California, a considerable number of peaceable Americans and other
foreigners, residing at scattered points, were suddenly arrested in a
brutal and even bloody manner on the pretext of a conspiracy, and their
property was confiscated. Even the possession of legal passports did
not protect them. After suffering inhuman treatment, they were sent in
irons to Mexico. There only the charity of strangers preserved their
lives; and at length, after marching under blows and with bleeding feet
as far as Tepic, they were thrust into prisons. No doubt they were rough
in character and behavior, and the presence of such bold, vigorous
foreigners in a weakly governed region obviously involved some dangers;
but they had rights. No evidence justifying the treatment they received
was brought forward, and the government at Mexico, even while ordering
them expelled from the country without compensation, admitted the
illegality of their arrest. Finally, as the British minister demanded,
they were permitted to go home; but Mexico failed to bear the expense of
their journey, as she had promised to do, and paid but a slight, if any,
indemnity. Such conduct when she had millions for the army, the civil
wars and the pockets of officials, was inexcusable. Justly enough this
affair excited the deep indignation of our government and people.[3.18]
In June, 1841, a Texan expedition set out for Santa Fe, hoping to
bring about the incorporation of New Mexico in the new republic, but
not planning under any circumstances to make war; and a considerable
number of Americans--among them Kendall, editor of the New Orleans
_Picayune_--joined the caravan with commercial or other peaceable
aims. After a while the entire body were made prisoners by the Mexican
governor. Kendall's passport, when duly exhibited under a flag of truce,
was taken from him; and, although the utmost penalty incurred under
Mexican law by the non-combatant Americans was expulsion, they were
driven with instances of extreme brutality to Mexico, and compelled
to work in chains on public roads. For one reason or another a few of
our citizens gained their freedom from time to time; but it was not
until well on in 1842--and then as an act of condescension instead of
justice--that Santa Anna released the main body of them. Of course this
country felt highly incensed again; and the Executive, while disclaiming
all desire to screen Americans from any deserved punishment, ordered our
minister to protest against the treatment of the prisoners, declaring
that Mexico would be required to observe the rules prescribed by modern
public law. On the other side of the Rio Grande still more passion was
aroused, but in the opposite sense.[3.19]
Beginning in a humble way, a caravan trade between St. Louis, Santa
Fe and Chihuahua grew to large proportions, and eventually interested
even the New York and Philadelphia merchants; but this commerce, though
sanctioned by treaty, was looked upon by Mexico with disfavor from
the very first. Excessive taxes were imposed at the frontier and at
Chihuahua; and finally, in August, 1843, Santa Anna arbitrarily locked
the door. Possibly there was a baseless notion that political designs
upon New Mexico were entertained in the United States; competition with
native traders may have been feared; and it was charged that smuggling
occurred. But competition and smuggling are unavoidable features of
international commerce; and if they afforded an adequate reason for
disregarding a formal agreement, international trade arrangements would
not be worth making. Our citizens and government objected therefore
vigorously and with justice to Santa Anna's course.[3.20]
One week after this decree went forth, another prohibited the
importation of certain specified articles at any point, and ordered the
forfeiture of such merchandise, already in the hands of dealers, if not
sold within the ensuing twelve months. The list of articles, printed
solidly in small type, filled nearly an octavo page, and apparently was
intended to include almost everything embraced in our trade with Mexico.
Peculiarly harsh seemed the forfeiture provision. Not only was it _ex
post facto_, but our traders by paying the duty had become entitled to
the privilege of selling their goods; and the American secretary of
state could do no less than protest against the law, as "a manifest
violation of the liberty of trade secured by the treaty." Yet something
still more serious followed it, for aliens were soon prohibited from
doing retail business at all. An attempt was made to defend this order
on the ground that Americans residing in the country were subject to its
laws, usages and statutes; but our government replied that a treaty must
be regarded as the supreme law, and that if one solemn agreement with
Mexico could thus be made a nullity, all the other privileges accorded
us could one by one be abrogated.[3.21]
These commercial grievances, however, were trifles compared with
another of the same halcyon period. In July, 1843, Tornel, the
minister of war, instructed the governors of California and three
other northern departments to expel all citizens of the United States
residing therein, and permit no more of them to enter. Extraordinary
precautions were taken to keep this measure secret, and Waddy Thompson,
our representative at Mexico, first learned of it on December 23. Four
times he inquired in vain whether such an order had been issued; but
when he demanded his passports, Bocanegra attempted to justify Tornel's
instructions, arguing that every government is authorized to protect
itself against seditious aliens. This was an evasion, for the order had
reference to all Americans, however law-abiding. The outcome was that
now, after the order had been in force almost six months and after it
had been executed in at least one department, directions were given
to make it include all foreigners, and apply only to the seditious.
