The War with Mexico/Volume 2/Chapter 22
XXII
VERA CRUZ
February—March, 1847
On the twenty-first of February, General Scott, who had sailed from Tampico in a storm the day before, observed in the distance what seemed to be greenish bubbles floating on the sea. These were the Lobos Islands, and presently he found there on transports the First and Second Pennsylvania, the South Carolina, and parts of the Louisiana, Mississippi and New York regiments of new volunteers. Within a week many more troops, including nearly all the regulars of the expedition, arrived from Tampico or the Brazos, and the natural break-water that protected the anchorage — a sandy coral island of about one hundred acres, fringed with surf, covered with bushes and small trees woven together with vines, and scented by the blossoms of wild oranges, lemons and limes veiled itself behind the spars and cordage of nearly a hundred vessels.[1]
Judicious measures prevented the smallpox from spreading. Drilling began; and the drum, fife and bugle aroused a fighting spirit, while visiting, social jollity and military discussion tended to create an army solidarity. In the evening bands played martial airs, and the watch fires on the coast gave an additional sharpness to the ardor of the soldiers. Meanwhile the General, who still expected vigorous opposition to his landing, waited impatiently for more surf-boats and heavy ordnance, looked anxiously for the ten large transports[2] in ballast requisitioned by him in November, laborated his plans for disembarking, and issued the corresponding orders.[3]
The next rendezvous was to be off Anton Lizardo, about a dozen miles beyond Vera Cruz and some two hundred more from the Lobos anchorage, where islands, reefs and the shore of the mainland combined to form a deep and capacious harbor; and about noon on the second of March the steamer Massachusetts plowed through the fleet, dashing the spray from her bows, and set off in that direction. A blue flag with a red centre waving at her main-truck indicated that Scott was aboard, and when the noble figure of the commander-in-chief, standing with uncovered head on the deck, was observed, peal after peal of cheers resounded from ship to ship. The clanking of anchor chains followed them; the sailors broke into their hearty songs; the sails filled gracefully; and the fleet stood away.[4]
For two days its progress was not fast, but then a norther set in. Like a panorama, peak after peak on the lofty sky line passed rapidly astern; and finally Orizaba, the "mountain of the star," upreared its head superbly more than three miles above sea level not far inland. Then came Green Island, where the Albany and Potomac were on hand to give any needful assistance,[5] and the John Adams showed her black teeth to lurking blockade-runners; while in the distance the frowning bastions of Ulúa "castle" could be made out, and the sixteen domes of Vera Cruz appeared to be promenading along her white wall. Pitching and rolling on the huge billows of inky water, with foam leaping high over their bows, the transports threaded their way swiftly between the tumbling and roaring piles of surf that marked the reefs, and finally, on March 5, the swallowtail pennant of Commodore Conner and the flags of the American squadron were seen off Antón Lizardo. Cheers followed cheers as the transports dropped anchor one after another; and when the sun went down in a blaze of glory behind Orizaba, the spirits of the men, stimulated by so many novel, beautiful and thrilling scenes, by the approach of combat and the expectation of triumph, reached the very culmination of military enthusiasm. It was a good beginning — except that Scott arrived a month late, and the yellow fever usually came on time.[6]
"Heroic" Vera Cruz, the city of the "True Cross," was in form an irregular hexagon, with a perimeter some two miles in length, closely packed with rather high buildings of soft, whitewashed masonry. Although famous as the charnel house of Europeans, it was a rather pleasant place for those who could endure the climate. The little alameda, across which many a dandy strutted every day in tight linen trousers, a close blue jacket, gilt buttons and a red sash, and many a pretty woman tottered coquettishly in pink slippers, was charming. The curtained balconies gave one a hint now and then of ladies making their toilets and smoking their cigarettes just within; and the flat roofs, equipped with observatories commanding the sea, were delightful resorts in the cool of the day. Along the water front extended a massive wall, supplemented at the northern end with Fort Concepción, at the southern end with Fort Santiago — both of them solidly built — and, between the two, with a mole of granite some two hundred yards in length. Landward the defences were feeble, for it had long been assumed that any serious attack would be made by water; but there were nine well-constructed, though in most cases not large, bastions, and between them dilapidated curtains of stone, brick and cement about fifteen feet high and two and a half or three feet thick.[7]
