CHAPTER XIV.THE DESPATCH-BEARER
There are hills to climb, on the crooked highway from the city of Mexico to the sea, but the greater part of the distance is down, down, down, for its highest point is over seven thousand feet above tidewater. It was in a pass leading over this ridge that Ned Crawford looked around him, up and down and ahead, and exclaimed, as well as his chattering teeth would let him:
“Well, I’m glad there are no snow-drifts in my way. I suppose the army men look out for that. But don’t I wish I had an overcoat and some furs! Old Mount Orizaba can get up a first-class winter on his own account.”
It looked like it, and this part of his experiences had not been at all provided for. The Cordillera was very white, and its garment of snow and ice went down nearer to its feet than when Ned had first seen it.Moreover, the pony which had travelled so well when he cantered away from the Paez mansion, some days before, was showing signs of exhaustion, and it was manifestly well for him that he was now going down instead of climbing. So it was for Ned, and his uppermost wish was to hurry down into a more summery climate. He was still doing so, to the best of his shivering ability, two hours later, when a loud summons to halt sounded in the road before him.
“Whoop!” shouted Ned, and the soldier, who had presented his bayonet so sternly, was greeted as if he had been an old friend. Rapid explanations followed, in Spanish, but before they were completed an officer had made his appearance from a small but comfortable guard-house at the side of the road. He was only a lieutenant, and he appeared to gaze with more than a little awe upon the superscription of Ned’s precious government envelope. He turned it over and over, and almost smelled of it.
“Señor Carfora!” he exclaimed. “This must not be delayed for a moment! You must ride on, if it kills you. Come in and get a dinner. We will give you a fresh mount. Tell us the news while you are eating.”
“I will do so,” replied Ned, with a tremendous effort to stop shivering and look important. “But I will say that I was told that any man interfering with that despatch would be shot in one hour.”
“Beyond a doubt!” declared the lieutenant, with emphasis. “It would serve him right, too. This is no time for trifling with orders.”
A hearty dinner by a blazing log fire made the despatch-bearer feel a great deal better, but at the end of it no mercy was shown him. His fresh pony was ready, and he was ordered to mount and ride. He did so without offering any objections, and he carried with him the lieutenant’s written pass, for possible use further down the mountain. It was a good thing to have, but he was called upon to present it only twice, receiving in each instance positive instructions to push onward if it killed him and his new pony.
“I can’t stand this much longer!” he exclaimed, as the sun was setting. “I’m almost beyond the snow-line. I think I’ll disobey the guards a little, but I’ll keep on obeying Señora Paez. She told me on no account to try to sleep in a large town or village. They are all military posts, and too many questions might be asked. I’lltry a hacienda, just as I did on the other side of the mountains. Everybody wants to hear the news.”
Everybody in that region was also genuinely hospitable, and it was barely dusk when Ned rode in at the gate of a substantial farmhouse, to be welcomed with the utmost cordiality. Men, women, and children crowded eagerly around him, to hear all he could tell them of the great battle and victory of Angostura, and of the current doings in the capital city. A warm bed was given him, and after a long sleep he awoke somewhat better fitted for whatever else might be before him. Once more he pushed on, but before noon of that day all signs of winter were far behind him. He had passed through more than one considerable village, but so had other travellers, coming or going, who bore about them no appearance of being worth the attention of the military authorities. Another and another night in wayside farmhouses compelled him to admire more than ever the simple ways and the sincere patriotism of the Mexican farmers. All the while, however, his anxieties concerning the result of his perilous errand were growing upon him, and he was obediently using up his army pony. It was the forenoon of thethird day before he was aroused from his other thoughts into anything like enthusiasm for the exceeding beauty of the luxuriant vegetation on either side of the road.
“Leaves! flowers! grass!” he exclaimed. “Oh, how beautiful they all are! Summer here, and winter only a few miles away. Hurrah for thetierra caliente! It’s a bully place at this time o’ year.”
At all events, it was a pleasanter place to be in than any icy pass among the Mexican sierras, and his thoughts were at liberty to come back to his present situation. He was not now upon the Cordoba road, by which he had left the gulf coast ever so long ago. This was the highway from the city of Jalapa. He was cantering along only a short distance from the seashore, and he was within a few miles of the gates of Vera Cruz.
“I remember them,” he was thinking. “I never had a good chance for a look at the walls, but I suppose I shall have one pretty soon. I wonder if they are thick enough to stop a cannon-ball. Captain Kemp told me they were built all around the city, but he didn’t say how high they are.”
Walls there were, indeed, but their masonry was not the next thing that was to beof especial interest to Ned. There is no kind of stonework which can compare, under certain circumstances, with the point of a lance or the edge of a machete, and the bearers of a number of such weapons were to be seen coming toward him at a gallop.
“It looks like a whole company of lancers!” exclaimed the anxious despatch-carrier. “Now I’m in for it! Everybody I met on the way was civil enough, but these may be a different kind of fellows.”