Thompson, strongly disposed to please the Mexicans, accepted this as
satisfactory; but his country did not, for the governors had authority
still to decide what Americans were dangerous, and expel these without
a trial. Besides, even the modified order required them to prevent our
citizens from entering their jurisdictions, and thus plainly violated
the treaty.[3.22]
All of the grievances thus far mentioned bore directly upon the general
government of Mexico, but there were also many others, primarily
chargeable to minor authorities, in which our national rights were
seriously attacked;[3.23] and next we reach the question of "American
claims"--that is to say, private injuries for which damages were asked.
At once the idea occurs to us that perhaps our citizens brought their
troubles upon themselves by peculiarly obnoxious conduct. This does not
appear likely to have been the rule, however, for the British, although
the Mexicans felt anxious to have their goodwill and assistance,
complained loudly and long, and their government protested in the most
emphatic and sweeping style. Indeed, said Ashburnham, the chargé of
England: "There is scarcely one foreign power with whom they have had
any relation, which has not had more or less cause to complain of the
iniquity and persecution to which its subjects here have been exposed;"
and France, though her claims were much smaller than ours, took up arms
on this account. Bearing in mind, then, how peculiarly inimical were the
people and authorities of Mexico toward us, one can readily imagine what
sort of treatment citizens of ours had to endure.[3.24]
[THE AMERICAN CLAIMS]
In the next place one desires to be sure whether our actual claims were
real or, as some American and Mexican writers have asserted, were simply
"trumped-up." That a few of the less important ones had no basis is
apparently true, but it must be remembered that our government was bound
to consider any case resting on _prima facie_ support, and ask for
an investigation. It could not, like the Mexican authorities, examine
the records necessary for the detection of all mistakes and frauds.
Moreover, the existence of unfounded claims, if such there were, does
not matter to us, for the real question is merely whether substantial
sums were justly demanded. On that point one immediately reflects, not
only that our national authorities were scarcely capable of conspiring
with skippers and traders to pick the pocket of Mexico, but that, had
they been silly enough to present a list of imaginary claims, her
quick-witted if not profound officials would have delighted to analyze
and expose the frauds. Coming then to the question, one can answer it
positively in the affirmative. Both national and international tribunals
decided that we had well-founded and substantial claims.[3.25]
It has been urged, however, that our demands required very difficult
and extensive investigations, which in the midst of her embarrassments
Mexico could not reasonably be expected to enter upon; but many, if not
most, of the claims were in fact simple.[3.26] It has been insisted
that as aggrieved Mexicans in the United States appealed to our courts,
the proper policy for aggrieved Americans was to appeal to the courts
of Mexico;[3.27] but the assumed analogy did not exist. The Mexican
tribunals, in addition to being notoriously bad from every point of
view, were sometimes deliberately used to perpetrate iniquities, and
could not always enforce their fair decisions.[3.28]
American writers have also argued that it was contemptible for a strong
and rich nation like ours to demand money from a poor neighbor; but
the extent of our national resources had no bearing on the rights of
individual citizens, crippled or impoverished by Mexican injustice.
This, however, is by no means all that should be said. The wisdom
and the equity of the civilized world are embodied in its laws, and
those laws agree that one's debts are to be paid. Spendthrifts are not
exempted from the effects of this rule, and the poverty of the Mexican
treasury was due not only to carelessness but also to crime. Moreover,
if an amiable, "_siempre-alegre_" young man borrows without repaying,
wastes his substance in riotous living, and perpetrates outrages on the
passers-by, it is the duty of some creditor to bring him before the
courts, and convince him in a practical manner that, as a member of
civilized society, he is accountable for his acts. The same principle
holds of international relations. "All political communities are
responsible to other political communities for their conduct," wrote
Canning to the Spanish government; Webster enunciated the same rule;
and it was not only the right but the duty of the United States--as a
fellow nation, a sister republic and a next neighbor--to bring Mexico
to her senses by teaching her what membership in the family of nations
involved. Had this been done at the beginning of her wild career,
she might have put her house in order before bad practices became
habitual.[3.29]
Again, we shall presently find good reasons to believe, that had
Mexico fairly examined our claims and frankly stated her financial
difficulties, a lenient arrangement regarding what were after all
moderate sums for a nation to pay could readily have been made. Further
still, if Mexico was too poor to discharge her debts promptly, it
was incumbent upon her, besides recognizing them, to show a certain
appreciation of the indulgence accorded her; but instead of so doing she
continued to harass American citizens, and showed, as we shall find,
a distinct lack of good-will and even of straightforwardness in her
dealings with us.
