Notes of the Mexican war 1846-47-48/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
Monday, June 21, 1847.—This morning we did not rise as early as usual on a march, on account of being tired out, besides wet and stiff with rheumatism and cold. Some of our men could hardly get up; in fact, we had to help one another up.
After breakfast we left camp, and after a short march we arrived at the Castle of Perote about 10 o'clock, a.m. Gen. Cadwalader's division encamped on the right and left of the Castle, while the train and artillery camped in the front, which made everything look lively.
I learned to-day by one of the Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers that Mr. Robert Brown, of our company, died in the Jalapa hospital, on June 12, of diarrhœa.
In the evening several soldiers who had died during the day were buried.
Tuesday, June 22, 1847.—This morning we were removed from our quarters in the Castle to the town of Perote, the same quarters we formerly occupied.
At noon we received orders from Gen. Cadwalader to hold ourselves in readiness to march to-morrow.
This afternoon is very pleasant, which had the effect of bringing out some of the prettiest senor dames and senoritas in the country, some riding out on stylish horses, richly mounted. The ladies are splendid riders.In the evening we buried five men from the hospital. It seems to be our mournful pleasure to witness such scenes, and listen to the requiem which is breathed by the pieces of the comrades of the departed soldiers every day.
Wednesday, June 23, 1847.—This morning an express left this place for Puebla to ascertain from Gen. Scott whether the train which is now encamped here should proceed on, or wait until the next train coming from Vera Cruz, and then both move together on to Puebla. So, of course, the order for marching to-day was countermanded until the express returns from Puebla.
At noon we had a long drill, drilling in the manual of fire arms and field movements; so, in case we should be so fortunate at meeting the enemy on our way up that we will be prepared for them.
In the evening we again buried eight soldiers; one of them, I think, was Lloyd Coldier, son of John Coldier, of Lewistown, Pa. He belonged to the Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers; he was a man well liked in his company. All his company, besides many others, followed him to his final resting-place. If they keep dropping off this way (twenty in three days) there will not be many left to get back to see their wives, friends and sweethearts. They all die of that much feared disease, diarrhœa. There are no less than five hundred now in the hospital down with the same complaint, all belonging to the different regiments in our army. Oh! How solemn and imposing is a military funeral; many a poor soldier dies and is put under sod without anyone knowing anything about him, or even what regiment he belonged to. He is thrown into his shallow grave, with his blankets wrapped around him, without any coffin.
Thursday June 24, 1847.—This morning Col. Wynkoop received information through some of our spies where there was a large quantity of corn, barley, etc., stored away several miles from here, belonging to the Mexican Government. So, at noon, Col. Wynkoop, accompanied by Capt. Walker's mounted riflemen, started for the place and took possession of it without any opposition, loaded it up into our wagons and returned with the spoils.
This evening there were seven men buried.
Friday, June 25, 1847.—This morning our company was detailed to go on guard. So at 10 o'clock, a.m., we formed guard and went on duty.
At noon our Orderly Sergeant detailed two men (Alburtus Welsh and Henry Rosco) to dig a grave for one of our men named Thomas Williams who died last night, after which the funeral took place, and was followed to his grave by our company and Capt. Scott's company (H). Mr. Williams was one of the tallest and healthiest looking men in our company, but the exposure and laying out in "Camp Misery" fetched him.
This evening five more died in the hospital and were buried.
Saturday, June 26, 1847.—This morning it is rumored that our old friend, Gen. Gideon J. Pillow, had a fight with the citizens of Jalapa, and that Gen. Pillow was mortally wounded. I doubt it, and it is not believed by any of our officers or men, for this reason, the citizens of Jalapa are considered the friendliest people that we have met with in this country.
There is now no garrison at Jalapa or any guarded post between Perote Castle and the city of Vera Cruz. Gen. George Cadwalader brought all with him, both sick and wounded.
In the afternoon it was reported that the train was coming, so a party of our officers on horseback rode out to meet it, but found no train coming, and returned without seeing it.
Five soldiers, one belonging to Co. G, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, were buried this evening. Our company attended the funeral of Co. G man. Our men are beginning to get impatient, on account of getting no news from Gen. Scott when we should move on to Puebla. We are all anxiously waiting for the express or messenger to arrive from Puebla. Sunday, June 27, 1847.—This morning news is afloat that the train is now coming for sure. No doubt of it, but it may be a good ways off; although it is hourly looked for, it being now overdue,
At noon a foraging party, accompanied by Capt. Samuel Walker and his company, started out to a small town, about ten miles from here, where it is reported that there is some corn and barley stored.
In the evening they returned, bringing with them flour, corn, barley and some poultry. They report that there is plenty of provisions in the country.
In the evening there were several more buried from the hospital. They are getting so numerous that I begin to get tired of talley. No train or sign of any train coming. Where is it?
Monday, June 28, 1847.—This morning Col. Thomas Childs, of the United States Artillery, with a small division left their camp for Puebla. The Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers goes with them, they also took ammunition and specie along. We were all wishing the Paymaster had paid us poor soldiers off before we left.
The train consists of about two hundred and fifty wagons, all loaded with ordnance stores. It is now supposed by our officers that the express rider was captured by the guerillas between this place and Puebla. We have a report that there is a large force of guerillas and lancers between Tepegahualco and Amozoquco. These guerillas have no doubt heard of our specie going up to Puebla, and will without a doubt make a desperate effort to capture the train, but Col. Childs left here well prepared to meet any emergency of an attack. Two batteries of Capt. Steptoes accompanies the train with plenty of grape and canister; a kind of pills the Mexicans don't like. We were all wishing that we could have went along and be in the fight.
In the evening five soldiers were buried from the hospital. Like the rest, they sleep the sleep that knows no waking. Tuesday, June 29, 1847.—This morning Capt. Walker, with two hundred and fifty mounted men, left Perote to meet the train, which is already several days behind time. Should Capt. Walker come across the guerillas God help them, for he seldom brings in prisoners. The Captain and most all of his men are very prejudiced and embittered against every guerilla in the country. We hope that he will meet the train and bring it in speedily, for we are all anxious to march on, and also anxiously waiting for letters from home.
This evening, as usual, several soldiers were buried from the hospital.
Wednesday, June 30, 1847.—This morning Capt. Whipple, of the United States army, who died last evening, was buried. He was buried with all the honors of war. Our whole regiment, besides nearly all the officers, now remaining here, followed his remains. The flag of our country served for the pall, and the brass band that came up with the last train played on this solemn occasion. At the grave one of his fellow-officers read a few lines out of the New Testament, after which he spoke very highly of the deceased as a brave and gallant officer. He was attached to Gen. Worth's division, was at the capturing of Vera Cruz and at the battle of Cerro Gordo, and the capturing of Castle of Perote. He took sick when Gen. Worth marched on to Puebla, and he was too unwell to go along, and died in the hospital. It was the largest military funeral that has yet taken place since we are in Mexico. The Mexicans themselves took a deep interest in viewing the procession. Saying fino bello funeral (fine, beautiful funeral). It was largely attended.
In the afternoon Gen. Cadwalader, with a party of mounted soldiers and officers, left Perote to meet the train, but they soon returned with Capt. Walker and his men, whom they met on the way. Capt. Walker reports that the long-looked-for train is encamped to-night at Res Frio, and that it will be here in the morning. The reason of its long coming was owing to the (bad) malo weather and wagons breaking down on the rough roads, and the mules and horses giving out. The news of the arrival of this train has put a cheerful look in every soldier's eye, and they are much rejoiced at the prospect of an early march.
In the evening three soldiers from the hospital were buried. They are dropping off faster than they come.
Thursday, July 1, 1847.—This morning about 10 o'clock the train arrived at Perote. In fact the men were so glad that they went several miles to meet it and escort it into town. They bring a large amount of ammunition and other ordnance stores, and some two hundred and fifty wagons and about two thousand infantry. They report having been fired upon several times by the guerillas from behind the chaparral on the way, and on June 6th the enemy made a bold stand at Paso de Las Obejos, near El Encero, attacking the specie train, and the guards pouring volley after volley into their ranks, killing one man and wounding several others. This caused a panic among the new troops, who were about to run when Lieut. Henry Prince, of the Fourth United States Infantry, who had command of the guard, sprang to the front with his drawn sword, and appealed to his men to rally around him, and charged upon the enemy with a yell, driving the guerillas in all directions. The whole train was under the command of Col. McIntosh, and the division under the command of Gen. Pillow, of Cerro Gordo fame.
In the afternoon, on dress-parade, orders were read to us to keep ourselves in readiness to march to-morrow morning for Puebla,
In the evening the orders to march were countermanded by Gen. Pillow, until further orders. So the men are again a little discouraged, and are wondering when we will march. Three soldiers from the hospital were buried.
Friday, July 2, 1847.—This morning there is not much doing, except the soldiers are growling about our long delay at these quarters. At noon the drum beat for dress-parade, which caused great rejoicing among the men; expecting that we were to get orders to march. Sure enough orders to march to-morrow morning were read to us. This is the fourth time we have received orders to this effect, and I should not be surprised to hear it countermanded before morning.
In the evening several of our men called upon their senoritas, bidding them farewell, and telling them that we are going to marcha manana. There were several buried from the hospital this evening.
To-night the boys are all in high glee, singing "Santa Anna's leg he left behind him" at the battle of Cerro Gordo.
