Chapter V: Appendix: (manuscript Sources) 565 (3)

Bustamante opened Congress with a bit of the fashionable hypocrisy, asserting that a "sacred Constitution" had placed him in power; but he showed that what interested him was "the wishes of the army," and the army reciprocated this affection. Alamán, who had been Victoria's chief adviser at first, now became the real head of the government. More than any other man in Mexico he could claim to be called a statesman, for he knew some history, had observed politics in Europe, and in a superficial yet impressive way could reason; but he was a statesman of the Metternich school, wily and insincere, wholly unable to sympathize with democracy, and profoundly in love with force. Whatever did not suit the government he demolished without regard to law; whoever opposed it was crushed. In administration the government did well, but--attempting to represent democracy and privilege, progress and reaction, the past and the future, a self-governing state and an all-controlling church at one and the same time--it undertook to perform an impossible task by impossible means. Consequently it satisfied neither of the parties and offended both. King Stork proved worse than King Log.[2.7]

Santa Anna, incensed because Guerrero would not appoint him minister of war, had at first coquetted with Bustamante's movement; but soon, overshadowed at Jalapa by the Vice-President and by Bravo, whom Guerrero had pardoned, he retired to his estate. On the outbreak of the revolution he took up arms for Guerrero; but when his chief gave up, he followed that example, and patiently awaited, crouching, the time to spring. Now he saw the tide of passion rising, and saw also the best citizens agreeing that Mier y Terán,[F] an able and honorable man, should be the next chief magistrate. Accordingly, to prevent an election if nothing more, he "pronounced" in the name of Federalism at the beginning of 1832, and called for a change of Cabinet, though four years earlier he had battled for the principle that nobody should interfere with a President's choice of ministers; and then he required that Bustamante should give up his place to Pedraza as the rightful head of the state, though Santa Anna himself had been the cause of Pedraza's exclusion on the ground of illegal election. Supported by the Vera Cruz customhouse and defended by the pestilence of the coast, he occupied a most advantageous position; and consistency did not signify.[2.7]

[F] A Mexican sometimes chose to bear the family name of his mother
as well as that of his father. The former was connected to the
latter with the word "and" (_y_). Paredes y Arrillaga, Peña y
Peña, Mora y Villamil are instances. In referring to such
persons, however, it was customary to use only the first of the
names. Thus one finds much more often "Paredes" than "Paredes y
Arrillaga."

Near the close of the year the two chiefs, brought together by Pedraza, adjusted the affairs of the nation--that is to say, the offices--as private business, and the troops on both sides were liberally rewarded. Congress protested, but was utterly powerless. Bustamante soon found it wise to give up the Presidency; and as the elections were not general enough, at the proper time, to create a Congress, constitutional government vanished. However, though Pedraza had resigned and even left the country, which no President could legally do, Santa Anna and Bustamante now hoisted him into power to complete the term interrupted by Guerrero, while the "best citizens" fell out over offices and personal issues, and so dissipated the brightest prospect seen as yet in Mexican public life.[2.7]

[SANTA ANNA PRESIDENT]

Under these circumstances, of course, the dominant general, Santa Anna, was elected President. For Vice-President the choice fell upon Valentín Gómez Farías, leader of the radical Federalists. In many ways Farías deserved warm admiration. He was active, indefatigable, fearless, thoroughly honest, and willing--perhaps a little more than willing--to serve the public in the humblest or the highest office. He loved Mexico ardently, and he believed in the supremacy of law and the civil authority. Unfortunately, however, his education was inadequate for the work he undertook to do; and he lacked prudence, patience and common sense. In short, he may be characterized as a fanatical democrat and political idealist.[2.7]

Santa Anna now had the army at his back, but he desired to have also the privileged classes there, and they had been exasperated by his overthrowing Bustamante. He therefore decided to let them see they needed him; and, retiring early in 1833 to his estate--which in fact he enjoyed much more than bearing the burdens of administration--he left the Vice-President in power. Farías then undertook to transform Mexico, by merely saying "Open Sesame!" to the Federalist majority in Congress, into a modern, liberal, orderly and prosperous nation; and reform projects made their appearance at once. The privileges of the army were boldly attacked and still more those of the Church, which aimed to be _in_ the social order enough to dominate it, yet enough outside to escape from all obligations. Farías proposed, therefore, without having a well-digested plan, to reassert the supreme authority formerly exercised by the king, abolish the clerical fuero and the compulsory tithes, provide for popular, lay education, and bring into productive circulation the immense wealth controlled by the Church; and Congress, fully aware that reforms were necessary, dazzled by the boldness and novelty of his programme, and misled by the Mexican faith in theories and formulæ, supported him.[2.7]

Naturally such projects and their foreseen consequences roused the clericals and all in that camp to fury, and the proprietors of great estates also grew alarmed. The President felt his time had come, and in May, therefore, he resumed his functions. The progress of reform promptly halted, and soon it was announced that Santa Anna, ingeniously made a prisoner by his own troops, had been proclaimed dictator. Undoubtedly he expected the mutiny that now broke out at the capital to overthrow the government; but Farías, again in power during the President's absence, quelled the revolt, and Santa Anna found it necessary to "escape" and resume his office.[2.7]

[A CHANGE OF RÉGIME]

