But finally, between three and four o'clock, the spell broke. Worth's

men, though astonished and for a time dismayed, had no thought

of giving up. "Victory or death" was not a phrase to them, but a

conviction. Though dikes, ditches, bad ground, corn higher than their

heads, and the Mexican artillery fire broke up their organization,

personal courage and personal leadership survived. In smaller or larger

groups they fought on. Santa Anna, by taking the Fourth Ligero from

Pérez to defend the rear, deducted half the strength of his left wing,

and no doubt Shields's operations, very suggestive of the American

methods used in previous battles, tended to make the troops at the

bridgehead nervous. Gradually a part of the unlucky Sixth and men of C.

F. Smith's and Garland's commands, working toward the extreme American

right, out-reached the enemy, crossed the river, turned the Mexican

line, and moved on toward the highway. This created great alarm. The

fate of Valencia was recalled. Many of the officers wilted. Ammunition

seems partially to have failed; and at length, under a still galling

fire, some of the Eighth Infantry, followed by more of the Fifth, waded

the ditch of the bridgehead--twenty feet broad it was--climbed over the

parapet or pushed through the embrasures, and settled the question hand

to hand.[26.15]

At once Duncan planted two of his guns on the highway near the

convent, and for ten or fifteen minutes, aided by a piece or two

at the bridgehead, he fired with a judgment, rapidity and accuracy

that delighted the on-lookers. By this time two of Rincón's guns

at the right of the convent and one of the other pieces had become

unserviceable; the ammunition, so lavishly expended, had failed the

infantry; and the loss of the bridgehead, which stood on higher and

commanding ground, was recognized as a most serious blow. The artillery

commandant began to move a cannon from the front side to the right.

Only two guns were in play on the front; and our Third Infantry, noting

the slackened fire, dashed over the parapet at the left of the convent.

Still the American deserters would not permit a white flag to be shown,

and the garrison retired sullenly to the interior of the building. But

Captain J. M. Smith, seeing that active resistance was over, now put up

a white handkerchief himself to prevent further bloodshed. The signal

of surrender stopped Duncan's work, too; and the Mexicans, astonished

by the consideration shown them, laid down their arms.[26.18]

Pérez and Bravo with a large part of the troops were now on the way to

Mexico _via_ Mexicaltzingo and Old Peñón, and others were taking flight

along the highway, pursued by Worth's division. Shields perceived what

was occurring, and harangued his brigade. "The South Carolinians will

follow you to the death," answered the "Tigers," as they were called

by Scott. Many, if not all, of the New Yorkers joined them; Pierce's

officers mustered pluck enough to guard the left; and once more a

charge was made. It proved no easy work, though, even now. First and

last more than a third of Shields's brigade were killed or wounded.

Brave, handsome Butler, commanding the Tigers, and his lieutenant

colonel went down, and Colonel Burnett of the New Yorkers fell. But at

last Shields carried the day, captured nearly four hundred Mexicans,

and met Worth's cheering van on the highway.[26.17]

All joined then in the pursuit, supported with a captured 6-pounder

and a howitzer, and took liberal toll as they went, until, after

charging nearly two miles, they were halted by Worth. Orders from the

commander-in-chief to the same effect soon arrived. Four companies of

dragoons under Harney were permitted, however, to keep on, and when

the sight of a battery led him to pull up, Captain Kearny of the First

resolved to charge the guns, and galloped ahead.[26.19]

"Oh, what a glorious sight it was to see Phil Kearny riding into them!"

wrote a soldier. His own troop were picked men; they rode picked

horses--all iron-gray--that now seemed endowed with supernatural

strength; and his other troop were fit comrades. Standing quite upright

in the stirrups they looked like centaurs. Little by little the rear

fours, hearing the trumpet sound the recall, dropped off; but the

leader and about a dozen others kept on like a swift vessel, dashing

the billows of humanity right and left. The battery, which stood at the

garita, fired upon friend and foe alike. Still the little group arrived

there, leaped from their horses to carry it, and found--that they were

alone. The panic of the enemy, however, saved them. Tearing loose and

springing into the saddle, they got away. But a grape-shot was faster

than Kearny; and so, losing an arm but winning a brevet, he finished

valiantly the battle of Churubusco.[26.19]