Saturday, July 3, 1847.—This morning after breakfast we were formed into line, and then marched to the plaza. At 8 o'clock, a.m., we left the town of Perote and marched about twenty miles, passing several beautiful haciendas. We passed around a rough looking mountain called Mt. Pizzarios, and went into camp at a small town named Tepegahualco (or Zempollan), which was, before Conqueror Cortez's time, a large and flourishing Indian city. It was the capital of an Indian tribe called Tepejacano (or Totonacs). They were the offspring of the Aztec (or Mexican). They were part of the tribe that became dissatisfied with the rules and government at the city of Mexico; they left the city and mostly all settled around Orazaba, Jalapa, Perote and other small towns.
Cortez, on his march toward the city of Mexico, conquered the Tepejacanos and afterward killed nearly all its people, simply because they would not submit to his rules.
Nothing is now left of the Tepejacano Indian capital, except a small village consisting mostly of mud-plastered shanties.
It is also noted as the place where the revolutionist, Gen. Jose Maria Morelos was betrayed by one of his own men, Gen. Bustamante, on November 5, 18 15. From here he was taken, heavily chained, to the city of Mexico, and there shot in the back as a traitor, December 22, 1815. On our march to-day we passed over a beautiful level piece of land, known as the Table Land of Mexico. It is nearly all highly cultivated in grain, corn, etc. Nothing of any importance occurred along the National Road.
To-night it commenced to rain very hard, and having no tents or shelter, makes it so much the worse for the soldiers to sleep or rest.
I made up my mind to hunt other quarters and took my knapsack and wet blanket and made a rush to get under a wagon, but the infernal mules kept kicking and squealing so that it was impossible for me to go to sleep. So, I used a flash word, vamose de rechocer (left for the ranche), but to my surprise I found them all occupied and full of our soldiers, and I was obliged to take up my bed again and walk to a little hilly place, so that the water may run off me. Here I took my blanket for a cover and the rainy sky for my shelter and this was my sleeping and resting apartment for the night.
At 12 o'clock to-night we heard an alarm fired, but it proved to be a false one—John G. Craig, of Co. C, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, while on sentry at the sand hills back of Vera Cruz, shot a jack-ass, thinking that it was an enemy approaching toward him. So, it may be with the sentry to-night, who heard a wolf coming through the chaparral, and no doubt thought that it was a Mexican coming and fired.
Sunday, July 4, 1847.—This morning at 4 o'clock, we were aroused by the sound of drums; we got up, and it being the Fourth of July we thought that we ought to have a little spree. The Mexican women came to our quarters directly after the blowing of the bugle, with their tortos, fritillos, fritura, pan and polque (cakes, fritters, fried meat, bread, etc.). Polque I am told, is a very good and healthy drink, you can get a mug or bowlful for dos clacos (three cents,); I drank an earthen jug full, and I thought it made me feel a little tipsy. Those who have the cash can indulge in these extras.
After the line was formed, we started on our march. The sun arose beautifully over the hills on this Sabbath morning; in fact, I thought sometimes that I was again among the hills along the Juniata. We passed around the mountain Pizzarios, at the top of which we saw a large cross on the top of a high rock; and about half way up the mountain stood a church with a big cross on top, surrounded with a fancy fence made or planted of maguey plants. The question was asked, how do the people get up there to worship? Seeing no road leading to it, some remarked "that possibly they might go up in a balloon."
To-day on our march, we passed several crosses planted in the ground on the side of the National road; in fact, we have noticed these crosses ever since we left Vera Cruz, planted along the road, and all wondered what they meant. I noticed that the Mexican men, but more particularly the women and the poor class in general, when they pass by these crosses, or in fact, some before they come to it, make some kind of Catholic signs, and the women mostly kneel before the cross and say a prayer, and some put flowers and wreaths on the cross.
We were told that these crosses are to indicate that some passenger or traveler had been murdered in cold blood, and that they had been placed there in memory of the bloody deeds of the past.
Our march to-day was a good deal like yesterday, over level plains and table lands which were mostly uncultivated, except now and then we saw a field of barleycorn. The road was very dusty; but within a few miles of our encampment it commenced to rain. We marched along rapidly in the pelting rain until we came to a small town and a stream of water called Ojo de Aqua (the eye of water).
In the evening the rain increased and continued so all night; and having no tents or shelter but the stormy and clouded heavens, I made a rush to get under some wagons, which kept a little rain off me, and the mules did not annoy me very much, as they were no doubt a little like myself, tired, and mighty glad to get a chance to rest. Oh, how many of us have thought of some of the Fourths of July we have spent at home, and how we are spending it now.
To-night everything is quiet, don't even hear the mules squeal.
Monday, July 5, 1847.—This morning about 4 o'clock we took up our line of march. This early movement was on account of us going into camp so early yesterday afternoon. Our men who had to lay out in the rain last night were, of course, wet, but the sun rose clear and warm, which soon dried their clothes and blankets.
The road for the first hour's march was wet and muddy. We marched on until we arrived at a lively town called Napaluco, here we halted for over half an hour, and filled our canteens with elegant aqua, our haversack with fresh pan, and any quantity of fruit, such as bananas, which grow very abundant in this section of tierres calientes. After having secured all our necessary wants we left, and continued in passing over the table-lands, and if only some of our Lancaster County, Pa., farmers could see those large fields of corn, wheat, beans, barley, &c., all without any fences around them, it would astonish them. The fields are from four to eight miles long and from ten to twenty miles wide. Nothing to guard those large fields except a shepherd and his faithful dogs. In fact I saw no fences around any of the farms on our whole march. All watched and guarded by the shepherds and their dogs. We went into camp about 1 o'clock, p.m., at a small village or hacienda, and quartered under a large shed.
Tuesday, July 6, 1847.—This morning we were aroused from our good night's sleep by the sound of Mr. William Byrely's bugle.
After breakfast we left camp, and had not gone far before we met a lepero, who said that Col. Childs, with his brigade, was just a little ahead of us, and that he expects to be attacked at the El Pinal Pass. We are now ordered to march a little faster, so as to catch-up to them before they arrive at the pass. We soon overtook them, and encamped at hacienda, San Bartols, near a small lake at the edge of Pinal Pass. In the evening I was put on picket-guard away up on the mountains, stationed at two cross-roads or Indian passways, here I was told to remain until morning, unless driven in by the enemy or something else.
About 11 o'clock it commenced to rain, and darkened so that I could not see my hand before me, much more than see an enemy, which I was told were coming up all around me.
At 12 o'clock the picket on my right sang out for the Sergeant of the guard, the Sergeant hurried to answer the call. He first came to me, and wanted to know what was the matter. I told him I was not the sentinel that called him, but the one on my right was. He started for him, and the sentinel told the Sergeant that he was twice attacked by the wolves, and was afraid to fire, for fear of rousing up the camp. The Sergeant then told him not to fire, unless his life was in danger. The wolves passed me several times.
Wednesday, July 7, 1847.—This morning early I was released from guard duty, wet and tieso (stiff) as a poker. After breakfast we left camp, and had not marched far, when a rumor went through our ranks that the prospect is that we will have a little fight. Sure enough, we heard the report of a musket, sounding as if it was in our advance. Our regiment was now ordered in the advance of the whole division. The riflemen were thrown out as skirmishers, and to explore the woods and hills. Three men from our regiment were detailed to climb up the hills and cliffs. I was one of the details appointed, but our Captain said that I should be excused on account of having been on guard all last night.
Off they started, climbed the hills until they came to a place where the Mexicans had large stones set on crow-bars ready to tilt when the train entered the pass, but, strange to say, no Mexican could be seen. Gen. Pillow, who had command of the division, thought that the enemy might be hiding behind the cliffs and chaparrals, and sent word to the skirmishers to stand by these massive pieces of rocks, and keep a sharp lookout down the ravine. However, the whole train passed on through the pass without the firing of a single gun; but further ahead we did see some three hundred lancers and infantry crossing a plain on our right, going toward a small town far off the National Road.
Gen. Pillow ordered the Third Dragoons to follow them, but seeing that the lancers were retreating pretty fast, countermanded the order, saying that it was hardly worth while to follow them, but should keep an eye on them and watch their movements until the whole train passed out gf their sight, after which our skirmishers again joined their respective companies, and marched on until we came to a beautiful and thrifty little town named Amozoquco, the place where Gen. Wm. J. Worth, with his division, had a fight with the renowned Santa Anna, who, as usual, fights and runs away. Our march to-day was over a very rough road, but well shaded and the sceneries are beautiful and enchanting.
As soon as we arrived in camp the Mexican huckster women came around our quarters wanting to sell to us tortos fritillos, fritura, etc. Of course, those who had the cash bought, and those who had none said, "no carecer."
Thursday, July 8, 1847.—This morning we did not start so early on account of having only ten miles to go, so a party of us took a walk around the town. We noticed some beautiful and well built houses, one and two stories high; it has a neat and clean appearance, and a fine large plaza where its markets are held, as well as political and revolutionary meetings. Also a fine, large (Catholic of course,) church along the plaza, which like all the villages we have passed, is situated in the centre of the town, and I have seen more priests and nuns this morning than I have seen since we left Vera Cruz. How all these priests and nuns make a living is a mystery to me. Strange in all these small towns you can see no burial grounds, and what they do with their dead is a mystery.
About 8 o'clock, a.m., we left Amozoquco and passed several beautiful country seats, or so-called haciendas, and some magnificent and well cultivated farms; in fact, they remind me of some of our Lancaster county farms, except that these are larger and are mostly worked by peasants, who are no more than our slaves in the Sunny South.
Before we arrived at Puebla City, we saw some of the prettiest views that our eyes had ever beheld; the mountains and valley, and the city of Puebla at a distance, it reminded me of Philadelphia more than any city I have seen since I left, with the exception that Puebla has no such large rivers running around it as Philadelphia.