Whether they were or not, the whole force under General Morales was in a state of unusual excitement that day, for the report was going around that the American army brought by Commodore Connor’s fleet was rapidly coming ashore near Sacrificios Island, only three miles south of Vera Cruz. If Ned himself had been aware of it, he might have changed his plans and ridden right in among his own friends. As it was, however, in less than three minutes he had cantered in among a swarm of angry Mexicans and glittering spear-points. Their state of discipline was witnessed to by the fact that the captain in nominal command of them had some difficulty in obtaining from them permission to ask his own questions of this newcomer. When at last he succeeded in doing so, without first havinghis captive run through by a lance, it shortly looked as if Ned had been learning diplomacy, if not strategy also, during his varied and wonderful Mexican experiences.
“Señor Captain,” he said, quite coolly, pulling out his official envelope, “I am ordered to deliver this to General Morales in person. I am commanded to answer no questions. Any man daring to hinder the delivery of my despatches will be shot. They are important.”
“Where are you from?” came savagely back.
Ned only pointed at the envelope and shut his mouth hard.
“What is your errand to General Morales?”
Ned’s brain was working with tremendous rapidity just then, and one of his swift thoughts got away from him.
“Captain,” he said, “you had better ask that question of his Excellency, General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna.”
The officer’s swarthy face turned pale for a moment, and all the men who had heard Ned’s reply broke out into loud vivas for their great commander-in-chief, the illustrious victor of the bloody field of Angostura. The entire company became at once the zealous guardians of that sacred envelope,which so few of them could have read, and the captain was forced to restrain his curiosity, and allow Ned to continue, keeping his mouth closed. For all that, however, the despatch-bearer was still a prisoner, and was to be conducted as such to the presence of General Morales. The lancers turned their horses toward the city, and the gates were reached as quickly as Ned’s tired pony could carry him. At this barrier, of course, there were other guards and officers of higher rank, and there might have been further delay, or even danger, if Ned had not promptly exhibited the magical envelope, while the captain himself repeated his own words for him, and curtly added:
“His Excellency, General Bravo! Viva Morales! Viva Santa Anna!”
That last word sealed the matter. The envelope was returned to its bearer, and he was conducted onward under the care of two colonels, several other officials, and a half-dozen of watchful lancers.
Ned shortly understood that General Morales had returned from the Castle of San Juan de Ulua to go out for a telescopic inspection of the American landing, and was now at his headquarters in the city.
“I guess I shall feel better after I get to him,” thought Ned, as he and his excitedparty halted before the headquarters building. “I may get stuck with a machete yet, if I have to wait long out here.”
He was neither to be delayed nor slaughtered, and in a few minutes more he was ushered into a handsomely furnished chamber, where the general was sitting, apparently entirely calm and self-possessed, surrounded by his staff and a throng of other important men, soldiers and civilians. He did not say a word while a colonel of the escort was delivering his report concerning this messenger, but he was all the while sharply scrutinizing Ned from head to foot.
“Gentlemen,” he then said to those around him, “this may be something of extraordinary importance. Come with me, Carfora!”
He arose from his chair, and Ned silently followed him into another room. As soon as they were shut in here by themselves, he turned fiercely upon the young despatch-bearer and demanded:
“Have you said anything to those men? Have you told a living soul what you know about these tidings?”
“No, general, not one word to anybody,” replied Ned, bravely, but there was a strange thrill at his heart, for he saw that he was in deadly peril.
Morales tore open the envelope, and found in it several official-looking papers which it did not take him long to read; but now Ned took out from an inner pocket three others which were much smaller. The general’s face flushed fiery red, and his eyes were flashing with excitement while he swiftly examined them.
“Carfora,” he exclaimed, “you are too young to have been sent on such an errand as this. General Bravo! Colonel Tassara! Señora Paez! General Zuroaga! Ah, Santa Maria! And our brave army was shattered at Angostura, after all. This is dreadful news! You shall die before I will allow you to spread it among my men!”
“I shall not do so,” said Ned, with his heart in his throat “But may I not tell them that General Santa Anna has checked the invasion at the north? Ought I not to say that he is now marching down to defend the capital, and that he is going to strengthen your army at Vera Cruz? Why, general, that is just what he is going to do.”
The general was silent for a moment, and appeared to be lost in thought.
“No, not now!” he then whispered between his set teeth, but Ned heard him. “If I shot him, it would make enemies of Zuroaga and the Tassaras and Señora Paez.Bravo would not care. Carfora,” he added, aloud, “you may go. You may talk as you have said, but you must not leave the city, and, if you say one word about our being defeated at Buena Vista, I will have you shot. There are too many desertions already, and I can’t afford to have my whole army stampeded by bad news.”
There was, therefore, an imperative military reason for keeping secret the truth concerning Santa Anna’s great victory, and Ned responded:
“General Morales, everybody will be asking me questions. I guess I know exactly what you wish me to tell. I was ordered to keep my mouth shut.”
“See that you do!” growled the general. “Or a musket-ball will shut it for you. Go out now. If I want you, I shall be able to find you.”
They walked out of the inner room together, and they found the main office crowded, as if many more had hurried in to hear the expected news.
“Gentlemen! Fellow citizens!” shouted the general, enthusiastically, as he waved his packet of despatches over his head. “This is glorious! Our illustrious commander-in-chief, after having given such a severe lesson to our barbarous invadersat the north, is marching with his entire force to our own assistance. He will soon crush our assailants on the seacoast as he has the gringo mob under Taylor!”
