Source:Fleming-deserters/content
THE excerpts in last Sunday’s Gazette Times from the journal of Robert H. Kelly, Sr., bugler of the “Hibernian Greens” of Pittsburgh in the Mexican War, left the Second Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers, in which the “Greens” served as Company I, bivouacked on the beach at Vera Cruz the night of March 9, 1847. The troops slept on their arms. Prof. Kelly proceeds:
About 3 o’clock in the morning we were startled by a quick and heavy fire of musketry and the balls whistled about us. In a moment every man was upon his feet and in his place ready to execute any orders that might be given. The alarm was caused by the pickets of the enemy and ours coming in contact, but after two or three rounds the enemy was driven back and it was quiet again and the men, one by one, again sought repose.
At daybreak all were in readiness to take up the line of march to surround the city. The troops continued landing all night. The steamers Spitfire and Vixea passed down near the castle and commenced throwing shells and round shot at the city and castle which was warmly responded to by both.
About 8 o’clock we started on our march around the sandhills, each man equipped with his knapsack, haversack, canteen, musket, cartridge box, etc., which was quite a burden to carry on a good road and was now rendered almost impossible by the hills of sand we were obliged to climb and cut our way through the chaparral and under the scorching rays of a tropical sun and without water and in range of the enemy’s guns which kept incessantly firing upon us, but without effect.
We had several skirmishes this day. Took the magazine with a large quantity of ammunition. We converted the magazine into a hospital. We were now every day and night kept busy digging trenches, planting batteries, filling bags with sand, etc., until the 22d.
Arduous service this. The “Greens,” and in fact the other volunteers were green troops, “rookies” they are called now. Hence the details mentioned by Prof. Kelly. All was new and strange to them.
Up to March 22 Gen. Scott’s army had not fired a single gun, being unable to land batteries, horses and equipment on account of a severe norther which continued to rage until that day.
The journal continues:
On the evening of the 22nd Gen. Worth opened his battery and returned the fire of the enemy, which had been constantly kept up since the morning of the 10th.
On the morning of the 24th the marine battery opened, and with great effect. The bombardment having fairly commenced, now continued until the 26th, when the enemy sent out a flag of truce. Gen. Scott would listen to nothing but an unconditional surrender of both city and castle. On the morning of the 29th the enemy marched out in the presence of our victorious army and stacked their arms and were permitted to march off where they pleased, unharmed.
This was a very inspiring sight. All the troops of both city and castle marching away from their city and, as they looked back, they could see the stars and stripes floating in triumph over their city, castle and the various fortifications. A salute was fired by the fleet and army at this time.
On the 30th we entered the city and passed several houses on our march that presented a fearful sight from the effects of our batteries, houses and churches plainly showing that the shot and shell thrown into the city were not sent in vain. Dead horses and mules were seen in almost every street.
We all now expected peace to be declared immediately after this victory, having lost but 17 men, but in this we were deceived.
April 8 took up our line of march for Jalapa, 80 miles distant, marching about 18 miles the first day over a sand road in the scorching rays of the sun, carrying our knapsacks, etc., which caused many to sink under the fatigue and go back. Others threw away their knapsacks and by this means were enabled to keep up. The next day we were permitted to put our knapsacks in the wagons, which greatly facilitated our march.
We found water to be very scarce and very bad, causing diarrhoea to a great extent. On the 12th we arrived at the Plan del Rio, under the heights of Cerro Gordo, where the enemy were very strongly fortified. We were ordered that night to have three days’ provisions in our haversacks and be ready to march at 3 in the morning. This order, however, was countermanded.
Plan del Rio is in English the “Plain of the River” and Cerro Gordo the “Broad Mountain,” the latter long since a common geographical designation for many towns in the United States, some of them situate on the prairie. So much for the significance of words.
We have examples of this lack of fitness in Pittsburgh street names. Peralta, for instance, the Latin word for lofty—whereas that North Side street is very low; but there is reason for Cerro Gordo—those two Spanish words stand for victory, a victory in which Pittsburgh soldiers participated. But we have no Cerro Gordo street.
Bugler Kelly continues:
The next evening the same order was given, and again countermanded. Gen. Scott now came up, and Gen. Worth, when the position was carefully reconnoitered. On the 17th Gen. Twiggs advanced by a circuitous route, and after some hard fighting succeeded in gaining his position.
