Mexican-American War – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Treaty ended lingering questions about Spain’s 300 years in North America

The Mexican War diary of Sgt. George W. Myers details his company’s travels and military exploits from the time they left Baltimore in February 1847 until they returned to New Orleans from Mexico in July 1848. It sold for $10,625 at a March 2014 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo (Feb. 2, 1848) was a remarkable document. Primarily it was intended to officially end the Mexican-American War (1846-48). After being ratified by both countries, it was proclaimed on July 5, 1848. The war had started in April 1846 after the U.S. Congress overwhelmingly voted to support President James Knox Polk’s recommendation. For too many years, there had been a distracting dispute over the Republic of Texas and Polk had finally decided to elevate the issue in his hierarchy of priorities. He had committed to serving a single four-year term as president and was determined to resolve this issue in the limited time available.

The United States may have already had a legitimate claim on Texas, depending on how the legal boundary of the 1803 Louisiana Purchase from France was imagined. Some claimed that Texas was included (in toto) in the vast territory the United States had acquired under President Jefferson. Precisely what had been purchased was not clear since the wording of the agreement was vague and did not specify exact boundaries. Negotiations had intentionally avoided this level of detail in a rush to complete the deal.

Earlier, before the establishment of fixed boundaries, a Constitutional issue had questioned whether a formal amendment was required since the Constitution did not contemplate actions of this nature. In the end, it was decided to simply approve the purchase using a Senate-approved treaty and the vote was 24-7. It actually took until 1819 to resolve the boundaries and the fact that there were now 30,000 American settlers in Texas made it a rather moot point. However, military action was required to resolve the issue permanently.

There had been a chance to annex Texas in 1836 after the former province won its independence from Mexico, but the possibility of a war with Mexico delayed any action. However, in 1844, President John Tyler initiated negotiations with the new Republic of Texas and a Treaty of Annexation was agreed to. The U.S. Congress soundly rejected the treaty ostensibly because of the war issue, but really because admitting Texas to the Union would disturb the delicate balance of “free states-slave states.” Texas was firmly a slave state and would later secede from the Union and join the Confederacy during the Civil War.

John Tyler was elected the 10th vice president in 1840 on a ticket topped by William Henry Harrison, a military man born in 1773 and the last president born as a British subject in the 13 Colonies. Harrison died 31 days after being inaugurated, thus becoming the first president to die in office. After a brief debate, since the Constitution didn’t include any rules on presidential secession, Vice President Tyler became the 10th president. He holds the dubious distinction of serving longer than any president in U.S. history not elected to the office (four years minus 31 days).

However, he lost support for re-election in 1844 and on Aug. 20 dropped out of the race. In return, President-elect James Knox Polk agreed to support the Texas annexation. Lame-duck President Tyler managed to get a joint-resolution of annexation approved on March 1, 1845 … just three days before Polk’s inauguration. Texas was admitted to the Union on Feb. 19, 1846.

Now it was time to conclude the war with Mexico and all the lingering questions about Spain’s 300 years in North America. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was a convenient mechanism since the Mexican Army was defeated and the capital was occupied. For $15 million, Mexico ceded 55 percent of its total territory, including present-day Arizona, California, New Mexico, Texas, Colorado, Nevada and Utah. The Louisiana Purchase had doubled the size of the United States and this treaty doubled it again … along with providing access to the Pacific Ocean.

President Polk served his four-year term and, as promised, declined to run again. On Nov. 7, 1848 – in the first instance of all states casting presidential ballots on the same day – General Zachary Taylor was elected president. James Polk returned to his home in Nashville, Tenn., and died on June 15, 1849, a mere 103 days after the inauguration … the shortest retirement in history. His mother Jane Knox would die in 1852, marking the first time a president was outlived by his mother.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Fillmore Among Presidents Who Juggled Balance Between Free and Slave States

This folk art campaign banner for Millard Fillmore’s failed 1856 bid for the presidency sold for $11,950 at a June 2013 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

On his final day in office, President James Polk wrote in his diary: “Closed my official term of President of the United States at 6am this morning.”

Later, after one last stroll through the silent White House, he penned a short addendum: “I feel exceedingly relieved that I am now free from all public cares. I am sure that I will be a happier man in my retirement than I have been for 4 years ….” He died 103 days later, the shortest retirement in presidential history and the first president survived by his mother. His wife Sarah (always clad only in black) lived for 42 more lonely years.

The Washington, D.C., that greeted his successor, General Zachary Taylor (“Old Rough and Ready”), still looked “unfinished” – even after 50 years of planning and development. The Mall was merely a grassy field where cows and sheep peacefully grazed. The many plans developed in the 1840s were disparate projects. Importantly, the marshy expanse south of the White House was suspected of emitting unhealthy vapors that were especially notable in the hot summers. Cholera was the most feared disease and it was prevalent until November each year when the first frost appeared.

Naturally, the affluent left the Capitol for the entire summer. Since the Polks had insisted on remaining, there was a widespread belief that his death so soon after departing was directly linked to spending the presidential summers in the White House. The theory grew even stronger when Commissioner of Public Buildings Charles Douglas proposed to regrade the sloping fields into handsome terraces under the guise of “ornamental improvement.” Insiders knew the real motive was actually drainage and sanitation to eliminate the foul air that hung ominously around the White House. (It’s not clear if Donald Trump’s campaign promise to “drain the swamp” was another effort or a political metaphor.)