A storm of cheers responded, and the entire crowd seemed disposed to exchange hugs and handshakes, while he turned to an officer at a table.
“By the Way, major,” he said, “write an order for quarters and rations for General Bravo’s messenger, Carfora. I may need him again in a few days. Keep track of him. He is a civilian, but he is a trusted agent of certain parties whom you may know.”
The major began to write something, and, as he did so, Ned believed that he heard him muttering words which sounded like: “Humph! Messenger of his Excellency, Santa Anna! We will take good care of him!”
Then the general carelessly signed the paper, which the major prepared for him, and Ned walked quietly out into the open air. Once there, however, he took a hasty look at his “order for rations,” and discovered that with it he had now in his possession a full headquarters army pass, which permitted him to come and go anywhere, through the gates and all the lines, withouthindrance from anybody. He was established as an accepted and even honored confidential despatch-bearer of the commander-in-chief of all the armies of Mexico. He was not now to get entirely away without difficulty, however, for the whole building had been full of men who were eager for all the news he could give them, and they had followed him. They seized upon him as if he had been the last edition of an evening newspaper, containing the reports of all the past and with, probably, the news for to-morrow morning also somewhere inside of him. He did not get away from them for some time, and when he did so, at last, he was sure of being recognized by a considerable number of patriotic Mexicans, if they ever should meet him again. That might make him safer, although he was no longer in any immediate danger. Moreover, although he was not in uniform, the cut and quality of his clothing informed every person he met that he belonged to the higher orders, while the machete at his side and the pistols in his belt appeared to indicate that he was in some way connected with the army.
“I know what I want to do next,” he was thinking. “My pony and my satchel are at the headquarters stables. I can get themwhenever I want them. I must go to the Tassara place. I can find it. Then I must manage to put them there, so that I won’t have to show myself at the headquarters unless I’m sent for.”
He had no difficulty in finding the Tassara homestead, and there was no observer anywhere near him when he stood in front of the dwelling which had been his first hospitable refuge in Mexico. It had now, of course, a lonely and shut-up look, and there was no getting in at the front door, for much knocking failed to bring a door-keeper. Giving that up, therefore, he made his way around to the rear, through the unoccupied stables.
“There is hay enough here for my pony,” he remarked, “but I had half expected that the house would be turned into quarters for troops.”
He may have overlooked the fact that the Tassaras were friends of General Morales, and that their house was under his protection. If it were supposed to be so, nevertheless, he had cause to forget it again when he came to the back door, for it stood wide open, with an appearance of having been unlocked with a hammer.
“Hullo!” he exclaimed. “I wonder if there is anybody in there now?”
The thought somehow made him draw his machete, and he went on into the house as if he were looking for a fight. The dining-room was entered first, and it was utterly empty. Not so much as a chair was left, although its owners had certainly not taken any furniture away with them in their hasty escape by night, with Ned and Zuroaga. It looked a little queer, to say the least, and, as he went on from room to room, he found precisely such a state of things everywhere else.
“I declare!” said Ned. “Either their friends or some robbers have cleaned this place of all there was in it that was worth stealing. Not so much as a bed left. I’ll go and take a look at my old room. It was a cubby-hole of a place, but it would do first-rate for me now.”
Perhaps it was so small and so out of the way that Ned had an agreeable surprise ready for him when he reached it, for there still hung his hammock, and nothing else in the room had been molested.
“Hurrah!” he shouted. “I’ve looked into every other room in the house, and this is the only one they didn’t finish. I guess I’ll camp here to-night, after I’ve been out to get something to eat.”
It was true that he had orders for armyrations, if he had known where to find them, but he was also able to purchase whatever he might need, and he preferred to do so. At the same time, he had a clear understanding that, if he expected to ever see the United States again, he had better not show a great deal of cash in the city of Vera Cruz just now.
“There are plenty of fellows here,” he remarked, “who would cut my throat for a silver dollar, let alone a gold piece.”
He sheathed his machete peaceably, and went out by the back door, determining to let as few people as possible suspect that the Tassara mansion contained a boarder,—or it was more nearly correct to say lodger. This was a wise decision to make, but he was not to hunt far for his supplies that evening. Hardly had he gone a hundred paces from the Tassara place before he was unceremoniously halted, and it was not by a lancer this time. Before him, blocking his way, stood a very fat and apparently much astonished woman.
“Madre de Dios!” she loudly exclaimed. “Señor Carfora! Santa Maria! Santa Catarina! San Jago! Diablos! Where did you come from?”
Ned had never before heard himself called by all those pet names, but he knewat a glance that this was no other than Anita, formerly the cook of Señora Tassara, and believed to be a devoted friend of the family.
“Anita!” he exclaimed. “I’ll tell you!” and he proceeded to do so, to her great gratification, for she was as hungry for news as he was for his rations.
“You come to my house,” she said, “and I will give you something fit to eat, and that is a good deal to say in Vera Cruz in these days. Santa Maria! How these ragged banditti do devour everything. We are to be devoured by the accursed gringos, too, and we must eat while we can.”