Pretending still with consummate address to favor both parties--though really a Centralist now--he made both of them court and fear him, and proved his power by breaking down and then restoring the army. Of course, however, these manoeuvres excited suspicion. The privileged classes, though anxious for his support, hesitated to pledge him theirs, and so he returned on a six months' leave of absence to his figurative plow, leaving Tornel, whom an American minister described as "a very bad man," to scheme in his interest. The now embittered and excited forces of reform were thus unleashed, and before long the Church and the rich proprietors offered the Cincinnatus of Manga de Clavo absolute power on condition that he should protect them. In April, 1834, therefore, two months before his leave was to expire, he took possession of the supreme power again, and was hailed by the clergy as a new Messiah. Supported soon by the revolutionary "plan" of Cuernavaca, he made himself in effect a dictator. The cause of reform was harshly checked and turned back. Congress found the door of its hall barred; and Farías, covered with abuse, was driven from the country.[2.7]

Secretly encouraging reactionary insurrections and instigating demands for a centralized régime, though still professing publicly the other creed, Santa Anna ordered the people to surrender their weapons, and crushed with a ruthless hand the state of Zacatecas, which dared to oppose his will. "Worthy son of the father of lies," "unrivalled chameleon," "shameless hypocrite," "atheist and blasphemer," shrieked his opponents. "With the tranquility of a tiger, which, sated with the flesh of its prey, reposes on what it does not wish to devour, Santa Anna reports his victory," cried _El Crepúsculo_. But resentment counted for nothing; Mexico was prostrate. Late in 1835, therefore, a packed Congress of self-seeking politicians decided upon centralization, and it was understood that Santa Anna would be chosen President for ten years, with a longer term and a higher title in prospect. But now the scene was tragically shifted. In March, 1836, the Texans declared their independence. The Napoleon of the West fell into their hands at San Jacinto, where they defeated his army; and, as an inkling got abroad of the unpatriotic agreements made with his captors while in fear of revenge for his cruelties, he thought it wise to announce, on returning to Mexico in 1837, a definitive retirement from public life.[2.7]

According to the organic law, any proposed constitutional change had to remain under consideration for two years; but the Congress of 1835, not minding a trifle like this, drew up as fast as possible what it named the Seven Laws--called by others the Seven Plagues. By December, 1836, despite the resistance and threats of the Federalists, the new régime was fully organized, and Bustamante soon held the reins again. The Church and the wealthy were now satisfied. The army also felt pleased, for the Federalists denounced its privileges, the cost of the many state offices created by them reduced the amount of money it could get, and an aristocratic government seemed likely to need it constantly and pay it with some regularity; and so the prospect was, especially with Santa Anna eliminated, that the new regime would be stable.[2.7]

But among the aristocrats it had become unfashionable by this time to meddle with politics. The groups that made up the dominant party, though united against the democrats, had little else in common. Each group desired to enjoy privileges and shun burdens; each aimed to exploit the nation; and there was not enough to satisfy all. The expulsion of the Spaniards had weakened the numbers, ability, energy and wealth of the party; and now, as after every revolution, it proved so impossible to fulfill the promises made to win support, that soon disappointed friends were allying themselves with open enemies.[2.8]

A new difficulty, too, arose, for under a centralized system the government had to assume financial responsibilities previously borne by the states. A strong treasury was therefore essential; yet the rich, and in particular the clergy, would not pay enough to carry on the government they had established. Consequently funds had to be borrowed, Church property being the only available security; and the clergy, instead of meeting the terms of the money-lenders, busily hid or exported their wealth. Every dollar that could be raised had to be given the army as the price of its allegiance, and for six months not one civil employé, from the President down, received a salary. In October, 1837, the ministry resigned in a body, and would not return to their desks, for nobody cared to support so heavy a load when there was no chance to steal or even to get paid.[2.8]

Early in November the British representative, although the legation had all along sympathized with the aristocratic party, reported that Centralism had completely failed; and it was notorious that Bustamante himself desired a restoration of Federalism as the only possible expedient. Seeing their enemies divided, the liberals took heart, and petitions for a change of system were soon pouring in from the departments, which had now taken the places of the states. Dissatisfaction spread. Pronunciamientos began, and only the popularity of Bustamante, who had mellowed with age and foreign travel during his period of eclipse, maintained the government. Yet Federalism could not act, for at this juncture the French minister was pressing claims, and the two wings of the party--the moderates led by Pedraza and the radicals led by Farías--disagreed passionately on this foreign issue. A complete state of anarchy prevails, reported our consul at Mexico in December, 1838.[2.8]

[FALL OF BUSTAMANTE]

Santa Anna all this time was quietly at work, though he had called heaven to witness that he would be loyal to the existing regime; and, as often happened, chance came to his aid. A French fleet captured the fortress of Ulúa, off Vera Cruz, at this time, and a party of marines landed at the town, destroyed some war material, and then marched back to reëmbark. Santa Anna commanded there, and, being wounded in attacking these troops, had to undergo amputation at the knee. This was his opportunity, and he at once issued a most eloquent address. Already he had outdone opera bouffe, and now he outdid himself. "Probably this will be the last victory I shall give my country," he said; "I die happy that Divine Providence has permitted me to devote to her every drop of my blood.... May all my fellow-citizens, forgetting my political errors, concede to me the one title that I would leave my children, that of a Good Mexican." There had been no victory, for the French drove him out of Vera Cruz before he could dictate the address, and he did not dream of dying; but the Mexicans are tender-hearted, and the episode--particularly in contrast with the inaction of the government, which could not afford an efficient regular army and dared not arm the people--gave him a fresh hold on the nation, even though all capable of thinking felt by this time profoundly skeptical about him.[2.8]

