by F. M. Parker
Lee should be there with the men of the three brigades for that was where the fighting would be. He stowed his glasses and struck out along the edge of the lava. Half a mile later, he came down off the lava and crossed San Angel Road. A short distance later, he encountered the picket line Smith had set up outside the village.
“Where’s General Smith’s headquarters?” Lee asked the first picket he met.
“It’s in the church, sir,” replied the soldier.
Lee entered San Geronimo and proceeded to the church, the largest building in the village, and whitewashed as seemed to be the country’s custom. The headquarters’ guard saluted.
“Is the general here?”
“Yes, sir, in the big room on the right side. You can get there by going around to a door on the side of the church.”
Lee circled the building and came to two soldiers standing guard. Through an open doorway, Lee saw Riley and Cadwalader were present and in conversation with Smith.
Smith’s aid announced Lee presences and the three generals came outside. Smith, the senior general, looked up at the heavens where thick, dark clouds were gathering menacingly. “Going to be a wet night, major,” he said.
“I believe so, sir,” Lee said. He respected Smith’s skill as a senior officer and his bravery and was pleased he was in command of the Americans caught in this perilous position between two powerful enemy forces.
“I’m glad that you’ve come,” Smith said. “Have you talked with General Pillow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any new orders from him?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Tell us what General Scott had to say about our plan?”
“He said to take Padierna.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do, by God. And we’ve found a better way to get at the Mexicans there. McClellan and Tower explored the ground between us and Padierna and found a ravine that’s unguarded and leads around to the rear of the hill.”
“That makes it possible to come up behind them while they think we’re going to strike from the front,” Cadwalader added with a grim smile.
“What about the enemy force to the north of us?” Lee asked.
“Let’s go inside and talk this through,” Smith said.
The council of war went on with night falling and a heavy, cold rain driving in to drum on the roof of the church. Thunder crashed and jarred the earth and shook the church and rattled the window of the room. The four officers raised their voices and leaned closer over the table and maps so as to be heard by their fellow warriors. The discussion went on until at last a plan that all agreed to had been thrashed out.
Smith straightened and spoke to Lee. “It would increase our chances of taking the hill if General Scott would order a demonstration of infantry in front of it to draw the defenders attention from the true direction of our assault.”
“I’ll go and tell him the plan and request he order one,” Lee said. They had reached a decision for Smith to attack Padierna with his nine hundred infantrymen from the rear and before daybreak. Smith requested Lieutenant Tower lead the way to the rear of the hill and Lee gave his concurrence. As for the larger Mexican force to the north, Riley and Cadwalader would stand with their brigades in its path should it move upon the Americans. They would have to hold off the much larger force until the capture of the hill was completed. Lee thought that it they could quickly rout the troops on Padierna, the larger force would not have time to attempt a counterstroke. This was a risky supposition, but taking Padierna was worth the gamble.
“I’d better get going,” Lee said, and dreading the journey across the lava through the darkness. Just simply making the trip would be difficult and dangerous, and now he had the cold, driving rain to fight through.
“One last word, major. We can’t delay this action because we’re exposed here and the enemy out numbers us too greatly. It’s either move on them or withdraw, and I’m not for withdrawing. I’ll leave camp at 3 AM. And I AM going to attack even if you don’t bring word from the general.”
“I’ll do my best to convince General Scott to accept our plan. And I believe he will.” If any man could lead infantrymen to take Padierna, then that man was Persifor Smith.
Lee left the warmth and dryness of the church and went out into the thunder and lightening and the cold rain that swiftly soaked him to the skin. He crossed the San Angel Road, while behind him the heavy rain cut off the lights of San Geronimo. Now he had nothing to guide him except the wind he had marked coming from the northwest, and the view the light from an occasional jagged spear of lightening gave him. He groped his way forward and upon the lava and struck out on what he thought was to the east.
Lee went on step-by-step, and all the time holding the cold, wind driven rain to strike his face at a chosen angle. For a time much too long the lightening held back its light from him, then it flashed in multiple bolts, shooting down from the heavens to run like skeletons across the black lava. In the white glare, he caught a glimpse of the road his men had so laboriously built earlier in the day. He dashed forward onto it and was thankful for every pick and hammer blow that had taken some of the edges off the accursed lava. Yet even here he went slowly for he could so easily lose the road in the blackness.
He tripped and fell, and rose to hobble on through the pitch-dark night and gradually worked the pain out of his twisted ankle. He must reach Scott. The lightening was a savior, for without its now and again momentary flash of light he was certain he would drift left or right and lose the road. To wander off it was to court a broken leg, or worse. At times he knew he had lost the way by the feel of the lava beneath his feet, and he stopped and waited for the next flash of light, when he would veer back onto the road and hurry onward.
To his immense relief, in the ghostly glare of the light from a zigzag bolt of lightening, he caught a glimpse of Zacatepec ahead. Now he must find the American sentries and risk being shot before he could identify himself.
After three tortuous miles on the lava, drenched, and sore from falls, Lee passed through the sentries and into the American camp at Zacatepec. A sentry pointed out the headquarter tent.
