_El Excellentissimo Illustrissimo General Don Jose Antonio Lopez de
Santa Anna_.
Such the twice sesquipedalian name and title of him who at this time
wielded the destinies of Mexico. For more than a quarter of a century
this man had been the curse of the young Republic--its direst, deadliest
bane. For although his rule was not continuous, its evil effects were.
Unfortunately, the demoralisation brought about by despotism extends
beyond the reign or life of the despot; and Santa Anna had so debased
the Mexican people, both socially and politically, as to render them
unfitted for almost any form of constitutional government. They had
become incapable of distinguishing between the friends of freedom and
its foes; and in the intervals of Liberal administration, because the
Millennium did not immediately show itself, and make all rich,
prosperous, and happy, they leaped to the conclusion that its failure
was due to the existing _regime_, making no account or allowance for the
still uncicatrised wounds of the body politic being the work of his
wicked predecessor.
This ignorance of political cause and effect is, alas! not alone
confined to Mexico. There is enough of it in England, too, as in every
other nation. But in the earlier days of the Mexican Republic, the
baneful weed flourished with unusual vigour and rankness--to the benefit
of Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, and the blight of his country. Deposed
and banished so many times that their number is not easily remembered,
he was ever brought back again--to the wonder of people then, and the
puzzle of historians yet. The explanation, however, is simple enough.
He reigned through corruption that he had himself been instrumental in
creating; through militarism and an abominable _Chauvinism_--this last
as effective an instrument as the oppressor can wield. _Divide et
impera_ is a maxim of despotic state-craft, old as despotism itself;
"flatter and rule" is a method equally sure, and such Santa Anna
practised to its full. He let pass no opportunity of flattering the
national vanity, which brought the Mexican nation to shame, with much
humiliation--as the French at a later period, and as it must every
people that aims at no higher standard of honour than what may be
derived from self-adulation.
At the time I am writing of, the chief of the Mexican Republic was
aiming at "Imperium"--eagerly straining for it. Its substance he
already had, the "Libertas" having been long since eliminated from his
system of government, and trodden under foot. But the title he had not
acquired yet. He yearned to wear the purple, and be styled "Imperador,"
and in order to prepare his subjects for the change, already kept a sort
of Imperial court, surrounding it with grand ceremonials. As a matter
of course, these partook of a military character, being himself not only
political head of the State, but commander-in-chief of its armies. As a
consequence, _Palacio_, his official residence was beset with
soldier-guards, officers in gorgeous uniforms loitering about the gates,
or going out and in, and in the Plaza Grande at all times exhibiting the
spectacle of a veritable Champ de Mars. No one passing through the
Mexican metropolis at this period would have supposed it the chief city
of a Republic.
On that same day in which Carlos Santander had shown himself at the
Acordada, only at an early hour, the would-be Emperor was seated in his
apartment of the palace in which he was wont to give audience to
ordinary visitors. He had got through the business affairs of the
morning, dismissed his Ministers, and was alone, when one of the
aides-de-camp in attendance entered with a card, and respectfully
saluting him, laid it on the table before him.
"Yes; say I can see him. Tell him to come in," he directed, soon as
reading the name on the card.
In the door, on its second opening, appeared Carlos Santander, in the
uniform of a colonel of Hussars, gold bedizened, and laced from collar
to cuffs.
"Ah! Senor Don Carlos!" exclaimed the Dictator in a joyous, jocular
way, "what's your affair? Coming to tell me of some fresh conquest
you've made among the _muchachas_? From your cheerful countenance I
should say it's that."
"Excellentissimo!"
"Oh! you needn't deny, or look so demure about it. Well, you're a lucky
fellow to be the lady killer I've heard say you are."
"Your Excellency, that's only say-say; I ought rather to call it
slander. I've no ambition to be thought such a character. Quite the
reverse, I assure you."
"If you could assure me, but you can't. I've had you long enough under
my eye to know better. Haven't I observed your little flirtations with
quite half a score of our senoritas, among them a very charming young
lady you met in Louisiana, if I mistake not?"
Saying this, he fixed his eyes on Santander's face in a searching,
interrogative way, as though he himself felt more than a common interest
in the charming young lady who had been met in Louisiana.