# The War with Mexico/Volume 2/Chapter 32

XXXII
PEACE
October, 1847-July, 1848
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
On the eleventh came the election of an interim President, and again the peace party triumphed. The opposition — which had found Almonte too unpopular, especially among the Santannistas — gave their votes to Cumplido, on the basis of an understanding that Santa Anna should neither be reinstated nor be put on trial, but Anaya was chosen by 42 against 31. About a week later the representatives of seven states met at Querétaro by invitation of the government, and after a desultory but illuminating discussion of nearly ten days agreed, with the exception of San Luis Potosí, to support a movement for peace. Even the war party felt the strength of the current.
Some action in that sense looked almost sure; and, as a new Congress was expected to assemble at the beginning of the year, the present members, partly in consequence of intrigues and partly from a fear of responsibility, slipped away in such numbers as to conclude the session, leaving the government a free field. The opposition then came to a head in an insurrection at Querétaro. But Anaya brought out artillery and some reliable troops, particularly 200 American deserters, and announced that he would not only fight in deadly earnest but make examples of the chief rebels. To the insurgents these ideas were novel and shocking, and they declined to play the game out. The road to peace then seemed to be open.
But the marplot had been at work. Finding he could not control Scott's policy with reference to the armistice and probably wishing to undermine the general-in-chief, Pillow had written to the President. Exactly what he said cannot be stated, but probably he described the armistice as a gross blunder, and accused our peace commissioner of acting as a tool of Scott for the injury of Polk's friends — especially Pillow; and on October 4 Polk ordered the recall of Trist. In his despatch Buchanan ​intimated that our envoy's presence might encourage the Mexicans to insist upon insulting terms, like those tendered by them on September 6, and — probably with a view to hardening our conditions — announced that Mexico must sue for peace at Washington. By the twenty-first came news that Scott had entered the capital, and that Trist had fallen short of obedience by intimating that possibly we might not insist upon the Rio Grande line. Polk's feelings grew hot as he reflected, and on the twenty-fifth a special messenger set out with a reprimand and a repetition of the order to leave Mexico. Both despatches reached their destination on the same day, November 16.
On receiving them Trist decided to inform the Mexican authorities of his recall and go home at the first opportunity. Indeed it seemed to him the best policy to return and lay before his government some of the information it lacked. But a special escort could not be spared, and, as no train was to go down until December 4, he could be deliberate. By Thornton, therefore, who was temporarily in charge of the British legation and set out for Querétaro the next day, he sent merely an informal notice of what had occurred, with a request that some proposal be sent on to Polk. By the day Thornton arrived (November 21) Mexican peace commissioners had been appointed; and Peña, minister of relations under the interim government, listened to his news with signs of emotion painful to witness. No Mexican felt ready to sue for peace at Washington, and Polk's demand signified the failure and political ruin of the peace men.
Peña took the ground that Trist's proposal to reopen the negotiations bound his government, and implored the chargé to urge upon him the sincerity and the difficulties of the Mexican authorities. He also begged Thornton for an intimation, to he used against the war party, that England could not be counted upon for assistance; and the chargé complied promptly with both requests. Fortified also by the action of Congress and the sentiment of the governors, and believing that in view of Mexico's present attitude the United States would shortly cancel its orders of recall, Peña then officially notified Trist that negotiators had been appointed.
Our commissioner now found himself in a most extraordinary position. Buchanan's letters of recall proved that peace was desired and the situation misunderstood by our Executive, but ​these facts could not obliterate certain others. Trist was not merely a private citizen but a discharged official under the frown of his government. Dealings with Peña could be described as traitorous. A warning against confidence in Mexican pretences and a notice that harder terms would now be exacted by the United States had been served upon him; and what those terms would be he could only imagine. Yet he fully believed in the sincerity of Peña and his associates. Thornton confirmed this opinion, and adjured him to improve the opportunity. No one on the ground could see any other way to peace. General Scott favored negotiating and probably expressed the opinion to Trist, as to Mexicans, that, should he make a treaty, it would be accepted by the United States. But on him, Nicholas P. Trist alone, it depended to say whether two nations were to be miserable or happy, to keep on cutting at each other's throats or enjoy the blessings of peace; and on him it rested to assume, should he take humanity and patriotism for guides, a most arduous task at the gravest personal risk and with no substantial profit in view. At noon on December 4 he decided aright, and it was a truly noble act.
