Santa Anna (Gained the Day)

Let's face it. The famous sea shanty "Santa Anna (Gained the Day)" is not sung for its historical accuracy. But it does make a rousing tune when sung by vocalists of ability. The rendering by the Clancy Brothers with Tommy Makem is particularly notable.

People who have seen the portraits of a lean and rugged Antonio de López de Santa Anna as well as the photograph taken in his old age are surprised when they see an earlier daguerreotype of the Mexican soldier and political leader. In the now famous stereographic image, he seems to be quite the pleasant chap.

Of course, it is possible the daguerreotype is not Santa Anna. Printing on the case identified the daguerreotypists as the Meade Brothers, Charles and Henry, who with their enterprising sister, Mary Ann, established a studio in New York which was in business from 1842 to 1865. But the label does not identify the sitter.

So the cons against the identification is that there is no name on the case, and the face is also a bit chubbier and softer than the lean and rugged Santa Anna of earlier (and later) years. The later was a type of photograph called a carte de visite taken around 1870 and is specifically labeled "Santa Anna". That photograph is of an elderly man with a gaunt and craggy face bearing a stern and even severe expression. The top part of the sitter's head in the earlier photo is not as wide as the later picture. More importantly, from the date on the earlier case, Santa Anna would have been at least 59 years old and the photo seems to show a man of about 40 or even less.¹

Of course, there are pros for the identification. Two experts in Texas and Mexican military history identified the daguerreotype as the famous Mexican general, and the long face, eye shapes, hair style, and the form of the mouth do fit with the later photo. The nose is similar in both pictures although in the earlier picture the proboscis appears somewhat narrower. Of course, this difference could easily be due to aging as well as being an effect of different camera angles. From the date on the case we know the daguerreotype was not taken earlier than 1853 and there are some who maintain that this fits the time when Santa Anna was in New York.

Ha? (To quote Shakespeare.) Did you say Santa Anna was in New York?

Yep. From the mid-1850's into the 1860's, there were times General Antonio de Lopez de Santa Anna was in New York. And we mean New York City, USA. More on that later.

Another of the Meade Brothers many clients was a rather irascible and at times bibulous former US Senator who liked wearing funny hats. This was, of course, Samuel Houston. Sam had the Meades take his picture in 1851 when he was 58 years old. We must say Sam looks quite a bit older than the photo of Antonio, again raising questions about the identification of Antonio's photo.

Oh, Santa Anna, he set forth!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

To drive insurgentes² from the North!

Along the plains of Mexico!

Antonio was born in 1794 in Xalapa near the port city of Veracruz which is about 500 miles down the coast from Corpus Christi. His parents were fairly well-off and as a kid Antonio showed an interest in soldiering. By the time he was twenty, he was in the Spanish army.

Yes, the Spanish army. During Antonio's youth Mexico was then part of the massive Spanish Empire. The Empire was literally one on which the sun never set.

But there were murmurings of discontent in what Columbus had called un mundo nuevo. For one thing in 1808 Napoléon invaded France - supposedly one of France's allies - and installed his brother, Joseph, as king. But the actual king, Ferdinand VII, was still recognized as the legitimate ruler by many Spanish citizens as well as by England, Nappy's biggest enemy. Since no one in Mexico knew who was the real king, many began thinking maybe Mexico should go it alone.

Then in 1810 a priest named Miguel Hidalgo was living in Dolores, a town about 160 miles northwest of Mexico City. Father Miguel was not really concerned with Ferdinand's or Joseph's wrangling, but he was not happy with the way Spain had kept slavery as an institution throughout the Empire and the way the lands of the indigenous people had been seized to create the massive haciendas for the Spanish nobility. His preachings began stirring discontent and even open rebellion against Spain.

Now if the Spanish authorities had merely shipped Miguel off to an out of the way parish there probably would have been no problem. But in 1811, he was arrested, tortured, and executed. When news got out about Miguel's fate, even more people began to clamor for Mexico's independence. For ten years there was a full fledged civil war in Mexico against Spain.

Originally, Antonio was a soldier on the side of Spain and had agreed to lead an army fighting the "rebels". But he prudently changed sides when it became evident Spain was going to lose. Such flexibility marked a key characteristic of Antonio's personality. By 1821 Antonio had emerged as the victorious hero of what is now known as the Mexican War of Independence.

Let's face it. Mexican history is EXTREMELY complicated and you really can't tell the good guys from the bad guys. But Antonio continued his rise in the ranks, and by April, 1833, he had been elected el presidente of the new Republic. So for now, at least, Antonio was a good guy.

What seems odd to us but was routine for Antonio was that he was always turning his presidential duties over to his vice president. Instead Antonio divided his time between lounging on his haciendas and leading the army to quell the fairly frequent revolts.

