Mexico, Aztec, Spanish and Republican/Volume 1/Book 3/Chapter 1
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
1809—1810.
The Archbishop Francisco Xavier de Lianza,
LVIII. Viceroy of New Spain.
The Audiencia of Mexico, and Venegas, LIX. Viceroy.
1809—1810.
The pictures presented in the introductory chapter to the viceroyal history and in the subsequent detailed narrative of that epoch, will suffice, we presume, to convince our readers that they need not penetrate deeply for the true causes of misery and misrule in Spanish America. The decadence of Spain as well as the present unhappiness of nearly all her ancient colonies may be fairly attributed to the same source of national ruin—bad, unnatural government. A distinguished statesman of our country has remarked that "the European alliance of emperors and kings assumed, as the foundation of human society, the doctrine of unalienable allegiance, whilst our doctrine was founded on the principle of unalienable right."[1]
This mistaken European view, or rather assumption of royal prerogative and correlative human duties, was the baleful origin of colonial misrule. The house of Austria did not govern Spain as wisely as its predecessors. The Spain that Philip I. received and the Spain of those who followed him, present a sad contrast. As the conquest of America had not been conceived, although it was declared to be, in a beneficent spirit, the sovereigns continued the system of plunder with which it was begun. Its results are known. The Americans were their subjects, bound to them by "unalienable allegiance;" vassals, serfs creatures, whose human rights, in effect, were nothing when compared to the monarch's will. This doctrine at once converted the southern portions of our continent into a soulless machine, which the king had a right to use as he pleased, and especially, as he deemed most beneficial for his domestic realm. The consequence was, that, in concurrence with the Council of the Indies, he established, as we have seen, an entirely artificial system, which contradicted nature, and utterly thwarted both physical and intellectual development.
The Indians and Creoles of Mexico and Peru, ignorant and stupid as they were believed to be by Spain, had, nevertheless, sense enough to understand and feel the wretchedness of their condition. They cherished in their hearts an intense hatred for their foreign masters. There was no positive or merely natural enmity of races in this, but rather a suppressed desire to avenge their wrongs.
When the French seized Spain, the colonies in America were, for a period, forced to rely upon themselves for temporary government. They did not, at once, desire to adopt republican institutions, but rather adhered to monarchy, provided they could free themselves from bad rulers and vicious laws. This especially was the case in Mexico. Her war against the mother country originated in a loyal desire to be completely independent of France. The news of the departure of Ferdinand VII. for Bayonne, and the alleged perfidy of Napoleon in that city, excited an enthusiasm among the Mexicans for the legitimate king, and created a mortal hatred against the conqueror of Europe. All classes of original Mexican society seem to have been united in these sentiments. Subscriptions were freely opened and in a few months, seven millions were collected to aid their Peninsular friends who were fighting for religion, king, and nationality. The idea did not strike any Mexican that it was a proper time to free his native land entirely from colonial thraldom.[2] But after a short time, the people began to reflect. The prestige of Spanish power, to which we have alluded heretofore, was destroyed. A French king sat upon the Spanish throne. The wand of the enchanter, with which he had spell-bound America across the wide Atlantic, was broken forever. The treasured memory of oppression, conquest, bad government and misery, was suddenly refreshed, and it is not surprising to find that when the popular rising finally took place, it manifested its bitterness in an universal outcry against the Spaniards.
After the occurrences at Bayonne, emissaries from king Joseph Bonaparte spread themselves over the continent to prepare the people for the ratification and permanence of the French government. These political propagandists were charged, as we have stated with orders from Ferdinand VII. and the Council of the Indies, to transfer the allegiance of America to France.[3] It may be imagined that this would have gratified the masses in America, who perhaps, had heard that the French were the unquestionable patrons of "liberty and equality." But, the exact reverse was the case among the Creoles, whilst the Spaniards in America, received the emissaries with welcome, and bowed down submissively to the orders they brought. Blinded for centuries to all ideas of government save those of regal character, the Mexicans had no notion of rule or ruler except their traditionary Spanish king. They clung to him, therefore, with confidence, for they felt the necessity of some paramount authority, as political self control was, as yet, an utter impossibility.
