At length, however, while McIntosh was charging, Alvarez advanced in brilliant array with his own division. Sumner at once dashed hotly across the ravine and at them, passing the Mexican infantry within pistol range and losing forty-four men and 104 horses in perhaps ten seconds. Duncan turned his now unemployed guns in the same direction. One of Alvarez’s brigades, made up of untrained guerillas, broke immediately under the cannon fire; and the whole division soon retreated in disorder upon Andrade’s men, fiercely pursued by the riderless horses of Sumner’s command, as if to get revenge for the loss of their masters. Later some of the cavalry undertook, or so pretended, to cross the ravine at another point. But Sumner dashed at them again, a part of Cadwalader’s brigade was now in that quarter, and both Duncan and Huger—the latter being at present near the American centre with one gun— sent their compliments; the Mexicans retreated; and at about seven o’clock the battle ended.[5]
“A sad mistake,” said Hitchcock, and he was right. A few cannon moulds were found. The partial destruction of El Molino and Casa Mata cancelled the military value of the position, and facilitated later American operations; but such operations were not contemplated at this time. A few small cannon and a quantity of more or less valuable ammunition fell into our hands, and a heavy gun at Chapultepec became disabled. Probably 2000 Mexicans were killed or wounded, and perhaps an equal number deserted. Nearly 700 prisoners were taken. The loss of two excellent officers meant still more, perhaps. Intrenching implements needed at Chapultepec were lost. The want of coöperation among the Mexican generals and especially the total failure of the cavalry to meet expectations disheartened the capital. But the casualties in the little American army amounted to 124 killed and 582 wounded. The confidence of the officers, if not the men, in their leaders faltered at the evident mistakes of Scott and Worth. Each of those generals blamed the other, and the discord between them, which reached down to the private soldier, became worse than ever. No American could find satisfaction in a barren victory gained with such difficulty and at such a cost; and the Mexicans, believing we had aimed to accomplish far more, exulted over their imaginary triumph. Scott faced the situation with unshaken fortitude, but those who knew him intimately saw that he felt anxious.[6]
THE GREAT PROBLEM
However, the great problem before them soon occupied the minds of all. Mexico, lying on a very slight elevation or swell, could be entered on its western side by the garita of San Cosme and at the southwest by the garita of Belén, to each of which led a causeway from the fortified hill of Chapultepec, about a mile and a half southwest of Belén. From this garita a second causeway ran south about an equal distance to the picturesque chapel of La Piedad, where it was crossed by one extending eastwardly from Tacubaya to the San Antonio or Acapulco highway, which—it will be recalled—led south to Churubusco and San Agustín. Not far north of the latter junction and about a mile from the city proper stood the garita of San Antonio; while, intermediate between the San Antonio and the Piedad routes, the Niño Perdido causeway, coming from San Angel, connected with Niño Perdido garita, which stood at the edge of the city. Finally, a road leading nearly east from San Antonio gateway conducted one to La Viga garita and La Viga canal, a deep and broad waterway, which, since it could not well be bridged in the face of the enemy, practically bounded Scott’s field of operations. There were thus four garitas—Belén, Niño Perdido, San Antonio and La Viga in this order from west to east—each guarding an approach to the capital from the south.[7]
Scott’s expectation was to break the south front, and after the armistice ended, his engineers, assisted to some extent by himself and a Mexican officer in his pay, reconnoitred it actively and boldly except on the forenoon of the eighth. Had it been feasible to strike immediately on the resumption of hostilities, the enemy’s lines would have been found poorly fortified and armed. But this could not well be done with Santa Anna’s principal forces menacing our flank; the American army was not yet in position; and Scott desired first of all to destroy El Molino. After the battle of the eighth half of his troops imperatively required a breathing space. The wounded had to be given attention. The army still needed to be placed. It was necessary to protect hospitals, baggage and stores—especially since Governor Olaguíbel and about 700 militia, supposed by Americans to be Alvarez with his two divisions, were approaching the rear, and according to reports Valencia had 8000 men in that vicinity. Moreover Scott’s information was not complete. The eighth of September, following the twentieth of August, had proved the danger of rashness; and the fresh losses made extreme caution absolutely necessary. Finally, Scott felt a suspicion that the Mexicans expected and wished him to attack their apparently unfinished works covering the south front.[8]
On the morning of the eleventh he inspected these once more, and then had a conference of generals and engineers at La Piedad. It was a solemn gathering. Before them lay the fortified capital of Mexico, a hopeful army of perhaps 15,000, a good equipment of artillery, nearly 700 trained gunners, and a large population, somewhat disillusioned, but excited and vengeful; and in view of the American situation it was essential, as the commander-in-chief clearly indicated, to strike a vital blow at once.[9]
But where? Point by point Scott fully and fairly stated the case: at the southwest the mighty porphyritic hill of Chapultepec to carry, but a clear problem, hard ground, excellent places for batteries, Huger’s opinion that in one day the fortified college on the top of the hill could be demolished, in the event of success a position from which to operate freely, and at least a possibility that, after losing what was commonly deemed its key, Mexico would listen to terms; on the southern front marshes, inundations, large ditches full of water everywhere, causeways already cut by the enemy, bridges destroyed, a topography that made rear and flank attacks impossible, an extensive series of well-planned and well-armed fortifications crossing their fires and commanding one another, and an enemy apparently eager to have the attack made here. Scott, while disclaiming any wish to influence the judgment of others, pronounced frankly for Chapultepec.[9]
Then one of the engineers—a tall, handsome young man, with a positive chin, a strong nose, a dark, closely trimmed mustache, dark hair clustering above his ears, and a fresh, clear color in his face—stood up and reported crisply on the work of reconnoitring. His name was Robert E. Lee, and he recommended approaching by the southern front. Three other engineers concurred with him. Four generals, doubtless influenced by these experts, took the same view. Twiggs and Riley inclined the other way. The fifth engineer present was then called upon, and he—Beauregard—in a long, technical statement argued for the Chapultepec route. Pierce changed his opinion. A silence followed; and then Scott, drawing up his magnificent figure to its full height, announced in his grand way: “Gentlemen, we will attack by the western gates. The general officers present here will remain for further orders—the meeting is dissolved.” And so the die was cast.[10]
CHAPULTEPEC
The preparation of Chapultepec for defence had begun in May, and Santa Anna had insisted upon it as of the “highest importance”; but want of money hindered and at times checked operations. During the armistice a little progress was made, and September 9, under the direction of a competent engineer and of the President himself, the work began in earnest. But alterations in plan, a lack of implements, a shortage of materials, the general confusion and the want of time naturally made thoroughness impossible. Chapultepec was therefore a fort but not really a fortress. It stood alone, too, without the supporting positions that a fortress must have; and shot and shell could penetrate the defences of the college on the summit of the hill almost everywhere. Even the parapets were not ready; and instead of the 2000 men required for an adequate garrison of the buildings and works, only a few hundreds occupied them. Their elevation merely hindered approach—not assault—and artillery could largely offset that advantage. To hold the grove was essential, for without it the garrison above could not obtain supplies or even water; and here the want of adequate defences had a still worse effect, since large forces could not be protected against artillery.[11]