GENERAL VIEW OF MEXICO, PAST AND PRESENT. SKETCH OF THE CAREER OF SANTA ANNA.
Ancient Mexico.—Its extent.—Its capital.—Its government.—Its sovereigns.—The last of a series of American Monarchies.—Some evidences of this.—Great antiquity of some of the ruins.—Population of Mexico.—Its government as a colony.—The Revolution.—Its leaders.—Iturbide.—Distracted state of the country.—Santa Anna.—His public career.—Pedraza.—Guerrero.—Barradas at Tampico.—Defeated by Santa Anna.—Bustamente.—Pedraza again.—Santa Anna made President.—Revolt of Texas and Yucatan.—Battle of San Jacinto.—Santa Anna a prisoner.—Released, returns in disgrace.—Out again.—Loses a leg.—Dictator.—President.—Put down by Paredes.—Banished.—Probable result.—The Press.—Departure for home.
Hanging Judas Iscariot in effigy, eighteen centuries after he had hung himself in despair for his treachery, and raising a monumental tablet to Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, seemed to me to be somewhat incongruous amusements. But these Mexicans will have their way, however strange it may be. Leaving them to choose for themselves, in these matters, I propose, before taking leave of Tampico, to give a brief sketch of the history and present condition of Mexico, and of the career of the singular man, who has acted so prominent a part in the revolutions which have recently convulsed that unhappy country.
The ancient Mexico was comprised within much narrower limits, than those which now bound the Republic. Yet, owing to the remarkable formation of the country, beginning with its low plains, and tropical valleys along the sea board, and gradually ascending, plateau above plateau, into the region of perpetual winter, it embraced every variety of climate, and yielded almost every production, that was known on the face of the earth.
In the midst of one of the most beautiful and luxuriant plateaus, situated midway between the Atlantic and the Pacific, and measuring a little more than two hundred miles in circumference, with lofty, snow-crowned walls on every side, stood the Queen City, Tenochtitlan, now called Mexico, the metropolis of the Aztec empire, the seat of civilization, of art, of luxury, of refinement—"the Venice of the Western world." It was founded in the early part of the fourteenth century, and soon became the seat of a flourishing empire, and the central point of power to a triad of nations. Mexico, Tezcuco, and Tlacopan, bound together by a league of perpetual amity, which was faithfully maintained and preserved through a long period of unexampled warfare, subdued to their united sway, all the neighboring tribes and nations of Anahuac. In process of time, the power and influence of Mexico overtopped that of its confederates, and Tezcuco and Tlacopan became little better than tributaries to the central empire of the Montezumas.
The government of this ancient empire was an absolute monarchy, and was maintained in a style of truly Oriental pomp and magnificence. Their monarch supported his state with all the proud dignity, and stately ceremonial of the most refined courts of the old world. His attendants were princes, who waited on him with the most obsequious deference. The form of presentation was much the same as now prevails in the royal saloons of Europe, the subject never presuming to turn his back upon the throne, but carefully stepping backward to the door, in retiring from the royal presence. Whether this circumstance is sufficient to prove that Europe was peopled from Mexico—an opinion gravely put forth, and sturdily maintained, by at least one old writer—I shall not now stop to inquire.
The body-guard of the sovereign was composed of the chief nobles of the realm, who, like the great feudal lords of Europe, held sway over extensive estates of their own, and could call into the field, at any moment, an immense army of subject retainers. The royal palaces were extensive and magnificent, and comprised apartments, not only for the private accommodation of the royal household, but for all the great purposes of the state—halls of council, treasuries for the public revenue, etc. etc. Mexico was indeed a city of palaces, interspersed with temples and pyramids, rivalling in splendor and luxury, as well as in extent, many of the proudest capitals of the Old World.
