“Morelas the illustrious
Immortal Hero.
In this house honoured by thy presence
Salute you the grateful people of Morelia.”
The revolution was seemingly crushed at the death of Morelas but a few patriots retired to the mountains, and there kept alive for better days the sacred fire of liberty. Guerrero was one of those heroes who showed an unwearying activity, and kept up a constant warfare upon the government forces. The next prominent name in succession among those leaders of the movement for freedom was Agustin de Iturbide, a former active and able officer of the royalist forces, and to whom more than anyone else was due the failure of Morelas. Deserting the cause of Spain, because he thought injustice had been done him, General Iturbide issued the “Plan of Iguala” on the 20th of February, 1820, composed of three articles: preservation of the Roman Catholic church; independence of Mexico under a monarchical form of government with a prince of the royal house of Spain as ruler; union and equality of Spaniards and Mexicans. From this proclamation his army became known as the army of the three guarantees. His act was full of duplicity, for he had obtained the largest force possible from the Viceroy Apodaca in order to turn them over to the new scheme.
Before the viceroy could recover from his surprise, Iturbide, who had been joined by most of the insurgent leaders, had started on his victorious campaign. Valladolid, Querétero and Puebla succumbed. The viceroy tried by suppressing liberty, and enforcing enlistments in the royal army, to stem the tide but in vain, and he was deposed. O’Donoju, the sixty-fourth and last viceroy, arrived about this time at Vera Cruz, but was intercepted by Iturbide and entered into the treaty of Cordoba in which the independence of Mexico was recognized with a sovereign to be selected from the royal house of Spain, and a provisional Junta formed. Iturbide was selected as president of this Junta, and made a triumphal entry into the City of Mexico on the 27th of September, 1821. This ended three hundred years of Spanish rule in Mexico. Iturbide had accomplished in a little more than a year, and with little bloodshed, what ten years of strife had failed to do. He can not be classed with Hidalgo and Morelas as a pure patriot, but he has been officially designated as the “Liberator of Mexico.”
The rejection of the treaty of Cordoba by the Cortes of Spain gave new impetus to the smouldering ambitions of Iturbide. The second Mexican Congress having been called, Iturbide at a packed session was declared Emperor by a majority of four to one of those voting, but not a constitutional majority, and he took the office as Agustin I. When he was crowned and anointed in the cathedral with much form and solemnity, on the 21st of July, 1822, the ambition of this self-made emperor had reached its full. The saying that uneasy lies the head that wears a crown never had better application than in this instance. Other leaders in the cause of liberty felt that they had been slighted, and every discontented person made common cause against the Emperor. A republic was proclaimed at Vera Cruz in December of the same year by Santa Anna, who was commander of a regiment stationed there, and he issued a pronunciamento. This plan failed, but it encouraged Bravo, Guerrero and other revolutionary leaders, and rebellion sprung up in a number of places. Iturbide had dissolved congress and this increased the dissatisfaction. A more formidable revolt arose, and on March 19th, 1823, Iturbide abdicated without attempting to retain his position by force of arms.
A few weeks later the ex-Emperor left Mexico and sailed for Italy, having been granted an annual sum of $25,000 for his services. He soon went to England and wrote the government from there that the republic was in danger, and he would come back to help fight the battles of his country. He did not know that his death had been decreed by congress, and so he set sail upon his last voyage. When he arrived at Vera Cruz he was captured, and after some delay was executed at Padilla on the 19th of July, 1824, as a traitor, in his forty-first year. His body was buried in a roofless old church and lay there until 1838, when it was removed to the Cathedral.
Opinion is very much divided as to the rank that should be accorded Iturbide. He was able, brave, honest so far as is known, and probably fell a victim to his ambition like many a man before him. The relative regard in which he is held is shown in the fact that the town which gave both him and his former vanquished foe, Morelas, birth, is now called Morelia, and a state is also named Morelas. In contrast to this there is neither city nor state named after Iturbide, and the famous Iturbide Hotel in the capital city, once his residence, is the only institution perpetuating his name so far as I could learn. The only things accomplished by him during his brief reign were the settlement of the titles by which he and his family should be addressed, the succession to the throne, order of precedence among the dignitaries, allowances of himself and family, and the creation of the Order of Guadalupe to bestow honours upon his followers.
