Northern Mexico lay helpless at Taylor’s feet. The stars and stripes floated over the citadel of Monterey, and the flower of the Mexican army, commanded by their greatest general, had been repulsed at Buena Vista. Nothing now remained but to strike a blow at the vitals of the southern republic. That task had been imposed on General Scott, whose skill and experience designated him as the proper man to conduct a campaign in which the fate of the war was to be decided.

On March 6, 1847, the fleet of transports and men-of-war was concentrated near Vera Cruz. It bore a small but well-disciplined force of some twelve thousand men, comprising the whole standing army of the United States—four regiments of artillery, eight of infantry, one of mounted riflemen, and detachments of dragoons—besides eight volunteer regiments of foot and one of horse. Major-General Scott commanded the whole, with Worth, fresh from the brilliant capture of Monterey, Twiggs, and the volunteer Patterson as his brigadiers. Under the latter served Generals Quitman, Pillow, and Shields.

Vera Cruz was the strongest place on this continent, after Quebec. Situated on the border of the Gulf, it was surrounded by a line of bastions and redans, terminating at either extremity in a fort of large capacity. A sandy plain encircled it on the land side, affording no protection to an assailant within seven hundred yards of the walls; and toward the sea, on a reef at a distance of rather more than half a mile, the famous fort of San Juan d’Ulloa commanded the harbor. In March, 1847, the city mounted nearly ninety, the castle one hundred and twenty-eight guns of various calibers, including several thirteen-inch mortars and ten-inch Paixhans. So implicit was the faith of the Mexicans in the strength of the place that, having rendered it, as they believed, impregnable, they left its defence to a garrison of five thousand men, and bade them remember that the city was named Vera Cruz the Invincible. This was the first mistake of the enemy; a second was omitting to provision the place for a siege; a third was allowing women, children, and non-combatants to remain in the town. In this instance, as in so many others, the overweening assurance of the Mexicans was the cause of their ruin. Monterey and Buena Vista should have taught them to know better.

The American troops began to land on March 9, 1847, and by the 12th a line of troops five miles long surrounded Vera Cruz. On the 22d the bombardment was begun, and on the 26th, without an assault, the Mexicans began negotiations for a surrender, which took place three days afterward.

CERRO GORDO

On April 8th the army, headed by Twiggs’ division, moved forward on the national road toward the city of Mexico. At the mountain-pass of Cerro Gordo the Mexicans, under Santa Anna, had made a stand. They had planted batteries to command all the level ground, and behind them were some twelve thousand infantry and cavalry. The fighting began on the 17th with an attack by Twiggs on the Mexican left, which resulted in driving back the Mexicans, and in the capture of a strong position on a hill called Atalaya, where some cannon were mounted in the night. The next day the desperate assaults of Harney and Riley stormed the redoubts on the crest of Cerro Gordo, and Riley and Shields charged and captured the Mexican batteries on the road. On the left Pillow was less successful, but the guns of Cerro Gordo were turned against the Mexicans, who, seeing the defeat of Santa Anna, hoisted a white flag. Three thousand men, including five generals, surrendered to General Scott, and over a thousand were killed or wounded. Of the American force of eighty-five hundred, sixty-three were killed and three hundred and sixty-eight wounded.

The unopposed seizure of the castle of La Hoya, and the occupation of the towns of Perote and Puebla were followed by a delay due to the necessity of waiting for reinforcements to replace the three thousand volunteers whose time had expired.

Reinforcements arrived but slowly, and each detachment, as it moved from Vera Cruz to the mountains, had to sustain a running fight with the guerrillas whom Santa Anna had let loose on the road. All arrived, however, in safety, and by the beginning of August General Scott was ready to move on the valley of Mexico with ten thousand seven hundred and thirty-eight men, leaving Colonel Childs with fourteen hundred to garrison Puebla. On the third day they stood upon the summit of the ridge which looks down upon the valley of Mexico, with the city itself glittering in the centre, and bright lakes, grim forts, and busy causeways dotting the dark expanse of marsh and lava. That night the troops encamped at the foot of the mountains and within the valley on the border of Lake Chalco.

