1846, _Le Journal des Débats_ said the Americans would soon have
California, and thus prepared its readers for the main feature of our
terms. The United States will obtain California, for Mexico cannot pay
an indemnity, echoed _Le National_. In reply to Aberdeen's hint on the
opening of hostilities, that it would be imprudent for this country
to appropriate any Mexican territory, McLane remarked that "it was at
present not easy to foresee all the consequences of a war which Mexico
had so wantonly provoked, and in which the United States had so much
injustice and so many wrongs to redress"; and no British statesman
could have failed to understand what this meant.[35.37]
When Polk's Message of December, 1846, clearly showed that we expected
to retain California, the British newspapers set up an incoherent,
savage growl; but the triumphs at Vera Cruz and Cerro Gordo made
it plain that we had earned--or were likely to earn--the rights of
a conqueror, and must be taken seriously. Bancroft soon wrote that
England was "preparing to hear of our negotiating for half, or two
thirds, or even the whole of Mexico"; and Palmerston himself said we
might as well take it all. "You are the Lords of Mexico," exclaimed
Lord Ashburton to our minister. After the occupation of the capital
even _Le Journal des Débats_ admitted that the only possible indemnity
would be a province or two, and _Britannia_ remarked, "From this time
the whole country must be considered as part of the territory of the
United States." "It is becoming a fashion, rather, to expect the
absorption of all Mexico," reported Bancroft.[35.37]
[OUR PEACE TERMS ACCEPTABLE TO EUROPE]
When the treaty arrived in Europe, the convulsions of widespread
revolution had begun there, people on the continent were too busy to
think much about our gains, and the British did not wish to think of
them; but the general sentiment of those who considered the matter
appears to have been surprise at our moderation. Humboldt, though
a citizen of Mexico, conceded that our terms were proper; and the
critical _Journal des Débats_ remarked, "Assuredly this is sparing a
foe who lies in the dust." Such a characterization of our behavior was
for us a legitimate source of pride; and, as the respect universally
paid to valor and success accompanied it all over Europe, we had ample
reason to feel gratified.[35.37]
XXXVI
CONCLUSION
1825-1848
The conflict with Mexico came to pass as logically as a thunderstorm.
At the beginning of her independent existence our people felt earnestly
and enthusiastically anxious to maintain cordial relations with our
sister republic, and many crossed the line of absurd sentimentality
in that cause. Friction was inevitable, however. The Americans were
direct, positive, brusque, angular and pushing; and they could not
understand their neighbors on the south. The Mexicans were equally
unable to fathom our good-will, sincerity, patriotism, resoluteness and
courage; and certain features of their character and national condition
made it far from easy to get on with them.[36.1]
Though generally amiable and often brilliant or charming, they lacked
common sense, principle, steadiness and knowledge of the world. They
were passionate, suspicious, over-subtle, self-confident and fond of
gamblers' risks. They regarded firmness on our part as arrogance,
and kindness as debility. Their policy was defined by the Mexico
correspondent of the London _Times_ as a compound of Spanish intrigue
and Indian cunning, dominated--it might have been added--by provincial
vanity and sensitiveness. They scarcely possessed the character of a
nation. The whole period from 1822 to 1848 has been classified by their
National Museum as a period of anarchy. Their international duties
were not recognized. Unscrupulous factions and usurpers used foreign
relations as the shuttlecocks of selfish schemes. Pride, said their
own statesman, J. F. Ramírez, forbade them to treat on the necessary
basis of mutual consideration and concession, and insisted upon either
complete victory or the consolation of having yielded to irresistible
force, while procrastination put off the settlement of issues until the
proper time for adjusting them had passed.[36.2]
[WHY MEXICO WAS DEFEATED]
Then between us and this difficult people arose the extraordinarily
complicated question of Texas. It was characteristic of Mexico to deny
the justice of the Texan revolt on the ground that settlers in her
territory were bound to accept the political will of the country; but
it was futile. "Nobody will be argued into slavery," said Burke; and
this was peculiarly true when the proffered slavery did not in truth
represent the will of the country, and was more capricious, cruel
and injurious than the régime against which the Mexicans themselves
had rebelled. Our recognition of Texas not only was founded on just
reasons, but was concurred in by the leading powers of Europe. The
annexation of that republic meant the wise and unforced incorporation
of a free people, independent both by right and in fact, after Mexico
had practically abandoned all expectation of its becoming once more
a part of that nation, and entertained little hope save to gratify a
stubborn pride at the expense of Texas and the rest of the world.[36.3]
Her treatment of Texans and Americans violated the laws of justice and
humanity, and--since there was no tribunal to punish it--laid upon
the United States, both as her nearest neighbor and as an injured
community, the duty of retribution. In almost every way possible,
indeed, she forced us to take a stand. She would neither reason
nor hearken to reason, would not understand, would not negotiate.
