Justin H. Smith - The Mexican-American War (Vol. 1&2)

In November Martínez, a new minister to the United States, whom we received kindly even though Gorostiza’s action had not been disavowed, presented the answer of his government. Instead of the document officially transmitted by Greenhow, an obsolete, incomplete and necessarily inaccurate list of our claims, obtained nobody knows how, had been used; only four of our fifty-seven living cases had even been considered; and not one of these had been disposed of. Accordingly, when our Congress assembled in December, 1837, the Executive laid the whole subject before it anew, analyzed Mexico’s evasive reply—so different from what had been solemnly promised—announced that fresh outrages of a serious and exasperating sort had been committed, and plainly intimated that no hope of a peaceful settlement could be entertained. Evidently the patience of the United States had nearly come to an end; but before Congress was ready to act, Martínez proposed a scheme of arbitration, which—though formally decided upon by Mexico in May, 1837—it had apparently been her deliberate purpose to hold in reserve until all other dilatory tactics should have been exhausted.35

Naturally our government hesitated to adopt a plan which, as the British representative at Mexico wrote when he heard of it, was precisely the one to “gratify the favourite object” of our debtors—“the gaining of time and postponement of the day of reckoning”; but in April, 1838, quite unlike France and much to the surprise of Mexico, we accepted arbitration, and it then appeared that Martínez had no powers to act in the matter. For months, indeed, although our consul at Mexico was assuring that government of our fair and friendly disposition, he did not receive them.36

In September, 1838, however, a convention was signed. Martínez stated that it would not have to be ratified by the Congress of his country, but her President ruled otherwise, and then with an extremely poor excuse did not submit it. So the time limit arrived; and, to the intense disgust of our people and administration, the agreement lapsed. The poor excuse was accepted by our government, however, and in April, 1839, after two years had thus been frittered away, another convention was made, providing that each country should name two commissioners, and the king of Prussia select a fifth person to be an umpire; and as Mexico disavowed Gorostiza’s conduct in circulating the offensive pamphlet, our patience appeared to be rewarded.37

In the opinion of Pakenham, British minister at Mexico, the arbitration arrangement was “a very fortunate circumstance” for the debtor nation, and one that she ought to observe scrupulously; but the minister of relations, without even a poor excuse, failed to consider seriously the appointment of commissioners until a few days before the treaty required them to be in Washington, and consequently the agreement expired. Mexico, however, could not well take advantage of this fact; the United States waived it; and on August 25, 1840, nearly two and a half years after we had accepted arbitration, the joint commission was organized. The representatives of Mexico were Señores Castillo and León, one of whom, being unfamiliar with business, fell under the control of his colleague, while the other was described by Pakenham as conspicuously dishonest. In eighteen months from that date, according to the treaty, the labors of this body were to end. To kill time was, therefore, to kill claims—or at any rate bury them.38

When the subject of the commission was discussed in 1838, Forsyth took the ground that it would be a judicial body, guided solely by the evidence before it; and this principle was apparently accepted as fundamental. Webster, now the secretary of state, pointed out that it was essentially and necessarily such a tribunal. The Mexican commissioners, however, had been ordered to act, not freely according to the evidence, but according to the instructions of their government; and moreover they promptly refused to let the claimants present themselves either in person, by attorney or in writing. Some four months were spent in discussing objections raised by them, and finally, in order to get something done, the American representatives found it necessary to give way. Yet the sailing was not smooth even then. Castillo and León resorted not only to dilatory tactics and unfair methods, but even to express falsehood; and their government violated in a signal manner one of the most fundamental stipulations of the treaty. In short, if we may believe the apparently fair statement of the American commissioners, the Mexicans caused delays that prevented the adjustment of claims amounting to more than five millions, and pursued a course in general that excited great indignation throughout this country. Meanwhile, as our philo-Mexican minister, Thompson, reported, “The rights of American Citizens of every grade and character” were still subjected to “constant outrage.”39

In spite of everything, however, some two millions—in 1841 a substantial amount—were awarded, and at once Mexico set at work to devise a scheme for evading the obligation. Urgent advice from the British minister discouraged this plan, however; and finally a new convention was made in January, 1843, expressly for the convenience of our debtor, by which the amount with interest was to be paid within five years, counted from the following April, in equal quarterly instalments of cash. “Such indulgent terms,” was Pakenham’s description of the arrangement. Both governments ratified it; and so after these many years of patience and effort on the one side, evasion and sometimes dishonesty on the other, compensation for a portion of our grievances began to be received. But—after all, Mexico paid only three instalments. At that point she broke her word, and stopped.40

For her course in this matter there seem to be only two conceivable excuses; her embarrassed condition and her irritation over the Texas affair. With reference to these it must be said that her condition was itself inexcusable, and at the utmost did not incapacitate her for doing all that we demanded; while her irritation was essentially unfounded, and, even had it been reasonable, would not have justified her making promises and agreements only to break them, or resorting in other ways to dishonorable methods.41

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In 1843 our decisive difficulty with Mexico began to take shape. The annexation of Texas to the United States was on legal, moral and political grounds entirely legitimate. That republic had defied the arms of the mother-country for nine years. It was recognized as an independent nation by the leading commercial powers of the world; and no well-informed person, even in Mexico, dreamed that it would return to its former connection. To be sure, her pretensions were asserted in 1845 as loudly as ever; but she made them ridiculous by declaring that never, under any circumstances, would the independence of her rebellious daughter be conceded. Besides, Mexico had practically acquiesced in the recognition of Texas by our own and other governments; and, in view of this fact, as good a lawyer and statesman as Daniel Webster, though opposed to incorporating that country in the Union, held that our doing it gave Mexico no ground of complaint. 1

Annexation was therefore permissible, and grave national interests of the United States appeared to demand the step. All northern Mexico, including California, seemed liable to secede, for the people of that whole region felt profoundly dissatisfied with the administration of their national affairs, and realized the urgent need of a strong and orderly government; there was reason to believe that Sam Houston, the President of Texas, thought of organizing under European auspices a southwestern empire, absorbing Oregon, and thus offsetting the United States; as A. J. Donelson, our minister in Texas at that period, wrote in 1848, “He was not mistaken. This he could have done”; and in that event we should have had a bold, ambitious rival in the rear. The anti-slavery agitation in the United States led many of our southern citizens to long for separation and a union with slaveholding Texas. The possibilities of Texan cotton production, stimulated by the English, who were eager to be independent of the American fields, were keenly dreaded. The logic of the situation seemed likely to render Texas not only a commercial and industrial competitor and a rancorous political enemy, but a source of dangerous complications with Mexico, England and France. Finally, the British, who possessed a powerful influence in her councils and in those of Mexico, were deliberately endeavoring to shape matters in such a way as to do very serious harm, it was believed, to the interests of the United States. Under such conditions no one could reasonably complain because we undertook, employing as means only argument and persuasion, to acquire that important and valuable territory, and ward off these apparently imminent dangers. Albert Gallatin, who opposed our taking the step, wrote later that it was “both expedient and natural, indeed ultimately unavoidable.” 1