With the energy which characterized Santa Anna throughout the war, he had prepared for a desperate defence. Civil strife had been silenced, funds raised, an army of twenty-five thousand men mustered, and every precaution taken which genius could suggest or science indicate. Nature had done much for him. Directly in front of the invading army lay the large lakes of Xochimilco and Chalco. These turned, vast marshes, intersected by ditches and for the most part impassable, surrounded the city on the east and south—on which side Scott was advancing—for several miles. The only approaches were by causeways, and these Santa Anna had taken prodigious pains to guard. The national road to Vera Cruz—which Scott must have taken had he marched on the north side of the lakes—was commanded by a fort mounting fifty-one guns on an impregnable hill called El PeÑon. Did he turn the southern side of the lakes, a field of lava, deemed almost impassable for troops, interposed a primary obstacle, and fortified positions at San Antonio, San Angel, and Churubusco, with an intrenched camp at Contreras, were likewise to be surmounted before the southern causeways could be reached. Beyond these there yet remained the formidable castle of Chapultepec and the strong enclosure of Molino del Rey to be stormed before the city gates could be reached. Powerful batteries had been mounted at all these points, and ample garrisons detailed to serve them. The bone and muscle of Mexico were there. Goaded by defeat, Santa Anna never showed so much vigor; ambition fired Valencia; patriotism stirred the soul of Alvarez; Canalejo, maddened by the odium into which he had fallen, was boiling to regain his sobriquet of “The Lion of Mexico.” With a constancy equal to anything recorded of the Roman Senate, the Mexican Congress, on learning the defeat at Cerro Gordo, had voted unanimously that any one opening negotiations with the enemy should be deemed a traitor, and the citizens with one accord had ratified the vote. Within six months Mexico had lost two splendid armies in two pitched battles against the troops now advancing against the capital; but she never lost heart.

CONTRERAS

When the engineers reported that the fortress on El PeÑon could not be carried without a loss of one-third the army, Scott decided to move by the south of the lakes; and Worth accordingly advanced, leading the van, as far as San Augustin, nine miles from the city of Mexico. There a large field of lava—known as the Pedregal—barred the way. On the one side, a couple of miles from San Augustin, the fortified works at San Antonio commanded the passage between the field and the lake; on the other the ground was so much broken that infantry alone could advance, and General Valencia occupied an intrenched camp, with a heavy battery, near the village of Contreras, three miles distant. Scott determined to attack on both sides, and sent forward Worth on the east and Pillow and Twiggs on the west. The latter advanced as fast as possible over the masses of lava on the morning of the 19th, and by 2 P.M. a couple of light batteries were placed in position and opened fire on the Mexican camp.

At the same time, General Persifer Smith conceived the plan of turning Valencia’s left, and hastened along the path through the Pedregal in the direction of a village called San Jeronimo. Colonel Riley followed. Pillow sent Cadwalader’s brigade on the same line, and later in the day Morgan’s regiment was likewise despatched toward that point. They drove in the Mexican pickets and skirmishers, dispersed a few parties of lancers, and occupied the village without loss. Seeing the movement, Santa Anna hastened to Valencia’s support with twelve thousand men. He was discovered by Cadwalader just as the latter gained the village road; and, appreciating the vast importance of preventing a junction between the two Mexican generals, that gallant officer did not hesitate to draw up his brigade in order of battle. So broken was the ground that Santa Anna could not see the amount of force opposed to him, and declined the combat. This was all Cadwalader wanted. Shields’ brigade was advancing through the Pedregal, and the troops which had already crossed were rapidly moving to the rear of Valencia’s camp. Night, too, was close at hand. When it fell, Smith’s, Riley’s, and Cadwalader’s commands had gained the point they sought. Shields joined them at ten o’clock; and at midnight Captain Lee crossed the Pedregal, with a message from General Smith to General Scott, to say that he would commence the attack at daybreak next morning.

It rained all night, and the men lay in the mud without fires. At three in the morning (August 20th) the word was passed to march. Such pitchy darkness covered the face of the plain that Smith ordered every man to touch his front file as he marched. Now and then a flash of lightning lit up the narrow ravine; occasionally a straggling moonbeam pierced the clouds and shed an uncertain glimmer on the heights; but these flitting guides only served to make the darkness seem darker. The soldiers groped their way, stumbling over stones and brushwood, and did not gain the rear of the camp till day broke. Then Riley bade his men look to the priming of their guns and reload those which the rain had wet. With the first ray of daylight the firing had recommenced between the Mexican camp and Ransom’s corps stationed in front and Shields’ brigade at San Jeronimo. Almost at the same moment Riley began to ascend the height in the rear. Before he reached the crest, his engineers, who had gone forward to reconnoitre, came running back to say that his advance had been detected, that two guns were being pointed against him, and a body of infantry were sallying from the camp. The news braced the men’s nerves. They gained the ridge, and stood a tremendous volley from the Mexicans without flinching. Poor Hanson of the Seventh—a gallant officer and an excellent man—was shot down with many others; but the Mexicans had done their worst. With steady aim, the volley was returned; and ere the smoke rose a cheer rang through the ravine and Riley fell with a swoop on the intrenchments. With bayonet and butt of musket, the Second and Seventh drove the enemy from his guns, leaping into his camp and slaughtering all before them. Up rushed Smith’s own brigade on the left, driving a party of Mexicans before them, and charging with the bayonet straight at Torrejon’s cavalry, which was drawn up in order of battle. Defeat was marked on their faces. Valencia was nowhere to be found. Salas strove vainly to rouse his men to defend themselves with energy; Torrejon’s horse, smitten with panic, broke and fled at the advance of our infantry. Riley hurled the Mexicans from their camp after a struggle of a quarter of an hour; and as they rushed down the ravine their own cavalry rode over them, trampling down more men than the bayonet and ball had laid low. On the right, as they fled, Cadwalader’s brigade poured in a destructive volley; and Shields, throwing his party across the road, obstructed their retreat and compelled the fugitives to yield themselves prisoners of war; The only fight of any moment had taken place within the camp. There, for a few minutes, the Mexicans had fought desperately; two of our regimental colors had been shot down; but finally Anglo-Saxon bone and sinew had triumphed. To the delight of the assailants, the first prize of victory was the guns O’Brien had abandoned at Buena Vista, which were regained by his own regiment. Twenty other guns and over one thousand prisoners, including eighty-eight officers and four generals, were likewise captured, and some fifteen hundred Mexicans killed and wounded. The American loss in killed, wounded, and missing was about one hundred men.