It didn't help that Spain had left Mexico with a big mess to clean up. Starting in the early 1800's the Spanish government had been allowing groups from the United States to settle in the Spanish territory north of the Rio Grande. Specifically the Americans were settling in the region known as Tejas or more formally Coahuila y Tejas. For their part the Americans had agreed to become full Spanish citizens and convert to Catholicism. Among the former US but now Spanish citizens were a father and son duo of lead miners named Moses and Stephen Fuller Austin.

But it seems that there were also Americans coming in and settling on the land without permission or adhering to any agreements. They just up and came in. Now that Antonio was president of an independent Mexico, he was determined to deal with these illegal immigrants who were taking land and jobs away from honest hard working Mexicans.

Of course, then as now Texans were an ornery lot, and by June, 1935 the Anglos were in full revolt. Finally on March 2, 1836, a bunch of them - including our friend Sam Houston - met in Washington-on-the-Brazos about 90 miles east of Austin. There they declared Texas was a Republic and fully independent of Mexico.

¡Anda! ¡Basta! Santa Anna gathered an army and headed to el Norte.

Los Soldados came from near and far!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

To fight the rebels at Bexar!

Along the plains of Mexico!

Antonio did not recognize the Texians'³ claim of independence. In fact, he said that everyone in their rag-tag army were illegal combatants, and he went so far as to brand them piratas. He ordered that in any battle there were to be no prisoners taken and any happenstance survivors would be dealt with most severely. And we mean most severely.

As everyone knows, such was the case when the Texans under the command of William Barret Travis took refuge at la Misión de San Antonio de Valero which was part of the small settlement of San Antonio de Bexar. Rather than use the lengthy jaw-cracking names, people just said Bexar (pronounced BAY-HAR⁴). But possibly from the type of trees in the area, some Mexican soldiers that had been stationed there gave the mission the name of the Alamo.

Pretty much everyone knows the story. On February 23, 1936, Antonio and his army arrived at Bexar and on March 6, Antonio ordered an attack on the Alamo. Except for some women and children and two slaves, every American - including a former US Congressman named David Crockett - was killed, either during the fight or from Antonio's orders after the battle. Then on March 27, groups of Americans prisoners totaling over 400 men who were being held at the small village of Goliad 85 miles southeast of the Alamo were all lined up and shot. A few though were "only" wounded and managed to escape.

Antonio now felt he was in the driver's seat. Clearly this was the time for him to "handle" Sam once and for all.

The Tex-i-ans were on the lam,

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Now Santa Anna would catch Big Sam.

Along the plains of Mexico!

Sam, though, had adopted what we can call "Samian Tactics". That is, whenever Antonio's Army (sounds kind of like a golf entourage, doesn't it?) got too close, Sam would just up and pull out. But the government officials of the Republic of Texas expressed dissatisfaction with Sam's strategy and were talking about replacing him with a bit more assertive general.

But then on April 21, Antonio and his soldiers were taking a welcome break near the San Jacinto River not far from the island of Gálvez which was part of the port where the Texans had been bringing in the new settlers. Surely, Antonio figured, Sam would not be so discourteous as to attack during Siesta Time.

Santa Anna took a nap.

Hooray! Santy Anno!

And fell into Sam Houston's trap!

Along the plains of Mexico!

But of course the rough-hewed Sam did just that. The - quote - "Battle" - unquote - of San Jacinto lasted all of twenty minutes. The total casualties were something like Texans-40 / Mexicans-1200.⁵

But Antonio got away disguised as either as an ordinary soldier or a peasant depending on who's telling the story. But as the Texans began their mopping up operations, Antonio was captured although he remained incognito. So he was taken to the Texans' encampment as an ordinary prisoner.

But there the other prisoners recognized their boss. They all stood up and saluted, shouting "El Presidente! Viva el Presidente!". So the game was up and Antonio was taken to see Sam who was sitting underneath a tree recovering from a leg wound.

"You're Santa Anna?" asked Big Sam.

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Said Santa Anna, "Yes, I am!"

Along the plains of Mexico!

So on May 14, 1836, the Treaty of Velasco was drawn up and duly signed. According to the terms Antonio would cease military operations and hostilities in Texas, he would remove his troops to the area south of the Rio Grande, and any property of the Texans that was seized during the war would be returned.

Yet Antonio was rather sneaky. Strictly speaking he did not agree that Texas was an independent republic. Instead the treaty allowed Sam and the others to negotiate with the Mexican government to grant them independence.

Of course, the Mexican government had no intention of doing any such thing. And because Antonio was a prisoner of war he had no authority to make agreements anyway. So anything he said was null and void.

But in the end it didn't make much difference. Having to bear the costs of the War of Independence and now the war against Texas, the finances of the Mexican government were in sad shape. There simply was no longer enough resources to keep up the fight.

