Soldiers of Conquest

by F. M. Parker

  Beauregard’s swarthy face became darker, nearly as dark as his eyes. “Yes, sir, captain. It has to do with Old Davey Twiggs. He almost marched the men into a trap to be slaughtered.” He pointed to the northwest where two miles distant the National Highway entered a narrow canyon. “Without reconnaissance he went straight in with Santa-Anna’s artillery and troops strongly entrenched on the high ground both sides of the Highway.”

  “And Patterson hadn’t come up yet?” Lee said and turned to look at the abrupt wall of the plateau and just now being lighted by the first rays of the sun.

  “That’s right. If one of the Mexican forward batteries hadn’t fired on us before we were deep in the canyon, it would have been pure and simple murder. As it was we managed to get our vehicles turned around and get the hell out with but a few men who were up front getting wounded. One of them hit was our friend Joe Johnston. He got a bullet through his right thigh and right wrist.”

  “By the time we pulled back to here to get out of gun range, it was near dark so we made camp. The next day Old Davey sends me and the other engineers to do reconnoitering. About dark Patterson comes up with his division. He’s sick so he puts his men under Twiggs.

  “I reported to Twiggs what I’d seen. Santa-Anna was entrenched with a strong force of men with many cannons and sitting astride the Highway and controlling all the high ground. I advise against attacking him. But the general wouldn’t listen. He had command of two divisions and wasn’t about to let the opportunity to fight a great battle get away from him. He ordered preparations for a direct assault for the following morning.”

  Beauregard locked eyes with Lee. “I stewed and stewed about the attack. Then I did something that a lieutenant should never do. It was near midnight but even so I went and woke Patterson and told him my evaluation of Santa-Anna’s strength and the hazard of us trying to dislodge him by a frontal assault. The old gentlemen listened and asked some questions, then he got up out of his sick bed and put on his uniform. He took command away from Twiggs and suspended the preparations for an assault. The following morning, he sent me with some of the other engineers out for a more complete reconnaissance. We found Santa-Anna to be better positioned than we had thought from our first look-see.

  “Goddamnit, captain, I’m in big trouble for I’ve got General Twigs mad at me for causing him to lose command of the biggest force of men he ever had.”

  “You most likely saved Scott’s army and I think he’ll greatly appreciate that. So I wouldn’t worry about Twiggs too much.”

  “Then you tell General Scott what happened for you know that I can’t.”

  “I’ll do that the first chance I get.”

  Lee glanced past Beauregard and saw McClellan coming from headquarters. “I’m betting Scott wants a report from you,” he said to Beauregard.

  Upon drawing closer, McClellan called out. “Captain, General Scott wants to see you and Beauregard.”

  When the three entered the big tent, Scott spoke without preamble. “Lieutenant Beaureard, General Patterson has told me you did reconnaissance of Santa-Anna’s position and strength.”

  “Yes, sir, with some other engineers.”

  “Tell me what you saw.”

  “His line roughly runs north and south and is about a mile and a half long. His right is solidly anchored on the nearly vertical five hundred foot wall of the Rio Del Plan, and his left on steep, rough hills and gorges to the north. He has a large force and cannon well placed.”

  “Can his position be turned?”

  “I don’t believe his right flank can because of the deep canyon of the river. Perhaps his left could be. We need more reconnaissance on that end to determine that.”

  “Then let’s get to it. Major Lee, take Beauregard and examine Santa-Anna’s front and flanks in detail, and if possible take a look behind him.”

  *

  Lee filled his canteen from the rock-rimmed pool of water created by the spring flowing out from a crevice in the ledge above. He straightened and drank deeply of the pure, cold liquid as he looked through the trees to the south across the front of the Mexican army. He had left shortly after receiving orders from Scott to reconnoiter the enemy’s positions. He had started on Santa Anna’s right that overlooked the river and worked to his left, preparing a sketch map showing the topography and recording what he could see of the entrenched soldiers and cannons and estimating the numbers of each.