Barely taking time to breathe his troops, Smith followed in pursuit toward the city. By ten o’clock in the morning he reached San Angel, which Santa Anna evacuated as he approached. The general-in-chief and the generals of division had by this time relieved Smith of his command; Scott rode to the front, and in a few brief words told the men there was more work to be done that day. A loud cheer from the ranks was the reply. The whole force then advanced to Coyacan, within a mile of Churubusco, and prepared to assault the place.

CHURUBUSCO

Santa Anna considered it the key to the city, and awaited the attack in perfect confidence with thirty thousand men. The defences were of a very simple description. On the west, in the direction of Coyacan, stood the large stone convent of San Pablo, in which seven heavy guns were mounted, and which, as well as the wall and breastworks in front, was filled with infantry. A breastwork connected San Pablo with the tÊte de pont over the Churubusco River, four hundred yards distant. This was the easternmost point of defence, and formed part of the San Antonio causeway leading to the city. It was a work constructed with the greatest skill—bastions, curtain, and wet ditch, everything was complete and perfect—four guns were mounted in embrasure and barbette, and as many men as the place would hold were stationed there. The reserves occupied the causeway behind Churubusco. Independently of his defences, Santa Anna’s numbers—nearly five to one—ought to have insured the repulse of the assailants.

By eleven—hardly seven hours having elapsed since the Contreras camp had been stormed, five miles away—Twiggs and Pillow were in motion toward the San Antonio causeway. Nothing had been heard of Worth, who had been directed to move along the east side of the Pedregal on San Antonio; but it was taken for granted he had carried the point, and Scott wished to cut off the retreat of the garrison. Twiggs was advancing cautiously toward the convent, when a heavy firing was heard in advance. Supposing that a reconnoitring party had been attacked, he hastily sent forward the First Artillery, under Dimmick, through a field of tall corn, to support them. No sooner had they separated from the main body than a terrific discharge of grape, canister, and musketry assailed them from the convent. In the teeth of the storm they advanced to within one hundred yards of that building, and a light battery under Taylor was brought up on their right and opened on the convent. Over an hour the gunners stood firm to their pieces under a fire as terrible as troops ever endured; one-third of the command had fallen before they were withdrawn. Colonel Riley meanwhile, with the stormers of Contreras, had been despatched to assail San Pablo on the west, and, like Dimmick, was met by a murderous rain of shot. Whole heads of companies were mowed down at once. Thus Captain Smith fell, twice wounded, with every man beside him; and a single discharge from the Mexican guns swept down Lieutenant Easley and the section he led. It was the second time that day the gallant Second had served as targets for the Mexicans, but not a man fell back. General Smith ordered up the Third in support, and these, protecting themselves as best they could behind a few huts, kept up a steady fire on the convent. Sallies from the works were constantly made and as constantly repulsed, but not a step could the assailants make in advance.

By this time the battle was raging on three different points. Worth had marched on San Antonio that morning, found it evacuated, and given chase to the Mexicans with the Fifth and Sixth Infantry. The causeway leading from San Antonio to the tÊte de pont of Churubusco was thronged with flying horse and foot; our troops dashed headlong after them, never halting till the advance corps—the Sixth—were within short range of the Mexican batteries. A tremendous volley from the tÊte de pont in front and the convent on the flank then forced them to await the arrival of the rest of the division. This was the fire which Twiggs heard when he sent Dimmick against the convent.

