When he arrived in Mexico, Burnside Lee had never in his life imagined such a place. Before he ended up in the Land of Moctezuma, he had never been further away from his home in Limestone County than Nashville, Tennessee. That's where he swore his oath and he was given a rifle and told he was going to Mexico to fight Mexicans. He could not have been more eager. This was exactly what he needed - adventure to mollify a long bout of melancholia.
War with Mexico had been roundly supported by slaveholding Democrats, who wished to expand their extraordinary voting privileges into new lands where they could import slavery. George Smith Houston, that penultimate Greek of Limestone County, was then representing the Nickajack in Congress. He voted for the war after a pantomime speech, and then sat the rest of it out at home.
Burnside had long been a widower, having lost his first wife and child in childbirth years before. He kept his mind active by abjuring from alcohol and studying history. Longing for adventure to assuage his perpetual grief, he placed his hardware store on Jefferson Street in stewardship when war was declared against Mexico. Then he made the trip to Nashville to enlist in the army. There he was enrolled in the 1st Tennessee Regiment, which drew a wild swashbuckling type from here on to all over. Most of the soldiers thought this was the big ticket. Mexico! As far as Southerners were concerned, that place was next on Manifest Destiny's hitlist. Many of them thought they would get land in Mexico out of the deal, and recruiters weren't eager to dissuade them with the truth of it. There were so many volunteers that they couldn't take them all.
The army hit the beaches at Vera Cruz, Mexico and laid siege to its ancient walls of coral. They were cheerfully led by that old War of 1812 hero, General Winfield Scott, who was nicknamed "Old Fuss and Feathers." After capturing the ancient city, they marched inland into the jungle towards the distant mountains. They followed the old invasion route of the Conquistador Hernando Cortez. Burnside was amazed to observe jaguars and ocelots prancing among the babbling trees. There were birds that burst in carnivals of color, and there were tarantulas that grew as large as his fist. Spider monkeys would climb down and rob him at night of the fruit he foraged from the jungle. It was quite a remarkable encounter with the alien and exotic for just a boy from Limestone County!
They began to ascend the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Madre Orientale, where the wind blew like furies and the mornings were blanketed with frost. Somewhere up there in the mountains was the Mexican Napoleon, General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, who was the butcher of the Alamo. He held a strong position with ten-thousand Mexican soldiers guarding the jagged defile of Cerro Gordo. In his first action, Burnside Lee's regiment was sent against the enemy's center. They blundered into a crossfire among the slopes of chapparal overlooking the gorge and tumbled back behind whatever defilade they could find.
This was a terrifying experience for Burnside Lee. This was not what he expected. Enemy musket fire barked through the scrubs with every volley. Fuego! Artillery smashed into the rocks sending shards everywhere. Curling with abject terror and having urinated himself, it took quite an effort for Burnside to pull himself back together again. It helped when an Irish sergeant kicked him in the ass screaming foreign obscenities and pulled him to his feet. Somehow he mustered the mental enterprise to fold himself back into the ranks and return fire. It was not until a bright young captain named Robert E. Lee had personally reconnoitered General de Santa Anna's left flank that the whole position could be turned. And when it had, the Mexicans suddenly broke. So calamitous was the retreat that the Mexican Napoleon left behind his wooden leg and wine chest. Both brought great glee and cheers to the American ranks.
Burnside Lee swore he would never go into combat sober again. The experience was entirely too suffuse with terrors surreal, too phantasmic. It wasn't worth the glory if he had to endure it. So he broke his embargo on spirits and around a campfire asked for a swill from another soldier named Luther Lang. He passed along a flask filled with hot bourbon that went down hard. Then they got to talking about where they'd come from.
Limestone County, Luther asked? Why I'm from Giles County, Tennessee. I reckon we're neighbors.
Luther eyed him queerly when Burnside said he was a Whig, as though he were untrustworthy. He asked him if he had slaves, which was a rude question. Two.
I've got eight, Luther said. He gazed quietly. I got my eyes set on becoming a grandee here. These people can work. They built pyramids! Unlike our n*****s, they understand a hierarchy. They understand class and racial distinction. Did you know they grade their mestizos based on how white or Indian they are? As far as I'm concerned, your either white, a redskin or a n****r. What a strange country this is. It will take some getting used to.
Burnside didn't know what to think of all that. It really took him aback.
I got me near 80 acres near Prospect, Tennessee. Say when this is over, we'll need to visit one another. Burnside thought not.
He noticed Luther thumbing his ring, and he thought to ask. Did he go to college?
No sir. That's the ring of Adelphon Kuklos. He took it off and tossed it to Burnside, who looked it over. A red jasper was inscribed with white gold letters - AK. Is this some fraternity, Burnside asked?
Yes sir, but not of the college type. We're a band of brothers... white brothers. Our aim is to spread white culture across the Western Hemisphere, to build an empire where white Americans of the South can prosper without the interference of those devilish Yankees. And that starts right here in Mexico. These people are a wasted and degenerate race, ripe for the picking.
Burnside was disturbed, but he let the man talk. And so he did into the evening about how Adelphon Kuklos was funding filibuster expeditions to undermine Hispanic governments around the Gulf and Caribbean. By installing white dictators, they could apply for statehood or otherwise thrive with the support of Southern slaveowning investors. It was a vast conspiracy, though none too secret. A lot of poor whites and yeomen were buying into it. A lot of them were there in Mexico. But Adelphon Kuklos seemed especially sinister in its organization.
Burnside was absorbed, and took his mental notes long into the night.
