certain than your statement that [the] war will have to become defensive [on our part]."[1]
Moreover it was argued, said the Mexican minister of relations in 1849, that the invaders would be unable to obtain resources of any description from the Country about them, would be masters of nothing but the ground actually occupied, and would find the difficulty of maintaining themselves, at such a distance from their base, "invincible." On the other hand should invasion by sea be attempted, the Americans would have to struggle with tempestuous waters, a coast guarded by reefs and currents, lowlands protected by "a terrible and faithful ally" as Cuevas described the yellow fever, more than one tremendous wall of mountains, and bad roads that could easily be closed; and they would find no vital point of attack within practicable reach. The United States cannot hope to conquer Mexico, was the conclusion of the London Morning Herald, commonly regarded as a ministerial organ; While the Paris Globe, reputed to be Guizot's personal voice, went farther, and predicted that undertaking to do it would be "ruinous, fatal" to us.[2]
Should we, however, care to make the attempt, Mexico — it was pointed out — would not only fight on the defensive, and enjoy all the advantages of knowing the ground, moving on inside lines, and using fortifications, but would also be able to strike. Nothing would be paid on our claims, either principal or interest. There was considerable American property in the country; and while the means of her citizens were being spent in righteous self-defence, that property could hardly expect exemption. Above all, one "terrible weapon," as the Mexican consul at New Orleans termed it, could be wielded night and day, near and far, without expense and without risk. This was the issuance of commissions to privateers, for the "nefarious" conduct of the United States in using this weapon, said the London Times, authorized Mexico to do the same. The pursuit of slavers had been so close of late that many fine Baltimore clippers, able to outsail anything but a steamer and to go where a steamer could not, were lying idle in Cuban ports, ready to scour the Gulf and the Atlantic.[3]
No less vulnerable seemed the United States in the Pacific Ocean, where — according to the New York Herald American