Trist now had it intimated to the Mexican commissioners, that if they were disposed to accept a boundary line traced up the Rio Grande to thirty-two degrees of latitude and thence west, he would meet them privately to make further arrangements. The outcome was a strong recommendation from the Mexican commissioners, presented and urged by Thornton, that Peña consent. Peña did so; but he pointed out that it would be necessary to defer action until the new Senate should confirm the nomination of the commissioners. Encouraged, however, by advices from Thornton, Trist revoked his official notice that Polk had recalled him, and waited, with feelings that can be imagined, for the waters to move.
The negotiations stood in fact at a graver crisis than he thought. News that leading Whigs talked of settling with Mexico on terms far easier than Trist proposed caused hesitation at Querétaro, and fresh hopes of English assistance had a still greater effect. But fortunately Doyle arrived at this juncture to take charge of the British legation, and promptly directed Thornton to state that nothing more than good offices could be expected of his government. The support of these ​British diplomats, one at the capital and the other at Querétaro, proved most helpful; but then came Polk's Message, which encouraged the Eventualists by saying that, should Mexico continue the war, our protection might be given to any party able and willing to set up a republican government and make peace. Trist grew more and more anxious, and on the day after Christmas expressed his desire to proceed. In consequence of Doyle's attitude all Mexican scruples about the confirmation of the commissioners vanished. On January 1 their full "powers" reached the capital; and, beginning on the second, Couto, Cuevas and Atristain met there secretly with Trist almost every day. Rincón, the other member of the board, did not serve.
Trist was prepared to stimulate his colleagues with news that a sentiment in favor of pushing the war through without delay had now become pronounced in the United States. At the same time his letter of September 7 provided them with a most convenient position, for it maintained that all the districts now held by American troops were ours by right of conquest, and that by accepting our terms Mexico, instead of selling lands and population, would recover a large amount of both. He gave them, too, an agreeable surprise by proposing substantially the same terms as during the armistice.
They for their part knew California and all of Texas were lost; but their instructions were exacting, and they struggled for all conceivable advantages. Foreign arbitration and a European guaranty of the boundary were promptly demanded, and were as promptly refused. It was proposed that on the signing of the treaty all American forces in the country should retire to within fifty leagues of the coast; but this and other unreasonable conditions met the same fate. Anticipating sharp and captious criticism from opposing lawyers in Congress, the Mexicans devoted the most wearisome care to phraseology. Cordiality prevailed, however. Trist's good-will, self-sacrifice and courtesy received full recognition, and he seems to have been rather intimate with Couto, the ablest of his colleagues. Doyle and Thornton, though always respecting the line of strict neutrality, assisted materially in removing difficulties.
Trist felt intensely anxious to save time, and for good reasons. Orders might arrive any day — and eventually did arrive — making it absolutely impossible for him to act as an American ​representative. Scott was placed by his orders under a military obligation to drive the government from Querétaro, and though he granted a de facto truce, thinly disguised by occupying a few places and intimating a desire for new instructions, a positive despatch might at any hour end that state of things.
Yet day after day passed. The Mexican government and commissioners felt obliged to stick at everything and to confer often by letter. January 8 Anaya's term expired by limitation; and, as Congress had not assembled, his predecessor became once more the provisional executive. Four days later an abortive insurrection at San Luis Potosí frightened the timid Peña nearly out of his wits, for it seemed like the prologue of a revolution, and he demanded.that before signing a treaty he should have sufficient American funds to provide adequate support against malcontents; but at length his commissioners, insisting that such a proposal would be indecorous, eliminated this difficulty. Finally the government stopped short at the financial consideration. It asked for thirty millions, and our commissioner, in view of the expenses already caused by the protraction of the war, would give but fifteen. On the twentyninth of January, therefore, Trist, in very considerate but very positive language, officially declared the negotiation ended.
