OCTOBER–NOVEMBER 1846
Santa Anna was too good a politician to be deceived by the lavish reception accorded him as he entered Mexico City. He knew that his followers had engineered the celebration, and he was keenly aware of the prevailing disorder and discontent. The unpleasant incident that had marred his arrival at Veracruz had sobered him. But the Mexicans were united in their hostility toward the Americans, so Santa Anna decided, perhaps by instinct, to exploit that unity for his own ends. He placed governmental administration in the hands of General José Mariano Salas and reassumed his role as his country’s military defender. With his customary energy, Santa Anna began organizing the units around the capital into a new army, then hurriedly prepared to march northward. As early as September 28, 1846, he led his small army through the gates of Mexico City, headed for San Luis Potosí. There he would base operations against Taylor in the north.
Santa Anna received his first word of Ampudia’s surrender when he had been on the road one day, and he soon began meeting deserters from Ampudia’s force. In doubt as to the condition of Ampudia’s army, Santa Anna sent orders ahead to Saltillo directing Ampudia to bring the remnants of his army back to San Luis Potosí, meanwhile placing Ampudia under orders for court-martial.1 Ampudia, in turn, levied charges against about a dozen of his subordinates. That turned out to be a good ploy, because Santa Anna could not follow up. He had more pressing matters to deal with. The defeated commander, though under a shadow, went unpunished.2
Santa Anna arrived at San Luis Potosí on October 8, 1846. His obsession at this time was to concentrate, train, and equip an “invincible” army to attack Taylor, whose supply line had become longer with every mile he had ventured from Camargo. Concentration at San Luis Potosí was a sound idea, but Santa Anna carried it to the extreme, recalling the garrisons of all towns and villages throughout Mexico, thus conceding Taylor a free hand in the northern provinces. Even the port of Tampico was to be evacuated, despite the howls of its citizens and despite accusations throughout Mexico of complicity with the Americans. To create his great army, the Napoleon of the West would willingly pay even that price.
Santa Anna’s major problem at that time was to attain logistical support for the force he was organizing. At first, while the citizens expected Taylor to descend on them at any moment, they came forth zealously with produce and resources. When that scare passed, however, the public attitude began reverting to normal—that is, apathy. Obtaining recruits from the various Mexican states, especially from the north, became increasingly difficult. Durango demurred on the basis of Indian troubles; so did Michoacán; Zacatecas was already plotting to join with other states to overthrow the new president. But some cooperated: Guanajuato produced five thousand men; Jalisco, two thousand.3
Funds, as always, were lacking. At an estimated cost of one peso per day per man, support of an army of 35,000 (the planned total) would come to a million pesos a month. The usual source, customs duties, was dried up by the American naval blockade, so alternative means were sought, including the usual pressure on a reluctant clergy. Santa Anna obtained a loan of fifteen million pesos, secured with Church property, although only ten million were ever realized from that source.4
While Santa Anna was thus laboring at San Luis Potosí, the political situation back in Mexico City was becoming more fragmented. Acting President Salas was largely by-passed, and both the Puros (who had ousted Paredes) and the Moderatos looked to San Luis Potosí rather than to Mexico City for signals. Balancing the two factions against each other appeared to keep Santa Anna in the driver’s seat for a while, but meetings and plots were common in the capital. In early December the Senate held a presidential election in which Santa Anna squeaked by, receiving an unimpressive eleven votes (as a Puro) against nine for an unknown. But Gómez Farías, elected vice president, was in position to take over daily administration from Salas,5 and that development added some stability. Goméz Farías, however, was a poor fund-raiser, so the Mexican government provided Santa Anna’s army with a minimum of resources. Fortunately for Santa Anna, the governor of San Luis Potosí declared his unqualified support, and the army was able to depend on local resources.6
Santa Anna spent a busy four months at San Luis Potosí. Though he neglected his military activities at times because of his preoccupation with money,* he conducted an effective training program and assembled the strongest force that Mexico would field during the entire war. By the end of January 1847 its rolls came to over twenty thousand officers and men.† It would be, as Santa Anna had planned, a force overwhelmingly superior to that of Taylor.