At last a so-called republic was established, and Guadalupe Victoria was inaugurated as the first president on the 10th day of October, 1824, and served until 1828. When the fort of San Juan de Ulua at Vera Cruz lowered its flag, in 1825, the last vestige of Spanish power was gone, and the red and yellow striped banner of the Iberian peninsula was not to be seen on Mexican soil. And Mexico, as then constituted, was a big country, containing almost twice as much territory as to-day. From the end of the administration of President Victoria until after the death of Maximilian, there was not a year of peace in Mexico. Revolutions, pronunciamentos, “plans” and restorations followed each other in quick succession. Generals, presidents and dictators sprang up like mushrooms, and their position was as evanescent. The congress unwisely decreed the expulsion of the Spaniards, and their departure took much of the wealth of the country. Revolutions were an every-day affair. A man in position of authority did not know when his time to be shot might come. A sudden turn of fortune might send him either to the national palace, or before a squad of men with guns aimed at his heart.
A good illustration of this uncertainty of affairs is seen in the treatment and fate of the grim old patriot Guerrero. Born of very low Indian parents he had climbed to the front and borne many of the burdens of the struggle with Spain. He cheerfully yielded his command to the renegade Iturbide, and fought valiantly under that leader for liberty. By a turn of fortune he became the third president in 1829. A few months later he was compelled to flee, but was soon afterwards betrayed and captured at Acapulco. At a farcical trial he was condemned to death as “morally incapable” to act as president, and shot on the 15th of February, 1831, at Cuilapa. Soon afterwards he was declared a martyr and his body removed to the capital with honours. Two monuments to this martyr now adorn that city, and a state has been named after him. Under his short rule slavery was abolished by statute.
Elections eventually became a farce. The unfortunate habit was acquired of appealing to arms instead of submitting to the result of the ballot. The trouble was that the people had copied the letter, and not the spirit of the American constitution. Liberty was interpreted as license, after their exaggerated ideas of the former. The scheming politicians would hesitate at nothing—revolution or civil war—to attain private ends or personal aggrandizement. A general indolence of character, and the hindrances to the acquirement of property among the masses, made the people more willing to yield to disturbing and designing politicians. They are impetuous by nature, impatient of restraint and easily fired up. The rapid changes in government can be seen when you read that there were five different presidents in each of the years 1846 and 1847, and four in 1855—not an evidence of tranquillity at least. The two leading parties constantly at war were the “progresistas” and “retrogrados.”
During this period a few prominent names are constantly recurring, and by far the most prominent one is that of the notorious Santa Anna, who, for more than fifty years, occupied a prominent, but not always honourable, place in Mexican affairs. Earlier in life his restless energy was expended in a fairly commendable way, and he fought some battles in defense of the rights of the people. During the war of intervention with France in 1838 he lost his leg in the defense of Vera Cruz. Ever afterwards, when in trouble, he would flourish his severed limb and remind the people how he had been mutilated in the defense of his country, with the effect of restoring himself in public favour. As he grew older his naturally quarrelsome disposition increased, his vanity knew no bounds, and when at the height of his glory, he declared himself dictator and ordered all people to address him as “most serene highness.” Never honest except as a matter of policy, his cupidity became more pronounced, until, near the close of the war with the United States, he offered to appoint commissioners and confirm a treaty of peace for the sum of one million dollars. First elected president in 1833, he was again either chosen to, or assumed the office, in 1839, 1846, 1847, 1853 and 1855, but did not serve long at any time. On one occasion his amputated leg was buried with great ceremony, but afterwards fickle sentiment changed, and the martyr part of this hero was brought forth by the rabble, dragged through the streets of the capital, and insulting epithets heaped upon the former idol.