# Notes of the Mexican war 1846-47-48/Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI.
The original settlers, or the most ancient natives now living in Mexico, are the Toltec, Chichimecos, and Aztec, although tradition tells us, and we have every reason to believe it is true, that there were older dwellers in Mexico than the red men.
Toltec, Aztec, etc., all credit the discovery of Mexico to the Northmen. Carthagenians, and Egyptians, long before the coming of Christ.
There are different theories about the Toltecs. Some have it that, in the year 472, others in 544, they were, on account of dissatisfaction with their ruler, expelled from their own country, called Tollan, lying off the north-eastern part of Mexico. After travelling and roaming through different parts of Mexico, they finally, in the year 600. came to a halt and settled themselves down and built themselves a town called Tula, lying about twenty-two leagues southeast of the city of
Their country, and in fact nearly their whole nation, was destroyed by a famine and other pestilence—destroying all their crops for the want of rain and by heavy frost. The destruction of life and property caused the monarchial government to end in 800. Some have it 959.
About this unfortunate time the Toltecs and their country (according to the accounts I could gather from their Mexican annals) were invaded by a nation called Cbicbimecos or Chichimecos. They came from the province of New Gallicia and parts of New Biscaya or Amaguemecan, a savage, barbarous tribe, and were, for their fierce, wicked, and wild nature, called Chichimecos.
The Chichimecos were tired of living in their wild, lonesome forest, in deep caves and underground, and moved, in about 960, out into the open air, and fell in large numbers into these southern parts of America now called Mexico—not all at once, but at different times, and under several names of tribes, viz., Suclimilica, Chalco, Tepejancan, Tezcocans, Tlascallinis, Otumtes, and other tribes that I can't just now think of. They had at that distressing time but little trouble to subdue the people and get possession of the desolated country of the ancient Toltecan they found in this land, and seated themselves in their places; and though at first every nation or tribe of them, as they came into this country, seized upon some province apart by themselves and held it, as it were, in sovereignty to themselves, without acknowledgment of any dependence or subjection to their neighbor or those that were there before them.
They were mostly divided into tribes or large families, going under the above names. Each tribe was governed by a chief of their own selection. They had no law or manner of government to guide themselves with, and, by reason thereof, were ​ continually at war with one another until 963,—some have it 1064,—when they elected Xolotli first king, Napoltzin the second king, and so on until the seventh tribe, Navatlancos, or Aztlancos (Aztecs) came from their country, then called Aztlan, now called New Mexico. They are the first original Mexicans. The time when the seven tribes of Aztlancos emigrated out of their country was, as their most ancient histories declare, in the year 940, and they arrived in the valley of Mexico in 1220, and founded Tenochitiltan, or Tenustitan—now Mexico—in 1324. It is said that they were like the Israelites, who spent over forty years in their journey and marched many miles, with a thousand inconveniences, from one country to another.
Being constantly at war with each other, they finally concluded to divide themselves. After this manner, four of these tribes marched on until they came to a spring of clear water, in which the fishes glittered like silver, and there encamped for the night. The other remaining tribes marched in another direction, and settled near the mountains and in the fertile valley called Tlascallian. The next morning the four tribes rose from their night's slumber, and their spirit-god, Witzilopochtli, or Viztliputlic, who was a kind of profeta (prophet) and bishop among their people, and who, after his death, was cut in the form from wood and worshipped as their devil idol god until the conquest of Mexico by Cortes. This idol god, Viztliputlic, informed his tribe of a dream he had that night, that they should find thereabouts a tunal tree, whose leaves grew out of one another, under which, on a stone, lay the heart of a famous sorcerer, Copil.
This tunal tree should be discovered by a crane on the top of it, which in one foot should hold a bird, and in the other a bough of the tree, near which they were to build a city. That city is now the city of Mexico.
After the old priest Viztliputli had related his dream, most of his tribe went tp work to endeavor to find out the forementioned tree. At last they found it, and saw on the top a ​crane with his outspread wings, holding in his claws a small bird with curious feathers, looking up towards the sun; whereupon the tribes with all speed went to work in 1325, and built a chapel, or teoculli, of turf and clods of earth, covered it with canes to keep their idol from the exposure of the weather, and at the same time promising him that they would sometime build him a splendid temple or teoculli (abode of the gods). In a few years afterward the Aztecs did build Temple Turrest, and many handsome houses in the city of Mexico. The temple was a magnificent and gigantic building. It measured at the base 375 feet by 300 feet, and was 80 feet in height. It commanded the four great highways, east, west, north and south, that led into the heart of the city. In fact, the whole structure was like a huge living serpent, dome-shaped and carved; and the doorway was through the jaws of the serpent, built inside with terraces from four to nine, connected with stairs in a circuit form from one story to another until it reached the summit, on top of which was a stone of sacrifice about 3 feet high. This temple was christened, and enshrined the two great national deities, viz., Witzilopochtli (or Viztliputlic) and Tezcatlipoca. The former was the celestial humming-bird, offspring of the sun and symbol of the Aztec people; Tezcatlipoca, the little humming-bird, or portable idol of the original wandering tribes, whose image was carried by the priest as he led the charge. After his (Tezcatlipoca) death, his statue was made of dark obsidian rock. His face was the face of a bear; his hair was plaited and inclosed in a golden net, and was worshipped as the god of the sun, which was their whole religion.
In 1353 they elected their first king over the whole tribes then encamped in the valley of Mexico. The king's name was Acampichtli. The king immediately entered upon his duty, and enlarged the city of Tenustitan (now Mexico) with fine houses, temples and a splendid palace (it is said) on the very spot where the National Palace or Halls of the Montezumas now stands; widening the streets and vast other improvement. ​In front of this temple and palace was a plaza 1200 feet square, surrounded by handsome residence of the priest, arsenal, storehouse, etc.
King Acampichtli reigned 37 years, when he died in 1390.
Huitzilihutli was the name of the second king elected. He reigned but 12 years; died in 1402.
Chimalpoqua (which, in the Indian language, means a gun which makes or gives smoke) was elected the third king with much dissatisfaction, against the will of the old native tribe called Tepejancan, or Tlacopans; and after he reigned 10 years, the people got so much displeased with his arbitrary way of ruling that they broke into his palace one night and murdered him in his chamber. This caused great excitement and much bitter feeling amongst the other heads of the nations or tribes. The Aztec, who became much demoralized and revolutionized, were a rude and cruel people, essentially warlike; their priests, bearing idols on their backs, marching in front and giving the signal for battle, calling themselves children of the sun. They were at war for several years, and were without a proper head to guide them, until Prince Mexi assumed command of a brave and powerful people; conquered the revolutionists, and bestowed peace and tranquility in the city Tenustitan.
The overthrow and downfall of the revolutionist was such a popular idea that the victorious tribes refused to elect any ruler over their tribes during the lifetime of Prince Mexi. They governed themselves by the act of their Councils until Prince Mexi's death, which was in 1423. Mexi not being of royal blood, was not, according to their rule, eligible to the throne; and to forever perpetuate his fair name, they changed the name of their country from Tenustitan to Mexico, in honor of Prince Mexi.
The revolutionist party, which was mostly composed of the Tepejancan and some few dissatisfied Tenustitans, soon left the city of Mexico and joined the Tlascallians, which afterwards became a powerful and much feared people by the Mexicans, After Prince Mexi's death, Ytzcoalt, or Iccoult, was chosen the ​fourth king. He was a great warrior, and being with Prince Mexi in conquering the revolutionists, raised a large and well disciplined army, armed with bows, arrows, spears, lances, etc., made a fierce war against the Tepejancan, Tlascallians, conquered them and made them submit to his own form of government. After a reign of thirteen years, he died in 1436, when his son Montezuma, first of that name, was chosen the fifth king. He was the first king that was mantled in tiger's skin.
In 1446 a powerful and heavy rain fell upon the valley of Mexico with such fury that nearly one-half of the city of Mexico was destroyed, and the streets flooded that the people were obliged to make their escape in boats, canoes, etc. Montezuma and his tribe, soon after it was dried up, went to work to build up that which was destroyed, and threw up big ditches. After having reigned twenty-eight years, he died in 1464.
Tizoc, or Tiocick, Montezuma's eldest son, was then chosen the sixth king. He, however, was unfortunate in all his designs and engagements with his enemies, lost more of his people in battle in battle than he took prisoners, and the result was the Tlascallians gained their independence from the Mexican rule. Being accused by his tribe of oppression and tyranny, of cowardice and of being incompetent, he was poisoned in the fourth year of his reign, 1468. Acayuca, or Acayacolt, Tiocick's brother, was then chosen the seventh king. He was generous, liberal, magnanimous and good to the poor. He built the first great temple or palace in the city of Mexico. He lived, in prosperity and peace with all the tribes in Mexico, to a good old age. After ruling over seventeen years, he departed this life, to the great sorrow of the whole Mexican Empire, in 1485.
After his death, Ahintzol, or Axayacolt, was chosen the eighth king. He was also a man of great magnanimity, and very popular among his tribes as a ruler and as a great leader of his soldiers. He succeeded in conquering all his enemies, and made himself glorious by his numerous victories. After ​reigning seventeen years he died in 1502, after which his son, Montezuma II, was chosen the ninth king. He was a man of great nobility and talent, very popular among his people, and, from all accounts, his reign proved, beyond a doubt, that of the highest state of prosperity in the country. The quantity of grain grown showed that the land was well cultivated, and the Court and nobles lived so luxuriously that the people could not have fared badly.
After reigning eighteen years, he was, by false betraying and promises of Fernando Cortez, taken prisoner in his own capitol, and died of wounds received in 1520.
During the imprisonment of King Montezuma, his brother Cuitlahua was elected chief to the throne. He was also a great warrior; in fact, more so than his brother Montezuma. He was hostile and a bitter foe towards the Spaniards.
King Cuitlahua and his cousin Guatamzin went to work to reorganize and raise a large army, and made a fierce and bold attack upon the Spaniards.
Cortez, seeing that he was losing much ground and men, called upon King Montezuma in his temple to speak and to pacify the Mexicans, but Montezuma had no sooner made his appearance at a window when he was first shot by an arrow and afterwards hit and killed by a stone on the temple. This act so enraged the Mexicans that they finally defeated the Spaniards and their allies, and drove them from the city July 10, 1520, and is called noche trizte (doleful night).
