Santa Anna Is a Disney Villain
The other day, my friend Allison asked me a great question. She’s a history teacher (and a wonderful one at that), and she wanted to know if I thought that Texans had learned the Texas Revolution and the Mexican American War and all of that differently from Kansans. I laughed, said definitely yes, and started thinking about that time period in general. I had an amazing Texas History teacher in seventh grade (shout-out to Heather Kelley, more on her later), so I’ve kept a special spot in my heart for everything I know about that period of history.
As a result, I am going to try to do a little blog miniseries on the Texas Revolution. These next few posts are going to be a combination of my knowledge of Texas History, facts that I am reminded of from Wikipedia (I am not ashamed of my sources), and a liiiiil bit of imagination.
That being said, let me set the stage with an in-depth look into the main villain, a guy who takes this whole thing from history to story. Having served as his defense attorney in a mock trial in seventh grade (seriously, Mrs. Kelley was the best), I can tell you flat-out that this guy is a straight-up Disney-style villain. I can’t wait to tell you all about him. You know him, you love to hate him, ladies and gentlemen… Santa Anna!
Santa Anna’s full name was Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón. If that is not the most pompous name you have ever heard, please tell me what is. Seriously. I can just picture the sweet Mexican grandmother embroidering AdPMSLdSAyPdL in gold thread on all of her tyrannical grandson’s towels.
Santa Anna was born in 1794, a Mexican of European descent (or criollo). Criollo was the second-highest caste in Nuevo España, so Santa Anna was set from the start. He joined the Mexican army at age 16 and rose swiftly through the ranks. As he gained more power, he routinely allied himself with the rich and powerful against the unfortunate, although he was well known for switching sides when he saw the opportunity. SHOCKINGLY, the Mexican people never really warmed to the guy. Santa Anna often used his position in the military to keep his wealth and status.
In 1829, Santa Anna’s small Mexican army defeated a much larger Spanish one at Tampico to help win Mexican Independence. It was Santa Anna’s big win!! Unless… I don’t know, does it still count as a big win if most of the enemy army is suffering from Yellow Fever? Eh, what the heck. We’ll give it to him.
After Tampico, Santa Anna’s supporters starting calling him “The Napoleon of the West!”
Okay, maybe it was only his biggest supporters who called him that.
Or his biggest supporter, singular.
It was himself. Santa Anna called himself the Napoleon of the West.
Also “The Victor of Tampico” and “The Savior of the Motherland.” The guy was big on nicknames.
For a while, Santa Anna tooled around the edges of power in the baby nation of Mexico. In 1833, he was elected president by the Congress of Mexico. His first act as El Presidente was to appoint Un Vice Presidente and leave almost every bit of governing to him. Around 1834, Santa Anna showed up for what was presumably his second day in the office and abolished Congress. Just… shut it down. Luckily, there was someone to take all of that power left open by Congress’s absence.
Guess who it was?
If you said “Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón,” first of all: way to go. Not an easy thing to say. Second of all, you’re absolutely right!
Mexico was now a military dictatorship led by a guy with eighteen names. And if there’s one group of people who hate people with hard-to-pronounce names who tell us what to do, it’s TEXANS.
Hopefully you see where this is going.
For those of you who don’t know, up until the mid-1830s, Texas was a part of Mexico. That’s one of our Six Flags!
(Side note: I know why TEXAS has a Six Flags… but why does any other state have it? In our history, we’ve literally had Six Flags Over Texas. But honestly, why is there a Six Flags New Jersey? What are those flags: six pairs of The Situation’s tighty whities? Sorry. Inappropriate/off-track. Back to Santa Anna.)
Texas started to actively rebel against Mexico at the famous Come and Take It Battle of Gonzales in October 1835. Santa Anna was probably sitting on a pile of gold coins when he heard about it, and thought, “Yeah, I could stand to burn all of this gold on something. Let’s go fight in Texas!”
Here is where Señor Presidente actually began to earn his title “Napoleon of the West.” Much like Napoleon marching into Russia, Santa Anna acted like an idiot. He did not equip his soldiers for the weather of Texas because, just like Alyssa Boutelle (BFF, MN) and Madeline Stebbins (BFF, WI) when I first met them, Santa Anna went, “Texas is 80-100 degrees year-round, right?”
Fun fact: it is not.
Santa Anna also just started recruiting people for his army, which meant that he got his fair share of convicts, homeless dudes, and native peoples who did not speak a LICK of Spanish. Like the Eby siblings watching telenovelas, there was a lot lost in the translation of Santa Anna’s instructions. Unlike the Eby siblings watching telenovelas, that which was lost was incredibly important to the lives of the listeners.
I’m going to stop for a moment to throw in a fact that I remember learning in seventh grade. I have never been able to corroborate this on the internet since then, but I KNOW it is true. I KNOW it is true because A) Mrs. Kelley was the smartest, coolest, best history teacher of my K-8 career and B) It is too good to not be true.
Santa Anna had a pure gold chamberpot that he had his troops carry with him on military campaigns.
I know that to be ridiculous. I also know it to be true.