Worth came up almost immediately; and, directing the Sixth to advance as best they could along the causeway in the teeth of the tÊte de pont, despatched Garland and Clarke’s brigades through the fields on the right to attack it in flank. Every gun was instantly directed against the assailants; and, though the day was bright and clear, the clouds of smoke actually darkened the air. Hoffman, waving his sword, cheered on the Sixth; but the shot tore and ripped up their ranks to such a degree that in a few minutes they had lost ninety-seven men. The brigades on the right suffered as severely. One hundred men fell within the space of an acre. Still they pressed on, till the Eighth (of Clarke’s brigade) reached the ditch. In they plunged, Lieutenant Longstreet bearing the colors in advance—scrambled out on the other side—dashed at the walls, without ladders or scaling implements—bayoneted the defenders as they took aim. At last officers and men, mixed pell-mell, some through the embrasures, some over the walls, rushed or leaped in and drove the garrison helter-skelter upon their reserves.

The tÊte de pont gained, its guns were turned on the convent, whence the Mexicans were still slaughtering our gallant Second and Third. Duncan’s battery, too, hitherto in reserve, was brought up, and opened with such rapidity that a bystander estimated the intervals between the reports at three seconds. Stunned by this novel attack, the garrison of San Pablo slackened fire. In an instant the Third, followed by Dimmick’s artillery, dashed forward with the bayonet to storm the nearest bastion. With a run they carried it, the artillery bursting over the curtain; but at that moment a dozen white flags waved in their faces. The whole fortified position of Churubusco was taken.

Meantime, however, a conflict as deadly as either of these was raging behind the Mexican fortifications. Soon after the battle commenced, Scott sent Pierce and Shields’ brigades by the left, through the fields, to attack the enemy in the rear. On the causeway, opposed to them, were planted Santa Anna’s reserves—four thousand foot and three thousand horse—in a measure protected by a dense growth of maguey. Shields advanced intrepidly with his force of sixteen hundred. The ground was marshy, and for a long distance—having vainly endeavored to outflank the enemy—his advance was exposed to their whole fire. Morgan, of the Fifteenth, fell wounded. The New York regiment suffered fearfully, and their leader, Colonel Burnett, was disabled. The Palmettos, of South Carolina, and the Ninth, under Ransom, were as severely cut up; and after a while all sought shelter in and about a large barn near the causeway. Shields, in an agony at the failure of his movement, cried imploringly for volunteers to follow him. The appeal was instantly answered by Colonel Butler, of the Palmettos: “Every South-Carolinian will follow you to the death!” The cry was contagious, and most of the New-Yorkers took it up. Forming at angles to the causeway, Shields led these brave men, under an incessant hail of shot, against the village of Portales, where the Mexican reserves were posted. Not a trigger was pulled till they stood at a hundred and fifty yards from the enemy. Then the little band poured in their volley, fatally answered by the Mexican host. Butler, already wounded, was shot through the head, and died instantly. Calling to the Palmettos to avenge his death, Shields gives the word to charge. They charge—not four hundred in all—over the plain, down upon four thousand Mexicans, securely posted under cover. At every step their ranks thinned. Dickenson, who succeeded Butler in command of the Palmettos, seizes the colors as the bearer falls dead; the next moment he is down himself, mortally wounded, and Major Gladden snatches them from his hand. Adams, Moragne, and nearly half the gallant band are prostrate. A very few minutes more, and there will be no one left to bear the glorious flag.

But at this very moment a deafening roar was heard in the direction of the tÊte de pont. Round-shot and grape, rifle-balls and canister came crashing down the causeway into the Mexican ranks from their own battery. Worth was there just in time. Down the road and over the ditch, through the field and hedge and swamp, in tumult and panic, the Mexicans fled from the bayonets of the Sixth and Garland’s brigade. A shout, louder than the cannon’s peal—Worth was on their heels, with his best men. Before Shields reached the causeway he was by his side, driving the Mexican horse into their infantry, and Ayres was galloping up with a captured Mexican gun. Captain Kearny, with a few dragoons, rode straight into the flying host, scattered them right and left, sabred all he could reach, and halted before the gate of Mexico. Not till then did he perceive that he was alone with his little party, nearly all of whom were wounded; but, in spite of the hundreds of escopetas that were levelled at him, he galloped back in safety to headquarters.