At Monterrey Zachary Taylor was conveniently immobilized, legally and morally, by the provisions of his truce. He was actually making a virtue out of necessity, for his units needed a full eight weeks to adjust for the loss of their leaders. Henderson’s Texans, so prominent at Monterrey, had cheerfully left for home; their replacements, the Tennessee and Kentucky cavalry regiments, would not arrive from San Antonio for some time. Morale among Taylor’s men would recover slowly from the unexpected shock of the Monterrey battle, but news of Ampudia’s evacuation of Saltillo and rumors of the bad condition of Santa Anna at San Luis Potosí were heartening.7
Even in the relative calm, tragedy was not absent. In late October, Captain Randolph Ridgely fell from his horse, struck his head, and died the next day. A few weeks later Brigadier General Thomas Hamer, the man U. S. Grant believed would have been president one day succumbed to a fever after a long illness.‡
The relations between the occupiers of Monterrey and those civilians who had remained were cordial. William Henry, for one, found himself entranced with a story of a Señorita dos Amades, who had donned a uniform and, like “a second Joan D’ Arc,” had led a troop of lancers against the Americans at Monterrey on the afternoon of September 21. Henry had no sympathy, however, for a priest caught urging Americans to desert: “If he gets his desert, he should be hung, in spite of his sanctity.” Henry also made an informal visit to a girls’ school: “There were some beautiful creatures among them, and with one bright-eyed little one I should most certainly have had a frolic had I been master of her language.” And he sympathized with the plight of the poor, who were kept “in utter ignorance, and under blind obedience to their priests.”§
President Polk’s original war plan, it will be recalled, envisioned the occupation of all the northern and northwestern states of Mexico. Taylor had been charged with the main occupation force, but a respectable auxiliary expedition, commanded by Brigadier General John E. Wool, was also organized to depart from San Antonio and cross the Rio Grande to come under Taylor’s command. Polk anticipated that Wool would continue five hundred miles westward to seize Chihuahua, but that judgment he left to Taylor. On the east the most important city was Tampico, a port that lay 270 miles south on the Gulf, with the eastern chain of the Sierra Madre separating it from Matamoros. Tampico would be a logical objective for Commodore David Conner’s Home Squadron to seize.
Brigadier General John E. Wool had been in Washington at the beginning of hostilities. He was another of those Whig generals whom Polk mistrusted, but he was known as a capable soldier, and presented no political threat to Polk. So on May 28, 1846, Polk had met Wool and instructed him “to proceed to the West and see that the volunteers were speedily raised and marched to the Rio Grande with the least possible delay.”8
Polk had picked a good man for this difficult task. Wool was a formal, meticulous officer (“Old Fussy,” his men called him), who paid close attention to every detail of his command, an ideal personality to organize a mass of volunteers into the semblance of an army. His troops had always complained about his strictness; nevertheless, they had always viewed him with respect.
Wool left Washington without receiving written orders from the War Department. They caught up with him at Louisville, placing him in command of all regulars and volunteers in San Antonio and confirming that Taylor would probably send him to Chihuahua.9 At Lavaca, Texas, he joined a portion of his future command (including five hundred wagons) and trudged through deep mud to San Antonio, arriving on August 14. There he found the town of two thousand people totally unable to provide the supplies he needed, so he broke his force into two sections and marched 1,300 men out of San Antonio on September 25. The first leg of his journey would take him southwestward 175 miles toward the Presidio del Rio Grande (Eagle Pass). Colonel Sylvester Churchill would command the follow-up echelon of some 1,200 men a month later.‖
At the Rio Grande on October 8, 1846, Wool took several days to erect a small pontoon bridge across the swift stream, and then, leaving a detachment to guard the bridge for Churchill’s later use, he moved southward a few miles. After a week, during which time he learned of the fall of Monterrey, he continued on to Monclova. The roads were difficult for wagons, but the country was barren of sustenance, and mules would not have sufficed to carry enough rations to see him through.