Santa Anna went on his way.

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Saying "Who wants Texas anyway?"

Along the plains of Mexico!

One concession to Antonio, though, was he would be returned to Veracruz where he could (again) retire to his lavish hacienda. Or rather, the treaty specified, he would be returned to Veracruz - quote - as soon as it shall be deemed proper - unquote.

And just when was a time "deemed proper"? Well, it certainly wouldn't be "proper" just to turn Antonio loose right away. After all a lot of people on both sides of the Rio Grande were mad at him. If they just let him mount a horse and ride back to Mexico, he might encounter difficulties. So Sam decided it might be best just to let things cool down.

Santa Anna left the land

Hooray! Santy Anno!

To shake Old Hickory by the hand!

Along the plains of Mexico!

So after keeping Antonio on ice for seven months, Sam put him on a ship and sent him to Washington, D. C.. Yes, Mr. Santa Anna Goes to Washington. There he met President Andrew Jackson who just happened to be a good friend of Sam's.

Antonio and Andy met in January, 1837, and evidently the meeting was cordial enough. But Andy did wonder why Antonio had to be so mean at the Alamo and Goliad. If Antonio told Andy what he told others, he said the Texans made him do it.⁶ Antonio then took another ship and headed home to Veracruz.

Not surprisingly when Antonio got back to Mexico, he found his reputation as the "Napoléon of Mexico" was somewhat tarnished. Anastacio Bustamante was elected to the Presidency in his stead, and yes, Antonio retired to his hacienda near Veracruz

They said Santa Anna's day was done!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Then came the fight for rolls and buns!

Along the plains of Mexico!

It looked like it was all up for Antonio. After all, there's not much of a market for ex-presidents who give up 150 million square miles of their country's land. But suddenly what should have been a minor incident in Mexico City gave Antonio the wherewithal to come back into, well, we'll call it public service.

After the War of Independence, Mexico and France had established diplomatic relations. Naturally Mexican cities had their contingent of French nationals. But in 1832, a group of soldiers in Mexico City allegedly trashed a French pastry shop and stole all the goodies. The owner complained to the King of France, Louis Philippe, who demanded the Mexican government pay for the damage. But the Mexican officials investigated and said there had been no damage or looting. Instead there were just accrued delinquent payments which they would gladly pay. But France claimed the investigation was a whitewash and demanded 3 million francs in compensation.

Presidente Bustamante adopted the standard diplomatic procedure for handling such difficulties. He simply didn't dignify the questions with an answer. Naturally, Louis didn't want to look like a wimp and so he ordered a fleet of ships to Veracruz. In late November, 1838, the French began a bombardment of the port and by December, they had taken the city.

The war brought Antonio back into Mexican political life. As he was already near Veracruz, he organized an army and led them to the city. But it seems that attacking a well trained foreign army was a bit more of a challenge than fighting 200 ragamuffins in Texas. During the action Antonio was wounded and so severely that he had to have his leg amputated. For the rest of his life he walked on wooden prosthetic.

At least Antonio had stalled the French advance. In March 1839 a settlement was reached and the Pastry War - that's what historians call it - was over. And Antonio had once again emerged as a hero.

But winning a war over a bunch of brioches really didn't help things. The government remained in turmoil with rebellions in different of the country continually breaking out. Finally in 1841 and as a way to help restore order, Congress asked Antonio to serve as an interim president with virtually unlimited power. Although he left office voluntarily after a few months, the unrest remained. So Antonio returned to Mexico City and served as president until 1844.

During this tumultuous time, Antonio had major changes to his personal life as well. In 1825 he had married Maria Inès de la Paz Garcia, the young daughter of prominent (and rich) Spanish residents of Alverado about 40 miles southeast along the coast from Veracruz. Antonio had been too busy to attend the wedding himself, and some historians mention it was a "marriage of convenience". Certainly Maria's dowry had been bountiful and in fact had included the hacienda near Veracruz. Still she and Antonio went on to have four kids, and as the First Lady, Maria was well liked by the people.

But in 1844, Maria died at the early age of 33. Almost immediately Antonio married María de Los Dolores de Tosta another young woman from a well-set up family. It's not clear how much of a real marriage this one was since they were seldom together and had no kids.

Of course Antonio had a country to run and that takes not just time but money. So Antonio demanded cash - "voluntary" contributions, he said - from all Mexican families. He also raised other taxes and duties, demanded money from the Church (he said they were just - chuckle - "loans"), and even sold off land rights to English companies.

The trouble is no one really knew where the money went. But it certainly wasn't being used to help raise the standard of living for the ordinary Mexican citizens. By 1844 the country was in worse shambles than ever and the economy was collapsing. And as the poor became poorer, Antonio was spending a good part of his time living on his haciendas while the vice president handled business.