Behind the town extended a plain rather more than half a mile wide; and beyond that rose hills of light sand — enlarged editions of the dunes that ran along the shore north and south of Vera Cruz — which gradually increased in height until some of them, two or three miles inland, reached an elevation of perhaps three hundred feet. Then came dense forests, cut here and there by a road and occasionally diversified with oases of cultivated land, richly scented by tropical fruits and flowers. To the southwest of the city lay a series of ponds and marshes, drained by a small stream that passed near the wall; and this creek, supplemented by cisterns and an underground aqueduct, provided the town with water. In the opposite direction, on a reef named the Gallega — distant nearly three quarters of a mile from Fort Concepción — rose the fortress of Ulúa, built of soft coral stone, faced with granite, in the most scientific manner, and large enough to accommodate 2500 men.[8] Water batteries lay wherever it seemed possible to effect a landing, and tremendous walls, enfeebled by no casemates, towered to a height of about sixty feet.[9]
At the beginning of March, 1846, Mora y Villamil, the highest engineer officer in the Mexican army and at this time comandante general of Vera Cruz, feared that on account of Slidell's | departure the Americans might suddenly attack him. Aided by Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Robles, a skilful and active subordinate, he drew up detailed plans for repairing the crumbling fortifications of the city and castle, and these were approved by the government; but the lack of money prevented the full execution of them. In October the captain of a British frigate warned the new comandante general that an American attack was Imminent; and at about the same time Santa Anna, while bitterly reproaching the government for its neglect of the town and pointing out what needed to be done, charged him to make the "strong buildings" a second and a third line of defence in case of attack, and then perish, if necessary, under the ruins of the city; but again the want of funds vetoed adequate preparations. On the other hand, unpaid soldiers paid themselves by stealing powder and selling it.[10]
About the middle of November it was learned at Mexico from a New Orleans newspaper that an expedition against Vera Cruz had been projected, and within two months the news was confirmed. Santa Anna heard of it, and wrote that 6000 militia should be assembled there. He was told in reply that his demand would be met early in February; and assurances were given to Congress that everything requlsite had been done.[11] By the fourth of March the comandante general, to whom the information had been transmitted, was inditing urgent appeals for help, and soon the appearance of Scott showed that a crisis had arrived. In reliance on the promises of the general government, hopeful and incessant work on the fortifications now began; but within four days letters from the war department, conferring unlimited powers upon the commander, admitted that on account of the Polko insurrection at the capital no assistance could be given, and many of the people not only left the city, but endeavored to draw their friends and relatives from the National Guards.[12]
In point of fact military men had long known that Vera Cruz, as a fortified town standing by itself, was indefensible. General Mora admitted that it needed stronger exterior works than could be constructed; and there was no squadron to keep Ulúa supplied with provisions. The proper course for the comandante general was either to strip the city of whatever Scott could use; and merely endeavor to prevent him from advancing farther, as was privately argued by leading members of Congress, or — for the moral effect of such an example — to send all non-combatants away, and struggle until crushed; but neither public sentiment nor the government would have permitted the first of these plans, and, while the comandante had the second in mind on the fifth of March, it was too heroic for execution.[13]
Besides, there seemed to be a fighting chance. Ulúa was much stronger than when the French, aided by fortune, had captured it, and the anchorage occupied by them could now be shelled. Some of the guns had been improperly mounted; some of the