Compensation for the loss of territory, in excess of its value to
her, she knew she could have. Peace and harmony with this country
she knew might be hers. But prejudice, vanity, passion and wretched
politics inclined her toward war; her overrated military advantages,
her expectations of European aid, the unpreparedness of the United
States, and in particular the supposed inferiority of Taylor and his
army encouraged her; and she deliberately launched the attack so long
threatened.
As was just and natural, Mexico primarily owed her failure in the war
to the characteristics that led her into it. From a strictly military
point of view her case was not precisely hopeless. Intrinsically the
rank and file of her armies, though not by nature warlike, had courage
enough, and possessed an extraordinary degree of that willingness
to endure fatigue and hardship, which Napoleon deemed still more
important. They were more frugal and obedient than our men; and while
the lack of moral and physical strength, discipline and confidence
in one another and their officers made them shrink from the American
bayonet and the fixed American eye behind it, they bore infantry and
artillery fire as well as we did, if not better. Many engineers proved
themselves excellent; many artillery officers were brave and efficient;
and hence there was no reason why the infantry and cavalry might not
have been well handled.
But the military point of view was by no means the only one to be
considered. The want of public virtue had filled the army with
miserable officers, the legislative halls with dishonest, scheming,
clashing politicians, and the whole nation with quarreling factions
and wrathful, disheartened people, secretly thankful to find their
oppressors, whom they could not punish themselves, punished by the
Americans. The hungry and beaten conscript went into battle sure that
if wounded he would starve, if killed he would be devoured by the
birds, and should neither accident occur he would simply drudge on as
before; and the industrious, useful citizen understood, that if he
should help the leaders of the nation by paying contributions, he would
then have to fatten them by paying again. "We are saved by hope," wrote
the great Apostle, and the nation saw no hope. Primarily Mexico was
defeated because she did not fight; and she did not fight because she
had nothing to fight for. The military class, who had long pretended
to be the nation, was given a chance to prove its claim, and the poor
wretches who could be forced into the ranks had to support it; but the
people in general, holding aloof to a great extent, said in effect,
"Thou who hast consumed all the revenues without giving anything in
return, thou for whom we have sacrificed so much, thou who hast used
our own blood to make thyself master instead of servant--may the woe
thou hast so long inflicted on us fall now on thee!"[36.4]
Santa Anna, the logical hero of such a nation, was also its logical
scourge--a statesman unable to guide, a general unfitted to command, a
leader qualified only to win revolutions, lose battles, and alternate
between dictatorship and exile. Some observers--even American
officers--impressed by the imposing front that he reared time after
time, felt that he was a great man. Unquestionably he gathered troops
and resources as no other Mexican of the time could have done. No
doubt his lunge into the north and his defence of the capital were
remarkable; and one could not complain of him, as did Tacitus of a
Roman commander, that he was unable to harangue his army. He certainly
did many things.[36.5]
But he did few things well. His achievements were the temporary
triumphs of autocratic will-power. He suffered always from an
essential want of capacity. He did not understand the Americans, and
fancied that one defeat would cow us. He did not even understand
his fellow-citizens, and could not realize that his long course of
misconduct, and finally his negotiations with Mackenzie, had cut the
root of confidence. A proclamation that sounded eloquent, he felt must
be convincing. The impossibility of controlling the factional politics
of such a country and also managing a war without the support of the
nation--of riding two such horses at the same time--lay beyond his
comprehension. Often his policy was like that of the man who ruins his
constitution with drugs in order to cure a local ailment. Even his
apparently noble decisions grew out of selfishness and rang hollow.
To his mind a collection of men was an army. Personal aims and
feelings, instead of sound policy and the demands of discipline,
controlled mostly his relations with officers. Because a revolutionary
band could be held together by the hope of plunder, he imagined that
a campaign could be waged on that basis. Because he thought it would
be natural for the enemy to attack him in a certain way, he concluded
positively that no other attack would be made. Strategy he did not
attempt. And when it came to the direction of a battle, owing to
ignorance and intellectual disqualifications, he lacked the quickness
of perception and rapidity of combination that were essential to
success. For the same reasons his total strength was never focused at
the vital time and place, and a defeat became a rout.[36.6]
This is what a final glance at the Mexicans reveals; and now, to
conclude the whole investigation, we should take a summary view of our
own side.
[THE AMERICAN CONGRESS]
While the Congress of the United States did not approach that of Mexico
in badness, there was too much resemblance. One should always remember
that among the people who really make up the world and keep it going
perfection is, and is likely to be, somewhat rare; but for an elect
body our Congress fell below all reasonable expectations. The comedy of
its political manoeuvres was only surpassed by the tragedy of them.