This splendid monarchy, which was probably at the very acme of its glory, when discovered and overturned by the remorseless invaders from Spain, was the last of a series of powerful and highly refined dynasties, that had successively flourished and passed away, in the beautiful regions of Central America. Two mighty oceans on the east and west, two mighty continents on the north and south, and embracing, in the singular arrangement of its slopes and levels, all the climates and productions of both and of all, it seems to have been, for ages, we know not how far back, the theatre of all the art, the seat of all the power, the centre of all the refinement and luxury, of the western hemisphere. There are some remarkable works of art, and wonderful traces of ancient civilization in South America, as well as some singular remains of a once numerous and powerful people in the north. But the Isthmus was the Decapolis of Ancient America. "The tabernacles of its palaces were planted between the seas, in the glorious mountain." Here was its Babylon, its Nineveh, its Thebes, its Palmyra. And here, splendid in ruins, with no voice to tell of their ancient founders, or of the millions who once thronged their busy streets, they still remain, an instructive but painful lesson on the instability of human affairs, the brevity of a terrestrial immortality.
I have said that Mexico was the last of a series of splendid monarchies that had flourished, and passed away, in Central America. The evidences of the truth of this statement are too numerous, and too clear, to admit of a doubt. The ruins of extensive and magnificent cities, which abound on every side, like the sepulchres and monuments of the departed, are the melancholy memorials, which cannot be gainsayed, of the gigantic power and fruitful resources of the Past. Palenque, Copan, and many more in the south—Uxmal, Chi-chen, Ticul, Kabah, Mayapan, etc., in the central regions of Yucatan—Panuco, Cerro Chacuaco, and others without a name, in the north—these are but a part of the remains of ancient grandeur that lie buried under the soil, and hidden in the almost impervious forests of this luxuriant clime. Their name is legion. Some of them were deserted and in ruins at the period of the Spanish Conquest, and are occasionally spoken of by the historians of that day with wonder and amazement. Some were evidently occupied by other races than the builders, inferior in taste and refinement, if not in physical power; and some, though not then in utter ruins, were, as at the present day, waste and without inhabitant,—
Desolate, like the dwellings of Moina,—
The fox looked out of the window,
The rank grass waved round its head.
In the remains of these ruined cities, there are not only the evidences derived from their different degrees of dilapidation and decay, to prove that they originated in different and far distant ages, but others which show them to be the works of distinct races of people. The plan and architecture of the buildings, the style and finish of the ornamental parts, the forms and features of the sculptured heads, differ as widely as those of Egypt and Greece, and as clearly prove the workmanship of different periods, and different artists. Some writers have undertaken to trace in these ruins, evidences of three distinct ages of American civilization. Without entering into an argument on the subject, I would simply remark, that, whether three, or five, or more, no conclusion seems to my mind capable of a more perfect substantiation, than this, that these ruins extend far back into the remotest ages of antiquity, and form a continuous chain of connection between the earliest settlers in America, and the Toltecs and Aztecs, of whom we have something like authentic history. I go farther, and say that this chain is probably complete in its parts, though the links are separated, and cannot now be brought together again. They are all there, but so scattered and confounded together, that he who attempts to assign them a place and a date, or to build a theory upon their apparent relations to each other, will probably soon find himself "in wandering mazes lost," and rather amuse, than convince or instruct his readers.
These statements are, for the most part, drawn from the most reliable sources, and confirmed, as far as I have had opportunity, by my own observation. I shall take the liberty to regard them as facts. Intending to refer to them in the concluding chapter, and to draw from them some inferences in support of the opinions I have formed respecting the origin of the ancient American races, and the probable epoch of the ruins I have had the pleasure to explore, I shall make no further comment upon them here; but proceed to a brief epitome of the present condition of the empire of the Montezumas.
The population of Mexico is as mixed and various as that of any other portion of the globe. It includes, at least, seven distinct races. First, the Europeans, or foreign residents, called Chapetones, or Gapuchins. Secondly, Creoles, or native whites of European extraction. Thirdly, the Mestizoes, the offspring of whites and Indians. Fourthly, Mulattoes, the offspring of whites and blacks. Fifthly, the Aboriginal Indians. Sixthly, Negroes. Seventhly, Zamboes, or Chinoes, the offspring of negroes and Indians. There is also a sprinkling of Chinese and Malays, and natives of the Canaries, who rank as whites, and are known by the general name of Islenos, or Islanders.
While Mexico remained a colony of Spain, from the conquest in 1519, till the Revolution in 1810, all the power and influence, and nearly all the wealth, was confined to the first class. The revolution transferred it to the second, and expatriated the first. And this was almost its only result; for it does not seem to have been attended with any of the ordinary blessings of freedom to the common people, either in lightening their burdens, or elevating their moral condition.
