A Gallant Little Army

by Timothy D Johnson

  Epilogue

  The maximum use of force is in no way incompatible with the simultaneous use of the intellect.

  —Carl von Clausewitz

  The efforts to win a peace settlement almost became lost in the preoccupations that commanded the army’s attention in the months after the capture of Mexico City. President Polk’s relationship with his chief diplomat became as stormy as the one with his chief general. In September and October 1847, Polk became increasingly displeased with Nicholas Trist, and in his anger, Polk was prone to spitefulness. In his frustration over the continuation of the war, which he mostly attributed to the obstinacy of the Mexican government, Polk had decided to expand his territorial demands as an indemnity. Although Polk was not quite an advocate of the “All Mexico” movement that many Americans had come to embrace, he nevertheless thought that the United States should be compensated for the prolonged conflict and that Mexico should pay for its recalcitrance. Then he learned of the failed two-week armistice and of Trist’s willingness to entertain Mexican proposals that Polk deemed entirely inappropriate. With his peace requirements changing and his distrust for Trist growing, Polk decided in October to order the diplomat home. “Mr. Trist had exceeded his instructions,” thought the president, and he must return to Washington at once. By the time Polk’s recall order arrived in Mexico on November 16, a new Mexican government was in place and serious peace negotiations appeared imminent. General Pedro María Anaya, a moderate, assumed the presidency and promptly appointed Manuel Peña y Peña as foreign minister. Peña was distraught over the prospects of Trist’s departure and the stalemate that such would render to the peace process.1

  The Englishman Edward Thornton had been working behind the scenes to bring both sides together, but Trist’s unforeseen recall provided a sudden incentive for them to act. From the Mexican perspective, it seemed to indicate that Washington was not as desperate for a peace treaty as previously assumed, which, if true, meant the loss of a bargaining advantage at the negotiating table. By recalling Trist, Polk may have unwittingly produced a sense of urgency on the part of the Mexicans. Also disturbing was the suspicion that perhaps a new peace commissioner would bring a new and more extensive set of demands from the United States. For his part, Trist wanted to stay and finish the job, and with a moderate government in place the prospect for a treaty improved. Thus the diplomat decided to disobey his instructions to return to Washington. He committed to stay in Mexico until he had a treaty in hand, and he so notified the administration in an insubordinate sixty-five-page letter on December 6. He justified his actions by explaining that the authorities in Washington did not know the state of affairs and that an opportunity for a speedy peace was at hand, which needed to be seized, not lost. The president was indignant when Trist’s dispatch arrived in Washington. It was “arrogant, impudent, and very insulting to his Government, and even personally offensive,” Polk recorded in his diary. The angry president could do nothing but wait and fume.2

  Trist’s insubordination may have been partially motivated by his knowledge of Polk’s shifting territorial demands, and the fear that the president might even succumb to the “All Mexico” temptation. Trist opposed the incorporation of most or all of Mexico because he believed it would be dangerous to the free institutions of the United States and would also infect the nation with “the virus of Spanish corruption.” It was a contagious attitude that afflicted not only politicians back home but also soldiers in the army. Robert Anderson agreed with Trist’s sentiments regarding the rampant corruption that “underminded every sentiment of morality,” but he believed that the remedy was in forcing North American institutions on Mexico. In a letter home, he wrote, “We are bound to take from her one third of her territory and it would be better for her that we took it all. This people is totally incapable of self government.” Another soldier named Cantey (probably James Cantey from South Carolina) asserted his opinion about Mexico: “we ought to have it, there is no finer country upon the face of the Western Hemisphere.” Then he went on to describe a primary motivation for land acquisition that many Southerners shared. This country has “a climate & soil perfectly adapted to all the products which employ the labour of slaves.” And what about the Mexican people? According to this correspondent, “the same fate will await them that happen to the Indian tribes of our own frontier. They will naturally vanish from civilization.”3 This extreme view, however, was the articulation of a disease more deadly than the so-called Spanish virus that Trist feared, and one that was not cured until the Civil War.

  When the negotiations finally began in earnest in early January, they progressed quickly, and Trist’s patience coupled with firmness resulted in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which the negotiators signed on February 2. In it, Mexico agreed to cede California and New Mexico to the United States, along with acquiescence in the Rio Grande boundary line in return for $15 million. In all, the treaty turned over to the United States over 529,000 square miles, and after adding the cost of the war and the veterans’ pensions, the price per acre came to forty-eight cents. The treaty essentially met all of Polk’s demands from the previous year, and despite his displeasure, he had no political alternative but to accept its terms. By ignoring the president’s orders and seeing the negotiations through to completion, Trist avoided a delay of unpredictable length, and perhaps even prevented a prolonged quagmire.4 Of course, by the time Trist affixed his name to the treaty, his fate, like that of Scott’s, had been determined. The president saw to it that both the diplomat and the general, who together orchestrated the successful conclusion of the war, would be publicly disgraced.