Accordingly he became the power behind the tottering throne in December, 1838, and when Bustamante took the field early the next year to put down an insurgent named Mejía, the Centralist leaders had Santa Anna made temporary President as a bulwark against Federalism. The quality of his penitence quickly showed itself. His power was audaciously used to cripple Bustamante, suppress liberty, gain partisans and benefit himself and his friends. In a word, he achieved the most lawless and shameless administration yet witnessed, and though universally feared, was now execrated by almost all except his personal followers. In July, 1839, the President resumed his functions, but matters only went on from worse to worst--corruption rampant in the administration, public spirit dead. In July, 1840, rioters actually made him their prisoner for a time. False advisers, particularly Tornel, drew him farther and farther into Santa Anna's net. Corpulent and aging rapidly, he fell into a sort of mental stupor; and in August, 1841, the British minister reported that the government, if left to itself, would soon expire of inanition. As for the nation, it was not merely in anarchy but in chaos. Even the conservatives admitted that the Seven Laws would not do.[2.8]

This very month rang the bell for the next scene. General Mariano Paredes, another important figure in the history of our war with Mexico, was a brave but rather besotted officer, more honest but less clever than his leading contemporaries. On a mere pretext, though he owed much to Bustamante, he revolted; more or less in collusion with him Santa Anna pronounced as mediator; and General Valencia, correctly described by an American consul as "destitute of every principle of honor or honesty," treacherously getting hold of what was called the citadel at Mexico, rebelled on his own account: check from two knights and a castle, as Señora Calderón wittily described the situation. Weary, disgusted, indifferent, cynical, men heard unmoved the "Quién vive?" and "Centinela alerte!" of the insurgents at the capital, and between two puffs of their cigarettes gossiped about the revolution as if it had occurred in Europe. It was only a game of chess, and the public were spectators. They understood now that nearly all the pompous phrases of the politicians had meant, as Lara's _Revista Política_ of 1840 put it, "Move, and let me have your place."[2.8]

In this confusion Santa Anna, whom the conservatives had now decided to support instead of the inefficient Bustamante, came rapidly to the front. His triumph was soon foreseen, and the nation acquiesced. Most people knew he was a villain, but felt that at any rate he possessed energy. Probably he could keep order, they said, and perhaps, if entirely trusted, would act well. If not, one big rascal could not be so bad as many little ones; and at the very least any change must be an improvement. In reality this bold, cunning, hungry, sharp adventurer, who knew what he wanted and got it, dazzled the average Mexicans. They saw in him a fulfilment of themselves, and in letting him rule they had the feeling of success without the trouble.[2.8]

For a while Bustamante, whose government practically faded out in September, 1841, resisted with dignity though with no chance of survival; but at length, in a fit of desperation, he cut the ground of legality from under his own feet by pronouncing for Federalism, and on October 7, Santa Anna, driving rapidly through Mexico behind four white horses belonging to a stockbroker, with a retinue of splendid coaches and an immense escort of cavalry, took up his quarters at the palace in Tacubaya, a few miles beyond. Yet not a single viva greeted his magnificent entry or his address to Congress. Memory paralyzed admiration. In despair, not love, Mexico consented to be his.[2.8]

[SANTA ANNA VIRTUALLY DICTATOR]

By the new arrangement, called the Bases of Tacubaya, a new Congress was to draw a new constitution. Meantime some one, the choice of a junta appointed by the successful chief, was to have the powers "necessary for the organization of all branches of the public service," and naturally Santa Anna himself received the votes of his junta. This arrangement was regarded by the nation as a mere parenthesis, but the General held a different idea. On October 10, the gloomy old cathedral was as bright as gold, silver, gems and hundreds of candles could make it. Troops entered the sacred precincts, and formed to the music of drums and cornets. The archbishop proceeded to the main entrance in cope and mitre, holding in his hands a crucifix equally beautiful and precious, and there he waited for about three quarters of an hour, when a military officer, who had not even deigned to put on full dress, marched in and seated himself on a splendid throne. A large suite of generals followed, but none of them ventured to sit, though the _Te Deum_ lasted an hour; and finally the man on the throne rose and took this oath: I swear to God--to do as I please; for such was the meaning of the Bases. Hardened by seeing his superior astuteness, audacity and energy balked so many times by circumstances and a lack of confidence in his honor, Santa Anna proposed, now that he once more had the power, to grip it with a hand of steel.[2.9]

As dictator he indulged himself by running through the entire diapason from childishness to omnipotence, announcing impossibilities and attempting absurdities. The freedom of the press and the freedom of speech were violated. The tariff was juggled with for selfish pecuniary reasons. He ordered the university to give one of his friends a degree and a chair--that is to say, learning and a profession. He closed a bank without allowing it the time to liquidate. He put up a cheap building of rubble work that was merely an eyesore--though Tornel compared it to the Simplon road of Napoleon--and the city government had to fall down and worship it. His amputated foot was dug up and reinterred with extraordinary pomp. On the top of a monument was erected a gilded statue of him pointing toward Texas, though some said it was pointing at the mint. The Church, now governed by the soft Archbishop Posada, drowsy with satisfaction and carelessly fattening on sweetmeats presented to him by adoring nuns, was forced to make "loans"; and payments on public debts, for which revenues had been solemnly pledged, were suspended.[2.9]

