Down Mexico Way

by Drew McGunn

  Zavala replied, “Emily says a prayer for his safe return every night. Me, I pray that we receive word soon. If David was successful in wrestling California away, it will completely change the negotiations.”

  Chapter 27

  24 August 1843

  Will rose from the conference table and stepped over to a credenza where refreshments were available. As he poured himself a glass of lemonade, he wondered what had possessed Lorenzo to include him as a member of his delegation. To Will’s twenty-first century mind, there were good reasons to separate the military and civilian duties within the government.

  Nearly two weeks had passed, and it appeared the only accomplishment was for the two sides to find creative ways to restate their starting points. He would rather be anywhere than in the room with the diplomats. Lorenzo had probably added him to the diplomatic team because Herrera had included one of his generals in the Mexican delegation. Will had heard of General Jose Urrea, both from the history he recalled from his own past, in a world gone forever, and as one of the generals who had served under Adrian Woll the previous year. Urrea wore his black hair slicked back. He carried himself with a confidence that Will thought bordered on outright arrogance.

  Will had to remind himself on more than one occasion this version of Urrea wasn’t the same as the one from his own past who had carried out the Goliad massacre. There had been several receptions over the past week, hosted in the hope that the two delegations mingling in a relaxed setting would hasten a treaty, and he had spoken at length with the Mexican general. While he hadn’t found Urrea to be as warm as General Almonte, there was still a sharp mind behind the arrogant eyes.

  His thoughts were broken by the man sitting to Zavala’s right. John Wharton, who was Texas’ chief diplomat, said, “President Herrera, your intransigence is unsettling. Your armies are decimated and scattered. You’ve got rebellion brewing outside of places like the Yucatan, and yet you persist in refusing to negotiate. Tell me why President Zavala and I shouldn’t return to Texas and let General Travis complete the job he has started.”

  Will saw the storm clouds gathering around Herrera, but Wharton ignored it, “Tell me, do you honestly believe even as brave an officer as General Urrea could stop our army from capturing San Luis Potosi?”

  Urrea bristled, but it was Herrera who spoke, “Secretary Wharton, Mexico is not defeated. We sought a treaty to end the war, not because you have conquered us, but to save lives. But you bring your demands that would strip us of our land and of our principals. The treaty you propose would never receive enough votes in our Congress to be ratified.”

  Zavala placed a hand on Wharton’s arm, silencing a retort. He removed his glasses and took out a handkerchief and methodically cleaned the lenses before saying. “We really need to spend some time focusing on what is achievable. President Herrera, the treaty you propose would, as my predecessor would say, stink like a polecat in Austin. Were I to bring it to our congress, they would tar and feather me and run me out of town on a rail.”

  Will hid his smile behind the glass of lemonade. It was something he would expect to hear from Crockett, but coming from Zavala, the comment struck him as funny. But also, very true. Too many men had died defending the Alamo the previous year and storming the Mexican positions at the Rio Grande and again at Monterrey, for Texas to take anything less than the boundaries defined in the Treaty of Bexar. And Santa Anna. It would be a cold day in Hell before Will would allow Santa Anna’s release back to the Mexican government. The former dictator had much to answer for.

  A rumble in his stomach was validated by a comment from Herrera’s secretary. “Let’s take a break for lunch. Perhaps we can approach our problems with a fresh perspective on a full stomach.”

  There were no objections, and a few minutes later he stood under the building’s veranda. “Mr. President, if we don’t get a breakthrough pretty damn quick, we’re going to need to start marching on San Luis Potosi. Herrera has damn all between us and central Mexico. But if we go that route, we’ll have no choice but to mobilize another two or three thousand men.”

  Zavala stifled a groan. “Such a campaign would eat into the autumn, and if we mobilized three or four more battalions, that might make the difference between getting enough of our harvest in and starvation.”

  Will cursed. Then thinking about Texas’ terms, he asked, “Which of our demands is most negotiable?”

