Jerry looked up Hannibal, and learned more news from him than he could get by listening to Lieutenant Grant and Lieutenant Smith talk, or to Pompey chatter. “We bagged ’em both,” Hannibal asserted. “City and castle, too. General Scott didn’t start in to say anything about the castle. All he wanted was the city, and then the castle would have to surrender or starve. But the Mexican general offered the two, and so of course we took ’em. General Worth, of our division, and Pillow, of the Tennessee Volunteers in the Third Division, and Colonel Totten, chief of engineers, did the talking. The surrender’s to be made at ten o’clock in the morning, day after to-morrow. Who did you say the Mexican general was?” “General Morales.” “Well, he isn’t. He escaped and left another general, Landero, to foot the bill. But you’ll see a great sight when all those Mexicans march out and pile up their guns. We took that city easy, too. Had only two officers and nine men killed in the army and one officer and four men killed in the navy, and less than sixty wounded. That’s pretty good for twenty days’ skirmishing and investing.” “The Mexicans have lost a thousand, I guess,” proffered Jerry. “They ought to have surrendered sooner. The longer they held out the worse they got it. We were going to storm the walls this very day. The navy was to carry the water front and the army the sides; and there’d have been bullets and shells and solid shot and bayonet work, all mixed.” The morning for the surrender dawned clear and calm. The orders had called for every officer and man to clean up and wear his best uniform. So there were preparations as if for parade. “Sech a polishin’ an’ scourin’ an’ slickenin’ I nebber did see,” Pompey complained, as he and Jerry worked on the belts and swords and uniforms of their lieutenants. Through all the regiment and division the soldiers were scouring their muskets and polishing their buttons and whitening their cross-belts and shining their tall leather dress-hats. The drums beat the assembly, which was the signal for the companies to fall in. The troops, under the stars and stripes and their regimental colors, were marched to a green meadow south of the city walls. The sailors had come ashore. They wore their white flapping trousers, and short blue jackets, and white flannel shirts with broad blue collars, having a star in the corners. They, and the Regulars, were spick and span, because they had been trained to take care of themselves and their things. The Volunteers were not so neat, but that was the fault of their officers.