Soldiers of Conquest

by F. M. Parker

  Conner swept his hand to encompass the gathering of sailing ships and the forest of masts covering the waters of the bay. “General, the day of the windjammer, of every kind of sailing vessel will soon be over. And it’s all because of that,” he pointed down at the steam driven Patrita with its stack giving off a thin black ribbon of smoke. “I’m glad that I’m retiring,” he said sadly.

  “Don’t retire too soon, commodore. We still have work to do.”

  “I won’t desert you just yet,” Conner said with a faint smile upon his wasted, furrowed face.

  The two senior officers received and returned the salutes of the officers on the deck and went into the Massachusetts’s war room. The general and the commodore seated themselves at the head of the table.

  Scott’s cabinet officers and the division generals filed into the room and took seats around the table. Lee began to evaluate these men with which he would fight a war. General Worth was a square built man with a broad face, deeply set eyes, and an erect and commanding military bearing. He had pronounced that he would win a grade or death in the war. General Twiggs, bull-necked, silver bearded and silver headed, was an aggressive fighter whose main tactic in battle was to charge the enemy. General Patterson was the oldest of Scott’s generals, and a wealthy man with a quiet and reserved way about him. He had no ambition to attain higher rank and was here to “Participate in the capture of the Mexican Nation” as he put it.

  Patterson, due to his age and knowing much of the fighting of his brigade of volunteers would have to be done by his subordinates, had brought his three brigade commanders with him, Generals James Shields, John Quitman, and Gideon Pillow. Shields and Quitman were experienced battle officers. Pillow had no military experience and his only qualification for appointment as an army general was that he had been President Polk’s law partner and had helped him become president by bringing about his nomination for that office at the Baltimore convention in 1844.

  Lee watched as Scott silently regarded his subordinates. Scott at sixty had been a general officer for half his life, having made his first star as a brilliant artillery officer and had had a substantial part in the Americans beating the British at Chippewa in 1815. Shortly thereafter he had been wounded at Lundy’s Lane and made a prisoner by the British for a month. He had commanded the armed forces during the Seminole Indian War in 1839, and had been the American Army’s chief officer since 1841. His insistence on military spit-and-polish had earned him the name of Old Fuss And Feathers.

  Lee knew Scott would be measuring his officers against what he knew lay ahead. Scott could make plans and give orders, however the execution of them lay with his field officers and the success of the invasion and the march inland to conquer the Mexican capitol depended upon the judgment and courage of the men at this table.

  Scott caught Lee’s eyes upon him. The captain had the most penetrating look of all the officers. Knowing the engineers were the elite of West Point graduates, Scott had selected three of them for his aids. Lee, Lieutenant Pierre Beauregard and Lieutenant George McClellan. Lee had the best pedigree, his lineage going back a thousand years to England and before that to France. Beauregard, a young, swarthy faced Creole with black hair and eyes came highly recommended. The brainy McClellan, with his slim build and a little below average height appeared even more boyish than his twenty years. He had entered West Point at the tender age of fifteen. West Point rules had been waived to allow for his enrollment.

  Scott spoke in a no nonsense voice. “Gentlemen, let us begin. First I want to summarize our position for what lies ahead. Then we shall decide what to do, how to do it, and how quickly. Our greatest foe may well be yellow fever, el vomito as the Mexicans call it that arrives in this low country in early April. Whatever we are to do, must be accomplished before that scourge hits our men for it would destroy our army more efficiently than Mexican grapeshot. We must, and I repeat MUST be off the coast and into the highlands by the end of March. Another reason to swiftly capture Veracruz and Ulua is that Santa-Anna will receive word within a very short time that we are here in force and will march to defend the city.

  “Now to the means to capture the city and fort. Our plans for this operation called for twenty five thousand men. Because of a long list of reasons, delays in recruiting, companies of men sent to the wrong embarkation point, the cancellation of some transport ships when they should not have been, our force consists of but nine thousand men. Seven hundred of them are too ill to assist us in the coming battle. Adding to our problems, none of the heavy siege weapons that I ordered have arrived, and but one-third of the ammunition.