Her idea, as a good cook, appeared to be that, if several thousands of people were about to be shut up and starved to death, they ought all to feed themselves as liberally as possible before the actual process of starvation should begin. Ned felt a strong sympathy with that notion, as he walked along with her, and he was ready to tell her anything but the perilous truth concerning the lost battle at the north. As to that, it was quite enough to assure her and half a dozen other patriotic Mexican women, who were at her humble home when he went in, that the great and successful General Santa Anna was hastening to rescuethem from the American barbarians who were at this hour getting ashore with a great deal of difficulty through the surf, which was wetting every uniform among them. If anything at all resembling a “norther” had been blowing, the landing would necessarily have been postponed until it had blown over. Among other things, however, Ned told Anita of his visit to the house, and when the very good supper was ended, she led him to a room which must have contained at least a third of all the space under her roof. It was anything but hollow space now, for it was heaped to the ceiling with furniture, beds, bedding, and a miscellaneous collection of other household goods.
“There, Señor Carfora!” she said, exultingly. “The Puebla robbers did get some things, but we saved all these. They were not ready to carry off heavy stuff, and when they came again, with a cart, at night, it had all been cared for. The señora has not lost so much, after all.”
“You are a faithful woman!” said Ned, admiringly. “I’m glad, too, that they could not steal the house, for I want to sleep there.”
“It’s the best place you can find,” shetold him. “But you had better always bar the door at night, and sleep with your machete and pistols where you can reach them.”
CHAPTER XV.UNDER FIRE
“Where am I?” exclaimed Ned, as his eyes came lazily open the next morning, and in a moment more they were open very widely.
He knew the room he was in, and his thoughts came swiftly back to him. There hung his sheathed machete at the head of the hammock, and his pistols lay at his side. There was as yet only just enough light to see them by, but he sprang out and began to get ready for his first day in a besieged city. His satchel and pony, he remarked, would be safe enough at headquarters, and he could go after them whenever he might need them.
“I’ll go to Anita’s for breakfast,” he added. “I can pay her for it, too. Then I want to see the American fleet, if I can. Oh, but am I not glad that General Zuroaga gave me that old telescope? I’ve seen lots of mountains with it, and now I’ll makeit show me the ships and the army. Oh, my soul and body! I’m part of the garrison of Vera Cruz.”
That was stretching the facts of the case a little, but he certainly was serving under the wrong flag that morning. He felt queer and lonely in that empty, robber-haunted house, and he was glad to get out of it without being seen. Anita welcomed him enthusiastically, for he had brought to her and her neighbors the good news of the coming of Santa Anna’s victorious army, and he was a young Mexican patriot for whom she was glad to cook a good breakfast for a fair price. After that was eaten, however, Ned’s perplexities began, for the first Mexican officer whom he met, on leaving Anita’s house, curtly demanded a look at his papers. He was altogether too well dressed a fellow to be allowed to pass by unnoticed. With almost a fainting heart, Ned produced the pass given him by the major at headquarters, but the next moment the brave soldier’s arms were around him, and he was hugged as a true comrade who had ridden hard and far to bring good tidings.
“I will show you the gates myself!” exclaimed the lieutenant, for such he was. “I shall be in command of a patrol thatis going out toward Sacrificios for a look at the gringos. Come on with me.”
This was precisely what Ned was wishing for, and, as they hurried along, he was pumped for all the news he had and a good deal more. In fact, he found it a task of some difficulty to obey the stern commands of General Morales and still keep within the truth.
A gate was reached and passed, the officer at the gate receiving a kind of pay in news, and then Ned drew a long breath, for he suddenly remembered that he had left the city, contrary to orders.
“Never mind,” he said to himself, “I’m inside the Mexican army lines.”
In a moment more, he had forgotten everything but his spy-glass, a pretty good one, for he and the squad of patrollers were at the summit of a low sand-hill, and there before them, only two miles away, the boats of the ships of war and the transport ships were coming and going through the surf with loads of American soldiers. With them, and on all the vessels in the offing, Ned saw something which had never before seemed to shine so splendidly, and it brought the hot blood fiercely from his heart to his cheeks, because he could not just then break out into a hurrah for theStars and Stripes. The hurrah did get up into his throat, but there it had to stop, and it almost choked him. His prudence got the better of it, somehow, and his next thought was:
“Oh, but won’t they have a tough time getting their cannon ashore!”
He was not so far wrong, for that was a problem which was troubling General Scott and his engineers, but there was one thing more which Ned did not so much as dream of. In one of those boats a tall man, who was not in uniform, was leaning forward and gazing earnestly at the shore.
“Mexico!” he muttered. “Ned is in there somewhere. I must have a hunt for him as soon as I can. I wonder if I did right to ever let him go. Even after we take Vera Cruz, there will be a long campaign and any amount of hard fighting. O Ned, my son, where are you?”
Ned was there, indeed, very near and yet very far, and he was wondering, as were many American officers and soldiers, why the Mexicans did not cannonade the invading army while it was coming ashore. They might have done so effectively, and in a day or two they did put a few guns in position to send an occasional shot, but all the harm they did was to kill one man.