The Spaniards retreated by the way of Tlacopan, a small town out of the city. It was the first resting-place of Cortez' army. Next day they marched on towards Tlascallian. On their way they fell in with another hostile tribe called Pupolucans or Tepejacans, and fought a desperate battle at their capital, Tepejacan, July 18, 1520. Fortunately for the Spaniards, they killed their popular young prince in the beginning of the fight, which demoralized the Pupolucans, who fled in all directions. Had the Spaniards failed in this engagement, not a Spaniard or ally would have been left to tell the tale of the battle of Tepejacan. ​After plundering and destroying the capital they marched on and arrived at Tlascalla July 20, 1520, and were cheerfully received by the Tlascallians.
The tenth king, Cuitlahua, had reigned but four months when he died of that fatal disease called small-pox, which disease carried away over one hundred and fifty thousand Mexicans.
After the death of King Cuitlahua, Prince Guatamzin, then chief of the army, was chosen emperor. He was very popular, and a dashing young officer, and a nephew to both Montezuma and Cuitlahua, and a son-in-law to King Montezuma. He having married his own cousin, a beautiful young princess, Tecuichpa. Emperor Guatamzin, who was now the eleventh and last ruler of the original Mexicans, went to work and strengthened his city, and re-organized his forces, to be ready to receive the Spaniards and their allies.
In August, 1521, Conqueror Cortez, with a large and welldisciplined army of Spaniards, Tlascallians and other hostile tribes, made their appearance for the second time in the valley of Mexico, and attacked the city of Mexico, both by land and the surrounding lakes, causing great slaughter among the Mexicans with his (Cortez's) artillery.
Emperor Guatamzin, seeing that his people were all dashed, and his own fate doomed, ordered his aids, or princes, together with all his jewels, treasures, valued at many millions of dollars, to be thrown into the lakes. After which he (Guatamzin), with his family, was trying to make his escape on the Lake Tezeuco in a canoe, but was overhauled and captured by a swift Spanish sailing craft, Guatamzin was now under the clutches of his much-hated and revengeful foe, and having no chances or hope of escaping an ignominous death. He begged of Capt. Correjdor Holgum, the commanding officer, not to molest nor to insult his family, and particularly the Empress Tecuichpa, which request was granted by the officer. When Guatamzin was brought before Conqueror Cortez, he (Guatamzin) addressed Cortez in these ​words:—"Sir, I have done what becomes a monarch to do. I have defended my country and my people to the last extremity, and nothing now remains but to die (at the same time placing his hand on Cortez's dagger). Take this dagger and place it in my breast, and put an end to a life which no longer can be of any use to myself or to my beloved people. My race is run, my country and people are forever ruined."
Afterwards Guatamzin was taken to Cuyoacan and tortured until he was nearly dead. All done by a class of people who called themselves Christians. God spare us from such disciples.
The defeat and sad misfortune to the Mexican rulers so demoralized and disheartened the Aztec nation that they never attempted to defend their country against the Spaniards, or to dislodge or drive the invaders from their soil, and were compelled to be ruled by the Spanish yoke and government until February 24, 1821, when it succeeded in declaring its first independence.
Conqueror Cortez was a bold, fearless, ardent and spirited man; thirsting for blood, fame, gold, plundering and burning towns and cities. Exercised vast cruelties upon the poor and unfortunate natives; in fact, too horrible to recite them.
Fernando Cortez, for conquering the republic of Mexico and plundering nearly its whole dominion, was endowed by Charles V, who at that time was king of Spain, with many rich honors for his great services in Mexico. He was lionized, feasted and received with great applause wherever he went, which was continued as long as he lived.
It is said that during the Spanish rule in Mexico they had killed over four millions of people, besides as many more ruined and crippled for life. They were, no doubt, fierce, marauding people, who lived by massacring and pillaging the Aztecs—all done to convert the Aztec people to the Catholic faith; but they acted more like fiends of the worst kind than Christians. ​But a day of judgment and heavy sentence came upon these marauding Spaniards, who had, by false promises, brought so much ruin and desolation upon Mexico, by a revolution, Sept. 10, 1810, and by the declaration of independence, Feb. 24, 1821, when the Spanish rule in Mexico ended, with great joy to all the natives, and they were made to go back from whence they came, except that they left their religion here, which is the ruling power in this country.
Mexico is now governed by Mexican Indians and Mestizos, or mixed races of the Spanish and Indian blood. After the Mexicans had gained their independence, they formed different forms of government. At last a Republican form of government was chosen. The religion of the country was to be Roman Catholic; no other religion will be allowed in the Republic of Mexico (1848). The whole Catholic Church is to be controlled by one archbishop, twelve bishops and numbers of clergy. The-Mexican priesthood is a body of the most corrupt and immoral set of human beings in the world. Particularly in Mexico, where every city, town and village are swarmed with these apostles of Christ, with churches, monasteries, convents, etc. In speaking of the Catholic Church, its power and influence, we must all confess that the Spanish Catholicism has been an improvement on the Aztec cannibalism; and we hope that national thought and morals will soon be established, and confidence and order maintained throughout this unfortunate country. The wealth of the Catholic Churches (as already described) is truly immense; and it has caused all the monster distortion and dissimulation in the bloody and dark ages of the past revolution, anarchy and misrule ever since these holy apostles' (Spaniard thieves) rule was formed. Thousands have been slaughtered, and thousands more will be slain; and so on until the United States government takes hold of its dominion, under whose government every man, woman and child can worship God according to their own belief; then selfishness, revenge and malice towards their fellow-beings shall forever cease. ​Since the above has been written I noticed in a paper called The Two Republics, published in the city of Mexico, 1871, which adds another theory of the early settlers of the dominion of Mexico.
It states that a number of ancient statutes have been exhumed in the state of Vera Cruz, and that lithographic representations of two (one of them is an Ethiopian and the other an ancient Egyptian or Coptic) have been received in that city, and are now in the museum. From this it can be arguira (argued) that the Mexican portion of the American continent was, in former periods, peopled by two different and distinct races, which causes some to be a great deal darker and coarser than others.
It also states that evidence is that the Egyptian race once flourished in Mexico, but it only exists in ruins, hieroglyphics, statuary, and pottery.
The theory is now put forth that the Egyptians inhabited the east or gulf coast, while the Aztecs were originally confined to the west, and that the former were overwhelmed by the tribes of Aztecs which preceded the imperial and civilized portion of that race in its imigration from the west.
It also says (which I have already stated) that there is reason to believe that the Aztecs occupied two centuries in their migration eastward, before reaching Chapultepec or city of Mexico.
Tuesday, May 30, 1848.—This morning our soldiers were up early, preparing to march homeward, at the same time singing our national songs and cite "We Are Coming Home."
I was approached this morning by Sergt. Thomas Ziegle, Peter Ahl, and Alburtus Welsh, wanting to know how much money I could loan them, as they wished to take up the dead bodies of William Eurick and Jacob Danner. I ran my hand down into my pocket, pulled out my purse, examined it, and I found that I could spare them two ten-dollar gold-pieces and a Mexican doubloon, handing it to them and saying that was about all I could spare them. They thanked me most kindly ​for that much, and expect to have enough money now to take both bodies with them home to their friends in Little York, Pa, where they as well as myself will receive the thanks of the citizens of that little town for loaning them the money, and at the same time saying had it not been for me they could not have been able to take them both up and bring them home.
The Mexicans living around our quarters came in large numbers to give us a hearty shake of the hand and bid us a final and, I fear, a last good-bye; some even could be seen crying, while others wanted to come along with us to our homes.
A delegation of Mexicans from the polque tub hacienda also came to bid us good-bye. Some brought a little polque along and treated some of their regular customers, and some came to collect the little bills, still unpaid—the Mexicans nearly all regretting our departure from them, fearing that after our army has left them that revolution, anarchy and malice will again reign in their land. We sympathized with them and told them to be of good cheer, and to pray that their beloved country may yet be a real free and independent state, that the fierce hatred and bitter strife of men against their fellow-beings shall be ended, and revolution and desolating war forever cease, and the people allowed to worship God according to their own consciences. Then shall peace, fertility and tranquility prevail throughout their country.
About 7 o'clock the drums began to beat. Company after company fell into line, after which we started on our homeward march, and, with a wave of our hands, bid good-bye to all the inhabitants around our quarters. The polque delegation cheered us heartily.
It is true we came to this country and met the people as foes, yet we leave them without malice, hate or prejudice, and departed from them with friendship, wishing them prosperity ​for their country and the people of Mexico; in fact, the people of San Angel were no foes of ours—having been encamped there so long. We got so well acquainted, and associated together so much, that we were more like friends than enemies. They have shown, by their many acts of kindness, that they were our friends all the time; they wept like so many children; many marched with us for miles. We marched out by the Churubusco Road, and not through the city of Mexico (as first intended), passing through the strongly-fortified town of Mexicalzingo, along the south side of El Penon Pass—Cortez's first route to the city of Mexico. Mexicalzingo is situated by Lake Xochimilco, and before Conqueror Cortez's thieving rule came to this country, was a splendid city, containing about four thousand fine houses; but at the present time it contains nothing but a few old huts, shanties and plenty of ruins. The people who live here came out of their huts and stood along the road we were marching, and their whole conversation was about the Americanos, muchos buenos valiente. We marched along on a level plain, and the most of the road we passed over was strewn with large and small lava stones, no doubt caused by the numerous eruptions from the volcanic mountains near by. They look a good deal like the cinders from our furnaces—rough and sharp and difficult to pass over. Encamped at a village called Chalco, which lies close by the lake of the same name; but, like all the villages in Mexico, it is composed of miserable huts and small houses. Whether this is the Chalco which was once so famous in Montezuma's time I am unable to decide, but being in the immediate neighborhood of the city of Mexico, and no other Chalco in the country, I take it for granted that this must be the same Chalco.
On our way from San Angel, and, in fact, before we left our quarters, the soldiers sang that favorite song or poem, called "We are Coming Home." The Mexicans, even, took a fancy to it, and called upon our boys several times to repeat it. It being part of our history, I will record it. ​
We are Coming Home.
"We are coming home! The battle's din and strife is passed, And war's wild notes are hushed in sweet repose; The cannon's roar and the shrill bugle's blast Calls out no more for vengeance on our foes.
"We are coming! The shattered remnant of our manhood might; The few survivors that are left to tell The tale of woe; how, in the thickest fight, Like autumn leaves, their comrades round them fell.
"We are coming! The foes we came and fought are foes no more. A tear for every fallen warrior's tomb; For through the battle's smoke we always bore The olive branch besides the eagle's plume.
"We are coming! The winged winds that o'er blue oceans roam Are waiting now old Neptune's stern command, To waft our barques over the billows' foam, And bear the exiles to their native land.