[AFTER THE BATTLE OF CHURUBUSCO]

Santa Anna's total loss for the day--the killed, the wounded and

especially the missing--may be roughly estimated as 10,000. He

admitted that he lost more than a third of his men. After he was able

to find where he stood (August 30) the Army of the East contained

11,381 privates. Alvarez had 2447 privates (August 26); and, besides

remnants of Valencia's troops, there were doubtless many small bodies

of militia. Scott estimated the Mexicans killed and wounded as 4297,

and 2637 prisoners, including eight generals, were reported; while

the American ordnance was more than trebled, and the scanty stock

of ammunition enormously increased. Out of 8497 engaged in the two

battles, we lost fourteen officers and 119 privates killed, sixty and

805 respectively wounded, and some forty of the rank and file missing,

who probably lost their lives.[26.20]

The high moral qualities displayed by our troops made the day glorious,

as Hitchcock said, "in the highest degree"; and the army, naturally

overestimating the numbers of the enemy, felt exceedingly proud. Scott,

riding about the field, gray and massive, was hailed by the troops as

the very genius of power and command.

"Never did mightier man or horse

Stem a tempestuous torrent's course,"

they felt; and when he addressed them with the eloquence of a soldier's

heart, it seemed as if the cheers that followed must have shaken the

"Halls." Nature, however, appeared to view the situation differently.

The mountains above Padierna wrinkled their foreheads with still

deeper furrows, or knit them with still darker scowls. Dense black

clouds, preceded by gleaming heralds, rushed suddenly across the sky.

Lightning flashed in sheets. Thunders rolled until the earth seemed to

tremble. Torrents of rain deluged the ground; and in a little while,

almost like something heavy and solid, night swiftly and prematurely

descended.[26.21]

XXVII

NEGOTIATIONS

May, 1846-September, 1847

After fighting ceased, the Americans found temporary quarters wherever

they could. Most of Shields's command occupied Los Portales "in a

most deplorable condition," and Worth's division remained at the same

point or in Churubusco. Some of Pillow's men retired to San Antonio,

and there passed the night without rations, blankets, fires or lights,

while others moved across to Mixcoac. A part of Twiggs's lay in a muddy

field without shelter, while the rest made their way to Coyoacán or

San Angel. Some of the troops, covered with sticky mud, slept in a

barn on straw, and acquired an extremely curious appearance. For all

it was a hard night, and perhaps hardest for the officer on guard. The

hours crawled. Thoughts of the battle, the morrow and the distant home

barely stirred his leaden brain. Every instant, drowsiness threatened

to become stupor. Now and then a sentry's challenge, the snort of a

horse, the blast of a bugle roused him with a start. At last came a

streak in the east. He called the drummer, and ordered him to "beat

off." Instantly the sharp roll was taken up by others. The bustle of

men awoke; and the troops were alive again. Joy and pride welled up

in their hearts, but the sadness of bereavement also and a sense of

disappointment. They seemed to have won the race but lost the prize.

Why had they not slept in the city?[27.1]

There were adequate military reasons for this. It was believed that

Santa Anna still had some 20,000 men, and what fortifications defended

the interior of Mexico no one pretended to say. Three surprises had

met the Americans during the past forty-eight hours. They had sick and

wounded, prisoners, wagons and captured material to look after. They

were scattered, unmunitioned, spent. Not a few had become ill. In

spite of Scott's precise orders to carry rations a large number had

gone hungry for about a day, and many had fasted longer. The stock of

provisions had practically been exhausted. If repulsed, the troops

would have faced starvation; if successful, they would have been a

disorganized mass of ravenous, infuriated soldiers in a hostile city.

Almost all, even officers, were eager for a revel in the "Halls";

they would largely have scattered for something to eat and something

to drink; many would soon have been intoxicated; and fearful scenes,

costly alike to them and the inhabitants, would have disgraced the

victory and imperilled the army.[27.1]

[AMERICAN EFFORTS TO MAKE PEACE]

Besides, the aim of the United States was peace; it appeared certain

that in view of the battle just won the Mexicans would be disposed to

offer acceptable terms; and resident Americans as well as neutrals had

assured Scott that by taking the city, breaking up the government,

dispersing the sensible and substantial men who desired a settlement,

and perhaps rousing the people to desperation, he would be defeating

his own government. On the other hand, as the General had reckoned

before leaving Puebla, the presence of a victorious American army

waiting at the gate seemed likely to excite intense fears of slaughter

and sack, and prove a most effective argument for negotiation.