So what do you do when you have an absentee president who's draining the country's coffers? Well, soon it became time for the Mexican Congress to shout ¡Basta!⁷

On December 2, 1844, in what has been called "The Revolution of Three Hours", the Congress convened and declared Antonio was out of office. They gave Antonio two choices. He could stay in Mexico and be imprisoned (or worse) or he could beat it. Taking the second option, Antonio beat it - to Cuba.

But things wouldn't just simmer down. By 1845 the new President, José Joaquín Antonio Florencio de Herrera y Ricardos, had gotten quite irritated with Jimmy Polk who kept saying that all the land north of the Rio Grande was part of the Manifest Destiny of the United States to spread from Sea to Shining Sea. But José held that the Americans had agreed to stay above the Nueces River which is about 130 miles to the north. So calling a shovel and shovel, the disputed land in between the rivers became known as the Disputed Lands.

Of course, what REALLY gave José mucha cólera was when in February, 1845, the United States annexed Texas. The Texans had always planned to join the United States but for nine years had been operating as an independent republic. But this land, Mexico said, was their land from California to the Cozumel Island. Nevertheless, to show that he was a reasonable man, Jimmy sent a group of diplomats to negotiate. But José wouldn't even see them.

Jimmy decided the only thing to do was to get tough. After all with José being una inmensa patada en los huevos what else could he do but ask Congress for a Declaration of War?

But Jimmy knew that declaring war just because José was a stubborn cuss was going to be a tough sell. Although the slavery issue wouldn't really explode until 1850, there were increasing numbers of anti-slavery congressmen - such as that pesky junior representative from Illinois named Abraham Lincoln - who thought that annexing Texas was simply a way to slip another slave state into the Union.

Then in April, 1846, Presidente Mariano Paredes - yes, there was a new Mexican president - handed Jimmy the declaration on a silver platter. Mariano ordered troops north across the Rio Grande. There was a skirmish during where sixteen American soldiers under the command of General (and later President) Zachary Taylor, "Old Rough and Ready", were either killed or wounded.

Ha! Now Jimmy could go to Congress and point out that Mexico had - quote - "spilled American blood on American soil" - unquote. Congress obligingly voted in favor of war even though the vote on May 13 was no means unanimous since Abe and his buddies voted no.

Santa Anna told Jimmy Polk!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

"I'll make peace for all you folks!"

Along the plains of Mexico!

Really the last thing Mexico needed was yet another armed conflict with their feisty northern neighbors. So Antonio, who was still in Cuba, got ahold of Jimmy and volunteered to negotiate a peace treaty. That sounded good to Jimmy and he dispatched a ship to Cuba to take Antonio to Mexico.

Yes, "I'll make peace for all you folks!"

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Was one of Santa Anna's jokes!

Along the plains of Mexico!

But Mexico had also declared war reciprocally on May 23, 1846. Always a loyal patriota mexicano, Antonio now volunteered - yes, but to lead the troops against the United States. This began what the Mexicans began calling la Intervención Estadounidense en México or in succinct English, the Mexican-American War.

Antonio had arrived at a most opportune time, at least for him. From September 4, 1844, when he involuntarily left office, to March 21, 1847, Mexico had gone through six - count' em - six presidents. In an effort to gain stability while proving that some people just don't learn, Antonio was made el presidente yet again. And yes, he immediately turned civilian functions over to his vice president. Then Antonio mounted his horse and led the troops north.

Actually things didn't look too good for the Americans. The US forces had to fight over an area ranging over the present day states of Texas, Arizona, Mexico, and California. Then as like as not they would have to invade Mexico. That was a tall order.

Santa Anna laughed "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Then the Yanks came into Mexico!

Along the plains of Mexico!

But that's exactly what they did. Zachary's forces crossed the Rio Grande and headed south.

Now the song isn't entirely incorrect. When the Americans entered Monterrey about 100 miles from the Rio Grande, they had a horrible fight. But finally on September 24, 1846, Zachary's forces took the city.

You might think things couldn't get worse for the Mexicans. But just as Zachary was moving south, another rather crusty general, Winfield Scott, "Old Fuss and Feathers", also invaded Mexico. In March, 1847, he sailed into and occupied Veracruz.

Antonio and his army were camped near the city, and the Americans approached faster than they had reckoned. And leading the American advance was a regiment from Illinois.

It's bad enough that Sam Houston had once attacked during Siesta Time, but now the discourteous soldiers from Illinois attacked while Antonio was eating lunch! Antonio managed to get away but in the mêlée he left behind his wooden leg. The Americans took the leg and when they returned to Illinois they donated it to the state as a - quote - "trophy of war" - unquote. It's now in the Illinois State Military Museum in Indianapolis.⁸

From this rather inauspicious start you can guess the outcome. Winfield's soldiers marched the 250 miles to Mexico City. It was no pushover and there were major battles along the way: The Battle of Cerro Gordo, The Battle of Churubusco, and the Battle of Molino del Rey. Finally Winfield met Antonio at Chapultepec on the outskirts of Mexico City. The Americans won.