"We are coming, friends! the little band that proudly bore Your torn Keystone flag through the iron storm; While high above the fields was seen to soar Our native eagle's proud and gallant form.
"We are coming! Adieu, ye sunny climes and myrtle groves, Where Flora reigns within perennial bowers; And youth and beauty woo their wedded loves, Mid blooming vales of never fading flowers.
"We are coming! Adieu, ye daughters of a royal line. We own ye held our hearts in thrall awhile; But now for maids in other lands we find. Who will greet the soldier with a welcome smile."
A traditional belief amongst the present inhabitants of this section of country is, that untold treasures are buried around this neighborhood of lakes and rivers. The ruins of Tezeuco, including the foundation of the great pyramid 400 feet square, is close by here; and now it is thickly overgrown with dense lots of chaparral and wild forest trees, and very difficult to get ​anywhere near it. This whole region is supposed, from its many relics, to have been thickly populated by a class of people whose sacred history of its faith and race have long since been forgotten.
The ancient histories of Mexico tell us that Chalco was once a strong and well-built city, and governed by a brave and gallant people. After the inauguration of the last monarch in Mexico City, King Montezuma marched with a large army, and fell upon Chalco for the purpose of capturing prisoners to offer to his (Montezuma's) devil idol god, Viztliputli, to be sacrificed on the piedra sacrificial block.
The citizens of Chalco defended themselves and their city with great gallantry, and in the fight the Chalcos took King Montezuma's brother and other high princes of note prisoners. The name of Montezuma being very popular, even among his enemies, it was a regular household word. The Chalcos proposed the government of Chalco to Montezuma's brother just captured; at first he utterly refused the honored offer, but, being strongly insisted upon and many promises of rich jewels in store for him, he at last accepted the rein of government of Chalco.
There was a high mast erected (about thirty feet high); on the top of this mast was a platform for the new king to stand upon to make his inauguration speech. The day was set as a day of feast and jubilee, for an occasion in which all the Chalcons felt one common interest of uniting to give a fitting reception to their new king; in fact, the day of inauguration has been looked forward to with the most pleasure of all feasts. The people seemed to be infused with a new life, as they came from all directions with joy and activity; they came to witness the inauguration of one of the most popular young princes in their country. The principal thoroughfares were thronged with eager and expectant crowds, with much enthusiasm and excitement, while from the windows, housetops, and balconies floated the Chalco colors. Flags, bunting, evergreen, and banners with appropriate inscriptions greeted the eye at every ​point. Around the stand, or mast, an immense concourse of people had gathered, and when the new king arrived it was signalled by deafening cheers of the multitude assembled to do honor to the new king.
After the new king had ascended upon the top of the mast and platform, and after a few minutes pause and rest, he cast his eyes upon the multitude of people below him. He bowed with great politeness, and then spoke with a clear and loud voice, saying, "Chalco seeks to set me on the throne; the heavens will not permit it; I would rather die than to live and be guilty of treason to your country," and which he had no sooner said, threw himself from the high mast, falling to the ground head foremost and instantly died. This act the Chalcos looked upon in bad faith, and so enraged them that they immediately went to work with wild excitement and killed nearly all the rest of Montezuma prisoners. This barbarous outrage was afterwards avenged by King Montezuma, who thought much of his brother. King Montezuma recruited his army, and marched with a large force and fell upon the Chalcos and subdued them and several other tribes, leaving only the Tlascallians unattacked, so that the Aztecs might have a neighboring enemy to attack to fetch in prisoners for their offerings on feast days.
Wednesday, May 31, 1848.—This morning at daylight we left camp Chalco and marched along lively until we arrived in mid towering Cordillera (chain of mountains). Here we stopped to refresh ourselves with a fresh supply of water, after which we all looked back toward the great valley and city of Mexico; and for fifteen minutes we penciled, and looked for the last time upon this historic valley; gazed on a picture; expands as far as the eye can reach on rich cultivated fields, floating garden, maguey or polque plants; its glittering lakes, and the city with its one hundred and sixty white domes; the castle of Chapultepec with its lofty tower and clumps of noble trees around it; the snow-clad volcanic mountains, Popocatapetl, Iscotafelt, and others, which sometimes kiss the passing ​clouds in the far distance; gay theatre, all in magnificence and grandeur; dotted with numberless villages and beautiful haciendas, surrounded with verdant hedges, orange groves and other luscious fruits; all arranged before us like a panorama, never to be forgotten by him who had the privilege of marching with the grand army of Gen. Scott on to the halls of Montezuma. We now left, and with a wave of our hands bid goodbye to the fairest city in Mexico. We marched on until we came to Rio Frio, or Tierra Frio (cold country); here we encamped for the night; it was raining, snowing, and blowing, which, of course, made everything very unpleasant for the soldiers. This place is between nine and ten thousand feet above the sea.
Thursday, June 1, 1848.—This morning we left camp Rio Frio, but in low spirits, on account of passing a disagreeable night, it raining, snowing, etc., all night; but at noon the threatening clouds disappeared, and the sun began to make its appearance, peeping through the wild woods, which had the effect of cheering up the boys, and making it more pleasant to march.
We passed through San Martin, and-went into camp at a large hacienda about three miles from San Martin. The senor, the proprietor of the hacienda, made his servants or peasants furnish us with wood and water.
Friday, June 2, 1848.—This morning we left camp about 6 o'clock, it being our turn to be detailed for the rear guard. We took our time in getting ready, until the last of the division had gone, when we fell in the rear; and for the first time I noticed that Capt. William F. Binder and company of our regiment were guarding the wagon which contained Lieuts. Hare and Dutton. Lieut. Hare looked out at the back end of the wagon, and said, "Good morning, boys. The same Ike Hare still." (Laughter.) We kept marching on until we came within ten miles of Puebla City, where we encamped for the night. We all wanted to march on to Puebla, but Col. Wynkoop would let no one go except Peter Ahl, Alburtus ​Welsh, and a few others. They got permission to go ahead for the purpose of taking up the dead bodies of William Eurick and Jacob Banner.
On our march to-day Sergt. C. Bruton, of Co. A, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, died from the effects of a burn received at San Angel. He was buried this evening near a stone vault.
Saturday, June 3, 1848.—This morning our company, being in the advance, left camp at daylight, and marched on until we came to the beautiful city of Puebla. Here we halted for a short time, giving the soldiers an opportunity of shaking hands with the Mexicans, who came flocking from all the corners of the city; and particularly when they heard that it was the soldiers who were stationed here during the long siege of Puebla. The humbres, senoritas, leperos ladrones, etc., came from all parts of the city and bade us good-bye.
Many of the gentle class came and shook hands with us. They called us the no rendirentregar Yankees buenos and mucho valentes Americanos. Just as we were about going to to start our old milk woman, who used to serve many of our men with leche (milk), came running in and among the soldiers, shaking and grasping our hands with much joy, saying, Dios bendecir esta Americanos (God bless these Americans). La valentres humbres gracias Dios (they are brave men, thank God).
We finally got started, when the leche muger and many others gave us three hearty cheers. We returned the compliment. Many of the women and men kept following us for over five miles chatting, talking and laughing of the times we had during the siege of Puebla. Our government is indebted to many of these Mexican women, and in particular to the huckster women, for saving the lives of many of our soldiers from the bloody assassins' hands. They were our best friends. We marched on until we came to Amozoquco, where we camped for the night. On our march to-day three soldiers of the South Carolirnias died of cramp colic, they were taken back and buried at Puebla. ​To-night news came into camp stating that Col. Dominguez's son, a Captain in his spy company, was killed by some guerillas in Puebla; and that Col. Dominguez (who is on his way to Vera Cruz) countermarched his company back to Puebla, and there killed five of the Mexican guerillas, who helped to kill his son. The police took one of his (Dominguez's) men prisoner, but Col. Dominguez demanded his release instantly; which, under the circumstances, was complied with.
Sunday, June 4, 1848.—This morning we left Amozoquco, and passed through Acajete, and went into camp at El Pinal Pass. The weather to-day was excessively hot.
In the evening some of the New York officers had a horse race. One horse (Mexican) was blind, and the other was lame, yet the lame one won the wager of one dollar a side.
Monday, June 5, 1848.—This morning at daylight we left camp, and passed through the town Tepunluco, went into camp about 4 o'clock, p.m., at Ojo de Agua. On our march to-day Mr. John O'Brien (generally called Pat), of Co. D, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, stole a mule while running on the road, it was branded with the letters U. S. on the fore shoulders, which he afterwards burned out with an old piece of lock, and then sold it to a Mexican for ten dollars.
Tuesday, June 6, 1848.—This morning we left camp early, on account of going into camp so soon yesterday. We passed over a very rough and sandy road, and went into camp at 3 o'clock, p.m., at the town of Tepegahualco. After we arrived in camp, we were visited by dashing showers of rain, which almost drowned us out of our tents, but did not last long.
Wednesday, June 7, 1848.—This morning at 4 o'clock we left camp, and arrived at the town of Perote about 10 o'clock, a.m. Some of us visited our old quarters, the castle of Perote, and found it almost deserted. We encamped out around the castle, and spent the balance of the day in visiting our old Mexican friends, and bidding them a hearty good-bye. ​Thursday, June 8, 1848.—This morning we left Perote, and passed through Cruz Blanco, Las Vegas, and several other small towns, and arrived at La Hoya about noon, where we encamped for the night. It rained the best part of the day, and our company being detailed the rear guard, made it still more disagreeable. On our way we captured a chicken, so we had a chicken for supper.
Friday, June 9, 1848.—This morning at 4 o'clock we left La Hoya, and on our march we passed through San Miguel barracks and La Banderilla, and arrived at Jalapa City at 10 o'clock, a.m. Here we stacked our muskets in the Plaza, and broke ranks for one hour. After refreshing ourselves, we again formed into line, and marched about three miles, where we encamped for the night on top of a hill, where we had a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico.
In the evening it commenced raining very hard. This must be the rainy season, as it has been raining nearly every day since we left San Angel.
Saturday, June 10, 1848.—This morning we did not leave camp until 8 o'clock, in consequence of to-day's march being a short one. We arrived at El Encero about 10 o'clock, a.m. Gen. Patterson took quarters in Gen. Santa Anna's residence.
To-day has been very hot. We frequently had showers of rain, thunder and lightning.
Sunday, June 11, 1848.—This morning we had orders read to us to strike our tents at noon, and leave for Vera Cruz; but an express came up from Vera Cruz stating that there were no ships at that port ready to embark on, so the order for striking tents was countermanded.
