The War with Mexico, Volume 1 (of 2)

by Justin Harvey Smith

THE CHURCH

The only church legally tolerated was that of Rome; and this, as the unchallenged authority in the school and the pulpit, the keeper of confessional secrets and family skeletons, and the sole dispenser of organized charity, long wielded a tremendous power. The clerical fuero, which exempted all ecclesiastics from the jurisdiction of the civil courts, reinforced it, and the wealth and financial connections of the Church did the same. In certain respects, however, the strength of the organization began to diminish early in the nineteenth century; and in particular the Inquisition was abolished in Mexico, as it was in Spain. Soon after the colony became independent, a disposition to bar ecclesiastics from legislative bodies, to philosophize on religious matters and to view Protestants with some toleration manifested itself. Ten years more, and the urgent need of public schools led to certain steps, as we shall see, toward secular education. Political commotions, the exactions of powerful civil authorities under the name of loans, and various other circumstances cut into the wealth of the Church; and the practical impossibility of selling the numberless estates upon which it had mortgages or finding good reinvestments in the case of sales, compelled it, as the country became less and less prosperous, to put up with delays and losses of interest.[5]

Moreover the Church was to no slight extent a house divided against itself. Under Spanish rule and substantially down to 1848, all the high dignities fell to Gachupines, who naturally faced toward Spain, whereas the parish priests were mainly Creoles with Mexican sympathies; and while the bishops and other managers had the incomes of princes, nearly all of the monks and ordinary priests lived in poverty. There was, therefore, but little in common between the two ranks except the bare fact of being churchmen, which was largely cancelled on the one side by contempt and on the other side by envy; and the common priests, having generally sided against Spain during the revolution and always been closely in touch with the people, exercised, in spite of their pecuniary exactions, an influence that largely balanced the authority of their heads. Finally, the ignorance of most ecclesiastics and the immorality of nearly all greatly diminished their moral force. A large number, even among the higher clergy, were unable to read the mass; and the monks, who in the early days of the colony had rendered good service as missionaries, were now recruited—wrote an American minister—from “the very dregs of the people,” and constituted a public scandal.[5]

Still, the Church wielded immense power as late as 1845, and this was reinforced by the type of religion that it offered. High and low alike, the Mexicans, with some exceptions, lived in the senses, differing mainly in the refinement of the gratifications they sought; and the priests offered them a sensuous worship. Sometimes, almost crazed by superstitious fears, men would put out the lights in some church, strip themselves naked, and ply the scourge till every blow fell with a splash. It was pleasanter, however, and usually edifying enough, to kneel at the mass, gaze upon the extraordinary display of gold and silver, gorgeous vestments, costly images and elaborately carved and gilded woodwork, follow the smoke of the incense rolling upward from golden censers, listen to sonorous incantations called prayers, and confess to some fat priest well qualified to sympathize with every earthy desire. A man who played this game according to the rule was good and safe. A brigand counting the chances of a fray could touch his scapularies with pious confidence, and the intending murderer solicit a benediction on his knife. Enlightened Catholics as well as enlightened non-Catholics deplored the state of religion in Mexico.[5]

Next after the Church came the “army,” which meant a social order, a body of professional military men—that is to say, officers–exempted by their fuero from the jurisdiction of the civil law and almost exclusively devoted to the traditions, principles and interests of their particular group. As the Church held the invisible power, the army held the visible; and whenever the bells ceased to ring, the roll of the drum could be heard. Every President and almost every other high official down to the close of our Mexican war was a soldier, and sympathized with his class; and as almost every family of any importance included members of the organization, its peculiar interests had a strong social backing. By force of numbers, too, this body was influential, for at one time, when the army contained scarcely 20,000 soldiers, it had 24,000 officers; and so powerful became the group that in 1845, when the real net revenue of the government did not exceed $12,000,000, its appropriation was more than $21,000,000.[5]

Under Spanish rule, although the army enjoyed great privileges, it had been kept in strict subordination, and usefully employed on the frontiers; but independence changed the situation. Apparently the revolution was effected by the military men, and they not merely claimed but commonly received the full credit. Not only did a large number of unfit persons, who pretended to have commanded men during the struggle, win commissions, but wholesale promotions were made in order to gain the favor of the officers; and in these ways the organization was both demoralized and strengthened. Over and over again military men learned to forswear their allegiance, and at one time the government actually set before the army, as a standard of merit, success in inducing soldiers of the opposite party to change sides.[5]

THE ARMY

In the course of political commotions, to be reviewed in the next chapter, the armed forces were more and more stationed at the cities, where they lost discipline and became the agents of political schemers; and naturally, when the government admitted their right to take part as organized bodies in political affairs, the barracks came to supersede the legislative halls, bullets took the place of arguments, and the military men, becoming the arbiters on disputed points, regarded themselves as supreme. Moreover, every administration felt it must have the support of this organization, and, not being able to dominate it, had to be dominated by it. Political trickery could therefore bring the officer far greater rewards than professional merit, and success in a revolt not only wiped away all stains of insubordination, cowardice and embezzlement, but ensured promotion. A second lieutenant who figured in six affairs of that sort became almost necessarily a general, and frequently civilians who rendered base but valuable services on such occasions were given high army rank. No doubt some risk was involved, but it was really the nation as a whole that paid the penalties; and anyhow one could be bold for a day far more easily than be courageous, patient, studious, honest and loyal for a lifetime. All true military standards were thus turned bottom-side up, and some of the worst crimes a soldier can perpetrate became in Mexico the brightest of distinctions.[5]

Of course the discovery that rank and pay did not depend upon deserving them set every corrupt officer at work to get advanced, while it drove from the service, or at least discouraged, the few men of talents and honor; and as all subordination ceased, a general not only preferred officers willing to further his dishonorable interests, but actually dreaded to have strong and able men serve in his command. In 1823 the Mexican minister of war reported to Congress, “Almost the whole army must be replaced, for it has contracted vices that will not be removed radically in any other way,” and four years later a militia system was theoretically established with a view to that end; but the old organization continued to flourish, and in April, 1846, the British minister said, “The Officers ... are, as a Corps, the worst perhaps to be found in any part of the world. They are totally ignorant of their duty, ... and their personal courage, I fear, is of a very negative character.”[5]

In 1838, a German visitor stated there were a hundred and sixty generals for an army of thirty thousand, and this was perhaps a fair estimate of the usual proportion; but out of all these, every one of whom could issue a glowing proclamation, probably not a single “Excellency” could properly handle a small division, while few out of thousands of colonels could lead a regiment on the field, and some were not qualified to command a patrol. A battle was almost always a mob fight ending in a cavalry charge; and Waddy Thompson, an American minister to Mexico, said he did not believe a manoeuvre in the face of the enemy was ever attempted. Naturally the general administration of military affairs became a chaos; and, worst of all, a self-respecting general thought it almost a disgrace to obey an order—even an order from the President.[5]