Soldiers of Conquest (14 page)

“Yes, sir. You're getting good.”

Grant looked back to the boys. “Will you do that?”

The boys nodded all in unison.

“Good. Hold out your hands.”

Grant pressed one of the coins into a brown palm of each of the boys, and staring into the black eyes, said, “You have given me your word. If you lie, you'll go to hell. Now off with you.”

Clutching their money, and with calloused bare feet flying, the boys darted off along the streets with their happy, youthful voices shouting out Grant's message.

As Grant waited and checking the crowd for troublemakers, a group of young men wearing pistols in their belts gathered off to the side of the main throng. They stared with hooded eyes from under big sombreros. Now and again they spoke among themselves with voices too muted for Grant to make out the words. He was certain that if trouble were to come, it would begin with these men.

“Do you see those fellows, Hackett?” Grant asked.

“I see them, lieutenant. I'll make sure they stay good boys.”

One of the lads returned with a man leading a horse. Grant gave him another penny and sent him off on another trip.

Within two hours, Grant had examined half a hundred horses and purchased forty, and twelve mules trained to work in harness, for an average price of seven dollars each. When there were no more sellers, he closed his moneybox and led the detachment, with the bought animals tied to the tailgates of the wagons, from San Julian.

On a rise of ground just outside the town, Grant stopped and raised his field glasses to the rear. “I thought that might happen,” he said to Chilton and Hodding.

“What's that?” Chilton asked.

“Put your glasses on that horseman off there to the left and you'll see that we didn't buy the best horse in San Julian.” In the field of Grant's glasses, a rider was bent forward over the neck of a horse running full out to the west.

“He's going to report our whereabouts to the nearest army post,” Grant said. “The question for us is will they be regular army of militia and will they have enough men to tackle us. If they do have enough, how long will it take them to catch us?” He thought Chilton and Hodding would soon discover what combat meant.

*

Darkness overran Grant and the men on the banks of a tree-lined stream with ample firewood for the evening fires and grass for the animals. They put out sentries, staked out the horses, and made camp. In the light of the bivouac fires, and with mosquitoes swarming with the coming night, the three officers ate their rations from tin plates balanced on their knees.

“Well, Grant, how do you judge the day went?” Chilton asked.

“It's not good that the Mexican Army will soon know, or already knows where we are and our number,” Grant replied and looking out across the dark land. “And I'm disappointed in how few animals we managed to buy. Still it's been my experience that the farther we get from the fighting the more willing the people are to sell us horses and food stuffs.”

“Well at least the day didn't bring a fight, not one shot,” Hodding said.

“Our luck won't hold,” Grant replied. “We're a small force moving slowly through a hostile country with men riding to keep the Mexican army informed of our location. And the more animals we collect, the more tempting target we'll be for an attack.”

“I don't see that there's much we can do about the Mexicans short of turning back,” Hodding said.

”And we won't do that,” Grant said. “But starting tomorrow, we'll put riders out in advance and also flankers to give us warning of what's coming at us.”

Lee felt content as he bathed, the water cool and countering the hot day, in the bathtub of the house Johnston, McClellan, and he had taken into their possession. The invasion had gone admirably, and now that he was commander of the company of army engineers, his stature with Scott and the other senior officers had increased substantially. In addition, there was a grand party to attend tonight. The days since the end of the bombardment had been full of making drawings of the fortifications of the city and of Ulua and a party was a welcome event. Yes truly, it was a fine day. He climbed out, toweled dry, and standing naked in front of the mirror, shaved and trimmed his mustache that had grown long during the hectic days of the siege.

Scott and his generals had been invited to a party at the British Consulate. The invitation had not come as much of a surprise for the tone of the relationship between Consul Giffard and Scott had changed markedly after the surrender of the city. This was especially so after Scott issued his proclamation to the “Good people of Mexico”, that the Americans came not as thieves, or ravagers of Mexican women, but wanting to be friends of all peaceful people and also of your religion and priesthood. And further that any American who injures you shall be punished, and in turn any citizen who injures us shall likewise be punished. We ask that you sell us supplies, and all who do so will be paid in cash and protected. Our goal is to resolve the two nations' differences quickly and end the war honorably with as little harm done to your fine nation as possible. The rapid change from antagonist to being friends of the Americans, not only by the British but all the foreign consuls, made Lee laugh. But then foreign consuls were selected for their ability to adapt quickly to conditions they couldn't change by subterfuge, bribery, or threat.

What did surprise Lee about the invitation was the request that the American generals bring a few young officers with them. The consuls and their staff members had daughters, nieces, and female cousins with them in this foreign land, and with music planned for the party there would be dancing and the young women would greatly appreciate handsome partners. Lee wondered what Scott had thought about the request. Anyway, and to Lee's delight, Scott had asked his staff officers to join him for the evening.

“Here's your uniform, captain,” Connally, Lee's servant, said from the open doorway. Connally was a slender white man whom Lee paid out of his salary. He was a skilled scrounger and kept Lee and himself in the best food available. “I knew you'd want to catch the eyes of the pretty gals at the party, so I put an extra fine press on it and a sharp shine on the buttons.”

“I'll need all the help I can get.”

“I doubt that, sir. I'll put your uniform on the bed. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You can take the rest of day off.”

“Thank you, sir.” Connally's footsteps faded away.

Lee donned his dress blue uniform with its two rows of brass buttons down the front of the frock coat and left the house. The streets were thick with off duty soldiers taking in the sights and searching for pleasure in the conquered city. A limited number of townsfolk were out and moving about quickly to complete their private missions and hasten back to their homes. Most of the citizens hadn't yet gotten used to the foreign soldiers. To enforce everybody's good behavior, Worth had squads of men patrolling the city.