This afternoon Gen. Marshall's brigade came into camp, and pitched their tents on the left of our encampment.
Monday, June 12, 1848.—This morning is a lovely one, and I paid a visit to Gen. Santa Anna's residence. It is situated on a hill. In the rear of the building is a pond for fish and ducks. There being no garden nor fruit trees the whole place looks as if deserted, and it will take sometime to bring it to its proper shape again. ​Tuesday, June 13, 1848.—This morning Gen. Patterson ordered all the tents to be placed in regular order, as he intends to draught the whole camp, which will make a splendid picture. In the afternoon another brigade came into camp, which make it a very large encampment. In the evening it was rumored that there was a revolution in the city of Mexico, headed by Gen. Paredes.
Wednesday, June 14, 1848.—This morning the whole division encamped here, were ordered on parade to have the whole camp sketched. It was drawn by one of the New York Regiment, and Gen. Patterson intends to have it lithographed at New Orleans, which will make a handsome picture. This evening it is reported that there are several ships at Vera Cruz. So our men made up another song. Its title is, "Good-bye to Mexico," which is well composed,
Thursday, June 15, 1848,—This morning two of Col. Dominguez's lancers came up from Vera Cruz with despatches for Gen. Patterson, which stated that there were several ships in the port of Vera Cruz awaiting for troops. So at 3 o'clock we struck tents, and left for Vera Cruz singing. We only marched about four miles, and encamped at a hacienda, the day being very hot.
Friday, June 16, 1848.—This morning at 1 o'clock we left camp, passed Cerro Gordo and Plan del Rio, here we halted for over one hour, rested and laid in a fresh supply of water. After which we marched on to Puente del Nacional, The weather being extremely hot, we encamped for the balance of the day.
Strange, Yet True.
Close by here a hard battle was fought, Most strange, and yet most true; Both Generals, Scott and Santa Anna, sought Each other to subdue.
The man who so bravely led his men to victory. And made the fiend to fly. Is now a prisoner, and on his way to Washington; And Santa Anna is compelled to leave his country.
Sunday, June 18, 1848.—This morning we left camp early, and marched slowly on account of the road being heavy and sandy. We halted at Rio Medio for one hour to rest and refresh ourselves, after which we left and arrived at the outskirts of Vera Cruz about 11 o'clock, a.m., when it commenced to rain most powerfully. All got wet through and through. Col. Wynkoop would not allow any of the soldiers to enter the city of Vera Cruz until the ship was ready to receive us. This caused a great deal of dissatisfaction amongst the men, who were obliged to encamp on the wet beach without tents. It being too wet for me to retire, I went over to Lieuts. Hare and Dutton, and had a general talk with them about the shooting affairs in the city of Mexico. They both said that the shooting was all in self-defence; that it was a general gambling-room fight, and that nobody knows to this day who killed the banker; that the lights were all put out; that a dozen or more shots were fired at one another at one time; that the fighting and shooting was not done on account or intention of robbery, but on account of cheating and falling out about the game. The trial was the most absurd thing that they have ever heard tell of; they were allowed no counsel or witnesses to defend themselves with, or even they (Hare and Dutton) were not allowed in the court-room to hear what was going on. After their conviction, Gen. Robert Patterson came to their room and told them not to make themselves anyway uneasy of either being shot or hung; that he (Gen. Patterson) had got it from Gen. William O. Butler ​directly that nothing shall be done to them, the trial being merely a mockery and a sham, making the Mexicans believe that our government is carrying out the laws.
Monday, June 19, 1848.—Good-bye to Mexico! This morning, after we had our coffee, a party of us soldiers visited our old camp-ground and volunteer battery, which played such dreadful havoc during the bombardear of the city of Vera Cruz, and had it not been for the breastworks, etc., we would never have found it; for the whole place is grown over with wild bushes or, more like, chaparral. We picked up several pieces of burst shells and other curiosities.
About 10 o'clock we heard the drum beat to fall into line. We hurried back, and marched into the city of Vera Cruz, reciting, and some singing, "We are coming Home" and "Good-bye to Mexico." Oh, you cannot imagine how happy and rejoiced we all felt when we first saw the Stars and Stripes fluttering from the stern of the ship "Eudora," lying along the wharf of Vera Cruz, which is to be our floating casa (home) till we step from the gangway upon our own land, where beggars are seldom seen, where poverty and wretchedness are rare, where every man, woman and child (particularly in the North) are free and happy, and where everything speaks of prosperity, civilization and self-government.
We now got on board the steamship, but it was not quite ready to sail—-that is, they were taking on freight and military stores. This gave us an opportunity to view the sandhills and other historic points in and around Vera Cruz. We cast our eyes down the harbor, and could plainly see the Island of Sacrificios and the bend behind which we landed. Well do we all remember how anxious and pleased we were to land on the shores of Mexico, and march on to the capital of Mexico to see that ancient city, and how eager and doubly glad we now all are to return home again.
Our steamer (or, in fact, our engineer) was getting in motion for home. Several Mexicans came on board to speak to us and bid us good-bye; one was the superintendent on the ​ wharf, who has learned to talk English very fluently. He commenced by saying, "What a great change has taken place since the Yankees first landed on our shores! When you Yankees first landed, I, with the rest of my countrymen and women, felt it a blessing to rise in arms against you, and patriotically cut the throat of every Yankee in the country. Now, we deeply regret the Yankees' departure. We told him that our mission to Mexico has been accomplished with credit to ourselves and, we hope, with honor to our government; that we like Mexico, and we believe that it could be made one of the richest and best fruit-growing countries on the Pacific coast. We found all kinds of fruit growing wild along the National Road, and some of the finest fields of grain we ever saw; and we hope that the day may not be far distant when there will be a railroad from Vera Cruz to the capital, and machine-shops and other manufactories spring up all over their country, and civilization, national reform, and morals be ordered, and a self-government be established. Then, and not until then, prosperity, happiness, and confidence will prevail. But to accomplish this event you will have to break up your priest and monk rule; you must first take politics out of your religion, and religion out of politics, and let the people rule; you must guarantee life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness to every living being in your country; you must guarantee religious liberty, and worship God according to their own belief
He said that was all good as far as it went; that he was a Catholic, and believed all good Catholics would go straight to heaven when they die, for they have had their purgatory in this world. All other religion or believers will go to hell.
We told him that we were not all Catholics, but we believed in God and his Son, and we believed in carrying out and obeying God's laws, and by so doing we will stand as good a chance to enter the kingdom of heaven as some of the Catholics who worship images made out of wood and stone. To this he straightened himself up and cast his eyes towards heaven and stamped his feet on the deck, saying, "No, never, ​never," that we Yankees would all go to hell. We told him that he was an ignorant fool; that we did not want any more conversation with him; that he should vamos the ship. He left saying good-bye, and that he was sure the devil would get us all. (Laughter.)
Mexico unfortunately never had any Plymouth Rock pilgrims or a William Penn. The first white men, Cortez and his followers, were a band of wild adventurers, robbers, and murderers, from the day they first landed to the present time. He has slaughtered the inhabitants by the million; he wounded and robbed without scruple; he enslaved and subjected them in ignorance and submission to the Catholic faith, and they are held indolent, ignorant and superstitious up to the present time (1848).
Mexico may be worth something to see, but is not worth going to see; although I shall ever remember the many ancient and historic scenes I have seen in Mexico.
The tourists and travellers through this country are mostly either robbed or murdered. There is no protection for human life; or no punishment for the outlaws in Mexico.
Good-bye to Mexico.
Homeward our feet are turned once more, The last to leave, the first to land, And now press forward to the shore That girds our free northern land; Oh! how the heart with rapture thrills, How leap in thought our mountain rills. And waves, after the golden grain, Upon our home-fields wide and far, That shall see and tread again. Wooed by our own sweet summer air.
Homeward—how much is in that word! Home that we left several years ago, When first the blast of war was heard On hill above, in vale below; Then how our yeomen hurried forth From East and West and North and South; They met and vanquished oft the foe On many a hard, bloody contested field, Where, with their banners torn and low, We saw his boasting legions yield.
But this is past, peace has returned. Our blades are sheathed and still now— Blades that on many fields have earned Bright laurels for the wearer's brow; And our gallant soldiers' duty done. We leave this land of bloom and sun. Its never-changing summer time, Its gardens and its olive groves. Its avenues of fragrant thyme, Its fetes, its intrigues, and its loves.
Oh! land of beauty, peerless, bright, Of snow-capped peaks and smiling plains, Yet shrouded in a darker night Than ever Egypt's shrines remains; The stranger parting from the shores, Thy glories to behold no more. Bids thee farewell with swelling heart, As his swift bark leaps over the sea, And, as the truant tear-drops start. Prays God that thou mayest yet be free.
Farewell! notices are broken, though I have tarried long upon thy soil; Farewell! though coming as a foe I leave thee without hate or spoil; And parting thus, forever let The stranger hope that you may yet Rise from your living grave and stand, Before the nations just and great, Protecting all within the land, A free and independent State.
Farewell! thy spires are sinking fast Behind yon gray volcanic hills, I feel this look will be the last, Yet no regret my bosom fills. For all my hopes and all my fears Are with the scenes of earlier years; Fond memories fast around me throng, And shall I, can I, break the spell? One parting word—a deep, a long, A hearty, and a last farewell!
Tuesday, June 20, 1848.—This morning I got up wet and stiff, it having rained all last night and being exposed thereto. Some of our men are still sea-sick and much discouraged by the treatment we are getting.
At noon the weather appeared beautiful, a pleasant breeze stirring.
Wednesday, June 21, 1848.—This morning looked fine and pleasant, and nearly all the sea-sick men are getting well fast.
At noon our mess (what is left) had a good dinner of sour crout; and for supper we had dried apples, pickles, onions, all captured last evening. Soldiers will not starve as long as anything can be got to eat.
Thursday, June 22, 1848.—This morning there was a considerable fuss on board the ship on account of some of our soldiers stealing a little pig out of the ship captain's cabin, and search was made for the lost pig, but all in vain.
To-day we spoke several schooners and ships, all bound for Vera Cruz to take troops on board. ​Friday, June 23, 1848.—This morning there is a fine air stirring, and our fellows have nearly all recovered from their sea-sickness.
To-day we spoke the steamboat "Hercules." This is a towboat, and is bound for Vera Cruz. Also saw several other vessels bound for the same place and purposes.
