Soldiers of Conquest (24 page)

Troops of Dragoons began to arrive and Worth dispatched squads of them off in several directions to find and obtain information from the roving pickets, and to scout for enemies themselves. The army stood waiting for the reports to come in, as Worth galloped from regiment to regiment checking the men's readiness for battle.

“Lieutenant Grant, what's going on?” O'Doyle asked.

“General Worth must know something.”

“I hope so, sir. I was having a fine dream about one of these pretty girls.”

A snicker ran through the formation.

Minutes later the squads of Dragoons began to return and report. Worth questioned them. Grant saw the squad leaders shake their heads. The last group arrived also with a negative finding. Worth shouted out to his brigade commander to have the men fall out.

Grant called out. “Sergeant O'Doyle, take the men to the commissary and feed them. Then check all wagons and harnesses and repair anything needing it.”

Hazlitt came up and intercepted Grant as he moved away. “This drill,” he said with a disgusted expression on his face and waving his hand to indicate the grumbling, dispersing soldiers, “was all based on a rumor that Santa-Anna was approaching with a large army. I think our general is too easily spooked.”

Grant smiled ruefully. He didn't respond to Hazlitt for there was nothing to be gained by complaining. During the past two days Worth had made himself appear ridiculous by assembling his regiments on just such a flimsy excuse. This was the kind of dumb action that a young and inexperienced lieutenant might pull. Worth's only saving characteristic was his bravery on the battlefield.

*

The courier's horse was dripping sweat lather as it sped past Lee and Hitchcock walking along the evening street in the direction of their quarters. They looked after the horseman and saw him rein his mount to a stop in front of army headquarters. The courier dismounted, untied a mail pouch from behind his saddle, and hastened to the headquarters' entrance where he handed it to the sergeant of the guard.

Both Lee and Hitchcock recognized the man as one of Dominguez's men. The Mexican Spy Company, Scott had officially christened it, had grown to nearly a hundred men and Dominguez was still recruiting. Using a relay of riders, Scott now had mail delivered from Veracruz to Jalapa every two days.

“I'd better go and see if there's something in the mail that needs taken care of,” Hitchcock said.

Lee continued on his way and glad he wasn't Scott's chief of staff who was tied to headquarters and at the general's beck and call every minute of the day. As chief of the engineers Lee had much freedom. Especially now for most of his engineers were off performing tasks for the divisions.

*

”The general is fit to be tied,” Hitchcock said to Lee. “In this situation I don't blame him.” Hitchcock had just arrived with a bottle of wine to Lee's quarters. He sat down and reached out to fill Lee's offered glass. Then slowly filled his own.

Lee took a drink and waited for Hitchcock to continue. Hitchcock sipped his wine and savored its taste for a moment before he swallowed.

“Well, Ethan, out with it,” Lee said. “Or did you come here to just make one statement about the general and then drink wine with me?”

“Okay. A man named Nicholas Trist is at Veracruz. He has written the general that he's a special envoy from President Polk and is here to work toward ending the war.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “Who is this Trist fellow?”

“He's assistant to the Secretary of State. Speaks fluent Spanish, I've heard. The general wasn't notified of his coming, and to make matters worse, Trist has sent instructions for him to deliver a sealed proposal for peace to the Mexican Government.”

“I bet the general really like being ordered to do that. But why a sealed proposal? The general is the commander and chief here and it's his right to know what's being offered because it could jeopardize the army.”

“Right. He's convinced President Polk has deliberately sent a civilian to supersede his authority as military commander.”

“Polk is too shrew to do that in the middle of a war, especially in such a crude way. Do you think there's a misunderstanding on Trist's part of what his role should be?”

“God! I hope it's that simple.”

“What's the general going to do about all this?” Lee's sympathies were with Scott.

“I'm worried about that very thing. Usually he's very thoughtful of other peoples feeling, but now his blood is hot. When I left he was writing a harsh letter to Polk and Marcy complaining of Trist acting like he had senior authority of both military and diplomatic actions. He said he would write Trist returning the proposal and telling him that he wouldn't deliver it, and that he was the commanding officer in the field.”