  Without hesitation, Zavala said, “Obviously, the Yucatan gambit is worthless, but it was worth a try. But, as much as I want to see to the welfare of our widows and orphans, I would sacrifice the indemnities, too. I would even consider giving them back Santa Anna before I would budge an inch on our borders.”

  “Too many men have died, Mr. President, defending the treaty boundary for us to negotiate that away. Have we considered offering any kind of financial arrangement for the settlement of the boundary dispute?”

  “With what, General?” Zavala countered. “This war has played hell on our budget.”

  A rider came galloping into town’s central plaza from the east, from the direction of Monterrey. His butternut uniform was caked with gray dust, and as he slowed his mount to a canter, Will saw the rider looking around the plaza. When Will met the rider’s eyes, the horseman veered toward him. He drew up and cast a quick salute, “General, Colonel Crockett has done it, he has captured California!”

  ***

  30 August 1843

  Were Lorenzo de Zavala a cat, his whiskers would have drooped heavy with cream. But he was only a man, albeit a happy one. The conference had gone to hell when the Mexican president and his delegation had learned of Crockett’s conquest.

  Herrera had stormed from the library and threatened to leave Saltillo. It was his own general, Urrea, who had taken him aside and reminded him the only choices were between bad and worse. Santa Anna had squandered the only army worth the name on the Texian redoubts south of the city. Still quivering with anger, Herrera relented.

  The question Zavala and his delegates had faced when it was clear Herrera was going to be forced to give in, was deciding how much to demand. It was easy enough to jettison any agreement regarding the struggling Republic of the Yucatan or limits on the Mexican navy in the Gulf of Mexico. Both Secretary of State Wharton and General Travis had assured him the Texas Navy would be able to maintain supremacy against Mexico for years to come. Giving in on those two issues allowed President Herrera to save enough face to agree to drop his demand to return Santa Anna to Mexico.

  The negotiations hit a wall again when they talked about territory. Herrera reluctantly agreed to surrender any Mexican claim to the boundaries provided in the treaty of Bexar. But Texas now held an additional half million square miles of land. In truth, Zavala had considered it Crockett’s folly when he had agreed to it the previous year, and he had half expected the former president to return to Texas defeated by the harsh land separating Santa Fe from Alta California.

  He had been inclined to surrender all of California back to Mexico, knowing it would bring a close to the negotiations, but had been surprised when both Secretary of State Wharton and General Travis opposed it.

  Wharton had argued, “Sir, if we keep California, we inherit several Pacific ports. If we can connect them to the east, it will make Texas a continental power. Spain had California for three hundred years, Mexico for twenty-five. Both Spain and Mexico had the opportunity to colonize it, but after all that time, maybe ten thousand Californios call it home. And according to Crockett’s dispatches, folks were lining up in both San Diego and Los Angeles to swear allegiance to Texas.”

  But it was Travis’ advice which gave him to the most to consider. It was, as the general was fond of saying, a game changer.

  He had said, “Mr. President, the ports are no doubt valuable, but I have a strong suspicion there are rich minerals in the area that Mexico hasn’t been able to exploit. Trying to hold all that territory could be a real challenge, although potentially very lucrative to our treasur
y.”

  Ever since Zavala had served as Crockett’s vice president, he had seen the general had almost a preternatural sense about him. From anyone else, the idea of holding California seemed a pipe dream. “Let’s assume we can get Herrera to negotiate a price, how in the name of all that is holy do we pay for it? We’re neck deep in debt at the moment.”

  Travis’ next words left him speechless. “This is just an idea, mind you, but we could keep a strip of land connecting Santa Fe to San Diego and Los Angeles and sell the rest of it. I think we all know a hungry neighbor to our north that is beating the drums for manifest destiny. An opportunity to acquire a few hundred thousand square miles would be hard for even a Whig to pass up.”