In the evening we met the steamboat "Union." We are now looking out for land. The mate of the ship took out his spy-glass and discovered land ten miles off. Cheers rent the air.
Saturday, June 24, 1 848.—This morning mostly all the soldiers got up in good spirits, on the prospect of seeing Uncle Sam's land soon.
At noon we passed the schooner "Creole," loaded with a detachment of the New York Regiment. They left Vera Cruz about the same time we did; report all well. Soon afterwards some of our soldiers, who had been on the lookout for land, cried out with an exciting voice, "Land ahead! land ahead!" and, sure enough, the notice proved true. We could plainly see the Balizes, at which place we arrived about 5 o'clock, p.m. Cheers after cheers were then given for the United States and our beloved country. We continued on up the noble Mississippi river. The weather being beautiful, all the soldiers were upon deck viewing the scenery. All were much rejoiced and delighted, on account of our safe arrival in the States. Cheerfulness graced their faces. There is a saying, "Next to the sunlight of heaven is the sunlight of a cheerful face." There is no doubt some truth about this; for as soon as we saw land, I could see the bright eyes, the unclouded brow and the sunny smile at one glance on every man's face.
Sunday, June 25, 1848.—This morning at 1 o'clock the ship stopped to do some repairing, but started again at 4 o'clock this morning. We passed several beautiful plantations. The shores were crowded with ladies waving their hands and handkerchiefs, welcoming the soldiers to their homes. The weather is most delightful, and the soldiers are in buoyant ​spirits, which is an excellent wearing quality; and it may well be called the bright weather of the heart, for it gives encouragement and harmony, and enables nature to recruit its strength; whereas, worry and discontent debilitates.
To-day our men amused themselves shooting at alligators, which are numerous on the shores of the Mississippi river.
Monday, June 26, 1848.—This morning the reveille beat at daylight, and all soldiers got up, washed, and dressed themselves with new clothing, and threw some of their old rags with their contents overboard. We passed Jackson Barracks and Fort Philips; arrived at New Orleans about 7 o'clock, a.m. The ship halted on the other side of New Orleans. Of course the soldiers were anxious to get on shore, but the captain of the ship would not let us go until he had orders; so about an hour afterwards the ship hoisted her anchor and went farther up the river—about seven miles from New Orleans. Here we landed, and found the four companies of our regiment already encamped, they having arrived the day previous. We pitched our tents and then laid ourselves down once more on the soil of the United States, but regret to say that the mosquitoes here are about as bad as the Mexican fleas.
Tuesday, June 2, 1848.—This morning four companies of our regiment left for Pittsburgh in the steamboat "Western World," under the command of Lieut.-Col. Black.
In the evening the steamboat "General Hamilton" arrived. Col. Wynkoop went on board, and there was some difficulty about the cabin passengers, but it was soon settled, and the soldiers got on board and left for Pittsburgh. J. C. Taylor and I got a bunk on top of the boilers.
Wednesday, June 28, 1848.—This morning the Adjutant called for a guard to guard the few soldier prisoners; but they refused to act, saying that they are now in the United States, and they consider the guard duty is played out. So the prisoners were dealt out to each company to take charge of them.
To-day we passed Baton Rouge. As we passed, the old hero of Buena Vista, Gen. Taylor, accompanied by side guards, ​made their appearance on the bank. We cheered him three times three. He returned the compliments by taking off his hat and waving of his hand. We also passed several large and splendid plantations, such as sugar and cotton, and could plainly see the darkies (slaves) working in the fields. Their masters or overseers are mostly on horseback, with a heavy whip in hand.
Thursday, June 29, 1848.—This morning about 8 o'clock, a soldier named Robinson, belonging to Company G, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, fell overboard, and, before any assistance could be rendered, was drowned. He was a good and faithful soldier, and it seems hard to think that he should lose his life while on his way home.
We arrived at Vicksburg about 8 o'clock in the evening. Here we took on board some disbanded volunteers belonging to the Mississippi cavalry. The citizens are cheering us on our way up.
Friday, June 30, 1848.—This morning we passed several large plantations.
At noon we had a race with another steamboat, but neither could make much headway, although our boat is the fastest, but had to stop several times to take on and leave off passengers and freight.
Saturday, July 1, 1848.—This morning we stopped at Napoleon, and took on Mr. Samuel P. Stickney's circus company.
To-day we passed several small towns, where the people welcomed us by cheers.
In the evening the band belonging to Mr. S. P. Stickney's circus company played several national airs on the hurricane deck, which much delighted all the soldiers.
Sunday, July 2, 1848.—This morning we stopped at Memphis, and landed Stickney's circus company. Here we had an opportunity to run around the city for one hour, and got something to eat, better than government rations. ​Monday, July 3, 1848.—This morning one of Company I, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, was missing. It is supposed that he fell overboard, as one of the colored deck hands had seen something fall overboard, and supposed it was only a blanket. We started back and tried to find him, but it was no good; he is gone, and met a watery grave.
To-day, as usual, we stopped at several towns to leave off and take on passengers, and arrived at Cairo about 8 o'clock this evening. Here we stopped for one hour; left off passengers and mails; and then left the town in the midst of cheers and roaring of the artillery on shore.
Tuesday, July 4, 1848.—This morning is the glorious Fourth of July, and our officers ordered the bartender to let all the soldiers have two drinks apiece; but some took five or six drinks, and got pretty well corned. To-day being the Fourth we received a great many honors on both sides of the river shore; in fact, some places on the banks were strewed with people, and seemed much rejoiced at our arrival; also saluted from cannons, small firearms and cheers. As a fellow said, the citizens gathered en masse to welcome us to our sweet home. We answered all these salutes by firing off a small cannon.
Wednesday, July 5, 1848.—This morning we stopped at Troy, Ind., to take on coal and leave off passengers. We left, and in the evening we were visited by a shower of rain, which cooled the air.
Thursday, July 6, 1848.—This morning we stopped at Louisville, Ky., to go through the canal. Here we all got off the steamboat and went into the city of Louisville and laid in a fair stock of provisions—not government rations. Our boat had hard work to get through the canal. They had to chop away part of the boat's bow, and in the operation a plank flew up and struck a negro on the head, knocked him overboard and drowned him.
Friday, July 7, 1848.—This morning we arrived and stopped at Madison, Indiana. Here the people gathered in large ​numbers; men, women, and children came running from their cottages to see the soldiers, and honoring them with speeches, firing off firearms, etc., which were answered on our side by firing off a small cannon belonging to the steamboat.
After having discharged some of our living freight, and the same sort taken on, we left Madison in the midst of firing off firearms, cheering, and clapping of hands by the citizens on shore and on the steamboats.
We arrived at Cincinnati, O., about 4 o'clock, p.m. Before we arrived at Cincinnati, on both sides of the river, on shore, people had gathered in large numbers. Many ladies and gentlemen were on horseback, cheering; and the fair damsels waving their handkerchiefs in the air.
Our arrival was signaled by the roar of artillery. By the time our boat touched the wharf the people had gathered in immense numbers on board of the steamboats, flatboats, and on shore. The firemen with their engines came dashing along, bursting forth wild and continued cheering, clapping of hands, and firing off cannons, small-arms, etc. Such wild and enthusiastic cheering and roaring of artillery I have not heard since the treaty of peace was declared at the capital of Mexico. We begin to feel ourselves, "who wouldn't be a soldier of the Mexican war."
These people, by their applause, must have formed an idea that the soldiers were great men who landed before Vera Cruz, on the land of the Aztec, without the loss of a single man or the slightest accident, and captured that strongly fortified city, Vera Cruz, mounting nearly one hundred cannons, and the castle of San Juan de Ulloa—second Gibraltar—mounting over four hundred cannons; after which, with ten thousand men, triumphantly marched towards the city of Mexico, a distance of three hundred miles, through a country both by art and nature extremely difficult of passing; fought numbers of bloody battles, parrying everything before them by storm in the face of extraordinary odds; capturing cities, towns, and the strongest positions for defenses in their country; capturing ​the ancient city of the Montezumas, with all its ancient arts of ancient times; all, all, with but little over six thousand men, with the heroic Gen. Winfield Scott at its head; all without a single defeat or the slightest check.
Thus the people have reason to believe that the second conquerors of Mexico are really extraordinary and superhuman in strength and power. They first thought that we were part of the Ohio Volunteers on their way home; and when they found out that we were part of the old Keystoners, which carried its flags to the halls of Montezuma, the arrangements for the grand entree into their queen city was postponed, but the joyful and much enthusiastic citizens insisted that we, the soldiers, should land and march through a few of their principal streets, to which appeal our officers at last consented. We went on shore and formed into line, and then marched up into the city through a dense mass of people, full of huzzahs and enthusiasm. All were anxious to see part of the second conquerors of Mexico come. All the streets, housetops, windows, balconies, etc., were packed with people, cheering and waving handkerchiefs. Across the streets hung our country's flag, and pictures of Gens. Scott, Taylor and others. The whole scene was a grand affair. When we came near the portrait of Gen. Scott it was cheered with a will. After marching around a few squares, we returned and again got on board of the steamboat "General Hamilton," when we were dismissed for the day, and given leave to go on shore; and some of us had no sooner got on shore than the citizens gathered around our men in groups, asking about five hundred different questions at one time concerning the battles fought in Mexico. Also the opinion of the soldiers in regard to the removal of Gen. Scott, and what the soldiers thought of it.
We answered their questions in our own way. That the removal and superseding of Gen. Scott, after he had captured the city of Mexico, and making the whole dominion of Mexico submit to our terms, was one of the grossest and most highhanded acts that has ever happened in our government. And ​when Gens. Pillow and Worth will be called upon, and stand before Gen. Scott to prove their charges, they will be so ashamed of themselves that they will leave the court-room, and hide their faces in their dirty hands.
These people listened, as the saying is, with their ears and eyes wide open, and by the tone and general conversation with the citizens we find they sympathize with Gen. Scott, and think he has been treated shamefully.
We are to remain here until to-morrow night; or, in fact, until the other four companies of our regiment comes up. We have plenty to eat and drink free of all charges. I have been informed by our Lieutenant, A. Haines, that we will be taken off the "General Hamilton" to-morrow, and put on a smaller steamboat, as the Ohio River is too low for large steamboats to run on. Late in the evening I had a long talk with some of the boatmen on the canal. I returned on board the "General Hamilton" to take a good sleep.
Saturday, July 8, 1848.—This morning, after breakfast, a party of us started out to visit the city, and I find it to be a great business place, particularly in the pork line. The wharves are all paved with large paving-stones, so are its streets, and splendidly laid out.