Finally, it has been repeated over and over again by American and
Mexican writers that our claims were urged aggressively. But the history
of the matter does not read in that way. Our demands for redress began
early in Poinsett's day. In October, 1829, Butler was directed to lay
them before the Mexican government, but at the same time to avoid
"anything like menace or defiance." Morning after morning his table was
covered with fresh American remonstrances against official conduct,
he reported, and for years his efforts met only with rebuffs; yet
his instructions were still to maintain amicable relations, and our
government set him the example.[3.30]
[OUR CLAIMS CONSIDERATELY URGED]
In June, 1836, Ellis reported that "daily" acts of "injustice and
oppression" continued to be perpetrated, while every application for
redress was treated with "cold neglect"; yet the next month he was
merely instructed to "make a fresh appeal" to the "sense of honor and
justice" of the Mexican government, asking that our grievances "should
be promptly and properly examined" and "suitable" redress be afforded.
In order, however, to check what the British minister called "their
usual system of evasion," a satisfactory reply of some kind within
three weeks was to be required, and should it not be made without
"unnecessary" delay, Ellis, after giving a fortnight's notice, was to
withdraw. In October Monasterio, after delaying for weeks to answer
Ellis, admitted that his predecessors had neglected this business, and
promised he would give his first attention to our claims, many of which,
as we know, were very simple, very old and very familiar to the foreign
office; but his reply, the following month, was mere evasion. Why, asked
Ellis, have not the claims presented during the past ten years been
either accepted or rejected? But the mystery was not explained, and at
the end of December, 1836--after waiting, not three weeks, but three
months--he withdrew. Meanwhile Gorostiza distributed among the diplomats
at Washington a pamphlet in which he accused our government of grossly
dishonorable conduct in regard to Texas; and the unqualified approval
of his superiors turned this impropriety into a grave international
issue.[3.31]
President Jackson had originally felt most sympathetic toward Mexico;
and although Butler and Ellis agreed that indulgence was a mistaken
policy, and her official journal described all Americans as villains
and all our claims as the pretexts of smugglers, yet in a Message of
December, 1836, Jackson recommended courtesy and great forbearance. The
evasions practised upon Ellis, however, and still more the approval of
Gorostiza's insulting pamphlet, sharpened his feelings, and early in
February, 1837, he laid the subject of our claims anew before Congress,
as it was his right and his duty to do, proposed to make the next demand
for settlement from the deck of a warship, and asked for authority to
undertake reprisals in case that step also should prove ineffectual. In
the official view of Mexico, Gaines's advance and Gorostiza's withdrawal
from Washington amounted to a formal rupture, even though Castillo, her
ordinary representative, lingered in the United States until March; and
in our own official opinion the endorsement of Gorostiza's conduct, the
refusal to examine our claims, and the return of Ellis could signify
hardly less. Under such circumstances Jackson's February Message was
perfectly normal and proper.[3.32]
Congress took substantially the same view as the Executive; but
there was some fear of Mexican privateers, a good deal of pity for a
sister republic supposed to be the victim of circumstances, a little
unwillingness to increase Jackson's power, a pronounced wish to comply
exactly with the treaty of amity, which required formal notice in
advance of hostilities, and considerable hope that Santa Anna, who had
now been restored alive to his country through the magnanimity of the
Texans and the Americans, would reciprocate by endeavoring to adjust
our claims. Another consideration, however, was probably still more
potent. The administration party felt that should war be declared, the
opposition would say its real object was the acquisition of Texas; and
so Jackson's well-known desire to obtain that region prevented in large
measure, instead of causing, an outbreak of hostilities. It was decided,
therefore, to make the final demand for redress in a peaceful manner,
and to show full respect for what the House of Representatives described
as our "ancient, though now estranged, friend."[3.33]
In March, 1837, Van Buren became President, and found it necessary to
take some action. The documents bearing on our claims were critically
examined; fifty-seven cases, apparently free from doubt, were made out
and proved; and in July, Robert Greenhow, interpreter of the state
department, presented them at Mexico with a final demand for redress,
adding that we had no desire to cause embarrassment by pressing for
payment. On one point, however, he insisted: Gorostiza's conduct must
be disavowed. The minister of relations admitted in reply that certain
of the cases did not require long examination, which was indeed true;
but he said the President, while "most anxious" not to cause delay,
wished that "each" of them should be examined "in its turn" and that
"nothing should be left undone" which could promote "the most speedy and
equitable" settlement.[3.34]
In November Martínez, a new minister to the United States, whom we
received kindly even though Gorostiza's action had not been disavowed,
presented the answer of his government. Instead of the document
officially transmitted by Greenhow, an obsolete, incomplete and
necessarily inaccurate list of our claims, obtained nobody knows how,
had been used; only four of our fifty-seven living cases had even been
considered; and not one of these had been disposed of. Accordingly,
when our Congress assembled in December, 1837, the Executive laid the