The next morning, Sunday the 18th, we started for the scene of action, under the command of Gen. Pillow, who had detailed me to sound the charge as soon as all were ready. We were to be the supporting party for the First Regiment. After marching to the heights we struck off the main road to the left into a dense thicket, and after marching about one mile over rocks, through chaparral and brush, not knowing where we were, the enemy discovered us and opened a heavy fire on us. We, however, pushed steadily on, headed by our gallant colonel, facing the constant fire, when Gen. Pillow called to me to sound the charge, and then our boys let out the yell and went into them, which was no sooner done, when they let their whole force loose upon us and the roar of musketry and cannon which followed surpassed all conception.
The colonel of the Second Pennsylvania Regiment was William B. Roberts of Uniontown, who died shortly afterward from disease caused by the climate, and was succeeded by Lieut. Col. John W. Geary.
Gen. Pillow, commanding the brigade,, was the nortorious [sic] Gideon J. Pillow of Tennessee, who became a major general in the Confederate army and was second in command at Fort Donelson when U. S. Grant took that fort. Pillow’s dastardly conduct there ended his military career. Pillow’s brigade in Mexico was composed of the two Pennsylvania regiments and two from Tennessee—all volunteers.
Kelly says:
At length we were ordered to halt when the enemy had ceased firing. When we were formed (reformed after the charge) they had surrendered and Santa Anna “vamoosed.” We had taken 5,000 prisoners and a number of officers, among them Gen. La Vega. These were all discharged on parole. We destroyed all their guns and ammunition and marched on the morning of June 20 for Jalapa, three days after the battle.
The sights that were presented to our eyes on the road I shall not attempt to describe. On almost every yard of the road, dead men, horses, mules and dogs in a most horrible state of putrefaction were to be seen and the hills in the immediate vicinity of the enemy’s batteries were covered with the dead and the dying.
Prof. Kelly wrote that the impurity of the air caused by these rotting bodies made it almost impossible for them to breathe. He continues:
We passed through Jalapa on the morning of June 21 to “Camp Misery,” three miles beyond this city, and remained until the ⸻ day of May, when we marched into the city to garrison it, Col. Thomas Childs acting as governor.
On the evening of June ⸻ we marched for Puebla and camped that evening at “Camp Misery” and arrived at Perote on the ⸻, where we remained until ⸻, the troops here now being under the command of Gen. Cadwallader. On the morning of the ⸻ we marched off and arrived that evening at Tepeyahualco very much fatigued, and remained here for several days. We entered the city of Puebla July 8.
Prof. Kelly has left some dates blank, having evidently written his journal while in the City of Mexico, where he tells us he procured the book in which he wrote at the citadel.
Tepeyahualco was a typical Mexican town. Oswandel says it was a town made of mud houses.
A. G. Brackett, historian of Lane’s Expedition, in which Gen. Alexander Hays served, says the place consisted of a few adobe houses, a plaza and a stone church, but the people had deserted the place when Gen. Lane reached it in October, 1847, and his men tore down all the wooden parts of the houses to build fires.
This name is not Spanish, evidently Aztec or original Indian.
Prof. Kelly continues:
On the evening of July 5, I was handed two letters, per Capt. Guthrie, who was then encamped three miles in our rear. We remained in this city (Puebla) for one month.
On August 8 we started for the capital. On the evening of August 10 encamped at the Rio Frio and passed a very wet, cold and uncomfortable night. The next day we passed over the mountain and entered the valley and encamped at a large hacienda at Buena Vista where a member of Company H was killed by a Mexican in a cornfield.
This Buena Vista was not Gen. Zachary Taylor’s battle ground. The words, which are pure Spanish, signifying “fine view,” are common in Mexico. Rio Frio translated is the “Cold River.”
Pillow’s division, in which the “Hibernian Greens” of Pittsburgh were serving, was the rear of Scott’s Army, the cavalry in the advance. For the first day out of Puebla the route lay through a richly cultivated country, and the estates of wealthy proprietors who had surrounded themselves with every luxury.
