His private correspondence contained the harshest opinions regarding nearly all of the chief men thus far prominent in the war. Of Commodore Perry he entertained “a contemptable opinion.” Shields, who was a good man and officer as men and officers went, he described as “without one particle of principle to restrain him, save the laws of his country and ready to minister body and soul to the vilest passions of a vile administration.” Quitman, who deserved high respect, appeared to him unreliable, of mediocre ability and “afflicted with unbounded vanity.” The quartermaster general, he said, was partially deranged. Of Scott he had written in August, “He means well on all occasions,” but now he was able to view his superior officer as a military “humbug” and low politician, eager to advance himself and ruin others by the most nefarious arts; and he could no longer see, what the administration fully recognized, that it was essentially for its advantage to have the generals win victories. So far as the government was concerned, Taylor had some grounds for apprehension, perhaps. In all probability it entertained by this time unfriendly feelings toward him. The veteran F. P. Blair had warned Marcy distinctly that, as even the novice could see, a Democratic administration was waging war to make a Whig President, and under our system it was legitimate as well as natural to look for an avenue of escape. Scott, however, seems to have been his friend, privately exerting a strong influence in his favor on several occasions; and while the lawful rights of superior rank were made use of by the commander-in-chief, the same thing was done by Taylor himself with far less considerateness.[9]

Finally Taylor had a particular moral disability, for he did not believe in the Vera Cruz expedition actually contemplated. The season of yellow fever—in his opinion a worse enemy than 100,000 Mexican bayonets—was now too near, he wrote, and an army besieging that port would be swept away by the pestilence.[7] He lacked, therefore, some of the most necessary qualifications, and was not in a state of mind to work harmoniously and effectively with the administration, the commander-in-chief or his own principal subordinates in the exceedingly difficult and delicate situations which the proposed expedition was liable to create.[9]

A COMMANDER SELECTED

Gaines being out of the question, there was but one man left, and he moreover, as an officer of experience and the head of the army, possessed exceptional claims to the appointment. Scott seems to have accepted his professional and political reverses of May very quietly, illustrating that fine aphorism of King Stanislaus, “A man greater than his misfortunes shows that he does not deserve them.” Friends fell away rapidly, yet he kept up his courage. To one of them indeed he wrote, “Perhaps you might do well to imitate the example of that heathen who touched his hat to the fallen statue of Jupiter—saying, ‘Who knows but he may be replaced upon his pedestal?’” and about the middle of September, having learned through several channels that his presence in Mexico had been desired by Taylor, to whom he generously referred as “that gallant and distinguished commander,” he reminded the government that he was ready still to serve at the front.[8] This merely brought him another curt rebuff; but when the Vera Cruz expedition became a practical question he took part in the discussion without pique, and he suggested incidentally that he, as the highest officer in the service, was the proper individual to divide the troops between the two fields of activity, and to command personally in the more important one.[9]

Taylor having pronounced it Scott’s duty after the battles of May to assume the leadership in the field, could not logically object now to his acting according to his rank; but, though time had vindicated Scott’s military policy and he now was viewed—Marcy admitted—as politically harmless, Polk still deemed him scientific and visionary, and still resented his allusion to fire from the rear. Long discussions were held, but Marcy felt satisfied that Scott was the only fit commander in sight. By rather cunning management he brought Senator Benton to that opinion; others of the Cabinet reached the same conclusion; and finally the President admitted with “reluctance” that such was “the only alternative.” Very likely, too, as many believed, Polk saw a chance to play one Whig leader against the other. Anyhow, after demanding “Scott’s confidence,” which—in view of the intention to grant his dearest wish—Scott easily gave, he appointed him on the eighteenth of November to command the expedition. An apparently heartfelt and complete reconciliation followed. Scott almost shed tears of emotion, recorded the President; and he received assurances in turn that his confidence would be reciprocated, and that bygones were to be considered bygones. A new David and a new Jonathan seemed to have discovered each other.[9]

SCOTT’S VIEWS

Scott believed that Ulúa, if properly garrisoned, could not be taken with naval batteries, or even with naval batteries and an escalade, except at a disproportionate sacrifice of life, and a loss of time that might subject the troops to the yellow fever, quadruple the waste of men, and ruin the campaign. He therefore planned to make a landing near Vera Cruz, capture the town, reduce the fortress—unless, as appeared quite probable, it could soon be starved out—by naval operations and land attacks based upon the city, and then escape the pestilence by advancing promptly toward the capital. In his opinion the Mexicans were likely to have 20–30,000 troops on the ground, and therefore he thought 15,000 men desirable. Relying necessarily on the figures of the adjutant general, he reckoned (November 16) that 7000 regulars and 13,500 volunteers were, or soon would be, under Taylor’s command, making with the new volunteers and recruits for the regular army over 27,000,[10] and he therefore proposed (November 21) to take about 5000 of these regulars, 6000 of the volunteers, and the first 4000 of the new regiments. But he deemed 10,000—to be increased later to double that number—an adequate minimum, and he felt willing, for the sake of gaining time, to launch the campaign with the first 8000 soldiers that could be set afloat off Brazos Island. Anticipating a stubborn resistance at the point of disembarkation, he desired to have 140 surf-boats in order to land 5000 men and eight guns at once, and he made ample requisitions for transports, ordnance and ordnance stores.[11] As for Taylor, the General proposed that he should retain forces enough to defend Monterey and his communications,[12] and stand for a time on the defensive.[16]

Scott of course desired official instructions of this tenor, and even drafted them, but Marcy only wrote as follows (November 23): You have been ordered by the President himself to go to Mexico, take command there, and set on foot a Gulf expedition, “if on arriving at the theatre of action you shall deem it to be practicable. It is not proposed to control your operations by definite and positive instructions, but you are left to prosecute them as your judgment, under a full view of all the circumstances, shall dictate. The work is before you, and the means provided, or to be provided, for accomplishing it, are committed to you, in the full confidence that you will use them to the best advantage. The objects which it is desirable to obtain have been indicated, and it is hoped that you will have the requisite force to accomplish them. Of this you must be the judge when the preparations are made, and the time for action has arrived.”[16]

Marcy seldom laughed, but occasionally he shook like a bowlful of jelly, and as he signed this letter he must have shaken prodigiously. Assuming no responsibility, making no promises, the government simply unloaded the whole burden of the expedition upon Scott.[13] Should he succeed, a Democratic administration would reap a great profit; should he fail, a Whig general would have to bear a great reproach. In order to obtain the essential troops it would be necessary for him to incur the odium of taking many of them from Taylor, who in Polk’s opinion was not willing to give them up; and thus not only would Taylor’s rising star become clouded, but a bitter quarrel between these two Whig leaders and their friends would almost certainly be precipitated. Besides, Taylor might throw up his command in a fit of temper, and relegate himself to obscurity. No wonder the President felt remarkably in spirits just after this.[16]

TAYLOR’S WINTER OPERATIONS