MEXICO UNPOPULAR IN EUROPE
Disraeli spoke of every government of Mexico as “born in a revolution and expiring in a riot.” The chargé d’affaires of Spain told Santa Anna that, on account of the instability of chiefs and systems, it was impossible to have a settled policy toward his country. In twenty years British imports did not increase, and the number of British houses engaged in Mexican business diminished. The treaty made with France after the war of 1838 was not carried out by Mexico; and at the beginning of 1846, owing to a long-standing quarrel, which France would have settled on reasonable terms, that country was represented by the Spanish minister. Mexico has “wilfully incurred the odium of foreign Nations,” declared the British Foreign Office; and the Mexican correspondent of the Times was permitted to say in its columns that an American absorption of Mexico would be greatly for the advantage of humanity. The London Athenæum expressed the same opinion. Even Le Journal des Débats, besides complaining that every nation in Europe had been treated outrageously by Mexico, admitted that she had “sunk to the lowest point of weakness and folly.” The country “is destitute of intelligence, of energy, of principle,” said that paper; “it is a government of barbarians, but of barbarians enervated by the corrupting vices of civilization.”[4]
To conciliate public opinion abroad, our state department on May 14, 1846, one day after Congress authorized war, issued a circular to the American ministers and consuls.[5] “It is our interest, as it has ever been our inclination,” said Buchanan, “that Mexico should be an independent and powerful Republic, and that our relations with her should be of the most friendly character”; but “the avaricious and unprincipled men who have placed themselves at the head of her Government” have prevented her from acting the part of a stable and orderly nation. “For some years, in our intercourse with her, we have incurred much of the expense, and suffered many of the inconveniences of war whilst nominally at peace. This state of things had, at last, become intolerable. We go to war with Mexico solely for the purpose of conquering an honorable and permanent peace. Whilst we intend to prosecute the war with vigor, both by land and by sea, we shall bear the olive branch in one hand, and the sword in the other; and whenever she will accept the former, we shall sheathe the latter.” This despatch and the President’s recent Message[6] were to guide our foreign representatives in conversation about the war.[7]
By the Spanish-Americans the outbreak of hostilities was received with surprising calmness. Mexico endeavored to make them feel that a conflict of races had begun, and that she was leading the van in a common cause; but whether dissatisfied with her course in the past—especially with reference to preferential trade relations—thankful to the United States for the shelter of the “Monroe Doctrine,” or simply indifferent to outside concerns, they held aloof. Guatemala alone displayed a strong sympathy. The official gazette of New Granada printed Polk’s war Message in full without a word of criticism.[9]
The mother-country, Spain, would naturally have been expected to take a deep interest in the contest; but Mexico had been a rebellious daughter, had treated the Spanish subjects within her borders with cruel unfriendliness, and had recently shown a fierce aversion to the scheme of subjecting her to a Spanish prince. For commercial reasons that power desired an early termination of the hostilities, and signified as much to our government;[8] but at the same time she pledged herself to “the strictest neutrality,” and she refrained from even offering mediation. Her minister at Mexico, Bermúdez de Castro, assisted the authorities there with advice, but before the war ended he turned over the legation to a chargé, and went home. A band of Carlist officers talked of going to the scene of action in May, 1847; but if their plan was carried out, they successfully avoided publicity. About the same time El Heraldo of Madrid asked whether Europe would permit the United States to absorb, little by little, all of America; but this was academic, and the journal admitted that Mexico was then practically beyond relief.[9]
Baron von Canitz, the Prussian minister of foreign relations, when officially notified of the war, said it must be far from easy to live on amicable terms with a country like Mexico, “where anarchy reigns and where the Supreme power was constantly contested by a succession of military chieftains, who were compelled to maintain their usurped authority by the same unworthy means by which they had obtained it.” Aided by Alexander von Humboldt, who had lived in Mexico, King Frederick William followed the operations of the war attentively; but, happy enough that we were not his own neighbors, he felt no concern about a possible enlargement of our territory at the expense of Mexico. Indeed, he looked upon our success as in the interest of civilization, and at a distinguished public meeting one of the ministers referred to our future power on the shores of the Pacific with hope and approbation. For the rest, as the Zollverein had little direct commercial business with the region blockaded, Prussia busied herself with her own affairs.[10]
SENTIMENT IN ENGLAND
At London the announcement of hostilities was both unexpected and unwelcome. Ostensibly they grew out of the annexation of Texas, and for that reason were a disagreeable reminder. They took place in spite of earnest efforts to prevent Mexico from challenging the United States, and hence recalled another diplomatic failure. They seemed almost certain to injure British interests, and increase the territory and prestige of the United States. There was a notion, voiced in Parliament by Disraeli, that success might be followed by an attack upon Canada or the British West Indies. It seemed highly probable that had England postponed for a few days the offer which finally settled the Oregon dispute, better terms might have been extorted from the United States. Her policy had been to have our difficulties with Mexico kept alive until after an adjustment of that affair, and now it was thought possible that we might bring Mexico to terms at once, and use in some other unpleasant way our military preparations. The war, so much regretted by her, was seen to be largely, if not mainly or wholly, due to this policy and that of the British newspapers, which had urged Mexico to despise our military power, and to rely upon the difficulty of invading her territory successfully; and finally an uncomfortable fear prevailed that in some way the peace of the world might be imperilled.[11]
Hence disappointment and irritation were felt at the British Foreign Office. Aberdeen warned our minister that dangers of collision would be involved in a blockade and in any project of acquiring territory; and he said frankly that he could not be expected to contemplate with any pleasure the disastrous injuries the war might very probably inflict upon the Mexican government and people. Only one cause of satisfaction could be seen by the British Cabinet. An apprehension had been felt that France might be induced—through her friendship for the United States or the idea that American control of Mexico would be for her diplomatic and commercial advantage—to join us; and the French king, confirming an anticipatory declaration already made by Guizot, took position at once for strict neutrality.[11]
In the press and the commercial circles of London sympathy with Mexico was general, said our minister; and the news that Americans were fighting aroused no sentiment in our favor. Of course little could be expected of “that Napoleon of the backwoods,” as Britannia called our President. The defeat of Taylor on the Rio Grande was hoped for and counted upon; and even after his overthrow of Arista the Times, which had already predicted that our operations, in the case of hostilities, would be “utterly uninteresting and inglorious”—even “disgusting”—concluded that we should probably fail. “Bluster does not win battles, though it may begin brawls,” the editor moralized. All Europe must consider the war “an insulting and illegal aggression,” said the Chronicle; and the Post attributed our course to “the angry passions of the untamed democracy of the States,” which Polk was ready to gratify at any cost.[11]