  The men who fought in Scott’s gallant little army thought that the Mexico City Campaign would be remembered as one of the greatest military operations of American history. Lieutenant Thomas Williams thought that he had just participated in “the great event—the epoch—of the 19th century,” and Lieutenant William M. Gardner thought that the army’s accomplishment would “astound the world.” They also believed that Scott had won for himself exalted status “among the world’s great captains.” The campaign indeed warranted the lofty accolades that its participants predicted, as did Scott’s generalship, but alas, the real epoch of the nineteenth century came a decade and a half later. The magnitude of the Civil War overshadowed everything that came before it and raised up new heroes who easily eclipsed those of the antebellum period, even though the new icons were often former protégés of the ones they surpassed. Writing almost a half century later, James Longstreet, a soldier in both wars, still considered Scott to be “that consummate strategist, tactician, and organizer.”5

  The campaign embodied elements that were both backward and forward looking. The architect of the operation was a studied practitioner of old-school methods. His proficiency in eighteenth-century warfare made it natural for him to devise a strategy in Mexico that was conventional and that emphasized maneuver and holding geographic locations. In battle, he administered several crushing blows with the sword, followed by an extension of the olive branch. Rather than seek to annihilate the Mexican army, Scott’s strategy of moderation called for defeating the enemy in battle and seizing key cities, which is precisely what British General William Howe had in mind when he captured New York and Philadelphia during the American Revolution. Scott’s plan would take him ever deeper into Mexico, thus adding ever-increasing pressure on its government to treat for peace, and at every step, Scott gave his opponent time to consider the consequences of continued resistance. Before leaving Puebla, he drew in his garrisons and cut his lines back to the coast, which eliminated his greatest vulnerability while giving his army optimal strength for the last leg of the journey. By magnifying his limited numbers, he maximized the threat to the capital. Furthermore, while still in Puebla, he clearly stated what he would do when he arrived in the Valley of Mexico: defeat the enemy and take a strategic point near the city, then await a peace overture from the government.

  In addition to his efforts to d
efeat rather than destroy the enemy army, he sought to limit the impact on unoffending civilians whenever possible. To accomplish this, he devised a pacification plan that was ahead of its time. He foresaw all of the potential dilemmas that an invading army would face and crafted policies to deal with them. Scott was the first American general to invoke martial law while commanding an army on foreign soil. In so doing, he set a precedent that others have followed: the right of a commander to establish military government. It “worked like a charm,” Scott recalled in his Memoirs. Indeed, he was convinced that without invoking martial law, his army “could not have . . . reached the capital.” Unlike Zachary Taylor, who made no effort to set up a form of government or administration in northern Mexico, Scott showed remarkable foresight and efficiency in finding a way to provide both order and security as his army marched through a hostile country. Strict discipline, respect for property, reverence to religion, purchase of supplies, and like measures collectively represented an organized effort to appease the Mexican population and prevent a guerrilla uprising. It did not completely prevent a resort to partisan warfare, but Scott’s efforts did preclude it from reaching a level that could threaten his army’s security. In short, he fought a limited war. In what could be considered an oxymoron, one might say that he fought a civilized war, or as Scott himself put it, “I carried on war as a Christian, and not as a fiend!” Longstreet referred to Scott as “an example worthy of eternal emulation” because while marching through Mexico, “he was as strict in the requirement of order and protection for non-combatants as he could have been in marching through his own civil communities. The result was speedy peace, respect from all people, admiration and affection from many.”6

  Longstreet’s summation is noteworthy, although one might take exception to his reference to a “speedy peace.” Scott’s willingness to halt operations after major victories to gauge Mexican intentions indicated his understanding of the political nature of warfare; however, it probably prolonged the war by at least a few weeks. Some of his delays were understandable and even unavoidable, but the two-week armistice was a nod too heavily in favor of politics over military action. It was a kind gesture abused by a dishonest foe. It was Clausewitz who said that in war, “the mistakes which come from kindness are the very worst.”7 His hesitation after Churubusco did what hesitancy usually does; it gave the enemy hope.

  The Mexican War was a major formative factor for many of the army’s young officers. For one thing, it widened the gap of distrust between professionals and volunteers. Several of the army’s professional officers played crucial roles by using their skill as engineers and scouts to help Scott position the army and orchestrate the campaign. The talents of scores of West Point graduates like Robert E. Lee and Pierre G. T. Beauregard were on full display on more than one battlefield, and the knowledge acquired at West Point proved a valuable asset to the army. At a dinner hosted by Scott at his Mexico City headquarters in December 1847, the army commander made sure that the numerous political generals in attendance, those who owed their commissions to presidential favor, understood the value of professional military training. In a voice that all could hear, Scott raised his glass and toasted the “Military Academy—without it we could never have reached the Capital of Mexico.” All present heartily agreed, but as one academy graduate speculated, those same volunteer generals will be the first to “abuse the Old Regular Army and the graduates of West Point” when they return to the States.8

  The young officers also learned from their commanding general. Scott’s proficiency in fighting a limited war of maneuver and in the use of flank attacks to surprise his opponent made a lasting impression on many of the future generals. Numerous flank attacks in the Civil War conjure images of Cerro Gordo and Padierna or the march around Lake Chalco. From George B. McClellan’s attempt to replicate Scott’s campaign on the peninsula in 1862 to Ulysses S. Grant’s decision to cut his line of communication at Vicksburg, to Robert E. Lee’s numerous flank attacks in 1862 and 1863, Scott’s influence is evident. If one were to take a transparency image of the troop movements at Cerro Gordo and invert it, one would find a nearly exact duplicate of the Confederate movements at Chancellorsville. Lee was the most astute pupil of the tactical lessons of the Mexico classroom, and when he became the commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, he, like Scott, benefitted from the advantages that accrue from offensive warfare. Even in their orders regarding the treatment of civilians, Civil War generals like Lee in Pennsylvania and Don Carlos Buell in Tennessee demonstrated that they had learned the lessons of 1847.

