Such an intoxication of animal vitality demanded a fight, of course. “The multitude cry aloud for war,” admitted the New York Herald in August, 1845. “Nine-tenths of our people, ceteris paribus, would rather have a little fighting than not,” was the opinion of its neighbor, the Morning News. “let us go to war,” began a leader in the New York Journal of Commerce; “The world has become stale and insipid, the ships ought to be all captured, and the cities battered down, and the world burned up, so that we can start again. There would be fun in that. Some interest,—something to talk about.” If such was the feeling in a high latitude, it must have burned hot at the south; and the young men of the Mississippi valley had special reasons for their ardor. The region of western Tennessee had been settled by revolutionary soldiers, and they had left a rich inheritance of military traditions. Jackson towered above all other figures at the southwest, and his chief distinction was that of the sword. Everybody talked still of the war of 1812 and his brilliant exploit at New Orleans. Indeed, when the mind wearied of the continual hunting, there was little else to fasten its eye upon. Military glory became the young man’s dream. All aspired to be soldiers, and to win renown by fighting for their country. This was their inborn and incessantly cultivated ambition; and it need not be added that all the young ladies felt that only a military hero, or at least the makings of such a hero, deserved their attention.[15]

Reasons enough why this feeling concentrated upon Mexico have already been given, but certain others are in order here. That “is indeed the garden spot of the Americas and presents allurements more tempting than did the sunny plains and vineyards of Italy, when the northern hordes swept down and drifted like a snowstorm over the south of Europe”—such was the picture of “that magnificent region” held up by the Commercial Bulletin of New Orleans before thousands of young sparks bored nearly to death by the commonplace. Besides, greatly exaggerated notions of Mexico’s wealth got abroad. Young fellows overstocked with energy were not willing to hoe corn at five shillings a day, or dig potatoes for every tenth bushel when the mountains of a near and hostile country were understood to be packed with silver, and her churches to be radiant with diamonds and gold. Stronger than all else, perhaps, the vague but romantic idea of “revelling in the halls of the Montezumas” exercised a perfect fascination. A letter from New York published in August, 1845, declared that fully twenty thousand volunteers could be raised in that city alone “without fee or reward, who would jump at the chance of marching to Mexico” simply to enjoy this diversion. In short, said the New York Morning News, all the “young and ardent spirits that throng the cities and are spread over the face of the Union want but a direction to their restless energies, and their attention is already fixed on Mexico.”[16]

What made this outlook peculiarly inviting was the belief that only one bold, swift dash would be needed—no dull, plodding, grimy campaigning year after year. Six sevenths of the people in Mexico were said to be Indians, half-breeds and negroes—“mere slaves,” and the rest of them degenerate Spaniards; and the keepers of that paradise, the guardians of those treasures, were represented as “a feeble and degraded soldiery, who would be scattered like chaff by the first volley from the Anglo-Saxon rifle, the first charge of the Anglo-Saxon bayonet.” “An adventure full of fun and frolic and holding forth the rewards of opulence and glory,” was therefore the Commercial Bulletin’s golden picture of a war with Mexico, and such became the common idea.[17]

In the summer of 1845 this magnificent dream of sport, glory and opulence appeared to be on the point of realization, and the war spirit flamed high. Even journals that had stood firmly against annexing Texas took fire. “What more inspiring strain can strike the ears of freemen,” demanded the Richmond Enquirer, “than the trumpet note which summons our people to the punishment of tyrants?... We utterly mistake the spirit of republicanism in America, if there be not one voice for a full and thorough chastisement of Mexican arrogance and folly.” The prospect of “coercing” out of Mexico her “spirit of depredation, perfidy and aggression” and thus inaugurating the sweet and commercially profitable reign of peace excited hot zeal. West of the Alleghanies the feeling was peculiarly strong. At Nashville the Union promised that “any number” of volunteers the government might call for would be forthcoming. At St. Louis, in the opinion of the Reveille, only a prospect of service in the field was needed to induce “the most active volunteering” among the “enthusiastic population.” “Go where you will,” recorded the Picayune, “’tis war and nothing but war;” and Buchanan wrote, “You can have no adequate conception of the military ardor which exists” in the west and southwest; “It will be easy to bring 100,000 volunteers into the field from those States.”[18]