By arrangement, however, Doyle informed the Mexican commissioners that enough time to communicate once more with Querétaro would be given. Through the same channel they received a hint from Scott, that he would protect the authorities against the dreaded revolution, should a treaty be signed, but would otherwise have to dislodge the government, and thenceforth hunt it like a deer on the mountain. Doyle talked with British directness and good sense. The commissioners brought all this pressure to bear on their government. It yielded; and, on the second of February, at the suburb of Guadalupe Hidalgo, seat of the most venerated shrine in Mexico, in the profound secrecy that had shrouded all these negotiations, the treaty was at last signed.ref>12</ref>
By its terms Mexico appeared to sacrifice, independently of Texas, an immense area; but she really suffered little, for she had no grip — and deserved to have none — upon California and New Mexico. Indeed she had found those distant regions merely embarrassing. Nor did she really cede any territory. ​As Trist contended and our Supreme Court has in effect decided, the only cession was that made by the United States in surrendering districts then in our hands. Our real title was conquest—conquest from those who had taken the country by conquest from its conquerors. What Mexico granted us was peace and an acknowledgement of our title. In return we gave her not only peace, which meant vastly more to Mexico than to us, but extensive lands, the renunciation of all American claims antedating the treaty, and fifteen million dollars in money—
a wealth of gold that her treasury had never seen before. On both sides the treaty conferred benefits; on our part it was magnanimous; and to settle the matter in this way gave the United States a feeling of satisfaction worth all it cost.
The wish of the Mexican government had been to open the peace negotiations by making an armistice. To the Americans this could offer little advantage, for the only enemies they now had to fear were guerillas, and these recognized no laws. To Peña, on the other hand, it meant security from hostile expeditions, larger revenues, diminished expenses, Congressional ​elections in the territory under American control, and hence the political support of those who felt the burdens of war. But Scott, while ready to grant a virtual immunity from attack during the negotiations, was neither authorized nor willing to sign an armistice at that stage; and to have done so, indicating that peace was contemplated, would have endangered the plans of the Mexican government itself. In order, however, to bring about the execution of the treaty our commissioner had to demand of Scott a pledge that he would send out no more expeditions until new instructions, issued after the arrival of the treaty at Washington, should reach him. In short, he requested the General to disregard the orders of a government eager to put him in the wrong; and Scott, placing the public weal above all personal considerations, promptly consented.
The second article of the treaty provided expressly for a suspension of hostilities, and in view of its previous anxiety to obtain that concession, the Mexican government was expected to act in the matter at once; but it procrastinated so much as to excite suspicions of bad faith at the American headquarters. This conduct, however, was merely owing to its constitutional apathy; and on the twenty-second of February, 1848, Generals Mora and Quijano opened negotiations with Worth and Smith at the capital. True to the Mexican practice, followed on almost every occasion since the first of our dealings with Mexico, they began with what Doyle fairly characterized as "exorbitant"' demands. For example, they asked for the evacuation of the capital, Puebla, Jalapa and Vera Cruz, and for concessions incompatible with the treaty of peace itself.
But Worth and Smith, assuming promptly a just and firm attitude, as our civil officials ought to have done from the beginning, refused to consider such demands, and the Mexicans then withdrew them. Everything within reason, however, was granted. Doyle called the armistice, indeed, "very favourable" to the weaker side, and the ratification of it on March 4 and 5 by the Mexican and American commanders-in-chief supplemented happily the treaty of peace. Not only that, but it stopped for the time being every attempt at revolt, for under one of the articles insurgents were to be opposed by the armies of both nations. Paredes and Almonte found it wise to be quiet, and — as we have observed — Santa Anna sailed away. ​The treaty, conveyed with extraordinary speed, reached the White House on February the nineteenth, but whether it did well to arrive so soon — or even to arrive at all — appeared extremely doubtful. As we have learned, a strong appetite for territory had existed in the United States before the war, and Mexico had looked inviting. In January, 1846, Baker of Illinois suggested in Congress the absorption of that country. By the following July a somewhat organized annexation party existed at New York, and later Senator Dickinson became its champion. The wish to acquire soon became strong. Perhaps Moses Y. Beach visited Mexico in this cause. Certainly Mrs. Storms, who accompanied him, worked actively for it, and his paper ardently recommended annexation as not only advantageous for the United States but sure to benefit Mexico.
Other papers warmly took up this idea, arguing that Providence called upon us to regenerate her decadent population. "The Spanish have ceased to rule in Mexico," announced the Democratic Review as its watchword in February, 1847. Secessionists like Simms of South Carolina thought the proposed confederacy would need that country to give it bulk; and by a different route Senator Hannegan of Indiana, representing the strong expansionist sentiment of the West, arrived at the same point of view in regard to annexing Mexico.