carriages were old; at some of the embrasures balls of different calibres were mixed; pieces without projectiles could be found, and projectiles without pieces; rust had impaired the fit of many balls; but the city and the fortress together had probably three hundred serviceable cannon and mortars,[14] more muskets than men, and plenty of ammunition. As an assault was expected, the streets were defended with cannon and barricades, sand-bags protected the doors and windows, loopholes without number were made in the wall, the rather shallow but wet ditch was cleared, and although barbed cactus made the approach of an enemy to the bastions almost impossible, thousands of pitfalls—each with a sword, bayonet or short pike set erect at the bottom—were dug beyond the wall, so arranged that no one marching straight forward could well avoid them.[15]
Juan Soto, the governor of the state, was indefatigable, and as the state militia numbered about 20,000, it seemed reasonable to count upon succor. Giffard, the British consul, expected that substantial help would come from that source. Other states were likely to furnish aid; and the people, taught by the long inaction of the Americans off the shore to despise them and encouraged by fictitious reports that assistance would be rendered by the national government, felt united and enthusiastic.[16] The city council offered all its resources, and the well-to-do raised funds for a hospital by giving a theatrical performance. The garrison, led by the brave, active and popular though not very able Morales, now comandante general, may be estimated as at least 1200 in Ulúa and 3800 in the city. About half of them were merely National Guards; but these, decorated with tricolored cockades and red pompons, looked and felt extremely dangerous. "As God lives," cried one of their leaders, "either we will triumph, or all of us, without a solitary exception, will be interred in the ruins." The civilans remaining in town may have numbered 3000.[17]
Bearing in mind the necessity, not merely of taking Vera Cruz and Ulúa, but of getting his army away from the coast before the advent of yellow fever, and satisfied that Polk would show him no mercy in case of ill-success, General Scott examined his problem with all possible care, and consulted freely the officers he particularly trusted.[18] He could not very prudently have left, say, 5000 men to mask or possibly reduce Vera Cruz, as some critics insisted he should have done, and advanced with the rest, for the essential purpose of his expedition was to capture that place, and such a course might have been viewed by the government as insubordinate. Besides, that policy would probably have been regarded by the Mexicans as a sign of weakness; the possession of the harbor and shipping facilities would evidently aid all further operations; by holding them it would be possible to deprive the enemy of war supplies and other necessaries; the arms, ammunition and cannon of the Mexicans were highly valuable, especially to them; and the American army would not have been an adequate aggressive force after thus detaching nearly half its numbers. The obstacle before Scott had, therefore, to be faced and overcome.[19]
The best method, evidently, was to reduce the town before seriously attacking Ulúa, because that success would greatly diminish the enemy's fire, make it possible to contract and so strengthen the American line, and somewhat facilitate the transportation of supplies. Such had been the General's plan from the first. Officers eager for distinction recommended an assault, and Scott well knew that a quick, brilliant stroke would best win him fame and popularity.[20] But he understood equally well that an assault, necessarily made at night, would entail a heavy loss of his best men—enough, perhaps, to prevent his advancing farther and escaping the pestilence— besides involving a great slaughter of both combatants and non-combatants in the town. On the other hand, as the British consul and the British naval commander agreed, there was not enough time before the yellow fever season to warrant relying upon starvation alone.[21] Siege and bombardment were therefore indicated, and Scott promptly decided upon that plan as combining, better than any other, humanity with effectiveness.[22]
The initial step was to select a point for debarking; and Conner, whom Scott had requested in December to study this problem, had already fixed upon the beach of Mocambo Bay, two and a half or three miles southeast of Vera Cruz, which was somewhat sheltered from northers and could be swept by the guns of the fleet. Sacrificios Island, a strip of sand representing a large reef, was just off shore, too, forming an anchorage here. Accordingly Scott, with Conner, the principal generals, Robert E. Lee, P. G. T. Beauregard and other officers, went up in the little steamer Petrita, reconnoitred the spot, and then—probably to deceive the Mexicans regarding his intentions—ran within a mile and a half of Ulúa, where he was almost sunk by the gunners.[23] His judgment agreed with the Commodore's, and orders were given to land on the eighth. But when that morning came, signs of a norther showed themselves. The glass fell. The heat became stifling. A southerly
