Part 7

Such a night as I spent at the hacienda, God grant that I may never spend again! What piles of wounded and dying that lay groaning around! After wandering about among the wagons which were formed into a hollow square, I came across one of my messmates. Warmly grasping each other’s hands, we mutually inquired for our comrades. Then came the mournful tidings of the death of Francis Baily, Warren Robinson, and Charles Goff, three of my warmest friends, and brightest ornaments of our company. What a shock was this!--two of our beloved messmates, by whom, side by side, we had laid together for so many long months on the soldier’s couch, and with whom we had so often joked, while around our simple meals! But no more shall we mingle together in such uninterrupted harmony! I sought among the wagons for my blanket, but it was not there. I desired no food, notwithstanding I had eaten but a few pieces of hard crackers since the morning before. I was now becoming conscious of my excessive weariness. Loss of sleep, violent exertion, and the rain, which drenched us several times during the day, caused my bones to ache in every joint. Weary and faint, I resorted to the roof of one of the houses, hoping to get a little rest, but in this I was disappointed. I had scarcely begun to occupy a portion of a blanket kindly offered me by one of my friends, when we were alarmed by an unexpected charge from the lancers. Great were the excitement and hurry on the house tops. Soon every one was ready and waiting for the onset. Thus the night was spent in continual alarms, anxiety and suspense. We were ordered to lie upon our arms, and five times during the night were we aroused for the expected assault from the lancers, whose watch fires gleamed ominously from the mountains around. The sun had hardly arisen upon the bloody field, when I gladly arose to seek a fire, as my limbs were benumbed with cold. While seated on a stone near a fire, I was brooding over my fate, and that of our little army.

Gloomy, indeed, were my thoughts when my eye caught an open letter lying upon the ground. Picking it up, I read carelessly until I started at beholding my own name. Soon I found that the letter was written from my beloved home, by one of my female friends to my departed associate, Charles Goff. Never did I before so fully appreciate the value of friends, or a quiet home, away from the tumult of war. “A---- says she loves her friends.” How did these sweet words sink into my heart, and what would I not have given to have realized their import! But what a contrast between my situation and that of my friends! The dead and the dying, with mangled and bloody features, staring at me, and a day of deadly strife before us! I felt that my own destiny would soon be sealed, and resolved to hold out to the last.

If ever permitted to return home and mingle with valued friends, and enjoy the blessings of peace, doubtless many of the horrors will be effaced from my memory. But never shall I forget the terrible night that I passed at the hacienda of Buena Vista.

Having partaken of some refreshment, many of us proceeded to the field to rejoin our regiment. While wiping out our muskets and renewing our flints by the way, we were passed by six men, bearing the body of a wounded companion. Looking over their shoulders, I recognized my old friend, Sergeant Combs, of the 3d Indiana regiment. The poor fellow had been shot in the leg, and had lain out in the field all night. In the morning his naked body was found amidst a plat of prickly pears, with his flesh penetrated by the long needles. He has since died.

Upon our arrival we heard of the retreat of the Mexican army, and parties were sent out in all directions for the killed and wounded. Another and myself obtained leave to seek for the body of Warren Robinson. The last account we had of him he was in a ravine, completely exhausted, and some one passing, remarked, “Warren, don’t stop here; you’ll surely be killed!” He answered, “I can’t help it; I can go no further; and if I never see you again, you will know where to find me.” This place was described to us, and we found him accordingly. He was pierced to the heart by a ball, and robbed of his shoes and stockings, and the contents of his pockets.

