As I went to our camp I stopped at Colonel Totten’s tent to inform him of the state of affairs—he directed me to step in and report to General Scott. I found him writing a despatch. He seemed to be very much delighted and showed me the last words he had written which were “indefatigable Engineers.” Then we were needed and remembered—the instant the pressing necessity passed away we were forgotten. The echo of the last hostile gun at Vera Cruz had not died away before it was forgotten by the Commander in Chief that such a thing existed as an Engineer Company.[43]

Facsimile reproduction of a pencil sketch by McClellan.
Church at Camargo, seen from the Palace.

The superiority of our fire was now very apparent. I went out again at 3 P. M.—met Mason carrying a large goblet he had found in a deserted ranch. Found Captain Lee engaged in the construction of a new mortar battery for four mortars, immediately to the left of No. 1—in the parallel. There was a complete cessation of firing—a flag having passed in relation to the consuls, I think. The platforms of this battery were laid, but not spiked down. A traverse was made in boyau between Nos. 1 and 2, just in front of the entrance of the large magazine of No. 1, it being intended to run a boyau from behind this traverse to the left of the new battery. I laid out a boyau connecting Stevens’s communications with the short “parallel” of No. 2, then Captain Lee explained his wishes in relation to the new battery and left me in charge of it. I thickened the parapet from a ditch in front—inclined the superior slope upward, left the berm, made the traverses, had the platforms spiked, etc. The mortars were brought up and placed in the battery that night. Captain Saunders sent me to repair the embrasures of the 24 pounder battery—doing nothing himself. He then sent me to excavate the boyau I had laid out.

About 11.30 the discharge of a few rockets by our rocketeers caused a stampede amongst the Mexicans—they fired escopettes and muskets from all parts of their walls. Our mortars reopened about 1.30 with the greatest vigor—sometimes there were six shells in the air at the same time. A violent Norther commenced about 1 o’clock making the trenches very disagreeable. About three quarters of an hour, or an hour after we reopened we heard a bugle sound in town. At first we thought it a bravado—then reveillé, then a parley—so we stopped firing to await the result. Nothing more was heard, so in about half an hour we reopened with great warmth. At length another chi-wang-a-wang was heard which turned out to be a parley. During the day the terms of surrender of the town of Vera Cruz[44] and castle of San Juan de Ulua were agreed upon, and on 29th of March, 1847 the garrison marched out with drums beating, colors flying and laid down their arms on the plain between the lagoon and the city ... muskets were stacked and a number of escopettes ... pieces of artillery were found in the town and ... in the castle.

After the surrender of Vera Cruz we moved our encampment—first to the beach, then to a position on the plain between our batteries and the city. Foster was detached on duty with the other Engineers to survey the town and castle. Smith and myself were to superintend the landing of the pontoon and engineers trains, and to collect them at the Engineer Depot. Between the Quartermasters and Naval Officers this was hardly done when we left. I dismantled the batteries, magazines etc.—then amused myself until we left, with the chills and fever.

J[immie] S[tuart] being too sick to go on with his regiment came over to our camp and stayed with us. Instead of being sent on in our proper position, at the head of Twiggs’s Division, we were kept back and finally allowed to start on the same day that Worth started[45]—we received no orders to move, merely a permission. Our teams (6) were the worst I ever saw—they had just been lassooed as they swam ashore, and neither they nor their teamsters had ever seen a wagon before. We left Vera Cruz on the 13th [April]. By dint of applying some of the knowledge I had acquired under Guy Henry’s parental care, I succeeded in getting four teams to Ve[r]gara (Twiggs’s headquarters during the siege). As Smith and Foster did not come up I rode back to see what was the matter and found that they had arrived at a point opposite the middle of the city, broken down two sets of teams, got one teamster’s arm and hand badly kicked—and the devil to pay in general. At last they got on, and by leaving half the loads by the roadside we managed by hard swearing to get to within one-half mile of El Rio Medio by dark.

The road so far was horrible, being hilly and very sandy. Our mules were so weak and miserable that the men actually had to push the wagons along, and it was easy to see that our march was to be very severe upon all concerned. General Worth and his staff passed us as we were busily engaged in “cussing” a team up a hill—we then learned for the first time that Santa Anna was at Cerro Gordo with a large force. When we encamped this night everybody was tired to death, and the only event worthy of recollection was the thrashing that a certain lazy nigger “Isaac” received from his frisky “bos.”