The government of the colony was that of a Viceroy, the proud servant of a proud master in Spain, and amenable only to him for his acts. The people had no voice either of council or remonstrance. It was passive submission to absolute power. Whether that power became more severe and oppressive, in the early part of the present century, than it had been, or whether the increased numbers, wealth and ambition of the Creoles induced a desire to take the power into their own hands, or whether it was the mere contagion of rebellion and independence, diffusing itself over a continent reserved as "the area of Freedom," and separated by wide oceans from the despotisms of the Old World, it is not easy now to decide. The struggle was long and severe. Monarchy held on to the golden mountains of Mexico with a desperate though feeble grasp. Independence was declared, by the congress of Mexico, in 1813, but it was not finally and fully achieved until 1829, when the Spanish residents were expelled from the country.
The contest for independence, as is usually the case, brought out the patriotism, talent and genius of the native population. Several of the leaders distinguished themselves in the eyes of the world. Among the most prominent were Guerrero, Hidalgo, Moreles and Victoria.
In 1820, the Viceroy, who was still struggling to support the tottering throne, commissioned General Iturbide, who had been successful in several engagements with the Creoles, to reduce them to submission. Iturbide was born to be a traitor. No sooner was the army placed at his control, than he betrayed his trust, joined the cause of the revolutionists, and proclaimed Mexico independent. This was in 1821. A congress assembled in 1822, to form a constitution. But Iturbide, traitor to the cause he had just adopted, caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor, under the title of Augustin the First. Opposed by a powerful and resolute party, rendered desperate by their success hitherto, this self-constituted Emperor was compelled to abdicate in the course of a year, and retire to Europe, the proper theatre for legitimate tyrants. Returning to Mexico in 1824, with a view, as was supposed, to avail himself of the distractions of the country, to assert anew his claims to the imperial dignity, he was seized and shot, as soon as he had landed.
From the first outbreak of the Revolution to the present time, Mexico has been torn and distracted with internal wars. The long struggle for Independence, was succeeded, as soon as that end was achieved, by other and more bitter struggles for personal or party ascendency. A constitution was adopted in 1823. The government established by it, is a confederated Republic, modelled in most respects, after that of the United States—a government exactly suited to make an intelligent and virtuous people happy, but not adapted to a community composed of restless, unprincipled, ambitious factionists, on the one hand, and an ignorant, bigoted rabble, on the other. Faction after faction has arisen, plan after plan has been proposed, adopted, and instantly discarded for another, till it has become as difficult to say what is, or has been at any particular period, the actual government of Mexico, as to predict what it will be to-morrow. If the intelligence of the people had been such as to justify the comparison,—if there had been more real patriotism, more sincere love of liberty among the principal actors in these bloody dramas, one might say, that the Florentine Histories of the middle ages had been re-enacted in Mexico. How different the struggle, both in its manner and in its results, in our own blessed land. But let us not triumph over our less favored and weaker neighbors. Let us rather devoutly thank heaven that our fathers loved liberty more than power, and laid broad and deep the foundations of intelligence, virtue and religion,—not superstition, and a bigoted devotion to forms, or a blind submission to ecclesiastical authority, but the religion which recognizes God as supreme, and all men as equal,—on which to raise the glorious superstructure of rational freedom. Let us see to it, that, while we enlarge the superstructure, we do not neglect the foundations.
It was during the temporary ascendency of Iturbide, that Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, now more notorious than illustrious, became a conspicuous actor on this turbulent stage. He was a native of the department of Vera Cruz. Here, without enjoying any adventitious advantages of birth or family, he succeeded, by his talents and industry, in securing great local influence, and gradually rose to wealth and power. Except Bolivar, there is, perhaps, no one among the many distinguished agitators of Spanish America, whose career has been signalized by so many extraordinary vicissitudes of good and evil fortune, or who has rilled so large a space in the eye of the world, as Santa Anna.
On the promulgation by Iturbide of the plan of Iguala, (February 24, 1821,) Santa Anna, at the head of the irregular forces of the neighborhood, succeeded by a coup de main, in driving the Spaniards out of Vera Cruz, of which he was immediately appointed governor. The Spaniards, however, still held the castle of San Juan de Ulloa, from which they were not for a long time dislodged; and, of course, Santa Anna's position was one of great importance.
