The deck and scrape the cable”;
and the cannon had to be rubbed with fragrant “sea pitch” from the bottom of the ocean until they shone like Japanese lacquer. Discipline, therefore, not reinforced by the enthusiasm and the necessities of war, fell considerably below its reputation, and the crews were eager to be free when their time expired. The officers, even, had become lax after thirty years of peace, and in too many instances their standards of conduct had given way.[2]
In the administration of the navy, also, the effects of a long peace could be seen. The control of matters had fallen, though not by accident, into the hands of shrewd officers deeply interested in themselves and their friends. Supernumeraries abounded. Those who drew the most pay often rendered the least service. The pet ambition was for a safe, quiet and easy position. Shore billets were too numerous. No field officer of the Marines had cruised since his promotion, and one of them had been in the service more than a generation without going to sea. Secretary Bancroft, eager for distinction, undertook to eliminate the abuses, but only succeeded in eliminating himself. He had taught Greek, and was ridiculed by the naval men as undertaking to play the pedagogue over them. Having no dominating force of character nor even a commanding presence, he could not stand against the governing clique. The requirements of the war, which might have assisted an abler administrator to win the day, only increased his difficulties. The Senate refused to confirm some of his appointees; and early in September, 1846, he became our minister to England.[3]
J. Y. Mason, who succeeded him, was a fat, easy, agreeable man, quite innocent of the desire to achieve reforms. Nobody disliked him, but nobody felt obliged to obey him; and as late as the twentieth of February, 1847, suddenly discovering that Scott had mentioned certain designs of the army against Vera Cruz, he awoke to the fact that his department had failed to give the anticipated assistance. Just what could be expected of the navy under all these prejudicial conditions was, therefore, in some minds, a little uncertain.[3]
PRIVATEERING
One of the most serious duties imposed upon it was to guard against privateering, for not only our commerce but the supplies required by our troops depended upon free lanes. About the middle of 1845 the government issued orders that any activity of such a kind on the part of Mexico should be considered the signal for war; and as a deterrent it was announced by the newspapers, though incorrectly, that privateersmen were to be regarded as pirates. Crews not predominantly composed of Mexicans, it was often asserted, could legally be “strung up to the yard-arm,” since we were understood to have treaties that sanctioned this principle with most countries.[4]
After the war actually began, a great deal of danger was apprehended. Desperate characters were believed to be waiting at New Orleans, and “piratical gangs” in the ports of Cuba, where Almonte seemed to be at work. News arrived early in August, 1846, that privateering regulations had been issued by Mexico, and suspicious craft soon appeared off Key West. In December the Mexican minister of war openly avowed that great hopes of injuring the United States in this manner were entertained. Blank certificates and commissions reached Washington; information regarding efforts to set vessels at work in various quarters arrived there; and finally the Carmelita of Bangor, Maine, was captured near Gibraltar by a felucca named El Unico, fitted out at Oran, Algeria, and run by Spanish desperadoes.[4]
Mexico had not in reality, after studying the subject with deep interest, much expectation of accomplishing any large results by issuing letters of marque, and the regulations of July, 1846, were intended principally or wholly to annoy this country; but in September and October she took the matter up rather seriously. A new law provided that any foreigner entering her naval service might become a Mexican at once, and blank naturalization papers as well as thousands of privateering commissions, duly signed but not filled out, were carried by agents to the West Indies, Great Britain, France and Spain. Almonte did his best at Havana. J. N. Pareda, appointed Mexican chargé d’affaires at Madrid, appears to have circulated the documents actively in the Peninsular ports; and another privateer, a Spanish steamer named La Rosita, put out from Oran.[5]
On the other hand, the representatives of the United States insisted upon our treaties and the obligations of neutrality. Polk’s annual Message of December, 1846, denounced the Mexican plan as inviting “all the freebooters upon earth,” who felt like paying for the privilege, to cruise against American commerce, announced that our own courts would say whether such papers could protect them from the pirate’s doom, recommended that Congress provide at once for the trial of Spanish subjects caught in such business, and suggested American privateers—intended mainly to recapture vessels taken under Mexican letters. An American force hastened to the Mediterranean, and our squadrons were expected to seize all the rovers putting out, as well as intercept all prizes on their way to the enemy’s ports. These precautions looked rather discouraging to enterprising desperadoes.[6]
In England there was a feeling, as will appear later, that Mexico should be allowed the utmost license against us, and the Mexican minister at London received many applications for letters; but Great Britain did not really wish her supplies of cotton to be endangered, and all the seas to be filled with corsairs preying upon the trade of the world; and in October, 1845, her minister to Mexico was instructed to prevent that country, if he could, from issuing letters of marque indiscriminately. Bankhead protested also, as did the Spanish minister, against important features of the regulations. Palmerston himself, though he acted in a languid fashion, and gave notice at Washington that British subjects, found on Mexican privateers, could not be treated as pirates, announced that his government would faithfully do its duty.[7]