THE HACIENDA
by D. Arróliga
Colonel Cole was fuming: “What do you mean the bastards ran you
away? We are Americans!!! We are better armed and better trained,” he
screamed. “They’re just a bunch of
savage greasers that don’t know the first thing about fighting.” Embarrassed, McDonald said: “They surprised
us Byron. We didn’t realize the place
was so well-defended. There must be some
500 men at that place. I lost
Jarvis.” “C’mon Mac. You got scared. A bunch of indians got you scared.” Cole said.
“This is bad. We can’t have those sons of bitches too close to
home. How far is that frigging ranch?”
he asked. “About 10 miles north, just
off the road to Chontales,” responded McDonald.
“Send a runner to Bill in Granada and await for his orders, on the
double,” Cole ordered.
A few days later, on the morning of September 14,
1856, the wheels of history would turn with the events about to unfold in the
next couple of hours. It was a foggy
morning. Kind of chili for this time of
the year, and Faustino Salmerón, curled up on a high branch of an ancient
Guanacaste, heard more than saw the approach of the enemy’s horses. They were many, perhaps more than 100. They came in slowly, but making too much
noise for a veteran scout like Faustino to pass up. He soundlessly slipped from the tree, hopped
on his horse and headed to the house to report to his commanding officer.
Colonel Estrada was a quiet and solemn man. He took the news in stride, and showed no
emotions in front of his troops. He went
inside, and called his officers. He told
them about the situation: A column of between 200 and 300 mercenaries was
headed to the Hacienda. Their purpose:
to run over the post to have a safe passage for the supplies coming from the
north and center of the country, particularly beef from Chontales. The patriots were to make a stand and deny
the invaders another inch of land. They
would not retreat. Not today.
Estrada ordered three points of defense around the
house: the stone fence on the west, the southern corridor of the house itself,
and the corral located just east of the house across diagonally from the
southern corridor. He sent Captain Cisne
with 50 soldiers to cover the stone fence and to cover the weakest part of the
patriot’s line of defense, the wooden corral on the side of the house; most of
the men were Matagalpa Indians armed only with bow and arrows. Captain Avilés, with another 50 soldiers, was
to defend the southern corridor to the death.
Captain Sacasa and the last group of 50 men remained inside the thick
walls of the adobe hacienda house.
Meanwhile, the American mercenaries had dismounted and
approached the house on foot. Aided by
the thick fog, they slowly advanced toward the house. Colonel Estrada gave orders
to refrain from shooting at long range, and wait until the last minute to
charge at point blank range. The ghostly
fog and the early hour gave the whole place and eerie air. It was 4:45am. About 80 well-armed and military-trained
soldiers of fortune were about to engage a 160 ill-armed peasant regiment with
more heart than weapons, and more determination than bullets.
The Nicaraguan soldiers waited patiently for the American’s
charge with orders to save as more ammunition as possible firing only at
definite targets. Cole ordered a
three-pronged offensive around the house.
At 5am, his men placed in the order of attack, Lieutenant Colonel Byron
Cole, William Walker’s second-in-command shouted “Charge!!!”, and the Americans
opened fire all at once. Cole himself
attacked the right flank, the corral.
Major O’Neil charged the center toward the southern corridor of the
house, and Captain Watkins took the left flank, that is, the stone fence. The charge was unsuccessful as the
Nicaraguans held their ground. The
exchange was fierce and bloody, but the Americans were unable to overrun the
defenses. The Americans brandished the
brand new double-action Colt six-shooter, and the modern breech loading Sharps
carbine. The defenders were using 50
year-old front-loading muskets, and had no pistols. The first wave of attack lasted only 10
minutes, until Cole ordered his men to fall back and regroup.
They charged again, but this time they all attacked
the weakest point of the Nicaraguans, the corral. The Americans charged shouting: “Hurray
Walker”, but again were cut down by the concentrated fire of the patriots. However, the Americans outnumbered the
defenders, and soon the Nicaraguans began to retreat back to the house. Capt. Sacasa was killed in the ensuing
action, and as the mercenaries began to overrun the corral, the fight became a
more intense, hand-to-hand combat with bayonets and machetes. A Nicaraguan soldier, not having time to load
his weapon, killed an American who was jumping over the entrenchment, hurling a
rock to his face. The soldier’s name was
sergeant Andrés Castro, who forever became the epitome of courage and
determination. Cole saw Watkins receive
a bullet in the forehead, and many more of his comrades fell victim of machete
wounds.
Nevertheless, the Americans were relentlessly gaining
ground, and soon the Nicaraguan’s retreat became a rout as Lieutenant Zaragoza
and several soldiers abandoned their posts and ran. Col. Estrada, however,
remained cool as he saw Lieutenant Eva with privates Solís, Velez, and Manuel
Marenco holding their ground at the southernmost corner of the corral without
any regard for their own lives. Estrada
then had a flash of an idea, and sent Capt. Cisne, Lieutenant Siero and
Sergeant Fonseca to go around the house to the east and attack the Americans in
the rear to divert their charge. Off
they went, and rounded the house unbeknownst to the mercenaries. Suddenly, they fell on the Americans
screaming wildly “Long live Martinez”, referring to Gral. Tomás Martínez,
military leader of the Legitimist Army fighting Walker and his column.
At this point, Cole perceives that he cannot overrun
the house. It is too well-defended.
Little does he know that fate is going to deal him a tough hand on this
very day. Just as he is preparing to
rush the house once and for all, he hears shouting, shots and the rumble of
hooves to the southeast. “Fresh troops
are attacking my rear”, he thought. The confusion
gives the defenders a boost of morale and, Cole watches in horror as his men
start to run away in all directions. He
is unable to control and direct his troops, after all, he is just a
lawyer. He too runs away. He never knew that the horses he heard were
not fresh troops coming to aid the peasants, but a stampede of the Hacienda’s
herd, that alarmed by the shouting and the shooting ran from the grazing fields
toward the Hacienda’s corral.
The fight lasted only about 30 minutes. Strewn in the field the Americans left
scattered 35 men. They carried many
wounded as they fled back to Tipitapa.
The patriots chased the mercenaries through the woods. They captured 18 Americans and killed
them. Some were hanged and some were cut
to pieces by vindictive machetes. Byron Cole was captured by the scout Faustino
Salmerón, who hanged him on the spot.
The patriots suffered around 55 casualties, their names forgotten by
history. But their courage would become
a legend and their victory that day a turning point in a war for freedom and
self-determination.