wind loaded with moisture blew, and the summit of Orizaba, clad in the azure hue of the poet, stood sharply forth; hence the orders were countermanded.[24]
The signs failed, however, and the extra day was available for the last preparations. A detailed plan of debarkation had been drawn up and announced while the army was at Lobos Islands, but certain difficulties had not been anticipated. The ten large transports in ballast had not come, and to land from a great number of small vessels at Sacrificios, where there was little room and foreign warships occupied all the safe anchorage, appeared imprudent. Conner, therefore, offered to transport the army on larger, better and more ably handled vessels belonging to the squadron, and Scott's wise acceptance of the proposal involved extensive readjustments.[25]
These, however, were skilfully arranged, and when the dawn of March 9 announced a perfect day, a scene of the greatest activity began. Signals fluttered to mastheads. In clarion tones officers issued their orders. Despatch boats dashed here and there. Sailors and soldiers roared their favorite airs. Fully half of the 10,000 and more troops were placed on the frigates Raritan and Potomac, and most of the others on smaller vessels of the squadron. At about eleven o'clock the order to sail was given. Amid thunderous cheers the Massachusetts plunged through the fleet, and took its place in the lead with Conner's flagship. A gentle breeze from the southeast filled the sails; and the war vessels and transports were off. After a smooth voyage they began to arrive near Sacrificios at about one o'clock, and in close quarters, but without mishaps or even the least confusion, each dropped anchor in its allotted space. 15 The yards and rigging of the foreign war vessels were black with men, and ladies, armed with glasses and parasols, gazed impatiently from the deck of the British packet.[26]
Without the loss of a moment three signal flags rose to the main-truck of the Massachusetts, and the work of landing Worth's brigade of regulars began. The double-shotted cannon of the squadron were brought to bear on the shore. Seven gunboats drawing eight feet or less formed a line within good grape range of the beach, and cleared for action. About sixtyfive surf-boats, which had been towed from Antón Lizardo by steamers, were rowed by naval crews to the vessels carrying troops — each having a definite assignment — and after receiving from fifty to eighty soldiers apiece, making up the whole of the brigade, attached themselves in two long lines to the quarters of the steamer Princeton, which had now anchored about 450 yards from the shore. This process consumed several hours, and it was hardly ended when a shell whizzed over them. "Now we shall catch it," thought the soldiers, for rumors of opposition had been heard, two or three hundred cavalry could be seen, and artillery was supposed to be lurking behind the dunes.[27]
The flash of a signal gun shot now from the Massachusetts; the surf-boats cut loose, faced the shore abreast in the order of battle, and struck out for land; and a cheer burst from every American throat. Great Orizaba cast aside its veil of haze, and stood out against the setting sun. Not a cloud flecked the sky; not a ripple marred the burnished water. Ulúa and Vera Cruz thundered loudly, though in vain. National airs rolled from our squadron. Shells from the gunboats broke up the Mexican cavalry and searched the dunes. The oars of the straining sailors flashed. Muskets — not loaded but with fixed bayonets — glittered. Regimental colors floated at the stern of each boat. Suddenly one of the boats darted ahead and grounded on a bar about a hundred yards from the shore. Out leaped Worth; his officers followed him; and the whole brigade were instantly in the breaking ground-swell, holding aloft their muskets and cartridge-boxes.![28]
Here was the chance of the enemy, for our vessels could not fire without endangering Americans; but no enemy was to be seen.[29] Led by their color-bearers the regulars quickly splashed ashore, formed in a moment, charged to the crest of the first dune, planted their standards and burst into cheers; the men on the ships, tongue-tied for some time by an excitement and anxiety that made their brains reel, answered with huzza after huzza till they made the bay "seem peopled with victorious armies," wrote one of the soldiers, and the strains of "Star-Spangled Banner" broke from the bands. Less formally, but rapidly and in order, the boats went back for the troops of Patterson and Twiggs; and by midnight, without having met with a single accident, more than 10,000 men, duly guarded by sentries, were eating their biscuit and ey on the sand or preparing to bivouac.![30]
