On his first full day in Puebla, Scott revisited the Nicholas Trist problem. As Scott was leaving Jalapa, he had received another letter from Trist dated May 20, which requested that Scott return the sealed letter from Secretary Buchanan. The diplomat also indulged in renewed criticism of Scott for not forwarding the dispatch to Mexican officials as requested. Just as he had done with Trist’s earlier missive of May 9, Scott set it aside without opening it. On May 22, Scott had an aide open both letters and read to him what totaled thirty pages of sarcastic insults and chastisements. As Scott was at that time on the road to Perote then Puebla, he waited several days to respond. Once established in his headquarters in the city, the general took pen in hand and wrote a venomous rejoinder. Even though a week had passed, Scott’s anger had cooled very little. He referred to Trist’s letters as a “farrago of insolence, conceit, and arrogance,” indicating that his first inclination had been to return them, but instead he decided to “preserve the letters as a choice specimen of diplomatic literature and manners.” He said that he was actually thankful that he had not been “degraded” by being appointed to serve with Trist on a peace commission, and he asked the diplomat to be brief in future correspondence, for Scott was very busy with army matters. In addition, he warned that if Trist ever sent him such condescending or “discourteous” letters again, “I shall throw back the communication with the contempt & scorn which you merit at my hands.”18
Trist had accompanied the army to Puebla, had in fact been with the army for six weeks but still had not met with the commanding general. Nor had he had any contact with the Mexican government or succeeded in delivering Buchanan’s secret dispatch. So on June 6, Trist wrote to his old acquaintance Charles Bankhead, the British minister to Mexico, requesting that the Englishman open a channel of communication with the government in Mexico City by forwarding Buchanan’s dispatch. Bankhead agreed and sent the secretary of the British Legation, Edward Thornton, to Puebla to retrieve the documents. Thornton arrived on June 10, and he and Trist discussed the best possible means of bringing about peace negotiations. When Trist mentioned that he had the authority to draw $3 million from the Treasury Department to facilitate negotiations, Thornton apparently suggested that spreading the money around to the right people would help move the process along. Thornton returned to the capital, the British passed along Buchanan’s sealed documents to the new Mexican foreign minister, Domingo Ibarra, and there the situation stood for two weeks.19
In Washington, Secretary Marcy and Polk had read copies of Scott’s and Trist’s earlier exchanges, and the Secretary of War scrambled to do damage control. He penned a thirteen-page letter to the general assuring him that Trist did not have the authority to supersede his direction of the military aspects of the war and that hostilities could only be ceased at Scott’s discretion. The “strange mistake into which . . . [Scott had] fallen,” Marcy wrote, resulted from poor sentence structure and word usage in the secretary’s April 14 letter. Regarding Scott’s complaint about being excluded from the contents of Buchanan’s secret communication with the Mexican government, Marcy explained that Trist had a copy of the document, which Scott could have read if he and Trist had met. It was all a misunderstanding, according to Marcy, and he thought that Scott would regret his harsh letter to Trist when he became better informed.20
Scott was unaware of Trist’s under-the-table machinations with the British, but for the present, it did not matter because the general was up to his neck in military matters and a variety of personality issues that created friction within the army. The first problem arose during Scott’s first few days in Puebla, and this one involved General Quitman, who had recently learned of his promotion to major general. Soon after Scott’s arrival, Quitman wrote him two letters in which he expressed his desire to command a full division of regulars rather than his current below-strength division of volunteers. He knew that commanding regulars carried more prestige, and he wanted the full allotment of regiments as stipulated by regulations, thereby solidifying his position in the army hierarchy as the second ranking general of the army. In a letter to his wife, Quitman even pondered his ascent to army commander if anything happened to Scott. This was just the kind of personal glory seeking that Scott did not have time to deal with. On May 31, the commanding general sent Quitman a mild rebuke, explaining that he was too busy with “the high duties of the campaign” for such issues. All of the army’s divisions had been depleted