After gazing upon the placid countenance of young Warren, and reflecting on his blasted hopes of the future, we raised him up, and with assistance, bore his bleeding body to the summit of the ridge. Having secured a wagon, a party of us went in search of others belonging to our regiment. At length we found the horridly disfigured bodies of Apollos Stephens and Francis Baily. They were stripped of their clothing, and near the place where they had fallen in the morning. At first the icy coldness of their naked bodies sent a thrill of horror at every touch throughout my whole frame: but my firmness of nerve increased a little as we progressed in filling up the wagon with our fallen associates. How my blood chills when I reflect on those dead soldiers stiffened in frightful attitudes, that were heaped upon one another so promiscuously! On which side soever we turned our eyes, could be seen friends and foes terribly mangled, and lingering in torture. Many of the Mexicans would call out “Agua, agua!” and gulping it down, they would appear resigned to die. And thus the day was spent in wandering over the bloody field, and burying the dead. The dead of each regiment were laid together. Our boys were placed side by side--Robinson sharing the blanket of his college mate Capt. Kinder. After preserving a lock of each one’s hair, as a memento for their friends, we fixed a cross made with staves, with their names cut thereon, and raised over them a pile of stones. Then we fired three salutes, and with a heavy heart returned to our camp. But wherever we went, the dead appeared to follow us, and the most solemn silence reigned around. On one side lay fifty of our killed, all stripped; and everywhere could be seen the effect of the raging conflict. After a cheerless supper, we performed the last duties of humanity to our worthy messmate Charles Goff. It appears that during the retreat he received a lance wound in the left elbow, and repaired to a stream below the rancho to quench his thirst and bathe his wound when he was attacked by five lancers. Seeing him unarmed, they pursued him at full speed. After chasing him some distance, they overtook him, and Charles, finding it impossible to save himself, faced the foe and received the lance in the breast, before assistance could arrive, and died with an expression of calm resignation lingering upon his countenance. He was a good soldier, taking pride in the performance of all his duties. As a Christian he was invulnerable to the temptations of camp. The last conversation I had with him was just before we marched out to the battle. I inquired if he had expressed to any one his wishes in case he should fall. He replied “No!” with great seriousness. “Hadn’t you better?” said I. “Yes, and now is the time,” he answered. “I wish you to collect my papers and things, and take them home to my friends; you know who I mean.” I asked if he just meant those things that might be preserved as mementos. Here we were called to attention, and he replied by nodding his head. Then I heard his rallying voice after the retreat, which was the last I saw of him until he was cold in death. O how deeply do we feel his loss! Few, indeed, were like him! We buried him by moonlight on a grassy ridge near the spot where he fell. Several officers of the brigade and regiment were present.

The next day our scouts brought word that Santa Anna was still at Agua Nueva, and perhaps would renew the combat. We were ordered to strike our tents and repair again to the battle-field, where we remained suffering almost every inconvenience. In my mess there was not a single blanket, and many of us had lost our knap-sacks with our clothing. So we were forced to sleep upon a stony mattress with our tents as coverlids. Even such rest as these could afford was uncertain. Our dreams were feverish with anxiety, and every hour we expected the long roll, and our arms were continually near us. The long roll! oh how terrible the sound! fraught with danger and death! The soldier alone can appreciate its import! A night or two before, we heard its sounds with all its horrors.

Others with myself were conversing over a few coals when General Lane came up, and ordered Colonel Bowles to have the long roll beaten as an express had just arrived, stating that our picket guard had been fired upon. This was a fine opportunity to witness its startling effect, and waking up my mess we looked down the ravine, where so many were reposing their weary bones. The moon looked down upon us in all her silvery brightness, save in the gloomy shadow of mighty rocks, which were piled up stratum upon stratum. Death-like stillness pervaded the scene, but it was like the silence that preludes the mighty crash of the avalanche; for now the rolling of a hundred drums spreads from line to line. In an instant the white coverings are flying in the air, and the whole army starting to their feet with every variety of expression visible upon their excited countenances.

After shivering in the cold for an hour, we were permitted to lie down again upon our arms. Thus the time was spent in continual alarms and rumors of assault, which was worse than a dozen battles. We were all anxious to meet the enemy again, to be revenged for their cruelty to our wounded brethren, and felt that we could fight more effectually, as we were hardened into indifference by the past, in beholding our falling comrades. And further, we had a reinforcement of General Marshall with three eighteen pounders. At length intelligence came that the Mexican army had taken up their line of march to San Luis Potosi; when we were ordered immediately to make preparations for our old encampment.

It was a melancholy march, as the road all the way for sixteen miles was strewed with the Mexican dead. On a single spot I counted thirteen bodies; and at times the scent from the field was almost insupportable. After an exciting march, we pitched our tents near the spot which we left a week before; and part of the time since the enemy had occupied, whose fires were not extinct on our return.

_March 14th._--We received orders last Wednesday to remove back to Buena Vista, as the water was so bad, and the wind and dust so disagreeable, that even our horses were affected, causing them to die off in great numbers. I was on guard the day before, and was not relieved till the next evening. To remain a whole day in the hot sun without shelter, and remain up all night in the cold wind, is a poor preparation for a hard march. The guard went in advance, and upon our arrival, were posted around the camp, which is situated on a ridge, sloping from the mountain. There we remained until the tents were pitched, and a new guard mounted.

We have not yet forgotten the battle. Low spirits, gloom and regret are everywhere manifest. There are but few who have not to mourn the loss of friends and relations. Our wounded are all doing well, save Granville Jackson, the inflammation of whose hand has brought on a severe fever; and Alfred Goodwin, who, though badly wounded, may eventually be able to walk.