The patrol party had now performed its duty, and it marched back again, but in that morning adventure Ned had discovered that he was really free to come and go. Perhaps the Mexican commander had forgotten him in the pressure of his other affairs. Even when Ned went to the headquarters for his pony and baggage, he was treated by everybody as a young fellow of no importance whatever, and at dinnertime he was able to tell Anita all about the terrible ships and the swarms of invading gringos on the shore.
That night the lonely room in the Tassara house was almost too lonely. Ned lay awake in his hammock through long hours, and was glad that he had two armies to think of, so that he might keep from listening for possible footsteps outside of his little chamber, or for an attempt by some marauder to force open his door. He had barred that, and he had fastened his window firmly, but he could not feel entirely secure, and he got up twice to go to the door and listen.
Day after day went by from that time in very much the same manner, and Ned believed that he was learning a great deal about war, whether or not it would ever do him any good in business affairs after thewar had come to an end. The entire American army, guns and all, reached the shore in safety, and all the while Santa Anna and his army were reported as coming, coming, but they did not come, and the hearts of the besieged garrison and the terror-stricken people began to die within them.
“They will be too late now,” thought Ned, but he did not dare to say as much to any of his Mexican friends.
From time to time he had been out to ply his telescope upon the fleet and upon the army. He knew that all the American camps had been established beyond the reach of any guns in the city fortifications, and he had watched with intense interest the slow, sure processes of a regular siege, conducted by a rarely capable general. He had seen the erection of battery after battery, of which General Scott’s artillerymen were as yet making hardly any apparent use. He did not quite understand that, in merely being there, more and more of them, those batteries were already capturing the city. They were sending so few shots at the walls, or even at the grim Castle of San Juan de Ulua, because the American general wished to take Vera Cruz without bloodshed, if he could, and he came verynear to the accomplishment of his humane purpose. Undoubtedly, he would have succeeded in starving out the city, if he, too, had not received daily notice of the nearer approach of Santa Anna and all the forces which he could gather. Nobody but that general himself and his confidential officers knew how really few they were, or how unfit to assail the Americans in their fortified camps on the shore of the sea. So, a final day came when the surrender of Vera Cruz was formally demanded, under the awful penalty of a general bombardment by the American fleet and army in case of a refusal. Resistance, it was declared, was now hopeless, and there was no military necessity for killing anybody. General Morales sent back a positive rejection, for he still entertained a faint hope of the timely arrival of assistance, and he did not inform General Scott how sadly he had failed in all his attempts to obtain supplies for the inhabitants and his army. Famine was already beginning to threaten all of the poorer classes who had neglected their opportunities to leave the city, or who had been unable to do so. As for Ned Crawford’s provisions, he had continued to board with Anita, or with any mess of military men among whom he might happen to be.He had made many acquaintances, and he had found the ragged, unpaid, illiterate Mexican soldiers a genuinely hospitable lot of patriotic fellows. He came to his supper somewhat late on the evening of March 21st, and that night, after going to care for his pony, he came back and slept on a blanket on the floor of Anita’s kitchen. On the morning of the 22d, he had but just walked out into the street when suddenly all the air around him seemed to be full of thunder. Roar followed roar, and peal followed peal, and then he heard affrighted shrieks in all directions. The bombardment had begun!
“O Madre de Dios!” moaned the voice of poor Anita behind him. “O Señor Carfora! We shall all be killed! What shall we do? Oh, the wicked gringos! What did they come here for? I never did them any harm.”
That was a terrible war question which was troubling Ned himself. Whatever might have been the evil doings of either of the two governments, or of all the scheming, ambitious politicians, the helpless people of Mexico were in no manner to blame. Why, then, he asked himself, should any of them, like Anita, for instance, be killed by cannon-shot or torn in pieces by burstingshells? He could not settle the matter in his mind just then, but he said to her, encouragingly:
“Don’t be so badly scared. Up here in this northern part of the town, we are as far away from the shooting as we could be. I’ll go over to the southern side of the city and see what is going on. As soon as I find out, I’ll come back and tell you.”
“Oh, do!” she said, “but do not get killed. Come back and get some dinner. I will cook you a real good one, if you will.”
That was something of a promise, for he knew that she was one of the prudent folk who had looked out for their supplies in time, but he walked away toward the southerly wall and the forts with a strong feeling that he must be in the middle of a kind of dreadful dream. He reached the line of antiquated and defective defences, which had been good enough long ago, but which were not constructed to resist modern artillery. Old as it might be, the wall was in the way of his intended sightseeing, but he saw a ladder leaning against the masonry, and up he went without asking permission of anybody. He was now standing upon the broad parapet, with his glass at his eye, and he was obtaining a first-rate view of thebombardment. On the land, stretching away to the west and south, were the long lines of the American batteries, within a not very long range of him, and from each of them at intervals the red sheets of fire burst forth, while over them the black clouds of powder smoke arose to be carried away by the brisk March wind that was blowing. Far away to his right, or seaward, all at anchor in the positions assigned them, lay the United States ships of war, of all kinds and sizes, and these, too, were getting at work, although they were as yet by no means putting forth their whole destructive power. It was as if they were but studying this siege business, getting the ranges correctly, and were preparing to do worse things than this in the days which were to come. Ned was gazing intently at a great 44-gun ship, which appeared to be sending her missiles at the castle, when a heavy shot from one of the batteries struck the wall within a few yards of him. It seemed to go deeply in, and the entire top of the parapet was torn away for a width of several feet. Ned hurried at once to get a good look down into the chasm, for it was the first time that he had seen anything of the kind.