In the afternoon we were taken off the "General Hamilton," and put on board a smaller steamboat running between here and Pittsburgh—the water being too low for large or heavy boats to run. On this boat we all got state cabin passage, which is the first sign of civilization since we left Pittsburgh on our way to Mexico. The idea of private soldiers, or even corporals getting state-room cabin passage is something amazingly absurd; it makes us feel as proud as if we were promoted to a brigadier-generalship.
In the evening Col. Wynkoop telegraphed to Memphis to know whether the other four companies of our regiment had passed that city, as we are waiting here until their arrival; but no answer came, which signifies that they had not yet passed that city. So we are obliged to wait a little longer. ​Sunday, July 9, 1 848.—This being Sunday, a large number of citizens came on board to visit us, shaking hands and congratulating us on our safe return, and asking many questions about the battles fought and the removal of Gen. Scott.
This afternoon, Sergt. Robert Freeston, of Co. D, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, died of diarrhœa.
Monday, July 10, 1848.—This morning I was informed that Co. D intends to take the dead body of Sergt. Freeston, who died yesterday, on to Philadelphia to his relatives.
At noon I again visited the city, and took a walk around the canal, and talked to some of the boatmen about boating, as that used to be my occupation on the Pennsylvania Canal from 1840 to 1846.
Tuesday, July 11, 1848.—This morning at 10 o'clock some of the Ohio Volunteers arrived. They had a grand reception by the citizens and firemen; they turned out en masse to do honor to their sons who fought on the sandy plains of Mexico. There was much cheering and confusion during their marching through the city.
About noon Col. Wynkoop concluded to start, and left the city with firing a salute and cheers. Passed several small villas (towns), and at dusk it commenced to rain, which had the effect of cooling the air.
Wednesday, July 12, 1848.—This morning was very foggy, and prevented the boat from going her regular speed. We passed several fine towns, and were kindly saluted by the citizens, with firing off of cannons and cheering.
To-day has been very pleasant, and the hurricane-deck was crowded.
Thursday, July 13, 1848.—This morning we stopped at a small town to let off and take on passengers; left, and passed several other towns. Along the river people could be seen in groups cheering and waving their handkerchiefs.
In the evening, about 8 o'clock, we arrived at Wheeling, Va., which is about ninety miles from Pittsburgh, Here we were met by the citizens on the wharf and on steamboats lying here, ​cheering and firing salutes in honor of our arrival. Who wouldn't be a soldier in time of war, when you are greeted with such honors? Speeches were made by several intelligent gentlemen, which were responded to by our Col. Wynkoop. After an hour's stay, we left in the midst of cheering and the booming of cannons, and just as we left, William Thomas, a recruit of Co. D, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, died.
Friday, July 14, 1848.—This morning early we passed Wellsville, O., where the citizens greeted us with hearty cheers.
About 10 o'clock, a.m., we crossed the line, arriving once more in old Pennsylvania, for which we gave six hearty cheers, and at the same time firing off our little cannon thirteen times in honor of the thirteen original States.
At 3 o'clock, p.m., we arrived at the thriving town of Beaver, Pa. Here we halted, and at the same time tolling the steamboat-bell for the purpose of notifying the citizens of the death and burial of a soldier (Wm. Thomas), who died last evening. The tolling of the boat-bell had the effect of bringing large numbers of people from all parts of the town to the wharf, inquiring, "What is the matter?" "Who is dead?" etc.
After the boat was fastened to the wharf, we landed, formed into line with drum and fife, and attended the funeral of William Thomas in a body; besides, it was accompanied by a large number of citizens, who paid all due respect to the honored dead by closing their business places and tolling nearly all the church-bells in the borough while the parade was marching to the cemetery—it being the first soldier who served in the Mexican war who was buried in that beautiful little town. A minister of the Gospel volunteered his services, and spoke with great eloquence suitable to the occasion at the grave, promising the soldiers that the grave of William Thomas, of Co. D, First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, who has fought life's battle to the end, will forever be well taken care of by the citizens of Beaver.
After the ceremony was over, we returned to our steamboat, where we were met by the Committee of Arrangements from ​Pittsburgh, who had just arrived from that city. The committee formed on deck, where they welcomed the officers and soldiers of the Pennsylvania Volunteers to Pennsylvania in a neat and appropriate speech, which was responded to by our Col. Francis M. Wynkoop.
In the evening, large numbers of the citizens and firemen, with their equipments on, visited our boat, and it was laughable to see the people—ladies in particular, who, thank God, always look out for the comfort of the soldiers—coming on board with baskets full of eatables, and offering them to the men, which, of course, was all kindly and thankfully received. I notice the ladies in this section of the country are more liberal and sociable, and chat more to the soldiers of the suffering and hardship they went through, than any other place we have come to. I think some of the ladies are falling in love with some of our men, and one of our men told me that he fell in love with one of the girls, and that as soon as he got home and discharged he was going to correspond with her. The treasures of the deep are not so precious as are the concealed comforts of a man's heart locked up in a woman's love. What say you, my friends?
In the evening Col. Wynkoop received a telegraphic dispatch from our other companies, stating that they had left Cincinnati in the steamboat "Jewess," and would be here (Beaver) to-night or to-morrow morning.
Saturday, July 15, 1848.—This morning we still find that the other companies have not made their appearance. We waited until 1 o'clock, p.m., when we moved off from the shore, and left with cheers from the citizens on shore as well as from the soldiers on board. We passed Rochester, Freedom, Economy and other small villages. At all these towns the people crowded on the wharves and along the river shore, cheering and firing off cannons and other small firearms. Some of the ladies could be seen standing on house-tops waving their handkerchiefs in the air. ​At Economy we stopped to take on wood. A notice was given out that we would stop here for about an hour, to give the "Jewess" a chance to catch up to us. This gave the soldiers a chance to get on shore and view the town, which lies along, and running parallel with, the Ohio river; laid out with wide streets, and well shaded with fine large trees. It is about 18 miles from Pittsburgh. Through a conversation with one of its oldest inhabitants, I learn it was first built by a community called Harmony Society.
This Society was first organized at Ephrata, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in 1703. They still talk what we may call the real Pennsylvania Dutch dialect language. They put me in mind more of the Lancaster County people than any other class I have had the pleasure to meet with. The women wear plain dresses, but neat, clean and Quakerish-looking bonnets, and the men wear broad-brim hats; yet they are not Quakers.
In 1803 this Harmony Society emigrated to Butler County, Pennsylvania, purchased a large tract of land, and built a town called Harmony. Here they were joined by Mr. George Rapp, a thrifty, intelligent German gentleman, and very popular man, who soon became their preacher and a great leader in their Society. In 1814 they became dissatisfied with their location in Butler County; sold all their lands and houses in Pennsylvania, and moved to the State of Indiana. They settled near the Wabash river, bought a large tract of land, and built another town called Harmony; but they soon became discontented and demoralized, on account of the unhealthy climate and hostile feelings amongst their new neighbors, who did not want their Society in their State.
In 1825 they again sold their houses and land, and went back to old Pennsylvania, and bought a large tract of land in Beaver county, and built this town Economy, where they remain to this day; and by the looks of the town it plainly shows that they are industrious, persevering and frugal in their habits, and have proven an orderly, inoffensive and ​law-abiding people, and it would be a great blessing to this country if some more of our towns and cities were inhabited with some of the same material. There would be no occasion of having any lawyers, poor-houses, jails, etc.
The people, as at Beaver, brought edibles, and particularly the ladies (God bless these dear angels). I cannot praise them too much. They seemed to be the only people who care and look into the welfare and comfort of the soldiers.
I find the people here are great friends of Gen. Scott. They asked many questions in regard to his removal, and the opinions of soldiers of Gen. Scott. They were answered by the soldiers (as at many other places), speaking in the highest terms of Gen. Scott as a leader, and of his victorious campaign in Mexico; the many obstacles and embarrassments, which were constantly thrown in his way by our jealous government, were all done for the purpose of breaking down Gen. Scott's popularity and fair name. We also style it outrageous, unjust and infamous; a reproach to our civilization; a stigma of the deepest dye to our government forever.
The steamboat bell now rung for all to get on board; after which we started without waiting for the arrival of the "Jewess." We soon came in sight of the smoky city Pittsburgh; at which city we arrived at 4 o'clock, p.m. Here we found steamboats, and other water crafts; as well as all along the wharves for miles the citizens had gathered. Also the housetops, doorways, windows, etc., were crowded to see the heroes of the Mexican war. The bands on the steamboats were playing stirring pieces; winding up with "Sweet Home." The cheering and firing of cannons and other firearms was immense. The people were wild with enthusiasm.
Before we were fastened to the wharf we were met by our Captain, William F. Small, who was was greeted with hearty cheers from his old company. We were all much pleased in seeing him again. He made a little interesting speech to the soldiers. ​It will be remembered that Capt. W. F. Small left us at Jalapa City, Novamber 24, 1847, to take his seat in the State Senate, to which position he was elected October 12, 1847.
The Captain informs us that there is great preparations being made in Philadelphia to receive the soldiers. We are now fastened to the shore, and ordered to land on the wharf and form into line; when Judge Wilkins, of Pittsburgh, was introduced, and made a telling and applauding speech, touching upon our gallantry and triumphant achievements of our hardships, sufferings, etc., which was answered by Col. Wynkoop; which speeches were received with great applause. After this ceremony was over we were ordered to march through several of the principal streets with our old torn banner unfolded to the breeze.
We marched on and passed Lieut.-Col. Black's residence; where an immense concourse of people had assembled, and who greeted us with hearty cheers. We gave Mrs. Col. Black three rousing cheers, which she received with a very polite bow, and waving her handkerchief.
The streets we marched through were so crowded that it was almost impossible to get along, so anxious were the people to see the second conquerors of Mexico come.
After marching through several streets we came back to the steamboat again, and there were dismissed for the balance of the evening and night. This caused a good deal of dissatisfaction among the soldiers, on account of the citizens of Pittsburgh never saying once, will you take something to eat or even to drink; a relish a soldier always expects to get, particularly after marching in the hot sun. Some of our men were heard to swear and say that if they had known that they were to get nothing to eat or even to drink they wouldn't have marched through their black streets. Some had pies and cakes left that the people of Beaver and Economy had given to us, and we fell back on them, but those who hadn't anything left had to fall back on government rations. ​The ladies of Pittsburgh were very enthusiastic when we marched through their streets, but never so much as said "poor soldier, here is a cake or a cracker." We find the ladies of the country towns are more liberal and more real friends to the soldiers. Good-night, ladies and gentlemen of Pittsburgh; your generous hospitality and many kindnesses will ever be remembered by the soldiers of the Mexican War.