“This is bad,” Lee said and deeply concerned for the general. “He should be certain of the facts before he does anything.”

”There's more. He's had enough of General Worth's shenanigans and is moving headquarters to Puebla. He said to tell you to get ready to go with us in the morning.”

“I'll be ready.” Scott's senior general was making an ass out of himself. His order of occupation for Puebla had allowed men who had stabbed and robbed Americans to be dismissed by the Mexican courts. He had continued his nervous, unsettling habit of calling his men to arms. Once on unsubstantiated rumors, he had kept the men in ranks all day with their weapons, and haversacks holding three days rations of food. The men were calling the false alarms “Worth's Scarecrows”. He had issued a circular accusing the Mexicans of plotting to poison his troops, claiming they had inherited from the Spanish the habit of cowards to poison men whom they wouldn't fight. The Puebla officials and the priests complained strenuously to Scott, pointing out that they were doing everything that had agreed to. Scott sent Worth a letter of reprimand. Worth screamed he was being unfairly condemned and demanded a court of enquiry. Scott selected Twiggs, Quitman, and Persifor Smith for the court. They found Worth's terms of occupation harmful to public service, and the poison plot circular to be highly improper and the reprimand justified. To which Worth complained even louder and wrote Washington demanding they clear his name. That's where the matter stood.

“What's the plan for the rest of the army?” Lee said. “Tactically it's in a bad situation, being divided into parts as it is at Veracruz, Jalapa, Perote, and Puebla. Such long distances separate them that one part can't come to help another in the event of an attack.”

“He's going to pull them together at Puebla. Those at Veracruz will remain there to protect the main stores depot and keep the port open for us.”

“The army keeps getting smaller day by day,” said Chilton. “We've had a hundred and thirty men desert since we've been in Puebla, and that's in less than a month.”

“That's on top of the three hundred that deserted at Jalapa,” Hazlitt said. “That's what happens if you don't pay your men. But besides the money, if we knew the religion of the deserters, we'd probably find that most are Irish Catholics. Isn't that what we found up north, Sam?”

“From what we knew about their religion, that's the way it seemed,” Grant replied. “Some Catholic men think were going to tear down all the Catholic Temples, kill the priests, and make the country Protestant. That's what the Mexican newspapers keep drumming into their heads.”

Grant and the other two lieutenants had returned a short time before from a successful foraging expedition and were at the Aztec Club located in a large building near the Plaza. The Americans had started the club since they had arrived in the city. He felt genuine pleasure at being here with his comrades, drinking a beer, and drawing on a smooth cigar.

Grant was growing to like the boyish Chilton. He was a brave fighter and was learning quickly how to lead men. Perhaps he was overly concerned about their safety, not fully considering a soldier's life was naturally dangerous.

“General Scott's here!” a cry sounded from the door.

“About damn time,” said Hazlitt and rising to his feet. “Let's go meet the general.”

“Right,” said Chilton.

Grant followed the others outside.

*

Scott and his retinue of staff officers and escort of a troop of Dragoons had covered the ninety miles from Jalapa to Puebla in two and one half days. They made the journey without incident. Just inside the gate of the city, he sent McClellan ahead to inform Generals Worth and Quitman of his arrival. As McClellan dashed off, Scott continued on at a leisurely pace and commenting upon the fine buildings and the colorful clothing of the people. Lee thought Puebla a grand city, making Veracruz and Jalapa seem but small villages in comparison.

Reaching the plaza they found soldiers gathering by the hundreds. Pueblans were there in an even larger number and wanting to see the commander of all the American soldiers. The troopers quickly formed a ring to hold the civilians away from Scott. The people gawked up at the big, blue uniformed general sitting upon the big gray horse, while he with an expression of amusement, looked out over the townsfolk and his soldiers. This was a change from the past days when he had been silent and withdrawn, anxious about the safety of his men and dreading the encounter with Worth.

