if not with perfect confidence. It still left something to the conquered people which was not necessary or valuable to us.
There are other matters, unquestionably, that weighed much in the very responsible deliberations of General Scott. If our army entered the city triumphantly, or took it by assault, the frail elements of government still lingering at that period of disorganization, would either fly or be utterly destroyed. All who were in power, in that nation of jealous politicians and wily intriguers would be eager to shun the last responsibility. If Santa Anna should be utterly beaten, the disgrace would blot out the last traces of his remaining prestige. If so fatal a disaster occurred, as subsequent events proved, the Americans would be most unfortunately situated in relation to peace, for there would be no government to negotiate with! Santa Anna's government was the only constitutional one that had existed in Mexico for a long period, and with such a legalized national authority peace must be concluded. It was not our duty to destroy a government and then gather the fragments to reconstruct another with which we might treat. If a revolutionary, or provisional authority existed, what prospect had we of enduring pacification? What guaranty did we hold in a treaty celebrated with a military despot, a temporary chief, or a sudden usurper, that such a treaty could be maintained before the nation? What constitutional or legal right would an American general or commissioner have, to enter into such a compact? Was it not, therefore, Scott's duty to act with such tender caution as not to endanger the fate of the only man who might still keep himself at the head of his rallied people?
Besides these political considerations, there are others, of a military character, that will commend themselves to the prudent and the just. The unacclimated American army had marched from Puebla to the valley of Mexico during the rainy season, in a tropical zone, when the earth is saturated with water, and no one travels who can avoid exposure. Our men were forced to undergo the hardships of such a campaign, to make roads, to travel over broken ground, to wade marshes, to bivouack on the damp soil with scarce a shelter from the storm, to march day and night, and finally, without an interval of repose, to fight two of the sharpest actions of the war. The seven or eight thousand survivors of these actions,—many of whom were new levies—demanded care and zealous husbanding for future events. They were distant from the coast and cut off from support or immediate succor. The enemy's present or prospective weakness was not to be relied on. Wisdom required that what was in the rear should be thought of as well as what was in advance.
