Tecolote also, at the bottom of the valley, witnessed a scene of this kind; and the next day, crossing the swift Pecos, Kearny followed a similar course at the red adobe town of San Miguel. Here the alcalde said he would rather wait until after the capture of Santa Fe. “It is enough for you to know, Sir, that I have captured your town,” was the stern reply. Doubtless, in their muddled way, the people wondered at this first illustration of liberty; but with characteristic politeness, timidity and guile they wrinkled their faces as if pleased. In spite of orders and sentinels the fields of waving corn, full of ears just prime for roasting, suffered a little; but Kearny paid for the damage, and that at least was appreciated.[16]

By this time officers sent forward to learn the state of public sentiment at the city of Taos, an important seat of the Pueblo Indians, and at Santa Fe had returned with unwelcome reports, and several American residents had brought warnings of danger. The activity of Mexican spies—kindly treated when captured, and in some cases released at once with friendly messages—proved that Armijo was alert; and on August 14 his reply to the note sent by Cooke, while proposing that Kearny halt and that negotiations be opened, informed the General that the people were rising en masse to defend the province, and that Armijo would place himself at their head.[11] Fifteen hundred dragoons had reached or were near Santa Fe, it was reported; and at a natural gateway, cutting a ridge about four hundred feet high, a hostile force was said to be waiting. On hearing this news all the weary men and their drooping steeds came to life. The banners and guidons were unfurled. “To horse!” blared the trumpets; “Trot! Gallop! Charge!” And with sabres glittering under a brilliant sun the troopers dashed round a sharp turn into the pass, while the artillery thundered after them, and the infantry scrambled over the ridge. Not an enemy was found; but the reports agreed that Apache Canyon, some distance farther on, would be stiffly and strongly defended.[16]

This was extremely serious news. To march nearly 2000 soldiers eight or nine hundred miles through a wilderness involved fearful risks, and the expedition was now at the breaking point. The men had become travel-worn and half-starved; many, if not all, were suffering from the effects of the water, loaded with acrid salts, which they had been drinking; the horses generally were on their last legs; and hundreds of horses and mules actually could not march another day. It had already been necessary to attach cattle to the ammunition wagons, and the cannon were now dragged along with extreme difficulty. The provisions had practically been exhausted. And here lay a defile seven or eight miles long, guarded by several thousand militia, a force of regulars and considerable artillery.[16]

CROSS-CURRENTS

As these facts indicate, the New Mexicans did not seem willing to justify Polk’s expectations. Whatever Armijo’s own opinions, public sentiment appeared to demand action. There existed a good deal of warlike spirit in the province, and naturally the prospect of an armed invasion excited resentment. The ignorant and suspicious people were easily persuaded, after their hard experience under Mexican rule, that the Americans were coming to take their property; and the priests added, that besides abusing the women these ruffians would brand them on the cheek as mules were branded. August 8 the governor therefore issued a proclamation, summoning the people to take up arms in the cause of “sacred independence”; the prefect of Taos and presumably other local authorities followed his example; and several thousand of the people,[12] Mexicans or Indians, many of them armed only with bows and arrows, clubs or lariats, but all apparently eager to fight, were placed at Apache Canyon under Colonel Manuel Pino.[16]

At this juncture, however, Cooke, a Chihuahua merchant named González and one James Magoffin, a jovial and rich Kentucky Irishman, prominent in the caravan trade and long a resident of Chihuahua, arrived at Santa Fe. Magoffin had been introduced by Senator Benton to Polk, and after some talk had consented to act as a sort of informal commissioner to Armijo in the interest of peaceful relations. He now argued, according to the very reasonable statement of the governor, that American rule would enhance the price of real estate and make New Mexico prosperous.[13] Undoubtedly he dwelt upon the impossibility of successful resistance; and probably he suggested—though Armijo’s avarice required no hint on this point—that should cordial feelings prevail, the duties on the approaching merchandise, a fortune in themselves, would be paid at the Santa Fe customhouse, where the governor could handle them.[16]

On the other hand, no aid was coming from the south. The 1500 dragoons were not even phantasmal. Ugarte’s cheering statement that he could bring 1000 men to New Mexico had no doubt been intended, and no doubt was understood, as mere stimulation. According to the latest returns, New Mexico, Chihuahua, Durango and Zacatecas together had less than 2000 poorly equipped and poorly subsisted troops, the greater part of whom were the scattered and almost worthless Presidials. The general government, when officially notified of the coming invasion, merely issued a few nugatory orders and expressed “profound regret.” The people’s loyalty to the government and especially to the governor appeared uncertain. Armijo understood that he was not a general, and no doubt understood also that he was a coward; and for all these reasons he decided—though wavering to the end—that hostilities were to be avoided, should that be possible. Diego Archuleta also, one of the chief military officers, was approached by Magoffin, and under genial manipulation proved to be much less bloodthirsty than had been supposed. Consul Alvarez, it will be recalled, had previously found the subordinate officials tractable, and it may safely be supposed in general that very little desire to fight the Americans existed in the governor’s entourage.[16]

Pino seems to have felt differently, however, and when Armijo was on the road to the canyon, August 16, with two or three hundred soldiers and about eight guns, he received a message from that officer threatening to come and fetch him, if he did not join the militia. This augured ill, and the augury proved correct. The people demanded to be led against the enemy, but Armijo said the Americans were too strong. Pino offered to attack if he could have a part of the regulars, but the governor was determined to keep them all for his own protection. Then he was called a traitor, and retaliated by calling the people disloyal and cowardly. They threatened him; and he, more afraid of his own army than of Kearny’s, urged the militia to go home and let the regulars do the fighting. Threatened again, he forbade the people to come near his camp; and finally he turned his cannon in their direction.[16]

In reality the people themselves had no great hunger for battle. Besides detesting Armijo, they were doubtless influenced by much lurking anti-Mexican or pro-American sentiment; had probably learned to question the diabolical intentions attributed to Kearny’s troops; were fully aware in a general way of American superiority; and felt deeply impressed by tales about the great number of the invaders, their long train, their many guns, their enormous horses and the terrible men themselves—an army, in short, such as they had never dreamed of before. The quarrels of their leaders both disgusted and disheartened them; and they began to think, too, of their lives, families and property. August 17, therefore, they broke up, and went every man his own way. A council of the regular officers favored retreat. The Presidials deserted or were dismissed; the cannon were spiked and left in the woods; and in about two weeks Armijo—though offered personal security and freedom at Santa Fe—turned up at Chihuahua with ninety dragoons. He had proved not exactly a traitor, perhaps;[14] but certainly not a patriot, and still more certainly, if that was possible, not a hero.[16]

OPPOSITION COLLAPSES