  “Only sixty-five of the one hundred and forty surfboats we planned for are here for our use. That means that twenty-five hundred men is the largest number we can land on the beach at one time. Once the loading of the surfboats begins, it must be done swiftly and the men taken ashore before the Mexican Army can assemble in front of us in sufficient force to repel the landing. This could well be the most dangerous action we undertake. By our ability to land but a small number of men, the Mexicans will have every chance to kill us piecemeal, or drive us into the sea.

  “But even with all that said, I mean to go forward and make a landing and take Veracruz and Ulua. Veracruz will be our first objective for I believe Ulua can’t be taken without an unacceptable loss of men. The landing will be a risky endeavor but we shall succeed. Now let us discuss who will lead the first wave of troops ashore, and the following ones.”

  Scott looked at Worth. “General, your two brigades of regulars shall lead the landing. Can you have them ready by tomorrow noon?”

  “Thank you for the privilege, general. My men are ready now. In fact, the longer we delay, the less fit they’ll be. Every day more men come down with some illness, much of it from the dirty, crowded ship’s holds they must live in.”

  “Then you shall be first. Take eight artillery pieces with you for you will in all probability need them.”

  Scott turned to Patterson. “General your volunteers shall be the second party to land.”

  “Yes, sir,” acknowledge the old general. He looked at Worth and Twiggs, and said proudly, “I know your regulars look down their noses at volunteers, but mine may just surprise you.”

  Scott’s spoke to General Twiggs. “General, your two brigades of regulars shall be the third wave.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Twiggs.

  “I shall write out your orders and have them to you later today.”

  Scott turned to Totten. “Colonel, we must throw a siege line around the city very quickly to prevent Mexican reinforcements from entering. You will insure ample tools are taken ashore for the men to clear away the brush and trees to do that. Immediately upon completion of the siege line, start your engineers in the construction of the sites for placement of our cannon.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Totten.

  Conner spoke. “General, my Colonel of Marines has asked for a company of his men be allowed to participate in the landing. I’d be pleased if you would accept three hundred of them. They would be under the command of Captain Watson.”

  Scott smiled for the first time since the meeting had begun. “With much gratitude, commodore.” Scott turned to Patterson. “General, take the Marines under your wing and use them in the best possible way.”

  “A pleasure, sir.”

  “Commodore Conner, how much covering fire can you give us?”

  “I have seven shallow draft gunboats that I can run in very close to provide covering fire with grape and canister if you are attacked while your surfboats are running in to the beach. And all my other ships will be standing by with their heavier guns to help as they can.”

  “Excellent. Now to establish a timetable….” General Scott ceased talking and looked out the hatchway to the main deck as a boatswain’s pipe sounded the identifying call of a high-ranking officer coming aboard.

  “That will be the British Commander,” said Scott. “I wish all of you to stay to hear what he has
to say. We shall finish our business after he leaves.”

  The young officer of the deck appeared in the doorway and self-consciously saluted the interior of the mess. “Sirs, British Captain Matson and British Consul Giffard are at the gangway and request to see you.”

  “Captain Matson is expected, lieutenant,” Scott said. “And I’m glad to see the British Consul is here. Show them the way.”

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant again saluted the interior of the mess and hastily left.

  Scott smiled with an ironic twist to his lips. “Gentlemen, keep this in mind during any dealings with the British, they are not our friends. The loss of the last war with us still rankles them. They and the French and Spanish objected strongly to our annexation of Texas, and later at Taylor’s march into northern Mexico. The “Morning Herald” of London, which is the British government‘s mouthpiece, and the “Paris Globe” which does much the same work for the French, condemn our campaign against Mexico most strongly. Both have predicted that the United States could not possibly defeat the Mexican Army on its own soil.”