Nothing, one might almost say, was too great or too small for Santa Anna, if it looked auriferous. No coach wheel could turn without first paying a tax. Anybody with a promising scheme to get national funds could find a partner at the palace. Brokers and contractors took the places of politicians; wealthy merchants, able to loan great sums at great percentages, took the places of statesmen. Corruption was rampant everywhere, of course. "An arbitrary system, indeed, must always be a corrupt one," as Burke said; "there never was a man who thought he had no law but his own will, who did not soon find that he had no end but his own profit." These words describe Santa Anna's course. And when his chest was full enough and his army big enough, putting a substitute in his place and shaking off the cares of state, he went down to enjoy his gambling and cockfighting and plan his next political move at Manga de Clavo, secure from observation and protected by troops. Hints of a formal dictatorship began to be heard.[2.9]

To keep up appearances, however, he summoned the proposed Congress. A majority of the members were Federalists, but he promptly informed it that Federalism would not do, and when they insisted on their notion, Tornel, the minister of war, who was glad to be his lackey and wear the livery of the house, barred Congress out of its hall. Presently, without a sign of protest from any one, it was dissolved by decree; and then eighty persons, chosen by the administration, drew up a new constitution called the Organic Bases. Valencia was president of this junta; and both he and Paredes began to plot against the dictator. Santa Anna forced them to swallow their ambitions for the time being, however, and by dint of military interference--though his enemies were bestirring themselves and he was now increasingly unpopular--he became President in January, 1844, under the new constitution. This appeared like a concession to legality, but no doubt it was intended as a recoil for another spring. His dream of empire still went on, it was fully believed.[2.9]

Although the minister of justice described this period as "an epoch of glory" and an "era of absolute felicity," the new Congress manifested a disposition to antagonize the President; but an almost supernatural dread of him paralyzed even his enemies, and he readily bowled them over. Then he was given a special sum of four millions for war with Texas; and after that sum was promptly absorbed, he demanded not only ten millions more but "extraordinary powers" to lay taxes. This meant that he wanted to have every man's property at his disposal, and it was generally believed that with a foreign war as excuse he would soon try to make himself autocrat. Congress resisted, and before long was suspended.[2.9]

[DOWNFALL OF SANTA ANNA]

But now the people took fire. They had trusted Santa Anna completely, and their confidence had been as completely abused. It was felt that he had shown a deliberate intention to ignore the public interest and feed upon the nation--disregarding all personal rights, threatening all fortunes and contradicting all principles. Paredes, who had never forgiven Santa Anna for running him off the track in 1841, pronounced. In November, 1844, war began. The President attempted both to cajole and to terrorize his enemies, and moved against the insurgents with a powerful army; but on December 6 the troops at the capital revolted, and the nation concurred. In the departments he was particularly hated, for he had impoverished them with taxes and spent the money elsewhere; but Mexico itself blazed. "Death to the lame man!" shouted the populace, dragging his foot round the streets. Dazed and overwhelmed, Santa Anna, after moving about irresolutely with his dwindling army, left it with a small escort early in January, 1845, and then took to his heels with only four servants. Before long some peasants captured him, and later in the year he was banished.[2.9]

At first sight this collapse amazes us. It seems impossible that Santa Anna, whose particular talent lay in discovering the direction of political currents, should have lost so suddenly his tremendous power. But the explanation is readily found. Without a doubt he was the foremost Mexican of his time. Seen at the head of a ragged, undisciplined mob called a regiment, inspiring them with eye, gesture and words, and leading them on with almost electrical energy; seen at a banquet, where he could show himself--despite the six colonels erect and stiff behind his chair--merely a prince of good fellows, dignified but cordial, courtly but unrestrained, brilliant yet apparently simple; seen at the council board, seizing upon a shrewd idea expressed by one of his associates and developing, illustrating and applying it in a way that made its real author marvel at his chief's wisdom; seen in one of his outbursts of Jacksonian rage, as when he threatened at a diplomatic reception to run the boundary line between Mexico and the United States at the cannon's mouth; seen at the opera house, in a crimson and gold box with a retinue of crimson and gold officers, dressed in the plainest of costumes himself, and wearing on his countenance an interesting expression of gentle melancholy and resignation, as if he were sacrificing himself for the nation and shrank from the gaze of an adoring public--seen in these and other phases he appeared remarkable, and even, as combining them, extraordinary.[2.9]

But in reality he was a charlatan. Though head of an army, he knew nothing of military science; though head of a nation, he knew nothing of statesmanship. By right of superiority and by right of conquest Mexico seemed to be his; and, with what Burke described as "the generous rapacity of the princely eagle," he proposed to take the chief share of wealth, power, honor and pleasure, leaving to others the remnants of these as a compensation for doing the work. It was a cardinal principle with him that the masses could be ignored; and in 1844, having reduced the Church to subservience and formed a combination with the military and the financial men, based on a community of interest in exploiting the national revenues, he deemed himself invulnerable, the more so because the coterie of base flatterers that he loved to have about him reflected this conviction. Of a true national uprising he had no conception; and when this came, finding himself in the presence of a power that amazed and overawed him, seeing his axioms disproved and his pillars going down, he lost heart, and plunged from the zenith to the nadir of his essentially emotional nature.[2.9]

[HERRERA BECOMES PRESIDENT]

