Apparently Santa Anna’s one chance was to declare himself dictator immediately, and, if he cared to make so distasteful a bargain, ratify it himself; but there were signs that his army—with Valencia and Paredes, long favorites of the military caste, bidding against him—would not support his authority against such opposition in such a cause. Rascally but keen Tornel, who called himself the Rainbow because he shone in stormy times, but was likened by others to the bat, poured self-interested counsels against peace into his ear; and from similar motives Pacheco assisted Tornel. Santa Anna’s nerve weakened. Besides, an alternative offered itself. Had not Scott lost a good part of his little army in the recent fighting, and made the armistice in the desperate hope of receiving fresh troops? Might not fickle fortune change in the next battle? Whatever its result, could the Americans venture to demand more than was now demanded? Why not have another throw of the dice, and then make the treaty, if it could not be avoided?[17]

As soon as Trist’s persistence in our demands was made known to him, therefore, although he still felt some hope they would be modified, Santa Anna began to prepare a line of retreat. Warlike instead of pacific reasons for agreeing to the armistice made their appearance in public. Every thought of negotiating a treaty was denied, and papers were drawn up representing him as a bold and indignant champion of Mexican rights. At first his orders had been to keep the agreement with Scott inviolably; but on finding that no acceptable modification of Trist’s demands was in sight, he proceeded to break it—especially by preventing money and supplies from leaving the city, and by having work done on the fortifications of Chapultepec—and appeals for troops, funds and materials were issued. Scott, on the other hand, there is good reason to believe, adhered to his pledges; but he was alert, and his paid agents in the city watched Santa Anna’s proceedings. On September 2 he relinquished all real expectation of peace, yet he still clung to hope.[19]

The Mexican leader also shrank from drawing the sword. But on the afternoon of the 6th his commissioners, arriving late and agitated at the rendezvous, presented Trist with a counter-projet, which they knew he would reject, and an argumentative note intended for the Mexican public. No discussion took place. Evidently the time for words had passed. Scott then sent a letter charging that Santa Anna had violated the armistice, and announcing that unless complete satisfaction should be made before noon the following day, hostilities would be resumed. Santa Anna’s ingenious reply was mainly a counter-blast of accusations designed to rouse what he called “the first city of the American continent”; and again it was war.[18] Yet something had been accomplished. The word “peace” had been uttered and seriously considered; it was Trist’s firm belief that not only the commissioners but most of the Cabinet were for accepting the American terms; in a measure this attitude on the part of leading Moderados committed their party; and the Mexican plenipotentiaries retired from the meetings filled with cordiality and even admiration for Trist.[19]

In the United States great disappointment was felt over the issue of these negotiations. The general view of the armistice was the easy, superficial one that all Mexicans were rascals, and that Santa Anna had shamelessly tricked our good faith. Marcy, not seeing that the counter-projet was a political ruse, gravely pronounced it “extravagant and inadmissible.” Polk, whose knowledge of the Mexicans was revealed by his quaint idea that an extension of the American ægis over New Mexico might be welcomed by them, condemned the armistice as if peace had not been his avowed aim; and the administration organ, besides representing Scott and Trist as dupes, described it as contrary to the intentions of the government, when in fact a commissioner had attended the army for the express purpose of negotiating at the earliest possible moment. Mexico rejects peace, proclaimed the Union; let us give her war. “Burn the olive branch and whet the sword,” was the popular cry; let her be humbled in dust and ashes![20]

THE AMERICAN VIEW

To the army the respite of a fortnight proved a physical, mental and moral blessing. San Agustín, buried in orchards, umbrageous Coyoacán, cozy San Angel and lively Mixcoac had each its charms; and Tacubaya, where the palace, embowered in blossoms and fragrance, crowned a hill gently—even pensively—shaded by silvery old olives, was lovelier yet, and afforded the noblest views. Here the brilliant sunrise, first lighting up the distant white volcanoes that propped the sky, and then stooping to brighten the near-by villas of the city merchants, ushered in gorgeously the perfect day. After noon black, jagged clouds could be seen gathering quickly in the soft and luminous blue; the edge of one would melt into a slender gray shadow, dripping to the earth; and in a few moments the grandest artillery of the heavens would be at work. Then sometimes a rainbow followed; the sunset was fair; the moon rose clear and full; and the white houses, massive towers and brilliant porcelain domes of the city appeared to be afloat in a magical radiance toned with slumber and with dreams. “Heaven help those at home,” wrote a soldier, “who think they know what moonlight is!”[21]

Amid experiences like these it seemed hard, almost impossible, to contemplate war and bloodshed. But the troops felt thoroughly angered by what they looked upon as Mexican treachery—first in pretending to negotiate, and then in violating the armistice; and they quickly nerved themselves, not without satisfaction, for the coming struggle. All realized that only triumph could save them now from destruction.[21]

XXVIII
MOLINO DEL REY, CHAPULTEPEC, MEXICO
September, 1847

Rather more than half a mile west of Chapultepec and still farther north of Tacubaya stood a complicated range of low stone buildings known as El Molino del Rey (The King’s Mill). They extended in a rambling fashion approximately north and south more than 300 yards, and consisted essentially of a flour mill and a foundry for bronze cannon. The heavy walls and the parapets of the flat roofs, reinforced with sand-bags, made these buildings almost a fort. Nearly half a mile from them toward the northwest lay a very solid stone edifice, at one time a powder magazine, called the Casa Mata, protected now with a small, dry fosse and light, incomplete breastworks. Along the west front of El Molino extended a somewhat irregular drainage ditch, or series of ditches, at this critical time free from water, which then made a bend, passed some twenty-five yards from the south face of Casa Mata, continued in the same direction nearly one fourth of a mile, and finally joined a deep, wide ravine, that ran for a long way northeast and southwest, and could not easily be crossed except (at X) near this junction. For military uses the ditch gained strength from dirt thrown up in front of it and a line of maguey growing some thirty yards back. From it an easy slope, clear of trees but somewhat obstructed with cornfields near the bend, rose toward the southwest for about 600 yards and culminated in a ridge, which overlooked Tacubaya; while west of the ravine and a mile or so from Casa Mata stood the hacienda buildings of Los Morales.[1]