About 11 o'clock, a.m., we entered the city of Puebla, (in the Spanish tongue Puebla de los Angels), we were first taken to the St. Augustine church, stacked arms; and, of course, expecting to make this church our head-quarters, broke ranks and selected our bunks, after which several of us took a walk around the city viewing the fine, large stores and other curiosities.
The Publicanos de Mexicanos were all anxious to see the new arrivals, they having been informed that our regiment was a whole division of about eight thousand men, (in a pig's eye.)
In the evening one of our wagon masters died, and was buried near this church. It is surprising when we look over these vast assemblies of people to think how such a small force of two thousand five hundred men and fifteen pieces of artillery, under the command of Gen. Worth, could enter a city of a population of nearly one hundred thousand without the slightest opposition, for when we entered the city we saw enough of agrazientos (greasers,) to drive our army into the Gulf of Mexico.
This evening it is rumored that Gen. Scott some time ago demanded to be recalled from the command of the army, he being much dissatisfied with the Government in the way of sending him re-enforcements by dribs and by interfering with his plans of operation in capturing the City of Mexico, but the President refused to comply with his request, saying to withdraw him from his army, would demoralize the army now under his command, and give encouragement to the enemy. So Gen. Scott will have either to remain with his army or resign his high command in the United States Army, which I think he will not; so he will have to fight his enemies in the rear as well as in the front.
The Mexicans have a proverbio (proverb), of Puebla City. That the large cathedral and other holy buildings were more improved at night than in day-time, and they all say that the angels did it. So this accounts for its being called Los Angels Puebla. No wonder it is full of Catholic priests.
To-night for the first time since we left the Castle of Perote, we sleep under cover, on a nicely paved floor.
Friday, July 9, 1847.—This morning we were aroused by a great ringing of bells. I thought first that the Mexicans were trying to scare us out of the city by ringing and deafening our ears, but, fortunately, I soon learned that it was a common occurrence among the church-going people of Puebla. Every morning and evening you can see the people going in droves to church, but they all soon come out again.
At 10 o'clock, a.m., we were ordered to pack up and move our quarters to a large amphitheatre at Plaza de Toras, used as a pit in which to have bull fights. We soon arrived in the building. It is a fine building four stories high, and rounded like the National Circus building, corner of Ninth and Chestnut streets, Philadelphia, Pa. The whole building is built of wood, capable of holding fifteen thousand spectators, and I am told that when they have popular toras to fight it is full to overflowing. The building occupies a half square of ground, and is surrounded by a large well-built and cemented wall ten feet high. These are the best quarters we have had since we have been in this country.
Fresh bread and beef to-night.
Saturday, July 10, 1847.—This morning, as usual, ringing of church bells, and the way they ring it sounds as if one was trying to beat the other. I like to hear them, it puts me in mind, when I was a little boy, of the ringing of the bells of the Trinity Lutheran Church, of Lancaster, Pa., except not so early, nor so numerous.
After breakfast the soldiers went to work, fixing up their quarters, washing and cleaning their clothing.
At noon Lieut-Col. Samuel W. Black issued orders for all of his regiment to whiten their belts and clean their muskets, and brush themselves a little, so as to look like soldiers, and not like guerillas. [Laughter.] Look like soldiers from the old Keystone State. He said that he knew that we were all badly off for clothing and shoes. We have our first suits yet, but if there is any to be had he would try to get them for us. [Cheers.]
In the afternoon Joseph C. Taylor, John Newman, Alburtus Welsh and myself went strolling around the city, and while looking around to see the curiosities we noticed a mob of agraziento gathering down the street. Not knowing what these blanket gentlemen gathered for, we foolishly presented them with a round of musketry over their heads, which caused them to vamose for other parts of the city. This report of musketry started our patrol after us, and I assure you if you ever saw anybody run it was us four. After we got to our quarters, and put our muskets away, nobody knew of any soldiers being out or just came in. The patrol left with a flea in their ear.
Sunday, July 11, 1847.—This morning Alburtus Welsh, Bob Eurick and myself, agreed to go to the Catholic Cathedral, which stands in the centre of the city. After we got into the church we looked around, and I was astonished to see the manœuvring of the so-called Christians, not being accustomed to the Catholic rights. The people were constantly going in and out of church, but not without first going through their religious performances.
We walked around and examined the paintings, etc., and found some of the most rare and richest paintings that can be seen in the world. Some are as old as Methuselah. After spending several hours we left and went to the plaza, or square, as it is called in Philadelphia. Here is where the market is held, which, on Sunday after church hours, is the greatest market day in Mexico; also for all kinds of amusements. While looking around to see some of the numerous kinds of vegetables, etc., my attention was drawn to a crowd near by, and being anxious to know what it meant, I went to see, and rushed right through the crowd until I got into the middle. Here, to my surprise, I saw that the Mexicans had two game cocks held in their hands ready to go at it. My old friend. Bob Eurick, of Little York, Pa., rushed in and said, aqueste querer no mi debido (this will not do), that it was no work for Sunday, and he took one chicken, or cock, and flung it out of the surrounding crowd and pit, but did not get a chance at the other one, for the Mexican umbres took it and ran in all directions, after which we returned to our quarters, laughing at the idea of us breaking up the Mexican cock-fight.
Most every comrade I meet is speaking in the highest terms of our new quarters for cleanliness and healthfulness,
We are not troubled with that Spanish race called fleas, which has been a constant terror to our rest and sleep.
At almost every place where we were obliged to camp, there often was little or no water to quench the thirst of either man or beast, and scarcely anything to eat, and yellow-fever, diarrhœa and guerillas, constantly reduced our ranks. This is surely a great relief.
Monday, July 12, 1847.—This morning we were aroused by the sweet sound of a full brass band of music. We instantly rushed to the front of our quarters to see them pass, and ascertain the object. We soon learned the cause of the band playing so early the national airs of our country. It was two companies of dragoons, accompanied by Mr. N. P. Trist, our American Minister, on their way to the capital of Mexico, to see whether the Mexican Government will receive him and hi negotiation for peace.
We all hope that he may be successful in his mission. It will be remembered that Mr. Nicholas P. Trist arrived at Jalapa about the 14th of May last with despatches and letters to the head of the Mexican Government at their capital with power to make peace, and demanded an escort to take him to the city of Mexico, which Gen. Winfield Scott refused, saying that an escort at that time would be utterly impossible to make its way through to the capital, and that his forces at that time was too weak to make an escort. Many of our soldiers laughed at the idea of our Government sueing for peace, and only a handful of our soldiers in their land; but if we can get peace now, fair and square, in God's name let us have it, and if not, war to the knife. So I say, poor, miserable, degraded Mexicans, including priests, clergymen and nuns, which are all very numerous and more than I have ever seen in all the days of my life, the olive branch is now extended fair and honorably to you, and if you all know what is good for yourselves and your country, you will, no doubt, accept it, and if not, more bloody work will have to be done.
This evening I heard the roll of the muffled drum and the mournful music passing our quarters, taking a jewel out of the ranks of some regiment or company to his final resting-place. "Peace to his ashes." I am glad to see our soldiers, who are buried here, have neat coffins and receive a decent burial, which I regret to say was not the case at the Castle of Perote; not a single coffin did we see there.
We had for supper frescon carnro (fresh mutton), issued to us as well as fresh bread. Oh! We are living high now, but don't know how long it will last.
Tuesday, July 13, 1847.—This morning our company was ordered to mount guard. My post was at the fountain in the Alameda Park, with strong instructions not to let any Mexicans fool around it.
The general conversation among our soldiers to-day is all about Mr. Trist, in regard to the negotiation of peace. That our government must be getting tired of the war. Others have it that this is only a get off to prolong the war, and that if our government was so anxious to push for peace, why did they not send re-enforcements, according to the promise made to Gen. Scott before he sailed for Vera Cruz, and crush the war at once. But, oh! no; they don't want the war ended so soon. Somebody wants to make a little more money before it is ended.
It is a well-known fact that if Gen. Scott had about five thousand more troops at the time the battle of Cerro Gordo was fought we could have marched on to the Halls of Montezumas without the firing of a single gun or the loss of a single man, but jealousness is the cause.
In the evening Gen. Worth's band played in the park near where I was stationed, which had the effect of bringing a large crowd of senoritas, senors and umbras to the park. They seemed delighted with the music, and their whole conversation was Americanos mucho bueno.
The weather being very pleasant, had the effect of bringing out the wealthy and foreign nobilities with their splendid coaches, and blooded horses and mules attached. They occupied the road or drive around the park, which is about one mile and a half in circumference, dashing at full speed, followed behind by a ranchero or guerilla, and probably a gambler, also on a spirited mustang, no doubt stolen from some of the farmers, his own countryman. Their saddles are nearly all splendidly mounted with silver, and some with gold, and other showy equipments, costing from four to eight hundred dollars a piece, and they are the finest saddles I ever saw. We have none like them in the United States. I am informed that they are easier riding saddles than ours, and I am beginning to think that there must be some truth in it, for I noticed many of our officers having these saddles.
About 8 o'clock this evening the band serenaded Gen. Worth's headquarters, and never did I listen to better music. It raised quite a crowd in the neighborhood, and the senoritas were out on their balconies chatting, laughing, talking, and, of course, smoking their puros and cigaritos. Being relieved from guard-duty, John Newman and myself went to the theatre where they were playing a piece called "Family Jars." This is the first theatre that I have visited since I have been in Mexico, and I must say that they fully compare with our theatres in Philadelphia; the house was full.
During the day, I am told, there were six of the South Carolina Regiment died, and were all buried this evening. This regiment came out fifteen hundred strong, and now I don't believe they can muster more than half that number. Exposure has done the deed.