  Beside Lee, Lieutenant John Fitzwalter, finished filling his canteen and stood up. He drank noisily. “Damn good,” Fitzwalter said.

  Lee would have preferred to have Beauregard with him, and had started out with him, however near the end of the first day, the Creole had fallen ill and returned to camp. As substitute, Lee had chosen from among his company of engineers the lean, athletic Fitzwalter.

  “Fitz, look,” Lee said and pointed at the well-trod path coming to the spring from the south, and then at the much trampled grass and soil around the spring and its pool of water.

  “This water hole is used by a lot of men,” Lee said. “And all come from the same direction. I think we’ve gotten around Santa-Anna’s left and are now behind him.”

  “Could be, captain, for I don’t see any sign of men or guns north or west of us.”

  Lee scanned the ravines and ridges lying to the east and all running down to the Rio Del Plan. The American encampment lay in the same direction. “That land is rough, rocky, and with trees and brush, but I think a trail could be built good enough that men could drag guns over it.”

  “A few hundred could…“

  “Quiet,” Lee cut in and cocked his head to listen to men’s voices that were suddenly audible speaking Spanish on the path just down the hill. The men must have broken above a lip of the hill and their voices now came through the trees to him. The sounds of their steps and conversations swiftly grew stronger.

  “Mexican soldiers and it’s too late to run,” Lee said hurriedly. “Find a hole to hide in.”

  Fitzwalter sprang across the small clearing that surrounded the spring, dove into a clump of brush, and fell flat. Lee went off to the left of Fitzwalter, jumped over a log lying on the ground and bordered with a thin screen of brush, pulled both pistols, and dropped to the ground. He wedged himself in tight as possible against the bottom of the log, being about half hidden under its out-swelling shoulder.

  Lee hazarded a look and rose up to peer over the log. A squad of six Mexican soldiers had come up to the spring and were kneeling and filling canteens. He ducked as three of them turned and came toward the log. They sat down with their backs toward him and their rumps only inches away. He listened to their conversation and heard the words Yankees and Norte Americanos and wished he knew the language.

  A voice called out sternly. All conversation died and the men hastily rose and Lee heard them leave the spring.

  Silence held only for a moment and then another group of men arrived, drank, and filled canteens. A shadow fell across Lee as one of the men came to the log and stepped across it with his heel landing an inch from Lee’s shoulder. He moved on a few steps and relieved himself with his stream splashing on the ground.

  Lee prepared to make a fight of it for when the man faced about to return to the spring, he couldn’t miss seeing him lying by the log. He would spring to his feet and kill the soldier with a pistol shot, and then run and try to dodge the bullets of the remaining soldiers.

  The man turned but not toward Lee. He took a course to pass around the end of the log. Lee let his breath out and his muscles uncoiled a little.

  The men left as others come to the spring, and the rotation continued on and on. Often men prowled around as they drank and talked, and some come to the log and sat with their butts just above Lee. He remained perfectly still with the red ants that had found him biting and biting and raising welts that stung like fire.

  The long hours passed. The shadows grew long and swung around to point to the east as the sun fell toward the horizon. At last the shadows
blurred as twilight came. The procession of soldiers ended and the last loiters shuffled off.

  Lee continued to lay and listen for danger as the day burned away to black ash. When the night insects come to life and begin their nighttime chatter and a frog began to croak at the spring, he rose stiffly to his feet.

  “Fitz, you still there?” Lee called softly.

  “Still here, captain.”

  “Time to go.” He went to the spring and lay down. As he lowered his head to drink from the quiet black pool of water, he saw the stars of the heavens lensed in perfect stillness. Reluctant to destroy the grand beauty of the reflection, he remained poised over the water for several seconds. How strange life was, a short time ago he was close to being killed and now he was alive and looking at the perfect heavens. His engineer’s mind said “no that’s not correct” and he smiled a little, he was seeing the heavens in reverse. Then again maybe this was reality and his normal viewing was in reverse. The stars shattered and vanished as he drank sending ripples radiating out across the water.

  “Let’s get to our lines,” Lee said to Fitzwalter who had come up.