Santa Anna's legal successor was General J. J. Herrera, president of the council of state, a fair, pacific, reasonable and honest man; and the new ministry commanded respect. For a time the halcyon days of 1825 returned. This was the first great popular movement since Mexico had become independent. All had united in it, and therefore all were in harmony; every one had assisted, and therefore every one felt an agreeable expectation of reward. Factions laid down their arms. For a few weeks all remembered they were Mexicans. But the situation was extremely difficult. Santa Anna's constitution, which commanded no respect because neither authorized by the people nor endorsed by good results, was still in force. All who believed in his system, including twenty thousand half-pay--or rather no-pay--officers, dissipated, hungry and reckless, began at once to plot for his return or for some one of the same kind to succeed him. Herrera's aim to introduce reforms, both civil and military, gave great offence. Paredes, representing the Church and the aristocracy, stood at the head of the main army, and soon showed a disposition to hold aloof. Indeed every prominent man had a busily scheming clique.[2.10]

The correct course for the new President would have been to declare for the constitution of 1824, and throw himself upon the Federalists; but, fearing that such a step would excite a revolution, he adopted the timid and hopeless policy of trying to balance one party against another. Owing to fear of the army, though he knew he could not rely upon it, he dared not organize militia; and before long a body of troops were allowed to revolt with impunity. Soon, therefore, the government had no prestige and no substantial backing. Every sort of a complaint was made against it. The financial troubles became acute. Confusion and uncertainty reigned, and the President was physically incapable of a hard day's work.[2.10]

In March a conspiracy that indicated an ominous combination of Federalists and Santannistas came to light. In May, under strenuous pressure from England and France, the government shrinkingly agreed to recognize Texas if she would bind herself not to join the United States; and this wise though tardy move brought an avalanche of abuse upon it. In June the Federalists rose, but the affair was badly managed and failed. Tornel, the arch-plotter, a general who never had a command, was sent to the northern army; and other turbulent men were imprisoned. But still the government merely drifted--blind, irresolute, vacillating, moribund; and the general public looked on with complete indifference. Going to sleep red and waking up green--for revolutions usually began at night--was no longer a novelty.[2.10]

In August the ministers resigned; "the chief offices of state were begging in the streets," wrote the correspondent of the London _Times;_ and the men who finally took them, while personally well enough, had little strength and less prestige. By September the government stood in hourly fear of a revolution; but so little booty could be seen, that although the plots thickened, they were lazily developed, and amounted to nothing. Paredes, the Santannistas and the Federalists became constantly more threatening, however, and the administration more and more afraid to take any step whatever, good or bad. Nobody could guess what it would do to-day from what it did yesterday. The anarchy of weakness constituted the government. A triumvirate of Paredes, Tornel and Valencia was much talked of. Many prayed for some respectable despot, many for a foreign prince; and some of the more thoughtful suggested cautiously an American protectorate. "Sterile, deplorably sterile" has been the movement against Santa Anna, exclaimed the friendly _Siglo XIX_ in October, describing it as "a moment of happy illusion." By this time the administration was powerless even at the capital; and on November 30 _El Amigo del Pueblo_, an opposition sheet, announced, "There is no government in Mexico." This, however, was premature. Before the dénouement of this tragi-farce the United States was to enter upon the scene; and as this new phase of the drama requires to be prepared for, we must here leave Herrera, for a brief space, in the midst of his difficulties.[2.10]

[DEPLORABLE STATE OF MEXICO]

Sterile indeed and most deplorable was the whole series of events that we have now followed. One is glad to pass on; but let it be noted first that while circumstances promoted, they did not produce it. The Mexicans knew better, far better, than they acted. In 1824 the Constituent Congress pointed out distinctly in a solemn address to the nation, that without virtue liberal institutions would fail, revolution would follow revolution, anarchy would ensue; and as time went on editors and orators frequently traced the causes of Mexico's downfall in vivid and truthful sentences. The trouble was that a great majority of those who might have advanced her welfare preferred ease to effort, guile to wisdom, self-indulgence to self-control, private advantage to the public weal, partisan victory to national success; and naturally, in such a state of things, the few honorable, public-spirited citizens could seldom command a sufficient following to accomplish anything. Our leading public men, said a contemporary, having been for one reason or another contemptible, have learned to despise and distrust one another, and the public, sick to death of their manoeuvres, have learned to despise and distrust them all; yet such persons--demagogues and soldiers--were still permitted to lead. Paper constitutions and paper laws, naturally of little validity in the eyes of such a wilful, passionate race, had been rendered by experience contemptible.

For the consequences, if there be such a principle as national responsibility, the people as a body were responsible; and so they were for the results of this deplorable schooling as it affected the relations between their country and ours. The inheritance from Spain had been unfortunate, but there had been time enough to recover from it; and instead of improving, the Mexicans had even degenerated.[2.11]

III

THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND MEXICO

1825-1843

In turning from the domestic to the foreign affairs of Mexico we must beware of carrying prejudice with us. Our minds must be open to all the facts, and see them exactly as they were. But it is right and even necessary, for our guidance in interpreting these facts, to presume that aliens, traditionally disliked by the Mexicans,[3.1] were treated no more kindly, fairly and honestly than fellow-citizens; and the evidence is conclusive that even the highest authorities were generally unbusinesslike, often unjust or tricky, and on too many occasions positively dishonorable in their dealings with foreigners.[3.2]