President Taylor was inaugurated with a predictable storm of jubilation since his name was a household word. After a 40-year career in the military (1808-1848), he had the distinction of serving in four difference wars: War of 1812, Black Hawk War (1832), Second Seminole War (1835-1842), and the Mexican-American War (1846-1848). By 1847, Taylormania broke out and his picture was everywhere … on ice carts, tall boards, fish stands, butcher stalls, cigar boxes and so on. After four years under the dour Polk, the public was ready to once again idolize a war hero with impeccable integrity and a promise to staff his Cabinet with the most experienced men in the country.

Alas, a short two years later, on July 9, 1850, President Taylor became the second president to die in office (William Henry Harrison lasted 31 days). On July 4, after too long in the hot sun listening to ponderous orations and too much ice water to cool off, he returned to the White House. It was there that he gorged on copious quantities of cherries, slathered with cream and sugar. After dinner, he developed severe stomach cramps and then the doctors took over and finished him off with calomel opium, quinine and, lastly, raising blisters and drawing blood. He survived this for several days and the official cause of death was cholera morbus, a gastrointestinal illness common in Washington where poor sanitation made it risky to eat raw fruit and fresh dairy products in the summer.

Vice President Millard Fillmore took the oath of office and spent the rest of the summer trying to catch up. Taylor had spent little time with his VP and then the entire Cabinet submitted their resignations over the next few days, which Fillmore cheerfully accepted. He immediately appointed a new Cabinet featuring the great Daniel Webster as Secretary of State. On Sept. 9, 1850, he signed a bill admitting California as the 31st state and as “a free state.” This was the first link in a chain that became the Compromise of 1850.

The Constitutional Congress did not permit the words “slave” or “slavery” since James Madison thought it was wrong to admit in the Constitution the idea that men could be considered property. In order to get enough states to approve it, it also prohibited Congress from passing any laws blocking it for 20 years (1808), by which it was assumed slavery would have long been abandoned for economic reasons. However, cotton production flourished after the invention of the cotton gin and on Jan. 1, 1808, President Thomas Jefferson signed into law that “Congress will have the power to exterminate slavery from our borders.”

This explains why controlling Congress was key to controlling slavery, so all the emphasis turned to maintaining a delicate balance whenever a new state was to be admitted … as either “free” or “slave.” Fillmore thus became the first of three presidents – including Franklin Pierce and James Buchanan – who worked hard to maintain harmony. However, with the election of Abraham Lincoln in 1860, it was clear what would happen … and all the Southern states started moving to the exit signs.

A true Civil War was now the only option to permanently resolving the slavery dilemma and it came with an enormous loss of life, property and a culture that we still struggle with yet today. That dammed cotton gin!

Civil War Soldiers Found Themselves in New, Far Deadlier Warfare

A Confederate Civil War enlisted man’s jacket, captured by Union soldiers at Cumberland Gap, sold for $41,825 at a June 2008 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Surprisingly, very little written about the Civil War attempts to correlate the level of carnage with changes in armaments and tactics by both sides that almost literally required sacrificing troops in battles over real estate, rather than simply destroying the other side’s capacity to wage war.

When shots first rang out, American officers – Federal and Confederate – had last faced combat in 1846-47 in the Mexican-American War, armed with smoothbore flintlock muskets with a range of barely 200 yards. Now, more modern rifle-muskets, the English-made caliber .557 or Austrian Lorenz caliber .54, were accurate up to 600 yards and capable of killing at 1,000 yards. Soldiers found themselves in a new, far more deadly sort of war.

Artillery was no longer viable within 300 yards without suffering prohibitive losses. Cavalry charges against unbroken infantry attacks were risky, costly encounters. The result was an infantryman with a rifle-musket suddenly dominated and literally forced into the use of field fortifications. Both sides began the war with the same drill manuals and same tactics, only modifying them to fit the infantry weapons. However, it was a slow process and well into 1862 before either side had a majority of rifle-muskets, and even then the slow rate of fire made it necessary to use masses of men to attack or defend.

At Shiloh in April 1862, Confederate General Albert Sidney Johnston’s initial attack was delivered by two corps – one behind the other – and two more held in column as reserves. The two-day casualty count was nearly 24,000, a new historic high (including the death of Johnston). At Gettysburg (July 1863), Pickett’s famous charge, “the high-water mark of the Confederacy,” was three brigades deep and at Atlanta in 1864, Confederate General John Bell Hood formed his brigades with their regiments in columns – one behind the other – giving them a depth of eight to 12 men all lined up to be slaughtered.

Perhaps the most marked tactical feature of the Civil War was the employment of heavy entrenchments, made of whatever material was available. Little-used before 1863, but after the sunken roads at Fredericksburg and stone farm fences at Gettysburg, the average soldier wisely concluded to dig in. Throughout 1864 and 1865, troops in the vicinity of the enemy, even if ordered to attack, would entrench using tin cups, discarded halves of canteens and knives or sticks.

It gradually transformed the war to one of attrition, a fact that was not lost on General Ulysses Grant, who was willing to make big sacrifices since he knew the South was resource-constrained and General William Tecumseh Sherman was on a rampage destroying everything in a broad swath through the South and confident he could stamp out the last vestiges of hope and willingness to continue in the process. It was a lethal combination that was impossible to defend against.

Though the war ended in his defeat, the Confederate infantryman earned a reputation for hard fighting, swift maneuvering, and endurance amid extreme hardships against vastly superior forces. Trusted officers could lead them against any danger, except for any West Pointers or those with pomp and circumstances, which became a moot point, since both victory and defeat killed large numbers and eventually it became impossible to replace them with men of courage and competence. Even Grant in his memoirs commented on how his men were hesitant to fight even when they had a 5-to-1 advantage at times.

A British observer concluded that the Confederate infantry could accomplish wonders – but at a cost the South could not afford.