During the night Mexicans in the rear did some shooting but without effect, and the process of investment began. Diverting attention from this by having a gunboat, sheltered about a mile from the city behind Point Hornos, throw shot and shell into Vera Cruz for a couple of hours the next forenoon, Scott had Pillow's brigade capture the hill of Malibrán behind Worth's camp, and push on toward the rear of the city. Quitman then passed it; Shields passed Quitman, and Twiggs passed him. Wallowing up and down the slopes of deep sand in a sultry heat without water to drink proved to be extremely hard work; and breaking through the valleys, where a matted growth of chaparral — armed with thorns as keen as needles and stiff as bayonets — resisted everything but sharp steel, was harder yet. Day and night Mexican irregulars, both infantry and horse, and cannon salutes from the city and the castle embarrassed operations, and there were many brisk skirmishes. Moreover the landing had scarcely been made when a norther set in, covering the men with sand, blowing away old hilltops and building up new ones. But not long after noon on March 13 Twiggs reached the Gulf north of the city. The next morning a well-supported detachment from each brigade advanced as far as it could find cover, driving the Mexican outposts before it; and by night these detachments were only about seven hundred yards from the town.[31]
The American position as a whole, known as Camp Washington, was now a semi-circular line about seven miles long. There were gaps, but these were rapidly closed with strong pickets. The railway and the roads were all occupied; the visible water supply of the city was cut off; and on March 16 Seott announced that.nothing less than a small army could break through. Meantime, whenever the weather permitted, artillery, stores, horses and provisions were landed in the most systematic manner. Safeguards were issued to the representatives of foreign powers at Vera Cruz, and in a letter of March 13 to the Spanish consul[32] Scott indicated plainly that "bombardment or cannonade, or assault, or all" of these might be expected by the citizens.[33]
The time to plant artillery had now arrived, and the ideal spot was found on the sixteenth; but after a battery had been laid out there, access to it proved to be dangerously exposed. Two days later, however, a fairly good point was discovered, near the cemetery and Worth's position, about half a mile south of the town, which screened it somewhat from the castle; and preparations to establish two mortar batteries there, about one hundred yards apart, began the following night. At the
same time a deep road, wide enough to admit a six-mule team, was under construction.[34]
Most of this labor had to be done at night, and the utmost possible silence observed. As the transports lay a mile off shore, while the only wharf was an open beach, and a norther blew violently from the twelfth to the sixteenth, the work of landing ordnance and ordnance stores proceeded slowly. Fortunately the work on the batteries was not discovered; but the fire of Paixhan guns and heavy mortars from the city and castle, though irregular and singularly unfruitful despite the undeniable skill of the gunners,[35] compelled the Americans to adopt extreme precautions. Nor were these embarrassments the only ones. Notwithstanding seasonable orders, only fifteen carts and about a hundred draught horses had arrived. Not more than one fifth of the ordnance requisitioned by Scott about the middle of November and due at the Brazos — he now — reminded Marcy — by January 15, had yet appeared. A great many artillery and cavalry horses had been drowned, injured or delayed; and there was a shortage of almost every requisite for siege operations.[36] But the army and the navy coöperated zealously; soldiers took the places of draught animals; and in spite of every difficulty three batteries, mounting seven 10inch mortars, were in readiness by two o'clock on the afternoon of the twenty-second, and the soldiers felt eager to hear what they called the "sweet music" of these "faithful bull-dogs."[37]
At this hour, therefore, Scott formally summoned the town, intimating that both assault and bombardment were to be apprehended. 'The reply was a refusal to surrender; and at a quarter past four, accompanied by a deafening chorus of joyous, frantic shouts and yells, the American batteries opened, while the "mosquito fleet" of two small steamers and five gunboats,[38] each armed with a single heavy cannon, stationed themselves behind Point Hornos, and fired briskly.[39]