By the end of October Wool had reached Monclova and had reported to Taylor. Taylor, bound by the provisions of his truce, instructed him to make camp where he was and await instructions. Very well, the respite at Monclova would afford Wool time to drill his men and scout the road to Chihuahua. He could also instill a modicum of discipline. That would prove a trying task. Samuel E. Chamberlain, 1st Dragoons, described the kind of thing Wool was up against:
One day when I was on the general’s guard, he with his staff road into town to dine. As we approached the guard line, a “sucker” on post was seated on the ground with a roguish-looking Senorita, engaged in eating frijoles and pan de maiz. The sentinel coolly eyed the cavalcade, and with no thoughts of rising to salute, he remarked, “Good day, General, hot riding out I reckon.”
The General thundered out, “Call the officer of the guard!”
The man just raised himself on his elbow and drawled out, “Lieutenant Woodson, come here right quick, post nine, for the old General wants you!” He then turned to his companion with a self-satisfied air, as if he had discharged his duty in the most exemplary manner.
The officer of the guard made his appearance without belt or sword, coat unbuttoned and a straw hat on. The general gave him a severe reprimand for his own appearance as well as the unsoldierlike conduct of the guard, whereupon the officer broke out, “Jake Strout, yer ain’t worth shucks. If you don’t git right up and salute the General, I’ll drive your gal away, doggone if I don’t.”
The gallant sentinel riled up at this and replied that “if the General wanted saluting the lieutenant might do it, he wasn’t agoing to do anything of the kind.”10
On the Gulf coast, the port of Tampico had long been eyed as a possible target for occupation by the United States. As the main city of Tamaulipas, and Mexico’s second most important port, Tampico would be a natural prize for a nation that controlled the adjacent waters.
The city had a strange history. Because of its distance from Mexico City, it had, as with the Spanish expedition of 1839, provided a tempting target for foreign invaders. It had also served as a haven for several revolutions. Because of Tampico’s proven usefulness as a base for all enemies, therefore, the Mexican government had historically kept its fortifications weak. But after the beginning of hostilities with the United States, Mexico City had decided to defend Tampico, and Anastasio Parrodi, commander of the garrison, had been ordered to fortify it. But now Santa Anna was withdrawing Parrodi’s troops to Tula, across the mountains, and they would continue to San Luis Potosí before they would ever return to Tampico. So Parrodi was helpless.
To Commodore Conner, however, an assault on Tampico presented problems. The waters at the mouth of the Pánuco River were difficult, and ships anchored offshore would be vulnerable to the storms that raged around the region. And Conner had already suffered setbacks in similar operations, having tried twice, during August, to seize the port of Alvarado, south of Veracruz.a
Those experiences had convinced Conner that it would be difficult for him to take and hold a fortified port without the help of ground troops. But Conner needed his men aboard his ships, so a land force would have to come from the army.
In September 1846 President Polk became aware of this problem and directed Marcy to send three thousand men from Taylor’s army to cooperate with Conner. Marcy selected Major General Robert Patterson to command. The detachment was subject to Taylor’s approval, but in order to save time, Marcy alerted Patterson directly at the same time as he wrote to Taylor.b
Taylor did object, strenuously. Since the troops to be taken were those he had left behind on the Rio Grande, it is difficult to see how such a detachment would have interfered with his campaign. But Taylor was becoming touchy, and on the basis of his own prerogatives he managed to stop Patterson’s movement and on October 15 protested Marcy’s action. Patterson would remain at Camargo, and Conner would have to take Tampico on his own.11
At about this time, Conner learned from an agentc that all defenders had been moved from Tampico and that Parrodi himself was scheduled to leave, but he was in the dark as to when that would be. He waited until mid-November, at which time, having received considerable naval reinforcements, he decided to make an effort. As he moved his ships into the harbor a deputation from the city came out to meet him and to plead for a peaceful occupation. The townspeople, they promised, had neither the means nor the disposition to resist. The next morning Conners formally issued a declaration that the city was under United States protection.12
But Conner still needed a force to occupy the city, so in the absence of Patterson’s infantry, he sent his deputy, Commodore Matthew Perry, to Brazos Island. Patterson, at Camargo, assumed responsibility for sending a small detachment of five hundred men, who arrived by water at Tampico on November twenty-third. The rest of the troops needed to garrison Tampico were sent directly from the United States.13 American occupation was secure.