Amos Kendall said, after the hostilities began, "There can be no peace
with that people [the Mexicans] but through victory or with dishonor,"
and any person of judgment could see this; yet prejudices, passions and
interests prevented many from honestly supporting a national war, and
turned not a few into virtual enemies of their country. Markoe wrote
from Vera Cruz with reference to Clay, Webster, Gallatin and others
of their school, "These great men have by their speeches done more
to prevent peace than though they had each of them severally arrayed
10,000 Mexicans against Scott"; and when one recalls the expense and
bloodshed that would almost certainly have been spared this country
and Mexico had our government felt at liberty to spend with decent
liberality in meeting Scott's requisitions promptly, patience itself
takes fire.[36.7]
To think of giving him so small an army that the Mexicans felt
positively ashamed to yield! And then to reflect how politics went into
the army itself, endangering the lives of men and the fortunes of the
country through unfit appointments. "How we have been gulled and led
about," exclaimed a soldier, "by a set of political demagogues, who,
regardless of the fearful responsibility, have forced themselves into
positions they possess no qualifications to fill, with a hope thereby
to promote their future political aggrandizement!" We recall, even
though we do not endorse, the Frenchman who observed, "The more I see
of the representatives of the people, the more I love my dogs"; and we
also recall the opinion of a British king: "Politics are a trade for a
rascal, not for a gentleman."[36.8]
The President showed himself a small man, but the saying of La
Rochefoucauld comes to mind: "We may appear great in an employment
beneath our merit, but we often appear little in ones too great for
us." The situation in which Polk, essentially a local politician from
Tennessee, found himself--called upon to re-make the fiscal system of
the country, to dispose of long-standing and now critical issues with
Great Britain and Mexico, to cope with a factious and unscrupulous
opposition in Congress, and to face a war in a foreign land, almost
unknown to us, with a handful of regulars commanded by Whigs--was
extremely difficult; but he steered his course firmly to the end, set
an example of honest, faithful administration, established a fiscal
system under which the country enjoyed a period of great prosperity,
effected with England an adjustment that in essence had been refused,
enjoyed a series of uniform triumphs in the field, and obtained from
our enemy the peace and the territory he desired.[36.9]
Indeed, he achieved a still more surprising triumph, for he disproved
the favorite American axiom: "Nothing succeeds like success." His lack
of commanding qualities, his inability to win admiration and sympathy,
and his resorting to small methods because he lacked the power to wield
great ones, made him seem legitimate prey. He became the dog with a
bad name, for which any stick or stone was good enough. Other men in
public life could misrepresent the facts--as many were doing all the
time--and still be honored; but if Polk "put the best foot forward,"
if he allowed men to draw inferences from their wishes, if--wittingly
or not--he colored things, if--even by accident--he made an incorrect
statement, he was promptly denounced as a villain.
And when he had supported his tremendous burden loyally, if not
with éclat; when denunciations had failed, threats crumbled, taunts
miscarried, hostile predictions fallen to the ground; when our people
had not risen up against the war, our treasury had not collapsed, our
armies had not withered away; when our sword had been wielded with
honor, our territory and commercial field been extended far to the
west, our international status been elevated--after all these triumphs
the bitter tongue of a partisan spit out on the floor of our national
House the famous nickname, "Polk the Mendacious," the President left
office under a leaden cloud of disparagement and contempt, and later
authors delighted to dip their pens in the gall of his enemies. Truly,
however little we feel inclined to go into raptures over Polk, we can
admire his traducers even less.
[GENERAL TAYLOR]
Next, in view of the civil as well as military fame gained from the
war by Taylor, one thinks of him. In reviewing his operations we must
beware of judging him by mere professional standards, for he was
more, as well as less, than a technical soldier. The most essential
qualities for a general, says the Baron de Jomini, are physical and
moral courage; and in these respects the head of our army of occupation
was flawless. Indeed almost all the moral qualifications of an eminent
commander were his. He was a born fighter and born leader. He could
think best in danger and excitement. He could inspire confidence and
win devotion. The fact that one so plain could be a paladin made even
the ordinary feel capable of heroism. Like all undisciplined men of
great force he possessed large reserves of strength, and when an
emergency stimulated these, he displayed a power that compelled those
on the ground to imitate and those at a distance to admire him.[36.10]
On the other hand, most of the intellectual qualifications of the
commander were largely wanting. To be sure he possessed a great
deal of practical shrewdness, and he used moral force with a broad
sort of calculation that enabled him to produce effects which a
mere educated soldier could scarcely have obtained. But he did not
understand the aims or the art of war, lacked initiative, failed in
prevision, neglected preparation, ignored details, took little care
to gather information, misunderstood the intentions of the enemy, and
underestimated their strength. He preferred swinging an axe at a door
to conducting the battle sagaciously from a distance. He would chat
with soldiers about home, and then sacrifice their lives.
