The history of Mexico, since the Spanish conquest, is a combination of the histories of European sovereignty and American republicanism.

Mexico was not among the discoveries of the great Columbus, though he approached Yucatan. That peninsula was first seen in 1517 by Cordova. In 1519 the famous Hernan Cortes landed on the site of Vera Cruz. After founding Villa Rica, he began his memorable march into the territory of Montezuma, King of the Aztecs. It cost him two years of desperate struggle to make good his ground; the Mexicans exhibited occasional bravery, and fought with the fervour of devotees to their king and their idols. But the novelty of the Spanish arms, the belief in an ancient prediction that “the kingdom was to be conquered from the sea,” and, above all, the indefatigable bravery of Cortes, finally established the supremacy of Spain.

The great source of calamity to Spain has always been its pride. The groundless sense of personal superiority in every thing belonging to Spain, its religion, its government, its literature, and its people, has, during the last four hundred years of European advance, kept Spain stationary. The country was pronounced to be perfect, and what is the use of trying to improve perfection? But the Spaniard pronounced himself as perfect as the country; and, therefore, what was the use of his adopting the inventions, habits, or intelligence of others? He disdained them all, and therefore continued the byword of ignorance, arrogance, and prejudice, to all nations. The troops of Cortes, and the gallant adventurers who followed them as settlers in the Spanish colonies, had descendants who soon began to form a powerful population. Among those, a government possessed of common sense would have found the natural support of the parent state. But the man of Spain scorned to acknowledge the equality even of the Spanish blood, when born in the colonies; and no office of trust, and no commission in the colonial troops, could be given to a Creole. The foundation of hostility was thus laid at once, and on it was raised a large superstructure.

Another race soon rose, the children of Spaniards by native women, the Mestizos. They, too, were excluded from all employments. The revolt of the United States would probably have applied the torch to this mass of combustible matter, but for the jealousy of the two races. As the men of Old Spain despised the Creole, the Creole despised the Mestizo. Thus the power of Spain remained guarded by the jealousies of both.

But a new period was at hand. The infamous seizure of Spain by Napoleon in 1808, roused both races to an abhorrence of the French name, and a determination to separate themselves from a kingdom which could now be regarded only as a French province. Again jealousy prevailed; the Creoles demanded a national representation, the Spanish troops and employés a royal government. In the midst of their disputes, a powerful enemy appeared. The Mestizos and Indians united under a village priest, Hidalgo, and overran the country. This incursion brought the disputants to a sense of their own peril; they collected troops, were beaten by the bold priest, rallied for another field, beat him, took him prisoner in the battle, and put him to death.

But the spirit of revolt had now become popular, and another priest, Morellos, was found to head another insurrection. His talents and intrepidity swept all before him for a period, and the “independence of Mexico” was declared by a “national assembly” in November 1813. But Morellos was finally unfortunate, was attacked by the Spanish general Colleja, who seems to have been a man of military genius, was taken prisoner, and shot. The Old Spaniards were once more masters, and Apodaca, a man of intelligence and conduct, was sent from Spain as viceroy.

But sudden tumults broke out in Spain itself. The “Constitution of 1820” was proclaimed, the parties in Mexico followed the example, and a constitution strongly tending to democracy was proposed. It produced a total dissolution of the alliance between the Creoles and the Old Spaniards, the former demanding a government virtually independent, the latter adhering to Spain. In the confusion, Iturbide, a young Creole of an ancient family, and of large possessions, pushed his way into power, and, to the astonishment of all Western republicanism, in 1822 proclaimed himself Augustin the First, Emperor of Mexico.

But he instantly committed the capital fault of quarrelling with his congress. By a rash policy he dissolved the assembly and appointed another, composed of his adherents. But Cromwell’s boldness required Cromwell’s abilities to sustain it. The army had been the actual givers of the throne, and what they had given they regarded themselves as having the right to resume. The generals revolted against Iturbide, overthrew him, proclaimed a new constitution, and sent him to travel in Europe on a pension!

The constitution thus formed (October 1824) was republican, and took for its model that of the United States. Its two assemblies are a senate and a house of representatives. The senate consisting of two members for each state; the representatives, of two for every eighty thousand inhabitants. All must be natives, and have landed property to the amount of eight thousand dollars, or some trade or profession which brings in ten thousand dollars annually. The congress sits every year from the first of January to the middle of April. The senators holding their seats for four years, generally; the representatives for two. The executive is vested in a president and vice-president, both elected by the state legislatures for four years. The ages of the several functionaries are curiously fixed. The representative must have attained the age of twenty-five, the senator of thirty, and the high officers of state thirty-five.[A] The whole territory forms one “Federal Republic, governed by one Executive,” a marked distinction between Mexico and its model; the several states of the American Union retaining to themselves many of the privileges which, in the Mexican, belong to the government of the capital.

[A] There have been some subsequent changes in these matters.