  *

  The deck officer appeared at the doorway with the two Englishmen. Consul Giffard was a tall, lean man with a long nose and a wide mouth that turned down at the ends and gave him a sour expression. Fleet Commander Matson was also leanly built, but of ordinary height, and where Giffard appeared a sourpuss, Matson presented an unreadable military expression to the Americans.

  Matson came into the room, glanced past the junior officers, and immediately went to Commodore Conner and offered his hand. “Good to see you again, Commodore.”

  “And you to, Captain Matson.” Conner replied. “I would like to introduce you to General Scott.”

  Matson took Scott’s offered hand. “I’ve heard much about you, General Scott. My father has told me stories about fighting you Americans back in 1815. He met you while you were our guest after the battle of Lundy’s Lane.”

  ”That is a very polite way of putting my stay with you as a prisoner, Commander Matson,” Scott said.

  Matson nodded at that and spoke. “General Scott, I would like to introduce British Consul Giffard.”

  Scott turned to the second Englishman. “It’s kind of you to come, Consul Giffard.” He offered his hand to the Englishman.

  “Thank you, General Scott.” Giffard shook Scott’s hand and quickly released it.

  Seeming not to notice the brief handshake, Scott motioned at two empty chairs against the bulkhead. “Please both of you draw up seats and be comfortable as we talk. I’ve asked my officers to be present, if that meets with your approval.”

  “Most certainly,” Giffard said as he and Matson drew chairs up to the table.

  “Commander Matson, you signaled that you wished for this meeting, so would you please begin,” said Scott.

  “The signal wasn’t for me, but rather for Consul Giffard,” said Matson.

  “Ah, I see,” Scott said. He focused on Giffard. “Then, sir, would you inform me of its purpose. I suppose they concern your nation’s possessions in Veracruz and elsewhere in the nation.”

  Giffard’s dour expression remained. “Yes, that is precisely so for we have many valuable investments here and my government would take it seriously if they were to be damaged. And it appears that from all of the American ships and soldiers gathered here and at Anton Lizardo that you plan to attack Veracruz and Ulua.”

  “That’s correct, should they not surrender to me,” Scott said. “That will be my first step to force the Mexican government to the bargaining table and bring about a resolution to our disputes.”

  “General Scott, that is exactly why I’m here. I’m in a position to help in this situation for the Mexicans officials trust me and I can speak freely with them. So if you should care to enumerate those disputes to me in written form, then I believe I can be of assistance in resolving them without your invasion of the country.”

  “The disputes and issues are well known.” Scott tone was hard. “And we have tried in many ways to resolve them. There’ll be no negotiations with lower level Mexican officials, only with the president himself and the representatives of their congress.”

  “But, General, I do believe that I can be of assistance to you.”

  “You can indeed be of help.” Scott’s voice had hardened another notch. “Recommend to the Mexican military that they surrender Veracruz and Ulua to me, and do it promptly before I launch an attack. In that way your possessions in the city will be spared any damage that might occur by an inadvertent stray cannon ball.”

  “I couldn’t do that. They would think me mad for they are very strongly fortified.” Giffard said, and a scowl creased his brow as if the very thought of doing such a thing was painful.

  “Then I shall take them by cannon and musket,” Scott said icily. “And I shall assume no responsibility for the damage done to anything in the city.”

  Giffard’s scowl deepened and he pinched his lower lip as he struggled to hold back a sharp retort. He caught his emotions and his face became a mask. He removed a large folded paper from a pocket and spread it on the table in front of Scott. “I took note of your comments about stray cannon balls. In anticipation of the invasion going forward, I had this map of Veracruz prepared to assist you in avoiding British property during the battle.” With finger pointing at the map, he said. “This is our Consulate, and these are our warehouses, and this is a store house for some of Captain Matson’s naval supplies. All of the areas in red are British owned. These other areas in color and labeled are the Consulates of the other neutral nations.”