Much controversy is going with regard to the retreat of the 2d regiment; but as it can easily be proved that Colonel Bowles gave the order, the matter will soon be favorably understood. But the subject gives us great trouble. If our reputation must suffer, it is, indeed, very discouraging.

General Taylor, the adored of the army and the hero of many battles, has removed with Colonel May’s squadron of dragoons, Bragg’s battery of light artillery, and the Mississippi regiment, to Walnut Springs, near Monterey. We are still under the command of General Wool, who, although a brave and prudent officer, and a good soldier, falls below “Old Rough” in gaining the affection of the men.

There are many things I should like to speak of, especially incidents and personalities connected with the battle, but am now too low spirited to relate them. We are so inconveniently situated, the wind and dust so disagreeable, and at times so concerned for our reputation, that often I become almost hopeless, and hardly care what becomes of me. The Indiana troops have truly been unfortunate, the 2d regiment especially. From our first entering the service, we were organized in a way contrary to our wishes, and officers selected for us, wholly unqualified for their stations, and even below mediocrity in point of talent, which rendered them unable to draw the attention of commanding officers to their regiment. Thus the greater portion of our time was spent in obscurity, wading the lagoons of Belknap--since which time we are nothing indebted to our regimental officers for our preferments. General Lane has made the 2d regiment what it is, and does honor to the position which he occupies. But I will cease this strain, as I promised to complain as little as possible.

_April 1st._--We are now comfortably situated, and have less cause of complaint than at any other time during the service. There are two tents pitched together for our mess of eight, who live together in the greatest harmony. Our floor is carpeted with grass, and we have blankets and provisions in abundance. But still we look with much solicitude to the time when we shall meet our beloved friends at home. What a blank is caused by the absence of some of the refinements of society, and to be so long absent from those we love, with but little to occupy their places!--I have learned much in the tented field; I have learned how few are the real wants of man; I have learned to abstain from luxuries and to suffer privation; I have learned how important is good female society for the refinement of manners and the elevation of morals.

All is quiet again, and the excitement attending the expectation of another attack, has died away. Until recently, the guard duty has been very heavy, and the troops in constant anxiety, caused by the rumors in circulation.--Yesterday the whole division passed in grand review before General Wool and staff. It was truly a splendid sight. Seven regiments of infantry, accurately dressed upon the same line; two squadrons of dragoons, and four batteries of flying artillery. The gaudy uniforms of the general and staff added to the imposing grandeur of the parade. The camp is generally in good health, and our wounded doing well. The loss of Goff and Robinson is a severe stroke to the mess. I assure you we miss them greatly, especially at night, when we see their vacant places upon the ground.

_May 15th._--During the last two weeks much excitement has prevailed with regard to the court of investigation, concerning the conduct of Brigadier-General Lane and Colonel Bowles. General Lane called for an examination on his own part, and was acquitted with the highest praise. Colonel Bowles, by request, followed his example, and the charge of incapacity for performing the duties of his office, and ignorance of company and battalion drill, were fully substantiated, as well as the word of giving the order--“Cease firing, and retreat!” This decision, approved by Generals Taylor and Wool, at once sets at rest all doubts as to the propriety of our retreat, and no blame can now be attached to the 2d regiment for that unfortunate event.

Yesterday evening we received the joyful orders to take up our line of march for the mouth of the Rio Grande, to start on the 24th. The 2d Kentuckians started yesterday; the Ohioans will leave on the 18th; and the Illinoisians on the 30th.--We have just received a request from the citizens of New Albany to bring home the four bodies of our fallen comrades. We had already canvassed the matter, and given it up as impossible; but now it must be done, and preparations are being made for their transportation. General Lane, with his characteristic nobleness of heart, lends a helping hand. The Mexicans are inferior mechanics, and material is scarce; and we shall have to use tin instead of lead for coffins, as the latter is not to be had.

The decision of the Court of Inquiry encouraged and animated us all; and the effect was quite obvious throughout the whole camp. Last night a number of us were convened around the fire, and were all recalling incidents connected with the battle. Many amusing anecdotes were related, two of which I shall record, as examples of great coolness in the heat of battle.

