The session lasted virtually until January 11. The debates were hot, and they were bitter. To make use of the Church lands, it was argued, would invade the rights of property, lay upon one class of society the general burden, and, should the lands be sold, involve a tremendous loss of values, since there was little ready money in the country, and few would have the means and inclination to purchase. The country must be saved, answered Rejón, Juárez and their allies; is there any other resource?—point it out. “If the Yankee triumphs,” cried one speaker, “what ecclesiastical property or what religion will be left us?” And upon these principal themes were played an infinite number of variations in all the possible tones of Mexican eloquence and fury.[9]
Just before midnight on the ninth, however, the turmoil ceased; the handsome chamber of the Deputies became still. High above the throne in front glimmered pallidly the sword of Itúrbide; in letters of gold, on the semi-circular wall at the rear, all the names of the Beneméritos of Mexico reflected the subdued light; shadows filled the galleries; exhausted members half-slumbered in their chairs, and others talked wearily here and there in groups; but the stillness was momentous, for the first article of a new law had been passed, authorizing the Executive to raise fifteen millions, for the purposes of the war, by pledging—if necessary, even selling—property vested in the Church.[7] Minor discussions followed. The religious, charitable and educational work of the clergy was guarded completely; many provisions designed to hamper the realization of the main purpose were accepted in order to conciliate opposition; and at length, on January 11, the plan became law.[9]
A CRISIS AT MEXICO
“The crisis is terrible,” wrote the minister of relations two days later, and well he might. All the fierceness and intrigues of partisan politics, all the cunning of high and low finance, all the subtleties of priestcraft and all the terrors of a haughty Church came into play.[8] Freely we have received, but we will not give, and anathema to him who takes, was in effect the dictum of the prelates. For a time it looked as if no official would venture, at the peril of excommunication, to promulgate the law; but Farías and Juárez found a man, and he was appointed governor of the Federal District, in which lay the capital, for that purpose. Then came protests from the “venerable” clergy, complaints from state governments, mutinies of troops, and civilian insurrections organized by priests. Cries of “Viva la religión! Death to the government!” resounded in the streets of the capital. Ministers of state were hard to find, and they soon went out of office. Minor officials resigned so rapidly they could hardly be counted. Santa Anna, after hailing the law as the salvation of the country, turned against it. Moderados in Congress, encouraged by the outcry, hurled epithets harder than stones at the Puros.[9]
On the other hand some of the Deputies, the regular troops at the capital, who expected to profit by the law, the comandante general of Mexico, the National Guards and the democratic masses rallied to the support of the government; and Farías, his long head erect, and his face, always thoughtful and sad, now anxious but set, appealed to the patriotism of the nation, made the most of his authority as chief of the state, and held to his course with inflexible energy and courage. Not only was he determined to have the law respected, but he demanded that it should be made effective. Chaos was the result. “When we look for a ray of hope,” said El Republicano, “we discover nothing but alarms, anxieties and every probability of social dissolution.” Furious anarchy,” was Haro’s description of the scene. There must soon be a crash, he added; “the Devil is running away with us.”[9]
Peaceful interests were not, however, entirely forgotten amid this turbulence. During the second week of January Moses Y. Beach, proprietor and editor of the New York Sun, arrived at Vera Cruz from Havana. He carried a British passport. Besides his wife Mrs. Storms, a remarkably clever newspaper woman, accompanied him. Presumably she was to play the part of secretary, for Beach had large financial enterprises in mind, and confidential clerical assistance would certainly be necessary. For some reason letters were written from Cuba to Santa Anna and the authorities at Vera Cruz denouncing him as an American agent; and the party had to go through with a tedious examination of three days, for the comandante general had been expressly ordered to watch all suspicious foreigners hailing from the United States. But the ordeal was passed satisfactorily, and on the twenty-third or twenty-fourth of January Beach arrived at the capital. Letters from Roman Catholic prelates of the United States and Cuba gave him a confidential standing at once in the highest Church circles; his project of a canal across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec excited the lively interest of Santa Anna’s particular friends; and his plan for a national bank brought him into friendly relations with Farías and the other Puro leaders.[10]
Still, the presence of this agent of civilization did not restore tranquillity. On February 4 the government contrived by shrewd management to put a law through Congress, which in effect gave it autocratic power to raise five millions, and thus cut through the complications and restrictions that had rendered the action of January 11 substantially inoperative. The wrath of the Church blazed afresh. At all hazards Antichrist must be put down. Already they had concluded to supply Santa Anna with money, in return of course for his aid against Farías, and now they opened negotiations with the Moderados. This party, however, thought it would be good tactics to divide the Puros by supporting Farías, provided he would let them control his policy, and they so proposed; but the impracticable fellow, who was battling for principles and not place, declined the offer. Finally the Puros themselves, realizing that all the other factions were against their chief, decided that under his leadership they could not succeed, and resolved to throw him overboard.[11]
INSURRECTION AT MEXICO
While they were casting about for a method, a certain Person advised the clericals to offer an organized resistance against the laws of January 11 and February 4, and circumstances made that course easy. General Peña y Barragán, suspected of conspiring against the government, was placed under temporary arrest, and this made him eager to head a revolution. Farías, understanding that the Independencia battalion could not be trusted, ordered it to Vera Cruz, imagining that it would not refuse to march against the enemy. But on various more or less valid pretexts it did so; the other three élite battalions joined with it; and on February 27 they declared that Farías and Congress, having lost the confidence of the nation, had forfeited their authority, demanding at the same time the annulment of the “anti-religious” laws.[12] Amidst the ringing of bells and burning of gunpowder, the city echoed with the cries, “Death to Gómez Farías! Death to the Puros!” Cannon were soon at the street corners, and the usual scenes of a Mexican insurrection, fatal chiefly to peaceful residents, were presently on exhibition. The clergy, there is ample reason to believe, paid the costs, and priests left the confessionals to herald this new crusade in the streets.[13]