Source:Fleming-sidelights/content
LAST Sunday's story told of the Robinson plan of lots known as the Buena Vista plan, on the North Side, and the Spanish-Mexican names of streets in that plan.
These names, commemorating victories over the Mexicans in the War of 1846–48, in their consideration open up a wide field of history, largely national in scope, but with a local phase from the circumstances of the naming and the survey of the Buena Vista plan by Alexander Hays, civil engineer of Pittsburgh, who had fought in the Mexican War and who attained fame during the Civil War, 1861–65, as Brevet Maj. Gen. Alexander Hays, killed May 5, 1864, at the opening of the Battle of the Wilderness, Va.
All of the pertinent matter of this Buena Vista plan street history, following the general plan of these articles, in regard to the names Palo Alto, Resaca, Monterey and Buena Vista, applied to streets and Taylor to an avenue in honor of Gen., later President Zachary Taylor, could not be told in several articles of this length. Much will have to be supplied by references to the many histories of that eventful period.
Some rare ones long out of print and only found occasionally among the Americana of second-hand book shops, have been consulted. These books furnish much interesting history printed at the time of the war and immediately after it.
They also contain some old time prints of scenes and portraits of prominent actors of the Mexican War days.
It is curious how history repeats itself. The independence of Texas, acknowledged by the United States, England, France and other nations and maintained for upward of 10 years, was never acknowledged by Mexico. Though the annexation of Texas was followed by an immediate rupture between this country and Mexico, there were other and long continued causes for the war.
Mexico became independent of Spain in 1821 and the republican form of government was established in 1824. Troubles began immediately with the United States.
Frequent changes of rulers in Mexico gave opportunity for new outrages and remitted the responsibility for old ones.
The treaty of amity, commerce and navigation of 1831 was a good sample of a scrap of paper made to be broken.
President Jackson, in his last year of office, declared in a message to Congress that despite the treaty the injuries and insults continued and increased, rather than diminished, and that they would justify, in the eyes of all nations, immediate war.
Still the war held off, "watchful waiting" was having its first inning.
By 1840 the value of property belonging to Americans that had been destroyed ammounted [sic] to more than $6,000,000.
After eight years Congress realized that a final demand must be made for redress. This resulted in the fairest promises by the Mexican government—extorted promises mainly.
Ampudia brought on hostilities early in 1846 resulting in the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma in May of that year.
As early as July, 1845, President Polk had ordered Gen. Zachary Taylor, then in command of the United States troops in the Southwest, to go to Texas and take a position as near the Rio Grande as possible—that is, as prudent.
Previous to July, 1845, a small American force was stationed at Camp Salubrity, near the old town of Natchitoches, La. On graduation from the United States Military Academy, July 1, 1844, Alexander Hays was assigned to Company K of the Fourth Infantry, U. S. A., as brevet second lieutenant. Here he remained until the forces at Camp Salubrity were ordered to Texas via New Orleans.
Mrs. Martha Black, long a resident of Sewickley, was the third daughter of Gen. Alexander and Annie A. McFadden Hays. Mrs. Black died recently. She had some letters from her father, among them one from Camp Salubrity prior to the Mexican War.
This letter is dated January, 1845, and was written to Gen. John S. McCalmont, later Judge McCalmont of the Venango–Mercer–Clarion judicial district.
The Camp Salubrity letter is most intersting [sic]. Alexander Hays was passionately fond of flowers. He was accustomed to mail home specimens from the battlefields and some of these have been preserved.
While this letter does not deal with any facts pertaining to the battles whose names are commemorated in our North Side streets, it does give us a good description of camp life during the days of watchful waiting in 1845–46.
"Syd" Smith was second lieutenant of Company B, Fourth Infantry, the company commander being Capt. Robert C. Buchanan. Smith was a daredevil. He was the chum of Grant later and a messmate of Cadmus M. Wilcox in the subsequent campaign in Mexico. Capt. George W. Allen is referred to as "a jolly old cock" in the Addisonian sense as a leader.
The letter and its notations are as follows, the quotation unique:
ALEXANDER HAYS TO JOHN S. McCALMONT, ESQ.
"Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul!
Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society!
I owe thee much."Camp Salubrity, near Natchitoches, La.
January 5th, 1845.
