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standing on her bow was a man semaphoring with two flags.
"Read that," Semmes said. The signal rating on the bridge was scratching on a
slate. When he was done he handed it the captain who scanned it quickly, then
turned to the watch officer.
"General Ulysses S. Grant is coming aboard, Mr. Seward."
"A most fortunate meeting, for he is the man who will know just what is
happening with the Mexicans and the French."
"Drop the gangway," the captain ordered. "And get the ceremony right for the
general's rank. We'll see him up here on the bridge." Now that they weren't
moving, so that the scuttles on deck no longer carried cool air below, his day
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room would be a metal oven. Semmes made a mental note to check in the
regulations to see how a general should be piped aboard a ship. He had gone
from master of a commercial vessel right into commerce raiding. Luckily his
first officer was a graduate ofAnnapolis .
They watched while Grant came on deck. He was a compact man with a full
beard, wearing a private's blue uniform, the only sign of rank the stars on
his shoulders. He climbed quickly to the bridge, nodded in recognition of the
Secretary of State.
"It is very good to see you here, Mr. Secretary. The political shenanigans
going on here are far beyond me." He turned and extended his hand to Semmes.
"Captain, you and your ship are a welcome sight indeed."
Seward looked towards the shore. "Just what is happening there, General
Grant?"
"Well, sir, it seems that the politicians have been talking for weeks, but
they finally agreed on terms today. The French have surrendered. Their troops
will be disarmed and permitted to leave. Those are their ships you see over
there, the ones tied up along the wharves. The Mexicans wanted to shoot
Maximilian, but our negotiators sort of talked them out of it. But he and all
of the officers will be held here under close guard until all of the terms of
the surrender are carried out. It seems that when the French first started
this war here they shipped all the Mexican troops that they had beaten right
back toFrance . When these soldiers are returned, why then the rest of the
French can leave."
Grant looked down at the massive two-gun turret forward of the bridge, as
well as the smaller cannon along the ironclad's side, and nodded happily.
"I am indeed pleased to see those guns. My troops have been on those ships
anchored out there for far too long. I didn't want to land them without some
cover, in case anything went wrong. This place is a tinderbox just ready to go
up. If you will kindly point your cannon shoreward to cover the landings I
would be greatly obliged."
"That is my privilege, General Grant. I am also going to get this ship as
close to shore as I can. Might I suggest you station a signalman ashore where
we can see him? That way we can keep in communication."
"I'll do just that. Mr. Secretary would you like to come with me?"
"I do indeed. Consul Hancock will brief me on the state of negotiations so
far."
Even as the steam launch puffed towards the shore the disembarking of the
American troops was beginning. At the north end of the harbor, just as far
from the French ships as possible, where the American troop transports were
tied up. A regiment of riflemen were the first ashore. They were quickly
formed up and marched down the waterfront towards the distant wharf. Once in
position they were drawn up in a line facing the French ships. At the same
time a battery of 10-pounder Parrott guns were being unloaded, winched up from
the ships' holds. Weighing only eight hundred and ninety-nine pounds each,
they could be manhandled into position by the gunners and troops. These rifled
cannon were fast-firing and deadly.
The troops who descended from the next transport wore butternut gray. Even in
this army, united against the British invaders, the regiments still kept their
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old identity, were still commanded by their own officers.
Then, from the city, bugles sounded and there was the muffled sound of drums.
These grew louder and louder as the first of the French troops appeared on the
waterfront. They made no attempt to keep in step, but shuffled along
aimlessly, the very picture of defeat. Weaponless, bereft of any morale, some
of them walked dispiritedly with their hands in their pockets. As they boarded
their own ships, the American army was still disembarking from theirs.
"That's a sight that you'll never see again," Semmes said, and the watch
officer nodded agreement. "All we need is a few Mexicans waving their new flag
to make the picture complete."
"Well there they are, sir," the watch officer said, pointing. "Those armed [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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