SANTA ANNA AT THE CAPITAL
But all these busy folks were only mice, reckoning without the cat. On leaving Puebla Santa Anna proceeded to San Martín, which lay on the direct road to Mexico where it began to ascend the rim of the Valley. Works had been erected near, but it was found they could easily be turned and not easily be provisioned; and a council of war decided to occupy the capital, since only there could large resources be counted upon. May 18, therefore, the wretched army of 3000 or 3500 men arrived at Ayotla, fifteen miles from their destination. Learning of this unexpected and undesired event, the hostile elements undertook to “pronounce” at once, but could not set the movement off. Three leading statesmen of the dominant party then hurried to meet the General, and after arguing all day persuaded him to write that Anaya might remain in office and even decide whether Mexico City should be defended, while he himself would retain his military command, or, if dissatisfied with Anaya’s decision, would resign.[6]
But presently cunning Tornel and one or two others convinced Santa Anna that a mere handful of enemies had spread this net in order to drag him from power, and eliminate his influence on the vital question of peace. Jealousy and fears inspired by the favor that Valencia and Bravo were apparently enjoying, added to the urgency of his officers, did the rest; and on the nineteenth, in spite of the understanding just agreed upon—indeed, only about an hour after his letter reached the palace—his troops entered the city. Anaya’s rather sour and curdled face flushed hot and bitter. He did not care to retain the Presidency, for he believed a revolution would soon break out; but forcible ejection, in disregard of a written promise, was another affair. He found himself powerless, however; and the next day, after inducing a council of generals to decide upon holding Mexico, Santa Anna announced that he would sacrifice his wishes, and resume the executive power.[6]
The state of things that ensued was indescribable. Nothing equal to it has been known perhaps, and nothing imagined save the witches’ caldron. One public man estimated the number of bubbling intrigues as twenty millions. Nothing is left us except vanity and dissension, but those we possess in the superlative degree, wrote Ramírez. Congress had no prestige, no power, no capacity; and its factions could see nothing except opportunities to stab one another. Santa Anna’s breach of faith intensified the distrust and hatred of the Moderados without gratifying the Puros. Hoping to win some popularity, he restored the freedom of the press, which had recently been curtailed; but his enemies merely took advantage of it. “The man of La Angostura, of Cerro Gordo, of Amozoc, weary of destroying Mexicans on the field of battle, comes home tranquilly to find repose in the Presidential chair,” exclaimed Almonte’s organ.[6]
A plausible and eloquent manifesto put out over Santa Anna’s name dropped cold on the pavement. No basis of popular or political strength for even a temporary footing could be discovered by his counsellors. Santa Anna himself felt staggered by the opposition. His only chance was to place the nation between the devil and the deep sea—between bayonets and chaos—hoping it would again call upon him to save it; and so on the twenty-eighth, declaring that schemers and revolutionists, who found him in their way, paralyzed his efforts to serve the country, he made another sacrifice, and resigned the Presidency.[6]
Unhappily for him it soon appeared likely that Congress would accept the sacrifice, while on the other hand certain aspects of his outlook brightened. Busy Tornel induced a fraction of the Puros, who realized their helplessness, to adopt his cause. Valencia, though much to Santa Anna’s repugnance, had been given for his present portion the chief command at San Luis Potosí, and so disappeared from the capital. Almonte found himself in prison under a charge of conspiracy. Arista and Ampudia were banished from the vicinity. Bravo retired from his command. At the same time promotions fell copiously on devotees; and the happy recipients knew these might well cease to be valid, should their patron fall. Almonte was said to have received a majority of the votes for President, while Santa Anna had been supported by only Chihuahua; but so much territory lay in American hands that a question about the legality of the election arose, and Congress deferred the matter. On the second of June, therefore, the arch-prestidigitator laid himself once more upon the altar, and in order to save the country from Scott and anarchy withdrew his resignation.[6]
“Mexicans, I shall be with you always—to the consummation of your ruin,” so the Monitor Republicano paraphrased his announcement; and then it added: “What a life of sacrifice is the General’s; a sacrifice to take the power, to resign, to resume; ultimate sacrifice; ultimate final; ultimate more final; ultimate most final; ultimate the very finalest. But let him cheer up. He is not alone in making sacrifices. For twenty-five years the Mexican people have been sacrificing themselves, all of them, in the hope that certain persons would do good to the country.” But in spite of sarcasm and ridicule Santa Anna had triumphed. Hated by many, disliked by most, distrusted by nearly all, yet forging ahead because he was on the ground with troops, because his combination of good luck, audacity and cunning could not be matched, because the Moderado government had proved incompetent, because a régime of dissension and anarchy could organize no solid opposition against him, and because a group of selfish interests found in him a sharp, tough bit of steel to fix at the head of their spear, he triumphed once more.[6]
SANTA ANNA STILL SUPREME
The victory threatened, however, to be fatal. In every direction lurked pitfalls charged with gunpowder. In all the history of Mexico dissensions had never been more bitter, nor political and social chaos nearer. Congress annoyed him until at length, by failing week after week to form a quorum lest one faction or another should score an advantage, it fell into abeyance and left him virtually a dictator.[7] In the hope of obtaining funds from the Church, he gave deeper offence than ever to the most prominent of the Moderados; but the prelates, in alliance with leading monarchists, continued to plot against him. Newspapers waged a bitter campaign until choked with an iron hand. His persecution of the generals excited fierce resentment. A Puro chief, entering the Cabinet and getting a glimpse of his ulterior aims, resigned in six days.[8]
In short the administration had no political creed, and could find no political support; and the assistance of that indispensable villain, Tornel, who could be seen stealing to the palace at the hour when the night-hawk begins to fly, covered it with discredit. Executive authorities waged almost civil war upon one another. Rumors, not without some basis, that a formal dictatorship was in view, could not be stilled; and the general want of confidence in the President’s character and aims rendered the most skilful appeals to patriotism vain. Only by the utmost exertions could the fragile edifice of government be kept balanced on the point of the bayonet.[8]