“I wonder if our shot are doing this kindof thing for their batteries yonder,” he said aloud, in the Spanish which was now habitual with him, but at that moment a not unfriendly hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a quiet, firm voice said to him:
“What are you doing here, Señor Carfora? You seem to have no fear.”
“General Morales!” exclaimed Ned, in astonishment. “No, your Excellency. I was not thinking of that, but of this big hole. I was wondering if the walls of the castle are not stronger than these. If they are not—”
“They are much stronger, my brave fellow,” interrupted the general. “I am going over now to see how they are standing it. The Americans are very accurate gunners. Now, sir, you must not expose yourself in this manner. You are not a soldier. Go back into the city!”
“General,” said Ned, pointing in the direction of the cathedral, “do, please, look! Some of their shot go over the wall and strike away inside. I am safer here than I would be in yonder. What I am afraid of is that a great many of the women and children may be killed. I think, sir, that you ought not to be here, either. You are the general.”
“My boy,” said Morales, sadly, “I wasthinking of the non-combatants myself. This firing of the Yankees at the city is hideous. But it is war, and it cannot be helped. Ah, me! Feeling as I do this morning, I would ask nothing better than that one of these accursed shot or shell should come for me. I would a hundred times rather die than be compelled to surrender Vera Cruz.”
He again motioned Ned toward the ladder, and no disobedience was possible. He himself followed, for his solitary reconnoissance was ended, and he had been practically assured that his walls were of small value against heavy siege-guns. When he reached the ground, several subordinate officers came to join him, and Ned heard him say to them:
“That reckless young scamp, Carfora, has the nerves of an old soldier. He will make a good one by and by. We need more like him, for some of our artillerymen left their guns under the American fire.”
There was never any lack of courage among men of his kind, a Spaniard descended from the old conquistadors, while some of the officers around him were Indians fit to have led their tribes for Montezuma against the men of Hernando Cortes.
As Ned walked homeward, he haltedseveral times to tell some of his army acquaintances what he had seen from the wall, and how he had talked about it with General Morales. No doubt they esteemed him more highly than ever for his patriotism and high social standing, but he spoke also of the danger to the people, and they were sure that his heart was with them. Truth to tell, so it was, for the bombardment shortly became to him more horrible than ever. Something he could not see passed over his head, with a hiss that was almost like a human screech. Then followed a loud explosion, and there before him, on the bloody pavement, he saw the mangled corpses of a Mexican mother and two small children, who had been killed while they were hurrying away to a place of safety.
“Oh, the poor things!” sobbed Ned, as he burst out into tears. “What had they to do with the war!”
He could not bear to take a second look at them, and he hurried on, but when he reached the house he did not say anything about them to Anita. He told her about the batteries and the ships, and about the brave general on the parapet, and then she and her friends who were with her went away back into the kitchen, to be as safeas possible from flying shot and shell. It was not, they appeared to think, at all likely that any wicked gringo gunner would take aim at that kitchen.
As for Ned, he had only come in to go out again, for keeping indoors, with all that cannonading going on, was altogether out of the question.
CHAPTER XVI.GENERAL SCOTT AND HIS ARMY
“There they come! They are going to march right in! But what I want, most of all, is to see the general himself. There he is!”
Telescope in hand, Ned Crawford was standing on the parapet, near one of the southerly gates of Vera Cruz, watching the triumphant entrance of the American army. He could hardly have told whether he was more glad to see them come, or because the siege and the bombardment were over. He was already familiar with the various troops of Mexico, and he knew that some of them, but not many, could perform their military evolutions in pretty good style. The one thing which struck him most forcibly now, however, as his glass was aimed here and there over the approaching columns and lines, was that at no point was there a flaw or a defect in the orderly movements of the American soldiers. With admirable drilland under perfect management, they swung forward across the broad level between their earthwork batteries and the badly shattered wall of the captured city. Compared with them, the garrison which had surrendered was, for the greater part, only a little better than an ill-provided, half-armed, undisciplined mob. Wealth, arms, civilization, scientific generalship, had all been on the side of the great republic of the North, and there had been no doubt, from the beginning, as to what the result must be. The one important seaport of Mexico, with all its foreign commerce, was now under the control of the United States, and could not be taken from them.
Ned saw one of the advancing lines melt beautifully into the shape of a long column, and file through the gate near him. Then followed a section of field artillery and a small detachment of cavalry. All these were to be admired, of course, but his eyes watched them only for a moment, for just behind the horsemen came an exceedingly brilliant cavalcade, in front of which rode the remarkable man whom Ned was most anxious to see.
