Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Complete
movement to its final consummation, a conspiracy to acquire territory
out of which slave states might be formed for the American Union.
Even if the annexation itself could be justified, the manner in which
the subsequent war was forced upon Mexico cannot. The fact is,
annexationists wanted more territory than they could possibly lay any
claim to, as part of the new acquisition. Texas, as an independent
State, never had exercised jurisdiction over the territory between the
Nueces River and the Rio Grande. Mexico had never recognized the
independence of Texas, and maintained that, even if independent, the
State had no claim south of the Nueces. I am aware that a treaty, made
by the Texans with Santa Anna while he was under duress, ceded all the
territory between the Nueces and the Rio Grande--, but he was a prisoner
of war when the treaty was made, and his life was in jeopardy. He knew,
too, that he deserved execution at the hands of the Texans, if they
should ever capture him. The Texans, if they had taken his life, would
have only followed the example set by Santa Anna himself a few years
before, when he executed the entire garrison of the Alamo and the
villagers of Goliad.
In taking military possession of Texas after annexation, the army of
occupation, under General Taylor, was directed to occupy the disputed
territory. The army did not stop at the Nueces and offer to negotiate
for a settlement of the boundary question, but went beyond, apparently
in order to force Mexico to initiate war. It is to the credit of the
American nation, however, that after conquering Mexico, and while
practically holding the country in our possession, so that we could have
retained the whole of it, or made any terms we chose, we paid a round
sum for the additional territory taken; more than it was worth, or was
likely to be, to Mexico. To us it was an empire and of incalculable
value; but it might have been obtained by other means. The Southern
rebellion was largely the outgrowth of the Mexican war. Nations, like
individuals, are punished for their transgressions. We got our
punishment in the most sanguinary and expensive war of modern times.
The 4th infantry went into camp at Salubrity in the month of May, 1844,
with instructions, as I have said, to await further orders. At first,
officers and men occupied ordinary tents. As the summer heat increased
these were covered by sheds to break the rays of the sun. The summer
was whiled away in social enjoyments among the officers, in visiting
those stationed at, and near, Fort Jessup, twenty-five miles away,
visiting the planters on the Red River, and the citizens of Natchitoches
and Grand Ecore. There was much pleasant intercourse between the
inhabitants and the officers of the army. I retain very agreeable
recollections of my stay at Camp Salubrity, and of the acquaintances
made there, and no doubt my feeling is shared by the few officers living
who were there at the time. I can call to mind only two officers of the
4th infantry, besides myself, who were at Camp Salubrity with the
regiment, who are now alive.
With a war in prospect, and belonging to a regiment that had an unusual
number of officers detailed on special duty away from the regiment, my
hopes of being ordered to West Point as instructor vanished. At the
time of which I now write, officers in the quartermaster's, commissary's
and adjutant--general's departments were appointed from the line of the
army, and did not vacate their regimental commissions until their
regimental and staff commissions were for the same grades. Generally
lieutenants were appointed to captaincies to fill vacancies in the staff
corps. If they should reach a captaincy in the line before they arrived
at a majority in the staff, they would elect which commission they would
retain. In the 4th infantry, in 1844, at least six line officers were
on duty in the staff, and therefore permanently detached from the
regiment. Under these circumstances I gave up everything like a special
course of reading, and only read thereafter for my own amusement, and
not very much for that, until the war was over. I kept a horse and
rode, and staid out of doors most of the time by day, and entirely
recovered from the cough which I had carried from West Point, and from
all indications of consumption. I have often thought that my life was
saved, and my health restored, by exercise and exposure, enforced by an
administrative act, and a war, both of which I disapproved.
As summer wore away, and cool days and colder nights came upon us, the
tents. We were occupying ceased to afford comfortable quarters; and
"further orders" not reaching us, we began to look about to remedy the
hardship. Men were put to work getting out timber to build huts, and in
a very short time all were comfortably housed--privates as well as
officers. The outlay by the government in accomplishing this was
nothing, or nearly nothing. The winter was spent more agreeably than
the summer had been. There were occasional parties given by the
planters along the "coast"--as the bottom lands on the Red River were
called. The climate was delightful.
Near the close of the short session of Congress of 1844-5, the bill for
the annexation of Texas to the United States was passed. It reached
President Tyler on the 1st of March, 1845, and promptly received his
approval. When the news reached us we began to look again for "further
orders." They did not arrive promptly, and on the 1st of May following
I asked and obtained a leave of absence for twenty days, for the purpose
of visiting--St. Louis. The object of this visit has been before
stated.
Early in July the long expected orders were received, but they only
took the regiment to New Orleans Barracks. We reached there before the
middle of the month, and again waited weeks for still further orders.