On the [14th] we made an early start and after “persuading” the mules up the hill beyond Rio Medio we got along without very much trouble until we arrived at Santa Fé. Here the wagons were unloaded and leaving me with about ten men Smith and Foster went back after the loads left at Ve[r]gara. Jimmie [Stuart] and I struck up an acquaintance with the Alcalde—a very nice sort of a man. I found a couple of cavalry barracks etc. We amused ourselves chatting with the Alcalde all day—who tried hard to stampede us with guerilla tales etc. Captain Hughes came up late in the afternoon, Smith arrived after dark, having left the wagons with the ordnance people about half a mile behind. While G. W. [Smith] was at supper, Jimmie, who had been amusing himself by playing monte with the Rancheros, came back and amused us by an account of a muy poquito muchachito [a very little boy] about four years old playing monte and smoking paros [puros, or cigars].

Foster came up at last, and we all turned in. Santa Fé is a poor little affair—no water, but rather a fine view of a large extent of rolling country.

On the 15th I started back after the wagons before daybreak “unwashed and uncombed.” After a vast amount of swearing at “Seven Bottles,” of whom more anon, I got all the wagons up to Santa Fé—set the men to work at loading the wagons—got my breakfast, and at last we started. Country at first a rolling prairie—finally more broken and woody. We passed some of the most magnificent forests I ever saw—trees covered with most beautiful flowers—the fields also—the villages were completely deserted. About the middle of the day we stopped at a stream to rest.—While taking our lunch under the bridge an old stupid Dutch teamster brought down his mules to water and finally proceeded to water himself. He drank seven (!) claret bottles full of water and at length finding that process too slow he took to his bucket! We went on and overtook the ordnance fellows at ....... Had a good supper and a fine sleep, although they did try to stampede us about Lancers etc.—but they could not do it.

Started early on the 16th [April]—country remarkably broken—even mountainous. We passed several very long hills, at which it was necessary to treble our poor little teams. Met Simon Buckner[46] with a beef party. Arrived at Puerto Nacional just before Worth’s Division left it (about 2 P. M.). Saw all the fellows and made our preparations to start at twelve at night. Took a fine bath in the clear mountain stream, and then dinner. After dinner we went to see Santana’s Hacienda—found a little boy in it who was frightened to death at the Barbarians. A réal [a small coin, about 12½ cents] soon quieted him.

The bridge has a curved axis—it is a beautiful piece of architecture. It would be impossible to cross it were the heights around properly defended and the bridge itself occupied. The bridge and heights might all be turned by enterprising light infantry, for the stream is fordable. From the nature of the ground it would be impossible for artillery or cavalry to turn it without great trouble and labor.

Reveillé at 11.30—started at quarter past twelve—of course no undressing. S[tuart] “thought as he was already dressed there could be no hurry.” Night pitch dark. About an hour before daybreak found in the road a saddle (American) and a pool of blood—some poor devil of a straggler from Worth’s Division probably murdered. After ascending the hill just beyond this spot, G. W. [Smith], J. S[tuart] and myself laid down in the road to sleep—that half hour’s sleep just before going into battle was the sweetest I ever enjoyed. Passed in the course of the morning a great many stragglers from Worth’s Division—they had lagged behind in the night march. About two miles from Plan del Rio we were sitting in a ranche waiting for the wagons, when a wagonmaster came galloping by saying that the Lancers had cut off the train. The escort of dragoons was about 800 yards nearer Plan del Rio than we. We galloped back—the escort not far behind and found that our wagons were safe, but that the Lancers had cut off a few of the stragglers whom we had passed.

Suddenly a turn of the road displayed Plan del Rio[47] at our feet—the little valley filled with troops, horses, artillery, wagons, etc. We arrived at about 10.30 A. M.—found the Engineers and took a lunch with them. G. W. S[mith] and myself then rode out to Twiggs’s position with Captain Lee—we arrived just in time to see the ball open [i. e., the battle of Cerro Gordo]. Saw old Twiggs, who wondered “Where the devil did you two boys come from?” and started back to bring up the company. On the way back a round shot came about as near my head as would be regarded agreeable in civil life and then missed enfilading the 2nd Infantry about a foot and a half. When we got back to El Plan, I was ordered to join [Lieut. Z. B.] Tower with ten men—to go with Gid Pillow and the Mohawks.[48] Did my best that afternoon to find out where we were to go in the morning but none of them would tell me anything about it. G. W. left me ten of the best men in the company, and took Foster and the rest with him to report to General Twiggs. It seemed to be a mutual thought that the chances all were that we would not meet again! The idea of being killed by or among a parcel of Volunteers was anything but pleasant.

