Los gringos; or, An inside view of Mexico and California

by H. A. Wise

This course of action was considerably hastened, on the morning of the 21st, by the appearance of two large vessels in the offing; eventually proving to be the whale ships "Magnolia" and "Edward," of New Bedford—Captains Simmons and Barker—who learning from a launch, near Cape San Lucas, the state of affairs in San José, without a thought to their own interests, resolved to do the utmost for the garrison. Standing boldly into the bay, dropping anchor, discharging a cannon, and taking in sails together, they succeeded completely in deceiving the guerrillas, who were posted in strength on the beach to oppose a landing; and who, under the belief that the ships were either men-of-war or transports, fell back to their camp, and shortly after retreated up the valley; not, however, without giving a parting volley to the Cuartel, which was courteously returned by Mr. Gillespie, who knocked a trooper from his saddle by a rifle-bullet.

On being informed of the straightened situation of their countrymen, these bold captains, with their brave crews, armed themselves with muskets, lances, spades, and harpoons from their ships, and sixty in number at once landed, and marched to the Cuartel. The provisions and ammunition of the garrison had been nearly exhausted, and these resolute whale-men instantly brought on shore a quantity of bread—all the powder they possessed, and even parted with hand and deep sea leads to mould into bullets! Not contented with this, they formed into companies—were drilled—and evinced an enthusiasm to do good battle for those they had so generously and disinterestedly succored. Not only were these gallant deeds undertaken without solicitation, but they nobly gave food and raiment to many of the timid peasantry received on board their ships. If any more admirable patriotism can be shown than this, let it be inscribed in grateful remembrance, with the names of Simmons and Barker!

A few days later a government transport and corvette arrived: the garrison was supplied with two more carronade guns, and an abundance of ammunition and provisions. The quarters were considerably strengthened, and an adobie bastion, with four embrasures raised in front of the Cuartel. The force was also increased by ten marines, and sixteen men whose terms of service had not quite expired; many of whom were invalids, and were thus merely a make-weight upon those they had been detailed to assist.

For a month all remained quiet in the vicinity—the guerrillas had fallen back upon La Paz. Reports, however, gave every indication that another and more serious attack was contemplated upon San José; but, notwithstanding this state of affairs, and the events which had transpired, the commander of the corvette saw no further cause for alarm, and being homeward-bound, sailed for the United States. The bold whalers had also long since departed—although not until their services had been no more required—and at length the bay was once more deserted.

No longer deterred by the men-of-war, the guerrillas, having been baffled in their demonstrations upon La Paz, again resolved to attempt the reduction of San José, with such an overwhelming force as to place the result beyond a doubt. Accordingly, breaking up their camp, with three hundred cavalry, they entered the lower valley on the 15th of January. For a week they were posted within a league of the village, whilst detached portions were employed driving off cattle and horses, destroying the crops, and intercepting all communication with the interior. On the 21st, a small schooner anchored in the bay, having some articles for the garrison. The following morning, the sea road appearing free from the enemy, two officers and five men, well armed and mounted, started to communicate with the vessel. On gaining the beach, they were surrounded by an ambuscade of one hundred and fifty guerrillas, and taken prisoners. Shortly afterwards, they were carried up the valley: with pain and anxiety, their friends saw them from the Cuartel, without the means of affording them relief. Emboldened by this success, which was indeed a bitter loss to the little garrison, the guerrillas contracted their lines, and each day found them nearer the town. Again the besieged and the native residents, with their families, were obliged to keep closely within their quarters. Step by step the enemy after gaining the main avenue, pierced the buildings on either hand, and cutting trenches across the transverse lanes, they succeeded in forcing a passage, entirely concealed from view, until they gained complete possession of the town. And in an adobie house, within fifty yards of the American battery, the walls, already three feet in thickness, were increased by planting stakes inside, which were filled up with hard timber and sand; and such was its strength, that twelve-pound shot, fired at forty yards, made no perceptible impression: from the azotea of this entrenchment the Mexican flag floated in defiance.

Besides these annoyances, almost every dwelling in the street was loopholed, occupied and protected by heavy angular barricades of pickets and earth, making safe points for the use of musketry, while the church and surrounding eminences were strongly guarded.

During these operations the garrison had not been merely spectators. They made a number of sorties, with the loss of but one man killed, and succeeded in saving a small quantity of rice. But by the 10th of February, the guerrillas had entire possession of the town, and from front, sides and rear of the Cuartel, they were enabled to throw a raking fire. From that time forth, the fusillade was incessant; the least exposure of person being made the target for a simultaneous discharge of fifty bullets; and from long practice they were found well skilled in handling their weapons—pouring the lead in at every aperture.

On the afternoon of the 11th, the garrison had to lament the death of the second in command, Passed Midshipman Tenant McLenahan. While engaged at his duties on the azotea, amid a shower of deadly missiles, he was struck down by a bullet in the throat, and fell with one hand clasping the flagstaff that upheld the colors he had so intrepidly defended. He was a young officer of undaunted resolution, courageous and energetic. He expired two hours after being wounded, and was buried in rear of the Cuartel, while the sharp whistling of bullets and reports of cannon echoed over his untimely grave—a fitting requiem for the noble spirit that had taken its flight.[4]

The commander and a single officer were now all that remained. The whole garrison numbered but sixty, including sick, wounded, and twenty of the enrolled natives; the buildings were crowded to excess with women and children; they were to be fed; provisions were becoming scarce; bread was entirely gone, and naught remained, save a few days' salt meat on half an allowance. In addition to the want of these necessaries, the assailants had cut off the access to the stream in rear of the Cuartel, or at least so enveloped the outlets and approaches to the pools—by screens of sand and barricades of pickets—as to make it a matter of almost certain death to seek water, either by day or night. There was no other course to pursue than the arduous task of digging a well within the walls. This, by the most untiring exertions, was finally accomplished, by boring thirty feet through the solid rock.

In such an emergency, surrounded by nearly ten times their numbers, less undaunted spirits might reasonably have succumbed to the perils of a siege that was hourly becoming more straitened. But the beleaguered little garrison, though a small band, were true to themselves. There were neither murmurs nor thoughts of surrender—they still vigilantly guarded the defences—with but limited rest or food—while the bullets and shot of the besiegers flew in by the loop-holes, or plunged through the walls. Yet there was no flinching—ever on the alert—for hours and hours they watched the enemy, and wo betide the adventurous guerrilla, who, becoming rash from fancied security, exposed an inch of flesh! the leaden messenger from some deadly carbine gave sad warning to his comrades.