The sun, which rose that morning on a proud army and a defiant metropolis, set at even on a shattered, haggard band and a city full of woe-stricken wretches who did nothing all night but quake with terror and cry at every noise, “Aqui viene los Yanquies!” All along the causeway, and in the fields and swamp on either side, heaps of dead men and cattle, intermingled with broken ammunition-carts, marked where the American shot had told. A gory track leading to the tÊte de pont, groups of dead in the fields on the west of Churubusco, over whose pale faces some stalks of tattered corn still waved, red blotches in the marsh next the causeway, where the rich blood of Carolina and New York soaked the earth, showed where the fire of the heavy Mexican guns and the countless escopetas of the infantry had been most murderous. Scott had lost, in that day’s work, over one thousand men in killed and wounded, seventy-nine of whom were officers. The Mexican loss, according to Santa Anna, was one-third of his army, equal probably to ten thousand men, one-fourth of whom were prisoners, the rest killed and wounded. As the sun went down the troops were recalled to headquarters; but all night long the battle-field swarmed with straggling parties, seeking some lost comrade in the cold and rain, and surgeons hurrying from place to place and offering succor to the wounded.

It would have been easy for Scott to have marched on the city that night, or next morning, and seized it before the Mexicans recovered the shock of their defeat. Anxious, however, to shorten the war, and assured that Santa Anna was desirous of negotiating; warned, moreover, by neutrals and others that the hostile occupation of the capital would destroy the last chance of peaceable accommodation and rouse the Mexican spirit to resistance all over the country, the American general consented, too generously perhaps, to offer an armistice to his vanquished foe. It was eagerly accepted, and negotiations were commenced which lasted over a fortnight. Early in September the treachery of the Mexicans became apparent. No progress had been made in the negotiations; and, in defiance of the armistice, an American wagon, proceeding to the city for provisions, had been attacked by the mob and one man killed and others wounded. Scott wrote to Santa Anna, demanding an apology, and threatening to terminate the armistice on the 7th if it were not tendered. The reply was insulting in the extreme; Santa Anna had repaired his losses and was ready for another fight.

MOLINO DEL REY

On the evening of the 7th of September Worth and his officers were gathered in his quarters at Tacubaya. On a table lay a hastily sketched map showing the position of the fortified works at Molino del Rey, with the Casa Mata on one side and the castle of Chapultepec on the other. The Molino was occupied by the enemy; there was reason to believe it contained a foundry in full operation, and Worth had been directed to storm it next morning. Over that table bent Garland and Clarke, eager to repeat the glorious deeds of August 20th at the tÊte de pont of Churubusco; Duncan and Smith, already veterans; Wright, the leader of the forlorn-hope, joyfully thinking of the morrow; famous Martin Scott and dauntless Graham, little dreaming that a few hours would see their livid corpses stretched upon the plain; fierce old McIntosh, covered with scars; Worth himself, his manly brow clouded and his cheek paled by sickness and anxiety. Each officer had his place assigned to him in the conflict; and they parted to seek a few hours’ rest. At half-past two in the morning of the 8th the division was astir. ’Twas a bright, starlight night, whose silence was unbroken as the troops moved thoughtfully toward the battle-field. In front, on the right, about a mile from the encampment, the hewn-stone walls of the Molino del Rey—a range of buildings five hundred yards long and well adapted for defence—were distinctly visible, with drowsy lights twinkling through the windows. A little farther off, on the left, stood the black pile of the Casa Mata, the arsenal, crenelled for musketry and surrounded by a quadrangular field-work. Beyond the Casa Mata lay a ravine, and from this a ditch and hedge ran, passing in front of both works to the Tacubaya road. Far on the right the grim old castle of Chapultepec loomed up darkly against the sky. Sleep wrapped the whole Mexican line, and but few words were spoken in the American ranks as the troops took up their respective positions—Garland, with Dunn’s battery and Huger’s twenty-four-pounders, on the right, against the Molino; Wright, at the head of the stormers, and followed by the light division, under Captain Kirby Smith, in the centre; McIntosh, with Duncan’s battery, on the left, near the ravine, looking toward the Casa Mata; and Cadwallader, with his brigade, in reserve.

Night still overhung the east when the Mexicans were roused from their slumbers by the roar of Huger’s twenty-four-pounders and the crashing of the balls through the roof and walls of the Molino. A shout arose within their lines, spreading from the ravine to the castle; lights flashed in every direction, bugles sounded, the clank of arms rang from right to left, and every man girded himself for the fray. With the first ray of daylight Major Wright advanced with the forlorn-hope down the slope. A few seconds elapsed; then a sheet of flame burst from the batteries, and round-shot, canister, and grape hurtled through the air. “Charge!” shouted the leader, and down they went, with double-quick step, over the ditch and hedge and into the line, sweeping everything before them. The Mexicans fell from their guns, but soon, seeing the smallness of the force opposed to them, and reassured by the galling fire poured from the azoteas and Molino on the stormers, they rallied, charged furiously, and drove our men back into the plain. Here eleven out of the fourteen officers of Wright’s party and the bulk of his men fell killed or wounded. All of the latter who could not fly were bayoneted where they lay by the Mexicans. Captain Walker, of the Sixth, badly shot, was left for dead; he saw the enemy murdering every man who showed signs of life, but the agony of thirst was so insupportable that he could not resist raising his canteen to his lips. A dozen balls instantly tore up the ground around him; several Mexicans rushed at him with the bayonet, but at that moment the light division under Kirby Smith came charging over the ditch into the Mexican line and diverted their attention.