“Come in out of the rain,” General Pierce called to Lee upon his knock on the wooden tent pole. “You looked drowned.”
Lee entered, shook some of the water off, and saluted. “Nearly am, general,” Lee said. Pierce had been forced to his bed when injured by the fall of his horse upon the rough lava. Why did generals feel they had to be horseback when lesser men had to walk?
“What brings you out in the rain?”
“To inform General Scott that General Smith will attack Padierna at first light tomorrow. He strongly requests a demonstration be made in front of the hill. Where is General Scott, sir?”
“General Scott and Twiggs both have returned to San Augustin.”
“Then I must be on my way.” He felt time running out for him to help Smith and his men.
Lee saluted quickly, pushed the flap of the tent open, and plunged back into the rain and wind. There was another three miles of lava to cover.
*
Close to exhaustion, Lee finally saw the dim lights of San Augustin. Dripping water from the rain and every muscle aching with weariness, he passed through the sentries and came to Scott’s headquarters. He was surprised to find Scott up and writing at his desk for the time was near midnight.
“Come in, major!” Scott exclaimed upon seeing Lee at his door. He jumped up from his desk and came forward and clasped Lee by the hand. “My, God, man, you look beat. Take a seat.” He motioned Lee to the nearest chair.
“You have news from the front?” Scott asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s the situation?” Scott asked anxiously.
“General Smith will attack Padierna at daybreak, and he’ll attack from the rear and has asked for a demonstration in front of the hill.” Lee said. “Santa-Anna has assembled some four or five divisions just to the north to threaten the operatio
n. The brigades of Cadwalader and Riley will try to hold Santa-Anna off while Smith’s assaults the hill.”
Scott instantly grasped the situation and knew what was required. He turned to the door and shouted. “Sergeant, bring general Twiggs here on the double. On the double, I say.”
“Now give me the details,” Scott said to Lee.
They had talked but a moment when Old Davey entered. Scott faced about from talking with Lee.
“General Twiggs, a demonstration is needed before Padierna. And it’s needed at first light.” Scott turned back to Lee. “How many men would you recommend?”
“A full regiment to join up with the four companies and three batteries of artillery already there. We must convince the Mexicans that we’re going to strike in strength.”
“Make it a regiment,” Scott said to Twiggs.
“I’ll use one of Pierce’s that’s at Zacatepec for it’s the nearest.”
“Then be on your way,” Scott said and prodding Twiggs to hurry.
“I’ll need a guide,” Twiggs said and looking at Lee with his meaning clear.
Lee heart sank at the general’s words. He had been moving steadily without rest since daybreak, and had crossed the lava twice. He wanted to get dry and warm. Then something to eat, a long drink of water, and to sleep.
“Yes, sir, I’ll go with you,” Lee said.
“I’ll have my horse saddled and be ready to go in ten minutes. Meet me at my quarters.”
*
The rain dwindled down to a fine drizzle and ended shortly after Lee and Old Davey left headquarters. The clouds became broken and the moon found gaps in them and cast a pale silver glow down onto the lava road. The light allowed the men to hold their mounts to a fast walk with the iron sod hooves of the horses clanking dully on the black rock.
They reached Pierce’s bivouac and the sergeant of the headquarters’ guards let them approach. At the general’s bid to enter, Twiggs pushed inside the tent and immediately plopped down on a chair. Lee wearily took a second one.
“General Pierce, form up a regiment, every man Jack of them, and get it to Pillow before daylight,” Twiggs said without preamble and mopping his sweating, red face with a handkerchief. “Smith needs a demonstration in front of Padierna.”
“I’m unable to walk,” Pierce said from his bed. “I’ll send Colonel Ransom and his 69th.”
Pierce raised his voice and called, “Sergeant, do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find Colonel Ransom and tell him to report here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Colonel Ransom, a large, strongly built man, came into the tent and saluted the generals. “Yes, sir,” he said and looking at Pierce.
Pierce swiftly gave the colonel his orders to march his regiment. “And be certain that you have all your battle flags flying and bayonets fixed and that everything can be seen by the Mexicans on the hill,” Pierce directed.
“General, none of my men nor have I been over the lava in the direction of Padierna. I don’t believe it’s possible to lead my regiment there until daylight.”
Lee had been sitting with a stupor of weariness settling over him, but now it was washed away by the sudden flash of temper at Ransom’s statement of inability to carry out a mission. He spoke quickly, harshly, and forever afterwards would blame his loss of control to his weariness “Colonel, General Smith is moving right now with nine hundred of our boys to attack more than five thousand Mexicans in strong entrenchments. By God, he needs your regiment in front of Padierna by dawn.”
There was a silent gasp from the three senior officers, and their eyes whipped around to focus on Lee.
“So I’ll guide you for I’ve been over the route four times,” Lee hastily added to cover his lapse of protocol.
“I accept your help,” Ransom said, his expression showing anger at Lee’s rebuke, but also pleased that he had been gotten off the hook of his own blunder of complaining about the difficulty of carrying out an order.
