WHY MEXICO WAS DEFEATED

Then between us and this difficult people arose the extraordinarily complicated question of Texas. It was characteristic of Mexico to deny the justice of the Texan revolt on the ground that settlers in her territory were bound to accept the political will of the country; but it was futile. “Nobody will be argued into slavery,” said Burke; and this was peculiarly true when the proffered slavery did not in truth represent the will of the country, and was more capricious, cruel and injurious than the régime against which the Mexicans themselves had rebelled. Our recognition of Texas not only was founded on just reasons, but was concurred in by the leading powers of Europe. The annexation of that republic meant the wise and unforced incorporation of a free people, independent both by right and in fact, after Mexico had practically abandoned all expectation of its becoming once more a part of that nation, and entertained little hope save to gratify a stubborn pride at the expense of Texas and the rest of the world.[3]

Her treatment of Texans and Americans violated the laws of justice and humanity, and—since there was no tribunal to punish it—laid upon the United States, both as her nearest neighbor and as an injured community, the duty of retribution. In almost every way possible, indeed, she forced us to take a stand. She would neither reason nor hearken to reason, would not understand, would not negotiate. Compensation for the loss of territory, in excess of its value to her, she knew she could have. Peace and harmony with this country she knew might be hers. But prejudice, vanity, passion and wretched politics inclined her toward war; her overrated military advantages, her expectations of European aid, the unpreparedness of the United States, and in particular the supposed inferiority of Taylor and his army encouraged her; and she deliberately launched the attack so long threatened.

As was just and natural, Mexico primarily owed her failure in the war to the characteristics that led her into it. From a strictly military point of view her case was not precisely hopeless. Intrinsically the rank and file of her armies, though not by nature warlike, had courage enough, and possessed an extraordinary degree of that willingness to endure fatigue and hardship, which Napoleon deemed still more important. They were more frugal and obedient than our men; and while the lack of moral and physical strength, discipline and confidence in one another and their officers made them shrink from the American bayonet and the fixed American eye behind it, they bore infantry and artillery fire as well as we did, if not better. Many engineers proved themselves excellent; many artillery officers were brave and efficient; and hence there was no reason why the infantry and cavalry might not have been well handled.

But the military point of view was by no means the only one to be considered. The want of public virtue had filled the army with miserable officers, the legislative halls with dishonest, scheming, clashing politicians, and the whole nation with quarreling factions and wrathful, disheartened people, secretly thankful to find their oppressors, whom they could not punish themselves, punished by the Americans. The hungry and beaten conscript went into battle sure that if wounded he would starve, if killed he would be devoured by the birds, and should neither accident occur he would simply drudge on as before; and the industrious, useful citizen understood, that if he should help the leaders of the nation by paying contributions, he would then have to fatten them by paying again. “We are saved by hope,” wrote the great Apostle, and the nation saw no hope. Primarily Mexico was defeated because she did not fight; and she did not fight because she had nothing to fight for. The military class, who had long pretended to be the nation, was given a chance to prove its claim, and the poor wretches who could be forced into the ranks had to support it; but the people in general, holding aloof to a great extent, said in effect, “Thou who hast consumed all the revenues without giving anything in return, thou for whom we have sacrificed so much, thou who hast used our own blood to make thyself master instead of servant—may the woe thou hast so long inflicted on us fall now on thee!”[4]

Santa Anna, the logical hero of such a nation, was also its logical scourge—a statesman unable to guide, a general unfitted to command, a leader qualified only to win revolutions, lose battles, and alternate between dictatorship and exile. Some observers—even American officers—impressed by the imposing front that he reared time after time, felt that he was a great man. Unquestionably he gathered troops and resources as no other Mexican of the time could have done. No doubt his lunge into the north and his defence of the capital were remarkable; and one could not complain of him, as did Tacitus of a Roman commander, that he was unable to harangue his army. He certainly did many things.[5]

But he did few things well. His achievements were the temporary triumphs of autocratic will-power. He suffered always from an essential want of capacity. He did not understand the Americans, and fancied that one defeat would cow us. He did not even understand his fellow-citizens, and could not realize that his long course of misconduct, and finally his negotiations with Mackenzie, had cut the root of confidence. A proclamation that sounded eloquent, he felt must be convincing. The impossibility of controlling the factional politics of such a country and also managing a war without the support of the nation—of riding two such horses at the same time—lay beyond his comprehension. Often his policy was like that of the man who ruins his constitution with drugs in order to cure a local ailment. Even his apparently noble decisions grew out of selfishness and rang hollow.

To his mind a collection of men was an army. Personal aims and feelings, instead of sound policy and the demands of discipline, controlled mostly his relations with officers. Because a revolutionary band could be held together by the hope of plunder, he imagined that a campaign could be waged on that basis. Because he thought it would be natural for the enemy to attack him in a certain way, he concluded positively that no other attack would be made. Strategy he did not attempt. And when it came to the direction of a battle, owing to ignorance and intellectual disqualifications, he lacked the quickness of perception and rapidity of combination that were essential to success. For the same reasons his total strength was never focused at the vital time and place, and a defeat became a rout.[6]

This is what a final glance at the Mexicans reveals; and now, to conclude the whole investigation, we should take a summary view of our own side.

THE AMERICAN CONGRESS