EL PASO OCCUPIED
The Mexican troops now evacuated the district; the National Guards disbanded; and presently a humble deputation from El Paso was explaining to Doniphan that arms had been taken up by the citizens under compulsion. Two days after the skirmish, therefore, amid a general appearance of satisfaction, he and his rough troopers concluded they had reached paradise. Along the Rio Grande, mostly on the southern side, ten or twelve thousand people occupied settlements extending downstream for many miles. Above, there was a dam; and artificial streams from that point not only irrigated the rich fields and vineyards, but watered the orchards, in which many of the houses were buried, and freshened the long and regular streets, which not only were shaded by lines of trees full of lively and tuneful birds, but were kept neat by daily sweeping. To drill, practice twice a day at the targets, and feast on the abundant fruits in such a place was a most agreeable change from the Jornada del Muerto.[11]
El Paso did not prove, however, to be exactly a paradise. Unlimited self-indulgence led to considerable sickness, and several men died. It led also to disorders and to outrages on the people, and before long two lieutenants, both intoxicated, fought with dirks. Moreover it was now learned that Wool had not gone to Chihuahua,[7] that great preparations for resistance were making there, and that a serious insurrection—purposely exaggerated by the Mexican reports—had occurred in the rear.[8] The boldest appeared therefore to be the wisest course—to push forward, and conquer or die.[9] But without cannon only the second alternative was possible, and the artillery did not arrive. Price was in fact extremely unwilling to part with it, and owing to this and other difficulties Clark was unable to set out for El Paso until January 10. Then his men encountered even more painful hardships than Doniphan’s had undergone, for they had to struggle with snow—to say nothing of almost perishing with hunger, and being nearly buried in a sandstorm; and it was not until February 5 that men, guns and wagons joined the impatient command.[11]
Three days afterwards the belated expedition set out on its march for Chihuahua—nearly three hundred miles distant—with 924 effective soldiers, besides about three hundred traders and teamsters, who were sworn into the service by Doniphan and elected a merchant named Owens as their major. About seven hundred of the troops belonged to the First Missouri regiment, about one hundred to Clark’s artillery, and about one hundred to a body named the Chihuahua Rangers, made up at Santa Fe.[10] There were four 6-pounders, two 12-pound howitzers, and about 315 goods-wagons besides the wagons belonging to the companies and the commissary department, each with its quota of attendants; and as the column, with every banner unfurled, wound into the distance as far as the eye could see, it made a gallant and picturesque sight. It was exposed to a rear attack from Sonora; but that state, while alive to the opportunity, had not the means to take advantage of it.[11]
Troubles enough presented themselves, however. The country was bare and monotonous, producing little except the crooked mezquite and an occasional willow. A desert sixty-five miles wide and another nearly as large had to be crossed. Heat alternated with cold, and one day it was necessary to kindle fires repeatedly to warm benumbed limbs. Tents were blown down by storms. More than once no fuel and no water could be had for days. Antelopes and hares could frequently be seen; but the tarantulas, rattlesnakes and copperheads were far more numerous, and far more willing to be intimate. One day, when the army was in camp at a lake, the grass took fire, and in an instant a small flame went scudding off, burning a narrow trail. Soon this was driven by a whirlwind up the mountain side, spreading into a vast blaze; and then, gathering force, it rolled back upon the camp like a tidal wave. By arts known to the plainsman almost everything was saved; but with a fearful roaring and crackling a surge of fire swept over the encampment, proving how great the danger had been.[11]
The state of things in the country farther south could not easily be ascertained, for the authorities at Chihuahua had cut off all communication with the north; but there were hostile spies, and some of them, taken prisoners, had to give instead of obtaining information. About seven hundred Mexican cavalry—said to be twice as many—were discovered in front looking for a favorable opening, which they did not find. At length, crossing a handsome plain on February 27, the expedition came at nightfall to the hacienda of El Sauz, and learned that strong fortifications had been erected at the Sacramento River, fifteen miles farther on. That was the next watering-place, and evidently it would have to be fought for; so a halt was made and a plan devised. “Cheer up, boys,” said Doniphan with a twinkle; “To-morrow evening I intend to have supper with the Mexicans on the banks of a beautiful spring.”[11]
THE SITUATION AT CHIHUAHUA
As early as August, 1846, Chihuahua had expected this visit; and the governor, saying that Kearny’s army had occupied New Mexico “as easily as it would have pitched its tents in the desert,” seemed ready to let the operation be repeated in his own state. Perhaps he was merely weak, but the same pro-American influences of a commercial nature that we have observed at El Paso and Santa Fe were rife about him, and there was also much sentiment in favor of establishing the northern provinces as an independent republic under the protection of the United States. Over against these ideas, however, and possibly because of them, existed a peculiarly intense hatred of us, exasperated now by the loss of New Mexico and the fear of American outrages.[13]