Wednesday, July 14, 1847.—This morning about 10 o'clock, Lieut.-Col. Black formed our battalion into line, after which he marched us out to a beautiful green commons, there to be reviewed by Gen. Quitman; here we waited for about two hours, when at last he sent word by his Orderly Sergeant that we will have to postpone the review for to-day, as he did not feel well enough to review us. Then you should have heard the boys swear, for keeping us standing in the hot sun for nothing. We returned to our quarters growling.
In the afternoon one of our officers belonging to the New York regiment, got wild and crazy drunk, and with a drawn sword ran the Mexicans in every direction. He was finally taken by the guard, and then taken to the Officer of the Day, who reprimanded him for his bad conduct. If this should have been a private, there would have been no pity, nor reprimanding, but the cry would have been "put the drunken loafer in the guard-house." And probably, if he made any unusual noise, he would have been bucked and gagged to the floor. Such is the punishment of private soldiers, if they don't behave themselves, but officers go free.
This evening I wrote five letters to different friends of mine in the United States. One—the second—to my brother Frederick, as follows:— | Puebla City, Mexico | |
| July 14, 1847 |
Dear Brother:—In my last letter to you, on the 17th of April, day before the battle of Cerro Gordo, I mentioned that if I fell at the enemy's hand that you would hear of it. I have no doubt that you have read the full report of the battle of Cerro Gordo; therefore, it is hardly worth while for me to go into any details of that memorable day, but merely tell you the facts. The report of the repulse of Gen, Pillow's volunteer division is utterly false, from the beginning to the end. The volunteer division, under the command of Brig.-Gen. Pillow, were not defeated, nor repulsed, as they have it. Nay! they held the position assigned to them firmly, and were not driven an inch from their perilous position, and stuck to it to the last. When we were first put in our line of battle, in front of the enemy's batteries, our officers had strict orders not to charge on the Mexican's batteries until the word charge came, either from Gens. Patterson or Pillow. These orders were all strictly obeyed, with the exception of Col. Haskell, of the Second Tennesseeans, and Capt. Charles Naylor, of the Second Pennsylvania, who, contrary to instructions, with about two hundred men, charged on the enemy's batteries; and, of course, were repulsed. And I, for one, protest against having this manchar (stigma) cast upon the whole volunteer division, on account of these crazy fools, who disobeyed orders.
The victory of Cerro Gordo was complete; The well-equipped and magnificently uniformed army of Gen. Santa Anna's was routed in all directions, and Col. Harney's dragoons pursued the flying enemy hotly, and cut down their scattered columns until they reached Jalapa.
The munitions of war, taken from the enemy at this battle, were destroyed, the muskets were broken upon the rocks, the iron guns spiked and pretty much all the ammunition destroyed, as we had no wagons to take them with us. You will perceive by this letter that we have advanced further into the interior of Mexico. We left Camp Plan del Rio, April 20th, and all along the National Road, from the foot of Cerro Gordo to Gen. Santa Anna's hacienda, the roadside was strewn with the dead Mexicans, and horses and mules; and at Gen. Santa Anna's headquarters, near the rancheros, where Gen. Twigg's army overtook the flying Mexicans, they lay thick everywhere, and the hediondes (stench), and a more horrid scene I don't wish to see again. A great many are still lying wounded and begging for help and aqua. They have our sympathy and feeling, which all true soldiers should have for one another, and, especially, when fallen wounded in the defense of their country.
The first day's march we encamped at El Encero, the summer residence of Gen. Santa Anna; and a beautiful place it is, with plenty of good aqua, but the buildings are poor. The second day's march was through a delightful country. We entered and marched through the city of Jalapa, the streets were crowded with citizens, and the ladies and gentlemen were standing on the balconies and in doorways, some waving their hands and handkerchiefs, which was not the case at Vera Cruz. We marched through the city, and went into camp about three miles from Jalapa. Here we encamped from the 21st of April until the 7th of May, without any tents or shelter, and being the rainy season made it very disagreeable for our men. Our knapsacks were our almohado (pillow), the wet ground was our bedtick, the wet blankets our cover and the blue, cloudy, rainy and threatening skies was our shelter for nearly one month.
Thus you can imagine yourself that our quarters were anything but pleasant, and during our encampment here many of our soldiers took sick, and many soon afterward died for the want of shelter and medical treatment.
We left camp on the 7th of May, and marched over a very hilly and rough road, up hill nearly all the time, passing through the dangerous pass of La Hoya, and arrived safely at the strong and well-constructed Castle of Perote, and camped in the Castle, which surrendered on the 22d of April to Gen. Worth's division without any resistance from the enemy, with all its heavy artillery, ammunition and over five hundred muskets, carbines, escopets, etc. Here we remained from May 8th until July 3d, with good quarters, water and fresh beef It was afterwards made the headquarters for the sick and wounded soldiers of our army, and there were at one time over five hundred men in this hospital with that disease called diarrhœa, which disease takes more to their graves than the enemy's bullets. Many of the poor soldiers who died here were buried without any military escort or any honors of war bestowed upon them. As soon as they died they were wrapped up in their blankets and taken to the dead-house, and from there, soon afterwards, were carried or carted out to the place selected for burial, and were then thrown two, and sometimes three, into one hole dug for that purpose. There were no head-boards to mark the names of these gallant men who died of wounds and diseases contracted in this country.
During our encampment at Perote we were constantly on the National Road, and other roads, hunting and fighting guerillas. We had several hard skirmishes with them, one near La Hoya Pass and Las Vegas, where we put to flight, with considerable loss, over two thousand Mexicans. This was on June 20th. These guerillas are composed of men, mounted on spirited mustangs, well-equipped with rifles, pistols, carbines, daggers, lances and lassoes. They generally have good and brave officers, but the rest of them are the most wretched and desperate ruffians in the country, such as assassins and pardoned felons, pardoned on the terms of joining the guerillas. They are mostly divided into different bands, and each party is accompanied by a Catholic priest, there being no other religion allowed in this country. This priest's duty is to first swear each one upon the cross to watch every chance, if they can see their way clear, to pursue the enemy (us Americans) to their death, their motto is, "No quarters to the Yankees." They generally put themselves on or by the road-side to attack provision and specie trains and murder the soldiers who may, from fatigue, lag behind our army; and sometimes they even cut our men's throat, heart and tongue out, hanging them on a limb of a tree right over their bodies; they also stop and murder our scouts, messengers, etc. They are promised one-half of all the provisions and specie they can plunder from our army.
This is the character of the guerillas, which, no doubt, you have read a good deal of They carry a flag with cross-bones and skull, with the words, "We give no quarters." They have now succeeded in cutting off our communication between here and Vera Cruz, but it is rumored that Gen. Frank Pierce has left Vera Cruz with fifteen hundred men, who will, if they come across them, strike terror to these national licensed highway robbers. Then our communication will again be open.
During the skirmish with the infernal guerillas, we have suffered more frightfully than at the battle of Cerro Gordo with the regular Mexican army. In fact, we would sooner face ten of the regular Mexican army than one of these outlawed guerillas.
We left the Castle of Perote July 3 and marched over a sandy plain road, which looks to me as though the sea had once rolled its course that way, being nearly all covered with all kinds of shells and pumice stones. Some of our men had an idea that they could make pipes out of these stones, and took some along to try the experiment, and some have since made good pipes.
We marched about twenty miles, passed around Mt. Pizzaros, and went into camp at Tepegahualco, a dark dismal town. It has several large inns, or messons, which are for the accommodation of the traveling community. They are only one-story high, but well and strongly built. The whole building is enclosed with a high stone fence; the main entrance, or gateway, is near the dwelling, and at nights, after all the passengers are in, the gates are shut and well fastened, for fear of robbers, which are very numerous in that section of the country. They have good water and plenty of polque to drink. The water is drained from the mountains, which causes it to be fresh and cold. The polque is the favorite drink among the Mexicans, and especially among the poor class, and it seems to be their principal product in this immediate neighborhood.
Next day's march was over what is called Tierra Templada (Table Land), passing some splendid granjos (farms,) and over a road which, at some places, was gradually ascending, and that on looking back sometimes from the head of our division, our train of wagons could be seen for miles in the rear. The scenery was, indeed, beautiful; splendid cultivated campos (fields) of wheat, corn, barley, etc. These granjos (farms) have no fences; nothing but a shepherd and his dogs watches the farm and stock on the place.
On the next two days' march it rained and hailed mostly all the time, and having no tents or shelter, it was anything but agreeable.
The next day we marched in poor spirits on account of our exposure, but in the afternoon the sun gradually made its appearance, which had the effect to cheer the boys up.
In the evening we overtook Col. Thomas Childs' brigade, encamped at, or near. El Pinal Pass, where, it is rumored, that the enemy intended to attack our division when we would pass through.
The next day our regiment was put in the advance of the whole division. We marched through the pass, which is several miles long, looking and hunting for the fanfarron (boasting) Mexicans over hills and dales without seeing any near enough to make an attack, or even to have a shot at them.
The Mexicans had the monton (hill) well fortified, such as having large rocks ready to roll down the hill upon the Yankees' heads, who may pass below. We marched on until we came to the town named Amozoquco. Here we had the first right conception of the character of the Mexican people I have often thought that our villages were beautiful, but for beauty, neatness and cleanliness, I am afraid the Mexicans will carry of the prize.