When Mexico seemed to be slow about striking, the New York Morning News declared that “a feeling of disappointment” began to be shown by the public, though still, it added, “At every spring of the whelp, at every mail from the Gulf, the national pulse moves quicker.” When the prospect of immediate hostilities appeared to be over, the Mobile Herald and Tribune announced, “After all the visions of glory and honor which have been dancing through the popular brain for the last six months” nothing has been done. But in reality something had been done. Such a state of passion could not simply go out of existence, especially since the causes of it still remained. The people had become yet more thoroughly inoculated with the idea of fighting Mexico, and the country had not advanced far into the new year 1846 before all were again talking about it, said a Mississippi journal. “Sunday editors” in particular, it added, “shriek out ‘War! War! War!’” Will Polk be able to withstand the clamor? asked the Memphis Enquirer; “We fear not.” The final rejection of Slidell naturally intensified the martial feeling. “The almost unanimous voice of the American people,” wrote even Governor Hammond of South Carolina, insisted upon war. So much for the attitude of the public.[19]

THE CHARGE THAT POLK WISHED FOR WAR

Turning now to the attitude of the government, we are told at once that Polk deliberately intended to attack Mexico, and are offered various reasons for so believing. One accuser says that he was ambitious for personal glory; another, that he desired to perpetuate the power of his party; a third, that he felt anxious to cover up the humiliating result of the Oregon negotiation; still another, that he wished to be reëlected; and more than one allege that he was determined to obtain California. For this last view there is just evidence enough to create a suspicion. For example, Bancroft remarked more than forty years after the event that Polk said the acquisition of that province would be one of his aims, and this remark has been cited as if it proved the charge. But there was not the slightest impropriety in his desiring an immensely valuable territory that Webster had endeavored a few years before to acquire, and in 1845 Bancroft himself represented the President’s feeling toward Mexico as “most conciliatory.” Indeed, after the conflict had begun, Bancroft wrote privately to Samuel Hooper, “We were driven reluctantly to war.”[20]

Again, certain facts are cited and aligned: Polk wanted California, a war occurred, and he promptly took advantage of the war to occupy the desired territory. But the existence of several points in line does not prove the existence of a path connecting them, and there is weighty evidence against the suspicion which these facts naturally excite. While directing Slidell to obtain the cession of northern California, if he could, Buchanan intimated, as we have seen, that he should not press this matter, if so doing would prevent the restoration of amicable relations with Mexico. In other words, instead of desiring to precipitate a war for the sake of obtaining California, Polk was ready to let California go—or at least wait—for the sake of maintaining peace. Besides, as we shall find when we come to the operations on the western coast, Polk had a policy for the acquisition of that region, and this policy did not contemplate war. With nothing solid to stand upon, then, and much to stand against, this theory must be given up.[20]

The other explanations of Polk’s alleged intention to fight Mexico are evidently mere conjectures, and prove nothing. The idea that contracts and offices could strengthen the administration and build up the party is mainly, or perhaps entirely, fallacious. There were not enough to satisfy more than a small percentage of the hungry patriots, and the rest were likely to take offence. Moreover, if given to Democrats, these favors could make no converts; while if given to Whigs, the Democrats were sure to complain, and few of the recipients could change their party for such a reason. Many of Polk’s chief troubles, as his diary shows, came from dissatisfied applicants for commissions, and any person well versed in public affairs could have foreseen that it would be so.[21] And yet, after all, the charge that he purposely brought on the war has been so commonly believed, or at least so frequently repeated, that it can fairly demand a more extended examination.[22]

POLK’S PERSONALITY