Garland, meanwhile, moved down rapidly on the right with Dunn’s guns, which were drawn by hand, all the horses having been wounded and become unmanageable. These soon opened an enfilading fire on the Mexican battery; and, some of the gunners flying, the light division charged, under a hot fire, and carried the guns for a second time. Their gallant leader was shot dead in the charge. But the enemy could afford to lose the battery. From the tops of the azoteas, from the Casa Mata, and the Molino, a deadly shower of balls was rained crosswise upon the assailants. Part of the reserve was brought up, and Dunn’s guns and the Mexican battery were served upon the buildings without much effect at first. Lieutenant-Colonel Graham led a party of the Eleventh against the latter; when within pistol-shot a terrific volley assailed him, wounding him in ten places. The gallant soldier quietly dismounted, pointed with his sword to the building, cried “Charge!” and sank dead on the field.

There was an equally fierce fight at the other wing, where Duncan and McIntosh had driven in the enemy’s right toward the Casa Mata. McIntosh started to storm that fort; and, in the teeth of a tremendous hail of musketry, advanced to the ditch, only twenty-five yards from the work. There a ball knocked him down; it was his luck to be shot or bayoneted in every battle. Martin Scott took the command, but as he ordered the men forward he rolled lifeless into the ditch. Major Waite, the next in rank, had hardly seen him fall before he too was disabled. By whole companies the men were mowed down by the Mexican shot; but they stood their ground. At length some one gave the word to fall back, and the remnants of the brigade obeyed. Many wounded were left on the ground; among others Lieutenant Burnell shot in the leg, whom the Mexicans murdered when his comrades abandoned him. After the battle his body was found, and beside it his dog, moaning piteously and licking his dead master’s face.

At the head of four thousand cavalry, Alvarez now menaced our left. Duncan watched them come, driving a cloud of dust before them, till they were within close range; then, opening with his wonderful rapidity, he shattered whole platoons at a discharge. Worth sent him word to be sure to keep the lancers in check. “Tell General Worth,” was his reply, “to make himself perfectly easy; I can whip twenty thousand of them.” So far as Alvarez was concerned, he kept his word.

On the American right the fight had reached a crisis. Mixed confusedly together, men of all arms furiously attacked the Molino, firing into every aperture, climbing to the roof, and striving to batter in the doors and gates with their muskets. The garrison never slackened their terrible fire for an instant. At length, Major Buchanan, of the Fourth, succeeded in bursting open the southern gate, and almost at the same moment Anderson and Ayres, of the artillery, forced their way into the buildings at the northwestern angle. Ayres leaped down alone into a crowd of Mexicans—he had done the same at Monterey—and fell covered with wounds. In our men rushed on both sides, stabbing, firing, and felling the Mexicans with their muskets. From room to room and house to house a hand-to-hand encounter was kept up. Here a stalwart Mexican hurled down man after man as they advanced; there Buchanan and the Fourth levelled all before them. But the Mexicans never withstood the cold steel. One by one the defenders escaped by the rear toward Chapultepec, and those who remained hung out a white flag. Under Duncan’s fire the Casa Mata had been evacuated, and the enemy was everywhere in full retreat. Twice he rallied and charged the Molino; but each time the artillery drove him back toward Chapultepec, and parties of the light infantry pursued him down the road. Before ten in the morning the whole field was won; and, having blown up the Casa Mata, Worth, by Scott’s order, fell back to Tacubaya.

With gloomy face and averted eye the gallant soldier received the thanks of his chief for the exploits of the morning. His heart was with the brave men he had lost: near eight hundred out of less than thirty-five hundred, and among them fifty-eight officers, many of whom were his dearest friends. All had fallen in advance of their men, with sword in hand and noble words on their lips. They had helped to storm Molino del Rey, and to cut down near a fifth of Santa Anna’s fourteen thousand men. Sadly the general returned to his quarters.

The end was now close at hand. Reconnaissances were carefully made, and, the enemy’s strength being gathered on the southern front of the city. General Scott determined to assault Chapultepec on the west. By the morning of the 12th the batteries were completed, and opened a brisk fire on the castle, without, however, doing any more serious damage than annoying the garrison and killing a few men. The fire was kept up all day; and at night preparations were made for the assault, which was ordered to be made next morning.