Our first minister to Mexico, received there on June 1, 1825, was Joel R. Poinsett. Apparently a better man for the office could not have been chosen or even created; and the warm interest of the United States in the cause of Spanish-American independence, our prompt recognition of Mexico, and the fact that her political institutions had been modeled upon ours, were additional auguries for the success of his mission. But duty required him to stand for a Protestant power in a country intensely Roman Catholic, to represent democracy where the dominant element consisted of aristocrats hoping more or less generally for a Bourbon king, to support Monroe's doctrine of America for the Americans against the strength of Europe and the European affiliations of Mexico, to vindicate the equal position of the United States where Great Britain had established a virtual protectorate, to insist upon full commercial privileges when the Spanish-American states favored mutual concessions, and to antagonize other influences possessing no little strength.[3.3]

[FRICTION BETWEEN THE TWO COUNTRIES]

His only feasible course was to affiliate with men of the popular, democratic, Federalist party. Largely through his advice they abandoned their plan of rebelling, placed their confidence in organization and the ballot, and so gained the ascendency. They soon fell into excesses of their own, however, which they were glad to charge against a Protestant and foreigner; all the other elements antagonized by him joined in the accusations; envy of the recognized prosperity of the United States assisted; and in the end he came to be almost universally denounced by the Mexicans as the diabolical agent of a jealous, hypocritical, designing government.[3.3]

Of course, the Poinsett affair planted a root of bitterness in the United States. Our national authorities could but protest against the attacks upon our minister that were made by state legislatures in contempt of all diplomatic usage, against the neglect of the Mexican Executive to shield him, and against the general attitude of distrust and ill-will exhibited by that country. Indeed, our government fully believed that baseless popular clamor had been permitted to exert "a sinister influence" against the Americans in its councils, and pointedly informed Guerrero that unless "a marked change" in the temper of his administration should "speedily" occur, a collision might result; and of course the people of the United States could not fail to notice the abusive and even ferocious treatment accorded to our representative, against whom no charges were made by the Mexican government, and to resent still more keenly the insults that were lavished upon the character and purposes of the American nation. The fact that Poinsett continued to be an important factor in our public life, even becoming a member of the Cabinet at a later day, tended to emphasize these feelings, both official and popular.[3.4]

Besides all this, official work of his added to the irritation in both countries. As one of his principal duties, he was instructed to make a treaty reaffirming the boundary agreed upon with Spain in 1819, or, if he could, buy a portion at least of Texas. The proposal that our neighbor should sell us territory has been called by partisan writers in the United States, insulting, but as we have made purchases from Spain, France, Russia and Mexico herself, this accusation is evidently unwarranted. On the other hand the suggestion was reasonable. We for our part desired the land, aside from its intrinsic value, as a needed protection to New Orleans and the Mississippi; and Mexico not only appeared to misprize it, but could have strengthened herself somewhat by letting it go. Later it became a fashion with her public men to declaim about its preciousness and beauty; but as late as 1836, according to Santa Anna himself, many officials did not know where Texas was or what nation claimed it. Mexico had ten times the area she could people, and what she needed in that quarter was the means of shielding her northern settlements from the Indians. Moreover, under contracts already made, Texas was filling up with men who, as President Victoria saw in 1825, were not at all likely to assimilate with the Mexicans; and since it was recognized that a mistake had been made in admitting such colonists, it might well have seemed the part of wisdom to cut off the infected section before it should set an example of dissatisfaction, and perhaps cause trouble also with the United States.[3.5]

Poinsett, accordingly, taking the matter up in July, 1825, stated frankly that the treaty of 1819 was recognized by his country as binding, but expressed a desire to lay it aside, and fix upon a more satisfactory line. This pleased Victoria and Alamán, for they imagined they could push the boundary eastward almost to the Mississippi, but in spite of Poinsett's urgency and his dropping the plan to extend our territory, a long delay followed. At last, however, on January 12, 1828, a treaty of limits reaffirming the agreement with Spain was duly signed. In the course of April it reached Washington and was ratified. On the last day of the month our secretary of state notified the Mexican representative that he was ready to exchange ratifications, and reminded him that under the terms of the instrument this would have to be done by May 12; but Obregón was not prepared to act, and for that reason the treaty failed.[3.6]

Yet the Mexicans not only held that the United States caused the miscarriage in order to prosecute designs upon Texas, but charged officially as well as on the street, with neither evidence nor plausibility in favor of the accusation, that our minister stole the paper--entrusted to him on May 10 for transmission--which would have authorized Obregón to exchange the ratifications. So we had in 1830 this extraordinary picture: on the one hand, the United States earnestly desiring the prosperity and friendship of Mexico, and pursuing a just and sympathetic policy towards her; and, on the other, Mexico accusing us of hostile intentions and the basest arts. From that day on, everything we did was viewed with a jaundiced eye.[3.6]

The treaty of limits was, however, revived by fresh negotiations, and in April, 1832, went into effect. By its terms a joint commission to run the line had to be appointed within a year from this date, and presently Mexico received notice, both at her own capital and at ours, that an American commissioner had been named; but she paid no attention to the matter, and the year expired. Our minister was then directed to negotiate a new agreement, labored for more than twelve months, and finally, by addressing strong language personally to the acting President, carried the point. Yet the United States was officially denounced for endeavoring--and by wretched artifices--to delay the fixing of the boundary.[3.7]