Like "hungry lions in search of prey," a soldier thought, the shells from the mortars flew "howling" to their mark. With heavier metal and vastly more of it, Vera Cruz and the castle replied. The city wall blazed like a sheet of fire. Shot, shell and rockets came forth in a deluge, it seemed to the men; and the two columns of smoke, rolling and whirling, mounted high and collided as if striving to outflank and conquer each other. Still more terrible was the scene at night. A spurt of red fire; a fierce roar; a shell with an ignited fuse mounting high, pausing, turning, and then — more and more swiftly — dropping; the crash of a roof; a terrific explosion that shook the earth; screams, wailing and yells — all this could be distinctly seen or heard from the American lines. During the twentythird and the following night the fire still raged, but on the American side more slowly, for although ten mortars were now at work, a norther interrupted the supply of ammunition.[40]
But while the bombardment made an interesting spectacle, as a military operation it was proving unsatisfactory. The ordnance thus far received by Scott was inadequate for the reduction of the city — to say nothing of Ulúa. With mortars, especially as the distances could not be ascertained precisely, it was impossible to be sure of hitting the bastions and forts. Shells could be thrown into the town, but while the houses suffered much, the fortifications and garrison escaped vital damage, and there was no sign of yielding. Not a few in the American army, who had supposed that a fortified city could be taken at sight like a mint julep, grew impatient; the officers eager for assault fumed; Worth, proud of his quick work at Monterey, sneered; Twiggs grunted. As an army man Scott naturally desired that branch of the service to reap all the glory of its campaign, but he now found himself compelled to ask for naval guns heavy enough to breach the wall, and make an assault practicable; and when Perry, who had taken Conner's place on the twenty-first, insisted that men from the squadron should work them, he consented."[41]
The new battery, constructed by Robert E. Lee and mounting three long 32's for solid shot and three 68's for shells, was planted just behind the bushy crest of a slight eminence, only some 800 yards from the city wall, where the enemy did not suppose that such an enterprise would be ventured; and until the guns were about ready to be unmasked on the morning of the twenty-fourth, its existence was not suspected.[42] Here were instruments of power and precision, and they told. The Mexicans concentrated upon them a terrific fire, but with no serious effect; and when on the next morning a battery consisting of four 24-pounders and two 8-inch howitzers joined the infernal chorus, the fire, though hindered occasionally by the tardiness of ammunition, was "awful," said Scott and Lee, while the city appeared like one dense thunder-cloud, red with flashes and quivering with incessant roars.[43]
That night the batteries played still more fiercely. Sometimes four or five shells were sizzling through the air at once. The fire, said an officer, was now "perfectly terrific"; and to heighten the wildness of the scene, many vessels could be observed by the light of the moon going ashore in the norther. About thirty were wrecked by this one gale, and others had to cut away their masts. In the meantime preparations for assaulting both by land and by water, should an assault prove to be necessary, were actively pressed.[44]
In town, during the early period of these operations, the enthusiasm continued to run high, for the cautious and faint-hearted had gone away, and the reports of the irregulars, constantly skirmishing against the Americans, were colored to suit the popular taste. Work on the fortifications proceeded, and fresh cartridges for the artillery were made with feverish haste. Bands played; the gunners amused themselves by firing at small and far distant groups among the sand-hills; and at night fireballs and rockets lighted up the plain in anticipation of the hoped-for assault. When the investment was completed, when the American outposts drew near the town, and especially when it became known that preparations for a bombardment were under way, the people grew more serious; but it was expected that forces from without would break the line, or at least prevent the construction of batteries.[45]
A painful disappointment followed, however. Soto made great efforts to collect the tax levied by the state; but the citizens, impoverished by the long blockade, had no money, and without cash troops could not be fed. In spite of many hopes the fluctuating bands under Colonel Senobio, the chief leader of the irregulars in the vicinity, do not seem to have risen at any time far above 1000, and perhaps never reached that number. In vain Soto appealed for an able general and a nucleus of regulars. They were not within reach, and the few pieces of artillery could not be moved. The states of Puebla and Oaxaca tried to help, but were tardy and inefficient.[46]