Dear John:
I am afraid I also owe thee something, due a month ago; but I hope you will be satisfied to take my acknowledgment for the interest, and this for the principal, without subjecting me to the penance of further apology.
You will scarcely be able to find my place of address in any modern gazette, nevertheless, if you will permit your fancy to roam down "The Father of Waters" and up Red River, as far as Natchitoches, and then, if tired, permit it to take horse—after fifteen minutes canter, you will find yourself in Camp Salubrity—consisting in two rows of buildings—on the one side of two, each 250 feet long, the quarters of the rank and file of the 4th Infantry—and on the other, of numerous small shanties, as different in style of architecture, as are the tastes of the occupants, the officers of the Regiment aforesaid.
I cannot say much, in favor of our Camp, nevertheless, it bears a very appropriate title, for this region of country. Sickness is almost obsolete idea amongst us and we possess the best spring of water in Louisiana, in fact the only water fit to drink. The Camp is situated upon a long sandy ridge covered with pines, interspersed with hickories, from which the undergrowth has been cleared away, to give space. At night the meetings, and presents no insignificant spectacle. In the vicinity, there is every species of forest tree, including the glorious magnolia, and in proper season, the ground is almost completely covered with every variety of flower, even now, in the dead of winter, they are by no means rare.
The climate, with little exception, is truly delightful, resembling the Indian summer of the North, but without the cold. Sometimes, but rarely, there is frost at night, and when that is accompanied with dampness, it would make a Laplander shake himself into an ague fit. I have never suffered so much from cold as I did upon a particularly damp morning, such as I have attempted to describe—clothing appeared to be of no manner of use. At the present date the weather is rather uncomfortably sultry, so much so that a sniff of Venango frost would be very acceptable, as it might possibly paralyze, for a time, the cursed swarms of fleas, ticks and bedbugs which infest us in and out of doors.
During the first part of my sojourn we all suffered severely from a very small "red bug" so minute as to be almost imperceptible, until their location was indicated by the pain arising from their penetration of the skin—many of the men were disabled from duty by them, having their legs excoriated to the knees, for which there was neither preventative nor remedy.
Our military duty consists in attendance on roll calls and maching [sic] on guard once in two weeks. I am now writing in the guard house, without fire, with windows and doors all open. When not detailed for duty I go where I please unquestioned, and at all times by asking permission. I have for a captain one of the jolliest old cocks in the service. Almost the first order he gave me was to get a bucksin [sic] coat and a pony as soon as possible. He is a major by brevet for "meritious services" and his name is Allen, a descendant of old Ethan—probably you have heard of him before. I have procured the coat and pony, as ordered, and a pair of bucksin [sic] breeches besides, and we have taken some glorious hunts together, extending sometimes to a week. I love the old coon already "like a vera brother"—eat, drink and sleep with him.
We spend the greater portion of our time either hunting or fishing, and I have just "completed an engagement" to go out in the morning at 4 o'clock with Porter for deer. We are scarcely rested from a four days' hunt, which he took with me at Spanish Lake in company with Syd Smith. In the four days mentioned we killed upward of 200 geese and ducks. My first expedition to the lake nearly cost me my life on account of my ignorance of the place. I lost my way and was obliged to wade through mud up to my middle for at least three miles, bogging fast, for 15 minutes at a time, and stumbling over an alligator-gar almost every step. I finally reached "terra firma," but curse me if I killed a single duck that day.
The lake (I mean Spanish, for there are hundreds of others), is about four miles from our camp and abounds in myriads of water fowl, of every genus and species. More Frenchmen find death upon its borders than any other place in the country. We are advised not to frequent is [sic] so much, but as yet have experienced no inconvenience from its miasmas and exhalations, although camping out and sleeping upon the bare ground. On the contrary, from feeling any bad effects, I gained 10 pounds in flesh during one expedition there.
The view from the lake shore is truly gorgeous, reminding one of the Eastern scenes as shown in dioramas, all that is wanting to make the picture perfect is the hippopotamus plunging in the river and the elephant browsing upon the banks—the alligator already is there, sometimes making the shores resound with their hideous bellowings until a "green 'un" would think "hell is empty and all the devils are here." The reeds grow throughout the whole expanse, taller than the head of a man, and their tufts afford the only secure footing—woe to the poor devil, who, like I, attempts to cross the open spaces. Across the lake the view is closed by forests of the magnolia, thrown in strong relief against an ever-bright sky, contrasting strikingly with the dark green foliage and the silver sheet below.
