Gone for Soldiers
“Well, Captain, you come to your senses? Look here.”
Thorsby pointed out toward the village, and Lee was surprised how close the huts were. He felt a stab of anxiety, but the village was quiet, seemed deserted.
Thorsby said, “Looks like we were expected. Don’t appear to be anyone home, Captain. Let’s walk up here on dry ground, if you don’t mind.”
The rest of the men had climbed up to the road, and Thorsby spread them out in formation, a small column in the shape of an H. He pointed to the village, said, “It’s all yours, Captain.”
The men began to move beside him, and Lee felt the water in his boots, the wetness in his socks, thought, It was the right way. He doesn’t think so, but there could have been soldiers here. We could have walked right into a problem.
The lead troops reached the first huts, and the men pushed open the crude wood doors, slipped inside, then quickly came back out, moving to the next hut. Lee glanced to both sides of the road, saw motion, a window, a flap of cloth moving in the breeze. He moved up behind one soldier, followed the man to the low doorway of a tiny home, looked inside, curious. Dishes and pans hung on a dark wall; beneath them stood a small wood table, three small chairs. The soldier looked at him, shrugged, said, “No one home, Captain.”
Lee nodded, backed out into the light, and suddenly Thorsby said aloud, “Halt!”
The men all froze, and Thorsby lifted his field glasses. “There you go, Captain. That what you came to see?”
Lee moved out into the road, could see how it stretched beyond the village, leading straight toward a wide, flat hill. He detected some motion, a flag, then something else, and raised his glasses.
Thorsby said, “I reckon we’ll not want to get too much closer to that.”
The man’s voice was different, serious now, and Lee scanned the hill, saw a row of uneven shapes, man-made, some logs, piles of rock. He stared hard, could see the glint of gold, the sun reflecting on the polished brass cannon.
He said quietly, “Yes, Major, that’s what I came to see. I need to make a count … how many guns …”
Thorsby laughed. “More than I want to walk into, Captain. If you intend us to get any closer, I’m for slipping back down into that damned mud. Up on this road, we’re an easy target.”
Lee tried to count the guns, gazed slowly along the ridge of the hill, thought, We’re an easy target right now. But they don’t seem to care.
Thorsby said, “Looks like a couple dozen pieces at least, Captain.”
Lee moved the glasses down to the left, where he saw another built-up road rising above the swampy ground, a cluster of fortifications lining both sides. He saw more movement, flashes of color, thought, Troops … a lot of troops. There were more guns as well, positioned along the road curving away in a perfect arc of defense, the guns all pointing out toward the east, where Santa Anna expected Scott’s army to advance.
He lowered the glasses. “Major, you may order your men to withdraw. Our job here is done.”
The men filed into line, and Thorsby moved them back the way they came. Lee glanced inside another of the huts, caught a glimpse of motion. His heart leaping in his throat, he backed away and felt for the pistol in his belt. He stared at something moving slowly in the shadows. It was small, and as it emerged into the light, he could see that it was a rooster. He glanced back at the soldiers, saw no one watching him, and allowed himself a small laugh. Looking inside another hut, he saw a chicken and another rooster, thought, This is, after all, a place where people live. These people are waiting somewhere, maybe behind the walls of the city, and they expect to return here.
Lee looked at the wide hill again, thought of Scott’s prediction; we might just walk in and take the city. This time, these people did not welcome us, they’ve offered no gifts, no smiling women are here to greet us. That’s an army over there, and they have guns and fortifications, and they are ready for whatever we are prepared to do. He thought of Santa Anna, the snide remarks, the jokes the American officers made, even Scott himself: He is through, he is disgraced. No, Lee thought, no matter what has happened so far, this time he is defending their capital, the soul of their nation. No matter what we have done to him in battle, no matter how superior we think we are, these people have pride and a sense of honor, and a man who knows how to lead them. And we have our hands full of a fight.
16. SCOTT
AUGUST THIRTEENTH
HE STUDIED LEE’S MAP, FOCUSED ON THE WIDE HILL, NOTED Lee’s label, El Piñón. “How many guns?”