The town is about two miles square. It is laid out a-good deal like Lancaster, Pa.; the houses are built principally of brick, laid in mortar, in the shape of our pavement in our towns and cities. It contains a population of about ten thousand, and the people seem to be thriving and persevering. The next day we left Amozoquco, and passed over a beautiful rolling country of great fertility in truck gardens and vegetables, which supplies the inhabitants of Puebla with food In the rear of Puebla are hills and mountains, some of which are covered with snow nearly the whole year around. Behind which many of the most prosperous and enterprising people in Mexico, fled and hid from being persecuted and massacred by an infuriated mob; also some of the most outrageous wretches in the world for fear of getting their just dues. The city of Puebla should be called the "city of spires and domes," for it is full of both.
We marched to a church (a good place for soldiers to go to quarter); the haciendas and houses in this city are like all the rest we have saw that are of any note, (particularly halls and inns) built like a barrack, with high, strong, stone walls, having big gates, doors, bars, hinges and bolts like a prison The roofs are bomb proof, with battlement walls, all built to protect themselves from being robbed and murdered, not by us Yankees, but by their own people.
In the evening we were taken from the church to the bull ring, which is built in the shape of a theatre or circus; it is called plaza de toras, (Bull Square). This building is built entirely of wood, four stories high, but without a roof, that is the ring part; but the boxes are all closed. It is surrounded by a cemented stone wall ten feet high, and is capable of containing fifteen thousand people. Opposite this Plaza de Toras, is the Alameda Park. This is truly one of the most beautiful places I have yet seen. It is well shaded with different kinds of trees, and richly laid out with flowers and shrubs. The walks and drives are all handsomely laid out with beautiful and well adorned fountain jets and statues, throwing out delicious water, something like Franklin Square, in Philadelphia, Pa., only more tastefully ornamented.
Puebla City is like all Catholic cities; a city of idlers, loungers, Ieperos and ladrones, because it is a city of numerous churches, priests and bishops. Every believer of the Catholic religion attends church regularly.
The Roman Catholic spirit or religion, was first established in this country by Conqueror Cortez; and its bishops are now under the government of the Pope of Rome. No other religion or institution is tolerated in all Mexico. And the Catholic people (or to use plain words). Catholic bishops, have succeeded in preventing the people from venerating anything else to this day (1847). The benches or chairs are of the ordinary description, and serve the purposes of pews. I have been in some churches where there were no pews or chairs at all, and the worshippers kneel on the cold stone floor (both rich and poor alike); but always found their altars and their ornaments beyond description.
History tells us that this city was built by Sebastian Reamires. It was built in the year 1 531, and it was called by the Spaniards the First Heaven. It was the second city built by the Spaniards, Vera Cruz being the first, the rest being all Indian towns.
In the year 1550 the Cholucoans, once an independent and powerful people of the rulers of Mexico, moved from Choluco to Puebla, and the selection and situation does credit to the first builders. It is a splendid and well-planned city; situated in the midst of a large valley.
Its chief edifice is the Cathedral, there are other fine large churches, such as the Franciscos, Augustinos, Capuchinos. San Jose, and several other large buildings of note, such as the Guadaloupa Church, on the heights, Quartel of San Jose, City Hall, Fort Loretto.
It once contained a large free school for poor Indian children, but it has since been converted into a nunnery or convent.
From Vera Cruz to Puebla there are two roads, one the Orazaba Road, which leads through Cordova and Tlasculla. Cordova is where the renowned coffee grows. The other road, which we took, leads through Jalapa, Perote and other small towns.
Jalapa derives its name from a drug plant called jalapa, which grows very abundant in this section of the country. It is also renowned for the splendid view of the snow-covered volcano Orazaba.
Puebla is, I believe, the largest city between Vera Cruz and the capital of Mexico, and is second in political and commercial importance in Mexico. It has a splendid, large Cathedral, the father over all the churches in this city. It is truly a magnificent building, built in 1649 of free stones, and takes up a whole square of ground. It has a high steeple, from it is a splendid view of the historic volcano mountain Orazaba, Popocatepetl and Malinche.
The inside of this great Cathedral I shall not attempt to describe, but just give a little idea. The pillars are covered with crimson and velvet. The floor is of large white and blue marble flag stones. The altar is the greatest piece of work I have ever seen, richly ornamented with gold, silver and precious stones.
The chandelier, weighing several tons, depending from the dome, has five hundred wax lights, and the gold is valued at $25,000. And I am informed by the Mexicans that this is the greatest and strictest church in all Mexico.
There is a certain time in the day when the church bell of this cathedral rings, most all its people, it matters not where they are, tumble down on their knees and go through religious signs. Puebla is about half as large as Philadelphia, and contains a population of nearly one hundred thousand. I was really surprised to think that Gen. Worth, with four thousand soldiers and a few pieces of artillery, could enter such a large city without some opposition from its hostile population. But these people have heard that our gallant and bold little army, under Gen. Scott, had safely landed without opposition on their shores and captured the city of Vera Cruz and its strong fortress of San Juan de Ulloa, the great and triumphant victory over their favorite Gen. Santa Anna, at the battle of Cerro Gordo, the capturing of Jalapa and Castle of Perote, all this was constantly before their minds, and, no doubt, thought it was no use to make a stand or show any hostile opposition to the bold invaders.
The houses are mostly two and three stories high, built principally of stone and some rough cast. Some have their fronts neatly ornamented with fine carvings, and painted.
Most all have balconies, which, in the evening, is mostly occupied with senoritas and umbres, laughing and talking, and of course smoking their puros and cigaritos; puros means a cigar, and cigaritos means a little fine cut tobacco, nicely rolled up in a piece of white paper, about the length and thickness of a child's little finger. One cigar has more tobacco in it than ten or fifteen cigaritos, and don't cost half as much.
The streets are about the same width as those in Philadelphia, with the exception that the gutters, which run through the middle of the streets, which I think is an improvement. The side-walks are paved with large flag stones. The streets are kept clean and the city is generally healthy.
Outside of the city it is like all large cities, being built up with huts and ranches, where the poor class dwell. The city is filled with mendicants (beggars); some with little or no clothing on them, both men and women, all they have is a little dingy old blanket or a piece of rag to cover their nakedness, and some standing on the corners of streets with old hats in their hands, asking for clacos (pennies), and at the same time stealing anything they could get their hands on. The main plaza takes up a whole square of ground. And it is the place where the citizens hold their open meetings, and markets. Their largest market is on Sunday, directly after church hours, and any article that you could think off can be had; it beats the world for confectionery.
You will see that I have been engaged in two battles, both gloriously fought and victoriously won. But where the third one will be is hard for me to say, but I think it will not be until we arrive near the capital of Mexico, where they are now concentrating all their forces and strengthening all the approaching points to the ancient city. They might just as well dispense with the trouble of adding to the fortifications, for it will be something like "love's labor lost," for when the re-enforcements arrive and get ready to go on, these obstacles will be trifles. At present our fuerzas (forces) are too small to make any further advance into the interior of Mexico, therefore, we will have to await the arrival of troops from the United States, which are coming slowly.
Gen. Scott and his little army of brave men, are all anxious to march on, but it seems that our Government is constantly throwing obstacles in Gen. Scott's plan of capturing the capital, which looks as if our Government was trying to degrade him from his high position.
They have sent Mr. N. P. Trist, a Commissioner to negotiate for peace, which is, in my opinion, all a humbug. To tell you plain facts, our Government don't wish the war over so soon, for our contractors and the thieving Quartermasters have not robbed the Government and the poor soldiers out of their rations enough. This cry of peace, peace, is only to blindfold the people, and is firing in our rear. The Mexicans will not at this time make peace with our Government, the capital will have to be taken first, before the Mexican Government will be ready to talk of peace; and, mark you, this will be the case, for the Mexicans will listen to no peace proposition until the capital of Mexico is taken. Mr. N. P. Trist, is, I am informed, now on his way to the capital, but I'll bet the price of an orange that he will come back with a flea in both of his cars, for the Mexican Congress have declared not to make or listen to any peace as long as we have only nine thousand soldiers in their country.
On our last march hither we were subject to the most fatiguing hardships and suffering. We had no tents, besides most of our men were short of clothing. It rained some time, snowed most all the time, in consequence many of our men got sick, and had to crawl towards the hospital, where many of the poor soldiers died, dying faster than new recruits arrive, but such is the life of a soldier.
The agricultural or farming implements in this country are the poorest and most miserable tools I ever saw; for instance, their plows are the same pattern as the Egyptians used over five thousand years ago, it consists of a crooked stick or a fork of a tree, with an iron point nailed or tied to it with a piece of rawhide, and a small handle for the plowman to steer with and a pole to hitch a yoke of oxen to. This so-called plow will scratch a furrow in the soil three or four inches deep and about the same in width. The harrow is a branch of a tree without the leaves, a yoke of oxen hitched to this is all that is done to the ground, the soil being very rich. The furniture used in respectable houses is mostly of the mahogany pattern, and generally somewhere in the casa is a family altar containing an image of the Virgin and Christ crucified.
I will now send you the song of our soldiers, made up since the battle of Cerro Gordo. The original song is "The Girl I Left Behind Me." And you, no doubt, know that the air of this popular song is sung and played by the drums, fifes and bands during an embarkation of an English or American army, when about to open on a foreign war. The Mexicans, doubtless thinking that there is some virtue in it, have, since the battle of Cerro Gordo, adopted it into their own army, but we, in compliment to Gen. Santa Anna, call it "The Leg I Left Behind Me," as follows:— I am stumpless quite since from the shot
Of Cerro Gordo peggin',
I left behind, to pay Gen. Scott,
My grub, and gave my leg in.
I dare not turn to view the place
Lest Yankee toes should find me.
And mocking shake before my face
The Leg I Left Behind Me,
At Buena Vista I was sure
That Yankee troops must surrender,
And bade my men hurrah, for you're
All going on a bender.