Consequently, though sure he could break his way in, Scott deliberately

sacrificed military glory, and halted. The wish to end hostilities was

the dominant consideration; and, fully to understand this, we must now

place ourselves at Washington, and then return to our present point by

a singularly winding route.[27.1]

Both in his war Message of May 11, 1846, and later, Polk announced

that he would be ready to negotiate whenever Mexico would make or even

hear propositions; and he sought a listening ear with a persistence

due to several causes: a real desire to end the war, a naïve ignorance

of Mexican psychology, the exigencies of home politics and foreign

relations, a natural predilection on his own part and on Buchanan's

for schemes and tactics, and behind all a sincere wish, in accordance

with our long-standing sentiment and policy, for the prosperity and

friendship of the sister republic. Taylor was therefore instructed

to place himself on confidential terms, if possible, at the Mexican

headquarters with a view to bringing about negotiations; and in line

with this policy Worth, while at Saltillo, offered pleasant sentiments

to Santa Anna on the subject of peace.[27.2]

The battles on the Rio Grande and the unwelcome effects of the blockade

tended to sober Mexico, as did the aloofness of Great Britain; and

Marcy counted not a little on the settlement of the Oregon question.

Intimations were received from Consul Black in June and July, 1846,

that not only all thoughtful citizens but Paredes himself desired to

reach an agreement. Bravo and his Cabinet, who temporarily assumed the

reins of government, felt more strongly in the same way, and were more

free to act; other signs also pointed in that direction; and it was

hoped that Santa Anna, should he regain power, would favor peace. The

American administration, on the other hand, felt much embarrassed by

the unexpected seriousness of the problems involved in the conflict.

So on the twenty-seventh of July Buchanan addressed the Mexican

minister of relations, waiving as undesirable all discussion upon the

causes of the war, and inviting negotiations in the most conciliatory

manner.[27.4]

But the government of Salas, which received this overture, had attacked

Paredes for slackness in prosecuting the hostilities; and he now

counted upon this issue for maintaining the power it had given him.

Besides, wrote Bankhead, the Mexicans were still confident they could

hold their own against the United States; and the war spirit ran so

strongly that Santa Anna, returning from exile to treat, remained

to fight.[27.3] Rejón, therefore, answering Buchanan in a lofty and

cutting strain, refused to ignore the causes of the war, and only

promised that Congress, on meeting in December, would take the matter

up. In other words, as an American newspaper observed, he said in

effect: We are sorry that you feel so tired of the campaign; as for

ourselves, we are quite comfortable. The reply was not one to fire the

popular heart of the United States; and without committing Mexico to

anything, it required our Executive to prepare for a long and arduous

contest. Nor was Salas reassuring when he laid the subject before

Congress. "If Mexico fights with constancy and courage, hers will be

the triumph," he proclaimed, and therefore the government has not

desired to hear proposals of peace. Polk answered Rejón by ordering

the hostilities to be conducted more harshly, and by announcing in his

Message at the beginning of December that an indemnity covering the

costs of the war, as well as our claims, would be required; but the

Mexican Congress did nothing.[27.4]

About a week after Buchanan addressed the minister of relations in

July, Polk recommended to Congress a naïve measure admirably fitted to

embarrass peace negotiations as much as it was intended to facilitate

them. This was an appropriation of $2,000,000 to be used in that

business for "extraordinary expenses." Probably the measure, vigorously

though confidentially pressed by the Executive, would have passed; but

Senator Davis killed it by speaking against time. In the following

session a similar proposition granting three millions came up about

the middle of January, 1847, and on March 3, after every Congressman

with a voice had talked himself out, it was carried. The natural result

followed. Even at our Capitol there were open though false charges that

bribery was contemplated, and to the Mexican that design seemed of

course transparently plain. No public man who cares for his reputation

can vote for peace now, said the _Diario_.[27.5]

The sentiment in favor of offering to treat with our weak and

unfortunate neighbor--as illustrated by formal action in Rhode Island

and New York, for example--was in fact strong. Even the British

minister at Washington recognized that the feeling in the Senate was

"entirely in favor of generous and pacific measures towards Mexico."