Lee stood in front of the wide desk, leaned forward before replying, “At least thirty on the hill. More spread along the causeway. A full division of troops, perhaps more.”
Scott glanced up at the others, looked briefly at each one, Pillow and Worth, then the old face of Quitman. He stopped at Twiggs, saw him leaning over, trying to see the details of Lee’s map. “A formidable position, even for you, General Twiggs. The enemy appears to be waiting for us.”
He looked at Lee again, said, “That about your take on it, Captain? We’d be walking into a trap?”
Lee stood straight. “Not exactly, sir. There is no deception here. They fully expect us to march right at them. It has been their way from the beginning, just as it was at Cerro Gordo. It is possible, sir, that a frontal assault could succeed. But it would be … costly.”
“That is your opinion, Captain.”
Lee stiffened, nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Forgive me. My opinion.”
“Mine too.”
Scott pointed to a chair behind Lee, said, “Be seated, Captain. I believe what we have here is an opportunity. The enemy has committed a sizable force of his defense to this one approach to the city. He expects us to oblige him by assaulting him where he hopes we will assault him. I have no intention of doing so. General Worth, have your people given us a report on the southern road?”
Worth seemed to jump to his feet, said, “Yes, sir. My scouts report the road that runs below Lake Chalco is suitable, and would carry us easily to a major roadway south of the city. From there we could strike due north and catch Santa Anna napping. We could very well push right over those walls before he knew we were there.”
Scott stared at Worth, thought, What is wrong with this man? He sees the ghosts of an army where none exists, and now he sees no army at all, when the enemy sits behind fat walls in great strength.
“General Worth, your enthusiasm is noted. However, I would ask you to consider the scouting reports we already have. The enemy may have as many as thirty thousand troops between us and the center of the capital. My mathematics skills are somewhat rusty but I believe that is about three times what we have. I do not expect we will be allowed the luxury of simply marching straight into anyplace around here without some serious opposition. We must even the odds. Surprise is our ally. We must move quickly to the places he does not expect us to move. General Twiggs, your division is already in place on the road to El Piñon.”
Twiggs grunted softly, said, “We’re ready to proceed.”
“Yes, I’m sure. However, you will proceed only to make a demonstration, make a big show for the troops Captain Lee has observed. Hold them in place, while the rest of the army moves around below that big lake … Chalco. Once the bulk of the army has reached the north-south roads, only then will you withdraw, and follow.” He looked at Lee’s map again, set it aside, slid another paper across his desk, another map, scanned it slowly, said, “I never saw a city that could be defended as easily as this one. Swamps, lakes, marsh, God knows what else. The only approaches are on these built-up roads, these, uh … well, not bridges exactly …”
He glanced at Lee, who said, “Causeways, sir.”
“Causeways. Right. You probably needed a straight-edge to draw them, Mr. Lee. Every one of them a nice straight line running right into some fortification.” He glanced at Worth. “Once we fight our way through the fortifications, then we still have the city gates and that big damned wall to deal with. I don’t exp
ect there to be a welcoming committee.”
Scott picked up another map, studied it a moment, then asked, “What’s this? Another lake?”
Lee stood, moved to the desk, said, “I don’t know, sir. That one’s not mine.”
Worth approached and nodded. “Yes, that’s from my end, sir. There appears to be a large lava bed spread out to the southwest of the city. It’s impassable. It’s as far as the scouts could go. We focused our attention north from that point. Not much to be gained trying to go around it, sir.”
Scott looked at Worth for a long moment, said, “What’s on the other side?”
Worth moved back to his chair, said, “I … don’t know, sir. It’s impassable.”
Scott looked at the map again, thought, What are scouts for? He handed the map to Lee, said, “You agree, Captain?”
Lee glanced at Worth, said, “I can’t say, sir. I haven’t seen it.”