The recall of Trist, which seemed to give the United States a free hand, and also the plan to extend our occupation of her _ territory, which logically pointed that way, strongly promoted the idea, for besides the obvious tendency of these measures they were supposed to mean that Polk had that end in view. The attitude of men high in the administration circle produced a similar effect. Bancroft held that we should "rescue a large part of Mexico from anarchy." Cass used language that suggested rescuing the whole, and followers of his talked that way explicitly. Apparently he thought he could win the next Presidential election on this issue; and the war party at his back offered Mexico as a reward for supporting its views. Buchanan, at first opposed to the acquisition of any territory, trimmed his sails to the rising breeze, and wrote that if Mexico did not conclude the war, it would be necessary for us to "fulfill the destiny" assigned to us by Providence. Walker, who knew ​more about the far southwest than any other man at Washington, favored annexation strongly, and even tried to drag the subject into his annual report. Indeed, the financial editor of the New York Herald saw in him the regenerator of Mexico; and very likely he himself, as head of the treasury, dreamed of winning immense economic triumphs in that field.
Soon after 1848 came in, the annexation cause began to put on a bold front. Naturally the younger element in the party and the country felt inclined to take it up. Crocodile tears were shed over the "poor foundling" — though a future heiress — placed by Divine Providence at our threshold. The danger that England or France might ravish it away from us came to the fore. Conquest was pronounced in the Senate a legitimate method of expansion. Orators in both Houses pointed more plainly toward an extension at the cost of Mexico. Declarations in the contrary sense indicated the force of the current. Senator Niles believed that substantially all of the Democrats among his colleagues would fall in with the plan. Enthusiastic citizens acclaimed it. Speculators fancied it would help their schemes in various ways. Capitalists believed that by stimulating enterprise it would enlarge and continue the demand for money. Manufacturers and high tariff men argued that it would increase the national expenses and therefore the duties. Army officers could see a wide field for them; and the opponents of slavery, led by the National Era, felt that Mexican plantations would draw away the negroes — now understood to be unprofitable — of Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia. Public meetings became excited on the subject. The country is going mad for Mexico, inferred Buchanan; and Walker believed that only a systematic newspaper agitation was needed to ensure success.
Polk moved in the same direction. In September, 1847, he concluded that, should the war continue, he might demand Tamaulipas and the line of thirty-one degrees, and reduce the compensation to fifteen millions; and before the end of January, 1848, he felt inclined to throw aside entirely the terms offered through Trist. Besides, he loathed the treaty on account of the man who made it and the man who gave assistance. After his recall, considering himself a private citizen, Trist reported with a free hand, criticising the President's recent Message as ​encouraging the Eventualists, and expressing his opinions on the business without much reserve. Naturally Polk the Mediocre, guided by Pillow the Cunning, totally misconceived the spirit of 'Trist and Scott. In his eyes they had contrived a wicked political "conspiracy" against Him, His administration, His party and His Pillow. Both had proved "utterly unworthy," and on January 25 the "arrogant, impudent" and "very base" Trist was ordered to leave headquarters. To accept, approve, endorse, recommend and support the work. of such a scoundrel seemed impossible.
But Polk had professed to be considerate and forbearing. toward our erring sister, and to seek only redress, indemnity, security and peace. His terms had been officially stated; and while his Message of December, 1847, had suggested that a continuance of the war might be expected to modify them, no real fighting had occurred since then, and — although Polk had known for about six weeks that negotiations on virtually the old basis were afoot — no modification of them had been announced. That Message had expressly disclaimed all thought of making "a permanent conquest" of Mexico; and on the fourth of this very February Sevier, chairman of the committee on foreign relations, had stated in the Senate that Polk was anxious for peace, desired only indemnity, and wanted to preserve Mexican nationality.
Trist had substantially embodied Polk's terms in the treaty, and had even anticipated his thought of reducing the compensation. Congress had voted men and money on the basis of Polk's professions and terms; and, should he now raise his demands, all his enemies would say their charges of greed, falsehood, injustice, o'ervaulting ambition and bloodthirsty wickedness had been proved. Hostilities might continue, the Whigs 'might carry the election, the war might end in disaster and ignominy, and all the gains now embodied in the treaty might be lost. Even should these perils be avoided, it seemed extremely doubtful whether Mexico would ever accept by treaty a more encroaching boundary, and quite possible that an endeavor to obtain it would open a long vista of expenses, guerilla warfare, foreign complications and Heaven only knew what. Extension toward the south was liable to kindle the fires of an anti-slavery agitation and ​perhaps disrupt the Union. The treaty and the victories that it consummated meant enough glory for any President. Finally, Polk, now moving about with dragging steps, dry, brown face, gray hair and sunken eyes, perhaps felt weary of battling both abroad and at home; and at the very least, should he endorse this paper and lay it before the Senate, his responsibility would cease.