The war officially ended on May 30, 1848, with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Mexico lost all of their land north of the Rio Grande, including all of California, and most of what is now New Mexico and Arizona. Any claims to Texas were ceded to the US.

And yes, with yet another war lost and with it half of Mexico's land, Antonio was once again told to "git". This time he sailed to Jamaica.

But like the proverbial bad centavo he kept coming back. In 1853, Antonio returned to become President again. Once more it was because the Americans began to get pushy.

You see, there was this little slice of Mexico in the south of Arizona and New Mexico that Americans really, really wanted. Perhaps Antonio was just the man to stand up to the pushy yanquis.

But rather than fight about it, Antonio told the Americans, OK, you want it, you can have it. But it'll cost you. The US agreed and paid $10 million for what is now known as the Gadsden Purchase. So by 1854 the boundaries of the contiguous United States were pretty much settled.

In Mexico, though, the Gadsden Purchase was the last straw. ¡Este ya es la gota que colma el vaso! It didn't help that while Antonio was in office he had also raised taxes (again) and declared himself His Most Serene Highness. He also had granted himself an indefinite term in office and claimed the right to name his successor. Support for Antonio crumbled, and once more he had to leave the country.

If Santa Anna did get his picture taken in New York around 1855, this was the time. Although for most of 1855 he was in Mexico, by the end of the year he was once more in exile and this time he didn't return to Mexico until 1864. So he had plenty of opportunity for a side trip to New York to pose for the camera.

Of course, while cooling his heels in exile Antonio kept trying to figure some way to get back to Mexico. But Mexican politics were becoming increasingly complicated. After Antonio had been booted out of office, Mexico had become embroiled not just in another rebellion but in a bonafide civil war. This was fought between two factions which are today called - who else? - the liberals and conservatives although more neutrally oriented historians have referred to them as Republicans and Monarchists. The Republicans tended to promote ideas of democracy and the rights of the poorer citizens and indigenous people while the Monarchists supported a country run by the aristocrats and hacienda owners.

The trouble was no one knew who was the real government. The United States said it was the Republicans under the leadership of Benito Juárez. Benito, in fact, was the first indigenous Mexican to serve as president as well as being a two-time character on the TV series The Wild Wild West. But France - now led by King Louis Napoléon Bonaparte (the nephew of THE Napoléon Bonaparte) - said it was the Monarchists.

So what to do?

Although the Republican faction under Benito won the war, the victory was temporary as the Monarchists had a back-up plan. They went to - get this - the Archduke of Austria, Ferdinand Maximilian Josef Maria von Habsburg-Lothringen who for brevity is usually just called Maximillian. Would Max and his wife, Charlotte of Belgium, like to be King and Queen of Mexico? Sure, they replied, why not? So Max and Carlota (as she was called by her new subjects) arrived to a rather muted welcome in Veracruz.

One of Max's requisites for assuming the throne was that he would have the help of the French. King Louis was agreeable and ordered the French army to invade Mexico. They took Mexico City by force, and Benito and his followers had to leave the city. On April 10, 1864, Max and Carlota were installed as Emperor and Empress of Mexico.

Things went OK if you ignore the fact that Benito and his forces were still full of fight and the Republicans kept winning battles. By 1866 Louis Napoléon realized the war was becoming increasingly unpopular with the French people and had become so costly that he needed to get the boys back home. In November 1866, Louis began pulling the troops out and within a year Max was on his own.

With no French forces propping up his throne, Max was offered a chance to abdicate. He gave the matter considerable thought but in what has to have been one of his most ill-advised decisions (among many), he refused. Now with the Republican army returning to Mexico City, Max fled to the city of Querétaro about 100 miles to the northwest.

Querétaro fell to the Republican forces on May 15, 1867, and Max was taken prisoner. Now you would think that a country that kept letting Antonio back in would be happy just to let Max and Carlota go back to Austria. After all, Max wasn't that bad a chap and he had been a supporter of many liberal reforms that would have helped out the poorer and indigenous Mexicans.

Normally that would have been fine with Benito who had no beef with Max personally. But Max had come to power due to foreign intervention and that kind of thing had to be discouraged. Also during the war, Max had been rather tough on the "rebels". He had decreed that anyone who was proven to be a member of the rebel forces - that is, the Republicans - would be immediately executed. Since under this order hundreds of prisoners of war had been killed, Benito decided he couldn't just slap Max on the back and say, well, that's OK, but just don't do it again. Max was put on trial for treason and executed by firing squad on June 19, 1867. Benito resumed his presidency.