Such Whigs as Webster and Winthrop demanded that a commission be sent;

Benton favored that idea; and about the middle of January, 1847, it

was powerfully supported by Atocha, who presented himself at the

capital. This cunning and perfectly unscrupulous intriguer, who had

been expelled by Santa Anna's enemies in 1845 because he represented

the dictator's corrupt financial methods and then by Santa Anna himself

in September, 1846, because he knew too much about the Liberator's

dealings with Mackenzie, readily proved his intimacy with leading

Mexicans, created the belief that he was the government's peace agent,

induced our administration to propose on January 18 a meeting of

American and Mexican commissioners at Jalapa or Havana, and was made

the bearer of Buchanan's despatch to the minister of relations.[27.6]

Undoubtedly, though invested with no diplomatic functions, Atocha was

expected to do much personally; but in this he totally failed. At Vera

Cruz the people attempted to murder him. At Mexico he was ordered to

leave almost immediately, and was prevented from talking with any

person of influence; and such use as he contrived to make of the pen,

in suggesting terms of peace to Rejón, proved utterly fruitless. In

short, the American messenger was handled with tongs, and he was back

at Washington about the twentieth of March with an offensively worded

note, refusing to treat until all Mexican lands and waters should be

evacuated by our forces. Clearly this was a most unhappy overture.[27.6]

[WHY MEXICO WOULD NOT TREAT]

Many circumstances combined to inspire such boldness on the part

of our antagonist. Aside from the personal interest of many public

men in continuing the war, and the belief, prompted by vanity and

encouraged by specious arguments, both domestic and European, that

natural defences, latent resources and the military ardor of brave

citizens fighting for their homes would enable her to beat untrained

money-grubbers and "cowardly adventurers," operating far from their

base--aside from all this, hatred of "the rapacious invader," a fear

that peace would only lead to fresh demands and fresh encroachments,

and the fine theory that no people struggling for their independence

could be vanquished exerted a strong influence.[27.7]

The fact that an actual occupation of California would have to be

reckoned with could hardly be faced. To make peace without first

gaining a victory seemed humiliating, sure to be disadvantageous, and

likely to make dispirited Mexico the sport and prey of the whole world;

and Santa Anna in particular felt strongly on this point, because

his personal future as well as the cause of the nation required some

show of success. No peace is possible now except the peace of the

grave--national and racial extinction--it was insisted. Many reasoned

that Polk, to satisfy the United States, would have to demand, as

matters stood, a huge indemnity. Why regret a war that is bringing

so much gold into the country; a war that will overthrow Santa Anna,

the corruptionists, the intriguers, the military men and the sham

patriots; a war that will put an end to extortion and finally unite

all the good elements of the nation, demanded not a few; and why make

sacrifices to stop it, when peace will bring civil wars, which are

worse?[27.7]

Better subjugation than surrender, cried some in desperation; while

others believed that an American conquest and annexation would

extinguish privilege and monopoly, set up a pure democracy, ensure

stability and order, bring in a flood of enterprising northerners, and

make the country prosper. The clergy in particular, anxious to preserve

their property and their ease, felt rather more than willing to accept

such a dénouement. On the other hand, many believed that our people

neither would nor could bear for any length of time the expense of the

contest. This was the key to Rejón's policy, as he told the Spanish

minister. It was, therefore, only necessary to protract the war a

little--meanwhile allowing the wrath of Heaven time to pass away--in

order to reach the very pinnacle of glory.[27.7]

