At the recent reception of the Missouri volunteers under Col. Doniphan at St. Louis, the address of welcome was delivered by Mr. Senator Benton. The speech is characteristic—exhibiting that clear and graphic narrative and those strong and concentrated expressions for which the Senator is remarkable.
The orator gave an outline of the long march of this gallant regiment—first, a thousand miles to New Mexico, which became a starting point of a new departure. Then Chihuahua was aimed at—Chihuahua, a rich and populous city of nearly thirty thousand souls, the seat of the government of the state of that name, and formerly the residence of the Captains General of the Internal Provinces under the vice-regal government. In advancing towards Chihuahua the adventurous regiment encountered incredible hardships. They passed over the desert called el jornada de los muertos—the journey of the dead—an arid plain of ninety miles strewed with the bones of animals perished of hunger and thirst and marked by continual mementos of men who had fallen victims to the perilous way. They fought the enemy at the Bracito, and gained a decisive victory although opposed by superior numbers strong in cavalry and artillery. Again at Sacramento the intrepid band fought and conquered a vastly superior force. Mr. Benton calls that victory “one of the military marvels of the age.” At length Chihuahua is reached and taken; and there the bold adventurers must pause to determine which way next they shall direct their steps. They had occupied a city about as far from St. Louis as Moscow is from Paris. Let Col. Benton’s graphic narrative be heard:
“Chihuahua gained, it became, like Santa Fe, not the terminating point of a long expedition, but the beginning point of a new one. Gen. Taylor was somewhere—no one knew exactly where—but some seven or eight hundred miles towards the other side of Mexico. You had heard that he had been defeated—that Buena Vista had not been a good prospect to him. Like good Americans you did not believe a word of it; but like good soldiers, you thought it best to go and see. A volunteer party of fourteen, headed by Collins of Boonville, undertake to penetrate to Saltillo, and to bring you information of his condition. They set out. Amidst innumerable dangers they accomplish their purpose; and return. You march. A vanguard of one hundred men, led by Lieut. Colonel Mitchell, led the way. Then came the main body, (if the name is not a burlesque on such a handful,) commanded by Col. Doniphan himself.
“The whole table land of Mexico, in all its breadth, from west to east, was to be traversed. A numerous and hostile population in towns—treacherous Cumanches in the mountains—were to be passed. Every thing was to be self-provided—provisions, transportation, fresh horses for remounts, and even the means of victory—and all without a military chest, or even an empty box, in which government gold had ever reposed. All was accomplished. Mexican towns were passed, in order and quiet: plundering Cumanches were punished: means were obtained from traders to liquidate indispensable contributions: and the wants that could not be supplied, were endured like soldiers of veteran service.
“I say the Cumanches were punished. And here presents itself an episode of a novel, extraordinary, and romantic kind—Americans chastising savages for plundering people who they themselves came to conquer, and forcing the restitution of captives and of plundered property. A strange story this to tell in Europe, where back-woods character, western character, is not yet completely known. But to the facts. In the muskeet forest of the Bolson de Mapimi, and in the sierras around the beautiful town and fertile district of Parras, and in all the open country for hundreds of miles round about, the savage Cumanches have held dominion ever since the usurper Santa Anna disarmed the people; and sally forth from their fastnesses to slaughter men, plunder cattle, and carry off women and children. An exploit of this kind had just been performed on the line of the Missourians’ march, not far from Parras, and an advanced party chanced to be in that town at the time the news of the depredation arrived there. It was only fifteen strong. Moved by gratitude for the kind attentions of the people, especially the women, to the sick of General Wool’s command, necessarily left in Parras, and unwilling to be outdone by enemies in generosity, the heroic fifteen, upon the spot, volunteered to go back, hunt out the depredators, and punish them, without regard to numbers. A grateful Mexican became their guide. On their way they fell in with fifteen more of their comrades; and, in short time, seventeen Cumanches killed out of sixty-five, eighteen captives restored to their families, and three hundred and fifty head of cattle recovered for their owners, was the fruit of this sudden and romantic episode.
“Such noble conduct was not without its effect on the minds of the astonished Mexicans. An official document from the Prefect of the place to Captain Reid, leader of this detachment, attests the verity of the fact, and the gratitude of the Mexicans; and constitutes a trophy of a new kind in the annals of war. Here it is in the original Spanish, and I will read it off in English.
“It is officially dated from the Prefecture of the Department of Parras, signed by the Prefect Jose Ignacio Arrabe, and addressed to Capt. Reid, the 18th of May, and says:
“‘At the first notice that the barbarians, after killing many, and taking captives, were returning to their haunts, you generously and bravely offered, with fifteen of your subordinates, to fight them on their crossing by the Pozo, executing this enterprise with celerity, address and bravely worthy of all eulogy, and worthy of the brilliant issue which all celebrate. You recovered many animals and much plundered property; and eighteen captives were restored to liberty and to social enjoyments, their souls overflowing with a lively sentiment of joy and gratitude, which all the inhabitants of this town equally breathe, in favor of their generous deliverers and their valiant chief. The half of the Indians killed in the combat, and those which fly wounded, do not calm the pain which all feel for the wound which your excellency received defending christians and civilized beings against the rage and brutality of savages. All desire the speedy re-establishment of your health; and although they know that in your own noble soul will be found the best reward of your conduct, they desire also to address you the expression of their gratitude and high esteem. I am honored in being the organ of the public sentiment, and pray you to accept it, with the assurance of my most distinguished esteem.
“‘God and Liberty!’”
“This is a trophy of a new kind in war, won by thirty Missourians, and worthy to be held up to the admiration of christendom.”