That all my hopes and plans were dashed,
My scattered troops remind me,
But though I there got soundly thrashed,
I left no leg behind me.
Should Gen. Taylor of my track get scent,
Or Gen. Scott beat up my quarters,
I may as well just be content
To go across the waters.
But should that my fortune be,
Fate has not quite resigned me,
For in the museum I will see
The Leg I Left Behind Me.
This tune is played most every time the drums, fifes and bands play, and it seems to be the favorite tune for us boys. I have written a great deal more than I first intended to write, but I will now come to a close by saying, that if I was at home you would not catch me out here to fight old Santa Anna. It also gives me pleasure to state that my health has been, since I have been in this tierres calientes, remarkably good. I weigh more now than I ever did, one hundred and fifty-five pounds, which is fifteen pounds more than I ever weighed. It makes no difference how much I suffer, so long as I keep my health and strength I will not complain.
This afternoon the artillerists drilled in the square in front of the Alameda Park, and made some splendid movements in the way of drilling.
This evening some of our fellows went on a spree, and struck a dragoon, the abused dragoon, with the Captain and several privates, came to our quarters in a rage of fury, and wanted to search for the man who struck the dragoon, but our soldiers told the Captain and his men that they would stand no such nonsense, and that they had better leave, or else they might get more. This raised the Captain and his men, they drew their swords and made a big fuss. They went to see our Colonel, who just laughed at them, and said that he was very sorry for it; they then left with a flea in their ears.
Friday July 16, 1847.—This morning we were again marched out on the parade ground, and joined the brigade, which is composed of our six companies, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, New York Regiment of Volunteers and the South Carolina Regiment of Volunteers. This brigade is commanded by Brig.-Gen. James Shields, who, it will be remembered, was dangerously wounded at the battle of Cerro Gordo, and who may thank the Mexican surgeons for saving his life. They being better and more skilful surgeons in dressing wounds than our surgeons. The division is now under the command of Maj.-Gen. Quitman, both fighting Generals, and who will not leave their men in the lurch, as our's did at the battle of Cerro Gordo.
After drilling for an hour or more we came to a rest. Both Generals complimented us very highly for our skill in drilling; after which we were dismissed to our quarters, where we arrived in the evening much fatigued. Here I heard that one of the New York Regiment's men had his throat cut from ear to ear last night. The Yorkers are swearing vengeance on the agraziento. Saturday, July 17, 1847.—This morning at ten o'clock the whole volunteer division was again on the parade ground drilling and being reviewed, drilling us almost to death. After which all the officers of our division, and accompanied by the Fourth Infantry, paid a visit to the ancient Indian town Chulula, which is seven miles from Puebla; on the top of the pyramid, there once stood the Aztec Temple, but which is now replaced by a Roman Catholic church, some of us wanted to go along, but as Col. Black was going we couldn't smuggle ourselves in, for fear he would see us, and then, of course, would send us back. So we were fooled again.
In the evening they returned, and were much pleased by their visit to one of the oldest towns in all Mexico.
Sunday July 18, 1847.—This morning after breakfast we had a meeting to consult what was to be done to-day, and finally came to the conclusion that my friend, Alburtus Welsh, and myself would go to the great cathedral and see what was going on there. At the entrance there was a Mexican standing with a plate in hand to receive such contribution as you saw fit to give. We gave him a claco apiece, and went into church, which was, as usual, full; but were constantly going in and out. Some would come in, kneel before the cross, go through the Catholic signs and get up and go out. I thought to myself how ignorant and degraded these Mexicans are, and think it no wonder, where the Catholic religion rules, that the country does not flourish, because the Catholic church is opposed to all other religions, and wherever they are in power they crush all liberties; and this is the reason that some of the priests say that they would sooner suffer death than lose the power of the Catholic church. After walking around and looking at some of their movements and signs, we left fully convinced that us paganos (heathens) would not join the Catholic church yet awhile.
Monday, July 19, 1847.—Este manana there is no news. Some were drilling. In the evening I visited the teatro (theatre), where they played "Rob Roy" and the "Soldier's Return from the War." I wished it was me returning home in place of them playing it in the teatro; it would then be reality. The performance was good and elicited frequent applause. The scenery was mostly all new, and the mounting appropriate and exceedingly handsome. After it was over we returned to camp.
Tuesday, July 20, 1847.—This morning after almuerzo Joseph C. Taylor, Alburtus Welsh and myself again took a walk around the city and visited the principal churches and public buildings, and wound up in a billiard saloon, kept by an old Spaniard. Here we saw the prettiest and most curious kind of balls and tables that I ever saw before. The tables are made of solid mahogany, and the pockets are lions' heads of brass; the lower jaw, which works on a spring, opens when the ball is pocketed, and shuts up again when the ball is taken out. After playing several games we returned to our quarters, where we again heard the mournful strain of a soldier's funeral passing. With dirges dire and sad array, slowly through the streets, I saw him borne away.
Wednesday, July 21, 1847--—This morning I followed a Mexican funeral, that of a child, which, no doubt, belonged to a wealthy family. It was carried by four little boys, and it was exposed to full view. The funeral was followed by the priests and their gang with lighted candles. They took it into the church and had the grave dug in the middle of the aisle. They put artificial flowers in the grave. They then laid the child in the coffin and put a shovelful of dirt on the imparts of the face and then closed its coffin and filled up the grave. During all this time the priest was sprinkling the grave and coffin with water and had incense burning. The organ, which is a beautiful one, was playing a tune, similar to "Old Hundred," until the whole ceremony was over; but what beat me, I saw no mourning, or any person crying or in distress.
At noon I went to the Alameda Park, where I had a long talk with one of the South Carolina soldiers. Suddenly he jumped up and said that he had forgot something at his quarters and left; and when I returned I found that the infernal scoundrel had robbed me of my purse containing two doubloons and a ten-dollar gold piece, in all about fifty dollars. I was mad enough to eat him alive if I ever get hold of him. I assure you I would almost as soon lose my head as to lose, or be robbed of my spare cash, which I brought with me from the United States.
There is a saying that "He who loses money loses much, he who loses a friend loses more, but he who loses his spirit loses all;" and I find that this is a real fact; no money to get some extras to keep the stem of life going, all gone, except a dollar or so which I had loose in my pocket.
To-night I am much disheartened and low spirited, and will say good-night; may the —— catch him, or I hope he will be the first one who will get his head shot off close to his shoulders.
Thursday, July 22, 1847.—Last night I could hardly sleep, and this morning I got up much disheartened and in poor spirits, but at last I resolved to throw this feeling from my mind, and trust to better luck.
About noon a company of Mexican lancers came in with a white flag, but I could not learn their object. It was soon rumored that the Mexicans will not receive Mr. N. P. Trist, our American Minister, to negotiate for peace. This brings my remarks true. They will not make peace until the halls of Montezumas are stormed and taken. So now, lookout for breakers!
This afternoon there was considerable excitement at the headquarters of the New York regiment owing to one of the Lieutenants, named, I think, Myen Reid, a gallant officer, killing one of their own men with his sword, running it through his heart, for trying to release himself, he being bucked and gagged at the time. The deceased's brother, who belongs to the same regiment, swears that he will shoot Lieut. Reid, if it should be in the midst of battle, for this cowardly act. In the evening there was a requisition on our detachment for five soldiers to fill up Capt. Steptoes' field battery for to go on to the city of Mexico. This does not look much like peace—it means work.
Friday, July 23, 1847.—This morning, at 10 o'clock, a. m., Col. Harney's Dragoons had a splendid turnout. The whole regiment under his command, accompanied by the splendid brass band, mounted on fine grey horses; their turnout was highly imposing, and the music could not be beaten.
In the evening Mr. Hart, manager of the theatre, came to our quarters for a file of soldiers to fire in the piece to-night, "Romeo and Juliet." I volunteered my services, and took part in it; then sat and saw the tragedy played through. Whoever would have thought, that I, Jacob Oswandel, of Company C, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, would ever become a theatre actor!
Saturday July 24, 1847.—This morning, at 10 o'clock, a.m., Brig.-Gen. James Shields visited our quarters, and examined them thoroughly; then he ordered the men out by companies, after which he examined our muskets carefully and at the same time taking a good and sharp look at every soldier; after which he took hold of Lieut.-Col. Black's hand and congratulated him, saying that it was highly gratifying to him to say that both quarters and soldiers looked remarkably well, and that he had not the least doubt that they would always keep themselves so. Oh, yes, if Gen. Shields had only come an hour or so sooner he would not have said this; he should have seen the ragamuffins. At noon marched out on the parade ground to drill for several hours, so as to be prepared to meet the flower of the army of Gen. Santa Anna.
Sunday, July 25, 1847.—This morning early, it was ascertained that seven men from Capt. Rush's company had deserted, three non-commissioned officers and four privates. The dragoons were immediately despatched in all directions after them, and if they are caught, God bless their souls, (if they have any). In fact there are a great many of our soldiers deserting; even at Jalapa city, the Mexicans held out inducements of great promise to our men, (and particularly to the Catholic portion), to desert and join their cause; they would offer them money and a commission as captain in their army, if they can induce a certain number of soldiers to desert, by promising promotion hereafter; but I am glad to say that they were only successful among the Catholic portion of our army who were persuaded by the priests that it was wrong and sinful to fight against their church and religion. But some had other causes; cause of bad treatment at the hands of young snot-nose and tyrannical officers. We have but one Irishman in our company, and he is what they call an Orangeman, heretico Americano.
In the evening the Fourth Infantry Band played in the Alameda Park, and, as usual, the place was crowded. It wound up in a regular fight between a young umbra and an elderly senorita, and I assure you there was a little fun for a time.
