6 The Battle of Puebla (May 4-5, 1862)

Cannon in Position at Fort Guadalupe

The Indígena (Indian) Messenger What Pierre Alphonse Dubois Saligny probably wanted more than anything at this moment was a good bath, a relaxing massage, and a stiff drink. France’s minister to Mexico knew that the Orizaba- to-Puebla trip should take only three days. After eight days on the road, he had run out of things to say to his fellow passenger, General Almonte. It can be imagined that Saligny was only too eager to escape the foul-smelling, mud-spattered army vehicle and head for the luxurious hospitality awaiting him at the home of wealthy local conservatives in nearby Puebla. A more suitable carriage for someone of his rank, most likely a four-passenger Berlina, a town coach known as a Brougham in England and the United States, was already waiting for him with the French army at its camp in Amozoc, a short distance from Puebla. As Saligny was about to step up into the more luxurious vehicle, an indígena (Indian) came running up, thrust a small packet of hand- rolled cigarettes toward him, said the name “Márquez” and fled. Saligny guessed that he had been chosen to receive this message because he looked as though he were the one in charge. The packet was obviously for Lorencez. Saligny knew how they sent secret messages this way. He also knew that indígena (Indian) runners hid such items in radically ungodly places like their armpits, their crotches, between their toes or in other unmentionable parts of their bodies. It turned out to be confirmation that General Márquez was approaching with twenty-five hundred men. [1] Lorencez had set up camp and sent some scouts over to Puebla to get a quick look at the enemy positions while there was still daylight. The detail had returned with the information that most of the Mexican troops appeared to be deployed at the south end of town, the most likely place for an attack. 57 5Minister Saligny had already written to General Lorencez earlier, intending to provide some upbeat encouragement. “As soon as our troops are in sight of the city, Márquez will appear, all conventional resistance will cease, and the barricades will fall as if by magic. You will make your entrance under a rain of flowers, to the confusion of Zaragoza and his gang. It would be better to enter by the east gate than the one facing you.” Lorencez didn’t like anyone telling him what to do, especially people like Saligny who knew nothing about military affairs. No, he would organize the attack, and no one else. Saligny’s letter concluded: “In any case, you should have no complications to fear. You may approach the city as you please, but I should consider it a most serious mistake not to profit by the friendly feeling of which I have been informed, and I shall be obliged to report it.” [2]

Best Direction from Which to Attack General Lorencez called a council of war, preparing to announce his decision. Just as the officers were gathering, another note arrived. This time it was bad news. Those twenty-five hundred Imperialista troops under General Márquez – the ones who were supposed to make the barricades fall “as if by magic” – had been ambushed in Atlixco, about thirty miles southwest of Puebla. Zaragoza had sent General O’Horan and his men to crouch down in a sugarcane field and hide in a flour mill. As Márquez’s troops approached the town, they were scattered into the countryside. Márquez regretted to say that they would not be able to make it to Puebla by the next day. That changed things. Now, Lorencez really had to decide: from what direction should he actually approach Puebla? Should he change yesterday’s decision? Saligny had recommended the east gate, other officers had suggested circling the town and approaching from the south, and General Almonte, who had both captured and 58 defended Puebla over a number of years, had pointed out that Puebla had never been taken from the north. Attacking from the east would be giving in to Saligny. That would never do. Circling the town and attacking from the south would stretch out the supply line and make it vulnerable to attack. General Almonte had been on the losing side in the War of the Reform, so what did he really know? In Lorencez’s mind, it was settled. They would attack from the north.

Let’s Attack – But First, a Coffee Break General Ignacio Zaragoza stared silently through his binoculars, looking down at the road junction just north of town, the one where the old tollgate used to be. It was already midmorning on May 5, and the entire French army had been there about two hours. They had left Amozoc at five o’clock in the morning and had marched for four hours toward Puebla. Now, they were taking a coffee and pastry break. The trip from Amozoc to Puebla normally takes an hour and a half on horseback, two hours by carriage. But this six-thousand-man army had already taken nine whole days to make the three-day trip from Orizaba. They were surely not counting on the element of surprise. General Berriozábal was in charge at Fort Guadalupe; General Rojo was at Fort Loreto, about half a mile away; and General Negrete was coordinating the activities of both forts, defending all of the territory surrounding them atop Guadalupe Hill. It was approaching 11:00 A.M. As soon as the French made a move, they’d be ready. None of them could quite believe the French move when it finally came. General Lorencez was actually going to try to take Puebla from the north – something that had never been done before. 59 The Mexicans turned their artillery around to counter the unexpected development. They would be aiming straight down the hillside at French infantry who would be trying to climb the hill on foot. The French artillery was so far back in line that it might be possible to bombard their infantry for half an hour before they could even get set up. [3] Some authors claim that General Zaragoza released a herd of stampeding cattle at this point to scatter the French infantry, but diligent research from leading sources does not support this claim. Still, the story survives as a popular folk tale among some Mexican Americans.

