of reducing the city would have given time for Santa Anna's regulars and the yellow fever to arrive, one concludes again and finally that Scott's method was humane and wise.[1]
Owing to inequalities of the ground, the character of the soil, great skill on the part of our engineers, incessant care and remarkable good fortune, the total losses caused by 6267 Mexican shot, 8486 shells and all the bullets of the irregulars were only about nineteen killed and sixty-three wounded. The siege was not exactly a fête champêtre, however. It was tiresome to be awakened at night so often by Mexican skirmishers, disagreeable to be routed out by the diabolical screech of a heavy shell, and quite annoying to have one of the "big dinner-pots," as the soldiers called them, explode close by. Saturating dews, abominable drinking water, scanty and bad rations, howling wolves, lizards in one's boot, "jiggers" that made the feet itch incessantly, fleas that even a sleeping-bag could not discourage, and sand-flies nearly as voracious, were minor but real afflictions. When a norther began, the whole aspect of nature seemed to change. The sky became a pall, the atmosphere a winding-sheet, the wind a scourge; and the roaring, chilling blast filled one's ears, eyes, mouth and even pores with biting grit, cut the tents into ribbons, and sometimes buried their sleeping inmates.[2] To escape from the Mexican shot sentries often had to burrow in the sand, and under the tropical sun they learned to appreciate the power of the old brick oven. When carrying provisions or dragging cannon, amidst hills that blazed like the mirrors of Archimedes at Syracuse, men often dropped.[3]
On the other hand, besides the initial high spirits, which helped immensely, and the excitement and comradeship that knocked off the edge of hardships, there were special sources of cheer — particularly the "blue-shirts," as the seamen were called. When turning out in the face of an icy sand-blast sharp enough to cut granite, it was something to hear a salty voice give the order, "Form line of battle on the starboard tack!" But sailors on shore leave, who burst from their long confinement like birds let loose, and "cruised" in the environs with perfect abandon, were better yet. Their sport with the wild monkeys was truly edifying, and their delight over the burro would have set Diogenes laughing. Sometimes they