“Go see it, Captain. Find out what’s on the other side. General Worth, with all respect to your scouts, nothing is impassable. It is likely that once we move the army into position south of the city, Santa Anna will have moved as well. There is little chance of complete secrecy, even if we move after dark. He has cavalry just like we do, a great deal more than we do. Before we simply charge like hell into his guns, we should explore other possibilities. Captain Lee, you will report to General Worth and proceed to that damned lava field. You will then tell me something I don’t already know. You are dismissed, Captain.”
Lee saluted, moved out of the office. Scott saw his son-in-law holding the door open, and the young man seemed to hesitate, then moved into the office, circling around behind his desk. Scott waited, said, “What?”
The young man leaned close, said quietly, “Excuse me, sir. Mr. Trist is here. I told him he would have to wait.”
Scott glanced up at the young man. “No, Major, send him in. Let everyone hear what he has to say.”
The young man moved away quickly, and Scott saw curiosity in the faces of the others.
“This could be interesting.” He looked at Pillow and smiled, but said nothing. Pillow seemed to twist slightly in the chair. Yes, he thought, squirm a bit. Nothing seems to concern you unless it’s political. Bet you wonder what I’m up to.
Trist stood in the doorway and looked quickly at the commanders, then at Scott. Scott saw Trist’s expression and thought, Oh, God, he looks like he’s going to cry again.
“Come in, Mr. Trist. Don’t be alarmed. They bite even less than I do. I thought we should all hear your report. So, the war over?”
Pillow suddenly stood, said to Trist, “My word! Please, sir, tell us! Have you been successful?” Pillow looked at Scott then, and Scott raised a finger, pointed slowly to the chair in silent command.
Pillow sat down, his eyes fixed on Trist, who said, “Forgive me for interrupting. I must report, sir, uh, no, actually it seems the war is not over. Not on my account, anyway.”
Trist still seemed uneasy as he moved slowly up to the desk. He said quietly, “Sir, is this appropriate?”
Scott pointed to Lee’s empty chair, said, “Entirely appropriate, Mr. Trist. Have a seat. I certainly want my commanders to know what is going on. These gentlemen have all been informed of your mission. No intrigue here.” He glanced at Pillow again. “No intrigue at all. So, may I assume you have heard from our friends the British?”
Trist glanced again at the faces watching him, looked at Scott with a confident nod. “I have had a continuing dialogue with the British representatives, yes, sir. They are still expressing optimism that the Mexican Congress will be persuaded to accept our peaceful solution.” He paused, and Scott saw Trist’s confidence fade. The clerk glanced self-consciously toward the others, his cheeks flushing.
“Uh, sir, the first payment was made without incident.”
Twiggs now sat up straight, said, “First payment of what?”
Trist looked at Scott, and Scott nodded. “Proceed, Mr. Trist.”
“We, um, made a transfer of funds totaling ten thousand dollars.”
Twiggs looked at Scott now, said, “You know my feelings about this, sir. I have no taste for politics, and I did not agree with this policy of bribery. If we are making payments, may I know what it is we are paying for?”
Scott nodded, said, “Mr. Trist?”
“Yes, um, General Twiggs, we made the payment at the request of the Mexican authorities. It was considered a deposit of … good faith, sir.”
Pillow stood and addressed Twiggs. “My dear general, these negotiations are delicate. We must give when they take, and take when they give. It is quite proper.”
Scott pointed again at Pillow’s chair, and Pillow sat down, nodded to Scott with a satisfied smile.
Twiggs ignored Pillow, said to Scott, “Good faith? We have ten thousand muskets and a hundred cannon pointed at their capital. What other kind of faith do they need?”
Scott held up his hands. “All right. Let Mr. Trist complete his report. I authorized the payment, and it was no great secret. Obviously, General Pillow was aware of it. But you raise a good question, General Twiggs. Well, Mr. Trist? What did ten thousand dollars buy us?”
Trist’s eyes rapidly scanned the room. He looked down at his lap and tugged at his shirt cuffs, then said quietly, “As of yet … nothing, sir.”
Twiggs spat out a loud grunt, and Pillow said, “Well, not yet. But surely, results are—will be forthcoming, yes?”
Trist looked at Scott, the younger man’s confidence gone now, and Scott saw Trist’s hand quivering. The general thought, Maybe this was a bad idea. Should have had him here alone.
