An intrigue for peace, through the restored Santa Anna, was then a part of the war with Mexico from the beginning. They were simultaneous concoctions. They were twins. The war was made to get the peace. Ninety to one-hundred and twenty days was to be the limit of the life of the war, and that pacifically all the while, and to be terminated by a good treaty of indemnities and acquisitions. It is probably the first time in the history of nations that a secret intrigue for peace was part and parcel of an open declaration of war! the first time that a war was commenced upon an agreement to finish it in so many days! and that the terms of its conclusion were settled before its commencement. It was certainly a most unmilitary conception: and infinitely silly, as the event proved. Santa Anna, restored by our means, and again in power, only thought of himself, and how to make Mexico his own, after getting back. He took the high military road. He roused the war spirit of the country, raised armies, placed himself at their head, issued animating proclamations; and displayed the most exaggerated hatred to the United States—the more so, perhaps, to cover up the secret of his return. He gave the United States a year of bloody and costly work! many thousands killed—many more dead of disease—many ten millions of money expended. Buena Vista, Cerro Gordo, Contreras, Churubusco, Chepultepec, were the fruit of his return! honorable to the American arms, but costly in blood and money. To the Mexicans his return was not less inauspicious: for, true to his old instincts, he became the tyrant of his country—ruled by fraud, force, and bribes—crushed the liberal party—exiled or shot liberal men—became intolerable—and put the nation to the horrors of another civil war to expel him again, and again: but not finally until he had got another milking from the best cow that ever was in his pen—more money from the United States. It was all the natural consequence of trusting such a man: the natural consequence of beginning war upon an intrigue with him. But what must history say of the policy and morality of such doings? The butcher of the American prisoners at Goliad, San Patricio, the Old Mission and the Alamo; the destroyer of republican government at home; the military dictator aspiring to permanent supreme power: this man to be restored to power by the United States, for the purpose of fulfilling speculating and indemnity calculations on which a war was begun.
[CHAPTER CLXII.]
BLOODLESS CONQUEST OF NEW MEXICO: HOW IT WAS DONE: SUBSEQUENT BLOODY INSURRECTION, AND ITS CAUSE.
General Kearney was directed to lead an expedition to New Mexico, setting out from the western frontier of Missouri, and mainly composed of volunteers from that State; and to conquer the province. He did so, without firing a gun, and the only inquiry is, how it was done? how a province nine hundred miles distant, covered by a long range of mountain which could not well be turned, penetrable only by a defile which could not be forced, and defended by a numerous militia—could so easily be taken? This work does not write of military events, open to public history, but only of things less known, and to show how they were done: and in this point of view the easy and bloodless conquest of New Mexico, against such formidable obstacles, becomes an exception, and presents a proper problem for intimate historical solution. That solution is this: At the time of the fitting out that expedition there was a citizen of the United States, long resident in New Mexico, on a visit of business at Washington City—his name James Magoffin;—a man of mind, of will, of generous temper, patriotic, and rich. He knew every man in New Mexico and his character, and all the localities, and could be of infinite service to the invading force. Mr. Benton proposed to him to go with it: he agreed. Mr. Benton took him to the President and Secretary at War, who gladly availed themselves of his agreement to go with General Kearney. He went: and approaching New Mexico, was sent ahead, with a staff officer—the officer charged with a mission, himself charged with his own plan: which was to operate upon Governor Armijo, and prevent his resistance to the entrance of the American troops. That was easily done. Armijo promised not to make a stand at the defile, after which the invaders would have no difficulty. But his second in command, Col. Archuletti, was determined to fight, and to defend that pass; and if he did, Armijo would have to do the same. It became indispensable to quiet Archuletti. He was of different mould from the governor, and only accessible to a different class of considerations—those which addressed themselves to ambition. Magoffin knew the side on which to approach him. It so happened that General Kearney had set out to take the left bank of the Upper Del Norte—the eastern half of New Mexico—as part of Texas, leaving the western part untouched. Magoffin explained this to Archuletti, pointed to the western half of New Mexico as a derelict, not seized by the United States, and too far off to be protected by the central government: and recommended him to make a pronunciamiento, and take that half to himself. The idea suited the temper of Archuletti. He agreed not to fight, and General Kearney was informed there would be no resistance at the defile: and there was none. Some thousands of militia collected there (and which could have stopped a large army), retired without firing a gun, and without knowing why. Armijo fled, and General Kearney occupied his capital: and the conquest was complete and bloodless: and this was the secret of that facile success—heralded in the newspapers as a masterpiece of generalship, but not so reported by the general.