Santa Anna’s military expedition into Texas put the “pai(g)n” in “campaign.” There’s much more to this part of the story- particularly Goliad, the Alamo, and San Jacinto- but I’ll talk more about that in detail soon. For now, I’m going to skip ahead a couple of years. Spoiler alert: Texas won. It’s such a great story. But I promise I will get back to it.
Never fear, though, because what’s coming up is my favorite part.
So Santa Anna came home from the Texas Revolution with his metaphorical tail between his legs. He needed a win, and fast. When France invaded Mexico in what would come to be known quite deliciously as The Pastry War, ol’ Antonio saw his chance. He rushed off to battle…
And promptly lost his left leg.
Back then, loss of limb in battle was pretty par for the course. Nobody wanted it to happen, of course, but it did, and often. With a normal military commander, losing a leg would hardly be noteworthy.
However, as we all know by now, Santa Anna was no normal military commander. Not only did he get a set of $1,300 cork replacement legs shipped in from New York City, but he also had his leg buried with “full military honors.”
Santa Anna had a leg funeral.
Santa Anna made the whole Mexican army stand at attention and salute (or whatever they did in Mexico in the 1830s) while pallbearers carried a tiny mahogany leg casket to the gravesite. The pallbearers lowered the tiny mahogany leg casket into the ground as a bugler played whatever the Mexican version of Taps is (¿Tapas?). Everyone had to act solemn as Santa Anna, who was very much still alive, eulogized his left leg. Everyone had to be cool as seven men performed a 21 Gun Salute (or, again, whatever the equivalent was). And then they all had to leave this leg funeral, this full military honors leg funeral, and follow Santa Anna into battle again.
I don’t know about you, but I might have some doubts about my commander after that.
Still una nación bebé, Mexico ended up caving to France in the (mmmm) Pastry War. This loss did not stop Santa Anna from using his injury to get a (we both know I have to say this) leg up on the people’s opinion of him in Mexico. He had an on-again-off-again affair with leading the nation, ultimately serving as Mexico’s president for eleven non-consecutive terms. In 1845, Santa Anna was exiled to Cuba for his dictatorial sins.
BUT THE STORY OF SANTA ANNA’S LEG IS FAR FROM OVER.
Those are the best words I’ve ever typed. Seriously, this story makes me giddy.
Before being exiled, Santa Anna had launched some campaigns into Texas that, among other things, sparked the Mexican American War. The president of Mexico at that time, President Valentín Gómez Notthebríghtestbulb, ran out of plays pretty early on in the game. Santa Anna dropped him a little note just to say, “Hey bú. How’s the war? Listen, naturally I don’t want to be president again, but if you need someone to fight, I’m still around. XOXO, Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón.” Farías welcomed him back with open (and very stupid) arms. Of course, Santa Anna was actually in cahoots with the United States at that time, but as soon as Mexico took him back, he was right out of cahoots again. Loyal guy, that Santa Anna. And of course, pretty much as soon as he returned to Mexico, Santa Anna returned to one of his old favorite hobbies: declaring himself president of Mexico.
All this to say that one fine, glorious day in 1847, Santa Anna was sitting in a tent in Veracruz, Mexico. As the battle raged just outside his tent flaps, this fine commander sat inside eating a fine roast pollo, surrounded by $18,000 in pure gold dinero. Suddenly, Santa Anna realized that there was an actual war going on, and the troops of the Fourth Regiment of Illinois Volunteers was headed straight for him. Santa Anna fled, leaving behind el pollo, el dinero, and- miracle of miracles- his $1,300 replacement leg. The good men of the Illinois Fourth gave the gold to their commander, ate the chicken, and claimed the leg as their very own.
Can this story get any better? YES.
There was a second $1,300 replacement leg that Santa Anna also left behind, and later that day- I kid you not- the Illinois soldiers used it as a baseball bat.
Mexico lost the war big-time, and Santa Anna returned home without a (yes, I have to) leg to stand on. He was exiled to Jamaica, then came back for one more victory lap as president, and was exiled once more. This time, it stuck. Santa Anna spent his retirement the way I imagine most dictators would: trying to build an army, cockfighting, and bringing gum to the United States of America (yeah, that was him). When he was 80, Santa Anna was allowed to return to Mexico. Poor, one-legged, and completely blind, he lived out the rest of his days in obscurity before passing away quietly in 1876. His endless quest for fame and power left him alone in the end, forgotten in the country he once ruled.
BUT THE STORY OF HIS LEG STILL LIVES ON.
No, I’m serious.
The cork leg captured by the Illinois Fourth is still on display in Springfield… and Mexico keeps asking for it back.
Yes, really.
Several times over the last century, Mexico has requested the return of the leg (with varying degrees of formality). Illinois has always flatly refused. They reason that it was bought with the blood of Illinois soldiers, and therefore belongs in Illinois.
You know, I don’t disagree.
I know that’s a lot of exposition. But now you know exactly who the Texans were up against… and how completely and totally bizarre he was.
Next time I write, I’ll probably cover Gonzales and Goliad. Then… the Alamo.
As we say in Texas, see y'all then.