CHAPTER II.
Origin of the war considered—True objects of contemporaneous history—Motives for war—No single act caused it—Difference between war and hostilities—Mexican revolution—Federalism and Centralism—Operation of the Constitution of 1824—History of our commercial and diplomatic relations—Bad conduct of Mexico in regard to our claims, compared with that of other nations—Commission—Award of umpire—Subsequent course of Mexico—History of the seizure and surrender of Monterey, on the Pacific, by Commodore Jones in 1842—Secretary Upshur's censure of his conduct—Ill feeling in Mexico towards the United States in consequence of this seizure.
An artist in portraying a face or delineating a landscape, does not imprint upon his canvass, each line and wrinkle, each blade of grass or mossy stone, yet a spectator recognizes in the complete painting, those broad characteristics of truth which establish a limner's fidelity. So it is with the historian. Whilst seeking for accuracy in all his details, he aims, chiefly, at exactness in his ruling principles and general effect, but he leaves the minute inelegances and tasteless incidents to those whose critical fervor delights in detecting them.
It is not alone in the detail of facts that the historian is liable to incur censure, especially when he writes a contemporaneous narrative. It is almost impossible to suppose that he will divest himself so completely of party feeling, as to compose an unprejudiced work. Some critics have even declared that a historian should possess neither religion nor country, and would thus force us to believe it utterly impossible to be impartial unless an author were an infidel or a cosmopolite.
The age is so characterized by political rancor and so little by true statesmanship, that it is not surprising to hear such opinions even from experienced and patient scholars. Yet I have always thought that a writer who undertakes the task of delineating national annals in no sectarian spirit but with broad and Christian tolerance,—honestly seeking to do justice in politics and religion to all,—may so far separate himself from the strifes of the day as to pronounce opinions as honest, though perhaps not as learned, as those that issue from the bench.
There is, too, a great advantage which should not escape our notice in recording contemporaneous history and fixing permanently the facts of the time as they occur. He who describes events or periods long since past, is forced to throw himself back, if possible, into the scenes of which he writes, whilst he remains free from sympathy with their factions and parties. But if a writer of the present day will place himself on the impartial ground of religious and political freedom, and make himself what Madame de Stael has so felicitously styled "contemporaneous posterity," I think he will be better able than those who come after us to narrate with vivid freshness the story of this sanguinary war.
The impression of public feeling both in Mexico and the United States is still distinct in our recollection; the political motives influencing or controlling both the great parties in our country, have not yet ceased to operate; and the errors that may innocently creep into a narrative may be corrected by intelligent men who took part in the war as soldiers or civilians. A history thus dispassionately written, must, it seems to me, have the truth and value of a portrait taken from life, rather than of a sketch made from memory whose coloring lacks all the freshness of vitality.
The very threshold of this history is embarrassed by the party controversies to which I have alluded. The origin of the war was attributed by the president and his adherents to the wrong doings of Mexico, whilst the opponents of the executive did not hesitate to charge its unnecessary inception and all its errors directly on the cabinet. Documents, messages, speeches, essays, and reviews, were published to sustain both sides of the question, and the whole subject was argued with so much ability and bitterness, so much zeal and apparent sincerity, that an impartial mind experiences extraordinary difficulty in detecting the actual offender. That grievances existed in the conduct of Mexico against us during a long series of years cannot be denied; but, it is equally true, that, between governments well administered and entirely reasonable on both sides, none of those provocations justified war. Yet, when offended power on one side, and passion on the other, become engaged in discussion, it requires but little to fan the smallest spark into a flame, and thus to kindle a conflagration, which the stoutest arms may fail to suppress. It frequently occurs in the affairs of ordinary life, that neighbors are the bitterest enemies. Men often dislike each other at their first interview, especially if they belong to families in which mutual prejudices have existed. They find it impossible to assign reasons for their aversion; nevertheless it exists in all its marvellous virulence. A slight disagreement as to limits between neighboring landholders, a paltry quarrel among servants, the malicious representation of innocent remarks, a thousand vain and trifling incidents, may effectually create a degree of ill feeling and cause them never to meet without scornful looks and quickened pulses. At length, this offensive temper is manifested in personal annoyance or insulting language, and blows are struck in the first encounter without pausing to debate the justice of an assault. It is with nations as it is with persons. The boasted discretion of statesmen, and the provident temper of politicians have, in all ages, failed to control the animosity of mankind; and we thus find as much littleness in the conduct of governments as in the petulance of men.