No positive news yet from the city of Mexico in regard to Mr. N. P. Trist and his peace stock.
Monday, July 26, 1847.—This morning, at 10 o'clock, a.m., we left for the field or parade-ground, where we had a division drill under the command of Gen. Quitman. He drilled us until noon, and then turned us over to Gen. Shields who marched the old volunteer brigade to town, and there dismissed us to our quarters. This has been a hard drill. The sun being very warm.
This evening five of the South Carolina Volunteers were buried. They were all in very poor health. It seems strange that the people of the South cannot stand the hot climate so well as us in the North.
Tuesday, July 27, 1847.—This morning the Second Infantry, accompanied by their officers, paid a visit to the city of Chulula. Myself being well acquainted with one of their Sergeants, smuggled myself in their ranks and followed them. The road to Chulula being pretty good, we were not long going there; on the way we met several Indians carrying very big loads of earthenware, strapped on their backs. They having the strap going around their foreheads, in this way they trot along on a dog's trot for miles; carrying with them a strong stick, that in case they want to rest they prop the stick under their load.
The Pyramid of Chulula, which looks more like a natural hill than anything I have ever seen, was erected many years before the arrival of Cortez and his bold band of robbers, still remains, but I am told that most of its beauties has been destroyed by Cortez and the long series of revolutions in Mexico. This pyramid covers many acres of ground, and on the top of it is a church or temple. Its bases looks to me as if it was built of bricks, but hard. The interior is abundant with cavities or vaults, roofed in with beams of cedar, for places for sepulchres, which contains skeletons, idols, etc. There are several small pyramids surrounding this large one. It appears to me to have been formed by cutting a hill into an artificial shape. Its dimensions are immense, being nearly three miles in circumference, and about three hundred and fifty feet high. It is divided into terraces and slopes, covered with platforms, stages and bastions, and are elevated one above the other; and all formed with large stones skilfully cut and joined without any cement. In some respects the style of architecture resembles the Gothic, being massive and durable, and I am informed, in other respects, it resembles the Egyptian.
The general construction, manner and style of architecture is different from anything I have ever seen.
The city of Chulula is built in a large, level and fertile valley, and extends as far as the eye can reach. The rivulets and numerous fields of maguey plants, which produces a drink called polque, looks as if it was almost at our feet. Here is a splendid view of the city of Puebla and other small towns. Its shining domes are plainly to be seen from here. The surrounding volcanoes and other historic mountains are also visible, and the most beautiful and romantic scenes that human eyes ever beheld can be seen. No writer or historian can describe the nature of these scenes; and I shall ever remember it the longest day of my life.
Before the time Conqueror Cortez came to this country this city of Chulula contained from twenty to twenty-five thousand houses, and as many more banqueting houses. The number of temples and turrets were equal with that of the number of days in a year. It, at one time, contained (according to the number of houses) a population from one hundred and thirty to one hundred and thirty-five thousand inhabitants. Now its population is scarcely six thousand souls. It, no doubt, must have been at one time a most beautiful city.
It still has the appearance of being a neat city, but the ruins, caused by Cortez and his band of robbers, are numerous.
All this numerous destruction of property and thousands of lives, was all done by Conqueror Fernando Cortez to inspire (he said) new religion among the Mexicans and Indians. Yes, inspired for their gold and nothing else.
The people seemed to me to be nearly all poor, and poorly clad, and not very thriving.
They carry on the manufacturing of all kinds of earthen ware, which seems to be the principal traffic and production of this section of the country. They take it mostly to Puebla and other markets.
After spending several hours in examining and viewing the curiosities, we returned to our quarters well pleased with our trip to the ancient pyramid of Chulula.
The early history of Mexico tells us that it was in this city (Chulula) where King Montezuma was first foretold of the downfall and destruction of his kingdom by several running signs.
It was in the temple of this city where their god, Quezalcoalti, informed the people that a strange and mighty people were coming to take possession of the Mexican dominion, and all the believers and reporters of this sign, were all committed to prison by King Montezuma's orders, and would, doubtless, have put them all to death had they not escaped from prison; yet their wives and children were all put to death upon King Montezuma's command. Quezalcoalti fled and sailed from where Vera Cruz now stands. These signs soon afterwards made their appearance, and came as a mighty comet or a blazing star, and continued for a whole year around.
The great temple Cue, King Montezuma's palace, in the city of Mexico, took fire and burned to the ground. How it took fire no one knew, and no one knows to the present day.
The water which was thrown on the temple Cue to quench it burnt like brim-stone, and at the same time of this fire there appeared in the sky three fiery heads at noon-day, and out of a long tail shot sparks of fire to the earth. These signs from above made the people tremble and rush from one place to another. Even King Montezuma, who did not believe in these signs and reports, began to think that there must be some truth in these reports, and began to get alarmed and prepared for the emergency.
Thus, the great prince, Montezuma, who, by his valor and good success in the wars, had, in a few years of his reign (before Cortez came), subdued the better part of a hundred cities and towns to his dominion, and in the height of his glory he was foretold of his downfall, which proved true.
air, supposing thereby to be pardoned by their indulgent gods, the five priests then took hold of their legs, arms and heads, put wooden collars about the sufferers' necks, at the same time the Papas showed reverence to the idols, and with a sharp stone, he cut open the breasts of the prisoners, who, in a deplorable condition, lay on the pyramidical stone, and pulling their hearts out of their bodies, threw the same reeking to the sun, and at last threw them toward the idol, and their dead bodies down the stairs, after which the same were carried away, everyone taking his own prisoner and roasting and boiling him, and served him up to his friends as a great trophy.
This kind of murdering the poor ignorant people was not only used among the Mexicans, but also among the other neighboring Indians, and especially in the city of Chulula (which signifies the sanctity of all the gods), for in this town six thousand small children were Offered yearly. In fact, in most all the ancient towns were seen hung abundance of men's bones bound up together, and under them was written the names of their enemies, whose flesh had either been sacrificed or eaten.
The last celebration of this kind took place in 1507, twelve years before the landing of Cortez.Wednesday, July 28, 1847.—I forgot to mention yesterday the death of one of the Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers. He belonged to the Cameron Guards, and was one of the party that came from Lancaster, Pa., with Sergt. Hambright. He was a good soldier and a jolly good fellow, and was buried with all the honors of war.
At noon news was received at the headquarters by our spy company that a large body of Mexican soldiers, about two thousand strong, with four pieces of artillery, had passed around this city, to the right, last night; and were now at a small town named Hattano, near Amozoquco, awaiting for Gen. Frank Peirce's train to arrive, and there to make an attack. On the receipt of this news Gen. Scott immediately sent four regiments to go in pursuit of them, accompanied by several pieces of artillery and two companies of dragoons.
This evening a member of our company died, named Charles Mason. He hails from Philadelphia, Pa., and has been a good soldier. He was buried with all the honors of war. Thursday, July 29, 1847.—This morning we were again marched out on the parade-ground, and had a glorious old drill. We drilled until noon. When we returned to our quarters we were much fatigued after the performance.
The Mexicans have a report out to-day that Capt. Samuel H. Walker, of the Texan Rangers, was killed by the guerillas, near the Castle of Perote, while out scouting. If this report is true the American army will meet with a severe loss, but the Mexicans are such infernal liars that little confidence is placed in the report.
To-night the theatre and circus company were combined, and played "Timour, the Tartar," to a crowded house, with much success.
This is the first evening for a long time that we did not hear the Dead March played. So our army's health must be improving.
I learn this evening that the mail that started from here to Vera Cruz on the 16th inst. was captured by the guerillas. If this report is correct my letters that I wrote home are in the hands of these guerillas, but they cannot find anything by them of our movements.
Friday, July 30, 1847.—This morning we were again marched to the parade ground to have a brigade-drill, and it was a splendid sight to witness the different batteries of light artillery drilling and firing off blank cartridges. The cavalry mounting and charging in fine style. The infantry went through marching and firing order.
At noon we returned to our quarters well pleased with our drilling, and what we had seen on the field. On our way to our quarters we met five Mexican lancers coming in with a flag of truce. Their design I could not learn, but I suppose it is to exchange some prisoners, which were captured by some of the guerillas a few days ago.
In the evening another one of our company died, named William Dayton Huston, of Philadelphia, Pa. He has been lingering with the diarrhœa for some time. Also Lieut. John H. Hill, of the Second Dragoons. He hailed from Philadelphia, Pa. He was at the siege of Vera Cruz and the battle of Cerro Gordo.
Saturday, July 31, 1847.—This morning Mr. N. P. Trist and the dragoons, with the white flag of truce, returned; and I believe there is no sign of peace. So more fighting must be done, and the sooner the better.
At noon Gen. Scott and staff paid another visit to the town of Chulula.
This afternoon the funeral of Lieut. Hill, of the Second Regiment of Dragoons, took place. His horse, with the deceased's boots in stirrups of the saddle, followed his corpse. The funeral was largely attended, with mournful music. He was buried in the Bishop Cemetery, which is beautifully laid out. Directly afterward we buried our comrade, William Dayton Huston, near our quarters, a piece of ground used by our regiment for that purpose.
This evening Gen. Scott and his party returned to the city, and no doubt were well pleased with their trip.