A secret union among leading men was, therefore, formed in 1810, which contemplated a general rising throughout the provinces, but the plot was detected at the moment when it was ripe for development. This conspiracy was based upon a desire to overthrow the Spaniards. "They felt," says Mr. Ward, "that the question was not now one between themselves as subjects, but between themselves and their fellow subjects, the European Spaniards, as to which should possess the right of representing the absent king," as guardians and preservers of the rights of Ferdinand. The Europeans claimed this privilege exclusively, with customary insolence. "The Ayuntamiento of Mexico was told by the Audiencia that it possessed no authority except over the leperos"—or mob of the capital; and it was a favorite maxim of the oidor Battaller that "while a Manchego mule or a Castilian cobler remained in the Peninsula, he had a right to govern."[4]
In those times, a certain country curate, by name Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, dwelt in the Indian village of Dolores, adjacent to the town of San Miguel el Grande, lying in the province of Guanajuanto. One of the conspirators being about to die, sent for his priest, and confessing the plot, revealed also the names of his accomplices. The curate Hidalgo was one of the chiefs of this revolutionary band, and the viceroy Venegas hoping to crush the league in its bud, despatched orders for his arrest and imprisonment, as soon as the confession of the dead conspirator was disclosed to him. Hidalgo's colleagues were also included in this order, but some of the secret friends of the insurgents learned what was occurring at court and apprised the patriot priest of his imminent danger. The news first reached Don Ignacio Allende, who commanded a small body of the king's troops in San Miguel, and who hastened with the disastrous tidings to his friend at Dolores. Concealment and flight were now equally unavailing. The troops of Allende were speedily won to the cause of their captain, while the Indians of Dolores rushed to defend their beloved pastor. As they marched from their village to San Miguel and thence to Zelaya, the natives, armed with clubs, slings, staves and missiles, thronged to their ranks from every mountain and valley. The wretched equipment of the insurgents shows their degraded condition as well as the passionate fervor with which they blindly rushed upon the enemies of their race. Hidalgo put on his military coat over the cassock, and, perhaps unwisely, threw himself at the head of a revolution, which rallied at the cry of "Death to the Gachupines."[5]
The result of this onslaught was dreadful. Wherever the rebellious army passed, Spaniards and uncomplying Creoles they were indiscriminately slaughtered, and though many of the latter were originally combined with the conspirators and eagerly longed for the emancipation of their country, they were dismayed by the atrocities of the wild insurgents. As the rebel chief, armed with the sword and cross, pressed onward, immense numbers of Indians flocked to his banner, so that when he left Zelaya, a fierce and undisciplined mob of twenty thousand hailed him as undisputed commander. At the head of this predatory band he descended upon the noble city of Guanajuanto, in the heart of the wealthiest mining district of Mexico. The Spaniards and some of the Creoles resolved upon a stout resistance, shut themselves up in the city and refused the humane terms offered by Hidalgo upon condition of surrender. This rash rejection led to an immediate attack and victory. When the city fell, it was too late for the insurgent priest to stay the savage fury of his troops. The Spaniards and their adherents were promiscuously slaughtered by the troops, and, for three days the sacking of the city continued, until wearied with conquest, the rebels, at length, stopped the plunder of the town. Immense treasures, hoarded in this place for many years, were the fruits of this atrocious victory which terrified the Mexican authorities and convinced them that the volcanic nature of the people had been fully roused, and that safety existed alone in uncompromising resistance.
