we had had elephants in place
of the oxen, it would have been more picturesque, and presented a fine
panorama.
Arista must have thought he had performed his whole duty when he
barred the road with his troops to prevent Taylor from advancing. He
had been in line of battle all the morning awaiting our coming, yet he
_permitted us to deploy undisturbed_, although we were in easy range
of his guns, instead of assuming the offensive as he should have done.
With a courtesy becoming a knight of the Middle Ages he permitted
Lieut. Blake, in the presence of the armies, to ride down to within
musket shot of his line, to dismount and survey his troops through his
glass, then to remount and ride along down his front without allowing
a shot to be fired at him. As this reconnoissance had unmasked his
artillery, he ran his guns to the front, and the artillery on both
sides commenced firing. My rank assigned me to the duty of sitting on
my horse to look at the fight and watch the caissons. Presently a small
shell came along and struck the driver of the lead horses. The shell
entered his body after carrying away the pommel of his saddle, and
exploded the moment it left his body, as fragments of it wounded his
horse in the hip, split the lip and tongue, and knocked out some teeth
of a second horse and broke the jaw of Lieut. Ridgely's blooded mare.
That was the first man I saw killed in battle. It was war, but it was
not pleasant, and I thought it was no place for me to sit on my horse
idle; so, dismounting, I gave my horse to a horse holder, and walked
to the howitzer on the right, took command of it, and helped work it.
As no one demurred at what I was doing, I remained in charge of it all
day. I would prefer to take my rod and line and go fishing, even if I
got only a nibble, than to sit still on a horse offering myself as a
target for cannon balls. To have a hand in the fray is quite another
matter.
I shall not describe this battle. It was almost and altogether an
artillery fight. Once the Mexican cavalry with two pieces of artillery
under Torrajon made a detour to our right with a view of turning
it, or capturing our wagon train. This movement was defeated by the
Fifth Infantry and two pieces of artillery being sent to meet it.
The infantry formed in square, and when the Mexican cannon were being
loaded to fire on the square, Ridgely and I came up, and so _quickly_
did we bring our guns into action that we unlimbered, loaded, and fired
before the Mexicans could; in fact they did not fire a cannon shot, but
retreated _slowly_ back whence they came. Why they moved so doggedly
slow under fire I could not tell; perhaps it was Mexican pride. Not
long after this Maj. Ringgold, while sitting on his horse, was struck
with a cannon shot, from the effects of which he died. Maj. Ringgold
was an accomplished officer and an elegant gentleman, and his loss was
a source of universal regret. Lieut. Ridgely succeeded to the command
of the battery. The firing ceased about dusk. Our loss was only ten
killed and forty-four wounded. Arista stated that his loss was two
hundred and fifty-three. They turned their guns on our batteries; we
fired at their infantry as instructed. During the night Arista fell
back to a strong position on the banks of a dry bed of a stream about
thirty yards wide called Resaca de la Palma. It runs through a wood
with a dense undergrowth of chaparral, the woods on either side being
perhaps a mile wide. From the prairie on which the battle of Palo
Alto had been fought the road enters the woods that border the Resaca,
crosses it, and leads on to Matamoras.
Early on the morning of the 9th Taylor sent Capt. McCall with about
two hundred men in advance to discover the position of the enemy. He
found them in force at Resaca, returned, and so reported to the general
commanding.
There have been men who _create occasions_ and avail themselves of
the circumstances arising therefrom; but man generally is the creature
of circumstance, and I mention this because it has an application to
persons who were engaged in this day's battle. From Gen. Taylor down no
one in this army had had much practical experience in the _art_ of war,
and from practice knew but little of the peculiar province of each arm
of the service.
Because the artillery rendered such signal service on the field
yesterday Gen. Taylor was impressed with the idea that it was available
for pursuit of cavalry in mountain passes, for storming entrenchments,
or charging a line of battle. Having discovered the position of the
enemy, the General had the trains parked on the prairie and left in
charge of a battalion of foot artillery and the two eighteen pounders.
May's dragoons were held in reserve on the prairie near where the road
enters the woods.
[Illustration: PLAN OF BATTLE OF RESACA, MEX.
Fought May 9, 1846.
1. Ridgely's guns when he called for May's dragoons to capture
Mexican Battery.
2. Position of Ridgely after the charge.
3. Position of Mexican battery when captured.
4. United States infantry moving to attack.
5. May's dragoons previous to the charge.
6. Reserve.
7. Mexican infantry.
8. Mexican cavalry.
9. Mexican artillery.]