America let his head loll back, enjoying the feel of the sunshine on his skin. His initial acrimony to the conflict had dulled, the open skies and fresh air doing away with the worst of his resent towards Polk and his behavior. And then he had joined in with the fighting. Warfare, while bitter, was enough to drive the thoughts out of anyone's mind. And Taylor was a pleasant guy, honest and truly concerned for his soldiers, not to mention dedicated to his position. It was his life, and his soldiers listened to him out of respect and love, not fear. If only all generals could be like this.
Polk had written extensive notes to them, detailing his plans for conquering Mexico. Three-steps, simple and clear. Hopefully effective.
But still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about this. The hunch was only cemented days later when they arrived at Buena Vista.
This time around, the Mexican soldiers well outnumbered the American. Three to one, Taylor told him. As he readied the troops, issuing orders that were carried out without question, America gathered his surroundings. Every battle thus far he had looked for Mexico. But in the chaos of war, it was difficult. The presence of another Nation was striking, but while fighting even the most obvious details could be missed.
The first gun shots rang out, and the mêlée began in earnest. Shouts sounded in accompaniment, the thud of feet on packed dirt. America joined in, ever vigilant for that familiar sense of being that only fellow Nation's emitted. Ducking, sprinting, Taylor's voice a reassuring volley of commands in the background. Twice he was almost hit, the bullets grazing his arms, barely touching.
And so it continued on, at once monotonous and thrilling, terrible and exciting, as battle always was. Taylor found him awhile in, shouting something at him over the noise. "Santa Anna" was all he got. The former president of Mexico. Was he here somewhere amid this chaos? America wished he had paid more attention to the briefing before hand, but he had been too exasperated by Polk's newest letter to do so.
He wants a small war, America mused to himself, continuing to fight as Taylor returned to issuing orders, the momentary lapse not fazing him in the least. Just large enough to require a treaty of peace, and not large enough to make military reputations dangerous to his stupid presidency. Was that all Polk cared about? Himself, bettering his chances of reelection? It seemed to be the case, with the way he was going on.
It was then that America felt something. That familiar presence, the very feeling that had alerted Spain all those years ago to what he really was. A Nation was nearby. Quickly America glanced about, his eyes not finding anyone of significance. Or so he thought, until his eyes landed on something odd. Something extremely odd, and very out of place amid the fighting.
A girl. She was dressed in military garb, her long dark hair pulled severely back into a pony tail, but her gender was unmistakable. What in the world…?
And it was her, he realized with a jolt. She was Mexico, Mexico was a girl. All this time he had been fighting a girl. Suddenly, the fighting felt all the more wrong, the justifications all the more fabricated.
When Taylor commented later, after it was all over, on the reason for his foul mood, America didn't know what to tell him. We've been fighting a girl. A girl…heroes don't fight girls.
Instead he made up a lame excuse about a stomach ache, and went to bed earlier. The sleep might just do him some good.
"It's wrong," Thoreau explained between measured bites. It had just so happened that he was at Emerson's this time around, taking a break from his self-imposed exile. "Attacking a weaker Nation…for what? Greed, wealth, slavery expansion…it's vile." He spat the last sentence, striking a chord further in the young Nation.
"I know," he replied lamely, feeling the sickness in his stomach coil all over again. Taylor had been more understanding than he could hope, promising not to tell Polk that he was leaving for a little while. 'Clearing his head', Taylor had called it, with a knowing smile. "But we need to finish what we started, I suppose. That doesn't make me like the idea any more."
"Tough spot, my friend," Thoreau sympathized.
Emerson watched the two carefully for a moment, before adding his input. "One must do what they must. And if you are to be understood, you aren't in full control of your actions. How bizarre a notion."
"I…" America caught a lump in his throat, moving past it. "I like to think that's not the case. But England…everyone really, has said so. And I'm starting to believe them."
"There's always a way to act on your own," Thoreau assured. "Don't let it get to you. You are your people, of course, but foremost, you are yourself."
Their words stuck in the young Nation's mind as he prepared for the long journey back to Mexico.
Historical Notes: In the summer of 1846 Antonio López de Santa Anna returned from exile and quickly seized power. He put drew together an army and began to march north. When Taylor heard of this, he drew back from Agua Nueva, where he was stationed, to the mountain pass Buena Vista. Santa Anna arrived at Agua Nueva, his troops exhausted from the long march there, and, perceiving the withdrawal to Buena Vista as a retreat, asked for a surrender. The American forces refused, and so came the battle. Once, again, the Americans defeated the much larger force, three times larger than their own.
Polk was afraid that military leaders would use their success in the war to win in the nearing 1848 election, like Jackson had done. Because of this, he allowed party considerations to control his choice of generals. Unfortunately for Polk, both Taylor and Winfield Scott, the commanding officer in Washington, were Whigs. But Taylor had dedicated his life to the military, and commanded his men by their love and respect. He had no political ambitions, and cared little for politics in general. Opposition to the Mexican War grew in the North. Many Northerners feared that the war would result in the expansion of slavery. Others felt Polk had misled Congress about the original outbreak of fighting and that the United States was actually the aggressor.
Polk, a decent military planner, came up with a three part plan for success. First, clear the Mexicans out of Texas and occupy Northern Mexico, then take New Mexico and California, and finally march on Mexico City. Proceeding west from the Rio Grande, Taylor quickly overran Mexico's Northern provinces. In June 1846, American settlers in the Sacramento Valley seized Sonoma and raised the Bear Flag of the Republic of California. Another group, lead by Captain John C. Fremont—leader of an American exploring part that happened to be in the area—fought Mexican authorities around Monterey, California, and then joined with the Sonoma rebels. A naval squadron under Commodore John D. Sloat captured Monterey and San Francisco in July 1846, and a group of cavalry joined the other American units in clearing out the areas around San Diego and Los Angeles. By February 1847, the United States had won control of nearly all of Mexico north of the capital city.
At this time period, America was in the age of romanticism. Romantics believed change and growth were the essence of life. They valued feelings and intuition over facts and pure thought, a counter product to the previous Age of Reason. The romantic concepts also fit with Jackson's ideals, and his lack of emphasis on education and science.
The transcendentalists were a branch of the romantics. Romantic in nature, they believed humans had no boundaries and could only fail from lack of trying. Literally, it means "to go beyond the world of the senses". Emerson was the leading transcendentalist thinker. He made a living as a traveling lecturer, and was against industrialization, urging Americans away form the ways of "corrupt" Europe. He was very individualistic, but too idealistic to accept compromises. He disliked powerful governments.
Thoreau was much of a pupil to Emerson, sharing much of his ideas. He built a cabin in the woods at Walden pond to prove that man did not need civilization, though he did stop by at Emerson's house—he had built the cabin on Emerson's land—for a good meal and company now and again. He wrote the book Walden, about his experiences on his own. He was also very against the Mexican-American war, saying it was unjust because it would extent slavery. When he refused to pay taxes to support the war, he was jailed, if only for a night as his aunt bailed him out.
America is sexist...because it's accurate. I apologize if it offends anyone.
Happy Birthday to the Italies ^^ I wrote a short story from Thoreau's point of view for English awhile ago, that America sprang into. I uploaded it earlier today if anyone wants to check it out.