Buchanan and Walker opposed the treaty; but the former, as well as Polk himself, recognized that any personal misconduct of Trist, a mere agent of the Executive, had no proper bearing on the question. The rest of the Secretaries favored pacing the document before the Senate. On February 22, after full debates in the Cabinet, Polk did this, recommending by implication the acceptance of it; and so a paper which had been simply a memorandum drawn up by a private American citizen and several Mexicans holding official positions, became a real treaty, merely awaiting confirmation.
Among the Senators the treaty met with jeers and scowls. "Great Jehovah!" exclaimed Lieutenant W. T. Sherman on learning its terms; it is "just such a one as Mexico would have imposed on us had she been the conqueror"; and so thought a number of the Senators. It is a mere piece of waste paper, cried many; the impudent, perhaps traitorous, work of a discredited agent, whom the President had ordered out of Mexico; and it would be undignified, ridiculous, degrading, to accept such a thing. The war party opposed it. The annexationists opposed it. The no-territory men opposed it. The Little Unionists, who thought the country too big already, opposed it. Not a few hated to think of letting Polk elude them so easily.
But suddenly the head of John Quincy Adams, as he sat in the House, dropped. He was borne to the Speaker's room. "This is the last of earth; I am content,'? murmured the venerable statesman. For two days he lingered, unconscious; and then he passed away. This tragic event had a deep effect. There fell a hush, as when snow descends upon the city pavement. The sessions of Congress were suspended. Senators were prevented from announcing their positions hastily. And when discussion began once more, it was resumed with a new feeling of seriousness, a new sense of responsibility. ​If the President could put up with Trist and his work, surely the Senate could, one began to think; and in every way Polk's virtual endorsement gave the paper enough respectability. Politics played a leading rôle in almost every mind, but after a little it seemed like bad strategy to vote against the glory and the territory ensured by its terms. The committee on foreign relations, which decided to throw the treaty aside and send an "imposing" commission to do the work over, dropped the scheme when Polk told them bluntly this would be "worse than an idle ceremony." Benton, thoroughly angry at the administration because Frémont, his son-in-law, had been condemned for insubordination in California; Berrien, wedded to his "no-territory" idea; Corwin, anxious perhaps to have more Americans find hospitable graves in Mexico; Webster, who asserted that California and New Mexico were "not worth a dollar"; and certain other Senators, committed for this or that reason, were beyond argument; but all their hopes failed.
The deep current set against them. "What better can we do?" became an unanswerable argument for the treaty. The people wanted peace. They desired no more bloodshed, no more costs. One could not be sure of obtaining another treaty from chaotic Mexico, or sure that any treaty differing from the present one could have as good a chance in the American Senate. To reject the work of Trist was understood more and more clearly to involve, perhaps, not only interminable fighting, but a train of moral, political, industrial, commercial and financial ills of which no one could see the end. Already enough generals had built up reputations, thought many of the politicians. It would be of priceless advantage, urged some of the finer men, to supplement our military triumphs with a great act of magnanimity. By March 7 ratification, which had been for a time extremely doubtful, appeared probable. Houston of Texas, a leading opponent, concluded to visit New Hampshire. And on the tenth by 38 against 14 — a narrow margin, since a majority of two-thirds was requisite — the treaty won. A transfer of four votes from the affirmative to the negative would have defeated it.
There were a few amendments. Article X, which might have revived extinct Mexican claims to lands in Texas now occupied by bona fide settlers, went overboard at once. The ​provision of security for the Roman Catholic church in the acquired territory (Art. IX) fell out as unnecessary, as reflecting on the good faith of the United States, as suggesting government interference with religious affairs in this country, and as tending to confirm the Mexican pretence that we entertained hostile feelings toward that communion. The Senate refused to agree that California and New Mexico should be made into states "as soon as possible" (Art. IX), regarding that as a step to be taken with deliberation, and only when, in the judgment of Congress, all the prerequisites of statehood should exist. Instead of allowing Mexico to choose between payment by instalments and payment in securities convertible at once into cash (Art. XII) it was decided to offer only the former method, as a veiled hint that an infraction of the treaty would cause a suspension of the instalments. Another amendment permitted the Indians to have firearms, which, as they lived by the chase, had to be done. A further modification, intended to hasten the conclusion of peace, authorized the exchange of ratifications at Querétaro whenever Mexico should accept the amended treaty; and it was also provided by the Senate that evacuation could then begin. [Finally a secret article, which permitted Mexico to consummate the ratification of the agreement at any time within eight months, instead of the four months of Article XXIII, was cancelled, because it seemed to encourage procrastination, and allow her time to escape from the treaty, while compelling us to bear great expenses. But none of these changes touched the essentials.
