Authors: Jason Manning
The post surgeon, John Strother Griffin, a veteran army doctor whose better than average medical skills were matched by his talent for profanity, was still conducting physical examinations on the hundreds of volunteers. Because of the rush to put men into the field, the physical exams of volunteers did not often meet War Department requirements. But Kearny insisted that the men who followed him to Santa Fe were to be subjected to physicals in strict accordance with the Army's regulations. The expedition would be an arduous one, and Kearny did not care to be hampered by a long sick train.
Regulations required that the recruit disrobe completely. This was so the inspector could search for brands authorities might have previously applied to the man's flesh. D for deserter, or HD for habitual drunkard, were often tattooed on a hip or under an arm of any man who had already proven himself unfit for military life.
In addition, the doctor looked for obvious abnormalities that might have been successfully concealed by a fully clothed enlistee. Any man with a deformed or missing limb, or flat feet, was immediately rejected, as was any person who happened to be blind, or nearly so, in one eye. The recruit also had to have his own front teeth, and
they were to be strong enough to tear open a musket cartridge. A man was asked to stand on one foot and then the other to demonstrate a sense of balance.
These examinations of Doniphan's Volunteers exposed an extraordinary situation on the very day that Delgado and Jeremy arrived at Fort Leavenworth. A man had previously asked for and received permission to bring his younger brother along on the expedition, explaining that otherwise the boy would be left completely on his own and destitute, as their parents had recently drowned during a river crossing. Rumors had begun to circulate regarding the true relationship of the two, so that Doniphan had asked Dr. Griffin to examine the boy, who in the normal course of events would not have been given a physical. The boy turned out to be a young lady, one of dubious virtue, an abandoned female who had served as a camp helper during the day and satisfied the recruit's sexual cravings at night. The woman was sent on her way, and the recruit was tossed into the guardhouse.
After passing the physical examination, the recruit was given a thorough washing. His hair was cut close to his head. He then received his uniform. These were to conform as closely as possible to that worn by a Regular. The U.S. Army infantryman wore sky-blue trousers and a close-fitting wool jacket called a roundabout, a single-breasted garment with pewter buttons and a stiff collar. Most of the volunteers had uniforms that closely approximated this garb.
The law calling the volunteers to service also required the government to provide the recruits with weapons. Many of the men had brought
along their own guns, but trying to supply an army with ammunition to fit every variety and caliber of rifle and musket was impossible. As a consequence, Doniphan's men were armed with the standard, government-issue, .69-caliber smooth-bore flintlock musket, delivered from a federal armory, in addition to bayonets and cartridge boxes. The cartridge, known as the "buck and ball," contained a round lead ball weighing about one ounce, and three smaller balls, or buckshot, contained in a paper cartridge along with a measure of gunpowder, the whole held together with a combination of glue and string. The shooter tore the end of the cartridge open with his teeth, poured a little powder in the pan, closed the frizzen over the pan, then poured the rest of the powder in the barrel, along with the "buck and ball" and the cartridge paper itself. This was tamped down firmly into the barrel with a ramrod. The musket was then cocked and fired. The flint secured in the cocking piece struck the steel frizzen, which flipped forward, allowing sparks to fall into the gunpowder contained in the pan. The powder, in burning, dropped a spark through a small hole in the barrel, which in turn ignited the main powder charge, discharging the "buck and ball."
Doniphan assured Jeremy that most of the volunteers could shoot, and Jeremy found this to be true, which was fortunate, since the musket was notoriously inaccurate and had a range of approximately one hundred yards. "Test firings," he told Delgado, "have demonstrated that if ten men fire by volley five times at a target two-foot-square at a range of one hundred yards, only five of the fifty balls will hit the target. At a range of two or
three hundred yards a man could shoot at you all day and you might never know it."
The problem was not in teaching the volunteers how to shoot, but rather how to handle their weapons according to the manual of arms. Winfield Scott's drill manual was the one currently in vogue. Jeremy discovered to his dismay that quite a few of the volunteers were recent German immigrants who had a less than adequate grasp of the English language. "They don't understand the difference," he complained to Delgado, "between the commands to charge their muskets, charge the enemy, and charge the United States for services rendered!" From what he saw, Delgado could sympathize with his friend. These raw recruits were very raw indeed.