The original rebellion was thus thrown from the hands of the Creoles into those of the Indians. A war of races was about to break out; and although there were not among the insurgents more than a thousand muskets, yet the mere numerical force of such an infuriate crowd, was sufficient to dismay the staunchest. The viceroy Venegas, and the church, therefore, speedily combined to hurl their weapons against the rebels. Whilst the former issued proclamations or decrees, and despatched troops under the command of Truxillo to check Hidalgo who was advancing on the capital, the latter declared all the rebels to be heretics, and excommunicated them in a body. Venegas ordered all the higher clergy "to represent from the pulpit, and circulate the idea privately, that the great object of the revolution was to destoy and subvert the holy Catholic religion, while he directed the subaltern ministers to sow discord in families by the confessional."[6] But the arms of the Spanish chiefs and the anathemas of the Roman church, were unequal to the task of resistance. Hidalgo was attacked by Truxillo at Las Cruces, about eight leagues from the capital, where the Indian army overwhelmed the Spanish general and drove him back to Mexico, with the loss of his artillery. In this action we find it difficult to apportion the ferocity, with justice, between the combatants, for Truxillo boasted in his despatch that he had defended the defile with the "obstinacy of Leonidas," and had even "fired upon the bearers of a flag of truce which Hidalgo sent him."²
The insurgents followed up their success at Las Cruces by pursuing the foe until they arrived at the hacienda of Quaximalpa, within fifteen miles of the city of Mexico. But here a fatal distrust of his powers seems first to have seized the warrior priest. Venegas, it is said, contrived to introduce secret emmissaries into his camp, who impressed Hidalgo and his officers with the belief that the capital was abundantly prepared for defence, and that an assault upon the disciplined troops of Spain, by a disordered multitude without fire arms, would only terminate in the rout and destruction of all his forces. In fact, he seems to have been panic stricken, and to have felt unable to control the revolutionary tempest he had raised. Accordingly, in an evil moment for his cause, he commenced a retreat, after having remained several days in sight of the beautiful city of Mexico, upon which he might easily have swept down from the mountain like an eagle to his prey.
It is related by the historians of these wars, that in spite of all Venegas's boasted valor and assurance, he was not a little dismayed by the approach of Hidalgo. The people shared his alarm, and would probably have yielded at once to the insurgents, whose imposing forces were crowding into the valley. But in this strait the viceroy had recourse to the well known superstitions of the people, in order to allay their fears. He caused the celebrated image of the Virgin of Remedios to be brought from the mountain village, where it was generally kept in a chapel, to the cathedral, with great pomp and ceremony. Thither he proceeded, in full uniform, to pay his respects to the figure, and after imploring the Virgin to take the government into her own hands, he terminated his appeal by laying his baton of command at her feet.[7]
It is now that we first encounter in Mexican history the name of Don Felix Maria Calleja,—a name that is coupled with all that is shameless, bloody, and atrocious, in modern warfare. Calleja was placed at the head of a well appointed Creole army of ten thousand men and a train of artillery, and with these disciplined forces, which he had been for some time concentrating, he was ordered to pursue Hidalgo.[8] The armies met at Aculco, and the Indians, in their first encounter with a body of regulars, exhibited an enthusiastic bravery that nearly defies belief. They were almost as completely ignorant of the use or power of fire arms as their Aztec ancestors three hundred years before. They threw themselves upon the serried ranks of infantry with clubs and staves. Rushing up to the mouths of the cannon they drove their sombreros or hats of straw, into the muzzles. Order, command, or discipline, were entirely unknown to them. Their effort was simply to overwhelm by superiority of numbers. But the cool phalanx of Creoles stood firm, until the Indian disorder became so great, and their strength so exhausted by repeated yet fruitless efforts, that the regulars commenced the work of slaughter with impunity. Calleja boasts that Hidalgo lost "ten thousand men, of whom five thousand were put to the sword." It seems, however, that he was unable to capture or disband the remaining insurgents; for Hidalgo retreated to Guanajuato, and then fell back on Guadalaxara, leaving in the former city a guard under his friend Allende.
Calleja next attacked the rebel forces at the hacienda of Marfil, and having defeated Allende, who defended himself bravely, rushed onward towards the city of Guanajuato. This place he entered as conqueror. "The sacrifice of the prisoners of Marfil," says Robinson, "was not sufficient to satiate his vindictive spirit. He glutted his vengeance on the defenceless population of Guanajuato. Men, women and children, were driven by his orders, into the great square; and fourteen thousand of these wretches, it is alleged, were butchered in a most barbarous manner. Their throats were cut. The principal fountain of the city literally overflowed with blood. But, far from concealing these savage acts, Calleja, in his account of the conflict, exults in the honor of communicating the intelligence that he had purged the city of its rebellious population. The only apology offered for the sacrifice was that it would have wasted too much powder to have shot them, and therefore, on the principle of economy he cut their throats. Thus was this unfortunate city, in a single campaign, made the victim of both loyalists and insurgents.
