A Ballad of Love and Glory(91)



Padre Sebastián coughed, bringing her back to the chapel, to her betrothed looking beseechingly at her. She couldn’t let her dream ruin their wedding day. When the priest repeated the question, this time she didn’t hesitate. “Sí, acepto,” she said softly. John sighed in relief and bent toward her. As she felt his lips upon her own, her lips parted, and she kissed him deeply. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. No, they didn’t have much time left, but she would make sure the hours that remained were the best hours they could have together.



* * *



The next morning, she watched Riley and his men gather at the Plaza de la Constitución as Santa Anna’s army prepared to march out and confront the enemy. Ximena stood among the thousands of city residents who had come to bid them farewell. Her eyes scanned the troops and spotted her husband upon his horse at the head of the columns. Her eyes lingered on the faces of the foreign soldiers clad in their blue uniforms and red tasseled caps. She could feel John’s eyes looking at her from beneath the visor of his shako. She wished to shout out to him, to tell him that she loved him, no matter what, to beg him not to go. But she knew he wouldn’t hear her above the patriotic music meant to give courage to the men as they headed to battle, and so she only returned his gaze in silence and tried to be strong, for him, for his men. As John and Patrick Dalton rode alongside the other officers, the troops marched out of the plaza and the crowd shouted, “?Vivan los San Patricios!” The distance between them grew bigger and bigger, and she could no longer see him, but she could still see his pride and joy flapping in the morning breeze above the columns—the green banner of the Saint Patrick’s Battalion.

She turned and pushed her way through the throng. In her hand she carried a handwritten letter John had composed the night before. She’d watched him sitting by candlelight, trying to find the right words as he put ink to paper, and she sat nude under the sheets, her lips throbbing, her body ravaged by their insatiable lovemaking, her mind struggling to speak no more of her visions, of what she knew to be true.

John had bid her to take this letter to the printer’s that day and have the pamphlets delivered into the hands of General Scott’s foreign soldiers.

To My Friends and Countrymen in the Army of the United States of America, the letter began. She hurried out of the plaza and read it once again before taking it to the printer.

The President of this Republic once more offers to you his hand & invites you, in the name of the religion you profess, the various countries in which you first drew the breath of existence, of honor and of patriotism, to withhold your hands from the slaughter of a nation whose thoughts or deeds never injured you or yours.

My countrymen, Irishmen! I call upon you for I know your feelings on this subject well, for the sake of that chivalry for which you are celebrated, for that love of liberty for which our common country is so long contending, for the sake of that holy religion which we have for ages professed, I conjure you to abandon a slavish hireling’s life with a nation who in even the moment of victory treats you with contumely & disgrace.

My countrymen, I have experienced the hospitality of the citizens of this Republic; from the moment I extended them the hand of friendship, I was received with kindness; though poor, I was relieved; though undeserving, I was respected, and I pledge you my oath, that the same feelings extended toward me await you also.





34


August 1847

Churubusco, outskirts of Mexico City

They marched ten miles across the National Highway to confront Scott’s army as it approached from Puebla in the east. Santa Anna distributed his forces to block Scott’s path, focusing the bulk of his troops on strengthening the main position at El Pe?ón, a fortified hill that commanded the road to Mexico City. But when his scouts alerted him that Scott had chosen to avoid the National Highway and had taken a circuitous southern route, Santa Anna quickly set up a new line of defense south of the city and positioned his three units around the villages of Churubusco, San ángel, and Coyoacán, all of which were situated around an impassable, desolate field of volcanic rock known as El Pedregal. Each unit was strategically placed within five miles of each other for quick reinforcement. Along with the Bravos and Independence Batallions, Riley and his men were positioned at an old Franciscan monastery in the village of Churubusco eight miles southeast of Mexico City. Under the command of Generals Rincón and Anaya, the Saint Patrick’s Battalion and more than a thousand Mexican soldiers were to defend it. Rincón divided up the troops, placing some on the heights of the monastery and its right flank and the San Patricios and the Bravos Batallion up on the parapets of the front and left flank of the monastery.

After scanning the area, Riley and Patrick Dalton gave orders to the men to position the seven cannons on the parapets. It was a good place to make a stand. The monastery had walls four feet thick and twelve feet high made of solid stone, as were the parapets on the roof. The Río Churubusco ran alongside the monastery, and the bridge across it was well fortified and guarded by three Mexican regiments. From the parapets Riley had a good view of the cornfields surrounding the monastery and the two roads leading to it, so they’d be able to see the Yanks coming.

On the evening of August 19, Riley stood on the parapets peering through the sultry darkness. Earlier that day, they’d heard an exchange of artillery fire and later learned that General Valencia had engaged the enemy. According to the expresses from General Santa Anna, Valencia had disobeyed orders and had taken it upon himself to confront the Yanks two miles beyond his assigned position at Padierna. Santa Anna ordered Valencia to pull back to San ángel and send his artillery to Churubusco. Valencia refused, opting instead to stay put. That evening, word reached them that the outcome of the duel between Valencia and the Yanks had ended with the withdrawal of the enemy. Now everyone was cheering and getting drunk. But as Riley watched the lightning flash across the sky and heard the thunder rumble as loud as a cannonade, he felt uneasy.

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