For a week Delgado idled about Fort Leavenworth, trying to stay out of the way. He was anxious to get started on the trek. So was Kearny. But the general had many logistical problems to deal with first. Tent and camp kettles were in very short supply. With so many of his Regulars needed for patrols, he could spare only three hundred dragoons for the expedition. This number was augmented by the one hundred men in an irregular but well-trained unit called Laclede's Rangers, an experienced bunch of mercenaries from St. Louis. As a result, Kearny realized that Doniphan's one thousand men, forming the bulk of what was being called the Army of the West, needed to be as well-drilled as possible. On the other hand, Kearny did not want to linger too long at Fort Leavenworth, for fear that the unruly recruits would be more easily controlled once they were on the march. While here, they had demonstrated a tendency to go over the wall. Some in
dulged in a little innocent hunting or fishing, while others engaged in pursuits far less innocuous. Peddlers were enjoying a brisk trade selling the volunteers overpriced "Canal Water"—cheap whiskey—and nearby settlements complained about visitations by these frolicksome and usually drunken hell-raisers.
Meanwhile, Hugh Falconer was getting acquainted with the Shawnees and Delawares, some fifty in number, whom Kearny had wisely employed as scouts. These Indians, once members of powerful Eastern tribes, had ventured west to make their living in the fur trade. Falconer knew some of them; they were invariably friendly to the whites, were generally trusted by the mountain men, and had been fixtures at the annual fur trade rendezvous held in the high country for the past twenty years. As a whole they knew and respected Falconer who, among the mountain men, held an exalted position equaled only by the likes of "Broken Hand" Fitzpatrick, Jedediah Smith, William Sublette, and Jim Bridger.
During this time Delgado's thoughts were on Sarah Bledsoe nearly every waking moment. He chafed at the bit, knowing that the sooner he got home the sooner he would get back to St. Louis. At last he confided in Sterling; their acquaintance had matured into friendship, and they spent a lot of time together since both of them had a lot of idle time. They challenged, and in almost every instance defeated, Kearny's officers at whist.
"I would like to write to her," Delgado told the newspaperman. "But I am fairly certain her father will intercept any communication bearing my name."
"I heard about what you and Miss Bledsoe
did," said Sterling, amused. "The two of you brewed up quite a storm in a very short time."
"You don't approve?"
"Oh, no, I didn't say that, my friend. But I can understand Jacob Bledsoe's point of view. He wants to keep you and his daughter apart for the same reason a man would want to keep fire and gunpowder separated. You and Miss Bledsoe are an explosive combination."
"From wanting to keep me in St. Louis for my father's sake, Mr. Bledsoe made a quick turnabout. He couldn't wait to be rid of me. But he will not be able to keep Sarah and me apart. I love her, and she has promised to wait for me. I will return one day soon."
"By that time, Del, I suspect Jacob will have come to his senses. He had his heart set on pairing his daughter with Brent Horan, with his eye firmly fixed on the Horan fortune. But he will not press the issue once he realizes that to Sarah you are more than a passing fancy. He loves his daughter, when all is said and done, and wants her to be happy. And sooner or later it will occur to him that you are not exactly a pauper. You stand to inherit your father's business, I presume."
"Well, yes . . ."
"There you are, then. Don't worry about Jacob Bledsoe. Now, Brent Horan is another matter entirely. You have put a gun to his ribs, and then you stole his girl. I warrant he won't soon forget you."
"I'll worry about that when the time comes."
"Good idea. You can't very well cross a bridge before you come to it, now can you? As for your communicating with the future Mrs. McKinn, the solution is simple. We will attach your letters to
my correspondence with the
Enquirer
. There is an individual there upon whom we can rely. He is not only discreet, but resourceful. He is also very loyal to me, as I am responsible for his present position. He will make certain that Miss Bledsoe receives your letters, and her father will be none the wiser."
"But how?"