Meanwhile, differences arose between Santa Anna and the Emperor Augustin, who had come down to Jalapa to direct the operations against the Spaniards. Santa Anna repaired to Jalapa to confer with Iturbide; and, being treated harshly, and deprived of his command, immediately left Jalapa, hurried back to Vera Cruz, in anticipation of the intelligence of his disgrace, raised the standard of revolt, and, by means of his personal authority with the troops of the garrison, commenced hostilities with the Emperor. Thereupon Guadalupe Victoria, whose name was endeared to the Mexicans by his previous unsuccessful efforts in the revolution, and who was living concealed in the mountains, emerged from his hiding place, called around him his old republican companions in arms, expelled Iturbide, and established the Mexican republic with a federal constitution, in imitation of that of the United States.
Santa Anna, who, by first taking up arms, had contributed so largely to this result, thinking himself not duly considered in the new arrangements, sailed from Vera Cruz with a small force March 1823, and landing at Tampico, advanced through the country to San Luis Potosi, assuming to be protector of the new republic. But not possessing influence enough to maintain himself in this attitude, he was compelled to submit to the government, and to remain for several years in retirement at Manga de Clavo.
The termination of Victoria's presidency, however, in 1828, enabled Santa Anna to re-appear on the stage. Pedraza had been regularly elected President; on hearing of which, Santa Anna rose in arms, and by a rapid march, seized upon and intrenched himself in the castle of Perote. Here he published a plan, the basis of which was to annul the election of Pedraza, and confer the presidency on Guerrero. But, being successfully attacked here by the government forces, he was compelled to flee, and took refuge in the mountains of Oajaca, to all appearance an outlaw and a ruined man. The signal of revolution, however, which he had given at Perote, was followed up with more success in other parts of the country.
Pedraza was at length driven into exile, Guerrero was declared President in his place, and Santa Anna was appointed to the command of the very army sent against him, and to the government of Vera Cruz, and after the inauguration of Guerrero, April 1829, he became Secretary of War.
While these events were in progress, the Spanish government was organizing its last invasion of Mexico. Barradas, the commander of the Spanish forces, landing at Tampico, July 27, 1829. Santa Anna was entrusted with the command of the Mexican troops, and at length compelled the Spaniards to capitulate, September 11, 1829, which put an end to the war of independence.
Guerrero had been in office but a few months, when another revolution broke out. The Vice-President, Bustamente, gathered a force at Jalapa, and pronounced against Guerrero, December 1829, who was at length taken prisoner, and executed for treason; Bustamente assuming the presidency.
Santa Anna, after feebly resisting, had at length joined, or at least acquiesced in, the movement of Bustamente; and remained in retirement for two or three years, until, in 1832, he on a sudden pronounced against the government, compelled Bustamente to flee, and brought back Pedraza from exile, to serve out the remaining three months of the term for which he had been elected to the presidency.
In the progress of events, Santa Anna had now acquired sufficient importance to desist from the function of President maker, and to become himself President. This took place in May, 1833. His presidency was filled with pronunciamentos and civil wars, which produced the consummation of the overthrow of the federal constitution of 1824, and the adoption, in 1836, of a central constitution.
Though most of the Mexican States acquiesced in the violent changes, by which they were reduced to mere departments, under the control of military commandants, Texas on the northeast, and Yucatan on the south-east, refused to submit to the military dominion of whatever faction of the army might happen to hold power in the city of Mexico: and Santa Anna at length took command in person of the army organized for the reduction of Texas. The battle of San Jacinto, the capture of Santa Anna, his release by Houston on conditions, which he afterwards refused to fulfil, his visit to this country, and his subsequent return to Mexico, are events familiarly known in the United States.
When Santa Anna marched on Texas, first Barragan, and then Coro, exercised the functions of the presidency for a while, until, under the new constitution, Bustamente, having returned from exile, was elected President; the temporary unpopularity of Santa Anna, and his retirement in disgrace to Manga de Clavo, having left the field open to the friends of Bustamente.