  Lee leaned forward to better see the Britisher’s map. It was drawn to scale and quite plainly the work of a skilled engineer. The American’s best map of Veracruz was one prepared by the Spanish in 1818. This one would be extremely valuable in sighting targets within the city.

  Giffard straightened in his chair and focused on Scott. ”The map is for your use so you can avoid our property with your cannon fire.” He paused. “Since you have a firm plan to invade, when will it occur? If I may ask?”

  “You may ask,” replied Scott. His mouth closed like a trap and his eyes shot an accusatory look at Giffard, as if to say, that question was out of order.

  Giffard spoke hastily. “General, I only ask because there are British nationals who plan to move their portable valuables to Commodore Matson’s ships, and to British merchant vessels. And the other nationals to their ships in the harbor. I merely wondered how much time they had to do that. And to further request that you don’t attempt to stop them.”

  “If I should attempt to stop such activity, then I would succeed,” Scott said matter-of-factly.

  Lee suppressed a smile. General Scott was here with an army and most of the American navy and spoiling for a fight. So that the British wouldn’t cause trouble, he was putting them in their place early in the campaign.

  Scott added in a conciliatory tone. “All neutrals may continue to come and go to the ships, or go inland if they desire. Mexican citizens may do likewise. We have no quarrel with either.”

  He smiled ruefully. “In fact, I would suggest that when you have your discussions with the Mexican officials that you tell them that all people, including the Mexican soldiers should leave both the city and the fort. Anything you can do to encourage them to do so would be to their welfare.”

  “Regarding Ulua,” Giffard said, his attitude and words were much subdued. “I’ve been in the Fort and I don’t believe a sea attack could capture it. I believe Captain Matson would agree with me that its many huge cannon could sink the greatest number of warships.” He spook to Commodore Conner. “Sir, I say this with no intention to belittle your fleet.”

  “No offense taken,” Conner replied. “It’s a strong fortification.”

  “Counsel Giffard, how many civilians in Veracruz?” Scott asks.

  “Many people have left to seek safety away from the city. I estimate that there are between six and seven thousand people remaining.”
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  “And how many soldiers?”

  Lee felt the total silence as every American in the room waited for Giffard’s response. How he answered this question was critical for it would indicate how the British would act during the coming hostilities, be neutral, or choose a side.

  Giffard retained his noncommittal expression and made the most of a situation he couldn’t control. “I estimate the number of Mexican troops in the city at four thousand. Further General Morales, commander of the city and fort, expects to soon receive substantial reinforcements that Santa-Anna has ordered from the twenty thousand man state militia.”

  “Do you think they will actually come?”

  “Who knows whether Santa-Anna has indeed ordered the militia here. He has believed for some time that you intended to invade Veracruz, but he may not know that you have arrived. And even if he has ordered the militia, will they come. Often the generals do what they want and not what they are ordered to do.”

  “Ah, yes, General Antonio Lopez de Santa-Anna. What is your evaluation of him?”

  “He’s a scoundrel. He’s hated by many in Mexico, disliked by most, and distrusted by nearly everybody, other governmental officials, army officers and the officials of the church. And let’s not forget husbands with pretty wives for he’s a woman chaser. And he’s a liar as you Americans fully know after him tricking your president into allowing him to pass through your blockade.”

  There were nods around the table. It was common knowledge among the officers that Santa-Anna had convinced the American Consul in Havana that should he be allowed to leave his exile in Cuba and return to Mexico that he could again become president and from that position negotiate a peace settlement with the Americans. The duped consul provided the information to Polk who then instructed Conner to allow Santa-Anna to pass through the blockade. Within weeks Santa-Anna was president of Mexico and general and chief of the army. He immediately marched north to battle General Taylor.

  “But I must say this about him, for audacity and cunning he can’t be matched by anyone in the Mexican army or government. He can sway any crowd to his way of thinking for he is a master with words.”