Trist cleared his throat before speaking. “Sir, the British believe the funds were in fact given to General Santa Anna personally. That is the last information we have.”
Surprised, Scott said, “Excuse me, Mr. Trist? We have given payment directly to Santa Anna? I was not aware you were going that far.” His voice began to rise. “Were there conditions attached to the funds? Didn’t we expect some document, some show of their good faith that a truce might be forthcoming? That was the idea, was it not?”
“The Mexican representatives did not offer anything in return. We were told there was still disagreement whether they should accept our proposal—whether the three million dollars would be enough to convince them to bring the matter before their general meeting. However, it is my feeling, sir, that if General Santa Anna is the final authority … it could be a mistake making payments without hearing directly from him. We were assured that if this first payment was made, the avenues of communication might open up. It doesn’t seem to have worked.”
Scott felt his face redden, his fists tightening on the desk. He saw Twiggs was looking at him now, his mouth open, his face a grim black mask of outrage. Finally Twiggs shook his head and said quietly, his voice thick with disgust, “Three million …”
Scott said quietly, “Yes, General Twiggs, I agree with you.”
He looked at Pillow now, the man’s glib confidence replaced by a small frown.
Scott said, “Mr. Trist, you are to be commended at least for performing the job you were sent here to perform. The only direct avenues we have open to Santa Anna are those damned causeways. The President may still believe we should purchase our way into Mexico City, but it is apparent that we will not conclude this affair with currency. So, we will conclude it with the gun. This is still a war.” He paused, looked at Pillow. “The President certainly should be notified that his plan was a failure, however, our avenues of communication are a long way behind us. Some of you may still believe bribery is a productive policy. Certainly the Mexicans appreciate it. But I will not be played for a fool. The only gift Santa Anna will receive from us now will come at the point of a bayonet.”
17. LEE
AUGUST SIXTEENTH
THE GUNFIRE HAD BEEN BRIEF, A QUICK RAID BY MEXICAN CAVALRY, a harassment of Twiggs’s flank. Lee could hear it from a distance. Having climbed one of the great pointed rocks,
he stared out to the east, but by now there was nothing to see. The Mexicans had ridden away as quickly as the raid had begun, and now there was the quiet again, the only sound a faint calling from the big black birds that seemed to own the landscape.
He had seen signs of cavalry himself, had thought, Of course they will watch us, might even try to slow us down. But the army had made the march around the big lake, Chalco, and now was firmly in place south of the city. And Scott had been right; it was no surprise after all. Even if Twiggs’s demonstration had held the El Piñon forces in place, Santa Anna still had a great deal of strength around the city. By now most of it was facing south, a vast show of force blocking the roadways that would lead Scott into the city.
By late morning the sun was already reflecting sharply off the edge of the lava field—the gray rocks a jumble of shapes and sizes, tapering off toward the road where the troops waited for Lee to give the first command.
Worth had given Lee a squad of infantry, commanded by a huge sergeant, a gruff dark man named Calhoun. Lee watched Calhoun spread his men to the front, fanning them out in a protective arc in the ragged rocks. Calhoun pointed and barked his orders in a harsh whisper, pushed his men into position. He looked at Lee with grim black eyes, and Lee nodded in return. Lee had insisted on absolute quiet.
Lee moved carefully off the big rock, jumped down onto soft gray sand, was completely hidden from the others. He climbed again to a flat space between more of the strange formations. He nodded to Calhoun, and the soldiers began to move away in front. There was a muffled sound behind him, a low voice, and Lee turned, saw Beauregard scrambling over the rocks, waving, and now Beauregard shouted out, “Ho, there, Captain!”
The sound punched through the quiet, and Lee winced, closed his eyes, thought, He should know the value of quiet. He held up his hands, saw Beauregard’s face flushed red, the young man puffing hard, and Lee said quietly, “Lieutenant, I should have informed you. We must maintain silence. As you know, sound will carry over these rocks. As the locals have told us, it’s nearly three miles across, maybe more. We don’t know what we might encounter.”