Carlota, though, had already returned to Europe to try to persuade Louis Napoléon to keep the French troops in Mexico. Louis demurred, and Carlota failed to convince anyone else (including the Pope) to actively support the Mexican Monarchy.

The stress soon proved too much. Carlota became convinced that people were plotting to poison her and ultimately for her own protection she had to be kept under constant guard. Her mental condition had become so dire that she wasn't informed of her husband's death for six months.

For the rest of her life, Carlota remained a virtual recluse reading children's books in her rooms where she also kept a life-sized doll of her husband. She alternated between times where she behaved relatively normally contrasted by spells of mental instability with bizarre episodes where she carried on conversations with people who weren't there or siccing her dogs on the servants. Despite her problems she lived a long if unhappy life and died in 1927.

And where does Antonio fit into all of this?

Actually nowhere. When the civil war began Antonio had offered his services to Benito and the Republicans. Then when Benito said no thanks - Mexico had lost enough land already - Antonio had gone to Max. But then Max said also gracias pero no gracias.

So now approaching seventy, Antonio found himself a pariah on both sides of Mexican politics. In 1864 he had returned to Mexico but briefly - VERY briefly - and was almost immediately ordered out. He never regained political office.

Not that he didn't try. In 1866 Antonio was living in Cuba. There he met the US Secretary of State William H. Seward. It was simply a courtesy call but somehow Antonio came away with the impression that the US government would support him in another run for President of Mexico.

Things began to fall into place. Almost as soon as William departed, Antonio was visited by two men, Dario Mazuera and Abraham Báez. They were, they said, associates of Mr. Seward. They were there to assist him in getting official support and funding for his return to Mexico. They also had documents which convinced Antonio that the US government would be willing to pay up to $30 million toward the "liberation" of Mexico.

As for present expenses, Dario and Abraham said that if Antonio would advance them modest funds then all three of them would go to New York. There they could buy arms and ammunition as well as a ship. All for a triumphant return to Mexico.

With Antonio providing the cash, he and his new found friends hied off to New York. There he also paid Abraham $2400 for a month's rent for a house. That you could easily have bought the whole house for this amount seems not to have concerned Antonio.

Then as soon as they arrived, both Dario and Abraham disappeared. Antonio was perplexed. Finally he managed to contact Secretary Seward about the two partners he had sent. William replied he had never met either man and had no idea who they were.

Yep. Santa Anna had been had by two con-men who had swindled him out of most of his savings. The so-called documents had been forged and the men were never seen again. At least not by Antonio.

So Antonio's stay in New York was brief. But he still he managed to arrange a trip back home on the American mail steamer, the USS Virginia. In mid-July, he was back in Mexico.

Some like whiskey; some like rum!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Santa Anna liked chewing gum!

Along the plains of Mexico!

But it was during this New York detour that Antonoio got into the chewing gum business. Of course the tellings of how this happened vary considerably as you may guess for anything to do with Antonio.

Chewing gum is often seen as a largely American phenomenon and one Swedish representative for the Allied prisoners of war during World War II mentioned how he enjoyed talking with the "gum-chewing Americans". No matter where you go, you'll find Americans waggin' their jaws.⁹

But the chewing of various gums or waxes to freshen the breath and clean the teeth is older than civilization. In Mexico the natives had been chomping on chicle, the solidified sap of the sapodilla tree, for thousands of years. And it was a habit that Antonio had acquired.

One popular informational website stated that when Antonio was in New York he hired a Staten Island resident, Thomas Adams, as his private secretary. But Thomas was also an inventor and had been trying to come up with a substitute for natural rubber. He saw Antonio chewing on chicle and thought the springy substance might be what he was looking for. It didn't work out as chicle compounds don't really have that close a molecular structure to rubber. But when Thomas tried chewing some of the chicle himself he felt it needed a bit of sweetener. So he added sugar and pressed the concoction into sticks. Hey, presto!, he had chewing gum. So Thomas started the Adams Chewing Gum Company and got rich.

So it seems that Antonio de Lopez de Santa Anna was responsible for American chewing gum. And yes, the popular informational website gave a reference complete with a footnote.

So can we doubt it?

Well, yes. The footnoted reference was for Thomas's obituary. And the reference did state Tom used chicle to make his gum. But nowhere in the reference - that's nowhere in the reference - is there any mention of Antonio or that Thomas was his secretary.

When you get down to it, a footnote reference by itself don't mean diddly. So the first thing to do when confronted with what may be a bogus story is to actually check out the references. This is particularly important if we're dealing with an event before the invention of the Internet. If the story appeared out of the blue in the 1990's but you can't find it anywhere before then, you can bet it's bogus.