Got up before daybreak—woke up the men—had the mare fed and saddled—drank some coffee—distributed tools to my party and was ready for battle long before our dear Mohawks had their breakfasts. Also gave some tools to the Volunteers. My men had hatchets, axes and billhooks—the Volunteers [had] axes, sap-forks and billhooks. At length all was ready and much to my surprise we marched straight up the road toward Jalapa. So little did I know of our point of attack—I only knew that we were to attack either their right or front, and that we would as surely be whipped—for it was a Volunteer Brigade. I led off with my detachment, and after passing the greater part of Worth’s Division—which was formed in column of platoons in the road—we turned off to the left, nearly opposite the point where Twiggs turned to the right. Tower directed me to place my men on the path inclining most to the left. I did so and rested my men, whilst waiting for the Volunteers who were a long distance behind. At length General Pillow came up, and seeing my men, directed that they should be placed on the path inclining to the right.

Lieutenant Tower made some remark about changing the route, and also that we would be more apt to be seen when crossing some ravine if we went to the right. I remember distinctly that the impression made upon me by the conversation was that General Pillow had against the opinion of Lieutenant Tower changed the route to be followed in order to attain the point of attack. I had no idea of the importance of the change and that it could lead to a different point of attack. I afterward found that the different paths led to very different parts of the enemy’s position, the one we actually followed bringing us in a very exposed manner against the front of the works, whilst if we had taken the one advised by Lieutenant Tower we should have turned the right of their works and have been but little exposed to their fire.

The fault of the erroneous selection was General Pillow’s, except that Lieutenant Tower should, as the senior Engineer with the column, have taken a firm stand and have forced General Pillow to have pursued the proper path. It was certainly a fine opportunity for him to show what stuff he was made of—but unfortunately he did not take advantage of it at all.

We at length moved off by the flank. My detachment [was] at the head, and during the movement—at all events before the firing against us commenced—we heard the musketry of the attack of Twiggs’s Division upon the Telegraph Hill.[49]

After moving about two-thirds of a mile from the main road we reached a certain crest bordering upon a ravine, whence a strong picket of Mexicans was observed. Tower advised General Pillow to incline his Brigade well to the right in order to cross the ravine lower down and out of view. The General directed Colonel [Francis M.] Wynkoop[50] to countermarch—file twice to the right and move upon a certain dead tree as his point of direction (Colonel Campbell’s [1st] Tennessee Regiment to support him). He was then to form his men for the attack and charge upon hearing a concerted signal from the rest of the Brigade. Colonel [William T.] Haskell[51] at once commenced forming his Regiment in a column of platoon, the flank of the column toward the work. His men having straggled a great deal this arrangement was attended with some difficulty—the men being literally shoved into their places one by one. Hardly two platoons were formed when General Pillow shouted out at the top of his voice—“Why the H—l dont Colonel Wynkoop file to the right?” I may here observe that we had heard very distinctly the commands of the Mexican officers in their works. This yell of the General’s was at once followed by the blast of a Mexican bugle and within three minutes after that their fire opened upon us. The General may have shouted this before a single platoon of Haskell’s was formed—but the interval must have been very short, because Wynkoop’s Regiment had not reached its destination and had not formed there when the firing commenced.

When the Mexican fire opened Haskell’s Regiment became at once “confusion worse confounded.” Some of the men rushed toward the works, many broke to the rear, very many immediately took cover behind the rocks, etc. I at once asked General Pillow for orders to proceed “somewhere” with my detachment—for I had as yet received no orders or directions from anyone and was utterly ignorant of the ground. While talking with the General—who was squatting down with his back to the work—he was wounded in the arm, upon which his aide, Lieutenant Rains, appeared from somewhere in the vicinity and they together went off to the rear, on the run. I then went in amongst the Tennesseeans and found at once that it was useless to attempt doing anything there, as that Regiment (Haskell’s) was utterly broken and dispersed and the Pennsylvania Regiment, which was to support them, had kept so well in reserve that they could not be found. I then went over to the other side of the ravine—the firing had by this time nearly if not altogether ceased.