  It was an intriguing idea. After studying a map of North America, Travis had further refined it. He had suggested offering to the United States all the territory north of 36° 30 north, for the right price. In the territory held by the United States, the parallel of 36° 30 north was most commonly known as the Missouri Compromise.

  The idea was appealing; he had asked, “You mentioned much of this land is likely rich in minerals, if that’s so, why sell it to the United States?”

  Travis’ laughter had rung in his ears, “Most of us have given up our citizenship in the United States to make something of Texas. But we still have family and friends back east, and they are fixated on stretching from sea to shining sea, Mr. President. If we can arrive at an arrangement with Mexico for Alta California, our friends and family back east may decide we’re a more tempting target for annexation than any of us can resist, and poof,” he said, gesticulating with his hands, “we’re gone.”

  Travis had used a pencil to draw a line cutting all of Alta California in half. The greater portion was to the north, but there was still a sizable section to the south. “Offer the United States this,” he said, pointing at the northern portion, “and they will take a couple of generations absorbing it. All the while, we have around four hundred thousand miles between the gulf coast and the Pacific Ocean.”

  Zavala’s mind returned to the present, still smiling as he recalled telling Travis, “That’s the work of a couple of lifetimes.”

  The give and take between the two delegations had not been easy. Following the arrival of a courier from Mexico City, Herrera began signaling a change of heart. The final straw came when Wharton had asked, “would you rather have Texas as a neighbor or the United States?”

  Zavala long suspected were it not for Texas, and the tens of thousands of Americans who now called the republic home, the United States would be eying the sparsely populated parts of northern Mexico. And if, as General Travis implied, there were riches in the northern reaches, then the United States would simply reach out and take it from Mexico. It appeared Herrera had reached the same conclusion. Compared to Texas, Mexico had many advantages. Against the United States, those advantages were turned around.

  From there it was only a matter of negotiating the price for Alta California. The two presidents eventually settled on ten million pesos, payable over a ten-year period. The first payment was scheduled for the first of January 1844. Herrera had pushed for an earlier payment. Zavala suspected the recent news from Mexico City may have indicated another revolt. The sooner payment could be received, the sooner it could be used to put down the growing unrest in the central part of the country.

  Now, as he was about to sign the treaty, he was confident he was giving Texas something they could be proud of.

  The first article ended the war between Texas and Mexico.

  In the second article, Mexico acknowledged Santa Anna’s war crimes, and assented to his extradition to the Republic of Texas. It forbade Texas to use a military tribunal, and required the former dictator be given due process before, during, and following any trial.

  The third article validated the 1836 Treaty of Bexar.

  The fourth article ceded all of Alta California to Texas for the promised payment of ten million pesos, paid over a period of ten years. If Texas defaulted on payment, then the two nations agreed to a commission that would oversee the return of the province to Mexico. Zavala hated the last proviso, but it was necessary to obtain Herrera’s signature.

  The fifth article provided a path to Texas citizenship for all Mexicans living within Texas’ newly defined boundaries and provided a one-year period for Mexicans living in Texas to choose Texas citizenship or sell their property and return to Mexico. Zavala was cautiously optimistic this article would provide a boost to the nation’s population. Although there were perhaps ten thousand Mexicans living in California, there were upwards of fifty thousand living in what had once been Nuevo Mexico.

  The sixth article guaranteed free travel between the citizens of both nations along the Rio Grande and provided a commission to survey the boundary between the two countries, from the town of Ysleta to the Pacific Ocean.

  The seventh article required Texas police the Indian tribes within all its territory. Zavala worried about this provision. A commission was to meet annually between the two nations to adjudicate any claims resulting from Texas’ failure to keep raids from crossing the international boundary. It was another provision Herrera had insisted upon. While Texas had maintained an uneasy peace with all the Comanche bands, those same bands had freely traversed parts of West Texas on their way to raid into Mexico. How he would keep them from violating this provision remained a mystery.