CHAPULTEPEC

At daybreak on the 13th the cannonade recommenced, as well from the batteries planted against Chapultepec as from Steptoe’s guns, which were served against the southern defences of the city in order to divert the attention of the enemy. At 8 A.M. the firing from the former ceased and the attack commenced. Quitman advanced along the Tacubaya road, Pillow from the Molino del Rey, which he had occupied on the evening before. Between the Molino and the castle lay first an open space, then a grove thickly planted with trees; in the latter Mexican sharpshooters had been posted, protected by an intrenchment on the border of the grove. Pillow sent Lieutenant-Colonel Johnstone with a party of voltigeurs to turn this work by a flank movement; it was handsomely accomplished, and, just as the voltigeurs broke through the redan, Pillow, with the main body, charged it in front and drove back the Mexicans. The grove gained, Pillow pressed forward to the foot of the rock; for the Mexican shot from the castle batteries, crashing through the trees, seemed even more terrible than it really was, and the troops were becoming restless. The Mexicans had retreated to a redoubt half-way up the hill; the voltigeurs sprang up from rock to rock, firing as they advanced, and followed by Hooker, Chase, and others, with parties of infantry. In a very few minutes the redoubt was gained, the garrison driven up the hill, and the voltigeurs, Ninth, and Fifteenth in hot pursuit after them. Here the firing from the castle was very severe. Colonel Ransom, of the Ninth, was killed, and Pillow himself was wounded.

Still the troops pressed on till the crest of the hill was gained. There some moments were lost, owing to the delay in the arrival of scaling-ladders, during which two of Quitman’s regiments and Clarke’s brigade reinforced the storming party. When the ladders came, numbers of men rushed forward with them, leaped into the ditch, and planted them for the assault. Lieutenant Selden was the first man to mount. But the Mexicans collected all their energies for this last moment. A tremendous fire dashed the foremost of the stormers in the ditch, killing Lieutenants Rogers and Smith, and clearing the ladders. Fresh men instantly manned them, and, after a brief struggle, Captain Howard, of the voltigeurs, gained a foothold on the parapet. McKenzie, of the forlorn-hope, followed; and a crowd of voltigeurs and infantry, shouting and cheering, pressed after him and swept down upon the garrison with the bayonet. Almost at the same moment Johnstone, of the voltigeurs, who had led a small party round to the gate of the castle, broke it open and effected an entrance in spite of a fierce fire from the southern walls. The two parties uniting, a deadly conflict ensued within the building. Maddened by the recollection of the murder of their wounded comrades at Molino del Rey, the stormers at first showed no quarter. On every side the Mexicans were stabbed or shot down without mercy. Many flung themselves over the parapet and down the hillside, and were dashed in pieces against the rocks. More fought like fiends, expending their last breath in a malediction and expiring in the act of aiming a treacherous blow as they lay on the ground. Streams of blood flowed through the doors of the college, and every room and passage was the theatre of some deadly struggle. At length the officers succeeded in putting an end to the carnage, and, the remaining Mexicans having surrendered, the stars and stripes were hoisted over the castle of Chapultepec by Major Seymour.

Meanwhile Quitman had stormed the batteries on the causeway to the east of the castle, after a desperate struggle, in which Major Twiggs, who commanded the stormers, was shot dead at the head of his men. The Mexicans fell back toward the city. General Scott, coming up at this moment, ordered a simultaneous advance to be made on the city along the two roads leading from Chapultepec to the gates of San Cosme and Belen respectively. Worth was to command that on San Cosme, Quitman that on Belen. Both were prepared for defence by barricades, behind which the enemy were posted in great numbers. Fortunately for the assailants, an aqueduct, supported on arches of solid masonry, ran along the centre of each causeway. By keeping under cover of these arches and springing rapidly from one to another, Smith’s rifles and the South Carolina regiment were enabled to advance close to the first barricade on the Belen road and pour in a destructive fire on the gunners. A flank discharge from Duncan’s guns completed the work; the barricade was carried; and, without a moment’s rest, Quitman advanced in the same manner on the garita of San Belen, which was held by General Torres with a strong garrison. It, too, was stormed, though under a fearful hail of grape and canister; and the rifles moved forward toward the citadel. But at this moment Santa Anna rode furiously down to the point of attack. Boiling with rage at the success of the invaders, he smote General Torres in the face, threw a host of infantry into the houses commanding the garita and the road, ordered the batteries in the citadel to open fire, planted fresh guns on the Paseo, and infused such spirit into the Mexicans that Quitman’s advance was stopped at once. A terrific storm of shot, shells, and grape assailed the garita, where Captain Dunn had planted an eight-pounder. Twice the gunners were shot down, and fresh men sent to take their places. Then Dunn himself fell, and immediately afterward Lieutenant Benjamin and his first sergeant met the same fate. The riflemen in the arches repelled sallies, but Quitman’s position was precarious till night terminated the conflict.

