and man, the Chronicle itself had to admit that our courage was "unquestionable" but it consoled itself by placing the American and Mexican armies on the same level as partaking "pretty considerably of the nature of mobs." The victories of Contreras and Churubusco were viewed by the Times as calculated "to raise the confidence" of our enemy, and the editor announced that Scott, after these disastrous triumphs, was "much more likely to capitulate" than to capture Mexico. Naturally Britannia pronounced our invasion of the country "a great mistake," and asked in deep concern, How are the Americans going to get out of it?[1]
The occupation of the capital was regarded as only one misfortune more. "The Americans have played out their last card," roared the Thunderer, "and are still as far as ever from the game." Worse yet, it foresaw, we were now going to crown our outrages. The churches would be robbed, and "when churches are ransacked will houses be spared? When saints are despoiled will citizens be spared?" The war never can end, added the same paper, for "the invaders of Mexico. . . are not the men to build the temple of peace"; and retribution is inevitable, since the passion for conquest, which has already "extinguished" the political morality of the United States, will eventually impair their political institutions, and the annexed provinces will be an American Ireland.[2]
The treaty of peace caused no serious trouble. As early as January, 1846, Le Journal des Débats said the Americans would soon have California, and thus prepared its readers for the main feature of our terms. The United States will obtain California, for Mexico cannot pay an indemnity, echoed Le National. In reply to Aberdeen's hint on the opening of hostilities, that it would be imprudent for this country to appropriate any Mexican territory, McLane remarked that "it was at present not easy to foresee all the consequences of a war which Mexico had so wantonly provoked, and in which the United States had so much injustice and so many wrongs to redress"; and no British statesman could have failed to understand what this meant.[3]
When Folk's Message of December, 1846, clearly showed that we expected to retain California, the British newspapers set up an incoherent, savage growl; but the triumphs at Vera
