Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Complete by Ulysses S. Grant
CHAPTER III.
3786 words | Chapter 38
ARMY LIFE--CAUSES OF THE MEXICAN WAR--CAMP SALUBRITY.
On the 30th of September I reported for duty at Jefferson Barracks, St.
Louis, with the 4th United States infantry. It was the largest military
post in the country at that time, being garrisoned by sixteen companies
of infantry, eight of the 3d regiment, the remainder of the 4th.
Colonel Steven Kearney, one of the ablest officers of the day, commanded
the post, and under him discipline was kept at a high standard, but
without vexatious rules or regulations. Every drill and roll-call had
to be attended, but in the intervals officers were permitted to enjoy
themselves, leaving the garrison, and going where they pleased, without
making written application to state where they were going for how long,
etc., so that they were back for their next duty. It did seem to me, in
my early army days, that too many of the older officers, when they came
to command posts, made it a study to think what orders they could
publish to annoy their subordinates and render them uncomfortable. I
noticed, however, a few years later, when the Mexican war broke out,
that most of this class of officers discovered they were possessed of
disabilities which entirely incapacitated them for active field service.
They had the moral courage to proclaim it, too. They were right; but
they did not always give their disease the right name.
At West Point I had a class-mate--in the last year of our studies he was
room-mate also--F. T. Dent, whose family resided some five miles west of
Jefferson Barracks. Two of his unmarried brothers were living at home
at that time, and as I had taken with me from Ohio, my horse, saddle and
bridle, I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the Dent
estate. As I found the family congenial my visits became frequent.
There were at home, besides the young men, two daughters, one a school
miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight or nine. There was still an
older daughter of seventeen, who had been spending several years at
boarding-school in St. Louis, but who, though through school, had not
yet returned home. She was spending the winter in the city with
connections, the family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St.
Louis. In February she returned to her country home. After that I do
not know but my visits became more frequent; they certainly did become
more enjoyable. We would often take walks, or go on horseback to visit
the neighbors, until I became quite well acquainted in that vicinity.
Sometimes one of the brothers would accompany us, sometimes one of the
younger sisters. If the 4th infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks
it is possible, even probable, that this life might have continued for
some years without my finding out that there was anything serious the
matter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred which
developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no mistaking it.
The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of violent
discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals. The
administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the most
strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was, indeed, the great
and absorbing question of the day. During these discussions the greater
part of the single rifle regiment in the army--the 2d dragoons, which
had been dismounted a year or two before, and designated "Dismounted
Rifles"--was stationed at Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles
east of the Texas line, to observe the frontier. About the 1st of May
the 3d infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go
into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await further
orders. The troops were embarked on steamers and were on their way down
the Mississippi within a few days after the receipt of this order.
About the time they started I obtained a leave of absence for twenty
days to go to Ohio to visit my parents. I was obliged to go to St.
Louis to take a steamer for Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first
steamer going up the Ohio River to any point. Before I left St. Louis
orders were received at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th infantry to
follow the 3d. A messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but
before he could reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events. A
day or two after my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from a
classmate and fellow lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of the
circumstances related above, and advising me not to open any letter post
marked St. Louis or Jefferson Barracks, until the expiration of my
leave, and saying that he would pack up my things and take them along
for me. His advice was not necessary, for no other letter was sent to
me. I now discovered that I was exceedingly anxious to get back to
Jefferson Barracks, and I understood the reason without explanation from
any one. My leave of absence required me to report for duty, at
Jefferson Barracks, at the end of twenty days. I knew my regiment had
gone up the Red River, but I was not disposed to break the letter of my
leave; besides, if I had proceeded to Louisiana direct, I could not have
reached there until after the expiration of my leave. Accordingly, at
the end of the twenty days, I reported for duty to Lieutenant Ewell,
commanding at Jefferson Barracks, handing him at the same time my leave
of absence. After noticing the phraseology of the order--leaves of
absence were generally worded, "at the end of which time he will report
for duty with his proper command"--he said he would give me an order to
join my regiment in Louisiana. I then asked for a few days' leave
before starting, which he readily granted. This was the same Ewell who
acquired considerable reputation as a Confederate general during the
rebellion. He was a man much esteemed, and deservedly so, in the old
army, and proved himself a gallant and efficient officer in two wars
--both in my estimation unholy.
I immediately procured a horse and started for the country, taking no
baggage with me, of course. There is an insignificant creek--the
Gravois--between Jefferson Barracks and the place to which I was going,
and at that day there was not a bridge over it from its source to its
mouth. There is not water enough in the creek at ordinary stages to run
a coffee mill, and at low water there is none running whatever. On this
occasion it had been raining heavily, and, when the creek was reached, I
found the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid. I looked at
it a moment to consider what to do. One of my superstitions had always
been when I started to go any where, or to do anything, not to turn
back, or stop until the thing intended was accomplished. I have
frequently started to go to places where I had never been and to which I
did not know the way, depending upon making inquiries on the road, and
if I got past the place without knowing it, instead of turning back, I
would go on until a road was found turning in the right direction, take
that, and come in by the other side. So I struck into the stream, and
in an instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by the
current. I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon reached it,
wet through and without other clothes on that side of the stream. I
went on, however, to my destination and borrowed a dry suit from my
--future--brother-in-law. We were not of the same size, but the clothes
answered every purpose until I got more of my own.
Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in the most
awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made on learning that the
4th infantry had been ordered away from Jefferson Barracks. The young
lady afterwards admitted that she too, although until then she had never
looked upon me other than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to
her, had experienced a depression of spirits she could not account for
when the regiment left. Before separating it was definitely understood
that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not let the
removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May, 1844. It was the
22d of August, 1848, before the fulfilment of this agreement. My duties
kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with the Army of Observation during
the pendency of Annexation; and afterwards I was absent through the war
with Mexico, provoked by the action of the army, if not by the
annexation itself. During that time there was a constant correspondence
between Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of four
years and three months. In May, 1845, I procured a leave for twenty
days, visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of the parents for the
union, which had not been asked for before.
As already stated, it was never my intention to remain in the army long,
but to prepare myself for a professorship in some college. Accordingly,
soon after I was settled at Jefferson Barracks, I wrote a letter to
Professor Church--Professor of Mathematics at West Point--requesting him
to ask my designation as his assistant, when next a detail had to be
made. Assistant professors at West Point are all officers of the army,
supposed to be selected for their special fitness for the particular
branch of study they are assigned to teach. The answer from Professor
Church was entirely satisfactory, and no doubt I should have been
detailed a year or two later but for the Mexican War coming on.
Accordingly I laid out for myself a course of studies to be pursued in
garrison, with regularity, if not persistency. I reviewed my West Point
course of mathematics during the seven months at Jefferson Barracks, and
read many valuable historical works, besides an occasional novel. To
help my memory I kept a book in which I would write up, from time to
time, my recollections of all I had read since last posting it. When
the regiment was ordered away, I being absent at the time, my effects
were packed up by Lieutenant Haslett, of the 4th infantry, and taken
along. I never saw my journal after, nor did I ever keep another,
except for a portion of the time while travelling abroad. Often since a
fear has crossed my mind lest that book might turn up yet, and fall into
the hands of some malicious person who would publish it. I know its
appearance would cause me as much heart-burning as my youthful
horse-trade, or the later rebuke for wearing uniform clothes.
The 3d infantry had selected camping grounds on the reservation at Fort
Jessup, about midway between the Red River and the Sabine. Our orders
required us to go into camp in the same neighborhood, and await further
instructions. Those authorized to do so selected a place in the pine
woods, between the old town of Natchitoches and Grand Ecore, about three
miles from each, and on high ground back from the river. The place was
given the name of Camp Salubrity, and proved entitled to it. The camp
was on a high, sandy, pine ridge, with spring branches in the valley, in
front and rear. The springs furnished an abundance of cool, pure water,
and the ridge was above the flight of mosquitoes, which abound in that
region in great multitudes and of great voracity. In the valley they
swarmed in myriads, but never came to the summit of the ridge. The
regiment occupied this camp six months before the first death occurred,
and that was caused by an accident.
There was no intimation given that the removal of the 3d and 4th
regiments of infantry to the western border of Louisiana was occasioned
in any way by the prospective annexation of Texas, but it was generally
understood that such was the case. Ostensibly we were intended to
prevent filibustering into Texas, but really as a menace to Mexico in
case she appeared to contemplate war. Generally the officers of the
army were indifferent whether the annexation was consummated or not; but
not so all of them. For myself, I was bitterly opposed to the measure,
and to this day regard the war, which resulted, as one of the most
unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation. It was an
instance of a republic following the bad example of European monarchies,
in not considering justice in their desire to acquire additional
territory. Texas was originally a state belonging to the republic of
Mexico. It extended from the Sabine River on the east to the Rio Grande
on the west, and from the Gulf of Mexico on the south and east to the
territory of the United States and New Mexico--another Mexican state at
that time--on the north and west. An empire in territory, it had but a
very sparse population, until settled by Americans who had received
authority from Mexico to colonize. These colonists paid very little
attention to the supreme government, and introduced slavery into the
state almost from the start, though the constitution of Mexico did not,
nor does it now, sanction that institution. Soon they set up an
independent government of their own, and war existed, between Texas and
Mexico, in name from that time until 1836, when active hostilities very
nearly ceased upon the capture of Santa Anna, the Mexican President.
Before long, however, the same people--who with permission of Mexico had
colonized Texas, and afterwards set up slavery there, and then seceded
as soon as they felt strong enough to do so--offered themselves and the
State to the United States, and in 1845 their offer was accepted. The
occupation, separation and annexation were, from the inception of the
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.
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