looked about for an instrument. One was easily found. Itúrbide's greed had finally driven him from his post, his fortune had been wasted in self-indulgence, and he was now desperate. Long since, his active mind had seen that if the Creole troops could be seduced, they—supported by the revolutionary sentiment of the people—could overmatch about half their number of Spanish regiments; and he agreed readily to become the champion of autocracy in order to betray it. Cleverly deceiving the government, he obtained a command through the aid of his backers, and, in order to clear the field, attacked Guerrero. To dispose of that wary foe proved, however, no easy task; so he negotiated privately with a public enemy, described himself as "destitute of ambition and self-interest," and finally inveigled the insurgent leader into joining the conspiracy. Victoria followed that example. Santa Anna, though recently made a lieutenant colonel by the Viceroy, came over with his men Other leaders did the same; and on February 24, 1821, Itúrbide felt strong enough to announce a programme, the famous Plan of Iguala.[1]
This declared for independence, a limited monarchy under a Bourbon king, the Roman Catholic church as the sole form of religion, the old fueros, the right of office-holders to retain their posts, the fraternal union and political equality of Gaehupines, Creoles and Indians, and the appointment of a committee (junta) to govern Mexico provisionally. No scheme could have seemed more inviting, and none could have been more delusive, for it ignored insurmountable difficulties and promised incompatible advantages. In all probability Itúrbide knew this; but prelates, troops, officials and people took the shining bait; O'Donojú, the new Spanish general. deciding it would be useless to fight, made a treaty with the revolutionary chief; and on September 27, 1821, Itfirbide carried the tricolor through the gate of the capital, stopped his gallant black charger at the convent of San Francisco, and received the golden keys of the city. Obedience, the sole basis of Mexican society, had been swept away; treachery and perjury had triumphed; and yet the unthinking multitude hurrahed.[2]
The generalísimo, violating the principle of popular sovereignty. now appointed the junta himself, excluding all the old revolutionists; that body in turn elected him and four as-