Beyond a doubt, General Winfield Scott had many severe critics and not a few personal enemies. By these, he was said tobe arrogant, blunt in manners, opinionated, and also a military martinet with terribly unvolunteer ideas relating to the rigid discipline required for success in war. He had seen, however, a deal of hard service in the war of 1812 and otherwise, and his military record was without a flaw. There were good judges, both in America and Europe, who believed and declared that for the management of a difficult campaign he had no superior among the generals then living. He was now actually called upon to prove that he could perform apparent impossibilities under very trying circumstances and with somewhat limited resources. Physically, he was a large, fine-looking man, and he was even excessively particular concerning the fit and elegance of his parade uniform. He was therefore looking his best when he rode in to take possession of Vera Cruz.
Ned went down a ladder as soon as he could, after breathlessly staring at the great commander, but he did not succeed in witnessing the formalities of the surrender, whatever they were. The crowds in his way were too much for him, but not long after General Scott and his staff disappeared through the portal of the building which had been the headquarters of poorGeneral Morales, Ned worked his way through a throng of downcast Mexicans toward a young officer who appeared to be in command of about a half company of infantry. From the excitement of the moment and from a good many months of daily custom, he spoke to the lieutenant in Mexican Spanish, in a recklessly eager manner and without touching his hat.
“What on earth do you want?” was the curt and gruff reply. “I’m only Lieutenant Grant. You’ll have to see somebody else, whatever it is. You had better go and speak to one of the staff.”
If Ned had really been a young Mexican, speaking no tongue but his own, he might not have understood that perfectly. As it was, however, he at once broke out with energy into a language to which he had for some time been unaccustomed. Even now, nevertheless, he forgot to touch his hat.
“Well, Mr. Grant,” he said, “I’ve been all over the country. I’ve been in the city of Mexico and among their troops, and I believe I know a lot of things that I ought to report to General Scott, or somebody.”
It was a patriotic idea which had been growing in his mind all that morning, andit had driven out of him every ounce of bashfulness.
“You have, have you?” said Grant. “I declare. Seems to me you speak English pretty well for a greaser—almost like a born American. I guess the general’s willing to hear almost anything. But you will have to see some member of the staff. Hullo! I say! Captain Lee! Here’s a kind of spy. I think you’d better hear him. I can’t leave my post.”
“Spy?” exclaimed Ned. “No, I’m not any such thing, but my name is Edward Crawford, and I’m from New York. I got stuck in Mexico and I couldn’t get out. I’ve been all around everywhere. Things are mixed—”
“Grant,” said Captain Lee, “he may have something worth while. I’ll take him in to see Schuyler Hamilton. Let the captain pump him.”
Captain Robert E. Lee was not exactly off duty at that hour, for he and other engineer officers had been ordered to make a survey of the fortifications, but he was there to receive instructions and he could take Ned in with him. He was a taller, handsomer fellow than Grant, and he was all of three times as polite in his treatment of Ned. Perhaps, however, Grant’s firstmanners had been damaged by being addressed in such a style, in Spanish, by an excited young Mexican.
In went Ned and Lee, and there was no difficulty in obtaining an interview with Captain Hamilton. Ned had never heard of him before, but he was now aware, from Captain Lee, that he was a descendant of General Philip Schuyler and General Alexander Hamilton of the Revolutionary War. Ned thought of Señora Tassara’s great ancestors for a moment, and then he did not really care a cent for pedigree. He even startled Hamilton himself by the energy and rapidity with which he told what he knew of the condition of things throughout the country, the movements of Santa Anna, and the political plots and conspiracies. Hamilton was a slender, graceful young man, handsomer than even Lee, and with piercing black eyes.
“Lee,” he said, “the cub is a genuine curiosity. I can’t imagine how on earth he learned so much. He isn’t a fool, by any means. General Scott will be at liberty in a few minutes, and Crawford must see him.”
“All right,” said Lee. “I have my instructions now, and I’ll leave him with you.They say the old castle’s badly knocked in pieces.”
If, as Lee intimated, the fortress of San Juan de Ulua was just then in bad condition, so was Ned when he heard what they were going to do with him. He had supposed that his errand had been completely done to the sharp-eyed staff officer, but now they threatened to bring him before the general, whom he considered the most tremendous man on the earth. It was a little too much, but he drew a long breath and stood as straight as a ramrod, looking very red indeed. In three minutes more he was brought face to face with the commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, and he felt as if he had been surrounded and compelled to surrender. Captain Hamilton reported the matter in the fewest words possible, but all the while the general had been watching Ned, looking right through him, and in a moment Ned found himself feeling perfectly easy. If General Scott had been his uncle, he could not have spoken to him in a kinder or more carelessly familiar way. He questioned him about all his experiences, and an acute listener might have gathered that he paid more attention to Ned’s political informationthan to anything of a strictly military nature.
“Hamilton,” he slowly remarked, at last, “General Taylor did an exceedingly good thing for us down here, after all. The battle of Buena Vista was our own battle. Santa Anna will not be able to raise another army like the one that was so roughly handled up there. If it had been here, in good shape, we would have had ten times as much trouble in taking Vera Cruz. Santa Anna’s power is already half broken.”
“Perhaps a little more,” suggested Hamilton.
“Perhaps,” said the general, “but our patriotic young friend here has made a valuable report. Ah, McClellan! You and Beauregard are to make the inspection of the castle with Captain Lee. Take Crawford back to Grant, as you go. He may serve with the Seventh as an unenlisted man. Let him have his orders, Hamilton. He is a brave fellow.”