Sundry pronunciamentos followed; of which, one of the most dangerous, headed by Mejia, gave to Santa Anna the opportunity of emerging from his retirement. He vanquished Mejia, and caused him to be shot on the field of battle. This exploit gave to Santa Anna a new start in public affairs; so that when the French Government, in 1838, resolved to punish Mexico for its multiplied aggressions on the subjects of France in Mexico, and proceeded to attack Vera Cruz, the command of the Mexican troops were committed to Santa Anna. On this occasion he received a wound, which rendered the amputation of one of his legs necessary; and his services, at this time, seemed to have effaced, in the eyes of the Mexicans, the disgrace of his defeat at San Jacinto.
Santa Anna took no part in the unsuccessful movement of Urrea against Bustamente, in 1840; but in 1841, there broke out a revolution, commenced by Paredes, at Guadalajara, into which Santa Anna threw himself with so much vigor and zeal, that Bustamente was again compelled to flee, and the plan of Tacubaya, with the agreement of La Estanzuela, was adopted; in virtue of which, the constitution of 1836 was abolished, and Santa Anna himself was invested with the powers of dictator, for the purpose of re-constituting the republic.
Under these auspices, and amid all the calamities of a protracted but unsuccessful attempt to reduce Yucatan to submission, (for Yucatan at length made its own terms,) a new constitution was adopted, June 13, 1843, entitled, "Basis of Political organization of the Mexican Republic," and Santa Anna was elected President.
Santa Anna resigned his dictatorship, and entered upon office as the new President, in January, 1844; but before the expiration of the year, Paredes again pronounced at Guadalajara, and this time against Santa Anna. The chief ostensible causes of this movement, were various administrative abuses committed by Santa Anna and his ministers, and especially an abortive attempt of his administration to raise money for an expedition against Texas. When the revolution broke out, Santa Anna was at Magna de Clavo, the presidency being provisionally held, during his absence from the capital, by Canalizo. Instantly, on hearing the tidings of the movement at Guadalajara, Santa Anna, in open violation of one of the articles of the new organic basis, was placed in command of the army, and rapidly traversed the republic, from Jalapa to Queretara, with all the forces he could raise, to encounter Paredes. But the departments which he had left behind him speedily revolted, not excepting even Vera Cruz; and though his faction in the capital, including Canalizo and the ministers, endeavored to sustain him by proclaiming him dictator, their efforts were vain. He was compelled to retrograde, and at length was routed, and obliged to surrender himself a captive to the new administration, headed by Herrera, which has released him with the penalty of ten years' exile.
Defeated, banished, and in disgrace with the world, it is still difficult to determine what will be the ultimate fate of this hero of half a score of revolutions. He is now, or, more properly speaking, he was when last heard from, living in luxurious retirement, on one of the most splendid estates in Cuba, a few miles from Havana. With immense wealth at his command, ambitious as ever of power, he is but waiting a favorable opportunity to thrust himself again into the quarrels of his ill-fated country. Money will accomplish any thing there, good or evil. And if, through any of his emissaries, he can once more gain access to the army, one year's income from his rich estates will buy them over to a new revolution, and the exiled dictator will once more place his wooden foot upon the necks of his conquerors, and of the people. This may be his position before the expiration of the present year. It may be, before the ink is dry which records the peradventure. It may be, at this very moment. "Nous verrons ce que nous verrons."
Of literature, properly speaking, there is none in Mexico. There are a few scholars and learned men, in the church and at the bar. But their presence is not felt, their weight is not realized, in any estimate we attempt to make of the national character.
Veytia, a native of Puebla, who flourished about the middle of the last century, has done much to illustrate the early history of the nations of Anahuac; tracing out, with great patience and fidelity, the various migrations of its principal races, and throwing much light on their history and works. He was an industrious able critic, and though but little known, deserves the highest credit for his valuable contributions to ancient American literature.
Clavigero, a native of Vera Cruz, a voluminous and elaborate writer on the same subject, whose works are well known and highly approved, has rectified many of the inaccuracies of foreign writers, and done much to concentrate the scattered rays of native tradition, and give form and substance to previous antiquarian researches.