But there was an after-clap, to make blood flow for the recovery of a province which had been yielded without resistance. Mr. Magoffin was sincere and veracious in what he said to Col. Archuletti; but General Kearney soon (or before) had other orders, and took possession of the whole country! and Archuletti, deeming himself cheated, determined on a revolt. Events soon became favorable to him. General Kearney proceeded to California, leaving General Sterling Price in command, with some Missouri volunteers. Archuletti prepared his insurrection, and having got the upper country above Santa Fé ready, went below to prepare the lower part. While absent, the plot was detected and broke out, and led to bloody scenes in which there was severe fighting, and many deaths on both sides. It was in this insurrection that Governor Charles Bent, of New Mexico, and Captain Burgwin of the United States army, and many others were killed. The insurgents fought with courage and desperation; but, without their leader, without combination, without resources, they were soon suppressed; many being killed in action, and others hung for high treason—being tried by some sort of a court which had no jurisdiction of treason. All that were condemned were hanged except one, and he recommended to the President of the United States for pardon. Here was a dilemma for the administration. To pardon the man would be to admit the legality of the condemnation: not to pardon was to subject him to murder. A middle course was taken: the officers were directed to turn loose the condemned, and let him run. And this was the cause of the insurrection, and its upshot.
Mr. Magoffin having prepared the way for the entrance of General Kearney into Santa Fé, proceeded to the execution of the remaining part of his mission, which was to do the same by Chihuahua for General Wool, then advancing upon that ancient capital of the Western Internal Provinces on a lower line. He arrived in that city—became suspected—was arrested—and confined. He was a social, generous-tempered man, a son of Erin: loved company, spoke Spanish fluently, entertained freely, and where it was some cost to entertain—claret $36 00 a-dozen, champagne $50 00. He became a great favorite with the Mexican officers. One day the military judge advocate entered his quarters, and told him that Dr. Connolly, an American, coming from Santa Fé, had been captured near El Paso del Norte, his papers taken, and forwarded to Chihuahua, and placed in his hands, to see if there were any that needed government attention: and that he had found among the papers a letter addressed to him (Mr. Magoffin). He had the letter unopened, and said he did not know what it might be; but being just ordered to join Santa Anna at San Luis Potosi, and being unwilling that any thing should happen after he was gone to a gentleman who had been so agreeable to him, he had brought it to him, that he might destroy it if there was any thing in it to commit him. Magoffin glanced his eyes over the letter. It was an attestation from General Kearney of his services in New Mexico, recommending him to the acknowledgments of the American government in that invasion!—that is to say, it was his death warrant, if seen by the Mexican authorities. A look was exchanged: the letter went into the fire: and Magoffin escaped being shot.
But he did not escape suspicion. He remained confined until the approach of Doniphan's expedition, and was then sent off to Durango, where he remained a prisoner to the end of the war. Returning to the United States after the peace, he came to Washington in the last days of Mr. Polk's administration, and expected remuneration. He had made no terms, asked nothing, and received nothing, and had expended his own money, and that freely, for the public service. The administration had no money applicable to the object. Mr. Benton stated his case in secret session in the Senate, and obtained an appropriation, couched in general terms, of fifty thousand dollars for secret services rendered during the war. The appropriation, granted in the last night of the expiring administration, remained to be applied by the new one—to which the business was unknown, and had to be presented unsupported by a line of writing. Mr. Benton went with Magoffin to President Taylor, who, hearing what he had done, and what information he had gained for General Kearney, instantly expressed the wish that he had had some person to do the same for him—observing that he got no information but what he obtained at the point of the bayonet. He gave orders to the Secretary at War to attend to the case as if there had been no change in the administration. The secretary (Mr. Crawford, of Georgia), higgled, required statements to be filed, almost in the nature of an account; and, finally, proposed thirty thousand dollars. It barely covered expenses and losses; but, having undertaken the service patriotically, Magoffin would not lower its character by standing out for more. The paper which he filed in the war office may furnish some material for history—some insight into the way of making conquests—if ever examined. This is the secret history of General Kearney's expedition, and of the insurrection, given because it would not be found in the documents. The history of Doniphan's expedition will be given for the same reason, and to show that a regiment of citizen volunteers, without a regular officer among them, almost without expense, and hardly with the knowledge of their government, performed actions as brilliant as any that illustrated the American arms in Mexico; and made a march in the enemy's country longer than that of the ten thousand under Xenophon. This history will constitute the next chapter, and will consist of the salutatory address with which the heroic volunteers were saluted, when, arriving at St. Louis, they were greeted with a public reception, and the Senator of Thirty Years required to be the organ of the exulting feelings of their countrymen.