European journals offered much encouragement. Mexico need only be

obstinate, advised the London _Times_, and it seemed a most agreeable

prescription. The United States cannot long maintain the necessary

troops, predicted the _Globe_. The Americans are tired of the war, need

peace more than Mexico, have no disciplined soldiers, cannot follow

up their successes, and with good reason dread British interference,

remarked some of the French papers. Even more significant were

expressions coming from the United States. Hold fast, and you can

make "a brilliant treaty," said a letter. All are disgusted with the

hostilities, and in four years this country will kneel and pray for

peace, declared others. Persistent American denunciations of the war

as dishonorable made the idea of submission look shameful to our

enemies. No nation as brave and numerous as the Mexicans have ever been

conquered, announced the New York _Express_. The American treasury

will soon be empty, predicted the _National Intelligencer_; and that

influential paper endorsed the view that our antagonist could wear us

out. Calhoun used all his powers to show that it would be "folly" to

push the war, and ruin to push it successfully. Still more encouraging

were the Whig orators. In the voice of doom Webster threatened the

President with impeachment; and Corwin exclaimed, "Call home your army;

I will feed and clothe it no longer." Reports of a Whig revolution

circulated at Mexico; and the belief, accepted by many in Europe also,

that at any rate the Whigs would soon come into power and reverse the

policy of the American government, was confidently entertained by our

foes.[27.7]

But nothing proved so comforting, so cheering, as the conduct of our

government. The call for 12-months volunteers appeared to indicate the

limit of our endurance, and invited procrastination. Polk's assurances,

following so many earlier assurances from American Presidents, that for

our own sake we desired Mexico to be strong, prosperous and friendly,

implied that we did not intend to crowd her far. Our conciliatory

language and repeated efforts to negotiate were noted as clear signs of

weakness. The employment of an agent like Atocha seemed a confession of

impotence; and the appropriation of three millions for secret expenses

in order to obtain peace, as _El Republicano_ put it, looked like

throwing up the sponge. Polk wishes to exchange a bad war for a good

bargain, sneered _Le Constitutionnel_ of Paris. An extension of our

boundary was believed to be one aim of the negotiations we urged; and

the Mexicans felt, said Pakenham, that we should not think of buying

territory, if able to take it by force. The idea of selling it under

such circumstances was viewed as doubly degrading.[27.7]

Happily saved by his ignorance of Mexican character and sentiment from

the mortification of knowing all this, fully conscious that the war was

unpopular even with his own party, and hopeful that Buena Vista and the

capture of Vera Cruz had affected Mexico, Polk favored the idea of a

commission. Benton, however, would not have Slidell on the board; the

President could not well ignore Slidell unless a higher official--the

secretary of state himself--should be made sole representative; and no

first-class man could go to Mexico and dance attendance on the whims,

delays and insults of a government that scornfully held off. Indeed,

the nation could not afford to place the head of our state department

or a commission of leading public figures in such a predicament.[27.8]

[TRIST APPOINTED PEACE COMMISSIONER]

At length, however, Buchanan's resourceful mind thought of sending

Nicholas P. Trist, a protégé of his own and now chief clerk of the

state department. Trist's dignity, it was doubtless thought, would not

be too delicate; his action, it seemed evident, could be controlled;

and the glory of success, if a treaty should be made, would belong to

the administration--particularly the secretary of state--and not exalt

the agent in any dangerous political sense. Besides, the chief clerk

was a man of agreeable and impressive appearance, admitted talents,

unusual industry and the highest character; he had studied at West

Point; he knew diplomatic business; as consul at Havana for a term of

years, he had become acquainted with Spanish-American traits; and he

spoke the language of Mexico fluently. He was therefore immediately

appointed as Polk's agent--though officially styled "Commissioner

Plenipotentiary"--to be paid, not as a diplomatic representative,

but from the appropriation for the contingent expenses of foreign

intercourse.[27.8]

The appointment was not, however, entirely felicitous. Trist,

associated with Jefferson as law-student and as grandson by marriage

and associated with Jackson as private secretary, had sojourned on

Olympus and tasted the ambrosia of the gods; but he did not possess

their divine constitution, and ambrosia disagreed with him. It gave him

queer feelings in the head that were not exactly growing pains, and

produced a state of mind that was neither of heaven nor of earth. The

Declaration of Independence was always resounding in his thoughts, and

mentally he was always walking up the stairs of the White House arm in

arm with a hero, sage and prophet; but he overlooked the foundation of

downright common sense on which great men build, and lacked the humor

that might at least have kept him near the ground.[27.8]

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