That Cannon Fire Was Not a Welcome Salute! Down below, the Zoauves were among the French units still under the impression that they were preparing for a victory parade and nothing more. The weather was just perfect: bright sunshine, clear blue skies and comfortable temperatures stirred by ever-so- slight breezes. The Zoauves were putting the last touches on what they hoped would be an impressive appearance. Dressed in their

Three Generations of ¨Zoauves” – Mexico City Arabian-style blue jackets and baggy red pants, they had just whitened their cloth leggings and rewound their turbans. They carefully draped their tassels to one side to achieve maximum flamboyance. Suddenly – BAH-OOM! – an artillery shell landed nearby. Imperialista general Almonte exclaimed that it was a military salute. “The good citizens of Puebla are saluting our approach,” he said. [4] Lorencez knew better. It was just dawning on him that all those promises and wishful thinking from Almonte, Saligny and other generals and diplomats were pretty hollow. There would be no victory parade. There would be a tough battle, and he was already into it. The Mexicans had been bombarding his troops for fifteen minutes, and the French artillery was just arriving to set up. Then French artillery pieces began returning the fire that was coming from the converted convent at the top of the hill, but not much was happening. Only a few of the shells even reached Fort Guadalupe, much less did any damage. Lorencez ordered his artillery to move closer to the hill to be within shorter range. The French infantry people – trying to climb the hill – were now caught between the dueling artillery forces. The French at the bottom of the hill were firing practically straight into the air. They could not see in a direct line to the fort, and if they aimed much higher the shells would probably come back down on their heads.

French Artillery Won’t Last Another Hour Zaragoza, meanwhile, was making strategic changes. Colonel Porfirio Díaz’s Cavalry held the high ground, so they could look down and easily outflank any move by their French cavalry counterparts. The Mexican troops that had been protecting the southern approaches to Puebla were moved to Guadalupe Hill in several ways 61 That the French could not observe. Now, they would be concealed along the hilltop ridge between the two forts, in position and waiting. At 12:30 P.M., a messenger arrived at General Lorencez’s headquarters. It was from the French artillery. They had been in place and firing since 11:15 A.M. as ordered, and now they were saying that half of their ammunition was already used up. It would all be gone within the hour. Lorencez was visibly stunned, but he decided that he could not afford to lose the momentum. The Mexican artillery was still raking the hillside with deadly accuracy, but Lorencez decided that the best way to deal with it was to order another infantry charge – straight up the hill. At Fort Guadalupe, General Zaragoza was somewhat puzzled by the French. What sort of army would pause for a two-hour coffee- and-pastry break while marching into battle? Call it overconfidence, call it bureaucracy, but even from a distance Zaragoza and his officers could tell that the Frenchmen’s hearts and souls were not really engaged. They appeared to be just going through the motions, expecting just token resistance before their victory parade. From the Mexicans, however, Zaragoza could sense a feeling of allegiance to a cause and a moral obligation that the invaders clearly lacked.

Something the French Never Trained For Within moments, there were shouts outside the wall of Fort Guadalupe as a few soldiers from the latest wave of French infantry made it to the top of the hill. Gunfire was coming from the woods and from the trenches, not from the fort, as the confused Frenchmen tried valiantly to place ladders against the wall. The came something they never could have imagined, even in their worst nightmares.