Men from the upper country dreaded the yellow fever; and those of the coast, volatile by nature, ignorant of real warfare, without organization, training or discipline, were astonished and confounded when they struck the solid American line. They pecked at it continually, but Morales himself could see that no skill, concert or strength marked their efforts. Discouragement and wholesale desertion followed. The city, therefore, could not obtain provisions by land; and as most of the seamen alongshore fled to the mountains, and boat communication became more and more difficult, it was realized that supplies from the interior were out of the question. After March 20 the troops could be given little or no meat; but soldiers were detailed to fish the prolific waters under the guns of Ulúa, and no doubt beans and tortillas, the staple food of the common people, continued to be fairly plentiful.[47] The opening of the bombardment, however, precipitated a crisis, and as our fire grew more and more intense, the consternation and suffering increased. Crashing roofs; burning houses; flying pavements; doors, windows and furniture blocking the streets; a pandemonium of confused and frightful sounds; bells ringing without hands; awful explosions; domes and steeples threatening to fall; the earth quaking; crowds of screaming women, who rushed hither and thither; terrible wounds and sudden deaths—all these were new and overwhelming scenes.[48] Only one bakery escaped destruction, as it happened, and the children cried in vain for bread; the priests would not leave their shelter to comfort and absolve; and finally the very instinct of self-preservation was lost in a stupid despair more dreadful to witness than death itself.[49]
The troops in the southwestern section, under our heaviest fire, became terror-stricken. In other quarters men left the ranks to look after families and friends; and when a murky dawn ended the terrible night of the twenty-fifth, demoralization was rife. People wandered about the streets crying for surrender. Always passionate, they now hated their own government for deserting them. The consuls went out under a flag of truce, but Scott refused to see them, sending them word—it was reported—that any persons leaving the city would be fired upon, and that unless it should surrender in the meantime, new as well as the old batteries would open the next morning. 'This fact overwhelmed the people; and the prospect of being exterminated at leisure by an enemy who could not be injured, beat down their last thought of resistance.[50]
Consul Giffard had predicted that any plausible excuse for surrender would be turned to good account. Supplies were now said to be failing, and in the course of this dreadful night an informal meeting of officers agreed upon capitulation. Naturally the idea gave offence to many, and there was talk of opening a way through the American line with the sword. But a council of war soon decided to negotiate; commissioners were appointed; and Scott, who was invited to take similar action, did so. The six men came together on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth, but could not agree; and the Mexicans returned to the city, leaving behind them a proposition.[51] Worth, who was our chief representative, believed the negotiations were simply a waste of time, and favored an immediate assault; but Scott saw that the Mexicans, while trying to save appearances, really meant surrender, and the next morning granted with certain vital modifications their terms.[52] His demands were accepted, and it was thus agreed in substance that Landero, to whom the command had been turned over, should march his army out with all the honors of war, the troops be paroled, and the armament — so far as not destroyed in the course of the war—be disposed of by the treaty of peace. It was further agreed that all the Mexican sick should remain in town under Mexican care, private property be respected, and religious rights be held sacred.[53]
It was a "shameful surrender," declared Santa Anna, and from a military point of view this could hardly be denied. Ulta had practically not been touched; it had a considerable supply of provisions, and there was a chance of obtaining more from blockade-runners. Vera Cruz was in a harder yet not in a desperate plight. Men of importance there, knowing the city would be denounced for surrendering, naturally endeavored to prove that it had suffered terribly and exhausted its resources before yielding; and the principal neutrals — friendly toward them, engaged mostly in trade, and more willing to have life sacrificed than property — raised an outcry against the proceedings of Scott that became a fierce indictment in Europe and the United States. But the British naval commander, though not inclined to favor the General, reported that the casualties in the city were only eighty soldiers killed or wounded, about one hundred old men, women and children killed, and an unknown number injured, and that its food supply, while no doubt less delicate and varied than could have been desired, would have lasted beyond the middle of April; and there is considerable evidence that. his figures were approximately correct.22 Ammunition did not fail, nor did water.[54]
