At “unconquered Puebla,” which was more fully under the domination of the Church than any other Mexican town, circumstances favored the clerical design. Terrible stories had been circulated there about the Americans. They were barbarians, vandals, tigers; they had branded and sent across the Gulf into slavery shiploads of Tampico people, and stuck little children on their bayonets at Vera Cruz. But these tales had now lost all credibility. Santa Anna had been found out. Buena Vista no longer seemed a Mexican victory. The military caste was not only hated but despised. News had come that wherever the Americans took possession, odious taxes were abolished and trade became brisk. Scott’s treatment of the people shone in comparison with Santa Anna’s, and his soldiers looked angelic beside the guerillas. The defeat at Cerro Gordo caused not only deep discouragement but even deeper disgust, for the men and money of the state had been sacrificed to the incompetence of the commanders. Besides, marvels were told of the Americans. They could hew a man asunder at one stroke; their horses were gigantic and incredibly swift; their artillery was unspeakably terrible; and every one of their bullets might split into fifty pieces, each of the pieces fatal. Worth’s division included 5000 of these warriors, an American deserter stated.[8]
With such popular support the clericals had Isunza, who was closely connected with them, put in place of the vigorous Ibarra as governor, and he not only took a stand for non-resistance, but answered the appeals of the national government with sharp complaints. Instead of preaching against the Americans, the churchmen led pious processions about the streets, to show that prayer and not the arm of flesh was to be relied upon. The arms and ammunition were sent away—for safe-keeping. The governor would supply no funds for military purposes. “Reason prohibits vain sacrifices,” he remarked. The comandante general decided that the city could not be defended. The prefect ordered that after the arrival of the Americans, not more than three citizens were to meet in public, and that none should carry arms; while the ayuntamiento announced that no unsigned placards would be tolerated. “Men are not all called to play the rôle of heroes,” observed the Monitor del Pueblo. We can only “await with resignation the terrible blow with which Providence chooses to afflict us,” decided the city authorities. All the arrangements are complete, Worth was notified by headquarters on the tenth of May. The people are waiting for you, reported foreigners from Puebla.[8]
Scott, for his part, agreed to protect the citizens and especially the Church, and he put forth on the eleventh of May a proclamation called by him “the crowning act of conciliation,” which was drawn up under his direction by a representative of the bishop of Puebla, and embodied the ideas and sentiments deemed by the leaders of the clerical party most likely to be effective.[7] The oppression under which the people of Mexico lay crushed received in this proclamation brief but vivid treatment, distrust regarding Santa Anna’s abilities, honor and aims was excited, and the Americans were represented as true brethren of the Mexicans. Paredes, an unpatriotic usurper, had forced us to take up arms in behalf of republican institutions and the welfare of the whole continent, as well as for the maintenance of our proper dignity; but we were anxious now as ever, to live in peace and friendship with Mexico, even though determined, if the war must continue, to do the work of the sword thoroughly.[8]
SANTA ANNA’S MEASURES
On the other hand Santa Anna was not idle. His first thought on quitting the terrible field of Cerro Gordo was that Canalizo’s horse would stop at El Encero, and that he might rally the flying infantry upon it; but on moving in that direction by the southern bank of Río del Plan he found himself cut off by the American pursuit, and turned abruptly to the left. Always profoundly depressed after a reverse, he rode along grim and speechless, as if stunned; but the next day an enthusiastic reception at a small town, aided perhaps by the marvellous beauty of the district, lifted his head. In the early evening of April 21 he reached Orizaba, and here the applause of the readily excited townsfolk made him feel himself once more a general and a President.[12]
His low intellectual plane did not permit him to understand his mental inferiority or to perceive the real strength of the unpretentious and apparently careless Americans.[9] It was impossible for him, looking abroad upon a vast and potentially rich country with all the vanity of his people, to believe that a handful of poorly dressed Yankees, imperfectly trained and seemingly not very martial, could overpower its millions. He felt that sooner or later his groping finger would touch the right spring, as it had done so many times before, and the nation would rise up about him. Pride, self-will and blind passion, raging in his heart, inflamed his courage; and his sense of a proprietary claim to the country inspired him with a sort of patriotism. What has been lost after all, he said, except a position and some cannon? The nation is still mighty. Let it but join me, and I shall yet be victorious.[12]
Within his reach lay the brigade of Antonio de León—a little more than 1000 poorly armed men with two 6-pounders—just from Oaxaca, the presence of which in this quarter had brought him to Orizaba, and also the National Guards ordered before the battle to Chiquihuite. Larger and smaller bodies of fugitives and irregulars, learning where he was, came in. All the armed men of the vicinity, whatever their proper function, he caught in his unsparing net, and he summoned to the colors every citizen from sixteen to forty years of age. Beyond the sweep of his arm far less animation reigned. One disappointment more, one hope less now, was the mildest frame of mind among the public. Canalizo, a faithful dog that for the present had been kicked one time too many, sharply resented Santa Anna’s complaints. The scattering soldiers and officers, denouncing him bitterly as well as exaggerating the power of the Americans, discouraged the people. A popular newspaper demanded savagely that he should be court-martialled. The charge of collusion with the invaders came back to life. Many of the Indians, feeling that an American triumph would help them, became restive.[12]
But the government stood resolutely behind him, and he was invested with plenary powers. Soto tried again to rouse the people of the state. From a wider and wider circle fugitives and laboring men were gathered. Small cannon and some artillerists came within his reach. The stocks of horses and mules that Scott had tried in vain to get from the region of the upper Alvarado River were turned to account. Considerable money and supplies arrived from the government, and other funds and necessaries were taken without formalities wherever they could be discovered.[10] By the first of May he pretended there were 4000 men under his flag, and no doubt he did have 2500.[12]
By good fortune more than by design, too, he found himself in an excellent position, within striking distance of Scott’s communications, rear and base; and even though not richly imbued with the spirit of Napoleonic warfare, he laid his plans accordingly. But—fortunately for Scott, who might have been seriously embarrassed[11]—Santa Anna was more politician than general. On May 15 the election of a President was to occur, and the votes had to be counted at the seat of government. His enemies and rivals were incessantly busy there. A revolution had begun to brew, he understood. A suspicion had got abroad that he intended to give up the fight and move into Guatemala; and news reached him that Mexico City was to be surrendered. For these reasons and to obtain additional supplies, all his forces were directed upon Puebla; and at the head of a motley and miserable army numbering—he boasted—4500 men he arrived there on May 11.[12]
His reception was not flattering. Aside from the fact that everybody of much account felt ready to see Scott, the town had suffered previously through Santa Anna’s visiting it, accounts of his exactions had come from Orizaba, his presence was thought likely to result in hostilities, and the people feared that he would compel them to take up arms. Many fled at his approach, and many more wished they were elsewhere. Not without excuse under the circumstances, his conduct was arbitrary, insulting and extortionate. He cashiered all the officers of the Vera Cruz garrison, raved at the indifference of the authorities and people at Puebla, seized the horses, made liberal demands for cash, and—it was asserted—even took ornaments of gold from the churches. Some funds, a quantity of ammunition and some cannon were finally obtained here; but Isunza furnished him less than two hundred men, and perhaps the indignation of the people quite offset his gains.[13]