Upon arriving there I found Campbell’s Regiment in pretty good order and in good spirits, the Pennsylvania Regiment (Wynkoop’s) in most horrible confusion. Campbell was moving on toward the work, and I at once advised General Pillow to halt him until some order could be restored to the other Regiments. He took my advice and directed me to give the order to Campbell, which I did. I thought that it was by no means certain that Campbell alone could carry the works and that if he were checked or repulsed all was lost, for there was not a company formed to support him. Besides, although his Regiment was moving on well, they were not then under fire, nor had they been under any fire, to speak of, that day—so I doubted the steadiness of their movements when their advance should have brought them in sight and under the fire of, the Mexicans.

Colonel Haskell came up without his cap about this time and a very warm conversation ensued between him and General Pillow—the General accusing him of misconduct and deserting his troops, the Colonel repelling his assertions and stating that his Regiment was cut to pieces. I at once, without saying a word to either the General or the Colonel, called to my party and directed them to beat the bushes for “2nd Tennesseeans” and to bring all they could find to where we were. They soon returned with quite a number.

In the course of conversation I told General Pillow that I did not think that he could carry the works without some Regulars. He assented and directed me to go at once in search of General Scott and ask him, from him (Pillow) for a detachment of Regulars—whatever number he could spare, saying that he would make no movement until my return. I immediately ran down to the road where I expected to find General Scott and Worth’s Division and there found that the General had gone on. I jumped on my mare and galloped around by Twiggs’s road and at length found the General about half way up the ridge over which Worth’s Division passed to reach the Jalapa road—the rear of Worth’s Division was then crossing. I told the General my message and he directed me to say to General Pillow that he had no Regulars to spare, that the last of Worth’s Division was then passing over, that Santa Anna had fallen back with all his army, except about 5000 men, toward Jalapa, that he expected to fight another battle with Santa Anna at once, and that he thought it probable that the 5000 men cut off would surrender—finally that General Pillow might attack again, or not, just as he pleased. He evidently was not much surprised and not much “put out” that Pillow was thrashed, and attached no importance to his future movements.

With this reply I returned, and could not for a long time, find any of the valiant Brigade. I at length found Wynkoop’s Regiment. He told me that white flags were flying on the work and that one or two had come down toward his position—but that as he did not know what they meant, could not raise a white handkerchief in the crowd, and had no one who could speak Spanish, he had held no communication with them. I told him what they meant and said that when I had seen General Pillow I would return and go to meet them. As I left he asked me if I could not give him an order to charge—I said “No”—then said he—“Tell General Pillow that if I dont get an order to charge in half an hour, I’ll be d—d if I dont charge anyhow”—this after I had told him that the white flag meant a surrender!!!

I at length found General Pillow some distance in rear and reported. Castor came up a moment or two afterward and told General Pillow that he had been sent to inform him that the Mexicans had surrendered—on which I took my men down the road and directing them to come on and rejoin the company as soon as possible—I galloped on to overtake it. During my conversation with General Scott he mentioned that he had seen the charge of Twiggs’s Division and spoke of it as the most beautiful sight that he had ever witnessed. He said everything in praise of his “rascally Regulars.”

With reference to the operations of Twiggs’s Division.—During the afternoon of the 17th [April] the hill opposite to and commanded by the Telegraph Hill was carried by Harney’s ([Persifer F.] Smith’s) Brigade and the enemy pursued partly up the Telegraph Hill by the Rifles and 1st Artillery. They were, however, recalled to the hill first mentioned, which was occupied in force.

During the night one twenty-four pounder, one twelve pounder and a twenty-four pound howitzer were with great difficulty hauled up and put in position behind a slight epaulment. There were also a couple of the Mountain Howitzers and some Rocketeers. Shields’s[52] Brigade of Volunteers were somewhere in the vicinity to support and were employed to man the drag ropes used to haul up the pieces. It may be well to mention that they were more than once “stampeded” while engaged in this by the mere discharge of a piece—no ball coming near them. Another detachment of New York Volunteers was engaged during the afternoon and night of the 17th in hauling an eight-inch howitzer along the crest on the other side of the “Rio” in order to take an enfilade or reverse fire upon the Mexican works. Taylor’s Battery was with Twiggs, Dunean came around with Worth—Steptoe was with Twiggs. The cavalry and rest of the artillery were in the Jalapa road ready to advance in pursuit.