Worth's division was billeted in the Mexican Army barracks on the south side of the town. Patterson's division of volunteers and Twiggs's division of regulars had been pulled out of the dunes and moved close to the city with their tent encampments now on the Plain Of Cocos and other locations where there were trees to provide shade from the sun growing ever hotter as the spring wore away toward summer. Outposts had been left behind on the old investment line, with pickets and cavalry patrols farther afield to provide an early warning of an advancing enemy. The American artillery had been brought in near the city's walls and made ready, together with the captured cannons, to repel any Mexican force attempting to retake the city.

Early in the day, Worth had given permission for the camp followers; the gamblers with their cards and spinning wheels, the whoremasters with their whores, stage actors, and sutlers of half a hundred types with their tools of trade and sales goods, to leave their ships and come ashore. They swarmed upon the wharf and swept into the town and hurriedly set up their businesses in deserted buildings or in tents they pitched in parks and vacant areas within the city. The gamblers and the whores showed remarkable quickness in providing instant and convenient vice to the soldiers.

The whores, the imported ones and the brown skinned locals were on the streets parading their well endowed bodies and smiling enticingly. They went through the hundreds of soldiers out on the town like fish seiners, and their nets caught many of the fish. Lee passed a brothel with the women displaying their wares in revealing clothing on the porch of a fashionable home with several bedrooms. Lee was struck by the red light hanging from the front of the porch. The English custom of marking a whorehouse with a red light had been brought to the States and now had been transported an even greater distance to the far shores of Mexico.

Lee came to the British consulate building; a splendid, imposing three-story structure built of white coral stone with many tall windows set on a quarter block of land overlooking the beautiful blue Mexican sea. Lee was met at the entrance by one of Giffard's servants in livery who guided the way to the ballroom, a huge room richly appointed with tapestry on the walls, polished wooden floor, and chairs and tables along the borders, and beyond all of that a grand dance floor where fifty couples could swing and promenade.

A large number of people had already gathered, American army officers in blue uniforms, the consulate men in tailored black suits, and the women in dresses as brightly colored as the tropical butterflies Lee had seen and marveled at in this land. People from the foreign delegations and the American officers laughed and held brisk conversations as if thousands of American cannon balls hadn't fallen upon the city from the sky and six hundred soldiers and civilians hadn't been killed. But then perhaps the gaiety existed because there had been a battle and these people had escaped harm. The hum of voices and the smiles brought a wave of nostalgia to Lee for they reminded him of the parties with music and dancing he and his wife held in Virginia when he was home on furlough from the army.

Lee saw Scott and his generals were present and congregated with the British, French, Spanish and Prussian Consuls in a jovial group. He noted Scott was in an expansive manner and had a right to be for he had captured the enemy's most important seaport at the small cost of nineteen men killed and sixty-three wounded. With the victory he gained possession of 400 pieces of artillery and thousands of small arms and ammunition

Lee moved across the ballroom, avoiding Scott and those gathered around him, and staying clear of other groups of men. He saw musicians with their instruments filing onto the bandstand located at the distant side of the dance floor and knew he had judged the time just right, in that he could dance with the pretty women instead of talking war and politics with the men.

He saw a tall brunette with green eyes set in a perfect oval face watching him from a group of women. He recognized Marie Dupois sister of French Vice Consul Rene Dupois. She had been introduced to Lee when he had been at the French Consulate waiting to arrange for a meeting between Scott and the Consul.

She caught Lee's eye upon her and smiled. He considered a smile from a pretty woman a gift of gold. Since he never knew for certain what lay behind a woman's smile, he was drawn to find out. Holding the woman's eyes, he went toward her. As he approached, Marie extracted herself from the group of women and moved a few feet steps away from them.

Lee halted before Marie and gave her a slight bow. “Miss Dubois, perhaps you remember me. I am Captain Lee.”

“Oh, I couldn't forget you, captain. You are one of the wicked soldiers who drove me from my home by shooting big cannons at it.”

“Never that,” Lee remonstrated taken aback by the charge. “I… We were always careful where we aimed our guns, though I understand the people living in the city wouldn't know that.” If she were going to criticize him about the bombardment, he would apologize and quickly retreat.

“I know you're not a wicked man,” she said with a low laugh and her eyes twinkling. “But I did have to leave my home and go to stay on one of my country's ships in the harbor for the last two days of your bombardment.”

“I regret you were forced to do that.” Lee had done as Scott ordered, aimed some cannon fire deeper into the city and near the consulates.

“Then make it up to me.”

“I will do so in any way that I can.”

“The penalty is, you must dance with me.”

“That wouldn't be a penalty. That would be a great pleasure.” Her directness was uncommon. Was it due to her loneliness in a foreign land where eligible white men of her station were few in number? Was her reasoning the same as his that he would be marching away from the city within the next few days and they would have but a little time to build and enjoy a friendship?

“Then I shall think of a penalty later,” Marie said.

The room filled with music as the band struck up a waltz. Marie gave Lee an inviting smile, and a nod as if to say, let's dance.

Lee took her into his arms, her flesh warm and soft beneath his hands. He swung her away to the rhythm of the music. Her long silk skirt with its color matching the green of her eyes, rustled with a sound of bird's wings as she moved. He felt a powerful attraction toward this lovely, friendly woman.

During the evening, Lee danced with other women for he knew Scott expected it, and would be watching the behavior of his officers. Often, but not too obvious, when the band struck up a new piece, he found Marie nearby, her doing he was certain, and they would dance to the excellent music. They were dancing together when the music ended for the last time.

As they walked from the dance floor, Marie spoke, “I have thought of a proper penalty for shooting cannons at my home.”

“Never at your home. But I accept your penalty nevertheless.”