by leaving detachments in Veracruz, Jalapa, and Perote, Scott explained, and he could not justify breaking up another division just to bring Quitman’s to full strength. Then Scott made a suggestion calculated to derail his subordinate’s ambition. He offered to transfer Quitman to the Rio Grande, where there were an adequate number of regiments to give him command of a full division. Quitman was not likely to accept a transfer out of the theater of operations. Scott then concluded his letter by soothing Quitman’s ego. You are “a good soldier . . . & a good man” he wrote, and he asked him to “bend to circumstances.” “Your post is still one of honour, & you can fill it with distinction. Remain then & give me your cordial aid & support.” Quit-man ceased his remonstrations for the time being.21
Another personnel issue came in the form of a crack that developed in his relationship with Worth that, over the next four months, widened into an impassable chasm separating the two old friends. The problems originated from the lenient terms that Worth granted to local officials when he occupied Puebla. He agreed to allow Mexican citizens accused of crimes against Americans to be tried in Mexican courts. This contradicted the terms of Scott’s martial law order, which not only held American soldiers accountable for crimes against Mexicans, but also made Mexicans accountable in a military court for offenses against U.S. soldiers. And since the army’s arrival, a local court had acquitted a Pueblan who had been accused of murdering an American. A member of Scott’s staff, Lieutenant Colonel Ethan A. Hitchcock, thought Worth’s concession ridiculous, and Scott let his subordinate know of his anger. He wrote to Worth asking if it was true and if so, he demanded to know how Worth could make such an imprimatur. Scott wanted to see a copy of the terms. He even considered marching the army out of Puebla, then returning without granting any terms, but he knew such action would be a farce, so he bound himself to abide by the original agreement.22
Soon after this initial disagreement, Worth made another misstep. When he heard rumors of a plan to put poison in the Americans’ food supply, he wrote a warning and circulated it among his division. Scott learned about it and was furious on two counts. First, Worth had not bothered to inform the commanding general or to warn anyone other than his own troops. Second, in his circular, he used language calculated to insult the Mexican people when he referred to them as “cowards” who would “poison those from whom they habitually fly in battle.” Then he likened such a contemptible act as something “familiar in Spanish history.” Such an affront ran contrary to Scott’s pacification efforts, and he wrote Worth a stern rebuke, followed by an order that he withdraw the poison circular. Scott’s harsh criticism injured Worth’s pride, so the division commander requested a court of inquiry to determine if his actions had been appropriate and to consider whether he had been wronged by the commanding general. The court, made up of Generals Quitman, Twiggs, and Persifor Smith, met on June 25, and it ruled that Worth had acted inappropriately in both the occupation agreement and the poison circular and that he deserved the reprimand.23
This was but the beginning of the fissures in a fault line that would eventually erupt into an earthquake. Worth’s biographer, Edward S. Wallace, blamed Scott and “his porcupine act” for the break. Naval officer Raphael Semmes also thought that Scott was at fault because he failed to show Worth the respect he deserved. Scott’s aide, Colonel Hitchcock, placed significance in a minor episode that occurred just days before the poison food rumor surfaced. Worth had invited Scott and other officers to dine at his headquarters, a common practice among the army’s brass. During the meal, Scott
began to tell a story, which turned into a rather lengthy tale—also a common practice with the commanding general. All who knew Scott knew that he was usually the topic of his stories and that he expected the full attention of everyone present. During his monologue, Worth began to whisper with one of the other guests, thus displeasing the commanding general immensely. Scott stopped talking, and when encouraged to proceed, he snorted, “I’ll not say another word—my host is engaged in a private tete a tete & I’ll not interupt him.” Tension filled the air for the remainder of the evening. This may not have been the only time that Scott received such a snub from his subordinate. According to Hitchcock, Worth evidently had a habit of acting disinterested during Scott’s frequent dinner narratives.24