Out went Ned with a pair of as yet undistinguished officers, both of whom were to be heard of again in after time, and it did not occur to the very much elated “scout,” as he now considered himself, to correct General Scott’s apparent idea thatLieutenant Ulysses S. Grant was a particular friend and guardian of his.
“Now, if this isn’t bully!” he thought. “I’ve been on the Mexican side all the while till now. I’ve been kind of part of the garrison of Vera Cruz, but I’ve been praised by General Scott, for all that. I wonder what our folks at home would say to it!”
It was a grand thing to think of, and Ned felt as proud as if he had been promoted for storming an enemy’s entrenchments.
There was another experience of an entirely unexpected character just before him, however. Hardly had McClellan and Beauregard turned him over to Grant, and while the latter was inspecting the order written by Captain Hamilton, Ned was suddenly shaken from head to foot. Not that anybody, Mexican or American, was actually handling him roughly, but that a hoarse, eager voice at his right ear exclaimed:
“Edward! My son! Is this you? Are you a prisoner?”
“No, Mister,” responded Grant, before Ned could gather his wits to utter a word. “He isn’t a prisoner, but I’m ordered to stick him into the outside of the Seventh somewhere. Is he your son?”
“He is, lieutenant,” said Mr. Crawford. “And, oh, how glad I am!”
“Father!” Ned had shouted, as a pair of strong arms went around him. “How did you happen to be here?”
“I came on one of our own supply-ships,” said Mr. Crawford. “I’ll tell you all about it by and by. I had all but given up hearing anything of you, and we sail for New York to-morrow. Lieutenant, I haven’t seen him for more’n a year. I want a good long talk.”
“Of course you do!” said Grant, heartily. “Take him along, and let him report at the camp of the Seventh to-morrow morning. You may go now, my young greaser, but you’d better get on another rig than that before you come.”
“He will do that,” said Mr. Crawford. “Come along, Ned. Let’s go where we can be by ourselves. I want to hear your whole yarn, from beginning to end, and I’ve all sorts of things to tell you.”
“Father,” said Ned, “I know just the place. We’ll go and get supper at old Anita’s, and we can talk all the way. Hurrah! How’s mother?”
All the most important home news followed quickly after that, and Ned felt that the capture of Vera Cruz was more important than ever.
“I am going to let you stay here, though,” said his father. “You can learn more than in any other way that I know of.”
“That’s what I want,” said Ned. “And now I shall be in our army.”
The father and son were not walking very fast, but they could talk rapidly, and they had a great many things to say. They had some things to see, as well, for everywhere, as they went, they encountered detachments of United States soldiers patrolling the city, restoring order and setting things to rights. That they were doing so appeared to be a tremendous surprise to large numbers of the inhabitants, who had almost been expecting to be ruthlessly plundered, if not murdered outright, by these cruel barbarians from the awful republic of the North. Not all of them were panic-stricken in this way, however, for when the house of old Anita was reached, she was standing in the doorway, and she greeted them loudly with:
“O Señor Carfora! I knew all the while that you were a gringo. I am so glad that we have surrendered! Santa Maria Gloriosa! Praise all the saints! We shall have no more cannonading! We shall have plenty to eat!”
“That is just what we want, Anita,” repliedNed. “This is my father. He has come to see me, and you must give him some dinner. Then I will tell you all about General Scott and the American soldiers.”
She had neighbors with her, as usual, and some of them had become accustomed to regarding Ned as a kind of newsboy. They were now also prepared to thank a large number of religious personages that he was a genuine gringo, and on good terms with the conquering invaders, who were henceforth to have the control of affairs in Vera Cruz.
It was late that night when Ned said good-by to his father, and it was like pulling teeth to let him go, but there was no help for it, as the sailing of the supply-ship could not be delayed. Ned was once more alone in Mexico, and it took all his enthusiasm for his expected army life to reconcile him to the situation. Perhaps there was not a great deal of sound sleeping done, in the hammock that swung in the little room in the Tassara mansion, but at an early hour next morning he was on his way to hunt up the camp of the Seventh Infantry and the tent of Lieutenant Grant. This was accomplished without much difficulty, and almost immediately Ned made a discovery. His probable coming had, of course, been reportedto the colonel commanding the regiment, and that officer’s common-sense remark was:
“Unenlisted orderly, eh? Yankee boy that can speak Spanish, and that knows every corner of this miserable city? Just what we want. I’m glad old Fuss and Feathers sent him to us. He is the greatest general in the world. Send your scout right here to me. I’ve errands for him.”
Therefore, the next chapter in Ned’s Mexican experiences was that he found himself sent out, soldierlike, upon a long list of duties, for which he was peculiarly well prepared by knowing where to find streets and houses which were as yet unknown to the rank and file of the gallant Seventh. The men, on their part, soon came to regard him as a soldier boy, like themselves, and he had a fine opportunity for learning, from day to day, the processes by which General Scott was organizing his force for his intended march across the sierra, on the road he had selected for reaching the city of Mexico. It was soon to be plainly understood that, whenever that army should march, it would do so as a sort of human machine, ready to perform any military work which its commander might require of it.