Worth, meanwhile, had advanced in like manner along the San Cosme causeway, driving the Mexicans from barricade to barricade till within two hundred and fifty yards of the garita of San Cosme. There he encountered as severe a fire as that which stopped Quitman. But Scott had ordered him to take the garita, and take it he would. Throwing Garland’s brigade out to the right and Clarke’s to the left, he ordered them to break into the houses, burst through the walls, and bore their way to the flanks of the garita. The plan had succeeded perfectly at Monterey; nor did it fail here. Slowly but surely the sappers passed from house to house, until at sunset they reached the point desired. Then Worth ordered the attack. Lieutenant Hunt brought up a light gun at a gallop and fired it through the embrasure of the enemy’s battery, almost muzzle to muzzle; the infantry at the same moment opened a most deadly and unexpected fire from the roofs of the houses, and McKenzie, at the head of the stormers, dashed at the battery and carried it almost without loss. The Mexicans fled precipitately into the city.

At one that night two parties left the citadel and issued forth from the city. One was the remnant of the Mexican army, which slunk silently and noiselessly through the northern gate, and fled to Guadalupe-Hidalgo; the other was a body of officers who came under a white flag to propose terms of capitulation.

THE OCCUPATION OF THE CITY OF MEXICO

The sun shone brightly on the morning of September 14th. Scores of neutral flags floated from the windows on the Calle de Plateros, and in their shade beautiful women gazed curiously on the scene beneath. Gayly dressed groups thronged the balconies, and at the street-corners were scowling, dark-faced men. The street resounded with the heavy tramp of infantry, the rattle of gun-carriages, and the clatter of horses’ hoofs. “Los Yanquies!” was the cry, and every neck was stretched to obtain a glimpse of the six thousand bemired and begrimed soldiers who were marching proudly to the Gran Plaza. But six months before, Winfield Scott had landed on the Mexican coast; since then he had stormed the two strongest places in the country, won four battles in the field against armies double, treble, and quadruple his own, and marched without reverse from Vera Cruz to the city of Mexico; losing fewer men, making fewer mistakes, and creating less devastation, in proportion to his victories, than any invading general of former times.

SYNOPSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS, CHIEFLY
MILITARY, BETWEEN THE CONQUEST OF
MEXICO, 1847, AND THE BOMBARDMENT
OF FORT SUMTER, 1861

1848. Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo between the United States and Mexico. Admission of Wisconsin into the Union. Congress passes an act for the organization of Oregon Territory. Migration of the Mormons to Great Salt Lake. Zachary Taylor elected President. Formation of the Free-Soil party. Discovery of gold in California.

1850. The United States and Great Britain conclude the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty regarding a water route across Central America. On the death of Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore succeeds to the Presidency. New Mexico and Utah are organized as territories, and the “Clay Compromise,” providing for the admission of California as a free state, is adopted. Slavery in the District of Columbia is abolished.

1851. Unsuccessful filibustering expedition, under Lopez, against Cuba. Arrival of Louis Kossuth in the United States.

1852. Franklin Pierce elected President.

1853. Organization of Washington Territory. The Kane Arctic expedition in search of Sir John Franklin.

1854. Repeal of the Missouri Compromise, limiting slave territory in the United States, and passage of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, making slavery optional in the new territories. The “Ostend Manifesto” recommends the purchase of Cuba by the United States. Passage of the commercial reciprocity treaty between the United States and Canada (abrogated in 1866). Commodore Perry concludes a treaty with Japan.

1855. A Pro-Slavery legislature organizes in Kansas. A Free-State convention draws up the Topeka Constitution. William Walker, with a force of filibusters, invades Nicaragua. Opening of the railway across the Isthmus of Panama.

1856. Civil war in Kansas. James Buchanan elected President.

1857. Victory of the Free-State party at the polls in Kansas. A Pro-Slavery convention draws up the Lecompton Constitution. Dred Scott decision. Mormon rebellion in Utah. Financial panic in the United States and Europe.

1858. Admission of Minnesota into the Union. Kansas rejects the Lecompton Constitution. Senator Douglas debates. Partial establishment of transatlantic telegraphic communication.

1859. Admission of Oregon into the Union. John Brown’s raid into West Virginia. His capture, trial, and execution. Petroleum discovered in the United States. San Juan islands occupied by General Harney.

1860. Abraham Lincoln elected President. Secession of South Carolina. Kansas prohibits slavery within its boundaries. Lewis Cass, Secretary of State, resigns because President Buchanan refused to reinforce Major Anderson at Fort Moultrie, S.C.

1861. Secession of Mississippi, January 9th, followed by Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Texas, and Louisiana. Admission of Kansas into the Union. Jefferson Davis elected president of the Confederate States of America on February 7th. Bombardment of Fort Sumter.