62 As the few surviving French soldiers scrambled through the moat surrounding Fort Guadalupe and began to climb their ladders, blood-curdling shrieks and yells resounded throughout the compound. Several dozen Zacapoaxtla warriors, brandishing machetes, swiftly beheaded each of the enemy soldiers who had reach ed the uppermost rungs. Not a single one of the invaders lived to tell about it. [5] After three more waves of infantry tried to enter the fort without success, some Zoauves who were trying to circle the hill stumbled onto Fort Loreto. Fleeing uphill along the ridge, they met five dug-in battalions of Mexican infantry who had been hiding in the trenches. Things were not going well for the French. Not only had the Zoauves found themselves outnumbered five-to-one in their aborted attempt to round the hill near Fort Loreto, but the Mexican cavalry under Colonel Porfirio Díaz had sent two more companies of French- employed African sharpshooters tumbling back down the hill. General Lorencez had just one more card to play: the Mexicans had not yet seen his cavalry. It was late in the afternoon when General Zaragoza probably thought God was on his side. As he looked through his binoculars to

General Ignacio Zaragoza [6]

63 the west of Puebla, the sky was growing darker by the minute. Every day for the past week or so, there had been a thunderstorm at about this time, and the one that was approaching appeared to be much larger than its predecessors. Zaragoza sent word to all of his units to let the storm do its work. If there were any Frenchmen still standing when it was over, they would be easier to deal with. General Lorencez apparently did not have his eyes on the sky. He sent the French cavalry charging up the north slope of Guadalupe Hill just before the cloudburst arrived. They were met with drenching rain, thunder and lightning, hailstones, and severe winds that swayed large tree branches all around them. Lost soldiers were crawling and staggering around in the blinding downpour. Horses were slipping and sliding everywhere in the mud, falling over and injuring themselves and their riders. There was something else that the French could never have anticipated. Zaragoza’s forces had increased by some 500 men during the battle. Captain Porfirio Zamora and a group of riders known as “Tejanos” had arrived from Texas and merged with the Mexican forces for a final cavalry charge. The smell of gun smoke was mixed with those of mud, horse manure, wet leather, sweat and blood as Europe’s finest army confronted what could only be described as a catastrophe. Ignacio Zaragoza could claim an unexpected but decisive victory. As he later wrote in his report to Mexico’s war minister, the French troops fought bravely but lacked strategic command. As a bugle mercifully sounded retreat, rain-soaked, bedraggled and confused French soldiers returned to the old tollhouse at a road junction just north of Puebla. The day would go down in history as an embarrassing defeat for the French.

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French Sailors Lost in the Woods It wasn’t over yet. Not everyone could heed the bugle’s call. Wounded soldiers screamed in agony as French medica attempted to rescue them from the hillside in the gathering darkness. French historians would claim that they lost only 462 dead, wounded or missing, but Mexican author Salazar Monroy says the French retrieved almost all of their wounded and still left 1,139 dead behind on Guadalupe Hill. Even General Zaragoza’s own report claims more than 1,000 French were killed. The Mexicans were probably more surprised than the French that they had won. They celebrated at Fort Guadalupe by singing songs and cheering wildly. The Zacapoaxtla indígenas (Indians) didn’t know the words, but they enjoyed the party. Among the siongs was “La Marseillaise,” which had been banned by Napoleon III when the country returned to monarchy. The tune had been picked up by liberals and revolutionaries everywhere outside of France. Now, the Mexicans were using it to taunt the French army which was licking its wounds – within hearing distance - on the plain just north of Guadalupe Hill. At the height of the victory celebration, someone called for silence. Yes, there was the sound of a bugle coming from the woods nearby. Could it be another French attack? Each man reached for his weapon as General Berriozábal sent out a dozen volunteers to scout the hillside. The scouts found no one during their search, but word later came out that an entire battalion of French sailors had become lost in the woods. Whoever was looking for them had brought a bugler along, but the sailors finally returned to the French encampment on their own.

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Reenactor John Hesselberg as a French Sailor

Mexican author Salazar Monroy claims the Mexicans suffered 490 dead and 210 wounded. Other historians give no figures for the Mexican losses. French minister Pierre Saligny, exasperated at Lorencez’s incompetence, was already writing to Emperor Napoleon III and including a complete list of the general’s mistakes. Others would soon join him. Lorencez would have to eat the words he used in a speech he made before leaving Orizaba, predicting an easy victory and calling himself “The Master of Mexico.” “So much,” said one officer, using a quotation from Lorencez, “for being superior in race, organization, discipline and morality.” [7] Zaragoza had guessed correctly: Lorencez didn’t have a clue about military strategy. He had just flung his foot soldiers heedlessly 66 up a hill against fortified positions and well-placed artillery, deluded in his belief that no one could defeat his world-famous army. The moral of the story of Cinco de Mayo was that Mexicans could stand up to the best that Europe had to offer, especially where they were under determined and capable leadership. Because of this unexpected but welcome victory, the Mexican people were inspired to persevere.