It now became necessary to have some one explain the amended treaty to Mexico, bring about her acceptance of it, and, should it be confirmed, exchange the ratifications. This gave Polk a chance to prove himself a large man. Scott, though not without serious grounds of offence against Hitchcock, Harney and Quitman, had forgiven and honored them, because they deserved well of the country. Trist, the bringer of peace, the negotiator of its terms, high in the favor of the Mexican government, and able to exert much influence on the Mexican Congress, deserved the appointment. If the treaty represented a great national service and had merit enough to be accepted, its maker had merit enough to be recognized. But the President was only Polk the Mediocre after all. His plumage had ​been ruffled; and instead of giving Trist this high and lucrative post, he relegated the peacemaker to a dishonorable oblivion, and would not even pay him for the time actually spent in the negotiations. To think that a President of the United States could be so small!
Aside from this petty meanness and spite, however, Polk selected a man worthy, both personally and officially, of the position. This was Sevier, chairman of the Senate committee of foreign relations and leading champion of the treaty in that body. Then, as Sevier became suddenly though temporarily ill and no delay could be risked, Clifford, the attorney general, was appointed associate commissioner with equal powers; and eventually the two — both arriving at Mexico by the fifteenth of April — acted in concert.
Mexico now became the scene of action again. February 6 the government announced what had been done about peace. Knowing how loud an outcry had been raised against even considering a treaty, one can imagine what occurred, now that a treaty had been made. The old objections were reiterated. Trist's lack of authority was dwelt upon. Secret, despotic, illegal, treasonable, shameful, ruinous, were a few of the everyday epithets that bombarded the government. It had no power to alienate Mexican territory. It should have waited for the American friends of peace to act. Even "the sepulchral comfort" of temporary subjugation was described as preferable to such a peace. "Approval of the treaty," exclaimed Rejón, "is the political death of the Republic." Another insurrection broke out at San Luis Potosí, and all the comandantes general were notified to expect revolts.
The peace men, however, stood firm. Honor has been saved, they insisted. The United States has recognized Mexico as an independent nation. There has been no suing for terms at Washington. 'Territory has been regained, not sold. To speak properly, indeed, this is a "treaty of restitution"; fifteen millions are to be paid for injuries done us; the territory acquired by the United States costs her more dearly than Louisiana; and full rights have been secured for all Mexicans adopted by another government. Whatever harshness can be found in the conditions is due to the circumstances, not the government. War has no respect for justice. Besides, in case of need a nation, ​like an individual, may find amputation expedient, and be the stronger for it. Above all, the administration has merely done its duty in treating according to its best judgment. It has determined nothing, settled nothing. The facts of the case will be laid before Congress, and the representatives of the people shall decide.
Here, then, came the real crisis: would Congress ratify the treaty? At Washington, in spite of some encouraging reports, the impression gained ground that it would not. The amendments appeared to cause little excitement, but they were not the real issues. Opponents of peace had the speeches of American statesmen printed, and hawked them about the streets. Prudent Mexicans demanded an end of the uncertainty, disorder and chaos that was paralyzing the country; but so had they always demanded it. The government exhibited little activity, while the Puros and the friends of Santa Anna did not sleep. The especially important elections in the occupied territory did not end until April 23, and by that date one could see that something else was to be feared even more than opposition. As on every other occasion demanding a patriotic stand, most of the decent men felt afraid to assume responsibility. Another difficulty was that money for their travelling expenses had customarily been advanced to the members by the government, and now it had no money for the purpose. Finally, however, said an American who did not precisely understand the affair, merchants at the capital subscribed a large sum to hunt up the Congress and feed it long enough to ratify the treaty; severer measures also were taken to ensure attendance; and early in May a quorum of shaking legislators convened.