  The eighth article made each nation responsible for any claims within their own borders regarding the costs of the war and passed Mexican liabilities to Texas regarding land disputes in the newly acquired territory.

  The ninth article freed half of the Mexican officers not yet paroled upon the signing of the treaty. The remainder would be released once the treaty was ratified by both nations’ deliberative bodies.

  The tenth article allowed both nations to fortify any position on their shared boundary and to require citizens of each country to present themselves to duly authorized representatives of their host nation.

  The eleventh article required Texas to remove all military personnel from Mexico upon the ratification of both nations’ deliberative bodies.

  Zavala stopped reading and took the quill lying beside the parchment and signed next to President Herrera’s signature. With a stroke of a pen, the war was finally over.

  ***

  The cantinas and bars of Saltillo were ringing with the sound of celebration as the town took on a carnival atmosphere. Will felt a little unstable on his feet as he left the building. He had to escape, every soldier with a couple of dollars in his pocket had tried to stand him for a drink. Had he remained, no doubt he would pass out on the floor before long.

  Instead, now he just needed to put one foot in front of the other, as he made his way back to the government building. Apart from the Mexicans who called Saltillo home, the only people on the streets were other Texians, intent on having a good time. He saw a couple of men sitting under the veranda as he approached. President Zavala and Secretary Warton were in a pair of rocking chairs. The president had a rare cigar lit in his mouth. “If you tell Emily, I’ll bust you down to a lieutenant and station you on some godforsaken border. After yesterday, I’ve got a lot more options available.”

  Still feeling the effects of cheap alcohol, Will held his hands up, “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Something had been bothering Will since the treaty’s signing the previous day, “Mr. President, we pushed really hard, do you figure Herrera will be able to force the treaty through the Mexican congress?”

  Zavala blew a ragged ring of smoke. “It’s anyone’s guess. I learned that he has some serious problems in Mexico City and it may be that a few heads will roll when he gets back there.”

  Will cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Zavala to continue. “Do you recall that post rider who came from Mexico City a few days ago? Turns out some of Herrera’s Centralist allies have rebelled. You may have noticed that General Urrea disappeared the next day. He’ll take cha
rge of an army they have been reassembling in San Luis Potosi. It’s not much, just a couple of thousand ill-equipped soldiers, but I suspect when he gets there, he’ll be leading that army south.”

  Will asked, “Do you think Herrera can stay in office?”

  “It’s not a sure thing, but Mexico is tired of war. Herrera offers the best hope for peace. He has confirmed that whatever congress he pulls together, he will ram the treaty through.” A sigh escaped Zavala’s lips. “It’s not ideal, and if things go too badly, we could find ourselves in another war with Mexico.”

  Will grimaced, “God, I hope not.”

  Zavala chuckled mirthlessly. “From your lips, Buck.” He slipped into the familiarity that ran throughout the government. “But I don’t think it will come to that. If Herrera can’t hold on to the presidency, then Mexico is looking at a civil war. On the other hand, if he can hold on, in few months he’s going to get a big boost from us when we make that first payment.”

  Will worried about that first payment, due at the beginning of the year. “Any idea where you’re going to find a million pesos?”

  He noticed Zavala’s focus and attention shift. It appeared the president was looking beyond Will. Curious, he turned around and saw a man on horseback riding across the plaza. The rider approached the three men. “I’ve got a message for General Travis.”

  Will turned around and used his index finger to raise the brim of his hat. “You found him.”

  The rider casually saluted with a wave of his hand. He reached into his jacket and brought out an oilskin packet and handed it over. Will asked, “Do you know the contents?”

  Reluctantly, the rider nodded. “It ain’t good, General, sir. I’d druther you read it than hear it from me.”

  Was it Becky? Was there a problem back home? Will found the rider’s reluctance to speak alarming. “Tell me, man. If you know something don’t wait on a damned letter.”