In 1843 our decisive difficulty with Mexico began to take shape. The annexation of Texas to the United States was on legal, moral and political grounds entirely legitimate. That republic had defied the arms of the mother-country for nine years. It was recognized as an independent nation by the leading commercial powers of the world; and no well-informed person, even in Mexico, dreamed that it would return to its former connection. To be sure, her pretensions were asserted in 1845 as loudly as ever; but she made them ridiculous by declaring that never, under any circumstances, would the independence of her rebellious daughter be conceded. Besides, Mexico had practically acquiesced in the recognition of Texas by our own and other governments; and, in view of this fact, as good a lawyer and statesman as Daniel Webster, though opposed to incorporating that country in the Union, held that our doing it gave Mexico no ground of complaint.[1]
TEXAS ANNEXED JUSTLY
Annexation was therefore permissible, and grave national interests of the United States appeared to demand the step. All northern Mexico, including California, seemed liable to secede, for the people of that whole region felt profoundly dissatisfied with the administration of their national affairs, and realized the urgent need of a strong and orderly government; there was reason to believe that Sam Houston, the President of Texas, thought of organizing under European auspices a southwestern empire, absorbing Oregon, and thus offsetting the United States; as A. J. Donelson, our minister in Texas at that period, wrote in 1848, “He was not mistaken. This he could have done”; and in that event we should have had a bold, ambitious rival in the rear. The anti-slavery agitation in the United States led many of our southern citizens to long for separation and a union with slaveholding Texas. The possibilities of Texan cotton production, stimulated by the English, who were eager to be independent of the American fields, were keenly dreaded. The logic of the situation seemed likely to render Texas not only a commercial and industrial competitor and a rancorous political enemy, but a source of dangerous complications with Mexico, England and France. Finally, the British, who possessed a powerful influence in her councils and in those of Mexico, were deliberately endeavoring to shape matters in such a way as to do very serious harm, it was believed, to the interests of the United States. Under such conditions no one could reasonably complain because we undertook, employing as means only argument and persuasion, to acquire that important and valuable territory, and ward off these apparently imminent dangers. Albert Gallatin, who opposed our taking the step, wrote later that it was “both expedient and natural, indeed ultimately unavoidable.”[1]
No doubt it was quite natural that Mexico should take offence. To see a handful of poor farmers, nearly all of them foreigners by birth, rebel against their national government, appropriate a large portion of the nation’s territory, rout its army, capture its President, establish a working political system, and gain recognition abroad, had been fearfully trying. To believe, not only on the authority of every Mexican leader but on that of many Europeans and some eminent Americans, that all this loss and chagrin were largely, if not wholly, due to the machinations of a neighbor, allied to Mexico by a treaty of amity and constantly professing friendship, was harder yet. And now to find those Texans, recently so eager to escape from all outside control, preparing as if by a preconcerted understanding to join that seemingly perfidious and aggressive nation, carrying their invaluable territories with them, and bringing its frontier to the very bank of the Rio Grande—this was certainly enough to make any citizen, ignorant of the natural steps by which it had really come about and quite unable to understand American ways, boil with rage. But the United States had labored to explain the affair to Mexico, and was not responsible for her blindness.
For a number of reasons Mexico had anticipated the final outcome of the Texan difficulties, and on August 23, 1843, Bocanegra, her secretary of relations, addressed our minister on the subject. The conduct of the United States regarding that province, he wrote, has “appeared to afford grounds for doubting the sincerity and frankness” of the American authorities, and therefore, while hoping that the republic founded by Washington may be saved “from stain and dishonor,” we announce hereby, “that the Mexican Government will consider equivalent to a declaration of war against the Mexican Republic the passage of an act [by the American Congress] for the incorporation of Texas with the territory of the United States; the certainty of the fact being sufficient for the immediate proclamation of war.” Such a note was of course decidedly offensive to the honor of this nation. Even Thompson felt compelled to be indignant.[2]
The following November Almonte, who then represented Mexico at Washington, informed our secretary of state that should Congress and the Executive decide upon annexation, he should consider his mission at an end. “My country,” he stated, “is resolved to declare war as soon as it receives information of such an act.” In reply, Upshur asserted rather sharply the right of the United States to regard Texas as an independent nation; but early in 1844 he talked the matter over with Almonte in a very frank and amicable way, and the Mexican minister concurred substantially in the annexation policy of our government. The next spring, however, he formally repeated the protests of August and November, 1843.[3]
THE UNITED STATES CONCILIATORY
Probably to gain time and if possible lead us on to acknowledge in some way the claim of Mexico, Almonte encouraged Calhoun, who had succeeded Upshur as the secretary of state, to believe that his government, looking upon Texas as lost, would accept a pecuniary consideration in order to minimize the misfortune; and about the middle of April, 1844, a “bearer of despatches” named Thompson left Washington with certain instructions from the secretary of state to B. E. Green, our chargé at Mexico. These directed him to inform the Mexican government that, while intending no disrespect and feeling an “anxious desire” to maintain friendly relations, the United States had been compelled by a regard for our own security to negotiate a treaty for the annexation of Texas without reaching a previous understanding with it, but had borne its attitude in mind, and was now ready to adjust all difficulties—particularly that of the boundary, which had purposely been left an open question—“on the most liberal and satisfactory terms.”[4]
Thompson landed at Vera Cruz on May 14, and proceeded at once to call on President Santa Anna, then at one of his estates near the coast. He next went on to the capital, and in company with Green had a conference with the acting President, who was, of course, entirely under Santa Anna’s control. No good results followed, however, and Calhoun’s overture for an amicable adjustment of the Texan difficulty, which Green presented officially in a note, was rejected by the Cabinet. The United States, Bocanegra pretended in his reply, though it had injured and outraged Mexico by taking steps toward annexation, had now recognized her claim to the territory; and he not only refused to make any concession, but formally repeated the declaration of August 23. He then placed the Texas affair before the diplomatic corps at Mexico; an unsuccessful attempt was made to obtain from Bankhead, the British minister, some hint of aid against the United States; Almonte received orders to persist in his protests; the newspapers, taking their cue from a journal under the President’s direct control, broke out into what Bankhead characterized as “the most violent strain of invective against the proposed annexation”; and Santa Anna himself, assuming the reins of government, called for 30,000 men and a large sum of money.[5]