Antonio Gama, a native of Mexico, and a lawyer, was a ripe scholar, distinguished for patient investigation, severe accuracy, and an impartial desire to arrive at the truth, without reference to a preconceived opinion or theory. He was a thorough master of some of the native languages, and, to an extent as great as the nature of the case admitted, of the native traditions and hieroglyphics. These, together with their systems of arithmetic, astronomy and chronology, he has illustrated with uncommon acuteness and ability. His works are but little known, but of great value to those who would follow a safe guide amid the labyrinths of antiquarian lore.
Other worthy names might be added to these. But let these suffice to show that there is nothing in the climate unfavorable to letters. It is a rich, a glorious field; but, trampled by tyranny, or convulsed with revolutions and civil wars, there has scarcely been a moment, during the present century, when the scholar, however much disposed to retirement, could close the door of his study, and feel himself secure from interruption. It is hardly fair, therefore, to measure the literary capacity of Mexico, by its present fruits, or to judge of her scholars by the issues of the Press in such turbulent times.
There are but few newspapers in the country, and these are not conducted with the most consummate ability. The bombastic, bragadocio style, with which they are often inflated, if it be not intended for carricature, might almost vie with Baron Munchausen's happiest specimens of that kind of composition. The comments of the government organ, published at the capital, are often extremely bitter upon every thing which relates to the United States. In some remarks respecting the monument commemorating the battle of Bunker Hill, the editor observes,—"The people of Boston make much ado about its completion"—and then adds,—"if Mexico should raise monuments for all such trivial occurrences in her history, the whole country would be filled with them." A little farther on, speaking of the Peninsular War, he says,—"they may do—but Wellington never yet knew what it was to face a breast-work of Mexican bayonets."!!! Alas! for Wellington, and the glory of British arms! What was Waterloo to San Jacinto!
On preparing to leave Tampico, I experienced considerable difficulty, and no small expense in procuring the necessary passports. Stamps, for permits of baggage, were required. My baggage had to undergo a very annoying examination, with a view to the discovery of specie that might be concealed therewith, which pays an export duty of six per cent. To such a provoking extent is this examination carried, that the insolent officers thrust their hands, like Arabs, into the bottoms of your pockets, in pursuit of your small loose change.
I took passage in the Mexican schooner Belle Isabel, for New Orleans, in company with twenty other passengers. We embarked in the river, and, though hoping for a short passage, it was with sensations of discomfort, amounting almost to consternation, that I ascertained, after every thing was on board, that water and provisions had been laid in, sufficient only for a passage of forty-eight hours. After protesting to the American Consul, and lodging my complaint with the Captain of the port, against the villainous purpose of the master and consignee of the vessel, to put us upon allowance, and experiencing much delay, some further supplies were sent on board. We remained in the river some time, being unable to pass the bar, in consequence of the shallowness of the water in the channel. The annoyances experienced from the vermin, with which the vessel abounded, and the motley character of the passengers, made up of negroes, mulattoes, and Mexicans, rendered my position quite intolerable; and even sickness, which filled up the measure of my troubles, was a not unwelcome excuse for parting with such disagreeable associates.
This affords me a favorable opportunity, and I embrace it with heartfelt pleasure, of paying, in part, a debt of gratitude to Captain Chase, the American Consul at Tampico, and his accomplished and kind-hearted lady, who, during a severe and protracted illness, attended me with a kindness that will not soon be forgotten. The tender and patient attentions, which they bestowed upon a sick countryman, in a strange land, were such as might have been expected from a brother and sister, and were rendered doubly valuable to the recipient, by the full hearted cheerfulness and benevolence which characterized them. God bless them both! May they never want a friend and comforter in any of the trials that may fall to their lot.
More fortunate in my next attempt to leave Tampico, I secured a passage in the Pilot Boat Virginia, and, after a short and agreeable voyage, arrived at the Crescent City on the 8th of June, satisfied, for the present, with my adventures, and glad to greet the kind faces of familiar friends, and share the comforts which can only be found at home.
At home! yes, here I am once more, in my own quiet home, having performed three voyages by sea, embracing a distance of some two thousand miles, besides sundry rambles and pilgrimages in the interior, and all this, with only two "hair-breadth 'scapes by field or flood"—scarcely enough, I fear, to spice my narrative to the taste of the age.