Meanwhile a treaty of amity and commerce, proposed by Poinsett at about the same time as the treaty of limits, had been pursuing a checkered career, though a similar agreement between Mexico and England went rapidly through. At one stage of the proceedings the Mexican plenipotentiaries kept our minister entirely in the dark about an important concession made to Great Britain, falsely assuring him that equally favorable terms were offered to this country. Indeed, Victoria showed a strong disposition to block the business altogether. July 10, 1826, however, the negotiators reached an agreement, but it did not prove satisfactory to the American Senate. A second treaty signed in February, 1828, did not please the Congress of Mexico, and was properly rejected. At a later date negotiations were again resumed; but in 1831 that body held the matter in abeyance for more than nine months. At last, one day before the session was to close, our minister gave notice that unless the treaty were concluded, he would leave the country. The government at Washington also exerted some pressure by insisting that the two matters should fare alike, and postponing the re-ratification of the treaty of limits; and consequently both treaties became law at the same time, April 5, 1832. Yet for nearly a year the commercial treaty was not promulgated by Mexico; and hence, though her citizens residing in the United States could have the benefit of it, Americans in Mexico could not, for the local authorities with whom it was necessary to deal declared they had no knowledge of such an agreement.[3.8]

Toward the close of 1829 Guerrero, as a desperate throw for popularity, asked for the recall of Poinsett, merely saying that public opinion demanded it; and then for about six years the United States had as its representative a friend of Jackson's named Anthony Butler, whose only qualifications for the post were an acquaintance with Texas and a strong desire to see the United States obtain it. In brief, he was a national disgrace. Besides having been through bankruptcy more than once, if we may believe the Mexican minister at Washington, and having a financial interest in the acquisition of this Mexican territory, he was personally a bully and swashbuckler, ignorant at first of the Spanish language and even the forms of diplomacy, shamefully careless about legation affairs, wholly unprincipled as to methods, and, by the testimony of two American consuls, openly scandalous in his conduct. One virtue, to be sure, according to his own account he possessed: he never drank spirits; but one learns of this with regret, for an overdose of alcohol would sometimes be a welcome excuse for him.[3.9]

His particular business was to obtain as much of Texas as possible, an enterprise that lay close to Jackson's heart; and he began by visiting the province--about whose loyalty and relations with the United States much concern was already felt at Mexico--when on the way to his post. This promise of indiscretion in office was admirably fulfilled. Maintaining a hold on our President by positive assurances of success, he loafed, schemed, made overtures, threatened, was ignored, rebuffed, snubbed and cajoled, fancied he could outplay or buy the astute and hostile Alamán, tried to do "underworking" with Pedraza, plotted bribery with one Hernández, the confessor of Santa Anna's sister, grossly violated his conciliatory instructions by engaging in a truculent personal affair with Tornel, and was finally, after ceasing to represent us, ordered out of the country. In short he succeeded only in proving that we had for minister a cantankerous, incompetent rascal, in making it appear that our government was eager to obtain Mexican territory, and in suggesting--though explicitly and repeatedly ordered to eschew all equivocal methods--that we felt no scruples as to means. On the ground of Butler's connection with disaffected Texas, Mexico politely asked for his recall near the close of 1835, and in December Powhatan Ellis, born a Virginian but now a federal judge in Mississippi, was appointed chargé d'affaires.[3.10]

[THE TEXAN REVOLUTION]

A few months later Texas broke away from the mother-country, and her former lords felt sure that from beginning to end, in the colonization, rebellion and successful defence of that region, the hand of the American government could plainly enough be seen. Their state of feeling seemed to Butler "a perfect tempest of passion," and Ellis believed that the Cabinet of Mexico discussed seriously the question of an open rupture with the United States. The Mexican view, however, although supported by a section of the American public, was radically incorrect. Essentially the migration of our citizens across the Sabine formed a part of the great movement that peopled the Mississippi valley. The causes of the Texan rebellion were provided by Mexico herself. That step actually crossed the wish and aims of our administration, which desired to buy the province--not see it become an independent country. From the very first, our national authorities proclaimed and endeavored to enforce neutrality; and they gave the Texans no assistance in their struggle for independence. The British minister at Mexico expressed the opinion to Santa Anna that our government had done all that could be expected, and all that lay in its power; and Santa Anna did not venture to deny this. Individual Americans and sometimes Americans in groups did, it is true, contribute materially to aid the cause of Texas; but in most cases their action was entirely lawful, while in the others it could not be prevented. Moreover, these few trespasses against the law of neutrality were in substance only just retribution for the tyranny, misgovernment and atrocities of Mexico. In reality, therefore, our skirts were as clear as reasonably could have been expected.[3.11]

One phase of the case, however, which excited special indignation at Mexico, requires notice. Two streams from the north send their waters into Sabine Lake, and it was held by some that either of these could be regarded as the Sabine River and, therefore, as marking the boundary. In October, 1833, Butler urged that we insist upon the western stream, commonly called the Neches, and occupy in force the valuable intermediate region, which included Nacogdoches; and for a time Jackson felt inclined to do so. Near the close of 1835 Mexico was officially warned against encroaching upon our territory while fighting the Texans, and suspected that Secretary of State Forsyth took this action with a view to the Nacogdoches district. She therefore became alarmed, and early in 1836 a special minister hastily set out for Washington to investigate the matter. This minister was Manuel E. de Gorostiza, a witty, agreeable man of the world, Mexican by birth, Spanish by education, the author of some clever dramas, but not professionally a topographer, a lawyer or even a diplomat.[3.12]

[BOUNDARY DIFFICULTIES]