His "victories" made him famous, but the true test of generalship,
observes Henderson, is "the number of mistakes"; and every stage of
Taylor's progress was marked with grave errors. Besides, "however
brilliant an action may be," remarks La Rochefoucauld, "it ought not
to pass for great when it is not the result of a great design"; and
not only were none of Taylor's exploits deliberately planned, but he
never understood the risks he was braving. Some ironical but loving god
seemed to attend him. The life he carelessly, improvidently ventured
was guarded; and insubordination, both toward the President and toward
the general-in-chief, made him the successor of the first and the
superior of the second. "Old Zack is the most lucky man alive," said
Colonel Campbell.[36.11]
[GENERAL SCOTT]
Scott, however, was of course the pre-eminent commander. In war he
felt at home. He "is a Soldier and a General from the ground up,"
wrote Consul Parrott after watching his operations. With the possible
exception of Molino del Rey, the petulant indiscretion that he
sometimes exhibited in civil affairs did not affect his conduct in the
field. To appreciate him, "to _know_ him at all," said Trist, one had
to see him in the military sphere. Karl von Grone, who observed him
at work, wrote: "He is quiet, reserved, reflective. When, after mature
consideration of the circumstances, he has formed his decision, he
goes with strong, sure steps to his goal. He can manage with scanty
resources, is adroit in deceiving the enemy, and where feints are not
possible, deals a heavy, straight blow. When main force must break the
way, he demands much from his troops; but, as he possesses their full
confidence, and is recognized as a fighter of dauntless courage, he can
do this."[36.12]
"He sees everything, and calculates the cost of every measure," said
Robert E. Lee. He could be "quick as guncotton when neccessary," wrote
Parrott, yet deliberate and cautious under the utmost pressure. His
initiative and self-reliance never failed; yet, as even the prejudiced
Semmes admitted, he made full use of all the talents, as well as
all the valor, of his army. Though his plans were laid with extreme
care in view of all the information that could be obtained, he never
permitted them to shackle him, and promptly adapted himself, whether in
campaign or in battle, to a change of circumstances. Both great things
and little things were given his attention, but with due reference to
their comparative importance. He knew the rules of his art, and also
knew when to disregard them. He could both rouse troops to the highest
pitch of enthusiasm, and surpass the calculations of the expert. Says
Hamley, it is "impracticable" to "conceive how sustained operations can
be conducted in the face of an enemy without a secure starting-point."
Scott accomplished this.[36.12]
Characteristics of a more personal kind supported his professional
ability. The General, Trist assured his wife, was "the soul of honour
and probity, and full of the most sterling qualities of heart and head;
affectionate, generous, forgiving and a _lover of justice_." Though
few made allowances for his imperfections, he was always ready to do
this for others; and his magnanimity would have been remarkable, even
had he not been a natural fighting man. Such traits enabled him to get
on excellently with reasonable officers, while his ability, prudence,
vigilance, good cheer, steadiness, courage, sympathy, and trust in
his army, and his anxiety to avoid wasting the labor and lives of the
men, gave him the entire confidence of the privates. A soldier who
loved peace instead of war, a general who valued the lives of his
troops more than glory, a conqueror who became in the hour of triumph
a friend, and a citizen who placed his country above self-interest, he
was the ideal commander of a republican army.[36.13]
To speak broadly and leaving genius out of the account, he possessed
all the military qualities of Taylor, and all Taylor lacked. Taylor
could fight splendidly, Scott could also avail himself of the
advantages that knowledge and skill were able to supply. The soldiers
of the one believed their leader was going to win, those of the other
could give reasons for their faith. The army of occupation was ready
to follow its commander with eyes shut, the army of conquest with
eyes open. Both were kind at heart, but Scott's humanity was made
systematically effective. Both faced perils with unwavering courage,
but Scott did all he could to understand what lay before him. Both
complained of the government, but Scott had reason to do so. Both
disregarded instructions; but while Taylor aimed to gratify himself,
Scott's aim was to benefit his country.[36.14]
The advantages were not all on one side, however. Taylor had excellent
control of his temper and the everyday, personal shrewdness that
Scott needed. His unsophistication bore the winning appearance of
ingenuousness, while Scott's reflective and studious ways gave him
the reputation of a schemer. Each needed to be supplemented, but only
Taylor had a Bliss. Scott's men felt they were serving under a strong
leader, Taylor's that they were serving with one; while to Great Demos,
always undiscriminating, the one represented head, the other heart; the
one science, the other heroism.[36.14]
Both were remarkable. Taylor was a distinguished plebeian, Scott a
distinguished patrician; the first a superb captain, the second a
superb general; and each a great man.
[THE AMERICAN ARMY]