*
Lee and Ransom with his regiment of infantrymen arrived at the western edge of the Pedregal in the first gray light of dawn. The three artillery batteries were directly ahead of Lee and he could see the infantry already present were spread equally left and right.
“I recommend your men would be most visible if they were to extend the line both directions,” Lee said and pointing out through the murk lying thick on the lava
Ransom had not said a word to Lee during the march from Zacatepec, and he didn’t now. He looked at Pillow standing nearby for orders. Pillow was busy glassing the Mexican entrenchments on the hill rising steeply just beyond the swift creek at their feet. Ransom shrugged and turned to his company captains that had gathered behind him.
“By alternate companies file left and right to extend the line. Once in position, draw all charges and load fresh ones. Then fix bayonets and show your flags. Don’t let your men hide in the rocks, but make them show themselves so they can be counted by the Mexicans. Stand ready to advance on the enemy at my command.”
A murmur of “Yes, sirs” rose from the captains.
The dawn grew brighter and Lee could see the companies of American infantry in their blue uniforms standing on top of the lava and facing Padierna. Bayonets had been unsheathed and fixed to musket barrels, and the company flags were unfurled and the staffs held high. A strong sense of pride swept over Lee and he felt good despite his near exhaustion. He had done his part, but where was Smith and his nine hundred.
The Mexicans cannons began to roar. Iron balls fell upon the American position. Here and there a man fell. The American cannons answered the fire pouring down upon them.
Lee heard a slackening in the Mexican fire. Through his glasses he noted confusion of the men in the entrenchments, with men looking behind them and up the hill. Then came the roar of volleys of musket fire from the crest of the hill above the Mexican guns and men began to fall in the trenches.
Blue clad men came streaming down the hillside in a running charge at the Mexicans. Seeing Smith’s infantry, Ransom shouted at his men and they dropped down the steep incline into the stream and up the far side through Mexican fire. Caught between the two American forces, scores of Mexicans leapt out of the trenches and fled. In other places Mexicans fought stoutly and fierce fighting with glint of bayonet and boil of gun smoke swirled across the hillside.
Lee saw Smith’s men turning captured Mexican guns and hurling shot after shot into the fleeing enemy. They ceased firing only when Ransom’s men got so close that they would be hit.
Lee saw the tide turn fully with enemy soldiers retreating in large numbers. Then the pockets of fighting ended. In but a quarter-hour after the first volley from American muskets, the firing was stilled, with the entire Mexican earthworks in the hands of the invader.
Those of the Mexican garrison who had abandoned the fighting early on were fleeing up the San Angel Road. Lee saw hundreds of the Mexican army on the plateau north of Riley and Cadwalader were also caught up in the panic and joining in the wholesale rout toward Mexico City. Riley’s and Cadwalader’s brigades were hustling to cut off the road and prevent more Mexicans from escaping. Already large numbers of prisoners were being rounded up.
Smith’s brigade came down off the hill and onto the San Angel Road. Yelling shrill cries of victory, they ran full tilt to catch the fleeing Mexican soldiers. Mexican cavalry, spurring their horses to outdistance the pursuing Americans, trampled many of their own infantrymen under the hooves of their mounts.
Now was the time to strike the remainder of Santa-Anna’s army, Lee thought. He hurried to his horse and hastened back across the lava to tell General Scott of the grand victory at Contreras.
He met Scott and his escort hurrying west mid-way of the lava field. Hearing the news, Scott lead them on to the San Angel Road and then north on the seven mile ride to Coyoacan.
CHAPTER 34
For two days Grant with the Fourth Infantry of Garland’s brigade lay thr
eatening the fortified hacienda of San Antonio and listened to Pillows division trade artillery and musket fire with the Mexicans near Contreras. They waited for Worth to give orders to move his division forward along the Acapulco Road and upon San Antonio once the enemy positions at Contreras had been taken. Grant didn’t want for this to be like Cerro Gordo where he was held back while other men did the fighting.
With the morning breaking, Grant and several other officers had gone into the Pedregal and climbed to a ridge of lava and were glassing to the west four miles to the enemy entrenched on the hill adjacent to the San Angel Road. Now the first sound of artillery of the morning reached them, and seconds later the roar of a huge volume of musket fire came rolling over the lava.
“The attack has begun,” Hazlit said from beside Grant.
“Yes, the cat’s in the cradle now,” Grant replied and still looking westward. Through his field glasses he saw the defenders desert their positions and run down the hillside to the road. A much larger gathering of troops to the north of the hill was also breaking and flooding down to the San Angel Road and fleeing toward the capital.
The bugle call to assemble pealed out from where Worth had positioned himself in the forefront of his men and the officers hastened off the lava and to their assigned stations. Clarke’s brigade moved out, veering left onto the lava to flank San Antonio and strike it from the north. Once Clarke was in place, Garland’s brigade would drive straight ahead up the causeway in a frontal assault.
Grant felt ready for the battle, more than that, he was anticipating the exhilaration and danger of combat. The realization came that he was always ready for a fight. At that thought, a cold tingle ran up his spine. Was there something wrong with him? Or were there many men who felt as he did? One thing he knew, that a man who fought bravely could kill more enemies.
