“And this young man has reported all this to you?”
“Part of it. We have been keeping close watch on the French for some time — even before the war ended. Since we have other agents in Mexico, Lobo was sent to investigate a totally different matter. A very quiet invasion right here, on the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. This is where the events of a most serious nature are occurring.”
Lincoln leaned close as Gustavus Fox ran his finger across the map, tapping the thin neck of land that connected Mexico with Central America. “That name is most familiar,” Lincoln said. “Yes, I do remember, it was just before the last election. A matter of some two million dollars was needed as I remember. It almost passed Congress.”
“It almost did. That was the McLane-Ocampo Treaty of 1859. This country wanted to open a trade route to California. The two million dollars would have given the United States the perpetual right of transit across the isthmus. Unhappily, the treaty agreement was narrowly defeated. It now appears that someone else has been studying history and has had the same idea. You will notice that Mexico narrows greatly here to the south, so that only a narrow isthmus, barely a hundred miles of land, separates the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Here, on the Pacific shore, is where the unusual activity is taking place. Earlier reports were very vague. That was why I sent O’Higgins there to find out what we could. His report is most detailed and most accurate. There are troops there, many of them, regiments of soldiers. And they are not French or Austrian.”
Lincoln looked up, startled.
“They are British,” Fox said grimly. “Our recent enemy seems to be thinking about war and invasion again.”
“A road,” O’Higgins said. “Would you believe that they have invaded Mexico, right here, and are now engaged in building a road across the isthmus from one ocean to the other. I have watched them laboring to cut through what has been, up to now, the trackless jungle. I do not envy them their labors in the heat. Many of them sicken and die at this thankless task. But troop transports arrive from across the Pacific quite often and their numbers grow. I have reported all of these facts to Mr. Fox, as well as the names and the numbers of the regiments of troops involved.”
“They are all troops from the various countries of the British Empire,” Fox said. “Indian for the most part, as well as some English regiments that were stationed in the remote corners of the Empire. And I believe what they are planning is obvious, although I have no exact knowledge as such. I am sure that when I get reports from our agents in Britain they will support what is, so far, just a supposition.”
“Which is?” Lincoln asked.
“Invasion,” Fox said. Striding over to a map of the United States and tapping the Gulf coast close to New Orleans. “In the soft underbelly of our country. They can pick a landing site, anywhere from Texas to Florida, and land there in overwhelming numbers. There is a thousand miles of coastline here, and it is impossible to defend all of it at the same time. Troop transports in ballast could leave England and sail swiftly across the Atlantic, protected all of the way by warships. Without advance knowledge of their course, position and strength, there is little that we could do to stop them. Once they have reached Mexico they could load the soldiers from the east here, at the port of Vera Cruz, on the Atlantic shore. And the new road is going to that seaport.”
“You are sure of that?” Lincoln asked.
“With my own ears,” O’Higgins said. “I heard two of their officers talking and they mentioned that city as the road’s destination. I had heard it mentioned before, in passing, but these officers were quite positive about it. Of course they had no idea that I could understand what they were saying.”
“This is indeed unhappy news,” the President said, shaking his head. “I had hoped that our cousins in Britain would come to their senses once they had been defeated. It appears that defeat has only incensed them the more.”
Fox nodded in somber agreement. “Their plan is a good one. They can mass overwhelming troops at Vera Cruz, bring in the transports — then strike! Once the soldiers are boarded and at sea, guarded all the way by ironclads, they can attack at any time — and at any place they might wish. If they can strike fast enough, before reports reach us, why there is no way that we can stop them from putting those troops ashore.”
“This is terrible, disastrous,” Lincoln said. “Then — what can be done?”
“The answer to that is a simple one. But it might be very difficult to achieve.”
Lincoln looked puzzled. “Please enlighten me.”
Fox touched the map of Mexico again. No, he did not touch it — he slammed his fist hard onto it.
“We stop them here. We stop the road being built. We harass the troops and make it impossible for them to reach the Atlantic Ocean. Without these troops there can be no invasion.”
“That is a tall order, young man,” Lincoln said. He approached the map, put his finger on Texas, then traced down the length of Mexico to the isthmus. “That is a powerful long way to march our men. And powerfully hard to do with all those Frenchmen with guns sitting along the route.”
“That will not be necessary,” O’Higgins said. “There is a word in Spanish that does not exist in English. The word is guerrillero. It means those who figh
t the guerrilla, the little war.”
“You have left me in the dark, Mr. O’Higgins. Please enlighten me. Dare I ask you how fighting a little war will help us win a big one?”
“To answer that you must look to the first Emperor Napoleon who invaded Spain. His mighty war machine, that had conquered all of Europe, had little difficulty in defeating and destroying the Spanish and Portuguese armies. But they could not defeat the Spanish and Portuguese people of the Iberian peninsula. They fled to the mountains before his attack, and fought their little war from the security of their rocky fortresses. They harassed the lines of communication so vital to an army. They struck at any weak points, vanishing into the mountains again before they could be caught. That is the little war that the Mexicans also know how to fight so well. Here in Oaxaca, Guerrero, even the valley of Mexico, there are guerrilleros who have never surrendered to the invaders, who are still fighting. It is the noble tradition of these people. And here, in the jungles of Yucatan, there are the Mayans. They have never been defeated. Not by the Spanish invaders — or anyone since. They still speak Mayan and refuse to learn Spanish. With people like these on our side the English will never build this road. So they will never invade the United States — at least not by this route.”
Lincoln turned to Gustavus Fox. “Can this be done?” he asked.
“I don’t see why not. These guerrilla armies are already fighting the French, although they are very badly supplied. If we can arm them with modern weapons, aid them with supplies and ammunition, why then there is every possibility that it could be done.”
“Let me know just what you need and tell the War Department the same. If they give you any problems — why just send them around to see me. This whole thing makes very good military sense.” He started towards the door, then turned back rubbing his jaw in thought. “If we can lick the English this way — why can’t your fighters of the little war do the same thing to the French?”
“We can,” Fox said. “That is an astute observation, Mr. President. The simple answer is that we are already implementing plans to do just that. The Mexicans who are fighting back against the invaders are poorly armed. When the French first loaned money to Mexico, they held a good part of it back for weapons for the Mexican army. Being parsimonious in a very Latin way they saved money by supplying smooth-bore muskets for the most part — many of them actually used in the battle of Waterloo! So when the guerrilleros seized the enemy’s weapons they got very little for their efforts. We are changing all that. Our army has left caches of modern weapons and ammunition close to the Mexican border. Information has been passed to the guerrilla bands. Soon the French will be under attack and will be too busy to even think about aiding their English allies.”
“Will the Mexicans fight the French, Mr. Fox?”
“They have never stopped fighting them, Mr. President. Even though their president, Benito Juarez, had to flee to the United States for safety. Before he returned to this country, in fact as soon as he landed in New Orleans, O’Higgins made a coded report to me by telegraph. As soon as I received it I contacted the Mexican ambassador here in Washington City. He in turn telegraphed Juarez in Texas. If the train arrives in time President Juarez will be here this afternoon.”