Another characteristic of a bogus story is that the facts keep changing. What makes us concerned about the story of Antonio and the Chewing Gum is no one really agrees where Thomas first met Antonio. One account is that Thomas and Antonio met when they lived at the same rooming house (unlikely since by then Tom had married and had kids). Or that Antonio lived in Tom's house (possible but not documented). Then as we said, we read that Tom was Antonio's secretary.

How Tom got his first batch of chicle is also in dispute. We learn Tom saw Antonio chewing the gum. Or maybe he saw some sitting on a table. You'll also hear that Antonio ordered a ton of chicle to sell to Tom. Or maybe it was 500 pounds. We also hear Antonio just brought some chicle to chew on when he came to Tom's house. Or it was Tom who ordered the chicle, not Antonio. Then you'll hear that it was really Antonio's real secretary, Rudolph Napegy, who gave Tom the idea.

There also seems to be confusion as to the actual source of our information. Sometimes you'll hear that one of Tom's sons, Horatio, told the story in 1944. It is certainly possible that Horatio - Tom, Sr.'s, son and Tom, Jr.'s brother - could have given a speech at that late date as he died at age 103 in 1956. But then we also read that Horatio was the grandson of Tom and the son of Tom, Jr.

The problem, then, is not just finding sources. But finding reliable sources.

A good place to start is university publications. Although not completely free from the odd urban legend, academic books and papers are at least written by people trained for seeking out proper information and the writings are supposedly reviewed by knowledgeable reviewers and editors.

For instance, Dr. Laura Filloy Nadal, director of research at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City, wrote a most informative article about the history of the rubber balls used in ancient Mesoamerican games. But the rubber they used was made from the sap of the Castilla elastica tree. This is a natural latex and is a form of true rubber. With the proper processing you can produce a real and bouncy rubber ball. But the article does not contain the story of Santa Anna since the chicle is taken from the pod of Manilkara zapota or Manilkara chicle and is not actually rubber.

Fortunately, there is an unambiguous source that anyone can locate about Antonio and his connection to American chewing gum. This a story that was published in several pharmaceutical publications in the early 20th century.

On December 16, 1910 - not 1944 - Tom, Jr. - not Horatio - gave a brief talk at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City. Among the things we read is:

 George H. Worthington, president of the American Chicle Company, presided, and introduced Henry Rowley, secretary and treasurer of the American Chicle Company, and president of the Sen-Sen Chicklet Company, upon whom fell the duties of toastmaster. Mr. Rowley called on Thomas Adams, who in a very clever and humorous chat gave a résumé of the inception of the chewing gum industry, incidentally pointing out the fact that the first chicle gum ever brought to America was brought at the instance of General Santa Anna, who submitted it to Thomas Adams, Sr., with the statement that it could be used to good advantage as an adulterant for rubber, a project which failed. Yet this old war horse did succeed in fathering an industry, now employing more than 10,000 people, 3,000 of whom are actively engaged in the gathering of the crude material in the forests of Mexico.

So despite some initial concerns that The Story of Antonio and the Chewing Gum might be bogus, we do have a first-hand article reporting that Tom, Jr., said that Antonio introduced his dad to chicle. This is pretty reliable as far as historical sources go. So we may not know the details, but we can be confident that Antonio de Lopez de Santa Anna was indeed a key figure in establishing the chawing habits of millions of Americans.

Back on the Virginia, Antonio arrived in Veracruz on June 3, 1866. His plan was that he would - quote - "liberate the city" - unquote. Unfortunately, another American ship, the USS Tacony, was outside the harbor under the command of Commodore Francis Roe. Commodore Roe boarded the Virginia and informed Antonio that the United States recognized Benito Juárez as the Mexican president. Then - no doubt with Antonio protesting all the way - the Commodore ordered the Virginia to take Antonio to the port of Sisal on the Yucatan peninsula. And that's where Antonio landed on June 30.

In Mexico there was a row.

Hooray! Santy Anno!

Santa Anna in the hoosegow!

Along the plains of Mexico!

Sitting on Sisal, Antonio couldn't do much but wait to see how things would shake out. He was there for over a year and then in July 14, 1867, he was - to quote Arlo Guthrie - "immediately arrested". He was then shipped back to Veracruz and imprisoned on the island of San Juan de Ulúa.

From October 7 to the 10th, Antonio de Lopez de Santa Anna underwent the humiliation of a public court martial under the same law that ended with Maximilian's execution. To accommodate the crowds the trial was held in the main theater in Veracruz. If not a forgone conclusion the outcome was no surprise although the sentence was a relatively lenient eight years in exile.

It was also in October that Benito Juárez was elected - yes, elected - President of Mexico. He was re-elected in 1871 only to die in less than a year. The official cause was a heart attack. But others mention that his wife, had died the year before. Benito was succeeded by Sebastián Lerdo de Tejada.

