Pillow’s orders were to set out on his march of about four miles at 6 o’clock on Sunday morning, yet he did not reach his position until almost 9. One reason for the delay probably was, that in consequence of a manoeuvre, executed by his order, the rear of the column missed the proper route. Another reason also may be surmised. Aside from wanting confidence in their general’s military capacity, his troops had long disliked him; and his display of unfeeling harshness on the march from Vera Cruz had given further offence. Under such circumstances things never can go well.[29]
During the march he announced that he had changed his mind, and would have the First Pennsylvania (Wynkoop) supported by the First Tennessee (Campbell) attack on the northern face of tongue A, and the Second Tennessee (Haskell) supported by the Second Pennsylvania (Roberts) attack on the southern face of B, which was obviously sure—since it guarded the old road—to be held more strongly than either of the other tongues.[28] This ingenious plan, moreover, divided the American while tending to concentrate the Mexican strength. By mismanagement he reversed both of his attacking regiments—a mistake that caused embarrassment and loss of time; and then on leaving the highway, about three miles from Plan del Río, and entering the narrow path leading to the point of attack, he adopted this order: Wynkoop, Haskell, Campbell, Roberts, which—since it was necessary to advance mostly in single file—placed Campbell and Roberts a long distance from the troops that each was to support, so that neither of them reached his position before the fighting on this wing ended.[29]
On arriving at the appointed spot, where the orders of Mexican officers at B could be heard very distinctly, Haskell began to form his badly scattered regiment. “Why the Hell don’t Colonel Wynkoop file to the right?” shouted Pillow at the top of his voice. A bugle in the front sounded instantly, and within three minutes the Mexicans opened a heavy fire of grape and canister. Some of Haskell’s men, brave but not in hand, bolted; others took shelter; and the rest, at Pillow’s order, charged pell-mell. Emerging into the cleared space they received a murderous fire from all of the tongues. In less than three minutes about eighty, including every field officer except the colonel, were either killed or wounded, and all able to move were in flight. Pillow meanwhile, squatting in the bushes with his back to the enemy at a distance of about 450 yards, was “shot all to pieces,” as he said, by a canister bullet that slightly wounded his upper arm; and he retired at a run, leaving Wynkoop without the promised instructions.[29]
A state of general confusion ensued. Campbell and his men were anxious to charge; Wynkoop felt no less eager when it was too late; the Second Pennsylvania was demoralized; all were more or less under fire. Campbell, however, to whom Pillow resigned the command, got the men almost ready to charge upon tongue A; but then Pillow, venturing back from the rear, withdrew his brigade so far into the woods that, until notified by Scott, he did not know the Mexicans in his front, who found their rear was occupied by the Americans, had surrendered. As for the 8-inch howitzer, it fired seven ineffective shells; and then, at the critical time, as Pillow had neglected to arrange a code of signals, Ripley, who controlled it, suspended work. Evidently, as Polk said, gallant Americans—and such Pillow’s men really were—did not require a commander![29]
A little before 10 o’clock the fighting was over and pursuit began. Having little cavalry and no adequate subsistence train Scott’s powers in this respect were limited; but every man had been expected to set out in the morning with rations for two days, and substantially all the troops except Pillow’s, accompanied by two incomplete batteries, moved actively forward. Patterson once more became well enough to act, and took charge of the advanced forces. Frequently bands of fugitives were seen at a distance, looking in their cotton or linen jackets like flocks of sheep. The artillery had some fair long shots, and occasionally other troops also came within reach of the enemy. But the Mexicans fled—even the cavalry—without stopping for ceremony, too much cowed to face even a small party of Americans; and the results were of little significance.[31]
Heat and exhaustion checked the most advanced pursuers about four miles from Jalapa, but nothing could stop the Mexicans. Like stampeded cattle, the fugitives thought only of flying until worn out. No stand was made at Jalapa. At La Hoya, the second line of defence, General Gómez, hearing of the disaster, sent word to the rear, “All is lost at Cerro Gordo, all, all!” and fled. In complete disorder, panting, starving, falling by the way—the horses of the cavalry in a like state—the men streamed on toward Puebla, plundering when they could. Thousands also of those who surrendered managed to escape at one place or another in the rough, wooded country, and, as Scott could with difficulty feed his own army and thought future opposition could be weakened by proving the friendly sentiments of his proclamation, the remaining 3000 were released on parole.[30] More than 4000 stand of arms, old and not worth using, were destroyed; and about forty cannon, which Scott had no means of transporting, were rendered unserviceable and left at Cerro Gordo. The Mexican casualties were estimated at 1000 or 1200, while the American loss during the two days amounted to only thirty officers and 387 men, of whom sixty-four were killed.[31]
JALAPA OCCUPIED
Next morning the Americans advanced again. For the two last miles below Jalapa the highway ran between continuous hedges loaded with blossoms and vocal with the songs of birds, while bougainvillea flamed here and there on a cabin or tree-top in a conflagration of purple, and the air was laden with delicious perfumes; and when the town was descried from an eminence, it seemed like a delicate mosaic set in a massive frame of rich emerald. Friends had been left behind forever, but grief was offset by the joy of surviving; and after dressing ranks the troops began to enter Jalapa at about 9 o’clock with bayonets fixed, colors flying and bands playing. Some of the girls could not help laughing at the unkempt appearance and nondescript costumes of the terrible and victorious Yankees; but the people, who lined the streets, appeared neither hostile nor afraid, and the bells rang out a welcome.[32] The soldiers for their part soon felt they had reached Eden, and they were none the less content on hearing of the dull saffron haze which now hung over Vera Cruz—a visible token that “King Death in his Yellow Robe” had once more set up his throne there; while Scott himself, wishing to tranquillize the army and favorably impress the public, proceeded to hide the errors of his subordinates with reports that misled the public.[33] As for the future he cheerfully announced, “Mexico has no longer an army.” Apparently the United States had a very substantial one; but surprises were soon to occur.[34]