It was a trivial incident, but it underscores Scott’s legendary arrogance, his rigidity regarding military etiquette, and his constant effort to subordinate everyone around him to the role of disciple. He had indeed earned his nickname “Old Fuss and Feathers.” However, from Scott’s perspective, the break with Worth came after several instances of insubordination. Worth had opposed the slow siege craft that Scott used to reduce Veracruz; he had protested when Twiggs and his division got to lead the way inland in early April; he had described Scott’s report of the Battle of Cerro Gordo in the most insulting terms, calling it “a lie from beginning to end”; and most recently, he had revised Scott’s plan for the civil government of an occupied city. So, as Scott saw it, his friend of over thirty years, his former aid from the War of 1812, was actually the one who had habitually failed to show proper respect to his superior officer. According to Hitchcock, Scott had expressed the opinion that Worth was spoiled and jealous of power, and that even though Scott regretted the deterioration in their relationship, the commanding general had simply run out of patience. Hitchcock went even further, speculating that Worth fancied himself a presidential candidate in 1848. Evidently, Worth, who had been a Whig since that party’s inception in the mid-1830s, had been trying to put the word out that he was a Democrat because he knew how desperate that party was for a military hero to nominate for president. A week after Worth’s court adjourned, he sent Scott a “half apologetic” letter that seemingly helped the antagonists to put their differences behind them. However, their problems would resurface later.25
In addition to dealing with Worth in those early days in Puebla, Scott had to make the usual assessments required of a commanding general: learn the disposition of all of his troops, see to the army’s logistical needs, determine the most likely approaches by a hostile force, prepare for the defense of the city should an attack occur, conduct reconnaissance, and prepare for the army’s next move. The army, however, would stay put until its numbers were augmented by new volunteer units currently being raised in the States. The War Department continued to assure him that he would receive ample reinforcements before his final push to Mexico City. Indeed, on April 30 and May 20, Secretary of War Marcy wrote letters to Scott in which he reiterated his earlier commitment to increase the army to 20,000 by the end of June. Marcy also explained the diversion of the 3,000 new troops to Taylor’s army earlier in the year. It had resulted from rumors of a Mexican attack on Taylor’s forces at Saltillo and the fear in Washington that he might be forced to retreat to Monterey or, worse, be cut off from the Rio Grande. Of course, none of that came to pass, and the panic in Washington along with the resulting reassignment of troops came before the administration heard of Taylor’s victory at Buena Vista. Apparently, Scott had nervous and fidgety superiors in Washington as well as subordinates in his own army, and despite the administration’s assurances, he never had an army that came near to 20,000 men until the fighting was over. Out of frustration, Scott wrote to Marcy in early June regarding the “cruel disappointments and mortifications” that he had felt as a result of the “want of support and sympathy on the part of the War Department.”26
Among the more significant aspects of army business in which Scott involved himself was the employment of Manuel Dominguez and a group of Mexican bandits. Supposedly Dominguez, an honest businessman, took up a life of crime after he was “robbed and ruined” by an officer in the Mexican army, and he subsequently went on to become the well-known leader of a band of highwaymen. When some Pueblans identified Dominguez as a common criminal, U.S. officials arrested him, then recruited him to go on the American payroll. He became the leader of a group of outlaws, twelve of whom he got released from jail in order to join him. At first Dominguez had a few dozen men, but eventually his numbers grew to over a hundred, and by one account, his band ultimately reached about two hundred. Many of them were simply bandits who had worked the roads between Mexico City and Veracruz for years. One of the group was a native Virginian named Spooner who reportedly had been a highwayman in Mexico before the war started. Dominguez’s group, which was most commonly referred to as the Mexican spy company, worked with the American army as scouts, couriers, spies, and guides. They also conducted a security function by keeping an eye on the towns surrounding Puebla in search of suspicious activity and enemy troop movements. In addition to conducting routine checks on the roads running west toward Mexico City, they also made sweeps to the east to keep the roads clear of guerrillas. Dominguez and his cohorts provided valuable intelligence during the remainder of the campaign, and