Hidalgo and his division were soon joined by Allende, and although they suffered all the disasters of a bad retreat as well as of Spanish victories, he still numbered about eighty thousand under his banners. He awaited Calleja at Guadalaxara, which he had surrounded with fortifications and armed with cannon, dragged by the Indians, over mountain districts from the port of San Blas, on the Pacific; but it is painful to record the fact, that in this city Hidalgo was guilty of great cruelties to all the Europeans. Ward relates that between seven and eight hundred victims fell beneath the assassin's blade. A letter, produced on Hidalgo's trial, written to one of his lieutenants, charges the officer to seize as many Spaniards as he possibly can, and, moreover, directs him, if he has any reason to suspect his prisoners of entertaining seditious or restless ideas, to bury them at once in oblivion by putting such persons to death in some secret and solitary place, where their fate may remain forever unknown! As the cruelty of Old Spain to the Mexicans had well nigh driven them to despair, such savage assassinations, in turn, drove the Spaniards to revenge, or, at least furnished them with an excuse for their horrible atrocities.
Calleja, intent on the pursuit of his Indian prey, was not long in following Hidalgo. The insurgent chief endeavored to excite the ardor of his troops, while he preserved some show of discipline in their ranks; and, thus prepared, he gave battle to the Spaniards, at the bridge of Calderon, on the 17th of January, 1811. At first Hidalgo, was successful, but the rebels were no match for the royal troops kept in reserve by Calleja. With these he made a fierce charge upon the Indians, and sweeping through their broken masses he "pursued and massacred them by thousands."
Calleja was not a person either to conciliate or to pause in victory. He believed that rebellion could only be rooted out by utter destruction of the insurgents and their seed. Accordingly orders were issued to "exterminate the inhabitants of every town or village that showed symptoms of adherence to the rebels," whilst, from the pulpit, new denunciations were fulminated against all who opposed the royal authority. The insurgent chiefs fled, and reached Saltillo with about four thousand men. There it was resolved to leave Rayon in command, while Hidalgo, Allende, Aldama and Absolo endeavored to reach the United States with an escort for the purpose of purchasing munitions of war with the treasure they had saved from the sacking of Guanajuato. But these fierce and vindictive soldiers were destined to end their lives by treachery. Hidalgo's associate rebel, Ignacio Elizondo, hoping to make his peace with the government by betraying so rich a prize, delivered them up to the authorities on the 21st of March, 1811, at Acatila de Bajan. Hidalgo was taken to Chihuahua, and, after being degraded from holy orders, was shot on the 27th of July, whilst Calleja was rewarded for his victories with the title of Conde de Calderon, won by his brilliant charge at the bridge near Guanajuato.
Such is an outline of the warfare between the Sylla and Marius of this continent, and of some of the most prominent events in the origin of that revolution which finally resulted in the Mexican independence.
- ↑ John Quincy Adams's letter to Mr. Anderson, minister to Columbia, May 27, 1823. See President's message on the Panama Congress, March, 1823.
- ↑ Zavala, Historia, vol. 1, p. 38
- ↑ Robinson's Hist. Mex. Rev. p. 10.
- ↑ Ward's Mexico, vol. 1, p. 127. Id. p. 157.
- ↑ This term has heen variously interpreted; it is supposed to be an ancient Indian word significant of contempt. It is applied by the natives to the European Spaniards or their full blooded descendants. See Robinson's His. Rev. Mex., 15.
- ↑ Robinson Memoir Mex. Rev. 19. * lb. p. 20.
- ↑ Wards' Mexico in 1827, vol. i. p, 169.
- ↑ The Creoles although unfriendly to the Spaniards, and ready to rebel against them, were nevertheless willing to aid them against the Indians whom they more reasonably regarded, under the circumstances as the more dangerous of the two classes.