In all the bayous which intersect the country in every direction, there is abundance of fish, and by riding a short distance we can catch a mess of trout or bass at any time. By riding to Natchitoches, we can witness a horse race almost any day, and occasionally the Spaniards get up a bull fight.
At night there is a "Fandango" in almost every house where you have only to pull off your coat, and roll up your sleeves for an introduction and then "go your death." Besides the Fandangos there are regular balls, patronized by all the wealth and aristrocracy [sic] of the country. I have attended several in company with others and for fun and frolic I have never witnessed any thing to compare with them. Although the ladies were the choice of the land, intelligent and accomplished, there was neither ceremony or reserve upon their part, while at the same time, there is nothing permitted that the most fastidious stickler for etiquette could take exception to. Some of the ladies are beautiful and all are rich and the poor "Subs" find great favor in their eyes—O Lord, such eyes! they would make an anchorite forswear himself and consign his soul to eternal perdition. If our unmarried ones do not "feather their nest" it will not be the fault of the Creole girls. It is believed some of them have done so already, and the remainder are expecting a glorious blow-out on the accasion [sic] of the ratification of the bonds.
As for your friend and humble servant, I believe he cannot be mortally pierced, with such a quantity of breast plates as he left behind, but I must confess he too has been slightly wounded, not with a hundred thousand dollars worth of cotton lands and niggers as the others have been, but with the bright eyes and singing laugh of a little orphan girl.
There is to be a ball at Grand Ecore on January 8 to which I already have "an invite" as the natives term it. The last we had there was on a Saturday and when we left about sunrise Sunday morning, the natives were still "going it" as fresh as ever. Very few of the ladies speak English well, and it is gloriously bewitching to have them attempt a compliment in broken English tipped with French or Spanish. Taking the Creole girls all round, they are a darling set, and of nowhere can it be so truly said as of Western Louisiana that "The soil are rich and the ladies am fertile."
I know you think strange I have nothing to say concerning the girls at home, but if I have not, like the Irishman's parrot, I keep a devil of a thinking. I have not forgotten them and wish to be remembered. I wish, when you write, you would give me a long account of them, particularly of Lyd and Ruth—their prospects and who goes it strongest there.
I have come to the settled determination after mature consideration to leave the army in two years, at farthest, unless there is a necessity for my remaining, at present not apparent. I never will be able as I once purposed to study a profession here, but will nevertheless leave and trust to fortune. You are no doubt aware of the state of my feelings upon the subject, and that I do not leave on account of disgust for the service, but because I believe it will promote my happiness in the end. On the contrary from being disgusted, I am now enjoying myself better than I ever did before—have made friends of all, and probably will never be able to hold as good a standing in any community as I now do in the Fourth Infantry. I have, however, a plan of happiness that can never be perfected in the army.
Judge McCalmont knew something of army life on the border, and it is not strange then that the young lieutenant, Hays, should become confidential and tell his boyhood friend of happenings in the well grounded belief that the information would go no father. Lieut. Hays acknowledged there were some wild spirits in camp, and names two doubtless well known to the judge.
To acknowledge the truth, John, to you, which I would not voluntarily to another, some of us have reputations in the regiments stationed here, and in the vicinity, that would do us little credit at sober home. Seven or eight of us had a celebration in Natchitoches on Christmas and the succeeding day which took the natives by surprise, although they are not slow themselves. I cannot go into all the details of our proceedings, but among other things, still worse, we raised three or four "stampedes" in horse droves which we met. In one case Syd Smith and myself were sitting upon our horses where a large drove passed—without a word passing between us we both charged upon it and such a scatterment never was seen—the horses broke in all directions, bearing all down before them—women fainted and children screamed, and men cursed, but on we went. ⸻ tried to follow us, but being too far gone, he charged on on [sic] ox team by mistake, and nearly killed his horse.
Unfortunately the name of the gallant soul who charged the ox team cannot be deciphered. Who he was is not known, and his subsequent career must be imagined, but he was one of the old army, and strong in its traditionary habits—we can be sure of that.