  An important lesson that both Grant and Lee learned in Mexico was the advantage held by the commander who successfully seizes the initiative. After he became the commanding general of all the Union armies in 1864, Grant succeeded because he took the initiative away from his opponent and dictated the course of the war—something Lee had been doing for the previous two years. Grant’s predecessors in Union high command had often merely reacted to what the enemy did—reacted to whatever situation Lee forced on them. That changed in 1864. Grant witnessed in Mexico the benefits that redound to an enterprising general who takes the initiative and forces the enemy into a reactionary role. He also knew what other Union generals obviously did not: that winning the war would require an ongoing, sustained campaign, not merely a single battle. However, unlike Scott, and unlike previous Union commanders who remained fixed in a limited war mind-set, Grant instinctively understood that in total war, capturing a position (Richmond) would not suffice. To win the war, Grant had to destroy the enemy army.

  The Civil War and its heroes became the defining moment of the nineteenth century. It emerged as the great watershed event of American history, affecting things that followed for years. In the process, it completely overshadowed the accomplishments of Winfield Scott’s gallant little army in Mexico. Historian James I. Robertson offered this succinct but glowing summary of the Mexico City Campaign: “Never had an American general accomplished more, with fewer men, and with less support from his government. The Scott campaign in Mexico had been brilliant.”9 Despite prejudices, lapses of discipline, and other shortcomings, the army and the general had indeed performed brilliantly.

  Appendix 1

  Distances from Veracruz to Mexico City in Quarter-Mile Increments, Compiled by Captain William H. Shover, Third Artillery

  Site Miles to Next Point Miles from Veracruz

  To Vergara 3 3

  Rio Medio 2.25 5.25

  Santa Fe 3 8.25

  San Juan 7 15.25

  Puente de Las Vegas 10 25.25

  Puente Nacional 5.5 30.75

  Plan del Río 10.5 41.25

  Encero 13.5 54.75

  Jalapa 8.75 63.5

  La Banderilla 5.25 68.75

  San Miguel 3.5 72.25

  La Hoya 4.5 76.75

  Las Vigas 6.25 83

  Cruz Blanca 5.25 88.25

  Perote 8.25 96.5

  Tepe Algualco 18.5 115

  Ogo de Agua 20.75 135.75

  Nopaluca 8.5 144.25

  El Pinal 7 151.25

  Acajeti 6.5 157.75

  Amozoque 8 165.75

  Puebla 10.5 176.25

  San Martin 22.75 199

  Rio Frio 18 217

  Venta de Cordova 10.5 227.5

  Ayotla 9 236

  El Peñon 8.5 244.5

  Mexico City 7.5 252

  SOURCE: Reproduced from William Preston, Journal In Mexico, Beinecke Library, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

  Appendix 2

  Officers in Winfield Scott’s Army upon Its Departure from Puebla

  Name and Unit

  Remarks

  General in Chief and Staff

  Maj. Gen. Winfield Scott

  Lt. Col. Ethan A. Hitchcock

  Capt. Henry L. Scott

  1st Lt. Thomas Williams

  Commanding the Army

  Acting Inspector General

  A.D.C. and Chief Adjutant Generals Dept.

 
A.D.C.

  Bvt. 1st Lt. George W. Lay

  2nd Lt. Schuyler Hamilton

  Maj. J. P. Gaines

  Military Secretary

  A.D.C., wounded near Mira Flores, Aug. 12

  Volunteer A.D.C.

  Engineer Corps

  Maj. John L. Smith

  Capt. Robert E. Lee

  Capt. James L. Mason

  Lt. P.G.T. Beauregard

  Lt. Isaac J. Stevens

  Lt. Zealous B. Tower

  Lt. Gustavus W. Smith

  Chief Engineer

  Wounded at Chapultepec, Sep. 13

  Severely wounded at Molino del Rey, Sep. 8

  Wounded at Belén Gate, Sep. 13

  Wounded at San Cosme, Sep. 13

  Wounded at Chapultepec, Sep. 13

  Lt. John G. Foster

  Wounded at Molino del Rey, Sep. 8

  Ordnance Department

  Capt. Benjamin Huger

  1st Lt. P. V. Hagner

  2nd Lt. C. P. Stone

  Chief of Ordnance Dept.

  Topographical Engineer

  Maj. William Turnbull

  Chief Topographical Engineer served with Gen. in Chief

  Capt. G. McClellan

  2nd Lt. George Thom

  Served with Twiggs’s division