Marcy’s letter directing Taylor to terminate the armistice of September 25 reached Monterrey on November 2, 1846. Taylor was understandably furious at the rebuke, and possibly as an act of malice sent the same messenger on to Saltillo with the required letter terminating the truce. Calculating the time he expected the letter to reach San Luis Potosí, Taylor considered himself free to resume hostilities as of November 15, 1846.d
Taylor’s anger at Washington was exacerbated by reports of plots against him. In this matter, Scott unwittingly added fuel to the fire. Trying to convince Taylor of his own personal friendship, Scott wrote to him that there were plots afoot to replace him (Taylor) with Patterson.14 Thus, in the light of Marcy’s direct communication to Patterson and the order to terminate the armistice, Taylor was feeling aggrieved. His assessment was fairly accurate:
There is, I hear from high authority, an intrigue going on against me; the object of which is to deprive me of the command; my only sin for this is the want of discretion on the part of certain politicians, in connecting my name as a proper candidate for the next presidential election, which I very much regretted.…15
But by this time Old Zack was also beginning to give Polk and Marcy cause for justifiable complaint. In his frustration, Taylor began to write letters to various friends. The principal recipient of these letters was Senator Crittenden, to whom Taylor wrote several times at great length. The two men were friends, and, whether or not Taylor had politics in mind, Crittenden became convinced that Polk and Marcy were treating him unfairly. But Crittenden was discreet; Gaines, by contrast, was not, and he made public one letter that Taylor had witten to him. Washington now had concrete evidence that despite Taylor’s disclaimers the “presidential bug” had bit him. This caused Polk to begin viewing Taylor as a political threat, the more so because the Whig newspapers, considering Scott finished in the 1848 political race, had played up Taylor’s victories to their fullest. Even the urchins of Philadelphia were singing little jingles:
“Old Zack’s at Monterey,
Bring out your Santa Anner;
For every time we raise a gun,
Down goes a Mexicaner.”16
Such strains, or similar strains, undoubtedly reached Polk’s ears. They could have given little comfort to the man whose “religion was politics.”
Irritations were one thing, but stark reality concerning the progress of the war was quite another. By now it was apparent that the strategy of limited war had failed. There would be no quick, cheap victory over a submissive Mexico: the war would have to be carried to Mexico City, or at least to the Gulf ports.
This realization had not come about overnight. Polk and his advisers had been seriously considering a landing at Veracruz for some time, but up to now they had been reluctant to face up to it in view of the concomitant need to call up new volunteers and augment the regular establishment. The decision was forced by the upcoming State of the Union Message.
Polk habitually spent weeks, even months, preparing his annual message, and even though it was to be presented in December, he was working on it as early as October. In a preliminary draft of that message he had anticipated recommending an end to the active prosecution of the war and mere occupation of that portion of Mexico along the current line of contact. This line of action conformed to Taylor’s view, expressed earlier in the year, and to the opinions of many, even including such Democrats as Buchanan and Calhoun, the latter of whom proposed to apply his policy of “masterly inactivity”17 to Mexico as well as to Oregon.
That policy however, changed suddenly when Polk’s favorite military adviser, Senator Benton, returned to Washington for the 1846–47 session of Congress. When Polk asked Benton to read over the manuscript of his message, Benton immediately took issue. The policy of “masterly inactivity,” he said, ran counter to his nature. He had been contemplating the course of the war during recess and he now felt ready to advocate an expedition to seize Veracruz, to be followed by the advance of a powerful force overland to seize Mexico City. A bipartisan commission of distinguished political leaders (including himself) should accompany that force to offer peace. Only immediate action could prevent the war from overthrowing the Democratic party.18
Polk presented Benton’s views to his cabinet on November 10, 1846, but he deferred any decision in hopes of first receiving Taylor’s thoughts on the matter, which had been solicited in Marcy’s letter of September 22. Four days later, however, an impatient Polk asked Benton to attend a cabinet meeting in order to argue for his more aggressive strategy. Benton accepted, and despite the general reluctance to reactivate the war,e he carried the day. As a meaningless concession to Marcy, who was against expanding the war, Polk directed that only nine regiments—instead of Benton’s recommended ten—would be called up.f
So the Veracruz operation was decided upon. But organizing an expedition entailed selecting a man to command it. Such a question was bound to be difficult for Polk, who hated delegating such heavy responsibility to anyone, especially to a professional soldier and not one of his own men. It was made even more difficult because Polk, far from being a stranger to the candidates for the command, was well acquainted with them, and he disliked them all. But the issue had to be faced, and soon.