whole subject before it anew, analyzed Mexico's evasive reply--so
different from what had been solemnly promised--announced that fresh
outrages of a serious and exasperating sort had been committed, and
plainly intimated that no hope of a peaceful settlement could be
entertained. Evidently the patience of the United States had nearly
come to an end; but before Congress was ready to act, Martínez proposed
a scheme of arbitration, which--though formally decided upon by
Mexico in May, 1837--it had apparently been her deliberate purpose
to hold in reserve until all other dilatory tactics should have been
exhausted.[3.35]
[ARBITRATION AGREED UPON]
Naturally our government hesitated to adopt a plan which, as the British
representative at Mexico wrote when he heard of it, was precisely the
one to "gratify the favourite object" of our debtors--"the gaining of
time and postponement of the day of reckoning"; but in April, 1838,
quite unlike France and much to the surprise of Mexico, we accepted
arbitration, and it then appeared that Martínez had no powers to act
in the matter. For months, indeed, although our consul at Mexico was
assuring that government of our fair and friendly disposition, he did
not receive them.[3.36]
In September, 1838, however, a convention was signed. Martínez stated
that it would not have to be ratified by the Congress of his country,
but her President ruled otherwise, and then with an extremely poor
excuse did not submit it. So the time limit arrived; and, to the intense
disgust of our people and administration, the agreement lapsed. The poor
excuse was accepted by our government, however, and in April, 1839,
after two years had thus been frittered away, another convention was
made, providing that each country should name two commissioners, and the
king of Prussia select a fifth person to be an umpire; and as Mexico
disavowed Gorostiza's conduct in circulating the offensive pamphlet, our
patience appeared to be rewarded.[3.37]
In the opinion of Pakenham, British minister at Mexico, the arbitration
arrangement was "a very fortunate circumstance" for the debtor nation,
and one that she ought to observe scrupulously; but the minister of
relations, without even a poor excuse, failed to consider seriously the
appointment of commissioners until a few days before the treaty required
them to be in Washington, and consequently the agreement expired.
Mexico, however, could not well take advantage of this fact; the United
States waived it; and on August 25, 1840, nearly two and a half years
after we had accepted arbitration, the joint commission was organized.
The representatives of Mexico were Señores Castillo and León, one of
whom, being unfamiliar with business, fell under the control of his
colleague, while the other was described by Pakenham as conspicuously
dishonest. In eighteen months from that date, according to the treaty,
the labors of this body were to end. To kill time was, therefore, to
kill claims--or at any rate bury them.[3.38]
When the subject of the commission was discussed in 1838, Forsyth
took the ground that it would be a judicial body, guided solely by
the evidence before it; and this principle was apparently accepted
as fundamental. Webster, now the secretary of state, pointed out
that it was essentially and necessarily such a tribunal. The Mexican
commissioners, however, had been ordered to act, not freely according to
the evidence, but according to the instructions of their government; and
moreover they promptly refused to let the claimants present themselves
either in person, by attorney or in writing. Some four months were
spent in discussing objections raised by them, and finally, in order to
get something done, the American representatives found it necessary to
give way. Yet the sailing was not smooth even then. Castillo and León
resorted not only to dilatory tactics and unfair methods, but even to
express falsehood; and their government violated in a signal manner one
of the most fundamental stipulations of the treaty. In short, if we may
believe the apparently fair statement of the American commissioners,
the Mexicans caused delays that prevented the adjustment of claims
amounting to more than five millions, and pursued a course in general
that excited great indignation throughout this country. Meanwhile, as
our philo-Mexican minister, Thompson, reported, "The rights of American
Citizens of every grade and character" were still subjected to "constant
outrage."[3.39]
[MEXICAN EVASIONS]
In spite of everything, however, some two millions--in 1841 a
substantial amount--were awarded, and at once Mexico set at work to
devise a scheme for evading the obligation. Urgent advice from the
British minister discouraged this plan, however; and finally a new
convention was made in January, 1843, expressly for the convenience of
our debtor, by which the amount with interest was to be paid within five
years, counted from the following April, in equal quarterly instalments
of cash. "Such indulgent terms," was Pakenham's description of the
arrangement. Both governments ratified it; and so after these many years
of patience and effort on the one side, evasion and sometimes dishonesty
on the other, compensation for a portion of our grievances began to be
received. But--after all, Mexico paid only three instalments. At that
point she broke her word, and stopped.[3.40]
For her course in this matter there seem to be only two conceivable
excuses; her embarrassed condition and her irritation over the Texas
affair. With reference to these it must be said that her condition was
itself inexcusable, and at the utmost did not incapacitate her for doing
all that we demanded; while her irritation was essentially unfounded,
and, even had it been reasonable, would not have justified her making
promises and agreements only to break them, or resorting in other ways
to dishonorable methods.[3.41]
IV
THE RELATIONS BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES
AND MEXICO
1843-1846