CHAPTER XIV.

RETURN OF THE ARMY--MARRIAGE--ORDERED TO THE PACIFIC COAST--CROSSING THE

ISTHMUS--ARRIVAL AT SAN FRANCISCO.

My experience in the Mexican war was of great advantage to me

afterwards. Besides the many practical lessons it taught, the war

brought nearly all the officers of the regular army together so as to

make them personally acquainted. It also brought them in contact with

volunteers, many of whom served in the war of the rebellion afterwards.

Then, in my particular case, I had been at West Point at about the right

time to meet most of the graduates who were of a suitable age at the

breaking out of the rebellion to be trusted with large commands.

Graduating in 1843, I was at the military academy from one to four years

with all cadets who graduated between 1840 and 1846--seven classes.

These classes embraced more than fifty officers who afterwards became

generals on one side or the other in the rebellion, many of them holding

high commands. All the older officers, who became conspicuous in the

rebellion, I had also served with and known in Mexico: Lee, J. E.

Johnston, A. S. Johnston, Holmes, Hebert and a number of others on the

Confederate side; McCall, Mansfield, Phil. Kearney and others on the

National side. The acquaintance thus formed was of immense service to

me in the war of the rebellion--I mean what I learned of the characters

of those to whom I was afterwards opposed. I do not pretend to say that

all movements, or even many of them, were made with special reference to

the characteristics of the commander against whom they were directed.

But my appreciation of my enemies was certainly affected by this

knowledge. The natural disposition of most people is to clothe a

commander of a large army whom they do not know, with almost superhuman

abilities. A large part of the National army, for instance, and most of

the press of the country, clothed General Lee with just such qualities,

but I had known him personally, and knew that he was mortal; and it was

just as well that I felt this.

The treaty of peace was at last ratified, and the evacuation of Mexico

by United States troops was ordered. Early in June the troops in the

City of Mexico began to move out. Many of them, including the brigade

to which I belonged, were assembled at Jalapa, above the vomito, to

await the arrival of transports at Vera Cruz: but with all this

precaution my regiment and others were in camp on the sand beach in a

July sun, for about a week before embarking, while the fever raged with

great virulence in Vera Cruz, not two miles away. I can call to mind

only one person, an officer, who died of the disease. My regiment was

sent to Pascagoula, Mississippi, to spend the summer. As soon as it was

settled in camp I obtained a leave of absence for four months and

proceeded to St. Louis. On the 22d of August, 1848, I was married to

Miss Julia Dent, the lady of whom I have before spoken. We visited my

parents and relations in Ohio, and, at the end of my leave, proceeded to

my post at Sackett's Harbor, New York. In April following I was ordered

to Detroit, Michigan, where two years were spent with but few important

incidents.

The present constitution of the State of Michigan was ratified during

this time. By the terms of one of its provisions, all citizens of the

United States residing within the State at the time of the ratification

became citizens of Michigan also. During my stay in Detroit there was an

election for city officers. Mr. Zachariah Chandler was the candidate of

the Whigs for the office of Mayor, and was elected, although the city

was then reckoned democratic. All the officers stationed there at the

time who offered their votes were permitted to cast them. I did not

offer mine, however, as I did not wish to consider myself a citizen of

Michigan. This was Mr. Chandler's first entry into politics, a career

he followed ever after with great success, and in which he died enjoying

the friendship, esteem and love of his countrymen.

In the spring of 1851 the garrison at Detroit was transferred to

Sackett's Harbor, and in the following spring the entire 4th infantry

was ordered to the Pacific Coast. It was decided that Mrs. Grant should

visit my parents at first for a few months, and then remain with her own

family at their St. Louis home until an opportunity offered of sending

for her. In the month of April the regiment was assembled at Governor's

Island, New York Harbor, and on the 5th of July eight companies sailed

for Aspinwall. We numbered a little over seven hundred persons,

including the families of officers and soldiers. Passage was secured

for us on the old steamer Ohio, commanded at the time by Captain

Schenck, of the navy. It had not been determined, until a day or two

before starting, that the 4th infantry should go by the Ohio;

consequently, a complement of passengers had already been secured. The

addition of over seven hundred to this list crowded the steamer most

uncomfortably, especially for the tropics in July.

In eight days Aspinwall was reached. At that time the streets of the

town were eight or ten inches under water, and foot passengers passed

from place to place on raised foot-walks. July is at the height of the

wet season, on the Isthmus. At intervals the rain would pour down in

streams, followed in not many minutes by a blazing, tropical summer's

sun. These alternate changes, from rain to sunshine, were continuous in

the afternoons. I wondered how any person could live many months in

Aspinwall, and wondered still more why any one tried.