they ensured that Scott’s dispatches arrived at their destinations. According to Lieutenant Henry Moses Judah of the Fourth Infantry, Dominguez could control 10,000 bandits between Mexico City and the coast. They looked rough, like the robbers and thieves that they were, but they wore green coatees with red collars and cuffs, and red bands around their wide-brimmed black felt hats to identify them as friendly. Whenever they needed something—a horse or piece of equipment—they simply went to the nearest Mexican resident and politely took what they wanted “apologizing in a regular robber style.” Some Americans thought they were an untrustworthy set of rogues. Ralph Kirkham referred to them as “Mexican Rascals” and D. H. Hill described them as “a wild, savage looking set of fellows,” but Edmund Bradford believed that they were “perfectly faithful” to the Americans. At $20 a month, they made almost three times the pay of an American private.27
The army remained in Puebla for about ten weeks while they awaited reinforcements, and the men found many ways to occupy their time. An American acting troupe performed nightly at a theater, gambling establishments featuring a variety of games flourished, and restaurants and bars, many of them run by Americans, sprang up around the soldiers’ quarters. Many of the men saw their first bullfight while in Puebla. Ralph Kirkham described the 5,000-seat arena he visited and the way the crowd’s excitement fluctuated depending on the pain inflicted on the bull and the level of danger for the bullfighter. He concluded that a bullfight “is certainly the most cruel amusement that I ever witnessed.” Other soldiers visited the nearby ruins of Cholula, the ancient Aztec city with its huge temple mound.28
Of course, liquor was abundant and easy to find, and the most common drink that many of the Americans commented on in letters and journals was pulque. It was the drink of choice for lower-class Mexicans because it was cheap and readily available. Pulque, made from the maguey plant, which grows all over Mexico, was especially abundant around Puebla. The plant is a stout evergreen that reaches a height of about six feet, and its center stem is large and funnel shaped. Its long leaves drape over on all sides, and their ends have a sharp point that can penetrate flesh. By one soldier’s description, it resembled the “head of a Pine Apple,” only much larger. Many of the residents used the plant as a fence row. When a maguey plant is about seven or eight years old, the stem is tapped to draw off the juice for fermentation, and one plant can produce several gallons a week. Once tapped, the plant will live several more years yielding its liquid, but if left untapped, the century plant, as some called it, will live up to a hundred years. The finished product of the fermentation process is the bitter drink pulque, which has an unpleasant smell, a “fiery, smoky taste,” and a flavor, as some re
marked at the time, “more like green tobacco than anything else.” It is a white color and “about the strength of New England cider.” The Mexicans drank it in large quantities. They sold it on the streets from hogskin containers, and a quart was sufficient to “intoxicate twenty men,” according to George Furber, a Tennessee volunteer.29
The extended leisure in Puebla was punctuated by regular drill, but over the weeks, the men had ample time to send letters and receive information about loved ones. Joseph Smith worried about his brother Henry, who had become sick with yellow fever while the army was still in Veracruz. Henry was a member of Scott’s staff, but his illness caused him to be left behind when the army marched inland. While at Puebla, Joseph received the depressing news that his brother had died, causing him to write a prayer in his diary asking God for “support and comfort.” At the opposite emotional extreme, William Walker wrote his wife a love letter from Puebla. “Molly,” he wrote, “I love you more (if possible) this moment than I did when at the alter in the sight of God and man.” Later he mentioned his throbbing heart and referred to Molly as the “gentlest, kindest of her sex.” Then he speculated on the chances of his letter falling into the hands of bandits who roamed the roads from Puebla to Veracruz. What if this letter ends up in Mexico City and is published in the papers? If that were to happen, he assured Molly, “I will pin the Editor of the paper by the ears to his front door.” Then he drifted away from his wife and began to write directly to his imagined bandits. “Highwayman I give you notice that if you do get this letter and make it public that the day of retribution will come.” Next he issued a warning to an editor who might consider publishing the letter: “look out . . . for I shall be in the city of Mexico soon.”30
A Gallant Little Army Page 19