In the evening a theatre manager came to our quarters for a few men to volunteer in the play called "Hamlet." George W. Nightlinger and myself offered our services, Mr. Nightlinger took the character of the Ghost, "I am thy father's spirit." He being tall and slender, took and played his part well. Myself was one of the supernumeraries, and took different characters in the play. The house was crowded. After my return from the theatre I was detailed to go on picket-guard in the place of one of our men, who took sick. Soon afterwards a tremendous storm, rain and hail, set in; tronantors (thundering) increasing intensely and raining in torrents; and the sky was darkened as black as darkness could make it; the wind blew and dashed the large drops of moisture, in the form of spray, directly in your humble sentinel's face. I stood for nearly two hours, half bewildered by the violence of the storming wind, rain, hail, &c., saying to myself, "When will this storming wind cease?" Sunday, August 1, 1847.—This morning after I got off guard-duty and breakfast I took a good nap until 2 o'clock, p.m.
In the evening there was quite a fuss kicked up between the two Pittsburgh companies, Capt. Denny, Co. A., and Capt. Herron, Co. K, both of the First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers. They kept it up until both parties were put in the guard-house for future good behavior. Of all the black eyes, skinned noses and bruised faces it beat all that I have ever seen. All quiet again.
Monday, August 2, 1847.—This morning the soldiers, who were put in the guard-house last evening for fighting and disorderly conduct, were released with joy to themselves and friends; and some of them looked as if they wouldn't be able to see daylight for sometime. It serves them right, why not behave.
At 10 o'clock we again went to the parade-ground, and had another long drill, for over two hours. I don't know what our officers mean by drilling us so much, for we can shoot and yell, and that is all that is necessary to frighten the Mexicans.
In the evening it commenced raining, and it increased in intensity with heavy strokes of tronantor que reldmpago (thundering and lightning). The sky overhead was a black pall. All quiet, except some are telling stories, singing songs and playing cards. Some would read the newspapers sent from the States, while others were writing letters, and so on until the tap of the drum beats, when all laughter, songs and playing of cards must be* stopped, and all lights must be put out.
Tuesday, August 3, 1847.—This morning we again marched to the field, and had another long drill, preparing for the bloody contest, which (according to rumor) we will soon have to fight.
This afternoon a squadron of dragoons came in from the Castle of Perote. They bring a very large mail with them. I received one letter from home. The dragoons report that Gen. Peirce is on his way with two thousand five hundred men, with a train consisting of nearly two hundred wagons loaded with provisions, ammunition and other ordnance stores.
In the evening one of the Fourth Infantry and one of the South Carolina were buried.
We are all anxiously looking with strained eyes for the paymaster to come around and pay us off before we march on to the city of Mexico. We are now in the service eight months, and all we received was two months' pay, $17.50. So our government, who are constantly firing in our rear, owes us now six months' pay. This long delay causes much grumbling, grievance and dissatisfaction among the soldiers. Oh! do, paymaster, come, for I have lately been robbed of all my cash, and am now one of the sufferers.
It is rumored to-night that we will march towards the city of Mexico as soon as Gen. Peirce arrives. So hurry up Peirce.
Wednesday, August 4, 1847.—This morning an extra was published from the American Star office, stating that Capt. Ruff, with a party of dragoons, had a fight with a large force of lancers and guerillas, at a small town called San Juan Los Lanos, not far from Ojo de Aqua. The Captain in his account says that he killed about thirty and wounded about fifty, and he had only one killed and one wounded in the fight. He says had he known where their quarters were not one would have escaped, but he came upon them unexpected. Also Gen. Peirce with his large train is at Tepegahaulco, and will be here in a few day.
So the news for this evening is prepare for marching orders.
Thursday, August 5, 1847.—This morning nearly the whole army marched out on the parade-ground and had a good drill in field movements, with much satisfaction to all our Generals, and they are fully convinced that we can drive the flower of the army of Gen. Santa Anna. Gen. Scott with his staff in full uniform were on the field to view the drilling. This afternoon a few of us took a walk around the city to take a good look at it again, for perhaps we never may see it again, as there will be a great many balls, canisters, grape shot, muskets and rockets fired at us before we get back to this place again.
No deaths this evening. The health of our army is improving, there being scarcely any deaths among so many soldiers, now ten thousand, but there are still a great many in the hospital who either have been wounded or are wasting away to skeletons with that awful disease diarrhœa.
Friday August 6, 1847.—This morning we received orders to hold ourselves in readiness to march on to-morrow or next day.
About 10 o'clock, a.m., Gen. Peirce's division and large train arrived. His force is about twenty-five hundred strong. Two companies of volunteers from old Pennsylvania are in this division, they are from Lewistown and Huntingdon, Pa. I knew several in the Lewistown company, Capt. Irvin and about fifteen of his men. They report of having no fight on the road, except fired upon several times from the different passes, hills and chaparrals by the guerillas. They also say that the beautifully cemented bridge over the Plan del Rio was blown up by the guerillas to detain the trains as they may come by, but they cut a road through the bank along the river, and in two hours they were again on their way to this city.
The garrison of Jalapa is broken up, and the detachment under the command of Col. Childs came with Gen Peirce's division, and are to form the main garrison of Puebla. So there is no station or garrison between this and Perote Castle. Here at the Castle of Perote are stationed four companies of our First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, commanded by Col. Wynkoop and Capt. Walker, and two companies of mounted riflemen. The companies at Perote are Co. B, Capt. Nagle; Co. E, Capt. Binder; Co. F, Capt. Bennett; Co. H, Capt. Scott, and Third Artillery, Capt. Taylor. This forms the garrison of the town and Castle of Perote. There will be left in this city (Puebla) over two thousand sick and wounded soldiers; so, of course, it will take about one thousand soldiers to take care of these invalids, besides the garrison to guard the stores and other ammunitions of war.
I also learn by this train of the death of Andrew Wray, who died on the 15th of July at the Castle of Perote. He was a Corporal in our company, and a well drilled officer. He was every inch a soldier, and took great pains and time in showing his men how to handle their muskets and drill, but somehow he and Capt. Small could never agree, and before we left Perote he asked Capt. Small to be transferred to Capt. Scott's company, which was done, but lost his Corporalcy.
In the evening most of our men are preparing to march, and some are seen writing letters to their folks at home. I myself, have written several letters to my parents and personal friends, and stated in them that we have received orders to march on to the great city of Mexico, and there expect to fight some bloody battles. One letter was to my brother Frederick, as follows:—
| Puebla City, Mexico | |
| August 6, 1847 |
Dear Brother:—I am happy to state that I received your letter to-day, and I need not say that it was welcome, for I have been looking for a letter from you for some time. When we arrived in this city, our army was too small to march on to the city of Mexico, so we were obliged to stay here until our Government had exerted itself to supply the places of the dead, wounded, sick and discharged volunteers, with new regiments. They are now arriving as fast as the soldiers can be sent forward. We have made all necessary preparations to march on to the halls of Montezumas. The whole army has been drilling almost every day, and also recruiting in strength. We now have orders to march on to the city of Mexico tomorrow or next day. We have been informed that the Mexicans have strongly fortified it, and their boast is, "That they not only intend to give us a warm reception, but to defeat our army and cut it up into fragments."
We have heard them boast before, and the country knows the result, whether they ever come true.
Mark what I am saying, I am confident that our army will be successful in every engagement. Our army has adopted a motto:—"Victory or death." Therefore, you can all rest assured that our army will be victorious in every battle. Yes! Victory is on every soldier's lips; victory is our only password in this campaign.
I expect by the time you receive this letter our flag will wave triumphantly over the halls of Montezumas.
Our whole army is in fighting order, and I, myself, am fully prepared to go into it; and, as I said in my former letters, if it should be my time to fall, it will be on the field of Gen. Scott's fame.
Our whole army is anxious to march on toward the capital of Mexico; yet, at the same time, we do not like to leave this beautiful and well planned city of Puebla.
Oh! How I love to hear the various tones of the church bells strike; they put me in mind (particularly on Sunday when you and I were little boys) of the bell chimes of the Trinity Lutheran and other churches of Lancaster.
The cathedral has its towers full of bells of different sizes. One strikes every half-hour, one every hour, others toll the curfew, and again others call the sinners to church to have their sins forgiven.
The whole of the bells chime out together at 6 o'clock, a.m., 12 o'clock at noon, and 12 o'clock at midnight, when all must be in doors,
Sunday (like in all other towns) is the big day of the week. The stores and markets are opened in the morning; most everybody carries a revolver, bowie knife and dagger. They have no fist-fight, or knocking one another down—they shoot or tab one another. They carry a belt around their waist. Almost every house you come to here has a portico or open yard in the middle, around which the rooms are built, and their stables are below. These yards are always full of flowers which bloom nearly the whole year around. In the upper class they have a fine fountain in the centre, surrounded with fine trees, principally orange.
The climate is pleasant; the air has a clear and pure smell; the sun, particularly in the middle of the day, is very hot and very powerful in its light, dry atmosphere; but the moment it goes behind the mountains, and more particularly when it is cloudy, a sudden chill pervades the air. At nights we have to sleep under our blankets to keep warm, however much we may perspire during the day. Water left in our canteens, or in other vessels, over night, is nearly as cold as ice-water the next morning.
I see a statement in the American Star (a paper published in this city), that after leaving the sick, wounded and a garrison at Puebla, our marching forces to go to the capital of Mexico, will be over ten thousand men. This is a small force to march to a city whose population is over two hundred thousand, besides a standing army of thirty thousand soldiers, to assault a carefully and well fortified position.
Gen. Scott, with the victories already won, and the confidence of his gallant little army, which never retreated an inch, will advance with his present force and give battle to the confident foe. I again bid you farewell, for many of us will have to fall before this bloody conflict is over, and many, I hope, will live to tell the true history of the battles about to be fought in the Valley of Mexico. I am fully prepared to go into this fight; and, as I said before, if it should be my time to fall it will be on the field of Scott's fame.
I am well and in good spirits.