"Clarisse will serve as go-between. She is devoted to Miss Bledsoe. And my associate, in turn, is devoted to Clarisse. So you see, for every problem there is a solution."
That evening Delgado wrote his letter, pouring out his heart to Sarah, telling her how much he loved her, how terribly he ached being apart from her, and how determined he was to return as soon as possible so that they could begin their life together. The following morning this letter, among Sterling's dispatches, headed for St. Louis aboard the downriver steamer.
3
With no enemy within hundreds of miles, Kearny had seen no risk involved in dispersing his force. Within a few days of Delgado's arrival, he had sent three companies of dragoons down the trail to Santa Fe, and now, a week later, he dispatched several companies of the First Missouri Volunteers.
"Forage and firewood will be a problem, especially as the summer progresses," he explained to Sterling, who assured the general that his readers would want to know why the Army of the West was being conveyed westward in a piecemeal
fashion. "Tomorrow, Colonel Doniphan will depart with the remainder of his regiment. I shall follow the day after with the rest of my dragoons. Doniphan will be in charge of the wagon train and the cattle herd. In all, we shall field sixteen hundred men. You will see, Mr. Sterling, that our advance will be more timely, and more comfortable for all concerned, if we are not all bunched together in a single column."
On the evening prior to their departure from Fort Leavenworth, Kearny invited Delgado, Falconer, and Sterling to dine with him and his staff officers, which included Surgeon John Griffin and Lieutenant William Emory. The latter headed a detachment of Topographical Engineers recently sent from Washington to accompany the army. It was a hearty meal consisting of beef steaks, glazed duck, fresh vegetables culled from the fort's prospering gardens, cherry cobbler, and plenty of hot coffee and brandy.
"Gentlemen," said Kearny after everyone had eaten their fill, "I have just today received two communiques which I am confident will be of interest to you. One is from Charles Bent, who only recently left the Taos and Santa Fe area. He has met with Governor Armijo, and the governor told him that he was expecting from three to five thousand troops from Mexico, under the command of General Urrea."
"Urrea!" exclaimed Emory. "Is he not the Mexican commander responsible for the Goliad massacre?"
"The very same," replied Kearny, "although I have heard he was merely following the orders of Santa Anna, and actually lodged a formal protest."
"Regardless, he had five hundred Texas prison
ers shot down in cold blood," said Emory. "Our volunteers will certainly like to know this."
"I believe we shall have a fight on our hands," remarked Sterling.
"Don't be too sure," said Delgado. "For one thing, I will be very much surprised if Mexico can spare so many troops. For another, perhaps Mr. Bent did not know to inform you that Armijo and General Urrea have a strong dislike for one another."
"I was unaware of that," confessed Kearny. "Mr. McKinn, you have already proven yourself a valuable asset to this endeavor."
"I am only glad to be of service, General."
"I have also been informed, by confidential and reliable sources, that a group of American settlers in California, with the blessings of Captain John C. Frémont, have created the Bear Flag Republic. As you all know, the president has vowed to assist Californians in their bid for independence."
"Don't you think that is rather contrived, General?" asked Sterling wryly. "There are perhaps nine hundred Americans residing in California, less than one tenth of the province's total population. I don't think anyone can honestly say that California as a whole seeks independence from the Republic of Mexico. We all know California is what President Polk is really after. He simply doesn't want it to appear as though we have taken it by conquest."
"Sir," said Emory, "it is well known that British investors hold Mexican bonds in great quantity—bonds which are about to mature, and which Mexico cannot redeem. Britain also holds a mortgage on the province of California as security for the payment of that debt. I have been told, and believe
it to be true, that the British will take possession in six months."
Sterling shook his head. "Really, Lieutenant. Your facts are slightly skewed in favor of your politics. The Mexican minister in London offered options on vacant lands in a number of provinces to the bondholders in lieu of cash payment. None of the options have been exercised, nor are they likely to be."
"I take it you are a Whig, sir," said Emory, with distaste.
"I am. And a Clay man, besides. I would have mentioned it before now, but I did not want to ruin anyone's appetite."