Pittsburghers who have traveled from Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico can attest the grandeur of the scenery. The towering peaks of Popocatapetl [sic], more than three miles in height, and its neighbor, Istaccihuatle [sic], were in plain view, the ruins also of the Aztec pyramid of Cholula, where Cortez had found a city of 200,000 people. Verily, the Pittsburgh soldiers were passing through a historic region.
The Rio Frio is 50 miles from Puebla, and its elevation 10,122 feet above sea level. A few miles beyond the enchanting vision of the Valley of Mexico opened on their astonished vision. Prof. Kelly says nothing of this. His is a strictly military record.
Prof. Kelly says the Army was obliged to remain at the hacienda of Buena Vista until the enemy’s positions could be reconnoitered. The United States troops were in a populous country surrounded by enemies who might have risen en masse and crushed them. The Mexicans were in a state of great activity, making provision for defence. Prof. Kelly will tell how they were defeated.
Finding it impossible to pass El Penon, a lofty hill commanding the main thoroughfare to the city, Kelly says the troops struck off to the left and wound around Lake Chalco to avoid the enemy’s batteries and enter the city at another point.
Kelly writes:
Our design being discovered, the road which at best was almost impassable was rendered much worse by the enemy’s rolling large rocks down the mountain and into the road, but steadily and perservingly [sic] our gallant army made its way over all these formidable obstacles for 40 miles, although we were only 12 from the city, when we struck off the direct road.
The train was in the following order: First, Gen. Worth’s division; second, Gen. Pillow’s; third, Gen. Quitman’s; fourth, Gen. Twiggs’; reaching over 10 miles in length.
The men were obliged to build bridges at several places and their progress was slow over the ridges and valley of lava which abound in this region.
The army arrived at San Augustine August 18, 1847.
We were left here to guard the whole train which was momentarily expected to be attacked by a body of the enemy’s lancers and infantry numbering 5,000 or 6,000.
The battle of Contreras commenced on the 19th and continued all day. On the morning of the 20th we were ordered to march for the scene of action. Every man was immediately equipped for the march, some five miles from San Augustine. After marching about half the distance we were met by an express (courier )informing us that victory had again perched upon the Stars and Stripes. We countermarched and returned to our camp.
Contreras was a strongly fortified hill. This victory was one of the most remarkable of Scott’s army and opened one road into the city if all the others remained closed.
Prof. Kelly goes on:
Gen. Worth immediately followed the defeated enemy and found that they had made a stand at Churubusco and were very strongly fortified; but after a very severe and bloody conflict on both sides our arms were again victorious, taking at each engagement numerous prisoners, arms, artillery and ammunition.
Churubusco was a complete rout for the Mexicans and put the capital within the grasp of Scott’s army. Prof. Kelly next relates one of the most remarkable episodes of the war. He says:
At Churubusco we took nearly 100 American deserters. Among them was the famous Riley. On the morning of the 8th of September we marched for San Angel, a few miles distant. We remained here until the evening of the 11th, anxiously awaiting orders. We were now within full sight of the city and castle, and the most intense anxiety prevailed in the breast of every individual to see the result of our next battle, knowing it would be the final stroke to our entering the capital.
On the morning of the 10th, 16 of the unfortunate deserters paid the penalty of their crime (imposed upon them by court martial) upon the gallows, all being hanged at once on the same gallows at 7 o’clock. A number were flogged and branded, among them Riley. The scene was awful, but no symptom of pity nor compassion was manifested by any one for their unfortunate fate. The next morning six more were hanged upon the same gallows. That evening we took up the march for Tacubaya, three miles distant, and at the base of Chapultepec.
These deserters were fierce fighters. Riley, their commander, had been a sergeant in the United States service. His battalion of these deserters fought for the Mexicans like demons operating a battery at Churubusco, but they were all captured or killed. When the terrified Mexicans would raise the white flag in token of surrender, Riley would strike it down. The reason he was not hanged was that he had deserted before war was declared and not in the face of the enemy. He, and all who had deserted before the war were given 100 lashes each and branded with the letter D on the cheek.
Riley had the hardihood to bring suit against the government in the United States Court in Cincinnati for $50,000 damages. His case was thrown out of court.
Jacob J. Oswandel, historian of the First Pennsylvania Volunteers in Mexico, describes these hangings which were in full view of the whole army. He says 40 more were hanged subsequently.