  “I hope you got cat’s eyes, captain. I can’t see a thing and we’ve got some Godawful country to cross.”

  “I’ve got it calculated at four miles. First we go east over three ranges of hills and then turn south until we can see our fires.”

  Slipping on the steep slopes, tripping on rocks and down trees, the two men felt their way over the rough ground. After a difficult trek, they topped a hill and the hundreds of watch-fires of the American encampment came into view below them. It was a fine starry night and a cool breeze stirred and the men were grouped around the fires. Loud voices and laughter drifted up to Lee. If it wasn’t for the posted sentinels, the scene might have been taken for some gay festival instead of the camp of American warriors.

  Lee called out to the pickets and he and Fitzwalter were let pass. Battered and bruised, they came into the camp. He released Fitzwalter from duty and immediately directed his steps toward Scott’s headquarters’ tent where a light burned.

  CHAPTER 20

  In the light of the two oil lanterns hanging from the ridgepole of Scott’s headquarters’ tent, Lee spread upon a table the map he had prepared of the position of Santa Anna’s army. Present to hear his report were Scott and his staff officers, General Twiggs, and General Patterson and his field generals, Pillow, Shields, and Quitman.

  Lee began. “General, I started on the enemy’s right and found it overlooks the river with its perpendicular bluffs, just as Lieutenant Beauregard said. And I agree with him that a turning action here would have little chance to succeed without a large loss of men. Back from the river, the ground rises fast to three tall ridges that extend out toward our positions. All the ridges are crowned with well-sighted batteries of artillery protected by entrenched men. Just north of the ridges the National Highway climbs up through a vertical walled pass to the high plateau. On a high point is a Mexican battery of guns that could strike any force that we should try to send along the Highway. Two high observations points La Atalaya and El Telegrafo are here about two miles behind Santa Anna’s line.” He touched the map. “The Mexican general has chosen his ground well for defensive action.”

  “Did you get behind his line?” Scott asked.

  “Yes, sir. We passed around his left flank, but then got penned down until dark by a Mexican patrol and that prevented us from going farther.”

  “Thanks for you report, captain,” Scott said. He leaned over the map and rested his elbows on the table and silently studied the map.

  Lee felt the man’s deep concentration as his agile mind evaluated what had been told to him and the possible courses of action that could be derived from the facts.

  Without looking up, Scott said, “From what you’ve reported to us, our most logical point of attack is on Santa Anna’s left. Is that also you conclusion?”

  “Yes, sir, it is,” Lee replied. He thought Scott would ask the other generals their opinion. However Scott spoke again to Lee.

  “How do we get enough men and guns there for a strong assault?”

  “Sir, the land is extremely steep and rough as I described, but give me a company of men and I’ll take my engineers and build a trail sufficient to move our men and guns.”

  “Do you have any other observations to make to us?”

  Lee would speak the obvious. “Though Santa Anna is well positioned with a large number of men and artillery pieces, the deep ravines and tall ridges that makes him strong on the defensive would prevent him from reinforcing any sector of his line that we decide to strike.”

  Scott straightened and swept the gathering of generals with eyes that showed he had come to a decision. “Gentlemen, I am satisfied with what Captain Lee has reported. We can defeat Santa-Anna even though he has much advantage over us. As the captain said, he lacks one important ingredient to successfully repel us, mobility to move his men. Our main attack will be on Santa Anna’s left in the hills, however we must hit him in other places at the same time.

  “We are very fortunate in that our men are half veterans and have had victories in the north with General Taylor, while Santa Anna’s men haven’t yet won their first battle. An army that has repeated victories becomes invincible. Hear me plain, when you strike him and he breaks, pursue him as long as your men have strength to follow for an army routed, if hotly pursued, becomes panicked-stricken and can be destroyed by half its numbers.

  Now let us plan where we will strike him and how to cut off his escape, to bottle him up and end the war here and now.”