The issue of a commander had been discussed with Benton on November 10, 1846, even before the significant cabinet meeting in which Benton had changed the course of the war. But with the campaign decided on, Polk called for Benton’s views again. The discussion began as an exercise in elimination. Taylor, Polk said, was “not a man of capacity enough.” Benton concurred. Then Scott? Benton expressed his disapproval by saying nothing. Polk named some others, but Benton liked none of them.
Finally Benton spoke his piece. “There ought to be a lieutenant-general of the army,” he said, “who should be general-in-chief.” This position, he went on, required a man of talent and resources. Obtaining a peace under these circumstances depended more upon the abilities and energy of the officer than upon mere bravery. The man to take such a command, therefore was obvious: “If such an office was created by Congress,” Polk recorded, “he [Benton] would be willing to accept the command himself.”19
This display of megalomania was not the least bit astonishing to Polk. After all, Benton had been a colonel in the War of 1812, thirty-four years before, and had been considered by President Jackson once as a possible general-in-chief. And the prospect of a Democratic general-in-chief was delightful. After all, the Whigs must not be allowed to use the war as a successful political weapon!20
Polk therefore assured Benton that even if Congress refused to create the rank of lieutenant general, Benton could still be a major general, for authority for such an appointment existed. Benton politely declined appointment to any such junior grade, but Polk reiterated his promise that the senator could head any peace commission.g
Winfield Scott, meanwhile, had been exercising unaccustomed restraint as he languished in Washington. Nearly bursting with the desire to take command in the field, he nevertheless made no public statements. Possibly to avoid such temptations, he moved the headquarters of the army for a time to West Point, where the air was good for his chills and fever and the distance between him and the secretary of war was great.
At one point, in early September, Scott had made an overture in a letter to Marcy. The newly organized mounted volunteer regiments were now within fifteen or twenty marches of the Rio Grande, he remarked, and (pretending that his assumption of command awaited only their availability) advised that he could reach the Rio Grande personally by the end of the month.21
Marcy had answered tersely within two days: “… It is not within the arrangements for conducting the campaign in Mexico to supersede General Taylor in his present command by assigning you to it.”22
Thus put down, Scott’s only recourse had been to send copies of the “vulgar and cold-blooded” letter of Marcy’s to his old friend Crittenden.h
But all that had happened before Monterrey. In the light of Taylor’s fall from Polk’s favor—and the new plans for expanded action in Mexico—the scene had changed. And Scott, while being outwardly correct in his attitude toward Taylor, was doing everything possible to ingratiate himself with Marcy, by preparing plans and showing deference. (He submitted one plan for a Veracruz landing just after Benton first broached the idea to Polk, on November 12, 1846.23)
Scott’s campaign worked. Marcy, who lacked Polk’s vindictiveness, was soon convinced that Scott, with all his faults, was the most capable man on the scene. So on Wednesday, November 18, 1846, Marcy formally recommended Scott to Polk, emphasizing that the general had been rendered politically harmless. Besides, Butler had been wounded at Monterrey; Patterson was inexperienced and foreign-born, ineligible to serve later as a presidential possibility. And time was growing short.
Not quite satisfied with Marcy’s recommendation, Polk invited Benton back to the White House again. Benton, now reconciled that the position of lieutenant general would not soon be established by Congress, seconded Marcy’s choice of Scott. Polk reluctantly consented, though reiterating his promise that the position of lieutenant general, if established, would go to Benton, along with command of the whole force.24
The next day Polk sent for Scott. Ordinarily a president derives some pleasure in creating new commands, and in informing the grateful general. Such action is one of the privileges of the position. But Polk derived no pleasure from this meeting, unless he enjoyed watching Scott squirm. Polk played a cat-and-mouse game, discussing the expedition at some length, dwelling upon its importance, to all of which Scott enthusiastically agreed. In an oblique manner Polk then said that if he could be satisfied of Scott’s “proper confidence in the administration,” he, Polk, was “disposed” to assign him to the command.