Sunday, July 16, 1848.—This morning Gen. Robert Patterson and the other long-looked-for companies arrived in Pittsburgh. They report that four of their soldiers died on the way with diarrhœa. There is a good deal of grumbling amongst the soldiers on account of the treatment we received from the citizens. Those who have a little money left went to hotels and boarding-houses to take board.
At 10 o'clock Capt. Small and our whole company attended church, which was crowded to overflowing.
In the evening several of our officers held a meeting to decide whether to go to Philadelphia to be disbanded, or here in Pittsburgh.
Monday, July 17, 1848.—This morning the officers decided to go to Philadelphia, there to be disbanded. This caused a good deal of dissatisfaction amongst some of our western companies, who wanted to be discharged here, and go home on their own hook.
This afternoon we received orders to be on the packet boat at 6 o'clock this evening; so we embarked and left the smoky city with no regret, or even a cheer. We passed several small towns and received small honors, but our fellows received them coolly, on account of being much dispirited at having nothing but government rations to eat. Gen. Patterson is on our packet. We have good accommodation on this boat.
Tuesday, July 18, 1848.—This morning we passed through Leechburg, where I had the honor of again seeing old David Leech, the founder of the Pioneer and Leech & Co. lines of packets and freight lines. He is a stout, robust man, and has the appearance of a great business man. Passed several other ​small towns, and arrived at Blairsville in the evening. Here is where some of the people showed hospitality—offering to give our men supper if we waited; but the captain of the boat would not consent to it. We halted about twenty minutes, and then left again.
Wednesday, July 19, 1848.—This morning we arrived at Johnstown, where the good citizens invited us to take breakfast, after which we took the cars and had a most pleasant ride through the most picturesque part of Pennsylvania; passed over ten inclined planes—up five and down five, all within about forty miles of road, to overcome the height of 2,570 feet of the Allegheny mountain, 1,398 being on the eastern and 1,172 feet on the western side of the mountain.
The Allegheny and Portage Railroad crosses what is called Blair's Gap Summit, passed through a tunnel of nearly nine hundred feet in length, through the mountains. We sweep around the curve over the viaduct at Horseshoe Bend in the shape of a semicircular arch of eighty feet span over the Conemaugh river, which cost nearly $55,000; passed over several other smaller viaducts, besides a number of culverts.
On the Summit, the citizens had a fine dinner prepared for a company of the Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, which started from this immediate neighborhood and is expected to arrive every moment. As we passed they greeted us with three hearty cheers. We, of course, responded to the cheer, and at the same time told them that we were very sorry that we couldn't stop and take dinner with them, at which remark they took a hearty laugh; passed on and arrived at Hollidaysburg about 4 o'clock, p.m.; looked back on the magnificent scene, on range after range of mountains, woods over woods, rising in grand array in gay and theatrical pride before us. The citizens received us with hearty cheers, and offered us supper if we would stay, but our officers would not consent to the generous request.
Hollidaysburg is a lively little town in boating season in transferring merchandise from boats to cars to carry over the ​mountains westward, and unloading it from cars into canal-boats to carry eastward. Here we again took the packet-boat and left Hollidaysburg, with three rousing cheers from the crowd on shore. They also cheered Gen. Robert Patterson, who is with us on his way home. Passed Frankstown—once, before the canal and railroad were finished, an important point on the road over the mountains. Passed Williamsburg, Alexander, etc.
Since the-above has been written, the Allegheny Portage Railroad, from Hollidaysburg to Johnstown, and the western division of the Pennsylvania Canal, from Johnstown to Pittsburgh, have all been adandoned and superseded by the great Pennsylvania Railroad route—the extensive inclined planes having been avoided by a gradual grade and tunnel under the Allegheny Mountains.
Thursday, July 20, 1848.—This morning we arrived at McVeytown. Here I had the pleasure of meeting a good many of my old friends, who, as well as myself, were pleased at seeing one another again, having only time to say a few words and shake hands with them while the boat was passing through the lock, making me promise them that I would call to see them soon after my discharge in Philadelphia. As we passed out of the lock they gave us three hearty cheers. Passed on down the raging canal until about one mile above Lockport, or Three Locks, as some call it, where I first saw my brother Frederick on shore. I instantly jumped off the packet boat, and, of course, you can all imagine we were both much rejoiced in seeing one another again. The boat was going on, and I had only time to say a few words to him and give him a hearty shake of the hand, and hurried down to Lockport to catch the boat. Here I met some of my most intimate friends, who greeted me with great joy, and particularly Dr. J. L. Ickes and family. More so by his beautiful and amiable daughter, Miss Catharine E. Ickes, who seemed to be much rejoiced and pleased in seeing me, and I could see by the bright sparkling of her eyes, the pleasing countenance ​of her loving face, the movements of her rosy lips, and the squeeze she gave me with her lily-white hands, made an impression upon my heart that there was something more than a welcome—i. e., love.
"Thus let me hold to my heart, And every care resign, And shall we never, never part. Oh, than my all that's mine." Goldsmith.
Here and around this immediate neighborhood I spent the last part of my boyhood days; here, in Robinson and Hoffman school-house, so called—the latter now dim and old—where the ceiling was so low that a tall scholar had to stoop as he walked to his seat, I received the little education I am possessed of.
The romantic scenes now visible remind me of the many merry, happy days and hours I have passed in the good old times of our boyhood days. Here, when going to and from school, we used to pelt one another with snowballs—sliding on the ice and down the hills with our little sleds; its memories and recollections are ever near and dear to me, and I cannot, will not, forget them. Here the nightingale enchants you in the fine summer evening. Its picturesque scenery and the many happy hours I have passed here were frequently mingled with the dreams in camp and on the battle-fields and plains of Mexico.
We passed on, and at the same time I explained to my comrades the different points along the Juniata River, the very spot where old Fort Granville stood in 1756, the Indian mound near the locks above Lewistown, etc.
Arrived at Lewistown about 3 o'clock, p.m. By referring back to the beginning of my journal you will see that at this town I first made up my mind to enlist in Capt. William F. Small's Company (C), First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, to serve during the war with Mexico, and it gives me pleasure to say I never regretted it. ​Here we were informed that there was a break in the canal at the Narrows; so we were obliged to remain here for several hours until the break was mended. This delay gave me an opportunity to call and see some of my old friends; among them was Mr. John Colder, for whom, in 1845, I used to drive packet team, and whose son, Lloyd Colder, died at Perote Castle of San Carlos, Mexico. He was much pleased at seeing me, and made particular inquiry regarding his son, after which he took me to his house and introduced me to Mrs. Colder. After shaking hands and talking awhile she got on the subject of her son Lloyd. I informed her that I saw him buried with all the honors of war, and followed to his grave by nearly the whole garrison of Perote. She then burst into tears, and was much affected and grieved, as she loved Lloyd dearly. Seeing that she was much mortified I did not stay long. I left and called on different other friends, and my old bosom friend Mr. Smith, the boss blacksmith of the Pioneer Packet stables of Lewistown in 1845; talked with him and some of the packet drivers for some time, cracking jokes and telling stories, and how I used to ring the bell—notice to passengers that the packet boat is approaching, bringing out my three high-spirited greys, dashed over the canal bridge, cracking my whip over their heads, indicating to the packet's crew that old Santa (as they familiarly called me) with his greys was ready and would speedily take them to the next station, and so on until the very old bell rung for all the soldiers to get on board, and soon left Lewistown in the midst of cheers and clapping of hands.
Late in the evening we arrived at Mifflintown. Here a large number of people had gathered to see us. Stopped a few minutes, receiving cheers and clapping of hands.
"Comrades and friends, the glorious past recalls Your well-known fields of battle fought and won. Young, enthusiastic, eager, proud as you were then. Marched, stormed through the hills, the mountain passes climb, Camp on the streams through heat and storm, through fertile vales that flow
From the broad beds of the everlasting snowy volcanic hills. Remember that we all were Uncle Sam's men there, And in the common glory had a share. The toils and hardships of battles and march endure; Win glory on our way home, and your country's thanks secure." Pike.
Friday, July 21, 1848.—This morning early we arrived at Dauphin, where we first heard the sad intelligence of the death of Governor Francis R. Shunk. People came rushing from their humble cottages to the canal to see some of Uncle Sam's soldiers, clapping hands. Passed on and arrived at Harrisburg about noon. After the boat was hitched fast, we stepped on shore, formed into line and marched to the Centre, or Market Square, where a fine collation, or dinner, had been prepared for the soldiers by the citizens of Harrisburg; and, of course, having keen appetites, we partook of the edibles with good relish, for it has really been the first regularly cooked dinner we received on our homeward tour. They did not march us through their town, and then dismiss us without anything to eat, as was the case in Pittsburgh, but marched the boys direct to the well-supplied table. After having fully supplied the inner man, we were dismissed for the balance of the day. I must confess that the people of Harrisburg have shown us more friendly and generous hospitality, by uniting and giving the soldiers a fitting reception, than any other town on our way home, giving the soldiers most everything they wanted. Nearly all of our men received clean clothing, fine linen shirts, stockings, shoes, pocket handkerchiefs, etc. In fact, everything in the clothing and eating line that we stood in need of was cheerfully given by the citizens of Harrisburg.
In the afternoon a delegation of citizens from Little York, Pa., accompanied by Sergt. Thomas Ziegle, Peter Ahl, Alburtus Welsh and Samuel Stair, called upon us. They came for the express purpose of taking charge of the dead bodies of William Eurick and Jacob Banner, who both formerly belonged to that patriotic little borough. ​I, of course, had an introduction to these gentlemen, and they were informed by Sergt. Ziegle and Peter Ahl that I was the man who furnished the best part of the money towards bringing the dead bodies of Danner and Eurick to Little York. They bursted into tears and thanked me most cordially, paid me back the amount laid out, and then again thanked me heartily for my kindness, and wanted me positively to promise them that I would call upon them when I got my discharge, to which I could not possibly make answer.
We then took a walk around town, talking about the bloody battles fought in Mexico. And I assure you the inner man was well supplied with the best of wines and eatables; after which we parted.
In the evening we divided in different squads, and took supper at different houses. So the sociability and generosity of the good citizens of Harrisburg will ever be remembered by the soldiers of the Mexican war the longest day of their lives.