  *

  The stomp of booted feet, clank of arms, and muted voices of an army assembling to march to battle woke Lee from his sleep at 4.30 in darkness. All the preceding day and until night stole away vision, he and eight of his engineers had worked with a company of infantrymen to hew out a crude trail through the steep ridges and ravines covered with trees and chaparral.

  He pulled on his boots, he had slept in his clothing, and stood erect. Scott’s orders to his generals for the assault on Santa Anna’s line had been given. During the meeting, there had been one unpleasant incident when Pillow received his orders to march to Santa-Anna’s far right near the river and attack his lines. If Pillow could break through, he was to drive upon the Mexican forward batteries and pursue the fleeing foe until darkness, or halted by fortifications. Pillow had complained that his task was too dangerous, proclaiming it a desperate undertaking. Scott tried to reassure the civilian general. Pillow wouldn’t be reassured, and in the end Scott threatened him with discipline. At that, Pillow said he would obey the order even if he left his bones in Mexico.

  *

  In darkness Lee and Twiggs rode their horses in the lead of the division moving with its three gun battery of artillery along the National Highway and climbing ever higher into the hills where lay Santa-Anna’s army. To prevent stumbling into the enemy, a rifle regiment of skirmishers was feeling the way out in advance of the mile long cavalcade of men and guns. When daylight broke, they had reached the intersection of the Highway with the new trail and Lee led them off to the right along it.

  The sun came up yellow and hot and grew hotter as the men marched steadily on. Distant objects stood out distinctly. The clarity of the day worried Lee for should they be seen by the Mexicans lookouts on La Atalaya, all surprise would be lost.

  When they drew near the crest of a high ridge, Lee reined his mount to a stop. Twiggs halted beside him.

  “What’s the problem, captain?”

  “General, we can be seen by the Mexicans when we cross over that,” he gestured ahead at the ridge top. “I recommend we build a screen of brush to hide the men and guns.”

  “We have no time for that,” Twiggs said in a rebuking voice and shook his big white head. “Everything depends on us getting into position and taking La Atalaya before dark.” He raised an arm and gave the signal to march.

  Lee said nothing further an
d rode on with Twiggs. The lead element of the division was soon on the summit with the cannons and the muskets of the men bright in the sunlight. If the Mexicans were alert, they could not fail to see the Americans moving in strength.

  Twiggs called a rest halt and Lee took the opportunity to put his glass on La Atalaya two miles away and El Telegrafo another half mile farther. The men on the two hills, though much miniaturized by the distance, were visible, and hustling about. As Lee had feared, he Americans had been seen.

  “General, the Mexicans are hurrying reinforcements to La Atalaya.”

  Twiggs aimed his glass and studied the hill. After a minute, he said, “Won’t do them any good. We’ll still take it.”

  Yes, our stout men will take the hill, but because you wouldn’t build the screen, more American blood will stain the ground than should happen.

  By mid-morning the three brigades were less than half a mile from La Atalaya. With his army protected for the time being in the bottom between two ridges, Twiggs halted and called Colonel Harney forward.

  “Colonel, take two regiments and capture La Atalaya.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Harney. “How far should I drive them?”

  “Drive them to hell!” Twiggs bellowed loud mouthed, and showing excitement now that the battle was commencing.

  Harney signaled to his captains who were watching from the front of their men, and led them off the trail and into the chaparral and trees toward La Atalaya.

  Colonel Riley rode up. “Captain Lee, help Lieutenant Steptoe take our guns to the top of the hill soon as Harney clears it of the enemy.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lee said. He rode back to Steptoe near the guns that had been dragged along by a platoon of men on each. Now the huge effort of taking them up the long, nearly vertical front of three hundred foot tall La Atalaya lay before them. He and Steptoe organized a three hundred man team for each gun from Patterson’s brigade of volunteers.

  Lee remained near the artillery and watched Harney and his blue clad men charging the flank of La Atalaya. They slowed with several men falling when the Mexicans opened fire down upon them. The regiments regained momentum and swept on and after a short, stiff exchange of musket fire, chased the Mexicans from the top and down into the valley beyond.