Harney was directed to storm the hill, Reilly to cut off the retreat of the Mexicans by the Jalapa road—Worth to support. The affair of the 18th was opened, on our side, by the fire of our artillery. The 24 pounder was badly served and did little or no real damage. At length Harney charged over the valley with the 1st Artillery, 3rd and 7th Infantry, the Rifles being thrown out to cover his left. He carried the hill in gallant style. Reilly allowed himself to deviate from his proper path and instead of pushing straight on for the Jalapa road, he amused himself by skirmishing to his right and left—so that he did not accomplish the purpose for which he was sent, that is, he did not cut off Santa Anna’s retreat.

In the meantime Shields was sent around still further to our right, to turn the Mexican left. He finally came out in front of certain batteries, charged them but was repulsed completely and himself badly wounded. About this time Harney carried the Telegraph Hill and that commanding these last batteries, one or two discharges from its summit with the captured pieces at once cleared them. Upon that the Volunteers right gallantly charged and carried them at the point of the bayonet, there not being a soul in the battery at this time.

Twiggs—at least a part of his Division—moved on at once in pursuit. The Cavalry soon followed, but the Mexicans had gained a long start and made the best use of their legs—so that not very many were killed or taken in the pursuit. Twiggs and the Cavalry also the Volunteers halted at Encero. Worth remained at Plan del Rio and Cerro Gordo. I myself overtook my company at Encero where we bivouacked that night—and felt right proud that we had won that day a glorious victory.

On the morning of the 19th we marched from Encero to Jalapa, about twelve miles, at the head of Twiggs’s Division. We entered Jalapa about 11.30 A. M., our company being the first American infantry to set foot in that city. It rained quite violently during the greater part of the march, which prevented me from enjoying fully the beauty of the scenery, especially as I had to foot it. It was really delightful, upon entering Jalapa, to see gentlemen and ladies, at least persons dressed and appearing as such. The white faces of the ladies struck us as being exceedingly beautiful—they formed so pleasing a contrast to the black and brown complexions of the Indians and negroes who had for so long been the only human beings to greet our sight. The Jalapiños appeared perfectly indifferent about us, manifesting neither pleasure nor sorrow at our approach. Our march from Encero and entrance into Jalapa was entirely undisturbed—not a shot being fired or soldiers seen. Of course not the slightest excess was committed by any of the Regulars. We at first marched to the Cuartel [Barracks] where we remained some few hours, until at last we were ordered to a posada [sleeping place] on the Plaza.

I was very much pleased with the appearance of Jalapa and its inhabitants. The women were generally pretty, the gentlemen well dressed. They carried to a great extent the custom of filling the balconies with flowers, which gave a very pleasant appearance to the streets. Soon after we had established ourselves at the posada we were astonished by a great commotion in the streets, which was ascertained to be caused by the arrival of the Cerro Gordo prisoners, who had all been released on parole, and of course fought us again upon the first opportunity. They were marching back to Puebla and Mexico, organized in regiments, etc.—merely being deprived of their arms. The disgust in the Division at this release was most intense, we felt poorly repaid for our exertions by the release of these scoundrels, who, we felt sure, would to a man break their parole. They passed the night in the streets around the Plaza and in the morning robbed all the poor market women in the vicinity.[53]

We had no beds that night—our baggage not being up—were lucky enough to get some frijoles and chocolate for supper—breakfast ditto. Worth’s Division came up about one o’clock on the 20th and we were ordered on at the head of it,—to leave Jalapa at 3.30 of the same day.

City of Mexico,[54] opposite Alameda, November 3rd, 1847. G. W. thinks that a captain will be sent out to command the Company, and that he (G. W.) will be relieved by the 1st March, 1848. Mc. thinks that no captain will come and that the unfortunate “duet” wont get out under a year, or longer. Quien Sabe?

April 15th, Post Office—Captain hasn’t “arrivo”—duet still here—year most half out and a’in’t off yet!!![55]

September 22nd, 1849—West Point, N. Y. Mc. thinks that he’s booked for an infernally monotonous life for the remainder of his natural existence and wishes he were back again in No. 2 Calle San Francisco.

August 25th, 1852—Solitary and alone on the “Columbus”—for New Orleans.

December 25th, 1852—Solitary and alone at Indianola [Texas]! Heavens! What a Christmas!