The surrender was really due therefore to the moral effect of Scott's artillery. Even Giffard, who termed his operations cruel and unnecessary, admitted this; and, bearing in mind the General's obligations to obey his government and save the lives of his men, the inevitable horrors of an assault by night, and the serious danger that a reliance upon starvation as the sole means 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.[55]
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.[56] 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.[57]
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 rode him, and sometimes they carried him. Planted in the Mexican style just forward of the creature's tail, they felt that at last they were riding the quarter-deck, and commanding a snug vessel of their own. Above all they enjoyed "mooring ship." This congenial manoeuvre was achieved by taking aboard for "anchor" a heavy block of wood, previously attached to the donkey's neck with a long rope, then racing at full speed, heaving the "anchor," paying out the cable, and bringing up in a heap on the sand — the donkey on top, very likely.[58]
Not less cheering and a little more military was the news, which arrived by the fifteenth of March, that "Old Wooden-leg's" army had been "licked up like salt" at Buena Vista. And still another comfort was to gaze from a safely remote hill at Vera Cruz, which looked — the soldiers agreed — so oriental, with airy palm trees visible over the white wall, hundreds of buzzards floating in wide circles far above, the dark bulwarks of Ulúa set in waves of purple and gold on the left, a forest of American spars and masts on the right, piercing the misty splendor of the yellow beach, the bright sails of fishing boats in the middle distance, and the vast, blue, cool Gulf beyond it all. How the panting soldiers gloated on the prospect of taking possession![59]
And on March 29 they did so. The day was enchantingly summerlike; a delightful southeast breeze came over the water; and the domes of Vera Cruz were gilded with splendid sunshine. In a green meadow, shaded with cocoanut palms, a little way south of the town, Worth's brigade was drawn up in a. dingy line, and a dingy line of volunteers, about seventy yards distant, faced it. At one end of the intervening space, near the city wall, stood sailors and marines. 'The American dragoons and a battery were opposite them, and a white flag waved at the centre. A little before noon the Mexican troops, in their best uniforms of blue, white and red, marched out of the gate, formed by company front with a band at the head of each regiment, advanced to the flag, and stacked arms. A few slammed or even broke their muskets; many kissed their hands to the city; and a standard bearer, who had removed his flag from the staff and secreted it in his bosom, wept for joy when permitted to keep it. But most of the men seemed in fairly good spirits, and as a rule the much-decorated officers, who retained their swords, produced a fine impression.[60]
As the rear of the column left the gate, the Mexican banner on Fort Santiago, after receiving a last salute from the guns of the city and castle, was lowered; and then issued forth a crowd of men, women and children, loaded with fiddles, guitars, parrots, monkeys, dogs, game-cocks, toys and household utensils, that was enough to destroy any funereal sentiments which otherwise might have been felt. Even by the Mexican accounts, not a word or look of triumph, not even a note of authority, was chargeable to the victors; and Worth, who received the column, proffered a thousand courtesies. General Scott, the so-called "vain-glorious," remained in the background; but he sent a note excusing from their parole about forty officers, whom he expected to aid him at the capital as in effect advocates of peace.[61]
Amid cheers and the waving of caps, American flags then rose on the forts, greeted by hundreds of salutes from sea and shore. It seemed, wrote a soldier, as if there were nothing in the world but cannon, and all the cannon thundering; and the glory of the Stars and Stripes, gleaming amidst the smoke, gave a new significance to the emblem of patriotism. With his bands playing favorite American airs, Worth's brigade now marched into the town; and later Scott, with his staff and a brilliant escort, followed it. Perry took formal possession of Ulúa; and the disbanded Mexican troops that resided elsewhere scattered to their homes, preparing the people for submission wherever they went by tales of American invincibility, and teaching them by every sort of outrage to welcome American rule.[62]