In a word, the position consisted essentially of a tongue of land crossed near its elevated tip by the El Paso highway, with the Sacramento River and the Arroyo Seco on its edges, a series of fortifications round its tip, and an answering fortification beyond the river on a hill. It seemed to bar the way of the Americans completely. The Mexicans felt sure that it did so, and on the evening of February 27, jubilant and boastful, they even talked of recovering New Mexico. Anyhow these presumptuous and contemptible Yankees were to be cut up, and the booty would include a caravan worth a million. Yet influential Chihuahuans had a financial interest in that caravan,[13] and one may be sure they were not asleep.[14]
THE BATTLE OF SACRAMENTO
Next morning the Americans awoke early. Already the horses had been carefully inured to explosions of powder. Now swords were filed, rifles loaded afresh, straps tested, and even the linch-pins of the wagons inspected; and by daybreak the command set out. To make it compact, ready for attack from any quarter and perplexing to hostile observers, the wagons were formed in four well-separated columns of about one hundred each; the artillery and most of the troops marched between these columns, and the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson—regarded as proper cavalry and not simply mounted men—rode in front as advance guard and screen; and in this formation, with banners and guidons flaunting to impress the enemy, it rolled forward through a valley about four miles wide, bounded on each hand by a massive, barren cordillera,[15] until at about half-past one the troops, coming in sight of the Mexican works, noticed a quick, sharp flash there: the Mexican cavalry drawing their sabres.[17]
Doniphan and his principal officers now galloped ahead, and at a distance of two or three miles reconnoitred most carefully with glasses the Mexican position. It looked impregnable; and when the command was about a mile and a half distant from it, the Colonel—first ordering his cavalry screen to keep on advancing—turned the main body sharply to the right, intending to cross the Arroyo Seco higher up, and gain the plateau there. It was a brilliant scheme but perilous. Good troops, not encumbered with artillery or baggage, might undertake such a manoeuvre even in the face of the enemy, but with four hundred wagons, most of them extremely heavy, it seemed impossible for untrained volunteers to cross the Arroyo, and mount the high bank of the plateau; yet not only was it a chief part of the soldiers’ business to protect the wagons, but it looked as if the wagons might soon be needed to protect the soldiers. Hence this desperate attempt had to be made. Heredia observed it immediately; and, concluding that the Americans were aiming, as a last hope, to avoid his works and follow the Torreón route, he instructed García Conde, the chief cavalry officer, to hold them in check until the artillery and infantry could arrive and finish them.[17]
But these Americans were no ordinary men; and while they had little fear of death, it was their belief that defeat would mean dungeons and torture. After marching for some distance with all possible speed up the Arroyo road, they stopped at the point selected. Instantly shovels, pickaxes, crowbars and ropes were out of the supply wagon, and for a few moments the sand flew as if electrified. Then the drivers yelled like Apaches; the mules were stimulated by every art known to drivers; and the swaying wagons headed for the ravine. At the brink many of the frightened animals, twisting their necks back till they almost broke, stopped short; but the men pushed them along, and down they all plunged, floundering, biting and kicking. Across the deep, sandy bottom they were driven or dragged amid shouts, curses and “hell let loose,” as a soldier put it; and then came the real struggle—the opposite ascent, forty or fifty feet high. Wild with excitement, pain and fright, the animals exerted every nerve, scrambling, jumping, rearing and panting; the teamsters yelled and flogged; and the soldiers tugged and lifted at the wheels, or pulled with hundreds of ropes. In a few minutes, as it seemed, the incredible was done, and the command, forming on the plateau as before, advanced. Already the Mexican horse were dashing on, brandishing their lances in the sun, fluttering their bright pennons, and waving a black flag decorated with a skull and crossbones; but, as Doniphan did not appear to be making for El Torréon, they concluded to halt, and let the infantry and artillery overtake them.[17]
It was now a little before three o’clock, and when enough ground had been gained so that the traders and teamsters could make the caravan into a fort, Major Clark’s trumpeter sounded “Trot!” and Battery A emerged from the masking wagons. “Form battery, action front, load and fire at will!” rang out Weightman’s clear voice; and at a range of about half a mile solid shot, chain-shot and shells, perfectly aimed, saluted the lancers, who had never listened to such music before. Three rounds, and they broke. With great efforts they were rallied, but the fourth round sent them flying to the camp; and Ponce de Léon, the hero of El Brazito, who had led the advance, also led the flight. The infantry, now exposed to the American fire, caught the panic, and at the sound of the cannon-balls men crouched or lay down.[17]
An artillery duel followed. Most of the Mexican projectiles, falling short and bounding once or twice, lost enough velocity to become visible, and the Americans—laughing till the tears furrowed their dusty cheeks—quickly became expert in dodging them. After a time, however, the Mexicans discontinued their fire; and Doniphan, as the last of the wagons had come up, did the same, wishing to form again and advance. Heredia now reoccupied his works; but the original defensive attitude could but very imperfectly be resumed, and the former confidence was gone. The whole plan of the battle had been blown to pieces, it was seen. The splendid fortifications now meant very little; the boasted cavalry were demoralized; the prospect of plundering the wagons had vanished, and the Brazito rout became a fact once more. Heredia ordered two guns to occupy the fort on Sacramento Hill, and rake the Americans from that elevated point; and several other pieces went there without orders, abandoning the redoubts. A great portion of the infantry leaked away, and soon Heredia did the same.[17]
The Americans felt correspondingly elated; and, obliquing toward the right in order to avoid the principal mass of the works and approach the ford, they moved on toward Forts N and O, into which Trias, observing their approach, now threw the best of his troops—the regular infantry and a part of the Second Durango squadron. “Storm the fort, storm the fort!” shouted the Americans; and at the proper distance Weightman and the howitzer section were ordered to charge the work at N, supported by the companies of Reid, Parsons and Hudson.[16] This order failed to reach Parsons and Hudson, but Reid and others advanced all the same. Unfortunately a deep gully was soon encountered in front of the fort, and the assailants found themselves at a loss. With a few backers Major Owens, who seems to have desired to die, rushed across, emptied his pistols into the midst of the enemy, and fell. Still others dismounted and skirmished. The howitzers, galloping to the left, succeeded in turning the gully, and unlimbered within fifty yards of the enemy, while a part of Reid’s troopers, now supported by Hudson’s, did the same, and then charged at O. Entrance to the fort was gained.[17]
But the enemy there and in the adjacent breastworks, proved too strong, and the Americans, veering again to the left, passed along the front of the fortifications, drawing their fire and shooting with some effect, but discovering no place for a serious blow. The fall of Owens, who was supposed by the Mexicans to be our leader, and the failure of the attack upon the fort encouraged the enemy. Trias and García Conde managed to rally some lancers for a charge, and artillerymen with two guns prepared to follow them. Before such odds a few of our howitzer force gave way.[17]
The rest did not. A round of canister scattered the lancers, and then a large body of Americans, rushing in at a gallop, threw themselves from their horses. Parsons’ and Hudson’s men joined them, and all pressed up the slope of O together, firing at will. The Mexicans learned quickly not to show their heads. Raising their muskets above the parapets at arm’s length and blazing away without effect, they soon used up their ammunition. By this time the Americans, bravely aided by the howitzers, were near their goal. Rifles were dropped. A rush was made. “With a whoop and a yell and a plunge,” wrote a soldier, “we were over into their fort, man to man, grappling in a merciless fray, neither giving nor receiving quarter.” Six-shooters, knives and even stones were made to serve, and in a moment the fort was taken.[17]