In the summer of 1852 the Panama railroad was completed only to the

point where it now crosses the Chagres River. From there passengers

were carried by boats to Gorgona, at which place they took mules for

Panama, some twenty-five miles further. Those who travelled over the

Isthmus in those days will remember that boats on the Chagres River were

propelled by natives not inconveniently burdened with clothing. These

boats carried thirty to forty passengers each. The crews consisted of

six men to a boat, armed with long poles. There were planks wide enough

for a man to walk on conveniently, running along the sides of each boat

from end to end. The men would start from the bow, place one end of

their poles against the river bottom, brace their shoulders against the

other end, and then walk to the stern as rapidly as they could. In this

way from a mile to a mile and a half an hour could be made, against the

current of the river.

I, as regimental quartermaster, had charge of the public property and

had also to look after the transportation. A contract had been entered

into with the steamship company in New York for the transportation of

the regiment to California, including the Isthmus transit. A certain

amount of baggage was allowed per man, and saddle animals were to be

furnished to commissioned officers and to all disabled persons. The

regiment, with the exception of one company left as guards to the public

property--camp and garrison equipage principally--and the soldiers with

families, took boats, propelled as above described, for Gorgona. From

this place they marched to Panama, and were soon comfortably on the

steamer anchored in the bay, some three or four miles from the town. I,

with one company of troops and all the soldiers with families, all the

tents, mess chests and camp kettles, was sent to Cruces, a town a few

miles higher up the Chagres River than Gorgona. There I found an

impecunious American who had taken the contract to furnish

transportation for the regiment at a stipulated price per hundred pounds

for the freight and so much for each saddle animal. But when we reached

Cruces there was not a mule, either for pack or saddle, in the place.

The contractor promised that the animals should be on hand in the

morning. In the morning he said that they were on the way from some

imaginary place, and would arrive in the course of the day. This went

on until I saw that he could not procure the animals at all at the price

he had promised to furnish them for. The unusual number of passengers

that had come over on the steamer, and the large amount of freight to

pack, had created an unprecedented demand for mules. Some of the

passengers paid as high as forty dollars for the use of a mule to ride

twenty-five miles, when the mule would not have sold for ten dollars in

that market at other times. Meanwhile the cholera had broken out, and

men were dying every hour. To diminish the food for the disease, I

permitted the company detailed with me to proceed to Panama. The

captain and the doctors accompanied the men, and I was left alone with

the sick and the soldiers who had families. The regiment at Panama was

also affected with the disease; but there were better accommodations for

the well on the steamer, and a hospital, for those taken with the

disease, on an old hulk anchored a mile off. There were also hospital

tents on shore on the island of Flamingo, which stands in the bay.

I was about a week at Cruces before transportation began to come in.

About one-third of the people with me died, either at Cruces or on the

way to Panama. There was no agent of the transportation company at

Cruces to consult, or to take the responsibility of procuring

transportation at a price which would secure it. I therefore myself

dismissed the contractor and made a new contract with a native, at more

than double the original price. Thus we finally reached Panama. The

steamer, however, could not proceed until the cholera abated, and the

regiment was detained still longer. Altogether, on the Isthmus and on

the Pacific side, we were delayed six weeks. About one-seventh of those

who left New York harbor with the 4th infantry on the 5th of July, now

lie buried on the Isthmus of Panama or on Flamingo island in Panama Bay.

One amusing circumstance occurred while we were lying at anchor in

Panama Bay. In the regiment there was a Lieutenant Slaughter who was

very liable to sea-sickness. It almost made him sick to see the wave of

a table-cloth when the servants were spreading it. Soon after his

graduation, Slaughter was ordered to California and took passage by a

sailing vessel going around Cape Horn. The vessel was seven months

making the voyage, and Slaughter was sick every moment of the time,

never more so than while lying at anchor after reaching his place of

destination. On landing in California he found orders which had come by

the Isthmus, notifying him of a mistake in his assignment; he should

have been ordered to the northern lakes. He started back by the Isthmus

route and was sick all the way. But when he arrived at the East he was

again ordered to California, this time definitely, and at this date was

making his third trip. He was as sick as ever, and had been so for more

than a month while lying at anchor in the bay. I remember him well,

seated with his elbows on the table in front of him, his chin between

his hands, and looking the picture of despair. At last he broke out, "I

wish I had taken my father's advice; he wanted me to go into the navy;

if I had done so, I should not have had to go to sea so much." Poor

Slaughter! it was his last sea voyage. He was killed by Indians in

Oregon.

By the last of August the cholera had so abated that it was deemed safe

to start. The disease did not break out again on the way to California,

and we reached San Francisco early in September.