Saturday, July 22, 1848.—This morning we were all formed into line, with our side-arms, to attend the funeral of our late Governor, Francis R. Shunk, which was largely attended, all business being suspended and the church-bells tolling doleful sounds. After the funeral was over we marched back to the railroad depot, where we got on the cars, and soon afterward left Harrisburg, with three hearty cheers from the soldiers of the Mexican war for the many kindnesses and liberality the citizens have seen proper to bestow upon us. The cheers fairly echoed through the valley and shook the Susquehanna River. We dashed along the Susquehanna River until the warning whistle blew, the engine slowly gliding along until we passed Middletown, then steadily increasing the speed until we are running at the rate of thirty to thirty-five miles per hour; dashed over a high bridge over the Conewago Creek, past trees and fences, farm-houses and splendid large barns, through deep cuts of rock—people standing and, no doubt, wondering what kind of men are these in the cars, all ​flitting by us like a fair vision gazing from the car-windows? The whistle again blows, the train slacking up and stopping at Elizabethtown. This was the residence of my friend and messmate. Simon Schaffer, who died at Jalapa City, Mexico, May 13, 1847—died more from grief and wearisomeness, which brings no joy to himself or his fellow-man.
As soon as our iron horse had his drink we left and cautiously passed through the tunnel, after which we again went on full speed, whirling one time this way and another time that way. The engineer shut off steam and stopped at Mount Joy. Here the people came running from their cottage homes to see the soldiers—a part of Gen. Scott's army. The ladies greeted us with pleasing smiles, waving their handkerchiefs, and handing in the windows bouquets of flowers.
As soon as our black horse had his smile we left with great hurrah from the citizens of Mount Joy, passed over a fine bridge over the Little Chiques Creek, passing through a deep cut, and then slowly swept around the curve and arrived in Lancaster City about 3 o'clock, p.m. Here the people congregated in large numbers; it being Saturday, and a festival day on account of our arrival, had the effect of bringing nearly all the farmers in Lancaster County to the city, which infused new life and vigor and to welcome the soldiers.
We got off the cars, formed into line, and then marched through several of their principal streets; and the streets we passed through were thoroughly packed with spectators; the housetops, doorways, windows, porticos were all jammed with senoritas and gentlemen; handkerchiefs fluttered in the air like so many bees; throwing flowers and beautiful bouquets at the soldiers; acrqss the streets and on the housetops waved flags and bunting and pictures of different generals, and along the whole route we were heartily cheered; the citizens rushing in among our ranks, shaking hands, congratulating, and welcoming the soldiers home.
After marching around different squares we finally came to a halt in front of the North American Hotel, fronting on North ​Queen street and the railroad track. Here Judge Ellis Lewis made his appearance on the porch or piazza, and made a telling and remarkable good speech, welcoming the soldiers in the name of the citizens of Lancaster City to their hospitality. He referred at considerable length to the brilliant conduct of the sons of the old Keystone State, whose galaxy of heroes fought gallantly, manfully, under our glorious country's flag, and poured out their blood like water in defense of our country's cause. Upon its conclusion he retired amid great cheering and applause, and it was in a fitting manner responded to on our side by Gen. Robert Patterson, Cols. Francis M. Wynkoop and Samuel W. Black, who mostly referred to our fatigue marchings, our hardships, sufferings, and privations, which fall on the life of soldiers, our triumphant victories in Mexico, which was loudly cheered by the immense concourse of people assembled around the stand. I noticed the farmers paid close attention to what our officers said, and their whole conversation and remarks (in Pennsylvania Dutch) were "may God forever bless these gallant soldiers."
After speech making was over the different companies were distributed to different hotels; our company (C) took up our quarters at Mr. Hopel's hotel, right along the railroad track, now used by the Pennsylvania Railroad Co. as a passenger depot and ticket office.
Here we have elegant quarters, a fine large room to sleep in, and receive the same kind treatment as at Harrisburg—giving the soldiers a supper that could not be beaten; it consisted of all the best of edibles which Lancaster County is so famous in producing. Soldiers always have good appetites after a long march; they soon made sad havoc among the rations.
After supper was over, some took a walk around the city, while others, including myself, remained closely in our quarters, being much fatigued from our ride and march of to-day.
In the evening a large number of the citizens called upon us, making inquiries of the number of battles fought and about ​some missing soldiers who formerly lived in Lancaster, which, of course, was answered on our side the best we knew how.
At 10 o'clock, p.m., we were compelled to shut the door and retire for the night.
Sunday, July 23, 1848.—This morning, after a good night's rest and sleep, we got up and washed ourselves; after which we were ordered to sit down, and eat one of the best breakfasts we have had since we left our homes. It was what you might call a real old fashioned Lancaster county breakfast, plenty of everything and the best of food; and, as soldiers are proverbially good at the mess table, and particularly when it is well supplied, they were not long making mischief among the supplies. After breakfast some of our men could be seen to make preparations to leave to-morrow morning; while others, by invitations of the citizens, went to churches and to private houses.
In the afternoon Lieut. Haines, of our company (C), with a party of other soldiers, left Lancaster for the city of Philadelphia.
About 4 o'clock, p.m., Alburtus Welsh, John Newman and myself took a walk around the city, viewing the different points of interest, and I recognized great changes; vacant lots were built up with fine houses, streets were extended, and new improvements everywhere. Some places were perfectly familiar to me, having trodden over them frequently when a boy.
In the evening a passenger train came in from Philadelphia, bringing a large number of citizens from Philadelphia to escort the soldiers to that city. They informed us that the greatest preparation that ever was known is made in Philadelphia to welcome the soldiers home. The whole volunteer division, the firemen and other societies will be out. That there will be an extensive dinner prepared for the soldiers at the Chinese Museum, on Ninth street, and ample quarters secured for us until our final discharge.
On our strolling through town to-day, we were invited into several houses, where we had a pleasant chat on the topic of war with the citizens. ​In the evening again a large number of the citizens called upon us, making inquiries and asking many questions about the brilliant victories in Mexico.
Lancaster I esteem as my home, and the memories of my early youth are ingrafted so deeply that I cannot and will not forget them.
Yes, the home of my childhood in memory me thinks I can see, Those forms that in youth were familiar to me; And oft on the tablet of memory I trace The image enshrined of each dear loving face.
While we are lying here, it will probably not be out of place to note the early recollections of my boyhood days. It was in this town (Lancaster) and county, after we left Philadelphia, that I passed my early days, and the first memorable events and deeds of pleasure are from this town and county. In strolling through the town to-day, I looked with pride on the large brick church—English Trinity Lutheran Church—with its four figures or statues standing on pedestals, one on each corner, representing Faith, Hope, Charity and benevolence, and its high steeple, whose musical bells I often heard, and loved to hear ring. The corner-stone of this church was laid in May, 1761, and the debt of which was afterwards paid off by lottery, in 1807; over 6,000 tickets were sold, at thirty cents each. Also visited the old brick school-house, which I noticed had changed but very little in its appearance. In that old brick school-house I first went to the English school, where I learned my A B C's, and, I am sorry to say, scarcely anything more. Thus, my readers, you will see that my early education has been sadly neglected.
Well do I remember the spring fairs, when the streets were crowded with people, and tables covered with all kinds of merchandise, sweetmeats, gingerbread, sweet beer, etc.; how the young lads would save up their pocket-money to take their girls, neatly dressed in their linsey-woolsey short-jackets or gowns, to the fair, where dances were held in every tavern, ​Well do I remember the many dichoso (happy) hours I passed in and around that school-house; well do I remember how in the streets we used to play soldiers (with Henry Dietrich our captain), Indians, clowns, horses playing in large rings, some playing hide-and-seek and listening to the many witch stories—how old women would pick up and carry off naughty little children, etc.
"There's something within my heart I cannot forget, Where children's sweet memories stay; And no music to me has a charm that thrills Like the voices of children at their play."
Also went around to see the old stone house in Water street, near Chesnut street, where we used to live; but I was surprised to see that it was torn down, and a brick house put in its stead. Well do I remember the great horse races they used to have here; the numerous crowds and excitements; the long string of Conestoga wagons, loaded with freight going east and west; the number of droves of horses, cattle, sheep, hogs, etc., going east. There was also a public execution, which took place on a large common near the race course. The doomed man's name was, I think, Schaffer. Being young and small in stature, I crawled in through or between the men's legs, and in this way I succeeded in working myself right in front of the line, where I had a full view of the manœuvring of the soldiers and the executioners, and I can yet see the doomed man Schaffer coming in on a wagon, seated on his own coffin; getting up and off the wagon; walking up with a firm step to the platform of the scaffold; seeing the executioner putting the rope around his neck and placing the cap over his head and face; seeing him drop, and heard the shrieks from the multitude of spectators. After hanging for nearly half-an-hour, he was taken down and buried. This was the first and last public execution I have ever seen in the United States.
Parents soon afterwards moved into the country, into a small stone house situated near the banks of the Conestoga river or creek, near Earlville or Zimmerman Store, so called. ​Here, at the age of nine years, I was bound out to a farmer, named Henry Grabill, to work for my clothing and victuals until I was fifteen years old. After the expiration of that time I was to receive a free outfit and again to be free. The agreement was also that I was to be sent to school regularly every winter; but, like most of the farmers in those days, took good care not to send the poor bound or peasant boys to school more than he could help, and, in consequence of this negligence, I never got much further in my learning than the Comly's or Cobb's Spelling-book.
Here is where I passed some obscuro (gloomy) and—it also gives me pleasure to say—many agreeable and happy days.
Here is where I used to hear the robins, peewees, nightingales, whippoorwills and other birds sing in the free open air, and how often did I wish myself like the birds flying in the air—free again. As I worked day after day and year after year on the farm, I used to exclaim to some of our neighbors, that after I was free, I would never again work on a farm for the purpose of making my living; that I look for a higher destiny than ploughing, hoeing corn, harvesting, etc., which assertion, thank God, has proven true, not having worked on a farm since my freedom—hurrah!
Well do I remember Henry Grabill's farm, where, in a little coach, I used to take the children to the fields, where we used to play. Now years have gone by since I worked on Grabill's farm; all his children have grown up to man and womanhood, yet it tells me of many happy days I have passed on and around the Grabill farm.
The memories of my early life, the many pleasant enjoyments I passed in this beautiful county of Lancaster were, like other places, frequently mixed with the many suenos (dreams) during our campaign in Mexico.
In 1840, parents again moved to the Three Locks above Lewistown, Pa., from whence, as already stated, in 1846, I enlisted in the First Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, for the Mexican war.