The yellow fever was raging in New Orleans during the time we remained
there, and the streets of the city had the appearance of a continuous
well-observed Sunday. I recollect but one occasion when this observance
seemed to be broken by the inhabitants. One morning about daylight I
happened to be awake, and, hearing the discharge of a rifle not far
off, I looked out to ascertain where the sound came from. I observed a
couple of clusters of men near by, and learned afterwards that "it was
nothing; only a couple of gentlemen deciding a difference of opinion
with rifles, at twenty paces." I do not remember if either was killed,
or even hurt, but no doubt the question of difference was settled
satisfactorily, and "honorably," in the estimation of the parties
engaged. I do not believe I ever would have the courage to fight a
duel. If any man should wrong me to the extent of my being willing to
kill him, I would not be willing to give him the choice of weapons with
which it should be done, and of the time, place and distance separating
us, when I executed him. If I should do another such a wrong as to
justify him in killing me, I would make any reasonable atonement within
my power, if convinced of the wrong done. I place my opposition to
duelling on higher grounds than any here stated. No doubt a majority
of the duels fought have been for want of moral courage on the part of
those engaged to decline.
At Camp Salubrity, and when we went to New Orleans Barracks, the 4th
infantry was commanded by Colonel Vose, then an old gentleman who had
not commanded on drill for a number of years. He was not a man to
discover infirmity in the presence of danger. It now appeared that war
was imminent, and he felt that it was his duty to brush up his tactics.
Accordingly, when we got settled down at our new post, he took command
of the regiment at a battalion drill. Only two or three evolutions had
been gone through when he dismissed the battalion, and, turning to go to
his own quarters, dropped dead. He had not been complaining of ill
health, but no doubt died of heart disease. He was a most estimable
man, of exemplary habits, and by no means the author of his own disease.
CHAPTER IV.
CORPUS CHRISTI--MEXICAN SMUGGLING--SPANISH RULE IN MEXICO--SUPPLYING
TRANSPORTATION.
Early in September the regiment left New Orleans for Corpus Christi, now
in Texas. Ocean steamers were not then common, and the passage was made
in sailing vessels. At that time there was not more than three feet of
water in the channel at the outlet of Corpus Christi Bay; the
debarkation, therefore, had to take place by small steamers, and at an
island in the channel called Shell Island, the ships anchoring some
miles out from shore. This made the work slow, and as the army was only
supplied with one or two steamers, it took a number of days to effect
the landing of a single regiment with its stores, camp and garrison
equipage, etc. There happened to be pleasant weather while this was
going on, but the land-swell was so great that when the ship and steamer
were on opposite sides of the same wave they would be at considerable
distance apart. The men and baggage were let down to a point higher
than the lower deck of the steamer, and when ship and steamer got into
the trough between the waves, and were close together, the load would be
drawn over the steamer and rapidly run down until it rested on the deck.
After I had gone ashore, and had been on guard several days at Shell
Island, quite six miles from the ship, I had occasion for some reason or
other to return on board. While on the Suviah--I think that was the
name of our vessel--I heard a tremendous racket at the other end of the
ship, and much and excited sailor language, such as "damn your eyes,"
etc. In a moment or two the captain, who was an excitable little man,
dying with consumption, and not weighing much over a hundred pounds,
came running out, carrying a sabre nearly as large and as heavy as he
was, and crying, that his men had mutinied. It was necessary to sustain
the captain without question, and in a few minutes all the sailors
charged with mutiny were in irons. I rather felt for a time a wish that
I had not gone aboard just then. As the men charged with mutiny
submitted to being placed in irons without resistance, I always doubted
if they knew that they had mutinied until they were told.
By the time I was ready to leave the ship again I thought I had learned
enough of the working of the double and single pulley, by which
passengers were let down from the upper deck of the ship to the steamer
below, and determined to let myself down without assistance. Without
saying anything of my intentions to any one, I mounted the railing, and
taking hold of the centre rope, just below the upper block, I put one
foot on the hook below the lower block, and stepped off just as I did so
some one called out "hold on." It was too late. I tried to "hold on"
with all my might, but my heels went up, and my head went down so
rapidly that my hold broke, and I plunged head foremost into the water,
some twenty-five feet below, with such velocity that it seemed to me I
never would stop. When I came to the surface again, being a fair
swimmer, and not having lost my presence of mind, I swam around until a
bucket was let down for me, and I was drawn up without a scratch or
injury. I do not believe there was a man on board who sympathized with
me in the least when they found me uninjured. I rather enjoyed the joke
myself. The captain of the Suviah died of his disease a few months later,
and I believe before the mutineers were tried. I hope they got clear,
because, as before stated, I always thought the mutiny was all in the
brain of a very weak and sick man.
After reaching shore, or Shell Island, the labor of getting to Corpus
Christi was slow and tedious. There was, if my memory serves me, but