In the end peace came, for sooner or later it had to come; but nobody could have imagined the extraordinary course of events that was to bring it about, and for a long while it seemed impossible.
All the men of sense in Mexico recognized that she had neither physical nor moral strength enough to continue the struggle, but the majority of the nation were not sensible. The old influences operated still. Some could not forgive the outrages perpetrated by our volunteers; some wished so lucrative a war to continue; some dreaded the demoralizing effect of the millions coming from the United States, of which every politician and every military chief were sure to want as much as possible. Incorrigible vanity still ignored failures and offered iridescent hopes. Pride revolted against making terms while the invader’s foot pressed the sacred earth of the fatherland, and against the inevitable surrender of territory. At least, said not a few, we must wait until we make ourselves look formidable, so as to command respect; and this meant indefinite postponement.[1]
Our army still appeared insignificant; many of our troops were deserting, and some of the generals hated one another. Most of the people saw an American soldier or heard a word of English seldom, if at all. Almost everything went on as before. The people confessed their sins to the same priests, answered for their misdemeanors in the same courts, bribed the same officials, paid taxes to the same embezzlers, and were bullied by the same policemen in the same uniform. Evidently the Americans dared not use their advantage. On the other hand they were eager for peace. Doubtless they knew the war had few apologists in the United States, thought many, and realized that soon a change of administration would end it.[1]
A large section of the Puro party—a section which may be called for the present purpose Eventualists—felt, even though Santa Anna’s fall had removed one great objection to peace, that it was highly desirable to have the war continue until the old army should be virtually exterminated, or desired that at least we should hold the country until the military, clerical, political and social reforms desired by the Puros could be effected and public tranquillity be ensured. A larger number than ever craved annexation to the United States as the only guaranty of order and prosperity; and still others dared not advocate peace, lest they should be charged with lacking patriotism or touching “foreign gold.” Besides, had not the government, since the fall of the capital, announced that all damages resulting from hostilities would have to be made good by the United States? That did not seem like throwing up the sponge.[1]
In addition to these embarrassments many facts appeared to show that sensible, concerted action, even if generally desired, would be impossible. Political organization seemed to be dissolving. News of riots and insurrections came on every wind. Even the governor of México state was made a prisoner by malcontents. Many believed with reason that, like the Texas war, the present conflict had been used as a pretext for official extortion, and refused to pay taxes. The central government was regarded not infrequently as a common enemy. Unruly, vicious, greedy men—especially the unpaid army officers—plotted incessantly. Signs pointed to Indian uprisings, which the presence of the Americans encouraged. State decrees against an ignominious peace, and state governments that had not experienced the ills of invasion, barred the way of negotiation.[2]
Secessions looked highly probable. The Coalition of Lagos agitated constantly. The legally obliterated state of Aguas Calientes threatened to take up arms. Zacatecas made trouble about internal affairs. The Eventualists, or a large part of them, felt ready to smash the federal union into bits. The monarchists labored, not without success, to prove that a European king and European troops could save the nation. The Santannistas hoped to make the Prince of Spoilers dictator. Many of the Puros felt ready to join them in order to regain a share of the power, and a dull, subterranean rumbling satisfied not a few that Santa Anna would soon be supreme. Almonte, the implacable foe of peace, though now regarded by nearly every one as a cunning, selfish adventurer, seemed to many a useful tool; and his Presidential hopes found strong support.[2]
Among the Americans officers pessimism reigned. In point of time, wrote the commanding general, we may not be half through the war. Bankhead could observe no sign of peace. “Mexico is an ugly enemy. She will not fight—and will not treat,” said Webster. The venerable Albert Gallatin, scanning the horizon from his watchtower, discovered “hardly any hope” that peace would be concluded by Polk’s administration. With the capture of Mexico City the real difficulties of the Americans begin, thought Le Correspondant of Paris; and the London Times declared that we should have to drop the war or annex a country that would cost us more than its value.
PEACE NEGOTIATIONS REOPENED
The conditions threatened a long, expensive, demoralizing occupation of Mexico, leading almost inevitably to either our absorbing millions of undesirable aliens or our becoming involved in a general state of irritation and hostility liable to end in a national outburst of hatred and fury against us. To avoid these deplorable alternatives Polk thought of practically setting up a government with which to make peace. But such an organization—even if really feasible, which Polk himself doubted—would have required protection for a length of time that no one could forecast, would very likely have ended in the same dilemma as undisguised occupation, and, if at all successful, might have given the world a pretext for saddling Mexico’s future upon us. How to escape from the predicament Polk and his advisers discussed anxiously but without success.[3]
President Peña y Peña, however, supported by his Cabinet, by a group of true, honest patriots and by the Moderado party in general, determined to end the war; and Trist, who understood their sentiments, reopened the subject on the twentieth of October. Within a fortnight he was informed that Mexico desired peace, and would appoint commissioners in a few days. November 2 Congress met. Letters in favor of concluding the hostilities poured in upon the members and had their effect. The Puro-Santannista league attacked the government promptly on the ground of remissness in conducting the war, but a resolution calling upon the ministry to state what military steps it had taken failed by more than two to one. Senator Otero offered a motion, forbidding the authorities to consider the cession of any territory held without question by Mexico before the war; but this was rejected, to the surprise of all, by a vote of 46 to 29. Señor del Rio then summoned the administration to state whether negotiations with Trist had been resumed, and he also went down.[4]