Scott, in Polk’s terms, was “much affected,” and poured forth “that he had the utmost confidence in the administration … and would cordially cooperate.… He left, apparently the most delighted man I have seen for a long time, and as he retired expressed his deep gratitude to me.”25
The grateful Scott, bordering on tears, left the President’s office. He was blissfully unaware that his chief still hoped to replace him with a future Lieutenant General Thomas Hart Benton.
* Wilfrid Calcott, Santa Anna, p. 249. The old charge of corruption raised its head despite the fact that Santa Anna himself contributed to the army’s supply from his own estate.
† Ramón Alcaraz, The Other Side, p. 94. It consisted of three infantry divisions (11,616), four separate cavalry brigades (2,437), a regiment of hussars (422), and a “division of observation” (1,655 infantry and 2,121 cavalry). With artillery, engineers, and other supporting troops, the total came to 19,996 men, 1,379 officers, and 162 “chiefs.” The “chiefs” must be presumed to be general officers and the numbers of useless hangers-on. The organization was cumbersome, with the cavalry split into five different commands. But it was the best that Santa Anna could do, depending as he did on the various individual states to supply the troops.
‡ William Henry, pp. 234, 252. U.S. Grant, I, Memoirs, p. 100. Hamer, as a congressman, had appointed Grant to West Point in 1839.
§ Henry, pp. 233, 240, 241. Smith mentions the señorita under a slightly varied name, but cites no source.
‖ Justin, Smith, The War with Mexico, vol. I, 267–68, 270. Buhoup, quoted on p. 509. Eventually Wool’s force would reach about 3,400, of whom only 600 (including squadrons from the 1st and 2d Dragoons) were regulars. “General Wool’s division consisted of the 1st and 2d Illinois Volunteers under Colonel J.J. Hardin and Colonel William H. Bissell; Major Bonneville’s battalion of the 6th U.S. Infantry; the Arkansas Cavalry under Colonel Archibald Yell; Captain John M. Washington’s battery of light artillery; and Colonel William S. Harney’s Dragoons; and a “spy” company of Texan Rangers, the whole numbering about 3,000 men and officers” (Samuel Chamberlain, My Confession, p. 43).
a The swollen river and Mexican resistance had frustrated his small effort. Insignificant as the actions had been, they represented the only Mexican successes to date; it was even proposed in the capital to confer upon Alvarado the title Heroico. R.S. Ripley, The War with Mexico, vol. I, pp. 307–9.
b James K. Polk, Diary, September 22, 1846, p. 150. Marcy believed that Patterson was back at Matamoros, a condition that would have made direct communication more compelling.
c Anne McClarmonde Chase, Irish-born wife of the departed American consul, who used her immunity as a British subject to act as spy and planter of false rumors among the Mexicans. David Nevin, The Mexican War p. 132.
d “On the 2d of November Major James Graham arrived from Washington as bearer of dispatches to General Taylor. Of course all was excitement until their contents were divulged. The government directed General Taylor to announce to the Mexican authorities that the armistice was broken up, and that we were to commence hostilities with renewed energy.… To carry out these instructions, Major Graham, with a small escort, was dispatched, on the 6th of November, to communicate to the general commanding the Mexican forces the orders of our government. We know he will be permitted to go to Saltillo, but it is extremely improbable that they will permit his further advance.” William Henry, p. 239.
e Marcy, for one, was on public record against calling up more volunteers.
f Benton, Thirty Years View, II, 694–95. Benton, according to his account, much enjoyed Calhoun’s shock when the final message was later read on the floor of the Senate. Calhoun, Benton claims, had not been previously apprised of this radical change in strategy for the war.
g Elbert Smith, Magnificent Missourian, p. 216. One historian gives this theory: “Benton does not seem at any time to have intended personally to take the direction of campaigns and battles but to confine his function to ‘the responsibility of plans and movements, while the generals, at the heads of divisions and columns, would only have the responsibility of execution,’ and in his speech … to the Senate he compared the command … to that ordinarily exercised by the President” (Meigs, The Life of Thomas Hart Benton, p. 364).
h John J. Crittenden, Life, vol. I, pp. 249–50. Crittenden, known for his congeniality, was a natural avenue for Scott to express his woes. He must have smiled when Scott once alluded to himself in poetry: “True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shone upon.”