At last we reached our camp at a dirty, muddy lake—ornamented by a dead jackass. Pat ensconced himself in the best place with Tennessee horse as a guard, put Gibson “in battery” on the road, with us on his left flank—a large interval between us and the Tennessee horse—a similar one between Gibson and the Illinois foot. Gibson had orders to defend the road. How he was to be informed of the approach of the enemy “this deponent knoweth not,” such a thing as a picket was not thought of. I suppose Pat thought the guns old enough to speak for themselves.
For our Christmas dinner we had a beefsteak and some fried mush. Not quite so good as turkey and mince pies, but we enjoyed it as much as the cits at home did their crack dinners. We finished a bottle of the Captain’s best sherry in a marvellous short time. Songo looked as if he thought we ought to be fuddled, but we were too old soldiers for that. After dinner we started off “to see Seth Williams,” but saw the mustangs at their feed and “huevosed” the ranche. By the bye, we thought that ordinary politeness would have induced old Pat to have given us an invitation to dine, but we spent our time more pleasantly than we would have done there. We went from Pat’s to Colonel Thomas’s, and returned thence to Gibson, whom we found in a very good humor, and whose Volunteer Sub-Lieutenant (W——) was most gloriously and unroariously [sic] corned. He yelled like a true Mohawk, and swore that “little Jane” somebody had the prettiest foot and hand in all Tennessee. He set the men a most splendid example of good conduct and quietness, but what can you expect from a Volunteer? One of his ideas was first rate—“Just imagine old Patt being attacked by the Mexicans, and running over here in his shirt tail—breaking thro’ the pond with old Abercrombie after him. The d—d old fox put us here where he thought the enemy would get us. Suppose they should come in on the other side? D—n him we’d see him streaking over here, with old McCall and Abercrombie after, their shirt tails flying, by G—d.”
December 26th. Marched 20 miles to San Fernando where we arrived a little after sunset. Road level until we arrived within about 5 miles of San Fernando, when it became rocky and hilly but always practicable. About 4 miles from San Fernando we reached the summit of a hill from which we beheld a basin of hills extending for miles and miles—not unlike the hills between the Hudson and Connecticut opposite West Point. About two miles from San Fernando are some wells of pretty good water—the men were very thirsty—Gerber offered a volunteer half a dollar for a canteen full of water. My little mare drank until I thought she would kill herself. The Alcalde and his escort met General Patterson at this place. He was all bows, smiles and politeness. Murphy of whom more anon had the honor of taking San Fernando by storm. He was the first to enter it, mounted on his gallant steed. We first saw San Fernando as we arrived at the summit of a high hill, the last rays of the sun shining on its white houses, and the dome of the “Cathedral” gave it a beautiful appearance. It was a jewel in the midst of these uninhabited and desert hills. We encamped in a hollow below the town—had a small eggnog and dreamed of a hard piece of work we had to commence on the morrow. Mañana [tomorrow morning] por la mañana.
December 27th. We had our horses saddled at reveillé and before sunrise were upon the banks of El Rio de San Fernando—a clear, cold and rapid mountain stream, about 40 yards wide and two and a half feet deep—bottom of hard gravel. We crossed the stream and found ourselves the first American soldiers who had been on the further bank. The approaches to the stream from the town required some repairs, nothing very bad—it was horrible on the other side. As we again crossed the stream we halted to enjoy the beautiful view—the first rays of the sun gave an air of beauty and freshness to the scene that neither pen nor pencil can describe.
With a detail of 200 men and our own company we finished our work before dinner. Walked up into the town in the afternoon. On this day General Pillow overtook us. He had a difficulty with a volunteer officer who mutinied, drew a revolver on the General, etc., etc. The General put him in charge of the guard—his regiment remonstrated, mutinied, etc., and the matter was finally settled by the officer making an apology.
December 28th. Crossed the stream before sunrise under orders to move on with the Tennessee horse one day in advance of the column in order to repair a very bad ford at the next watering place—Las Chomeras. Very tiresome and fatiguing march of about 22 miles. Road pretty good, requiring a few repairs here and there. Water rather brackish. Very pretty encampment. Stream about 20 yards wide and 18 inches deep. No bread and hardly any meat for supper.
December 29th. Finished the necessary repairs about 12 noon. We partook of some kid and claret with Colonel Thomas. While there General Patterson arrived and crossed the stream, encamping on the other side. Waded over the stream to see the Generals—were ordered to move on in advance next morning with two companies of horse and 100 infantry.
December 30th. Started soon after daybreak minus the infantry who were not ready. Joined advanced guard, where Selby raised a grand scare about some Indians who were lying in ambush at a ravine called “los tres palos” in order to attack us. When we reached the ravine the guard halted and I rode on to examine it and look for the Indians—I found a bad ravine but no Indians.
On this same day the Major commanding the rear guard (Waterhouse, of the Tennessee Cavalry) was told by a wagonmaster that the advanced guard was in action with the Mexicans. The men, in the rear guard, immediately imagined that they could distinguish the sound of cannon and musketry. The cavalry threw off their saddle bags and set off at a gallop—the infantry jerked off their knapsacks and put out—Major and all deserted their posts on the bare report of a wagonmaster that the advance was engaged. A beautiful commentary this on the “citizen soldiery.” Had we really been attacked by 500 resolute men we must inevitably have been defeated, although our column consisted of 1700—for the road was narrow—some men would have rushed one way, some another—all would have been confusion—and all, from the General down to the dirtiest rascal of the filthy crew, would have been scared out of their wits (if they ever had any).
Our 100 infantry dodged off before we had done much work, and our own men did everything. We reached Encinal about 4 P. M. after a march of about 17 miles, and almost incessant labor at repairs. It was on this day that General Patterson sent back Brigadier General Pillow to tell Second Lieutenant Smith to cut down a tree around which it was impossible to go!!