January 1 was a day for turning new leaves even then. The letter concludes:
I set upon the first of January after that as the era of a moral reformation, and find it succeeds very well, but I must close now wishing you health and happiness in this world and the next.
Your sincere friend,
A. HAYS.
The endorsement on the back of the letter reads:
John S. McCalmont, Esq.
JOHN S. McCALMONT, ESQ.
Franklin, Venango County, Pennsylvania.Post Office
Natchitoches, La., Jan. 5If not in F⸺ McS⸺ will please forward.
A. H.
"McS." was evidently a friend in the Franklin (Pa.) postoffice, or perhaps the postmaster, who could be relied on.
While Gen. Taylor was at Corpus Christi Lieut. Hays came to Pittsburgh on furlough and was married to Annie A. McFadden, daughter of John B. McFadden, at the McFadden home in Penn avenue about opposite the Block House.
The date was February 19, 1846, and the officiating clergyman the Rev. Dr. Francis Herron of the First Presbyterian Church of Pittsburgh.
Writing to his brother, James P. Hays, from the steamer El Dorado, en route to New Orleans, under date March 16, 1846, young Lieut. Hays tells of events on the Coast and his arduous duties. He says:
I am uncertain where I shall be obliged to go until I reach New Orleans. I left my regiment at Corpus Christi but they have since received orders to march some wheres on the Rio Grande. The climate is unequalled and there is almost continual summer. At times the thermometer stands at 105 and 106 degrees, but the Gulf breeze has a tendency to overcome the excessive heat. Game, fish, flesh and fowl abound in myriads through all parts.
Altogether it is the greatest country under the sun. My recent sickness had no local cause but arose from excessive exposure alone. For two months I was confined to the hospital with fever and serious apprehensions were entertained for my recovery.
I would like to give you some account of our landing and passage to the interior but will not have space I fear. Previous to going there, I had been put upon extra duty for some time, and after we arrived, the old general made it permanent by selecting me for every expedition; sometimes acting as captain of a steamboat; sometimes skipper of a yawl. On another occasion I was sent to purchase cattle for "Uncle Sam." I had no money, only my sweet honest face and that three hundred miles from the army, and where I was totally unknown. I succeeded in obeying my orders, not without considerable difficulty and returned, after a month's absence, with eighty yoke, pronounced to have been "the finest lot of cattle ever collected." Without giving me any rest I was sent again and again, until finally, "exhausted nature could endure no more" and I was laid up.
I am now on my return I suppose to do the same things over again.
From Gen. Longstreet's chapter entitled "The Ante-Bellum Life of the Author" in his work "From Manassas to Appomattox" we learn that the Third and Fourth Infantry Regiments had been sent from Jefferson barracks, St. Louis, Mo., in May, 1844, two months previous to Alexander Hays' graduation from West Point.
The pictures shown today of Mexican scenes are typical of the period of which the above has been written.
The hacienda is usually a large estate where work of any kind is done, agricultural, manufacturing, mining or the raising of animals. The name is most frequently applied to an isolated farm and the farm house—substantially built as pictured.
Alexander Hays knew most of the characters whose portraits are shown and was one of those who accelerated Gen. Arista's flight at Resaca, capturing his headquarters and all his baggage.
Lieut. Blake figured in a daring act that evoked the admiration of the little army. Blake proposed to go forward alone and reconnoiter the enemy's line, but Lieut. Col. Duncan went along. They rode within 80 yards of the line.
Blake alighted from his horse, took out his glass and surveyed the whole line and then handed the glass to Duncan. Two Mexican officers rode out. Duncan at Blake's request drew a pistol on them and the two Mexicans halted.
Blake and his companion rode back unmolested, and reported. Scarcely had they done so when the enemy's batteries opened and the battle was on. The enemy had, as Blake reported, seven guns in one battery and five in another. Taylor had 10 pieces exposed to them.
The next day Blake was killed by the accidental discharge of his pistol. He was a native of Philadelphia and a lieutenant of the Topographical Engineers.
served in 1812. [sic]
William J. Worth was colonel of the Eighth United States Infantry, to which Lieut. Hays was later assigned. Gen. John E. Wool commanded one of Taylor's divisions afterward. He was a veteran of 1812 and served also in the Civil War, 1861–65. Worth also
Paredes was succeeded by the notorious Santa Anna as president of Mexico.
