ral Winfield Scott, however, had been left at the head
of the army, with authority to invade Mexico in any manner he might
choose, but with about half as many troops as he declared to be
necessary for such an undertaking. It was late in December, 1846, when
General Scott in person arrived at the mouth of the Rio Grande and
assumed the direction of military operations. As he did not propose any
considerable further advance into Mexico, except by way of Vera Cruz, he
decided to take his best troops with him to that field of the coming
campaign. This meant that General Taylor was to lose nearly all his
regular army men and officers, their places being filled, as to numbers,
by new regiments of exceedingly brave but untried volunteers. He was
therefore left to face, with raw troops, any intended onslaught of Santa
Anna, who would bring with him several times as large a force, of all
sorts, most of it composed of recent levies, imperfectly organized and
disciplined. It remained to be seen which of the two kinds of men, the
Mexican Indian or the American rifleman, could be the more rapidly
changed into a trained soldier, fitted for a hard day's fight.

Throughout all the interior of Mexico there was a fair degree of peace
and order, although robber bands were reported here and there. No signs
of a coming revolution appear to have been discovered, for nearly all
the great leaders who might have set one on foot were either banished or
shot, or were serving in Santa Anna's army, half hoping for his defeat
and destruction that he might be taken out of the way of their
ambitions.

There came one cloudless day near the end of February, when a kind of
cool and beautiful summer seemed to rule over all the fair land of
Anahuac, except among the snow-clad Cordilleras. There were roses in
bloom in many gardens of the city of Mexico, and all things in and about
the national capital wore an exceedingly peaceful air. The very guards
at the citadel were pacing listlessly up and down, as if they were
lazily aware that all evil-minded gringos and other foes of their
comfort were several hundreds of miles away. At the city gates there
were no sentries of any kind, and a young fellow who rode in on a
spirited pony, at an hour or so after noon, was not questioned by
anybody as to where he came from or what he was doing there. He cast
sharp glances in all directions as he rode onward, but he seemed to have
no need for inquiring his way. He went