Then a delicate matter became suddenly menacing. On both sides of the Sabine there were Indians, who loved war, whisky and plunder as much as they hated work and the whites. A paper boundary, particularly one in dispute, meant nothing to them. Once roused, they were practically sure, as Gorostiza admitted, to rob and murder wherever they could; and not only the fighting in Texas but at least one Mexican emissary enkindled their passions. United States Indians crossed the line and perpetrated outrages. Homes were abandoned. People fled panic-stricken from the vicinity of Nacogdoches; citizens of the town implored American protection against our own Indians; and evidence of an incipient conflagration was placed in the hands of General E. P. Gaines, who commanded our troops on the border.[3.12] Now the treaty of amity required each country to prevent its Indians from ravaging the other; but, as Mexico did not wish us at this time to keep our savages from harassing the Texans, and did not request us to act for her in fulfilling her pledge, which she could not fulfil herself, possibly the treaty, though often cited by the United States, had technically no direct bearing. But the American government argued rightly that substance was more important than form; that the intent of the treaty was to require both countries to prevent "by all the means in their power" an Indian war on the frontier; that it was the paramount duty of the Executive to protect our people, who, as Gorostiza virtually admitted, were liable to be endangered by the threatened conflagration; that as it was known to be physically impossible for Mexico to comply with the treaty, she could not complain of us for doing what she had agreed ought to be done, and had undertaken to do; that, should it be necessary to cross what had been commonly assumed to be the boundary in order to perform our duty--particularly in order to prevent our own Indians from perpetrating outrages on the other side--common sense and the spirit of the treaty warranted our doing it; and that, on account of the distance to the Sabine, it was necessary to give the general commanding there a certain credence and a certain discretion. Our government could have reasoned also, and very likely it did, that the strong desire of the Texans, _de facto_ successors to the Mexicans in that region, that we should fulfil the obligation which the treaty created, was an additional ground for so doing.[3.12]

Accordingly Gaines, while ordered with strong emphasis to maintain a rigid neutrality, was authorized to advance as far as Nacogdoches--an excellent point from which to defend the American frontier and prevent our Indians from operating beyond it--should such a step seem positively necessary; and then, as measures of precaution, Forsyth not only explained our views and intentions personally to Gorostiza, but made in writing what that minister himself described as a "frank and noble" statement, saying that the occupation of the intermediate region, should it occur, would be temporary and for the sole purpose indicated, and would have no significance in regard to the boundary question.[3.12]

Apparently satisfied by the directness and candor of this policy, Gorostiza at first admitted the right of the United States to enter Texas in order to punish actual or prevent intended outrages, and thus conceded that the frontier could be crossed without offence. But apparently, when he had taken leave of the secretary of state, his distrust returned, and his Mexican subtlety imagined all sorts of ugly possibilities. It disturbed him that Forsyth did not formally commit himself, in advance of a survey, against the Neches claim. It alarmed him to find that the state department could not give him early and exact information as to Gaines's movements in a remote, unsettled region. He felt angry that Lewis Cass, who was secretary of war but of course had no control over our foreign relations, looked upon Nacogdoches as American territory. Various other things also appeared to him suspicious, when really his lack of judgment was the chief or only reason. Most important of all, no doubt, he thought of public opinion in Mexico, which was entirely unacquainted with American directness as exemplified by Forsyth, intensely suspicious of us, and intensely hostile.[3.12]

[DIPLOMATIC CLASHES]

He retracted, therefore, as much as possible of his concurrence, opened a war of notes upon our state department, and near the end of the year 1836, on learning from the secretary that in spite of his objections American troops had gone to Nacogdoches, demanded his passports, and left our shores in wrath. His conduct in so doing was officially endorsed by his government, and anti-American feeling in that country became deeper and hotter than before. Nothing could be seen there except that "sacred" soil claimed and long occupied by Mexico, though now out of her control, had been profaned by Gaines's troops, and thus, as all Mexicans argued, the way opened for limitless aggressions. To make the case even worse, it was erroneously believed that Houston's victory at San Jacinto had really been gained by troops then in the service of the United States, and it was said that we were preparing to attack Mexico very soon by sea and by land.[3.12]

Our recognition of Texas, which occurred early in 1837, was entirely in line with our previous action in similar cases, was less prompt than our recognition of Mexico herself had been, and seemed not only warranted but required by the circumstances. That republic had a government in operation which appeared to be competent, and was thought likely to endure. Santa Anna, the President of Mexico, admitted that she could not hope to gain control of the revolted province, even should its troops be vanquished in the field, and expressed a desire that we should open the way to a settlement of the controversy by granting recognition. After 1836, as the Mexican minister of war stated eight years later, there was no serious talk of attempting to subdue Texas. At the date of recognition, since war between us and Mexico seemed almost inevitable, there appeared to be no great need of considering her susceptibilities; and it was feared that England entertained certain designs, unfavorable to us, regarding Texas, which could be defeated or at least hindered by taking this action. As Mexico was totally unable to protect American vessels in the port of Galveston, we had to establish relations with the power that could do so, or else conduct an important part of our trade under hazardous conditions; and no commercial nation willingly accepts the second alternative in such a case. Finally, the leading powers of Europe endorsed our course by doing the same thing before any material change in the situation occurred.[3.13]

Mexico, however, would see none of these facts. Our earliest moves toward recognition were looked upon by her, said the British minister, "as the consummation of a design long since entertained" to rob her of that valuable territory, and excited, as he remarked, a "bitter animosity" that no explanation could even mitigate; and our formal action became one more standing ground of complaint and wrath against the government and people of the United States.[3.13]