General Quitman came pushing through the Dragoons. He saluted the general. “Welcome, general, it's good to see you here.”

“Thank you. Where's General Worth?”

“At headquarters,” Quitman said and not liking the message.

Lee was saddened by Worth's absence for it showed disrespect for his commander and chief. The rift between the two men could not but hurt the fighting ability of the army.

Scott's jaws clenched as if to say, so that's the way he's going to play it. His face relaxed and he spoke to Quitman. “General, have one of your people show Colonel Hitchcock the way to the Governors Palace.”

He turned to Hitchcock. “Colonel, ride to the governor and ask him to call on me at headquarters later today for we have important matters to discuss. Impress upon him that I want to see him and not a subordinate.” Scott was getting straight to the matter of who ruled Puebla.

“Now, General Quitman, lead the way to headquarters.”

Quitman called out to the major of Dragoons. “Make a way for us through them.” He pointed at the compact mass of soldiers and civilians who had gathered to view Scott.

The major rolled his spurs along his horse's flank and set it prancing and its iron-shod hooves pounding a tattoo on the cobblestones. The mass of people gave way reluctantly from in front of the beast. Scott and his entourage fell into the trooper's wake.

“This is it,” Quitman said to Scott as he halted the group in front of a large brick building with a sign over the main entrance identifying it as “American Army Headquarters”.

“The governor provided the building for our use. General Worth's office is at the end of the hall.”

Scott stared at the sign for a long minute, detesting the task that lay before him. Finally he pivoted around to the men with him.

“General Quitman, you may go on about your duties.”

“Yes, sir,” Quitman said and his face showing relief. He saluted and walked away.

Scott spoke to his staff officers. “Gentlemen, I will see General Worth alone. You are released to find quarters for yourself.”

Without waiting for an acknowledgement or salute, Scott faced away. He dismounted. With a heavy step, he went into the building.

Lee was as glad as Quitman had been not to be a witness to the meeting between Scott and Worth. He felt deeply saddened by the conflict between the two generals. He laid the blame on Worth who seemed to act from shallow thinking and baseless resentment of Scott's intentions.

*

In the wagon park the Americans had set up just outside the walls of Puebla, Grant had his teamsters working diligently to harness the hundreds of horses and mules and hook them to the wagons. He watched the men, listened to them curse the stubborn animals, and waited for the Texas Rangers to appear. The yellow ball of the sun was already above the horizon and he wanted to be off on his foraging to Toluca a town some thirty miles away to the northwest.

He had never been as busy as during the past two weeks, not even enough time to go to the Aztec Club and catch up on the latest news and gossip. General Scott had ordered a supply depot be established in preparation for the advance on Mexico City, and every army quartermaster was working full time to fill it with foodstuffs for the men and grain for the thousands of horses and mules. In further preparation for the march upon Mexico capital, Scott now had his entire army, except for the garrison at Veracruz, concentrated at Puebla. General Twiggs had marched in with his division, and the five hundred man garrison from Perote that he had been ordered to pick up along the way. All the camp followers had trailed close behind Twiggs.

For escort Grant would have his Fourth Infantry Regiment, a hundred Dragoons, and a company of some fifty Texas Rangers. Colonel Hays had arrived the day before with five companies of Rangers, 285 men. Grant believed their presence here was due to his suggestion to Lee to have Scott request them from Governor Henderson. The Rangers had been assigned to escort the foragers of the various brigades. The large escort would be needed for as the army had advanced closer to the Mexican capital, the guerrilla bands had become larger in size, numbering in the hundreds, and more aggressive in their attacks on the American wagon trains.

As Grant watched the city gate, a group of Rangers came out and wheeled to come in his direction. The leader, a rawboned six-footer with a freckled face and red hair brought his band to a stop in front of Grant and dismounted.

“Well, Sam, we meet again,” he said and smiled with pleasure.

“Tom Cavallin, it's good to see you.” Grant said.