Benito Juárez remains one of the most revered figures in Mexico's history. His governmental reforms shook Mexico out of the monarchal model into a modern republic. He made primary school available to all children, established civil marriage, and passed the law that gave everyone to practice their own religion.

And Antonio?

Well, you don't need to feel too sorry for him. He spent his exile traveling around the Caribbean and living in Havana, the Dominican Republic, and Nassau - scarcely the greatest hardships anyone can experience. Then in 1874 President Lerdo de Tejada issued a general amnesty to all "rebels" and Santa Anna was allowed to return home. He spent the next two years living in Veracruz and Mexico City, and on June 21, 1876, eighty-two and virtually blind, he died.

Oh, Santa Anna's day is done!

Hooray! Santy Anno!

And the end of our song has come!

Along the plains of Mexico!

Today it's kind of hard to see how Antonio is held up in his native land. Certainly the popular image in the United States is of a power-hungry tyrant who had no hesitation in murdering soldiers engaged in legitimate combat. But even Mexican historians will mention that Santa Anna remains "controversial" and "multifaceted" and say that his role in Mexican history is a matter for "discourse". Yes, he may have been important in establishing the Constitution of 1824 which among other things led to the ending of slavery. It's also doubtful that anyone could have prevented the loss of the land above the Rio Grande. The Americans wanted it and that was pretty much that.

However we must clear up one misapprehension about Antonio and his legacy. Contrary to popular conception, he was not the originator of the phrase used by many patrons of fine dining establishments when ordering a slice a baked pastry filled with sweetened fruits and fillings and covered with a pastry crust.

No, Antonio never shouted:

REMEMBER
THE ÀLA-MODE!

References and Further Reading

Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, Renato Blumenberg, Grandes Mexicanos, Grupo Editorial Tomo, 2003.

Santa Anna of Mexico, Will Fowler, University of Nebraska Press, 2009.

Santa Anna : A Curse upon Mexico, Robert Scheina, Potomac Books, 2002.

Santa Anna: Patriot or Scoundrel, Ruby Tolliver, Hendrick-Long Publishing, 1992.

The Alamo 1836: Santa Anna's Texas Campaign (Campaign, 89), Stephen Hardin, Osprey Publishing, 2001.

Santa Anna: The Napoléon of the West, Frank Hanighen, Kessinger Publishing, 2008.

Life in Mexico Under Santa Anna, 1822-1855, Ruth Olivera and Liliane Crété, University of Oklahoma Press, 1991.

Santa Anna: El Dictador Resplandeciente, Rafael Munoz, Fondo De Cultura Economica, 2006.

Santa Anna in Life and Legend, University of Texas Libraries, The University of Texas at Austin, 2006.

"[Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna]", Lawrence T. Jones III Texas Photographs, SMU Digital Collection, Southern Methodist University Libraries.

"Santa Anna", Lawrence T. Jones III Texas Photographs, SMU Digital Collection, Southern Methodist University Libraries.

"How One New York City Studio and the Brothers Behind It Helped Popularize the Daguerreotype", Leah Binkovitz, Smithsonian, June 14, 2013.

"Why Abraham Lincoln Was Revered in Mexico", Jamie Katz, Smithsonian, February 23, 2017.

"The Role of Santa Anna in Defending Mexico During the War", Mexico Historico.

"How a Mexican General's Exile in Staten Island Led to Modern Chewing Gum", Will Conant, Atlas Obscura October 7, 2019.

American Druggist and Pharmaceutical Record, Volume 57, pp. 392 - 393., July - December, 1910, December 26, 1910, American Druggist Publishing Company.

"The Mesoamerica People Produced Rubber from 3,500 Years Ago", Science Information, December 17, 2018.

"Antonio López de Santa Anna: Militar Mexicano Que Dominó la Vida Política de su País Entre 1823 y 1855", Marcelo Néstor Musa, Enciclopedia Iberoamericana, February 17, 2023.

"Who Was Benito Juárez, the Revolutionary Hero Who Shaped Mexico?", Montserrat Castro, Mexico Daily News, March 18, 2024 (Posted by The California-Mexico Studies Center).

"Benito Juárez, The Mexican President Who Died of Sadness", Mexicanist, July 18, 2022.

Ashes of Empire: Carlota and Maximilian of Mexico, Marguerite Vance, Dutton, 1959.

Maximilian and Carlota: A Tale of Romance and Tragedy, Gene Smith, Harper Collins, 1973.

Charlotte, la passion et la fatalité, Mia Kerckvoorde, Duculot, 1981.

"Inés García de López de Santa Anna", Ola K Ase, July 18, 2020, Find-a-Grave, Find-a-Grave Memorial ID: 213166829.

"Antonio López de Santa Anna", August 19, 2005, Find-a-Grave, Find-a-Grave Memorial ID: 11566057 .