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

Of course the discovery that rank and pay did not depend upon deserving them set every corrupt officer at work to get advanced, while it drove from the service, or at least discouraged, the few men of talents and honor; and as all subordination ceased, a general not only preferred officers willing to further his dishonorable interests, but actually dreaded to have strong and able men serve in his command. In 1823 the Mexican minister of war reported to Congress, “Almost the whole army must be replaced, for it has contracted vices that will not be removed radically in any other way,” and four years later a militia system was theoretically established with a view to that end; but the old organization continued to flourish, and in April, 1846, the British minister said, “The Officers ... are, as a Corps, the worst perhaps to be found in any part of the world. They are totally ignorant of their duty, ... and their personal courage, I fear, is of a very negative character.”5

In 1838, a German visitor stated there were a hundred and sixty generals for an army of thirty thousand, and this was perhaps a fair estimate of the usual proportion; but out of all these, every one of whom could issue a glowing proclamation, probably not a single “Excellency” could properly handle a small division, while few out of thousands of colonels could lead a regiment on the field, and some were not qualified to command a patrol. A battle was almost always a mob fight ending in a cavalry charge; and Waddy Thompson, an American minister to Mexico, said he did not believe a manoeuvre in the face of the enemy was ever attempted. Naturally the general administration of military affairs became a chaos; and, worst of all, a self-respecting general thought it almost a disgrace to obey an order—even an order from the President.5

The privates and non-commissioned officers, on the other hand, mainly Indians with a sprinkling of half-breeds, were not bad material. The Indians in particular could be described as naturally among the best soldiers in the world, for they were almost incredibly frugal, docile and enduring, able to make astonishing marches, and quite ready—from animal courage, racial apathy or indifference about their miserable lives—to die on the field. But usually they were seized by force, herded up in barracks as prisoners, liberally cudgelled but scantily fed, and after a time driven off to the capital, chained, in a double file, with distracted women beside them wailing to every saint. When drilled enough to march fairly well through the street in column, clothed in a serge uniform or a coarse linen suit, and equipped with an old English musket and some bad powder, they were called soldiers, and were exhorted to earn immortal glory; but naturally they got away if they could, and frequently on a long expedition half a corps deserted.5

Such men were by no means “thinking bayonets,” and as a rule they shot very badly, often firing with their guns at the hip in order to avoid the heavy recoil. Not only did they lack the inspiration of good officers, but in pressing times it was customary to empty the prisons, and place their inmates in the ranks to inculcate vice. The government furnished their wages, upon which as a rule they had to live from day to day, even more irregularly than it paid the officers, and the latter frequently embezzled the money; so that it became a common practice to sell one’s arms and accoutrements, if possible, for what they would bring. Finally, the duty always enjoined upon the troops was “blind obedience,” not the use of what little intelligence they possessed; and their bravery, like that of such officers as had any, was mainly of the impulsive, passionate and therefore transient sort, whereas Anglo-Saxon courage is cool, calculating, resolute and comparatively inexhaustible.5

The special pride of all military men was the cavalry; but the horses were small, and the riders badly trained and led. “The regular Mexican cavalry is worth nothing,” wrote the British minister early in 1846; and as the mounts were quite commonly hired merely for the parades, just as the rolls of the whole army were stuffed with fictitious names on which the officers drew pay, it was never certain how much of the nominal force could be set in motion. As for the artillery, Waddy Thompson remarked that in a battle of 1841 between the foremost generals of the country, not one ball in a thousand reached the enemy. On the other hand there were excellent military bands, and one of them dispensed lively selections every afternoon in front of the palace at Mexico.5

Third in the official order of precedence and in the actual control of affairs came the government officials, and these, like the army and the clergy, formed a special group with a similar fuero, a similar self-interest and a similar disregard for the general good. Once appointed to an office one had a vested right therein, and could not legally be removed without a prosecution. To eliminate a person in that manner was extremely difficult; and when the government, in a few notorious instances, tried ejectment, the newspapers of the opposition hastened to raise an outcry against it for attacking property rights, and the culprits were soon reinstated.5

Offering such permanence of tenure, a “genteel” status, idleness even beyond the verge of ennui, a perfect exemption from the burden of initiative, and occasional opportunities for illegitimate profits, government offices appealed strongly to the Mexicans, and a greed for them—dignified with the name of aspirantism when it aimed at the higher positions—was a recognized malady of the nation. To get places, all the tricks and schemes employed in the army and, if possible, still more degrading intrigues were put in play; and offices had to be created by the wholesale to satisfy an appetite that grew by what it fed upon. The clerks became so numerous that work room—or rather desk room—could not be provided for all of them. Only a favored portion had actual employment and received full pay—if they received any—while the rest were laid off on barely enough to support life. Some were competent and willing to be faithful; but when they saw ignorance, laziness, disloyalty and fraud given the precedence, they naturally asked, Why do right? Idleness is the mother of vice; and so there was a very large body of depraved and discontented fellows, wriggling incessantly for preferment, fawning, backbiting, grabbing at any scheme that would advance their interests, intensely jealous of one another, but ready to make common cause against any purification of the civil service.5

How justice was administered in Mexico one is now able to surmise. The laws, not codified for centuries, were a chaos. Owing to numberless intricacies and inconsistencies, the simplest case could be made almost eternal, especially as all proceedings were slow and tedious. A litigant prepared to spend money seldom needed to lose a suit. Some cases lasted three generations. The methods of administering justice, reported the British representative in 1835, “afford every facility” for “artifices and manoeuvres.”6

Another difficulty was that the courts lacked prestige. During the revolution the magistrates, practically all of them Gachupines, committed so many acts of injustice in behalf of the government, that people forgot the proper connection between crime and retribution. Punishment seemed like a disease that any one might get. In 1833 the minister of this department complained that for five years Congress had almost ignored the administration of justice; and in 1845, the head of the same department said that for a long time the government had systematically reduced the dignity and influence of the judges and magistrates. Their pay was not only diminished but often withheld; and the official journal once remarked, that the authorities had more important business in hand than paying legal functionaries.6