During the engagement of the rifle battalion on the mountain, a deer sprang up in the ravine, between the two fires; a backwoodsman observing it, cried out, “Look at that deer!” at the same time diverting his aim from the enemy in front, instantly fired, and brought the animal to the ground. Another happened under my own observation. When Captain Sanderson fell, badly shocked by a grape shot striking his scabbard, a man just before him, who was squatted down examining his flint, seeing the ball fall near, picked it up, and turning to the captain, who was gasping for breath, threw it towards him, carelessly remarking, “There it is, Cap.!”

A ludicrous story was told of a party composed of different regiments, in an eating-house of Saltillo, after the battle. They were drinking, and relating their wonderful exploits. One in particular was eloquent upon the daring bravery of his captain. At this crisis, a fellow who had been unnoticed before in their merriment, advanced from his corner, and enthusiastically insisted that the captain spoken of was a brave man, for he saw him charge unarmed upon a presented pistol. The stranger was invited to drink, then urged to relate the circumstance, and, after smacking his lips with great satisfaction, he commenced. “During the fight I retreated to town, and hid in an old bake oven that stood on the hill, as you enter the city. Well, I hadn’t been there long, before I spied your captain making for it at full speed. I drew my revolver, and when he came, cried out to him, ‘Don’t you come here, or I’ll blow your brains out!’ _But he rushed right in._”

An amusing incident came off the other day, at the mounting of the guard. A lieutenant, rather too fond of the “Critter,” with a seedy suit that had evidently not been worn out with brushing, was rejected, and charged by our worthy inspector-general not to present himself there again. So the next day _another_ was detailed, not much better attired. When the inspector perceived him, he rode up, and severely remarked, “Didn’t I tell you not to come back here?” He respectfully rejoined: “A slight mistake, colonel, there is one grease spot less on this hat!”

“_Camp near Reynosa, June 4th._

“According to general orders, we broke up our encampment at Buena Vista on the 24th of May, and after a march of ten successive days, over three hundred miles, we arrived at this place. From this we will take steamboats to the mouth of the Rio Grande, thence by vessels to New Orleans, where we will be discharged, and permitted to return to the endearments of home. It rained during our last day’s march, and has continued to do so ever since, at intervals.

“Yesterday several of us visited Reynosa, but saw nothing interesting, with the exception of the funeral of a little girl five years of age. We were first attracted to the house by music from the drum, clarionet and violin. When we arrived, we found the child placed upright in the coffin, and tricked out with finery. On the head was a kind of a crown of gilt paper; in one hand the figure of a saint, and in the other a piece of black wax. After many of the family and friends had assembled, they formed a ring before the door, and commenced dancing and waltzing in the most unfeeling manner, until the corpse was conveyed to the church. They bear the death of children with great philosophy, deeming it no source of lamentation. The more extensive my acquaintance with this people, the greater my pride and satisfaction in being an American. The beauty and ingenuousness of their women, the mind and energy of their men, are so far below those of ours, that we cannot make a comparison. They plough their fields with a straight stick running slanting into the ground; never did I see them make a pound of butter, although they obtain vast quantities of milk; and they justify their laborious way of crushing corn by saying ‘it makes it much finer than mills.’”

On the 3d of July, we landed at New Albany, after an absence of a year. Multitudes of friends and acquaintances stood upon the shore to await our arrival. The cannon roared to welcome us, and a flowery arch spanned the street in all its beauty, to cheer us as we entered the city. On the fifth, we transported to the solemn grave, the remains of our fellow soldiers. Great was the concourse which followed in procession, to witness the mournful ceremony. A noble monument will mark the resting-place of those who fell in battle.

Reader, I will now come to a conclusion. This journal was written for my own reference and amusement, but I have made some verbal alterations for your accommodation. Had I more thoroughly revised the style and arrangement in my manuscript, doubtless fewer errors would have existed; but it may go forth with its imperfections, for I have neither time nor inclination to put on a higher polish.

Other companies than the _Greys_, and other regiments than the _Second_, could not expect a description of all their glorious deeds from one whose humble position limited his survey and sources of extensive information. If I have erred in statements, it was of the _head_, and not of the _heart_. With a clear conscience I have written what I have written. Brilliant actions, no doubt, were performed at Buena Vista that will never shine upon canvas, nor glow in the poet’s song, nor blaze upon the page of history.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes

Errors in punctuation have been fixed.

Page 15: “of the corse” changed to “of the corpse”

Page 32: “kind of opheclide” changed to “kind of ophicleide”

Page 40: “suddenly arroused” changed to “suddenly aroused”

Page 44: “Nothwithstanding the discouragement” changed to “Notwithstanding the discouragement”

Page 48: “a rout that did not pass” changed to “a route that did not pass”

Page 58: “the moun ains” changed to “the mountains”