In opening Congress Peña stated the grand question ably. Honor, union, independence and the hope of national prosperity and felicity have been saved, he pointed out; the United States made the proposals, and Mexico has obtained all the advantages possible under the circumstances; we have given up some territory, but the foremost nations of the world have done the same at one time or another; every one sees that we should have adjusted our difficulties in 1845, but it is now possible once more to settle them, and the opportunity to do so should not again be lost. The ministers of war and finance presented statements proving the impossibility of continuing the war successfully, ​and the peace commissioners justified the terms of the treaty. The prospect of recovering the Mexican customhouses and receiving the American millions looked highly attractive. No less telling, doubtless, were the preparations of the United States to resume hostilities with fresh energy, and to tax Mexico rigorously. The most efficient American army that had yet been seen in the country awaited Butler's orders, and large reinforcements had been voted by Congress. No responsible men in their senses could resist such arguments. The treaty, as amended by the American Senate, was promptly ratified, and by June 9 Washington had the news. With all speed it ran from city to city, from town to town, from vale to vale; and everywhere it was greeted with quiet but heartfelt rejoicings.
By an arrangement already made, Sevier and Clifford, after learning what had been done by the Mexican Congress, proceeded to the seat of government. It was a tiresome journey of about 145 miles; but at last, from the summit of a high ridge, they saw domes and spires two miles or so distant, glittering on a low eminence in a fine valley, which was enclosed by parallel ranges of mountains. The town was Querétaro; and on May the twenty-sixth, in the President's rather plain reception room, dignified with crimson curtains and with chairs of state, Clifford presented their credentials.
Peña, tall and benign though sadly worn, Rosa, the minister of relations, rather short and swarthy but with large, thoughtful eyes lighting up his countenance, and Anaya, the minister of war, tall and gaunt, with high cheek bones and a face of Indian stolidity, received them with all due courtesy. "Sister republies, may the two countries ever maintain the most friendly relations," was the American greeting; and Peña replied, "As the head of this nation, I desire nothing more ardently than that our treaty may prove the immutable basis of that constant harmony and good understanding which should prevail sincerely between the two republics." Conversations and formalities ensued, and on May 380 an exchange of the ratifications concluded this momentous business."
In the execution of the treaty a few misunderstandings arose, but none of serious importance; and the minister of relations attested the good faith of the United States. Orders for the evacuation of Mexican territory were promptly given to our ​commanders in the various fields of operation, and were promptly obeyed. Even before the last formalities occurred, in fact, Butler called in his outposts, and as the sun rose on the twelfth of June it shone upon the arms of his rejoicing troops, drawn up facing the palace in the grand plaza of the capital. Housetops, balconies and the near streets were full, but perfect order and stillness prevailed except for the sharp commands of our officers. Thirty guns saluted the American banner on the palace, and then it was lowered. The Mexican flag took its place on the staff and received the same honors. An American band struck up gaily. The unconquered ranks wheeled, marched and left the city. Herrera, the new President, returned to the chair from which Paredes had ejected him, and the proud capital rejoiced to be free once more. But it rejoiced soberly. "I question," said U. S. Grant, "whether the great majority of the Mexican people did not regret our departure as much as they had regretted our coming."
The plan of evacuation was to let the troops wait near Jalapa until transports could be provided and their baggage go aboard, and then march to the unhealthy coast and sail away as quickly as possible. For some time General Smith had now been making preparations at Vera Cruz with his characteristic efficiency; and soon the army, the sick, the wounded and the many who attended to their needs, took ship rapidly for New Orleans. By the twelfth of July more than 25,000 embarked, and on the last day of the month all the fortifications of Vera Cruz and frowning Ulúa, the symbol of Mexican pride, were given up. Stirred by feelings deep and strong, the departing soldiers looked round them with a farewell gaze — at the low white walls, at the exotic vegetation that had now come to be familiar, and at the gleaming, snowy peak of Orizaba, towering above its belt of dark evergreens. They had trodden the soil of that wonderful country with the stern, proud foot of the conqueror, but they now left it full of sympathy and good wishes; and one of. the number put his feelings into terse and soldierlike rhymes:
"The stranger parting from the shore, Thy glories to behold no more, Bids thee farewell with swelling heart As his swift bark leaps o'er the sea, And, as the truant tear-drops start, Prays God that thou mayst yet be free."
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