A new factor now entered the military situation. About the middle of September GeneralLane, one of Taylor’s chief officers at Buena Vista, arrived at Vera Cruz from the Rio Grande, and on the nineteenth his brigade set out for the interior. Aware of the situation at Puebla but not aware what was to be encountered on the route, the General had not made adequate preparations, and on meeting guerillas at the national bridge he was obliged to send back for ammunition and supplies. By October 1, however, he managed to leave Jalapa.[13]
It was a hard march that ensued. Torrents of rain deluged the troops. Sometimes the road lay deep under water. For dinner they had a thin slice of beef, a couple ofand some coffee; for supper, after darkness fell upon them with tropical abruptness, the same without the beef; and perhaps mud for a couch. But Lane, a hearty westerner with a stout frame and unbounded vigor, led on unshrinkingly in his black hat and old blue overcoat, and the rest followed him eagerly. October 5, after incorporating additional troops at Perote, he left that place with a force of about 3300 and seven guns, and marched on across hot plains, where water sold for five dollars a drink, and men died of sheer fatigue.[13]
Santa Anna, informed by spies that 1000 Americans were approaching, and anxious, not only to prevent them from joining Childs, but still more to win the glory of routing them, had set out from Puebla four days earlier with perhaps 3500 men, leaving Rea to continue the fighting. Desertion played havoc with his command, especially when the strength of Lane’s force was ascertained; but, after sending back a large part of the faithful in order to keep control of them, he took possession of El Pinal, where the national highway passed between a precipitous mountain and a ravine, with about 1000 cavalry and six guns, and made preparations to ambush Lane’s rear. This done, he moved to Huamantla, a sizable town eight miles distant, and waited.[13]
THE FIGHT AT HUAMANTLA
Early on October 9 the drums and bugles awoke Lane’s troops at the hacienda of San Antonio Tamaris, approximately ten miles from Huamantla and twelve from El Pinal; and the men, leaping from the damp grass and buckling their muddy belts, found the white walls of the hacienda, the church towers of neighboring villages, the dark woods on the hillsides, and the distant, snowy peaks all aglow under a splendid sun. Never, perhaps, did soldiers feel more like having an adventure. Santa Anna had just marched from Huamantla to conceal his force at El Pinal, leaving behind him with no scouts or outposts his six guns, a very small guard for them and a party of irregulars; but a spy reported to the Americans that he was at Huamantla, and Lane moved off to attack him. First rode four mounted companies, and at their head a rather short, slender, spare, slouchy man, with reddish hair, a small reddish beard, mild blue eyes and a quiet, kindly manner, whom nobody would have picked out as a fearless, indomitable fighter, the scourge of the guerillas, but in fact he was Captain Walker; and then marched Lane with five guns and some 1800 men.[14]
When about three miles from their destination, Walker and his 200 cavalry, seeing a party of Mexican horse approach the town, dashed ahead. Entering Huamantla they formed in fours, and then with a yell, a flash of sabres and a thunder of hoofs they swept through to the plaza. The Mexicans had time to get four of the guns away, but the others were captured, and most of the American troopers, concluding their work had been finished, scattered to drink, loot or hunt for cannon and ammunition. But now Santa Anna, who had observed Lane’s movement from a church tower near El Pinal, appeared with his full command. They were a beautiful sight—galloping horses, red and green uniforms, brilliant pennons and a billowy sea of flashing lance points; but they were enemies, and the Americans accepted their challenge.[14]
“Take it cool, my boys, but run like the devil!” cried Lane. Every nerve was taxed. Blood gushed from nostrils. The Mexicans, lashing their steeds into foam, reached the goal first, however, and the American troopers found themselves attacked on all sides. Walker was shot from a house, and soon expired; but he lived long enough to give a final order: “Don't surrender boys; the infantry will soon be here.” And so they were—“with a shout and a bound,” said one of them. The tide was quickly turned, and giving up the town, as the soldiers loved to call Santa Anna, passed the night some distance away. So ended the Tale of Huamantla or The Biter Bitten, which received no little applause at the time.[14]
While these events were taking place, the garrison of Puebla continued to be hemmed in, starved and harassed. Their casualties numbered in all only fifty-two, but they felt severely the effect of so long a strain. Though a number of sorties were made, and their persecutors had to retire from several annoying positions, the Americans were not strong enough to do more. Their day of deliverance was approaching, however. October 10 Lane moved forward, dogged and somewhat annoyed by Santa Anna. Two days later his men saw the spires of Puebla, dominated by the sombre towers of the cathedral, and set off by white volcanoes veiled with clouds. And now and again the numberless bells of the city, great and small, pealed forth harmonious tones of many colors, that seemed to blend and interweave in rich and varied tapestries of sound, hung out in the mediaeval style to honor their triumphal approach.[15]
At about one o’clock, announced by the bells of Guadalupe, they entered the suburbs—not a few of them at a run. One column then advanced by the main street, while another flanked the town by the left. For two hours there was considerable firing from houses, though Rea’s guerillas had begun to leave their posts the night before; but at length Lane extended histo Childs, with a sunny smile on his rather hard features, and the garrison joyously welcomed their deliverers. In the main plaza a bugler playedand all sang the chorus:
“The star-spangled banner, Oh, long may it wave